Hunted in Conard County Read online

  But she hesitated. She’d heard the sheriff mention to him that they needed to come back to look around in better light. He might already be on his way here.

  Or not. He’d taken Edith Jasper into the office with him. They might all still be there.

  “Let’s go, Snowy.”

  He didn’t need any encouragement. Standing around doing nothing could hardly be his favorite thing. He did lift his head, though, and look back at the park. He must smell it.

  “It’s okay,” she said, hoping to reassure him. She didn’t believe it and doubted he did, either.

  * * *

  Stu had driven only two blocks from the office toward the park when he spied Kerri and Snowy. After seeing her with Edith Jasper this morning, he wondered if he should mention yet again the problems with her involvement. She might now be a civilian, but she had been a cop. Questions could be raised about whether she had subtly guided Edith’s testimony. Not that Edith had seen enough to even fill out an affidavit.

  He decided to let it ride. At this point, all she’d done was keep an elderly woman company after a shocking experience.

  He pulled over and called to Kerri, offering her a ride. He could swing by her apartment if she wanted. He enjoyed his time with her, and it still wasn’t quite light enough outside to help with another search of the scene. Give it another half hour and they’d be able to see things that might have been missed under the spotlights. Odd how artificial light never quite made up for the absence of natural light.

  She smiled and waved, then crossed the street to climb in on the passenger side. Snowy took up residence on the back seat.

  “How are you doing?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine, of course. But I need to talk to you about something someone told me. He asked me to tell you.”

  At that point he stiffened a bit. “Kerri...”

  “I know, I know. But I didn’t ask. He asked, he told me, and all he wanted was that I should relay it to you. I’m not even sure how useful it might be.”

  He was still idling at the curb. “Why would he tell you?”

  “According to him, it would be all over town if he came to talk to the sheriff.”

  “Damn! Why should he be afraid?”

  He looked at her and saw her staring back. Her smile was gone.

  She spoke. “Maybe because nobody knows how far this guy might go?”

  Which was one of the primary reasons he didn’t want Kerri to get involved in the investigation. Interesting twist, a witness coming to her. No way that could be prevented.

  He checked the street, then pulled a U-turn, heading toward the apartments. “You’ve got a class, and the walk will be long enough when you’re ready to go. In the meantime, want me to grab some coffee before we get to your place? Then you can tell me all about it.”

  He could feel it coming. She resented being cut out. Perfectly understandable, to his way of thinking. In her shoes he’d feel the same. It remained, however, that they had to walk a careful line mainly because she was a former cop, and he didn’t want the perp to think she might be gathering evidence. Plus, she was almost exactly the kind of demographic this guy seemed to be looking for: a woman alone. In the isolated end of that damn apartment complex.

  It was equally apparent, to judge by that man talking to her, that she drew something important out of people. Edith had welcomed her company even though she was a total stranger. Now this man felt comfortable telling her something he didn’t want to bring openly to the sheriff.

  If that kind of thing kept up, she was going to be nosing around on her own because she couldn’t resist and people were willing to talk to her.

  He ran into Maude’s to get them coffee and Maude immediately asked, “One’s a latte, right?”

  Was he becoming that predictable? He almost laughed. He and Kerri were just friends but making that kind of impression on Maude, that they were an item, would probably start spreading. He wondered what Kerri would think of that.

  She didn’t say much on the way to her place, which gave him a new concern. Was she angry that he was taking her home? He sure as hell couldn’t invite her across the cordon to join the investigation.

  Once they got upstairs, however, she seemed like her usual self. Maybe she’d just been pondering what that man had told her. Concerned as he was about her getting involved, he wanted to hear her opinions about it.

  This morning also gave him a good idea of why her department had selected her to be a mediator in domestics and a victim advocate when necessary. She had the magic touch, it seemed.

  They sat at her bar with their coffee.

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Apart from letting me know it’s not only women around here who are going to be scared? That really got my attention, Stu. It’s not like the guy witnessed the crime but he seems edgy about the fact that he probably saw the perp.”

  Stu’s interest rose a few notches. “He did?”

  “So it seems. Nothing identifiable, unfortunately. But let me tell you his story. Insomniac. Lives across the street from the park entrance. Saw the vic enter, jogging, then saw a man all in black—keep in mind that it was night and dark colors of any kind could pass for black.”

  He nodded, swiveling so he could see her. Here he was, listening to her report, and thinking about how much he liked to look at her. From the living room right behind them came the sound of Snowy gnawing rawhide. Teeth scraping.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “he thought it was odd the guy was wearing a ski mask but didn’t make much of it. Didn’t make anything of the fact that the guy turned into the park after the jogger. Said he was running a little faster than she was and he didn’t think they were together.”

  Stu nodded. “Which means the man was far enough behind not to seem connected.”

  “Anyway, the guy’s name is Webley. The sheriff knows him, I gather. You might want to talk to him because he might have noticed more than he realizes. But I don’t have to tell you that.”

  No, she didn’t. Common enough in crime investigation. Like Edith with the birdsong this morning. Things didn’t always seem relevant until they were. “Did he say what time?”

  “No, I didn’t press him. I figured you guys could do that.”

  “I’m impressed. I think you’ve got more self-control than I have.”

  Her expression turned wry. “I heard you this morning. I know you’re right. But when people come up to me to tell me something, I won’t shut them down.”

  There it was. Her personal declaration of war. She might be on the outside, but if people talked to her she’d soon be on the inside.

  “You’re going to bring up the assaults at every opportunity, aren’t you?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? Everyone else is.” Then she threw the gauntlet again. “I have a skill set, Stu. You can’t just expect me to forget it because I left the force for disability. I get that I can’t be a real law enforcement officer anymore, but I’ll use my skills whenever it’s appropriate. Trust me, I’m not going to interfere in your damn investigation.”

  Whoa, he thought. She was well and truly fired up now.

  She rose and carried her latte with her, pacing the small living room. Snowy looked up from his rawhide bone, evidently decided everything was cool and went back to gnawing.

  “Do you have any idea how maddening this is?” Kerri demanded. “I worked on cases like this in the victims unit. I was trained to question the victim, to support the victim and to question witnesses. I not only mediated domestics, but I helped solve rape cases. I get why I can’t do it anymore, but I don’t have to like it.”

  “Of course you don’t.” His chest tightened a bit as he again faced this woman’s losses. Here she was trying to settle into an entirely different life, to rebuild on the ashes, and then the kind of case she knew inside and out was happening right u
nder her nose. He had a pretty good idea how he would feel.

  He added, “I hope you understand my position.”

  “Hell, yes. I said I won’t interfere. But if stuff falls in my lap like it did this morning, I’m going to pass it on to you and run with it if I have to.”

  He tensed. “Run with it? What do you mean?” That sounded suspiciously like getting involved.

  “Follow it,” she said.

  Dang, her eyes were practically shooting fire at him. Evidently, he’d uncorked the bottle.

  Just then, Snowy rose and trotted over to her to nudge her thigh. Twice because she ignored the first one. Then she looked down at him. “Oh, damn.” She quickly set the coffee on the end table and lowered herself in the recliner.

  “You can leave,” she said. “I’ll be okay in a minute or two.”

  Then she was gone. He’d seen it once before, but it was startling how her face changed. A terrible coldness seemed to come over it, as if she were empty, but then there was the anger that seemed to join it.

  He didn’t leave. He waited. He didn’t want her to imagine he was running from her seizures. Nor did he want to. A horrible sadness invaded him. For her. He’d have done just about anything to free her from this.

  But all he could do was wait for her return.

  * * *

  Kerri hated the return from her seizures at least as much as she hated the seizures themselves. The momentary feeling of confusion, as if she’d landed on a strange planet. It was less troubling if nothing had changed, but it was still bothersome because uncertainty overtook her along with that inexplicable confusion.

  She always needed to get her bearings again, as if she’d made an unexpected journey and then dropped back into space and time. It was easier and quicker when nothing had changed. Sometimes she barely noticed except for a brief confusion as if she’d lost her train of thought. Other times it was much more difficult.

  Oh, it was hard to explain even to herself. She looked around, gathering scattered thoughts, trying to remember exactly what she had been doing, making sure that her entire world, or even part of it, hadn’t changed too much.

  Well, something had changed. Snowy was resting his head on her thigh. Instinctively she reached for him and began to knead his neck. He grounded her. He made her return easier.

  Then she saw Stu at the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, waiting.

  “I’m sorry,” she said automatically.

  “No reason to be. Don’t apologize.”

  She lowered her head, looking down at Snowy. Didn’t Stu recognize how broken she was? That almost nothing was normal for her now, nor could it ever be again? She felt useless in so many ways that she had begun to apologize for her very existence.

  Then she realized something. “Did you sit there and watch me?” Annoyance flared.

  “I was waiting,” he said levelly. “Did you really want me to disappear while you were out?”

  “I hate anyone to see me like that. Dead to the world, glaring. Oh, God, I wish there was some way to stop it.”

  “You weren’t glaring, and what are you going to do, dammit? Become a hermit?”

  “I wish.”

  “Hardly. You were out in a crowd this morning, following your cop nose, and you got some potentially useful info by talking to a stranger. I can tell you don’t want to live in a cave, and frankly, I’ve been admiring you.”

  “Me?” Surprise lurched through her. She didn’t feel admirable at all.

  “Admiring you. Starting a whole new life despite being sort of disabled.”

  “Sort of?” She gaped, wondering if the always-simmering anger in her was about to boil over. When she was honest with herself, she knew her underlying emotion was rage—not self-pity, but rage.

  “Sort of,” he repeated. “You’re teaching. You’re trying to stick your nose into an investigation. Maybe it’s only for the dog’s sake, but you go out for walks and run into people like you did this morning. You’re not the hiding type, Kerri.”

  “How would you know?” She began to wonder if she was pouting like a kid. Damn, did she have any nice emotions left in her?

  “I’ve spent enough time with you in the last couple of weeks to form an opinion, and what I think is that you’re remarkable. And beautiful, too.”

  “Who cares what I look like?” Now she knew she was being childish. She also knew what she absolutely didn’t want: a relationship that went beyond friendship. Beautiful? Was that a warning?

  He abruptly changed tack, as if he felt he was heading in the wrong direction. Well, he was.

  “They tried every possible medication on you, right?”

  “Yes.” She almost spat the word through her teeth. “I’m on two now, the only ones that helped at all. I used to do this eight or ten times a day. It’s rarer now.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Really,” she said sarcastically. “I can’t drive. You had to rustle up a bunch of your fellow cops to make sure I didn’t freeze on my way to campus when it gets colder. Do you think I like that?”

  “You don’t have to like it. There are a lot of things we don’t like, but we have to deal, anyway.”

  He was frowning now and she was beginning to feel awful about the way she was behaving. This man had been nothing but kind to her. He didn’t deserve to be the target for her anger. Her dissatisfaction.

  He fell silent, drinking coffee that must be getting cold by now. Leaving her alone with her ugliness.

  It worked. A couple of minutes later, she’d shaken off her mood and acknowledged that while she didn’t want anyone to see her seize, mainly she didn’t want Stu to see it. Not good. But she wasn’t going to say she was sorry again. He’d probably tell her to quit apologizing.

  She spoke. “You don’t put up with my garbage, do you. Thanks.”

  He smiled faintly. “It’s not garbage. But there isn’t much I can do about that bag of rocks you’re backpacking around.”

  “Nobody can do anything.” Now gloom was trying to settle in. No way. She patted Snowy’s head and he went back to his rawhide. Then she stood. “You must need to get back to work. I heard Gage say that he wanted to check things out with better light.”

  “Yup.” He, too, rose, taking his cup with him. “Cold is better than Velma’s coffee,” he remarked. “Okay. See you later?”

  “Class won’t be over till five.”

  “I remember. I’ll meet you at your office. Five, it is.”

  Then he astonished her by hugging her. “Adjustments are hard. You’ll make it.”

  The hug left her feeling amazingly warm. His muscled body seemed to have imprinted itself on her. She’d have liked another one. But no. She had no business becoming involved when she’d just be a burden.

  Chapter 8

  Stu drove back to the park to apply his eyes to the scene. Thinking about what had just happened with Kerri, he was sorry that she felt awkward about her anger and her responses to him. She had every right to whatever her changed circumstances made her feel.

  After all, she’d been following the life of her choice until some jackass had threatened his family with violence, then had shot the one person who was trying to help. His family surely hadn’t deserved that violence, and Kerri even less so.

  Some guy who was either drunk or stoned had wiped away essential parts of a woman’s life. Changed her irrevocably.

  That was plenty to get mad about. And he’d doubtless overstepped by arranging a ride pool for her without consulting her.

  She probably wanted to say, “How like a man.”

  Yup. He was a problem solver from way back, but that didn’t mean he should tread on anyone’s toes by acting without permission.

  Well, he’d done it, and he’d bear whatever consequences came from it. No shirking. He just hoped the consequences weren’t too
severe because whether she wanted it or not, that woman was beginning to curl up in some important place deep inside him.

  He’d meet her at five and maybe they could iron a few things out. Assuming she didn’t find a way to vanish before he got to the college.

  Ten minutes later, he joined Gage and a few other officers as they searched high and low for anything that might have been missed. It was extremely rare when a perp didn’t leave something behind, and now that the sunlight was filtering through tree branches that had lost most of their leaves, it might reveal things. Then, of course, there was the possibility that the evidence they wanted was hidden under some of these fallen leaves.

  He told Gage about Webley’s conversation with Kerri.

  Gage’s response was thoughtful. “Guess I need to send someone who’s not obvious to visit Webley. We sure didn’t hear this during our neighborhood canvass this morning. Interesting that he told Kerri to tell you. Interesting that men are starting to get uneasy, too. Or at least one is.”

  “Well, everyone could be a target if the perp thinks they might know something.”

  “Yeah.” Gage studied the sky overhead. “I used to like autumn.”

  Stu didn’t ask. Gage’s background in the DEA had been horrific, and he suspected the sheriff’s comment had sprung from that. That was a place Stu didn’t want to pry into.

  The daylight search didn’t prove to be helpful at first. They poked around, paying special attention to areas that might not be in a direct line with where the woman had been raped. The rapist had to have been concealed from her most of the time or she’d probably have started a speedy sprint. He probably wouldn’t have been able to close in on her.

  He suspected most of the women in this town, and possibly the entirety of Conard County, would be wary of men late at night while they were alone. He doubted it would even have to be a male stranger at this point.

  He looked around this wooded part of the park, which wasn’t exactly huge, and wondered what had led the victim to come through here. A sense of safety, maybe, given the hour when almost no one was about, or maybe she hadn’t thought about it at all.