Hunted in Conard County Read online

  Except for that one instant he’d feared the cop had seen him. Maybe he’d moved. He froze himself into a statue and waited. At last Canady and the dog headed back inside.

  He was safe from discovery, at least for now.

  But damn, was the guy settling in for the night? Was this going to become a regular thing?

  The more he thought about it, the more worried he got about that Addison woman. Of course, she’d make a tasty morsel for his needs. Subduing her would be a triumph, since she was a cop, had been a cop.

  Even if she was disabled somehow. That didn’t necessarily make her weak. Far from it, he figured.

  But not only would she sate his need, her silence would be to his advantage.

  For now, though, he had to wait and be patient. In the morning, he’d come back to check the layout of the place. He counted the lit windows on the far side of the building and figured out which apartments were occupied.

  Except for the lighted stairwell, there was a yawning darkness between Addison and her nearest neighbors. Those dim hall lights wouldn’t count at all, unless someone was there to catch sight of him.

  Dang, he felt like his head was buzzing with bees as he tried to deal with his urges and his needs both, and right then they seemed to conflict.

  Maybe he’d get her tomorrow night. For right now, though, he needed to find a treat for himself somewhere in this town. A woman who wasn’t afraid enough to zip herself tightly inside her home.

  There’d be someone, he was sure of that. He’d met enough fools to know.

  He had to admit, though, he was surprised how quickly this town seemed to have buttoned down. He wouldn’t have thought two rapes would have done that. Only one had been inside a house. The other in the park. He’d have better understood if people had just stayed indoors at night.

  But no. Doors were being locked, windows latched. As he wandered around in the daytime, hitting the grocery, stopping at the bakery, he heard things.

  And what he heard was fear. He had to admit that gave him a huge thrill. But it also made it harder for him to fulfill his needs.

  Shaking his head, he mounted his bike to head back into town. Maybe on the side farther away from his earlier rape he’d have more luck. A better chance of finding a woman who wasn’t afraid.

  Then he’d check out the situation in Kerri Addison’s building in the morning. And if he was lucky, he could take her tomorrow night.

  He already knew the door locks in that place weren’t the best. Some time ago, he’d checked that just in case and had been pleasantly surprised to find that the dead bolts didn’t go deeply enough into the doorframes. Someone had cut a corner, and just like a movie he could use a shim to open them.

  Unless the Addison woman had lucked out, her apartment might as well be wide open to him.

  As for the dog. It didn’t seem very frightening, especially since it had walked out here with Canady and hadn’t so much as looked in his direction. No threat from that animal. It probably couldn’t do anything except its job looking after the woman.

  Yeah, he could deal with the dog. Jumping on his bike, he headed toward the subdivision on the other side of town. He needed a backup plan to keep himself content if he couldn’t go after Addison tomorrow night.

  Her turn would come.

  Chapter 11

  Kerri felt badly in the morning, primarily because she figured she had ruined last night with her meltdown. She and Stu hadn’t made love again, probably because he was either upset by her timing, or because he was disgusted with her bout of self-pity. She couldn’t blame him.

  Yeah, he’d held her most of the night, but that was small consolation. She’d screwed it up, and not with her seizures.

  Before leaving he had said he’d come back when he was finished for the night, between one and two in the morning, he thought, and he’d bring breakfast from the truck stop if she liked.

  Well, being a cop, she’d learned to love breakfast at any hour, and the wee hours were no exception. She’d smiled and agreed and wondered if he was going to ease himself out of her life now.

  She assured herself it would be for the best if he did, but mostly she didn’t believe it. Stu’s company had become terribly important to her. Which meant she needed to face another truth: much as she had tried to avoid it, she’d formed a deep relationship. An attachment. That man had slipped past all her fears.

  When she arrived at May’s house, shortly after six, she found Connie was gone, no one had replaced her and the patrol car sitting out front had vanished. What the heck?

  Inside she found May curled up on her sofa, dressed in jogging clothes, a blanket across her knees. Her face still bore the bruises of the attack, a reminder that would take weeks to completely vanish.

  “Morning,” she said. “Where is everyone?” Because it disturbed her to think May had been sitting here alone, probably in fear.

  “I sent them away. I’ve gotta get used to being in this house by myself or I might as well sell it and move away.”

  Kerri totally understood that. It sounded like what she’d done but this seemed rather soon for May to reach this point. “Are you okay with me being here?”

  “It’s different. You don’t feel like a guard.”

  That felt good. Kerri smiled. “Want me to make you some breakfast or something?”

  “Sure. I’ll come with you.”

  May unfolded from the couch and together they went into her small kitchen. “It wasn’t so bad,” she said. “Once we got past the witching hour, I was fine.”

  “Witching hour?”

  “He came after me around two. Same as Sandra, I heard. I relaxed some then and Connie has kids who must miss her. Anyway, I’m mostly fine.”

  Kerri wished she believed that would last.

  “Good news,” she told May as they set to work together with coffee, eggs and toast. “Cadell Marcus, the dog trainer?”

  “I know him.”

  “He’s bringing you your very own dog today.”

  May’s eyes widened. “Really?” Then a smile spread across her face. “Oh, wow! Then I won’t be afraid at all!”

  Kerri grinned. “Probably not.”

  “Well, you have Snowy.”

  The dog’s ears pricked at the sound of his name, but he didn’t move.

  “He’s for other things,” Kerri answered. “I don’t think of him as protection. But Cadell is bringing you a dog that will protect you.”

  When breakfast was ready, they sat together at her small kitchen table.

  “How’s Sandy doing?” May asked.

  “Still struggling to come out of the coma. I called this morning to find out. I may go visit her later.”

  May frowned. “I feel so bad for her. Everybody loves her. She’s just a fantastic person. I so hope she recovers.”

  “And what about you?”

  May smiled as best she could despite the bruises. “There are good things about a small town, but I’m not sure where I’m going to put any more casseroles, cookies or pies. Or flowers. My spare room is full of them. The scent would probably knock you over.”

  Kerri laughed lightly. “It’s good they care so much.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m not complaining. Not really. But so much food. And the problem is, I can’t donate it. It might offend someone if they see their casserole on a table at the soup kitchen. But maybe I could get someone to take most of the flowers to the hospital.”

  May sighed. “They’re all so nice, but I could use a bit of a break, too. While Connie was here yesterday evening, I thought I was throwing a party. How can I explain that I’m worn out?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of went through the same thing. People want to do the nice thing right away. Some of it would still be nice a month later, and maybe more welcome.”

  “Exactly.”

&n
bsp; Kerri insisted on cleaning up after the meal. “You’re still moving like you hurt.”

  Afterward, they settled in the living room.

  “I’m afraid to open any windows,” May said abruptly.

  Kerri nodded. “How would you feel if I opened one while I’m here? You wouldn’t be alone.”

  “That would be so good. This place needs an airing.”

  When Kerri resumed her seat, she noticed that May was staring into space. “May? Are you all right?”

  The woman answered hoarsely. “I remember.”

  Kerri leaned forward intently. She’d been carrying a small recorder in her jacket just in case, because she might miss something. She pulled it out, turned it on and set it on the coffee table. “What do you remember?”

  “Him. I remember him.”

  “His face?”

  “Just his eyes. He had this ski mask on. It was so dark...” May trailed off.

  Kerri waited, not wanting to disturb the stream of recollection.

  Eventually May continued. “I couldn’t see the color. Too dark. I guess that means he had dark irises, because I could see the whites of his eyes. Even as dark as it was out there, I caught them glistening. God, he looked like a monster.”

  “He is a monster,” Kerri answered gently. “Anything else?”

  “The knife. It glistened, too.” She almost whispered. “It was like something out of hell. It seemed to glow brighter and brighter.” At last she looked at Kerri. “That’s impossible.”

  “Maybe your brain fixated on it and made it seem that way. It was the threat. When I looked down the barrel of a gun once, it seemed to grow huge.”

  May nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe. Anyway, I saw his eyes. Not much help. Then when he stood up—”

  Again Kerri waited, knowing patience was essential here. Her heart was beating faster, though. Maybe there was more. An essential bit to finding this creep.

  “I don’t want to remember this!” May’s voice broke. “But after—afterward I saw him standing over me, zipping his pants and—Oh, everything seemed so hazy. I hurt all over and felt paralyzed and there he was zipping up. It’s just a snapshot, but he seemed to have trouble with the button on his jeans, and his shirt...there was something embroidered on the pocket. Like he worked for someone...”

  May buried her face in her hands. This could be useful information, but she needed to give May some time before pressing her further. She rose and went to sit beside the woman, gently patting her knee. “That’s helpful, May. Just take it easy. It’s horrible to remember, I know. Just horrible.”

  May lifted a tearstained face. “Will I ever forget?”

  Kerri couldn’t honestly say she would. “It’ll get easier. That much I know.”

  “Okay.” May snatched a tissue from the box on the end table beside her. “Who do I tell this to?”

  “That’s what I’m here for. I just recorded it. I have only one question.”

  May nodded slightly.

  “Can you describe that much to a sketch artist?”

  “It’s so little!”

  Kerri reached for her hand and squeezed it. “If you can do it, you’ll be surprised at the detail you remember when you start seeing the artist draw it. Maybe nothing important. Maybe something big. But you don’t have to do it right away.”

  “Will you stay with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  Ivan saw the cop car missing from the second victim’s house. He guessed the cops must have lost interest in her, which was a good thing. Meant he was in the clear.

  Then, when he rode past a while later, he saw another cop car pull up. Well, well, well. It was the K9 trainer with a dog. Were they giving a dog to the woman?

  He almost laughed. A little like closing the barn door after the horse escaped.

  Then the Addison woman stepped out with her big, shiny new badge and talked to the man before taking him into the house.

  Hell, Ivan wanted to see what happened next, but decided for the sake of his own safety, he couldn’t hang out here. He rode off again, then stashed his bike behind a small store before walking back.

  Now the man was leaving, without the dog. It was almost impossible for him not to laugh this time. He wasn’t interested in that woman any longer. But he was interested in Kerri Addison.

  Because the whispers were growing that she was learning things about him.

  Ivan was past the point of knowing how much he was overhearing and how much was being generated inside his own head.

  He just knew the Addison woman had to go. And if that Canady guy didn’t show up tonight, then tonight it would be.

  * * *

  Kerri spent a couple of hours with May and the sketch artist. May was hesitant at first, and more often than not said, “That doesn’t look right.”

  But the artist, a middle-aged woman with a limp, was patient. Evidently she had plenty of experience with a victim gradually finding the way to what looked right.

  That “looking right” was a hard thing to explain. It was seldom conscious, but people had quite a memory for other people, and when they knew something wasn’t right, it was usually for a good reason.

  So the artist erased with a big rubber eraser the parts May didn’t like. Occasionally she just tossed a sheet of drawing paper aside and started fresh, including many of the details from the earlier drawing that May hadn’t dismissed, and waiting for May to correct or add.

  And add she did. By the time May was satisfied, they had the guy’s posture, the way he looked down at her, his size, including a slight beer belly, and a hint of the shape of his nose. Then there were the eyes.

  The eyes were the most arresting part. The shape May described was probably enough to use facial recognition software, but only if they had enough comparison photos. And this was no photo.

  Kerri looked at the artist. “Any way this could be plugged into facial recognition? Especially the eyes?”

  The woman shook her head. “The shape is good enough, but another detail is how far apart they’re set, and there’s no way we can tell that from a drawing. A photo, yes. But not from a sketch.”

  Well, there went that, Kerri thought. “It’s a great drawing, May.”

  May leaned back against the couch, reaching for a bottle of pain reliever. “It’s more than I thought I could remember.”

  The artist began packing up, saying, “If you think of anything else, let Kerri or the department know. I can come back and we can add any detail you want.”

  The dog had been an immediate hit with May. By the time the artist left, Hoss was curled up on the couch beside May, seeming to love it every time she dug her fingers into his ruff. He also seemed to sense she was sore and injured, because he avoided the usual doggy stuff of kisses and his head on her lap.

  He liked Snowy; they exchanged tail wags, and then both settled down after a good sniff.

  “You don’t have to stay here,” May told Kerri. “I’m so grateful for Hoss.”

  Cadell had made it clear the dog would protect her. “He’s been trained to do that,” he’d said.

  “Strange name for a dog,” Kerri remarked.

  May gave a small laugh. “But I like it. He’s big.”

  After reassuring herself that May would call her, and understanding May’s need to regain her own space, Kerri phoned for a lift and Deputy Redwing showed up to drive her and Snowy home. Fear would still trouble May, she knew. Despite the dog, the fear would creep back, and fear didn’t answer to logic. It just was. She ought to know.

  The warm spell still endured, but by the time Kerri and Snowy climbed the steps to her apartment, night had begun to send its first dark tendrils of cooling temperatures. Once inside, she fed Snowy and relieved him of his working vest.

  Then she studied the leftovers in the fridge
and decided on the salad they’d ignored last night.

  Then she had nothing to do except feel the emptiness of the apartment around her and miss Stu’s comforting and steadying presence. And his strength, and the massive attraction she felt for him.

  And the fear that he would start withdrawing. God, what had possessed her last night? Of all the bad timing in the world, she had chosen the worst. Her fears and hang-ups had risen like a wall between her and everything she wanted, and she’d spewed them.

  Worse, she wasn’t sure she’d torn down any of that wall. Maybe she’d just added bricks. She sure as hell couldn’t blame Stu if he pulled back and decided they should just be friends without any of the so-called “benefits.”

  She kept glancing at the clock, counting the hours. He’d said he’d come between one and two with breakfast. She had no doubt that he would. He was a man of his word.

  The test would be if he remained afterward. She prepared herself for disappointment.

  The silence and emptiness surrounded her more and more strongly as the evening passed. She ought to turn on the TV, but she knew it wouldn’t distract her.

  Instead, she sat there growing uneasy and she couldn’t explain why. Something didn’t feel right. Silly. How many nights had she already spent alone in this apartment? A lot. It was familiar. Did she think she had a ghost or something? Ridiculous.

  But ridiculous or not, she pulled her collapsible baton out of her bedroom closet, extended it and placed it beside the door, on the hinge side. That made her feel a bit better.

  Nor did it feel as absurd as sitting here with a pistol on her lap would have felt, even had she been able to possess one.

  There. Satisfied, she tossed the tennis ball for Snowy, watching him race around the apartment until he decided to amuse himself with a knuckle of rawhide.

  She told herself to take a nap so she’d be rested when Stu arrived. She wouldn’t miss him because she’d hear his knock. But she couldn’t settle down, which meant that Snowy followed as she paced, and then she grew annoyed with herself because she wasn’t allowing him time to relax and pursue his own amusements.