Atonement (11 page)

“ … heard she was sleeping around.”

“Giselle claimed she was there when Dusty killed his wife. Saw the whole thing, she said.”

“I ran into her at the store, and she acted fine. Told me she just got a new job … ”

“Can't believe she did it.”

The Priest lowered his head so no one could see his scowl. All these gossips were breaking the ninth commandment with their slandering. The sad part was they were right about Giselle, and yet they couldn't resist the Devil's whispers to spread the word, tell everyone what Giselle had done.

The Priest left the crowd before he lashed out at the nearest sinner. Their depravity made him feel unclean, and to stand among them much longer would mean his own downfall. He would go to the Church, make penance, and cleanse his soul. Rid himself of the Devil's influence before he, too, succumbed to the Evil One's biddings.

Gathering the lapels of his coat in one hand, he burrowed deeper inside its warmth and stalked away from the mummers and flashing lights. Away from his handiwork. He'd been proud of the way Giselle's death had come about and how easily she'd bent under his will. And the pride had infected his mind and his heart, turning him from a humble servant into the thing he was meant to cure. The Priest came to Giselle's home, the place of her final atonement, to remind himself of his promise.

There were other commandments to fulfill and sinners who must atone. Once he sorted out the worst of the bunch, eventually the residents of Eider would repent.

He paused, slowly turned back to the continuing activity, and let his gaze wander over the faces of the people standing about. Some still leaned in closer to their neighbors and whispered lies. The Priest frowned. Perhaps it was time to locate the worst gossip in Eider and send a message to everyone: “You shall not bear false witness.”

In the beginning of his mission, he'd been unable to find a sinner right for the atonement of the ninth commandment. So many passed through the Church's doors guilty of this very sin, and yet they never confessed to breaking the commandment.

A smile curved along his mouth. And the one typically most guilty would be among those morbid sightseers, spreading lies, gathering more fodder for their verbal arsenal. It was here he'd find his next sinner, not inside the Church.

Sliding his hands into his coat pockets, he returned to the crowd. There would be many to choose from, but God would reveal the one. Once He had, The Priest would strike.

It was time for the town of Eider to quiver in fear.

Joyous barking greeted Con as he entered the house. Cadno spun twice then tore off across the laminate flooring, doing more slipping than running, heading for the living room. With a grin, Con followed his dog, coming to a halt when Cadno reappeared with his KONG. The thick rubber toy dripped with slobber. Someone couldn't wait. Dropping the KONG on the floor, the dog nosed it against Con's shoes and peered up at him with expectant black eyes.

Con ruffled the dog's head before he picked up the toy. The second he straightened, Cadno went fully alert and quivered in anticipation of what was to come. Every night when Con arrived home, dog and owner would try to outlast the other in a game of never-ending fetch. Eventually, he'd hide the KONG in some complicated place and send Cadno in search of it so the dog's instincts would remain sharp.

The MWD had been trained to sniff out terrorists and take them down. The KONG had been a reward and a means for his handlers to tell him it was time for a mental break and to have fun. Con continued the practice.

Giving the command to wait, Con hurled the toy down the hall, chuckling when Cadno twitched. He wanted to run so badly, but his deeply ingrained training kept him from disobeying. When Con released him from his order, Cadno broke into a full-out run, gripping the slick surface with his pads instead of his claws. The second he disappeared around the corner, Con ran to another part of the house.

Their game of hide-and-seek-and-fetch went on for a half hour. As usual, Con's arm gave out. He found a good hiding place for the KONG outside, buried under a thick pile of woodchips and leafy hosta plants, and let the dog do his job while Con changed into comfortable sweats and a T-shirt.

Today had been hell, and all he wanted to do was spend the evening in, eat a medium-rare steak with his usual veggies, and wash it down with a few pints of Guinness, while watching some Irish sitcoms a cousin from Mam's side of the family had sent him. After the tragedies of the past few days, Con needed some mind-numbing laughter.

He started up the special European DVD player he'd gotten from the same cousin with one of the discs, letting it play while he cooked his food. Con stopped halfway through to let Cadno inside, feed him, and slip him a pill for his arthritis. About the time Con was ready to sit down and eat, his cell phone started buzzing. Groaning, he tried ignoring it, but couldn't help peeking at the number on the screen. Damn it to hell. He muted the TV and answered the call.

“This better be good, Cassy, because I've got a nice steak starting to get cold.”

“Did you tell Nic that you knew me?”

Con rubbed a spot right above his eyebrow. “I alluded to it, yes. It was the only way to get her off my backside about something.”

The groan from the other end matched his earlier one.

“I guess it's better she knows sooner rather than later,” Cassy said. “Now that she's in the know, how do you want to proceed?”

“As planned.”

“Well, guess what? That plan isn't working on my end. In fact, that plan sucks.”

Remarkable, she sounded just like her older sister. Con grinned, glad Cassy couldn't see it. He got the distinct impression she'd just as likely slap him for being amused.

“Listen, we'll meet for breakfast at the diner and discuss our options,” he said. “Right now, Nic is consumed with trying to stay on these cases that have popped up, and I'm busy trying to keep up with her.”

“Speaking of which, what is going on?”

“Nope, not going there.”

“Con, I'm a cop, too. If I know what she is dealing with, it will help me better understand how to get through to her.”

He watched the silent, moving people on the TV screen. “Cassy, whatever she's dealing with goes beyond these cases and before she moved here.”

“I know that. Why the hell do you think I'm here?” Cassy sighed. “Think about it tonight; tomorrow we'll talk. I've got to get back to the house before she locks me out for good.”

“You don't have a key?”

“Yes, I have a key and a lock-pick set. But this is my sister we're talking about here. She'd find some way to bar me from the house for good if it suited her. Leaving me out in the cold would just make her day.”

“The two of you act like the bloody Brits and the Irish.”

Cassy used some colorful words he was fairly certain were spoken in German.

“Where'd you learn to speak like that?” he asked.

“Pop and his world-traveling days as a marine. He met my mother in Germany.”

“Is she German?”

“No,” Cassy's tone held a touch of nostalgia, “she's a true-blue American. Nic's mother, on the other hand, was French-Canadian.”

Which explained why Nic's first name was French. “Why are you telling me this, Cassy?”

“I don't know. If Nic knew I mentioned it, she'd probably strangle me. I better go. Tomorrow.”

Dead air met his good-bye. Setting the phone on the counter, Con drummed his fingers next to it. When he called Cassy, he had every intention of letting her manage Nic's problems. The “let Cassy be the bad guy to his good guy” ploy. But things with Nic weren't turning out to be that simple.

Shaking his head, he grabbed up his plate and glass of Guinness and then dropped into his recliner. He wasn't worrying about Nic tonight. Unmuting the TV, he skipped the show back to the part he'd missed while talking to Cassy.

Three bites in, the steak lost its appeal. Con glanced at Cadno sitting near the end of the footrest, staring at him with soulful eyes.

“How'd I get pulled into this mess?”

The dog's eyebrows did a back and forth bob.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I bloody offered to be the investigator in charge of officer-involved shootings. But when did I become so concerned with Nic?”

Cadno shifted around to the armrest and set his muzzle on Con's arm with a sigh.

“My thoughts exactly.”

He knew the moment he walked across the line from fellow officer to more: the instant Nic called him Con on the job and insisted he break a direct order. She'd offered a sliver of trust to him. When they'd worked together on the tractor joyriding incident, she'd always second-guessed him, never giving him an inch. Today had been a step in the right direction—he might get through to her after all.

There had to be a way to get to the root of her PTSD. It didn't just pop up; she had to have suffered some kind of trauma. And the most logical person to know—other than Cassy—was probably holed up in his office tonight trying to sort out what was going on in his town.

Con gathered his dishes and headed for the kitchen. After putting everything away, he picked up his phone and mulled over whether or not to call Shane. The click of nails against the wood flooring and the thump of Cadno's rump hitting the floor distracted Con. He peeked around the edge of the island and smiled at his dog.

“Maybe I'm jumping the gun here. Best to wait and talk to Cassy first. What say you, boy?”

The dog huffed as he lay down, closing his eyes. Life was so hard for a retired MWD.

With a shake of his head, Con set the phone down and moved around the counter to sit on the floor next to Cadno. Once he was settled, the dog shifted to lay his muzzle on Con's lap. Con stroked Cadno's head, letting his own head rest against the cabinet wall.

How far did he take this temporary partnership with Nic, knowing what he did? He would regret making the deal to let her stay on with the investigations for the time being. The police chief and sheriff chose Con to lead this thing because of his ability to stay impartial. His impartiality was in jeopardy, and he couldn't find a way out.

Somehow, someway, Con had to find a way to fix this, before someone else died. And he feared that person would be Nic.

The moment the sun crested the horizon, Con was out of bed. He took care of Cadno, then hightailed it out of the house and headed into Eider. He'd spent the better part of the night trying to come up with a plan of action for dealing with Nic, but the woman was so unpredictable, it was hard to come up with anything definitive.

When he pulled into the diner parking lot, he spotted Cassy's car parked between a pair of dirty farm trucks. She was certainly up early. Con adjusted his belt to get the gun butt under his shirt tail. He liked being one of the few officers able to wear civvies when he was on duty. Satisfied with the adjustments, he closed the truck door and entered the diner.

The place hummed with conversation and the clatter of dishes and metal on metal from the kitchen. The aroma of bacon, pancakes, and coffee hung heavy in the air. He scanned the diner, making eye contact with a few of the old men, until he spotted Cassy sitting on a stool at the counter. She had her boot heels hooked on the rung circling the bottom of the support post and was bent over a cup of coffee. Cassy was receiving furtive glances from the diner occupants. Ahh, small-town curiosity.

But he hung back when he caught sight of Walker and Jennings coming in the side entrance closest to Cassy's seat. Both men headed straight for the counter next to her. Con inched closer.

“Hey, Betty, can we get two of those specials to go?” Walker asked.

“Morning, Deputy Jennings,” Cassy said.

Con smiled when the young deputy jerked.

Jennings turned a bright shade of pink and nodded. “Uh, morning,” he said hesitantly.

On the other side of Jennings, Walker frowned. “You know this gal, newbie?”

“Um, yeah, I met her at Deputy Rivers's house.”

Bracing an arm on the counter, Walker gave Cassy the once-over. Con's baser side had to admit, in a contest between the sisters, Cassy definitely was the prettier one, but he wasn't an arsehole. Nic's mysteriously hard life had worn her down a bit, and she was a looker in her own “I'd rather knock your block off than kiss ya” sort of way.

“What's your name, ma'am?”

“Cassy,” Jennings interjected.

Walker frowned. “Cassy what?”

“That's it.” Cassy set her mug on the counter. “Just Cassy.”

Now was the time to make his presence known. If she wasn't giving out her last name, then she was probably sensing that Walker wasn't a friendly when it came to her sister.

“Well, what brings you to our li'l town?” Walker asked.

“Business.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that's none of your damn business.” Cassy slid off the stool. “If you boys would excuse me, the reason I came into town is here.”

Both deputies turned as she carried her mug over to Con. Walker scowled as he made eye contact. The bruise was darker today. That same thrill he got when he smacked Walker's head into the bar went through Con. The deputy needed a serious attitude adjustment, and he wouldn't mind being the one to impart it.

With a tilt of his head, Con bid the two “good day” and followed Cassy to a recently vacated booth.

“I see you've met McIntire County's finest.” He slid into a seat, leaving Cassy with the option to have her back to the wall, facing the diner.

She settled onto the bench. “If that's what Nic's forced to work with, no wonder she's pissy. By the way, I took the opportunity to order food. Betty said she knew exactly what to get you.”

“Much appreciated.” He pulled the bowl of half and half closer. “The kid isn't bad. Walker on the other hand … ”