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Authors: RACHEL LEE

Tags: #ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE

DEFENGING THE EYEWITNESS (17 page)

BOOK: DEFENGING THE EYEWITNESS
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“I’m afraid,” she murmured a long time later.

“Of what?” He ran his hand along her back reassuringly.

“Of remembering more. That was bad enough. I don’t have to remember the murder, do I?”

Even as the words were torn from deep within her, she knew it was a question no one could answer. She could no more stop the memories if they decided to return than prevent the amnesia after her mother’s murder had happened. Her subconscious was in control of this, had always been in control. She couldn’t flip the lever to guarantee forgetfulness any more than she could have prevented it in the first place. That single photo image that her mind had dug up had cast her back into a terror beyond description. She didn’t need any more of that. Or at least she didn’t think she did.

“I don’t know,” Austin answered presently. “I hope not.”

She chewed her lower lip. “But maybe I could remember something useful.”

“I doubt it. You already told me what we suspected, about how he managed to leave no evidence behind. Since you said he was a ghost, my guess is that his face was covered, too. So what could you possibly remember? His eyes?”

She screwed her eyes shut. “There was a screen over his eyes.”

“Like a beekeeper suit?”

“Yes.” Her eyes popped open. “Something like that.”

“Okay. Corey?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t push at it. Please. I’m inclined to agree that you don’t need to remember the rest.”

“Me, too. But I can’t seem to escape the image of him. It’s hanging there. How do I banish it?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Right now he was definitely feeling pretty useless. Finally, he said, “You’ve got to be exhausted. If you can sleep, sleep. It might help put some distance between you and the memory.”

At least he hoped it would. Eventually she did fall into slumber, but he kept watch over her, anyway, alert for any sign of distress. After that blast out of nowhere, she might have nightmares.

But eventually he slept, too.

* * *

When Corey opened her eyes, she found Austin propped on his elbow, watching her.

“Feel any better?” he asked.

It was like trying to find a sore tooth. She prodded around inside. The image of the “ghost” seemed to have receded. It was still there, but didn’t grip her as it had last night. “I think so.”

She glanced at the clock. “Oh, man, I need to get to the shop.”

“How about having someone run it for the day. Someone you trust?”

“There’re so many people...”

“Corey, do you ever get sick?”

She sighed and turned back to him. “I’ll call Maureen. She fills in for me on occasion.”

“Great idea.”

“Except for one thing. This is changing the pattern you didn’t want to change.”

“You’ve been sick before, right? Besides, I think you’re fragile today.”

She didn’t like the idea of being fragile, but had to admit he had a point. What if she had another memory at work? She’d freak out all her customers and friends. She called Maureen, claiming she had a really bad headache. Maureen, as usual, was only too glad to fill in.

“I ought to hire her,” Corey said as she hung up. “I’m getting to the point where I think I could afford an assistant.”

“Tell me about her.”

Talking about Maureen got them all the way out of bed and into the kitchen for coffee. Maureen had been a friend of the family forever, and now that she was retired she nearly lived at the shop. She taught some of the sewing and knitting classes because she enjoyed it, and participated in most of the circles. She also had four rambunctious grandchildren whom Corey adored.

Gage called Austin before they were on their second cups of coffee, just about the time Austin was suggesting he go and pick up something from the bakery for breakfast. Corey was glad of the interruption because she didn’t want to be alone. Not at all. For some reason, that memory, abbreviated though it was, had scared her even more than the notes, and they were creepy enough.

Maybe she was afraid that she’d remember something else, something awful, and feared that it might happen when she was all alone. Or maybe she was more afraid of that creep out there than she had thought.

All the tough talk about dealing with him sounded like a whole bunch of bravado right now. Deal with him how? They didn’t even have a plan. Until he decided to act, there was no way to know who he was. How did you prepare for that?

“Thanks,” Austin said into his cell phone. “Could you do me a favor and pick up some rolls or something at the bakery for our breakfast? Corey’s staying home today. I’ll explain when you get here.”

Relief flooded her. At least for now she didn’t have to be alone. Then a thought occurred to her. “Won’t Gage coming over here let this guy know we’re worried about the notes? And that the police are involved? I thought we wanted to avoid that.”

Austin shook his head. “There’s no perfect plan for this one. If Gage scares him off, we can’t prevent it. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Why?”

She watched him think it over, waiting impatiently.

When he spoke, he did so slowly. “The notes aren’t a threat per se. Not yet. Plus, it was Gage who brought me here. If he’s paying that close attention, then there’s no reason to assume Gage isn’t just dropping by to see me. If he thinks otherwise, it might push him to act quickly rather than withdraw. Whatever he’s up to, Corey, he apparently thinks it’s time to do this. If he was going to stop, why wouldn’t he have stopped when I moved in? When Gage brought me here. How would he know that wasn’t about his first note?”

She nodded slowly. “You think he feels compelled?”

“I’m wondering. Besides, none of it matters if he thinks he can get to you safely. And we’re going to make it look that way, aren’t we?”

She felt her heart stop. “We are?”

“I thought that’s what we were discussing last night. Tomorrow you go back to normal activity. Tomorrow you act like nothing’s going on. But you won’t be alone. Regardless, judging by his timing on these notes, you should get another one soon. They’ve been coming closer together.”

“If you can judge by three notes, yes.”

“Then if we haven’t scared him off, I think we can expect another one by the end of the week. If it doesn’t come...well, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“I hate those words.”

He smiled. “Most of us do.”

Gage arrived twenty minutes later with a big bag of croissants, bagels and doughnuts. “Whatever you don’t want will make my deputies happy for the rest of the day,” he answered when Corey remarked how much he’d brought.

She brought out plates and poured coffee, trying not to notice that her muscles pretty much felt like soft rubber. The croissant she chose and lightly buttered melted in her mouth. Gage and Austin went for the doughnuts.

“I got the files from the Denver P.D.,” Gage said. “Everything they have, according to them. It’s way too much for me to bring over here, especially if you think there’s any chance this guy might be watching. You’ll have to come read them at my office.”

“Did you review the documents?”

“Last night. Nothing important that I could see. This guy was a ghost.”

Corey dropped her croissant, and felt an icy shudder run through her.

“What?” Gage asked.

“Corey remembered something last night,” Austin answered. “She said a ghost killed her mother. From her description it sounded like the culprit was wearing a beekeeper suit.”

Gage arched one eyebrow. “I’m sorry for my choice of word, Corey.”

She shook her head, but her mouth had gone dry and now her hands were shaking. “I don’t want to remember any more of it.”

“Of course not,” Gage said swiftly. “Of course you don’t. There’s no need to. Some things are best forgotten. Are you okay?”

She managed to lift her coffee without spilling it and wet her mouth. “I will be.”

Gage hesitated, watching her, then turned to Austin. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this right now.”

“No!” The word burst from Corey. “I’m right in the middle of this. How much protection does ignorance give me?”

Neither man said anything for a couple of minutes. They waited until she was able to once again nibble at the croissant and drink her coffee. God, she hated feeling like this, as if she were in a dark tunnel surrounded by demons, unable to know which way to run.

But even as she nearly caved to her fears, she remembered the little girl who had hidden in a closet and refused to talk for days. Was she going back to that? Did she even want to?

“Hell, no,” she said aloud. “If this is the same creep who killed my mother, I want him caught. I don’t care what the risk is. I’m not going to let him ruin the rest of my life.”

Coming in on the middle of her mental conversation must have surprised them, but both of them caught on quickly.

“Well,” said Gage, “there’s one thing I can promise you. He won’t be able to run around town in a beekeeper’s suit.”

“Which means,” Austin said, “that he’ll leave evidence.”

“If he attacks me.” Corey could no longer even pretend that wasn’t this guy’s goal. The notes made no sense any other way.

Silence fell again, then Austin spoke. “There’s no other way to get him.”

“I get that. Believe me, I get that. I’ve had enough. I want this done and over with. God, I’m at risk sitting in my own house, working in my own shop, all because I don’t know who he is or what he’s planning to do. So let’s get on with it because I’m so sick of this. There’s no reason not to think he’s the man who killed my mother. No reason at all. These notes are too directed. Remember the first one?
I remember you but you don’t remember me.
That’s no joke. He meant it. He was there.”

Austin nodded slowly. “That may be the most important of the notes, after all.”

“Viewed from this perspective, I have to agree,” said Gage. “Nothing strong enough to take to the police. No evident threat. But maybe that first note said it all.”

“I want him to pay for what he did,” Corey said. Strength had returned to her, and she stood up. “Oh, man, do I want him to pay. He killed her and locked me up in a cage of terror all these years. Living half a life. And now he thinks it’s amusing to taunt me? Scare me again? I don’t think so.”

She faced the men. “I don’t care why he did it. All I want is to take him down. And if that means I have to wiggle like a worm on a hook and put myself in danger, then I’m damn well going to do it.”

Austin was looking at her with something between admiration and concern. “Hold your horses there, Corey. We can’t go at this foolishly.”

“Then give me a plan. I have had enough.”

Chapter 12

“T
he simpler the plan, the less likely it is to get screwed up,” Austin said. “We go with what we originally talked about. You and I appear to go our separate ways. Gage can’t heighten any kind of security around you because it might be noticed. No change there. I’ll have to keep a loose circle around you myself. I can do that by pretending to job hunt while you’re at work. If he was paying any attention to me at all when I first arrived, then he would have noticed I often went to Mahoney’s in the evening. I suggest that I resume that habit. I’ll look like I’m out of the picture, but I can slip out the back and start circling again. Besides, how many people can he keep an eye on at one time? He sees me go into the bar, he’ll assume I’m there for a couple of hours. I’ll arrange to do that right around your closing time.”

Corey and Gage nodded.

“He’s most likely to strike when you’re alone. Obviously. So let’s pinpoint the times of greatest risk.”

“Sunday afternoon at the shop,” Corey said. “When I close up at night. Walking home late.”

“Not so much walking home,” Gage remarked. “There are still a lot of people on the streets.”

She nodded, thinking about it. “You’re right. I’m mostly alone in the shop on Sunday afternoon, although someone could walk in, and then again when I close in the evening. I usually spend about half an hour tidying up and taking out the trash.”

“The alley would be a great place for him to wait,” Austin remarked. “I saw it when I took the trash out for you that one time. Be sure you don’t go out there unprepared.”

“Should I get a gun?” she asked.

Austin and Gage exchanged looks. “Unfortunately,” Austin said almost gently, “that makes the situation even more dangerous. You don’t want to inadvertently arm
him.

“He’s going to come armed,” Corey said. “He stabbed my mother. That’s probably what he wants to do to me. Besides, if someone fired a gun in that alley, you could hear it all over town.”

“People would come running,” Gage agreed. “Lots of people.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “I want to think some more about this. I know I can’t put any kind of watch on Corey, not officially. Hell, word would leak out. It always does. So even if he didn’t notice increased patrols, he’d probably hear about it. Damn grapevine.”

Then he looked at Corey. “You still up on all that self-defense you studied in high school?”

“She’s still plenty good,” Austin said. “As I learned at the gym on Sunday.”

Gage smiled faintly. “Good.”

“I’m going to work,” Corey announced. She was starting to feel as if she was waiting for her own execution. Maybe she was, but the only way to deal with this was to stay busy. In fact, it felt good to have the decision made, even if was only to wait for this murderer to act. Facing it all made her feel stronger than just worrying about what might be going on, what might happen.

She really
was
fed up. She quickly cleaned up and changed into her work slacks and polo. When she came out, the two men were still at the table.

Austin spoke. “We’re going to go to Gage’s office to review the file.”

“Good idea,” she said briskly. “Let me know if you come up with any details or a better plan.”

She stepped out the door, sewing bag in her arms, and headed for her shop. This time, though, she had one hand inside the bag and it clutched a very sharp, very strong metal knitting needle.

There were different ways to be armed.

* * *

“What got into her?” Gage asked Austin as they drove toward the sheriff’s office.

“Memory. For a while last night I was afraid it would get the better of her, but from what I’m seeing now I guess it galvanized her instead. Maybe a guy dressed like a beekeeper isn’t as frightening as not remembering him at all.”

“Maybe. All I know is that I do not like this. Period. I would give my left arm to have a bead on the guy so she didn’t have to take this risk.”

“I’d give more than that,” Austin replied.

Gage shot him a sharp look. “Like that, is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got a job to go back to. She’s got a life here. I just know I wouldn’t hesitate to step between her and a bullet.”

“Whether she knows it or not, a few people around here pretty much feel the same. I just wish I knew how to put that to use.”

“Grapevine?”

“We put light to shame with the speed of gossip around here. And if anybody’s ever figured out how to keep a secret, I don’t know about it.”

Austin laughed. “Well, you wouldn’t, if they kept a secret. But I get your drift.”

* * *

He thought of himself as a Righteous Man, devoted to fighting the worst of sins, saving his community from moral pollution. Since no one else would do it, the task fell squarely on his shoulders. Not that he minded.

The time was approaching to cleanse the town. His neighbors were good people, and didn’t deserve to have to live with a pervert among them. Their children didn’t deserve to be exposed.

Not much longer now.

Briefly, that morning, he thought there might be a hitch, a need to delay. The sheriff had gone to her house. Was the law worried about his little notes? He was sure he hadn’t written anything to worry them. Worry
her,
yes, but not them. The notes looked like a prank. A little nastiness that had no meaning.

He’d been very careful about that. But she knew who she was, she knew her own perversion, and her fear must be growing.

If the sheriff was worried, though, he could wait a while. He could always wait if necessary. He was the arrow in the bow, ready, but until he unleashed himself, nothing need happen.

He saw Corey come out and walk to work as she always did. Alone. The others didn’t come with her. A short while later the sheriff and his friend came out and headed downtown. He saw them laugh together in the car.

So it was all right. It would happen.

Back at home, he debated about the last note. He had intended to send it today or tomorrow, to put the last shaft of terror into her heart. But maybe it would give away too much. She would know why he had come for her. He could tell her.

Maybe the note would have more impact if it arrived after she was dead. Then the whole town would talk about it and understand they had a protector.

He studied the words on his screen.
She deserved it. So do you.

Maybe something a little stronger, if it was going to arrive after she died. Something clearer. Certainly the way it read now might be enough to get the sheriff’s attention.

On the other hand, it didn’t explain much.

He sighed, rubbing his temples as his head began to ache. He had expected to have to make adjustments to his plan, but this one stumped him.

Before or after?

Worded differently?

Damn, he wished he could have a beer, but it was too early.

One last note, his pièce de résistance. He needed to plan this very carefully.

Of one thing he was absolutely certain, though. Corey’s remaining days were few.

* * *

The evening quilting circle had been canceled because one of the women needed to go to Casper for the birth of a new grandchild, and another was stuck at home with two children who had colds.

Since she had very little traffic in the evenings while the sewing groups met, Corey decided she should close up early. Maureen had left at four because she needed to babysit.

So even if Corey hadn’t come in at all, the shop would have closed early. She made the decision easily. There were too many other things going on in her life right now to hang around here for another few hours to help possibly no one. She quickly cleaned, Maureen had already taken out the trash, and after only fifteen minutes she was locking the front door and heading home.

She didn’t know if Austin was around somewhere as he had promised, and she wasn’t especially worried about it. It was still really early, there were plenty of people on the streets.

One thing she knew for certain, she absolutely wanted to get home to Austin.

This was a totally new experience for her, and she found herself smiling, even though she really had little to smile about. She’d seen many of her friends fall in love, or at least develop crushes, but she’d never had the experience herself.

For the first time she understood why they became so preoccupied and let so much else slip. All day long her thoughts had been filled with Austin. She wanted to see him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted...Austin.

A definite preoccupation going on here. Maybe not for the good, but better than thinking all day about that shard of memory that had returned to her last night.

She was also feeling relieved because she hadn’t recovered any more of her memory. Maybe that would be it. She didn’t think she ever wanted to remember exactly what that guy had done to her mother. Hearing the details had been bad enough.

Then another thought struck her and dropped a weight on her shoulders. Was she hiding behind thoughts of Austin? Turning him into another security blanket? She had certainly developed enough of those protections over the years, and she didn’t want to think she was now using him as another barrier.

How could she even be sure? Looking back over her life, she had a full appreciation of the games her mind could play, the defenses it could build. It was a master strategist at preventing her from dealing with the intolerable.

Here she’d been so determined this morning to face this down, whatever it turned out to be, whatever the risks involved, and now she was running home in hopes of seeing a man?

A man who had promised her nothing, who would be leaving in a couple of months. Certainly before the next semester, Gage had said. Three months, he had said.

So what the hell was she thinking? Was she thinking at all or just reacting?

Then, almost bitterly, she remembered that she could be dead in a few days. How could she know? She was taking a huge risk here, a risk she needed to take, but what if she couldn’t deal with this guy? What if Austin didn’t get there quickly enough? It was possible. She might be on her own just long enough to get her throat slashed.

Damn, she hated the direction her thoughts were taking. She couldn’t seem to straighten them out for more than a few minutes at a time. Determination one minute, absolute certainty, and then massive confusion all over again.

Like it or not, she had to face the fact that she’d spent most of her life reacting. Just reacting. The only things she really thought through had to do with her business. Everything else was based in emotional traumas.

She was a mess.

When she got home, Austin was already there. He smelled as if he’d just stepped in, radiating fresh air.

“Hi,” he said, and smiled. “I visited the grocer again.”

“What are we doing this time?”

“It’s all ready. He showed me how to make galumpki. Galopki? Danged if I remember. He also called it something else. Anyway, they’re basically stuffed cabbage rolls. He was already making it, and I rolled a few myself for practice and guess what he sent home with me? Dinner. It’s simmering on the stove right now.”

She sniffed and finally picked up the scent of tomatoes. “You must have just started it.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting you so early.” He stepped toward her. “Did something happen? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m not. I’m a mess. But nothing happened. I’m going to change.”

At least he didn’t press her or follow her as she headed to her bedroom. She changed into her favorite jeans, a cotton sweater and slippers. He was going to want to know why she was a mess, but how could she explain to him what she couldn’t explain to herself?

She was feeling a little cranky by the time she returned to the kitchen. A fresh cup of coffee was waiting for her, along with a slice of Danish.

“My family believes that food always helps,” he remarked. “Dig in.”

Well, at least he didn’t ask. She drank half the coffee and finished the Danish before she realized she
was
feeling better. “Your family’s right.”

He laughed. “Not always.” He checked the pot simmering on the stove, then joined her.

She spoke before he could question her. “Did you learn anything from reading the files?”

“No, sorry to say. I’ll give them credit for leaving no stone unturned, but they didn’t find a thing to give them direction. No one saw anything, no one heard anything. No forensic evidence other than that the killer had to be right-handed and that he used a common hunting knife. No way to track it.”

She shuddered, and for an instant she glimpsed blood in her mind. A memory? Or simply an image conjured by what he said? She couldn’t tell.

“Corey?” All of a sudden Austin was squatting beside her, looking at her with concern. “You just paled. What’s wrong?”

“Mental imagery,” she answered. “I don’t know if it was a flashback or just something I created when you talked about the stabbing.”

He swore quietly and reached up to run his fingertips along her cheek. “I’d like to kill this man with my bare hands.”

“Join the club.” Then she turned her head and looked straight at him. “Have you killed anyone before?”

“Never had to. Thank God. But I’m beginning to change my view.”

“Me, too,” she mumbled.

He brushed her cheek again. “You didn’t look very good when you got home, either. What’s going on, Corey?”

“Self-examination,” she admitted. How far did she want to go with this? Explaining the train of her thoughts to him would leave her utterly exposed. No secrets, no safe little emotional hidey-hole. Did she trust him enough to express her doubts about herself?

But as she looked into his dark eyes, she realized that she did. They had shared a deep intimacy already, but sharing her thoughts and feelings was an even bigger intimacy, one that seriously frightened her.

He waited, showing a patience that was truly amazing, leaving it to her to decide whether she wanted to explain. Finally, she took her courage in both hands and decided to tell him. He was always truthful with her, and would be truthful about this. Maybe a little honesty would settle the mess inside her.

BOOK: DEFENGING THE EYEWITNESS
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