I Can See You (33 page)

Bathroom break. Jeremy Lyons
. Noah closed his eyes. His tired brain was making
delayed, haphazard connections. In the heat of tracking Girard, they’d lost
sight of the most obvious connection. “Like Eve’s list. Girard had to have had
access to it. If he didn’t, we have to comb through the people that did. Like
Jeremy Lyons, Eve’s advisor’s secretary. Who knows things like her worst fear.”

“Shit. Did you get any of those background checks
back?”

“They weren’t on my desk. I’ll check tomorrow. Right
now, I need to sleep.”

“You want me to drive you?” Jack asked, his tone kinder
than it had been all day.

“No. I’ll be okay. But thanks.”

“Then I’m going home.” Opening the door, Jack
hesitated. “Thanks for the coffee.”

But Jack didn’t move and Noah frowned. “Jack? Go home.
Katie will be waiting.”

Jack’s lips twisted and when he spoke, it was with
self-contempt. “If I’m lucky. She’s only there because I’m on the cover of a
goddamn magazine. And everybody knows it.” He turned his head to look Noah in
the eye. “Including you.”

It was true. Katie had latched on to Jack the day
after the story had hit the stands, just another woman in what had been a long
line over the years. Noah remembered Eve’s description of Jack.
Alone in a
crowded room
. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I will apologize to Eve. But I didn’t know how else
to apologize to you.”

Noah looked away, suddenly as emotionally overwhelmed
as he’d been the night before when he’d called Brock. “We’re a fine pair, Jack.
Both of us are going home to empty beds. Yours just has a warm body in it.”

Jack got out of Noah’s car. “And on that bright note,
I’m going home.”

Noah had pulled out of the parking lot behind him when
his cell vibrated. “Webster.”

“It’s Micki. I just got the message you left about
Eve’s keys. We didn’t find them at the scene. We combed the entire area with a
metal detector. They weren’t there.”

“Thanks, Mick. I appreciate you looking.” He hung up,
worried. Eve’s keys should have been there, somewhere. Somebody had picked them
up. Which meant somebody had free access to Eve’s apartment. And to Eve. He
shivered, suddenly much colder.

He did an abrupt U-turn. At least he could fix that.

Tuesday, February 23, 10:15 p.m.

“Here you are.” He’d brought the evening cup of tea to
the woman in his bed. It was a nice habit. The woman liked the tea and on the
nights he went out, he added a little something more to put her right to sleep.
He could come and go as he pleased and she’d never know. Then when she woke,
he’d be sleeping beside her. Anything ever went wrong, instant alibi. There was
beauty in simplicity.

“Thank you.” She took the cup, frowning when the cat
at her side jumped from the bed to wind around his legs. “Ringo likes you
better. Why does he like you better? I’m the one who brought him in from the
snow.”

Because I put him there, knowing you’d bring him in
. Ringo the cat had belonged to Martha Brisbane but
had curled happily in his lap as he’d made Martha clean her hovel at gunpoint.
It had given Martha great pain to watch her cat bond with the man who’d
promised to kill her. Who’d followed through on that very promise.

He’d decided to keep Martha’s cat. It was a memento he
could enjoy in front of everyone. Visitors would pet the cat and only he would
know from whence it had come. Letting the woman believe the cat rescue was her
idea ensured her compliance without threat. He liked to save his threats for
important things. He’d only had to strike her once and she’d learned quickly.
But there were other, better ways of keeping a woman in line.

“Must be the liver on my hands,” he said with a smile.
Or the blood. Metaphorically speaking, of course
. He’d have more
metaphorical blood on his hands very soon.

“Must be,” she said, still frowning at the cat. She
sniffled a little. “Well, at least I can breathe when he’s with you. I think I
have an allergy.”

Which was why she’d never choose a pet on her own. Not
unless you counted as pets the snakes she kept in test aquariums in her
research lab. And he did not. A snake was not a pet. A snake was a weapon of
terror. Just ask Christy Lewis.

“I have work to do,” he said. “Drink your tea. And
don’t wait up.”

Tuesday, February 23, 11:00 p.m.

On her knees counting beer bottles in boxes, Eve did
the evening inventory with a disgruntled sigh. “Sal, I wish you’d talked to me
before you did that booze run. We’re almost out of vodka.” They went through an
amazing amount of vodka. Most of the cops she’d met came to the bar to drink. A
lot.

Except for Noah, a recovering alcoholic who’d ordered
tonic water for a year…
So he could watch me
. It should have made her
uncomfortable. Instead, it hurt. A lot.

Sal’s shoes stopped next to her and she realized she
was staring into the box, the heel of her hand pressed to her chest. “What’s
wrong, Eve?” he asked quietly.

Everything.
“Just tired,” she said, sitting back on her heels so she could see him.

Concern creased his forehead. “Go home. We’re light
tonight. I’ll do inventory.”

Only three customers lingered, but David had called to
say he was running late. “My ride’s not here yet, so I might as well finish.
But thanks.”

“Jeff told me what happened, with that reporter. You
have to be more careful.”

Her wrist still hurt from Buckland’s grip. “Sure. Like
it’s
my
fault,” she muttered.

“I never said that,” he snapped. “Stand up. I can’t
get down there to argue with you.”

Automatically she stood. Sal’s bad leg didn’t bend
well. “I don’t want to argue with you,” she started, then stopped when he
brought a bottle of wine from behind his back. She frowned at the label.
“Nonalcoholic? What’s this?”

“Peace offering. I’m sorry about the pool, Eve. I
don’t know why it hurt you, but it did, and I would never hurt you on purpose.
Can’t you tell me what’s really wrong?”

Her eyes stung. This man had given her so much, so
many chances. “Sal…” She looked away. “Did you ever want something so badly and
know you could never have it? Something that everybody else has and you can
only dream about?”

“Every damn day,” he said quietly and she looked at
his leg before meeting his eyes.

He was surrounded every day by men and women living
his dream and he served them, always with a smile. “I guess you do.” Hastily
she scrubbed her wet cheeks.

“Honey, what do you want so badly that you think you
can’t have?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Just to be normal, I guess.”

“We both know that’s a total bullshit answer. But
you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” He put the bottle in her hands. “Forgiven?”

She kissed his cheek. “Of course. Thank you. I have a
houseguest. We’ll enjoy this.”

“Uh… no,” he said. “It’s for you to take to Trina’s on
Sunday. Web can have this.”

She looked at the nonalcoholic label, then back up at
Sal. “You knew about Noah?”

“Of course. Back when he was in the academy he’d come
in here, all swagger and bravado, just like all the young guys do. But after
his wife’s funeral he changed, fell way down the rabbit hole. He climbed out,
though, and didn’t come back here, for years.”

Eve’s breath caught in her throat.
His wife’s
funeral.
Now she understood. Grief had driven him into the bottle. She
wondered what had brought him out.
Poor Noah
.

“How many years?” she whispered.

“Nine or ten, at least. Then last year somebody
retires, one of Web’s friends. He darkens my doorstep for the first time in
years, doesn’t even take off his coat.”

Eve remembered it well. It had been the first time
she’d seen Noah come through Sal’s door. He’d sat alone, the party going on
around him, a tonic water in his hand.

Sal lifted her chin with his finger. “He stared at you
all night. Didn’t think a soul noticed him, but I did. Anybody that pays
attention to you has to go through me and Josie. But I knew Web. He’s a good
man. And I was happy he was finally coming out of that cocoon he wrapped around
himself when his wife died. Don’t close your doors so quickly, Eve. You’ve made
so much progress since you first came here, don’t let it stop with the
outside.” He touched the tip of his finger to the scar on her cheek.

She sniffled. “I guess I’m lucky you’re not a mean
boss.”

“So you’ll take the bottle to Trina’s?”

No,
she
thought sadly, but she made herself smile at him. “Sure.”

He didn’t smile back. “Trina’s right. You are a lousy
liar.”

She was saved a reply by the jingling of the door.
Automatically she turned. Stopped. And stared as Noah came through the door.
Her chest went so tight she could barely breathe and she drank in the sight of
him, greedily, desperately, too tired to try to hide it. It didn’t matter.
Everyone seemed to have known anyway.

Noah pushed the door closed and for five painful beats
of her heart he looked at her.

She felt the bottle being taken from her numb hands.
“Speak of the devil,” Sal said quietly. “I’ll just go in the back.”

Noah took off his hat and she could see the flash of
his eyes. He was angry.
Oh
,
no
, she thought, panic rising in her
throat.
Not another one
. Not another dead woman. Crossing the room, he
tossed his hat to the bar without a glance.

Then before she could draw a breath to speak, his
hands framed her face and his mouth was on hers, hot and hungry and she
couldn’t breathe at all. He ended it as abruptly as he’d begun, pulling back
far enough to see her eyes. “That was real,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“And that wasn’t for my
job
. That was for
me
.”

She stared up at him, stunned, her breath coming in
short pants.

“And for you,” he added quietly. “Especially for you.”
He took his hands from her face and she realized she gripped the lapels of his
overcoat. Her right fist throbbed, but she didn’t let go. Wasn’t sure she
could.

He pried her right hand from his coat, pushed her
sleeve past her wrist. His face darkened. “Buckland put his hands on you. He
bruised you.”

Her heart beat like a rabid hummingbird and her knees
were still weak as she saw the dark bruises that had formed from Kurt
Buck-land’s fingers. “How did you know?”

“Jeff Betz called me when he left to pick up his wife.
He’d heard about this morning, figured I’d want to know about tonight. Would
you have told me, Eve?”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation. “He grabbed me
because I wouldn’t look at some pictures he had in an envelope. He said I’d see
you weren’t such a ‘good guy.’ ”

“What were the pictures?”

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t look. He got mad and Jeff
made him leave. He was scary, like he was wound too tight and the rubber band
broke.”

His lips twitched, surprising her. “Is that your
clinical diagnosis?”

She didn’t smile. “He’s dangerous, Noah. You need to
be careful.”

His eyes narrowed and she knew he was still angry
despite the little injection of humor. Deliberately he looked at the wrist he
still held with gentle fingers. “Just me?”

Her knees steadier now, she tugged her wrist free and
took a step back. “Okay, both of us. He didn’t look quite sane for a minute.”
She touched the tip of her tongue to her lip. It was still tingling,
distracting her from the memory of Kurt Buckland lunging over the bar.
That
wasn’t for my job.
“Jeff also told you that Trina was here.”

“Yeah. He… overheard,” he said and Eve rolled her
eyes.

“He eavesdropped on a private conversation. You cops
are so nosy.”

“If we weren’t nosy we wouldn’t catch many bad guys.
And you should know there is no such thing as a private conversation here. Did
Buckland hurt your hand?”

“No, just the bruise on my wrist.”

“You’re going to press charges in case you need a TRO
against this sonofabitch.”

She knew he was right. “All right. So if you know
about Trina and Buckland, you also know Dr. Pierce was here.”

He winced at that. “I’m sorry. I tried to keep you out
of it. I should have known Carleton wouldn’t let it ride. He thought he could
help you. I was going to tell you about him and let you make the decision, but
I guess that’s water under the bridge now.”

“I guess so. He could be right. He might be able to
help me.”

“But?”

She moved her shoulders. “I’m not comfortable with
that kind of help.” She turned away from him, kneeling back down by the beer
box, discomfited when he crouched beside her. He was big and warm and she
wanted him to kiss her again far too much. “No other victims, right? I was
worried when I saw you that you’d found another.”