Killing Me Softly (18 page)

“Maybe she just developed a taste for it. Maybe she couldn't stop. And maybe, once Johnny Lee Jackson was convicted of her crimes, she didn't see any reason to change her name and run away. Maybe she'd built a good life here and wanted to keep it. And maybe she thought she'd finally beaten this thing. That she could stop killing.”

“But then something set her off,” Bryan said, picking up the thread. “And she started all over again.” He lowered his head. “And what you just said might very well apply to Nightcap no matter who it is, if Johnny Lee really wasn't the guy.”

Dawn closed her eyes for a moment. “What do we do now, Bryan?”

He sighed, knowing how much she would hate what
he was about to say. “We have to take this to Nick. We have to, Dawn.”

“Couldn't we just talk to her first? Ask her why she's been lying all these years, see if she has some kind of reasonable explanation for it all?”

“We're going to go to a possible serial killer, tell her we know who she is and wait for her to come up with a logical explanation?” he asked. “And she will, she sure as hell will. She'll spin some fairy tale to buy a little time, and then kill us in our sleep before we have time to verify it. Or take off and start a fresh killing spree somewhere new. We can't risk that.”

“I just can't believe Olivia would kill anyone.”

“Sara. Her name is Sara. And killers don't always look like big bad boogeymen, Dawn.”

“Hell, I know that. Look at my father. He was charming, charismatic—even handsome, according to some. But…but Olivia—Sara—she doesn't
feel
like a murderer to me.” Then her head came up. “What about the baby? This means Olivia Dupree is the woman who gave birth before her murder.
Not
Sara Quinlan. The police were searching for the wrong set of relatives. Olivia might have piles of them who would want to know about the existence of this child. Aunts, cousins, grandparents. Not to mention that there must be a father somewhere.”

He nodded. “That would explain why the professor was so upset by the news. She must be thinking the same things. That there's a child out there somewhere without a family, at least partly because of her lie.”

“We have to go talk to her again, Bryan.”

“No. We have to take this to Nick.”

“No. Not before we talk to her.”

“Dawn, if it's her, she wants you next. Don't you get that? She's been leaving items belonging to you with the bodies. She's warning you, toying with you like a cat with a mouse. I'm not willing to let you get within a hundred miles of this woman again. No. We take this to Nick.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “How did she get the things from my purse? We didn't even meet her until after that started.”

“Maybe she was there and you just didn't see her. Everette Stokes wasn't there, and he's still a suspect, too. It doesn't matter.”

“Let's talk to her. What if all of this was—I don't know—an effort to get away from something? From some
one?
What if it has nothing to do with the Nightcap killings? What if—”

“What if she kills you? What if I lose you because you're here trying to help me? How am I supposed to live with that, Dawn? How?”

She blinked, lowered her head and tried to quell the rush of raw feeling that rose up in her chest at those words and, even more, at the emotion with which they'd been delivered. “I didn't think…about that.”

“And how about what happens to me in all this? What if we tip her off just enough to let her get rid of all the evidence and leave me holding the bag for her crimes?”

“I'm sorry. You're right. I just didn't think—”

“About me. You didn't think about me, how it would impact me. Just like you didn't think about how it would impact me when you left without a word, or refused to see me or talk to me for the past five years. Just like you didn't think about asking me to help you through it, or even asking me to go with you. You just didn't think about me, Dawn. You never do.”

He threw the photo onto the bed. It landed far too lightly to be satisfying. Then he returned to his former task of gathering up their things. “We're going to the cabin. And I'm calling Nick to have him meet us there.”

She moved up behind him, slid a hand over his back, up to his shoulder, and let it settle there as he went still.

“I've been incredibly, unforgivably selfish. And shortsighted. And careless with your feelings, Bryan. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. And I guess now I understand why you don't…feel the same way about me anymore. God, who would?”

He opened his mouth, but words failed him. He couldn't think of a damn thing to say and was, frankly, embarrassed by his emotional outburst.

“At least I get it now. I really am sorry, Bryan. Please believe that.”

He sighed. “I didn't mean to lose my temper. I'm stressed out, that's all.”

“It needed to be said. I deserved it and then some. But I promise, as badly as I treated you back then, that's
not what I'm doing now. I want to help you, Bryan. I
am
thinking of you now. I'm not thinking of anything
but
you.”

He turned then, searched her face. “And you're risking your life by being here, trying to help me. I know that. I'm sorry I lost it.”

“It's been in there festering for five years. You had to lance the wound, I guess. Let the poison out. Maybe now it can…start to heal.”

“Maybe.”

“Go ahead. Call Nick.”

He nodded, reached for the cell phone Nick had given him and prayed he was doing the right thing.

 

They drove up a meandering dirt road so deserted Dawn couldn't believe it led to
anywhere,
much less to anywhere she might want to be. She never would have followed through on this plan if Bryan hadn't been with her. Then again, she wouldn't have needed to, would she?

But he
was
with her. And that made it okay, somehow.

Maybe she'd better not explore that particular line of thinking to its conclusion just now. Better to focus on the matters at hand. They needed to solve the murders. They needed to keep Bryan out of police custody until they did. And they needed to be someplace where neither the cops nor the Nightcap Strangler could find them.

Whatever lay at the end of this twisting, tree-
smothered cow path would fulfill all those requirements. Even if she was beginning to expect a shack, or maybe a lean-to, rather than the comfortable cabin Bryan had described.

It was dark, and the going was slow. A Ford Taurus was not built for off-roading, and that was what this journey seemed like to her. They should have borrowed a tank or a pair of ATVs or something.

They hit yet another hole in the road, and it jarred her to her bones, even though the car was only moving at sixteen miles per hour.

“How much farther?” she asked, and immediately realized she sounded like an impatient child on her way to Disney World. Might as well have asked, “Are we there, yet?”

Bryan glanced her way and offered a strained smile. “Not much,” he said.

“That's good, because if this goes on much longer, I think we'll be leaving car parts on the road behind us.”

His smile broadened. “You think this is bad, you should see it in early spring.”

“It's
worse?
” she asked incredulously.

“It alternates between mud pits deep enough to swallow the tires, and humps that scrape along the undercarriage and eat mufflers. It's way smoother in the summer.”

“What about winter?”

“They put up a sign at both ends—Road Closed. No Maintenance. Seasonal Use Only.”

She nodded. “Proceed At Your Own Risk. I'd Turn Back, If I Were You.”

“Yep.” Then he pointed. “Just around that next bend, and—oh, there you go. Look.”

She looked, expecting to see the alleged
cabin,
but instead she saw three deer picking their way across the dirt track. A big fat doe and two smaller versions. No spots, but they had to be her offspring. And immediately a warm rush of familiarity rinsed through her, making her smile and feel like mush inside. “Been a long time since I've seen deer.”

“I'll bet,” he said. “I don't think city life agrees with you, Dawn.”

“No?” She wanted to scowl at him but couldn't take her eyes off the deer. The mother had spotted the car now, and she froze, staring unblinkingly at their headlights. Then her tail flipped straight up, a white flag that got her offsprings' attention. They looked at her expectantly in the instant before she bounded away. One graceful leap and she vanished into the woods on the other side of the road, with her two fawns racing eagerly after her.

When they were gone, Dawn finally turned to look at him. “Why do you say city life doesn't agree with me?”

He shrugged. “You look way better now than you did when you first arrived.”

“Is that an insult about how I looked then, or a compliment about how I look now?”

“Both?” he suggested, then made a face, as if
expecting her to punch him for the comment. When she didn't, he relaxed. “Your skin has more color. The dark circles are gone from underneath your eyes. Your hair's even shinier.”

“I see. And your explanation for that?”

“I think you've been eating better. And I think those pills you were taking to fend off your…visions…were no good for you.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Anything else?”

“You belong here. In Vermont. In the mountains. In the fresh air. In the country. With family. It's all good.”

“Right, except that there's a crazed killer after me.”

“Right, except for that.” He said it with a grin, but then his expression turned serious. “But I think it says a lot that you're healthier and better, even with a killer after you and on the run from the law, than you were just living an ordinary life in California. Don't you?”

She frowned as she mulled that one over, knowing deep down that he was right. But before she could construct a suitable reply, he was nodding toward the windshield. “There it is. Looks like Nick's already here.”

She peered ahead and saw lights in the distance, the gleaming gold rectangles of several big windows. And then, as they drew nearer, she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the place through the darkness.

There was a large gate in front, standing open, and a curved driveway that led to a log cabin that was far from the shack she had been expecting. Nick's car was
parked in front of a wide front porch, two antique rocking chairs its only inhabitants. The cabin was a simple two-story square, with a peaked roof and large windows up and down. It looked cozy and even welcoming, and she breathed a sigh of relief as Bryan pulled the car up behind Nick's and shut off the headlights.

“This is really…nice.”

“You sound surprised,” Bryan said. “I told you it was nice.”

“I was beginning to doubt you. Sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “I'll get over it.” He got out of the car, taking the keys with him, and Dawn followed, suddenly eager to see the inside. Bryan met her in front of the car and took her hand as they walked up the three broad steps to the porch, then to the door beyond, which was already swinging open.

Nick greeted them with a smile. “I was just starting to get worried about you two. Any problems?”

“Just trying to be gentle with the car,” Bryan said. “It's not made for back roads.”

Dawn was too busy looking around to make any snide comments about the so-called road. The huge fieldstone fireplace was aglow, even though it was a warm night, and the furnishings were rustic and male. Browns and greens. Typical guy stuff. The second floor was only a loft, with each stair made of a halved log, rounded on the bottom and flat on the top, and gleaming with layers of shellac. The main room had a cathedral ceiling, with a chandelier made of deer antlers as its focal point.

She grimaced a little at the antlers.

“They're fake, hon,” Nick said with a deep chuckle.

She looked over at him quickly.

“And I took down the deer and moose and bear heads I had mounted around the place, in your honor.”

Dawn smiled at him. “That was very thoughtful of you. Thanks. I wouldn't have been able to sleep with those marble eyes staring at me.”

He laughed. “I picked up a few groceries, brought in some firewood. I know it's summer, but it gets chilly at night, and the fireplace is the only heat I've got here.”

“It'll be plenty,” she said. “Really, Nick, this is incredibly nice of you. I know you're risking a lot by helping us like this.”

“What? My career as a cop? I'm retired, remember?”

Bryan shook his head. “She's right. You could go to jail.”

“I don't even know you're here. I haven't been up here since spring turkey season. Never thought to check it out. Totally forgot you had a key.” Then he dipped into his pocket and pulled out a key, handing it to Bryan. “Who's gonna say otherwise?”

“I'll never be able to repay you for this,” Bryan said.

“Oh, you damn well
will,
Kendall. Trust me, I'll think of something.” Nick slapped Bryan on the shoulder. “Come on, sit down by the fire.”

It was only then that Dawn noticed the slice of a giant tree that served as a coffee table. There was a pot
of coffee on it, along with three mugs and three small plates, each one bearing a heavy load of what looked like apple pie.

“You baked?” Dawn asked. “You
cook?
”

“Not unless forced. It's from the bakery in town. Fresh, though.” Nick sat in an oversize chair, and picked up a plate and fork. Smiling, Dawn followed suit, taking a spot on the matching love seat. She sampled the pie and closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Mmmm.”