Killing Me Softly (21 page)

When he exhaled again, he stood aside to let her in. It was Dawn who stepped directly into her path and stood nose to nose with her. “If that happens again, you're out of here and on your own. Killer ex or no.”

“There would be no killer ex if not for the two of you!”

“There would be no killer ex if not for
you,
you mean. You're the one who hooked up with that lowlife to begin with. You're the one who stayed when you knew better. You're the one who didn't go buy a damn handgun and take care of your problem yourself. And you're the one who chose to live a blatant lie, not to mention let a good cop risk his career for you, by not facing up to the trouble you created. You, Sara. Not us.”

Olivia/Sara didn't answer that. She dropped her gaze, and then her head followed. “You're right.” She lifted her head again and turned to look at Bryan, but he was busy staring at Dawn in what looked like surprise.

“I'm sorry for hitting you,” Olivia said, drawing Bryan's gaze back to her.

He nodded. “I'm sorry for blowing your cover.” Then he glanced at Rico. “Since you're not peppering me with questions, I assume she filled you in on the way out here?”

“Yeah. I'm up to speed,” Rico said.

“Well, you're here. Might as well come in.” Dawn moved aside then, and the professor came in. Rico picked up the bags and followed, closing the door behind them.

The other woman looked at Dawn again. “I prefer to be called Olivia, not Sara.”

“But that's not who you are.”

“It's who I've been for the past sixteen years. It's who I intend to keep on being.”

“Even once the threat is removed?” Dawn asked, searching the woman's face.

“Sara Quinlan died a long time ago. I remade myself when I took Olivia's identity. I'm different now. I'll never go back to what I was before.”

It was absolutely true; Dawn sensed it. And it made her understand the other woman's violent reaction. She wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of losing the new life she'd created, of being forced to become Sara again.

And yet, no matter what her reasons, if she raised her hand to Bryan again, she was going find herself on the receiving end of a kick in the teeth.

“Something in here smells great,” Rico said. It was a weak effort at breaking the tension in the room, but since they all wanted that, they let it work.

“Olivia fed us the last time we saw her. I figured reciprocation was in order,” Dawn said. “I'll get it.”

Bryan met her eyes, gave her an encouraging smile, then said, “Rico, why don't you pull your car around to the back, out of sight? That's where ours is. And, uh, Olivia, you can take your bag upstairs.”

She looked surprised, and even Dawn sent him a frown before she realized why he hadn't offered to carry the bag himself. And it seemed Olivia understood, as well.

“You don't want me left alone with Dawn,” she said softly. “You still don't believe I'm not the Nightcap Strangler.”

“I don't believe you
are,
either,” he returned, without missing a beat. “Until I'm sure one way or the other, I'm not taking any chances.”

She nodded. “And yet you agreed to let me come here.”

“Well, the possibility of you getting killed because of something I did isn't one I like much, either.” He nodded at the staircase. “Top of the stairs, then to the left.”

She picked up her bags and went up the stairs. Dawn
stood with her back toward the kitchen, arms folded. “That's the room I was going to use,” she said.

“Well, there are only two bedrooms. You can't share with her, because she might kill you in your sleep, so it's me or Rico. I figured you'd prefer me. And if you tell me I'm wrong, my feelings are going to be hurt irreparably.”

She shrugged as if she didn't much care either way and headed into the kitchen, where she started taking cups from the cupboard, lining them up on the counter, filling them with coffee. “So you expect her and Rico to share?”

“Either that or he can take the sofa.”

“What if they share and you take the sofa?” she asked, teasing, not at all serious.

“You promised to stay close to me while they're here, remember?”

“I remember. And it's a promise I intend to keep.” She turned, two filled mugs in hand, and saw the look on his face. He almost looked nervous.

She decided to give him a reason to be. After taking the mugs to the table, she went back for the other two, while Bryan followed with the tray of still-warm buns.

“To tell you the truth, Bryan, the idea of sleeping in your arms is pretty appealing right now.” He opened his mouth, but she moved quickly closer and pressed a finger to his lips. “Even if that's all we do.”

He met her eyes, and she lowered her finger. “It has to be,” he said.

She shrugged and said nothing. But inside her mind, she heard a longing voice whispering,
God, I hope not.

Olivia came back downstairs and joined them in the kitchen. She was quiet, but not in a despondent way. She seemed more watchful. Wary. Her wide eyes moved constantly, like those of a gazelle grazing a savanna full of sleeping lions. If she could have perked her ears, she would have, Dawn thought, suddenly reminded of Freddy.

The other woman sat at the table, sipped a cup of coffee, even tried a few bites of a cinnamon bun, but she was so stiff that Dawn thought she would break if she made a sudden move.

In an attempt to fill the silence, Dawn asked after the large mastiff. “Where's Freddy?”

“With a colleague,” came the quiet reply. “I should have just brought him along. I hardly know what to do without him.”

The sound of a car door closing out back preceded the thudding of Rico's footsteps on the deck.

Bryan flipped on the outside light, unlocked the patio doors and sent him a wave, but Dawn noticed that only from the corner of her eyes. She was too busy watching Olivia to fully look Rico's way. The other woman's tense expression tightened even more until the outdoor light revealed that it definitely was Rico approaching, and then it eased noticeably. She finally relaxed slightly in her chair and exhaled deeply.

Rico came in, tossed the keys on the counter, set down the heavy-looking duffel he was carrying and headed for the table as Bryan flipped off the outside light and locked the door.

“We have to go right back out there, pal,” Rico said.

Bryan lifted his brows. “Why's that?”

“I brought a small arsenal.” Rico shrugged. “Just in case.”

“You signed them out? Rico, someone's gonna wonder what the hell you're up to if you—”

“Relax, Bry. It's my personal collection.”

Bryan cocked an eyebrow at him. “I didn't know you had a collection.”

“Neither did I,” Olivia said softly.

“Why would you, Professor? We barely know each other.”

“I'd have thought you might consider informing someone if you intended to drive them around in a four-wheeled weapon of mass destruction, Officer Chavez.” Her tone might have been teasing—or not.

Rico grinned at her. “Don't worry, it's not a WMD. There wasn't a bullet in a chamber. All the ammo is in that duffel—” he nodded toward the bag he'd just brought in “—which was lying on the backseat. Guns are in the trunk.”

“So what have you got?” Bryan asked.

“A 10, 12 and a 20 gauge, a .30-06, two .38s and a .44 Mag, plus my police-issue 9 mm.”

Rico took a big bite of his cinnamon bun, closed his
eyes in pleasure, then washed it down with a swig of coffee. “Damn, that's good. You make that, Dawn?”

“The Doughboy did most of it,” she said, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of pleasure at the praise, even though she was still shivering over the gun collection.

“So many guns,” Olivia said with a visible shiver. “God, I hate guns. They're so dangerous.”

“People are dangerous,” Rico said. “Guns are tools.”

“Weapons.”

“Anything can be a weapon. A hammer can be a weapon.”

“Yes, it can,” the professor replied reasonably. “But that's not what it's made for. You can't pound a nail with a Glock. And…having all these guns around makes me a little…uncomfortable.”

“Well, you might change your mind on that if your gangster boyfriend shows up to kill you,” Rico pointed out.

She blinked across the table at him, then lowered her head a little. “I imagine you're right. I didn't mean to…judge. Actually, it's probably just that they remind me of…my old life. The one I left behind.”

Rico's expression softened instantly. “I get that. I totally get that.”

Bryan finished his bun, went to the door. “C'mon,
Suave,
let's get the guns inside in case we need 'em.”

Rico shoved the remainder of the pastry into his
mouth, nearly more than it could hold, and surged to the door.

Bryan got as far as the door and then hesitated, turning back to Dawn.

She frowned and waved a hand at him. “It's sixteen feet away, for crying out loud. She couldn't strangle me that fast if I sat here and let her. Could you, Olivia?”

Olivia shot her a shocked look, and then she came very close to smiling. “I don't know. I never timed it.”

Every eye swung toward her. Bryan and Rico looked dead serious. Only Dawn got the joke. She rolled her eyes as Olivia shook her head slowly. “I was kidding,” she said.

“Go get the damn guns, guys,” Dawn muttered.

Olivia nodded in agreement, and the two men went outside. Then Dawn got up and went to refill her coffee cup.

“You won't be able to sleep,” Olivia said.

“That's kind of the plan.” She turned, leaning her back on the counter and taking a sip. She saw Olivia's eyes dart toward the back door, then back to her, before her eyebrows went up and her lips pulled into a small smile.

“I really am sorry, Olivia,” Dawn said softly. “I hope when all this is over, we can…put it behind us.”

“If we both survive it,” she said.

“You sound like you doubt that.”

Olivia's face turned as expressionless as that of a figure in a wax museum. “If you knew Tommy, you'd doubt it, too.”

“You're more afraid of him than you are of Nightcap, aren't you?”

The other woman nodded. “
Way
more afraid.”

Dawn tipped her head to one side, studying the woman. Her hair pulled up, neat as a pin, her clothes conservative and no-nonsense.

“It's hard for me to imagine you being with someone like that,” she said softly.

“Me, too,” Olivia admitted. “It's like it all happened to a different person.” She rose from the table, picking up her mug and carrying it with her as she moved closer to the door, and looked out at the starry night and the dark water beyond. The dull roar of the falls was barely audible, but it was still there, even with the doors closed. “I was young. Stupid. No self-esteem, no sense of…well, when I try to preach it to my students, I call it female empowerment.”

“Girl power.” Dawn raised a fist, feeling a deep connection with this woman, and growing more and more certain with every moment she spent with her that she was no killer. No threat.

The door swung open, and Bryan walked in with a long hard-shell plastic gun case in each hand. He set them down and glanced from one of the women to the other.

Dawn gave him a nod, and he turned and went back out.

She stayed where she was. “You must have found some kind of courage, though, turning him in the way you did.”

“He'd have killed me if I hadn't.”

“Because you wanted to leave him?”

Olivia met Dawn's eyes, shook her head. “Or because I stayed. Or because it rained outside. Or because he had a bad day. Tommy didn't need much of a reason.”

Dawn had never knowingly met a woman who'd been a victim of domestic violence before. It was strangely compelling, and also tragic.

“I was down to a handful of options,” Olivia said. “If I stayed, he'd have killed me sooner or later. If I tried to leave, he'd have killed me on the spot. All that remained was for me to kill him or turn him in. And frankly, I wish I'd had the strength to turn the tables on him, use…violence against him. But I didn't have it in me.” She turned her eyes to the guns, still in their cases, leaning against the wall. “I don't know if that's still the case.”

Dawn was stunned. But she didn't doubt it. The trembling in Olivia's voice told her the woman meant every word.

Rico came in then, carrying two more big gun cases. Bryan was right behind him, with a black suitcase.

He set the case on the table and then flipped it open.

Four handguns nestled in precisely shaped cutouts in a deep foam pad. He nodded. “Nice.” Then he brought over the duffel bag Rico had carried in earlier, and re moved several full clips and several boxes of ammo, lining them up on the table beside the suitcase.

Rico said, “Thanks. I think we should each keep a handgun on us at all times, just as a precaution.”

Bryan nodded, glanced at Dawn. She nodded, too, and then Olivia reached out, and picked up the Glock 9 mm. She took a full clip, snapped it into the handle and worked the action, all in the space of a couple of seconds. Turning, she pointed the gun toward the patio door, her grip professional, her stance perfect. Then, nodding, she expelled the clip, ejected the chambered bullet and tucked the gun into her jeans. When she looked up to see everyone staring at her in stunned surprise, she said, “What? I said I didn't like them, not that I didn't know how to use them. I'll take this one, if you don't mind.” She turned around and started to leave the room, but stopped short when Bryan walked right up behind her and pulled the gun out of her waistband.

“I do mind, actually.”