She Can Tell (32 page)

Rachel had to go. She was the only one who knew what he’d done.

He turned back to the album. One finger traced Barbara’s picture. So beautiful. So vulnerable. And he’d destroyed her. She’d never been the same. Harry had been the one she’d loved. Grief had tipped her precarious hold on life. Like water tipping from the spout of a pitcher, Barbara’s interest in living spilled out.

When he’d killed Harry, he’d killed Barbara just as surely as if he’d murdered her with his own hand. His heart wrenched in his chest, his grief raw as a fresh wound. For two and a half decades he’d buried his guilt. Then Rachel had come back and dug it all up.

She knew. She knew everything. She had to be eliminated.

Not even the scalding water pouring from the showerhead could erase the tingling all over Rachel’s body. Shit. Shit. Shit. How had she let this happen?

There was no getting him out of her system. If anything, sex had simply entrenched him deeper into her heart. She even smelled like him. She grabbed for the shower gel and lathered up. The scent intensified. She put the bottle to her nose. A familiar aroma infused her nostrils. Mike’s musky aftershave wasn’t aftershave. It was his damned soap.

She leaned her forehead against the cool tile. She’d just covered her entire body with the very stuff she was trying to wash away. She was going to carry He-Man’s scent with her for the rest of the day, and as much as she tried to dislike that fact, she couldn’t. If anything, the scented steam rising around her was soothing. It made her heart ache and her body want him again. She’d never intended for their quickie to be anything more than sex, but he’d clearly been making love to her. The emotion in his eyes, the way he touched her with painstaking gentleness, was unmistakable.

Her first impression of him had been right. He was not a casual sex kind of man, and she’d trod all over his heart. As the cabinet full of antacid confirmed, being big and strong as a superhero didn’t make him invulnerable.

Five minutes of hot pulsing water didn’t loosen the sore muscles of her back. She gave up and turned off the water. Mike’s bathroom was as spare as the rest of his house, but she’d found clean towels stacked in the cabinet under the sink. She squeezed the water from her hair, dried off, and dressed. She borrowed Mike’s comb. Her search for a hair product of any type came up empty. He obviously didn’t have many overnight guests, an observation that shouldn’t please her.

How was she going to handle what had happened between them? Running into the bathroom one second after they’d made love had been downright rude. Mike deserved better than that. He deserved better than her. She owed him an apology at minimum. An explanation would be better, but she wasn’t sure she could get the words out.

I’m terrified because I feel the same way. But I can’t be with you because I’m afraid I’ll go crazy any day now.

Sounded lame, at least to someone who hadn’t witnessed the debacle of her parents’ marriage.

With nothing else to do, she unlocked the door and braced herself to face him. The bedroom was empty. She stepped into the living area and stopped at the sight of Mike, Sean, and Lieutenant Winters huddled around the dining room table. All three men looked up as she walked in.

The lieutenant’s face reddened and his mouth opened in shock. He blinked at her for a few seconds, and then anger slid over his stunned face. He swiveled his head to glare at Mike “You
are
involved with her. Vince was right.”

Mike turned to the lieutenant. “Pete—”

Still gaping, Pete stood up. “I can’t believe it. I went to the council for you. I told them there was no way you’d ever compromise a case or the department. I stood up for you. I stuck my neck out for you.”

“It’s not what it looks like.” Mike stood and took a step toward Pete.

Pete backed away. He jammed his hat onto his head and strode out, giving Rachel a wide berth. The door slammed behind him.

“Mike, you didn’t compromise anything,” Sean said quietly. “If anything, you worked twice as hard.”

Mike dropped back into the chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, he’s right. I broke the rules and paid the price.”

Rachel’s chest tightened. Mike wasn’t to blame. She’d selfishly set out to seduce him today, and she’d succeeded. It was one thing to risk her own heart. But had she weighed what deepening their involvement would do to him personally and professionally? No. She hadn’t. Once again, she’d acted without thinking. Just like her mother. “This is all my fault.”

“So, you’re both human. Get over it.” Sean tossed a file across the table. “Now let’s get to work. My ride’s waiting outside.”

Avoiding eye contact, Rachel slid into the seat opposite Mike.

“You asked me to dig up dirt on Lawrence Harmon, Vince, Blake Webb, and Cristan Rojas. Let’s start with Vince. He’s been spending an awful lot of money for a sole proprietor of a small retail establishment. Since he acquired Tanya, Vince has renovated his entire house to the tune of two hundred grand. He’s hired a dozen different contractors, including your buddy, David Gunner.”
Sean glanced at Rachel. “Though I found nothing incriminating in David Gunner’s background, except a couple of speeding tickets.”

“David worked for Vince?” Why hadn’t he mentioned it?

“It was last year, and half the contractors in town have done work for Vince. Makes you wonder what else David hasn’t told you, though, doesn’t it?” Sean spread photos across the table. “Like why he was protesting the project at Lost Lake.”

The pictures were a little fuzzy, but David, standing a head taller than everyone else, was clear enough to recognize even in the back of the crowd.

“Why would a contractor be opposed to a housing development?” Sean tapped David’s face. “It’s also interesting that Vince got so cozy with Lawrence Harmon during the same time period. Lawrence Harmon has been investigated multiple times for various shady business practices, but no one has been able make any of the charges stick.”

Rachel rubbed her forehead. Vince was up to no good. No shock there. And David had worked for him a couple of years ago. “What could any of this have to do with me?”

“We’re not sure.” Mike lifted the picture of David and set it aside. “Maybe nothing. But Vince and Harmon are involved in the Lost Lake project, which has been vandalized repeatedly just like your farm.”

“Also, Vince has been trying to get Mike fired for the past year. I’d like to pin something on his ass,” Sean added. “He’s up to something, and he’s afraid Mike’s going to figure it out.”

“But why would he try to kill me?” Rachel asked. “Seems extreme.”

“It does,” Mike agreed. “What did you find out about Rojas?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Sean stabbed a paper on the table with a forefinger. “Which just makes me suspect him more. I don’t need a report to tell me he’s a killer.”

Sean’s eyes went Siberian, and Rachel was glad he was on her side.

Could Rojas really be her stalker? They’d had their disagreements, but he’d never frightened her. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She rubbed her biceps. They’d spent many hours together, mostly arguing. Then he’d suddenly changed his attitude. He’d been in her house, with the girls and Sarah.

“Did you find anything on Blake Webb?” Mike asked.

Rachel’s answer was a reflex. “Blake would never hurt me.”

“He’s still in love with you.” Mike’s tone—and his eyes—turned icy. “How far would he go to get you back?”

Rachel chewed a thumbnail. Blake
had
hurt her, just not physically.

“Spoiled rich boys are used to getting what they want. Plus, he has a sealed juvie record.” Sean dug a set of keys out of his pocket and handed it to Mike. “Is there anyone else you need me to check out?”

Blake had a record?

Rachel tipped her head forward onto the heels of hands. Lies and omissions cartwheeled through her head. Was anyone completely honest? Across the table Mike studied his reports. Yeah, He-Man was the last Boy Scout.

“No thanks, Sean.” Mike followed Sean to the door.

Sean stepped onto the stoop. “Call me if you need me. Anytime.”

Mike closed the door, and silence fell on the house with the subtlety of a fog horn.

“What now?” Rachel’s bare toes curled into the carpet.

“Now we go see David and see if he can explain what he was doing at Lost Lake. Then we visit your father.” Mike went back to the table, sorted papers and pictures, and slid them all back into the envelope. “In addition to all the people we discussed with Sean, there is one more possibility. Your stalker could be the same person who killed Harry Boyle. I don’t like coincidences. This guy tries like hell to run you off the farm, but after the skeleton is discovered, he escalates. Now he wants you dead.”

“I don’t understand. I was just a child when this guy died. Why would his killer care about me?”

“There’s only one reason I can think of.” Mike’s gaze locked on Rachel’s. “Because he thinks you can tie him to the murder.”

The offices of Parker Construction occupied a suite of rented rooms in a converted two-story house on Seventh Street. Mike turned into the narrow alley that led to a small parking lot behind the building. At the back asphalt rectangle, three white commercial vehicles emblazoned with the Parker Construction logo were parked in front of a large detached garage. Mike took a spot close to the house, between a minivan and a sedan.

Rachel stared at the rear entrance. “It looks exactly the same.”

From the grim expression on her face, Mike thought that wasn’t a good thing. She looked like she was headed in for a root canal. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Fine.” She opened the door and climbed out of the SUV. Mike followed her up the steps to the back door, which had been modified as the main entrance. Parker
Construction shared a building with a law firm and an accountant. Rachel led the way down a narrow hall to a half-glass door with the firm’s name spelled in black block letters. She rapped her knuckles on the door and opened it.

The office had once been the house’s formal parlor. A bay window framed a view of the street. One-by-one tile samples were stacked on the commercial carpet in the corner. A row of cabinet doors in different styles and finishes leaned against the far wall. An old wooden desk occupied the center of the room, its surface littered with stacks of papers and envelopes. Dwarfing the office chair, David looked up from the laptop open on the blotter. Surprise widened his eyes, and he snapped the computer closed. “Rachel, what are you doing here?”

Not the friendliest welcome. Mike wondered what the Hulk had been browsing on his PC. Internet porn?

“Hi, David. You remember Mike?” Rachel hung back, and Mike noticed she stopped just out of arm’s reach.

“Sure.” David stood and shook Mike’s hand with a mitt the size of a bowling ball. “I heard about your suspension. That sucks. Will Martin’s an ass.”

Ugh. Likely the entire town knew by now. How could this have happened? Mike’s gaze was tugged toward Rachel. Oh, yeah. That’s how.

“Do you mind answering a few questions for me anyway?” Mike asked, the fact that he was not the police chief anymore settling on his chest like a cinder block. “I’m still trying to find out who’s trying to hurt Rachel.”

“I guess not. Have a seat.” David sat back down in the big leather chair behind the desk.

Mike and Rachel took the metal two chairs opposite the desk.

Rachel craned her neck to peer into the adjoining room. “No secretary?”

“She quit a few weeks ago. I haven’t had time to replace her.” David straightened. “Do you think Sarah might want the job? I’m getting buried here.”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Rachel shrugged, her eyes wary as she watched David.

Mike pulled a photo out of his pocket and handed it to David. “Is this you?”

Something flickered in David’s eyes before the shutters came down again. Irritation? Or anxiety. “Yeah. Why?”

“I was wondering why a contractor would protest a new development. You specialize in upscale kitchens and baths, right? Wouldn’t these new houses mean more work for you?” Mike circled topics. Once he brought up the murder, David might be a lot less cooperative.