Читать книгу In The Arms Of The Enemy - Carol Ericson - Страница 12
ОглавлениеCole pocketed his phone and perched on the edge of the bar stool. “How much do I owe you, Bud?”
“Do you want another beer?”
“I’m good. Just the check.” Cole fingered the soft, black stocking cap on the bar beside him. Caroline had left in such a hurry she’d forgotten her hat and umbrella.
Her attitude had set off alarm bells in his head. She’d been skittish, nervous. Hadn’t liked his questions. Didn’t seem to know much about the town where she had relatives. Why would a young, attractive woman come to a small town like Timberline to relocate when she’d never been here before?
She didn’t seem too concerned about his possible interview with Linda Gunderson. He’d make sure to follow through on that.
When Bud dropped the check, he pointed to the cap. “Caroline leave her hat?”
“Her umbrella, too.” Cole ducked beneath the bar and hooked a finger around the umbrella’s wrist strap.
“I can put it back here for her.”
“You know what?” Cole balled the hat in his fist and shoved it into the pocket of his down jacket. “I’m stopping by her cousin’s shop tomorrow, anyway. I’ll return them to her.”
“It’s on you, then.” Bud swept up the check and cash. “Change?”
“Keep it.” Cole shoved his money clip into his front pocket. “What do you know about Caroline?”
Bud winked. “Pretty gal, huh?”
Bud had just given Cole the angle to play. “Does she have a husband or boyfriend lurking around?”
“She’s single. Came here to stay with Linda Gunderson, her cousin, but then you know that, since you’re going to Timberline Treasures to return Caroline’s stuff.”
“You’ve never seen her out here before?”
“Nope, but I don’t know Linda that well. She rarely comes in to Sutter’s and never sits at the bar, although she’s no stranger to a little vino now and then.” Bud hunched forward. “I heard Caroline was running from some trouble.”
“Oh yeah?” Cole’s pulse ticked up along with his interest. “What kind of trouble.”
“Man trouble.” Bud tapped his temple. “Came to town sporting a shiner. The word is she’s running from a bad relationship, so you might want to think twice before heading down that road with her. Jealous boyfriends and husbands just might get you killed.”
“You got that right.” Cole rapped on the bar. “Thanks for the tip.”
When he stepped outside, Cole zipped up his jacket against the cold. Was Caroline’s jealous boyfriend Johnny Diamond? And had she taken care of the problem herself?
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING after breakfast at his hotel, Cole drove his rental into town. The internet connection had been back up, and he’d done a search of Caroline Johnson—perfect name to reveal nothing and everything. He’d run her name through the DEA database, too, but nothing clicked.
He pulled his car into one of the two public lots on Main Street. The small town of Timberline had done a good job preparing for the increased population and traffic from Evergreen Software, the company that had revitalized this former mining and lumber town.
He tucked Caroline’s hat and umbrella under one arm as he made his way to Timberline Treasures. Taking a deep breath, he flung open the door and a little bell jingled his arrival.
He didn’t know if Caroline would be working today or not. If not, he could always grill Linda Gunderson about her cousin. But he hoped Caroline would be here...because he wanted to see her again.
An older woman looked up from behind the counter. “Good morning. Let me know if you need any help.”
“I do need some help, but I don’t need a Timberline frog.”
“Oh? What do you need?”
Caroline stepped out from the back of the shop. “Information.”
“I’m glad I found you here.” Cole held up the cap and umbrella. “You left these at Sutter’s last night.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “And—and you took them?”
“I knew I’d be dropping by Timberline Treasures today to talk to Ms. Gunderson, so I told Bud I’d bring them to you.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t make a move toward the counter, so he weaved his way through the bins and shelves on the store’s floor and placed them on top of the glass counter. Then he thrust out his hand toward Linda. “Ms. Gunderson? I’m Cole Pierson. I’m writing a book about Timberline.”
Linda’s pale skin flushed as she shook his hand. “Oh dear, not a book on the Timberline Trio case, I hope.”
“Not at all. This is a travel book that includes some of the town’s lore. The Timberline Trio will probably make a brief appearance, but the crime is not the focus.”
“Good, because we had some problems when a TV show came here to film. Nothing but trouble.” She pursed her lips.
“I met your cousin Caroline last night at Sutter’s and she said you might be willing to talk to me about the old Timberline.”
“I think I can do that.” She fluffed her permed gray hair. “Is this going to be on camera?”
He held up his cell. “Just recorded on my phone, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine. I’d be happy to talk with you. Are you also interviewing some of the real old-timers and the Quileute out on the reservation?”
Cole smiled over gritted teeth and nodded. This pretense could turn into a full-time job. “On my list.”
The door tinkled behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder at an elderly couple struggling to push a stroller through the door. Cole maneuvered through the shop’s displays to grab the door for them and hold it open.
The woman said, “Thank you so much. Our daughter has us bring so many items for the baby it’s like pushing a truck instead of a stroller.”
Cole hunched forward and chucked the baby beneath his chubby chin. “Is this your grandson?”
“Our first.” Grandpa beamed.
The baby grabbed Cole’s finger and gurgled. “You’re a strong little guy, aren’t you? Little bruiser.”
He straightened up and met Caroline’s wide eyes. Her eyebrows were raised and her mouth was slightly open. Heat rushed to his cheeks and he cleared his throat. “Cute kid.”
“You’re back.” Linda bustled toward the couple and cooed over the baby.
As she chattered with the grandparents, Cole returned to the counter. “I was hoping to chat with Linda in the store today, but if she’s too busy maybe I can buy her lunch.”
“We’re not going to be that busy today—not with the rain gusting through.” Caroline tapped her fingers on the glass top. “Do you have kids?”
“Me? No. That?” He jerked his thumb toward the baby Linda now had in her arms. “Just making the grandparents feel good.”
Actually, that had been one of many disappointments from his failed marriage. The fact that he and Wendy didn’t have children. Although, given how the marriage ended—badly—that was probably a good thing.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” Her blue eyes narrowed in her usual suspicious manner.
“Have kids?”
“Oh, no.”
“Did your husband come out here with you for that fresh start?”
“I’m not...married.” Her brows collided over her nose.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands. “You started it...the personal questions.”
“Then I apologize. You just seemed like a natural with that baby.”
The couple at the door called out, “Goodbye. Have a nice day.”
Cole waved.
“Friends of yours?” he asked as Linda returned to the register.
“Their daughter and son-in-law moved to Timberline when she took a job with Evergreen. They’re retired and have been coming for visits since little Aaron was born.” Linda rubbed her hands together. “Now, where were we? Do you have questions about Timberline?”
“Is it okay if we do this now? I don’t want to interrupt business for you.”
She flicked her fingers in the air. “We won’t be busy, and now I have Caroline to watch the store for me.”
“Can I buy you coffee across the street at Uncommon Grounds?”
“I told him he could talk to you in the back, Linda.”
Linda knitted her brows and her gaze darted between the two of them. “Are you worried about being in the store by yourself, Caroline? You’ve done it before. I think you can handle it.”
Did Caroline have a problem with him talking to Linda alone? Cole pasted a smile on his face. “It’s up to you. Thought I’d buy you a coffee for your trouble.”
“It does sound nice and I haven’t had mine yet this morning.” She patted Caroline’s arm. “We’ll just be across the street. If something comes up, give me a holler.”
“Of course, of course.” Caroline’s shoulders dropped. “I know how much you enjoy talking about Timberline’s history.”
Some weird undercurrent passed between the two women, like a force field excluding him, and a muscle ticked in his jaw as his senses picked up on it.
Linda gave Caroline’s arm another pat and then smacked the counter with the flat of her hand, which broke the tension. “It’s settled. Coffee it is.”
“Enjoy yourselves.” Caroline brushed her light brown hair from her face. “I’ll hold down the fort.”
Cole stopped at the door. “Do you want us to bring you back anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
The door shut behind them and Caroline waited for the bells to fade before covering her face with her hands.
She’d be a lot better once Cole Pierson, or whatever his name was, left Timberline. That pat on the arm from Linda reassured her that her so-called cousin wouldn’t be spilling the beans about her to Cole.
Maybe this interview was just what she needed to get Cole off her back. If he couldn’t shake Linda’s story that she was a cousin from back East who was escaping a bad relationship, maybe he’d move on.
And she could get back to the business of finding out who she was and what she was doing with a lowlife like Johnny Diamond.
She had discovered that the body in the trunk of the car outside the motel room was Hazel McTavish, and most likely Diamond had murdered Hazel when he stole her car at the airport in Seattle. So how far-fetched was it to assume that Caroline was also one of Diamond’s victims?
Except she’d had a packed bag with her in the motel room. If he’d carjacked Hazel at the airport, maybe she’d been at the airport, too.
She rubbed the back of her head, where a hard knot had formed in place of the bump. She needed to regain her memory. How did people do that without going to a hospital and getting involved with law enforcement and psychiatrists?
The door to the shop swung open, and Caroline jumped. Her grip on the edge of the counter tightened as she watched a single man stroll through the door, shaking out his umbrella.
She had an idea of what one of Johnny Diamond’s cronies might look like, and it wasn’t this guy, with his crisp khakis and belted raincoat. But that’s what she’d thought about Cole Pierson, too, and he obviously had some involvement with Diamond if he was looking for her.
She forced a smile to her face. “Can I help you find something? All the wood carvings in the front are 50 percent off.”
The man tilted his head, a puzzled look in his eyes. “I’m just looking around. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Timberline.”
Either she was paranoid or she was giving off a weird vibe, because this guy was checking her out. Probably a little of both. She coughed. “Feel free to browse.”
She dusted behind the counter while keeping an eye on the shopper. He picked up and discarded many items after studying them intently.
He finally picked up one of the stuffed frogs and shook it.
“That’s unique to Timberline. A local artist makes those.”
“I think I used to have one of these frogs.” He tossed it in the air and caught it by one leg. “I’ll take it.”
“Do you have children?”
“A daughter.” He brought the frog to the counter.
“I’m sure she’ll like it.” Caroline’s blood thrummed in her veins as she rang up the man’s purchase under his scrutiny. He was studying her like he’d been studying the trinkets in the shop. Maybe he was just an intense guy.
“Is she with you? Your daughter?”
“No, I’m on a...business trip.”
She counted his change into the palm of his hand and shoved the plastic bag toward him. “Hope she likes it.”
He walked toward the door slowly and then stopped with his hand on the knob. “Are you a local?”
Did she just have one of those faces that invited questions, or was this a small-town thing?
“No. I’m staying with my cousin, who owns this shop.”
His shoulders drooped. “Ahh, well, thank you.”
“Enjoy your stay.”
When the door closed, she collapsed against the counter. Would she suspect every person who walked in here of having ulterior motives? Of course, as the saying went, sometimes they really were out to get you.
She’d been right to suspect Cole. He’d lied to her about being a writer. He was searching for Johnny Diamond’s companion. He was searching for her.
Crossing her arms, she strolled to the front door and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. She couldn’t see into Uncommon Grounds, the coffee shop where Cole had taken Linda to grill her. Caroline had to trust that Linda would keep her secrets—even the ones she didn’t know about. If Linda told Cole that she didn’t have a second cousin named Caroline and had never laid eyes on her before she’d discovered her crying in the alley behind her store, he’d have every reason to believe she was the mystery woman with Diamond. And she had to be a mystery to Cole or he would’ve recognized her.
But who was he? If he was Diamond’s associate, he might be wondering about some missing drug money. Did the police mention how much money was found in the hotel room? Surely not. How would Diamond’s cohorts know whether or not she’d stolen any money?
They might want to find her for other reasons. Revenge? Information? Could Cole be a cop?
The door to the Uncommon Grounds opened, and Caroline jerked back as Linda appeared on the sidewalk with Cole behind her. They were both laughing. That didn’t mean anything, though. Cole Pierson was a charmer. He had the good looks to beguile a woman of any age.
Hadn’t he cast a spell on her? Caroline should’ve taken her burger to go last night and gotten the heck out of Sutter’s. If she had, she wouldn’t have overheard his conversation. Better to know your enemies and keep them close.
She could keep Cole close—no problem.
His question about children had troubled her. She’d never considered that she might have a husband and children somewhere. Didn’t she owe it to them to turn herself in to the police? If she were missing, they’d be looking for her. Even if she didn’t come from this area, she might be able to find out if they were.
Maybe she should start looking at missing persons reports from other states.
As Linda and Cole approached the shop, Caroline backed away from the door and grabbed her duster.
They were still laughing when they entered on a wet gust of wind that sent the bells into a frenzy.
“Looks cold out there.”
“It’s freezing.” Linda held out a coffee cup. “Which is why we got you a latte.”
“Thanks, Linda.” Caroline took the cup from her.
“Thank Cole. It was his idea.”
“Thanks, Cole.” She raised the cup in his direction. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“I think so. Enough to settle a few questions and raise a few more, which is always a good start to, ah...research.”
She took a sip of coffee, eyeing him over the rim of her cup. The man drove her crazy. Was he toying with her?
The pressure of Linda’s hand against the small of her back nudged her toward the counter. “I gave Cole a long, boring history of this shop and a more interesting account of the local artists, including Scarlett Easton, who’s quite famous for her modern art, although I prefer her landscapes.”
Caroline released a few short breaths. Linda had kept mum about her sudden appearance in Timberline.
“I sold a Libby Love frog while you were out living it up at Uncommon Grounds.”
“Wonderful. I was wondering if we’d do any business today with the rain coming down.”
Caroline jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Might be a good day to continue with that inventory.”
“I am taking the hint.” Cole grabbed a frog. “And to show my appreciation for your time, I’ll buy a frog, too.”
“I thought you didn’t have children.”
“I don’t have any, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a kid or two in my life.”
Linda rang him up and tucked the frog into a plastic bag. “Let me know if you need anything else, Cole, and do go talk to Evelyn Foster out on the reservation. She can tell you about all the Quileute legends and myths.”
“I’ll do that.” He held up his hand. “Stay dry.”
Linda went to the window and watched him walk away. “Nice man. Good-looking, isn’t he?”
“Cut to the chase, Linda. Did he ask about me?”
“Nothing to worry about, Caroline. He didn’t ask anything a man attracted to a woman wouldn’t ask.”
Her nostrils flared. “Attracted? What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry. I told him a little about your past.” She held her thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “Just so he knows you’re not ready to jump into anything right now.”
“What did you tell him?” Caroline pressed two fingers to her temple. “Y-you didn’t reveal that I really wasn’t your cousin and had just arrived in town, did you? I’m not sure I trust him. M-my ex could’ve sent him. He could be looking for me right now.”
Linda cinched both her wrists with a surprisingly strong grip. “I promised to keep your secrets, Caroline, and I’m not going back on that just for a pair of twinkling green eyes and a set of broad shoulders.”
“What exactly did you tell him?”
“I stuck to the story. My cousin’s daughter contacted me a few weeks ago, was in a bad relationship, wanted a fresh start and asked to visit for a while—and you are that cousin.” She cocked her head. “Besides, if your ex really did send Cole looking for you, wouldn’t he already know what you looked like? You have nothing to fear from Cole—except his devastating charm.”
Biting her lip, Caroline folded her hands around her coffee cup. Had his conversation with Linda convinced Cole that Caroline Johnson was not the woman he was looking for, despite the black beanie?
If not, she had a lot more than Cole’s devastating charm to fear.
* * *
SINCE LINDA HAD a bridge game with friends that evening that entailed her to concoct some complicated dessert to outdo the other ladies, Caroline had convinced her to leave early and let her close up.
Only a handful of customers had come into the store, and no more suspicious characters. Cole Pierson was the only suspicious character she’d actually met. She doubted more were on the way. She could either leave Timberline and abandon any hope of ever discovering why she’d been headed here originally, or stick it out and convince Cole she really was Linda Gunderson’s cousin, who had no connection to Johnny Diamond, his drugs or his money.
She traced the edge of the piece of paper in her pocket on which she’d written the name and number of a therapist in Port Angeles. She’d asked Linda for a recommendation with the excuse that she wanted to work through her issues associated with the domestic violence. Linda was more than happy to oblige.
A therapist would have that confidentiality thing. The therapist probably couldn’t keep a confession of murder confidential, but Caroline didn’t believe she’d murdered Johnny Diamond. Maybe she’d killed him in self-defense, but she had no intention of admitting that to... She took the slip of paper out of her pocket and read aloud, “Dr. Jules Shipman.”
Caroline locked the front door and flipped Open to Closed. Then she dipped her hand in her other pocket and called Dr. Shipman on the prepaid phone she’d purchased a few days ago.
She left a message after the beep, giving as little information as possible. Time enough to get into all the gory details of her life once she was lying on Dr. Shipman’s couch.
She transferred the money from the register to the safe and dropped the accounting slip on top of the bills. She flicked off the lights and reached for her beanie and umbrella.
She smoothed her fingers across the soft material of the knit cap. She’d been foolish to keep this hat. How had Cole known the woman with Diamond had a hat like this? Had Johnny told him? Had someone seen her at the Stardust?
She pulled it on her head and shoved out the back door. She could stop playing this cat-and-mouse game and ask him. As she yanked the door shut, she shivered.
What then? Would he kill her? Interrogate her? Arrest her? She didn’t know which of those options would be the worst.
As she marched along the alleyway running behind the Main Street shops, a noise caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder at a man unfurling an umbrella.
He looked up and she could make out the pale oval of his face, but not much more. As he turned, the wind caught the edge of his trench coat and Caroline gasped.
Was he the man from the store who’d bought the Libby Love frog? Had he been watching her? Waiting for her?
She splashed through a puddle as she turned the corner and made a beeline for the more populated Main Street. Nobody was walking on the rain-soaked sidewalks, but people were going in and out of the restaurants and hopping into their cars.
She headed for the lights and warmth of Sutter’s. She’d pick up some dinner to take back to her duplex, and mull over what she planned to say to Dr. Shipman.
She ducked into Sutter’s and pointed to the bar as the hostess approached her. “I’m getting it to go.”
She walked up to the bar and her stomach sank as a tall, good-looking man flashed a grin at her.
“We gotta stop meeting like this.”
She tipped her chin at his almost empty plate. “Meat loaf again?”
“What can I say?” He spread his hands. “I’m a sucker for a home-cooked meal, even when it’s not at home.”
She waved down Bud. “Can I get a grilled chicken sandwich to go, with a side of sweet potato fries?”
“Coming right up.” He jerked his thumb at Cole. “Did this guy give you your hat and umbrella?”
“He did.”
“I was going to hold them behind the bar for you, but he said he’d be seeing you today.”
“Did you think I was trying to steal them?” Cole crumpled his napkin and dropped it in his plate. “I don’t think the hat would’ve fit.”
“Just keeping you honest, man.” Bud winked at Caroline and she gave him a weak smile.
Everyone seemed to think Cole Pierson was the greatest guy ever. What would they think if they knew what she knew? That he was a lying SOB and possible drug dealer...or undercover cop.
A burst of rain pelted the window next to the bar and Cole whistled. “I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
“It’s bad out there.” She dug for some cash in her purse, so she could pay and be on her way as soon as Bud came up with her order.
“Linda told me you didn’t have a car here yet and you walk all over town.”
“It’s not bad.”
“Except on a night like this. Can I give you a lift to your place? Even though it’s not far, you’ll get drenched walking that half mile.”
Her jaw tightened. “Linda told you where I live?”
“She mentioned it was lucky the other side of the duplex she and her sister own was empty when you came to town.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing the wet strands of her hair. “I’m not trying to move in on you or anything. I know you’ve had a rough time of it.”
She blinked against the tears pricking her eyes. Was he referring to the brawl she’d apparently had with Johnny Diamond in the hotel room, or her manufactured past with the abusive ex? Cole’s soothing tone almost made her want to confess everything to him. Almost.
She squared her shoulders. “Linda gossips too much. I dumped a jerk—nothing I can’t handle.”
“Thatta girl.” A wide grin claimed his face. “Don’t let the bastards bring you down.”
“Here’s your change, Cole.” Bud swept up Cole’s plate. “Your food will be up in a minute, Caroline.”
Cole pocketed his cash. “So, how about it? I’m parked right out front.”
She wanted to tell him to take a hike, keep his questions to himself and mind his own business. But that would make him even more suspicious, and maybe Linda had convinced him that she was really her cousin in need of a fresh start.
“I’d love a ride, thanks. If it’s not too inconvenient.”
“No problem at all.”
Bud returned with a bag hanging from his fingers, and then twisted his head around to look at the TV mounted above the bar. He called to the other bartender. “Denny, turn up the volume. It’s a story on the Johnny Diamond murder.”
A chill raced down Caroline’s spine, but she kept motionless.
Cole tipped his head back to take in the TV monitor. “I heard about that—found the guy with drugs and a car with a dead body in the trunk.”
Her dinner still dangled from Bud’s fingertips and she wanted to scream at him.
Cole asked, “Was he a local boy?”
“Diamond? No, but he ran with a local motorcycle gang, the Lords of Chaos.”
The sounds around Caroline receded and she felt like she was spinning through a vacuum. Larry. LC, the tattoo on Johnny Diamond’s neck, stood for Lords of Chaos. Timberline had been Johnny Diamond’s destination, not hers. Or maybe it had been hers, too. Nobody seemed to recognize her here, nobody except Cole Pierson, and for him her identity was all speculation.
“Do you think he was on his way here when he was killed?”
Bud hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope not. Timberline has had enough trouble with the Lords.”
The story ended. Denny turned down the sound and Caroline could breathe again—almost. “My food?”
“Sorry.” He placed the bag on the counter. “Napkins and utensils inside.”
She handed him a twenty. “Thanks, keep it.”
Cole rose from his stool before she did. “Ready?”
“Uh-huh.” She looked at Bud’s curious expression and said, “Cole’s giving me a ride home in the rain.”
“Good idea. Have a good night.”
Caroline turned, hugging the bag to her chest. So now if Cole murdered her and dumped her body in the woods, someone would connect him to her disappearance—and she was only half kidding.
She preceded Cole through the restaurant in thoughtful silence. Was the revelation of Johnny Diamond’s connection to a motorcycle gang news to Cole or was he a member, too? She could always check his body for tattoos—and she was only half kidding about that, too.
As he opened the door for her, she slid a glance at his hand and the wrist revealed when his sleeve rode up. No tattoos there and she hadn’t noticed any on his neck.
He opened his umbrella. “Here, get under. I’m just one door down.”
A small sedan flashed its lights and beeped once, and Cole held the umbrella over her head while she climbed into the car. When he slammed the door, she did a quick survey of the console and the backseat.
No weapons and no dead bodies. Things were looking up.
He opened the driver’s side door and collapsed his umbrella. As he slid onto the seat, he tossed the soggy umbrella in the rear. “Whew. This is a deluge. Even with your umbrella, you would’ve been soaked to the bone.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
He started the car and then turned to look at her, studying her profile. “Glad to do it.”
“Straight ahead.” She pinned her hands between her bouncing knees.
“All the way at the end where the businesses stop?”
“Yes.”
The car crawled through the flooded streets, and Cole hunched forward. “You’d think a town in Washington would do a better job of drainage.”
“Timberline’s old.”
“The influx of money from Evergreen Software should start going toward the town’s infrastructure.”
“Linda says it’s helped a lot.” Caroline tapped on the window. “Up ahead on the right where the two yellow lights are.”
Cole pulled into the driveway she didn’t use. “I’ll get the door for you.”
He pulled his umbrella from the backseat and unfurled it before getting out of the car. Two seconds later, he was opening her door, holding the umbrella over her head at great expense to his own well-being.
As she groped for the keys in her purse, he stayed right by her side, keeping her dry. When she made it to the covered porch, she pulled him up next to her. “You’re drenched.”
“You’re not.”
She released his sleeve. Was this his strategy? Cozy up to her so she’d spill her guts?
“Well, now it’s all yours.” She inserted her key into the lock and turned. “Thanks again and good luck with your book.”
“Good luck to you, too, Caroline Johnson.”
His voice trailed to a whisper as he melted back into the rain.
She blew out a breath and pushed open her door. That sounded like a goodbye. Linda must’ve been convincing.
She stepped into the small living room and the hair on the back of her neck quivered. Her gaze darted from the bookshelves to the pillows on the couch to the magazines stacked on the coffee table.
Someone had been in her house. A primal fear seized her and she turned and fled back into the driving rain.
