Читать книгу Countdown to Danger: Alive After New Year / New Year's Target - Hannah Alexander - Страница 13
ОглавлениеTwo days after Christmas, John was astounded to find himself driving Gerard’s SUV down Highway 37 toward Cassville, Missouri, with Lynley Marshall, of all people, in the passenger seat. He’d had no choice, really. Gerard had an emergency with one of his rehab people this morning.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself, your mother will never forgive me, the whole town of Jolly Mill—”
“Would you stop?” Lynley sat slumped low in the seat, and with the tinted windows in Gerard’s SUV, they’d hoped to make this work. “We’re doing the best we can, and you know I can handle that pistol in the glove compartment. Not that it’ll come to that.”
“No. I’ll be with Dodge, and I’ll have my eyes on him at all times. He’ll never know you’re anywhere in Cassville. I still think it might’ve been better for you to go with Gerard to Springfield than to be sitting in the car while I interrogate.”
“Look at it this way—you need me to give you directions to the house.”
“GPS.”
“Your girlfriend?” Lynley’s voice raised in mock exasperation, making him smile despite the reason for this trip.
“Just because it has a female voice—”
“And has gotten us lost half the time we’ve used her. Remember when she placed us on Highway 76 in Branson during rush hour? But would you listen to me and take the alternate routes? No, you had to listen to your girlfriend instead of your...good friend.”
He grinned over at her and was glad to see it reflected back at him. Since reading that note yesterday and seeing her reaction to it, he’d felt overwhelmed with a need to cheer her up, to ensure her safety at any cost. She didn’t realize that he could see the pain in her eyes when she thought her ex-husband might have threatened her life. To think that someone who had once vowed to love her might now be threatening to kill her...of course that would hurt.
“There’s the first traffic signal,” she said. “You’ll want to turn left.”
“You sure? Maybe I should ask my girlfriend.”
She chuckled, and he felt warm all the way through. Good. He’d gotten her to laugh. Mere hours after meeting her, he’d learned about her mistrust of every GPS system known to man. Lynley preferred a good old-fashioned map. She’d even challenged his GPS system to a test, and Lynley and her map had won. In Branson, Missouri, no less, which challenged every GPS system invented.
“Where’s Kirstie?” he asked.
“Lunch prep at the rehab center. Nora and Carmen are guarding her, just in case. I hope Nora bakes some of her famous cookies while she’s in the kitchen. I would’ve been helping if Gerard hadn’t been called out.”
“Now, that’s something I’d like to see.”
“What? Me cooking? I can do that.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“That’s because we’re always at Mom’s and she likes to cook.”
“And you don’t.”
“Not my skill set.”
“I recall a gluten-free puff pancake you made that was one of the best things I ever tasted. Oh, and that thing you call a man-quiche.”
“That’s right. I remember. You ate the whole thing.”
“I have to admire a woman who knows her skill set.”
She chuckled.
He felt a little squeeze in the region of his chest. It was a warning sign; Lynley had begun to settle even more deeply into his heart. It alarmed him now as it did every time he thought about it.
“Turn left again at the next road.”
“How many times did we go over these directions before—”
“Now turn right. Trust me, it’s a short, one-block street, and it’s hard to—”
“Turn right here?”
“Left, then immediately right. Maybe you weren’t listening.”
“I could always have used the GPS.”
“Someday she’s going to disappear and you’ll never find her.”
“Oh, but I’ll know who did the dastardly deed.”
“That won’t matter. You’ll need proof.”
“How many traffic signals did you say Cassville has?”
“Three, I believe.”
He shook his head. “And you thought I’d get lost in a town this size?” He’d thought his hometown of Sikeston, Missouri, across the state, was small, but tiny farming communities were the norm in the Missouri Ozarks. The closest shopping mall was in Springfield, over an hour’s drive from Jolly Mill.
The charm of a small town outclassed the convenience of the third-largest city in Missouri for Lynley, however, and since she was a country girl at heart, she came home to stay with Kirstie whenever she didn’t have back-to-back shifts at the hospital.
John smiled when he tried to count how many of Lynley’s friends just happened to mention, with a wink, that she never used to come home so often. She’d been scheduled for two shifts this week, and neither John, Gerard nor Kirstie had been able to make her call the hospital and cancel those shifts yesterday.
Later last night, after Kirstie had gone to bed with an old rifle under her pillow and Gerard had gone home with his wife, John tried again.
“Lynley, I can’t believe you,” he’d said. “None of us can know when you might come under attack. It’s foolhardy to attempt to work under these circumstances.”
“Then come with me.”
“You think the hospital will allow you to have a bodyguard all day?”
“No, because the hospital won’t know about this threat.”
“And why is that?” he asked.
“Because I won’t tell them.”
“That, too, is foolhardy. You need to consider your patients. They could be in danger, too.”
Lynley picked up the note and shook it in his face. “You said this was written by someone who’s greedy, not someone out for revenge. That means the hospital will be a safe place to be. So I’m going. End of argument.”
“You know what? It’s one thing to be strong and determined. It’s dangerous to be as bullheaded and stubborn as a...an old bull.” Great way with words, Russell.
And Lynley laughed. Which made John angry.
He got up and paced across the living room floor. “Sandra would never have done this.”
He didn’t realize he’d spoken the words aloud until he turned back to see Lynley’s eyes widening and her lips parting. “Done what?” she asked softly. Too softly.
He sank into the recliner across the room from her. “Laughed at me for worrying about her safety.”
“What would she have done?”
“She’d have done as I asked, even if she believed it was only for my own peace of mind.”
In the long silence afterward, John realized he’d breached a deadly boundary. A man with any sense never compared the woman he was seeing with an ex-wife, a former girlfriend, his mother and especially not his late wife, whom he’d loved with all his heart.
“Then for your own peace of mind,” Lynley said, her voice still soft, “you should remember I’m not your wife.” She got up and went to bed.
Early this morning he found a note slipped beneath the guest room door where he had stayed with his Glock beneath the pillow. “Just so you know,” the note said, “I’m not your wife, and you don’t have a right to tell me what to do, but I have decided to take leave until after the first of the year.”
He’d had to smother his laughter in his pillow. He’d folded the note and placed it into his billfold.
* * *
Lynley kept her mouth shut as John made two more turns. He’d been right—he didn’t need her to sit beside him and direct. The man had an excellent sense of direction. He also had a comfortable way about him. They could sit together in silence and not be uncomfortable.
She, however, grew less comfortable the closer they got to her former home. Though she knew how to handle the weapon in the glove compartment, she’d never actually had to use one for self-protection. She couldn’t go in with John, but she didn’t want to sit in the car. And why was she so uncomfortable about that? It didn’t make sense. John would be interviewing the only suspect they had, so it wasn’t as if a prospective killer would be hanging around the car.
“Hey, I have an idea,” she said. “You have your Bluetooth earpiece, right?”
He patted his pocket.
“And I have mine in my purse. Why don’t we link up? If Dodge says something untrue, I can tell you. I can follow the interview that way.”
He frowned. “Interesting thought. We might be in iffy territory, though. You’re the victim, and a victim should never be in the same room as a suspect.”
“I wouldn’t be in the same room. He might think he’s being recorded if he sees the earpiece, but he won’t know I’m on the other end.”
“Okay, get your earpiece out and call me when the time comes.”
She let out a lungful of air she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thanks. I think I need that connection right now. I’m getting a little nervous.”
“Just remember you’ve got me right here between the two of you. He can’t get to you.”
“I know.” She always felt safe when she was with John. “Um...you remember that thing we argued about last night?”
“Which thing? We argued about more than one—”
“I’m talking about the main argument.”
“Oh, you mean the one you wrote to me about this morning?”
She giggled, an embarrassing trait she had when stressed. “I heard you laughing. I think it woke Mom up.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, John. This is all so terrifying. I might behave like a cantankerous old bull, but I’m really scared.”
He hesitated, glanced at her. “So am I.”
“Not what I wanted to hear.”
“Just being honest. We can’t predict what’s going to happen next. That’s why we have to take everything so seriously and watch our every move.”
“Yes. And I will. And you know that other...argument? You know, about my not being your...you know...your wife? I wasn’t trying to be hateful at all.”
“I knew that, Lynley.”
“It’s just that I learned at a young age not to let others control my life, and when I did, I was sorry.”
“And the reason you’re sorry is because of the person you married. Trust me, marriage to the right person? Totally different experience, I can assure you.”
Despite the fact that she’d often encouraged him to talk about his wife and his marriage, this time his remark felt a little like a jab. As if maybe she’d made the wrong choice, and that was the only chance she’d ever have. Or that maybe Sandra really was the only woman for him. Ever. She pushed away the thought.
“If you hadn’t been here yesterday,” she said, “I don’t know what I’d have done. And about the marriage thing...”
“You don’t have to explain that to me. I think we’re both on the same page with that.”
“Which would be...?”
“Which would be that I find you beautiful and exciting, Lynley.” He glanced across at her, and his foot automatically eased from the accelerator.
She stared at him with parted lips.
“You’re a definite temptation to abandon my lonely life, and I’m just now realizing how much of a temptation that is.”
She caught her breath, ready to tell him the same thing. But she let him continue.
“Several weeks before Sandra died, she told me she wanted me to find a wonderful woman, someone who would make me happy. Her final wish was for me to remarry and raise a family.”
“She was ri—”
“But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make her final wish come true.”
Lynley couldn’t believe the sting of disappointment she felt at his words.
“We’d been trying to do just that,” he said. “Have a family. That was when we discovered her cancer.”
Lynley swallowed. Hard. There was a thickness in her throat as she thought about the pain he’d endured. It was at that moment that she realized how very much John Russell had become entangled in her heart. When she would have expected to feel jealousy over his inability to recover from the death of his dead wife, she felt as if she was sharing his pain, instead. Although she felt rejected by his words, she also ached for his awful loss.
“I hate that,” she said. Her voice caught, and she realized she was close to tears. For him. “I wish, for your sake, that Sandra had never gotten sick, that she’d lived and thrived and given you a whole house filled with happy children. I can’t imagine a single unhappy child growing up in a household with parents like you and Sandra.”
He stared straight ahead, hands turning white with his grip on the steering wheel. “Thank you, Lynley.” It sounded as if he, too, was having some difficulty with thickness in his throat.
“I mean it. I know God knows what he’s doing, but I’ll never understand all the hardships we see. Not in this lifetime.”
“While Sandra battled her cancer physically,” John said, “I joined the same battle with prayer. I can’t tell you how many times I fell asleep praying for her to heal, and then awakened with the same words on my lips.”
“But God didn’t answer your prayers.”
“Not what I’d asked for at all, no.”
Why, God?
Of course, she knew better than to ask. “God allowed me to struggle many times in my life, and made me watch Mom’s pain with my father’s behavior. It seemed to happen to me more often than with most of my friends.”
John looked at her. “But after your struggle to get past your anger, looking back you could see how you’d grown during those times.”
“How’d you know?”
“The day Sandra died,” John said, “I shut down.”
She nodded.
“I was barely able to face the funeral—all those trite, unhelpful sayings I’d once blabbered, myself, for lack of knowing what else to say. You know the words...God had another plan for Sandra...God wanted her in heaven...she was better off now...it was God’s will.”
“I know the words well,” she said softly.
“I cut myself off from friends and family. When the Russell clan started pressuring me too much to jump back into life and just ‘get past it,’ I turned off my phone and stopped answering when the doorbell rang.”
“Did you get those who’d also lost loved ones that felt the need to load you down with their stories?”
“That, too.”
“What did you do?” They’d never talked about this before. Until now, Lynley had kept the subject of Sandra’s death off-limits, just as she’d kept the subject of her father’s behavior off-limits.
“I asked for an interdepartmental transfer at work and changed churches. Even though I loved my church, they couldn’t understand that I’d become a different person. I stopped teaching Sunday school, quit choir, stopped committee work, and they decided I’d lost my faith.”
“And yet you didn’t shut God out of your life.”
“How could I shut out the One who is my reason for living? I feel as if I failed Sandra because I haven’t followed up on her final request.”
“Did she give you a time limit?”
He shook his head.
“Then don’t worry so much,” she said quietly. “I understand, John. Something in you died with Sandra, just as something in me died with the death of my marriage. Sometimes I feel there’s too much pain from the past to risk the same in the future.”
He shot her a glance. “Wow, we’re perfect for each other, aren’t we?”
She gave him a sad smile. “We both want solitude. I feel as if my comfort zone has been depleted. Even when I feel a strong desire to be a part of someone’s life again—”
“You also feel a need to withdraw?” he said.
“Sometimes.”
He flipped the turn signal. “Your friendship has been a happy constant in my life since I first arrived in Jolly Mill. I could be mistaken, but it doesn’t seem as if either of us has had a lot of that solitude lately.”
She leaned back in her seat, surprised that she hadn’t acknowledged that herself.
Was it time to put some distance between them, despite her growing attraction? She couldn’t bear to be the cause of another devastation in his life. What if someone managed to get to her, even after all John’s efforts?
“I didn’t mention it in front of Mom yesterday,” she said, searching for a change of subject, “but when Dodge and I moved here from Kansas City, it was so I could help take care of her. He once casually remarked that if Mom died we’d never have to work again.”
John sucked in his breath.
“That broke the emotional ties I had with him. It was when I discovered he wasn’t the person I believed him to be. I just didn’t do anything about it until I had legal reason.”
“Anything else he said that would lead you to believe he’d threaten your life for money?”
“Nothing he ever did or said implied he would threaten my life, John. Sure, he likes money. He doesn’t like work. During the divorce proceedings he did ask for a piece of the inheritance he knew Mom would receive, even though his own attorney rolled his eyes at that.”
“You didn’t mention that yesterday.”
“I’ve tried so hard for so long to forget about his involvement in my life, these things slipped my mind. My father was the one who told Dodge about the money. Neither Mom nor I ever mentioned the extent of Uncle Lawson’s personal finances because it was no one’s business.”
“Do you think Dodge remained in the area because he thought he might still get a grab at the money?”
“You mean by threatening my life? I might not be the best judge of human nature—obviously I’m not—but I can’t bring myself to believe Dodge would spend this much of his life in the ‘backwater’ town, as he calls Cassville, just on the off chance that he might be able to swindle or threaten Mom into giving him money. Why not start robbing banks?”
“I need to know everything you know about Dodge, or about who else might have a reason to hurt you. This isn’t gossip. It’s self-preservation.”
“All I can think of right now is that I walked in on him with another woman. I’d already heard from too many people about his affairs, and I was sick of it.”
“So that’s when you filed?”
“That’s right.”
“Will it disturb you to learn that I discovered this morning that he’s snagged himself another woman—a neurologist who works in Joplin?”
“Why should it? He always did want to trade up financially. That leaves him even less likely to be the culprit. But it also means we might not catch him alone this morning.”
“Not we. I. I might not catch him alone.” John wrapped his Bluetooth earpiece around his ear. “You’re not coming in with me.”
“I know. You might not even catch him awake. It’s early yet, and unless Dodge has changed, he sleeps late on his days off.”
“I’ve already checked his schedule with the hospital, and he’s off today.” John glanced over at her. “Someday you’ll have to tell me about your father.”
Lynley stared out the window at the winter scenery, the patches of snow that were quickly melting. “He, too, had women.” She paused. “He attempted to kill Mom with mercury in the air vent to make it look as if she developed premature Alzheimer’s. And, like Dodge, he always attempted to seduce upwardly mobile women. Some desperate women with money could be generous to younger, attractive men.”
“How did you know about all this?”
“Small town, lots of big mouths, though he tried hard to keep Mom from knowing. After all, he knew she would inherit, and he didn’t want a divorce before that happened.”
John slowed the SUV nearly to a stop in front of Lynley’s former home. An older blue Ford was parked in front of a two-car garage. They sat and stared at it for a long, tense moment.
“There are a lot of blue cars on the road,” she said.
“Did he have this when you divorced?”
“No. He had the pickup truck, silver. Maybe we should’ve brought Mrs. Drews so she could identify it.”
“Take a picture with your cell, then link us up.” He made a U-turn and parked beneath the bare overhanging branches of a maple tree. He situated them just right so Lynley couldn’t be seen from the house. “Just sit and listen.”
Lynley sighed. “Having one’s life threatened can be so confining.”
“You’ll adapt.” He paused, adjusting the sound on his earpiece. “You know, tastes can mature over time.”
She screwed up her face as she tried to follow his subject change, but he’d lost her. “What?”
“You think you’d still be attracted to a man like Dodge?”
“Absolutely not, no way, never in a million years.”
He chuckled. “See what I mean? Tastes change.”
“I didn’t take the time to get to know Dodge. I think I found myself drawn to him because he was the opposite of my father—or so I thought. Not physically appealing to other women. Little did I know what some women would go for.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out about him the way you did.”
“The problem was that I never had any deep conversations with him,” Lynley said. “He was an extrovert, liked to be around a lot of people all the time. I thought that would be good for me, but it meant we weren’t alone much when we were dating. You and I have had more deep conversations in one month than he and I had throughout our whole marriage. He was smart enough, he just wasn’t a deep thinker.”
“I’m a deep thinker?”
“Most certainly. We talk about more than the weather, and you don’t try to make small talk because you’re uncomfortable with the silence, or afraid I’m mad at you for some reason if I’m quiet for more than five minutes.”
“Sounds as if Dodge had a guilty conscience.”
“Too bad I figured that out after the wedding.”
John studied the house. “Hey, did you say you painted the trim?”
She turned, at last, to view the house she’d tried so hard to make a home. And had failed. The antique brick, deep green Victorian trim that matched the fence, the landscaping she’d worked so hard to grow. It didn’t appear Dodge had done anything to keep it up. Old, brown vines covered half the house number, and leaves beneath the trees were at least four inches deep. “I built the backyard privacy fence myself.”
He whistled. “You do good work. Too bad nobody bothered with upkeep.”
“Yeah, too bad.”
“I’ll let you help me build my fence as soon as I buy the supplies. You did this all by yourself?”
“Mom taught me how. It never was my father’s thing.”
“Perfect,” he said. “You ready?”
“I’m scared. Be careful.”
“You think your ex can beat me up?”
“No, but—”
“I’ll be careful. If he’s guilty I’ll see him behind bars no matter the cost.”
