Читать книгу Killing Me Softly - Maggie Shayne - Страница 10

Dawn was startled, probably because of the dark feeling that had crept over her entire soul as the dinner conversation had unfolded. Nightcap Strangler. Serial killer. Copycat crime. A dead girlfriend. And all of it tied up with Bryan. What the hell?

“Hey, Nick,” Bryan said, his expression lightening. “Dawn, come meet Nick.” Bryan got up, and she followed him out of the dining room, across the living room and into the foyer. Beth and Josh remained at the table, and Dawn could hear them speaking softly, probably trying to reassure each other that everything would be all right.

Nick, who looked as if he’d been buff once but now had the proverbial muffin top spilling over his belt, pushed the screen door open and entered, still smiling. He had blue eyes that won you over with a single glance. His hair looked like onyx in a snowstorm. And when his warm smile landed on Dawn, it somehow managed to broaden.

“You’ve gotta be Beth’s little girl, Dawnie. I’ve been hearing about you for years. It’s good to finally meet you. I’m Nick Di Marco, an old friend of Bryan’s.”

Dawn couldn’t help but return the infectious smile. Somehow his demeanor made the tension she’d been feeling a few moments ago fade away.

“Hello, Nick. I’ve been hearing about you for years, too. Bryan tells me you’re the man he trusts most in the world, after his dad, and that’s saying something.” She extended a hand, and Nick took it. His was big and very warm, but she felt the strength beneath the friendliness.

“Sorry we’re meeting under such dire circumstances,” he said, and then he shifted his gaze to Bryan. “You didn’t tell me how closely she fit.”

Bryan frowned hard, but nodded at his mentor. “I didn’t even think about it myself until she got here.”

“She can’t set foot in Shadow Falls, Bryan. She might not even be safe here in Blackberry, even though it’s almost an hour away. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Bryan agreed.

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Dawn was shifting her curious blue eyes from one of them to the other. “Fit what?”

“She’s got the look,” Nick said. But he said it quietly, as if he didn’t want Beth and Josh, who were still in the other room, to hear.

Bryan ignored her question and said, “I know, Nick,” he said. “I was going to get to that.”

“Get to what?” Dawn frowned at Bryan, puzzled and irritated at being ignored.

He quickly covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze that made her heart beat faster, despite the situation.

“Nick, go on in and have something to eat. I’ll be back.” Then, finally, Bryan met Dawn’s probing stare. “Come for a walk with me?”

She looked down at his hand still holding hers and felt such a rush of confused emotions that her eyes started to burn. She blinked against the feeling and nodded once, not quite trusting herself to speak, because her throat was so tight. Bryan was in more trouble than she had begun to imagine, and it seemed she cared a whole lot more than she had allowed herself to acknowledge.

Bryan walked Nick to the dining room and waved him into a seat as Beth invited him to join them for the meal. “Dawn and I are going for a short walk. We’ll be back soon,” Bryan told them.

“Don’t parade her all over the neighborhood, Bryan,” Nick said. “The more people who see her, the greater the risk.”

Risk? Dawn shot Bryan a “what the hell is he talking about” look as he returned to her. But he just took her hand and gave it another squeeze, then walked with her to the door. The screen door creaked, and as they stepped outside and let it close behind them, she felt the warm kiss of a summer night and heard the crickets chirping in a way she hadn’t heard in five long years. God, she’d missed Vermont.

They walked down the porch steps, and Bryan seemed to be avoiding looking at her, even though she was staring at him as she kept in step at his side.

He released her hand as they walked, and hers felt cold without it, despite the warmth of the evening.

“Why am I…at risk, Bryan?” she asked.

He sighed, coming to a stop. They’d followed a walk-way that wound through a garden that hadn’t been there when she’d left. It took up the entire side lawn, and was dotted with statues and benches. The air was almost thick with perfume, and even though it was already dark, there were still bees bumbling from blossom to fragrant blossom.

Bryan sank onto a bench, and she sat down beside him. “Dawn,” he said, “Bette looked…similar to you.”

“She did?” She tipped her head to one side, and for some reason her mind went in the opposite direction from murders and death and serial killers. It went straight to him—to them. “You were dating someone who looked like me? What’s that mean, Bryan? Are you saying you never—”

“It wasn’t like that with Bette and me. We were friends.”

Dawn lifted her brows. “Some friends.”

“I’m not telling you this to make you think I still—Dawn, that’s not what this is about. You’re blonde, slender, taller than average. You have blue eyes, and you’re between nineteen and twenty-five.”

“That’s an odd way to put it. You know perfectly well I’m twenty-four.”

“Bette was twenty-three.”

She nodded. “So we were close in age. And we looked kind of alike. But it was just coincidence that you were dating her, right? It had nothing to do with her resemblance to me.”

“Right.”

“So why bring it up, then?”

“Because…that description—the age range, the body type, the long straight hair, light brown to blond—it also fits all the original victims of the Nightcap Strangler.”

An ice-cold finger slid down Dawn’s spine, and she sucked in a breath, suddenly very clear as to what he was getting at.

“All of them? And how many would that be, Bryan?”

“Seventeen original victims that we know of. Eighteen, if you add Bette. The thing is, whether this is a copycat or Nick arrested the wrong guy, you won’t be safe in Shadow Falls. And Nick’s right, you might not even be safe here in Blackberry, Dawn.”

She nodded three times, slowly, firmly, while her mind raced. But even before her brain reached a practical conclusion, her lips were moving. Her emotions were doing the talking tonight, it seemed.

“I’m not leaving,” she told him.

“Dawn, look, I can’t let you risk your life—”

“It sounded like you don’t think this guy will kill again.”

“Nick thinks he will. And believe me, Dawn, Nick knows this case a whole lot better than I do.”

“I can take precautions,” she said quickly. “I can color my hair. Slouch when I walk so I look shorter. Get some tinted contacts.”

Bryan sighed, shaking his head and, she sensed, constructing logical arguments in his mind. But then she closed her hand around his, and he went very still. She’d been hoping her touch still had the same effect on him as his did on her. And it seemed that maybe it did.

“I’m not leaving you, Bryan.”

He stared into her eyes for a long moment. She tried not to start arguing with herself as to whether what she was feeling for him now was friendship or something more. It wasn’t the same emotion she’d felt for him before. She’d been a girl then. Barely out of school.

What she felt now was different, and it was too soon to know exactly how. Besides, figuring that out wasn’t the most important thing right now. What was important now was getting through this. “I mean it,” she said, feeling the need to drive the point home. “I won’t leave you.”

“Sure you will,” he said. “It’s only a matter of time.”

She frowned, because that had sounded bitter, and as if it had nothing to do with the subject at hand. But before she had a chance to defend herself, she heard the distinct sound of carefully placed footsteps on the path behind them. She swung her head around startled.

Bryan surged to his feet and stepped in front of her so fast that it shocked her. She sat there staring up at the back of his T-shirt, noticing how his wide shoulders offset his narrow hips. God, he was built. This was not the lean, lanky nineteen-year-old she’d left behind. His arms were cut, probably all flexed out like that because of the way he was clenching his fists at his sides, as if ready to take on all comers in her defense. It made her belly clench up and her heart beat faster.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Who the hell is there?” Bryan demanded.

“Hey, Kendall, is that you?” The steps came closer.

“Rico?” Bryan’s fists unclenched, and she heard his breath flowing out all at once, like a mini-windstorm. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he said, “It’s okay. It’s my partner, Rico Chavez. We call him Rico Suave—he’s pretty smooth with the women.”

By the time he finished his explanation, Rico was coming toward them along the garden path. He was a relatively short bronze-skinned hunk with black curly hair cut close to his head, and when he saw Dawn, he hesitated. “Sorry, man. I hope I’m not—”

“It’s fine,” Bryan said. “Rico, this is Dawn Jones.”

“Oh.” Rico’s thick brows went up as he stared at her a little too intently. And then he asked, “The Dawn?” And Bryan groaned and nodded.

Rico came closer, better to check her out. He smiled, a bright white smile in that copper-skinned face, and offered her a hand, then sent a not-so-subtle nod of approval Bryan’s way.

So apparently Bryan had told his partner about her. That warmed her way more than it probably ought to.

“Don’t you believe anything they say about my man, here,” Rico said. Then he looked at Bryan, and his smile turned serious. “I got your back, Bry. I hope you know it. No question. I don’t doubt you.”

Bryan nodded. “Thanks, Rico. That means a lot to me.”

“I think they’re close to, uh…” He shifted his eyes to Dawn and then back to Bryan again.

“Arresting me?”

Dawn felt her blood run cold, not even believing the words had crossed Bryan’s lips. “No,” she whispered. “No, that can’t be.”

“Sorry, man,” Rico said. “I don’t think it’ll be tonight. Maybe tomorrow, though. She’s got your skin under her nails, your hairs on her pillow—” He bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dawn blurted. “He was sleeping with her. Naturally his DNA would be all over her.”

Then she pressed a hand to her suddenly queasy stomach and turned her back on both of them. She realized she wasn’t just sick at the thought of Bryan going to jail, but at the thought of him making love to another woman. God, why would it hit her this powerfully? And why right now? Had she really thought he’d been celibate all this time, just because she had?

“There’s no sign of anyone else, man. Not in the bed or on the body,” Rico explained.

“Why is that so strange?” Dawn demanded. They both looked at her, questioningly, so she went on. “You didn’t say anything about the Nightcap Strangler raping his victims.”

“You’re right,” Bryan told her. “He didn’t rape any of them.”

“So, whether this is him or a copycat, he won’t be raping them, either. Right? So why expect to find his—”

Bryan held up a hand to stop her words. But Rico was nodding hard. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s right. I said the same thing to the chief not two hours ago, but damn, it’s like talking to a brick wall.” He sighed, sounding angry. “I figured you’d need time to decide how to make bail. Listen, man, I got a few grand stashed away, if you need it.”

“Thanks.” Bryan put a hand on his shoulder, lowering his own head. “For the warning and the offer. But mostly for believing me. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Rico nodded. “De nada, partner. Good to finally meet you, Dawn.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Rico,” she said. And then Rico turned and headed back toward the house.

Dawn turned to blink up into Bryan’s eyes. Hers were wet, but she hoped he wouldn’t see that in the growing darkness. “They’re going to arrest you.”

“I’ll make bail. And we’ll find out who did this and—”

“Maybe…maybe I can help,” she told him. “Really help, I mean.”

Bryan seemed blank only for a moment; then he apparently got what she was saying and shook his head, backing away a step as he did. “You mean…you mean by trying to revive the ability you’ve spent the past five years trying to get rid of? No. No way, Dawn.”

“Just listen. How better to find out who killed Bette than to ask her? And who else are you going to get to do that for you?”

He continued shaking his head. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” he demanded. “You’ve been hiding out from this gift you call a curse for five years. You threw away everything we had because of it. Now you’re just going to welcome it back with open arms?”

“To save you from life in prison? Yeah, Bry, with open arms. Wide open.”

He pushed a hand through his hair and tipped his head up toward the glittering stars above them. “You left home over this,” he said. Then he lowered his head and stabbed her eyes with his. “You left me over this.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. We’re not going to waste our time and attention on what’s gone by, Bryan. There’s nothing we can do about it, anyway. It’s in the past. We need to focus on finding out who murdered that poor girl.”

“It’s not in the past. Not for me. You destroyed me, Dawn.” He drew a breath, still holding her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not liking what she saw in his eyes just then. Anger. Unexpressed until now, so it had festered. She’d really ruined things with him, and done it in spades. She hadn’t left any room to fix it now.

So she decided to change the topic, because that one hurt too badly to think about. “You still haven’t told me why you were going through all those files on the Nightcap Strangler case. Are you going to?”

“Yeah, but you can’t tell Nick.”

She nodded, but she thought she already knew. “You were beginning to suspect that he’d arrested the wrong man, weren’t you, Bryan? And I’ll bet the real killer found out somehow, was afraid you were going to catch him and killed Bette to distract you—or maybe even to frame you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

He held her eyes a moment longer, then smiled a little, all that pent-up anger seeming to dissipate as his gaze roamed her face. “You’re still some kind of aspiring Nancy Drew, aren’t you, Dawn?”

“I’m too old to be Nancy Drew.” Then she shrugged. “But yeah, I guess I am still into the crime-solving thing. I just didn’t realize it until I got here. You have to admit we were good at it. Helped save our friend from a homicidal headcase before we were out of our teens. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No, Nancy. You’re dead wrong. It was a great theory, though.”

She frowned hard, not sure she’d heard him right.

“The thing is, Nick is getting an award next month—a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Vermont Association of Law Enforcement. And it’s a big deal. They asked me to present it at their annual convention, and part of that involves putting together a speech. You know, the highlights of his career and all that.”

She felt her brows push against each other. “That’s why you were going over the files?”

“It’s the case that made him famous. I was going to do this whole multimedia presentation. Big screen behind me, featuring the cover from his book, maybe a clip from the movie they made out of it. De Niro played him, you know.”

“Everyone knows.”

“The thing is, I had to sneak the hard copies of the files out of the department’s records room. Some of the boxed evidence, too. I didn’t sign them out, the way we’re supposed to, because I didn’t want anyone to know. And if I’d accessed them electronically, I’d have had to log in, and that would have left a trail for sure.”

“You risked your career to present an award?”

“Hell, no,” he said. Then he tipped his head back again as if searching the night sky for assistance. The crickets kept chirping, and the stars kept twinkling, but neither of them offered him any help. “It wasn’t risking my career. It was a little sneaky, but it’s an old closed case, and if I got caught and explained my reasons to the chief, he’d have let it go and played along.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell him in the first place?”

“Because the committee was adamant that no one can know. That’s the way this award is always given out—no one knows who will get it before the big night. It’s as closely guarded a secret as the Oscar winners are. I even had to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

She nodded. “So then does anyone know you took the files?”

“Only you. Beth and Josh will know before the night’s out,” he said. “I have to tell them.”

“Had you returned the files yet, before all this happened?”

“No. The night I took them, I gave Nick a ride home—his car wouldn’t start. I didn’t even know he was coming in that day. He’s retired from the force, but he still pops in. I was still on suspension—had to make up an excuse to go in at all. But that’s beside the point. The point is, I wasn’t expecting to see him, much less have him in my car. I ended up sticking everything inside a picnic cooler I’d left in the trunk of the Mustang, so he wouldn’t see it.”

She closed her eyes, thinking he couldn’t look more guilty without actually trying. “Where’s everything now?”

“Stashed in my garage.” He sighed. “The police are still going over the house, but they’ll get to the garage soon enough, and when they find those files…” He lowered his head and shook it slowly.

“It’s going to look bad,” she admitted.

“Yeah.” He looked up at her again. “I don’t want Nick to know about this award if he doesn’t have to, Dawn. It’s supposed to be hush-hush until the night of the ceremony. It’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that clear. But so’s your life.”

“If I have to reveal why I did it to get out of this mess, I will. Believe me. If they find those files in my garage—or if they go looking for them for background information on the current investigation and can’t find them—I’ll explain myself. But not until and unless I have to. Okay?”

“Okay.” She looked into his eyes, felt a little rush of something very familiar, and didn’t have the will to censor herself. “We’re gonna solve this thing, you know. You and me. Just like old times.”

“Maybe not quite like old times,” he said softly.

For a second the tension pulled tight between them. And then, to break it, she took his hand and began pulling him along the path behind her, back toward the inn.

“Where are we going?”

“To the inn, to get your car.”

“To go where?” he asked.

“To Shadow Falls. You’re taking me to your house.”

He stopped, using his weight to stay put, despite her tugging. “My house is currently cordoned off with crime-scene tape. And for all we know, there are cops there even as we speak.”

“We’re going, anyway.” She tugged again. “If there are police there, we’ll just keep on driving. But if no one’s around, we can take the opportunity to get those files out of there.”

“No. I can’t let you tamper with evidence, Dawn. You’ll wind up sharing a cell with me.”

She looked up into his face, still gripping his hand. “I can think of worse things.” She almost wished she could bite back the words, but instead she averted her eyes, ignored the heat rushing into her face and went on. “Besides, we’re not just going for the files. We need to get inside the house. Into the bedroom.”

“Why the hell would you want—”

“Because the place where Bette died is probably the best place for me to try to make contact with her.”

“I’m not gonna let you do that for me, Beth.”

She was encouraged, though, because he stopped holding his ground and instead let her pull him along the path beside her. They crossed the garden and emerged onto the lawn, where the winding footpath continued all the way to the front door. They were nearly to the porch steps when a speeding vehicle came squealing around the curve in the road. Headlights blinded her as she turned in alarm.

Brakes screeched, rubber burning on the pavement, and something flew past, hurled by the driver, smashing right through the Blackberry Inn’s living room window.

Bryan swore and raced toward the car, but it was already peeling out, fishtailing twice before the tires gripped the road, and speeding away.

He grabbed her upper arm and ran with her, up the front porch steps and into the inn. Beth and Josh, Nick and Rico were all standing in the foyer, and Rico’s gun was in his hand. Broken shards of glass littered the floor, and in their midst lay a brick with a piece of paper wrapped around it.

“Is everyone all right?” Bryan shouted.

“Yeah,” Josh told him. “Everyone’s fine.”

“You see anything, Bryan?” Nick asked.

“Black, Olds 88. Probably a ’93 or ’94. Vermont plates, too dirty to make out. Passenger-side taillight was broken.”

Dawn blinked at him, completely awestruck.

“Dawn?” Nick said.

She couldn’t take her eyes off Bryan. This was a side of him she’d never seen. Damn. He really was a cop. She’d known it, but she hadn’t known it. “What?”

“Did you see anything Bryan didn’t?”

“Hell, he lost me at black. And I wouldn’t even have been sure about that much.”

“Beth, can you get me a zipper bag and some salad tongs, please?” Bryan asked.

Beth rushed away and returned with the requested items. Bryan knelt beside the brick, and used the salad tongs to pull the paper off and unfold it. It wasn’t hard to read. Just one word. Murderer.

Dawn could see that it hit Bryan as powerfully as if the brick itself had nailed him in the belly. He actually flinched back from it.

Nick knelt beside him, took the tongs from his hands and used them to tuck the note into the plastic bag. Then he pushed the brick in, as well, lifted up the bag, closed the zip top and handed it to Rico. “You want to take this to the station, or you want me to?”

“I’m headed back there, anyway,” Rico said, and he took the bag and sent a sympathetic look at Bryan. “Hang in there, partner. This is just some ignorant jackass who wouldn’t know a good cop if one was pulling him out from under a bus. Just hang in.”

“I’m trying.” Bryan walked away from the others, head down.

Dawn went after him, put her hand on his shoulder. “We’ll go do what I said,” she told him when they were out of earshot. “It’ll help.”

Bryan shook his head. “No. Not tonight. It’s not safe, Dawn. Besides, it’s not legal. I think we should do this by the book. I get caught tampering with evidence, I’ll look even more guilty than I already do.”

She didn’t think it was possible for him to look more guilty than he already did, but she decided not to say so. Instead, she just nodded slowly. “All right, Bryan. If you’re sure.”

“I am. Besides,” he said, “I feel like I ought to call Bette’s parents tonight. And that’s gonna be—”

“It’s going to be hell. Did you ask your lawyer about doing that? ’Cause it sounds to me like something he’d advise against.”

“I did, and you’re right. He said no way. I’m doing it, anyway.”

He turned and walked up the stairs. Dawn watched him go, more determined than ever to help him. But when she looked toward the front door, her mind made up to go to his house alone, she froze as a shiver of fear worked up her spine.

Okay, maybe it would be stupid to go to the scene of a serial killer’s latest fun fest, in the dead of night, looking like the victim. Yeah. That was it. It wasn’t anything to do with the paralyzing fear of facing a dead girl in the darkness.

She would wait till daylight. That was what she would do.

A hand closed on her shoulder and she turned, knowing it was Nick before she looked at him.

“That brick through the window bullshit shook you up, didn’t it, Dawnie? You all right?”

She nodded. “Just tell me Bryan’s going to be okay.”

“We’re gonna make sure of that, little girl. All of us together. He’s glad you’re here. You know that, right?”

She smiled, liking the man’s easy, reassuring way. “I wasn’t so sure at first. And then I thought maybe he was, and then I wasn’t sure again.”

“He is.”

“I hope you’re right, Nick.”

“About him being glad you’re here? I know I’m right.”

“I meant about us making sure he’s going to be okay. We have to find out who killed Bettina Wright.”

“I hear you,” he told her.

“Don’t you worry, Dawn,” Beth called from the doorway into the dining room. “Nick is one of the best cops who ever served. The chief has put him back on duty, so he has all the authority he needs to help Bryan. And Josh is no slouch, either,” she added with a look behind her at her husband, who was carrying dinner plates into the kitchen. “To say nothing about Rico. And whether you know it yet or not, Bryan’s very good at his job, as well. And then there’s you and me,” Beth went on. “There’s no way we won’t solve this thing.”

Dawn sighed, nodding and wishing she felt as confident as Beth did. “I’m gonna head up to my room,” she said. “It was nice meeting you, Nick. Really nice. I’m glad Bryan has you on his side.” He smiled warmly at her, and she felt a connection with him. Then she turned to the others. “And that goes for you, too, Rico. Night, Beth, Josh.”

“Night, Dawn,” Beth called after her as she hurried up the stairs to her room.

Once inside, with the door closed behind her, Dawn closed her eyes, took a breath and nodded firmly, knowing what she had to do. She went to her bag, which she had yet to unpack, and fished out the pills she used to keep the dead at bay. She took out the bottle of vodka she’d thought she might need if the pills weren’t enough here, where the ghosts had always been waiting. Then she went into the adjoining bathroom and emptied both of them into the toilet. She didn’t want to have them around at all—if the ghosts started showing up again, the temptation to medicate them away might be too great to resist. Best to remove temptation once and for all.

She looked up at the ceiling then. “All right, here’s the deal. I’ll talk to the dead girl. Bettina Wright. But no one else. Okay?”

She waited, goose bumps rising on her arms, demanding she rub them away. But nothing happened. There were no disembodied voices. No pictures hurling themselves off the walls. No misty figures hovering six inches above the carpet.

“Yeah, well, I probably need to give it some time. The Ativan’s probably still in my bloodstream.”

That was most likely it. And even more reason to wait until morning to go to Bryan’s house—the scene of the crime. Maybe by then she would be able to see Bette.

She sank onto the bed, put her hand over her eyes and couldn’t believe she was actually hoping to talk to the dead again. Her father had been right, after all. You couldn’t run away from this thing. She wondered if he’d ever tried. Maybe that was how he knew.

Damn.