A Deadly Love (7 page)

He grinned, his teeth a flash of white in the dark. “I never spent much time admiring the view. The kids call this make out point.”

Brooke laughed. “Dillon Tremayne, what exactly do you have in mind?”

He unbuckled her seatbelt and tugged her up against his side. “We said we were going to have fun together, right? This is fun.”

She touched his hair, letting the silky strands slide through her fingers. “Maybe not as much fun as a room, but safer.”

His lips ran along the side of her neck, sending a jolt of longing straight through her.

“Definitely safer.”

His mouth found hers in a drugging kiss that left her hungry for more. His tongue stroked and teased while his hands worked their way under her sweater and spread across the skin of her back.

She sat halfway across his lap, her breath coming in quick pants. When he cupped her breast, she moaned. “I don’t know how much more I can take. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.”

His fingers drifted slowly away, leaving her sensitive flesh chilled. His chin rested on top of her head, and she felt his heart thundering in his chest.

“I’m about two seconds away from stripping off your clothes and finishing this. I had more self-control when I was eighteen.”

Her hip pressed against the bulge in his jeans. She closed her eyes as her control slipped out of reach. “Maybe we should go home.”

He let out a breath. “Yeah, probably.”

“Where we can have a little privacy.”

He stroked her cheek, the calluses on his fingers rough against her skin. “I don’t want to rush you. You said—”

“I know what I said.” She turned her face and gently bit his thumb. “I changed my mind.”

He kissed her, and desire, hot and burning, pooled deep inside her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so excited by a man’s touch. When he shifted her off his thighs, she whimpered.

“If I try to drive with you in my lap, we’ll never make it home.”

Brooke bit her lip. “Drive fast.”

His cell phone rang as he reached for the keys hanging in the ignition. Its trilling notes snapped the sexual tension between them. Frowning, he pulled the phone from his jacket pocket and checked the display.

“It’s Jesse. I have to take this. He wouldn’t call so late unless something was wrong.”

She scooted over onto her side of the seat and straightened her sweater. A deep chill settled into her bones as she listened to Dillon’s side of the conversation. Fear slid down her spine.

“Slow down, Grandpa. I can’t understand you.” Dillon’s hand tightened on the phone until his knuckles gleamed white in the moonlight. “Are you certain she’s dead?” He tucked the phone against his shoulder and started the engine. “Call Harley. I’ll be there as soon as I can. No, you can’t wait for me to get there. Call him now.”

He snapped the phone shut and pulled out onto the road. His lips were a thin, tight line. “Grandpa found a woman dead in the woods. He was so upset I couldn’t get any details, just something about a tree and blood. Lots of blood.”

“Oh God,” Brooke whispered. She wrapped her jacket around her and pushed her hands up into the sleeves. He turned up the heat before focusing his attention on the road. The truck flew around the corners, the headlight beams slicing through the darkness. She closed her eyes, feeling sick.

“Almost there.” He slowed to make the turn onto the road leading to Woodvale.

Brooke opened her eyes. “Do you think it’s her?”

He glanced over. “Who?”

“The woman I saw on the road. She was running from something.” Her voice shook. “Maybe she’s the one I heard scream.”

“Your accident was nearly two weeks ago. I can’t imagine the incidents are connected.”

She braced herself as he barreled around a corner. “You’re right. I wish I could get that woman’s face out of my mind.”

“I’m sure the person Jesse found was involved in some sort of accident or animal attack. There’s no reason to think otherwise.”

Brooke clasped her shaking hands together in her lap as the few lights in the center of town flashed by. Dillon covered the final mile in under a minute and pulled into his driveway. Harley’s cruiser was parked a few yards away.

Leaning past her, Dillon grabbed a flashlight out of the glove box. “I’ll let you know what happened when I can.”

She nodded. “Go take care of Jesse. He needs you.”

“Thanks for understanding.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and slammed the truck door behind him.

His bobbing light disappeared into the forest. Moments later she was alone in the dark.

****

Dillon found Jesse and Harley a half-mile north of his grandfather’s cabin. Lanterns lit up the base of a giant redwood where a woman’s body was tied to the trunk. Her arms were splayed out from her body, wrists bound. Blood drenched the front of her long white dress, and slippers dangled from her feet. Her head hung forward, blonde hair partially obscuring her mutilated chest. Dillon swallowed hard.

“Holy mother of God.”

Harley glanced over and lowered his camera. “Stay back. This is a crime scene, and I don’t want it contaminated.”

Dillon hunkered down beside his grandfather. Jesse sat on a rotted log, his head tilled back, his face gray in the moonlight. A shotgun lay at his feet.

“You okay, Grandpa?”

“I’ve been better. It was a shock, coming upon that poor woman. I’ve never seen such a gruesome sight in all my eighty-five years, not even during the war.”

“Can I take him home, Harley?”

The sheriff snapped off several more pictures. “I suppose so, but I’ll need a complete statement when I finish here. The state police and coroner should be along shortly.”

“You know where to find us.”

He helped his grandfather to his feet, then moved back as several men emerged from the trail. The deputy in the lead let out a strangled cry and ran into the bushes to heave up his dinner.

“Jesus, Dwayne, if your stomach is that weak, don’t come any closer.” Harley nodded to the other men. “You can see why I called for support. My department doesn’t have any experience dealing with the sort of sick pervert who did this.”

Dillon touched Jesse’s arm, and they headed down the trail. His own stomach churned uneasily. Taking deep breaths of the moist night air, he struggled to control his nausea.

“Must have been an escaped lunatic from the prison. I always said something like this would happen when they built that place.”

Dillon glanced back. “There haven’t been any breakouts at Pelican Bay. If an escaped inmate was running loose in the area, the local news would be all over it.”

“Well who else would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know, Grandpa. Someone sick, that’s for certain.”

The ferns beside the trail rustled, and Jesse cried out, swinging his shotgun into position. Dillon jumped out of the way and grabbed the gun.

“Put that thing down! It’s just a raccoon.”

His flashlight beam illuminated the creature as it scurried across the path and disappeared into the underbrush. The breeze stirred the tree branches overhead, crickets chirped, and somewhere in the night an owl hooted.

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“Then you shouldn’t be carrying a gun.”

Jesse’s grip on the weapon tightened. “A man has a right to defend himself. No one’s taking my shotgun.”

Dillon sighed. “Let’s get back to the cabin.”

A lantern sat on the table, a beacon burning in the darkness. Its light shone through the window as they crossed the clearing in front of the cabin. Dillon turned off his flashlight and pushed open the door. His grandfather followed him inside. With trembling hands, Jesse placed the shotgun on the rack over the door.

“Sit down, Grandpa.” Dillon opened the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, poured a shot of amber liquid into the Mason jar his grandfather used as a drinking glass, and handed it to him.

Jesse took a sip and coughed, but a little color returned to his face. He took a second sip and leaned back in his chair.

“Do you want to tell me how you found that woman, or would you rather wait until Harley gets here?”

“I’ll tell you now. I want to make sure I have it all straight in my head. I don’t want to forget anything important when I talk to the sheriff.”

Dillon nodded. He hesitated for a moment, then poured a shot for himself. Looking into his grandfather’s frightened eyes, he had a feeling he would need it.

Jesse finished his whiskey and set the glass on the table. “I’ve been hearing noises in the night for a few weeks now, not every night mind you, just once in a while. I’ve heard screams a couple of times and crashing noises, as if someone or something was running through the forest.”

“Could it have been an animal?”

“I suppose a bear out of hibernation might make that sort of racket in the bushes, and a rabbit or squirrel will squeal to wake the dead when it’s caught by an owl. I stood in the yard and called out, but no one ever answered.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Jesse shrugged. “I figured you’d think I was imagining things, and it would give you one more reason to pressure me into moving in with you and Zack.”

Dillon’s lips tightened. He placed his glass in the sink and sat down on the second chair. “What happened tonight?”

“I heard noises earlier in the evening, but they stopped. I was in bed when the scream woke me, closer this time, and unmistakably a woman. I threw on my clothes, got my shotgun and spare lantern, and set off to find her. It took a while ’cause I wasn’t certain exactly where the sound came from.”

He let out a long breath and clasped his trembling hands together in his lap. “I found her just the way you saw her, alone, tied to the tree. It was dark, but I could see the blood. Still, I had to be sure.” He swallowed. “I set my lantern at her feet, and that’s when I saw her chest had been cut open. I backed away and called you and Harley. Then I waited.”

“Jesus, Grandpa.” Dillon ran a shaking hand through his hair.

Jesse’s voice was a whisper. “I could be mistaken, but I think something was missing.”

Dillon frowned. “Do you mean part of her clothes or a purse?”

“No, something inside her.” He raised his head and met Dillon’s gaze. “I think that madman took her heart.”

At his grandfather’s words, a shiver shot down Dillon’s spine, and a hollow feeling settled in his gut. He went to the window and looked out at the black night. The moon had sunk below the trees, and the fog was settling in, obscuring the stars.

This was his forest, a place of surreal beauty. It was full of his most vivid childhood memories of building forts and games of hide-and-seek amongst the trees. He made a living here, as his father and grandfather had before him. His fists clenched at his sides. And now it had been violated by a lunatic.

They waited in silence for an eternity. The clock on the wall chimed twice on the hour. Jesse dozed in his chair, but a knock at the door brought him awake.

Dillon opened the door, and Harley stepped inside. Lines of fatigue creased the sheriff’s face, and his dark eyes were hard as he glanced around the cabin. His gaze settled on the whiskey bottle.

“I could use some of that.”

Dillon walked to the counter, lifted another Mason jar from the shelf, and poured a shot. He handed it to Harley. “It’s been quite a night for all of us.”

Harley swallowed the whiskey. “You may want to have a seat, Dillon. I’m about to make it worse.”

Jesse rubbed his hand over his bearded chin. “What could be worse than finding that poor woman?”

The sheriff leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He opened them and looked straight at Dillon. “The victim was someone we knew. After the coroner cut her down from the tree, I got a good look at her face.” His voice shook. “It was Cybil McCoy.”

A hard, hot knot lodged in Dillon’s throat. He swallowed twice before he could speak. “Are you certain?”

Harley nodded. “We’ll have to get official confirmation, but it was Cybil. She may have left town years ago, but I’ve seen all her movies. There’s no mistaking that face.”

Dillon stood and walked out of the cabin. He pressed his face into his hands. Tears dampened his fingers. He pictured Cybil the way she’d looked in high school, standing next to her locker, laughing at something he’d said. He saw her beautiful eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun as they swam in Manzanita Lake, the two of them alone in the forest on a hot summer day. He remembered the feel of her slim body beneath his as they made love for the first time on a blanket in these very woods.

Harley touched his shoulder. “You okay?”

Dillon wiped his eyes. “No, I’m not. Cybil was the first girl I ever loved. Who would kill her, Harley? Who would torture her that way?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe an obsessed fan.”

“But why here? Why in the woods where she grew up? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. Come back inside when you’re ready. I need to talk to Jesse.”

Dillon took a steadying breath and followed him into the cabin. He listened as his grandfather repeated the facts he’d related earlier, but his mind was still on Cybil. She’d been a golden girl destined for greater things than Woodvale could offer. She’d gone straight to Hollywood the day after high school graduation, and within a few years had become a star. Her family moved away, but the whole community still considered her one of their own. His sense of loss was more personal.

Harley took notes and asked Jesse a few questions. Fear and anguish were clear in his grandfather’s voice as he ran through the sequence of events a second time. Knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to ease his grandfather’s pain made his heart ache. After Jesse finished, he cleared his throat.

“Brooke told me she heard a scream a few nights ago. She was outside with her dog.”

Harley scribbled something in his book. “I’ll ask her about it.” He stuffed the notebook in his pocket and stood. “Thank you, Jesse. Get some sleep, now, but don’t be surprised if the detectives show up to ask more questions in the morning.”

“In other words, don’t take a shot at any strangers at your door.” Dillon rested his hand on his grandfather’s shoulder. “I’ll be by tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”