A Deadly Love (8 page)

Jesse frowned. “Don’t fuss. I’ve survived worse than this. It was a shock finding her, is all.”

“Then you’re tougher than I am. Goodnight, Grandpa.”

Dillon followed Harley down the trail, the light from his flashlight barely penetrating the thick fog. Only the sound of their feet on the packed earth broke the stillness of the night.

“I’m sorry about Cybil,” Harley said. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“True, but it doesn’t make what happened any less painful. Seeing her that way hit me like a punch to the gut, and I didn’t date her.”

Dillon rubbed his chest, his hand lingering. “Did that bastard really cut out her heart?”

“The coroner said he did. The autopsy will confirm it. Sick freak!” His voice echoed in the night.

They stopped beside his patrol car. “The state police will probably consider Jesse a person of interest. I told them he’s harmless, but he may be in for some tough questioning.”

Dillon sighed. “I figured as much. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“That would be best. No disrespect intended, but your grandpa isn’t always the most stable rung on the ladder.”

“He has his moments. Thanks for the heads up.” He took a step back. “Will you let me know if they get a lead on the guy who killed Cybil?”

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try. See you.”

The sheriff drove away, and Dillon rubbed his gritty eyes. He ached with fatigue and sorrow. A soft voice calling his name stopped him before he reached the house. He turned and peered through the fog.

“Brooke, is that you? What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Are you too exhausted to tell me what happened?”

Dillon crossed the yard and climbed the porch steps. She sat huddled beneath a blanket on the padded seat of the porch swing. When she moved her legs, he dropped down next to her.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway. It was God awful, worse than anything I imagined.”

Her hand found his beneath the blanket. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He leaned his head against the back of the swing. “The whole town will know by morning.” His grip on her hand tightened. “Some monster killed Cybil McCoy and left her body tied to a redwood tree.”

Her breath caught in an audible gasp. “Your Cybil?”

He nodded. “Yeah, once upon a time.” He stared out into the night.

“I’m so sorry.” She rested her cheek against his shoulder. “Do they have any idea who did it?”

“As far as I know, the police don’t have a clue.” He pulled her more firmly against his side, taking comfort in her warmth, the smell of her shampoo, the softness of her hand in his. “Until they do, I want you to be careful.”

He felt her tense. “Why? Surely it was some crazy stalker or obsessed fan who killed her.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe Cybil paid the ultimate price for her fame. But until they catch him, I don’t want you to go out in the woods alone. I don’t want you to take any risks.”

“I’m sure her killer is long gone. Anyone hanging around the area who isn’t a local would be an immediate suspect. Harley’s no fool.”

“No, he’s not, and the state police are involved.” He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. “Humor me, Brooke.”

She turned her head in the direction of the forest and shivered. “I won’t go wandering around by myself. I promise.”

He rested his chin against the top of her head as the tense knot in his chest eased slightly. “You should go to bed.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine. My relationship with Cybil ended years ago. What happened to her was unspeakably horrible, but it doesn’t affect me personally. It makes me sad and angry, but it isn’t going to ruin my life.”

“That may be true, but it probably isn’t much comfort after what you saw.”

He shuddered. “Maybe not.”

“I want to help, even if it’s just keeping you company.”

He lay back against the cushions, pulled her more fully into his arms, and stroked her silky hair. He pushed the picture of Cybil tied to the tree out of his mind and focused on the woman lying next to him. He kissed the side of her neck, his lips trailing across her soft skin. She was warm and very much alive.

“Thank you for staying,” he whispered in her ear.

She pressed his hand against her chest. “It’s where I want to be.”

****

Brooke knew the minute Dillon fell asleep. His breathing deepened and he relaxed against her, the tension draining from his body. She lay perfectly still, knowing how exhausted he was. She couldn’t begin to imagine the horror he must have felt when he discovered the murdered woman was someone he knew. Someone he had loved.

She pictured Cybil McCoy as she’d looked on the movie screen, larger than life and so very, very beautiful. As a child spending her summers in Woodvale, she hadn’t known the older girl well. Cybil had no interest in the skinny, blonde girl visiting her grandparents. Brooke, on the other hand, had watched her with envy for the place she held in Dillon’s heart.

Guilt ate at her. Had it been Cybil screaming in the night? If she’d called Harley, could he have saved the actress? A tear squeezed through her lashes. She’d never know if she could have made a difference.

Dillon moved restlessly, and Brooke tucked the blanket more tightly around them. Pressing her face against his chest, she listened to his breathing and smelled his woodsy male scent. Slowly the darkness faded to gray. As dawn broke across the forest, she had an uneasy feeling the crush she’d had on Dillon all those years ago was nothing compared to the feelings she harbored for him now. When his hand pressed more firmly against her chest, he touched her heart.

Chapter Five

Marnie Palmer was missing. Irene gave Dillon the news along with his soup and sandwich special.

“What do you mean missing?” He handed Zack a packet of crackers, and the boy crumbled them into his clam chowder. Dishes clattered in the kitchen, and Muzak drifted from hidden speakers. The smell of burgers and fries filled the air.

“She had an appointment to show the old Winston place at nine this morning. Her clients stopped in around nine-thirty for coffee, and I overheard them talking. They were pissed—” She glanced at Zack’s bent head. “I mean mad because they wasted their time driving out from Eureka on a Saturday morning for nothing.”

“Maybe Marnie overslept.”

The waitress leaned against the side of the booth and tucked a lock of graying hair behind her ear. “Now that’s what I thought at first, but after what happened to Cybil McCoy, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to check on Marnie. I called her house, and she didn’t answer. Then I called Harley and told him about it.” She stood up straighter, clutching the tray to her chest. “He told me not to panic.”

Dillon swallowed a spoonful of broccoli cheese soup. “Marnie probably had a date last night and stayed over. I bet she forgot she had a house to show this morning.”

“I hope so, though I don’t think she’s dated anyone since the two of you split up.” She glanced over her shoulder as three men wearing heavy work jackets and boots entered the diner. “Duty calls. Enjoy your lunch.”

He ate his ham sandwich and listened to his son’s detailed description of the cool ghost story Miss Farnsworth was reading to the class. His mind drifted. Images of Cybil tied to the giant redwood tightened his gut, and he pushed the remainder of his sandwich away.

“Dad, can I have chocolate cake for dessert?”

Dillon pulled out his wallet. “We’ll have dessert at home. I need to talk to Harley for a few minutes.”

“But Dad!”

“I’m sure Grandma June has cookies. She usually bakes on Saturday.”

Zack’s eyes brightened. “Brooke promised to make gingerbread men. She said I could help decorate them.”

“Then we’ll go straight over there as soon as I talk to Harley.”

He zipped up his son’s jacket, and they walked the short distance to the sheriff’s office. Harley gave Zack a packet of crayons and a wanted poster to color, and then stepped outside with Dillon. The day was overcast. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Any news?”

Harley shook his head. “We sent everything from the crime scene to the lab this morning, and the coroner scheduled Cybil’s autopsy for Monday.” He ran his hand through his short hair. “The state police are coordinating with the Hollywood cops, looking for possible suspects in her pool of acquaintances. Cybil hadn’t reported any problems with a stalker, but you never know with cases involving a celebrity. The police are questioning her friends and relatives. Maybe one of them will have something useful for us.”

Dillon stared down at the cracked sidewalk. “It doesn’t seem real.”

“I wish it weren’t. Cybil’s parents are flying into Crescent City today to officially identify her body.”

He kicked a rock, sending it skittering across the street. “I talked to Irene at the diner. Has Marnie turned up yet?”

“No, she hasn’t.” Harley’s brows lowered. “It’s not like her to miss an appointment with a client.”

“No, it’s not. I’ll drop Zack off at June’s and make a few phone calls, see if any of her friends know where she went.” His gaze met Harley’s. The sheriff’s lips were drawn in a tight line. “I’m sure she’ll show up.”

He nodded. “I’ll check her house. After what happened to Cybil, I’m not in the mood to wait twenty-four hours to start an official investigation.”

“Marnie keeps a key under the planter box to the right of the front door.”

“Thanks. Let me know what you hear.”

Dillon admired Zack’s wanted poster before hustling him down the street to his truck. He turned up the heater and headed toward home.

“Can I go over to Grandma June’s?” Zack asked as they pulled into the driveway.

“Sure.” He slammed the pickup door and followed his son across the lawn. Otis bounded around the corner of the house to greet them.

Brooke stepped out onto the front porch. She wore a pair of faded jeans and an old U.C. Berkeley sweatshirt. Her blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle. “Do the police have any new information?”

“I’m afraid not.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and ushered her into the warm house. The air was fragrant with the scent of cinnamon and ginger.

She headed toward the kitchen. “I promised Zack he could frost cookies this afternoon.”

“He was talking about it earlier.” He leaned against the refrigerator and smiled at June. “Do you mind if I leave him here for a while? I have a few phone calls to make.”

June dried her hands on a dish towel and smiled back. “Of course I don’t mind.”

Zack burst through the kitchen door with Otis at his heels. Dillon gave his son a hug and turned to leave. Brooke followed him into the other room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Probably nothing.” He rubbed his hand across his prickly jaw. “Marnie seems to be missing.”

Her eyes widened, and her color receded. “Someone didn’t—take her, did they?”

He stepped forward and pulled her against his chest. “There’s no reason to believe anything happened to Marnie. She missed an appointment this morning, so I’m going to call a few of her friends to check on her.”

Brooke looked up at him. “Go make the calls.”

He cupped her face in his hands and bent to brush his lips across hers. “Thanks for staying with me last night.”

Her smile didn’t dispel the worry in her eyes. “I was glad to, though it wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned our evening ending.”

He let out a breath. “No, it wasn’t.” He kissed her again, pulling away when his body responded in a predictable fashion. He rested his forehead against hers. “I have to go. I’ll stop by for Zack later.”

“Take all the time you need. He’ll be fine.”

An hour later, Dillon hung up the phone and rubbed his throbbing temples. While he dialed the number to the sheriff’s office, he pulled a bottle of pain-reliever out of the kitchen cabinet, shook two tablets into his palm, and swallowed them dry. The dispatcher answered the phone.

“Hi, Fran. It’s Dillon. I need to talk to Harley.”

“He’s out right now. You might try his cell.”

“Will do. Thanks.” He hung up and dialed again. Leaning against the kitchen wall, he closed his eyes and waited for Harley to pick up.

“Hey, Dillon, any luck?” the sheriff asked.

“No. No one I spoke to has any idea where Marnie went. Lisa Stevens said she isn’t dating anyone right now, and the day before yesterday, Marnie told her all about the hot prospect she had for the Winston house.”

Harley swore. “It doesn’t seem like she would’ve willingly missed her appointment.”

He stared down at the breakfast dishes still sitting in the sink. “I’m worried about her. Did you check her house?”

“I’m there now. I didn’t have to use the spare key. The door was unlocked. The bedroom and entry lights are on, but nothing seems to be out of place. I checked her closet, and there aren’t a lot of empty hangers. Her suitcases are still here, though I suppose she could have a few things in an overnight bag.”

“Marnie wouldn’t go off and leave her front door unlocked. She’s too meticulous about things like that.”

“Her car is in the garage, so unless someone picked her up, she didn’t go far.”

“What should we do?”

“Search the woods. I’m going to round up a few of the local men to help.”

Dillon let out a deep breath as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. “God, you’re not thinking we’ll find her the same way we did Cybil.”

“I don’t know what to think. I’ll meet you at your house in a half-hour.”

“Meet me at Jesse’s cabin instead. He’ll want to join the search, and we can spread out from there.”

Dillon dropped the phone into its cradle. With jerky movements, he stuffed a few energy bars, a bottle of water, a flashlight, and a first aid kit into a backpack. He left the house and crossed the yard, knocking softly on June’s kitchen door. Zack opened it holding a spatula covered in orange frosting. Several streaks of orange decorated the front of his T-shirt.

“Hi, Dad. I’m not done frosting cookies yet.”

“You can stay a while longer if Brooke doesn’t mind.” His gaze met hers over Zack’s head. Her blue eyes were full of questions.