A Deadly Love (9 page)

“Did you find Marnie?”

“Not yet. A few of us are going out to look for her.”

Her lips tightened, and she nodded. “Zack and I have plenty to do. I’m going to start painting the house this afternoon, and he can help.”

He pictured his son with a paint brush and shuddered. “I owe you.”

“We’ll talk about that after Marnie shows up safe and sound.”

“Thanks, Brooke.” He ruffled Zack’s hair and left. Hurrying through the forest, he looked for bent or broken branches in the undergrowth and saw nothing. No one had left the trail in this section of the forest. When he reached his grandfather’s cabin, he rapped sharply on the door and pushed it open. Jesse was sitting at the table eating a sandwich.

He shut the door. “Late lunch?”

“Damned police spent half the morning asking me the same questions Harley asked last night.”

“Did you remember anything else?”

“Nothing to remember.” Jesse frowned. “You don’t look so good.”

“I didn’t sleep much.” Dillon pulled out a chair. “Marnie Palmer is missing. A few of us are going out to search for her in the woods.”

Jesse laid his sandwich on his plate and stared at him. “What the hell is going on around here?”

“I don’t know, Grandpa. We don’t have any reason to think we’ll find Marnie in the woods, but we need to make absolutely certain she isn’t out there somewhere.”

He pushed back his chair. “I’ll get my coat and my gun.”

Dillon stood and rested his hand on his grandfather’s shoulder. “Eat your sandwich first. It’ll be a few minutes before Harley gets here.”

Jesse finished his lunch and was waiting with his shotgun when Harley arrived with a couple of deputies and several local men. He split them into groups and assigned search areas.

Dillon crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his grandfather. “Leave your gun. We aren’t going to find anything more dangerous than a rabid squirrel.”

His bushy white brows lowered. “You don’t know that.”

“I feel pretty confident I’m right.” He held out his hand for the gun.

Grumbling beneath his breath, Jesse stalked back to the cabin and returned a minute later without the gun. Carter Shaw grinned. “Let’s go, Jesse. We’ve got the southeast quadrant. You can stick with me.”

Dillon and Elliot Locke fell in behind them.

“It’s awful about Cybil,” Elliot said after a short silence.

“Yeah.” Dillon pushed aside a huckleberry bush. “I don’t see how Cybil’s murder can be related to Marnie’s disappearance, but I guess we need to make sure.”

“Those two women don’t have anything in common other than the fact they both grew up in Woodvale.”

Dillon glanced over at him. “Marnie must have a new man in her life, someone she didn’t talk about to her friends. She’ll turn up shortly, embarrassed to have unintentionally set off such an alarm.”

Elliot pushed his wire rimmed glasses up his nose. “You’re probably right. Marnie never has a problem finding someone to date.”

The conversation lagged as they reached the search area assigned to them. The four men split up and went in opposite directions. After an hour of thrashing through the sword fern and tan oak, Dillon made his way back to their meeting spot. Carter was already there.

The doctor hopped down from his seat on a rotted stump. “Anything?”

“Not a sign of Marnie or anyone else for that matter. As far as I can tell, no one has been in this area in quite a while.”

Carter nodded. “We won’t find her. The sick pervert who killed Cybil can’t have anything to do with Marnie.”

“That’s what I told Elliot. She’s off somewhere with potential husband number three.”

Carter grinned. “Is that why you two split? Was Marnie hearing church bells?”

Dillon sighed. “Yeah. You know how she is, determined to get her way when she sets her mind to something. I didn’t want her imagining there was more to our relationship than having a good time.”

The smile disappeared. “I know how Marnie is. You and Cybil and Marnie and me, we had ourselves quite a time back in the day.” His penetrating blue gaze met Dillon’s. “I’m sorrier than I can say about Cybil.”

“Me, too.” He turned abruptly as a rustling in the underbrush drew his attention. Jesse stepped out of the lengthening shadows, and Elliot arrived a few minutes later.

“Any sign of her?” Carter asked.

Jesse shook his head. “No news is good news. Where do we head from here?”

Dillon pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and checked in with Harley before they moved on. It was getting almost too dark to see when they finished searching their last assigned section. Wearily, he led the way back to Jesse’s cabin.

The search parties were breaking up, the men heading home. Harley laid a hand on Dillon’s arm. “You look exhausted. Go home and get some sleep.”

His lips curved in a tired smile. “I will if you will. There’s nothing else we can do tonight.”

Not in the mood for company, he started down the trail alone. He shivered in the chilly evening air and shoved his hands more deeply into his pockets. Damp mist swirled around him. A light glowed ahead in the darkness. The thought of Brooke waiting behind that bright window quickened his step as he left the woods behind.

****

He shut the door to his home and leaned against it, exhaustion weighing on him like an anvil. He’d spent hours with the others, “searching” for the women. The fools didn’t have a clue. Blinking grainy eyes, he pulled off his boots, dropped them on the floor, and padded into the kitchen in his socks. After fishing a bottle of whiskey from the back of the cupboard, he poured a shot and gulped it down.

Fire burned a trail to his gut, and a shudder wracked his body. Cupping his hands under the running faucet, he splashed water on his face, then stood with his head hanging. After a moment, he reached for a towel.

No one understood why he had to do it. They thought he was some sort of freak, an amoral psychopath. Couldn’t all those righteous citizens see that the women had forced him to take action? Didn’t they know a man could only be teased and tempted so far before his defenses crumbled? As girls, they’d stolen his affection with no thought to the consequences, and now he had to take back the pieces of his heart, make it whole again.

He threw the towel, knocking over the shot glass. It shattered on the floor, sending shards of glass in every direction. Taking a deep breath, he bent to clean up the mess. He would pick up the broken pieces and move on.

****

Brooke heard Otis barking as she pulled the hot casserole dish from the oven. Steam rose, and she sniffed appreciatively. When the kitchen door opened, Dillon entered with the dog at his heels. She dropped the pot holders on the counter and smiled. “You’re just in time for dinner.”

“I’m pretty hungry.” He set his backpack on the floor and crossed the kitchen, stopping directly in front of her.

Her breath caught when he reached out and touched her cheek.

“Paint,” he said, holding up a finger smudged white.”

“I must have missed a spot.” She studied his face, noting the deeply etched lines around his mouth and the creases in his forehead. “Did you find Marnie?”

He shook his head. “I spent the whole afternoon praying we wouldn’t.” He nodded toward the casserole. “That smells good.”

“It’ll taste even better. Grandma made it.”

He reached out again and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

Her stomach quivered at the casual touch.

“I don’t hear my son. Did you get tired of his help and lock him in a closet?”

“Zack is a very energetic painter. I think he wore himself out. He’s in the living room playing dominoes with Grandma.”

Dillon took a step forward and pulled her against his chest. “Then this seems like a golden opportunity.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “For what?”

“This.” He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips cool against hers. He tasted of the night air. Her hands crept up, touching the back of his neck, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue pushed into her mouth, stroking hers.

Brooke moaned low in her throat and pressed closer against him. Heat surged through her body as his hands clasped her bottom and kneaded the flesh beneath the denim of her jeans.

Running footsteps broke them apart. She took a step back as Zack burst into the room. With a hand that wasn’t quite steady, she touched her lips.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi, Son. Did you have fun this afternoon?”

“It was great. I painted and painted. Then Brooke got clean clothes for me from our house and made me take a bath.” He wrinkled his nose. “That part wasn’t so awesome.”

Dillon smiled. “I’m deeply in her debt.”

While the boy chattered to his father, Brooke and June brought the food to the table. The conversation during dinner revolved around the house painting project, and it wasn’t until Zack was busy eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream and a gingerbread cookie in front of the TV that Brooke was able to talk to Dillon alone.

She scraped the last dinner plate and loaded it into the dishwasher before turning to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There isn’t much to say.” He rubbed his hand down the side of his face and sighed. “Marnie disappeared without leaving a clue to her whereabouts. Her house was unlocked, her car in the garage. There’s no sign of a struggle or any other reason to think she was taken against her will.”

“Is it like her to go off without telling anyone?”

“Maybe, but she missed an important appointment, and that definitely isn’t her style.”

She touched his sleeve. “After what happened to Cybil, I can understand why you’re worried.”

He reached for her hand. “Grab your jacket, and let’s go outside for a minute.”

Brooke took a fleece jacket off the hook by the door and followed him into the yard. He led her around the house to the front porch and pulled her down onto the swing. She shivered.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

Pulling her closer, he wrapped her in his arms. She leaned against his chest.

“Thanks for watching Zack this afternoon.”

“It wasn’t a problem. He’s a great kid, funny and smart.”

“Sometimes a little too smart.” His breath stirred her hair. “If he sees us together, he’ll start getting ideas.”

Brooke looked up at him. “Would that bother you?”

“I don’t want him to get hurt. The other day he talked about how his friend, Brad, has a new mom and wondered when he would get one. I don’t want him forming expectations.”

“You have no intention of marrying again?” she asked.

“I have enough on my plate with Zack and Jesse and Big Timber. Sometimes I feel like I’m spread too thin as it is.”

She pulled away slightly. “Is that how you see a relationship, as another demand on your time?”

“Quite frankly, yes.”

Brooke reared back. “Is this your subtle way of warning me not to have expectations either?”

“Ah, hell, now you’re mad.”

“What did you expect?” she demanded, her tone sharp. “I’m not thrilled to hear you consider spending time with me a burden.”

He closed his eyes briefly before meeting her gaze. “I didn’t mean anything of the sort. Being with you is great.”

“But?”

“There is no but. I like you, Brooke. I like having you around.”

“So we can date occasionally, maybe make out on the sly like a couple of teenagers when Zack isn’t nearby, but that’s all?”

He sighed. “Why does it sound like such a bad thing when you say it?”

She ground her teeth together. “I’m angry because you’re assuming I want more than you’re willing to give. Did I ask for a commitment? I don’t remember having that particular conversation.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “No, but you’ve been so terrific—”

“So I must have an ulterior motive,” she interrupted. “Did it ever occur to you I just want to be nice? I know you’re going through hell, and I was trying to ease the burden a little.”

He pulled her back into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass. You’ve helped me tremendously, and I’m not talking about watching Zack. Just holding you makes me feel better.” He let out a deep breath. “I want to lash out at someone. I want to make someone pay for what happened to Cybil.”

“And it doesn’t help that you’re worried about Marnie.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

She turned in his arms and cupped his face in her hands. “Please don’t stress out over me. I have no intention of being a burden.” She traced his lips with her finger. “I’m attracted to you. I like kissing you.” She smiled and touched her mouth to his. “Hey, I even like your kid, but I’m not looking for a husband. I jumped off that bandwagon when Gavin broke my heart. I’m not anxious for a repeat performance.”

He kissed her, his lips sliding in a path along her jaw. His voice whispered in her ear. “Are we good now?”

“Of course we are, but since I have no intention of spending another night on this swing, I think you should go home. You need to get some sleep.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that. I must look like shit.”

Brooke laughed. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you I still think you’re hot?”

He stood and pulled her up off the swing. “You shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ll need a cold shower before I get any sleep tonight.”

After Dillon thanked June for dinner and herded Zack out the door, Brooke settled into a corner of the settee to watch
Jeopardy!
with her grandmother, wondering why anyone would know the year the Spanish American war started or who invented the micro chip. When the show was over, she picked up the mystery she was reading, but put it down after reading the same page three times. Walking to the window, she lifted the lace curtain and peered out at the dark night.

“What’s wrong, honey?” June asked. She turned off the home decorating program she’d been watching and regarded Brooke with worried eyes.

She dropped the curtain. “Do you think the psycho who killed Cybil has Marnie? Do you think he’s still out there somewhere?”

“There’s no point in borrowing trouble.” June looked down at the dog asleep in front of the fireplace. “I’m glad we have this big brute around, just in case.”