Krewe of Hunters 8 The Uninvited (24 page)

The person she’d portrayed was a new man. He was older than he
appeared in the study painting, but the eyes were those from the painting in the
bedroom. What they saw was a serious man, worn with the rigors of life, but
thoughtful rather than cruel.

“Great image, Jane. It combines the two images into what’s
probably closest to truth,” Tyler said.

“So…where are we? I might be a descendent of Lucy’s
illegitimate child, and Beast Bradley was human. That doesn’t tell us who killed
Julian,” Allison said.

“No, but we’re getting there.”

Logan nodded slowly. “It was a woman who spoke to Martin
Standish, and the one who has the most to lose—being the last descendent of the
Dandridge family—is Cherry Addison. We’ll see if we can trip her up
tonight.”

“Phone tap?” Tyler suggested.

“I’ll speak to Adam.”

“I need to go back to my house,” Allison said. “I guess now
would be as good a time as any.”

“I’ll walk you over,” Tyler offered.

“Kelsey said she didn’t mind…” Allison began.

“No, but I could use a walk. Helps me think,” he said. “We’re
going to stop by the morgue, as well, remember? So on second thought, we’d
better drive.”

Allison nodded, feeling excitement sweep through her veins. She
turned quickly, not wanting anyone to see.

She was even willing to go back to the morgue for time alone
with him. Well, sort of alone…

When she’d first met Tyler, she’d never imagined she could feel
about him the way she did.

As much as it thrilled her, it scared her, too. Maybe,
subconsciously, she felt she had to sabotage the possibility of the two of them
being together. Maybe her last affair had been such a fiasco that she didn’t
trust her own instincts.

“Anyone who wants to shower or shave or get ready in a real
bathroom with lots of hot water is welcome to come to my house,” she said.

“Thanks,” Logan called to her.

No one else responded. They were already talking again, working
again.

It wasn’t right to feel this way about a man she’d just
met.

But she did.

14

E
ven Dr. Grant, who’d spent a great deal of
time with Kat, knew Adam and had been as patient as a saint with them, was
perturbed when Tyler told her they needed to see the body again.

She didn’t deny his request, but looked at him very
strangely.

“Dr. Sokolov was here with me during the autopsy. I assure you,
everything was done correctly and thoroughly,” she insisted.

“You know she was killed by a snakebite. We believe that snake
was purposely put in Ms. Vining’s car to kill her,” Tyler said. “Did her heart
give out?”

Dr. Grant nodded absently, clearly somewhat confused. But she
allowed them to go back into the freezer and pull out the corpse. Tyler
distracted her with questions about the autopsy, while Allison touched Sarah’s
face. She’d closed her eyes and was completely still for several minutes. Dr.
Grant began to stare at her, so Tyler distracted the doctor again with news
about the accident.

“By the way, animal control found the snake. It was coiled up
beneath the driver’s seat.”

“Her driving must have disturbed the creature,” Dr. Grant said.
“Ms. Vining had several contusions, and a broken rib—from the air bag and
struggling out of the car. I’ve confirmed that the toxin, combined with the
trauma of being hit by another vehicle, caused complete failure of her
heart.”

“Thank you for bearing with us,” Tyler said. “We really want
this solved. And, Dr. Grant, everything about this case is being kept
quiet.”

“Of course. We don’t have leaks here, Agent Montague.”

He was glad to see Allison was stepping away from the
corpse.

“Thank you,” he told Dr. Grant a second time. “We’ll try not to
bother you again.”

“Mr. Oxford wants to make arrangements with a funeral home. He
said he doesn’t expect a large turnout, and that he and several other people
associated with the house were her closest friends. But he’s been asking me
about releasing the body, since he’d like to have a service for her.”

“She always said she wanted to be buried or entombed at the
Tarleton-Dandridge House,” Allison murmured.

“Really?” Dr. Grant seemed surprised. “I thought Mr. Oxford
said she was to be cremated.”

That was a surprise to both of them.

As they left the medical examiner’s office, Tyler already had
his phone out. Allison glanced at him quizzically.

“I’m calling Adam. I don’t want Sarah cremated.”

“I know she wouldn’t have wanted that, either,” Allison
said.

He nodded. When he’d finished speaking with Adam, Tyler hung up
and looked at her. “Well?” he asked. “What did you learn from Sarah?”

“She emphatically denies that she called Martin Standish to
give him a hard time. In fact, she swears she never even talked to the man.”

“I didn’t think it was Sarah, but now we’re sure of it.”

“The dead never lie?” she asked.

“The dead are like the living. Was Sarah a liar?”

“No, not that I know of,” Allison replied.

“Then why would she lie now? Did you ask her why she was so
eager to help you sort through the stuff in the office?”

“Yes, she said she was worried. She didn’t know why everything
was messed up like that, and in light of what happened to Julian, she thought
she could help figure things out.”

They walked to the car. “Do we have time for a quick stop at
the hospital?” she asked. “I hate to disappoint a child and I promised Todd I’d
go to see his father.”

“Of course.”

Yes, the hospital. It was right to go there; a child depended
on them. But, in reality, was it going to change Artie Dixon’s condition if and
when they solved the murder?

And what the hell was the matter with him?

He was better off when he and Allison weren’t alone.

When there were others around to ensure that he kept his
distance.

“Of course,” he repeated.

At the hospital he discovered that Haley Dixon maintained her
constant vigil. She sat by her husband day and night; her sister brought the
children to see their father, and then took them home, trying to keep their
lives somewhat normal.

Allison convinced Haley to let her sit with Artie, and Tyler
talked her into taking a break and going down to the hospital cafeteria with
him.

He bought Haley a coffee and they sat at a table. She looked
terrible. There were huge dark circles under her eyes and she was gaunt, as if
she hadn’t eaten since her husband got sick.

“Has he woken again?” Tyler asked. “Even for a few
seconds?”

Haley shook her head. “I don’t understand it,” she said.
“They’ve PET-scanned him, CAT-scanned him, you-name-it-scanned him, and they
can’t find the reason. The doctor said it was as if a door had just shut in his
brain, the door that gave him access to the outside world. Everyone here is so
nice, but they’ve already talked to me about places that provide extended care.
They’re at a loss.”

Tyler murmured his sympathy.

She reached across the table and gripped his hand. “You’re my
only hope! Please, you and Ms. Leigh—you’re my only hope. You can’t give up on
us. You can’t give up.”

“We won’t,” Tyler promised her.

“He seems better after she’s been here. That sounds ridiculous,
doesn’t it? He’s in a coma. But it’s as if he breathes easier, as if…as if
there’s sunshine in the room.” She sighed. “I know other dreadful things are
going on. I heard about the accident. My sister said she barely missed being in
it. Oh, my God! If my sister had been there…if my kids…I think I’d lose my mind
completely.”

“Your children weren’t in it and neither was your sister,”
Tyler said in a calm voice.

Her eyes focused on his. “But that woman… I never met her, but
that woman who was killed—
she
was on the board for
the Tarleton-Dandridge House. I read about her in the paper. She caused the
accident and now she’s dead. She was from that awful, awful house.”

“The house didn’t kill anyone, Mrs. Dixon.”

“No, the painting does this stuff,” she said earnestly. “The
painting of that heinous man, Beast Bradley.”

“Paintings don’t kill, either. There’s someone real and alive
who’s doing those things, and we’re going to find out who it is. You have to
protect your own health for your husband’s sake—and for your children.”

She nodded, and almost smiled at him. “You’re right,” she told
him. “It’s just…there was something about that painting. I was creeped out by
it. So was Todd. Of course, it wasn’t in the room with us when Artie slipped
into the coma, but…I don’t know. I can’t help thinking there’s something wrong
with it. Maybe Artie realized that before he went into the coma.”

“We’ll look at it again,” Tyler said.

She let out a soft sigh. “Thank you. It was good to get away
for a few minutes, but we should head back now.”

* * *

Allison had run out of things to say, but she kept
talking, holding Artie Dixon’s hand. She wasn’t afraid…she even whispered to him
that she was looking forward to spending more time alone with Agent
Montague.

She paused when she thought she heard him speak. She went
completely still, staring at him intently. He hadn’t moved. Nothing about him
had changed.

But it was as if he’d spoken….

“The painting,” he told her. “There’s something wrong with that
painting. Maybe if you can tear it apart, you’ll discover what it is.”

For a minute, ice filled her veins.

She’d recently learned she could speak with the dead.

Was Artie dead?

She managed not to jerk her hands away. She hadn’t breathed in
that moment of shock; now she inhaled deeply. She could see his heartbeat on the
monitor.

She heard Mrs. Dixon and Tyler in the hallway, returning to the
room.

Squeezing Artie’s hand, she said, “I’ll have them look at the
painting again. I’ll have their special-effects person tear it apart. We’ll find
out. I can hear you, and if I can hear you, you’re in there and your family
wants you well. Please—come back to us,” she whispered urgently.

When Mrs. Dixon and Tyler stepped back into the room, Allison
released Mr. Dixon’s hand and stood.

“Thank you.” Haley Dixon hugged her gratefully.

“Anytime. I mean that,” Allison said. “Please give the children
our regards.”

“I will. Todd will be so happy you were here.”

They said their goodbyes. As they drove to her place, Allison
asked, “Could Sean be wrong about that painting?
Could
there be something wrong with it?”

He glanced at her. “Funny, that’s what Haley was just saying to
me. She’s convinced the painting is evil.”

“What do you think?”

He shrugged. “Looked like a painting to me,” he said. “Sean is
really good at what he does. He would’ve seen any trick in it.”

“But we should examine it again,” she said.

“We will.”

They arrived at her house and got out of the car. She felt
awkward when she let him in; she’d wanted to be alone with him so badly and now
here they were—and she didn’t know what to do.

“I’m going to take a hot shower,” she said. “I got a cold blast
this morning, and then I was at the morgue and…do you mind?”

She turned to look at him. He’d leaned against the door,
watching her.

“Do you mind?” she asked again.

He shook his head.

“You’re welcome to take a shower, too.” The words tumbled from
her lips. She didn’t know whether she sounded serious or facetious.

A slow, rueful smile curved his lips. “With you?”

She gazed back at him. She tried to think of something clever
to say. A charming quip that would make her seem sophisticated and…

Not desperate.

Nothing came to her. Nothing at all.

“Um, that would be great,” she said.

“Pardon?” He stiffened against the door, brows furrowed.

She flinched. She felt gawky and…pathetic.

“I…I’d love it if you took a shower with me,” she managed at
last. “Actually, I’d like a great deal more than a shower with you.”

He left the door, reaching her in a single stride. Then she was
in his arms, and she felt her knees begin to tremble. In fact, her whole body
was trembling; she could hardly remember how it felt to be held like this. He
raised her chin and kissed her, and the pressure of his mouth was instantly
erotic. She reveled in the searing heat of his tongue against her lips, then
teasing its way into her mouth.

She kissed him feverishly in return. She felt something hard
and steely and realized it wasn’t him—it was his gun.

He drew away from her, shrugging out of his jacket, pulling off
his gun clip.

He made a move to pull her into his arms again, but she backed
away and he looked at her, puzzled.

“Shower, please? I’ve…envisioned this moment and I never
thought I’d smell like formaldehyde if and when…”

He smiled. “You’ve envisioned this moment?”

Blushing, she nodded.

“I have, too,” he told her. “What about protection?”

“I’m on the pill.”

He nodded, and she turned to go upstairs. She didn’t hear him
following her and she looked back, but he was only gathering up his jacket and
gun and holster.

She hurried into the bathroom, silently thanking the powers
that be—her bathroom was spotlessly clean. She wondered if that was something
men noticed. Then she forgot about it. She started the hot spray of the shower,
and as she turned, she ended up in his arms. “Your lips don’t smell like any
chemical at all,” he said. “I’m not sure that’s a romantic thing to say,
but…”

She smiled, pressing against him. Their lips touched again and
they began pulling at each other’s clothing, kicking off shoes, skimming off
their jeans.

She’d been right.

He was beautiful naked.

Later, she barely remembered stripping and helping him strip
and stepping into the shower stall. She felt the delicious wet heat of the
water, along with the stroking of his hands. They kissed again under the warm
cascade, and she felt the full length of his body against hers.

Beautiful, and scarred. She knew he’d been a Ranger and he’d
fought, bringing down criminals. And he was still in law enforcement. She didn’t
know what had caused the scars that lay white against the bronze of his flesh.
She traced a white scar line on his lower abdomen and kissed it gently.

“Knife wound. I didn’t move quickly enough against a drug
dealer in San Antonio,” he told her.

“Thank God he didn’t kill you!”

“He’s doing twenty-five to life.”

She looked into his eyes and he grimaced. Her fingers rode over
another scar on his arm, with the steamy water following her touch.

He pulled her to him with a shrug. “Dodged a bullet outside
Houston.”

There was a third scar low on his abdomen. She eased against
his body, feeling his heat and vitality along with the slickness of the steam.
Her fingers traced the clean white line. “This one?”

He grinned, drawing her up. “Appendectomy,” he said, and she
smiled, and they kissed again.

She didn’t think she’d ever been so stirred or felt such hunger
and urgency. She wondered if they would make love in the shower stall.

But they didn’t. Tyler lifted her up, leaving the shower,
wrapped her in one of the bath towels and caressed her body as he dried it. She
shivered at his touch, just savoring the feel, then growing more confident and
pressing against him, forming her mouth to his, feeling the pounding of his
heart and hers as their excitement began to soar. She nearly tripped on the
towel; they both laughed and he swept her into his arms. The feel of his arms
was a promise in itself....

Falling down on the bed, smelling of soap and steam, they began
to make love in earnest. His kisses traveled the length of her, teasing and
intimate, and she lay still, feeling luxurious and then writhing and arching and
returning every touch. When he rose above her and met her eyes and thrust with
excruciating care into her body, she thought she’d explode in that instant, but
he withdrew and began a slow, intense movement, his eyes locked with hers. The
world didn’t seem in the least real, and yet she could feel the softness of the
bed and the cool cotton of the sheets. But most of all she could feel the
strength of his body. Everything that had happened in the past few days
evaporated as sheer sensation seemed to lift her into a realm of ecstasy. She
clung to him as waves of sensation rolled over her, as the climax seized her,
and as she drifted in an aftermath that seemed a little like dying…and coming
back to life.