Sole Witness (18 page)

“Listen to me. You’re in danger as long as I’m here.
Everyone around me is in danger.”

“That’s not true.” Davis removed the towel from his
waist in order to dry his hair.

Lori tried not to stare.

“Come on. Why am I here in the first place? Not
because you’ve been pining to rekindle our relationship. I’m here because of
Tommy Turner. Because of Kimberley. Because some whack-job is trying to gun me
down. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

Davis waved one arm. “So what are you saying? You
should run off by yourself? Cruise into the sunset with your big pink Mustang
and a tank of gas? How long do you think you’d last before she found you?”

“At least nobody else would have to die,” Lori
muttered. She’d barely finished the sentence before Davis loomed over her,
squeezing her wrists in a viselike grip.

“Never—I mean
never—
talk like that. Ever
again.” His intense stare seemed to bore into her soul.

“I’m just saying I more or less dragged you down
with me.”

His hands shook around her wrists before he abruptly
dropped her arms and stalked back to the doorway to retrieve his towel and tie
it back around his hips. “You didn’t drag me anywhere. I’m a cop, in case you
hadn’t noticed.”

“I did notice. You’re a cop, not a babysitter. And
hopefully not a target.”

“Lori, the only person who did any dragging was the
killer. That’s who got us all into this mess. I’m not going to have you feeling
guilty for something you have no control over.”

“How am I not supposed to feel guilty?” Lori cried
out, throwing up her hands. “People are dead! My best friend was killed in
my
bed
. This has got to stop, any way it can.”

“So, what’s your big idea?” Davis asked in a tone
that implied he was ready to kibosh anything she suggested.

“The killer wants me dead, right? So give me to her.
Set a trap.”

Davis shook his head. “Dangle you in front of an
armed lunatic? You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way I’m using you as bait.”

“You want to catch her, right? Before more people
get hurt?”

He stared at her for a moment without responding,
emotion twitching across his face. “You know I do. I want to stop her. I need
to stop her. And I will stop her. But I can’t risk you to do so. I just can’t.”

Lori opened her mouth to speak, but Davis held up
his palm in warning.

“Don’t ask again. I don’t want to hear it. I
actually came in here to tell you that you don’t have to sleep naked anymore if
you don’t want to. Feel free to borrow my shirts or anything that you want.
Nightclothes didn’t even cross my mind when I was at your house packing that
bag. I could barely handle the pressure of keeping a clean mind while I picked
out panties.”

He focused on the wall above her head. Lori sighed.
He was obviously struggling to change the subject. Fine.

“I do have a pajama drawer,” she admitted. “Not in
the closet. Once you go in, it’s on your left, third drawer down.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? Yes, it is. What did you do,
rearrange my laundry?”

A smile cracked his stony exterior and he finally
met her eyes. “Don’t be silly. Men don’t do laundry.”

She stuck out her tongue.

“What I meant is, I can’t go back to your house.
It’s too dangerous. Although we’ve got officers driving by every half an hour,
we don’t have the budget for a full-time stakeout. If the perp is watching your
house, I can’t take the chance of leading her straight to you.”

Lori swallowed.

“I’m sorry,” Davis said, sincerity in his eyes, “but
I don’t want to run the risk of advertising your location. To anyone. Not the
killer, not my department. It’s going to have to be t-shirts until the perp’s
locked up where she belongs.”

“Okay.” Lori nodded.

“And that’s another thing. You’re famous.”

“I am not.”

“Now’s not the time to be humble. This is where you
grew up. Even if you were only famous to a few people, you’d still be famous
here. And get real—your face has been plastered on billboards nationwide.”

“That was over a year ago.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t changed that
much, Blondie. Half the guys at the station have your Swimsuit Edition taped
inside their lockers.”

“Davis, that’s just creepy.”

“Give me a break. You know men don’t read magazines
for the articles.”

Lori crossed her arms.

“Don’t be bullheaded about this, woman. I’m serious.
If somebody recognizes you, word will travel fast, whether you believe that or
not. Way too risky. You can’t leave the house unless I’m with you.”

 
“Are you going out to breakfast,
then? I’ll come with you. I’m hungry.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Maybe tomorrow,
once this is all behind us. This morning I’ve got to go catch me a killer.
You’ll have to make do with Coco Puffs.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Davis didn’t change expression.

“Come on. You don’t still eat Coco Puffs, do you?”

He shrugged one tan shoulder. With a smirk, he
turned to his dresser and began pulling on clothes. The man was just as sexy
and infuriating now as he was a decade ago.

“Oh.” Davis turned back toward her as he tucked in
his button-down shirt. “And stay off the phone in case I try to call you. I
don’t have call waiting.”

“You’re a dinosaur.”

“So, no phone calls unless they’re either from me or
to me. Got it? If I call and get the busy signal, I’m going to assume the
worst. And if I get here, sirens blaring with the SWAT team behind me, and
you’re chatting with your fan club, I’m going to be really, really mad.”

“First, I don’t have a fan club. Secondly, you’ve
turned into a very suspicious man.”

“I’m a cop. I’m supposed to be suspicious. A lot of
bad people do a lot of bad things for a lot of bad reasons. If keeping you
inside and off the phone saves your life, then that’s a sacrifice we’ll have to
make.”

“I won’t touch your phone, Mr. Sacrifice. Don’t
worry.”

Davis tilted his head to one side. “If all goes
well, you could be back in your own place by tonight. Forensics is done with
your house. As soon as we get the perp in custody, you’re home free.”

Tonight. No more Davis. Home free.

“Yeah,” she managed.

He glanced at his watch. “I have to get going. I’m
already late.”

Davis stood and looked at her for a long moment
without moving. Lori had the feeling that if she gave the slightest indication
of encouragement, he’d haul her to his chest and give her a good-bye kiss she’d
never forget.

Lori just wasn’t sure that was the best idea, for
either of them.

Before she had a chance to figure out what she
really wanted, the moment was gone. Davis tossed her a too-cheery grin and
walked out of the bedroom, leaving her to her own thoughts. A moment later, his
engine gunned to life below and he was gone.

She was alone. Isolated in this tiny house atop
stilts. Stifled.

Sighing, she picked herself up out of the bed and
stumbled to the shower. The steamy water didn’t help to clear her thoughts.

Davis was putting himself and his career on the line
by keeping her here, covering her up. She wished he didn’t have to do that, but
the truth was that a killer wanted to cover her up permanently. With six feet
of dirt.

Lori rinsed the shampoo from her hair and squinted
around the tub. No conditioner. Typical man.

His house felt lonely without him in it.

She felt stranded. Abandoned. Helpless. And without
a car, she was physically stuck here. How did her life get like this? Somehow,
she must’ve gone down the wrong road, her once-bright future now tangled and
bleak. She shut off the water and toweled dry, then hunted for her army bag in
search of clothes. 

Her mother was probably worried sick about her.

Lori snorted at her own foolishness. Who was she
kidding? Mama didn’t give a fig what happened to her. Nonetheless, that didn’t
mean she shouldn’t be responsible and let her know she was all right. She
glanced at the phone by the bed. No calls, he’d said. Fine.

If the Lord had wanted humans to use landlines, he
wouldn’t have invented cell phones.

Too bad Davis hadn’t packed her charger. Only two
bars of power remained. Even worse was the message flashing across the center
of the screen. No service available.

Stupid beach.

Bet if she walked a little ways inland she could get
a better signal. Lori’s eyes widened. That’s right, she didn’t need a car to
walk. She wasn’t trapped here after all, perched in this towering monstrosity
of picture windows.

Then again, he hadn’t left her a key. She wasn’t so
irresponsible as to leave his house unlocked even for a brief moment. Was she?

He meant for her to feel protected in his house, but
instead she felt exposed. Open. Vulnerable. Not to the killer—to the view from
the windows.

With every ripple of the ocean, she imagined the
house swaying with the waves and toppling into the tide.

Lori peeked out the glass and gulped.

She could almost feel the house swaying. No way
could she stay inside all day, just waiting for a strong breeze to knock over
the stilts and plunge her, walls and all, into the salty water.

Clearly, if she stayed here, she’d lose her mind.

Davis’s whole point was for her to stay clear of
people, right? She could do that. Just walk far enough away to get a decent
cell signal. Just for a few minutes.

Lori strapped her cell phone to her waistband and
headed to the kitchen to check the cupboards. Davis wasn’t kidding about the
Coco Puffs. Three boxes, two of them open. Men.

Next, she opened the refrigerator.

Half a gallon of milk. A six-pack of Heineken, one
missing. A carton of cage-free eggs. Loaf of wheat bread. He kept bread in the
refrigerator? No matter. When she got back she’d make French toast. That would
tide her over for a while.

Lori paused for a moment at the door leading
outside. This was it.

Davis would kill her if he knew, even though she’d
be gone less than five minutes. Plus, she might kill herself trying to get down
those ridiculous stairs.

She took a fortifying breath and opened the door.
The salty breeze enveloped her.

Eyes tightly closed, Lori counted backwards from
thirteen until her feet reached the hot sand. Looking up, she smiled in
triumph. She did it. Escape, if only for a moment.

A glance at her phone told her she still had no
signal. Well, should she try to the right or the left? Both directions seemed
desolate and sparse, a few stork-like houses dotting the beach.

The drawbridge curved back toward the direction they
had first come.

Since she definitely wasn’t walking around for
miles, Lori headed off the other way.

The road curved ahead. The new vista displayed a few
more houses, a small café, and a convenience store. A poster in the café’s
window declared “Lunch. Dinner. $5 Pitchers.” The neon Open sign was unlit.

She checked her watch. Ten fifty-five. Not lunchtime
yet.

Lori eyed the convenience store. She’d love to go
in, but she’d better not. Davis would kill her. But on the outside, various
vending machines lined the front of the store.

Ice. Three newspapers. Isla Concha ATM.

In seconds, Lori had her purse open and counted her
cash. She had eighty dollars. And she was living—temporarily—with Davis. She
was probably good for now.

But what about her bills?

Most payments debited automatically from her
checking account. What if she didn’t have enough in there? Who knew how long
she’d be hidden away from home.

She ought to transfer some money from her savings to
her checking. Just to be safe. Nobody would see her do it because she wouldn’t
go inside the store.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Mind made up, Lori jogged across the street to the
ATM. The brief exercise felt great. She missed her morning run. Maybe tomorrow
she could jog along the beach.

She slipped her bankcard into the machine and
punched in her PIN.

Transferring money from one account to the other
only took a few seconds, but she felt better about her finances already.
Besides, now she could use her debit card everywhere she went without worrying
about her balance.

She turned from the machine just in time to see the
café’s Open sign light up. Lori’s stomach grumbled. Maybe she ought to get some
takeout. She’d better not leave the house again and who knew what time Davis
would get home.

Fifteen minutes later, Lori was halfway back to the
beach house with a bag of hot food teasing her nostrils and her belly when she
remembered her cell phone. She fumbled for it and peered at the screen.