The Green-Eyed Doll (6 page)

“Don’t.”

Her eyes darkened to hunter green, like an angry ocean right before a storm. No. Not anger. Fear. Her gaze flitted between him and the door. Shit. Was she going to bolt?

She stepped around him and started out of the room. “Maybe we should get the steaks on the grill.”

“Hey.” He touched her arm carefully, gently. “Was that too forward of me?”

“I think so. I’m not sure.”

His mind spun as he followed her to the kitchen. She checked the potatoes while he stacked silverware, plates, and raw steaks on a tray and carried them outside. His backyard had a couple of huge oak trees. One shaded an old wooden picnic table. Catherine wandered over, sat, and then stretched out her legs. The mutt jogged past him, walked over to her, made a couple of circles, and then plopped down, resting his chin on her feet. Matt considered growling.

“If it’s too hot out here for you....”

“No. I wish I had these trees in my backyard.”

He tossed the T-bones on the hot grill. “How do you like your steak?”

“Medium well, please.”

Supper with her was a good idea. Sex would’ve been better. The visceral reaction he had whenever she got close sure screwed with his mind. Her low moan and then rapid pull-back stumped him. Hell. The more he thought about it, the surer he was...he’d scared the crap out of her. She’d sent a message before when she said she always left. Always moved on. She’d warned him not to get serious. He didn’t want serious. He’d done permanent and made a mess of two lives. But scared? Jesus. He’d never forget that look in her eyes.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Want me to bring out the potatoes?”

“Hmm?” He blinked a couple of times. “Not yet.” She’d caught him drifting, just like he’d caught her a few nights ago. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

“I understand. You look bone tired.”

He walked over and squatted in front of her. She smiled and leaned away from him. Damned if he didn’t see a hint of fear. Again.

“Catherine, I’ve never touched a woman and seen raw fear in her eyes. Until today. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. Understand this, no means no to me. I’ll never expect more from you than you’re willing to give. Nothing will happen without your expressed consent.”

She held his gaze for only a second before looking away. “We need to talk.”

“Talking’s good. We can do that while we eat.” Matt rose and stepped over to the grill to flip the steaks. His cell vibrated on his hip. He answered without looking. “Ballard.”

Anger surged through his veins while he listened. Harness it, channel it, and find justice. It was the least he could do for Julia Drummond. He disconnected and turned to Catherine.

“The missing woman’s been found. Dead. I’ve got to go.” His brain raced. How would he get Catherine home? She damn sure couldn’t come with him.

“Of course you do. I’ll take care of the steaks and wait here.”

She’d given him the answer to his problem. His heart popped him in the ribs. “You sure? I may be gone a while.”

“I’m sure. Go.”

Matt hit the house in a dead run. He grabbed his gun, hat, and keys, and then raced back to the yard. She was taking the steaks off the grill. “Catherine, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Might be a while.”

She hurried to him, compassion written on her face. He leaned down, rested his forehead on hers for a moment before he hurried to his pickup. He glanced back at her standing in his driveway, and it hit him. She hadn’t pulled away from him.

“Be safe,” she called out.

He flipped on the siren, hit the lights, and raced down the highway. The faces of innocent victims who’d been murdered on his watch still haunted him. He’d left homicide years ago but remembered every case.
Don’t take it personal
, the chief had pounded in his head. The hell with that. Murder was personal. This was more personal than ever. The people in Crest County looked to him to keep them safe. And he’d failed Julia Drummond.

He punched in Jake Foley’s home number. His wife answered. “Rose Ann, Matt Ballard. Sorry, but I have to speak to Jake.”

“I’ll get him,” she said.

Jake’s familiar voice came on the line a few seconds later.

“This can’t be good.” Jake blew out a sigh. “Somebody found the Drummond woman.”

“Yeah. Truck driver spotted her propped up in front of the old Culver cutoff sign on Highway 283.”

“Damn,” Jake whispered. “I’m on my way.”

Jake Foley had been a deputy in Crest County for eighteen years. In his late forties, with two teenage boys, Jake’s fair-mindedness had earned a lot of people’s respect, including Matt’s. Jake had been clear from the git-go, he didn’t want the sheriff’s job. More than once, he’d refused to run for office. Honorable and trustworthy, Matt respected Jake the way a son respected his father. Well, not
his
father. He’d spent his life lying to Matt’s mother.

****

Monday, July 31st, 8:00 p.m.

En route, Matt called the Medical Examiner. Dr. Reinhardt’s reputation ranked with the best, and Julia Drummond deserved the best. Matt and his team would take pictures and secure the crime scene while waiting for the official forensic team to arrive from San Antonio.

Onlookers lined the stretch of well-traveled interstate. Murder in a small county brought people out of the woodwork. Rey had already established crowd control to prevent them from trampling evidence into oblivion. Matt insisted the two reporters who ran to meet him stay back with the spectators. Then he pissed off the local TV reporter and her cameraman by refusing to stop and talk.

Matt adjusted the badge clipped to his belt and then pushed his way through. “Where is she?”

Rey led the way around the eighteen-wheeler to the body. Matt stopped at the yellow tape and slowly scanned the area. The intersection had a speed limit sign mounted on a steel post on the south corner. At the base was a body with a green plastic sheet over her. Only bare feet were visible.

“Who covered her?”

“I did,” Rey said, looking older than his twenty-six years. “I’ve worked shootings and bloody wrecks, seen about everything, but this is sick. This is twisted.”

Rey slipped shoe covers over his boots. He signed the cross before he dipped under the tape. Then he carefully stepped over and uncovered Julia’s body. Matt sucked in a breath. Rey had called it. This was sick.

Propped into a sitting position, arms hanging limp at her sides with legs crossed at the ankles, Julia was naked except for a red ribbon tied around her neck in a bow. Some kind of pale makeup covered her face, and her lips were bright red. Her raw wrists and ankles showed signs of restraint. Matt squatted and sat back on his boot heels. He looked toward the heavens before returning his gaze to her. She stared back at him, a blank nothingness behind wide-open emerald green eyes.

“Something’s odd about her eyelids,” he said to himself more than anyone. He stood and turned to Rey. “Cover her back up.”

“You ever see anything like this?” Rey laid the sheet over the body, taking great pains not to disturb evidence.

“No. And I’ll be sitting across the glass when the state puts a needle in this bastard’s arm.” Matt waited for Rey to back away, noting he was careful not to disturb the surroundings. “She couldn’t have been out here long, not in this heat.”

“Forensic team’s finally here.” Rey nodded his head toward the road.

Anger swelled up inside. “Good. Doesn’t mean we stop filming, taking pictures, or gathering evidence. We’ll give them everything we find, but we’ll need copies.”

Matt pushed a finger to his temple trying to ward off a headache. “Where the hell did all these people come from? Half the county is here. Vultures stretching their necks to get a look.”

Rey glanced at the crowd and at the horizon. “Sun will set soon. Maybe then the morbid bastards will go home.”

“Where’s the guy who found her?”

“Sitting in my cruiser. Carl’s with him.”

“I’ll talk to him. We need to know more about him.”

“He’s already radioed his dispatcher, told them he’d be late with his load.”

The ambulance arrived, followed by the medical examiner’s county car. “Let’s get Ms. Drummond out of here with a little dignity. Rey, stay with the body. Make sure none of the onlookers sneak across the road.”

“Consider it done.”

Jake wrote furiously in his notebook, none of those modern gadgets for him. His hand raced across the paper then stopped abruptly. He adjusted his hat. “How do you tell her parents?”

“There’s no easy way. The collateral damage to everyone involved changes people forever.” Matt understood Jake’s reaction. He’d probably never seen anything like Julia Drummond. “I’ll stop by and tell her parents when I leave here.”

“I don’t envy you.” Jake straightened his shoulders, his hazel eyes clouded with concern.

“Talk to the folks across the street. See if any of them knew Julia? If anybody says yes, get a statement.” Matt shook his head in disgust. “Then we’ll chase every damn one of them away.”

Matt introduced himself to William—Willie, the truck driver—Phelps. He made this run from the manufacturing plant in Michigan to the warehouse where he delivered washers and dryers once a month. Matt jotted down his information, and then passed it to Sue for a background check. Matt followed protocol but didn’t make the truck driver for the killer.

Doctor Kurt Reinhardt stood by the gurney. He looked up over the top of his glasses when Matt joined him.

“Occasionally, I think I’ve seen the worst of the human race and the things people do to each other.” The ME sighed before he continued. “Someone always proves me wrong.”

Matt refrained from sharing his thoughts. His gut coiled into a knot. “What else are you thinking?”

“There are blood blisters on the inside of her eyelids. Best guess, COD was strangulation. She also has irregular welts on her back and legs plus bruising around her neck.” The ME moved a step closer and lowered his voice. “Sheriff, her eyelids were glued open.”

Matt scrubbed his hand over his face. “I suspected as much.”

“This woman went missing this past Thursday?”

Matt’s stomach rolled over. “Yes, around six in the evening.”

“At first blush, I’d say she’s been dead over twenty-four hours.”

“In this heat, she’s been somewhere out of the elements. Where the hell has she been all this time?” Matt removed his hat and mopped the sweat off his forehead.

“Good question. I’m sure you’ll find the answer, my boy. I’ll rearrange my schedule and perform the autopsy myself tomorrow morning at nine. Will you attend?”

“I’ll be there.” The temperature had to be over a hundred in the shade, but a chill settled in Matt’s bones. He had a vicious son-of-a-bitch loose in his county. One he had to stop. Soon.

He finished up with the truck driver and sent him on his way. After the ME had arrived, things happened quickly. Julia’s body was whisked away. The crowd became disinterested and slunk off into the night. Jake and Rey would stay with the county forensic investigators while they searched for anything his deputies might’ve missed. Matt made the drive back to Curry. To Julia’s parents.

****

Monday, July 31st, midnight

Matt stayed until Mr. and Mrs. Drummond had calmed down enough to face their heartbreak alone. To look a mother and father in the eye and tell them their only daughter wouldn’t be coming home was something no cop wanted to do. Mrs. Drummond, her eyes already swollen and rimmed in red, had broken down and sobbed. Matt left them clinging to each other and headed home.

For the first time since driving away from his house, he remembered he’d stranded Catherine. A picture of her and the traitorous dog curled up asleep on his couch flashed through his mind. The brief vision was a relief. He’d seen his share of ugly today.

The weight of the murder set his temples to pounding. A vice squeezed his skull. Stress induced, the shrink had said. Try death induced. Turmoil, danger, and murder did the trick every time. Trouble had followed him to the country, and trouble was exactly why he’d left Houston.

Trouble had followed Ms. Drummond, too. Trouble had murdered and painted her up like a doll. Recognition hit him. Son-of-a-bitch. Julia looked like a doll.

This nightmare was only beginning.

His house was dark, and the dog was asleep on the porch. Matt tried the door and the knob turned easily. Why hadn’t she locked up after he left to go to the crime scene? He flipped on the kitchen stove light and walked lightly through the house. His heart jumped to the back of his throat and blood sped through his veins. Where was Catherine? A note on the counter next to the coffee pot explained. She’d called Marty. A wave of relief washed over him while he read. His steak was in the fridge, the potato had been delicious, and Catherine was sorry she couldn’t wait. She started her new job tomorrow and didn’t want to be late.

“She’s sorry. I forget, and she apologizes.” Matt was starving, but his head hurt too damn bad to eat. He collapsed in his easy chair and waited for the pain to ease.

****

Tuesday, August 1st, 7:00 a.m.

The closet was smaller than he remembered, and his little corner was full of musty old boxes. He tossed them out onto the bedroom floor and crawled inside, pulling the door closed behind him. If he scrunched down, could he see the shelf through the narrow crack? Yes! A strange shot of excitement surged through his system. The sensation confused him because he’d hated being hemmed in. How many times had he hunkered down, staring out at the doll? Her green eyes a beacon, an anchor, proof he wasn’t alone.

He shoved the closet door open and got out. He’d better stop wasting time. Today was his day to lock up at work, and once everybody had gone home, he’d weld the hasp onto the chain he’d bought. Thanks to the size of the small trailer house, he could bolt it to the frame of the bed. His next doll would wear a tether, one that allowed her to move from the bedroom to the bathroom. There’d be no more messes to clean up.

Hell, he’d dumped the old doll yesterday. Already, he ached for a new one. He whacked his leg with the hanger. An old familiar pain zinged straight to his groin. He stretched out across the bed, unzipped his jeans, and freed himself. The cool air sent his cock throbbing. His eyes closed. He was rock hard. The hanger came down with more force, again and again. He relived every minute he’d spent with his doll while his hand moved faster and faster. Too soon, he spent himself.