Whisper of Revenge (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 4) (5 page)

In the two years since, Daniel had come to value his one
experienced, reliable officer.  He understood that Abbot liked his job and did
it well.  He didn’t want to hunt murderers or rapists.  Community policing
suited him.

He knew damn near everyone in town.  He could watch
surveillance video and recognize a local teenager seen in a fleeting glimpse
from behind.  All he had to do was hear a voice to know who was talking.  When
shit happened, his presence comforted folks who’d known him, his wife and kids
for years.  And damned if he didn’t rival Ellie Fitzgerald with his memory.

Now he said, “Hope you didn’t need anything urgent.  When
you weren’t here this morning, I figured I should get out on patrol.”

“I assumed you would.  Something came up.”  Daniel leaned
against the back fender and told him about the secret admirer, this morning’s
events, and what Ellie had told him about the Dressler woman’s sad saga.

Abbot nodded at that.  “I remember her.  Husband was a nice
fellow.  She was torn up bad after he dropped dead that way.  Those presents
started coming when she was still shaky.”

Fragile, Daniel thought.  Easy to shatter.

“Ellie know about the other one?” Abbot asked.

“She didn’t say anything about another woman.”

A patrol car turned into the small lot, enclosed by a
chainlink fence, and both men watched as another member of the department parked. 
Tony Diaz was one of Daniel’s youngest officers, but to his mild surprise was
acquiring some seasoning.  Tony greeted them, hesitated as if he’d like to be
included in their discussion, but got the message and went into the station to
sign out.

“Trying to remember her name.”  Grissom frowned, pondering. 
Then his face cleared.  “Stanford.  It made me think of the college.  Beth
Stanford.  Worked in the front office of a pest control company.  Sticks in my
mind because I remember thinking there’s more than one kind of pest.”

Daniel had thought of Hannah’s secret admirer as a pest,
too, until this morning.  He wasn’t looking forward to finding out what
happened to Beth Stanford.

“This wasn’t like with Lori.  I think at first Beth was kind
of flattered.”  Abbot gazed toward the red brick police station, but his
expression suggested he was seeing something else.  “Didn’t contact us until
the guy started to get pissed.  It was strange, because he never identified
himself.  She was supposed to know who he was by some kind of osmosis.  Seemed
like she’d failed her test.”

“How did she know he was mad?”  Daniel heard the growl in
his voice.  Any woman could have been targeted, including Sophie.

“He left her a bouquet that was pretty enough, but a friend
of hers was a gardener and recognized the monkshood.  There was this lacy white
flower, too, and some fern.  The friend researched and said it was bracken fern
and she thought the pretty white flower was water hemlock.”

“I seem to remember that bracken fern kills cattle
and…horses, maybe.”

Abbot nodded.  “This friend said the water hemlock is the
most poisonous plant of all.”

“Pretty clear message,” Daniel said thoughtfully.

“Yeah.  Scared her to death.”  He flushed.  “Bad choice of
words.”

“I don’t know.  I’d say Lori Dressler was scared to death.” 
Unless she’d been murdered, of course.

Abbot grimaced.  “Guess that’s true.  Anyway, Ms. Stanford
had a fire not long after.  It was spotted quick and the damage to her house
limited, but no question it was arson.  She’d had enough.  She packed and left
town within a day or two.  If she told anyone in the department where she was
going, I didn’t hear.”

“Smart woman.”

“That’s what I thought.  ’Course, there’s no saying he
didn’t track her down.  We’d have never heard.”

The cold truth of that all too realistic possibility felt
like a vise tightening on Daniel’s skull.  “Hannah Moss’s secret admirer is
getting pissed.”

Abbot’s eyes met his.  “She hasn’t passed his test.”

“She’s done something even worse.  Anybody watching her just
might think she’s getting involved with another man.”

“Is she?”

“Can’t be sure.”  Daniel pushed away from the squad car. 
“Hard to read Burton.  But, yeah, there’s something there.”

Looking troubled, Abbot walked with him the short distance
to the back door.  “Beth was a redhead, too.”

One more piece to confirm that she’d been stalked by the
same man who was now angry at Hannah.

Before going in, Abbot stopped.  “Elias Burton…not sure
that’s smart.  Hannah’s too nice a lady for him.”

For once, he refused to elaborate.  Daniel didn’t love
adding another layer of disquiet atop the foundation he was already building. 
Following his officer in, he debated the wisdom of asking around about Burton,
the town’s most famous son.  He felt enough distaste at the idea, he rejected
it.  Until he had reason to distrust Elias, he’d let the guy keep his secrets.

*****

The café table was too small.  She’d never noticed before,
but having Elias sitting across from her made the difference.  His knees
brushed hers; their feet bumped.  Dark gold stubble glinted on his strong jaw
even though he’d likely shaved only hours earlier.  Somehow it accentuated the
hollows beneath his cheekbones.  And the intensity in his pale eyes made it
impossible to look away.

“So the bastard had to have a key.”  Elias wasn’t trying to
hide his simmering temper, and Hannah couldn’t blame him for being mad.  He
wouldn’t have been targeted at all if not for her.  As soon as he had showed
up, she had offered to pay for the tires, which had earned her an icy stare and
a curt, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yes,” she said in answer to his question now.  “I can’t
imagine how, but…  A locksmith is coming this afternoon.  The camera is being
installed in back today, too.”

Elias shook his head.  “He’ll hit you at home next, or
someplace else you go regularly.”

And where would that be?  The daycare center?  Or what if
something happened to Edna, just because she was Hannah’s friend?

“Food is coming,” Elias said quietly.

If he hadn’t pressed her, Hannah would have skipped lunch. 
To hide her perturbation, she pretended delight at the smell of the spicy
lentil soup the waitress set in front of her.  Chances were, Anita saw right
through her.

With the Sea Watch Café being less than a block from Sweet
Ideas, Hannah ate here often enough to have gotten to know Anita Barnes, whose
husband was her insurance agent.  The food was wonderful, even though Naomi
Kendrick, the amazing chef who had opened the café, was still in California,
living under protection as she waited to testify in two major trials. 
Apparently, she’d been unlucky enough to hear when a U.S. congressman hired a
hitman to kill his opponent for office.

Elias’s gaze had, if possible, sharpened.  “What are you
thinking about?”

He had showed up about lunchtime, too late to inspect the
book, carried away by Daniel in an evidence bag.  He had obviously seen how
scared she was beneath the façade she’d assumed for the benefit of Alice and
her customers.  He’d hustled her out the door before she could marshal any arguments.

“I wish Naomi was still here.”  Hannah knew she shouldn’t
keep laying herself open to this man, but how could she resist when he offered
himself up?  So she let herself finish.  “She knows what it’s like to always be
looking over your shoulder.”

His jaw muscles spasmed.  To her shock, he reached across
the small table and took her hand in a warm, secure grip.  He had to know the
other diners in the small café were already watching them.  She hadn’t heard of
any other woman linked to him since she’d moved to Cape Trouble, and heaven
knows she didn’t date.  Just appearing together in a restaurant was enough to
spark gossip.  Holding hands in public?  That gossip would go viral.  Of
course, Elias so rarely appeared in town, he might not care whether people
talked about him or not.

Except…his appearances hadn’t been all that rare recently. 
She could ask herself why a million times and not believe the obvious answer.

“We’ll figure out who this bastard is,” he said in a low
growl.  “He’s not a ghost.”

“He’s doing a good imitation of one.”  She hated to say
this, but had to.  “He must have seen us together in the alley.  That’s the
only explanation I can think of.”

“There wasn’t anything to see.  I was protecting you, that’s
all.”

It wasn’t all.  There’d been that one moment, after he
kissed her cheek, when he bent his head again.  When his warmth wrapped around her
and she thought…  But she might have imagined it.

“Elias.”  Taking her hand from his required enormous
fortitude, but she found it.  She held his gaze.  “I appreciate this.  I mean,
you coming when I called, and lunch, and…” 
Holding my hand.
  “But I
think you should stay away for now.  You’re…”  She hesitated.

“Making matters worse?”

His suddenly distant tone stung.  “I was going to say,
you’re annoying him.”

“So you plan to tell him you’re sorry and won’t do it
again?”  His voice sliced her raw emotions.

“No!”  Hannah glared at him.  “It’s just common sense!”

His cool gaze goaded her.

“He went after you.  It’s not fair.  We’re not even…you
know.”  She had to look away, knowing her cheeks probably glowed.  “You’re a
customer, and you’re stuck trying to take care of me.  You shouldn’t have to—”

His eyes darkened, she’d swear they did.  “Is that all I am,
Hannah?” he asked.  “Did you really think I needed chocolate and coffee five
days a week?”

Stunned, she stared at that too-beautiful face, all angles
and shadows.  He hadn’t just said what she thought she’d heard.  It wasn’t
possible.  Her mouth opened, closed.

He hadn’t moved a muscle, but somehow still vibrated with
tension waiting for her answer.  As if it mattered?

“I…didn’t know.”  She wasn’t quite whispering, but close. 
“I mean, sometimes I thought, but…you didn’t say anything.”

“I was—”  Elias gave his head a quick, hard shake,
repudiating whatever he’d been about to say.  “Feeling my way,” he said
finally, and she knew that wasn’t what he’d first thought.

“So…you’re not here just out of a sense of obligation.” 
Like he’d admit that.

“No.”

What was she supposed to say now?  She looked down at her
untouched soup.  Was he implying that this was a date?

“Okay,” she mumbled.

One of his eyebrows tilted a little higher than the other. 
“Will you have dinner with me, Hannah?  If not tonight, tomorrow?”

She stared at him in amazement.  Elias Burton had just asked
her out.  Carrot-haired, freckled Hannah Moss.  More bizarrely yet, he sounded
uncertain of her answer.  Where she would have expected arrogance, she was
finding lowered guards.  He was giving her a chance to hurt him.  This wasn’t
like the occasional, casual invitation from one of her male customers, easily
turned down with a joke.  Maybe Elias had become so accustomed to being alone,
he didn’t often reach out.

Her knees, heart and more turned to goo.  “Yes.”  It came
out as a squeak.  Fire lit her cheeks again.  “Yes, I’d like that.”

His relaxation was so subtle, she wouldn’t have noticed if
she hadn’t already suspected his stillness meant tension.  “Good.”  His voice
was huskier than usual.  “When?”

“Um…what about tomorrow night?  I need to make some
arrangement for Ian.”

“Deal.”  He flicked a glance toward the other diners, most
probably straining to hear for all they were worth.  “I suggest we go somewhere
besides Cape Trouble.”

“Please.”

Her burst of fervency obviously amused him, but he nodded
toward her lunch.  “You need to eat.”

The soup was probably cold, but her appetite had leaped back
to life.  No surprise there, she thought ruefully – it rarely took a break.

She picked up her spoon.

Elias Burton asked me out.
  She remembered something her
mother always said that fit to a T.  Would wonders never cease.

Mid-morning the next day, Elias drove into town to meet his
mother for an appointment to sign papers giving him equal access to her new
money market account.  Since her ‘health scare’ – her words for breast cancer –
she’d taken steps to ensure he would be able to take immediate control of her
finances if she became disabled or died.  Not something he wanted to think
about, but for her peace of mind he had been acceding to her wishes.  He
comforted himself every time he saw her with how remarkably healthy she looked.

They were unmistakably mother and son.  His father had had
brown hair and blue eyes.  Elias’s unusually light gray eyes had come from his
mother, as had the blond hair.  Hers had never darkened, although the lack of
gray strands made him suspect the color was getting a boost these days.

Tall and willowy, she stood beside him in the parking lot
after they had emerged from the bank.  Both ignored passing traffic on the
street.  “Thank you for coming.  I’d ask you to join me for lunch, but I have
plans.”

“Plans?”

She gave him a reproving look.  “Not that kind, for heaven’s
sake.”

“Why not?” he asked.  “Are the men in this town all stupid?”

“The good ones are taken.”  In the way of mothers, she
turned the tables on him.  “You’re not so young yourself, you know.  Most of
the good women your age are taken, too.”

He laughed, a picture of Hannah’s face appearing unbidden. 
He kissed his mother’s cheek and murmured in her ear, “Who says I want a good
one?”

She huffed, but then, to his surprise, hugged him fiercely. 
He’d never doubted her love, but she wasn’t physically demonstrative.  When she
let him go, she said, “I worry about you.”

Elias didn’t ask her why; he knew.  She was his only
family.  Once she was gone, he’d be entirely alone.  He’d never meant to end up
this way, but he didn’t seem to have what it took to make a woman believe in
him.  To make her happy.  Which begged the question – why was he being stupid
enough to take one more chance?

His mother studied him with narrowed eyes.  “What’s that
expression mean?”

He hesitated, but knew gossip would find its way to her.  “I
have a date tonight.”

Her eyebrows rose.  “With?”

“Hannah Moss.  She owns—”

“I know who Hannah is,” she interrupted.  “I like her a
great deal.  I admit to being surprised, though.  She isn’t your usual type.”

“Am I that predictable?”  Yeah, he was, and knew it, which
was why this attraction to Hannah had blindsided him.  But once he’d started
imagining her naked, his hands all over her lavish body, the women who once
would have attracted him seemed to be leaving him cold.

“Yes, but I think this is a good thing.”  Obviously pleased,
his mother kissed his cheek again and got into her car.  “Call me,” she said,
and backed out.

He should go home and get some work done…but the urge for a
cup of coffee and one of Hannah’s smiles was too powerful.

*****

She gave him the smile accompanied by a blush, but they
barely exchanged a couple of words before she turned her smile to the next
person in line, Arthur Escott.  Hannah wasn’t alone – her usual assistant,
Alice Roberts, a perky young woman with spiky hair currently dyed blue, was
behind the counter as well.  But the two were having to hustle to keep up with
a major jump in business.  Mostly locals, he noticed, likely drawn by all the
talk.

Elias had the surprised thought that, while he vaguely
recognized which people were locals, he didn’t know many of them well.  Having
grown up in Cape Trouble, there’d been a time he would have.  But while he
hadn’t been paying attention, families had moved away and newcomers arrived. 
Out of this crowd, he spotted only a couple people he’d gone to school with:
Caitlin Murrin nee Bryson, once a homecoming princess, and John Donnelson, an
offensive lineman who had protected Elias as quarterback the last two years of
high school.  The two of them still played touch football in a casual, muddy
fall tradition.  Even that group, it occurred to him, while still including a
number of his teammates, had over the years incorporated newcomers.

Elias shook his head in faint amusement as he greeted
Donnelson.  Man, back in the time they’d thought they were something, even
though the size of the school mean they competed in the 4A bracket, not exactly
the top of the heap.  A couple of the guys had been so damn sure scouts were in
the stands, when there’d never been a chance.

He might have taken a minute to talk to Donnelson, except
the guy had two kids hanging on him.  The little girl was chanting, “Please,
please, please,” like a metronome, her eyes fixed on her daddy’s.  The boy,
maybe four or five, had
his
eyes fixed on the fudge.  Elias could see
the poor sucker going down for the count.

Something bumped his back and, startled, he turned his head.

“Sorry,” Ron Campbell said.  “These tables are squeezed too
close together.”  He pulled out a chair at a neighboring table and sank down
with his coffee and a small plate holding fudge.  “Don’t know why she bothers
with the books, when this is where her business is,” he grumbled.

Unsurprised by Campbell’s priorities, Elias wasn’t even sure
what he said in reply.  Fortunately, Campbell immediately presented Elias with
his back.  The antipathy was definitely mutual.

Sipping his coffee, Elias hovered even though there wasn’t a
chance of Hannah breaking away.  He felt foolish, lingering like this when he’d
be seeing her tonight anyway.  About to leave, he let curiousity make him
pause.  Even as she waited on customers in here, she was keeping a close eye on
someone in the bookstore.  A suspected shoplifter?

Elias took a few steps to see what she did, and felt a
jolt.  Her boy sat at the low table in the kids’ section, coloring or
scribbling.  She usually brought him with her only on weekends.  Elias rarely
stopped by on Saturdays and Sundays.  With increased tourist business, she’d be
too busy for him, he’d told himself, but now realized there was another
component.  He knew nothing about kids.  The fact that she had one made him
uncomfortable.

Now, looking at the bent head the same color as hers, he
faced an unalterable truth.  If he got involved with her, he
couldn’t
entirely avoid her son.

So he dropped his almost empty cup in the trash and strolled
into the bookstore, aware of glances from a couple of browsers.  When he got
close enough, the boy heard him coming and looked up.  Hannah must drill him on
manners, because he immediately offered a polite, “Hello, Mr. Burton.”

“Hi, Ian.  Got stuck coming to work with your mom today, did
you?”  He hoped that didn’t sound as inane to the kid as it did to him.

But the boy’s forehead wrinkled.  “Mom made me come ’cuz
Mrs. Voight told all the parents Dustin and Polly and Natalie have lice.  Mom
had to spend ages checking my hair this morning.  She says I don’t have any,
and I’m not going back to school ’til it’s safe.”  He tipped his head to one
side, eyes a darker brown than his mother’s studying Elias.  “Did you ever have
lice?”

He laughed, pulled out one of the child-size chairs, and
lowered himself gingerly onto it.  “Yeah, actually I did.  A couple times. 
Once when I wasn’t much older than you.  The stuff they put in your hair to
kill the lice didn’t work very well, and Mom had to do it over and over.  She
got pretty grumpy.”

Ian giggled.

“Then I got them again later, when I was playing youth
football.  We traded helmets around.  I guess that’s how we shared bugs.  That
time my mother shaved my head.  I barely had a stubble left.”  He ran a hand
over his hair, remembering how naked he’d felt.  “Did the trick, though.”

The little boy rolled his eyes upward, as if trying to see
his own head.  “My hair isn’t very long.  Maybe that’s why I didn’t get lice.” 
His tone suggested he wasn’t altogether sure what lice were and was almost
sorry he hadn’t had any.  “
Dustin’s
hair is almost as long as the
girls’.”

Elias laughed again, finding himself disarmed by this kid,
who didn’t seem to have a shy bone in his body.  “What are you up to?” he
asked.

“I’m drawing,” Ian said, very seriously.  “I’m not that
good, but I like to do it a lot.”

“May I?”  At the boy’s shy nod, Elias turned what proved to
be a pad of decent artist’s paper to take a look at what Ian had been
concentrating so intently on.  What he saw took him aback.  The kid had an
eye.  Probably his hand wouldn’t do what he wanted it to yet.  Elias remembered
his own frustration.  It would be – what? – another couple years before Ian
would be able to write at all neatly.  That’s when, if he was still drawing,
he’d find his ability taking an astronomical leap forward.  But this…

It wasn’t flat the way young children’s drawings usually
were.  In a crude way, he had achieved more than a single dimension.  Rather
than mindlessly drawing the usual house, stick figures, sun and maybe clouds in
the sky, he was attempting to put on paper what he saw in front of him, and
from his low-to-the-floor perspective.  The bookcase in front of him loomed. 
Two heads barely appeared above it on the other side.  One was a white-haired
woman with a perm, depicted with fluffy lines.  He had been carefully adding
straight lines to show the books on the shelves.

Elias flipped pages and continued to be impressed.  The
puppy wasn’t half bad.  Mischief and energy shone through despite the static
nature of the sketch.  Hannah’s smile was as wide as it was in real life. 
Apparently frustrated he hadn’t accomplished his objective, Ian had added a sun
right above her head.  Good image, even though Elias had been picturing her as
a toasty fire instead.

Flipping back to the current drawing, he handed the pad to
Ian.  “I think you’re wrong.  For your age, you are a very fine artist.  I
couldn’t have done any better when I was five.”

The freckled face lit with endearing hope.  “Really?”

“Really.”  Elias didn’t touch other people often or easily,
but he squeezed the boy’s thin shoulder.

Ian looked past him, bouncing in his chair.  “Mom!  Mr.
Burton says I’m a real good artist!”

Only inches from Elias, she bent to kiss the top of her
son’s head.  “I keep telling you that.  And I know Miss Alvarez does, too. 
Isn’t our refrigerator covered with your drawings and paintings?”

“Yeah, but he’s not my mom or my teacher.”

Elias found himself grinning.  Kid was smart.

Hannah chuckled, her eyes meeting Elias’s.  “Poor Ian is
stuck here all day.  Apparently his daycare is having an outbreak—”

“Of lice.  So he told me.”

“Mr. Burton says
he
got lice
twice
.  It made
his mom grumpy.”

She laughed out loud.  “Can’t imagine why.”

“She got mad ’cuz she couldn’t get rid of them,” he
continued earnestly.  “Even with that special shampoo.  So when he got ’em
again, she practically shaved all his hair off.”

Again she smoothed a hand over his head.  “That’s a plan.”

“You’re not going to now, are you?”  He sounded worried. 
“You said I don’t have any.”

“You don’t.  And no, I won’t.  We’ll just wait a few days
before you go back to daycare.  By then, everybody should have been treated,
and Mrs. Voight will have had a chance to do an especially good job of
cleaning.”

“Yeah!  So there won’t be any bugs at all.”

“Right.”

Elias said, “It was nice talking to you, Ian, but I need to
get back to work myself,” and stood.

The boy looked crestfallen, but said gamely, “Okay.  I liked
talking to you.”

Elias surprised himself with the realization that he’d liked
talking to Ian, too.

Hannah walked Elias to the front door.

“Thank you for visiting with him.  I’m sure he’s bored to
death.”

“He’s probably striking up conversations with everyone who
passes by.  You’ve raised a good kid, Hannah.”  He kissed her cheek, allowing
himself a tiny nuzzle he hoped she didn’t notice, and left.

He paused on the street with his hand on his car door,
looking back at Sweet Ideas.  He usually lost himself easily in his painting. 
Something told him he’d be counting the hours instead.

*****

Hannah nudged her empty salad plate away as Elias was
finishing his soup.  It had taken her a full course at this bistro in Pacific
City to work up the nerve to ask anything personal.  She liked knowing what
books and movies he enjoyed, and seeing that he was as curious about her. 
But…she wanted to know whether he’d ever been married.  Whether he’d had his
heart broken.  She assumed he’d have said if he had any children…but the man
was in his late thirties.  He must have a history.

She took a sip of water instead of the wine that went to her
head and decided to ask straight out.  “Have you ever been married?”

He went momentarily still, his gaze lifting to hers. 
“Nope.”

If he minded her asking, it didn’t show.  Even as a waiter
refilled his water, his attention stayed unwaveringly on her.  Once they were
alone again, he said, “I assume you were married to Ian’s father.”

“Yes.”  Hearing how bald her one word answer sounded, she
realized she almost had to elaborate.  “We didn’t even last three years.”

“Mistake from the beginning?”

“
I
didn’t think so.”  Oh, boy – she hadn’t meant to
say that.  At least not with that degree of tartness.  She was far from ready
to tell Elias what had happened to her marriage.  It made her feel both dumb
and devalued.

“Jackass, huh?”  He spoke mildly, but there was nothing mild
in his intense scrutiny.

“You could say that.”

“He see Ian often?”

She shook her head.  “He calls about once a month, sends
birthday cards, pays his child support.  Ian hasn’t seen him in, oh, probably a
year.”  She hesitated.  “Grady remarried, has a daughter, and his wife is
expecting again.”