Black Creek Burning (The Black Creek Series, Book 1) (34 page)

* * *

"I'm going in for a full day tomorrow. I'm feeling much better. It's just the incline
of your drive that still gets me." Brie sat at the end of Nathan's brown leather couch
in the room meant to be a library with her legs propped on his lap. "I'll have the
weekend to recuperate if I get too tired."

Nathan sat flipping pages in a custom kitchen magazine with one hand and digging his
thumb in the bottom of her foot with the other.

"Are you ever going to touch me again?"

He stopped turning pages but didn't look at her. "I am touching you."

"You know what I mean."

"You got out of the hospital less than a week ago, mostly thanks to me making a deal
with the doctor." He lifted his eyes to hers.

"I'm not breakable." She sat up and crawled over to him, laying across his lap.

He gently tucked her into the crook of his arm and kissed her long and soft. "Your
head says otherwise." He held her face and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. "I have
a great need for you. I hope that doesn't scare you. I don't want to hurt you."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Still not breakable, but I guess we should wait for
a time when your kids aren't just up the stairs. Will you tell me what Dave's got
going on?"

He shifted her to face him. "Not as much as you might like."

"Try me."

"Brian's been questioned a number of times. Duncan's sense that your attacker is female
has given him a reprieve. Sandy's back in town—"

Brie sat up straight. "Sandy's been found? What did they find? Is she in jail?"

"They've questioned her... thoroughly. She offered to let the police search her home,
and they came up empty. She says she took out cash and went to get away for a while
to look for a new job. They're working on her. Patrols pass by regularly. A profiler
was called in. They're still watching activity and checking on a number of other people,
but have come up empty so far. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm used to it. I meant it when I said I won't be caught off guard again."

* * *

Dave sat at his old metal desk next to Jim. Dr. Li used his office for the duration
of her time, preparing reports and profiling suspects for a handful of their cold
cases. He'd hoped she'd gotten a good feel for the one that was so personal to him.
A grease-ringed brown napkin sat under his ignored, stale doughnut. He sipped lukewarm
coffee and reviewed his files.

Detective Tanner came out of his office and motioned for him to come in. At the same
time, Dr. Li came out of his new office and headed in the same direction.

Finally. Patiently and attentively, he listened and took notes regarding the case
of a missing teenager from an upper-middle class family in the small town just west
of Northridge and that of a decade-old murder of a forty-seven-year-old man who had
been engaged to marry his fourth wife. He wouldn't give Brie's case anymore attention
than the others; it would just be nice to know.

"Chapman case. I have five distinguishing characteristics I would recommend you look
for regarding the assailant." She flipped through some of the pages on her full-sized
yellow legal pad while tilting her head up to see through her bifocals.

"I believe the assailant is female. Due to Chapman's mostly gender specific occupation,
the criminal we are looking for is statistically speaking not a male with issues regarding
her success. My belief in the gender of the accused also lies in the nature of the
attacks against the victim. The particular species chosen for mutilation are animals
women generally think would illicit distress.

"I believe she has professional experience with fire, either through employment or
an active hobby or has an accomplice thereof. The fire was precise and unique. Definitely
not started by an amateur. The use of the backdraft would not be from a homegrown,
self-study arsonist. The lack of evidence and of witnesses shows precision in calculations
and in timing."

Dr. Li lifted from her chair as she spoke and began pacing slowly over the generous
office space. "I believe the occupation of the suspect to be similar to that of the
victim. However, at a lower level of pay and/or of status. Jealousy and pride are
relative to one's rank. Miss Chapman's attacker struck her place of employment on
a number of occasions, ending with the extensive effort to defame her reputation with
the public exposure of the private photographs.

"The criminal is likely to be someone that is at least somewhat close to Miss Chapman.
It seems she knows Brianna not only teaches, but works individually with the assistant
superintendent, has turned down a number of administrative offers and has been chosen
as keynote speaker in at least a half-dozen seminars. The criminal chose a night Miss
Chapman was to be alone to set the fire, knew which room was hers and how to get in
the house. The use of RU-46 on the pregnant dog points to knowledge that would likely
come from a close acquaintance.

"Finally, I believe you are looking for someone that is between the ages of twenty-eight
and forty-five. The suspect would be old enough to have been of a working-class age
six years ago and young enough that Miss Chapman's lifestyle would be motive enough
for assault and murder."

* * *

The weeks passed. The air grew warmer and Brie grew stronger. She sat in the soft
grass with Nathan, Dave and Amanda as the kids played in the creek. The Forester grasses
had grown tall enough that they blew in the wind and provided protection for the blooming
purple Liatris. Rain was still sparse and the creek still low.

The children's small feet sunk in the exposed creek mud up to their ankles. As usual,
Duncan seemed to prefer a chair and a fishing pole over walking in mud and was becoming
a pro at hooking the catfish from the lake. Andy and Rose were too impatient for sitting
and chose to explore the creek.

She leaned back against Nathan's legs, wearing her denim shorts and tank as they watched.
Amanda twisted open a beer to share with Dave while she and Nathan sipped on Zinfandel.

Andy taught Rose how to catch crawfish. It was a sight. He pointed. She pushed. At
one time they stood nose to nose with their arms straight and pointing behind them
looking ready for battle. It was Amanda's turn to try to intervene, and it was Nathan's
turn to stick his arm out to keep her from it.

"Just wait. Give them a minute."

Before the stand-off came to a head, the kids both saw something from the corner of
their eyes, pointed at the water and dug in. Each came out with a thrashing, pinching
crawfish. Andy stood like it was an everyday thing, and Rose jumped up and down heroically.
Each tossed their catch in their bucket of water and hugged, covering one another
with mud.

Rose turned toward the adults and yelled, "Can we eat them?"

Andy made a face of great disgust as he stood behind Rose. When she turned to him
for approval, he merely shrugged one shoulder, mimicking his brother.

"Sure thing," Nathan yelled back before he turned to Brie. "Anyone know how to cook
crawfish—" He heard Duncan let out a whoop and saw his pole bend over and Duncan jerking
it, then reeling the line. "—and catfish?"

* * *

Dave carried Rose nestled in his arms the short walk to Clifford's house. "She smells
like fish," he said, and kissed the top of her head.

"You've been quiet all night. Is there anything the matter? Something I can do?"

Taking hold of her mass of strawberry blonde hair, Amanda held it behind her head
and looked away. "You've always treated her like she's your... like she's special
to you."

"Mmm." He nodded and tucked Rose into him like a small pillow.

"You took her with us to Florida."

"Damn straight." He thought of Disney World with a five-year-old and smiled. Smiled
until he noticed Amanda rubbing her fingertips in circles against her forehead.

"There's something I should talk to you about. Can you come in for a while?"

"Yeah. There's something I need to talk to you about, too."

He waited on the brownish plaid couch that felt like burlap. There was an ancient
television set with rabbit ears that stood on the floor in the corner of the room.

Amanda came back in then. She sat in the corner of the couch, crossed her legs and
set her hands in her lap. The look on her face pained him, but he was patient.

"I should have told you this a long time ago. I'm sorry for not doing that." She looked
everywhere but at him. "I'm okay with... no, not okay... I understand whatever you
decide to do with what I'm about to tell you. I thought about telling you when we
were at Disney, but it never seemed like the right time. I've never told anyone this,
Dave, not even Brie. And, of course, Rose doesn't know because she's too young. And
I'm not sure when or how to tell her."

She was nearly hyperventilated. He wanted so much to reach out to her, but something
told him not to.

Instead, he placed his arm across the back of the sofa, almost reaching her.

"Rose's dad," she began and looked at him with wide eyes. She closed her eyes and
turned her head, taking a deep breath. "I was in Nicaragua—"

"You don't have to do this," he interrupted.

"Please." She didn't look up. "The stories of me being young and loose and not knowing
who... that's not exactly true."

She stared at her hands.

"I wasn't loose. I was busy getting into more administrative positions with Red Cross,
involving international aid operations." Her speech sped to a mile a minute. "He said
he was there from the U.S., but now I'm not so sure. He didn't look like a local.
Blond, tall, but spoke fluent Espanola."

Oh hell, why was she telling him this?

"We went out for drinks a few times, and he thought that gave him the right... "

Without thinking, he flew up from the couch.

She looked at him now and in her eyes he saw fear.

"He raped me. Rose is... is from that."

He'd never felt such anger. She never told anyone? She's gone through this by herself?
His mind flew into cop mode. Date, probable time, location. Pacing, he ran his hands
through his hair, grabbing chunks and holding on as he tried to think. His glare flew
to the ceiling, the walls. There were questions in his mind at the edges of a dozen
vivid images. The feelings were overwhelming, unbearable, and his mind raced. He would
find him, find him and hurt him and everything he was.

"Where is he?" He needed information, but when he looked to her he saw something much
more terrifying, much more unbearable.

Amanda sat trembling with large beads of sweat lining her forehead. And in her eyes
he saw shame. His Amanda.

"I... I didn't see him after that. I s-swear. He doesn't know about Rose, I mean."

Dave dropped to the couch and sat next to her.

"Marry me."

"What? Why? What?" Amanda shook her head slowly and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"I drop this on you, and you propose? You don't have to do this. Don't do this because
you feel... sorry for me... sorry for Rose. I'm just... I just thought I should—"

"Because I'm in love with you. I knew I was going to marry you the first time I walked
you to your grandfather's door. This is what I had to talk to you about tonight."
He moved over in front of her and lowered to one knee. "I'm in love with you. I want
you to be my wife. I want Rose to be my daughter. I don't care how she got here. I
want to make her little brothers and sisters." He dug in his pocket and peeled through
a tissue. "I've been carrying this around with me for months. Will you marry me?"

The tears flowed freely over her beautiful chipmunk cheeks. She sat on her grandpa's
old couch in his old living room perfectly still. "Yes—"

He covered her mouth with his before she could say another word. Picking her up, she
wrapped her legs around his sides. He felt her cling to him as he wriggled around
to get the ring on her finger. It was a single solitaire diamond and too big for her
finger. She dropped her forehead to his as she held it out to see.

Chapter 30