She stood there and watched him as he left her office, wishing she had the guts to say what she really wanted to say.
Come back here, Jim Norton, and really kiss me. Kiss me the way you did two weeks ago. And as for being the only woman you’ve ever cared about that you weren’t banging—well, screw that. Hell, screw me. Bang me. I want you so much I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about what it would be like.
So Abby had kept all his little gifts. That pleased him. But she had shown the items he had so carefully chosen for her to the police. To her lover, Ron Hensley. To Sheriff Granger and Chief Deputy Jim Norton. Why did she have to go and share such precious, intimate items with other people?
Because she doesn’t understand. Not yet. She isn’t sure who her secret lover is. Once she knows for sure and is certain that I’m the man who adores her, that knowledge will change everything. After all, she’s fallen in love with me already. She wants me as much as I want her.
When I go to her and take her away, she’ll be happy. I’ll make her happy. I’ll allow her to prove to me how much she loves me. She won’t be like the others. She won’t disappoint me.
Abby will give me what I want…what I need.
Won’t you, my darling?
He watched her house through the binoculars as Deputy Mitchell left and Deputy Hensley entered through the front door. They were guarding her around the clock, protecting her from her destiny, trying to keep them apart. But no power on earth could stop him from claiming what was rightfully his. And Abby was his. Or she soon would be. He simply had to think of a way to outsmart the deputies.
He laughed. Outsmarting these local yokels shouldn’t be all that difficult.
Soon, Abby. Soon my love.
At precisely three o’clock, Jim pulled up at Adams Landing Middle School, which served grades six through eight. R.B. or Brenda had been picking Kevin up every day since school started last week, but Jim had taken off early from work today after promising Kevin they’d go fishing. R.B. had given Jim permission to use his pontoon boat, which he kept moored at the Adams Landing Marina, located in the Tennessee River backwaters, halfway between Adams Landing and Pine Bluff. Jim had invited Bernie to go along with them, but she’d declined.
“I think you two should spend some quality father and son time alone together,” she’d told him. And she’d been right. Kevin had been living with him for weeks now, and although they were becoming better acquainted, mostly thanks to Bernie and her folks, he still didn’t really know his son. Kevin wouldn’t open up and talk to him, not the way he did with Bernie.
Odd thing was, he envied both Kevin and Bernie. He wanted his son to be able to talk to him, to share his worries and concerns, to discuss his hopes and dreams. And sometimes he thought it would be nice if Bernie lavished as much attention on him as she did Kevin. Nutty idea. He was just lonely for female companionship, that’s all it was. What he needed was to get laid, and the sooner the better. But except for that one dinner with Robyn and his almost-date with Holly, he hadn’t dated anyone since he’d moved to Adams Landing.
Jim opened the driver’s door and got out just as the bell rang. Apparently his watch and the school clock weren’t synchronized. Either his watch was two minutes fast or the clock was two minutes slow. Within minutes of the bell ringing, front and side doors of the school building flew open and kids of various sizes came barreling outside onto the sidewalks. Kevin had told him that the sixth graders were allowed to leave first; then five minutes later, the seventh and eighth graders were dismissed.
Watching the mad scramble of middle school students, Jim propped up against the side of his truck. He remembered being in middle school, especially eighth grade. He recalled that year for two reasons. He’d gone out for football at the end of that year and had made the team. He’d been big for his age, just like Kevin, who showed no interest whatsoever in the sport Jim loved. And then there was Roseanna Kimball, the prettiest girl in his class. She’d been his first love, the first girl he had French kissed, and the first girl who had let him touch her breasts. He was thirteen, with raging hormones, so whenever he’d just thought about Roseanna, he got a woody. The first time she let him feel her up, he nearly came right on the spot.
“Hey, there’s my dad,” Kevin called out as he threw up his hand and waved at Jim.
Jim wondered what Kevin was doing coming out of school before his grade had been dismissed; then he saw that Kevin wasn’t alone. He was with Deputy Scotty Joe Walters and both of them were loaded down with boxes.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Kevin hollered at Jim. “I gotta help Scotty Joe get this stuff to his truck.”
Scotty Joe grinned, his teeth bright white against his deeply tanned complexion. Jim wondered if the young deputy got his tan from simply spending a lot of time outdoors or if he used a tanning bed. He was a handsome devil—blue eyed, blond haired, tall and muscular. He’d heard around town that all the young girls had a thing for Scotty Joe. Hell, who could blame them. The guy looked like a cover model out of the latest
GQ
magazine. Or better yet, off the cover of a fitness magazine.
“Kevin helped me with my presentation to the eighth graders today,” Scotty Joe said as he headed toward his SUV parked across the street from the line of cars waiting to pick up kids from school. “You’ve got yourself one great kid there, Captain Norton.”
“Yeah, I do.” Jim walked over and fell in step with Kevin. “Need some help, son?”
“No, thanks, Dad.” Kevin followed Scotty Joe, who hoisted the boxes he carried onto the roof of his vehicle, then unlocked the back hatch and lowered it. He turned to Kevin. “Here, let me take those.”
Kevin handed over the boxes. “If you need any help when you come back next week to talk to the seventh graders, just let me know.”
Scotty Joe chuckled as he slid the boxes into the back of his SUV. “Smart kid.” He winked at Jim. “He’s already figuring out ways to cut class without getting into trouble.”
“Ah, that’s not it and you know it,” Kevin said. “I just liked being your assistant today. And I really thought what you had to say was interesting. Besides, you talked to us like…well, like we’re on your level. You didn’t talk down to us like we’re a bunch of dumb kids.”
Scotty Joe reached out and ruffled Kevin’s overly long hair. Jim realized he needed to get his son an appointment for a haircut pretty soon. He wasn’t used to having to worry about things like making sure Kevin got haircuts or him seeing a dentist regularly or dozens of mundane daily things that made up a boy’s routine.
“I remember what it was like to be a kid,” Scotty Joe said. “It’s not easy, especially not when all the grown-ups treat you like you don’t have sense enough to come in out of the rain.”
Kevin laughed. “You got that right.”
“Are you about ready to go, son?” Jim asked.
“Yeah, in just a minute,” Kevin replied. “Hey, Scotty Joe, my dad and I are going fishing this afternoon.” Kevin glanced back and forth from the young deputy to Jim. “We’re borrowing R.B.’s boat. Want to go fishing with us?”
Scotty Joe lifted the other boxes from the roof and looked at Jim, silently asking him how he should respond, whether it was okay to say yes.
“Yeah, why don’t you come along with us?” Jim said. “If you have a rod and reel, we can stop by your place and get it.”
“If you’re sure you don’t mind my tagging along, I’d love to go.” Scotty Joe shoved the other boxes into place, then turned to Kevin. “Tell y’all what—you two go on and I’ll pick up my rod and reel on my way to the community college where we store all our D.A.R.E. stuff, and then I’ll meet y’all at the marina. That’s where the sheriff keeps his boat, right?” Scotty Joe chuckled. “I guess I should say the former sheriff. But everybody in town still calls R.B. Sheriff Granger.”
“Yeah, but Bernie’s Sheriff Granger now,” Kevin said.
Scotty Joe closed and locked the hatch. “Gets kind of confusing, doesn’t it?”
“We’re going to pick up some bait and some ice for the cooler,” Jim said. “We’re drinking colas today. Want any particular kind?”
“Nah, any kind will be fine. And colas are okay with me. I don’t drink. Not even beer.” He patted his washboard lean belly. “Liquor’s not good for the body.”
Yeah, probably not when you’re young and in prime condition. Just wait till you’re forty, got bad knees and ache like the devil. You won’t pass up a swig of Jack Daniel’s every once in a while.
“We’ll see you in about an hour,” Jim said.
Scotty Joe nodded, then got in his SUV and started the engine. Kevin followed Jim over to his battered old truck, got in and fastened his seatbelt.
Once Jim was inside, his safety belt secure and his key in the ignition, Kevin asked, “How old do you think Scotty Joe is?”
“I don’t know. Late twenties, I guess.”
“Do you think he’s too young for Bernie?”
“What?” Jim started the engine and knocked the gear into
DRIVE
.
“Well, if you’re not interested in Bernie as a girlfriend, I was thinking maybe Scotty Joe might want to date her.”
“What made you think something like that? Scotty Joe is too young for Bernie. Besides, he’s not her type.”
“What is her type?”
“I don’t know. Somebody a little older. A guy who’s not such a…a…”
“A what? I like Scotty Joe. All the guys at my school like him.”
“I like him okay, too. It’s just that he’s not the right guy for Bernie.” Jim pulled out into traffic.
“Who is the right guy for Bernie?”
“How should I know?”
“But you said—”
“You shouldn’t be playing matchmaker,” Jim told his son. “Bernie is perfectly capable of finding herself a boyfriend if she wants one.”
“That’s not what Miss Brenda says.”
Jim groaned.
“I heard Miss Brenda telling R.B. that Bernie didn’t know how to get a guy,” Kevin said.
“What were you doing eavesdropping?”
“I wasn’t. I just happened to overhear them.”
“Maybe Bernie doesn’t want a boyfriend, ever think of that?”
“I bet if you’d ask her out on a date, she’d go.”
“Kevin, I thought we’d settled this issue. Bernie and I are friends. Just friends.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
Jim reached across the seat and playfully punched Kevin’s arm. “Come on, smile. We’re going fishing. And your buddy Scotty Joe’s going with us.”
Kevin offered Jim a tentative smile. “Yeah, we’ll have fun.” Then he thought for a couple of minutes and added, “But we’d have even more fun if Bernie was coming along, too.”
He had been waiting for the right moment. This was the first time he’d ever had to wait longer than he’d originally planned, but Abby had made things more difficult for them by allowing others to become involved in something that should have remained a private matter between the two of them. Although he forgave her, knowing she’d simply made a mistake because she wasn’t aware of his identity, he would still have to punish her. She would learn that displeasing him resulted in penalties, often severe, but never unjust. Perhaps Abby would not disappoint him again. Perhaps she would please him from the very first moment they were together.
More than anything on earth, he wanted this time to be the right time, this woman the right woman. He wanted Abby to be more like her. No one could be exactly like her, but he kept searching, kept looking for a duplicate, someone almost as perfect.
Don’t think about her. She’s gone forever. Resting in peace. Her soul free of earthly torment. You thought when she died that you, too, could find peace, that you would be released from reliving that shameful day again and again.
But her death had not set him free. It had trapped him.
The car pulled into Abby’s driveway, alongside the beige Toyota Avalon. Ron Hensley got out and walked to the front door. The door opened and Deputy Downs came outside and talked to Ron a few minutes, then when Ron went inside, John Downs headed for his car.
Changing of the guard.
Abby had police protection twenty-four/seven.
He smiled.
Abby was just the type to want to make him work a little harder to woo and win her. She wanted to see if he would simply give up and go away. She was testing him, forcing him to prove how much he wanted her.
Don’t worry, darling. I want you. I want you enough to do whatever I have to do to make you mine.
Abby woke at five-thirty, her head pounding and her heart racing. She sat straight up in bed, gasping for air. She glanced at the other side of the bed. Empty.
“Ron?”
He poked his head out of the bathroom. “I’m here, honey. Just taking a piss before I head for home.”
Abby nodded her head in a jerky acknowledgment. “Brett Dennison is relieving you this morning, right?”
“Yep, he should be here any minute.” Ron disappeared into the bathroom for a couple of seconds, then reemerged and came over to the bed. He sat down on the edge and pulled Abby into his arms. “Why don’t you try to get a couple more hours of sleep? It’s Monday and the shop is closed today.”
“When I sleep, I dream,” Abby said. “I dream about him.”
Ron hugged her, then cupped her chin in the curve between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re safe, honey. We’re not going to let him get anywhere near you. Trust me.”
She tried to smile, but wasn’t able to do more than lift the corners of her mouth a fraction. “Oh, God, Ron, I’m scared shitless.”
He caressed her face tenderly. “Yeah, I know you are.”
“You’ve got to catch this guy.” She swallowed a knot of fear. “Soon.”
The doorbell rang. Abby jumped as if she’d been shot.
Ron grasped her shoulders and ran his hands down over her arms. “Take it easy. That’s just Brett.” He forced her to lie back down; then he kissed her forehead. “Try to go back to sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”
She nodded.
After he left her bedroom, she got up and hurriedly made the bed, then rushed into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. She stripped off her gown, turned on the shower and jumped in while the water was still semicold. Shivering, she stood there, lifted her face and let the spray wash away her tears.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed in the shower—more than five minutes, maybe ten. After she dried off, she ran a comb through her hair, and then searched her closet for something to wear. Shorts and a T-shirt would do since she was staying home all day or at least all morning. Maybe she’d get Brett to take her to the grocery store since Monday was her usual day to hit the Pig and run by Wal-Mart.
Abby’s stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten more than a few bites of supper last night. But the thought of food didn’t appeal to her at all. But a cola would hit the spot right about now. She opened the bedroom door and walked down the hall. The least she could do was offer to fix breakfast for Brett. She’d put on a pot of coffee and make him some scrambled eggs and toast. She might be able to keep down some dry toast.
Before entering the living room, she heard the TV and recognized the voices. Brett was watching an early morning show out of Huntsville.
“Hey, I’m up,” she called as she walked into the living room. “Would you like some eggs and toast? I thought I’d—”
She stopped dead still. Brett was not in the living room.
He must be in the kitchen or the half bath.
“Brett?”
No response.
“Brett, where are you?”
Silence.
She knocked on the closed door to the powder room. “Deputy Dennison?”
Nothing.
She wiggled the handle, then opened the door. The half bath was empty.
Deputy Dennison had to be here somewhere. Ron would never have left her here alone.
Maybe Brett stepped outside on the front porch.