Cover Your Eyes (29 page)

“They were written by a woman.” She arched a brow. “No doubt a woman who loved Annie’s lover as well. Did the DNA say whether or not the second blood sample was male or female?”

The question gave him pause. “A woman.”

“A woman killed Annie?”

“Maybe. Or Jeb killed two women with that tire iron.”

Rachel considered the theory and dismissed it immediately. “What woman hated Annie more than any other?”

“A lot of women didn’t like Annie. Many saw her as a threat.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

“The woman would now have to be in her late forties at least.” She spoke the first name that came to mind. “Margaret.”

“Possible. She would have been sixteen at the time of Annie’s death. And she’s still fit.”

“She adored her sister.”

His eyes flashed with a savvy knowing of a cop who’d seen too much of the dark side of humanity. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“You’ll need more than that in court.”

“I’ll figure this out.”

“Whoever killed those women and attacked me was strong. Quick.”

“The element of surprise offers an advantage.”

She turned the idea of a female killer over and over and the more she did, the greater sense it made. “Lexis might have been tossed off guard by a woman. She’d have delayed before acting and that delay cost her.”

“Help me figure this out?”

The question mark didn’t hide the command woven around the words. “Me? But I’m the enemy.”

The intensity in his eyes softened a fraction. “Perhaps not as bad an enemy as I first thought.”

Electricity snapped between them and a force she’d never known tugged at her. Suddenly, she wanted to touch him. To feel the rough stubble of his chin under her fingertips and against her cheek.

Jesus, Rachel, really? He’s the last guy you should
—

Rachel silenced the warning. “Thanks.”

Deke’s gaze ignited with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. She felt devoured by his gaze and he’d not made one step toward her.

He was a man who’d lived his life apart. Out of necessity yes, but also maybe a little out of fear. She understood that fear. The fear of feeling too much. Their kind of emotion was a double-edged sword that cut easily.

But in this moment consequences hovered on a distant horizon far out of sight. She had only now and the tension pulling her toward him.

She took one step. “Stay.”

 

 

Nikki’s head pounded as if a hammer clattered against the inside of her skull. She rocked back and forth in her bed, cradling her skull in her hands. She moaned, wishing the pain would stop.

“The pain is back?” Rudy’s voice rumbled like gravel but it soothed her to know he was close.

She glanced up, tears streaming from her eyes. “It hurts. Worse than ever.”

Glass of water in hand, he sat on the side of the bed. “I know it hurts. I know it does. I’ve your medicine.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair, clutching handfuls as if to get a handle on the pain. “It makes my head fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy is better than pain and the anger.” He unfurled a fist, revealing a calloused palm and two pink pills. “Take your medicine like a good girl.”

She released the clumps of hair, took the pills and popped them in her mouth. Like a child, she took the water glass and swallowed a healthy gulp.

Rudy watched her swallow and then took the glass from her. “It won’t be long now before the pain stops. Now lie back and close your eyes.”

She eased back against the pillow, wincing when her head touched the sheet. “It hurts.”

He settled the glass on the nightstand, but kept the pills in his pockets. Once in the beginning, he’d left them behind and had come in to find her ready to eat the entire bottle. “I know. But it will stop.”

Watery eyes stared up at him. “Why does it hurt?”

“It always does.” He tugged the blanket up from the foot of the bed and covered her, tucking the end under the mattress.

“But why?” Hers was the voice of a child.

There’d been a time when he’d tried to explain about the headaches and why she could get so angry, but his explanations had left her confused and upset. So he’d stopped answering and let the pills simply do their job. “Doesn’t matter why, Nikki. Just matters that I can take the pain away.”

She looked up at him, her gaze not focusing on his face. “Thank you.”

His bushy mustache twitched over yellowed teeth into a smile. “Sure. Anything for my girl.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, took her hand in his as he had a thousand times before and waited silently until her breathing slowed and the tension eased from her brow.

Only when she’d fallen into a deep sleep did he rise and move to the door. His gaze lingered on her sleeping form; a long time before he shut off the light.

For so long he’d never questioned what he’d done all those years ago. However, age and time had stirred up doubts that haunted him. What if he’d made a terrible mistake?

 

 

 

The look in Deke’s eyes told Rachel she’d effectively jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He released the door handle and cupped her face in his hands. Slowly, he smoothed his thumb over her jawline. The touch sent a shock through her body.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

Ignoring the warning, she relaxed into the kiss, savoring the sensual explosions. Her hand pressed to his chest and she realized this was the moment to choose. Jump or dive. Stop thinking and simply feel. She chose to dive into the emotions.

She fisted his shirt in her fingers and pulled him closer, allowing herself this purely carnal pleasure. He wrapped a strong arm around her and pressed her body against his. She arched into him as his hand trailed up under her shirt and cupped her breast. When he fingered her taut nipple she moaned.

He pulled back and stared into her gaze, searching.

She moistened swollen lips. “The bedroom is upstairs.”

His gaze darkened as she took him by the hand and led him to her bedroom. He kissed her as he backed her up toward the bed. When her legs bumped the edge of the mattress, he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it over her head. A dark smile curved the edges of his lips as he stared at round breasts swelling over lace cups.

He removed his shirt as she kicked off her shoes and loosened the side zipper on her pants. When the zipper released, the pants slid over smooth skin to pool around her ankles.

His chest bore several tattoos. Tribal markings covered a right bicep in a half sleeve. Latin words scripted across his lower belly read
Veritas, justitia, Libertas
and translated into truth, justice, and liberty. A thick scar slashed across his bicep. All told a story that stirred questions she’d likely never ask.

Naked, both kissed as he eased her to the bed. He smoothed a rough hand over her flat belly. “So soft,” he muttered.

She pushed against him encouraging him to explore. His eyes darkened as his hand traced under her small breasts. When he cupped her and his callouses rubbed the soft skin of her nipple she hissed in a breath. He loomed over and kissed her lips. She threaded trembling fingers through his short hair and arched into him.

Even as desires grew from embers to flames, the drumbeat of warnings sounded in her head. She didn’t know how to give and then walk away. But to expect more than this moment was begging for heartache.

The worries were drowned out by a new wash of desire as he settled between her legs.

The next few minutes were a haze of sensation as he touched her, kissed her bare skin, and coaxed her carefully veiled emotions into the light. She’d not allowed herself this kind of pleasure for a long, long time and realized she was half-starved for touch.

Rachel smoothed her hands over his muscled back, feeling him tense to her touch. When he entered her, she sucked in a breath as flesh expanded. He hesitated, watched her gaze, as she slowly adjusted to him.

“You okay?” he whispered.

She moistened her lips. Touched his face. Smiled. “Yes.”

He waited an extra beat, giving her one more instant to reconsider second thoughts, and then kissed her on the lips and began to move inside her.

As much as she wanted the desires to build and to know a release, she didn’t want to rush this moment. So much of her life was a
rush, rush, rush
from one crisis to another. No time to think. No time to feel. But not now. She wanted to feel and savor every moment.

His body snapped with tension as she wasn’t the only one familiar with deprivation. He moved faster and faster and despite her wish for a slow ride he swept her up along with him.

When climax overtook both of them, tears pooled in her eyes. So long since she’d felt any type of connection. He collapsed against her, his heart beating hard and fast. She closed her eyes, savoring the connection. She understood it wouldn’t last but she was used to temporary.

He rose up on an elbow, in no rush to break the skin-to-skin connection. He captured a tear with his thumb. “You all right?”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded hoarse and rough. She’d devoured him but knew she’d soon be hungry again.

“You’re upset.”

“No.” A winsome smile flickered and faltered. “Just overwhelmed.”

He smoothed his hand over her hair. He traced her jawline. “Really? I didn’t think that was possible.”

That enticed a throaty laugh. “It happens on rare occasions.”

He traced deepening worry lines in her forehead. “You don’t like to be overwhelmed.”

“I didn’t mind it.” A faint smile teased the edge of her lips. “But you better take a picture. Won’t happen again for a while.”

He stroked his hand over her collarbone. “Sounds like a challenge.”

“No challenge. Just a fact.” Again she couldn’t keep the candor silenced. “Moments like this are rare. As much as we want them to last, they don’t.”

“They do sometimes.”

“Not for me. Not for you.”

He traced his hand along her arm. “Maybe before, but now—”

“Don’t.” Just the implication of a promise was more than she could handle. Better to savor what was and not expect more.

A muscle flexed in his bicep. “Don’t what?”

“Make any promises.”

His marriage history rebutted any promises of tomorrows even before he could speak them. “Fair enough.”

She stared at him silently, savoring the warmth of his naked body against hers, not willing to dream beyond now.

He kissed her gently. “I like the way you challenge me. Not many people do that these days.”

She ran her tongue over her lips, savoring his taste. “I thought I annoyed the hell out of you.”

“You do. You can be a real problem. But I’m getting used to it.”

“I’m difficult. Hard to live with. I drive people away.”

“Then maybe we are suited.”

In this unguarded moment, she spoke her mind. “You’ll leave. Work will pull you away. I know that because we are a lot alike that way.” Gently she stroked the side of his cheek, kissed him, and imagined how she’d like to make love to him again. She wiggled out from under him, coaxed him on his back and climbed on top.

He cupped calloused hands on her hips. “You’ve got me all figured out.”

“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist. Two divorces under your belt are warning enough.” She moved against him, smiling as he hardened. “But I don’t want forever. I want now.”

His hands trailed up her arms to her shoulders. He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard on the mouth. He hadn’t disagreed with words but his kiss had a possessive edge that said otherwise. He rolled her on her back and entered her again.

She hissed as her body fired to life again. However passionately Deke kissed or made love, he wasn’t going to hang around. And that was okay. It was.

She kissed him on the lips and felt his body respond. This taste of sweetness would leave her craving more.

 

 

Baby stood in the new chapel, hands prostrate, staring at the simple white cross hanging above the altar. Hands clasped tight, tears welled. “Lord, let him change his ways. Let him see that he’s a sinner and make him the man he needs to be.”

Two bodies should have been lesson enough. What would it take to get him to really stand up and do the right thing?

“Who’s there?” Pastor Gary’s voice echoed in the empty chapel. He wore khakis, a white shirt buttoned to the second to top button and simple brown shoes.

Baby burrowed deeper into the folds of the hoodie. “Pastor Gary.”

A smile deepened the creases around his eyes, which conveyed surprise more than welcome. “Baby, I thought that was you. I got your message.

“You said there was a problem. Are you having a bad time?” Pastor Gary shook his head as he approached, a warm smile softening his gaze. “Remember the first time I called you Baby? You couldn’t have been more than two.”

The gentle tone of the pastor’s voice softened some of the hate in Baby’s heart. The Pastor Gary standing here now was the man so many people loved. “I don’t remember the first time. But I can’t remember a time when you didn’t call me Baby.”

Pastor Gary was silent for a moment. “Why are you here?”

“I come here sometimes when I’m troubled.”

He stood silent and tense. “Why are you troubled?”

Baby shrugged. “I’m troubled with too much temptation.”

Pastor Gary’s gaze roamed, taking in faded jeans, sweatshirt, and loose jacket. “We are all tempted.”

Baby’s head cocked with curiosity. Fingers slid to the .38 tucked in the folds of the hoodie. “Have you been tempted?”

He cleared his throat and glanced around the arena sanctuary. He saw no one but lowered his voice. “Of course.”

“Why do you give into temptation?”

“I pray to God when the devil beckons. I pray for help and guidance.”

That wasn’t true. He ran toward temptation with open arms. And until now, Baby had forgiven him. “But do you sin?”

Pastor Gary cleared his throat. “What’s all this talk about sin, Baby?” He moistened dry lips. “What have you done?”

“Lots of things.” No hint of regret darkened the words.

A frown furrowed Pastor Gary’s brow as he clasped his hands in prayer. “Baby, you were one of the nicest people I knew. I’d have known if you did bad things.”

“Would you?” Baby wasn’t sure. “You’ve never really paid attention to me.”

“I’m always paying attention.” The confidence humming under the words spoke to his pride. He prided himself on knowing his congregation’s sins and secrets, hearing their confessions and knowing the bleakest part of their souls. However, he didn’t know Baby’s secrets.

The need to confess and maybe even pride pricked at Baby. “You received my warnings, didn’t you?”

“Warnings?”

Baby squared broad shoulders. “Dixie. Rebecca.”

Pastor Gary frowned, his pale eyes reflecting fear. “What did you do, Baby?”

Baby’s right hand remained on the gun, fingering the cool metal. “I took out the trash.”

He frowned as if a memory flickered in the shadows. “Someone else said that to me once.”

Baby nodded. “So you do remember?”

Pastor Gary took a step back. “Who sent you to me?”

“No one. I decided to come on my own.” A shrug lifted square shoulders.

“What do you want?”

“It annoyed me when you stopped coming around to visit. So I sent you the first warning with Dixie.”

His face paled as if he recalled the news accounts of the singer’s death. “I don’t understand.”

Laughter bubbled. “We both know there are two less sluts to tempt you.”

His unnaturally smooth skin strained against a frown as the weight of the words settled. “Who else knows about this?”

Baby savored his discomfort. “You look pale, Pastor Gary.”

“Dear Lord,” he muttered. “You and Rebecca . . .”

“I took care of her, too.”

Horror gave his eyes the wild look of a caged animal. “You need help.”

“Maybe I do. I’ve sinned, but you’ve sinned more, haven’t you, Pastor Gary?”

He glanced around the sanctuary, cringing. “I’ve made poor choices.”

Baby tugged at the cuff of the hoodie rescued from the church’s goodwill bin. Waste not, want not. “You are ashamed?”

He shoved manicured hands into his pockets. He jangled loose change. “I have asked God for forgiveness.”

“Is that all it takes? If I were to ask God to wipe away my sins would that be enough?”

“Baby, you hurt those women.”

“Hurt, no. Killed, yes. And I liked it.”

Color drained from his face. “My God, Baby.”

Baby raised a finger to smiling lips. “It can be our secret.”

He straightened his shoulders, clearly already assessing the fallout of this confession. His eyes sharpened with ambition. “You expect me to keep this secret?”

“I’ve never told your secret. Lots of times I could have told but I never did. Reasonable you can keep mine.”

“Baby, I can’t keep this quiet. I can’t.” His hand trembled when he shoved tense fingers through his hair. He took a step back. “Why?”

“To punish you. To show you who is really important to you.”

Disgust contorted features made smooth by Botox. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“I don’t believe you.” Baby had expected him to be upset. No one liked to be punished. But this punishment was in his best interest. Soon he’d see and he’d be grateful.

Revulsion darkening his features, he pointed a finger trembling with retribution. “You are the devil.”

His anger wasn’t unexpected. “You gonna tell?”

“Yes.”

He’d never tell. He didn’t have the nerve to risk endangering his empire. “The world will find out about you.”

“So be it.”

“You are Satan!” The hatred and conviction resonating from the pastor’s voice stung like rejection. Baby’s heart constricted with sadness and anger. “You never really loved me, did you? You called me your Baby but you didn’t really mean it.”

He jerked as if backhanded. “God loves all sinners, but I cannot accept what you’ve done.”