Hard Silence (8 page)

Jeff yawned as he typed the email to Bob.
Serial killer, probably a team. It’s possible that the alpha partner has died and the beta has now taken the lead. You’ll have more bodies. Focus on locations similar to Thomas and Finch, on landmarks and parks.

Trudging to the master bath, he rummaged through his shaving bag in search of his toothbrush, then his toothpaste, and his dental... Forget it. Opening a drawer, he tipped the bag upside down and shook the contents until everything rattled and clattered out into a pile.

In the bedroom, he dug through his suitcase, shoving clothes aside to find pajamas and then refolding his shirts to keep them unwrinkled. The front compartment refused to zip closed over the pile of dirty laundry he’d shoved in there over the last few days.

Again, the dresser drawers were empty, and there was a hamper in the closet. The Simons had made a space for him in their home, so why disappoint them? He tossed his dirty clothes into the hamper and stacked his clean ones in the drawers. Then he stored his suitcase in the closet.

The last step to moving in was hanging Abby’s gift over the dresser. The light caught it just right, glinting against the pattern carved into the dark frame. He could hear the whip of the pole and the plop as the lure hit the water. As he drifted to sleep, his fingers twitched against the imaginary bite of the line.

Chapter Six

Abby gulped and dialed the phone. She couldn’t cancel now, could she? Maybe there was a rule, like canceling a dentist appointment. Maggie answered on the third ring, and she lost her voice.

“Abby? Hang on. Let me turn this down.” The blaring music in the background faded to a whisper.

“Hi.”

“You sound awful. What’s wrong?”

Abby plopped into the nearest chair and summoned Toby by snapping her fingers. “I have a d-date.”

The music stopped altogether, allowing Abby to hear the smile in her friend’s next word. “Really? With whom?”

“Jeff.” Abby ruffled Toby’s fur.

“Wow. Umm, when?”

“Seven.”

“Tonight? You have date with Jeff at seven tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Ab, that’s two hours from now. Do you want me to come help?”

Yes, please. Come tell me I’m not an idiot for doing this. Or tell me I am an idiot, and stand next to me while I send him away. Better yet, come sit on my porch and send him away so I don’t have to do it.
Abby’s gaze shot to the hill. Jeff would see Maggie’s car in the driveway. He’d think she was making a big deal out of this. “No. This way is fine.”

“All right. Where is he taking you?”

Where? I don’t know where. He just said dinner, Friday at seven.
“Umm...”

“He didn’t tell you? God, I don’t know why men think that’s acceptable. They have no idea how many decisions we make based on where. What if we’re too dressed up and we don’t know until we open the door? Then everyone feels like an idiot—”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry. What did he say?”

Abby slid to the floor and wrapped her free arm around her dog. “He wants to thank me. For a pic-picture.” She sucked in a deep breath. She had to get it together. She couldn’t stutter every word all night. “And for dinner. M-Maybe it’s not a date.”

“Maybe not.”

The comfort was cold.
Not
a date would be takeout burgers in the middle of the week. Even Abby knew Friday at seven was a date.

“Wear something you’re comfortable in. You’ll be fine.” Maggie reassured her. “It’s just Jeff.”

Just Jeff.
Abby rubbed a hand over her stomach, where her skin still tingled whenever she thought about his touch. Worse, she forgot to be quiet when he was around. It was addictive to watch his eyes sparkle, to see him smile, to listen to him talk. How was she supposed to spend a whole evening with him, listening to him, and
not
talking?

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Have fun, relax, and be yourself.” Maggie’s smile coated her words. It helped. “Call me tomorrow and tell me how it went.”

She hung up and sat with Toby, listening to the clock tick away precious minutes.
He’ll run screaming if I’m myself. Everyone would. So, what would a normal girl do?

Fifteen minutes later, after she’d formulated a plan, she pushed herself from the floor and into the bathroom. She wouldn’t borrow trouble, instead she’d take one step at a time.

As she applied lip balm, the clock chimed seven o’clock. The tread of her boots on the hardwood gave her courage. Heavy black leather, cluttered with buckles, they made her feel braver just looking at them. She shook her head at Toby, sitting next to the door, under his leash.

“No, boy. I think this is one time when three’s a crowd.”

Should she wait on the porch? No. In the movies, the women opened the door. She’d wait in here.

Seven-oh-five. She got a glass of water and kept her gaze on her feet as she returned to the living room. Perched on the sofa, she listened for his car in the driveway.

Disgusted with herself, she pushed back and made her spine curve against the couch cushions. She dialed up a playlist to hide the ticking of the clock and picked up the Dumas book she’d borrowed from the library.

One page later, one page she’d have to read again on another day, she carried her empty glass to the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher. Forgetting her resolution, she stared out the window at her empty driveway. It was seven-fifteen.

He’d forgotten.

Her phone rang, shrill in the quiet, and she stared at it like a skunk she’d startled. How did he know her number?

She connected the call and whispered, “Hello?”

“Abby?”

All that worry for nothing. He wasn’t coming, and he wasn’t calling. “Hi. Doctor Morgan. How are. You?”

“I’m fine, dear. Is there any way you could come to the hospital?”

Hospital? Was Jeff late because something had happened? “Of course. Why?”

“We have a little boy down here who’s had a hell of a time of it today, and he’s not really talking. I was thinking—”

The warmth of a dog working its magic, soothing aches, reminding you there are sweet things in the world. Unless he’s cold beneath you and his blood is mingled with yours.

“There’s a. Beagle. Puppy,” Abby squeaked. “At the. Shelter. I could. Bring. Him.”

“Best thing for a boy is a beagle,” Doctor Morgan said. “How soon could you be here?”

There was no reason to wait around. It wasn’t like she had plans anymore. And she wasn’t going to feel bad about it. “I’ll leave now.”

She hung up and stood. So did Toby.

“No,” she said as she scratched his head. “You stay here. It’s someone else’s turn to work. And you don’t need to steal his thunder.”

Instead of taking the farm truck, she backed her SUV out of her garage, looking in the review mirror and seeing only the house on the hill. The lights were on. He was home. She’d spent all afternoon worrying herself silly and he was
home
. Why the hell had he tortured her with the threat of a date if he was going to do
this
?

And why did it matter? It’s what she’d wanted anyway. He was safer up there.

Abby focused on dodging the ruts in the driveway. Buck would have a fit that she’d let it erode like this, but she liked the obstacle course. It slowed down visitors so she could see them coming and have time to hide. Unless she was on the road when they arrived. Like now.

The headlights blinded her as the driver closed the distance, and she froze like a deer—waiting on her slaughter. Abby’s heart thudded as her lungs screamed for air.

The little silver sports car drew even and stopped, and she stared down at the shaggy man behind the wheel. Dread replaced fear, but at least it was safe to roll down the window.

“Were you coming up to tell me off?” Jeff asked, his smile visible in the twilight.

“Going to town,” Abby replied. “Doctor. Morgan. Called.”

“He called me, too. Why don’t we go together? I’ll drive.” He pulled forward, toward the house. “You can leave your car.”

Dumbfounded, she craned her neck out the window to stare at his taillights as he stopped at her front door. She ought to just go and leave him waiting, but she couldn’t leave him here alone.

“Dammit to hell,” she muttered as she wrestled through a three-point turn and drove back to her garage. Jeff was waiting next to his car, standing beside the open passenger door.

“I lost track of the time.” He swept his hand toward the seat and dipped his head until his bangs obscured his glasses. “Let me make it up to you.”

The collar of his jacket was sticking up and his jeans were rumpled and bunched around his shoes, one of which was untied. He was the epitome of the absent-minded professor.

“We’re both going to the hospital anyway,” he wheedled. “It’ll be less awkward.”

Tell him no.

“After we’re finished we can decide about dinner.”

Go away.

“Please, Abby,” he said as he dropped his hand. “I know I’ve fucked this up. I really am sorry.”

“I have to pick up a dog,” she warned him. Maybe he wouldn’t want a puppy in his fancy car.

“Okay.” His smile widened.

Dammit.

She stepped around him and ducked into the passenger seat. When he clicked the door closed, she slid her fingers against the supple leather seat as heat seeped through her jeans. Navigation, Bluetooth, a steering wheel loaded with controls. Jeff opened the driver’s door, and the aluminum trim glinted in the light.

“Buckle up,” he said.

She reached for the seat belt and stopped. “There’s no backseat. I can’t put a pet carrier in here.”

“Are you bringing a Great Dane?” He smiled when she shook her head. “Then he’ll fit somehow. Don’t worry.”

Once she was secure, he crept down the driveway, slaloming around the ruts. “You should fix your driveway.”

“You should drive a sensible car,” she snapped, fighting the urge to snuggle against the leather.

“Sometimes sensible is overrated. Where are we going?”

“The Humane Society.”

They made a right onto the highway, and the car leapt forward. The acceleration pushed her back into the seat. Despite herself, Abby grinned.

“What were you saying about
sensible
?” Jeff asked, humor soaking his words.

Heated upholstery was no match for his laugh. Her muscles relaxed and her nerves calmed. “Why did Dale call you?”

“Most people hear
FBI
and
profiler
and think I’m some sort of shrink, a human lie detector.”

“And you’re not.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care about fixing criminals. I care about catching them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really good at interrogations, but the trick is to never ask a question if you don’t already know the answer. It’s why I like evidence.”

“You’re going to. Interrogate. A little boy?”

“Of course not. The kid didn’t do anything wrong. I honestly don’t know how I can help, but I hated to tell Dale no.”

He liked catching the bad guys, and he was good at it. He liked helping.
Can I tell you a secret? Can I show you what I keep in my attic?
The words crept up her tongue.
My mother is a—

They’d reached the Humane Society, and Abby opened her door while the motor was still running. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” he grumbled as he stood.

“I’m. Used. To. It.” She scurried up the walk, anxious to get away before she told him everything. His long strides thudded behind her. He was too close. He shouldn’t be this close.

“Don’t. Chase. Me.” She fought for the words even as she tried to outrun the comfort he offered.

“Then don’t run,” he said as he grabbed her hand.

The simple contact stopped her where his words wouldn’t have. If he knew what he was chasing, what he was touching, he’d never do it. No one would. They’d banish her. She deserved at least that.

She tugged her fingers. He tightened his grip. And she did the most selfish thing she’d ever done—she held on.

They entered through the back door and the dogs came to life when she disarmed the alarm. Yipping and whining, they stood at the doors of their kennels, tails wagging. She hated to ignore them, but she was in a hurry.

“Not tonight, guys. We’ll play tomorrow,” she promised as she went to the end of the aisle.

The beagle puppy was standing on the door, his hello more of a warble than a bark. She gathered him into her arms and dissolved into giggles as he licked her face and snuffled in her ear.

Jeff was standing two kennels away, staring at her like she was from another planet. He was used to more sophisticated women.
See, this is why we shouldn’t date.
Maybe he’d get the point and just take her home.

And maybe she’d remember it was for the best.

She picked up a small upholstered pet carrier and stashed the puppy inside.

This time, as they left the building, she didn’t scurry away. As they walked side by side, Jeff twined his fingers through hers, holding on lightly as if she were breakable. It was the prettiest lie, and she let herself believe it.

He held the door for her, waiting patiently while she dithered over where to store the beagle. Finally she put the bag in her lap. After closing her door, he loped around the car and slid behind the wheel.

“Will you two be safe like that?”

She nodded, unable to say anything, and he put the car in reverse.

The drive to the hospital was too short for conversation, and he didn’t seem to be in the mood for it. He was probably trying to figure out a way to get out of dinner. She’d smell like dog. That’s just what a man looked for in a date,
eau de beagle.

Dale Morgan greeted them at the nurses’ station with a grandfatherly smile and an outstretched hand. “Glad you could both come.”

“What’s happened?” Jeff asked as they started down the hall, weaving between gurneys, wheelchairs, and staff.

“The boy’s name is Evan Gaines,” the doctor explained. “Chief Roberts and Max brought him in a few hours ago. Poor guy was hungry, filthy and exhausted. They found him under the porch, curled back into a corner with a hatchet. They had to pry it away out of his hands.”

“Jesus,” Jeff muttered. “And his parents?”

“The family moved here from North Dakota a few months ago. Andy, the dad, was hoping to get work with Mathis, but he couldn’t pass the drug test. Laura, the mother, had been waiting tables at the truck stop. But Andy took his frustration out on her, and she missed too many shifts. They’ve been living hand-to-mouth ever since. And now Laura’s in the morgue, Andy’s in jail, and Glen Roberts thinks Evan is the only witness.”

They’d reached the end of the hall and Abby grabbed Jeff before he rounded the corner into the room. “Wait,” she whispered.

Kneeling, she unzipped the carrier and lifted the beagle. Praying he’d run for the boy in the bed and not down the hall, she sat him on the floor and pushed him into the room.

Jeff knelt next to her, his hand on her shoulder.

Thankfully, the puppy smelled food and boy and went in the right direction. After a few minutes, he whined for attention. The sheets rustled. The puppy barked as his nails scratched the floor. The giggle was faint, but unmistakable.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5...

She touched Jeff’s knee, so close to hers, and he looked at her. She had to focus on her job rather than his long, dark eyelashes. “Give me five minutes with him,” she whispered into his ear.