Hatfield and McCoy (17 page)

Yet, as he lay beside her later, his chest glistening in the moonlight that flickered into her room, he seemed more distant than ever before. He rose, walked to the window, then came back to her.

“I have to go.”

“Are you coming back tonight?” she asked.

He hesitated. “No. I'll be busy.”

She gritted her teeth. He wasn't going to be busy. And he wasn't coming back tomorrow, or the day after. She knew it. What she didn't know was why.

“Fine.”

“Julie—”

“Never mind! Just go.”

“Damn you, Julie, if you just understood—”

“Well, I don't, because you never want to tell me anything. And you're making me neurotic. One minute you can't leave my side, and the next minute you're climbing out of bed to tell me that you don't want to see me again.”

“I didn't say that—”

“I'm a psychic, remember?” she said curtly. He wasn't coming back, she thought with panic. At least, that was what he was thinking at the moment.

And everything still seemed so intimate between them. They were both naked, slick, warm. They should have been content. They should have been curled into one another's arms.

She leaped up, wrenched her robe from the foot of her bed and slipped into it. She tied the belt in a knot as she continued speaking to him.

“But then, that is the problem, isn't it? You'd be perfectly happy if I'd just pretend that none of it existed. Well, I can't!”

“Julie, damn you!”

He was sputtering. She was right. But suddenly he jerked her into his arms.

And kissed her again.

And it was all there. All the passion, all the demand. All the hunger.

Maybe even love …

But then he broke from her abruptly. “I have to go.”

She stepped back, tears stinging her eyes as he dressed.

“Julie—”

“You said that you had to go,” she said flatly.

He didn't try to argue with her. He left her in the room. She heard his footsteps as he hurried down the hallway—and then the door slammed.

Then she heard his bellow far beneath her. “Come lock this door!”

“I have a monster of a dog,” she muttered to herself. “Why do I have to lock the damned door?”

But she went downstairs and did so. She leaned against the door while she heard him gun his motor, then drive away.

“I hate him!” she said out loud. Then she added softly, “I think I love him. I really do.”

Rusty came and stuck his cold wet nose into her hand while he wagged his tail, waiting to be petted. Absently, Julie obliged him.

“What makes him tick, Rusty?” she said to the dog. “He can't seem to stay away, he buys me presents—like you. And then …”

She paused, realizing that she still didn't really know what Brenda had been about to tell her about her brother.

He had been married. That was all she knew.

“So what happened to his wife, Rusty? And why did it make him hate psychics?”

Rusty barked.

“I swear, I am going to find out tomorrow!” Julie vowed.

But the questions seemed to plague her relentlessly.

It was going to be a long, long night.

Chapter 9

B
y the next evening, Julie was frustrated. She hadn't heard from McCoy.

And she hadn't been able to reach Brenda, either. She had tried the business number through most of the day, but had managed to speak with nothing but Brenda's answering machine.

She had tried to concentrate on a new story, but had quickly given up the effort. Then she had tried to read a new mystery that she had been dying to sink her teeth into, but she couldn't concentrate on any printed matter any more completely than she could concentrate on her own.

At six she sat on her front steps, idly patting Rusty, who had worn himself out running around, and now sat contented by her side, half of his big body on one step, half of it on another.

Suddenly, Rusty sat up and started to bark.

“What is it?” Julie asked the dog. Then she saw. One of Petty's police patrol cars was winding its way up her little patch of mountain.

“Who is it, huh?” She felt herself tighten from head to toe, hoping that it was going to be McCoy. She knew, though, that he wouldn't be in the cruiser. And when the car pulled to a halt in front of her house, she quickly saw that Patty was driving and Joe Silver was at her side.

The two exited the car smiling. Then Rusty started to bark and bellow.

The smile quickly left Patty's pretty freckled face and she stopped dead still. Joe's brown gaze became somber, and he, too, stopped walking.

“It's all right!” Julie called quickly. She put a firm hand on Rusty's collar. “Rusty, these are the cops!” she remonstrated to the dog. “He's supposed to be so damned well trained!” she called out. “A burglar will come and good old Rusty will probably lead him to the silver! Rusty, they're friends. Sit!”

Rusty whined but immediately dropped at her feet. He put his nose between his paws.

“Where on earth did he come from?” Patty asked her.

“You didn't know anything about him?” Julie said.

Joe walked up, smiling again. “I didn't know anything, but I imagine that I can guess. McCoy bought him for you, right?”

Julie glanced at Joe and shrugged. “Yes, McCoy gave him to me.”

“The guy doesn't believe in flowers or candy, huh?” Patty said, still studying the dog. She gazed at Julie again. “Is he hideous or beautiful? I'll be damned if I can tell.”

Joe laughed. “Shepherd and Rottweiler, I think. Look at that head! What does he eat?”

“Anything and everything, so it seems,” Julie said with a sigh. He was a great dog, really. He was house-broken, and he did have the biggest, most soulful brown eyes she had ever seen in that huge head of his.

But last night he hadn't liked being kept downstairs while Julie slept. He'd found one of her old slippers and chewed it into pulp.

“What's his name?” Joe asked.

“Rusty.”

“Hello, Rusty,” Patty said.

Rusty growled.

“Never mind, Rusty.”

“There's nothing wrong, is there?” Julie asked, looking from one to the other. “Did Petty send for me for some reason or another? You know, he can just call. He doesn't need to send you two out all of the time.”

“Petty didn't send us at all,” Patty told her.

“McCoy asked us to come out.”

“McCoy!” Julie said, startled. But then it all made sense. He wasn't coming around himself. He was going to do his best to distance himself from her.

He was worried about her, though. So he'd given her a dog, and now he was sending out his troops.

Patty shrugged. “I told him that I'd call you, but he wanted us to come out and take a look around. Who knows, maybe he wants someone to see that police cruisers can be at your house quickly.”

“Maybe,” Julie murmured. She gritted her teeth, wondering why it hurt so badly that McCoy suddenly seemed so determined to shake her off. She should be furious. He was absolutely incredible. He came on like a cyclone. He seemed to be following her wherever she went, and he had appeared at the lunch table when she had least wanted him to do so.

And then her house …

The sweet tension had been there. The electric need. And he had seemed to want her so damned badly …

But as soon as that tempest had ended, he had withdrawn. Completely.

“Well,” she said brightly, determined not to let anyone see that she could be affected by Robert McCoy in any way, shape, or form. “What are you two up to now?” She gazed at her watch. “It's past six. Want to come in for a while?”

“I'm not so sure that we can,” Joe said, laughing. He pointed at Rusty, who had lodged his bulk in front of Julie's door.

“Rusty!” Julie moaned. “Give me a second. I'll put him in the basement.”

Rusty whined and cast all his weight on his haunches, but Julie was determined. She dragged the huge dog through the front door, the entryway, and into the kitchen. She panted as she held him by the collar and opened the basement door. “I'm sorry, Rusty, but you just can't be nasty to my friends like that!”

When she turned around, Joe and Patty had followed her into the kitchen. Patty was in the refrigerator. “What have you got that's cold?”

“Are you off duty?” Julie asked.

“Yep. You were our last official project. You're fine. At least, she looks fine to me,” Patty said.

“Looks great to me,” Joe agreed. “Have you got any cold beer in there?”

Julie stepped around Patty and found a can of beer and tossed it over to Joe. “White Zinfandel, white Zinfandel,” Patty murmured.

“Boy, she's even specific,” Julie moaned to Joe.

“Hey, Patty, beggars are not supposed to be choosers,” Joe reprimanded her.

“But I know she's got it in here somewhere—beyond all the green stuff,” Patty teased.

“Move!” Julie commanded. She found the wine and poured a glass for Patty, then sat on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. “How are things going?” she asked.

Joe shrugged. “There was a break-in at Mike Geary's souvenir store,” he said.

She shook her head. “I'm talking about the kidnapping. Or kidnappings. Any news?”

Joe shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Something happened yesterday.”

“What?” Julie demanded.

“Yeah, what?” Joe echoed.

Patty stared at him incredulously. “You didn't hear? Oh,
I
can't believe I forgot to tell you. I was alone in the office with McCoy when somebody called and asked to speak with him. I didn't think anything of it at first. Then all of a sudden McCoy is waving at me madly, indicating that I should get a trace going on the call. I tried, but I'd barely gotten things started before the caller hung up.”

“The kidnapper?” Julie said.

“I imagine. Or else somebody claiming to be the kidnapper.”

“What did he say?” Julie asked.

“I didn't get a chance to hear—”

“Well, what did McCoy say?”

“McCoy didn't say anything, not to me. He was closeted with Petty this morning for awhile, so I guess the two of them really hashed it out. Whatever he said, though, it disturbed the hell out of McCoy.”

Julie stared at Joe. He shrugged helplessly. “This is the first that I'm hearing about it, too.”

“Well, they must be trying to keep a really low profile,” Julie mused. “But—how could he be sure it was the kidnapper?”

“I think,” Patty told her, pulling up a bar stool, “that McCoy had no doubt. Don't forget, Julie, McCoy listened to the kidnapper's voice time and time again on the night you two went from phone booth to phone booth trying to find Tracy Nicholson.”

“I had forgotten,” Julie said thoughtfully. She shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe he's just trying to make sure that he doesn't say anything to the two of you, or to Timothy, or even Petty—anyone who might say something to me. He's probably afraid that. I hear things and then imagine that they're part of my abilities.”

“Oh, don't take it that way!” Patty said.

“And why not?”

Patty paused, blinked, then shrugged. “He must think a great deal of you.”

“He must,” Joe agreed cheerfully. He leaned on the counter, cupping his chin in his hand. “Hey, kid, that's an expensive dog he bought for you!”

“Yeah, boy,” Patty agreed. “I didn't even know that you were actually dating.”

“I don't think that we are actually dating,” Julie said. She didn't want to discuss it any longer. She leaped off her seat. “So, Patty, are we going to see a movie, or what? I'm sorry, Joe, do you want to join us?”

“No, thanks,” he said. “I've got plans.”

“I think he has a very hot date, but he doesn't want to tell me about it,” Patty moaned.

“Yeah. Every law-enforcement official in the next three states will be talking about my love life if I tell Patty anything,” Joe said flatly.

“Oh, come now!” Patty protested.

“Timothy Riker went out with a Las Vegas showgirl last year and I swear, they knew about it in Maine,” Joe told Julie. “Ladies, with that, I am leaving. Have a nice night.” He paused a moment. “Hey, Julie, will you see that my partner here makes it home?”

“Of course,” Julie assured him. He waved again. Patty made a face at him, and he was gone.

“What do you want to see?” Patty asked Julie. “Have you got a newspaper around here?”

Julie indicated the newspaper at the end of the counter. Patty started looking through it. “I wanted to go home and take a shower,” she murmured. “But if we want to eat first—do we want to eat first?”

“Yes,” Julie said. “And I want to eat somewhere with lots of alfalfa sprouts.”

“Alfalfa sprouts?” Patty said.

“Never mind,” Julie murmured. “How about seafood?”

“Whatever,” Patty said, poring over the movie section. “Comedy? History? Drama, suspense, murder—no, no murder. How about the new thing they've been advertising—”

“Comedy?” Julie asked.

“Yeah.”

“Perfect,” Julie agreed. She wanted to see something she could just sit through. Her concentration probably wouldn't be the best. She glanced at her watch. “Hey, we'd probably best be getting a move on here. Although, if you want to shower here, there's probably time. You can find something of mine to wear, and we can still make dinner in plenty of time if we go to that seafood place right by the theater.”

“Well, it sounds like a hunk of heaven,” Patty said dryly. “All I'd need is a good-looking guy to go with it.”

“They're not all that they're cracked up to be,” Julie said.

“I'd like the chance to find out,” Patty said with a laugh. Then her eyes twinkled with merriment as she studied Julie. “I just can't wait to get all the dirt on McCoy. Is the feud over? What do you mean, you're not dating? Just flat out sleeping together? What's he like in bed? Is he just great?”