The Investigator (28 page)

Kate’s breath halted, then rushed out through her mouth. She snatched another and tried to still her thumping heart.

She was being silly.
It was broad daylight—well, as good as. The afternoon shadows had lengthened outside the building, heralding the evening to come, but there was still enough light to deter someone with villainous intent.
Wasn’t there?

Her legs were concrete pylons, but she forced them forward and with a trembling finger, inched the curtain aside. Catching a glimpse of navy suit pants and shiny black boots, she collapsed with relief against the doorframe.

Riley
.

Fumbling with the lock on the deadbolt, she unlatched it and swung open the door.

CHAPTER 23

“Hello, Kathryn.”

Kate took a step backwards, confusion warring with fear. Commander Hannaford’s smile was wide and welcoming—and reminded her of a snake waiting for its prey. She tried to hide her unease beneath a veneer of bravado.

“Commander Hannaford, what a surprise. What are you doing here?”

The smile remained in place, but the midnight-black eyes were full of menacing speculation.

“I was out playing a few rounds of golf with your stepfather a little while ago. We were talking about you. He misses you, you know.” He stepped closer and his voice lowered. “I found myself in your neighborhood and thought I’d pay you a visit.”

Kate’s stomach dropped. She pressed her knees tighter together to stop their trembling and vowed not to reveal her fear. Hannaford and Darryl. Nothing about that image was comforting.

He lifted a hand to pat back an errant strand of graying hair. The dying sunlight glinted off an ornate gold ring on the middle finger of his right hand. Horror struck her like a physical blow.

Rearing backwards, she slammed the door in his face, her heart thumping. She twisted and turned, mindless with fear.

Oh God, it was him
.

Memories bombarded her. The flash of gold. The distinctive stone. Fear and loathing tore at her insides. More than a decade ago, Hannaford had played a part in her pain and humiliation.

She raced to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet bowl, just as the nausea hit the back of her throat and spurted out in hot, acidic bursts. She’d had nothing to eat since the slice of tea cake Daisy had served that morning, but it didn’t deter her rebellious stomach.

Kneeling on the cold tiles, Kate held her hair away from her face and gripped the toilet bowl with the other hand. Tears streamed down her face. The acrid taste of vomit burned her throat. She gulped and choked and howled and heaved as the memories overtook her.

She didn’t know how long she lay on the floor, but the light in the room was dim when she found the strength to stand. Tearing off her clothes, she stood under the shower. With the water as hot as she could make it, she scrubbed every inch of her body, shampooed her hair and then started all over again.

Her arms ached when she finally pulled on her nightdress and crawled into bed. The hot water had stopped the shivering, but a frozen knot of dread and despair had lodged deep inside her and no amount of hot water was going to thaw that.

Tugging at the comforter, she pulled it over her shoulders and half of her face, barely leaving enough room for breathing. She forced images of Hannaford and his gold ring from her mind and tried to focus on Riley. She longed to have him beside her, offering comfort, keeping her safe.

She reached out and felt around for the phone that had fallen to the floor. Her fingers closed around it and she checked it for messages.

Nothing.

He was probably busy. Hopefully he’d discovered something that would lead them to her mother.

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. The tiniest flicker of hope still remained that they would find Rosemary alive, hiding somewhere safe, but it was growing dimmer by the day. Kate was surer than ever that Darryl had murdered her. If they didn’t catch a break soon, they might never find her or bring him to justice.

There was no way her stepfather would confess. He was as tough as the most hardened criminal and knew all the ways there were to outsmart the police. Unless they found evidence to take him to trial, he’d get away with her mother’s murder, just like he’d gotten away with the things he’d done to Kate.

The coldness inside her expanded and the agony of it intensified. She doubled over under the covers, cradling her stomach in both hands. A moan of anguish escaped her lips and she rocked against the torture of it.

The press of hard, cold metal against her temple startled her. She froze.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you and you’ll disappear just like your fucking mother did.”

Fear pounded through her veins and turned her limbs leaden. She squinted through the dimness and made out Darryl’s bulky shape. The dim light from the laptop glinted off the barrel of a sinister-looking handgun.

“Wh-what are you doing? H-how did you get in?” Kate hated the trembling in her voice, but was powerless to stop it.

Darryl sneered. “The door was unlocked, my dear Kathryn. You really should be more careful. The country’s not as safe as it used to be. Watervale’s been experiencing a veritable crime spree of late—haven’t you heard?” His broad chest rumbled with laughter.

Terror scattered her thoughts. Had Darryl admitted he’d killed her mother? It had surely sounded like it. Unbearable pain coursed through her like fever. She was burning from the inside out and there was nothing she could do about it.

She groaned from the agony of it and tried to draw her legs up beneath her. Darryl’s weight held the bedcovers tightly in place. He leaned closer.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me.” He pressed the gun harder against her temple.

Kate whimpered. “You
bastard
. You killed her! I knew all along it was you. There’s no way she would have left without telling me.”

Darryl’s eyes glinted maliciously. “That’s where you’re wrong, you silly little slut. She was going to leave. Scamper off without a word. I heard about her crazy little plan. My mate Barry knows all about loyalty. A lot more than your mother.”

Kate defied the gun still pressed against the side of her head and threw him a scornful look. “You think you’re so smart. You think you’ll get away with it. But you’re not going to keep me quiet. Not anymore.”

Guffaws of laughter rumbled out of his chest, but his gun hand remained steady. “You always were a feisty one. I loved that about you. I hate to disillusion you, but even if I do let you live and you tell the world, who do you think’s going to believe you, you stupid little bitch? The police force you’re so eager to run to with your tales is made up of my friends. Every one of them owes me a favor or three. All but that new black prick, and he’s hardly going to stand against my mates. A quiet word in the right ear and he’ll be transferred to the middle of nowhere—again. He won’t even get a job cleaning toilets by the time I’ve finished with him.”

His smug words ignited a white-hot anger deep inside her. The fact he was right made it even worse.

“You might think you’ll get away with one murder, but there’s no way your cronies will tolerate two.”

His eyes gleamed and a smile that made her skin crawl turned up his lips. He caressed the side of her neck with the gun as his words slid over her.

“I guess I don’t have to shoot you. I’m sure we could always negotiate a mutually satisfying arrangement.” The gun slid lower, the tip of its barrel burying itself between her breasts, naked beneath her nightgown. “There are plenty of other ways to keep you quiet, don’t you think?”

Sheer terror paralyzed her. She clamped her mouth shut against a fresh bout of nausea. Her fingers hurt from their death grip on the bedclothes. She barely dared to breathe as he used the cold, steel barrel to slide the strap of her nightdress off her shoulder.

The satin fell down her arm. A tiny whimper escaped her tightly closed mouth and she hated herself for showing him her fear. She was fourteen all over again, powerless and afraid.

No, she wasn’t
.

She wasn’t fourteen and she wasn’t going to let him make her feel that way all over again. In some still-sane part of her mind, she guessed he’d have shot her already, if that had been his plan. And he must know she was right when she’d said two murders would look suspicious.

He wasn’t going to kill her. Not right now, anyway. He was toying with her, screwing with her head, like he always had.

But it wasn’t going to work. Not this time.

With a guttural growl, Kate hurled the bedclothes toward him, catching him off guard. Springing from the bed, she bounded across the room. Knowing the search for a weapon would be futile, she armed herself with venom.

“Get the fuck out, you filthy, murdering bastard.” Spittle flew from her lips. Her eyes burned into his. “Go ahead, shoot me. I
dare
you.”

Darryl raised his gun hand so she was in his line of sight. Kate’s breath caught in her throat. The dull gleam of the barrel in the meager light looked even more menacing. Trying to ignore the fear that immobilized her, she lifted her chin and stared at Darryl, putting all the hatred she felt for him into a single deadly look.

“
Do it
.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper in the utter stillness.

Darryl stared at her, unmoving. For long moments, the only sound in the room was their harsh breathing. The hand holding the gun wavered and then lowered. Darryl’s gaze fell away.

She swallowed the surge of relief that threatened to undo her and strode to the door. Flinging it open, she stepped well away as Darryl stalked toward her. His lower lip was thrust out and fury glittered in his eyes. He looked like a child who’d been bested in a game, but Kate didn’t make the mistake of thinking she’d won. A wounded animal would be even more ferocious at the next encounter.

His sleeve brushed her bare arm and she shivered and tore it away. With a final deadly stare in her direction, he strode out of the room. She slammed the door behind him and this time made double-sure the deadlock and chain was secured. After drawing the curtains, she collapsed onto the bed and gave in to the shock that seized her.

Shivering violently, she tugged at the covers and rolled herself in them, rocking back and forth in an effort to get warm. She kept hearing Darryl’s voice, whispering, tormenting. Over and over she saw the gun waving under her nose like an evil black flag.

Clamping her hands around her ears, she screwed her eyes tightly shut, trying to block the sounds and images that threatened to overwhelm her. A low moan started deep inside her and climbed up her throat. Burying her head in the pillows, she screamed and screamed and screamed.

CHAPTER 24

Riley pulled up outside Kate’s motel room and cut the engine. It was barely seven, but not a hint of light escaped from the drawn curtains. He frowned in consternation. Maybe she’d gone out?

A quick survey of the car park showed her rental car two doors down. He quickly discounted the idea that she’d walked. The temperature had dropped rapidly with the coming night, hinting at snow. It wasn’t an evening to be out in if you had a choice, even for a Londoner.

Climbing out of the car, he reached inside for his jacket and shrugged it on. With a last glance around the quiet car park, he strode to her door and knocked briskly on the wooden panel.

Silence greeted him. Moving across to the curtained window, he pressed his head against the glass and tried to see in, but the thick fabric was impenetrable. Stepping back to the door, he knocked again.

“Kate? It’s Riley. Are you in there?”

More silence. A car door closed behind him and he whirled around to see an elderly woman adjusting her seatbelt in the passenger’s side of a small sedan. An equally elderly man walked around to the driver’s side. He offered Riley a brief wave. Riley acknowledged it with an even briefer nod.

Turning back, Riley tried the door again. She had to be in there. Where else would she be, on foot, on a night like this? She’d told him it was urgent, but he’d been busy chasing up phone calls and a part of him hadn’t wanted her to think he was at her beck and call. Childish, he knew, but he was still confused about her feelings for him and was wary of getting his heart involved.

So, he’d left it for as long as he could. He’d finished his shift a little after six and had spent time catching up with the general duties officers downstairs. When he’d finally left the station, he found himself turning toward her motel. And here he was, outside her room. Only, it appeared she wasn’t in.

Pressing his ear against the door, he strained to hear something, anything, behind the closed panel.

“Kate? Please let me know if you’re in there. Just let me know you’re okay. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I just want to know you’re all right.”

He was about to walk away when he heard it—the tiniest whimper of sound, a moan, a hiccup—he wasn’t sure, but it was definitely a sound of distress. He pounded harder against the door.

“Kate, it’s me. Riley. Open up. I know you’re in there.”

He waited interminable minutes. A light came on behind the curtains. Finally, he heard the click of the lock and the jingle of the chain.

The door cracked open. A lamp on the nightstand illuminated her from behind. He reared back in shock at the sight of her.

“Christ, Kate! What the fuck happened? Are you all right?”

She looked away self-consciously and covered her swollen eyes. Her hair hung messy and loose around her drooping shoulders. She looked lost and alone. She looked defeated.

A fierce protectiveness overwhelmed him. For so long, she’d remained strong, invincible, convinced from the outset her stepfather was responsible. And now, just as the evidence was beginning to prove her right, her confidence had deserted her and in its place he saw a vulnerability that touched him more than anything ever had.

Easing the door open, he stepped inside and closed it behind him. Flicking the deadlock, he turned to face her.

She’d turned away from him and now stared blindly at the blank television screen, her arms wound tightly around her waist. He tried not to focus on the pale pink nightgown that hung in soft, satiny folds on her body.