Watch Me (7 page)

Several flies escaped as he walked in. Bees hovered amid the kudzu that had taken over the front planter areas. The yard smelled like warm earth, but a far less pleasant scent emanated from the kitchen, where Cain discovered a brown-paper sack of groceries sitting on the counter. Blood soaked the bottom of the bag.

After what he’d seen the night he rescued Sheridan, the sight made him uneasy. Surely whoever had dragged her out of here hadn’t left some sort of disgusting present….

No, the police would’ve found it first. He’d obviously seen too many horror movies.

A quick inventory of the contents revealed nothing worse than a pound of spoiled hamburger. Apparently, whoever attacked Sheridan had made his move just after she’d returned from the grocery store. Maybe he’d followed her home.

He frowned as he noticed blood spatter on the kitchen window and could instantly tell that it had nothing to do with the rotting meat. There’d been a struggle here. A chair had been knocked over. Everything in Sheridan’s purse was spilled out on the floor. Even the fridge doors were hanging open. The rattling, overworked motor managed to provide a faint puff of cool air in the otherwise stifling room, if he stood right in front of it, but the ice cream in the freezer had melted. And water pooled underneath. The police hadn’t bothered to turn off the radio and close the fridge?

“Callous assholes,” he muttered. Amy had probably left it this way on purpose. She wasn’t happy about
Sheridan’s staying at Cain’s place. But seeing the house exactly as it’d been the night Sheridan had been attacked gave him a clearer sense of what’d happened. At least he knew where the trouble had started.

Unfolding one of the paper sacks Sheridan had emptied before being interrupted, Cain began picking up the cosmetics, papers, pens and other things that’d been in her purse. Her compact was cracked, a tube of lipstick had melted and the battery in her phone was out of power. He wondered if her friends and family were trying to reach her, what they must be thinking after so long without word.

As he stood to go in search of her luggage and cell phone charger, he spotted a wallet he’d missed. After dragging it out from under the table, he realized it contained photos—photos he had no business seeing, but he was curious enough to look at them anyway.

There was a picture of her younger sister in a wedding dress, her parents standing by a Christmas tree, and her with two other women posing in front of a glass door that read
The Last Stand
. When he saw a picture of Sheridan sitting at a formal event with a man who had his arm around her, he took an extra second to study their body language. Was this man significant to her? Was he worried because she hadn’t been in touch?
Had he made love to her the way Cain had twelve years ago?

Shoving that question—and the persistent memory that went with it—to the back of his mind, he flipped to the next photo. And froze. It was Jason’s sophomore picture.

Why was she walking around with a constant reminder of what she’d been through?

The sadness of his stepbrother’s death hit Cain as
hard as it had the day it’d happened, as if no time had passed at all. Jason had been the best kid Cain had ever known. He’d been more positive and functional than Robert, more socially adept than Owen. He’d been the all-American athlete, the guy who should’ve been voted Most Likely to Succeed—had he lived to graduate.

Cain could still remember Jason’s excitement over having a date with Sheridan. He could also remember the gnawing jealousy—

“Hey, anyone home?” a male voice called.

Cain put the photo book in the bag. “Come in.”

The creak of footsteps sounded in the hall before Tiger Chandler ducked his head into the kitchen. “I thought that was your truck. There goes the neighborhood, eh?”

Cain returned his smile. “It went to hell a long time before I got here.”

“No kidding.” Although Tiger wasn’t the kind of guy who went to the gym, he had a stocky build and was naturally strong. Cain had seen him in a bar fight and knew he could be formidable. “You the cleanup crew?”

“More or less.”

He wrinkled a nose that was too small for his face. “Smells like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Smelled fine till you came along.” Cain grinned as he used a paper towel to wipe the melted lipstick off his hands.

Tiger rubbed the blond tips of his bleached hair, which he’d gelled into spikes. “I didn’t think you were the type to play with makeup.”

Cain righted the fallen chairs. “Don’t worry. I left the panties and high heels for you.”

Tiger laughed, but sobered as his eyes wandered around. “So this is where it happened, huh?”

“Looks that way to me.”

“She’d only been in town for a night and a day. How’s that for a welcome party?”

Taking a rag from the drawer next to the sink, Cain began wiping off the table. “How do you know how long she was in town? Did you talk to her?”

“No, Amy got the date from the contract on Sheridan’s rental car.”

“Whoever did this moved fast.”

Tiger’s expression turned grim. “He definitely came with a purpose in mind.”

“The question is
why?
Why Sheridan? Why now?”

“I can’t tell you. I mean, we didn’t part friends.” He seemed to realize that put him in Sheridan’s “enemy camp.” “But I’d never attack her,” he added.

Cain set the sack with her belongings on the table he’d just cleaned and dusted off the chairs. “Have you had
any
contact with her over the years?”

“Nope. I don’t think anyone has. She was pretty freaked out when she left. The whole family was. They packed up and took off and never looked back.”

He tossed the rag into the sink. “She’d been shot for no reason. And she watched my stepbrother die. That would be traumatic for anyone.” Steeling himself against the stench, Cain got another sack, placed the spoiled meat inside and carried it out to the garbage.

“So what’s she like?” Tiger asked when he came back. “Has she changed much?”

She’d grown more beautiful. And she probably
wasn’t as sexually inexperienced. But Cain wasn’t about to speak those thoughts aloud. Finding a broom in the utility closet near the entrance to the garage, he started sweeping. “I don’t know. She’s been pretty incoherent since it happened.”

“It’s interesting that she’s at your place.”

“Why?” Cain paused to glance up at him.

“I always thought maybe she had a thing for you.”

No. She’d been trying to get back at her controlling parents by doing exactly what they were afraid she’d do. At least, that was what Cain liked to tell himself. It was the only explanation that made him feel better about ignoring her after such an encounter. Acknowledging that she was infatuated with him made him feel too guilty. “Why did you think that?”

“When she broke up with me, she told me she liked someone else, but then she never got with anybody. Any other guy would’ve snapped her up in a minute.”

Cain went back to sweeping. “That was just an excuse to get rid of you.”

Tiger didn’t go for the joke. “Maybe, but her little sister made an interesting comment once.”

Cain wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what it was. The trust Sheridan had handed him that long-ago night had terrified him. He’d rather not have any proof that there was real feeling behind it. That would only make it harder to convince himself she was merely rebelling. “Little sisters say a lot of things.”

Tiger hesitated, then appeared to shrug it off. “Right. You two were so different in high school, I could never imagine you together.”

Neither could Cain. And yet…

“It’s nice of you to do this for her,” Tiger said.

Why
was
he doing it? Why was he letting himself get more and more involved? He could hear the question in Tiger’s voice, but he didn’t completely understand, either. Maybe it was because, for the first time in her life, the girl who’d had it all needed someone—needed
him
. “It wouldn’t be pleasant to come home to this after everything she’s gone through.”

“She’s coming back here, then?”

“I’m assuming she will, when she’s strong enough.”

“Would you mind if I stopped by your place to visit her sometime?”

Cain didn’t want anyone bothering her. Not for a few days. But he knew Tiger would misinterpret simple concern for her well-being as something more if he said no. “Of course not.”

“Okay, I’ll see you around.”

After Tiger left, Cain finished dusting, vacuuming and scrubbing. Then he packed her luggage, hauled it out of the bedroom and locked up. He hadn’t been able to find Sheridan’s phone charger and was just wondering if she might’ve forgotten it in California, when he opened the door of his truck and found a gigantic box of condoms on the seat.

There was a note on top. And he was pretty sure it was Amy who’d written it.
At least wait until she can walk…

J
ohn Wyatt hadn’t been sleeping well, so he’d taken a week’s vacation from his janitorial job over at the high school. He’d been at the school for so many years, he had plenty of vacation time and needed to use some of it anyway. But he should’ve settled for a day or two. Anything more left him with too much free time. He had no idea how long he’d been staring at the picture of the son he’d loved more than anything in the world. He only knew Jason was gone. For good.

Sometimes, even after twelve
years
, it was hard for John to believe that. He’d wake up in the morning, thinking he had a son who was everything a man could ever want, a son of whom he could be proud. And then he’d realize that the only children he had now were Robert, who wasn’t much to admire at all, and Owen, who was so intellectual and reserved he was almost…
odd
. He didn’t count Cain, of course. John had never counted his stepson.

He shifted his eyes to the small box he held in one hand, hesitated, then flipped open the lid. A half-carat diamond ring sparkled against a blue velvet background. He’d bought it for his girlfriend, Karen, nearly
a month ago. He’d planned on asking her to marry him, planned on walking into her classroom in the middle of her high-school English class and proposing in front of all her students. He knew the kids would get a kick out of that, knew she’d enjoy the attention. She deserved something big like that for her first proposal.

But that was before the rifle that’d killed Jason had been found in Cain’s cabin.

With a bitter chuckle, John snapped the lid shut and got up to toss the ring back into his underwear drawer. He’d propose eventually. He and Karen were meant to be together. She was the reward he deserved for all the years of unhappiness since his first wife died giving birth to Robert.

It wasn’t the right time for an engagement. The news wouldn’t make the big splash he’d anticipated. It couldn’t compete with that rifle reappearing, and the return of poor little Sheridan Kohl.

A fresh wave of hatred made him clench his teeth. It was
her
fault Jason had been at Rocky Point in the first place. Her fault—and Cain’s—that Jason was dead. That was enough to hold against his stepson, but Cain was responsible for even more than that. He’d ruined John’s second marriage. How often had Julia taken her son’s side in an argument? Practically always. Julia wasn’t nearly as docile as his first wife. John had been happy with Linda. If he’d had his choice, they’d be married to this day. Then none of these terrible things would’ve happened. He wouldn’t have met Julia at that cheesy strip bar in Nashville where she worked as a waitress, and fallen for her beauty. He wouldn’t have
had to take care of her while she died of breast cancer. He wouldn’t have been saddled with a stepson he’d never even liked. He wouldn’t have had to suffer his own father’s many reprimands for “not treating Cain fair.”

But it was losing Jason that ate at him, that made it almost impossible to look at Cain.

The phone rang.

Dropping onto his bed, John glanced at Caller ID, then picked up. It was Karen.

“Aren’t you coming to get me for lunch?” she asked.

John blinked, suddenly aware that quite a lot of time must’ve passed without his noticing. His eyes cut to the digital alarm clock. Sure enough, it was after noon. Sometimes he got so caught up in his thoughts he lost track of the present. That he’d done so
again
frightened him. Was it the beginning of Alzheimer’s?

God, he didn’t want to be like Marshall, didn’t want to end up being pitied by his own children. “Yeah, ah, of course,” he said, trying to regain his mental footing.

“Then, where are you? Don’t tell me you got involved with your welding again.”

He’d started a side business via the Internet, selling lawn decorations he fashioned out of scrap metal and made to look like animals. Usually he just spent Saturday mornings in his welding shed, but he was doing more work there now that he had some time off. “Actually, I did.” He didn’t want to tell her he’d forgotten their date; it was only a half hour ago that he’d sent a text to let her know he was coming. And she was fifteen years younger than he was. He didn’t want to scare her, make her fear he had mental problems. Then she’d never marry him.

“Where’s your cell? I called, but you didn’t answer.”

It was in the living room, where he couldn’t hear it. “I must have the ringer turned off.”

“Well, turn it on. And hurry. I’m not going to have time if you don’t get here right away.”

Massaging his temples, he told himself other people occasionally forgot lunch appointments, too. “I’ll be there in five minutes,” he promised.

Judging by the brightness outside her window, it was at least late morning, maybe early afternoon, during her first day at Cain’s. But Sheridan heard no one in the house. She lay there for several minutes, listening to complete silence. Was she alone?

Rolling onto her side, she checked the nightstand for a phone.

There wasn’t one. She was in a guest bedroom that probably saw little use; she could understand why it might not have an extension. But she wanted to call The Last Stand, to talk to Jonathan or Skye or Ava, and follow up with a call to Jasmine.

What would she tell them? They’d all advised her not to come back to Whiterock. Jon, especially, insisted there was only pain and misery for her here. He didn’t believe a rifle devoid of prints would yield any new evidence. But Sheridan had wanted answers badly enough to make the trip despite that. And now she was lying injured in Cain’s spare bed. Once her friends heard, they’d either rush to her side, which was impractical now that most of them had families of their own, or plead with her to return.

Sheridan didn’t welcome either response. She refused to interrupt their lives, since this had been her own decision in the first place. And she wasn’t about to return before she was ready. The attack on her had created more questions—and more determination to answer those questions.

Almost glad she didn’t have access to a phone, after all, because it put off having to tell her friends, she smoothed down her hair with both hands and called out, “Hello? Anyone home?”

She hated being so dependent and helpless, hated feeling that she was causing Cain more work and trouble than she had any right to expect from an old acquaintance, but she needed a drink, and both he and the doctor had warned her not to get up by herself.

Fortunately, Cain didn’t seem to mind the extra trouble. From the gentleness with which he’d fed her and helped her sponge-bathe last night, she got the impression he enjoyed caring for her, the same way he enjoyed caring for all the other living creatures on his property. At the very least, he took it in his stride.

No one answered her call, but a black snout poked through her half-open door and she realized she was about to meet one of Cain’s dogs.

“Hello,” she said, but the hound didn’t come in right away. He hesitated as if waiting to see if Cain would respond with an order
not
to enter. When that didn’t happen, he widened the opening by wiggling his body and came in. Then he stood there, cocking his head to one side, apparently trying to figure out who she was and why she was in his master’s house.

“You must be one of the dogs that saved my life.”

A tall, thin man with a boy’s bushy hair and a pair of nerdy glasses—a man who could only be Owen—stepped into the room behind the dog, carrying a tray with a cup and a bowl on it. “This is Koda.”

She shifted in the bed. “From what I hear, I owe him a lot.”

“He’s a good dog, but it wouldn’t matter even if he wasn’t. Cain can turn any hound into a good dog, make him obey with a whistle or a nod. The hounds I used to own would never shut up, and they raced after anything with a scent.” He paused thoughtfully. “As a matter of fact, Koda used to be mine. He wouldn’t do a thing I told him. But if Cain asked him not to eat, he’d voluntarily starve to death.”

She tried not to laugh—it hurt her head—but she chuckled. “How’ve you been, Owen?”

“Better than you, for the past week or so, anyway.”

“That wouldn’t be hard.”

“No.”

“Cain tells me you have a stellar wife and a couple of kids.”

His cheeks reddened. “I have a few more mouths to feed.”

Sheridan smiled, mildly surprised to see how much more successfully Owen could relate on a social level now that he’d matured. In high school he’d been so much younger than the other students. He’d always avoided one-on-one interaction, preferring to keep to himself or hover at the fringes of a group. If Sheridan ever approached him, he’d stare at his shoes and mumble monosyllabic responses in a mostly one-sided conversation.

“He said your wife keeps you on track.”

“Only because I don’t dare cross her.” He grinned as he put the tray on a nightstand that was extra-large and as masculine as the rest of Cain’s furniture. From what Sheridan had seen, in Cain’s home comfort won out over style. Yet there was a woodsy, cabinlike atmosphere throughout, and every room was clean.

“You’ve brought lunch, I see,” she said.

“Cain had to go to town. He asked me to look after you—and gave me strict instructions that I was to wake you and have you eat if you weren’t up by noon. I was giving you five more minutes, so your timing’s good.”

“Is he a paramedic or a vet or something?” Other than ascertaining that he wasn’t a cop, she hadn’t questioned Cain about what he did for a living. She’d either been loopy with drugs or too preoccupied with doubts and fears about her recovery. But the care he’d shown her from the beginning suggested he had more confidence in dealing with injuries than most people did.

“No, he works for the Tennessee Wildlife Resources Agency. He looks after the large tract of public land adjacent to this property.”

“The forest?”

“The main body of it. In addition to that, he patches up other people’s animals—any animals, really—just because he’s good at it. Fortunately, he hasn’t yet put me out of business by turning his talents to healing people,” he added with a rueful smile.

“So I’m an exception?” She was now officially “Cain’s patient,” it seemed.

“You’re just another bird with an injured wing,” he
said. “And the good news is that Cain always opens the cage when you’re ready to fly.”

Sheridan didn’t know how to respond to such a strange comment. Did Owen intend more warning than reassurance? Sheridan thought so. “What happened between him and Amy?” she asked.

Koda gave a low growl, as if he didn’t like the conversation, but a quick glance in his direction confirmed that he was just interested in her food.

“Go gnaw on the furniture,” Owen told him, but Koda merely sat down and wagged his tail.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to convince him to do anything Cain wouldn’t like,” she said between spoonfuls.

“I couldn’t get him to obey me at all. That’s why I gave him to Cain.”

She swallowed before sending him a hopeful smile. “Are you going to tell me about Amy?”

He seemed annoyed by the question. “Why do you want to know about Amy?”

The sudden change in his manner made Sheridan frown. “Basic curiosity. I’ve been gone for twelve years. Last I knew, she was following him around like a lovesick fool, but he wasn’t interested.”

“He was interested enough to get her pregnant.”

A latent twinge of jealousy clamped down hard but she managed to smile through it. “Is that why he married her?”

“It wasn’t for love.”

“You don’t think she tried to trap him, do you?”

“With Amy, who knows? She’d do anything to have him, even now.”

Based on what she’d seen, Sheridan agreed. “So…is the child living with her?”

“She miscarried a few weeks after they eloped.”

“Does anyone know for sure if the baby was real? She could’ve made that up.”

“Cain’s not stupid,” he said. “He went with her to get an ultrasound before he married her. There was a baby.”

“Was he excited at all? About the baby, I mean?”

“I don’t think excited would be the right word.”

She pushed her hair away from her eyes. “So what did he do after she miscarried?”

“He divorced her.”

“The miscarriage didn’t make him sad?”

“Cain didn’t talk to me about it. He’s very private, so I doubt he talked to anyone. But I’d guess he was so young that one ultrasound wasn’t enough to make it real. He acted like the pregnancy was an obligation. An obligation from which he was granted a reprieve.”

“So he was relieved.”

“I had the impression he was very relieved. He did mention to me once that his relationship with Amy wouldn’t provide a very strong foundation for a family. But of course we already knew that.”

“His desertion must’ve hurt Amy.” Sheridan felt sorry for her. But if Amy had gotten pregnant intentionally, she should’ve expected problems. Trying to corner a man like Cain was beyond risky; it was downright foolhardy.

“Judging by her bitterness, I’m sure it did.”

“So…”

He lifted a hand to silence her. “If you stick around long enough you’ll hear plenty about Cain and Amy.
She won’t let go of the past, won’t let go of
him.
” Taking a break from the soup, he helped her drink some warm beverage she didn’t recognize.

“What’s this?”

“Cain’s own blend of herbs brewed into a tea.”

“Not bad, considering it’s medicinal.”

Owen set it aside. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Are you married?”

She wanted to feed herself, but her movements weren’t steady enough for soup and she was afraid she’d dribble it all over the bedding. The beating had impaired her motor skills, which gave her one more thing to worry about. “Nope. Not even dating.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve let my work take over.” It was a sad commentary on the state of her life at twenty-eight, but The Last Stand had become her only passion. She and Skye and their new partner Ava, who’d started a few months ago, worked night and day, and it still wasn’t enough to meet the tremendous need for the services they provided.

And now she couldn’t work at all. Not for a while.