Kitabı oku: «Obsession & Eyewitness», sayfa 3
Ignoring her questions, Colin dropped to his hands and knees just outside the crime scene tape. He trailed his fingers across the ground and peeled something from the asphalt.
Holding it up to the light, he said, “It’s another petal, a pink one this time. I think Amanda’s murderer left the petals here and the Coral Cove P.D. didn’t see them, didn’t recognize them as being out of place.”
Michelle folded her arms across her churning stomach. “You’re scaring me, Colin. What is all this about?”
The coiled intensity of his frame relaxed and he tipped his head from side to side as if to relieve a kink in his neck. “I’m sorry, Michelle. Let’s go inside.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her body flush against his. His warmth seeped into her, but her teeth insisted on chattering, anyway. Colin had suspected a link between Tiffany Gunderson’s death and Amanda’s murder, and he’d just found it.
After Michelle unlocked her front door, Colin propelled her to the couch, pressing his hand against the small of her back. “Sit.”
She sank into the corner, curling her long legs beneath her. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he released a long breath, obviously coming to some decision. “Do you remember a girl from your class named Belinda Frank?”
The name drew a visceral response from Michelle, as a sour taste flooded her mouth and her hands curled into fists. “I remember her. You talked about my being a magnet for bullies? Well, she must have had the strongest magnetic field of all because she was the worst. She was a witch.”
“Well, ding-dong, the witch is dead.”
Michelle’s jaw dropped as a confusing tumble of emotions swirled through her brain. “I—I didn’t mean… I’d never wish…”
Colin skimmed his fingertips along her cheek. “I know that. Nobody in town knew about her death?”
“The Frank family wasn’t local. They moved here Belinda’s sophomore year and then moved out after she graduated. Nobody could even locate her to send an invitation to the reunion.”
“One of the reasons they couldn’t locate her is because she changed her name to Gigi French.”
“Gigi French? Sounds like a hooker.”
“She worked as a stripper in Vegas.”
Michelle ran a hand through her tangled hair and closed her eyes. “How did she die?”
“Someone slit her throat and then showered her with rose petals.”
Choking, Michelle hid her face in her hands. “They don’t know who did it? How’d you get involved?”
“No. A buddy of mine on the Las Vegas P.D. called me because he saw the Coral Cove connection. Thought I might have known her, but she started at CCHS after I graduated. I didn’t think much about it until Tiffany Gunderson fell down that elevator shaft in San Francisco. I knew the Gunderson family, so I recognized the name.”
“But Tiffany’s death was an accident, wasn’t it?”
“I figured it was when I first heard about it, but I thought it was a weird coincidence that two young women from the same small-town high school had died violent deaths less than a month apart. So I contacted the SFPD about Tiffany’s accident, and suddenly the two deaths didn’t look like a coincidence.”
“Why?” Michelle drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs to keep them from bouncing.
“Both women graduated the same year…and there were rose petals in the elevator shaft.”
Michelle leaned her forehead on her knees, not even minding the pain from her bruises. “So the FBI sent you back home to investigate?”
Colin cleared his throat. “Not exactly.”
Turning her head to the side, Michelle asked, “What does that mean?”
“Technically, I’m on vacation. The FBI didn’t send me here.”
“Great. So this is all off the record and below the radar?”
“That’s right.”
“But now that the killer has struck again, this could be a case for the FBI. A serial killer in different states? Sounds like a job for the Feds to me.”
Colin stretched his arms above his head and yawned, and Michelle’s gaze dropped to the muscles shifting across his chest and bunching his shoulders. He looked even better than he had as a cocky teenager.
“It might be a job for the Feds, but not necessarily for this Fed. The FBI doesn’t usually assign agents to cases in their hometowns.”
“What are you going to do?” Michelle sucked in a breath and held it. She didn’t want another agent on the case. She wanted Colin Roarke to stay right here in Coral Cove. In fact, she wanted him camping outside her house.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m staying on vacation in Coral Cove, but I can use a little help since I won’t be with my regular partner. Do you have any idea why someone might be killing the female graduates of your class?”
“Me?” Michelle’s voice squeaked in a totally embarrassing manner. “You want my help?”
He tapped the side of his head. “You were the smartest girl in your class. Can you think of any reason why these three were targeted?”
“I have no idea. Tiffany and Amanda hung out with the same crowd and were both cheerleaders, but Belinda wasn’t really part of that group.” She slid her legs from beneath her and propped her feet on the coffee table. “Besides, you’re asking the wrong CCHS Dolphin. I didn’t hang with that crowd, either, and I don’t know what they might have been into. I didn’t become Amanda’s friend until later.”
“But you know who was in that clique. Can you give me a list of names?”
“Sure.” Michelle’s heart skipped a few beats at the thought of helping Colin with this case. She wanted Amanda’s killer brought to justice, and she had every confidence Colin was the man to do it.
Colin pointed to the weak light pressing against the front windows. “We’ve been up all night. I don’t know about you, but I usually need some sleep before I can function. Will you be okay here alone?”
“I’ll be fine.” Michelle scrambled from the couch. “Like you said, it’s morning, and once the news of Amanda’s murder gets out, Coral Cove Drive is going to resemble Grand Central Station. I probably won’t be alone here for days.”
“That’s a good thing.” Colin snapped his gun bag around his waist and shuffled toward the door. Grabbing the handle he turned and she almost ran into his chest. “Be careful, Michelle. You may not have run with that bunch, but you graduated with them.”
Michelle twisted her fingers in front of her. “I’ll be careful, and you need to find Amanda’s killer. She didn’t deserve that.” She waved a hand toward the street, tears pooling in her eyes, her nose stinging.
Colin hugged her, drawing her head onto his comfortable shoulder. Closing her eyes, Michelle wound her arms around his waist. He smelled tangy and fresh like the sea.
She mumbled into his chest. “Thanks for everything, Colin. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through this night without you.”
He drew back and wiped a tear from her face with the rough pad of his thumb. “I don’t know. I think I might have added to your grief and pain.”
“No. If I’m going to help Amanda, I need to know everything. And if I’m a target for this maniac, I need to know that, too.”
“You’ve turned into quite a woman, Michelle Girard.” He touched his finger to her nose, dropped it to her lips and then stepped into the overcast morning.
A few hours of fitful sleep later, Michelle stumbled into her bathroom to shower and then changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The events of last night seemed like a dream, and she crept to her front window to make sure it had all really happened.
She staggered and clutched the windowsill as the reality of Amanda’s murder hit her like a wrecking ball to the gut. A crowd of people ringed the police tape, staring at the bloodstain on the street. Amanda’s blood.
She wanted to scream at them, shoo away the vultures. While she’d been sleeping, she’d heard her doorbell ring and a few knocks on the door. They’d question her endlessly about last night.
Michelle rubbed her eyes and retreated to her kitchen, where she cooked some eggs and made toast. Once she’d eaten, she wrapped her hands around a cup of steaming tea and tiptoed to her front door again and peeked out the window.
People still mingled in the street, forming clutches of gossip groups and then breaking apart to form new groups. Michelle took a few steadying breaths before opening her front door. She’d have to face them sooner or later.
She stepped onto her front porch, taking a sip of fragrant, hot tea. The overcast morning looked a little brighter than it had the past few weeks, giving hope that the sun might struggle through today. Would Colin have another look at Columbella House by the light of day? She wanted to be there with him.
She squinted as a news van parked on the street. The newshounds sure hadn’t wasted any time. A man scrambled from the passenger side of the van and waved his hands over his head.
“Ms. Girard! Can we talk to you?”
“No!” She stepped forward, cupping her hand around her mouth and yelled again. “No!”
As her bare feet moved to the edge of her porch, her toes met some damp leaves. She glanced down. She gasped and dropped her cup.
The brown tea sailed through the air, splashing her feet…and scattering rose petals.
CHAPTER FOUR
MICHELLE STIFLED A SCREAM. She didn’t want the reporter to notice anything. Her heavy ceramic cup, its handle chipped, rocked back and forth on the porch. She crouched down, her toes inches from the petals clinging to the damp wood.
She snatched up her scarred cup and swung around, ready to grab a broom and sweep the petals from her porch. She halted midturn and closed her eyes. Evidence. Those petals represented more evidence for Colin. Not that he wouldn’t believe her, but she wanted him to see them with his own eyes.
She wanted to see him with her own eyes.
“Good morning, Michelle. Are you okay?”
Michelle looked up at the sidewalk. Tyler, Mayor Tyler Davis, plowed through the little gate, ignoring the reporters, and strode up the path, his arms swinging purposefully by his sides.
Michelle shuffled closer to the petals as if to protect them from Tyler’s wingtips. He still hadn’t figured out that he was the mayor of a small beachside town, not a big city.
“Hello, Tyler.” She curled her fingers around the chipped mug handle, the rough edge biting into her hand. “I still can’t believe it happened.”
“Amanda should’ve never left Sergeant Stewart.” He shook his head.
Michelle’s nostrils flared and her fingers tightened on the cup’s handle. “You’re not blaming Amanda for getting murdered, are you?”
“Of course not. But if she’d…” He eyed Michelle’s face, so tight she felt as if one quick grimace would shatter it. Tyler waved his hands. “It’s a terrible business, and you were so close you could’ve witnessed the whole thing if the fog hadn’t been so thick last night.”
A tingle traced a line up her spine and she hunched her shoulders. “I couldn’t see a thing. I just can’t believe it.”
“Not great timing for the summer rush, either.”
“You did not just say that.”
“Say what?”
Michelle jerked her head up and relief spread through her body like a drug. The news van was pulling away and Colin latched the gate behind him, crowding Tyler on the first step.
Tyler shuffled a few steps to the side.
Michelle leveled a finger at Tyler. “Mayor Davis here thinks Amanda’s murder is bad timing for the summer tourist season.”
Colin raised his brows and stared down at Tyler’s reddening face.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Michelle.” He thrust out his hand toward Colin. “Good to see you back in town, Roarke. Do you remember me?”
Colin clasped Tyler’s hand. “Sure, I remember the Davis family. You own a bunch of property downtown.”
“That’s right. Still do.” Tyler brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve. “I’m the mayor of Coral Cove now.”
“Are you here in an official capacity, Mayor?”
“Official?” Tyler rubbed his chin as if thinking it over. “Everything in Coral Cove is my business, but I’m here as a friend to Michelle.”
Michelle pursed her lips. She’d always figured Tyler had constituents, not friends. And right now the only friend she needed was Colin. She shifted her eyes to the damp rose petals still clinging to the porch. Then she blew out a breath.
“Thanks, Tyler, but Colin is here on official business, so…” She waved a hand vaguely in front of her as if to shoo the mayor off her porch.
Tyler captured her fingers and squeezed them in a clammy grasp. “Let us know if you need anything, Michelle.”
“I will.” She slipped her hand out of his clutches and slid the tips of her fingers in the back pocket of her shorts.
Tyler shook hands with Colin again and sauntered down the walkway, his spine stiff with self-importance.
Colin snorted. “Could the guy get any more officious?”
“Don’t ask.”
“I’m not really here on official business you know.” Colin slouched against the wooden post supporting the awning above the porch.
“Yes, you are.”
He jerked to attention. “You know something I don’t know?”
“Look down.” Michelle pointed to the petals on the porch in case Colin had forgotten his directions.
His gaze followed her pointing finger, and a quick intake of breath told Michelle he’d picked up on the significance. He crouched, his knee balancing on the first step.
“When did you notice these?”
“This morning when I came out to survey the hordes.” She tilted her chin toward the groups of people on the street, gawking around the yellow crime scene tape.
He stirred the petals with his fingertip. “They’re the same color as your roses. Someone could’ve tracked them up to your porch, carrying them on the soles of their shoes.”
Bending over to study the petals, she inhaled Colin’s fresh, masculine scent. It smelled better than the sweet roses, and her cheeks warmed when he met her gaze with his piercing blue eyes. Their intensity made her fear that he could see straight into her soul and read her thoughts.
“Well, that’s a logical explanation.” She tapped her fingernails on the chipped mug. “And here I thought a killer had left his calling card.”
Colin cupped her elbow as he rose, bringing her with him. Still maintaining eye contact, he said, “I don’t think we can rule out your first assumption.”
A tremble rolled through her body. Colin must’ve felt it because he squeezed her elbow and ran his palm up her inner arm. His touch caused her nerve endings to riot and she shivered again.
“D-do you think it’s a warning?” She pulled away from him and hugged herself. Not that Colin’s arms wouldn’t have felt a whole lot better, but he hadn’t come here to comfort her. Had he?
“I think you need to be careful.” He brushed his hands together and shoved them in the pockets of his jeans.
“I told Tyler you were here on official business just to get rid of him.” She inspected the handle of her cup so he wouldn’t see the hope in her eyes. She hadn’t been a silly twit in high school and she didn’t plan to take on that role now. “Why did you drop by?”
His hands burrowed deeper in his pockets as he hunched his shoulders. “I wanted to check up on you. Rough night.”
“Thanks.” Pleasure fizzed through her veins, pooling in all the right places. She could get used to a man like Colin Roarke looking out for her.
Michelle jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Do you want to come inside and have some coffee? Tea?”
“Sure.” He pointed at the brown puddles on the porch. “Looks like you could use more tea yourself.”
“When I saw the petals on my doorstep, I dropped my cup. It didn’t occur to me at first that someone could’ve brought them up here on the bottom of his shoe.” She shoved open the screen door, and Colin followed her into the house, dwarfing the small room with his large frame.
“You have reason to be jumpy.”
“Tea okay or are you a coffee drinker?” She held up the copper teapot.
“Tea’s fine.” He hunched over the counter, making his shoulders look broader than ever.
Looked broad enough to accommodate all her worries, but he hadn’t come here to give her an excuse to fall apart. He’d probably had a lifetime of people dependent on his strength.
“You know, I had enough people traipsing up to my door this morning. There are probably rose petals strewn up and down the entire length of my walkway.”
“I’m checking out the house today.”
“What?” She clanged the teapot onto the stove top with unexpected force.
“Columbella House. I’m checking it out. It was too dark to see anything last night, but it would’ve made a great hiding place for someone looking to get away in a hurry.”
Folding her arms, Michelle wedged her hip against the counter. “I’m coming with you.”
“You sure?”
“I’d rather know what’s over there than not.” She dug her fingers into her upper arms. “Amanda was my friend. I can’t sit around and do nothing. Maybe if I’d walked her out to her car…”
“Then you might both be dead.” He came around the counter, joining her in the kitchen, crowding her. “Don’t blame yourself, Michelle. It’s a useless exercise.”
Blue-gray clouds scudded across his eyes, veiling them. Again, she sensed a deep sadness lurking behind the confidence and courage. The caretaker in her wanted to banish his sadness.
As if she had that power.
She turned toward the cupboard and grabbed two cups from the shelf. “I guess…it’s like stories of survivors. There’s always that sense of guilt, isn’t there? I wonder if it ever completely goes away.”
Colin was so close behind her the warmth of his body penetrated her cotton T-shirt. When he spoke, his breath stirred the tendrils of her hair.
“I don’t know if it does.”
She reached for her tin of tea bags. “Earl Grey okay?”
“Earl Grey?”
She turned and Colin took a step back, blinking, as if coming out of a trance. She held up the foil pouch. “Earl Grey? You’re not much of a tea drinker, are you?”
“Coffee man.”
“You could’ve told me.” She ripped into the pouch and dropped the tea bag into a cup. “I can make coffee.”
He lifted one of those square football-player shoulders. “I’m a low-maintenance guy. Besides, I came over here to make sure you got through the night okay, not to demand breakfast.”
The kettle whistled and Michelle poured the boiling water over the tea bags. “I’m glad you stopped by, and brewing a pot of coffee would have been a small price to pay for the chance to search the house…with you.”
He thanked her for the mug of tea, and then blew on the surface of the liquid.
She averted her gaze from his puckered lips. Slurping her own tea, she burned her tongue. “Are we going to wait until the vultures out there scatter before sneaking into Columbella House?”
He crossed the room and flicked the curtains at the window. “Are they ever going to scatter?”
She joined him, her shoulder brushing his. “Believe it or not, the crowd’s a lot smaller than it was earlier.”
“We’ll go around the side of the house. Nobody has to know we’re there.”
“So we are sneaking.”
He cocked his head at her, one side of his mouth curving into a smile. “Does that make it more appealing to you?”
“This is a small town. People talk.”
“I think we’re both aware of that.”
She took a sip of her tea, hiding the bottom half of her face with the mug. “People said good things about you.”
“People say good things about you, too, Michelle. It was just your mother, and you’re not your mother.”
Not according to those emails. “I know, but when your parent screws up, the trash gets heaped on you, as well.”
“What your mom did is in the past, and I’ve heard nothing but people singing your praises since I’ve been back.”
“You must be talking to the parents of my students. They like that I hold their kids’ feet to the fire in algebra.”
He blew out a noisy breath and ruffled the back of her hair. “You make it hard on a guy to pay you a compliment.”
She ducked her head, embarrassment warming her cheeks. That’s what Amanda always used to tell her. Pain sliced through her left temple and she pressed the mug to her head.
“Are you okay?”
“Let’s get over to Columbella House and see if we can find something. Amanda didn’t deserve to die in the street like that.”
Michelle put their cups in the sink and dragged a hoodie from a hanger in the closet. “I’m sure it’s cold in that old house. I don’t think anyone’s been in there since the twins were last here.”
“And they haven’t been back?”
“Mia’s in New York and nobody’s heard from Marissa since she took off with Mia’s boyfriend.”
Colin grinned. “I remember Mia’s temper. If I were Marissa I wouldn’t come back, either.”
Michelle crouched by the front door and plucked the flashlight she’d used last night from the basket. “I don’t think the electricity is on over there.”
Colin opened the door for her. When he stepped onto the porch, he shoved the rose petals off the step with the toe of his shoe.
Michelle unlatched the front gate and pushed through, keeping to the sidewalk and avoiding the people on the street.
“Michelle!”
Darn. Not fast enough.
She cranked her head around and spotted Ned Tucker, the high school football coach, peeling away from the group.
“Did you see anything last night?”
She shook her head, shoved her hands in her pockets and continued up the sidewalk with Colin close behind her.
He took her arm. “Let’s cross here like we’re heading toward the beach path.”
On one side of Columbella House, a path led down to a rocky beach. A cave was carved out in the rocks and teenagers hung out there even as they avoided the ramshackle house.
A gate hanging from one hinge separated the sidewalk from the path, and Colin unlatched it and shuffled onto the sandy path.
Instead of taking the winding trail down to the beach, he hopped over the dilapidated fence that enclosed the side yard of Columbella House.
Although the fence was low, Colin lifted Michelle to the ground on the other side. They stood silently in the yard, listening to nothing but the sound of the waves crashing below them.
And the thud of Colin’s heart beneath her cheek.
A strange sense of lethargy seeped into Michelle’s bones. She didn’t want to move from this spot, encircled in Colin’s arms, protected, safe. Once they moved, the magic spell would dissipate like sea spray.
Colin cleared his throat and gave Michelle’s waist a squeeze. Not that he couldn’t stand here forever holding Michelle close and inhaling the scent of wildflowers that clung to her hair. “Let’s try to get in through the side door.”
She jumped back, as if his words had startled her, had dragged her out of some dreamworld. He’d gladly return there with her, but right now he had a murder to investigate. And he had to do it before his vacation ended.
He kept hold of her hand and led her through a tangle of weeds and tall grass. He motioned toward a side door sporting a broken window. “Looks like someone already had the same idea.”
He jiggled the door handle, but it was locked. “Can I borrow your sweatshirt? I promise to replace it if it rips.”
Michelle raised her brows and dangled the sweatshirt from her fingertips.
Colin tucked his hand and arm into the hood of the sweatshirt and plunged into the hole in the glass. He grappled for the dead bolt and turned it, and then felt for the door handle. He turned it once, popping the lock.
He shook out Michelle’s sweatshirt. “Thanks. Not one tear.”
“I knew there was a good reason to bring it.”
Colin opened the side door and poked his head inside the house. “It’s the kitchen.”
He stepped onto the chipped tile. Someone had already shoved aside the pieces of glass from the broken window. Considerate.
Michelle wrinkled her nose. “It smells musty.”
“Thanks to the ocean, it smells a lot better than I expected. At least that broken window let in some fresh air.” He poked around the kitchen, but the previous residents had left nothing there. “Did the twins actually live here the last time they were in town?”
Michelle opened the fridge, pinched her nose and slammed the door shut. “No. I think Mia was going to try to fix things up a bit, but after her boyfriend took off with her sister, she abandoned that idea along with the house and went back to New York.”
“Is there anything in the fridge?”
“Just that unused fridge smell.” She peered into the hallway. “No sense in searching this big house together. It’ll take half the time if we split up. Just tell me what to look for.”
“You sure you’re okay looking around here by yourself?”
Michelle straightened her shoulders. “I’m good. If there’s anyone else in here, I’ll make a run for it…and you have a gun.”
“You take the upstairs and have a look in the bedrooms and bathrooms up there. I’ll stay on this floor and head down to the basement. Just be on the lookout for anything new. I mean any sign that someone has been here recently.”
“Rose petals?”
He nodded and squeezed her hand before she headed for the staircase.
“And be careful on those stairs.” He rubbed a hand across his mouth, feeling like an idiot. Michelle was a grown woman, not a shy teen anymore.
He turned his attention to the search. Columbella House had been beautifully crafted and designed. It was a shame it had been left to ruin, but the house had a reputation.
Bad things happened here.
He snorted. He was as pathetic as the superstitious residents of Coral Cove, avoiding the house and calling for its demolition. The mayor was probably on that bandwagon.
He ran a hand along the intricately carved banister, his fingers clearing a trail in the dust. He called upstairs. “You okay up there?”
Michelle’s muffled reply floated down. “I’m okay. You?”
“Going to look around a little more and then head for the basement.”
She didn’t respond, so he finished wandering through the dining room, the living room, another sitting room, a library and a half bathroom. Nothing amiss.
He pushed open the basement door and flicked on the flashlight Michelle had given him. A flight of stairs tumbled into the darkness below. He aimed his beam of light on the first step and grasped the scarred wooden handrail. He tested the step with his weight and continued downstairs, the chilly air wrapping its fingers around him the farther he descended.
That fresh ocean breeze hadn’t permeated the depths down here. The dank smell of mold and water rot assaulted his nostrils.
When he reached the bottom step, he aimed his flashlight into the four corners of the room. The sword of light cut across generations of beach paraphernalia—tattered umbrellas, broken beach chairs, deflated inner tubes and air mattresses. Their bright colors muted and depressed by the darkness shrouding their final resting place.
Colin shuffled across the floor, his footsteps the first to imprint the dust in many years. He poked through the long-forgotten summer accoutrements. Nobody had been hiding down here.
He brushed his hands on the thighs of his jeans and turned back toward the stairs. As the beam of light tripped up the steps, something glimmered on the floor.
Colin crouched in front of the staircase and reached between the steps. He ran his fingers across the cement. They stumbled over a chain of some sort. As he scooped it up, the hair on the back of his neck quivered.
* * *
MICHELLE SMILED AS she pushed through the door of the first bedroom after the bend in the hallway. Colin’s concern for her well-being sent tingles along her skin. And the fact that he’d taken the basement sent a wave of relief through her body. No way did she want to head down those stairs into the darkness.
The bedrooms at Columbella surprised her with their order. A thick layer of dust coated everything in sight, but the grime couldn’t hide the beautiful lines of the furniture, and all the beds sported full linen, including matching bedspreads, shams and pillows.
She lifted a flounced duvet and peered under the bed. She strode to the closet and sneezed as she flung open the doors. Empty hangers swayed on a rod, boxes sat in neat rows on the floor.
She exited the room and a creaking noise from the next bedroom slowed her gait. Probably just the floorboards protesting her intrusion.
Despite her commonsense approach, her heart skittered in her chest as she eased open the door. She glanced over her shoulder, longing for Colin’s reassuring voice.
She shuffled into the room. Her gaze darted toward the bedspread, wrinkled and wavy with indentations. She ducked and peered under the bed. Dust bunnies scurried into the corner.
She slid a sidelong glance at the closet, almost wishing she could ignore the sliver between the two doors. Every other closet door in every other bedroom had been closed. Holding her breath, she tiptoed to the closet.
“Colin?” She licked her dry lips. He was probably in the bowels of the house…the spooky part. She squared her shoulders and whipped open the closet door.
Her mouth dropped open and she stumbled backward. She hit the bedpost. The jolt of the collision cut through her shock and she let loose with a scream that had to be piercing straight through the floors to the basement.
