“We’re sorry for your loss, ma’am,” Phil said.
“Thank you. As you might have guessed, Willie and I didn’t come in contact with each other very often, though God only knows I tried. Willie had...issues.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He could only imagine what plagued the man. “Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to harm your brother?”
She blew her nose. “No.”
“Did he ever mention any friends or acquaintances he might have spent time with?” Somebody had to know the company Willie kept.
She shook her head and her cheeks sagged. “Willie was a loner. He did odd jobs for people. My brother liked to dig. Dig dirt, dig for worms, dig for the sake of digging. As you probably know, he worked for Mr. Lamont at the Fair Lawn Cemetery on a regular basis.”
“We spoke with Mr. Lamont. Do you know of anyone else Willie came in contact with?”
“He shared a space by the Crosstown with Tanner Nash. His favorite spot was under the overpass on Willow Avenue.”
Hunter questioned her further about Willie’s mental state, but he didn’t learn much, other than the fact Ella Jones cared for her brother.
“If you think of anything, give me a call.” Phil handed her his card and stood.
Once outside, spunk came back into Gina’s step. She’d said nothing during the short interview.
Gina jumped into the cruiser and slammed the door. “If I ever buy a house, it won’t be formal like this one. I was afraid to sit on the furniture.”
“Then I think you might feel more comfortable where we’re going next.”
19
Kerry hadn’t been able to sit still ever since Hunter had picked her up from the morgue and taken her to the cabin in no-man’s land. Susan’s visit had diverted her thoughts from yesterday’s threatening phone call, but now the man’s eerie words, “You’ll be next,” reverberated in her head.
At first she thought the warning might be purely bravado. Perhaps he wanted people to think he was the serial killer and all he wanted was attention, but his crisp words sounded educated. Not that educated people couldn’t kill, but...aw hell, she had no idea what to think anymore.
Still, if he had nothing to do with the murders, why call her? And how did he get her number? And how did he know she was staying with Hunter?
These random thoughts were driving her crazy. Okay. She admitted it. She was turning into a paranoid idiot. In fact, every noise made her jump. This afternoon when someone had dropped a metal pan outside her autopsy room, she’d nearly had a heart attack. If that wasn’t bad enough, tonight when a cloud passed over the setting sun and cast an eerie shadow on the window she’d flinched. Twice in fact, she’d sworn she’d seen a face peering in at her.
Too bad Hunter had been doing his thing in the kitchen when the last image flashed by. Without someone else to corroborate her sighting, she had to believe she was losing her mind. After all, Hunter had claimed no one had followed them to this desolate house.
Another shadow zipped by the cabin window, and her blood pumped through her system. She must have whimpered or something because Hunter came racing out with a dishtowel in his hands.
“Are you all right?”
“It’s nothing, really.” She chuckled. “For a moment, I thought I saw something outside. Can you believe it? A bird must have been flying close to the window and cast a shadow.” Though at six thirty, the sun was low in the sky. “Go back to doing what you were doing. I’ll be okay.” Or not. Her nerves were close to doing her in.
He studied her. “I’ll check it out. Be right back.”
Before she’d had a chance to tell him her imagination was out of control, he’d tossed the towel on the dining table, slipped his gun from his holster he’d slung on the back of the chair, and disappeared outside.
Kerry waited on the sofa while Hunter investigated, her toe tapping out a beat, and her gaze never leaving the window. Why she didn’t want to press her face against the glass and look for herself was anyone’s guess.
When Hunter flung himself in front of the pane and made a funny face, her hand shot to her chest. She laughed, and then hiccupped. No pills could have been a better cure for her anxiety than seeing Hunter Markum acting silly—something she never expected from the always-in-control man.
At her smile, he ducked out of sight and returned inside. “The boogie man is not outside,” he announced with authority. “Wait here. I have something for you.”
The refrigerator door banged open and a drawer closed. Hunter jumped out of the kitchen with two beers in his hand. “Ta da.” He handed her the cold bottle.
Could she use a drink, or what? The tangy liquid raced down her throat. “That hit the spot. Thank you.” She grasped the beer bottle with both hands and settled the drink on her lap. “I can’t seem to stop the caller from getting to me. Thank you for looking around.” She stood and paced the small strip between the living room and dining room.
“No problem. I didn’t see any signs anyone had been here.” He took a swig of his drink. “Hey, we’ll get this guy. I promise.”
Her spine tingled. “I know, it’s just...”
He placed his drink on the coffee table, sidled over to her, and put her bottle down. As Hunter ran his strong hands from her shoulders to her wrists, her heart raced.
God, the man was a beautiful creature. Golden skin, blue eyes, and black, wavy hair that fell over his forehead. His musky scent raced to her brain and almost made her forget her anxiety.
“Everything will be fine,” he said in the tenderest tone.
“I know I’m out of control and that my worries are irrational, but I have this premonition this madman isn’t going to leave me alone.”
“Your concerns are real, but if we take precautions, we’ll win. Besides, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He smoothed a knuckle down her cheek.
Her heart warmed at his attention. She wanted him, but she refused to be sucked into a world that could hurt her. Hunter would leave, like everyone else she knew. His job meant the world to him.
“I feel foolish worrying you,” she said, breaking the silence between them. Hunter could protect her. At least while they were both in the cabin. “Again, thank you.” She reached up to touch him but stopped part way.
His gaze left her face for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. “Just doing my job.”
His job. “Right.”
Hunter never said whether he was paid to protect her, so maybe something else was going on.
He stepped back. “Why don’t you start work on the Baby Doe reconstruction? I’m the principal on the case, remember?” He tapped her nose. “And I don’t like cold case files.” He flashed her a quick smile before sobering. “I want to solve this one almost more than the murders of the four women.”
“Really?” Kerry understood he cared for the dead, deeply, but she hadn’t realized he differentiated between victims like she did. “I feel the same way.”
“I know.”
As if some magical force pressed against her back, she took a step closer. She told herself she only wanted to feel his warmth. Who was she kidding? She wanted to grab his strength and be...well, connected with him. They shared a common bond.
Instead of rushing into his arms, she placed a finger on his chest. “If anyone can find who did this horrible thing to the child, it’s you.”
He flashed her another smile. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’ll try my best to get the perpetrator.”
She bet compliments were far and few between in his line of work. “I know you will.”
He squeezed her upper arms and dropped his hands. “I’ll whip us up something for dinner while you work.”
Kerry’s mouth half opened. “Wait a minute. You want to cook?” Melissa warned her he’d ruined more meals than he’d made edible. “For my health, maybe I should cook.”