“Not to me directly, but it’s there.”
“You two had a falling out?”
“More like the old man is disappointed that I didn’t follow in his footsteps.”
Ruth recalled that Patrick Starr used to be a detective. “He wanted you to have a career in law enforcement? Isn’t that what Kat chose?”
“He’s still a little uncomfortable having a daughter in a traditionally male profession. I think it’s getting better. We all made our choices quite a while ago. But I’m definitely the outcast.”
“That’s a shame. It must be hard on you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Oh, wait—I just did.” He gave a casual smile. “See how you did that? You must be a kickass therapist, Dr. Ruth.”
They both chuckled, and Ruth realized it was the first light moment she’d experienced since the bad news had broken this week. It felt good to laugh, even if just for a moment.
“How is Kat doing?” she asked. “She must be busy with everything that went on this week.”
“I’d imagine. We have dinner together whenever we can, but she’s been canceling lately, blaming it on work, which, unfortunately, is probably the truth. She’s still single, like me. I don’t think there’s a man alive who could put up with her stubbornness.”
“Underneath that shell, there’s a heart of gold.” Kat had been kind to her, but they were both too young and immature to help each other through the trauma of that night.
“Does she know you’re in town?” he asked. “You two used to be friends, right?”
Ruth thought of the recent phone calls and texts she’d ignored. “That was fifteen years ago. A lot of things have changed.”
“True, but you didn’t turn into an asshole, and neither did Kat. You two could meet on common ground.” He held up a finger and glanced in both directions. “Okay, I’ve got to stop with the potty mouth. This is a place of worship.”
“Right. Save it for the sidelines, Coach.”
“We should get together,” he suggested. “The three of us. Kat will want to see you.”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Am I being too pushy?”
“No. It’s not you. It’s—it’s me.”
“That is the oldest blow-off in the book, Ruth. You’ve got to come up with something more original than that.”
He scared a laugh out of her. “Sorry, I just . . . can’t do it now. Building a business, settling in with my daughter.”
“Fair enough. So I’ll give you some time. How does two weeks sound?”
She looked away in regret. She couldn’t tell him that it was his sister she was avoiding. She saw that the group of people on the other side of the room was dispersing and said, “I need to go over and speak with the Donovans. It’s been great talking with you, Ethan. I hope to see you around.”
“Same.” The glimmer in his eyes made her want to stick around, and it had been a long time since she’d felt this way about any man.
A long, long time.
*
The sun blazed low in the sky as the two lovers peeled their naked bodies apart and began to pull their clothes on. Through the field glasses he had watched the two of them, Shiloh Silva and Beau Tate, mating like pigs in spring at their favorite spot by the river where they thought they were hidden from view.
Wrong.
Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest, but they’d gotten their rocks off. He’d gotten off too, but barely. The new girl was too young and inexperienced. Stiff as a board and always whimpering like a puppy.
His cock hardened at the memory of Courtney. She’d had a reputation, that girl, but it had been all talk. She hadn’t known what to do with a man at all. But he’d taught her. He’d taught her good. Her body had ripened into a fine specimen of a woman, with round breasts and hands that he’d trained to service him. She’d learned where to stroke and when to let go, schooled her in all the tricks of a whore, things no decent woman should know. With Courtney, he had been able to get it all out, all the rage and roaring sexual desire that drove him stir-crazy when it was pent up inside.
And he’d loved her husky voice when he prodded her to say, “Only you can do it for me, Lover.”
Damn, but he missed her. He’d actually teared up when he found her body; getting soft as an old hag, he was. He’d had to get rid of the body, and his plan had been to burn her remains, remove any trace of possible DNA he might have left on her. But the damn fire starter hadn’t sparked, and he’d run out of time, and now he was fucked if they found something that would give him away. Maybe the gasoline would destroy evidence. He’d even gone so far as to put some inside her.
But it was all wrong anyway. The police were beating bushes and buzzing through the sky in their helicopters like pesky overgrown insects, but they didn’t get it. They kept saying she’d been murdered, but it wasn’t true. He would have never killed her. Killing wasn’t his thing . . . as a rule. Sure, he’d killed once, but only because he had to. That bitch had tried to kill him, so he’d had to stop her. That was the one and only reason. Well, that and the fact that she planned to run home to tell the cops everything. RIP, little bitch.
But she was gone too. Long gone. And now clumsy, simpering Addie was a poor substitute.
He needed another. A ripe, experienced woman.
Shiloh Silva would fit him just fine. Or Ruth Baker . . . but with Shiloh back in town . . .
She could teach the younger one a thing or two, bring her from an awkward filly to a galloping mare. He’d had two at the same time before. Double the pleasure. And he had no trouble handling them.
Thinking of her caused his cock to go hard, despite the pounding he’d given Addie earlier.
He needed more.
He wanted Shiloh, the wild girl. She owed him for leaving a wound on his flesh, the little bitch. He would tease her and pin her and give her more of a pounding than Beau Tate would ever deliver. He would get her, and good.
Soon enough, she’d get her invitation. After that, it was just a waiting game until he could pounce on her when she was alone.
Just a matter of time.
Chapter 15
“That’s the latest news, right there.” Jimmy Woodcock motioned Ruth to come around his desk so that she could see the monitor he was turning her way.
Although she had been avoiding the office of the Prairie Winds for weeks, Ruth’s encounter with Woodcock at the diner had reminded her that it was high time to buy advertising for the rape hotline in his newspaper and on his media website. This shell of a storefront with a handful of abandoned desks was emptied of full-time reporters and photographers after the last economic downturn had hit town, and she found it a little creepy that Jimmy worked in a desk set at the dark back of the cave. Reluctantly, Ruth came around behind him and squinted at the screen to avoid getting too close to him. Although Woodcock was smooth and attractive in a lost cowboy sort of way, something about him repelled her.