He took her to meet his aunt and uncle, Rose and Albert Howard. On the death of his parents in a yachting accident, they had raised Benedict. The old couple was charming. So charming. Rather ditzy. Yet sharp-eyed and maybe faking it.
At the time, Merry believed in the good of all mankind. Well, not really. She wasn’t stupid. She remembered Mr. Cole. At the same time, she believed everyone should have the chance to improve themselves, to be better, to be kind, to love as much as they could.
She simply didn’t realize that some people … never love.
Benedict worked with her every morning at the day care center from 3 A.M. to 8 A.M. The children adored him. Ms. Sandvig adored him.
Merry loved him. She loved him so much. She thought she was making a difference in his life. She imagined because of her he saw the world with new eyes.
Then he did change her life … when he tried to kill her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The corded phone rang beside Merida’s bed, waking her out of a nightmare-haunted sleep. For a moment, she stared around the room, lost in the past. The lights were on, she still wore her clothes. What…? Where was she?
Disoriented, she snatched up the receiver.
She said, “Hello.” No sound came out of her mouth, but for the first time in years, she had tried to speak.
Unbalanced? Yes, and her bewilderment grew worse when a man’s hoarse voice whispered, “Be careful. They’re hunting you…”
She wanted to demand an explanation, to ask who was after her.
But that voice said, “Remember, Helen. You cannot scream.” He hung up, leaving her clutching the receiver so hard her knuckles were white.
She didn’t glance at the clock, didn’t give a thought to the time. She grabbed her iPad in her shaking fingers, dropped it, picked it up again. Called Kateri’s number and activated the video.
Kateri answered immediately. She was braiding her dark hair. Behind her Merida could see a shadowy living room and a brightly lit kitchen. “What is it, Merida?” Her voice was clipped, anxious.
Merida tried typing, but her hands were shaking too hard. She propped up the tablet and spelled, “A man. A man! Called me here. He said … he said…”
At once, Kateri leaned close to the camera. “Are you in any immediate danger?”
Merida looked around. She was alone. The doors were locked. No one was watching her. Were they? The windows were dark. But she was on the second floor. All that was out there were those giant trees that overhung the mansion … no one would climb a tree to watch her.
No one.
Would they?
She signed, “He said, ‘Remember. You cannot scream.’” She didn’t tell the whole truth. She didn’t say that he’d called her Helen. The name, for her, was a shameful brand that burned and burned and never stopped.
Kateri sucked in her breath. “Damn. Not surprised you were scared. I’ll send a patrolman.”
Merida pointed. “You?”
“I’m sorry, Merida, but I can’t come myself. Right now, we’ve got a situation.”
Merida glanced at the clock. Three A.M.
Kateri was awake, alert, dressed in her sheriff’s uniform. She tied off her braid and flipped it back over her shoulder.
A man, a tall man, Native American and bare to the waist, stepped into range of the camera, kissed her on the cheek and murmured, “Take care.”
“I always do,” Kateri said to him. She leaned down and petted her dog and with tablet still in hand, she picked up her walking stick and walked out of her apartment and into the night.
Behind her, a young, red-haired patrolman followed, speaking into the radio clipped onto the shoulder of his uniform.
“A crime?” Merida asked.
“A murder.”
That word, murder, jolted Merida into thinking logically and without that knee-jerk fear. “Don’t send anyone here.” Because she didn’t want to make a scene at the B and B. She didn’t want Sean Weston to be the patrolman who came to check on her. Most of all, she didn’t want Benedict to know his scare tactics were working. Because it had to be him, didn’t it? He had arrived in town and within hours a strange man called and “warned” her of oncoming trouble. “I’m fine. I’m safe. Take care.”
Kateri understood. “I always do,” she said again.
Merida cut the connection. She held the tablet and thought, then with every evidence of casualness, she turned off the lights—and dropped to the floor. She crawled to the window and looked out into the yard. She scanned the trees first—the moon was close to full and no clouds covered its face, and in the light she saw no suspicious shapes, no lurkers in the branches.
But when she peeked out into the shadowy yard, she saw furtive movement. A flash of eyes? A scuttle against the ground? Maybe a raccoon? Or a wolf? Or a … not a wolf. Not … it was human. Someone was watching.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall.
Who was watching? Paparazzi? Benedict? Someone who was after her?
Who?
And why?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Officer Rupert Moen had parked the patrol car at the curb by Kateri’s door. He opened the passenger side door.
Kateri slid in, placed her walking stick in the back and watched the young officer as he crossed in front of the headlights. His mouth was pinched as if he wanted to vomit, and he walked like a man suffering from a massive hangover. But he’d been fine yesterday … and he’d been on duty all night. The boy was not hungover. He was sick in his heart and soul. He started the car and headed out of town and down the dark and winding coast highway toward the crime scene.
“You were the first responder?” she guessed.
“Yes.” In the dash lights, he looked scared … no, not scared. Haunted.
“You want to fill me in?”
“No.” That was all. No description, no details, no excitement. The young officer was uncharacteristically silent.
So it was bad. Very bad.
She patted his hand on the steering wheel.
He jumped as if someone had sneaked up on him, as if what he’d seen made his skin hurt.
“Sorry.” She removed her hand. “Sorry. As soon as you drop me off, you should go home. See your folks. Talk to your father.” Who was a former cop, disabled while in the line, but proud of his son and more capable of helping him than anyone she knew.
“I can drive you back.”
“I know you can. But your shift is over and I think there will be plenty of police presence, don’t you?” He did not need to view the scene again.
Moen nodded jerkily. “Okay. I’ll drop you off and head back. I have to file the report, anyway.”