“I do.”
She stepped back from her excitement and studied the big picture. If days could catch the man who’d killed Lexis, she had to give him those days. “I’ll give you three days. Not a minute more.”
“Understood.”
“I was about to make coffee. Would you like some?”
“I’d love a cup.”
They crossed the large open space and moved behind a partition to the industrial kitchen. She took two mugs off a shelf, filled the coffeepot reservoir with water and loaded coffee in the machine. She hit brew.
“Did you watch the CD?” she asked.
“I did.”
“I studied it a dozen times searching for some glimpse of someone that might have been the killer.”
“Great minds think alike. I didn’t see anyone that caught my attention.”
“She mentioned Sugar.” She sipped her coffee.
“Too bad she didn’t offer up his real name.”
“You know Sugar is likely Georgia’s biological father.”
“It’s crossed my mind.”
“Has Georgia met Margaret?”
“Georgia knows about her but she’s not made contact. She’s nervous.”
A need to disclose again to the enemy rose. Maybe she was losing her touch. “I met with Bill Dawson.”
“You get around.”
“He said . . .” She paused and fought the urge for honesty before saying, “He said that Annie made him swear when she was pregnant that he’d never leave the baby alone with Margaret.”
Deke frowned. “Why?”
“Annie never told Bill. But he remembered her warnings clearly.” Rachel sipped her coffee. “Keep the fact in your back pocket.”
“I will.” A deepening frown suggested this effort at candidness wasn’t a natural for him either. “When it comes to Annie she can be nervous.”
“Lots of emotions there, I suppose.”
“Yes.”
“Georgia aside, I will be in court in seventy-two hours.”
His quick laugh was unexpected and had a rusty quality as if he’d not laughed in years. “Would expect nothing less, Ms. Wainwright.” He gulped more coffee. “By the way, Oscar McMillian’s bail was revoked and he’s now charged with assault.”
“I contacted the court and told them I’m off the case.”
“Just wanted you to know, he won’t bother you.”
“Thanks.”
A silence settled and then he rose. “I should go.”
Disappointment flared. “Sure.”
He moved to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
She followed. “Why would someone fake those letters?”
“My guess is someone wanted to get between Annie and her lover. If the lover thought she was unstable then he’d be more inclined to break it off.”
“They were written by a woman.” She arched a brow. “No doubt a woman who loved Annie’s lover as well. Did the DNA say whether or not the second blood sample was male or female?”
The question gave him pause. “A woman.”
“A woman killed Annie?”
“Maybe. Or Jeb killed two women with that tire iron.”
Rachel considered the theory and dismissed it immediately. “What woman hated Annie more than any other?”
“A lot of women didn’t like Annie. Many saw her as a threat.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob.
“The woman would now have to be in her late forties at least.” She spoke the first name that came to mind. “Margaret.”
“Possible. She would have been sixteen at the time of Annie’s death. And she’s still fit.”
“She adored her sister.”
His eyes flashed with a savvy knowing of a cop who’d seen too much of the dark side of humanity. “There’s a fine line between love and hate.”
“You’ll need more than that in court.”
“I’ll figure this out.”
“Whoever killed those women and attacked me was strong. Quick.”
“The element of surprise offers an advantage.”
She turned the idea of a female killer over and over and the more she did, the greater sense it made. “Lexis might have been tossed off guard by a woman. She’d have delayed before acting and that delay cost her.”
“Help me figure this out?”
The question mark didn’t hide the command woven around the words. “Me? But I’m the enemy.”
The intensity in his eyes softened a fraction. “Perhaps not as bad an enemy as I first thought.”
Electricity snapped between them and a force she’d never known tugged at her. Suddenly, she wanted to touch him. To feel the rough stubble of his chin under her fingertips and against her cheek.
Jesus, Rachel, really? He’s the last guy you should— Rachel silenced the warning. “Thanks.”
Deke’s gaze ignited with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. She felt devoured by his gaze and he’d not made one step toward her.
He was a man who’d lived his life apart. Out of necessity yes, but also maybe a little out of fear. She understood that fear. The fear of feeling too much. Their kind of emotion was a double-edged sword that cut easily.
But in this moment consequences hovered on a distant horizon far out of sight. She had only now and the tension pulling her toward him.
She took one step. “Stay.”
Nikki’s head pounded as if a hammer clattered against the inside of her skull. She rocked back and forth in her bed, cradling her skull in her hands. She moaned, wishing the pain would stop.
“The pain is back?” Rudy’s voice rumbled like gravel but it soothed her to know he was close.
She glanced up, tears streaming from her eyes. “It hurts. Worse than ever.”
Glass of water in hand, he sat on the side of the bed. “I know it hurts. I know it does. I’ve your medicine.”
She threaded her fingers through her hair, clutching handfuls as if to get a handle on the pain. “It makes my head fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy is better than pain and the anger.” He unfurled a fist, revealing a calloused palm and two pink pills. “Take your medicine like a good girl.”
She released the clumps of hair, took the pills and popped them in her mouth. Like a child, she took the water glass and swallowed a healthy gulp.
Rudy watched her swallow and then took the glass from her. “It won’t be long now before the pain stops. Now lie back and close your eyes.”
She eased back against the pillow, wincing when her head touched the sheet. “It hurts.”
He settled the glass on the nightstand, but kept the pills in his pockets. Once in the beginning, he’d left them behind and had come in to find her ready to eat the entire bottle. “I know. But it will stop.”
Watery eyes stared up at him. “Why does it hurt?”
“It always does.” He tugged the blanket up from the foot of the bed and covered her, tucking the end under the mattress.
“But why?” Hers was the voice of a child.
There’d been a time when he’d tried to explain about the headaches and why she could get so angry, but his explanations had left her confused and upset. So he’d stopped answering and let the pills simply do their job. “Doesn’t matter why, Nikki. Just matters that I can take the pain away.”