“What does that mean? That you just sort of happened to me?”
“Yeah.” He tightened his grip on the phone. Lacing his voice with levity, he added, “Sort of like when you walk across the street and get hit by a truck.”
“That’s not a very flattering analogy. And I happen to be a very cautious pedestrian. I always look both ways.”
“Maybe I came up on you from behind.”
She chuckled at that. Then she sighed. “If anyone could, it would be you,” she said softly. “Good night, Heath.”
The line clicked and went dead. Feeling as if someone had just buried a fist in his solar plexus, Heath hung up the phone. If anyone could, it would be you. What the hell had she meant by that? And what was he supposed to do now? Forget she’d ever said it? Probably. The lady was going to drive him bonkers.
I’m a very cautious pedestrian. I always look both ways.
There was something special between them. He felt it every time their gazes met. Yet she seemed determined to run from it. Was she still married? Was that it? If so, why the hell didn’t she just say so? There was such a thing as divorce, after all, and he was more than willing to wait.
Heath wished he could sit down with her and discuss it, but so far, she’d shied away from revealing anything personal about herself to him. Arkansas. Christ. It was almost as if she’d drawn an invisible line between them, and every time he stepped over it, she panicked.
A part of him was tempted to say to hell with it. But Meredith wasn’t just any woman. If she needed more time to get to know him, it was up to him to see that she got it. How, that was the question. Once he finished the repairs on her house, he’d play heck just trying to see her.
His gaze drifted to his open bedroom window. Goliath. All joking aside, the dog’s attachment to Sammy might soon become Heath’s only remaining link with his neighbors.
Chapter 13
Wind gusted across the supermarket parking lot, whipping Meredith’s hair as she leaned over the open trunk of her car to arrange several bags of groceries so nothing would spill. Ever fearful that her wig might blow off, she clamped a hand to the top of her head as she shoved a gallon of milk and a container of bleach into a space next to the spare tire.
“My goodness,” she said to a man who was putting groceries into the back of a pickup in the next parking space. “This wind really has a bite this afternoon.”
Closing the tailgate of his vehicle, the man tossed her a grin. “That’s Wynema Falls for you, warm one day and colder than the dickens the next.”
Sammy had just opened the back passenger door to climb inside the Ford.
“Sammy, you hurry and get in the car before you get chilled,” Meredith called.
Before Sammy could do as she’d been told, Goliath jumped out. Meredith smiled when the Rottweiler joined her at the back bumper. Ignoring the man next to them, the dog leaped up to sniff the grocery bags in the trunk.
“He wants a dog biscuit, Mommy!” Sammy cried. “Please, can’t he have just one?”
Meredith chuckled and rummaged through the bags until she located the large box of Milkbone dog biscuits.
“That’s a nice-looking dog,” the man observed as he got into his pickup.
“Thank you.” Meredith glanced down at Goliath, thinking to herself that “nice-looking” didn’t say it by half. The Rottweiler was beautiful. “We think so.”
She opened the Milkbone carton and handed one of the dog treats to Sammy. “Don’t feed it to him until you’re in the car,” Meredith told the child. “You’re not dressed for this drop in temperature, and I don’t want you catching a cold.”
Sammy took the biscuit and bounded into the car. “Come on, G’liath. I gots a goody for you!”
Goliath was staring at something behind Meredith and didn’t respond.
“Ma’am? Excuse me, ma’am?”
Meredith glanced around. A tall and slender blond-haired man in a charcoal gray business suit was walking toward her. Still holding the box of dog biscuits, she peered at him through the strands of dark hair that had whipped across her face. “Yes?”
Goliath growled, issuing an unmistakable warning. The man halted several feet away, his blue eyes shifting from Meredith to the Rottweiler. “Can you tell me where Maple Street is?”
A prickle of unease danced up Meredith’s spine. Goliath had completely ignored the guy in the next parking spot, yet he was snarling at this fellow? She had to wonder why. This man looked harmless enough, a well-dressed individual in his mid to late thirties. What was it about him that made Goliath uneasy?
Meredith honestly couldn’t say. She knew from experience how intuitive Goliath could be, though, and if the Rottweiler felt there was something wrong, she would be a fool to ignore him. Now that she came to think of it, she didn’t like the way the man was looking at her, or the furtive glances he kept shooting at her car.
“I’m not very familiar with the side streets here, I’m afraid,” she told him. “You’ll have to get directions from someone else.”
As she started to turn away, he held up a piece of paper. “According to my notes, Maple intersects with—” He broke off at another growl from the dog. “He’s not vicious, is he?”
Meredith looped tense fingers over Goliath’s collar. “He just doesn’t care much for strangers. I’m sorry that I can’t help you. I don’t venture off the main thoroughfares that often, and I’ve never heard of Maple Street. Maybe someone inside the store can help you.”
Slamming the trunk closed, Meredith hurried around the car to the driver’s door, tugging Goliath along with her. The Rottweiler continued to growl until Meredith ushered him into the Ford. She climbed in behind him, not slipping her purse strap from her shoulder until she had pushed down all the door locks. The stranger still stood in the same spot, his gaze fixed on her car windows. Was he trying to see inside?
Meredith dug frantically in her purse for her ignition keys. Oh, God, oh, God. A few of her ex-father-in-law’s employees looked like thugs, with stocky builds and pugilistic features. But most of them were very ordinary in appearance, their only commonality the suits they wore, spendy, well-tailored and usually gray, just like that man’s. They were nondescript fellows, the sort who didn’t stand out in a crowd, which allowed them to do Glen’s dirty work without getting fingered.
Her hands were shaking as she started the car engine. Not taking the time to fasten Sammy’s seat belt, she backed quickly out of the parking place, then jerked the automatic transmission into drive. As she left the parking lot, she watched the stranger in her rearview mirror. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry as he returned to his car, an unremarkable gray sedan.
Even the automobile fit the stereotype. They always drove ordinary-looking cars, the better to blend in with traffic.
Her first instinct was to drive away like a bat out of hell. But then a fatalistic calm settled over her. After being seen on the news broadcast the other night, she could be jumping at shadows. For her daughter’s sake, she had to know for sure.
At the first stop light on Chandler Way, she shoved the gearshift into park and leaned over the back of her seat to help Sammy with her safety belt. As she fastened the buckle, she searched the line of cars behind hers. No gray sedan.
When the light turned green, she flipped on her signal to turn left and eased into the intersection, trying not to be obvious when she looked in her rearview mirror. She’d leave an easy trail to follow, just in case he was trying to tail her. If she glimpsed a gray sedan behind her, she would know for sure that she and Sammy were in big trouble.
She circled the block, taking it slow, her gaze on her rearview mirror more often than not. After several minutes passed, the tension flowed from her body like water from a spout. No gray car had popped up in the line of traffic behind her.
Three hours later, Heath glanced up from his work to watch Meredith peer out her kitchen window at another car passing by on the road. Talk about edgy. He had a feeling she’d
part company with her skin if he yelled, “Boo.”
“You expecting company?” he asked.
She turned from the window with a guilty start, her eyes wide. “No. Why?”
He regarded her thoughtfully. “You keep looking out the window like you’re expecting someone, that’s all. I thought maybe you had guests coming.”
“Guests?” She gave a nervous little laugh as she stepped back to the stove to check the roast in the oven. “I’m new here, remember. I haven’t made enough friends yet to be expecting company.”
That was exactly why he found her behavior so odd.
Resuming his work, he scraped angrily at the utility room linoleum. The stuff clung to the flooring almost as stubbornly as Meredith did to her secrets. She was upset about something, damn it. But would she admit it? Hell, no. Once again, she wasn’t talking, and her reticence was starting to irritate the shit out of him.
He had a bad feeling about this. Was she afraid her old man might show up? It was the only explanation Heath could come up with to explain her behavior, and the thought worried him. She’d never be able to make it to the phone in time to call him if something happened. Didn’t she realize that? Stretched out in his recliner with his television blaring or sound asleep in bed, he wouldn’t even know she was in trouble. The guy could kick in the door, beat the holy hell out of her, possibly even kill her, and no one would be the wiser.
Thirty minutes later, when Heath knocked off work for the evening, Meredith was still glancing out the window every time she heard a car. Fed up with such nonsense, Heath caught her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. As he searched her startled gaze, he realized this was one of the few times he had ever touched her, which didn’t say a hell of a lot for how well their relationship was progressing. As he tightened his grip, he couldn’t help but notice how fragile she felt, the bones of her shoulders prominent, her arms slender almost to the point of thinness. She wasn’t eating enough, he realized. And she had dark circles under her eyes.
“Merry, if you ever need help, you do know you can count on me, don’t you?” he asked softly.
She splayed a slender hand on his chest, whether to touch him or hold him off, he wasn’t sure. Probably the latter, he decided, which made him bite down hard on his back teeth. She raised her chin a notch, the prideful gesture making her seem even more vulnerable.
“Thank you, Heath. I appreciate that.”
Determined to hold her fast, he ignored the light shove of her hand. “Don’t brush me off. I really mean it,” he said, his voice turning gruff. “If you need a friend, I’ll be there, no matter what.”
She stopped trying to push him away and averted her gaze instead. “I’ll remember that.”
For an awful moment, he experienced an unholy urge to shake her. As if that would solve anything. He had a feeling she’d been on the receiving end of a man’s brute strength too many times already.
He finally loosened his hold on her. What other choice did he have? He couldn’t force her to accept his help.
Leaving her there alone with Sammy was one of the hardest things Heath had ever done. Once he got home, he found himself doing the same thing she had been, rushing to the window every time he heard a car. None of the vehicles so much as slowed down in front of her house. Somehow, that didn’t ease his mind very much.
After about an hour, his patience frayed. He couldn’t stand guard over at her place. That much was true. But there was nothing to stop him from sending his dog. If he was right, and she expected her old man to come calling tonight, the bastard would have a big surprise about the time he kicked her door in.
At the back screen, Heath knelt to give Goliath a farewell scratch behind the ears. The intelligence that gleamed in the Rottweiler’s brown eyes made him smile.
“Take care of them for me. Okay, partner? If the son of a bitch shows up, rip his balls off.”
Over four thousand miles away, Glen Calendri pressed the STOP button on his VCR remote control, his ice blue gaze fixed on the dark-haired woman and towheaded child freeze-framed on the television screen. Staring at them had become his favorite pastime. A muscle along his jaw ticked as he leaned forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes to better study the blurry images he had recorded. The child definitely resembled his granddaughter Tamara.
The telephone rang just then, making Glen jerk. He swore under his breath and reached for the portable.
“Yes,” he barked into the mouthpiece, drawing out the word with serpentine sibilance.
“Hey, boss. It’s Delgado.”
Frustration mounting, Glen leaned back in his chair. “Well, now, I never woulda guessed that if you hadn’t told me. Who the hell else would be callin’ me at this time of night?”
“It’s only eight-thirty, boss.”
“Eleven-thirty here. The time difference, remember?”
“Oh, yeah…I forgot.”
Son of a bitch. The man was a fucking idiot. “What d’ya got for me?”
“Well, boss, it ain’t been easy. We haven’t been able to get in close enough yet to get a good look at the kid.”
“You want easy, go teach kindergarten. That’s why I pay you the wages I do, Delgado. What do you mean, you can’t get in close enough?”
“Well, like this afternoon. Nelson walked right up to the broad in a supermarket parkin’ lot, but the wind was blowin’ like a sonofabitch, and her hair was all in her face. He couldn’t see her good enough to tell for sure, you know?”
“Why didn’t you just follow her into the store?”
“Well, we sure would’ve, boss, but we ran into some road construction on the way to town. They let her go through, but held us back. When we finally got to town, we had to drive around lookin’ for her car. By the time we finally found it, she had finished shoppin’ and was puttin’ the groceries in her trunk.”
“You find a way to get close. You got that? If that’s my grandchild out there, I want her back. Not next week, now.”
“I read you, boss. Believe me, I read you, loud and clear. Only we got us this little problem. Except for when we tailed her to town, we been watchin’ her place ever since we got here this mornin’, but the house is half hidden by fences and shrubbery. We can’t see into the backyard from any distance with binoculars like we hoped, and there are cow pastures all around her. No kind of cover. We belly-crawled up to her fence late this evening, hopin’ to get a better look at the kid while she was outside playin’, but a goddamned Rottweiler jumped us.”
“A what?” Glen asked, not quite able to believe his ears. He looked at the television, his gaze narrowing on the indistinct black dog in the background.
“A Rottweiler. You know, one of them devil dogs. Sonofabitch ripped the seat out of my good suit pants. Now we can’t get anywhere close without the damned dog spottin’ us. It’s like the fucker’s watchin’ for us.”
Glen straightened in his chair. “Are you tellin’ me you can’t get close enough to make an ID because of a goddamned dog? Shoot the sonofabitch!”
“We can’t do that, boss. You said to ID them without raisin’ suspicion. We shoot the dog, and somebody’s bound to notice.”
Glen pinched the bridge of his nose. Incompetent idiots. “All right, all right,” he said, holding up a hand. “The solution to that is simple. Poison it.”
“We already tried. Went by a farmer’s co-op, picked up some really bad shit that they use out here for what they call ground diggers.”
“What the hell is a ground digger?”
“They’re sorta like a squirrel. Little brown suckers that burrow in the fields. Anyhow, Nelson put enough poison in a pound of hamburger to kill a horse. The dog damned near nailed him when he snuck up to throw it over the fence. And then the bastard wouldn’t eat it! Me and Nelson think maybe it’s one of them cop dogs. It belongs to the sheriff, and it’s a smart son of a bitch.”
Glen swore under his breath. The dog had an IQ higher than Delgado’s, no doubt. “Just walk up and
knock on her front door.”
“Knock?”
“It’s the simplest way. The dog can’t be so vicious it attacks every person who goes to the house, Delgado. They couldn’t let it run loose. Chances are, if you just walk up onto the porch like a normal person, instead of trying to sneak, the dog will leave you alone.”
“What if it don’t?”
Glen ground his teeth. “Your family will be well taken care of.”
“What?”
The man truly was an idiot. “Just try it, Delgado. All right? When the broad answers her door, you’ll be able to get a good look at her, and maybe at the kid as well.”
Delgado was silent for a second. “What’ll we say to her?”
“About what?”
“Well, we gotta have us a reason, don’t we? For knockin’, I mean.”
“Jesus Christ. What am I payin’ you two idiots for, to play with yourselves? Make something up, Delgado. Say you’re taking a census.”
“A what?”
Glen rolled his eyes. “Forget that. Tell her you’re selling encyclopedias. That’ll work. You do know what an encyclopedia is, don’t you?”
“Sure. What’d’ya think I am, stupid or somethin’?”
After hanging up the phone, Glen placed a call to Sanders. “I want two more men on the job in Oregon, Allen. Nelson and Delgado can’t handle it, at least not alone. They’ve encountered a few difficulties, and neither of them is bright enough to screw in a lightbulb, let alone iron out wrinkles.”
“You got anybody special in mind?”
“Get Parker and Matlock. I’d like them out there by morning. They’re both sharp. They can get the job done.”
“I don’t know if I can book them flights out of here that fast.”
“Use the Lear. It’s probably best to go that route, anyway. Not as much red tape when they bring the kid back.”
“If they bring her back. We don’t know for sure it’s even her yet.”
Glen sighed. “Yeah, ‘if.’” He glanced back at the television. “I’ve got a hunch it is, though, and my hunches are seldom wrong.”