The Woman Who Couldn't Scream

  Moen plugged his ears.

  Kateri laughed uncontrollably. Maybe the pain shot Dr. Frownfelter had given her had taken effect at last. She laughed again when they stopped to pick up her dog, Lacey, from Mrs. Golobovitch the dog-sitter. Lacey danced with such joy her long, cocker spaniel ears flapped adorably and Kateri leaned down to pet her soft, blond head.

  When Moen stopped at her apartment, Kateri opened the car door.

  Lacey leaped out, put her nose to the ground and started sniffing.

  Kateri followed much more slowly.

  “Want some help, Sheriff?” Moen asked.

  “I can make it.” Because in Virtue Falls, you could always figure someone was peeking out the window and Kateri needed to give the impression of health. She climbed the stairs and got out her key.

  Lacey raced after, placed herself between Kateri and the apartment. Bared her teeth, faced the door and growled low in her throat.

  Taken aback, Kateri gazed at her usually charming dog, then took a long slow step backward. “Moen!” she called. The door stood ajar the smallest bit. With one finger, she pushed it open … and saw all the lights on, pillows tossed and the sparkle of broken glass.

  Someone had trashed her apartment.

  Turned out getting her dog was a smart move.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kateri sat on a folding chair on her tiny porch as her officers went through her apartment, assessing the damage, dusting for fingerprints, holding hushed conversations with her neighbors.

  There was no need for the hushed conversations; Kateri’s pain meds had taken over. When she nodded off, as she occasionally did, Lacey would give her a nudge and Kateri would straighten up.

  The sun had begun to set when at last Bergen came out, put his hand on Kateri’s shoulder and said, “Come on. We’re going to be a few more hours. I’ll take you to my house so you can catch some shut-eye.”

  “I want to go to Rainbow’s.”

  “Rainbow’s … house?”

  “I have her keys. She wouldn’t mind.”

  Bergen got that stern, I know better than you face that he wore so well. “John Terrance is out there. He probably did this.”

  “That’s true. He is out there and he did probably do this. So I’m not going to put your wife and children in jeopardy.”

  Bergen paused, and his I know face turned into his Darn, I wish you hadn’t thought of that face.

  “Hard to argue that, isn’t it?” Kateri added, “After a day like today, I want to be alone.”

  “I’d rather you weren’t.”

  “Send a patrol by every half hour.”

  “I’ll put someone on guard at Rainbow’s house.”

  “Make yourself happy.” She allowed him to help her to her feet. “But Lacey is as good a guard as any you can set.”

  He leaned down to pet her dog. “She knows who did this.”

  “Yes. If only she could speak.” Kateri thought a minute. “I suppose she will somehow tell us when she spots the perp.”

  “Another reason to keep her close.” He put Kateri and Lacey in his patrol car and as they drove the three blocks to Rainbow’s tiny corner house, he reported, “John Terrance—or whoever tossed the house—didn’t do much damage. A broken vase. Furniture upended. The back door was open. We think you interrupted him—the perp—and he fled.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Terrance to me. He’s wily, but he wouldn’t run from a girl. Except if that girl had a chance of hurting him. Spiteful bully.”

  “He had no idea how many officers you had called, so in his mind, he was running from overwhelming testosterone-driven odds.”

  She laughed and as they turned the corner, she almost toppled sideways onto the console.

  “Whoa, girl.” Bergen pushed on her shoulder.

  She teetered back into a sitting position.

  They pulled into Rainbow’s driveway.

  Another patrol car pulled in behind them.

  Bergen came around to help her out. “Sean Weston volunteered for the first shift. I think he’s bucking to get on full-time.”

  She glanced back at her newest temporary officer.

  He smiled—he had one of those square smiles that showed all his teeth—and gave her a thumbs-up.

  “I hate a brown nose,” she muttered, then realized her mutter was a little too loud.

  “You hired him.” Bergen held her arm.

  “Good credentials.” They climbed the stairs to the front porch. “Glowing recommendation from the Carson City police chief.”

  “So the chief either wanted desperately to get rid of Weston…”

  Kateri winced.

  “Or he really is that good.”

  She handed Bergen Rainbow’s keys. “What do you think?”

  “I think we’ll find out.” He opened the front door and gave her a push inside.

  Lacey followed, clearly delighted to once more visit Rainbow’s home.

  Bergen asked, “Can you get yourself to bed or should I call Sandra to help you?”

  Kateri drew herself up. “I’ve been putting myself to bed for a lot of years.” She considered him. “But I need my toothbrush and a change of clothes.”

  Bergen got that panicked look that men get when asked to dig around in a woman’s panty drawer. “I’ll call Sandra to come and pack you a bag.”

  “You do that. And thank you both. You are dear friends.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He waved that away and headed for his car.

  Sean Weston parked himself at the curb.

  Kateri walked inside, shut and locked the door behind her, slithered onto the couch on the way to the bedroom, dropped her walking stick on the floor beside her and slept the sleep of the dead.

  * * *

  Kateri woke up with her head kinked funny, one arm numb and a dog curled behind her bent knees. She half-opened her eyes and stared at the back of the couch.

  God. What time was it?

  Not that it mattered. She had to get up. Her ribs hurt. She was due to take an antibiotic. She had to pee. Plus she probably should brush her teeth and maybe try to climb into Rainbow’s bed, which had to be more comfortable than this saggy old sofa.

  With a groan, she rolled onto her back, dislodging Lacey, then over to the other side—and gave a half-scream.

  Someone—a man—was sprawled in the armchair, watching her.

  Lacey stood up and wagged her whole body.

  “Stag.” Kateri put a hand over her thumping heart and slowly worked herself into a sitting position. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “You scared the hell out of me. Your place got broken into and you didn’t even call?” He wasn’t actually relaxed, she realized. Each muscle was tense.

  Lacey stopped wagging.

  “What were you going to do that the rest of the department couldn’t?”

  “Guard you.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think of that.” Kateri dropped her eyes, because she hadn’t thought of it, and if she had, that uneasy suspicion that he’d set up the drive-by lingered. Stupid, but one of the things that appealed to her on a visceral level—that was to say, made her horny—was how very dangerous he was, like a tiger in a sideshow that could at any moment turn feral. He’d been a bouncer. He’d served time for murder. Now he was involved with setting up a casino at the edge of her town, a casino that would ultimately make her life a hell with prostitution, drunkenness and gambling addicts.

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked up. A small wheeled bag sat on the dining room table. Her small wheeled bag. “Look. Sandra must have sneaked in while I was asleep.”

  “Yeah … I could have packed your bag instead of her. I know my way around your bedroom.” He still looked ready to spring, and his deep voice had a dark, edgy tone.

  Lacey edged herself into Kateri’s lap and fixed him with a stern eye.

  Kateri petted her dog’s head.

  He said, “For God’s sake, you stupid animal, I’m not going to hurt her
.”

  The way he snapped at her dog, like Lacey had hurt his feelings, made Kateri relax and smile. She glanced toward the closed front door. “How did you get in?”

  “I told the kid out front I intended to come in.”

  “The kid? The cop? He let you walk in?” Sean Weston was in big trouble.

  “I may have frightened him. You might want to tell him you’re still alive before all of Virtue Falls law enforcement arrives.”

  “Right.” Gently she shoved Lacey out of her lap. Leaning down, she groped for her walking stick. She braced it on the floor, braced her other hand against the arm of the sofa and tried to rise.

  She couldn’t quite make it. Pain stabbed at her side, her wobbly knees gave out, and with a wince, she fell back—and that made her flinch, moan and hold her ribs.

  Immediately Stag was on his feet and at her side. “For God’s sake. Ask for help.” He wrapped his arm around her butt and lifted her to her feet.

  “Thank you.” She hobbled toward the front door, Stag on one side, Lacey on the other.

  “You don’t know how to ask for help.” He sounded surprised.

  “It doesn’t come easy.”

  He opened the door for her.

  It was dark. Three cop cars had already arrived, lights flashing, sirens silenced. Neighbors were gathering on the sidewalks. Damn. She’d made a scene. She took a careful step out onto the porch and grasped the railing for support. “Sorry, guys. I’m fine. Really.”

  “How do we know he hasn’t got a gun on you?” Sean sounded more than a little belligerent.

  She shut the door in Stag’s face, opened it to reveal him glaring balefully, shut it, opened it and said, “He’s my boyfriend. He was overly concerned and I’m sure too pushy. I hope he didn’t injure you?”

  “Only his pride,” Stag muttered.

  “No, he … no.” Sean shook his head.

  Another cop car pulled up. Bergen got out of the driver’s side, leaned an arm on the top of the car and called, “No prints, Kateri, and we’ve got a mess to clean up before you can go home.”

  “Okay. I’ll stay here for the night. Stag and Lacey are here. I’ll be safe. You all can go”—she waved a limp hand—“find John Terrance. And isn’t it Saturday night?”

  Bergen answered her unspoken question. “Yes, we’ve already got a few DUIs brought in.”

  She nodded. “Give me twelve good hours of sleep and I’ll be riding with you again. Go on.” She watched them reluctantly get in the cars to leave. Turning back to Stag, she said, “Please. I need some food, some meds and … can you help me take a shower?”

  He got a crease in his cheek, the kind that meant he was holding back a smile. “See? Now that didn’t hurt at all.”

  She pinched his butt. Hard. Which was no easy thing because his cheek was rock-hard firm muscle … really nice and tight … damn him.

  He laughed, pulled her close, and together they headed into the bathroom.

  Lacey stayed right on their heels. She sat looking into the bathtub while Stag gently soaped and rinsed Kateri. She watched him dry Kateri and put her into the nightgown Sandra had packed.

  He kept his arm around Kateri as they made their way to the master bedroom. When he flipped on the light, he stopped, viewed the decadent queen-sized bed and asked, “Why are there scratch marks on the headboard posts?”

  Kateri grinned. “Handcuffs?”

  Her big, tough bouncer/lover turned her toward the guest room.

  “I wish Rainbow was here, now, and well,” she said. “She’d make John Terrance sorry he was ever born.”

  “You’ll have to do that for her.” As he helped Kateri into the narrow double bed, Lacey leaped onto the middle of the mattress.

  Stag eyed her.

  She eyed him.

  He went into the kitchen and came back with canned soup in a mug and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was the best canned soup and the best PB & J Kateri had ever eaten. He gave Kateri her meds, took away the dishes, then came back and stripped down to his shorts—Kateri noted his chest was in the same condition as his butt—and climbed in on the other side of the bed.

  Lacey stood up, leaped over, snuggled against his shoulder, then looked back at Kateri smugly as if to say, Look who has him now.

  “You little traitor,” Kateri told her.

  Lacey playfully flipped her ears and put her head against his throat.

  Stag chuckled deep in his chest. “She knows who the alpha male is and she knows his place at the top of the pack.”

  Kateri’s eyes were already closing. “At the top of the pack … right under the alpha female.”

  “Exactly where I want to be.”

  She went to sleep smiling.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The next morning, Kateri woke to find herself alone except for one small blond cocker spaniel who now draped herself over Kateri’s outflung arm. “Traitor,” Kateri again told her sleepy-eyed girl dog, and scratched her between the ears. While Lacey lolled on the comforter, Kateri discovered her walking stick carefully propped up against the wall by the bed, and with that and the support of the end table, got to her feet.

  She felt better. Still bruised, still achy, but with the sleep she needed she was ready to catch her some bad guys. In the kitchen she found coffee ready to brew, bread in the toaster, dog food and water in bowls on the floor and a note: Bed is short. I am long (but you knew that). Went in early to work. Take it easy today, sweetheart, or suffer my wrath.

  “I am afraid,” she said out loud.

  While Lacey feasted, Kateri buttered her toast and considered how to tackle the day. Head on, as always.

  She walked outside, over to the patrol car parked at the curb, leaned down and asked, “Anything happen I should know about?”

  Officer Norm Knowles sighed deeply. “Tourists using a hibachi on a picnic table and setting it on fire. Fender bender on Main leading to a fistfight and a night in jail. Speeders. Public intoxication.”

  “So … the usual.”

  “Yep. No sign of John Terrance. That sick bastard.” Norm had one adult son, the apple of his eye, and the idea of using his body as a defense made Norm’s lip curl.

  “Thanks. I’m going to drop Lacey off at Mrs. Golobovitch’s, then head downtown for breakfast. Why don’t you go home and put your feet up?”

  “I’ll do that.” He tilted his hat back. “You look better, Sheriff. Keep it that way.”

  She slapped the top of the car. “I will.” She walked the two blocks to the Oceanview Café, braced herself, pushed open the door and walked into an atmosphere smelling of bacon, coffee and avid speculation.

  Conversation stopped. In unison, all eyes turned to her.

  She waited for the accusations of incompetence in the matter of the capture of John Terrance.

  From the corner geezer table, Mr. Caldwell asked, “How you doing, Sheriff?”

  Which on the surface sounded like a perfectly friendly inquiry. Except that Mr. Caldwell was an old sonofabitch who hated uppity women in principle and her in particular.

  Kateri replied cautiously, “Pretty good.”

  “You look like shit.”

  There was the Mr. Caldwell she knew and despised.

  He continued, “This your first time in here since the shooting?”

  Her throat unexpectedly closed. She nodded.

  “We’re all missing Rainbow,” Mr. Harcourt said.

  The new waitress, a thin buzz saw of a woman with frizzy blond hair fixed in a long tight braid, turned away from the counter and held the coffeepot in a manner that could only be described as threatening.

  Mr. Harcourt added hastily, “Not that Linda isn’t doing a great job taking care of the customers. But Rainbow is in our prayers.”

  “Amen,” Mr. Caldwell said loudly and glared at Linda.

  Linda snorted, slammed down the coffeepot and delivered a plate of pancakes with such vigor that syrup leaped into the air like Old Faithful.

  In
unison, the customers leaned away.

  Kateri raised her eyebrows at Mr. Caldwell.

  He mouthed, “Meanest woman in the world.”

  Coming from him, that said a lot.

  “You ought to sit down before you fall down.” Mr. Setzer was a real charmer, too, and Mr. Caldwell’s best buddy.

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Mr. Edkvist was the fourth at the geezer table, an Oceanview Café institution that consisted of four slightly deaf old guys loudly predicting the end of America while disparaging today’s politics, today’s shiftless youth and today’s lousy manners. Their own discourtesy, of course, was never a topic of discussion, at least among them.

  Kateri started toward the long counter and an empty stool, then caught sight of a beautiful woman sitting alone at a four-person table.

  The woman smiled at her and using American Sign Language, spelled, “Hi, Kateri.”

  Kateri blinked. She looked closer at the woman. She didn’t recognize her.

  The woman spelled, “Do you remember how to do this?”

  Kateri spelled, but much more awkwardly, “I learned long ago. Do I know you?”

  The woman offered her iPad and gestured to the chair next to her.

  Kateri seated herself so she could observe the café and read the message on the iPad. “My name is Merida Falcon. I am mute. I AM NOT DEAF. PLEASE DO NOT SHOUT!” Again she looked up at the woman. There was something about her … but she would swear she didn’t recognize that face.

  The woman turned so her back was to the customers and with her hands low and swift, she spelled, “It’s been many years since we met, but I’ve never forgotten you.”

  Kateri looked from those hands, at those long, nimble fingers, to the unknown face, then back at the fingers. Memory carried her to a day long ago when two giggling little girls sat in a Baltimore attic learning the manual alphabet for the deaf. They thought it would be cool if they could silently speak to each other in a secret language. The two children, one a foster child, the other an alien in her father’s home, said it would be great if no one else—parents, teachers, siblings—could understand them. Looking back, it had been silly and the phase hadn’t lasted long; they quickly discovered the manual alphabet took practice to do and to read. Still, Kateri remembered …