Overkill(43)

He backtracked and passed through the living room again, then followed his nose down a hallway, past a guest room, past a home office, to the hall’s dead end at a bedroom that had to be hers. Like all the other rooms, it was tidy, but it had a more lived-in feel. There was a king bed, plus a chaise lounge. Both had an abundance of decorative pillows.

A throw had been left draping the foot of the bed. He ran his hand over its luxuriant pile. Sleek surfaces in the kitchen, plushness in the bedroom. This was where she curled up to read the naughty fiction.

When he opened the closet door, the light automatically came on. Since the blinds were drawn, he felt it was safe to leave it on. The walk-in was well organized. Three open shelves were devoted to high-heeled shoes. Stilettos mostly.

No thick ankles on Kathryn, then.

He glanced at his watch. He had a little over two minutes before he had to clear out.

He went to the built-in chest of drawers. Being careful to cover his hand with his sleeve to avoid leaving fingerprints, he opened the top drawer. Underwear. Not the underwear of a woman with saggy tits and an unsightly wart.

The bras were lacy and sheer, not of a size that would ordinarily attract him, but he became aroused while rubbing his index finger over the moderate cup of one where a nipple would fit.

Her panties also elicited a delightful stirring behind his fly. Some were thongs, some more practical, but none were maiden-like. He took a black lace thong and tucked it into his pocket along with the orchid blossom.

He looked at his watch. Ninety seconds left. Time to go. He didn’t want to. He wanted to get to know Kathryn Lennon better. Much better.

He closed the closet door; the light went out. As he was about to slip from the room, he noticed a framed photograph on a side table next to the chaise. There were three people in the picture, but he couldn’t see them clearly, so he risked turning on his phone’s flashlight.

The picture had been taken on a beach. The trio stood with their arms around one another’s waists. Sandy feet, swimwear, all smiles. A man and a woman, who looked to be about his dad’s age, were standing on either side of a woman with short, platinum hair. She was wearing a bikini that matched the size of the undies in the chest of drawers.

Her wide smile and the sun’s glare had caused her gamine face to scrunch, but she looked cheeky and adorable. He cooed, “Hellooo, Kathryn.”





Zach had felt like shit all day.

By the time he’d come full circle of the trail at the B and B, Kate’s SUV was no longer parked in front of the cottage. Which was what he’d expected, and it was just as well. A second goodbye would have been more difficult than the first, but it didn’t improve his mood to know that she had left.

He’d gotten home in time to check the stock market before it closed. He’d been pleased to see that it had taken a bump in the right direction today. He’d spent an hour analyzing the data and had shot emails to those he knew would be interested, but he’d been restless and unable to concentrate. He whiled away most of the afternoon gazing out the window.

The pending decision he must make about Rebecca’s life had been as haunting as a ghostly cold breath on the back of his neck, and as burdensome as leg irons. He had told Kate he wouldn’t be rushed, but in addition to his struggle with the moral and emotional ambiguities, time was a factor.

If Eban took off to someplace that was soft on extradition, keeping the miscreant permanently out of reach, would he ever forgive himself? He didn’t think so. But the alternative was—

Unthinkable.

The sun had gone down. Dinnertime had rolled around. He hadn’t found anything in his kitchen that appealed to him, so he’d decided to drive into town for barbecue. The place was a block off the square, and he was known there. He’d ordered his regular combo plate and took it to a picnic table on the outdoor deck that overlooked a rippling creek. Heaters had been turned on to ward off the chill, but no one else had come outside, and he’d welcomed the solitude. As soon as he’d finished his meal, he headed for home, his frame of mind still in the dumps. Now, he was almost to his turnoff when a car shot out from a side road directly in front of his pickup. His tires skidded over the damp pavement as he stomped the brake pedal and swerved to avoid T-boning the other vehicle and the damned fool who was driving it.

His truck shuddered to a stop, his back tires coming a mere foot short of the cliff. Caught by his seat belt, he had to wait until it released, then engaged the emergency brake, flung open the door and jumped out, angry and anxious at the same time.

“Are you all right?” he called as he approached the sedan.

Dave Morris squeezed himself out of the driver’s seat. He wasn’t in uniform. “Far from all right, you son of a bitch.”

He came lumbering toward Zach, who took a stance and squared off. “You were waiting on me to come along. How’d you know I’d be on the road?”

“Saw your truck parked at the barbecue joint. Knew you’d be driving home sooner or later.”

“So you laid an ambush. Where’s your badge?”

“Temporarily suspended. On account of you. After you talked to Mackey Parks, he called Sheriff Meekes and lodged a complaint against me.”

“Ah, gee, that’s too bad.”

Baring his teeth, Morris lunged and took a swing at him, but Zach saw it coming and dodged the deputy’s meaty fist. He landed what he thought would be a good blow to Morris’s belly, but it was like he’d hit a sack of cement.