Forbidden Territory - Paula Graves 3 стр.


McBrides heart jumped to hyperspeed as he hurried to Lilys side. He caught her elbow. Are you okay?

Her head rose slowly. Go away.

You cant even stand up by yourself. Are you drunk?

I dont drink. Her head lolled forward, her forehead brushing against his shoulder.

Drugs?

He could barely hear her faint reply. No.

He wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her up. Her slim body melted against his, robbing him of thought for a long, pulsing moment. She was as soft as she looked, and furnace-hot, except for the icy fingers clutching his arm. Her head fell back and she gazed at him, her eyes molten.

Desire coursed through him, sharp and unwelcome.

Ruthlessly suppressing his bodys demands, he helped her to the sofa, trying to ignore the warm velvet of her skin beneath his fingers. What did you take for the headache?

I ran out of my prescription. She lay back and covered her eyes with her forearm, as if even the waning afternoon light filtering through the curtains added to her pain.

I can call it in for you. Do you have any refills left?

Just leave me alone.

He should go, and to hell with her. It was probably another con. But she wasnt faking the pain lines etched across her delicate face. I can call a doctor for you

The prescription bottles in the drawer by the fridge. Tears slid out from beneath her forearm.

Her weak capitulation gave McBride an uneasy feeling as he headed to the kitchen to find the prescription.

He was back in fifteen minutes, using the keys Lily had given him to let himself back into the house. It was a few minutes after six and night had fallen, cool and blue. He fumbled along the wall for a light switch, but couldnt find one.

Pausing to let his eyes adjust to the dark, he saw the pale sheen of a lampshade a few feet away, outlined in the glow coming through the windows from the streetlight outside. He felt his way to the lamp and turned it on. The muddy yellow circle of light from the low-watt bulb barely penetrated the darkness in the corner where it stood. But it was better than the unrelenting darkness.

Lily lay on the sofa, her arm still over her eyes.

Ms. Browning?

She didnt answer.

McBride crossed to the sofa and crouched beside her, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. She was asleep, without the benefit of the pills hed just spent more than fifty dollars buying for her.

No matter. Shed probably need them when she woke up.

She shifted in her sleep but didnt awaken. Waiting for her to settle back down, McBride gave in to the male hunger gnawing at his belly and let his gaze wander over her body, taking in the tempting curves and planes. At some point in her sleep, the hem of her T-shirt had slid up, baring a thin patch of smooth, flat belly and the indentation of her navel.

Heat sluiced through him, unexpected and unwanted. Dragging his gaze from that narrow strip of flesh, he pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from her.

He distracted himself with a quick, cops-eye survey of the living room. Clean. Spare. Simple furniture in neutral tones with just enough color to ward off boredom. He moved closer to the wall to study a framed water-color, a delicate rendering of a tulip in colors that would be subtle even with full illumination. A neat signature appeared in black appeared in the bottom right corner: Iris Browning. Mother or sister?

Movement to one side caught his eye. A Siamese cat crouched, frozen, near a small iron plant stand, staring at him from between the leaves of a philodendron. McBride barely made out glowing turquoise eyes in a chocolate face.

A shudder ran through him.

Suddenly, a scream split the quiet, snapping the tension in his spine like a band. Off balance, he stumbled backward into the lamp, knocking it over. The bulb shattered, plunging the room into darkness.

With his heart slamming against his rib cage, he turned to the sofa, peering through the blackness. In the glimmer of light flowing through the window, Lilys face was a pale oval, twisted into a horror mask by her wide-stretched mouth, her scream rising and swelling like a tidal wave, chilling him to the bone.

LILY KNEW IT WAS NIGHT, black as pitch and deathly quiet except for whimpering sobs. She recognized Abbys soft cries.

Abby? she whispered.

The child didnt hear her, but stayed where she was, somewhere in the deep blackness, crying in soft little bleats.

Lily knew she was dreaming, that by waking she could spare herself whatever lay beyond the door separating Abby Walters from her abductors. But she couldnt abandon the little girl.

She could almost hear Abbys thoughts, the panicked jumble of memories and fearsMommy lying on the roadside, blood streaming down her pale hair, tinting the golden strands red.

Mommy, wake up! Am I going to die? Daddy, help me!

Lily heard the rattle of a doorknob and the scraping sound of a dead bolt sliding open. Bright light sliced through the dark room, blinding them both.

Abby screamed.

A whistle shrieked.

Second shift at the lumber mill. Daddy would be home soon.

As she did every afternoon, Lily shut her eyes and watched her father wipe his brow with his worn white handkerchief, then reach for the switch to shut off the large circular saw.

Bam!

A log slipped loose from the hooks and slammed into Daddys back, pitching him into the spinning steel blade. A mist of red spun off the blade and spattered the sawdust on the table.

Daddy screamed.

Lily awoke in an explosive rush. Smothering blackness surrounded her, her fathers scream soaring, deafening her.

Then she realized the scream was her own.

Gentle hands emerged from the blackness, cradling her face. The couch shifted beneath her and a familiar scent surrounded her. Fingers threaded through her hair, drawing her against a solid wall of strength and warmth.

She felt a hammering pulse against her breasts, beating in rhythm with her own racing heart.

A low voice rumbled in her ear. Its okay.

Her heart stuttered, then lurched back into a gallop as she realized the strong arms wrapped around her belonged to Detective McBride.

Chapter Three

Feeling Lilys warm body stiffen, McBride let her go. I think you were having a nightmare. He stood and stepped back from the couch. Do you remember it?

She hesitated. No.

Think you can bear a little light? McBride turned on the nearest of the two torchiere lamps flanking the couch. Golden light chased shadows to the other side of the room. Okay?

Yes. She met his gaze, her eyes huge and haunted.

He frowned. You sure?

Im fine. No need to babysit anymore.

Though he had more questions to ask, he decided to let her stew awhile, wondering when hed come back. I put your pills on the kitchen counter. It cost fifty-six dollars, but since I broke your light, well call it even. He gestured at the lamp lying at a crooked angle, propped up by an armchair. Sorry.

Her glimmering eyes met his. A pull as powerful as the ocean tide engulfed him, catching him off balance. He forced himself to turn away, move toward the front door.

Sofa springs creaked behind him. He felt her approach, the hair on the back of his neck tingling. When he turned again, he found her closer than expected. Close enough to touch. He clenched his fists. Stay away from this case, Ms. Browning. Theres nothing in it for you.

Sofa springs creaked behind him. He felt her approach, the hair on the back of his neck tingling. When he turned again, he found her closer than expected. Close enough to touch. He clenched his fists. Stay away from this case, Ms. Browning. Theres nothing in it for you.

Goodbye, Lieutenant. She opened the front door. Her skin glowed like porcelain in the blue moonlight.

Quelling the urge to touch her, he slipped out the door and hurried to his car. He slid behind the steering wheel and took several deep breaths. When he felt more in control, he dared a quick look at the dark facade of Lily Brownings house.

His lips tightened to a grim line. What the hell was wrong with him? Of all people, he knew better than to let a woman like Lily Browning get under his skin.

Hed learned that lesson the hard way.

SUNLIGHT KNIFED across Lilys bed, waking her. She squinted at the clock on her bedside table. Nine. All that sleep and she still felt as if shed been run over by a truck.

She pulled her T-shirt over her head, breathing in a faint, tangy scent clinging to the cotton. It took her back to the darkness, to the feel of McBrides strong arms around her. Shed felt safe. Comforted by his solid body against hers, the soothing timbre of his voice in her ear, telling her everything was okay. God, shed wanted to believe him.

Jezebel jumped from the dresser to the bed and rubbed her furry face against Lilys chin. Lily stroked the Siamese cats lean body, from silvery mask to long gray tail. Hungry, Jez?

After feeding the mewling cats, she retrieved the Saturday morning paper from the front porch. Settling at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, she opened the newspaper.

Abby Walterss freckled face stared back at her. Former Wife of U.S. Senate Candidate Found Dead, Daughter Missing, the headline read in bold, black letters.

Abby Walters, age six, had gone missing after her mother was killed in a carjacking Friday morning. The article speculated the attack might be politically motivated. Abbys father and Debras ex-husband, Andrew Walters, was a state senator running for the U.S. Senate.

The door in her mind opened a crack. Resolutely, she slammed it shut.

IT WAS A ONE-TIME THING. She threatened to get a restraining order and I quit. The slim, nervous man sitting across the interview table from McBride pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his long nose with a shaky finger. My God, yall dont think I had anything to do with it.

McBride tapped his pencil on his notepad and let Paul Leonardi stew a moment. The mans dark eyes shifted back and forth as he waited for McBride to speak.

I was out of town Friday. I left home at five in the morning. You can ask my neighborhe saw me leave.

McBride pretended to jot a note, but he already knew all about Leonardis trip to Lake Guntersville for a weekend of fishing and eagle watching. It had taken the task force most of Sunday to track him down after Andrew Walters had fingered Leonardi as the man most likely to leave his ex-wife dead by the side of the road.

I loved Debra. Id never hurt her or Abby.

Lots of men kill the women they love. Thats why its called a crime of passion. McBride felt a glimmer of satisfaction when Leonardis face went pale at his words. I did check your alibi. The cabin manager said you didnt show up until noon. Thats seven hours to make a two-hour drive to Guntersville. What did you do with the other five hours?

God, I dont know! I took the scenic route part of the time. I stopped for gas somewhere around Birmingham, I think. I stopped at an antique store in Blount County and picked up an old butter churn to add to Moms collection for her birthday coming up. I went by the home store outlet in Boaz to pick up a pedestal sink for the guest bathroom Im renovating at home. He raked his fingers through his thinning hair. Damn, I knew I should have waited and done all that on the way back home, but I figured Id be tired and just blow it off.

McBride wrote down the stops he mentioned, asking for more details. Leonardi couldnt remember the gas station in Birmingham, but he supplied the name of the antique store and the home center outlet. McBride would put a couple of the task force officers on the job of tracking down the mans movements on Friday morning.

Back to Mrs. Walters for a momentI understand you showed up at Westview Elementary one afternoon about a month ago, when she was picking up Abby. McBride watched Leonardi carefully as he spoke. The dark-haired mans eyes widened, dilating with alarm. Good. Thats what convinced her to threaten you with a restraining order, wasnt it?

Leonardi looked down at his hands. I just wanted to talk to her. I wanted her to tell me why shed decided to end it.

She said you were a transition, didnt she? Just a post-divorce ego stroke.

Leonardi blanched. It was more than that to me.

But not her. And you couldnt take no for an answer?

I didnt think shed really given us a chance. She has these friends telling her she should go out, have fun, not tie herself down. Dont just settle for the first guy who comes along, Debbie. Have some fun, Debbie.

How do you know what her friends said, Mr. Leonardi? McBride leaned forward. Did you tap her phones? Did you put a bug in her house? What?

He pressed his lips tightly together. I want a lawyer.

Youre not under arrest. Why would you need a lawyer?

Leonardis baleful gaze was his only answer.

When you showed up at the schoolhowd you know what time Debra would be picking up Abby? Had you followed her before?

Leonardi didnt answer.

Maybe you know somebody who works there, McBride suggested, tapping the folder on the interview table. He flipped it open, exposing an enlarged photocopy of Lily Brownings drivers license photo from the DMV database.

Leonardis gaze shifted down to the table as McBride intended. His brow furrowed slightly as his gaze skimmed over the photo, but beyond that, he had no reaction.

Not what McBride had been expecting, but he wasnt ready to discount the idea that Lily Browning had a part in Abby Walterss disappearance. Know what I think, Mr. Leonardi? I think you have a friend who works at the school. She told you when the first grade would be letting out in the afternoon so youd know exactly when to show up. Did she know about your plans for Friday, too?

Leonardis eyes filled with tears. I didnt kill Debbie. Dont you get it? I lost her, too, just like her friends and her family and her jerk of an ex-husband did. Why arent you talking to him? Dont you always look at the husband first?

McBride had already talked to Walters Friday evening, going over his alibi in detail. Over the weekend hed been able to validate all the times and places Walters had supplied. Of course, it was possible Walters had hired someone to kill his ex-wife, but the autopsy report McBride had found sitting on his desk first thing that morning suggested that Debra Walterss skull fracture might have been accidental, the result of a struggle with the carjackers.

They couldnt even be sure it was anything but a random carjacking. Debra Walterss Lexus hadnt shown up anywhere yet.

Neither had Abby Walters.

McBrides captain had left it up to him to put together a task force for the case. After contacting the FBI and the local sheriffs department to supply their own officers for the team, McBride had picked six of the best cops on the Borland force to assist him.

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