She was supposed to be a different sort of creature, dedicated to knowledge and beauty, not a slave to her baser drives and emotions.
Marisol Mendez had been a great disappointment to him.
JAKE COOPER DRAGGED A large piece of aluminum siding away from the remains of what once had been a split-level home. The tornado had ripped it off its foundation and set it back down sideways, what was left of its front door now facing the house next door, which had barely lost a shingle from its roof.
Tornadoes. Don, the man helping Jake dig through the rubble, shook his head. Fickle sons of bitches.
The warning siren had forewarned residents to go to their places of safety. But little could survive the power of an F5 tornado. Somewhere in the twisted bowels of this split-level house, a family of four had been trapped when the tornado hit. Neighbors thought theyd heard shouts for help earlier, but as morning crept toward noon, whoever lay inside had fallen silent.
There was little heavy-moving equipment available in Buckley, Mississippi, to begin with, and all were in use a few blocks over, where the tornado had flattened three full blocks of homes. Here, the tornado had danced along, touching down with random violence, toppling a house here, sparing one there.
Theres a bathroom right around here, Don said as they neared the heart of the house. He grabbed one end of a broken fireplace mantel and tugged. Theyd hunker down there.
Jake grabbed the other side of the heavy mantel and helped Don haul it aside.
Need some help?
At the sound of a new voice, Jake looked up. A few feet away, a stocky man with black hair and weather-beaten features watched them, drenched by the steady falling drizzle.
You bet. Don waved the man in. Im Don, this is Jake.
Cooper, Jake supplied. Jake Cooper.
Victor Logan, the stocky man said with a nod.
We think there are folks trapped in here, Jake explained as they reached the part of the house still standing. The walls here sagged but held.
This should be the bathroom. Don gestured toward a closed door blocked by the remains of a heavy oak wardrobe.
We need some sort of leverage, Victor suggested. Something to wrap around it to haul it out of the way.
I have rope in my garage. Don lived next door in the house that had sustained no real damage. He headed out.
We need as much as possible, Victor called after him.
I dont know how we can set up a pulley. Jake gazed at the cracked remains of the ceiling. The exposed beams overhead didnt look as if theyd hold up if a bird alighted on them, much less take the weight of the wardrobe.
If the ropes long enough, we can wrap it around that tree there and get enough torque to move the armoire out from in front of the door, Victor said.
Jake gave the man a grateful smile. You an engineer?
Victor gave him an odd look. Sort of. How about you?
Im a fishing guide, here for a tournament at Flint Creek Reservoir this weekend. Guess thats not going to happen now.
Don came back carrying an enormous coil of sturdy nylon rope. Think this will be enough?
Victor looked at Jake through slightly narrowed eyes before taking the rope. Tie this end to the armoire, while I wrap the other end around the tree.
Jake helped Don secure the rope around the heavy wardrobe. You should stay up here and make sure the armoire doesnt swing into the wall, he suggested when the rope was secured. Ill help Vic out there pull the rope.
Don nodded his agreement, looking a little sheepish. He was in his late forties and a little on the heavy side; he was already breathing hard and looking worn out from their exertions. Jake was young and fit, and though Victor was at least ten years older, he looked trim and strong, as if he worked out every day.
Jake joined him at the tree, where he was looping the rope around the oaks sturdy trunk. We ready?
Victor gave a nod. Dont let the rope snag on the bark.
Here. Jake took off his windbreaker and wrapped it around the trunk of the oak, tying the arms together to hold it in place and provide a flat, snag-free surface for the rope.
Victor gave him an approving nod and drew the rope across the windbreaker. On the count of three.
On three, Jake started pulling his end of the rope, digging his feet into the ground. Two days of rain had softened the lawn, making it hard to stay planted without slipping, but Jake fought for balance and held on. A couple of feet in front of him, Victor grabbed the rope and added his strength.
The rope began moving, slowly but steadily. Within a minute, Jake heard Don call out for them to stop. Its out of the way! Were in!
Jake ran back into the house. Don had the door open and was staring into what was left of the bathroom. A gaping hole above let in rain and light to illuminate the debris scattered all around the bathroom, including an enormous jagged slab of mirrored wall that had come to rest against the tub.
Bill, are you in there? Don called from the doorway.
Were okay, I think, came a mans voice. A few broken bones, some cuts and scrapes, but were all still kickin. Just help us get out of here!
Grinning with relief, Jake looked at Don. I think the paramedics are all down the road, but the teams at the staging area can reach them by radioyou could go down there and let them know were going to need help.
Ill go, Victor volunteered quickly.
Okay, Jake agreed, a little surprised. Victor had seemed intent on helping out here just a few minutes earlier. Hey, do me a favormy wife Mariahs helping out at the staging tent. Shes probably worried about me by now. Can you tell her Im fine and Ill be there soon? Mariah Cooper. Shes about five-eight, long black hair, gray eyes, gorgeousyou cant miss her.
Will do, Victor agreed, an odd light shining in his eyes. He turned and hurried away.
Ready to do this? Don asked, waving at the mess in the bathroom trapping the family in the tub.
Jake nodded. Stepping carefully into the mess, he went to work, putting Victors strange expression out of his mind.
MARIAH WAS CROUCHED BEHIND the water table, opening a new case of bottled water, when she heard a voice as familiar as a nightmare. She stood quickly, banging her head against the edge of the table so hard she saw stars for a moment.
When her vision cleared, she saw a short, muscular man with midnight-black hair flecked with silver standing in front of one of the emergency dispatch stations, rattling off an address. Her heart fluttered wildly before settling into a gallop.
Victor.
As if shed spoken the name aloud, Victor Logan turned his head toward her. His black eyes gleamed with predatory excitement. Mariahs first instinct was to take flight, but she was trapped between the table and the wall of the tent, other volunteers blocking her means of exit. She could do nothing but stand there, like a bird in a snare, while Victor walked the short distance to her table.
He bared his teeth at her in a horrible smile. So, Marisol. Its been a while.
She tried to speak but nothing emerged from her throat.
I have news of your husband. Quite the hero, your husband. Big, strapping, strong fellow. He asked me to tell you hes fine. Victors smile widened. For now.
Chapter Two
Mariah clutched the edge of the table, her fingertips stinging from the pressure of her grip. She found her voice, though it came out faint and strangled. What have you done?
I told you, hes fine. Victor picked up one of the bottles sitting on the table in front of her. He made a show of studying the label.
Mariah stepped backward until she felt the canvas of the tent against her back. What do you want?
Victor didnt answer, twisting the top off the water bottle. He took a long swig, his eyes never leaving hers.
Mariah clenched and unclenched her fists, eyeing him warily, like a cornered mouse watching a very large, very hungry cat. To her right, the volunteer blocking her exit route moved away, leaving her an unexpected opening.
But before she could make a move in that direction, Victor stepped into the gap, reading her intentions.
Shed forgotten how well he knew her.
He screwed the cap back onto the water bottle. You havent told him you were a street whore, have you?
Though he didnt speak loudly enough for anyone else to hear him, humiliation poured over Mariah in waves of heat. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching. But they were all too involved in their own efforts to pay any attention to the two of them.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted her chin. I was never a whore.
So you say.
She lowered her voice to a growl. The closest I ever came was living under your roof and letting you manipulate me into being your special project.
I gave you an education you sorely lacked.
My education was all part of the game you played with my life. Anger overcame her lingering sense of shame. It was all about you, all along. The puppeteer, pulling all the strings
His brows converged over his long nose. Apparently I failed to teach you gratitude.
Im grateful you helped me when I needed a hand. She softened her voice. But it should have ended there. It certainly didnt give you the right to kill the man I loved because you could no longer control me.
It was an accident, he said automatically. The declaration sounded no more believable now than it had when hed first put it forward as his defense. My foot missed the brake pedal. Im very sorry about it.
Hearing his insincere words of regret sickened Mariah. I want you to leave me alone, Victor. You dont need the trouble, I imagine. He had to be on parole to be out of jail this early. Hed been sentenced three to five years, and he was out after only four.
Neither do you, I imagine, Victor countered blithely, his mouth curving in a cruel smile Mariah found horribly familiar. I wonder, which of us will give in first?
Before she could respond, he tucked his water bottle in the pocket of his jacket, turned on his heel and left the tent, heading out into the rain.
Mariah turned unsteadily back to the table and laid her hands flat on the hard, cool surface, trying to regain her balance. A soft swishing noise rose in her ears, and for a moment, she was afraid she was going to faint.
Are you okay? One of the other volunteers put her hand on Mariahs arm.
Mariah nodded, her head beginning to clear. Yeah. Just a head rush. Im fine.
Why dont you sit down? the woman suggested.
Actually, Id like to get some air, Mariah countered, buttoning up her jacket. She pulled a baseball cap from her pocket and put it on, tucking her hair up under the fabric crown. Bringing the bill low over her face, she hurried past the puzzled woman and stepped into the rain.
She started walking east at a brisk clip, toward the subdivision where Jake had gone about an hour earlier to aid a man whod flagged him down, seeking help for neighbors trapped in their storm-shattered home. Hed been away almost an hour now.
She needed to see him, and not because she needed something familiar and stable to calm her rattled nerves, though that was also true. She needed to know he was okay. If Victor had done anything to him, she wasnt sure how shed ever live with it.
Not again.
When she found him, shed convince him to cut short their plans to help in the rescue and take her back home to Gossamer Ridge and their cozy bungalow overlooking the lake. Shed pick up her son Micah from the lake house where he was staying with Jakes parents and never leave Chickasaw County again.
She never shouldve come back here in the first place.
When Jake had told her hed signed them up for their first couples fishing tournament, shed found the prospect exciting. Hed been the one whod taught her to fish, whod cheered her improvements and praised her skills every time she muscled a largemouth bass from around a stump or teased a finicky spawning female away from her eggs with an expert twitch of a lure. Shed worked hard to prove herself a good student, to make him proud, and the idea of fishing a tournament with him had seemed like a huge pay-off for her efforts.
Shed been a good sport about having to stay in a motel a half hour north of Flint Creek Reservoir since Jake had waited till the last moment to sign them up and had missed the chance at rooms closer to the lake. Since this trip was their first without three-year-old Micah, shed even thought the extra privacy, away from the constant presence of their fellow competitors, might turn the trip into the honeymoon theyd never had the chance to take.
Until hed told her theyd be staying in Buckley.
As she walked, Mariah also scanned the area for any sign of Victor. But he was nowhere in sight.
For a second, she entertained the welcome thought that shed simply imagined his presence there, in the same place where shed last seen him four years earlier. The last twelve hours had seemed like a harrowing nightmare rather than reality, as she and Jake had weathered the destructive storm unscathed, only to wake to find a community broken and mourning the tragic aftermath.
Maybe being in Buckley, this beautiful, horrible place shed thought shed left behind for good, had conjured up the phantom of Victor Logan after all this time. Or maybe it was the specter of violent death resurrecting long-buried memories, each broken body pulled from the debris and zipped into a body bag a stark reminder of that day, not so very long ago, when shed watched paramedics back away from Micah Daviss bloody, broken body and declare he was beyond saving.
Mariah faltered to a halt, the memories shed tried to bury so long ago rising like bile to fill her mind with bitter acid.
Victor had run him down like a stray dog in the street. Shed seen it happen, could now remember every sound, every violent flash of motion and color. If she let it, the memory could play out in an endless, horrible loop, over and over until she felt madness creeping over her in greasy black waves.
She pressed her hands over her face, struggling to push away the memory. She had to keep it hidden, even from herself. It wasnt part of her life now. It couldnt be. Not if she wanted Micah Daviss son to have a good life with the decent man willing to be his father, almost no questions asked.
Jake didnt know anything about her real past.
And if she was lucky, he never would.
Baby, are you okay?
She looked up sharply at the sound, half afraid shed only imagined her husbands voice. But Jake stood a few feet away at the side of an unfamiliar street. She looked around, realizing shed reached the damage zone more quickly than expected. She now stood across the street from a house the tornado had lifted off its foundation and set back down sideways. The side of the house now facing her had been ripped away, revealing the ruined interior of what had once probably been a nice family home. Emergency vehicles idled at the curb, lights flashing.