Chapter Fifteen

The moment he heard Kat’s shaky voice on the phone, Jake dropped what he was doing and climbed into his truck. Within minutes of her call he was knocking on her door, wrapping his arms around her trembling body and kissing her until her nerves drained away and she finally relaxed in his arms.

“Do you think it’s Nick Peters?” she asked as she pulled away.

The time for reassurance had gone. Now it was time for honesty. “Yes, I do. It’s the type of twisted stunt a yellow belly like him might dream up. A way to get his own back by trying to frighten you.”

“Well he’s doing a bloody good job.” He heard Kat take in a deep breath as she tried to calm herself. “Sorry, I don’t mean to overreact, but God. I can take the nasty message, the evil artwork, if that’s all it will be. But what’s his next step?” She started to pace and he could almost see the cogs in her mind spinning, working overtime to keep up with her thoughts. “I mean, he started wide with the school, narrowed it down to the street, but now he’s made his message crystal clear. It’s me he’s watching.”

“Hey, I know.” He took her hand and led her over to the sofa, gently pushing her down and sitting down next to her. “Where’s Molly? Does she know what’s going on?”

Kat shook her head. “I’ve told her it’s a former pupil being a bit naughty. She’s not worried. At the moment she’s playing in her room.”

“Okay, good.” He bit back on the feeling of disquiet that was still lodged in his stomach and focused instead on calming down Kat. “I’ll go back to the station. I asked them to keep an eye on Peters. I’m sure they’ll have something on him. Don’t worry. Watch telly. Play with Molly. Do the ironing. Make yourself a cup of tea.” He tried to smile, hoping it would give her confidence. “Do whatever you have to do to take your mind off this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

His attempt at cheery optimism clearly wasn’t that convincing because Kat didn’t smile back like she usually did. Instead her eyes dropped down to her trembling hands. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold the damn iron,” she muttered.

“Better not attempt any brain surgery either, then.”

She let out a wobbly laugh.

Clasping her hands in his, he brought them up to his lips and kissed each of her palms. Then he leant over and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure we’ll find out that Peters is behind this,” he told her quietly before standing up. “And when we do I’ll make damn sure he doesn’t come within a hundred yards of you ever again.”

****

An hour later, Jake drove back to Kat’s feeling even more agitated. According to the officer he’d spoken to at the local station, they’d put a tail on Nick Peters yesterday and followed him all day. He hadn’t called in on Kat’s. And yes, the officer had emphatically replied when pushed further, they were certain. What was more, they’d searched Peters’s house and garage and found nothing to indicate he had anything to do with the sinister artwork; there was no wet paintbrush, not even any white paint. As the officer had gone on to say, much as they’d love to arrest Nick Peters for intimidation, because he was a nasty piece of work, there was no evidence to suggest he was actually behind any of it. It was a possibility that he’d persuaded someone else to do the work on his behalf, but unless that could be proven, Peters was in the clear.

All of which meant that Jake was back to square one. Only now it was worse. Peters was a small-time criminal. Believing it had been him winding Kat up had been a nice, neat conclusion, one that Jake could tolerate because he’d never really thought Peters was out to hurt Kat. Just to scare her a little. Now, it could be anyone after Kat.

A wave of cold, dark dread settled over his heart. He tried to tell himself he was being illogical. There was no evidence to suggest Kat was in danger; whoever was behind this had only said they were watching. Maybe they were a voyeur, which was unpleasant enough but ultimately harmless. He argued this to himself as he drove the final few miles to her cottage, but it didn’t seem to help. By the time he arrived back at Kat’s house, his heart was thumping loudly in his chest, and he could almost taste his fear.

Climbing out of the truck, he noticed the forensic team were already there, dusting down her door, hoping for fingerprints. Of any sort of evidence that could help them track down the perpetrator. As he began to crunch up the drive, images he’d determinedly buried began to reform in his mind, bringing him out in a cold sweat. The crime scene. The desperation to find clues when there were none. The not knowing who. Or why.

He wiped at his brow, disgusted to find himself sweating. No, he couldn’t, wouldn’t think about the past. Not when there was enough to worry about right here and now. Swiftly he returned to his truck and pulled out a cloth from the glove compartment, which he used to wipe the clammy moisture off his face. After throwing the cloth back onto the passenger seat he braced his shoulders, shoved his hands into his pockets, and strode back up the drive.

He found Kat in the front room, talking to one of the uniforms. She looked up when he entered and gave him a weak smile before returning her attention to the officer.

“As I’ve already told you,” she continued, a slight edge to her voice that he could put down to worry or frustration. “I really don’t know who could be doing this. As far as I’m aware, I don’t have any enemies. You might not believe this, but as a rule I don’t go around pissing people off.”

Frustration it was then, he thought. Good. Better for her to be angry than afraid.

“Sorry, Miss.” The police officer didn’t look sorry. Bored, maybe, but far from sympathetic. “I know you’ve had enough of us being here, but we need to go through this again. The more we talk about it, the more it sometimes sparks a memory.”

****

Kat was, indeed, angry. And she’d definitely had more than enough. It was hard to tolerate the crew of men outside, pawing over her driveway. Even harder to see Molly, who had previously been oblivious to what was going on, now sticking anxiously to her side like glue. But apparently she was also expected to go through the same inane questions over and over again. Kat knew it didn’t matter how many times this po-faced officer went through her dull and boring past, she wouldn’t be able to come up with a name of anyone who would want to terrify her. Other than Nick Peters of course, and apparently they’d already crossed him off their list of suspects. It left a list with no names on it. Not much of a list.

“We can talk until we’re blue in the face, officer,” she informed him, biting down on her anger, “but I won’t be able to come up with any more names. I’m just not that type of person. I don’t lead that sort of life.” She started to move away, but Molly was still wrapped round her like a limpet.

Expelling a deep breath, Kat bent down and lifted her pale-faced daughter into her arms. “Please, can I ask you to leave us now. It’s time I gave my daughter some attention. If I think of anything else, I’ll give you a call.”

The policeman must have realized he was on a hiding to nothing because he finally nodded his head in agreement and marshalled everybody out of the cottage.

Jake, who’d been standing silently in the corner since he’d arrived, a tall, watchful presence, immediately walked over to them and reached out his arms to her daughter.

“Hey, Molly. How’s that Wendy house of yours looking? Have you put anything inside it yet? Will you show me?”

Without a word Molly thrust her arms around Jake’s neck and let herself be carried outside. As he ducked his head to get through the door, Jake turned and gave her a small smile of understanding.

The moment they were out of view, Kat plonked herself down on the sofa, put her head in her hands, and gave in to the tears she’d been desperately holding back while Molly was around. She cried because she was scared, because she was frightened for her daughter, and for herself. However, after a few minutes of wallowing in self-pity she splashed her face with cold water, grimaced at the pale, red-eyed image staring back at her in the mirror, and went to make the tea.

When Molly and Jake wandered back in half an hour later, the transformation in her daughter was remarkable. Her cheeks were rosy from being outdoors, and the chatter was back. During tea she even comically rolled her eyes at Jake’s poor jokes. Kat had worried that some of Molly’s earlier concerns would surface when she put her to bed, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. Her daughter simply raised a sleepy eye, kissed her good night, rolled over, and went straight to sleep.

For a few minutes Kat stood and watched her beautiful daughter. She looked so peaceful, so innocent; it tore at her heart. Please, God, don’t let anything happen to her, she found herself praying as she carefully closed the door and went slowly back downstairs.

She found Jake in the kitchen, making them both a drink. The sight of his large, very masculine frame standing next to the pretty floral curtains almost made her smile. Almost made her forget the nightmare of the last few hours. At that moment he turned toward her, his face lined with concern. “How is she?”

“Whatever you did, playing outside in the Wendy house, it worked. When I put her to bed she was my daughter again, instead of the pale, quiet imitation I’d been looking at ever since the police arrived. She went out like a light.”

He handed her a steaming mug of tea. “And what about you? How are you feeling?”

Accepting the drink gratefully, she sat down at the breakfast bar. “I’m trying to put a brave face on it all.” Her voice started to crack and, unbidden, tears she’d thought she’d cried out earlier began to fall again. “And apparently failing,” she added on a shaky laugh.

Wordlessly Jake lifted her mug off the table and took it through to the sitting room. Then he sat down on her small sofa and pointed to the space next to him.

“Come and sit next to me.” When she sidled in, he put his arm around her and hugged her tight. “It’s okay to feel afraid, Kat,” he told her in his deep, comforting voice. “Most people would in your position. The unknown always makes us fearful, and at the moment that’s exactly what we have. The unknown.”

“I’m a good person, Jake. At least most of the time. Why would someone want to scare me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Kat. It might still be Peters. Just because he has an alibi, doesn’t mean he didn’t have a hand in it.”

They stayed there for a while, Kat taking solace from his presence. The solid warmth of his body. “Jake, I’m terrified someone is going to try and hurt me, or worse still, Molly.”

“Hey, come on, don’t think like that. There’s a big difference between scaring someone and actually harming them.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t stop me feeling terrified.” She moved away a little so she could look at him. “Would you stay with me, with the both of us, until this is over? I’d feel so much better if you were here to protect us.”

One minute he was sitting close to her, offering comfort. The next he went as stiff as a board and leapt to his feet, swearing crudely.

“Jake? What is it?”

He shook his head and twisted away from her.

“Christ, Jake, don’t do this to me. Now you’re the one that’s scaring me.”

With that he turned round but still he kept his distance. His face was pale and drawn, his eyes refusing to look at her. “Sorry, Kat. It’s just...” He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. When he opened them again she briefly sensed some sort of internal agony, before he hid it behind the implacable mask that she hated. “I can’t protect you.”

Stunned, she gaped at him. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.” He began to pace the room, looking everywhere but at her. “I know of some good men, Kat. I’ll give them a call. They will stay with you. Provide round-the-clock protection.”

She couldn’t believe she was hearing this. The man she was falling in love with, the one she’d hoped cared for her too. He was standing there saying he wasn’t going to look after her. “Let me get this straight, Jake. In my hour of need, you’re not prepared to put yourself out by coming to stay with me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re happy to let someone I don’t know come and sleep in my house instead?” she demanded incredulously.

“You don’t know them, but someone I trust, does. They’re good men. Highly capable.”

“You really think that what I need right now is someone I don’t know, living in my house? Sleeping along the corridor from me and Molly?” If she hadn’t been so upset, she would have laughed. “I don’t bloody think so. I thought we had something between us, Jake. I thought you’d actually want to look after us.” Anger flashed through her, and she welcomed the burn as it detracted from the vicious ache that had settled over her heart. “I can see I got that totally wrong. You might want to have sex with me, but when the going gets tough, you’re off.”

“Kat, no.” His voice held a raw edge that for once he wasn’t disguising. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I’ve already told you. Don’t you see? I can’t...” As she stared at him, shocked, tears formed in his eyes. “I can’t look after you both.”

“Then I suggest you leave now,” she told him coldly.

Jake turned and stumbled out of the house without a backward glance.

Kat stared disbelievingly at the open door. He knew she was upset, scared, yet he’d still gone. How had she read him so terribly badly? This was the second time in her life she’d trusted a man. The second time she’d been let down by one. Grabbing at the empty mugs she clattered them into the sink. She was damned if there was ever going to be a third.

She scrubbed at the cups like a woman possessed, as if by cleaning Jake’s mug it would miraculously wipe out all traces of him from her life, and her heart. It was only as she looked up to find the towel to dry them with that she realized Jake hadn’t driven off yet. He was still in his truck, crouched over the steering wheel, his head in his hands. For all the world, it looked like he was weeping.

Clenching at the towel in her hands, Kat found herself unable to look away from the window. Despite the fact that he’d hurt her, that he’d kicked her when she was already down, the desire to rush out and check up on him was almost overwhelming. Maybe he was simply thinking. Perhaps even having second thoughts about leaving her. Just as her heart began to lift, he sat up and drove away.

****

In his dive of a bedsit, Wade yanked off his trainers, opened a can and threw himself onto his lumpy bed. His plan was setting up nicely, he thought with a satisfied grin. Before he reached the grand finale, he had one more ace up his sleeve. One more chance to turn the fear factor up a notch, for both the cop and his lady. Once he’d done that, Holroyd was going to finally know who was after him. Well, not exactly who, Wade realized with a snigger. But he’d know enough to put the fear of God into him. Enough that he’d spend every moment from then on looking over his shoulder, freaking quaking in his boots, terrified that history was about to repeat itself.

And it was. Only this time around Wade was actually going to look into the cop’s eyes as he watched the bastard suffer the agony of another loss.