Steve was surprised, but not annoyed, when he found Candy parked out in front of his motel room in her official SUV.
Well, well, well, he thought as he joined her. Was she becoming interested? Or just answering her budding cop’s instincts that something other than a ghost was going on?
“What did Wittes tell you?” she asked.
“Oh, some stuff about an angry man hanging around and a woman who was mad because she’d been killed.”
Candy sighed. “Sounds awfully familiar.”
“Yeah. But he gets another bite at the apple tomorrow. If he has no more to add that doesn’t fit in with what Tate told us, he’s out. As it is, my producer would have to run him through a car wash and a barbershop and buy him new clothes.”
“Would she?”
Steve chucked quietly. “She’d have to. Think of audience reactions if he appears looking like he came off skid row.” Then he paused. “Guess that’s unfair to homeless people.”
“It is,” she agreed. “Many are vets, to begin with. Then there’s the fact you can only sink so low before you have no chance at a job anymore.”
Steve knew that to be true. In his job he’d dealt with many homeless people, like one guy who worked six days a week as a dishwasher in a restaurant. Not enough money to get an apartment, but he wasn’t at all what people thought of when they thought of the homeless. He’d heard too many stories like that.
“Are you planning to stay all night?” Steve asked her.
“Believe it.”
He let it go. He was sure she had her reasons, but equally sure he wouldn’t like some of them. Better not to know. Hell, she was probably suspicious of him again. She’d started there, so why wouldn’t she finish there?
So much for his sense that she was coming to believe he wasn’t running a con. Maybe Wittes had something to do with that. Well, he was wondering if Wittes was a con, too.
Some people, he reminded himself, just wanted the attention.
The Castelles welcomed them pleasantly enough and said the three of them were going to their bedroom for the night.
“No TV,” Steve admonished them.
“We get it,” Todd replied. “Can one of us at least read to Viv until she falls asleep?”
“Sure,” said Steve. “Before it gets really dark, which is soon, I want to check out the foundation around her room. I’ve got some good light with me, so maybe we’ll check out the barn, too.”
“Be careful of your footing out there,” Todd warned. “The floor is uneven and old.”
Then the family disappeared into the back.
“The foundation?” Candy asked.
“Everything. It would make this easier if you’d shine a light from the far side as I go. I want to see if there are any openings at all.”
“For rats or mice?” she asked humorously.
“For loose stones that might make a man-sized opening if they were moved.”
He could see that she approved. Good. He was no fly-by-night who’d overlook something that obvious.
Then the barn, which could be a good hiding place since the Castelles rarely went out there, if they even had since they bought this land.
Barns. There were lots of spooky stories around them. It would please his fans to see him investigate a derelict outbuilding, not that that was his reason. Nope. He wasn’t in the business of skipping over possibilities.
An hour later, the two of them sat on the cold-hardened ground, leaning back against the foundation.
“Something isn’t right,” Steve said.
“How so? We didn’t find any light shining through anywhere.”
“And that’s what’s wrong.” He realized that he was sitting on a stone and lifted himself a bit to pull it away. “One stone. I always find it when sleeping in a tent.”
She laughed quietly. “Me, too.”
“Anyway, as to what’s wrong. Does that foundation look like it’s sagged anywhere?”
She thought for a minute. “Actually, no.”
“Well, it should have, if it’s sitting on bare earth. There must be a slab of some kind under that room.”
“That tells us what?”
He stared toward the darkened hulk of the barn. “Maybe nothing. I couldn’t see anywhere that it was open, and I sure didn’t see anything in Viv’s room that looked like even the smallest door. Besides, how would anyone get in there without becoming stuck for fear of discovery? I’ll have to think about it.”
“Yeah. I will, too.”
“Anyway, tomorrow the barn.” He’d changed his mind about doing it tonight. It was so dark he wasn’t sure the few lights would be enough for the close search he wanted.
Even in the darkness he could sense her looking his way. “How could that possibly be involved?”
“I don’t know. That’s for me to find out. Come with?”
“Sure. I’m starting to enjoy this. What’s next?”
That was good news, he thought. In a way it was like a treasure hunt.
“Let’s go back inside. I’m planning to stay in Viv’s room tonight to see if I can hear anything. I’m mostly convinced that some sound is traveling through her wall, either up or down. Or it could be a sound bouncing off the wall. I hope I get to hear it.”
“And me?”
“I’d like you in the attic, close to that wall. Maybe you’ll catch something.” He paused. “I hope I can find something rational tonight, just to put that kid out of her misery.”
“Let’s go. It’s getting cold out here.”
“Yeah.”
The house was warmer by far, however much he’d been warned that it would be chilly. From the sounds, everyone was asleep now. Good.
“It’s going to be cold up there,” Steve said.
“Some of the house’s heat will get up there. Anyway, I’m dressed for the outdoors.”
“I hope you can get comfortable.”
But there was nothing he could do about that. Maybe one of the lingering pieces of furniture would help with that.
First, he climbed to the attic to make sure all the equipment was working.
“Since we’re listening for sounds, you can keep the lights on. Anyway, the mind tries to fill in the darkness.”
“I’m familiar with that.”
He supposed she was. Then he headed down to the basement and checked everything. If there were any noises down there, the recorders should catch it.
Then back to Viv’s room. He debated whether to lie on the bed, then decided he could sit on the floor with his head against the wall.
Settled against the wall, he listened to a house as quiet as any could be. The heat kicking on, rattling the floor vents just a little. Wind against the windows.
And nothing that sounded remotely like a voice.
He settled in for a long, uncomfortable night.
* * *
AT ABOUT FOUR in the morning, he heard it. A faint voice, as if it came from far away. Too faint to make out words, but with the rhythms of speech.
Annoyed that he couldn’t just start running upstairs and down, he hoped it wasn’t too faint for the recorders to pick up. It shouldn’t be.
Then the sound stopped. A few minutes later, Candy came down from the attic.
“Steve,” she whispered. “Sorry for deserting my post, but I heard a faint voice.”
He stood, bending and twisting to work out the night’s stiffness. “Me, too. Well, we know it’s there. And now we know it’s traveling through a wall. Either we have a wandering spirit or we’ve got something with a real cause. Let’s close down for the night and let the recorders do their work.”
“Then?”
“I’m going to think hard about where that sound could be coming from and what could cause it. Because something sure as hell is.”
* * *
CANDY WAS A bit shaken by having heard the voice. She hadn’t expected to hear anything at all. Not a thing. She’d wanted to believe this was a wild-goose chase, even though they needed to help Vivian.
But how could they go to the parents and say that Vivian was hearing something real, but they couldn’t solve the problem?
Although, according to Steve, he’d done that before. But she didn’t believe that simply saying it was no threat would make Vivian feel any better. She was too young for that.
As they drove back to town, she glanced at the time. “Too late to try to sleep,” she said, although she wanted to desperately.
“Same here. Maybe I’ll go to the truck stop and load up on caffeine and an early breakfast.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“I’d like that.”
And he definitely would. “Your computer still searching?”
“It was when I left the office. Two possibilities. I want more.”
“I can sure understand that. Maybe we can brainstorm our problem a bit.”
Any excuse, she thought. She was strangely reluctant to leave Steve. Man, this was getting complicated, and about more than the Castelles.
She gave up. Changes were afoot inside her, and she didn’t know how to stop them. She was just going to have to live with a hole deep inside when he left town.
The prospect was gloomy.
* * *
THE DINER WAS warm enough, but not hot. Long-haul trucks filled the parking lot, growling as drivers let them run. Maybe some were sleeping in their cabs. They might find it easier to drive on dark roads, but sleep made demands, too. Plus, they probably couldn’t drive more than a certain number of hours at a stretch by law.
The diner, as well as warm enough, was busy. No doubt this was the time when the business made most of its money. They were surrounded by drivers digging into hearty breakfasts.
Which was exactly what Steve intended to do. Two sides of ham, for one. Four eggs. Four slices of toast, and something called a cheesy potato casserole.
Candy wasn’t far behind in her order. Apparently being up all night made her hungry, too. She spread marmalade on her toast while he was content with the butter.
“Any ideas?” she asked. “We haven’t discovered any way that a human could get close enough to that house to make that voice.”
“It’s bothering you, huh?”
She frowned at her scrambled eggs. “Yeah, it is. I don’t believe in woo-woo. That was...”
“Like woo-woo,” he agreed. “I’d suggest a speaker of some kind, maybe automatically timed. But I think I’d have found something like that in the basement.”
“Or in the wall?”
He shook his head. “I’m finding it hard to believe that a local electrician would have anything to do with that. Besides, they had the work done in their office. No joint wall with Vivian’s room.”
“That room kind of sticks out into nowhere,” she remarked. “For myself I think I’d have used that for an office and given Vivian the office space.”
“That’s an idea. Maybe I’ll suggest it if we can’t find an answer.” Now he frowned. “I can think of one person who might have put a speaker in a wall, and it’s not an electrician.”
“Todd.”
He sighed and reached for his ham, beginning to slice it into mouth-sized pieces. “I’ve seen too much, Candy, but this is one I don’t want to believe even though I’ve seen similar situations in the past.”
“I hear you.” She absolutely did. “Maybe we should have checked the office for the sounds.”
“I’m certainly going to get around to it. At this point, though, I’m more worried about another agent. Now that could be a significant physical threat.”
“What about a serious talk with Todd about his past?”
“Next on the menu. Maybe before the barn.”
Candy nodded. “I think it’s time.”
Then he shocked her to her very core. “After this is over...”
She looked at him, waiting attentively.
“Man, I can’t believe I’m going to be this boorish. Candy, I want you. But even more importantly, I want to get to know you. Really know you. You’re like a puzzle box, and I want to turn the key.”
She couldn’t catch her breath. What was he saying? Sex was one thing, a dangerous thing, especially for women who tended to get emotionally involved. “I’m not a puzzle, Steve.”
It was the only objection she could honestly offer.
“I’m not sure I meant it that way. Or maybe you are. But more and more I need to know you better outside this hunt. I’m fascinated.”
Nobody had ever claimed to be fascinated by her before. Nor had anyone ever tried to get to know her much beyond the surface.
Her squad had known her as a soldier. They knew how much they could depend on her, what kind of fighter she was, but they’d never really gotten personal. Maybe because when you got to know someone under those circumstances, grief might not be far behind. Besides, the guys had been pretty much superficial with each other. Gab about letters from home, pictures of the kids. Sexual exploits.
Easy-to-share stuff.
Some of them had seemed to grow deeper friendships, but what had really mattered was the brotherhood, and she’d been invited inside it. She had become one of them.
But there were plenty of places none of them went, as far as she knew. Self-protection. Like the saying, Don’t get to know the FNGs. The freaking new guys. Because they were inexperienced, they might be gone soon.
But now here was a guy who wanted to get past that point with her. She hadn’t wanted to risk sex with him, but this was an even bigger risk.
She cleared her throat. “You’ll be leaving in a couple of weeks.”
“I’m talking about hanging around for a while. About building a friendship that can last longer than this job. Just think about it, if you can. If you don’t want to...” He shrugged. “I’m a boor and you can just pretend I never said that.”
Pretend was the right word for it, because it would be pretending. God, what to do now?
She honestly didn’t know. All she knew was that with a few words he’d made her ache for a future she’d never believed would happen.
It also meant getting raw and exposed and vulnerable in ways she wasn’t sure she could anymore.
“Thank you,” she said finally and left it there. For safety’s sake.
* * *
STEVE WANTED TO kick himself in the butt for pushing her that way. But there seemed to be no way to really get through to Candy that wasn’t blunt. All the cards on the table where she could see them. Maybe no more suspicion about what he might want from her.
If she believed him, anyway.
Hell’s bells. He’d never wanted to get that close to a woman, but now he did. A fling was one thing. This was no fling he was talking about. He didn’t know where it might lead, if it ever happened, but with this woman he wanted to chance it.
After Candy left for the office and he settled on the bed in his motel room, he dragged his thoughts away from her and tossed around the Castelle case like a ball, one side to the other. Maybe mentally batting it against the wall.
He wanted to shake something out, but he still didn’t have enough. He was by no means ready to ascribe all this to paranormal entities, residual energy or anything like that.
Proof. He always demanded it and hated it when he couldn’t find any. There had been cases when all he could do was assure people they weren’t in any danger. This time he couldn’t even do that because of Todd’s past.
Usually there was no measurable threat, just people who mainly wanted to be assured they weren’t losing their minds. He understood that.
But this was different because of Vivian. There was no evidence that anyone or anything wanted to harm her physically, but that wasn’t enough. She was being harmed in another way, a vital way.
Todd was willing to ditch the house and move. Steve would have given him props for that except it was possible that he knew how Annabelle would respond, knowing she wouldn’t want to leave.
Or it might be that Todd didn’t believe his past could be a threat. Also possible.
But then what? Damn, there were dried peas rattling around in this can somewhere and he needed to find one. Just one, to get him started in a useful direction.
But maybe he was already on that path and just hadn’t pulled out the information that would show him.
A bedroom with nothing under it but a foundation and a slab. Sounds he’d heard last night, sounds that Candy had heard, as well. Traveling through that wall as if it were wires to a phone.
He tended to discount the speaker idea, but he wasn’t ready to throw that off the table. Nothing would be discarded until he knew he was clearly on track.
Dena was in an earlier time zone, so he wasn’t especially surprised when she called him shortly after seven.
“Nothing on the street so far,” she reported. “I’ll keep feelers out, but you know these drug operations are pretty strong on secrecy. The Pentagon could learn something from them.”
He didn’t doubt it, he thought as he walked into the shower. To get anything out of these drug rings you had to plant someone on the inside. Difficult and dangerous. Then you had the problem of cops who fell into the dark side after living that life for so long. They closed up like clams.
First a talk with Todd, he decided. Then the barn. He had become fixated on it. If he could find evidence that someone was hiding in there...
Then what? How would the guy be scaring Vivian?
It was another stone to turn over. He was willing to turn stones over until his fingers were bloody. And then more.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Vivian. About that little girl who needed to be rescued from something or someone.
No way was he going to leave her in a lurch.
* * *
IT WAS TEN before he phoned Candy, hoping she’d managed to get some sleep.
“Hey,” she said.
Her voice didn’t sound as if she’d slept much. Well, neither had he, and with another night investigation coming up, they needed to manage a few Zs somehow.
“Anything?” he asked.
“We’ll see. I came up with more than a dozen Ivy Brides. Who would have thought the name would be that common. Anyway, more seem to still be popping up, so I’ll let this run a while longer before I start investigating them individually.”
He had no problem with that. “Wanna go with me soon?”
“Sure...”
Her voice trailed off. A ruckus sounded in the background and Candy cursed vigorously.
“I gotta go, Steve.”
“What’s up?”
“A repeat of the other day. Two more.”
Now it was his turn to cuss. Two more? Hadn’t Wittes said there’d be more?
But his primary reaction was feeling his stomach turn over and his mind kick into detective mode.
“Tell the sheriff my skills are available if he needs them.”
“Sure.” She disconnected.
God, he hoped she didn’t have to go to the scene. Watching the video feed had messed her up enough.
He sat a while thinking about this. Two more murders. Maybe in keeping with the old lore? Tate had quoted the stories as saying there had been four murders.
A week before Halloween. Man, he’d be surprised if any parent let their youngsters go door-to-door.
Which always disappointed kids from what he’d seen. The adventure of trick-or-treating vanished at a big party.
But now he’d have to deal with a frightened, possibly angry, town that had already focused on him, the outsider.
He swore again, torn between the two halves of himself: the cop and the TV host. No way he could do both.
And there was still a little girl who desperately needed help to return to a normal life.
But there were also two double murders, and since there’d been no major release of information on the first two, it was evident that the case hadn’t been solved.
He was left wondering for the umpteenth time how humans could do this to each other. Stupid question. If he wondered, Candy could tell him.
Because that woman had seen it with her own eyes.
* * *
CANDY TRIED TO stay in the background. Watching the video had been troubling enough, but to have to go live to the scene... Well, she wondered how she’d handle it.
Yeah, she’d seen it in the Army, but that was in the past as much as she could shove it there. This might awaken the absolute worst of her nightmares.
But... She was a cop now. She’d have to face this sooner or later.
She stiffened herself, seeking her backbone. She could do it. She might have to.
Then Gage approached. “I’m a little shorthanded this morning.”
Here it came.
“Who found them?” she asked, hoping her voice sounded steady. Or hard. She needed the hardening, and it was growing like ice within her.
“I’ve got four people out. One of them’s sick. Another three left town on vacation. Mainly because I thought we’d be quiet for a while. We were hoping it was someone with a grudge. Nobody expected this to happen again.”
“Why would anyone? Who found them?” she asked again.
“A couple of hunters. I expect they’re being sick behind some trees.”
She might do that, too.
“Candy...”
“I’ll go out there.” She heard the steel in her own voice. Combat mode was taking over.
“Thanks. If you get out there and feel it’s too much, let me know. I can manage somehow.”
But why should he? He’d given her this opportunity when no one else would. She didn’t want to fail him. Not on a case as important as this.
“I’ll be fine.” She hoped. Then she added, “You know Steve Hawks’s background. Former detective? He offered to help if you want him.”
“I may need everyone I can get my hands on. Tell him he’s on standby. This has to stop, and there’s only one way.”
* * *
CANDY DROVE OUT to the site, following her GPS. Her hands were steady on the wheel. The shakes and nausea had vanished for now. For now.
Why should Conard County be immune from the ugliness of people? Her vain hopes had been just that: vain. Now she was in the thick of it, and she knew how to manage. Later, after it was over, she might face other problems.
And she’d deal as she always had. Because she must.
Seeking refuge, she returned her thoughts to the Castelles. She hoped Steve continued his investigation for Vivian’s sake. That little girl was still alive, unlike these latest victims. She deserved a kind of priority.
But her mind wouldn’t let her off the hook for long. Instead she braced for the coming hours.
* * *
STEVE REALLY DIDN’T want to pursue the Castelle case. Not now. His internal tug-of-war was strengthening. Vivian, he reminded himself.
Somehow the Castelles had already heard about the murders. Maybe the grapevine had reached rapid-fire. Regardless of how they’d heard, they were visibly shaken.
Annabelle grabbed him as he came through the door. “You don’t think... Vivian?”
“I don’t see how these cases could be related.” But he wasn’t going to dismiss the possibility.
“Todd? I needed to talk to you privately.” Might as well get this much out of the way.
“Sure,” Todd answered. “Outside.”
It was cold as hell out there this morning, but Steve agreed. He didn’t want Annabelle or Vivian to hear any of this.
Out back, with Buddy running around like an overgrown demon, he faced Todd. “I need the truth from you, and I need it now.”
For the first time Todd looked more than uneasy. He looked frightened.
Steve continued. “I heard about your drug conviction. Cocaine. Rehab.”
Todd’s nod was jerky. “Yeah. Rehab worked.”
“Did it? Honestly? Look, I’m not a cop anymore, but I sure as hell need to know all the possibilities if I’m going to help your daughter.”
Todd’s gaze slid away. “Yeah, it worked. But maybe what worked more was Annabelle packing to leave and take Vivian with her. That’s part of the reason we moved out here, to try to rebuild our marriage. I wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive me. I’m still not convinced she has, at least not completely.”
“Okay. I wondered. But there’s something else.”
Steve looked at him again.
“Did you leave the city while you owed someone money? Even a small amount.” Because drug dealers sometimes made an example for even the smallest sums. Nobody was allowed to cheat them.
“I don’t think so. I spent the last two years paying the guy off. It wasn’t easy with the interest.”
“Did they threaten you? Vivian? Annabelle?”
Todd shook his head. “I was paying them. They never said a word about my family.”
Steve wasn’t sure about that, even if it hadn’t been explicitly stated. He sighed. Maybe this wasn’t totally cleared up after all. Steve had needed a time-payment plan. This whole deck would be a lot cleaner if he had paid up front. But the odd thing about cocaine. It was expensive to begin with and as the need grew so did the cost.
“Okay,” he said to Todd. “I won’t mention it elsewhere.”
At last Todd looked relieved. “Thanks.”
Don’t thank me too soon, he thought as he followed Todd back inside. He still had to recheck all his recording equipment in case he’d missed something.
He wondered if Candy would escape before he went to the barn. He might well need her help.
She’d become his right hand, and now he was glad his crew wasn’t here. At this point he didn’t need the confusion they’d bring.
But he might not have a show here at all.
And he didn’t care.
* * *
CANDY WALKED TOWARD the bodies, her stride purposeful. She’d forgotten her qualms and was now focused. As in battle.
Never had she dreamed she’d need that mind-set again.
The area was roped off with crime scene tape. Men in clean suits were scouring the area around it. A weapon. They needed a weapon.
Candy looked at the two teens, a boy and a girl, and seriously doubted a weapon had been used. She knew what those kinds of wounds looked like. Too well.
“Looks like the same thing,” Gage said.
She nodded. “They were drugged.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’ve seen everything any kind of weapon can do, from knives to guns to bombs. Unless you turn them over and find something, I have to conclude they were drugged before they were brought here.”
Gage nodded. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
“Were they an item?”
“I believe so. I seem to remember them dating.”
“Probably. Else why take them both? Any toxicology on the first two?”
“Not yet.
“Hell.” She stared, her feelings silenced. “What are you going to do?”
“You mean apart from the investigation? Plant posters and warnings all over town. Take your kids to the party at the high school or keep them home.”
“Good idea. I’d assume at this point, though, that the very young kids would be safe.”
“But that’s not a reliable assumption. I’ll get the teens who are staging the party to set a room aside for the little ones. Maybe soften the haunted house. I’m sure they will, under the circumstances.”
Candy nodded, using her eyes to seek more information. Then the techs arrived with their yellow numbered markers. Someone called out that he’d found a trail that looked as if the kids had been dragged.
A drag trail. That fit with Candy’s idea of drugs. But how? “I hope they’ll check stomach contents.”
Gage nodded. “That’s one thing we can do here.”
“But not the toxicology?”
“Not complete enough. There are some things the local hospital can’t look for. Not yet anyway. Not enough call for it.”
Candy understood, but she sighed anyway. Waiting on information wouldn’t prevent another set of murders. They needed to find the killer.
Just as Steve needed to find a perp so he could help Vivian.
* * *
STEVE SET ABOUT reviewing all his equipment for any signs that someone had been in this house. Or that a spook had been making noise.
Several hours later he had nothing except the faint sounds coming up the wall that both he and Candy had heard. He didn’t want to tell that to the Castelles, because it would only confirm their ideas about the paranormal.
Not yet. He needed more before he fell back on that. Much more than rhythms of speech coming through that wall.
He decided to leave all his equipment in place, then saw Ben Wittes in the driveway. Oh, for God’s sake. Like he needed that idiot right now.
But Annabelle let him in anyway. Steve met him in the hallway. “What’s up?”
“I told you there’d be more murders. My spirit guide says it’s the guy who killed his wife. Talking. Mumbling.”
Steve wanted to sigh. Nothing there. Finally he busted the guy’s bubble. “You need to tell me something that isn’t part of the legends that appear to have been created by local kids years ago. No real murders showed up in police reports back then.”
Ben closed his eyes, then snapped them open. “Maybe they didn’t find the victims. Or maybe he wasn’t strong enough to do it back then. He’s strong enough now.”
Steve heard a small sound behind him and swung around to see Vivian hiding behind her mother, her face peeping out and looking terrified.
“That does it,” he said. “Vivian doesn’t want you here. You’re fired. And if you come back, no one will let you in this house. You understand?”
Fury flickered across Ben Wittes’s face, then vanished.
“If that’s the way you want it,” he grumbled. “But you’ll be sorry if you miss more information.”
“You haven’t provided one useful thing. If you think you’ve got something better, then find me in town. Now go.”
Steve was surprised at the amount of relief he felt as Wittes disappeared down the driveway.
He turned to look at Annabelle and Vivian.
“Are you sure that was wise?” Annabelle asked.
“He offered nothing that I wasn’t able to find out from the old sheriff. Besides—” he squatted and spoke to Vivian “—you didn’t like him, did you?”
She shook her head. Then she did something that tore his heart. She put her thumb in her mouth.
“I promise he won’t come back.”
“Good,” Vivian said around her thumb. “Buddy.”
Annabelle spoke. “He’s out back, honey. Want him inside?”
Buddy came charging in, apparently glad of the warm temperature. Well, yeah. That dog had an awfully short coat. Maybe that was why he’d been running nonstop out there.
Vivian went to the kitchen table, forgetting her thumb. “Chocolate,” she said firmly.
Annabelle smiled. “I should take out stock in the instant cocoa business.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Steve said cheerfully. “I’m going to take a look at your barn, if that’s okay?”
“Go ahead,” Annabelle answered.
And where had Todd gone? Steve wondered. Had he just disappeared because Steve had raked up bad memories? Or because he hadn’t been honest with the whole story?
Hell, there was no way to know if the guy simply wouldn’t tell him.
Frustrated, Steve headed out to the barn. Waste of his time, probably, but no stone left unturned. A major rule of his life.
* * *
CANDY RETURNED HOME around seven in the evening. She’d picked up a sandwich for dinner but had no desire to eat it. Habit had made her buy it. Not even habit could make her eat right then.
It was hitting her, she realized. Damn, she had feared this, but there was no way to stop it now. She had been cast back into places she never wanted to go again, and now those memories were swimming with memories of what she had seen today.
More hideous reality. Would she never escape it?
But the wish vanished in the memories. She began to shake. Had to run to vomit. Returned to her kitchen on shaky legs and tried to make coffee but dropped the pot twice and gave up.
Then she collapsed at the table and let the sobbing begin. Tears, so many tears, some of them unshed for so long that they demanded to join the outpouring.
Maybe she was in the wrong job after all. But she recoiled from that idea. Where would she go? What would she do?
She felt trapped in past and present, unable to live with herself, unable to do anything else. She couldn’t quit. She wasn’t a quitter, and whenever suicide tried to drift through her mind, she tossed it away much more easily than memory.
Those kids. Those poor kids. But how many other kids had she seen die? Eighteen-year-olds wearing the same uniform as hers. Others, as young as ten or twelve in raggedy clothes, dead because they’d been in the wrong place.
Too many kids by far. She couldn’t fight it any longer. Memory was taking over and everything else disappeared.
She even smelled gunpowder. Heard explosions and gunfire. She was back in the ’Stan now with more kids riding her shoulders. The weight threatened to crush her.
She hardly heard a familiar voice say, “The door was open...”
Then Steve’s strong arms surrounded her tightly. Hanging on to her as if he wanted to stop her fall. But nothing could. Nothing.
One of those big hands stroked her hair but she was hardly aware of it. Lost within herself, she couldn’t find a way out.
She continued sobbing.
* * *
STEVE SWEPT HER up in his arms when he felt her soften just a bit and carried her to her bed. Then, lying beside her, he felt her soak his shirt with her tears, felt the tremors run through her. Could almost feel the memories that were swamping her.
Though he had some himself that would never leave him, he knew they were nothing like Candy’s. If ever he’d wished for a magic wand, he did now.
And he hated wars because they did this to people. All people.
* * *
A LONG TIME LATER, Candy’s tears dried, and her body stopped shaking. He was relieved when she fell asleep.
He wouldn’t leave, though. She was going to wake feeling fragile, and he refused to disturb her sleep.
Sleep was healing, and she needed every bit of it she could get.
He wished he knew if being a cop might eventually desensitize her to memories. Like immersion therapy. Afraid of spiders? Then look at dozens of photos of spiders. Then observe them for real. Maybe eventually let them crawl on you.
But it probably wouldn’t, he decided. This wasn’t like spiders or anything similar. This was a great gaping wound in her psyche. A little spackle and paint wouldn’t patch it.
A grim prospect. He had to hope that time would help her heal. But she’d been doing pretty well so far. She’d landed a job, she appeared to be functioning in it.
Then there was today. He bet she’d gone out to the murder scene this time. Because at her very core she was tough. Tough as steel.
He liked the woman he knew now. But he damn well admired her strength, especially given where she’d been.
She didn’t want to see her family for fear of the questions they would ask, worried that they’d see how much she had changed and would start poking around.
Well, that sounded like a good family, the kind he’d like. Someone just needed to suggest to them that they ought to stay away from anything she didn’t mention herself.
That thing about feeling responsible for her brother’s death really cut at him, though. She didn’t deserve to feel that way, and her brother most decidedly didn’t deserve it. Give the guy his due for choosing to enlist. Candy hadn’t held him at gunpoint.
But how could anyone convince her of that? Guilt didn’t yield to logic. Ever.
He closed his eyes, enjoying having her tucked up against him. He wondered if she’d ever open up to him, a prerequisite for any deep relationship, even friendship.
That was a decision she had to make for herself, however. She had to come to trust him enough, and he couldn’t see any way to make that happen.
Sleep crept up on him at last, carrying him away into a world of confusing dreams that were half born of the Castelle situation, half born of his concerns for Candy, and the rest, around the edges, about four hideous murders.
Even sleep didn’t offer him real escape.
* * *
STEVE AWOKE WHILE it was still dark outside, not that it meant much at this time of year, not in these parts anyway.
Candy had slipped away. He could smell soaps and shampoos and feel humidity: a shower. That sounded good to him, too, but pointless. He didn’t have a change of clothing.
More important, he wanted to see Candy, to see if she was doing better now.
The aroma of coffee pulled him down the hallway to the kitchen. The pot, still mostly full, issued an invitation. After he filled a mug, he went looking and found Candy seated in the living room, her feet up on a sofa, staring into space.
Keeping quiet, he sat in a chair across from her. She’d speak when she was ready. Or not.
She looked like hell, though. The dark circles under her eyes announced the rough night she’d had.
She spoke at last. “You must need to get to work.”
Was that a suggestion that he should leave? If so, he was in no mood to listen. Not when she looked like that. The Castelles could damn well wait a few hours.
He decided to speak, choosing to focus on his work. It seemed like the only safe topic right now.
“I fired the psychic yesterday.”
Her gaze found him. “Really? I thought you couldn’t.”
“I have some pull,” he answered. “It’s my show, after all. They give me too much trouble, I walk. Believe me, I know how to walk away.”
She nodded wearily. “I guess you do.”
Except from her. Stubbornly, he stayed where he was. “You got any time today?”
“All day. Gage told me not to come in. But he didn’t tell me not to do my liaising with you.”
“So you work anyway.” Better for her than thinking about dead kids. Gage was right about that. The man must be pretty good at judging the emotional state of his deputies.
“Yeah,” she answered listlessly. “Why’d you fire Wittes?”
“Because he sounds like a rerun of the lore Tate told us about. Nothing new, just a story that may or may not unjustly accuse a man no one even remembers now. Pretty rotten eulogy, if you ask me.”
“I agree.”
“But he wasn’t the only reason. He scared Vivian.”
She appeared to be fully reentering the present. “I’m not surprised, Steve. He’d scare any little kid, and some adults.”
“No kidding.” He sipped his cooling coffee, ignoring the loss of heat. Hers must have reached room temperature by now, but even though he could have refilled their mugs, he decided not to. All that seemed to be pulling her back from the precipice was focusing on something safe...like his ghost hunt.
Ha. Safe? This whole thing was beginning to appear less safe by the hour. His cop senses had gone on full alert.
“I’m not sure those murders aren’t related to the Castelle situation.” Damn! Bad timing to bring up the killings. Where was his head at? The wrong place. He’d evidently lost some caution in the years since he’d quit his department.
But she didn’t withdraw, didn’t pull into herself. Her gaze had become clearer. The night’s storm seemed to have passed for now.
“You’re giving me chills,” she remarked. “I need more coffee. Hot this time.”
“I could run out and get us lattes, if you want.” Much as he didn’t want to leave her, he’d have crawled over glass to do just one thing to make her feel that someone cared. To make her feel even a tiny bit better.
It shook him a little to realize he’d seldom cared that much for another person. Willing to give the shirt off his back, but to crawl on glass? Oh, he had it bad.
She smiled slightly. “I’d like that, if you don’t mind.”
He rose. “I don’t mind at all. What about breakfast? I’m sure Maude will dish up something good. Anything in particular?”
“Her home fries. I seem to be craving carbs.”
“I’m not surprised.” Not at all. That kind of stress, or even shock, required something to pump the blood sugar up.
He pulled on his jacket, not caring how scruffy he probably looked by now. Showering and changing could wait for a better time. He figured he must be breaking the town’s speed limit on his way to the diner.
But it was still early, and there were few cars on the road. Maude’s seemed to have just opened, and only a handful people sat scattered among the tables.
“I heard,” Maude said to him across the counter.
“Yeah. Candy’s...well.”
Maude nodded. “Ex-soldier, now this. Not what she expected from this job. Load her up?”
“She specifically mentioned your home fries.”
Maude frowned, which he was learning to recognize as her smile. “And more,” she said decisively. “You, too?”
“Filling the tanks,” he agreed.
He left with four foam containers instead of the two he’d expected, and four extralarge lattes. Maude signaled one of the breakfast customers. “Help Steve here out to his car. Don’t want them lattes spilling. They’re for Candy.”
Making it even more clear this was caretaking. The guy she had called over smiled faintly. “You betcha. Gotta take care of that girl.”
“Girl?” Maude snorted. “She’s done more in her life than you’d ever want to see, Bill. She ain’t no girl.”
Steve wanted to applaud, but Maude didn’t seem like the right woman to applaud. Bill helped him get everything safely stashed in his rental, an achievement with all that coffee. Then Steve was driving back, this time at a sane pace.
It took him three trips, but he put all the bounty on the kitchen table. Candy emerged from the living room and looked at everything. “Did you rob her?”
“Maude made up the order. Was I going to argue? I bet one of her glares could turn me to ash.”
That drew an almost natural smile from Candy. She reached first for a coffee and swallowed half of it before at last taking a seat.
Steve, meanwhile, opened the containers, revealing enough fried potatoes to feed a small army, followed by a load of scrambled eggs with a stack of bacon, then generous slices of pineapple with a side of cherries. And finally a container filled with some kind of coffee cake.
“Fit for a king,” he remarked as he gathered up utensils and plates. “Dig in.”
She finished the first latte, so he pushed a second toward her.
“Want a shot of whiskey in that?”
Her gaze rose to his face. “Do you have any?” She sounded surprised.
“Hell no, but I always thought it would be cool to carry a flask.”
Another smile, a small sound that might have been an attempt to laugh. She was taking her first steps toward relaxing. He was delighted to see her reaching for potatoes, fruit and bacon. The eggs didn’t seem to interest her, but he could take care of that himself.
She spoke when she’d made a remarkable dent on breakfast. “You have plans for today?”
“Absolutely. Join me, please. I’ve got more tapes and recordings to run through, and I’m thinking about a second walk-through with my infrared camera. Then there’s the barn. I did a quick scan yesterday, but a second pair of eyes would be helpful, if you’re willing.”
She nodded, eating another slice of pineapple before taking a piece of coffee cake. “That barn keeps drawing your attention. Are you sure you’re not obsessed?”
“Who, me? No, it’s just that it seems like a good hiding place. I need to explore it for signs someone might have been hanging around in there.”
“Reasonable.” She put her fork down. “I’ve overdone it. I don’t think I’ll want to eat for a week.”
That made him laugh. “You want me to bet on that?”
She looked almost sheepish. “I had a lot of training in eat when you can because you don’t know when you’ll get another chance.”
“I believe it. It’s good to see you filling up, though. And I’m catching up.”
“Do you work out a lot to keep that figure?”
Well, that was the most personal thing she’d ever said to him. He liked it. “Some. I don’t overdo it, though. Doing it for health is one reason. Doing it for show is another.”
He cleaned up when they were done, not a difficult task. A few items in the dishwasher, a few leftovers in the fridge.
“Ready to go?” he asked.