Silent Killer Part 24

Cathy looked up at his back, a sick feeling hitting her in the pit of her stomach. How many times during those two weeks they had shared had he told her how much he loved her?

Only a few times-when they had been having s.e.x.

Maybe that's all it had been for him. Just s.e.x.

She stood, walked over to him and laid her hand on his back. "Are you saying that you didn't love me?"

He turned so quickly that if he hadn't reached out and grabbed her, he would have knocked her down. His hands tightened on her arms.

"I'm not sure I've ever known what love is, not the kind of love you're talking about. But if you're asking did I want you, did I need you, did I think about you all the time, did I want to make you happy, then the answer is yes. If that's love, then I think you're probably the only woman I've ever loved."

Of all the things he could have said to her to dissolve her resistance, he had chosen the one argument that no woman could resist. And before she had a chance to a.s.similate the information and separate her thoughts from her feelings, Jack cradled her face with his big hands and then leaned down and kissed her. Gentle at first, the kiss soon became a ravenous mating of mouths and tongues.

Breathless and shaken when Jack ended the kiss, Cathy shoved against his chest. "Oh G.o.d, Jack. G.o.d..." Tears misted her eyes.

Slowly, reluctantly, he eased his hands away from her face. "I guess it's obvious that I still want you."

She nodded.

"If you'd let me, I'd take you to bed right now. But I'm in no position to make you any promises, and unless I miss my guess, you're still the kind of girl who's got love and s.e.x all tied up together."

"I-I want you," she told him. "That's the honest truth. But my life is far too complicated already to have to deal with an affair with you or anyone else."

"Not even Donnie Hovater, whom I'm sure your mother and your in-laws approve of?" Jack cursed under his breath. "Forget I said that, will you? If you want the honest truth, then I'll admit that I'm jealous of the guy."

"I'm flattered that you're jealous of Donnie, but you have no reason to be. As I told you, he's a new friend and that's all. And you and I are friends, and that's all I can handle right now. So if you want to date someone else, I'll understand. I won't like it, but I'll understand."

"Yeah, sure." He nodded toward the front door. "I guess I'd better go and let you get some sleep."

She walked to the door with him and then out onto the porch, not caring what her neighbors thought if they saw her standing there in her robe.

"I should have some preliminary plans for your house ready by the end of the week," she said. "How about lunch on Friday?"

"Sure thing. Call me with the time and place."

"I will."

"Good night, Cathy."

"Good night."

She stood on the porch and watched as he drove away. Her body ached for him. It would have been so simple to have taken him to her bed and made love with him all night.

Simple? Was she crazy? Nothing in her life was simple these days, least of all her relationship, past and present, with Jackson Perdue.

Chapter Eighteen

While working with the Fire and Brimstone Killer task force, comprised of local, regional and state law-enforcement officials, Jack had come to respect Derek Lawrence. Heck, he was beginning to like the guy, something Maleah wouldn't want to hear. Yeah, sure, the man could rub you the wrong way with his c.o.c.kiness, but once you got past that character flaw, you had to admire his brilliant mind, his great sense of humor and his keen insight into human nature. It wasn't that he and Derek had become good friends. A relationship like that was built over time and required a foundation of trust that had to be earned. But they had reached the drinking-buddies stage, and each night this past week, they had grabbed a quick bite and a few beers together before heading their separate ways. Last night, Mike had joined them and they had talked business before their minds wandered off in a different direction after a couple of rounds. The subject had changed from how to catch a serial killer to the bra size of the bosomy waitress and bets on whether or not she had implants.

This morning, Jack needed caffeine. He poured himself another cup of the office sludge that vaguely resembled coffee and tasted more like thin tar. Having had way too much on his mind at bedtime, he hadn't drifted off to sleep until after two this morning, and then he hadn't slept worth a d.a.m.n. A war-related nightmare that he preferred not to think about in the hard, cold light of day had interrupted his four hours of on-and-off sleep. And right now, he was feeling the aftereffects. He placed his mug on the desk, pulled out his chair and sat. After taking a couple of sips of the strong, hot brew, he put the mug aside and stared at the stack of file folders beside his computer.

The task force was no closer to finding their killer than when the investigation first started. Without any witnesses and with no definitive evidence linking the three murders to a specific person, they were pretty much spinning their wheels. Out there somewhere, possibly living in Dunmore, was a murderer who, according to Derek, probably seemed relatively normal. He or she could be anyone's next-door neighbor, a regular guy or gal, someone who, on a day-today basis, looked and acted like everyone else. But a monster existed inside this killer.

"You've got to be a really sick b.a.s.t.a.r.d to be able to set another human being on fire," Lieutenant Wayne Morgan, the ABI agent who headed the Fire and Brimstone task force, had said during their most recent meeting. His statement had been a consensus of the others on the task force.

So, how did you recognize a monster if he or she didn't have horns and a tail? If this person spit fire, had glowing red eyes or their head twirled around and around, it would make law enforcement's job a lot easier.

If their killer stayed true to form, he or she wouldn't kill again for a good while. Mark Cantrell had been killed more than eighteen months ago, and then, six months later, Charles Randolph had met his maker. Father Brian Myers had become the third victim, murdered almost a year after the second clergyman's death. Would the killer wait six months or even a year before striking again? Derek seemed to think that it would be a lot sooner.

"Call it gut instinct," Derek had told them, "but I believe there will be another similar murder sometime in the next few months."

"There was six months between the first two murders, then nearly a whole year before the killer struck again," Huntsville police detective Jeremy Vaughn had said at yesterday's meeting. "What makes you think he's going to strike again so soon?"

"Other than going by my instincts, you mean? Nothing, really. Just an educated guess. There's a fury inside our killer that is bound to intensify as time goes by. All that's needed is the right incentive, and he or she could go into a killing frenzy."

A killing frenzy!

Jack knew all about killing. When he'd been in the Rangers, he had not only witnessed horrific murders more times than he could count, but he, too, had killed-numerous times. It was all a part of being a soldier, part of being at war. It was kill or be killed. And although he was no longer a soldier, no longer living in a war zone, he was now a member of a select group of men and women who fought crime on a daily basis.

The one thing everyone on the task force agreed about was the fact that another murder was imminent. Jack couldn't help wondering how Cathy would react when another clergyman was killed.

d.a.m.n! He didn't want to think about her so much, but she'd been on his mind all week. Although he hadn't seen her since Sunday night, she had phoned yesterday to tell him she had finished the preliminary plans for renovating his house. The call had been brief and to the point. They were meeting for lunch today, a strictly business lunch. Yeah, sure. He didn't for one minute believe that anything could ever be strictly business between Cathy and him.

My life is far too complicated already to have to deal with an affair with you or anyone else. He had replayed her words over and over inside his head for the past five days and knew he had to accept the fact that she meant what she'd said. But G.o.d in heaven, the way she had responded to his kiss told him that her body was more than ready to take a lover. And he wanted to be that lover. He had replayed her words over and over inside his head for the past five days and knew he had to accept the fact that she meant what she'd said. But G.o.d in heaven, the way she had responded to his kiss told him that her body was more than ready to take a lover. And he wanted to be that lover.

You and I are friends, and that's all I can handle right now. So if you want to date someone else, I'll understand. I won't like it, but I'll understand.

He had gotten along just fine without Cathy in his life for the past seventeen years. He might want her, but he didn't need her. He just needed a woman. Any woman would do.

Okay, if that's the way you really feel, why aren't you dating someone else? he asked himself. he asked himself. Why haven't you gone out and gotten yourself laid? Why haven't you gone out and gotten yourself laid?

d.a.m.ned if I know.

Cathy told herself that she had bought a new dress because she needed to gradually replace old clothes with new. But if she were completely honest with herself, which she tried to be these days, she'd have to admit that her lunch date with Jack had influenced her decision to purchase a new outfit.

After she emerged from her car, she adjusted the navy bolero jacket she wore over her red and white striped sundress. The navy purse and shoes were stock items that had been a part of her wardrobe for several years, as were the small gold hoop earrings. But the five inexpensive little red, white and blue bangle bracelets were a recent purchase. She could tell herself that she simply wanted to look nice for a client, but that would be a half-truth. Of course, she always wanted to look her best, but she had gone to extra trouble and expense to impress Jack.

Sighing heavily because she knew that she was sending him mixed signals, Cathy squared her shoulders and walked toward the restaurant entrance. If she was smart, she would sever her ties to Jack. After today, she should turn the house-renovation project over to Lorie and tell Jack that they couldn't date. She'd been a fool to think she could keep him at arm's length, not when she still had feelings for him. What if they fell in love again? How would that affect Seth?

With her portfolio containing all the renovation plans she had worked on every night this week tucked under her arm, Cathy entered the restaurant. The Cedar Hill Grill, which had opened only a couple of years ago, was the nicest place in town and was locally owned and managed by Patsy and Elliott Floyd's twenty-five-year-old son, Drew.

An attractive young hostess with a pleasant smile met Cathy. "Table for one?"

"No, I'm meeting someone. Mr. Perdue. I'm probably a little early."

"Not at all. Mr. Perdue is already here." The hostess, whose name tag read Krista, led Cathy straight to a secluded back booth, where Jack sat with a gla.s.s of iced tea in his hand.

The moment he saw her, he set the gla.s.s down, slid out of the booth and stood to greet her. Wow! He looked great, all six-two of him, with his sun-streaked hair and piercing blue eyes. Having a tall, muscular build, he was the type of man who looked good in a uniform, even the standard sheriff's department brown slacks and shirt.

He smiled. She smiled.

She could tell that he wasn't sure whether to shake her hand or give her a quick hug. She made the decision for him. After propping her portfolio up against the back of the booth, she gave Jack a brief, friendly hug. Perhaps it hadn't been a smart move, not if she intended to end their new relationship before it went any further, but hugging him seemed the natural thing to do.

After she slid into the booth and picked up the menu lying on the table between them, Jack sat down across from her.

"Lunch first or business?" he asked.

"Lunch, please. I'm starving. I skipped breakfast this morning." She kept her gaze fixed on the menu. "Yum, everything looks good."

"I've narrowed my choices down to either a cheeseburger and fries or a rack of ribs."

"I love ribs, but they're awfully messy." The last thing she wanted was to accidentally drop barbeque sauce on her new dress.

Their waitress came over to the booth and asked Cathy, "What would you like to drink?"

"Sweet iced tea with lemon, please."

"Yes, ma'am. Are y'all ready to order?"

Jack looked at Cathy, who replied, "Yes, I am. I'd like the half sandwich and cup of soup-club sandwich and vegetable soup."

The waitress turned to Jack.

"A rack of ribs," he said. "With fries. And more tea."

"Be right back with your drinks."

Alone again, Cathy and Jack looked at each other. She realized he was as nervous as she was. One of them had to say something about what had happened this past Sunday night. The kiss they'd shared had dominated her thoughts all week. As much as she wanted Jack, more now than she had as a teenager, she couldn't risk making a mistake by falling in love with him all over again. It had taken her such a long time to stop loving him, to put him in the past where he belonged and move on with her life. Thank G.o.d when she and Mark had married, he'd still been in love with his first wife, so he had understood her feelings for Jack. In the early days of their marriage, they had talked to each other about their lost loves, but all that changed after Seth was born. Oddly enough, Seth had been the glue that cemented their marriage and continued to be the glue that held them together until the day Mark died.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jack said.

Slightly startled, Cathy snapped out of memory land and came back to the present moment. She smiled. "I was thinking about Seth." It was a half-truth.

"How's he doing?"

"I haven't seen him since Sunday, but we've talked on the phone every day. J.B. has kept Seth grounded, and I don't entirely disagree with him doing that."

"Do you still plan to put off taking your in-laws to court?"

"Yes. I prefer to settle the custody matter out of court, if at all possible. For Seth's sake."

"Do you really think your father-in-law will eventually hand Seth over to you without putting up a fight?"

Cathy sighed. "I hope so. Donnie believes that, given time, J.B. will see reason."

"And you think Donnie Hovater has all the answers, that he knows J.B. Cantrell better than you do, even though he's known him for less than a year and you've known the old goat for what-more than sixteen years?"

Cathy laughed. "Old goat, huh?"

"I could have been really blunt," Jack said. "I'm sure I could have come up with more explicit words to describe your father-in-law."

"Actually, old goat is fine." She glanced down at the table, avoiding Jack's steady gaze. "J.B. isn't a bad man. He's not cruel or evil, not the way-" Cathy stopped midsentence, realizing what she'd been about to say.

"Not like Nolan Reaves." Jack finished the sentence for her. "J.B. didn't physically abuse his wife and kids. He didn't make life a living h.e.l.l for people he professed to love. That makes J.B. a better man than my stepfather, but it doesn't make him a good man. I get the feeling that your husband's father has committed his share of mental and emotional abuse, at least to some degree."

"Maybe." Cathy hated to admit the truth. "Yes, okay. J.B. isn't a saint. And he's almost as good at emotional manipulation as my mother is. But it's not as if he consciously intends to harm anyone."

Jack lifted his brows in a manner that expressed his doubts. "I realize how you live your life is none of my business, and I have no right to tell you what to do or influence what decisions you should make about your son. But you have to know that your father-in-law has spent the past year manipulating Seth. Don't you want to put a stop to that as soon as possible?"

"Like you said, my life and my son are none of your business," Cathy snapped.

"Is your life any of Donnie Hovater's business?"

Cathy's gaze met Jack's head-on just as the waitress returned with their drinks. As soon as she placed their gla.s.ses on the table and left, Cathy took a deep, calming breath before responding to Jack's question.

"I didn't meet you for lunch today to discuss Seth or J.B. or Donnie," she reminded him. "I'm here as your design consultant." She patted the large portfolio propped beside her against the back of the booth. "And your amateur architect."

"And as a friend?" he asked.

"Yes, of course."

"If I promise to keep my nose out of your personal business, will you go to dinner and the movies with me tonight? We could drive over to Huntsville and-"

"I already have plans."

"Do you really have other plans, or is that your way of telling me to back off?"

"If we can have dinner and go to the movies as friends only, I'll be free next weekend," she told him. "Tonight, I do have plans with my son. He and I are going for dinner and then bowling with Donnie and Missy. And J.B. has agreed to let Seth spend tonight and tomorrow night with me."

"That's great, honey."

"No comment about my spending time with Donnie?"

"Your life, your business."

She smiled.