Текст книги "If Looks Could Kill"

Автор книги: Heather Graham

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

16

Madison awoke with a pounding headache, afraid to lift her eyelids. Her mouth was dry, her throat was aching, and she couldn’t even croak to find out if anyone would listen if she begged for water.

She finally opened her eyes. The room was still spinning. As long as she lived, she didn’t want to taste another rum swizzler. She tried to sit up. The spinning sensation was worse.

She crashed back down, groaning.

“You are going to live.”

Kyle was there. If she’d had a prayer of actually managing the feat, she would have hit him. “No thanks to you,” she groaned.

Then, despite her spinning head and the agony she suffered, she rose to a sitting position, staring first at her hand, then at Kyle.

There was a narrow, plain gold band on her finger.

Kyle was seated at a table in a little breakfast nook that overlooked the palm-covered lawn sloping down to the beach. He had a newspaper and coffee, was showered and shaved, and had even been shopping. He was wearing a surf-logo T-shirt and cutoffs and new Teva sandals. He looked comfortable and relaxed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in what felt like a shout. The sound of her own voice crashed mercilessly against her skull. She was going to have to whisper.

“Reading about yesterday’s events,” Kyle said. She realized then that he wasn’t exactly happy. Something in the paper was disturbing him.

She wasn’t worried about the paper at the moment, though. Her own situation was taking precedence. “You tricked me. You got me drunk on purpose. Tell me that everything that happened last night was some kind of sham.”

“No. No, it wasn’t.”

“I’m an American citizen.”

“And you think our marriage is illegal because it took place in a different country?”

“I don’t know exactly what is and isn’t legal, but I can find out. I have a brother-in-law who is an attorney.”

“So?” he inquired politely.

“Kyle, what did you think you were doing? You can’t protect me every minute, all of my life!”

He poured her a mug of black coffee and brought it to her—along with two aspirin.

She looked from the pills he had dropped in her hand to his eyes. “You even planned it down to the aspirin,” she said resentfully.

“Madison,” he said, sitting by her side, “you weren’t unconscious—you did know what was going on. And the point here is that you’re going to put yourself and Carrie Anne at risk if you don’t let me protect you.”

“But marriage? Kyle…”

“It is legal. But you can always change that,” he told her quietly.

She sipped the coffee he had brought her, feeling strangely defeated. She stared into her cup. “I’ve been compared to Lainie all my life,” she said softly. “I loved her, but I never wanted to be like her.”

“Madison, you’re not—”

“She was married four times. I think Dad’s been married six times. Of course, he’s been living longer.”

“Madison, I’m sorry.”

“About marrying me?”

“That you’re so upset.”

She drank the rest of the coffee and headed into the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“I’ll order you some food.”

“No!” she cried.

“It will help. Trust me.”

“Trust you? Trust you? You must be insane.”

“I’ll order some toast. It will help.”

She showered, then came back out in one of the hotel’s big bathrobes. By the time she emerged, room service had come, and the toast did smell appetizing. There was also orange juice and more coffee. To her amazement, she discovered that she could eat, and afterward, she did feel better.

Kyle glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep for a couple of hours? Then we can go on the afternoon dolphin swim before we head back home.”

“We’re really going swimming with dolphins?”

“Yeah, we’re really going swimming with dolphins,” he said, rising.

“Where are you going?” she asked him.

“Just for a walk. Try to get some more sleep. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

He left her, and she wondered where he was really going. But where the hell could he be going on a small private island where the traitorous natives spoke French?

She lifted her left hand—it only shook slightly. She stared incredulously at the ring on it. If someone had asked her when she was young what she wanted more than anything else in the world, she would have said—if she’d allowed herself to be honest—that she wanted to grow up to marry Kyle. And now it had happened. He had tricked her, but she had let him.

She closed her eyes. To her amazement, she began to drift. And she didn’t dream.

She woke up to Kyle prodding her gently. “Hey, we have to be down at the pool in thirty minutes. You going to make it?”

She stared at him and nodded. She felt a lot better. “Yes, I’m going to make it.” She bounded out of bed and into the bathroom, where she dressed quickly in her airport-purchase bathing suit.

Kyle was waiting for her on the bungalow porch, and as they walked down the lawn toward the shore, he pointed out the inlet where the pool was located. “Gene’s lagoon is natural, but he’s fenced off an area. He thinks that some of the people who get so nuts about releasing dolphins and killer whales are crazy—they can’t make it in the wild any better than a French poodle. He’s raised all his ladies, as he calls them, and they’re affectionate, and accustomed to being fed. There’s Judy, the trainer we’ll be working with.”

“Where are the rest of the people?”

“This is a private dive. Just us.”

She arched a brow at him and realized that part of the reason he had left her that morning was probably to arrange for this private session. For a tough FBI guy not above pulling a few fast moves, he could be amazingly considerate.

“Mrs. Montgomery!” Judy called to her. The name was startling. She felt that she was playacting when she responded to it, but Judy just went on. “Welcome. I understand this is a long-time dream of yours. Come on over, meet the girls.”

Judy was about thirty, an attractive, slender woman with a master’s degree in marine biology from the University of Miami. She obviously adored the four dolphins in the pool—Heidi, Rachel, Debbi and Hannah. She introduced them one by one to Kyle and Madison, and warned them again that dolphins could be aggressive, even though the “girls” were naturally very affectionate. Madison and Kyle fed the dolphins fish, then led them in a few leaps and twirls under Judy’s supervision before donning snorkels, masks and fins to jump in with them.

Madison had the time of her life.

The dolphins were wonderful. She quickly discovered that they were very strong and could shove roughly while playing, but they were also as affectionate as Judy had said. They loved to be rubbed and touched, brushing against her and Kyle. She glanced at Kyle as they surfaced together, laughing delightedly, and she saw in his eyes that he was every bit as fascinated as she was, and having just as good a time. For a moment, as she stared at him, she was able to forget the rest of the world. She had loved him almost all her life, and now they were together, sharing an experience she had dreamed of for what felt like forever. If only…

Heidi nudged her, trying to get her attention. Madison stroked the animal, marveling at her sleek feel, and ducked again to swim with her. It was incredible.

Madison was aware that they spent much more than their allotted time in the water, and she was grateful. Her skin was completely pruned when Judy swam over to Kyle and warned him, “I’m afraid you’re going to miss your flight if you don’t get moving. And you said it was important that you get back tonight,” she added apologetically.

“Yeah, thanks,” Kyle told her. He gestured to Madison, and she nodded. She patted each of the dolphins goodbye, then emerged from the lagoon, stripping off her fins.

Judy was at her side. “You know, Mrs. Montgomery, you can come back to the island when you have more time.”

“That would be lovely,” Madison assured her. She glanced at Kyle. “I’ll have to brush up on my French first, though.”

As she and Kyle walked back toward their bungalow, he asked, “Would that have changed anything?”

“What?”

“If you’d understood French? I mean, there was a church, a priest….”

“I thought maybe it was a game, a charade….”

“I made the whole thing easy for you, then.”

“How?”

“Whatever happens, it’s my fault.”

“I…I don’t want to think about that. But I do want to thank you for this afternoon,” she told him.

“Oh. Then I shouldn’t be jumping on you.”

“It was thoughtful.”

“So you forgive me?”

She shook her head. “You know I can’t drink.”

“I was counting on it. Anyway, we’ve got to hurry. We do have to get back. There’s only one plane,” he reminded her.

She walked ahead of him, straight into the shower.

She thought he might follow her.

He didn’t, and she chided herself for her sense of disappointment. They did need to catch a plane, after all. Still, he was curt when she emerged, showering and changing very quickly himself, then pensive on the plane.

This time, she pretended to read a magazine while he stared restlessly out the window, but she couldn’t keep herself from wondering what was going on, what had happened to change his mood.

It was late when they headed to the airport lot and got the Jeep. Kyle drove.

“I take it Carrie Anne is spending another night at my sister’s?” Madison asked dryly.

He nodded. “I told Dan that one of us would get her after kindergarten tomorrow.”

“Did you tell him we were married?”

Kyle nodded. “But I asked him not to say anything to Carrie Anne.”

“What about Darryl?”

“He knows.”

“How about my father? And yours?”

Kyle nodded, then glanced her way. “I made a lot of phone calls while you were sleeping.”

“Did you happen to talk with anyone in the Storm Fronts? We’re supposed to go into the studio Thursday and Friday.”

She wondered why she wasn’t surprised when he nodded. “Your dad told me, and he gave me some phone numbers. I got hold of Joey. There’s no reason why you can’t keep your date with them.”

“Great,” she murmured. “I’ll just leave everything in your capable hands.”

He didn’t answer, choosing to ignore her sarcasm.

By the time they pulled into her drive, she was tired. She opened the door and keyed the alarm, choosing to ignore Kyle. It was nearly midnight. She should have been starving, but she wasn’t. She could have fixed something for Kyle, but she wasn’t in the mood. Let him fend for himself.

She went into her bedroom, showered quickly and donned a nightgown. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen. She went to bed, wondering if she should talk to him; but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t turn on the television; instead, she pretended to sleep.

But he didn’t come into her room, and in time, the pretense became real.

Killer watched her.

Enraged.

There she was, smiling at another man. Laughing. She had leaned on him, needed him, made him want her, love her, but she’d only been teasing.

Like the other one. The one who had claimed to care about him, yet meant to tell the truth about him. So that he would be an outcast. Thrown out. Taken away. The other one. Lainie. With her red hair and brilliant smile, all that beauty hiding a heart of ice. A rose, God, she had the beauty of a rose! But her thorns were vicious. Deadly. She could stab beneath the skin, cut to the heart, draw blood….

And now…

This one.

They could have made it. She could have eased all the pain and fury in his heart. He would have taken good care of her kids. Kids liked him. They always had. She could have loved him, but she was just a redheaded bitch in heat like the other one. She’d chosen not to love him. Maybe he would give her one more chance. Force her to see him, to be with him, to realize all that he had to give. Maybe…

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides and turned away.

He walked to his car and started to drive. Aimlessly.

He found himself on Seventy-ninth Street. Harlot Hangout, as he liked to call it. He saw one girl in particular. The bitch had dyed her hair a funky pinkish-red. It wasn’t the red hair he liked, but it didn’t matter. Not tonight.

He picked her up, paid her.

In a cheap downtown motel room, which he made her pay for so that he wouldn’t be seen, he beat her up.

And slit her throat.

It turned out that the funky hair was a wig. He started to laugh. He’d made a mistake.

No. She’d made a mistake.

He decided just to leave her. He didn’t allow himself to leave his signature on her body or anywhere near her. Let the cops think that this one had gotten it from a greedy pimp.

Killer drove away, laughing.

A wig. A damned wig. Her mistake.

The dream seemed to sneak up on Madison. First there was mist, then the mist began to settle, and she heard talking. Arguing.

She thought at first that she was a little girl again, back in Roger Montgomery’s big house in the Grove, where her mother had died. It sounded like Lainie’s voice, arguing. Then she realized that this voice was very different. Husky. She could also hear a male voice. Deep. Throaty. She knew it.

She didn’t know it.

“Love me. Do it, just love me. You promised, you bitch. You smiled, you said that—”

“No, no, I didn’t—”

“You will. Now stand still. You stand still, and you whisper that you love me, and you make love to me. Now. You don’t want to upset the children, do you?”

There was silence. A long silence. Then a moan of anguish. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt the children. Please…”

“I just want you to love me!”

Madison awoke with a start. Once again, she was shaking. Once again, the dream meant nothing. She was drenched in sweat, and she was tired, so sick and tired of dreaming. She burst into tears.

“Madison?”

She opened her eyes. Kyle was coming into the room, in his robe.

“Yeah?”

He sat on the edge of her bed. “You’re not crying because I didn’t demand sex, are you?” he teased gently.

She couldn’t help laughing. “No.”

“Then…”

“Oh, Kyle!” she said, and slipped her arms around him. “I’m so tired of the dreams! I don’t know what they mean, I don’t know how to help. I feel like someone close to me is in serious danger, but I don’t know who, and I don’t know what to do, how to help anyone….”

“It will end, Madison. It will all end. We will get this guy,” Kyle promised her. He held her, rocking with her. Then he eased her back to her pillows. “Want me to stay?” he asked huskily. Her arms were still around him; his eyes were locked with hers. “I will demand sex,” he admitted.

“Well, you know, sometimes you’ve just got to pay the price,” Madison murmured.

“Sometimes you do.”

He took hold of her hand and kissed her palm, then drew it against his chest, where the robe gaped open. He drew her hand downward, closing her fingers over the growing length of his erection. “I think we were just about here the other night,” he murmured, smiling. Then he rose, rising, sloughing off the robe and reaching for her and drawing her upright so he could strip away her cotton nightgown. His eyes on hers, he lifted her, caught her knees, parting them, as he settled her on the bed. Still watching her, he rubbed his engorged member intimately against her. She was amazed by the instant rise of mercurial excitement within her. Heat flooded her body, even before he forcefully pressed hard, all the way into her, deeper, deeper, deeper, his eyes on hers all the while.

When she thought she was about to die from the agonizing ecstasy of his hard, penetrating thrusts, he withdrew. He kissed her lips. He kissed her everywhere. Except where she burned.

Then he kissed her there, and she shrieked, called his name, and went wild, but he didn’t come back to her until she was shaking with raw sensation. Then he reentered her, moving with hard, electric force, and when he ejaculated, she found herself crying out with the violent force of her own climax. She lay beside him for a very long time, overwhelmed by the way he could make her feel. Then she realized that he was leaning on one elbow, watching her in the shadows of the night.

“What went wrong with you and Darryl. What—what did he do wrong?” he asked quietly.

She bit her lip for a moment. “Nothing. He didn’t do anything wrong. He just wasn’t you,” she told him.

He cradled her against him, and she fell asleep. And when he was with her, the nightmares stayed at bay.

When Madison awoke in the morning, he was gone. Peggy, however, was moving about the house, singing, “Danny Boy.”

Madison stayed in bed, feeling the sheets where he had been sleeping, luxuriating in the subtle musky scent of lovemaking that remained.

She got up at last, showered and walked out in a terry robe.

Peggy smiled broadly at her. “God be praised!” she said, looking heavenward. Then she opened her arms and hugged Madison. “So, you’ve married the boy! A fine lad, I say. It’s so wonderful. A real joining of the families, eh, love? All your assorted siblings will be in-laws now, eh?”

“Umm, I guess,” Madison murmured.

“But what matters is you. And I’ve been given strict instructions not to leave this house today.”

“Oh?”

“You’re not to be left alone in it.”

“Really? In my own house?”

“It never hurts for others to know there’s an eagle eye about,” Peggy said solemnly. “Your new husband says that he’ll be back before dinnertime, so you and I can go pick up Carrie Anne together, and then you should do what you think is right about her—you go ahead and tell her that you’re married if you want, or you can wait, and the two of you can tell her together. To tell you the truth, she likes him very much. I think she’ll be very happy—like me. I’m delighted! Everything will be fine now!”

“Will it?” Madison murmured dryly.

“And your father is on his way, love.”

“What? Dad is coming here?”

“He called just a few minutes ago. He’s heading home to Key West, but he wanted to see you before he left. I said as how you were still sleeping, but he’s on his way. I can keep breakfast warm for you both, if you want to get dressed.”

“I’ll do that. Tell Dad I’ll be right out when he comes, will you?”

“That I will.”

Madison nodded and returned to her room to dress, wondering just what her father was going to say about her sudden marriage.

Kyle sat in an unmarked police car on the side of a road in Key Largo, going over the list of restaurants he’d just been given. Jake Ramone, the young rookie officer at his side, cleared his throat. “Sorry there are so many.”

“Yeah, well…who would have thought this many restaurants would have had a shrimp étouffée special on the same weekend, hmm?” Kyle murmured.

“Must have had a good catch of shrimp that day.”

“Yeah, and a bumper crop of brown sauce. It looks like this Rusty Rumhouse is next. Let’s try her.”

“Yes, sir. I’m right with you, sir.”

The rookie revved the car into gear, and they moved forward.

God, it was a tedious morning! Despite the fact that a young desk sergeant had “let her fingers do the walking” to find out which restaurants in the Keys offered the menu Holly Tyler had last eaten, they’d come up with a longer list than anyone had imagined. He’d already been in ten restaurants, asking questions, showing Holly Tyler’s picture.

He didn’t have to do this. He could have sent out a half-dozen rookies to do the job. But he’d done everything else he could think of, and he was itching for action.

He’d even gone over to Kaila’s tennis club and interviewed the waiter who had brought her the package with the edible undies. The man said he’d found the package on his tray and assumed his manager or the hostess had put it there. Questioning revealed that neither the manager nor the hostess had ever seen the box. Kyle left with a list of employees and club members.

His whole family—and Madison’s—belonged to the club. He’d faxed the lists up to Ricky at the main office to see what the big computer could turn up.

Now he needed to move. Hands on. He needed to find this killer, and that meant getting out to look for him himself.

Even when he wanted to be…home.

Home had meant an apartment in Virginia for a long time now. It was odd to realize how quickly this place had become home again. How quickly Madison’s place had become home, the place where he wanted to be. He didn’t dare think about it too much right now. Not after last night. Not after she had looked at him and told him that Darryl had done nothing wrong, except that he wasn’t him.

His blood quickened. Hell, he had just gotten married. He should be on a honeymoon. He’d been expected back to work, though; they’d sent him down here to help crack a case. And no matter how much he wanted to spend time with Madison, to guard her with his sheer presence, he knew that this case had to be solved if they were ever going to have a life.

And despite the fact that he was seriously considering resigning, he’d said he was reporting back to work. Well, hell, here he was—working.

Kyle thought about Jimmy Gates, back at his office that morning, awaiting forensic results. In spite of the condition of Holly’s dismembered body, the coroner’s office had been able to establish that she had engaged in sexual relations prior to her murder. Whether they had been forced or not was impossible for the medical examiners to say, but they had been able to come up with a sperm sample for DNA comparison.

There had been other developments, too. Harry Nore had killed himself in his cell. An insane, pathetic ending to an insane, pathetic life. Kyle had known it on the island, because he’d read about it in the papers. But Harry’s death didn’t get him any closer to solving the recent rash of murders.

The dispatcher called in just as Jake Ramone stepped from the car to join Kyle. He paused to take the call, then turned to Kyle. “Sir, it’s your Washington office, patched in on the radio.”

Kyle took the radio. It was Ricky Haines.

“What’s up, Ricky?”

“Nothing much. I heard you got married.”

Kyle exhaled. Naturally. He’d reported in to his superiors, and word had filtered down.

“Yeah.”

“You married your sister?” Ricky said.

“She was once my stepsister,” Kyle said patiently.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry. Things just seem a little weird from this distance, you know?”

“Sure. Ricky, did you call to torment me, or is there a purpose to this?”

“Yep, there’s a purpose. You remember how you told me to look for any connection between these murders and Lainie Adair’s? I think you were on to something. I’ve been browsing through some old records. I wondered if you knew that one of Lainie Adair’s last movies was called A Rose among Thorns.”

“I remember it vaguely. She plays a woman in the mountains of West Virginia, right?”

“Yep. It’s a Cinderella story about a young woman who grows up with a pack of thieves. She’s too ashamed of what she is to fall for the hero, until he discovers that she isn’t who she thinks she is at all. She was kidnapped by the evil thieves from a rich New York family.”

“I remember.”

“Well, it gives credence to your theory that these murders are related to your stepmother’s murder, what with the killer’s ‘signature’ being a rose with thorns. You’re talking classic-case here. A man with a grudge against Lainie Adair, killing her, controlling his urge to kill for a while, then killing again. Women who look just Lainie, this time.”

“Thanks, Ricky. Call me with anything, no matter how small.”

“Will do. Oh, and congratulations. On marrying your sister.”

“Ricky, get a life,” Kyle said, breaking the connection. “Okay, Jake, let’s try the Rusty Rumhouse.”

It was dark inside. Smoky, and dark. There was a central bar, with tables scattered into the four corners of the room. Kyle found the manager, a pleasant fellow by the name of Brad Maxwell, and when Kyle produced a picture of Holly Tyler, one of the waitresses let out a little squeal.

“Yes. Yes! I waited on her. It wasn’t this weekend, but the, umm…Thursday or Friday before,” the girl volunteered excitedly. She was young, petite, no more than five-foot-one, with a headful of bouncing blond curls.

“What’s your name, miss?” Kyle asked her.

“Bitsy. Bitsy Larkin.”

“Well, Bitsy, thanks for remembering, and for being so helpful. It’s incredibly important. She must have eaten here on Friday,” Kyle said.

“You’re right! It had to be Friday, because she ordered the Friday special, the shrimp étouffée.”

“Right,” Kyle breathed, inhaling raggedly. He felt shaky inside. That was what police work was like. Weeks and weeks of work without a clue panning out, then some little step opened up the gates.

Please, God, he prayed in silence, let this be the step that gives us this lunatic!

“Can you remember who Holly was with?”

“Yeah, sure I can.”

“Think you could identify him?”

“Absolutely!” Bitsy vowed solemnly. “Oh, absolutely.”