Unforgivable (Romantic Suspense) Page 4

She nodded, giving up asking him how he knew. “I was in the back yard when I heard your saw.”

  “Where’s Ben?”

  “Helping a farmer with a foaling mare.”

  “He good to you?”

  It took her a second to realize what he was asking. “Very. He helped me through some tough years.”

  His eyes darkened for a moment, as though he blamed himself for not being there for her. Which was ridiculous since he didn’t owe her anything, and he’d only been a teenager himself. “Good. As long as you’re happy.”

  “I am happy. Very happy.” The words shot out of her mouth. “I have what I wanted all my life: security. Though Mama gave me a lot of emotional security, we didn’t always have money for the bills. With the Emersons, I always knew I’d have food and a roof over my head, even if I did have to share that roof with six other kids and a room with two sisters who weren’t particularly happy about the addition to the family. I’m sure they thought I wasn’t going to pull my share of the load. I worked harder than any of them to prove myself.”

  He was standing too close, watching her too intently. She stepped back again. “Anyway, Ben was there through all of it. Marrying him was natural.” Expected.

  He merely nodded, keeping his opinion from his face, but the way he was looking at her… “As long as you’re happy. That’s all that’s important.” His soft voice belied that soul-searching look in his eyes.

  “I am.” She looked at the house again. “How long are you going to be staying here? Looks like for a while.”

  “I don’t stay anywhere for long.”

  She tried to tamp down the disappointment that he’d be leaving soon. No, it was good that he was leaving soon. She didn’t need this, this strange feeling of having him close. To add to her discomfort, he swept her with his gaze and said, “You grew up good, Katie.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Thanks.” It seemed silly, not to mention unwise, to reciprocate the compliment, so she left it at that. Still, she wondered what he’d meant by it. She wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore, but she wasn’t overly attractive, either. She waved toward the doorway. “I should probably get going, in case Ben calls or comes home. I don’t want to worry him.”

  He followed her down the steps. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “You don’t have—” She abruptly turned around, sending him crashing into her. For a moment their bodies connected, her breasts to his chest, thigh to thigh. He grabbed her arms to catch her balance. She laughed, because it was the only way to release the pressure building inside her. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were so”—she took note of his hands on her arms—“close behind me.”

  He also seemed to realize he was still holding onto her and let go.

  “You don’t have to walk me back. You’re busy, and I know the way. After all, I got here alone, didn’t I?”

  “I’d still feel better walking with you.”

  She could see the stubborn set of his jaw and gave in with a nod. She started walking into the bosom of the forest, and he walked with her.

  “You always wander around in the woods at night?” he asked a few minutes later.

  “Not at night. When I have time on the weekend, I go for walks.”

  “Be careful, Katie. You never know what’s out here.”

  Like you, she wanted to say. She was still caught up in his warning, the propriety of it. “I suppose that’s true.”

  As she neared her yard, she started worrying that Ben might be there. He got so funny when he couldn’t find her. He liked to keep tabs on her because he cared about her. She stopped just shy of the gazebo.

  She didn’t know what to say as she stood facing him. “I’d invite you in, but…”

  “I understand.”

  She started to say something else when he brushed his hand over her hair. Just a casual touch, the way a husband would touch a wife. As though she belonged to him. She shivered at the thought. “Silas…” The words died in her throat at hearing the pleading tone in that one word. She cleared her throat and her head. “It was good to see you again. Stop by the hospital sometime and say hello.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that,” he said in the way one does when they don’t mean it.

  This would probably be the last time she’d talk to him. She wanted to give him a hug, something to show him how much he’d meant to her all those years ago. Instead, she said, “I’m sorry about, well, about everything.”

  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, moving close enough to force her to look up at him. His touch, casual though it was, sent a peculiar warmth down her body, as though someone had poured warm molasses over her head. “Don’t blame yourself. I told you, what I did was my choice.” He looked away for a moment, then back at her. “You probably don’t even know what you gave me that day.”

  “Gave you? Trouble maybe.”

  He didn’t smile at her lame attempt at a joke. “You trusted me, Katie. You were the first person to ever trust me.” He brushed her chin with his knuckles and backed away. Then he disappeared into the night.

  Silas watched her touch her chin as she walked into the house. He saw her briefly in the door window as she searched for him. She was gone just as quickly. He made it back to his house in half the time. He didn’t want her to know how many times he’d made this trip, so he’d let her lead the way.

  She might have trusted him before, but she had no reason to trust him now.

  He went back to trimming the wood so he could reset the front door. Was Katie still listening to the sound of the saw? He never imagined that she could hear him from this distance or especially that she’d walk over to check it out. She hadn’t lost her adventurousness, that was for sure.

  Sawdust coated his forearm as he finished the cut. He hoped she couldn’t see how astounded he was to find her there. He’d been no less attracted to her than she was to him. He suspected that if they’d met when she was in her late teens, there would be a certain chemistry between them. She’d grown up to be a beautiful young woman, though that was hardly a surprise. With her glossy brown hair and wide-set brown eyes, she wasn’t a classic beauty, but she was enchanting all the same. She was still thin, and her arms were still long. Her birthmark was partially hidden by the man shirt she wore. Perfect in her own way.

  She was the reason he’d come back. Not for the attraction, he assured himself. God, how he’d wanted to just take her in his arms, though. He shook his head, sending a faint shower of sawdust spiraling to the ground. To touch her, to hold her…even the brief touches he’d been compelled to take had sent a rush through him.

  He walked back to the doorway with the finished wood. The Boss was standing in the opening, as though contemplating whether he wanted to walk the distance to where Silas had been cutting. Silas set the wood against the doorway and sat down on the top step. The Boss wandered over and settled down with his head on Silas’s thigh. Poor old guy. He was probably too old to be hauling around with him, but Silas just didn’t have the heart to give him away or worse, send him to a shelter. He had to know that someone would give him his arthritis medication, had to know that someone would stand by him when the time came to say goodbye.

  Silas massaged The Boss’s paws and then his back legs. “What’d you think of Katie, big guy? Pretty cute, huh?”

  The dog let out a sigh, agreement if Silas ever heard it.

  Katie. Even though he hadn’t spoken with her in eighteen years, she’d been part of him for so long, he felt as though she somehow belonged to him. He had to remind himself that she didn’t. There was no way he and Katie could get involved. Her being married presented one problem. All those years ago in Atlanta, living on the streets at times, he’d found God. Or maybe God had found him. Either way, religion had given him the hope and belief to fight his way off the streets, and then to deal with the horrors he’d witnessed since then.

  He respected Katie’s vow of marriage, even though she wasn’t happy with Ben. Not really happy
, anyway. From their encounter tonight, he knew that sweeping her off her feet wouldn’t be hard, but that’s not what he wanted. Putting her through that kind of turmoil would be too hard on both of them. His reasons for coming back were purely unselfish.

  The Boss snorted, as if to contradict him.

  “Totally unselfish, my friend.” He glanced at the place where he’d found Katie lurking. He couldn’t have her for himself, and that was something he’d accepted long ago.

  Something else invaded his tumultuous feelings. He recognized it right away, the insidious way the evil quietly lurked at the edge of his consciousness. Stop, he ordered, knowing he could only allay it temporarily. It moved relentlessly forward, the anticipation of cruel pleasure, the thrill of the hunt, salivation at the prospect of fulfillment.

  He’d been such a good boy, coloring inside the lines.

  Black and white, good and evil.

  Reward time.

  Not now. Silas wanted to savor the effect seeing Katie had on him for a while longer.

  Soon those bittersweet thoughts eroded away, giving full reign to the sadistic ones that had haunted him for years. He knew the pattern, knew it was hopeless to shove them away. He walked to his vehicle. He felt the pull and knew he was powerless to stop it. Just like the other times.

  He was glad Katie hadn’t asked him why he’d come back. He wasn’t prepared to tell her the truth or a lie. There were things he had to do first, one of them earning her trust. You couldn’t just throw that kind of thing at someone the first time you’d seen her in eighteen years. Hi, Katie. You’re looking well. Me, I’m fine. By the way, someone wants to finish off your life in the most heinous way you can possibly imagine. And it’s someone you know.

  CHAPTER 3

  Black and white.

  Some pompous psychologist might have diagnosed him with multiple personalities. Not so.

  Day and Night.

  He was like everyone else, with a polite side he showed to polite society, and a selfish side he kept to himself. The good side longed to belong, to be loved, to color within the lines. The bad side that longed to take what he deserved teased at the edges of his life until he could no longer ignore it. And why should he ignore it? This one secret pleasure was his reward for being good the rest of the time.

  Two sides of a coin.

  This was his secret pleasure, and the secret was the sweetest part. He held it the way a man would hold the Hope diamond to his breast. If he told anyone, they would surely take it away. They would grill him for the details, how he’d killed them, why he’d killed them, where were the bodies? They’d try to pick his psyche apart, categorize his childhood fears and traumas, his stormy adolescence. They’d try to discover the reason for his behavior. There was nothing wrong with him. He simply liked hunting women, the same way other men liked hunting deer and boar. Women were infinitely more interesting than deer and boar.

  Good and evil.

  The sweetest part was that no one could stop him. Which was good because restraining himself was getting harder and harder. He prided himself on restraint, on holding back the urgent desires. Only five months since the last time. She should have lasted him longer. They used to sate his hunger for a year or more. He used to tell himself, just once more, too. Like that had worked. And why should he restrain himself? Hadn’t he earned the right to a little pleasure once in a while? If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? So deserved? Be a good boy, a voice from his childhood intoned. Color between the lines. But the hunger started earlier now, a sweet hunger that coiled through his insides and brought him alive.

  Fog settled into the culverts along the road as though waiting to catch its own prey. Old clapboard homes were spread out here in this rural area. Trucks set up on blocks adorned a yard here and there, along with the occasional rusty appliance. It was a lot like Possum Holler. This time of night, the chickens were settled into wherever they slept. He couldn’t tell if the dark lumps on the ground were dogs or other debris. The houses nearby were dark. A dog barked in the distance. The moon was only a sliver, hardly enough to lift the gloom. The girl, however...the girl he could see quite clearly.

  She was probably in her teens, with her arms crossed in front of her and her shoulders hunched as she walked away from a dingy house. She glanced up as his vehicle passed her by, then stared downward again. She wasn’t his chosen, but he wasn’t a man to pass up a golden opportunity.

  He backed up. She peered in his window as he stopped beside her.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  She glanced back at the house. “I missed my curfew and I guess my mom’s teaching me a lesson by locking me out.”

  Her shoulder-length blonde hair was in disarray and her lush mouth was pushed into a frown. Pretty enough. Hunger bubbled inside him. “Is there some way I can help you? Our youngest is spending the night with friends. You could stay in her room tonight.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “About ten miles from here, toward Gray. If you’re hungry, my wife could probably whip up something for you. You could call your mom in the morning or wait a bit and make her worry. Locking her daughter out of the house for the night is a cruel thing to do.”

  “Tell me about it.” She glanced back to the house. If anyone was watching, they’d have come out by now. “I was going to walk to my friend Gwen’s house. It’s about two miles up the road.” She smirked. “If her mom’ll let me stay. We don’t get along too well. She thinks I’m a troublemaker.” She smiled then. “I’m not, really. I only missed my curfew by a few minutes.”

  “That’s a lousy deal. Your mom would never forgive herself if something happened to you. Look, I can take you to your friend’s. At least I know you’ll get there safe. I don’t like the idea of a young woman walking around by herself at night. I’d sure want someone to help my daughter in the same situation.”

  She nodded. “All right, thanks.”

  The door closed with a sweet thud.

  “I’m Clancy, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “Carrie.”

  He never gave out his real name, just in case the girl got away. Not that it had happened yet. One girl had run off and he’d been forced to shoot her. Bad thing, that. No joy in shooting a girl in the back.

  She was chatting about her boyfriend and how her mother disapproved of him. Did one conviction of marijuana possession make him a bad person?

  “Nothing wrong with getting high once in a while,” he said, enjoying the look of surprise on her face.

  “You get high? No way.”

  “What, you think because I’m an adult I can’t have fun anymore?”

  She laughed. “I thought a family man would have to give that kind of thing up.”

  “A man’s entitled to some secret fun once in a while.” He wondered if she could see his smile at the truth of that statement. “A reward for good behavior.”

  “Too cool. You sneak a toke and your wife doesn’t even know!” Her expression changed to something like his own. “You got some on you now?”

  “I have some at my special place. Blue Moonshine.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I order the seeds from California and grow my own. It’ll take all your troubles away.” This could be even more interesting. He let that sit between them for a moment, sensing her interest, watching her mull over the possibility. Then he casually tossed out, “We could go share a joint.” He glanced at his clock. “But you wanted to go to your friend’s house, and it’s getting pretty late.”

  She was hooked, he could tell by the mischievous glint in her eyes. “You did say I could hang at your house, didn’t you? I’m not even sure I can stay with Gwen. Her mom is such a drag.”

  His smile broadened. “It would be fun to get stoned with someone else for a change.”

  “Sounds good to me. That’ll teach Mama. She locks me out, I get stoned with some family man. And when she doesn’t know where I am in the morning, she’ll really get
worried. I bet this is the last time she does this to me.”

  “I’ll bet it is, too.”

  He settled back in the seat and enjoyed the ride. She regaled him with stories about different drugs she’d done, nothing serious. Speed to get through finals, Quaaludes once in a while. He told her about his experience with angel dust and the times he’d done mushrooms.

  He’d never done a drug in his life. He didn’t like losing control.

  He pulled onto a road that was nearly grown over with vegetation. As soon as the car was a suitable distance off the highway, and hidden from sight, he pulled to a stop at a metal gate that blocked the way. NO TRESSPASSING! TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT! the rusty sign stated. Beyond that, the road disappeared beneath layers of leaves and growth. He quelled the urge to giggle in delight as the first look of apprehension melted her grin. Once he cut the headlights, they were thrown into darkness.

  “Clancy, this is kinda creepy.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know the way by heart, and it’s not far from here. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise.” Even though he always asked their name, he never used it. She was not a person with a mother and boyfriend, she was something for his pleasure. His reward.

  Still she hesitated, staring into the blackness in front of the car.

  “We can skip the joint if you’re uneasy,” he offered.

  She pushed her door open. “Let’s do it.”

  As soon as they approached the gate, the sensor was triggered, sending a message to his beeper. It always soothed him when it went off, as it did now. The moment anyone got near the special place, he’d be alerted.

  From the gate, even in the daytime, his special place couldn’t be seen. It was, contrary to what he’d said, quite a distance from the gate. The building was hardly visible in the gloom, but he knew exactly where it was. It was at night that he visited it the most. He unlocked the rusty hinge lock, opened the old wooden door and stepped inside.

  The battery-powered light cast a dim glow throughout the small room. It smelled musty, but there was nothing to indicate what had happened there before, the pleas for mercy, the sex, or the blood. The walls were painted dark red to match the exterior. A battered table sat off to the side, a dilapidated couch sat against the wall. A twin bed with rust-spotted head and foot rails was tucked into the corner. All from junk sales out of town. Beneath the bed, where she couldn’t see, was a bedpan. He’d learned that freeing them to relieve themselves gave them an opportunity to escape. More than anything, he was a man who valued his freedom.