We'll Never Tell (Secrets of Ravenswood) Page 5

  But right now she needed sleep. Leaving her glass on the counter, she headed to the bedroom. After stripping off her clothes, she donned an oversized T-shirt with RAW embroidered on the front pocket, brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face, and crawled into bed. Visions of Darby sprawled on the asphalt flashed through her mind. It was an accident, nothing more. Just an accident…

  Sam woke at the first hint of dawn creeping through the open blinds. After showering and dressing in jeans and a striped knit top, she headed for the kitchen. Punching the still flashing button on the answering machine as she passed, she reached for the coffee carafe.

  “A little reminder of our deal, Sam.” The voice was low and brusque, barely louder than a whisper. “You don’t mention what you saw in the woods that night all those years ago, and your friends won’t pay the price.”

  The carafe slipped through stiff fingers and shattered on the tile floor. Clutching the counter for support, Sam stared at the machine. It wavered as darkness blurred her vision. She slid to a sitting position on the floor and hung her head between her knees. Do not pass out. Do not pass out.

  The phone rang, and already stretched nerves snapped. With a whimper, she pressed back against the cupboard doors. The shrill sound went on and on, hammering her brain. Finally the machine picked up.

  “Sam, are you awake? Call me. I talked to…”

  Rising to her feet, she leaped across the broken glass and snatched up the receiver. “Juliette.”

  “Oh good, you’re up. I just got off the phone with Alice Kincade. They’re releasing Darby from the hospital later this morning. She’s driving down to San Francisco now.”

  “Juliette…” Her voice shook.

  “Thank God it’s Saturday, so I don’t have ballet classes to teach. Do you want to go to the city with me?”

  “Juliette…” She swallowed against a surge of nausea and pressed her hand to her mouth.

  “Are you okay? You don’t sound so good.” Concern and a touch of panic laced her tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “He called.” Taking a breath, she tried to steady her voice.

  “Who, Ethan?”

  “No, him, the man from the woods.” The silence in her ear was deafening. “Juliette, are you there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I think I need to sit down.”

  “It gets worse. His message said that Darby was a warning to keep my mouth shut.”

  “He said that?” Her voice rose high and thin.

  “Words to that affect. It was definitely implied.”

  “Oh God.”

  “That about sums it up.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and stared at the broken glass shining beneath the fluorescent light.

  “How did he find out you unearthed the body?”

  “Everyone in town probably knows about it by now. That kind of news travels fast.”

  Juliette’s labored breathing was audible through the phone line. “Do you think he’s a local?”

  Her words struck like a punch to the gut. Sam doubled over. The thought that the man was someone she’d passed on the street, maybe spoken to, had never occurred to her. He was a dark figure, far removed from reality. Certainly not a part of her everyday life.

  “I suppose he could be,” she said slowly, “though that isn’t what I meant. Someone local could have spread the word. If he knows anyone who lives here…” She swallowed.

  “What’re we going to do?” Juliette’s voice was thick with tears.

  Sam straightened. “I’ll ask Ken if they’ve identified the body yet. Until they do, our story isn’t going to help much in an investigation. Let’s keep quiet for now and see what Darby thinks. She’s the one he hurt, so she has a stake in any decision we make.”

  “How can you sound so calm? I want to crawl in a hole—a really deep hole—and never come out.”

  Sam stared at the broken carafe. “I’m doing my best not to freak out, here.”

  “We have to go to the police.”

  She let out a slow breath. “I know, but will the authorities protect us—and Darby—after we report what we saw that night? Darby has a right to be forewarned before we do anything to incite this nutcase further.”

  “I’d rather tell her in person.” Juliette’s breath whooshed out on a gusty sigh. “This isn’t the kind of news you share in a text message.”

  Sam snorted. “Is there an abbreviated way to text Killer on the prowl—beware? How soon can you be ready to go?”

  “Half an hour. I’ll pick you up.”

  Her lips formed a tight line. “Bring coffee. I’m going to need a new pot.”

  ****

  Darby’s blue eyes flashed fire beneath the white, gauze bandage taped to her forehead. He did this to me. You’re sure?”

  Sam glanced around the pale green, generic room. Her friend perched on the edge of the bed dressed in the torn pants and dirty blouse she’d worn into the emergency room the night before. Darby’s mother, Alice Kincade, was down the hall filling out the paperwork to spring her daughter from the hospital before she carried out her threat to take drastic action to insure her release.

  “He referred to your accident as a reminder of our deal.”

  “I’d like to kick the rat-bastard in the balls. These scrapes hurt, and my head is still throbbing, despite the pain killers.”

  “At least you weren’t badly injured.” Juliette’s smile shook, and she squeezed Darby’s arm. “If we talk to the police, next time he may not be content with a warning.”

  “There won’t be a next time.” Darby grimaced as she eased off the bed. “He won’t catch me unawares again.”

  “You can’t be on guard twenty-four seven, Darb,” Sam informed her. “Maybe you should take a vacation until this is cleared up.”

  Darby pushed a strand of mink brown hair over her shoulder. “You make murder and aggravated assault sound like a rash. What about the two of you?”

  “Juliette could go with you. You can drink mai tais on some tropical beach while the cabana boy rubs you down with tanning lotion.”

  A broad grin stretched Darby’s cheeks. “As enticing as that sounds, I’m in the middle of a big research project.”

  “And I have a ballet school to run.” Juliette fisted her hands on her hips and stared at her friend.

  Sam let out a breath. “I didn’t figure you’d agree, but I thought it was worth a try.”

  “You were planning to be a martyr and deal with this psycho alone?” Darby scowled, her brows lowering.

  “I have friends with connections. Ken would raise holy hell with local law enforcement if he knew I was in danger.”

  Juliette’s innocent brown eyes contrasted sharply with the sly smile curving her lips. “I bet Ethan would be happy to offer you round the clock protection.”

  Darby turned to face them. “Ethan who?”

  “Thorne. He’s a few years older than us. Raises dogs. I’m sure you’d recognize him if you saw him.”

  “Tall, dark, and handsome—I remember.” Darby eyed Sam. “You’re blushing.”

  “That’s irritation, not embarrassment,” she snapped. “We went on one date. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Could have been,” Juliette muttered.

  Sam rolled her eyes. “Can we focus on what’s important, please? Alice will be back any minute.”

  “Don’t you dare say a word about this to my mom,” Darby said between gritted teeth. “She’d insist on moving in with me—or hiring a bodyguard. I’m not sure which would be worse.”

  “You have to promise to be careful, Darb. If we tell the authorities—”

  “If!” Her voice rose. “If? Christ, Sam, we have to report it. We witnessed a murder. There’s no pretending to ourselves the woman survived. Not anymore.”

  Sam eyed the stubborn set of Darby’s mouth before meeting Juliette’s troubled gaze. “We’re all in agreement, then? We’ll go to the sheriff as soon as we get home?”

  Juliette nodded.

  “He
can call me with any questions,” Darby said. “I don’t have time for a trip to Ravenswood right now.”

  “Too bad.” Juliette’s voice was wistful. “It’d be like old times, all of us together again.”

  “Darby’s expression softened. “Maybe in a month or so, after I finish my current project. This client isn’t the type to wait around for answers. You aren’t leaving anytime soon, are you, Sam?”

  “Not until they find the guy who killed that woman.” She waved her arm to indicate the sterile room. “The same animal who put you in here.” Her voice was grim. “I’m not going anywhere until this is over.”

  ****

  Clouds scudded across the sky, big, white puffs with gray underbellies. Sam stuffed her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt and lowered her head against the wind, side-stepping around a big man yelling into his cell phone. She glanced up when a wolf whistle caught her attention, and grinned at the arm extended from a Fish and Game truck, thumb turned up.

  Hurrying the last block, she pushed open the door to the dance studio—and screamed. Flames leapt from a trash can in the hallway. Rushing forward, she turned and kicked the tall, wicker basket out the door. A flaming ball of paper rolled onto the sidewalk as the basket landed on the welcome mat. Stepping around it, she reached for the watering can set next to a tub of fall flowers.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Eyes wide in horror, Juliette barreled down the stairs, flew across the short hall, and grabbed the can from Sam before running back inside.

  Spying a rake tossed atop a pile of leaves heaped on the small front lawn, Sam picked it up and pounded the flaming paper. Hollow footsteps echoed against the sidewalk behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder.

  Ethan pulled the rake from her unresisting grip and went to work on the flames while Juliette doused them with the can full of water. In less than a minute, the trash basket was reduced to smoldering remains.

  Eyeing the mess, he nodded to Juliette. “Maybe one more can of water, just to be on the safe side.”

  She disappeared inside, and Sam let out a long breath as she met his startled gaze. “Talk about an adrenaline rush.”

  “You could have been hurt.” Blue eyes flashed with a hint of anger, and his hands clenched around the rake handle. “Why the hell didn’t you call 911?”

  “I didn’t think. I just reacted. It happened so fast.”

  Juliette returned and poured a stream of water over the smoking basket. “Thank God you came when you did.” Her hands shook. “What if I’d been teaching a class?” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “My girls could have been hurt.”

  “Don’t think like that. It’ll make you crazy.” Sam reached over and squeezed her friend’s tense arm. “You weren’t, so no harm done.”

  “Only some blistered paint and a scorch mark on the floor. I guess I was lucky.”

  Ethan raked the soggy heap into a neat pile. “Do you have any idea how it started? Did someone throw a cigarette butt in the trash without putting it out first?”

  “No one’s been inside this morning but me. I was paying bills while I waited for Sam.”

  “The door wasn’t locked.” Sam stared down at the mess at her feet.

  “No, I left it open for you.”

  The pulse at her temple throbbed as anger gripped her. “Anyone could have come in, and you wouldn’t have heard them from your office upstairs.”

  “Probably not.” Fists clenched, Juliette looked up and down the street. “Was it him? Was this another reminder?”

  Ethan glanced sharply from one woman to the other. “You think the fire was set deliberately? Is that what I just heard?”

  Sam bit her lip. Desire to pour out the entire story clawed at her. She met Juliette’s gaze. Her friend’s face was a sickly shade of white, her brown eyes huge.

  “What’ll he do to us if we tell the police?” she whispered.

  “Juliette, are you in some kind of trouble?” Ethan’s voice was soft, encouraging.

  Sam would burst if she had to hold the words in another minute. “Can I?”

  Juliette gave an abrupt nod.

  Relief flooded through Sam, leaving her lightheaded. Dumping their story on Ethan’s broad shoulders might not solve the problem, but it couldn’t hurt. Could it?

  “Let’s clean this up and go inside.” She touched Ethan’s arm, her fingers tingling against the warm, hair dusted skin. “Do you have a spare hour?”

  “Of course, but if you suspect arson—”

  “The fire is the least of our problems.” Juliette glanced between them. “You don’t need me to fill him in on the details, and quite frankly, I may scream if I have to listen to the whole, horrible tale. Go home, Sam, and call me later. I’m good with whatever decision you come to.”

  “Darby—”

  “Darby trusts your judgment as much as I do.”

  Sam chewed her lower lip. “Fine.”

  Using a dust pan, Ethan scooped the soggy, sooty remnants of the basket into a trash bag and left for a garbage bin down the alley behind the studio. When he passed his pickup, he slammed the door he’d left hanging open.

  Tearing her gaze away from the solid set of his shoulders, Sam glanced at the watch strapped to her wrist. Less than ten minutes had passed since she’d walked through the studio door and discovered the blaze. It seemed an eternity. Slipping her arm around Juliette’s waist, she gave her a squeeze. “You’re sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  “Positive. He won’t do anything else today, will he?” Her voice quavered.

  “I think he made his point.”

  “Maybe Ethan will have something constructive to suggest.”

  “Let’s hope.” Sam’s gaze strayed to Ethan’s loose-limbed stride as he returned, and she lowered her voice. “Am I wrong to trust him?”

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  Meeting a piercing blue stare, her uncertainty disappeared. “To go for it.”

  Chapter Six

  “That’s one hell of a story.”

  Ethan stared at Sam across the scarred surface of the small, oak table. Her face was pale beneath her tan, and she clutched the mug of hot chocolate so tight her knuckles gleamed whiter than bare bone.

  “You girls never told anyone?”

  “We were twelve, Ethan. We were too scared to go to the sheriff. Believe me, we agonized over the decision.”

  “Your parents—”

  “Mine were in Greece at the time. I remember thinking if they’d only taken me and Wyatt with them, I wouldn’t have been in the woods that night. And neither would Juliette and Darby.”

  He scooted his chair around to her side and pried her hands off the mug. Holding cold fingers between his warm palms, he squeezed gently. “What about your friends? They didn’t say anything?”

  Her lips pressed together, the skin drawing tight across her cheekbones. “We made a pact.”

  Anger churned in Ethan’s gut. His hands gripped hers until she squeaked in protest.

  “Sorry.” He released her and grabbed on to the edge of the table. “I want to punch something. Honest to God. Imagining three little girls witnessing a murder—even if it was unintentional—scared out of your minds…” His temples throbbed, and he let out a long breath.

  “Over time, we convinced ourselves the woman wasn’t dead, just injured. We grew up, went about our lives…” She ran a finger along a scratch in the table top.

  “Don’t pretend that night didn’t make a lasting impact, Sam. You’re tough, but not that tough.”

  Her smile shook. “I guess I’m not.”

  “And now that sorry sack of shit is threatening you again?”

  “The message he left after Darby’s accident is still on the recorder.” She glanced over at the machine. “He didn’t call after the fire. Maybe he thought we were smart enough to figure it out for ourselves.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Juliette and I were going to tell the sheriff today. We all agreed, but now…” S
he bit her lip.

  “You’re afraid the next time won’t be scrapes and bruises or a singed floor.”

  She looked directly at him, her beautiful green eyes shadowed with worry. “What do you think we should do?”

  “Move in with me.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, but he didn’t regret the outburst. The thought of something happening to Sam made his heart ache.

  Her lips curved. “You’re sweet, but playing bodyguard won’t solve the problem.”

  “If it keeps this asshole from taking a shot at you, it’s a damn good start.”

  “What about Juliette and Darby? I won’t leave my friends to fend for themselves. Maybe we should do what he wants and stay quiet. Let the police figure it out without our help.”

  “Honestly, can you live with that?”

  “I can try.”

  The seconds ticked by. In the corner, the refrigerator kicked on with a loud hum. Ethan leaned back in his chair, letting her story sink in. “If you tell the sheriff everything you know, this cretin won’t have any more reason to try to keep you quiet.”

  “Except revenge.” A shudder ran through her.

  “He killed that woman by accident in a fit of anger, but he let you and your friends go. He doesn’t seem like a cold-blooded murderer.”

  “My point exactly. If we tell the sheriff what we saw, it may enrage him into a rash act.”

  “They’ll reconstruct the woman’s face and match it to the missing persons database. With DNA and dental records, it won’t be long before the authorities have a positive ID for her.”

  Frown lines etched across her brow. “He was her boyfriend. They must have told people they were going camping that weekend.”

  “I’m sure the police will track him down for questioning as a person of interest.” His fingers itched to tuck the dangling strand of hair behind her ear, to smooth away the worry creases bracketing her pink mouth. But he couldn’t make this threat disappear.

  “But—and it’s a big but—Juliette, Darby, and I are the only ones who can tie him irrevocably to the murder. Our testimony would send him to prison.”

  Her words, spoken in a matter of fact tone, chilled his blood. The killer would only remain anonymous until the victim’s identity was revealed. Afterwards… “Shit.”