“They’re obviously making a thorough job of their door to door search.”
“For all the good it’ll do,” he grumbled.
Caroline’s brow creased. “You don’t think they’ll find anything?”
He shook his head. “This guy is obviously smart or he would have been caught by now. Do you really imagine anyone with half a brain is going to leave incriminating evidence laying around?”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Brooke said.
“I hope
he
does.” Caroline rubbed her arms and shivered. “I don’t know what is worse, worrying about Steph and Marnie or wondering if I’ll be his next target.”
Elliot’s arm tightened around her. “You can’t think that way. You’ve never done anything that would make someone want to hurt you.”
Caroline’s voice rose. “What did Steph do, or Marnie? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe it isn’t random. Maybe he
is
picking his victims for a reason.” Brooke frowned down at the cracked sidewalk. “Can you think of anything those four women have in common other than the fact that they’re all from Woodvale and close in age?”
“It can’t be something that happened recently. Cybil hasn’t been back here in years.” Caroline’s lips tightened. “It seems ridiculous to think it could have anything to do with high school. That was so long ago.”
“Let’s hear a male perspective, Elliot. You knew them when we were kids. What do you think?”
“I didn’t know them very well. None of those girls gave me the time of day back then.” He scratched his jaw. “I think they were all cheerleaders.”
Caroline shook her head. “Tricia wasn’t.”
“See. I told you I didn’t know much about them. A couple of them dated Carter and Dillon, maybe all four.”
“Tricia didn’t. She was practically engaged to Harley. Steph dated Carter but not Dillon. Anyway, I don’t see what any of this has to do with some sick-o kidnapping them.”
Brooke squeezed her arm, feeling the tension through her sleeve. “Maybe he just grabs whoever is convenient.”
Caroline’s voice shook. “Is that better or worse?”
Elliot’s lips tightened in a firm line. “Either way, you don’t have to worry, honey. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Her eyes clouded. “What about you, Brooke? Who’s keeping you safe?”
She hitched her head toward the swings. “Have you taken a good look at my dog? No one is going to mess with me while Otis is around.”
Caroline’s lips curved in a hint of a smile. “He is rather intimidating.”
“Nearly gave Deputy Edwards a heart attack when he lunged out from under the kitchen table.”
Elliot grinned. “That must have been a sight.”
“It was.” She shifted and glanced toward the playground. “I’d better take Zack home. If you hear anything, will you call me?”
“Of course, and you do the same.”
She nodded and yelled, “Let’s go, Zack.”
He bailed out of the swing and landed on his hands and knees in the wood chips. Hopping to his feet, he ran toward her. “Did you see how high I swung?”
“High enough to touch the clouds. Don’t forget your backpack.”
“I won’t. Hurry, Brooke. I’m starving.”
With the dog leading the way, they headed toward home.
****
Brooke gave the table a final swipe with the dish rag and tossed the cloth into the sink just as the phone rang. “I’ll get it, Grandma.” She lifted the receiver, her voice breathless. “Hello.”
“Brooke, it’s Carter.”
“Oh, hi.” She sagged against the wall. She wasn’t expecting Dillon to call, not really. He’d barely said two words to her when he picked up Zack earlier. Still—
“Are you there, Brooke?”
She straightened. “I’m here.”
“I’m calling to collect on that rain check you owe me. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”
“No, but—”
“Great. I was thinking we could drive up the coast a ways and stop somewhere for dinner. The tension is so thick in town you can cut it. A change of scenery will do us both a world of good.”
“I don’t doubt it, but—”
“I’ll pick you up around five. That will give us plenty of time for a nice long drive.”
She gritted her teeth. “Carter, will you stop interrupting me.”
There was silence on the line for a long moment. His voice was cool when he spoke. “Please, you were saying.”
The vegetable soup she’d eaten for dinner sloshed uncomfortably in her stomach. She swallowed. “I don’t think another date is the best idea.”
“You owe me. Our last one got cut short when I was called to the hospital.”
Anger simmered.
So much for trying to be tactful.
“I don’t owe you anything. Let’s face it. We aren’t great together. There’s no spark, so I really don’t see the point in pursuing a relationship other than friendship.”
“How would you know if there’s chemistry between us? One little peck on the front porch and a couple of dances isn’t much to judge me by.” His voice lowered. “Believe me, I’ve never had any complaints in bed.”
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem finding someone else to date.”
Her comment was met with complete silence.
Had he hung up?
“Carter?”
“I was counting to ten. Why are you being such a hard ass about this? If you give me half a chance, you’ll see what a good time we could have together.”
“It’s not that I don’t think you’re a nice guy.” She frowned down at the muddy paw prints she must have missed when she mopped the floor earlier. “Or at least I did prior to this conversation.”
“Look, I’m sorry I raised my voice. It certainly wasn’t my intention to anger you. I let my temper get away with me.”
“That really isn’t the problem. Truthfully, I have feelings for someone else.”
“I heard you broke off an engagement before you moved up here. Who—oh.” His sigh should have stirred the hair above her ear. “It’s Dillon, isn’t it?”
“Let’s just say we’re exploring the possibilities.”
“Shit.”
She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. “Why do you care?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Woodvale isn’t exactly overrun with unattached women. Neither is Crescent City.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“They don’t look like you, Brooke.”
She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
“You will be when Dillon dumps you. He hasn’t exactly been a poster boy for committed relationships since his wife died.”
Her face heated. “I’ll take my chances. Goodnight, Carter.”
She slammed the phone on the hook and took a steadying breath. His words hurt because she knew they were true.
Chapter Thirteen
Brooke heaved the box full of Halloween decorations onto the top of the stack with a grunt and pressed her hand to the small of her back. The tower of neatly labeled packing boxes represented hours of sorting and organizing, but she’d cleared out enough space in the attic to turn it into a functioning bedroom. She wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and reached for the lantern perched on top of a crate full of old encyclopedias.
Hollow footsteps sounded above her. Her gaze flew to the open trap door as a long shadow blocked the late morning sun. “Brooke, are you down there?”
Her breath released in a gasp. “Give me a heart attack, why don’t you?”
“Should I come down?” Dillon called.
“Nope, I’m coming up.” She emerged from the cellar, the ladder creaking beneath her weight. Scuffed running shoes and long legs encased in faded denim came into view. Her gaze rose until it rested on the threadbare fabric cupping his—heat flashed through her, and she licked dry lips. “Howdy, stranger.”
His lips curved ruefully. “Sorry about that. It’s been a bitch of a week at work.”
She turned the wick down on the lantern and set it on the ground. “Want to help me with the door?”
“I’ve got it.” He grasped the ring and lowered the trap door. It dropped into place with a thud. He reached out a hand and rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. “Dirt.”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “I need to take a shower.”
The glow in his golden eyes turned molten. He cleared his throat. “Afterward would you like to eat lunch with Zack and me? No rain or fog in the forecast. I was thinking we could have a picnic at the beach, maybe roast some hot dogs.”
Relief filled her. He’d barely spoken to her in the last few days, picking up his son and rushing off with a frown permanently etched across his brow. She’d wondered if he regretted his vow to give their relationship a chance, or worse, never meant it to begin with.
“I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll get the food together while you take a shower. Come on over when you’re ready.”
“I won’t be long.”
She took a record breaking shower, slapped on some lotion, a dash of mascara, and dried her hair before donning a clean pair of jeans and a cozy, hand knit sweater. The sun was shining, but the breeze off the ocean would be frigid.
The steady whir of the sewing machine caught her attention as she stepped out into the hall. She poked her head into her brother’s old bedroom where her grandmother fed yards of royal blue material under the flashing needle. She looked up and smiled.
“Take a break, Grandma. I’m going to the beach with Dillon and Zack. Come with us.”
“I want to finish these curtains. Anyway, my back feels a little stiff today, and the cold will make it worse.”
Brooke frowned. “You’re stiff because you’ve been working too hard.”
“You’re a fine one to talk. You tackled that attic like a woman possessed.”
She ran her finger down a scratch in the doorframe. “Staying busy keeps me from worrying so much.”
“I know it does, but you definitely need a break. Have fun at the beach.”
“Only if you promise to relax this afternoon.”
“Oh, I will. I’m going to put my feet up, drink a cup of tea, and read that new romance novel I bought yesterday. Don’t you worry about me.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you later, Grandma.”
She ran down the stairs, grabbed her jacket and a pair of gloves, and left through the kitchen door. Zack and Otis were rolling together on the back lawn.
Dillon set a picnic basket and a beach bag filled with sand toys into the cargo area of the truck and smiled. “All ready to go?”
She nodded, heat sizzling through her veins as his gaze held hers. “Are we taking the dog?”
“Why not?” He raised his voice. “Let’s go, Zack.” The boy and dog sprinted across the yard and leaped through the open rear door of the pickup.
“This is going to be so fun. You haven’t taken me to the beach in forever and ever.”
“I know, buddy, and I’m sorry about that.” Dillon slammed the truck door and started the engine. “I’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse.”
Brooke turned in the seat and smiled. “We’ll make up for it today. We’ll build the biggest sandcastle ever constructed with towers and turrets, and—”
“A moat!” Zack yelled. Otis barked deafeningly, and the boy dissolved into giggles.
****
They set up camp in the lee of a giant driftwood log. Dillon started a small bonfire, nursing the flames against the wind. Zack and Brooke filled bucket after bucket with wet sand and lined them up on the beach. She had the legs of her jeans rolled up to her knees as she waded in and out of the tide, trying her best to keep his son semi-dry. He appreciated her efforts. In fact, he appreciated everything about her from the sparkle in her blue eyes and the smiling curve of her lips to the way her jeans cupped her ass when she bent over to dig beside Zack.
It was clear she adored his boy and wasn’t putting up a false front like some of the other women he’d dated. Marnie pretended to enjoy Zack’s company on the few occasions the three of them spent time together, though it was obvious she wasn’t a big fan of children, especially energetic, loud, little boys. But she’d tried.
He turned the hot dogs roasting over the bed of coals, then thrust his hands into his pockets. He would
not
think about Marnie or Steph. Not today. Today was about spending time with his son and Brooke, exploring the possibility of taking their relationship to the next level. The idea of forming any kind of commitment still sent an uneasy shudder down his spine. He’d been certain his marriage to Gail was perfect before everything fell apart. It was so much easier to keep relationships casual.
Easier but less satisfying
. The thought niggled at his conscience. Maybe it was time to let down his guard and open his heart to the possibility of love.
“Hot dogs are ready,” he called.
Zack’s shriek rent the air as he raced full speed toward him, his bare feet pounding the sand. The dog loped at his side. Brooke followed at a slower pace. She reached them just as the boy grabbed for the buns with filthy hands. Laughing she snatched him back against her chest. “Not until you get cleaned up.”
“But I’m starving.”
“I have wipes.” Dillon pulled the plastic container out of the picnic basket and handed her one. She went to work on Zack’s hands and the streaks of sand caked on his face.
When he was clean, Dillon handed his son a plate filled with a hot dog, chips, and a small bunch of grapes. “Sit on the blanket, and don’t feed your grapes to Otis. I don’t think they’re good for dogs.”
“I bet he’d like a hot dog.”
“I’m sure he would. I’d like a Ferrari, but I’m not going to get one.” Brooke used a towel to rub the sand out from between her toes.
Zack frowned. “Huh?”
“Don’t feed the dog.” Dillon set down his plate and picked up her foot. “My God, there’re purple.”
She curled her toes into his palm. “The ocean tends to be a little chilly in March.”
He lifted both her feet into his lap and rubbed circulation back into them. Her heels rested on the button closure of his fly. He sucked in his breath. “What about you, Zack?”
“Otis is keeping my feet warm,” he answered around a mouthful of hot dog. “See.” He stuffed his legs further beneath the dog. Drool pooled on the sand as Otis stared at the boy’s lunch.
They finished eating in silence. Dillon couldn’t speak, could barely breath. Each shift of position or wiggle of her toes pressed her feet more firmly against his straining erection. She couldn’t help but notice what she was doing to him.
Could she?
It certainly felt like he was sporting the king daddy of all boners. Thankfully, the towel he’d dropped across his lap hid it.