Authors: Lisa Jackson
Afraid to Die (28 page)
With effort, he calmed himself once more.
“Silent Night” was playing again ... and as he stared down at the woman beneath the fractured ice, seeing her dead eyes looking up at him, he began to hum again, the lyrics rolling through his brain.
Sleep in heavenly peace ...
Chapter 26
T
hey made love that night.
hey made love that night.
Desperately, as if they knew they might not get a chance again. Alvarez had been already home, in her pajamas, when she'd heard the knock on the door and O'Keefe had been on her doorstep, looking as bone weary as she'd felt. She'd nearly broken down at the sight of him, and when he'd held his arms open, she'd flung herself into them, seeking solace and comfort for her battered heart.
She'd known of her son all of her life, of course, but tucked away in that locked corner of her mind, she'd kept the loneliness and despair at bay. Balmed by the fact that she'd “done the right thing,” that “he was better off with a stable family who loved him,” she'd gone about her life without looking too closely at her own feelings, just bottled them up and turned her attention first to school and then to her work.
Until now.
Until she'd met the boy and found out that he wasn't all right; that he was in trouble.
There was no need for explanations, no time for more conversation; she'd locked the door behind O'Keefe and walked up the stairs holding his hand, him one step behind her, even giving her rump a playful pat. When they'd reached the bedroom, they'd stripped each other of clothing and fallen into bed. There, Alvarez had taken out all of her frustration and pain, throwing herself into the lovemaking, closing her mind to what might have been and losing herself in the feel, smell and touch of this man.
Did she love him?
Who knew?
That thought had flitted through her mind as his mouth found hers, then trailed a hot path down the column of her throat, but all she really knew was that, with O'Keefe, she felt safe.
From the outside world.
From the inside demons.
She'd fallen asleep nestled in his arms and had awoken with a start and a crook in her neck. As her nightmare had receded and she was brought back to reality, she realized a night of lovemaking hadn't changed the world. No, the earth was still spinning as it had been when she'd fallen asleep and the evil that had pervaded this part of Montana hadn't disappeared in the night. In fact, it had followed her into the night.
Her dreams had been peppered with a faceless killer, a huge, swift monster, chasing her, his breath so cold it formed icicles on the back of her neck, his fingernails long, sharp talons dripping blood. She'd run and run and run, gasping for breath, her legs feeling leaden, her fear palpable. Gabe had been in the dreams, as well, and he'd always been in harm's way, yelling at her that she wasn't his real mother and catching the killer's attention. “No!” she'd cried as the monster had turned his sights on her boy.
She'd woken up with a start and O'Keefe had muttered something from deep in slumberland before turning over, his hair dark against her pillow, his long body stretching the length of the bed.
She climbed out of bed, threw on a robe and slid into a pair of slippers before heading downstairs.
O'Keefe, dead to the world, didn't move, nor did Jane, the turncoat who had curled into a tight ball near his head.
Downstairs, she didn't bother with lights but walked to the sliding doors and looked out at the snowy morning. Daylight hadn't broken and the night was thick, clouds hiding the stars, only the white landscape giving any illumination.
She thought about the victims that they'd located, and those still missing. In her mind's eye, she saw the earring through Lissa Parsons's nipple and the silver stud forced through Lara Sue's tongue. Obviously, the killer was sending a message to her.
What, if anything, did it have to do with her son?
“Who are you, you bastard?” she whispered, her breath fogging on the inside of the glass door. Uneasily, she wondered if, even now, he was standing just outside of her line of vision, hiding in the shadows, watching her. There was some reason he was attached to her, and she thought of those suspects she'd arrested, the most violent of them sent to prison for a very long time.
Or was it someone more personal?
A man she'd spurned?
Someone she'd slighted?
Junior Green was behind bars once more, thankfully, but there were others, perhaps not as vocal with their threats but certainly as deadly.
The skin on the back of her arms pimpled at the thought of the sadistic killers she'd arrested, not just here in Grizzly Falls, but in San Bernardino as well. Alberto De Maestro's face came to mind, the way his thin lips could twist into a superior sneer or the unholy light that would appear in his eyes when he was being questioned and he let his eyes stray a little too long on her neckline.
He was only one.
And there was nothing in his file to suggest he had an artistic bent, a need to express himself by letting his victims die a slow death and encasing them in ice. Alberto was more likely to slit your throat and enjoy your warm blood spilling over his hand as he held the knife.
No, this killer, hiding out there in the frozen night, he was different than De Maestro but just as inherently evil. Probably more so.
And somehow he was linked to her.
She heard a creak in the floorboards overhead and heavy footsteps on the stairs. Before she could turn to greet him, O'Keefe came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She saw his ghostly reflection in the glass, dark hair poking at odd angles, a smile crawling across the scruff covering his jaw. “Mornin',” he drawled against her ear.
“Back atcha.”
“Coffee ready?”
“It is, if you make it.”
He chuckled deep in his throat and she felt a little tingle of anticipation as one of his hands slipped inside her robe to find her breast and the nipple that was already puckering in interest.
“Come back to bed,” he whispered as she leaned her head backward and felt his warm breath against her skin.
“Got a lot to do.”
“It'll wait.”
She was melting inside, and damn it, he could sense her resistance ebbing and she felt his hardness through her robe, pressed insistently against her backside. Erotic images began flitting through her mind. “Look, if you want coffeeâ”
“We can pick it up on the way into the office.”
“Seriously?” she whispered as her knees gave way and, together, they tumbled to the floor.
“Damned straight.”
What was that old expression? “Once burned, twice shy”? Or “once bitten, twice shy”? Didn't matter. Either one applied to him, because O'Keefe had it bad.
For Selena Alvarez.
The woman he'd sworn to avoid, the one who had cost him his job and nearly his life.
Water under the bridge, he thought now as he met with Aggie and her husband at a coffee shop not far from the sheriff's office. The place was crowded, crawling with Christmas shoppers from the mall just across the parking lot. Most of the tables were filled, women seated with packages at their feet, a group of men gathered at a large table, all talking sports, and other tables occupied by people of various ages, all with computers open. They seemed oblivious to the screech of grinding beans, the shouts of baristas when orders were ready or the general noise of a cacophony of battling conversations.
They were seated at a small bistro table in one corner of the coffee shop, near the windows. Outside, snow was beginning to fall again, collecting on the sidewalk, where pedestrians, bundled against the cold, hurried past.
“The FBI?” Aggie whispered across the table, her triple mocha untouched, the whipped cream beginning to run down the sides of her cup. “Why in the world would the FBI want to question Gabe?”
“I can't really say.”
“Off the record,” Dave insisted. A tall man with graying hair, Dave was an ex-college basketball player who'd developed a bit of a paunch after giving up the game, and his dream. His usually animated expression was missing, his glasses sliding down his nose so he could tip his head and stare at O'Keefe over the rims. His coffee was black and simple, and, usually, Dave was a no-nonsense accountant with a quick wit and easy laugh. Today he was dead serious, his expression a reflection of his wife's worried demeanor. Aggie was pale, her makeup already wearing thin, her eyes red from crying.
O'Keefe eyed his cousin. “It's not about the robbery in Helena.”
“He's involved in something else?” Aggie said, her whisper louder than she'd intended as she half stood until her husband clasped his hand over her forearm, and she, realizing she was on the verge of making a scene, fell into her chair again.
“They're just checking out every angle.” O'Keefe hoped he sounded more reassuring than he felt.
“They're here because of the murdered women they found,” Dave said quietly.
“You mean for that ice-mummy case.” Shaking her head, her red hair brushing her chin with the movement, Aggie closed her eyes as if to gather herself. “He's got nothing to do with that. You know that, Dylan. Nothing.” She blinked her eyes open and focused on her husband. “We have to get an attorney, Dave.
Pronto!
We
have
to!”
Pronto!
We
have
to!”
“You saw Gabe, right?” O'Keefe said.
“Yes. But that's about it. âSaw' him. He won't talk to us. It's as if ... as if ...” she squeaked out, “
we're
the enemy.
Us?
When all we've ever tried to do is help him? Oh, my God, this is all so unbelievable and now, Gabe says he's contacted his biological mother.”
we're
the enemy.
Us?
When all we've ever tried to do is help him? Oh, my God, this is all so unbelievable and now, Gabe says he's contacted his biological mother.”
“Looks that way.”
“And you?” she accused. “
You're
involved with her?”
You're
involved with her?”
Bad news traveled fast. “I
know
her. We worked together in San Bernardino.”
know
her. We worked together in San Bernardino.”
“I remember that,” Dave said, his bushy eyebrows pulling together over the thin rims of his glasses. “Seems as if it didn't turn out well.”
“You lost your job!” Aggie reminded him.
“I quit.”
She waved a hand frantically in the air. “Doesn't matter. But I don't want her having any contact with
my
son, okay? That's the deal. It's always been the deal. I ... We don't want or need another parent trying to mess with our kid's emotions.”
my
son, okay? That's the deal. It's always been the deal. I ... We don't want or need another parent trying to mess with our kid's emotions.”
“He searched her out.”
“He's a kid! He obviously doesn't know what he wants or what's best for him. I do
not
want her involved in his life, you got that? As for you, if I were you, I'd watch my step; tread carefully.” Aggie was on a roll now. “But ... we have to think, put things in perspective. Gabe's in serious trouble and we have to help him. We have to hire an attorney and get Gabe out of jail!”
not
want her involved in his life, you got that? As for you, if I were you, I'd watch my step; tread carefully.” Aggie was on a roll now. “But ... we have to think, put things in perspective. Gabe's in serious trouble and we have to help him. We have to hire an attorney and get Gabe out of jail!”
“Maybe detention is the best place for him,” her husband offered up before taking a long swallow from his coffee. “At least he's safe there and we know where he is.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Aggie demanded, her voice rising again. She stared at her husband as if he'd turned into an alien from outer space. “Come on, Dave! That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard yet.”
“Shh!” he snapped and Aggie, rebuffed, glanced around as if realizing she might be overheard.
Fortunately, no one was paying the least bit of attention to them.
“Do you know the press have been calling us?” she asked O'Keefe. “They know Gabe's identity even though they're supposed to not report it and so I've been getting calls. They know he was arrested at Detective Alvarez's home; well how could they not when a whole cavalry of cops showed up, huh? They'll start digging, tying Gabe to this new series of crimes by the Ice Mummy Killer, just you wait, and then his life will be a living hell. Ours, too. And even that Selena Alvarez when they figure out she's his birth mother!”
“That hasn't been established.”
“Yet. But a reporter's already on the story. Some guy called my cell phone. My cell, for God's sake, and he started asking about the adoption. That was two days ago. By now it could be all over the Internet! God, this is a nightmare!” She finally picked up her drink and licked the whipped cream from the cup's sides as she stared at her cousin. “You just wait! Things are only going to get worse. A whole lot worse.” She took a swallow of her drink, then said to her husband, “We're getting a lawyer ASAP. I don't care what it costs. And, Dylan, send us your bill. You found Gabe, we've got him ... sort of, but your job is over.”
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