Mac also suspected that Pierce wanted him in on this for reasons of his own that had nothing to do with Shane. Shane was just a means to an end. And that made Mac worry he was already in over his head.
Leaning back, he stared up at the stars and knew this restlessness he felt had little to do with Pierce or Shane. As
a breeze washed over the bare skin of his chest, he found himself drowning in memories of the woman from the cottage. He breathed in the night, the cool, damp scent of the lake. Closing his eyes, he was engulfed by the darkness and the feel of her. Jill Lawson.
Seeing her was out of the question. But he could no more forget her than he could the image of his nephew and Trevor Forester in ski masks on a grainy black-and-white videotape.
Pleasure and pain. He opened his eyes. A moment of weakness, he thought with a curse as he went inside the houseboat for his shirt, shoes and weapon. There was no turning back now.
AFTER THE DEPUTIES left, Jill locked up the front door and walked through the bakery to the rear of the building and the inside stairs that led up to the apartment.
With her fathers encouragement and some money her grandmother had left her, shed bought the two-story brick building right out of college and started her bakery, The Best Buns in Town. Gram Lawson was the one who got Jill hooked on baking in the first place. Grandpa had always said Gram made the best cinnamon buns in town.
From the time Jill was a child, she remembered Grams house smelling of flour and yeast. She loved that smell. Especially tonight as she walked past the now-silent equipment, the sparkling kitchen. The mere sight grounded her and gave her strength.
As she started up the narrow back stairs, she felt a draft and looked up. Her breath caught. The door to her apartment was standing open. She always kept that door closed and locked when she was gone.
She froze, heart pounding, and strained to listen. She heard nothing but silence overhead. Maybe shed left the door open earlier. Shed been so upset about Trevor not picking her up on time
Slowly, she climbed the stairs, all the horror of the night making her jumpy. Her head still ached from where shed been hit and she felt sick to her stomach when she thought about Trevor. Hed been her first. The only man shed ever been intimate withuntil tonight. Dead. Murdered.
At the top of the stairs she stopped and listened again. Silence. Cautiously, she reached through the open doorway and flicked on the light, illuminating the small kitchen and breakfast nook. Beyond it to the left was the living room.
She blinked in disbelief and horror, a small cry of alarm escaping her lips. Her apartment had been ransackedjust as Trevors had.
She heard a floorboard groan in the direction of the pantry. She started to turn, and then she saw him. A man wearing a black ski mask. She screamed as he grabbed her, but the sound was cut off by his gloved hand clamping over her mouth.
He slammed her against the wall, knocking her breath from her lungs, and struggled to pull a wadded-up rag from his pocket. She fought him, but he was too strong for her.
Where is it? he demanded, removing his hand from her mouth.
She tried to scream, but he quickly stuffed the nasty-tasting rag in her mouth, pinned her hands to her sides and flattened her body against the wall with his own. She couldnt breathe! Couldnt scream! He was going to kill her. Or worse.
Where is it, bitch? the hoarse voice demanded. Wheres the damned ring?
The ring? She felt him pull hard on the silver charm bracelet at her wrist, felt pain tear down her arm. She struggled to get one leg free of his body and brought it up hard into his groin.
He let out a howl of pain, then reared back and hit her in the side of the face. As she slid to the floor, she heard him stumbling down the stairs and out of the building.
AS FAR AS YOU CAN TELL nothing seems to be missing? Deputy Rex Duncan inquired. Duncan had done a thorough search of the apartment while Samuelson had gone down to the bakery to make sure no one was in the building.
Jill felt numb as she shook her head. She sat in one of her overstuffed chairs watching the deputy as he looked around the room. The paramedics had left, after telling her how lucky she was. She just had a cut on her forehead, a small abrasion on her cheek where shed been hit and a scrape on her wrist. Neither blow tonight had been life-threatening. Nor was anything broken. No concussion. Just a headache from the first blow and a bruise to go with the other one.
No signs of forced entry, Samuelson said as he came up the steps and joined them in the living room.
Jill saw the two exchange a look. What does that mean?
Is it possible you forgot to lock a door? Duncan asked.
No. They were all locked when I left for the party.
Samuelson was eyeing her again as if she was lying. Unless you left the door open or the guy had a key.
Who has a key to your apartment? Duncan asked.
My father andTrevor had one.
There were
no keys on him other than the boat key when he was found, Duncan said.