Manhunt Page 7

  “I promise I won’t keep you long.”

  “Sure,” he agreed. He sat with one hip on the table and looked at Nick expectantly.

  Nick waited until the others had left the room, then faced Clay. “I know about Alyssa’s visions,” he said without preamble.

  Clay’s dark eyes radiated no emotion. “She told you?” he asked.

  Nick nodded. “Last night. I was just wondering what your take on it was.”

  “You mean, do I believe that Alyssa has psychic visions that foretell the future?” Clay frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure what I think about Alyssa’s visions. I will tell you this, I know there are times she sees things, knows things that have no other rationalization.”

  He moved from the top of the table to the chair facing Nick’s. “I don’t know how much of the story you’ve heard, but a couple of months ago our friendly banker broke into my parents’ house, hit my father over the head, drugged my mother and carried her out to his car in her bedspread. He came back inside, put a new bedspread on the bed in the exact style and pattern, packed a suitcase full of her clothes and personal items, then left.”

  Although Nick had heard that Clay’s mother had been kidnapped, he hadn’t heard the details of the case. “So, the friendly banker wanted it to look as if your mother hit your father, then packed up and fled.”

  “Exactly. Meanwhile, while my mother was missing, Alyssa kept having visions of her sitting in her bed. At the time she told me about the vision, I dismissed it. We all knew Mom wasn’t in her own bed in her bedroom. She was gone.”

  Nick looked at Clay expectantly. He knew there was a reason Clay was telling him all this and he waited patiently to find out what it was.

  “We found Mom in a basement decorated to look exactly like her bedroom. Alyssa’s vision that made no sense before we found Mom suddenly made complete sense after we found her.” Clay sighed. “I can give you a dozen times when Alyssa’s visions have been right on the money. I can also give you a dozen times when what she saw never came to pass. I’ll tell you this…I’m a big enough believer that I never discount what she sees, but I take it all with a tiny grain of salt.”

  Nick nodded. “Thanks, Clay. I just wanted to get your input. Now, get home to that beautiful wife of yours.”

  “See you tomorrow,” Clay said.

  Nick watched him leave the room, fighting the impulse to call him back and ask him more questions about Alyssa. But the questions he wanted answered had little to do with her visions and more to do with the private areas of her life.

  All day long she’d been in his thoughts. It had been impossible for him to dismiss from his mind the taste of her lips, the acquiescence in her response for just a moment.

  And it had been impossible for him to forget that moment when she’d violently jerked away from him. What he’d seen in her eyes hadn’t been revulsion or disapproval about the kiss.

  What he had seen in those lovely, dark eyes of hers had been fear…sheer terror, and he wondered what she hadn’t told him.

  But he hadn’t seen her that morning. He’d gotten up later than usual and had headed directly to the station.

  He packed up his briefcase and left the police station. His plan was to linger over dinner at Ruby’s until it was almost time for Alyssa to close down the ice-cream parlor, then he intended to ask her about the kiss and about her unusual response.

  Dinner at Ruby’s was a meat-loaf special and Ruby’s company as he lingered over coffee. The big woman sat next to him, nearly overpowering him with her overly sweet scent, but he found her friendly smile and dancing eyes charming.

  “I heard a rumor that you were seen out at Clay’s wedding as Alyssa’s date,” she said.

  Nick smiled. “Alyssa would reject the term date. Clay asked her to escort me to the wedding and she reluctantly agreed.”

  Ruby shook her head. “Don’t know what’s wrong with that girl. If I was escorting you anywhere, I’d shout it to the world that it was a hot date, and I’d make damn sure it was a hot date!”

  Nick laughed. “I get the feeling Alyssa has no interest in hot dates.”

  “That girl spends all her time taking care of strangers and never takes care of herself. That place of hers is eating her alive and she doesn’t even realize it. I’ve offered half a dozen times to buy her out.” Ruby’s eyes twinkled. “I figured I could tell guests that the place was originally my great-grandmother’s bordello. The place would be packed year-round.”

  Nick grinned. “Ah, not only does the heart of a romantic beat in your chest, but also the heart of a true businesswoman.”

  “That’s me.” Ruby studied him for a long moment. “I know you’re only in town for as long as it takes to catch the creep that’s killing men around here, but it wouldn’t hurt if you’d take that time and be a little nice to Alyssa. She’s a good woman who isn’t always treated nice.”

  “You mean because of her visions?”

  “Ah, so you know the truth about her. She has the gift of the sight, but there are some dumb folks around here who don’t see it as a gift, they don’t understand that Alyssa is special.”

  Nick knew she was special, but it had little to do with her visions. The moment he’d tasted her lips, he’d known she was special. She’d stirred him to life again when he’d believed nobody would ever be able to do that again.

  “You’re a wise woman, Ruby,” he replied. “And I think it’s time I get across the way and settle in for the night.” He looked at his watch. It was eight-thirty and he knew Alyssa shut down the ice-cream shop at nine.

  Talking about her, thinking about that all-too-brief kiss they had shared made him want to be with her…to just sit and watch as she finished up her nightly duties.

  He rose from the table, as did Ruby. “As usual, another wonderful meal,” he said as they approached the cash register.

  “You’re easy to please,” Ruby replied as she took his money. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow night.” She handed him his change.

  He nodded. “Good night Ruby.”

  The night air was hot and dry. He yanked off the tie he’d worn that morning and shoved it into his slacks pocket, then opened the top two buttons of his short-sleeved white shirt.

  Instead of walking around the center square, he cut through the parklike setting. Was it here, in the darkness of the large trees and on shadowy park benches, that the murderer met his victims, then lured them to the public areas where they would be killed and left on display?

  He couldn’t seem to get a handle on the killer. He couldn’t figure out why those particular victims, how the perp got the victims to their death places and why the victims were stripped naked.

  Just ahead, the lights of the ice-cream parlor pierced through the purple twilight of coming night. At the moment, it seemed more important that he get a handle on Alyssa and find out why a kiss from him had stirred such terror in her.

  Chapter 6

  The bell tinkled above the door and even with her back to it, Alyssa knew it was Nick who had entered. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did.

  When she turned around he was headed toward the counter, his eyes gleaming with intent that bode ill for her. “We need to talk,” he said as he slid onto a stool.

  She didn’t even attempt to pretend she didn’t know what he’d want to talk to her about. “I’ve got customers,” she replied, grateful that there were two families still seated at tables.

  “I’ll wait. Why don’t you get me one of those brownie delights while I’m waiting.”

  She turned and began to make the dessert for him, trying to slow her heartbeat, which had begun to race from the moment she saw him.

  She’d been grateful that morning when he hadn’t appeared in the kitchen or dining room. She hadn’t wanted to face him, she hadn’t been ready to face him.

  The night had been spent tossing and turning, playing and replaying that kiss that had touched her lips, but had warmed her to her soul. Along with th
e memory of the kiss had been the tortured thoughts of the vision.

  As the day had gone on, it had become more and more difficult for her to separate the two, the sheer pleasure of the kiss and the utter horror of the vision.

  She finished making the brownie delight and turned back to serve him. She didn’t want to have the conversation she suspected he intended to have with her. She’d rather just forget the kiss altogether.

  “You look tired,” he said.

  “I am.” She grabbed a damp dishcloth and wiped down the counter.

  “Ruby told me she thinks this place is eating you alive.”

  She smiled. “Ruby is a sweetheart and she would love for me to sell to her.”

  “She mentioned that, said she’d advertise it as her great-grandmother’s brothel and it would be full to capacity year-round.”

  Despite her desire to be cool and aloof, Alyssa couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s Ruby…always looking at the bottom line.”

  “What’s her story anyway?” Nick dived into his ice cream with a spoon. “She ever been married?”

  Alyssa felt herself relaxing somewhat. At least he wasn’t asking her about last night. “Rumor has it that years ago Ruby was dating a wealthy young man from Texas. She was madly in love with him, thought they were serious until he officially became engaged to some Texas socialite. It broke her heart and she decided she’d make sure she never needed a man in her life again. It was at that time Ruby set out to be the most successful entrepreneur in the state of Oklahoma.”

  “Has she succeeded?” Nick licked his spoon and Alyssa remembered the flick of his tongue against hers. She turned to rinse out her dishcloth, giving herself a moment to erase the sensation from her mind.

  “I don’t know about the entire state of Oklahoma, but rumor has it that Ruby is the second wealthiest person in Cherokee Corners. She owns a lot of land and has interest in half the businesses around the square. I’d say she’s done quite well for herself.” She turned back to face him as one of the families left the parlor, leaving only one other group between herself and a more serious conversation with Nick.

  “I’ve heard it’s a woman thing…the idea that the best revenge for a broken heart is being successful or marrying successfully.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a broken heart,” she replied. As soon as she said it, she realized what a sad commentary it was on her life…that she had reached the ripe old age of twenty-nine and had never had her heart broken.

  “Really?” A dark eyebrow lifted upward as he gazed at her in surprise. “I thought everyone had a heartbreak or two beneath their belts.”

  “Not me.” She wanted to grab her dishcloth again, find something to do instead of stand in front of him with his curiosity lighting his eyes. “My heart has had a few bumps and bruises, but nothing so devastating as total heartbreak.”

  She watched as the last group of customers left the shop. Somehow she knew the conversation was going to get tougher. “I don’t know what you want to discuss with me, but I’m going to be a few minutes here closing up. Maybe we could talk in the morning.” If she could put him off until morning, then she knew she could probably get out of the conversation altogether.

  “I don’t mind waiting. In fact, I can help.” He got off the stool and walked to the front door. He turned the Open sign to Closed, then locked the door.

  She sighed in defeat. “The best way you can help is just stay out of my way and let me take care of things.” Her stomach muscles clenched as she cleaned up the last of the dishes in the large sink, turned off a variety of machines and cleaned off the tables.

  As she worked, Nick stood silently watching her, and her tension grew to mammoth proportions. She’d hoped they wouldn’t have to talk about the kiss and her violent reaction to it. She’d hoped he’d just write her off as a frigid, uptight woman who didn’t like kisses.

  But she should have known better, especially since she’d shared with him the fact that she had visions. There was no way to avoid answering the questions he’d have for her. She just needed to come up with some logical answers rather than telling him about the vision that frightened her more than all others.

  Finally, there was nothing left for her to do…nothing but turn and face Nick. “Nick, if this is about last night…about kissing me—” She flushed and broke off.

  “Can we go someplace else to talk?” he asked. “Someplace where I don’t feel like the whole town is watching us.” He gestured toward the windows. With the night-lights on inside the store and the darkness outside the window, she knew he was right. Anyone standing outside would be able to see them easily.

  “You want to come up to my room?” he asked.

  “No! No, we’ll go to my room.” In all her visions they were making love in the blue bedroom. That was the very last place she wanted to go with him.

  She unlocked her door and opened it wide to allow him into her private quarters. The living area was small, with a kitchenette along one wall. The doors to the tiny bedroom and the bathroom were closed.

  “Please, sit down.” She gestured him toward the beige sofa decorated with colorful throw pillows. “Would you like a cup of tea? I’m making a cup for myself. Or maybe a soda or something?”

  “Sure, tea sounds good.” He sat on the sofa and she went to the stove and put water on to boil, her nerves still knotted up in her stomach.

  “I’ve got chamomile, lemon, lavender or regular.”

  “I like my coffee to taste like coffee and my tea to taste like tea. Regular, please.”

  As she waited for the water to boil, she watched Nick get up from the sofa and walk over to a bookshelf where she had books and knickknacks and intricate woven baskets.

  “These are beautiful,” he said, indicating one of the baskets with a colorful design woven into the sides.

  “Thanks. My grandmother made them,” she said. “She was a master at weaving. She supported herself by selling the baskets around the country. She tried to teach me, but I was always too fumble-fingered.”

  “I’m sure it takes a special skill to do work this beautiful,” he replied.

  She finished fixing the tea and carried the two cups and cream and sugar on a tray to the coffee table. He joined her and they both sat on the sofa.

  “Dorrie was into Indian art, pottery and baskets…stuff like that. She got interested in it when we moved from Chicago to Oklahoma.”

  Alyssa was surprised by how easily he spoke of his murdered wife…as if he’d made peace with his loss. “Tell me more about her,” she said softly. “How did you meet?”

  “Mutual friends. It was a kind of blind-date thing. I didn’t want to go and later I found out that she didn’t want to go, either.” The blue of his eyes was soft with pleasant memories and he set his cup of tea on the tray and leaned back against the colorful pillows.

  “The moment I met her I couldn’t understand why somebody hadn’t already snapped her up. She was beautiful, bright and funny. She worked as an E.R. nurse, so she understood the meaning of stress, and at the time that I met her I was definitely under stress.”

  His eyes darkened to the deep blue of fiery gas flames. He drew a deep breath and sat forward to pick up his cup of tea once again. He took a sip, then another as Alyssa struggled to find something to say.

  But apparently he refused to go the direction his thoughts were attempting to take him, a place that had caused the deepening, troubling hue of his eyes.

  “You know, I’ve never really understood why people who lose spouses often swear off the entire institution of marriage,” he said.

  “Maybe if they had a really bad marriage they don’t want to take the chance of repeating it,” Alyssa replied. “They’re afraid of trying once again.”

  “In this day and age if you have a really bad marriage you don’t have to wait for a spouse to die to get out of it.”

  She nodded. “True, but maybe if you have a really great marriage and lose your spouse, you’re a
fraid you’ll never experience the same thing again.”

  “You won’t experience the exact same thing,” he agreed easily. “Different women, different relationships, but that doesn’t mean a second marriage can’t be just as wonderful as the first.”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing a man extol the virtues of marriage,” she said teasingly.

  His gaze warmed her as he smiled, that sexy half smile that evoked a seductive wave of pleasure inside her. “I loved Dorrie, but in the time we had together I also realized I loved being married.”

  He took another sip of his tea then continued, “I liked being half of a whole, fighting over the last piece of pie, compromising on important issues. I liked having the same person in bed with me night after night, sharing every part of myself, both physically and emotionally with another. So, what scared you last night when I kissed you?”

  Alyssa had been lulled by the conversation, and the abruptness of his question caught her completely unprepared even though she’d known eventually it would come up.

  She broke eye contact with him and stared at her cup, still sitting on the tray. “I wasn’t scared…I just didn’t like your kiss.” She reached a hand up to grasp the ends of a strand of her hair.

  “Alyssa…” His voice was soft, almost cajoling, and she looked up to meet his soft blue gaze once again. “I’m a specially trained FBI agent. That means I have a sort of built-in lie detector. It wasn’t revulsion or disgust that I saw in your eyes when you ran away from me last night. It was fear…terror, and I want to know what’s going on.”

  He reached out and took the strand of her hair from her fingers. “Talk to me, Alyssa.”

  For the first time, she realized she had to tell him. She’d thought that by not speaking of it at all, she’d somehow keep the vision from coming true. She now realized that knowledge meant power. If he knew about the vision, then he could be an active participant in making sure that it didn’t come true.