Killing Me Softly

“So, whether this is him or a copycat, he won’t be raping them, either. Right? So why expect to find his—”

Bryan held up a hand to stop her words. But Rico was nodding hard. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s right. I said the same thing to the chief not two hours ago, but damn, it’s like talking to a brick wall.” He sighed, sounding angry. “I figured you’d need time to decide how to make bail. Listen, man, I got a few grand stashed away, if you need it.”

“Thanks.” Bryan put a hand on his shoulder, lowering his own head. “For the warning and the offer. But mostly for believing me. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Rico nodded. “De nada, partner. Good to finally meet you, Dawn.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Rico,” she said. And then Rico turned and headed back toward the house.

Dawn turned to blink up into Bryan’s eyes. Hers were wet, but she hoped he wouldn’t see that in the growing darkness. “They’re going to arrest you.”

“I’ll make bail. And we’ll find out who did this and—”

“Maybe…maybe I can help,” she told him. “Really help, I mean.”

Bryan seemed blank only for a moment; then he apparently got what she was saying and shook his head, backing away a step as he did. “You mean…you mean by trying to revive the ability you’ve spent the past five years trying to get rid of? No. No way, Dawn.”

“Just listen. How better to find out who killed Bette than to ask her? And who else are you going to get to do that for you?”

He continued shaking his head. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” he demanded. “You’ve been hiding out from this gift you call a curse for five years. You threw away everything we had because of it. Now you’re just going to welcome it back with open arms?”

“To save you from life in prison? Yeah, Bry, with open arms. Wide open.”

He pushed a hand through his hair and tipped his head up toward the glittering stars above them. “You left home over this,” he said. Then he lowered his head and stabbed her eyes with his. “You left me over this.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. We’re not going to waste our time and attention on what’s gone by, Bryan. There’s nothing we can do about it, anyway. It’s in the past. We need to focus on finding out who murdered that poor girl.”

“It’s not in the past. Not for me. You destroyed me, Dawn.” He drew a breath, still holding her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, not liking what she saw in his eyes just then. Anger. Unexpressed until now, so it had festered. She’d really ruined things with him, and done it in spades. She hadn’t left any room to fix it now.

So she decided to change the topic, because that one hurt too badly to think about. “You still haven’t told me why you were going through all those files on the Nightcap Strangler case. Are you going to?”

“Yeah, but you can’t tell Nick.”

She nodded, but she thought she already knew. “You were beginning to suspect that he’d arrested the wrong man, weren’t you, Bryan? And I’ll bet the real killer found out somehow, was afraid you were going to catch him and killed Bette to distract you—or maybe even to frame you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

He held her eyes a moment longer, then smiled a little, all that pent-up anger seeming to dissipate as his gaze roamed her face. “You’re still some kind of aspiring Nancy Drew, aren’t you, Dawn?”

“I’m too old to be Nancy Drew.” Then she shrugged. “But yeah, I guess I am still into the crime-solving thing. I just didn’t realize it until I got here. You have to admit we were good at it. Helped save our friend from a homicidal headcase before we were out of our teens. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No, Nancy. You’re dead wrong. It was a great theory, though.”

She frowned hard, not sure she’d heard him right.

“The thing is, Nick is getting an award next month—a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Vermont Association of Law Enforcement. And it’s a big deal. They asked me to present it at their annual convention, and part of that involves putting together a speech. You know, the highlights of his career and all that.”

She felt her brows push against each other. “That’s why you were going over the files?”

“It’s the case that made him famous. I was going to do this whole multimedia presentation. Big screen behind me, featuring the cover from his book, maybe a clip from the movie they made out of it. De Niro played him, you know.”

“Everyone knows.”

“The thing is, I had to sneak the hard copies of the files out of the department’s records room. Some of the boxed evidence, too. I didn’t sign them out, the way we’re supposed to, because I didn’t want anyone to know. And if I’d accessed them electronically, I’d have had to log in, and that would have left a trail for sure.”

“You risked your career to present an award?”

“Hell, no,” he said. Then he tipped his head back again as if searching the night sky for assistance. The crickets kept chirping, and the stars kept twinkling, but neither of them offered him any help. “It wasn’t risking my career. It was a little sneaky, but it’s an old closed case, and if I got caught and explained my reasons to the chief, he’d have let it go and played along.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell him in the first place?”

“Because the committee was adamant that no one can know. That’s the way this award is always given out—no one knows who will get it before the big night. It’s as closely guarded a secret as the Oscar winners are. I even had to sign a confidentiality agreement.”

She nodded. “So then does anyone know you took the files?”

“Only you. Beth and Josh will know before the night’s out,” he said. “I have to tell them.”

“Had you returned the files yet, before all this happened?”

“No. The night I took them, I gave Nick a ride home—his car wouldn’t start. I didn’t even know he was coming in that day. He’s retired from the force, but he still pops in. I was still on suspension—had to make up an excuse to go in at all. But that’s beside the point. The point is, I wasn’t expecting to see him, much less have him in my car. I ended up sticking everything inside a picnic cooler I’d left in the trunk of the Mustang, so he wouldn’t see it.”

She closed her eyes, thinking he couldn’t look more guilty without actually trying. “Where’s everything now?”

“Stashed in my garage.” He sighed. “The police are still going over the house, but they’ll get to the garage soon enough, and when they find those files…” He lowered his head and shook it slowly.

“It’s going to look bad,” she admitted.

“Yeah.” He looked up at her again. “I don’t want Nick to know about this award if he doesn’t have to, Dawn. It’s supposed to be hush-hush until the night of the ceremony. It’s a big deal.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that clear. But so’s your life.”

“If I have to reveal why I did it to get out of this mess, I will. Believe me. If they find those files in my garage—or if they go looking for them for background information on the current investigation and can’t find them—I’ll explain myself. But not until and unless I have to. Okay?”

“Okay.” She looked into his eyes, felt a little rush of something very familiar, and didn’t have the will to censor herself. “We’re gonna solve this thing, you know. You and me. Just like old times.”

“Maybe not quite like old times,” he said softly.

For a second the tension pulled tight between them. And then, to break it, she took his hand and began pulling him along the path behind her, back toward the inn.

“Where are we going?”

“To the inn, to get your car.”

“To go where?” he asked.

“To Shadow Falls. You’re taking me to your house.”

He stopped, using his weight to stay put, despite her tugging. “My house is currently cordoned off with crime-scene tape. And for all we know, there are cops there even as we speak.”