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“I said I’m sorry.”
“And I forgive you.” His scowl transformed into a smile. “Does this mean you love me?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but hesitated. She’d loved Easy Martel, passionately, desperately, painfully, joyfully. One of his smiles could leave her floating on air all day long. His touch had set her on fire. She’d placed her heart at his feet and invited him, without reservations, to do with it what he would.
That was a long, long time ago.
With Jeffrey there was no pain, but no mindless joy either. She enjoyed talking to him, but the sound of his voice didn’t set her heart racing. When she imagined a life with him, her visions made practical sense. Jeffrey could do repairs on the house and maintain the cars. He could give her financial advice. She could make sure his laundry was done and he ate properly. They’d keep each other company and make babies. He seemed very safe. Very sensible.
“Yes, I love you, Jeffrey.”
His smile rivaled the sun. He caught her shoulders and planted an exuberant kiss on her lips. “You’ll marry me? Say yes, Catherine. Say yes or I’ll die right here as we speak.”
“Wait a minute! Wait!” She struggled out of his em-brace and half turned to put her back to him. From inside her damp sports bra she worked loose a chain where she carried the engagement ring. The sapphire and diamonds flashed and sparkled with cold fire. She pulled the chain over her head and unfastened the clasp, freeing the ring. For a long moment she stared at the shiny piece of jewelry. Once she committed, there was no turning back. She closed her eyes and envisioned a yard full of laughing children. She handed him the ring.
She offered him her left hand, her fingers extended.
With great solemnity, he slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. “So when are we getting married? Tomorrow?”
She hopped off the table. “No quickies.” She waved her left hand slowly, admiring the beautiful ring. “I want plenty of time to savor my status as a fiancée.” She pointed at the gazebo perched on a rock pile that jutted into the lake. “We’re doing this right. I want to get married there.”
His features tightened. “In the park? Like hippies?”
His reaction dismayed her, but she quickly recovered. He was a special guy, but still a guy, and she doubted if wedding plans interested him in the least. “It’ll be beautiful, and dignified.”
He loosed a martyred sigh. “Let’s run off to Vegas. We don’t need a dog and pony show.”
“I only intend to get married once. I’m not doing it in a cheesy chapel officiated by an Elvis impersonator. We’ll have a proper wedding. If you really object to holding it outdoors, then we’ll do it in church.”
“Whatever you want,” he grumbled.
She poked his chin playfully. “Countless men have survived weddings. You will, too.” She laughed, whirling in a dreamy circle. Oscar and Bent leaped to their feet and posed ready to run. She ruffled their floppy ears. She did love Jeffrey and this was the right decision and they’d live happily ever after—
She spotted Easy Martel.
She stopped so quickly, she stumbled and stared open-mouthed toward the other, smaller lake. Only Easy’s head was visible, his hair as black and glossy as the wings of crows flying overhead. He wore dark sunglasses, but she knew. He spied on her!
She confessed her youthful indiscretion to her fiancé, and then lo and behold, there’s the daddy. Easy’s timing couldn’t be more appalling.
“Catherine?”
“I have to get home. Oscar, Bent, come.” The dogs crowded her legs and she gathered their leashes.
Jeffrey put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “What in the world is wrong with you?”
She sneaked a peek toward Easy. He’d ducked out of sight. The Front Range, encompassing Colorado Springs, stretching from Fountain to the far south and Monument to the north, covered an area more than forty miles long. In the eight months she’d been living here, she hadn’t run into a single person she knew from her childhood. That Easy Martel chose this particular day to be in Fox Run Park was not a coincidence.
“Nothing, nothing,” she said weakly. “I have a million things to do.”
He glowered at his wristwatch. “I cancelled two appointments to run with you this morning. Don’t jerk me around.”
She scuffed her running shoe through a pile of pine straw. “See what happens when I get frazzled? I turn into a flaky artist.” She fished in her fanny pack for her Blazer keys. She tossed them to him. “You drive.”
He eyed her suspiciously, but acted amiably enough as she herded him and the dogs to her Blazer parked above the lake. She began to wonder if she’d conjured Easy out of her guilty conscience.
By the time they reached the park entrance, she convinced herself she hadn’t seen Easy. When she adjusted the air-conditioner vent to blow on her hot face, she noticed in the side mirror a white car pulling out of the park behind them. She thought little of it until they reached Roller Coaster Road and turned right, and the car turned right behind them. The car continued following them south, all the way to Shoup Road where she felt certain it would continue toward the Springs, but it turned after them.
“You haven’t heard a word I said,” Jeffrey complained.
“What?” She clenched her hands on her lap, resisting the urge to turn on the seat to see better the driver behind them. She hadn’t a clue as to why Easy had appeared on her doorstep last week, as she hadn’t a clue as to why he followed her now. A sinking sensation, however, said telling him about the baby they’d made twelve years ago had been a major mistake. He’d been a quick-tempered, impulsive boy with far more energy than good sense. For all she knew, he hadn’t changed. She wouldn’t put it past him to pester her until she told him what happened to Elizabeth.
“What is the matter with you, Catherine?”
She should tell him about Easy. After all, it had been Easy’s surprise visit which had clinched her decision to marry Jeffrey. As her official fiancé, Jeffrey had a right to know about any unresolved issues from her past.
He slowed to turn into her driveway. The white car slowed behind them. Anger boiled up like bubbling soup, infusing her blood, tightening her jaw.
“Don’t talk to me then.” Jeffrey turned the wheel sharply. In the back seat, Oscar and Bent lost their balance. Jeffrey managed to hit every pothole and rut in the driveway. The dogs bounced around, unable to get their feet under them. Bent fell onto the floor.
“Quit driving like a maniac!” Catherine yelled.
He slammed on the brakes and gawked at her.
She covered her mouth with a hand. The dogs grumbled as they rearranged themselves in the back seat. She stared at the side mirror, expecting to see Easy pull in behind them. Clouds of dust hovered like haze over the driveway.
“You were happy and practically singing, then all the sudden you’re acting like a lunatic. You won’t talk to me, then you’re yelling. Is it hormones or something?”
His sexist comment earned him a dark glower.
He drove forward. “I will not have you yelling at me.”
Tell him, she urged herself, but could not find the words. “I guess my nerves are…I don’t know…I’m sorry, okay? Please forgive me.”
He pulled into the garage and shut off the Blazer’s engine.
“I’m so sorry. I desperately need a shower and a cup of coffee and a chance to pull myself together.” She pushed open the door and went around to the side door to let the dogs out. They gave Jeffrey canine equivalents of filthy looks before hopping out of the Blazer and stalking toward the house.
“You can’t treat me like this.”
For a moment he sounded so much like her father—cold and authoritarian—she froze, her mind gone blank. Ridiculous, she told herself. Jeffrey was nothing like her father.
She forced a smile and used her left hand to smooth hair off her face, exaggerating her movements so he noticed the engagement ring. With no sign of Easy or even the sound of a car engine, her agitation faded. Maybe she’d dreamed him up after all. “You’re wonderful and perfect and I do love you.”
He held out her car keys. When she opened her hand, he dropped them onto her palm. “And you’re nuts, lady. What am I going to do with you?” His voice was calm, but lines strained his brow and cheeks.
Catherine swallowed hard. His quiet fury frightened her in a way she couldn’t quite define. “I’m so sorry. Please say you forgive me and kiss me?”
He caught her shoulders in both hands and kissed her.
EASY RAN THROUGH his repertoire of dirty words—after spending four years as a military policeman, he knew plenty. None served to describe how he felt watching Catherine St. Clair kiss a killer.
He crouched at the base of a towering ponderosa pine, and peered through the thick foliage of a scrub oak. He watched Livman grasp Catherine’s shoulders and pull her close. She slid her arms around his waist and her right foot raised until only the toe of her running shoe rested on the ground. Intimate, familiar, comfortable—the sight turned Easy’s stomach.
Catherine patted Livman’s cheek and said something that caused the man to laugh. Easy tensed, wondering if they’d go inside now. Perhaps to shower together, to…
Catherine hopped lightly onto the deck. She wore satin running shorts, electric blue under the sun. Her ponytail bounced around her shoulders. Livman strode to a black BMW parked in the shade of the house. She waved and went inside.
Easy watched Livman guide the BMW carefully around potholes. Livman’s face was taut, angry-looking as he drove past. Easy waited until he was sure the man wasn’t coming back.
Catherine had spotted Easy at the park. That much he knew for certain. What he did not know was if she’d told Livman. And if she had, what she’d told him. Easy considered how she might react when he told her why he’d been tailing them. He suspected she wouldn’t clasp her hands and say, “My goodness, Jeffrey is a killer? Thank you for telling me. I’ll break up with him right away.”
He hefted the envelope he carried. The man was a creep. Other than his mother, few people seemed to like him. Some people acted afraid of him. Former employers all had the same thing to say: Livman talked a good line and had a gift for salesmanship, but he was unethical, dishonest and lazy. He didn’t get along with men, but actively cultivated relationships with women. Livman had been arrested twice, both times for beating girlfriends. Both times, the women dropped the charges.
Catherine could blow this investigation with a single phone call. Easy walked a fine line between protecting her and catching Livman.
The way they’d been kissing decided him. Livman moved fast; Easy had to move faster. He walked up to the house. Guessing she might slam the door in his face, he prepared himself for her anger. He rang the bell.
Catherine surprised him with a smile. A cold smile, true, but it beat having her yell at him. “Are you a stalker? Do I need to get a restraining order against you?”
She hadn’t lost her sense of humor. Her attitude gave him hope. “I’m not stalking you.”
“I see. You just happened to be at the park, and you just happened to follow me home. Coincidence?”
“No coincidence. I was tailing you.”
She laughed softly and swung her head side to side, so her pony tail curled like a lover’s hand around her slender neck. Her laughter pierced his heart, drumming up old emotions. Impulsively, he touched his fingertips to her cheek. He knew his mistake as soon as he felt warm silky skin and her eyes widened. She jerked her head away. She clamped her arms over her breasts, her shoulders hunched.
He crammed his hand in his back pocket “Can I have five minutes of your time? Please?” He turned on his most winning smile. “It’s important.”
Her eyes narrowed and she backed a step into the house. He seized upon what most courts would interpret as an invitation and walked inside. She huffed about his trespass, but didn’t throw him out. His hope flourished. At age sixteen she’d been different from any other girl he knew. Now a grown woman, perhaps she’d prove different than most women when presented with distressing news about a boyfriend.
The skinny dogs hopped off a sofa, ears pricked and eyes suspicious. The slightly larger brown-and-white male raised his hackles. Keeping a wary eye on the dogs, Easy paused by the door.
Catherine sized up her escape routes. Easy blocked the door, but she could reach the sliding glass doors in the adjoining wall, or make it down the stairs. She didn’t sense anything dangerous about him. While they dated he’d always been gentle with her, but a man could change in twelve years.
“I brought something for you.” He held up a white, nine-by-twelve-inch envelope.
Her mouth felt sticky. She’d seen the recent news stories about adoptions gone sour. Courts were favoring parental rights over the rights of children. She’d erred twelve years ago in not telling Easy about the child. She’d lied on the birth certificate about not knowing the father’s name. If he pressed the issue by taking her to court, he could learn what happened to Elizabeth. Or worse, he could fight for custody. Whether or not he successfully contested the adoption was moot. No matter what happened, he would destroy Elizabeth’s life.
He approached. She forced herself to stand fast. She tried not to notice his graceful, loose-hipped walk. She tried not to notice her own pounding heart. “The past is history, Easy. I did the right thing for our baby. Let it rest. Please.”
Her reference to his lost child stabbed through his heart. He clutched the envelope so tightly that paper crunched. He wanted to know what had happened to his daughter. He needed to know. He realized it with a certainty that infused his very bones and laid bare the massive hole in his life created when he lost Catherine.
“Even if you had known, it wouldn’t have made any difference.” Her eyes went soft and pleading. “We were too young to get married and too young to raise a child. I did the right thing. Please accept it.”
He pulled his attention away from her. The spacious front room had been turned into an art studio. The walls were covered with anatomical posters. Easels held partially finished paintings. Old cups, mismatched vases and cans held arrangements of dried weeds and flowers. Cork boards were covered with photographs of animals. Plastic models ranging from dinosaurs to whales perched upon shelves. Bookshelves and tables overflowed with books and magazines. The place smelled of paint and chemicals, overlaid with an odor of something spicy cooking in the small kitchen off the studio.
“You’re an artist?” A stack of children’s books caught his attention. Elizabeth probably adored books.
“I illustrate children’s books.”
“You always did draw good pictures.” He glanced at the dogs. “I thought you were going to be a veterinarian. You were always taking care of sick birds and stuff. Remember the baby magpie?”
He placed the envelope carefully on a table, making certain she noticed it. He wanted to trace the fine sheen of sweat on her flushed skin, and rub her hair between his fingers. He wanted to kiss away all traces of Livman’s kiss from her mouth. He made himself stand in place; his joints ached with the effort.
Her gaze went distant, softening the tense muscles of her face. A trace of a smile curved her lips. “You named it Bosco. That was a dumb name for a bird.”
“Mom almost had a heart attack when she found it in my room. But we saved its life.”
She fussed with a messy stack of magazines. When she finally turned to him, all traces of fear had left her face. Even if Livman weren’t a stone-cold killer, Easy didn’t want the man touching her.
“I’m sorry for how I acted the other day. I don’t usually lose my temper like that. Please forgive me.”
Humbled by her apology, he remembered vividly why he’d loved her so much. Around her, he’d always felt like a man. Even at sixteen, she’d had class. Drawn by her shining eyes, he leaned closer to her, catching a whiff of sweet womanly scent heightened by her exercise-warmed skin. He stared into her eyes, mesmerized by their sparkling azure shadowed by lush brown lashes. Her pupils swelled and her eyelids lowered, darkening her eyes into mysterious pools. He drowned gladly.
Don’t, she thought. Don’t look at him, don’t stand so close, don’t remember….
The warnings in her head proved no defense against the burning intensity of his eyes. He cupped her chin in a gentle hand, lifting her face, and she was powerless, trapped as if in a dream from which her desire to escape was as weak as wisps of fog. His hand was cool against her skin. His breath was warm.
His lips were velvet.
She sprang away, gasping. “Who do you think you are?” In her haste to escape, she struck a table with her hip. Several cans of fixative clattered to the floor. She grabbed blindly for them.
He looked dazed. He raked a hand through his hair, mussing it into spikes.
“It’s over!” She thrust out her left hand, showing him the ring. “I’m engaged. I have a life. You can’t interfere. I won’t let you.”
His mouth fell open. “You can’t marry Jeffrey Livman!”
“I can and I will—” Now she realized the danger. Easy had been doing a lot more than merely following her around. For all she knew his impulsive nature had evolved into an obsessive-compulsive disorder. “How in the world do you know about Jeffrey?”
“I’m a private investigator.” He spoke in a rush, his voice harsh. “I’m not interfering in your life, I’m trying to save it. Jeffrey Livman murdered his wife, and now he’s targeted you. I knew you wouldn’t take my word for it, so I put together some hard information. It’s in the envelope. Read it.”
She wished she knew as much about mental disorders as she did about animal anatomy. She hadn’t the faintest idea how to handle his delusions. She clamped down on the urge to shout and threaten. If she angered him, he’d eventually get around to figuring out how to destroy her in court. “Okay, I’ll read it.”
The dogs crowded her legs. Oscar growled, an ominous rumbling from deep in his chest. She rested a hand on his head.
“I have a lot to do,” she said. “Is there a number where I can reach you?”
“Don’t blow me off, Tink. This isn’t a joke. Jeffrey Livman is a stone-cold killer. He collected half a million dollars from his wife’s death. He’ll do the same thing to you.”
“I’m sure you only mean the best for me.” She nodded, hoping to impress him with a show of credulity. “I’ll read your stuff. But I do have a lot to do and I really can’t ask you to stay. I’ll call you. I promise.” After she called her attorney and found out what kind of options she’d have in a legal battle. “I promise, Easy. I will call you.”
She held her breath, waiting. The look he gave her ripped at her heart and made her mouth burn where his kiss had touched her. But he left her home.
She sprang after him and threw the dead bolt. She eyed the envelope he’d left behind. If he’d turned into a deranged stalker intent on destroying her life, she didn’t know what she’d do.
Chapter Four (#ulink_518b7ac6-c0af-5b3c-b7cf-74866bfbef73)
