Promise Made (The Callahan Series) Page 11

  She couldn’t miss their scowls of disappointment.

  “What about dessert?” Gram asked.

  “Forget it, Gram. I really need to lie down.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Dugan said, rising from his chair.

  “No! The walk will do me good.”

  “I insist.”

  “She’s right, Dugan. The walk will clear her head.”

  Kate gave Gram a grateful look. “When will you be home?”

  “Later,” Ed answered. “We want to watch The Late Show, then I’ll drive her to the house.”

  Kate made her exit as gracefully as possible and almost ran home.

  She turned back once to check and see if she was being followed. She was. By Dugan.

  She picked up her pace. He fell back and disappeared into the shadows.

  By the time she walked into the house, she was visibly trembling. “Dear God. What am I to do?”

  Dugan disturbs me in ways I don’t want to think about. What else can I do to screw up my life?

  She splashed cold water on her face and brushed her teeth. Taking off her clothes, she put on a pair of old sweats she’d cut off to sleep in, an even older T-shirt so soft it clung to her body like a second skin.

  She couldn’t sleep. So she took a bottle of water from the fridge, walked into the den and turned on the TV. The news was depressing, the sit-coms stupid. She turned it off, picked up a magazine and flipped through the pages. She couldn’t concentrate on the words, so she put the magazine down. Yogi, as if sensing her disquiet, nudged against her.

  Kate absently patted his head. A soft knock on the door sent Yogi barking and put Kate into panic mode. Gram wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours. And they never had visitors this late. “Who is it?” She hated that her voice sounded frightened. Maybe Dugan was right to be nervous about the murder case. It could attract all kinds of unwanted attention.

  “Is everything all right?”

  She went weak with relief when she heard Dugan's voice. Opening the door, she let him in.

  “I came to check on you.”

  “You followed me.”

  “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “What do you have there?”

  “Ed said a piece of cake would make your headache go away.”

  “He would, wouldn’t he?”

  Dugan brushed past her, headed for the kitchen. “Want some now?”

  Yogi followed, hoping for a treat.

  “I’ll wait.”

  She stood in the doorway while he placed the plate on the counter, then turned to her.

  Green met blue.

  Kate’s knees turned to rubber. She stood taller, locked her knees so she wouldn’t fall. “Thanks, Dugan. And thanks for looking out for Gram.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  Instead of going to the door like Kate anticipated, he stopped in front of her and swept stray hair behind an ear. “Grace and Ed have it bad, don’t they?”

  She could barely breathe, much less talk. “Yes,” she whispered. “They do.”

  “They touch each other when they think no one’s looking,” he said softly. And touched her hand.

  Kate hissed out a breath. “You should see how they sneak kisses.”

  “Like this?” he whispered and kissed her lightly on the forehead, then her cheek.

  “We should stop.” Her voice was barely audible, her mind losing its resolve. For a moment she let the familiar sensations Dugan had once aroused wash through her.

  His hand traced her cheek, down her neck to her shoulder.

  “Don’t you have to leave?” Her voice was strangled. The words didn’t come out as they should.

  “Do you want me to?”

  She shut her eyes. Truth or lie? “No. Yes.”

  His grin was her undoing.

  “Which is it, Kate?”

  She’d promised herself and she’d promised his family. But his hands on her shoulders, the light kisses, his nearness, turned her brain to mush.

  “Do I leave, Kate? Or stay?”

  “Stay.” The whisper, full of longing, was barely out of her mouth when his head dipped to catch her lips. It was familiar. It was electric. The next thing she knew, her arms were around his neck. She leaned her body against his hard one. She couldn’t get close enough, wanted him with everything in her.

  Seconds later he was devouring her, sweeping her into a whirlpool of emotion. When he lifted her up, her legs wrapped around him in a remembered embrace. The taste of him on her lips made her light-headed. Nerve endings tingled as her hands brushed down the sides of his face. Her desire was so intense it staggered her.

  He looked into her eyes as if he couldn’t believe this was happening.

  Kate had never wanted anyone so badly in her life.

  He dipped his head again and continued to send her arousal soaring—continued to let his tongue play with hers. She gloried in the feel of his hardness pressing against her. Wanted more. She drew him closer and ground her pelvis into his. Begging for that sweet release.

  “Shall we take this to your room? Or finish it here?”

  Kate pulled away, looked at him, and silently begged for sanity. Wiggling out of his hold, she struggled for breath. It wouldn’t come. Her hand feathered over his chest as she steadied herself on her feet. Finally, she scrubbed a hand over her face and gasped, “You’d better leave, Dugan. Neither of us really wants to do this.”

  How had this happened? One minute he was all sheriff, the next her ex-lover come back to life.

  He took her hand, drew it to touch him. “Does this feel as if I don’t want you?”

  She shook her head, did her best to clear the sexual fog. “There always was a strong physical attraction between us, wasn’t there?”

  “Is that all it is?”

  “I can’t, Dugan. Please. You don’t want this either.”

  “Not on those terms, that’s for damn sure.”

  Chapter Twelve

  As Dugan’s boots crunched down the walk, Kate slumped to the floor, her back against the wall, laid her head in her hands, and let the tears fall. Yogi licked her face until she pulled him into an embrace.

  She shouldn’t have let this happen. Dugan would think the worst of her. But he couldn’t have any more loathing for her than she had for herself.

  All it had taken was one look, one touch, to forget her promises. She rubbed her chest, as if she could rub away the hurt.

  She wanted Dugan so much it was a throbbing ache. She could still feel his mouth on hers, his hard body against hers. Could still smell him.

  The passion between them was hotter, more intense, and more demanding than before.

  What was she going to do?

  Why couldn’t they be friends, have sex and enjoy each other? She could handle that. Couldn’t she? But Dugan wanted more. Where the hell was Mary Jo?

  Wait a minute. Was that what this was all about? Was Dugan trying to prove to himself that she meant nothing to him anymore?

  If so, she didn’t think he’d succeeded. They’d been minutes away from falling into bed. Did that mean he loved her? Or just wanted her?

  What if he did love her? Even now, with want a curling knot of desire inside her, she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t leave him again.

  Dugan would never back out on a commitment. But could she trust herself? She’d run away once, twice if you counted Erik’s proposal. Why wouldn’t she do so again?

  Yogi snuggled under her arm. She stroked him until he moved away.

  She sat there and wished things were different, wished she was different. Tonight with Dugan had changed everything. Could she stay in Oaktree knowing the attraction was still there? Could she keep her hands off of him? Would he keep his off of her?

  The questions were driving her crazy.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying one minute, pounding the floor with her fist the next. A slamming car door made her jump. “Gram!”

  Th
ey couldn’t catch her like this. Kate, her animals scrambling behind her, ran to her room. She shut the door quietly just as the front door opened. Gram’s soft laugh followed by Ed’s chuckle filtered softly through the closed door. Kate could imagine them kissing just as she and Dugan had earlier.

  Her blood ran cold. What must Dugan think?

  They’d been through this before. They would not go through it again.

  She moved Heidi aside, put a pillow over her head so she couldn’t hear—couldn’t think.

  Pain settled in her heart region. There was no way she could get involved with Dugan. He deserved a woman he could trust—and that wasn’t her.

  She clamped her lips together so they wouldn’t hear as she cried into the pillow.

  ****

  Dugan wanted to kick himself into the next county. Last night should never have happened. He’d almost turned down the invite to the fish fry. Now he realized he should have listened to himself. He simply couldn’t be around Kate without wanting her. Did that mean he still loved her? He didn’t want to think about that. Lord knew he couldn’t go through another fiasco like the one five years ago. So why didn’t he just stay away?

  He kicked himself again. Because he couldn’t. She was like a drug. One he couldn’t do without. What did that mean in the long run?

  Nothing. Kate was someone he’d have to get over. Whatever it took, even though he had a helluva time resisting her. Touching her last night had brought up memories of happier times. Younger times. When they’d loved with a passion that couldn’t be quenched.

  For a short, glorious minute, he thought they would make love. He’d wanted her more than he ever remembered wanting her before. And she’d wanted him.

  He guessed it was a good thing when Kate put a stop to it.

  Could she forget what had happened? Could he?

  Last night had been an eye-opener. He couldn’t stop the awareness that swamped over him when he saw her at Ed’s, looking both smart and sexy. When he’d kissed her, he’d thought it was a test. Could he resist? Was he over her? The kiss would tell. The sudden blossoming heat of passion had taken him by surprise. He’d found his head swimming with an old, familiar want. When her eyes widened, he’d seen that same want—that same desire.

  What did all of this suppressed passion mean?

  The buzz of the intercom broke into his reverie.

  “State police are on the phone,” Sybil said, her voice low and intimate.

  Usually, Sybil’s attempts to flirt amused him. Not today.

  Other than saying good-morning to the office in general, the only thing Dugan had accomplished this morning was his daily run and a couple of conversations to himself about his Kate problem.

  He picked up the phone, growled his hello.

  “Olin Williams, State Police. Figured you’d like a heads-up on the Johnson murder.”

  “Have you found any proof that the wife intentionally killed her husband?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The insurance policy makes me wonder.”

  “That’s not enough to prove pre-meditation.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But it’s enough to make us look deeper.”

  “Do you intend to question her neighbors, her sister, and anyone else who knows her?” Dugan asked.

  “Sure do.”

  “Need any help?”

  “You agree with my suspicions?”

  “Every one of them.”

  “Then yes. We’re shorthanded right now. We could use the help.”

  “Would you like me to take the neighbors?”

  “Sounds good. We’ll question the sister in San Antonio. While you’re at it, check with her pastor. I understand Ms. Johnson’s a big church-goer.”

  “Will do.”

  “You have my number. Let me know what you find.”

  Dugan hung up and sat there a minute. The best way to keep your mind off a problem you couldn’t solve was to keep busy. One of his deputies could do the legwork, but doing so wouldn’t help Dugan.

  He grabbed his Stetson off the rack and stalked out the door. “I’ll be on the horn if you need me.”

  He ignored the questioning eyes that followed him out.

  An hour later, his notebook was full, but he had no new information. If Rita had planned to kill her husband, she’d kept it to herself. He had two more people to interrogate, Rita’s best friend, Halle Wright, was next.

  He drove up to the doublewide, got out and dodged tricycles, a colorful beach ball, and a beat-up child’s stove before he made it to the door.

  It was opened by a nice looking woman in her mid-thirties, a look of frustration in her eyes.

  “Everybody, back to your game,” she said over her shoulder as she opened the door.

  From the woman’s stern, no-nonsense voice, she could be a drill sergeant. Her black hair frizzled around her face in tiny curls, and she had what looked like play dough on her hands. She held them up, made a grimace.

  “Kids!”

  “Are you Halle Wright?”

  “Yep! What’s up, Sheriff? You haven’t taken Rita back to jail, have you?”

  As she talked, she walked through the living area to the kitchen. Dugan followed. She washed her hands and wiped them on a paper towel.

  In the next room, an argument broke out. Several dark-headed kids of various ages were bent over the dining room table.

  “Excuse me.”

  She left him standing there. It didn’t take but a minute. “Sorry. Can’t leave them alone for too long.”

  “I won’t take much of your time then. And no. We didn’t pick Rita up, but I do want to ask you a few questions.”

  Her gaze flew to the kids. “Shoot.”

  He opened his notebook. “How long have you known Rita?”

  “Ever since we got here. Met her at church and hit it off right away.”

  “Did she talk about her family life?”

  Halle snorted. “What else is there to talk about? Kids and husbands are our life.”

  “Did she complain about her husband? About his drinking?”

  “Sure she did. On occasion, I’d see bruises and ask her if he hit her.”

  “And?”

  Halle dropped her head. “She admitted he did, but wouldn’t do anything about it.” She lifted her eyes to his. “If he’d been my husband, I would have divorced him.”

  “Or killed him?”

  Halle glared. “I would have wanted to.”

  “Did she ever say anything to you along those lines?

  “About wanting to kill Toby? Are you kidding? Rita is too passive to be so bold. If the knife hadn’t been there she’d be dead now. That’s how submissive she is.” Halle shook her head. “All I can say is, I’m glad. Think what would happen to her kids if he’d killed her?”

  The kids at the table acted up again so Dugan made his escape.

  Was he, along with the state guys, on the wrong footing? But he’d seen the brief look in Rita’s eyes when he answered the 911 call. Plus, he had a cop feeling. His cop feelings were almost always dead-on.

  He made one last stop to see Pastor Jones of the Mount Zion church, where Rita and her children were members. The reverend was more than happy to talk about Rita. “She’s one of the pillars of this church. She doesn’t have money, but she makes up for the lack by volunteering. She helps put on the rummage sale each year, and brings food for the less fortunate. Even though I thought she should keep it for her own family. Rita Johnson is a fine and upstanding lady.”

  “Did she ever complain about her home life?”

  “About her husband, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  “Never did. There were bruises from time to time on her face or arms as they healed. She’d miss church before she’d let the church members see her all beaten up. She wouldn’t talk to me about it other than to say she had it under control. So no. She never did talk about her husband and their problems.”


  “Then she never hinted she was at the end of her rope, so to speak. Perhaps wanted out?”

  Pastor Jones shook his head, his eyes wide with indignation. “If you’re insinuating what I think you are, you’re wrong, Sheriff. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

  Having been summarily dismissed, Dugan left. He had accomplished nothing.

  Since it was lunchtime, and he hadn’t had breakfast, Dugan stopped at Molly’s.

  Until Kate came home, he’d enjoyed eating at Molly’s daily. He’d enjoyed the camaraderie of the town folks. Their gossip had kept him clued into the latest goings on.

  Not so much now that it centered on him.

  Since he was aware of what they were up to, he dreaded walking in the door. Hell, he still had to eat, didn’t he? He’d ignore their questioning looks and their blatant inquiries.

  Easier said than done, as the first one to wave him over was Sadie Hicks. “Hi, Sadie. How’s everything going?”

  “Just fine, Sheriff. You?”

  The gleam in Sadie’s eyes made him hesitate. After last night, he didn’t want questions and didn’t want Sadie’s wagging tongue to take anything he said and twist it to her liking. “Don’t have time to talk, Sadie. Gotta eat and run.”

  He eased to the counter and placed his order. He didn’t want to stay here and be forced to listen to questions about Kate. Nor could he bear their soulful looks. But hell, he was hungry.

  Molly leaned over the counter and whispered, “I can have it delivered.”

  “You’re one in a million, Molly.” He paid, left a hefty tip and was out the door before anyone else could waylay him.

  “Close call.”

  He looked up to see his brother, Donovan, grinning from ear to ear.

  “What are you doing in town?”

  “Wanted to have lunch with my brother, but you were in and out of Molly’s too fast for me.”

  Dugan walked to his cruiser. “Molly said she’d deliver my lunch. Got time for a cup of coffee?”

  “Let me make a quick order myself. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Donovan ducked into Molly’s while Dugan drove the short distance to his office. It was Donovan’s busy time on the ranch. Dugan wondered what had sent him to town.

  When they finished their BLTs, Donovan looked over at the large piece of cake sitting on a file cabinet in the corner. “Don’t remember Mom baking a chocolate cake in the last day or so.”