The Sharpest Edge. Stephanie Rowe

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Название The Sharpest Edge
Автор произведения Stephanie Rowe
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
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Издательство Зарубежные детективы
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released her arm. “If he was on your roof, it’s not over.”

      Oh, God. Right. It wasn’t over. “So you do think…you think he was here?” Her voice sounded so weak and pathetic she hated herself. Why couldn’t Sean tell her that it had been some four-legged creature and that she’d been a paranoid fool? She lifted her chin and cleared her throat. She would not be Jimmy’s victim anymore. “Did you find tracks?”

      Sean hesitated. “It could have been an animal. There are indications of a bear around the house and on the deck near the grill.”

      “But you’re not sure?” Why couldn’t he be certain? Why couldn’t he say Jimmy had never been near the house? Dammit. Even a bear with rabies would be better than Jimmy.

      “No, I’m not sure.” He cracked his jaw, the pop loud in the silent house. He still hadn’t regained his aloofness, his fingers twitching restlessly by his sides. “So do you have scars or not?”

      She shrugged and didn’t answer. Her scars were her own private hell, thank you very much.

      He slammed his fist into a cabinet as he turned away, leaving a raw dent in the wood from the high-school class ring he still wore on his finger. He rested his hands on the counter and dropped his head. She could see his shoulders rise and fall with his breath. Guess he figured out the answer to his question on his own. Bully for him.

      After a long moment, he turned toward her. His face was reserved again, though he was struggling to contain the emotion rumbling in his eyes. “You didn’t tell him where Cheryl was, did you?” His tone assumed the answer she gave him.

      “No. I didn’t.”

      He nodded and she thought she saw a flash of respect cross his features. “Did he try to kill you?”

      She swallowed. “Yes.” It was when she knew he was going to kill her that she realized she would never be like her mother and accept death as the easy answer. It was sort of difficult to get excited about finding the will to live, given the circumstances at the time, but a part of her was grateful that she’d discovered her strength.

      A muscle ticked in his neck, but the rest of him was immobile. “Prison?”

      “I testified against him. I put him away.”

      Sean swore again and she shoved her trembling hands under her legs. How much did she not want to relive this nightmare? But she had to. She had to make sure that Sean understood the threat. Not Sean specifically, but the police in general. Because Sean wasn’t hers anymore. She’d made sure of that when she left. Apparently, she’d done a damn good job of it, too. Wasn’t she talented? Hah. She didn’t feel so good about her long-ago actions right now. All the more reason to get out of town and back to L.A. as soon as possible. “He got out on bail right away, and for the twelve months before the trial, he followed me around. Called me. Sent me e-mails. Befriended the guards in my building.”

      Her mouth was too dry to swallow and she took Sean’s soda and drank from it. “His strategy was to scare me. Make me wonder when he would come back to kill me. It gave him power to know I was looking over my shoulder. To realize I was afraid to answer the phone at night or walk to my car after work.” She flexed her hands, making fists. “He got only six months in jail because of all the cops who testified as character witnesses. When they led him out of the courtroom, he looked right at me and mouthed the words ‘I will come for you.’” She raised her gaze to Sean. “He got out on parole yesterday.”

      Deep terror settled in her bones and she knew Sean saw it by the anger vibrating in his eyes. Anger on her behalf? A tremble of something alive sparked inside her, but he averted his face and gazed out at the dark lake. “Where can you go tonight?”

      Go? “What are you talking about?”

      “If he’s back, you can’t stay here.” He gestured around the house. “Look at all these windows and doors. No alarm. You won’t be safe.”

      She glanced at the windows and a cold chill settled in her belly at the thought that Jimmy could be sitting a few yards away, watching her while he hid in the darkness. “Where am I supposed to go?”

      “A hotel? A friend’s?” As if he didn’t care. Anywhere that would take her off his worry list.

      And suddenly, she felt outrage roil up inside of her. She’d been quaking in fear for the past eighteen months. She’d given up the life she loved and traveled across the country to escape Jimmy, braving the memories of her childhood home, and now he was going to steal this last bit of independence from her by making her move into a hotel? Dammit! It was enough!

      She smacked her palms on the table and glared at Sean. “I’m not running away again. I’m tired of changing my life because I’m so afraid. He’s been manipulating me for months and I’ve had it!” She sat straighter now, empowered by Sean’s presence and the fact that he’d found no signs of attempted forced entry or human footprints. “He probably wasn’t even here, or if he was, he had no intention of hurting me. He’s trying to twist my mind again and I’m sick of it!”

      “Fine. Be sick of it. But you’re not staying here. Not until you get an alarm.” He frowned. “What about Max’s place? Why don’t you stay there?”

      Stay at her dad’s house? Something twisted inside her. Something that felt like grief but was actually hate. She could tell the difference and it was hatred she felt for her father. “You didn’t hear about my dad?”

      The lines around his mouth tightened. “I know about Max. I’ve been to see him in the hospital five times. I thought you could stay with Helen and the kids.”

      “Stay with his wife? Are you kidding?” No way. No way. No way. Kim might have never met Helen, but she despised her. When Helen had married Kim’s dad three weeks after Joyce was buried, Helen lost the right to a fair trial. Guilty by association.

      Disgust and betrayal snapped in Sean’s face. “You haven’t changed, have you? Destroyed everything ten years ago and you’re still doing it.”

      What? He was blaming her? “I didn’t destroy anything. Max did.” The man didn’t even deserve to be called her father anymore. Max was impersonal and fitting.

      Sean’s upper lip curled in disdain. “Max did nothing wrong.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “No one at the hospital mentioned you were in town. You haven’t even been to see him, have you?” The accusation was deep in his voice and she flinched.

      Guilt flared up and she threw it back on him. “I just got here a couple days ago, so back off.” The excuse sounded weak, even to her. But what was she supposed to do? Admit how guilty she felt that she hadn’t rushed over there to get answers for Cheryl? So what if Kim didn’t want to see her dad? She had planned to check with the doctors without going to the hospital, but they wouldn’t give out information over the phone, even though she’d grown up here and should fall under the category of “trusted local.” She hadn’t been able to bring herself to meet with the doctors in person. What if Helen and her kids were at the hospital? What if Max woke up while Kim was in his room? What if she simply couldn’t handle the memories?

      Dammit. She had to get over it. Go over to the hospital. Talk to the doctors. Cheryl deserved information.

      “So you haven’t visited him.” He leaned back and shook his head in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? Your family used to be so close and now you won’t go see your own dad while he’s in a coma?”

      Naked anguish wrenched in her chest. Okay, that wasn’t simple hatred. Definitely some emotional baggage in there. Crud. Being back in town was ripping through her defenses. “Don’t judge me.” Yeah, so what if she’d always been the first to hug her parents and used to drag Sean to Sunday dinner with the family every weekend? That was long gone now.

      “Don’t judge you? You, the woman who took off on me without so much as a note. The woman who didn’t come back for her own mother’s funeral. You don’t even care that your dad’s in a coma. What the hell