The Wharf. Carol EricsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
doll grinned at her with a mouth that resembled a slash of blood, calling up images of the original doll at the Walker murder scene. Kacie pressed two shaky fingers to the red yarn on the rag doll’s face just to make sure it wasn’t blood.
“Kacie, what does this mean?”
She raised her head, her eyes locking onto Ryan’s as he put a steadying hand on her bouncing knee. The gesture had an immediate effect on her and she took a deep breath. She didn’t have to face this alone right now. “Zoe Walker had a doll just like this one. When they found her body, she had one arm wrapped around her doll—this doll.”
“I remember the doll from your book. This one’s not yours, is it?” He flicked the paper with his fingers.
“No. This is the first time I’ve seen a doll like this since I saw the original. Someone sent this to me. That homeless guy didn’t find a package outside the hotel. Someone probably paid him to deliver it to this hotel.”
As a shiver rolled through her body, she pushed the doll from her lap, where it landed on the carpet still cradled in the brown paper.
“Wait.” Ryan picked up two corners of the wrapping. “This might contain some evidence—fingerprints, hair, clothing fibers.”
She shifted away from the doll as he placed the package next to her on the cushion and carefully folded the paper around the toy.
“Do you want to tell me why someone would want to send this particular doll to you?” He sat back on his heels as if he had all night to wait for an explanation.
She had no intention of making him wait that long. Despite her revulsion toward all things Brody, she couldn’t deny the trust this man fostered in her bones.
He’d saved her from the sauna. His capable hands, square jaw and broad shoulders signaled stability and security. His green eyes reflected sincerity—when they weren’t darkening to something more like lust, which happened anytime they wandered over her body.
The fears of the night, beginning with the fratricidal ex-con, flooded her senses, and her pulse rate galloped a mile a minute. She filled her lungs with a deep breath from her nose and expelled it through parted lips to ward off the rising panic and rushing adrenaline.
“Kacie, are you okay?” Ryan squeezed her knee.
“Fighting off an anxiety attack.” She pointed to the ceiling. “I’ll tell you all about this doll and who sent it from the comfort of my own room while holding a glass of wine in one hand.”
“You got it.” He sprang to his feet and held out his hand. “I’ll help you up. One of my officers suffers from panic attacks, and she always gets a little dizzy.”
She gripped his warm hand and struggled to her feet. “You have a cop working for you who has panic attacks?”
“Shh.” He held his finger to his lips. “That’s top secret.”
“But you’re her boss.”
“That’s right. She’s a good cop. She told me about the attacks and it doesn’t need to go any further—not that I think you’ll go running to the Crestview City Council to report us.”
Leaning against him, she tilted her head the other way to survey his face. “That’s decent of you.”
“I have totally selfish reasons. Like I said, she’s a good cop and she makes the department and me look good.”
She licked her lips. Yeah, he probably likes the way that cop’s backside looks in uniform.
He kept his hand on her back and the package tucked under his other arm as he guided her toward the elevator. “I think we can skip the stairs this time.”
As the doors closed, she stepped away from his warmth and wedged her shoulder against the cold mirror inside the car. “This has been quite a day—full of shocks and surprises.”
She counted among those shocks and surprises her immediate attraction to Ryan Brody. The guy had it all in the looks department, including a killer bod, but she’d known that before their face-to-face meeting. She’d seen pictures of him and had even had her P.I. do a little surveillance on him in Crestview.
Brandy, the female P.I. she used, had gone a little overboard with some of the private pictures she’d gotten of Ryan with her long lens.
When Kacie had shuffled through the photos, including quite a few shirtless ones and even a grainy picture of Ryan coming out of his shower, she’d accused Brandy of forming an obsession over her subject.
Brandy, a lesbian in a committed relationship, had just winked.
Kacie’s physical attraction to Ryan made up only part of the equation. The guy had rescued her from a scorching sauna. What girl wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by that?
And then there was the way he had looked at her.
She glanced down at the body that for years had compelled her to sip diet sodas and munch raw veggies, while her two sisters and her mom could seemingly eat whatever they wanted and still maintain their svelte figures.
Ryan had eyed her as if he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and throw her down on the nearest bed or bend her over the nearest kitchen counter or take her against the wall—any wall.
She pressed her cheek against the cool glass of the mirrored elevator.
“Are you going to faint? Because I can carry you back to your room—piece of cake.” He snapped his fingers.
The elevator doors whisked open and she stepped into the hallway, looking over her shoulder. “I’ll save you the strain on your back.”
His eyebrows jumped to his hairline and he cocked his head. “You’re as light as a feather.”
Great. How many weaknesses and insecurities could she reveal to him in the course of one night?
She invited him into her room and immediately abandoned the idea of the glass of wine. After the accusations against, and subsequent suicide of, his father, Ryan’s mother had turned to drugs and alcohol. Kacie didn’t want Ryan thinking she was a lush on top of all the other flaws she’d put on display that night.
Crouching in front of the little fridge, she asked, “Water? Something else?”
“If you’re still having that wine, I’ll have a beer—and I’ll pay you back.”
“I decided against the wine. Do you still want the beer? It’s on the house.”
“I still want the beer, and I’ll still pay you for it.”
She wrapped her fingers around a chilled bottle and held it up. “Is this okay?”
“That’ll do.” He reached over and took it from her and then twisted off the cap. “Now, tell me about that doll.”
She snapped the lid on a diet soda and perched on the edge of the bed. “Like I told you before, the little Walker girl had the same doll. A strand of Walker’s hair was found on the doll, and it was stuck on top of the blood smears. Walker’s defense team and the prosecution went back and forth on this point. Walker’s attorneys claimed that it wouldn’t be unusual for a piece of their client’s hair to be on his daughter’s doll, and the prosecution argued that it got there during the murder.”
“It was a significant piece of evidence.”
“Yes.”
“So, who sent you the doll and why?”
She pleated the bedspread with her fingers. “I think Walker sent it to me as a warning.”
As Ryan sat next to her on the bed, she proceeded to tell him about her meeting with the ex-con and Walker’s threats against her.
When she finished, he whistled between his teeth. “You’re telling me earlier tonight you met with some ex-con who said he had info