Single Father Sheriff. Carol EricsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
before I left for college, and Timberline was in danger of becoming a ghost town.”
“Evergreen had already planted stakes by the time I got here, so I don’t have the before and after picture, except from the locals’ stories of the old days, and Mayor Young is always crowing about how much he’s done for development in Timberline.”
“Ah, so Jordan Young is mayor now.”
“Actually, he stepped down recently, but he’s a one-man cheerleading squad.”
“Timberline does have a storied history—from silver mining to lumber to high tech. It’s nice to see some life in the old place—maybe a little too much life.” She wrapped both hands around her mug. “What do you really think about that mannequin?”
He blew the steam from the surface of the coffee in his cup and took a sip. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that it was left for you, even if it was a joke. Everyone in town knows your connection to the old kidnappings.”
“I wonder if Wyatt got any surprises tonight.” She tapped her fingernail against her mug. “I’m not the only one in town connected to the Timberline Trio, although it’s just the two of us after Heather Brice’s family left the area. I don’t suppose her older brother, wherever he is, has been getting these little reminders”
“Good idea. I’ll check with Wyatt tomorrow. He’s still working on a job at the station for us.”
“I have a hard time believing it’s the kidnapper who left it. What’s the point?”
“He’s a kidnapper. Who knows? There could be a million reasons in his deranged mind—if he has a deranged mind.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s like you just said—he’s a kidnapper. Why wouldn’t he have a deranged mind? Anyone who kidnaps a child for whatever reason has to be sick.”
“These two kidnappings could be for a purpose.”
“You mean like some kind of ring?” She laced her fingers around her cup as if trying to draw warmth from the liquid inside. “I can’t bear to think about that possibility.”
“I know. Believe me, as the father of a young daughter, I can’t, either.”
“Someone like that wouldn’t hang around to plant mannequins in trucks.”
“Exactly, so we don’t know what we’re looking at yet, but I’m sure that mannequin is connected to the kidnappings, even if it is just a cruel joke on you.”
She yawned and covered her mouth. “Sorry. Not even coffee can keep me awake after the day I’ve had.”
“I’ll get going. Didn’t mean to keep you up all night.”
His mind flashed on keeping her up all night another way and as her brows lifted slightly, he had an uneasy feeling the therapist could not only read his face but his mind, too—unless it was all an act. A therapist didn’t know much more than a layman or a cop, for that matter.
“I was glad for the company. Having you here in this empty house made my jitters go away.” She rose from the chair and held out her hand for his cup.
“Good.” He handed her the mug. “Is it okay if I use your restroom before heading out?”
“First door on your right.”
After he washed his hands and stepped into the short hallway, he heard clinking glass in the kitchen. He glanced at the cabinet again.
Something had spooked her this afternoon, and then the mannequin had spooked her tonight. Was this a pattern? And didn’t he have an obligation to find out if it was?
He crept toward the cabinet and eased open the drawer, his gaze tracking through the contents.
“Shouldn’t you get a search warrant before you go snooping through my stuff?”
Her cold voice stopped him in his tracks. Then he plucked the pink ribbon from the drawer and turned, dangling it in front of him.
“Funny-looking spider.”
Heat flashed across her cheeks and she dug her heels into the carpet to keep from launching herself at him and snatching the ribbon from his hand.
“Why are you pawing through my aunt’s possessions? You can’t wait for the yard sale?”
“Nice try, Kendall.” He shook the ribbon at her. “This is what scared you this afternoon, sent you running for the hills.”
“So what if it was?” She jutted her chin forward. “You’re a cop, not my therapist. I don’t have to reveal every facet of my life to you.”
“I’d at least appreciate the ones that are pertinent to my case.” He dropped the ribbon where it fluttered to the top of the cabinet.
“I didn’t know it was.”
“C’mon, Kendall, a pink ribbon like the one the kidnapper took from you that night? That’s why it freaked you out, isn’t it?”
She dropped her chin to her chest and studied his face through lowered lashes. “I’d just met you, so to speak. I felt foolish for taking off like that, for exposing my frailties to a stranger.”
He wedged his hands on the cabinet behind him. “I can understand that, but why didn’t you tell me about it tonight after you found the mannequin?”
“Not sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest, cupping her elbows. “Telling you later would be admitting I lied to you.”
“Look, Kendall.” He blew out a breath. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t even owe anything to those two grieving families.”
She sliced her hand through the air. “It’s not that I don’t want to help them. God knows I do, but it can’t be at the expense of my own mental health, especially if that help doesn’t do anything to find their children.”
“We don’t know that yet. Let’s put everything on the table.” He launched off the cabinet and took her by the shoulders. “Trust me. Just trust me. Am I that scary? Do I come across as judgmental? I’m not.”
She tilted her head back to look into his earnest blue eyes. Was it that important for him that he have her trust?
“You don’t. Not at all.” She ringed her fingers around his wrists, or at least as far as they would go. “I lied this afternoon because I didn’t want you to see how affected I was by the events in my past, and I didn’t think the ribbon had any meaning for the current case. I didn’t tell you about the ribbon after the mannequin because it would’ve exposed my earlier lie. Is that plain enough for you?”
“Why try to hide your feelings about the tragedy? Anyone would be traumatized.”
Her lips twisted into a smile. “Only the strong survive.”
His eyes flickered for a second as they darkened with pain.
Who didn’t trust whom here?
“You found the ribbon in the drawer of that cabinet. It can’t be the same one.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “That’s not a twenty-five-year-old ribbon.”
She stepped back from his realm. How did he get truths from her so easily? Who was the therapist here?
“I’ve been thinking about it all day. It could be the original one left in my hair, or another one of Kayla’s that my aunt found. If the ribbon hadn’t been exposed to the sun, it wouldn’t have faded. Or maybe my aunt had bought some new ribbons for some project, and this one happens to be pink.”
“Or the same person who left a child-sized mannequin in your truck bed, left the ribbon for you to find knowing the effect it would