Page 88 of One Cut Deeper
“Then you’re mine.”
34
Isuck at waiting. Especially when my life hangs in the balance. One day went by. Another. And still nothing happens.
I never see Charlie, though I try to look for him as inconspicuously as possible. He said he’s close, that he’s always watching, but I never see him. I can only trust that he’s the Master of his word.
Sleep is a fond memory. Even with Sheba beside me in Charlie’s bed, I can’t relax. I hear the creak of a floorboard, the rustle of a branch outside, the soft flutter of an owl or bat flying by, and I’m done. Wide awake, heart pounding, sweating. I can’t eat. I’ve already lost ten pounds. Any other time, that would’ve thrilled me, but I need to keep my energy up. I might have to fight for my life. Practicing the self-defense moves doesn’t help any. My jeans hang on me but I don’t dare go buy new ones. I don’t want to risk a shoot-out at Walmart if that’s when Rusk decides to strike.
A man from Lowe’s scared me to death when he showed up to install the new sliding glass door.
Sheba barked at a hungry squirrel outside the new door and I lost another ten years off my life.
So it’s almost a relief when the police show up at work. Sheriff Cutler and Deputy Daniels are the good guys. So far.
“Miss Killian, we have an update for you,” Sheriff Cutler says. “Do you think you could leave work a little early today and come down to our office? We’ll make it as quick as possible.”
“Sure. Let me tell Dr. Wentworth.” I step into the back and find her. “The police are here. They have a few questions for me. Is it—”
“Are you in trouble?” Dr. Wentworth whispers furiously. “Is there anything I can do? If you need a lawyer…”
“No, nothing like that. At least I don’t think so. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
She gives me a quick, hard hug. “I’ll call your parents. Unless you don’t want me to?”
“No, that’s fine. Tell them I’ll call with an update later tonight as soon as I can so they don’t worry.”
It makes me a little uneasy to climb into the back of a police car with the cage and all, but Sheba hops right in. Deputy Daniels drives while the sheriff makes small talk about the weather and how cold it is, and he sure can’t wait for retirement when he’s going on a cruise with his wife.
“Everything’s been okay?” he finally asks, turning slightly in his seat so he can see me. “You haven’t had any more trouble?”
“Not yet.” I smile weakly.
“You look pale and tired.” Daniels glances at me in the mirror but doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Not like Rusk. “Are you still worried he might come back?”
“I’m not sleeping well.” Truth, that’s definitely the easiest route. “The FBI scared me with all their horrible pictures and accusations.”
“Yeah, well, maybe some of this will be put to rest today,” Cutler drawls. “At least one threat has been eliminated. We need you to ID the body.”
“Body?” I have a sudden horrible vision of walking in and seeing Charlie cold and dead on the table. A bullet hole in his head. His face, pale and hard. It almost makes me throw up.
“Should be pretty quick and painless,” Cutler continues. “He didn’t have any ID on him but from your description and the location of the body, we’re pretty sure it’s him.”
“Him, who?”
Daniels looks in the mirror again. Watching. Watching. A good guy? I think so, but he didn’t stand up for me against Rusk the first time. I can’t count on him for help.
“We think it’s Tasker.”
I take a deep, shaking breath but hopefully my face doesn’t sag with relief. “How’d he die?”
“Initial report says he died because his throat was slit, but he had several stab wounds. We’re guessing whoever killed him took a few wounds too.” Cutler keeps up that good old boy routine, but he’s watching me as carefully as his deputy. “Did Mr. MacNiall have any knives, Miss Killian?”
“Yes,” I answer quietly.
“The night of the break-in, did MacNiall leave at any point in the night?”
I stall a little, trying to keep my thoughts calm and organized. “I fell asleep, but there was a bunch of pounding. I think Deputy Daniels was there.”