Dark Pursuit полностью

Kaitlan liked Hallie. She was unassuming and laid back, and loved to have fun. Much more outgoing than her brother, with a wider circle of friends. Hallie worked in a nonprofit organization as a counselor for dysfunctional families. Her clients loved her.

Craig touched Kaitlan’s arm. “Let’s go say hello.”

“Not so fast.” Chief Barlow stepped closer. She could see the faint scar across his bulldog chin, the veins in his nose. His left hand found his hip, and he leaned forward, making a point of looking down at Kaitlan. “I want to talk to her.”

Her. Why wouldn’t he even say her name?

Craig surveyed his father. His lips pressed, his gaze moving from Chief Barlow to Kaitlan. Animosity glinted in his eye. Craig’s relationship with his father seemed complicated. On one hand they were close enough for Craig to follow in his dad’s footsteps. And Kaitlan didn’t doubt for a minute that the chief would turn into a raging bull to protect Craig if he had to. Lie for him, cover up for him. Kaitlan could see that.

But a part of Craig clearly resented his father.

Maybe Chief Barlow had abused him as a child.

On the outside Craig wasn’t anything like his dad. He was reserved instead of blustery. Compliant under his dad’s bossiness. Craig still grieved over his mom’s leaving, while his dad hated Ellen Barlow with his whole being. At least that’s what Craig had told Kaitlan. “Don’t ever bring up my mom to him. Ever.”

But underneath maybe father and son were just alike. Both boiling with rage over being abandoned.

“Now, Dad, don’t be hard on her.” Craig pressed a playful fist against his father’s shoulder. “She’s had a rough day.” He turned and locked warning eyes with Kaitlan—keep yourself in line. Then he walked away.

Kaitlan faced Chief Barlow, insides trembling. She slid her purse off her shoulder and held it with both hands at her chest.

“So.” He smiled—an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “How was hair styling today?”

“Fine.”

He ran his tongue below his top lip. “Craig said you had a rough day. You work long hours?”

The question startled her. He’d backed into it nonchalantly enough, but …

“I—I had some cancellations at the last minute. Not good. I lose money when that happens.”

“I see.”

He looked down on her with heavy-lidded eyes. “I’ve been doing a little checking on you.”

Her breathing hitched.

The chief sniffed, and his large nostrils flared. “Seems you’ve done some time. For drugs.”

She should leave this party now. Just walk home.

The chief raised his thick finger and pointed at her. “I don’t like that kind of background dating my son. You could bring him down. And I won’t let that happen. He’s going to be chief some day.”

Kaitlan swallowed.

“Unfortunately I can’t control my grown son’s choices.” The chief gave Kaitlan a penetrating look. “I raised him. Now he’s his own man. He’s going to do what he’s going to do.”

His gaze dumped ice in the pit of her stomach. What was he really saying?

“So I’m telling you, Kaitlan. Watch yourself. Don’t do anything, don’t say anything that would give Craig trouble.” He thrust his head forward—and for one second fear gripped his features. “Am I making myself clear, young lady?”

Kaitlan had gone numb.

He knows.

The hard, meaningful stare screamed his story—sleepless nights, the decisions he’d made, and chances he’d taken to sweep his son’s guilt under the rug.

Craig must have told his father she’d found out. Driven by the fear of being caught, he’d confessed he’d killed again—and begged his dad to help him keep her quiet …

How easily they could. Given her history, one planted package of drugs in her car could send her away for years.

Or worse. Craig would kill her.

“Kaitlan. Answer me.”

She willed full understanding into her expression. “Yes, you’ve made yourself clear. Completely.”

Chief Barlow pulled back with a slow smile of satisfaction. He nodded once and raised his bottle of beer in a toast.

“Enjoy the party.”

OBSESSION

twenty-five

My first kill happened the night of a party.

A friend of mine and his wife found out she was pregnant. They were ecstatic after trying for over three years. His wife wanted to wait to tell people until she was sure the pregnancy would last. Women always seem to be more cautious about such things than men. My friend—forget it. He wanted to tell the world. And he did.

That weekend they threw the celebration. “Everybody, come over! Bring a bottle of wine, let’s celebrate!”

Of course I went. Of course I was happy for them. Bringing a baby into this world. Messed up as it is. Going to hell as it is.

You can always hope. Maybe redemption’s out there somewhere.

It had been a week since I bought the fabric. I was still running on automatic, my insides twisted and waiting for … something.