Dead of Night

“I thought I heard someone in the attic last night,” Sarah said. “I panicked and called the police, but they didn’t find anything. It may have been squirrels.”



“Why didn’t you call me?” Esme demanded. “I could have been here faster than the police.”



A seventy-year-old woman coming to my rescue.



Sarah could picture it now, Esme in her housecoat and slippers, bearing down on a prowler with the pellet gun she used to scare off stray dogs. As tired as she was, Sarah couldn’t help smiling at that image.



“I’ll show you where the attic entrance is,” Sarah said to Lukas. She could feel Esme’s eyes on her as they walked out of the kitchen, and she knew this would not be the last she heard of it.



She paused in the foyer, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Esme couldn’t overhear them. “I saw Derrick Fears standing outside the house earlier in the evening. I told the officer about him last night.”



“What time did you see him?”



“It was early, just after twilight. I was in the living room looking out the window, but I didn’t see him at first. Then he walked over to stand under the streetlight, as if he wanted to make sure I knew he was there.” Sarah shivered, even though she’d dressed warmly in jeans and a wool sweater. She hadn’t yet had a cup of coffee or anything to eat, but her stomach was suddenly churning. “He had on a hood,” she said. “I didn’t get a good look at his face, but I’m almost certain it was Fears.”



Sunlight streamed in through the glass panels in the door and caught Lukas in the face. He moved away from the glare. “How long did he stay after you noticed him?”



“I don’t know. Only a few minutes. But he must have been there for a while. I doubt it was a coincidence that he showed up just as I was at the window.”



“If you see him around here again, call it in. If he keeps bothering you, we’ll let his parole officer know about it. That might give him some incentive to move on.”



“Do you think Derrick is the one who was in the attic last night? The officer said the window was unlocked, and the only way in is from the roof. That would explain why Esme saw someone up there the other night.”



“I’ll look around,” Lukas said. “How do I get to the attic from inside?”



“Up the stairs and to your right, at the end of the hallway.”



Sarah was still in the foyer a few minutes later waiting for him to come back when the doorbell rang. She answered, expecting to find one of the neighbors with a covered casserole in hand, the symbol of Southern condolences, but instead it was Sean, bleary-eyed and unshaven.



Sarah was so surprised to see him that she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You look like shit.”



“I feel like shit. Can I come in?”



She stepped back, and as he entered, he gave her a quick appraisal. “You don’t look so hot yourself. Long night?”



“You might say that.”



He stood in the entry, restless and wary, as he glanced around. “So this is the place, huh? This is where you grew up.”



“This is it.” Sarah raked her fingers through her hair. “You really didn’t have to drive up here, you know.”



He turned at that. “I think I did, since you wouldn’t return any of my phone calls. Did you even listen to any of the messages?”



“I thought it was best if we didn’t see or talk to each other for a while.”



“Did you?” His gaze lifted to a point behind her, and she turned to see Lukas walking down the stairs. Sarah wasn’t even looking at Sean, but she could sense the sudden tension in his body, like a coiled cobra confronted by a mongoose.



When Lukas got to the bottom of the stairs, Sarah made the introductions and the two men shook hands.



“I’ll have a look around outside before I leave,” Lukas said. “See if I can find any footprints Terry might have missed in the dark.” His eyes were only on Sarah now. “Don’t forget what I said about getting new locks.”



“I won’t.”



He went out the front door, and Sarah turned back to Sean, who was scowling down at her. “What was that all about?”



“I had a prowler last night. Someone got into the attic from the roof.”



“You okay?”



“I’m fine.”



But Sarah saw that his attention was caught again by something behind her. This time it was Esme. She’d come into the dining room and appeared to be unabashedly eavesdropping. When she saw Sarah’s scowl, she pretended to dust the table with her apron.



“Let’s go for a walk,” Sean muttered.



They went out the front door, but Sarah led him around the house to the back path. They walked past Esme’s cottage down through the pear orchard. The sun was bright and warm, and the breeze rustled through the dead leaves sounding like a rain shower.



In the distance, Sarah could hear the bells in the trees over the old Duncan graves. The sound made her shiver.



Sean’s head cocked as he listened. “Is that a wind chime?”



“No, it’s bells.”



“It’s kind of an eerie sound,” he said. “Don’t think I’d want to hear that in the dark.”



He fell silent, and Sarah found herself studying him out of the corner of her eye. He wore a thin leather jacket over a gray T-shirt and jeans. Even haggard and weary, he was still one of the most attractive men she’d ever known.



“So how did you find out?” she finally asked.



He looked startled. “Find out...what?”



Sarah frowned. “You heard about my father, right? Isn’t that why you’re here?”



“Your father? No. What happened?”



“He’s dead. I assumed that’s why you came.”



“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know the two of you weren’t close, but that kind of thing is never easy.”



She drew a long breath. “Especially under these circumstances.”



“What do you mean?”



“He didn’t just die, Sean. He was murdered.”



He stared down at her for the longest moment. “You mean as in someone pulled the plug?”



“I wish. No, it’s...oh, God, it’s so much worse than that. So horrible I can hardly bear to think about it, much less talk about it.” She paused to take another breath. “Someone came into his room and cut his throat.”



Sean was clearly shocked. “When did it happen?”



“Early yesterday morning. The nurse found him when she went in to give him a morphine shot.”



“Do the police have any suspects?”



Sarah’s hand trembled as she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “I think I’m their suspect.”



Something flickered in his gaze. “Why would they think you killed him?”



Sarah waved a hand toward the house. “He was a wealthy man by some standards and I’m the only family he has left. I guess that makes me the logical suspect.”



“But he was dying. He only had a few months left, you said.”



“Yes, I know.”



“So you could have just waited it out. Unless he threatened to cut you out of his will. But then you’ve never seemed to care about his money.”



“But the police here don’t know me like you do,” Sarah said softly.



He looked out over the pear trees. A breeze ruffled his hair, and the light skimming down through the limbs highlighted a road map of tiny lines Sarah had never noticed before. His job was taking a toll. Aging him before his time.



“Sometimes I wonder if I really do know you,” he said. “You keep so much of yourself hidden. All those secrets. I don’t have a clue what goes through your head.”



The edge in his voice alarmed Sarah. “Sean, if you didn’t know about my father, why are you here?”



“I need to talk to you about Cat.”



She didn’t realize who he meant at first. “Cat? You mean Catherine?”



“I need to know if you’ve seen or talked to her recently.”



Sarah was completely taken aback. But the way Sean looked at her made the alarm buzz even louder in her brain. Something was wrong. He wouldn’t have made the trip from New Orleans just to ask if she’d talked to his wife.



“Did you see her last Saturday night after I left your house?”



“No. I left to come here right after we talked.”



“You drove straight through?”



“Pretty much. I had to pull over and wait out a rainstorm. Why? What’s happened?”



He scrubbed a hand across his face. “She’s missing.”



“Missing? For how long?”



“Since Saturday night. No one has seen or heard from her. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”



Sarah frowned. “I don’t understand. Why would you think I’ve seen her? I barely even know what she looks like.”



“I thought she might have come to your house. Danny said she’d somehow gotten the notion that you and I were living together again. She implied that she intended to have it out with you.”



Sarah could feel a headache pulsing at her temples. “Why would she think that you and I are living together?”



He didn’t look at her. “I moved out.”



Sarah stared at him in astonishment. “Why didn’t you mention it? All the times we talked, you never said a word.”



“I wanted to tell you, but I had the impression it wasn’t something you cared to hear.”



“Your leaving her...I hope it didn’t have anything to do with me.”



“Of course it had something to do with you, Sarah. What did you think? This isn’t the time to get into that. All I want to do right now is find Cat.”



“Of course.” Sarah was still floored by the whole conversation. “Are you sure she didn’t just go off for a few days to be alone?”



“She’s not alone. Or at least she wasn’t. She went out with a friend on Saturday night. Neither of them has been seen since.”



“Is it possible they’ve gone off somewhere together?”



“The friend’s car was found right off North Rampart. Less than a block from your house.”



“And you think she was there to see me?”



“I don’t know what to think, at this point. A small amount of blood was found on the car door. It didn’t belong to her or the friend.”



“Then who did it belong to?”



His silence registered like a slap in the face. Sarah’s throat went dry. “You think it’s my blood?” she asked incredulously. “You think I had something to do with her disappearance?” She caught his arm, and when his gaze swung back to her, she recoiled. “Oh, my God. That is what you think.”



His eyes had gone cool and emotionless. Not the eyes of a former lover or even a worried husband. Sean was a cop now. “I’m just trying to piece together what happened. I thought it likely that she’d gone to see you, so I had a look around the house.”



“My house?”



“I wanted to see if I could find anything that would indicate she’d been there.” He had the grace to look slightly defensive. “I used my key to get in.”



“You mean my key. The one you never gave back. Did you find anything?”



“A shard of glass that had some blood on it.”



“That could have been there for ages,” she said.



“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” He paused. “Do you know what luminol is?”



“Of course I know what it is. I lived with a cop for two years, remember?”



“Sarah, I sprayed it in your bedroom and the whole place lit up.”



Her heart began to beat way too fast. She pressed a hand to her chest as if she could somehow slow the rhythm. “What are you talking about?”



“I found bloody footprints all over your bedroom.”



Sarah could feel the slow creep of horror through her veins. “That’s not possible. Unless the footprints have been there for years, too.”



“I don’t think so. The footprints were cloven. Just like we found on the first victim.”



“Oh, God.”



“Exactly,” Sean said. “You reacted the other night when I told you the second victim’s name. You recognized it. I saw it on your face. Holly Jessup. That name means something to you, doesn’t it?”



“I read about her disappearance in the paper. I told you that.”



“That’s what you said.”



“Sean, what’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that?”

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