Page 19 of Dark Terror
“You’re interested in him!”
Even over the phone Cara heard the exclamation mark Lisa had put on the end of her sentence. “But I don’t want to be,” she said.
“Why the hell not? He sounds like just what you need.”
“He’s a cop, Lisa. Cops die.” She cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“For reminding you that David died. I know how much you loved him and what it did to you to lose him. I lost him, too, and I just can’t go through that again.”
“You listen to me, Cara Jenner. I wouldn’t give up one day of knowing David even if I knew he was going to die. Not one fucking day. My life is better for knowing him. So to say that you’d turn away from a man you could love the way I loved your brother really pisses me off. Yes, some cops die. That’s a sad fact. But not every cop does. Would you give David up as your brother if you knew he was going to die? Would you choose someone different for a brother if you were told he would live to a hundred years?”
She wanted to say yes, give her a brother who would outlive her so she wouldn’t have to miss him. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t give up David for any reason. “Sometimes I hate you,” she said, not sure she was happy Lisa’s arrow had hit the mark.
Lisa laughed. “No, you don’t. You stopped living when David died, hon. He wouldn’t have liked that. Go ahead and fall in love with your hot cop. Or just have a little fun with him. Doesn’t matter which, just pick one.”
They talked a few more minutes before disconnecting. Cara dropped her phone onto the coffee table as she stared unseeingly at the TV, barely noticing that the Rockies’ last at bat player hit a grand slam, winning the game. She did not want to fall in love with Gabe, but Lisa’s suggestion to have fun with him refused to leave her mind. Did she dare attempt something that was so not her? Or hadn’t been before discovering how much she liked green eyes framed by black glasses.
“Oh my,” she murmured to Cricket after deciding that Lisa’s advice to have a little fun had its merits. “Should I listen to her?”
Without agreeing one way or the other, Cricket jumped off the sofa and went to the sliding glass door.
“You need to go out?” The dog barked, which she took to be yes. After picking up her phone from the coffee table, she grabbed Cricket’s leash, clipping it onto his collar.
As she had before, she stayed near the open sliding glass door, ready to retreat at the first sign of trouble. Cricket’s energy amused her as she watched him dance over the lawn, his little nose checking out everything within his reach. A butterfly fluttered its wings inches from his face, catching his attention.
She grinned at the sight of him standing on his hind legs, trying to reach the butterfly. He was just too cute, and she clicked on the camera on her phone to get some pictures of him and the butterfly. After taking a good dozen or so photos as he played in the yard, she slipped her phone into her back pocket.
“Ready to go in?” she said after he lifted a leg on a bush. The sun was setting, and she wanted to get him in the house before it got dark. Suddenly he stilled with his ears lifted straight up, his gaze on her burning bushes. When he growled, she eyed the bushes but didn’t see what had his attention. Uncomfortable with being outside, she pulled on his leash, bringing him to her.
“You make me nervous when you growl like that. What were you looking at?” Probably a squirrel, she thought. She hoped. Safely locked back inside, she set the dog down, and he went to his food bowl. “Guess you’re hungry,” she said when he looked expectantly up at her.
After feeding him, she nuked some leftover vegetable soup for her dinner. As she ate, she scrolled through the pictures she’d taken of Cricket, smiling again at his fascination with the butterfly. Several shots had the burning bushes in the background, and she smiled, remembering how much her mom had loved the bushes and the way the leaves would turn a startling red in the late summer, almost looking as if they were on fire.
She put her finger on the screen to scroll to the next one but froze when she saw a pair of shoes sticking out from the bottom of the bushes. At first she thought it was only shoes, but taking a closer look, she could see the shoes were attached to legs. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she squinted, barely able to make out parts of a face higher up in the foliage.
Cricket had been barking at a man hiding in her yard!
* * *
Gabe was back at the station writing up his report of what they’d discovered so far. It wasn’t much, and on the surface it appeared that Sheri Carstad’s murder was a random act, a robbery gone wrong by someone looking for drug money. The problem with that theory was the way she’d been killed. Seven vicious knife slashes felt personal.
He started making a list of the things he and Harry needed to do, including interviewing the people Sheri Carstad worked with at Sherman, talking to her neighbors, and getting a warrant to obtain her bank records. His phone buzzed, Cara’s name showing on the screen. He glanced at the time above her name, surprised it was almost seven.
“Hey, Cara. I meant to call you earlier, but the time got away from me.” He frowned at hearing her harsh breaths. “Cara?”
“He was here. In my yard.”
“What?” He pushed away from his desk and looked around to see who was still here. Seeing Mason England, a fellow detective, he said, “Mason, tell dispatch to send the closest patrol to Cara Jenner’s house. Now.” He gave Mason the address, then tuned back in to what Cara was saying.
“…in a bush.”
“The man you saw this morning was in a bush? At your house?” He ran to the elevator, and when the door didn’t open as soon as he poked the button, he raced down the stairs.
“Y-Yes. He… he knows where I live.”
“Cara, breathe.” He listened to her suck in air. “Good. Now listen. A patrol car will be at your house in minutes. I’m on my way, but it will take me ten minutes to get there. Are your doors locked?”
