“Never mind. Suit yourself, but I’m giving you the chance to clear out of this before things get worse.”
He purses his lips defiantly.
“If you’re worried about Henry, the place will be crawling with cops soon enough. I’ll be safe. And that’sifhe’s even managed to figure out where I am, which I doubt. I never told him anything about my family.”
“Make the call,” he says calmly. “I’ll wait.”
33Last Kiss
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say angrily, staring down the man who has my heart despite how many chunks have been taken from it.
Regis glances at the deputies he brought with him. They circle the body like ants, carefully recording every detail. Grabbing my arm, he pulls me several steps away. “Did you honestly think I would just go off to save my own ass and leave you behind at a time like this?”
I work my jaw. “Yes. I did. And I haven’t seen you, so I figured it worked.”
He frowns. “I’ve been out here every day looking for you, but it seemed like you just up and vanished. Where were you? What happened here?” he says under his breath.
“A man broke into the café and attacked me. By the looks of it, he’s the Saranac Strangler.” I lean in and mutter, “You can thank me later.”
His lips pinch with agitation. “Obviously. But how did he find you? And how did he end up with a bullet hole in his shoulder?”
I shrug, too tired to give him the details. “One of our customers shot him.” I would have expected a little more concern and little less interrogation, but once a sheriff, always a sheriff. I should have known he wouldn’t leave, not really. “Thankfully, I’m okay,” I say sarcastically.
He eyes Emil Reyes, where he sits in the corner being questioned by a lieutenant. “Kind of an odd tourist for these parts.”
I glance toward Emil, our eyes meeting briefly, and away. “Oh,I don’t know. He’s fit enough to hike these mountains. Said he was looking for some peace and quiet.”
Regis glowers. “He’s from the South. I don’t trust people from the South.”
“I’m from the South,” I remind him. “And he’s a cop. That should score some points with you.”
“From Charleston,” he adds under his breath. “Am I supposed to believe that’s a coincidence?”
“You can believe whatever you want,” I tell him. “I’ve told you the truth. Or as much of it as I’m willing to tell at the moment.”
He sighs, frustration tightening the muscles in his jaw, causing him to rub his eyes. “So that’s him,” he says, eyes pointed at the man lying dead on the floor.
“Yes. You’ll find the plastic bag and Vaseline he used to jerk off over there,” I say directing him with a finger. “There are tweezers in his pocket. The paracord and rebar are obvious. And this.” I lift my chin and point to my neck, where angry red skin circles it. “This should be evidence enough.”
“You need to go to the hospital,” he tells me.
I shake my head. “No. Not tonight.” I don’t explain that I’m still worried about my toxicity levels. That I fed so much I fear I’m not completely safe yet, even though I felt the magic draining away. That I don’t want to be poked and prodded by doctors ever again, knowing now I’m as much witch as woman. “I’ll go in a few days. I need a break.”
“Why were you in here in the middle of the night?” He looks down at me sternly, like I’m an unruly child.
“I couldn’t sleep at the cabin. It felt weird without Myrtle.” This, at least, is the truth.
He ducks his head, placing his hands on his hips as he stares at the floor.
“What are you going to do?” I ask. “About him?” I nod toward the Strangler.
“My job,” he says simply. Then, seeing the hurt in my face, he adds, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep them from digging too deep. Oncewe positively ID him, there’s a very good chance they’ll drop their questions. On the surface, it all adds up well enough. I’ll chalk the vomit up to shock from the gunshot.”
“What about the coroner?” I ask.
Regis looks down. “I don’t know what he’ll say is the cause of death. Certainly not a gunshot wound to the right shoulder. But I have no intention of pursuing it further. We got our guy, and that’s all that matters. I can protect you from this much.”
EMIL STOPS MEon the porch as I am reaching for the front doorknob of Myrtle’s cabin. “You sure you don’t want me to stay with you tonight? You’ve been through a trauma. It might help you feel safe.”
