The Shore (Leisure Fiction)

Maybe all I care about is a chance to take the killer down myself. What would that get me anyhow? She shrugged the thought away. Out of here? Is that what I want?

She found him sitting in the armchair, his face buried in her notes, and she walked past without speaking. Finding her slippers, she headed back into the kitchen.

Moments later, cooking odors twined through the warm air. Or do I just want him? She'd pulled the curtains aside, and the last of the light pooled in the center of the table where the cat fitfully purred. 'Who said you could sleep on the table?' But the cat just lifted its head, squinting at her. The electric clock on the wall whirred softly. It seemed a reassuring noise, so normal, making nonsense of all their talk of monsters. In the next room, a chair scraped, and a few seconds later she heard the shower. Slicing onions and peppers, she prepared an omelet for them, annoyed with herself at the amount of effort she put into it, disgusted with her own transparent need to impress him with her domestic skills.

The cat slid off the edge of the table and leapt to the windowsill. 'What do you want from me, cat? This never letting me out of your sight business is getting on my nerves. You're not hungry. You won't let me pet you.' She moved to the old china cabinet and got out her best dishes and linen. 'So what is it?'

The cat's tail tapped the wall in a restless oval.

'We should start with these cottages on the outskirts of town,' he said, his fingers tracing a column of addresses. 'The ones most likely not to attract attention. We need to go back to the Chandler house too--just to check--periodically. See if anybody shows up.'

Her hand glided above the table, started for the salt, then the water glass, hesitated and returned to her lap. 'This is what it's all about for you.'

He poured himself another cup of coffee.

'This search. Everything else...just a means to an end.'

He chewed mechanically.

'What happened to you? What could make a person like this?'

'I shouldn't have touched you.' Finally, he faced her. 'Taking warmth from you. I don't have the right.' He forced his attention back to his plate. 'What? Were you going to say something?' His hand dropped to the table with a thud. A moment later, he tried to smile. 'I'm sorry. Was this for the cat?'

'Shut up. It's tofu. It's good for you.'

He prodded the omelet with his fork. 'No sprouts?'

'Don't try to be funny.' She snatched the list off the table. 'It scares me worse than anything when you're charming.' She studied the page. 'You know, these places will all be locked up tight for the winter. How do you intend checking them out?'

He forked another bit of omelet into his mouth.

'Oh.' She picked up her coffee mug, almost brought it to her lips, set it down again. 'We're going to do some more breaking and entering, right?' Her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. 'Didn't take you long, did it?'

He swallowed glumly. 'What?'

'To turn me into an outlaw.'

'Like me, you mean?'

Her shoulders pressed back, and her arms stiffened.

'Can't you trust me just a little longer, Kit?' Veins in his temples bulged, and the muscles under his shirt twitched visibly. 'Can't you believe we're doing this for the right reasons?'

'How can I believe anything you say?' She covered her face with her hands. 'What's wrong with me? Monsters. Am I crazy too? There aren't any rules for this, no departmental directives.'

'You're right about one thing. I can't do this alone, Kit. Help me, please.' He stroked her arm. 'I've told you everything I can.' He stood up. 'It's your call. I'll go if you want me to.'

'And?'

'And try on my own.'

'I don't know what I'm doing,' she said. 'I'm scared. And I probably am falling in love with you. God help me.' Silence thundered in the room. 'Did you hear what I said?'

'I haven't even thought words like those in a long time.' He stood close beside her, and his hand smoothed the delicate tendrils of hair at the back of her neck. 'I'm not sure what they mean anymore.'

She pressed her face damply into his shirt.

'C'mon, Kitten.' He stroked her back. 'We've got work to do.'

XVIII

Motion washed over him, and bare trees banded the gray sky. For a moment, it seemed they might be going anywhere at all, away, to safety; then her voice brought him back.

'...used to be the best section of town.' She maneuvered them through the narrow streets. 'Did you nod off?' Surreptitiously, she checked herself in the rearview mirror. She'd worn the green scarf in hopes that it would bring out the color of her eyes. It didn't, she decided. 'Used to get the highest rents.'

He noticed she wore earrings today, the first jewelry he'd seen on her, and the tiny gold circles glinted dimly as she turned her head to peer down the street.

'Stands to reason the Chandlers would own half the properties here,' she said as she parked the jeep and zipped her jacket.

They walked briskly down the block, side by side under the trees, neither quite looking at the other. At the top of the bluff, majestic homes commanded an imposing view of the sea.

'Used to?' Wind tore at the flesh of his face.

'What?'

'Used to be the best?'

'When I was a kid,' she explained, 'these were the summer homes of rich people. After that, they started to rent by the season, but you had to know somebody. These days, the owners are lucky to get tenants at the height of the season. If it wasn't for this wind, I'd walk you down. Used to be our nicest beach. Nothing but rocks now. And during a storm...hell. See that watermark way up there on that porch?'

'Jesus.'

'This town's never coming back.' She shrugged. 'So what am I doing here?'

Withered gardens tightly encircled the first three properties they visited. As they tested doors and peered through windows, she watched him, beginning to comprehend the extent to which he operated by instinct.

'Doesn't look like anybody's been at this one either. Three strikes,' he grunted. 'Let me see that list.' Slowly, they drove back toward the center of town and passed the next place several times before parking on the opposite side of the street. For a moment, they remained in the jeep. The three-story houses had porches on each level, like shelves, empty flower boxes clinging to each of the ornate railings. Identical structures ranged up and down both sides of the street.

'This time, let me go alone.' She put a hand on his arm. 'Just stay in the jeep. It only makes sense. If somebody spots me, I can say I'm checking out a report of prowlers or something.'

'You're out of uniform.' A smile whisked across his face. 'But you're getting good at this.'

She thought he sounded sad. 'Anyway, it'll make me feel less like I'm just along for the ride,' she told him.

'If you see anything...'

'You'll be the first to know,' she said.

The door slammed before he could respond, and he watched her stride across the street and study the house. What have I done to her? The set of her shoulders struck him as both proud and innocent, suggesting a determined youngster. Too late to start feeling guilty now. Suddenly, she headed around the side of the building. What the hell is she doing? He opened the door and almost stepped out. With a tearing noise, the wind sliced itself through the branches of a small tree. All right, so she's checking windows. After a moment, he pounded his fist on the dash. Where is she? What's taking so long?