Eyewitness

Chapter Eleven

Fingernails clawed at his wrists. If he squeezed harder, he could vanquish his captor, get away, go home, find his angel.

“Kieran!”

Her voice called out to him. Desperate. Panicked. Choking.

His gaze focused on his prey, the blond hair spilling across his hands. Wide, blue eyes pleading with him. Soft lips formed into an O.

Devon. He wrenched the brutal hands from her slender throat. Rage and confusion pounded through his bloodstream. He stumbled back, clenching his fists and wrapping his arms around his body. An anguished cry surged from his belly and he bellowed like a wounded animal.

He continued lurching backward until he pinned himself in the far corner of the room. He stood like an animated statue, his chest heaving, the breath rasping through his lungs, his teeth grinding in rage at the animal he’d become.

Devon, looking more like an angel than ever with the light from the TV illuminating her from behind, extended her arms. Tears sparkled in her eyes and she took a tentative step forward.

“No!” Kieran thrust out his hands, warding her off, willing her to keep a safe distance.

“Kieran.”

“Stay away. Don’t come near me.”

She took another step and the filmy nightgown she wore swayed around her body. “It was a nightmare, Kieran. It’s over now. I know you’d never…”

“Hurt you? Kill you?” He forced the words from his dry mouth where they left a bitter taste like bile. “That’s exactly what I tried to do.”

“You’re not dreaming now.” She continued her progress toward him, gliding along the floor like a spirit. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He laughed and it came out like a snarl. “You should be.”

“You’re Kieran Roarke. I’m not afraid of Kieran Roarke.”

His muscles unclenched. His arms hung at his sides. He slid down the wall until he crouched on the floor, his shoulders slumping forward. “But who’s Kieran Roarke?”

A rustle of silk. A whiff of jasmine. And she was on the floor beside him. Her cool, delicate fingers brushed the hair from his eyes. “He’s a man of courage and integrity. He’s the father of my child.”

Anxiety pumped another load of adrenaline into his system, and his head shot up. “Michael. Where’s Michael?”

“He’s safe in his bed…thanks to you.” Her light fingers pressed against his temples. “You saved our lives in that bathroom, and you saved my life at Columbella House. That’s the Kieran Roarke I know.”

“And the one who just tried to kill you?” He closed his eyes, drawing in a long breath through his flared nostrils.

“That’s an aberration. A stumbling block on the way to your full recovery.”

“Helluva stumbling block. I’d call that a boulder.”

She half-laughed, half-sobbed, and he opened his eyes, his gaze zeroing in on the red marks on her neck. The evidence of his brutality punched him in the gut.

He raised one finger, willing it to hold steady as he traced a pinkish welt on her throat. Her pulse jumped beneath the pad of his finger.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “Shh.”

He kissed her fingertips and cinched her wrist with two fingers. Then he pressed his lips against the palm of her hand. He stretched out his legs and pulled her into his lap.

She straddled him, the hem of her skimpy nightgown hitching up to her shapely thighs. She wound her arms around his neck, shifting slightly toward him, so close he could see a small pulse beat in her lower lip.

The steady throb hypnotized him, and his own lips tingled with anticipation. He wanted to draw her nearer, thread his hands through her hair and bring her in for a kiss. But his fear of touching her head or the back of her neck paralyzed him.

He shrugged his shoulders off the wall, leaning forward. She got the hint and pulled him toward her. When their lips met, a fire ignited in his body and sizzled along every nerve ending.

She parted her mouth and sighed into his. With his hands still at his sides, he tilted his head, angling to seal his lips across hers. He wouldn’t make love to her. He couldn’t, even though his lower body raged against the common sense that prevailed in his head.

As he deepened the kiss, a bright light blazed through the window. He blinked.

Devon gasped and slid from his lap. “The sensor lights.”

Cursing, he scrambled to his feet and dragged his jeans from the back of the couch. He hopped on one foot and then the other, stuffing his legs into the pants. He reached beneath the couch for the.45 and shivered. Could he be trusted with this weapon in the dead of night when the nightmares took possession of him body and soul?

“Wait here.” He crowded Devon away from the front door.

He charged onto the porch, weapon drawn. A skittering noise near the bushes bordering one side of the house drew his attention. He landed on the grass, the damp blades sticking to his bare feet, jabbing between his toes.

Leveling the gun in front of him with two hands, he swung it toward the rattling twigs. Then he took aim at…an opossum.

The rat-like marsupial glared at him, its beady eyes iridescent in the floodlights. Its nose twitched once before it burrowed into the bushes, probably heading for the sand dunes beyond the tract of houses.

“What is it, Kieran?” Devon had thrown on a terry cloth robe, hiding all her silky temptations. She hovered on the porch, legs crossed and one foot on top of the other.

“An opossum.”

“Ugh. I hate those things. At least we know the lights work.”

A window next door scraped open and a voice yelled into the night. “Turn off those damned lights or I’ll call the cops.”

Devon giggled, and Kieran ducked back inside the house, pulling her with him.

“The lights work, and your mom has sensitive neighbors. That should be enough to ward off any intruders.” He shoved the loaded weapon beneath the couch. “Now get back to bed and try to get some sleep.”

Dropping her eyelashes, she tugged at the sash around her waist. “D-do you need company? I know you’re not going back to sleep.”

“One of us better be wide awake and alert for Michael tomorrow.”

“Are you feeling okay, Kieran? Could you use an ibuprofen, aspirin, a drink?”

“I’ll settle for an old movie. How about you? Is your neck okay?”

She twisted her head from side to side. “Seems to be in working order.”

“Good night, then.” He settled on the couch as Devon marched toward the hallway, her gait stiff. He whispered to her ramrod straight back. “I’m sorry…my love.”

DEVON STRETCHED AND squinted at the sunshine sneaking through the gap between her bedroom curtains. Once inside, the rays had taken up residence in a thin line that pointed an accusing finger at her bed. Her head lolled to the side, and she swiped at the alarm clock, its numbers facing away from her.

She huffed out a breath and rubbed the sleep from the corners of her eyes. Michael had never allowed her to sleep this late before. He’d come charging into her bedroom, full of some scheme or plan for the day.

Of course, that was before Granny Del’s murder. Granny Del, the bank robber’s widow. Her pulse picked up to a rapid staccato beat. Even after Mrs. Del Vecchio’s murder, Michael never slept this late.

She scrambled out of bed and dragged her ratty robe over her nightgown. While wearing her sexiest nightie, she’d failed miserably at seducing Kieran last night, so she might as well be warm and comfortable.

She twisted the handle of the door, which she’d left ajar last night. Had Kieran shut her door in some misguided attempt to protect her from him? Even when he’d had his hands around her throat, she’d known he could never hurt her.

Pots and pans clanged and wisps of steam carried buttery smells throughout the house. She turned the corner and surveyed the kitchen, the sink piled with dirty dishes, batter dripping a bumpy path down the cabinet door.

Michael, standing on a chair at the counter, turned to wave floury fingers in her direction.

Kieran lifted the lid of the waffle iron and speared a fluffy, golden sphere. He dropped it onto a plate piled with identical mates and gave Michael a high five. “Another perfect waffle.”

“I hope your cooking is better than your cleaning.” She braced her knuckles on her hips.

“Cleaning?” Kieran waved a hand at the sink. “We’re master chefs. We don’t worry about cleaning.”

“I suppose I can strike a deal with you.” She approached Michael and dabbed a smudge of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. “What’s on the menu?”

Kieran pointed his fork at the steaming plate. “Waffles-chocolate chip or blueberry.”

“Mmm, sounds yummy. I can definitely clean up in exchange for a few waffles.” She grabbed some plates from the cupboard, throwing a sidelong glance at Kieran. If he had stayed awake the rest of the night, he didn’t look any worse for it. Sure, black stubble dotted his chin and his longish hair stuck out at odd angles, but he’d always looked best as his rugged, natural self. Although he cleaned up pretty nicely, too.

He took the plates from her hands, brushing her fingers with his. “Are you still tired? Thought I’d let you sleep in.”

“I appreciate it.” She shook her head, dislodging the visions of Kieran from her brain. He didn’t want her. He’d made that clear last night…after the kiss. After his terrifying sleepwalking incident.

Did he think he could tell her what to do for her own good? She had her own plans, and they didn’t include tiptoeing around the man she loved because of a few bad dreams.

Did she still love him?

She watched him return to Michael. He gave that twisted grin as he scooped his son from the chair and carried him to the table under one arm. Hell yes, she still loved him, and she planned to fight for that love.

Fifteen minutes later, Michael stuffed the last forkful of waffle into his mouth and licked his lips.

Devon pointed to the napkin in his lap, hanging toward the floor. “Use that, and then get dressed and brush your teeth. You’re going to visit Dr. Elena today.”

She studied her son’s face for any anxiety, or any more anxiety than he’d been exhibiting since the murder, but he just dragged the napkin across his mouth and dropped it on his plate before pushing back from the table.

Kieran started running water in the sink for the dishes and squirted a line of yellow liquid into the stream from the faucet. “I need to brush my teeth, too. I’ll meet you in the bathroom, Michael.”

“Go now.” Devon flicked her fingers at him. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

As Kieran turned to follow Michael, Devon put a hand on his forearm. “Maybe you should think about keeping some of your stuff here so we don’t have to keep running over to your parents’ place every morning.”

The muscles in his arm tensed, creating rippling cords beneath her fingers. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Last night…”

“Last night you had a nightmare.”

“I almost strangled you. God knows what I would’ve done to Michael if I’d come upon him in his bed.”

She swiped her fingers through the air as if wiping away his words. “I don’t believe you’d harm either one of us.”

He reached out and the suddenness of the movement caused her to flinch backward. With his eyelid half closed he traced a line on her throat. “But I did harm you.”

“You stopped when you woke up. It’s not something you would do in a conscious state.”

“You don’t know that. Hell, I don’t know that.”

Her pulse pumped beneath the pad of his finger, sending hot-blooded anger coursing through her veins. She shoved her index finger against his solid chest. “I do know that. You may have lost your memory, Kieran, but I still have mine. You wouldn’t hurt anyone you lov…cared about. It’s not in you.”

They stood almost nose to nose, in each other’s face. A muscle twitched in his tightened jaw, and Devon could almost hear his teeth grinding.

“You don’t know what’s in me anymore, Devon. I’m a changed man.”

“In your mind.” She rapped on her head with her knuckles. “Stop saying it, stop trying to convince yourself. You’re the same man. You did what you had to do to survive.”

“If you knew…”

A high-pitched scream cut off Kieran’s words, and they both jerked their heads around at the same time.

Michael, framed in the kitchen entryway, hands pressed against his ears, screamed again, his mouth a gaping hole in his face.

The sound plunged a dagger in Devon’s heart and she spun around and fell to her knees in front of him. She gathered him in her arms. “It’s okay, Michael. Everything’s okay. Kieran and I were just talking.”

“Oh, great.” Kieran lunged for the kitchen faucet, almost slipping on the water that had dripped to the floor from the overflowing sink.

Devon left him to clean up that mess while she carried Michael to his bedroom to clean up another kind of mess. How could they be so insensitive to argue in front of him? He’d just discovered his father, and now he had the tension of arguing parents. He didn’t need tension right now.

She sat on the edge of his bed and snuggled him into her lap. At least he’d dropped his hands from his ears. “It’s okay. Kieran and I were just talking about something important. We’re not mad at each other.”

“Daddy.”

Devon’s heart almost stopped beating in her chest. She swallowed a huge lump in her throat. “That’s right. Daddy.”

“Did I hear my name?”

Kieran stepped into the room, dwarfing the pint-size furniture, a wet dish towel bunched in his hands. “Sorry your mom and I got carried away. Grown-ups do that sometimes. You can talk to Dr. Elena today about how that made you feel.”

Michael shook his head from side to side.

Kieran sat next to Devon on the bed, and the mattress dipped, forcing her and Michael to slide toward him.

“You know, you can tell Dr. Elena everything. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to see her right after you, and I’m going to tell her everything that’s bothering me.”

“Your eye?” Michael pointed to his own eye.

“Yep. I’m going to tell her about my eye and about all kinds of other things.”

Tears pricked behind Devon’s lids as she met Kieran’s gaze above Michael’s head. He was going to try to get his nightmares under control. Maybe Michael had reminded him that he needed to make the effort instead of just accepting that he was some kind of monster.

Kieran sprang off the bed. “We’d better get going if we want to make it to Dr. Elena’s office on time.”

Devon swung by Kieran’s place, and a smile curved her lips when he jogged down the porch steps with a black duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

She popped her trunk from inside the car, and he loaded the bag in the back.

Cruising into downtown, Devon parked the car on the other side of the office buildings, away from the burned-out restrooms. If Michael associated Elena’s office with the bombing of the bathroom, he didn’t show it.

They climbed up the back stairs and pushed through the office door. Elena waved them in while she continued talking to a man, his shoulder propped up against the inner office door. When he turned, Devon recognized him as Elena’s date from last night.

He gave a brief nod and turned back to Elena. “I’ll see you later.”

He sidled out of the room without acknowledging them further, most likely trying to honor the confidentiality of Elena’s doctor-patient relationship. Guess the cat was out of the bag now that at least one of them was Elena’s client.

“Nice to see you again, Michael.” Elena smiled at Michael and jerked her chin at the closed door. “That was Sam from last night. He moved into the office a few doors down… Accountant.”

“My session with Michael is one hour today, so you can wait in here or take a walk.”

Kieran grabbed a magazine from the rack and settled into a chair. “We’ll wait in here today.”

Devon took a position in the corner of a love seat and said, “We’ll be right out here, Michael.”

Elena ushered Michael into the office while Devon slid a magazine from the table and flipped through it for several minutes. She glanced up several times, but Kieran seemed intent on his wildlife magazine.

Finally, she tossed the magazine onto the cushion beside her. “So, do you think he’s telling her all about his awful parents and how they were arguing this morning?”

Without looking up from his reading material, Kieran said, “I hope so. That’s the point, isn’t it?”

Devon chewed on her bottom lip. “We weren’t even raising our voices, were we? It didn’t seem that bad to me.”

“For us it was a tense discussion. For Michael-” he shrugged “-who knows what was going through his head?”

Kieran still had his nose buried in the magazine, so Devon tried reading hers again, her ears tuned to every sound from Elena’s inner sanctum. She and Kieran had decided to wait for Michael in the office today, but being right outside that door made her more nervous than being away from the office.

The outer door inched open, and Kieran jerked his magazine down to peer over the top.

With her heart pounding, Devon raised her brows at him, as he patted the inside pocket of his jacket where he’d stowed his weapon. The door slowly eased open. Sam poked his head through the crack and Devon released a pent-up breath.

“I’m sorry. I think I left my card key to the tenant underground parking garage in here.”

“Is this it?” Kieran peeled a white, plastic card from the glass-topped table next to him and held it up between two long fingers.

“Thanks.” Sam stepped forward and took the card. “I was hoping it was out here. I need to get my car out of the garage, but of course I wouldn’t have disturbed Dr. Estrada while she was with a client.”

After he snapped the door behind him, Devon shrugged. “Well, I guess he knows which one of us is Elena’s patient now.”

“Do you care?”

“Not really. I think it’s a lot harder for therapists in small towns to keep that confidentiality thing going.”

He folded back his magazine. “She’s dating the guy. Don’t you think she’s going to tell him everything anyway?”

“Elena’s ethical. I don’t think so.” She wedged her feet on the table in front of her. “Are you concerned about that?”

“I figure everyone in town has gotta know I have issues after being imprisoned for that long.” He pointed to the magazine. “I want to finish this article before Michael comes out.”

Devon jumped up and paced the small outer office. Several minutes and three turns around the carpet later, the door swung open and a smiling Michael, clutching a lollipop, exited with Elena close on his heels.

“Until next time, Michael.”

He galloped toward Devon and held up his candy. The galloping was more in line with Michael’s typical mode of movement than the floating he’d been doing lately. Galloping was a good sign.

Kieran stood up and stretched. “My turn now.”

Michael walked to Kieran and tugged on his pocket. When Kieran looked down, Michael held up his lollipop still in its wrapper.

“That’s okay, Michael. You keep that one for yourself and I’ll get my own from Dr. Elena.”

Kieran turned at the door. “You’re going to wait here, right?”

“We’ll be here.” Devon patted the side of her large bag. “I brought a few things to occupy Michael while we wait, and Elena has a toy chest in the closet.”

Kieran and Elena disappeared into her office, and Devon sighed and slumped in one of the chairs. Elena had to help Kieran overcome these nightmares or he’d never trust himself at night alone with her and Michael.

She unzipped her bag and pulled out a puzzle and an easy reader. Michael had been working on sounding out letters before the murder. She held up both. “Which one?”

He pointed to the puzzle and she opened the box and dumped the chunky pieces out on the table for him. He sat cross-legged in front of the table and lined up the pieces in order according to color.

Devon grabbed the celebrity gossip magazine again since that’s about all her mind could handle right now. She didn’t hear any agonizing screams from the office, so maybe Elena hadn’t put Kieran under today.

A half an hour into the session, Devon’s cell phone chirped once. She slipped it out of her pocket and checked the display-a text message from Detective Marquette. Her breath quickened as she punched a button to read the entire message.

Can’t talk in a mtg with cops. Meet me in 15 min in alley behind pizza place under blue awning.

What was Detective Marquette still doing in town? Devon checked the time on her phone and glanced at the closed door. There was only one pizza place in Coral Cove, Vinnie’s Pizza, near the police station.

Kieran didn’t want her out and about on her own, but she had her pepper spray and she was meeting a detective. He must have something new to tell her about Mrs. Del Vecchio’s murder, or maybe Chief Evans had divulged something to Detective Marquette about the threats against her.

She scrambled through her purse for a pen and a piece of paper. She found the receipt for her tires and scribbled a note on the back, giving Kieran her location for the meeting with Detective Marquette.

She slid the note between the door and the doorjamb, propping it against the door handle, and then leaned over the table where Michael was playing. “We’re going to meet a friend by the pizza place and then maybe Kier…Daddy can meet us there for lunch when he’s done.”

Michael helped her sweep the puzzle pieces into the box, and they left the office. The pizza place was close enough to walk there in ten minutes, so Devon grabbed Michael’s hand and joined the tourists milling along Coral Cove’s main drag. Safety in numbers.

She spotted the red-and-white-striped awning of Vinnie’s up ahead and knew they had an identical awning in the back on the alley it shared with the police station and a few other Main Street shops.

Marquette had probably parked in the back and wanted to meet with her before he drove back to the city. Must be something he didn’t want the Coral Cove P.D. to hear.

She turned the corner of the street before Vinnie’s and headed into the alley where a breeze ruffled the ends of her hair. The buildings on the east side blocked the sun, creating a cool, shaded refuge from the heat.

A car crawled toward her, and she swept Michael up in her arms and sidled along the brick facade of the buildings. The blue minivan cruised past and turned onto Main Street.

Scaffolding blocked Devon’s way, so she stepped back into the middle of the alley again. Workers had been replacing the bricks along the tops of the buildings in this row and the red slate tile roofs.

She strode toward Vinnie’s red awning and glanced both ways as she parked herself and Michael under the flapping canvas. She must’ve beat Detective Marquette out of his meeting. She zeroed in on the beige door, which led into the back of the police station farther down the alley.

Another couple of pedestrians passed, using the alley to head into the back door of another business. At least Detective Marquette had picked a fairly populated place for their meeting, or maybe he thought Kieran would be with them.

Would the detective have called her out for a meeting if he had known she’d be solo? She rolled her shoulders back a few times, and smiled at a woman pushing a stroller through the alley toward the park on the other end. It wasn’t as if this was some deserted spot in the dead of night.

As the woman and the stroller turned out of the alley, Devon licked her lips, her gaze darting back and forth. Maybe it wasn’t a deserted spot in the dead of night, but she wished Marquette would hurry up or she’d go into the police station to get him…whether he wanted this meeting hush-hush or not.

KIERAN FELT BETTER already, and he hadn’t even undergone hypnosis yet. He folded the prescription for the sleep aid Dr. Estrada had given him and stuffed it in his pocket. She’d assured him that the drug would knock him out cold at night-no chance for sleepwalking.

He planned to test it out tonight. Of course, if he was out cold and someone threatened the house or its occupants, how could he be any help to Devon and Michael? He’d have to figure it out.

“So we’ll try the hypnosis next time?” He shook hands with Dr. Estrada.

“Yes. That should really help your memories come back, since they seem to be slipping through bit by bit already.” She opened the door of her office and a piece of paper floated to the floor.

Kieran crouched down to retrieve it for her and on his way up, he peered into the empty waiting room. His heart thumped against his ribs as he handed the paper to Dr. Estrada.

She glanced at him over the top edge of the paper. “This is for you.”

He snatched the paper from her hands, and then crumpled it in his fist. Why would she go out? He closed his eyes and dragged in a breath. It was daytime and she was on her way to meet a homicide detective. He couldn’t stay chained to her side.

“Do you know where this alley is?”

“It cuts through Main Street to the park, behind the police station. When you get out to Main Street, hang a left and it’s the second alley on your right. It’s more like a little through-way than an alley.”

He thanked her for the session and despite himself, jogged down the stairs to the sidewalk. He noticed Devon’s car still parked on the street, so she must’ve walked.

Once on Main Street, he weaved between the tourists window shopping. He saw the sign for Vinnie’s Pizza and cut down the street before it. Then he ran to the entrance of the alley. Panting, he stuttered to a stop and surveyed the alley.

A small van trundled toward him, a few surfboards strapped to the roof. A couple of boys careened past on skateboards and jumped over the cement steps behind a business.

His chest heaved and his breathing slowed. He located the red and white awning for Vinnie’s. He waved. “Devon!”

Two faces turned toward him, and then his hand froze in the air and his blood ran cold.