Double Take - Catherine Coulter [75]
His last thought before he fell asleep, his face against Ruth’s hair, was about Christie. I’m going to find out what happened to you, Christie. I’m going to find you justice. And then I’m going to let Ruth share my heart with you.
CHAPTER 36
Cheney stood at the front window of his condo, leaning to his left so he could manage a glimpse of his partial view of the Golden Gate. Julia was asleep on his sofa, sprawled on her back. He was glad she’d wanted to come home with him, away from the media, the crime scene tape, the neighbors, and maybe another visit from Makepeace. Suddenly she said clearly, in an anguished voice, “Linc, oh Jesus, no! Linc!”
She began to sob, deep wrenching sobs, and she wept, saying over and over, “Linc, oh no, please Linc. Don’t leave me. No!”
He gathered her up, rocked her. “Julia, wake up. You’re okay, it was a nightmare. Come on, wake up.”
She did immediately, staring up at him in the dim moonlight coming through the front window.
“You had a nightmare. You’re okay now.”
It took her a moment to gain control. “Thank you, Cheney. I guess with all the stress, those nightmares are slipping right in.”
He wondered how often she dreamed of Linc, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “You want some warm milk or something?”
She managed a grin. “No, I want to go back to sleep. Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I’m too hyped up, I guess. I’ll go sack out soon now.”
“You’re afraid he’ll come here, aren’t you?”
“My address wouldn’t be all that hard to find out. Thanks to Captain Paulette, there’s a squad car down the block keeping an eye on the place. It wouldn’t be Xavier’s best move to try it. Actually, it’d be nuts.”
“He is nuts.” She shivered. Without thought, he pulled her close again, felt her hair against his face.
She said against his neck, “Can you believe Kathryn wondered if we were lovers? I haven’t even known you a week.”
He was silent, thinking she didn’t sound at all angry or alarmed, perhaps only surprised, maybe even curious. She was wearing one of his white undershirts, and it was falling off her shoulder.
Julia said, “You didn’t believe anything she said, did you?”
He was aware that she smelled of something soft and flowery. “Fact is, she could have heard or deduced most of it and guessed the rest. Pretty commonsense stuff, all dressed up with purple prose—that’s what I thought when she said it. ‘His core was black, his pride was purple’—and the bit about his aching feet, come on, give me a break.”
“When you say it, away from her drama and atmosphere, it does sound like some ridiculous tale a good storyteller could spin.”
Cheney said, “She’s some showman. I suppose that’s her greatest skill.”
“But she did say she thought he had an author’s name.”
He frowned. “Yes, she did say that.”
She yawned. “You’re still dressed.”
“Yes.”
He leaned down and pulled her blanket over her. “Go back to sleep, Julia.”
Sean Savich’s eyes popped open. Something didn’t smell right. That was it, he wasn’t in his own bed or in his own room. He was someplace else, someplace scary. He knew a monster was hiding in the closet. The monster could see his bed, could see him. He was sure the door was slowly pushing open and he nearly stopped breathing. Even though Graciella had showed him there were only clothes and shoes in the closet, he knew she didn’t understand, didn’t know what he knew. This wasn’t his closet, so he knew Graciella couldn’t see the monster; it hid itself until she closed the door. And then it waited a long time before it slowly oozed out from its hiding place in the closet wall and tasted his clothes, getting his scent. The monster was coming out of the closet now, and it was bad.
Even though Graciella was sleeping in a twin bed not ten feet away from him, it wasn’t enough. No