Page 48 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
He lifted one hand in recognition and ran past her at a pace that made her feel like a sweaty underachiever.
She turned and ran backward—it was good exercise—and watched him.
“Wow.” For a ruthless, conniving asshole of an autocrat, he looked good, probably because he had time left over from impaling his competitors to exercise.
He rounded the corner and headed for town, and he didn’t turn to glance back.
“Damn it.” She slowed to a walk. She was looking at him, and he didn’t care to look at her. She turned to face forward, glimpsed movement out of the corners of her eyes.
A man hid in the hedges.
She leaped sideways, but too late.
He yanked her into the shadowy yard through a narrow gap in the towering boxwood.
She fought. Branches scraped her skin.
But he was powerful and skilled. He rendered her helpless, pulled her close and in a deep, familiar voice said, “Helen, I did warn that you couldn’t scream.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Gem Lounge hadn’t changed a bit. It looked—and smelled—exactly as it had when, as a child, Kateri had crept in nightly to bring her mother home. Years of spilled beer, squeezed limes, tomato juice and Tabasco, cracked vinyl, the dishwasher’s steam… and a whiff of tobacco.
Maybe Bertha wasn’t paying that much attention to the smoking ban.
The afternoon crowd was quiet, fishermen mostly, early risers, intent on playing cards, cracking peanuts, having a beer before going home to bed.
Kateri lifted a hand to the guys, went to the bar and pulled up a stool. Today Bertha wore black boots, black leggings, a black cardigan and a purple collared shirt. Kateri envied the woman her style.
“Hey, darlin’, good to see you here.” Bertha got out a mug, poured it full of almond milk and slid it into the microwave. “Did you decide I was right and this was a good place for that sheriff to visit?”
Kateri watched her, knowing what Bertha was doing, appreciating the tradition and right now, needing the comfort. “You’re always right, Bertha. Everybody knows that.”
Bertha smirked. “That’s true, and it’s amazing that people don’t always do what I tell them to do.”
“The world would be a better place.”
“Now take off your hat inside.”
Kateri complied, setting down her sheriff’s wide-brimmed hat on the bar.
“Hey, Sheriff.” Berk Moore slid into the seat beside her. “How’s Rainbow?”
“I haven’t been in to visit her yet today. Things got hectic.” An understatement. “But last night she was ’bout the same.”
“Sorry. Really. That sucks. Geeze. I can’t imagine…”the Oceanview Caféwithout her.He didn’t say it, but the words hung in the air.
Bertha whisked chocolate into the milk, topped it with marshmallow cream and slid it across the bar to Kateri. “How’s you?”
Kateri pressed her hand to her ribs. “’Bout the same. Sleeping in my own house, though. That makes me happy.” She pulled the hot chocolate close, sipped and sighed with pleasure. “So does this.”
“I know, darlin’.” Bertha was watching Kateri a little too closely.
“There’s nothing like your own bed,” Berk agreed.
Kateri licked the marshmallow cream off her upper lip. “Berk, how’s business?”
“Not much new construction. You know it’s about impossible to get permitted. But plenty of remodeling.” Berk owned a construction company in town. “With the dry summer weather, we’re hustling.”
