Part 13 (1/2)

”Jazzy told me yesterday afternoon that the guy's got a thing for Genny and that you don't like him.”

Butler harrumphed. ”Let's just say that Mr. MacKinnon and I don't see eye to eye on several things.”

”Including his relations.h.i.+p with Genny?”

Butler studied Dallas closely. ”I think he's obsessed with her. That bothers me.”

”What does Genny think?”

”Maybe you should ask Genny.” Butler lifted his coffee mug.

Before Dallas could comment, Tiffany brought his breakfast, laid his bill on the table, and hurried to take Brian MacKinnon his first cup of coffee.

Butler stood. He lifted his brown leather jacket from the seat, slipped into it, then picked up his Stetson and placed it on his head. ”When you finish up here, come on over to the office and we'll compile a list of all the men who have moved into Cherokee County in the past six or seven months.” Removing his wallet from his pocket, Butler took out three dollars and laid them on the table for a tip, then picked up his bill.

”Yeah, okay.” With a smart sheriff like Butler in charge, maybe they had a chance to catch the killer. Dallas had Butler pegged as one of the good guys-someone he could trust.

Before Butler reached the cas.h.i.+er, who did double duty as one of the waitresses, he paused and called out to Dallas. ”I checked on Genny this morning. She's fine. And she said to tell you h.e.l.lo.”

Dallas tried not to react. He nodded to acknowledge he'd heard Butler, who glanced across the restaurant at Brian MacKinnon, then looked away, paid his bill, and headed out the door. Dallas's gaze made contact with MacKinnon's. Instantly he felt the hatred seething inside the man. Had Butler made the comment about Genny to rile MacKinnon? If he had, his ploy had worked.

When Tiffany came to his table to refill his mug, Dallas asked, ”Exactly who is Mr. MacKinnon?”

”Brian MacKinnon is the owner of the Cherokee Pointe Herald and our local TV station, WMMK,” she said. ”And his daddy is Mr. Farlan MacKinnon, one of the richest men in these parts. They live in that big old Victorian mansion over on Bethel Street.”

”I see. Thanks.” Dallas finished his breakfast, left Tiffany a nice tip, paid his bill, and avoided making eye contact with MacKinnon as he left the restaurant.

He didn't know Brian MacKinnon from Adam, but if Sheriff Butler thought the guy was obsessed with Genny, that alone was reason for Dallas to dislike him. Obsession was a dangerous thing. He should know. He'd come d.a.m.n close to becoming obsessed with finding Brooke's killer. Only by sheer will, coupled with his years of training and experience as a federal agent, had he been able to stop himself from crossing the line between ruthless determination and obsession. If MacKinnon wanted Genny and he had crossed the line from wanting her to being obsessed with having her, then he could become dangerous.

He had waited in her Vega all night and had given up hope that she would leave the sheriff's place before dawn; but just when he'd started to leave, she came sneaking down the stairs. The morning sun had been rising in the eastern sky. Too late to sacrifice her today. He had experienced several moments of indecision. Should he let her go or should he take her? He never chose his first four victims. He allowed Fate to make those choices. It had seemed to him that Fate had placed Misty Harte directly into his hands; and he wasn't a man to go against Fate. He'd learned at an early age the importance of the unexpected and the unexplainable, and the power of the cosmic forces that ruled the universe.

After tying and gagging Misty and depositing her in the bas.e.m.e.nt, he had disposed of her little yellow car, parking it behind an abandoned service station less than half a mile from town. It had been an easy walk back into Cherokee Pointe; and not one single soul had seen him, because he'd been very careful. He was always careful.

The bas.e.m.e.nt was the perfect place to keep her. No one ever came down here. He could keep her for several days, if he wanted to prolong his enjoyment. He had found from past experience that when he kept a woman for more than a few hours, it was best to drug her heavily. Sedated, they didn't put up a fight. He didn't want any telltale scratches on his arms or face.

Using the towel he had taken with him on his second trip to visit his captive, he wiped his p.e.n.i.s, then pulled up his briefs and pants. He glanced down at the naked woman tied to the cot and smiled when he saw his s.e.m.e.n glistening on her belly.

He would shower, shave, and dress a little later, before beginning his day. Around noon he'd have to come back down here and give Misty another injection. Although she was gagged and securely tied, he didn't want to take any chances. Over the years, while he'd been seeking his ultimate goal, not one law enforcement agency in any state had even come close to catching him. He had outsmarted them all. And he'd do it again. Jacob Butler was an intelligent man, but he was nothing more than an inexperienced sheriff in a backwoods Tennessee county. He'd have no better luck than the others had in discovering the killer of five local women.

But what about the FBI agent? What the h.e.l.l was he doing in Cherokee Pointe? The Bureau didn't get involved in cases like this unless the locals requested a.s.sistance. And even then Bureau involvement was restricted to providing investigative resources. Had Butler called in the Feds?

He would have to be very careful. No mistakes. He couldn't afford for anything to go wrong. After all these years of searching, he had finally found her. The one who could give him what he desired most in this world.

Dropped off at Genny's house by the MacKinnons' chauffeur, Wallace had arrived at Cherokee Nurseries a little late. It had taken Genny a good ten minutes to a.s.sure Wallace she wasn't upset with him. Sweet Wallace. If everyone were as kind and gentle as he, the world would be a far better place. The old man had been a part of her life as far back as she could remember, having worked for Granny Butler since his youth. He was extraordinarily fond of Genny, as she was of him. She thought of Wallace as family. Over the years she'd had occasion to meet the other members of the MacKinnon family, although their social circles seldom mixed. Mr. Farlan was a nice enough man, if you liked the old-fas.h.i.+oned, ruler-of-all-I-survey type. Miss Veda was never friendly, but neither was she rude. The few times Genny had actually been in the grande dame's presence, she had sensed a terrible sadness in the woman. Genny suspected that Veda MacKinnon had never been truly happy a day in her life.

And then there was Brian, the only son, the heir apparent. He was much older than Genny, and their paths had seldom crossed until a few years ago. When Wallace had broken a leg and been hospitalized, Farlan had sent Brian to handle the situation. And that's where she'd actually met Brian for the first time. Although they'd never met before, she'd always known who he was-and that he had a reputation for being a heartless b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

For some reason, Brian had become smitten with her, and she had to admit that at first she'd been flattered by his attention. It wasn't as if she hadn't been pursued before. She had. But never with such dogged determination. Even the rumors about her being a witch like her grandmother hadn't scared Brian away.

She certainly didn't love him, and there were times she didn't like him. But she sensed how desperately he needed her. Even Wallace had commented on what a good influence she was on his nephew. So how could she turn Brian away completely? But she had never lied to him-had never given him any false hopes.

”I want us to be friends,” she'd told him as he'd held her hand.

He'd brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. ”I want that, too. I want us to become good friends. I'm a patient man, Genevieve. I can wait for you as long as it takes.”

Genny shook her head, dislodging thoughts of Brian. Lately he had begun to unnerve her with his relentless attention, but Jacob had spoken to him and that seemed to have cooled his ardor. At least temporarily. She suspected that Jacob, in his own strong, unemotional way, had threatened Brian. Jacob was not a man for subtleties.

”What's the matter, Genny?” Wallace asked as he carried their lunchtime dishes from the table and placed them in the sink.

Genny glanced at him and smiled. ”Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking.”

”About what?”

”About Jacob.”

”I like Jacob. He's a good man.”

Genny lifted her hand and laid it on Wallace's shoulder. ”He has a very difficult job, you know. With two murders to solve and no suspects.”

”Why would anybody hurt those women?” Wallace asked guilelessly.

Genny squeezed his shoulder. ”I don't know. But I do know that there is great evil involved in those deaths.”

”Couldn't you have one of your visions and see who the killer is?”

Genny sighed. ”I wish it was that simple.” She rinsed off the dishes and began placing them in the dishwasher. ”I have no control over my visions.”

Wallace patted her back. ”It's all right. It's not your fault you can't see who the killer is. Melva Mae always said her visions were a curse more than a blessing.”

”Granny was right about that.” Genny finished stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, then added detergent and closed the door. ”Come on. We need to get those herbs s.h.i.+pped out today. We'll finish packing them, and you can take them by the FedEx office in town on your way home.”

”I thought you were going to check the drying shed first,” Wallace said. ”Isn't Miss Sally coming by later to help with the packing?”

”You're right,” Genny replied. ”Why don't you go ahead and get the boxes ready in the s.h.i.+pping room while I check out the drying sheds? But we won't wait on Sally. She's liable to show up any minute now or not show up at all. You know how she is.”

Wallace chuckled. ”I think Miss Sally's funny. She makes me laugh.”

”You're right. Sally can be a real hoot.”

Genny washed and dried her hands, then headed toward the back porch. Drudwyn, who'd been sleeping peacefully by the screen door, lifted his head and looked up at Genny.

”Come on, boy, if you want to go out and run around for a while.”

The minute she opened the screen door, Drudwyn bounded outside. The sun shone high overhead like a glossy yellow-orange ball. The weather forecasters were predicting a slight warm-up, with the high temperatures today hovering around forty-five. Over half the snow had melted yesterday, leaving patches of icy white dotted about everywhere. Genny grabbed her heavy coat from the rack on the back porch and retrieved her gloves and hat from the pockets. She slipped on her gloves, then her hat and coat.

”I'll meet you in the s.h.i.+pping room,” Genny called out as she left Wallace on the back porch.