room is,” Bernie said.
“Bernie?” Brenda called when Bernie led Kevin toward the staircase.
Bernie glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, Mom?”
“We’ll talk later.”
Bernie nodded. No, we will not talk later.
She and Kevin climbed the spiral staircase; then he followed her down the long hallway toward the men’s restroom.
“This is some place,” Kevin said. “It’s like a mansion out of a movie or something.”
“This used to be a private residence, back a hundred years ago. It’s been the Adams Landing Country Club all my life. My parents held their wedding reception here forty years ago and the celebration for their twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“When you get married, you should have your reception here,” Kevin said. “It would be carrying on a family tradition, like your being the sheriff after your dad and granddad were.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bernie paused outside the closed door to the restroom. “Here we are.”
“Would you wait around just in case I need somebody to help me talk Dad into letting me spend the night with J.D.?”
“Sure, I’ll wait.”
“You’re the best, Bernie. The best.”
Kevin opened the bathroom door, then stopped dead in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” Bernie asked as she came up behind a frozen-to-the-spot Kevin.
When he didn’t respond, she followed his gaze, looking directly into the men’s restroom.
“Oh, God.” Bernie groaned.
Jim had Robyn backed up against the wall. She had her arms around him, her hands cupping his butt. And they were kissing, hot and heavy.
“Dad, what are you doing!”
Jim and Robyn broke apart instantly.
“You’re not supposed to be kissing her,” Kevin said. “What’s Bernie going to think, catching you kissing another woman?”
Jim’s startled gaze jumped from Kevin to Bernie. “Kevin, son, I can—”
“Why did you have to go and ruin things?” Kevin screamed at his father. “You ruined things with Mom, and now you’ve ruined things with Bernie.”
Kevin turned and ran down the hall.
Jim rushed to the door. “Kevin. Wait. Please, wait.”
Bernie felt numb, as if a sudden violent winter storm had frozen her solid. She glared at her sister, who grinned sheepishly.
“Damn.” Jim rubbed his forehead, then glared at Bernie. “Why the hell did you bring him up here?”
Bernie bristled. “Don’t you dare take this out on me, Jim Norton. Kevin wanted to find you to ask you if he could spend the night with J.D. Simms. My mother said she thought you’d come up here. I had no idea you hadn’t come alone.”
“I’ve got to find him and talk to him, to explain.” Jim grasped Bernie’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”
“I think I should go with you,” Bernie said. “He’s awfully upset with you.”
“Yeah, I’d appreciate that. I think he’s gotten the notion in his head that you and I are more than friends.”
“I’ll make him understand that he’s wrong.” You certainly proved to me how wrong I was to hope that tonight might be the beginning of something special between the two of us.
“Want me to go along, too?” Robyn asked.
“No!” Jim and Bernie responded in unison.
The past three days had been a guilt-ridden exercise in hindsight torment for Jim. If he had it to do over again… But what was done, was done. He couldn’t change the fact that his son and his boss had caught him making out with his boss’s sister. Well, making out might be too strong a phrase. He’d tried to turn down Robyn’s advances, but she hadn’t taken no for an answer. When she’d rubbed herself all over him and practically thrust her tongue down his throat, he had reacted like any normal man would have. He’d kissed her back, even though he knew the woman was trouble and not somebody he wanted to get mixed up with. But to be totally honest, he wasn’t sure how far things would have gone if he and Robyn hadn’t been interrupted.
Kevin hadn’t spoken more than half a dozen words to him since Saturday night and here it was Tuesday afternoon. It didn’t help that Mary Lee hadn’t called Kevin since her surgery, and when he’d telephoned her, Allen had interceded and said she was resting and couldn’t be disturbed. If it hadn’t been for Bernie and her parents, Jim wasn’t sure what he would have done. When he and Bernie had caught up with Kevin Saturday night at the country club, they’d taken him outside and tried to explain things to him.
“Your dad and I are just friends,” Bernie had said. “He didn’t do anything to betray me or you. You know, it’s not against the law for a man to kiss a pretty woman.”
But no matter how much he and Bernie had tried to explain the situation, Kevin didn’t respond, except to finally ask if he could spend the night with J.D. Reluctantly, Jim had agreed. When he’d picked Kevin up at the Simms’s house Sunday afternoon, his son had made it perfectly clear that he was still pissed at him.
“I talked to Miss Brenda and asked if I could stay overnight with them for a few nights and she said it would be okay.” Kevin had refused to make eye contact with Jim.
He had wanted to tell Kevin no, that they should work things out at home, but he reconsidered, figuring a few days apart might help Kevin come to terms with his anger and disappointment. Once again, Jim felt like a total failure as a father.
And as if his problems with his son weren’t bad enough, things between him and Bernie were strained, to say the least. She’d been decidedly cool around him at work and seemed to be deliberately avoiding him. He’d seen her once since they had parted company Saturday night. He wasn’t sure if she was pissed at him on Kevin’s behalf or if she just didn’t like the idea of him fooling around with her sister. The bottom line was that he was in the doghouse with the two people he most did not want to disappoint—his son, who meant everything to him, and his boss and newfound friend, whose opinion truly mattered to him.
Robyn had called him a couple of times on Sunday, both times on the pretense that she was concerned about him. Maybe she was. He didn’t know, didn’t care. He was attracted to Robyn the way he’d be attracted to any good-looking woman, but he didn’t have any real feelings for her and he seriously doubted that she had any for him.
Jim had woken up with a headache this morning. He’d drank a little too much Jack Daniel’s last night, so the headache was his own damn fault. As he sat behind his desk, rubbing his temples and berating himself for overindulging, his phone rang.
He grabbed the receiver off the base. “Captain Norton here.”
“Captain Norton, this is Derek Lawrence. I have the profile of your killer ready. Do you prefer that I fax it or e-mail it?”
“Whichever you’d rather do. And thanks. I appreciate this.”
“Thank your friend Griffin Powell.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Captain Norton?”
“Yes?”
“I believe the man who has killed the two women in your area and kidnapped a third is more than likely