Silent Storm. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ that someone Deputy Jessop?

      On first glance, Deacon would have said no. There was a guardedness about her, a self-preservation that suggested she would not easily be coaxed from the safety of her three-dimensional box. And yet something also told him that of all the people in Mission Creek, she might be the only one who could help him find the killer.

      Or was that merely wishful thinking? Deacon mused. She was an attractive woman in a quiet, unassuming way, and he wouldn’t mind spending time with her, although he knew very well it could go nowhere. His stay here was temporary, and as soon as his mission was over, he’d move on. To the next town. To the next killer.

      Besides, he came with too much baggage, lived with too many past sins. Slept with too many demons. Demons that would never be exorcised, no matter what he did or how hard he fought for salvation.

      But that didn’t stop him from trying. That didn’t stop him from dreaming about the kind of freedom that was now only a distant memory. A memory he wasn’t even sure he could trust.

      So here he was. In Mission Creek, Texas. On the trail of yet another killer. Someone who was very much like him. They were all like him in one way or another. And at one time, he’d been like them.

      So, no, a relationship with Deputy Marly Jessop—or anyone else—wasn’t in the cards for Deacon, and he could allow her to become nothing more to him than a means to an end.

      “Hey, you a cop?”

      Deacon whirled at the sound of the female voice behind him, annoyed that he hadn’t heard her approach. But then he realized it was raining again, and the sound had masked the woman’s arrival.

      She hurried up the porch steps, her brittle blue gaze openly curious as she gave him a lengthy inspection. She was probably no more than thirty and had once been, Deacon suspected, very pretty in an in-your-face kind of way. But now she had the hardened features of someone who had already experienced a lifetime of disappointment.

      “I’m not a cop,” Deacon told her.

      “Didn’t think so. I know all the cops around here, and I’ve never seen you before.” She lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke on a quick breath. “So who are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

      “My name is Deacon Cage.”

      She propped her right elbow in her left hand, letting the cigarette smolder between her fingers. “I’m Nona. I live across the street.” She head-gestured over her shoulder at a little house almost identical to Morales’s. “You a friend of Ricky’s?”

      “Not exactly. But we have a mutual acquaintance.”

      “A mutual acquaintance, huh?” She gave him a doubtful glance. “Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t exactly look like the type Ricky usually hangs out with.”

      “Well, you know what they say. Appearances can be deceiving.”

      “Ain’t that the damn truth?” Appreciation flashed in her eyes as she gave him another quick assessment. “I saw you come out of the house a few minutes ago. Did you talk to Marly?”

      “You mean Deputy Jessop? We spoke briefly.”

      “What’d she say about Ricky?”

      “She wouldn’t tell me anything,” Deacon replied truthfully.

      “Doesn’t matter.” Nona stared out at the rain, her expression suddenly forlorn. “I already know he’s dead.”

      “How do you know?”

      She shrugged, the action not so much one of nonchalance as acceptance. “Because people are dropping like flies around here.”

      “You mean the suicides?” Deacon asked carefully.

      “You know what I think?” She gave him an anxious look. “I think it’s the weather. All this damn rain. It’s depressing as hell. Enough to make anyone wacko.” She grimaced. “Marly must be freaking out, though.”

      “Because of the weather?”

      Nona glanced back at the rain. “No, because of the suicides.”

      “What do you mean?”

      She hesitated. “Let’s just say, Marly has some issues and leave it at that, okay?”

      What kind of issues? Deacon wanted to ask, but he didn’t press her. He had a feeling Nona was a woman who liked to talk, and with a little patience, he’d find out everything he wanted to know from her without having to resort to anything…drastic. “You sound as if you know Deputy Jessop pretty well.”

      Nona shrugged again. “Not really. We went to high school together, but we didn’t exactly hang out with the same crowd, if you know what I mean. Marly was the straight-A-honor-roll type of girl while I was—” She broke off and gave him a side-long glance. “You might say I had a different set of priorities in high school.”

      Deacon nodded. “Fair enough.”

      “I sure as hell never would have pictured her as a cop, though.”

      “Why not?”

      Nona watched a cloud of smoke drift off the porch. “She’s just not cut out for it. Too much of a goody-goody. Let’s people push her around all the time. Especially her old man.”

      “Her husband?”

      Nona shook her head. “She’s not married. No, I’m talking about her father. He’s a retired army colonel. Used to be the base commander over at Fort Stanton before it closed. Not exactly Mr. Personality, if you get my drift. I knew some of the guys who were stationed there, and they hated his guts. Said he was one mean son of a bitch.” She paused to take another drag on her cigarette, then expelled the smoke on a nervous laugh. “I don’t mean to bend your ear like this. It’s just…I have a tendency to talk too much when I get jittery.” She tossed the cigarette butt over the porch railing and watched it sizzle in the wet grass. “Smoke too much, too.”

      “I don’t mind. I’m enjoying our conversation,” Deacon said.

      “Yeah?” Her gaze turned speculative as she gave him another careful once-over.

      “You were telling me about Marly Jessop’s father, the retired army colonel,” he gently coaxed.

      Nona nodded. “My mother used to be their housekeeper, see. That’s how come I know so much about them. She’s got stories about that family that could curl your hair, let me tell you. She always felt real bad for Marly and Sam, though.”

      “Sam?”

      “Marly’s brother.”

      “Does he live here in Mission Creek?”

      “He came back here after he left the service. He’s moved into their grandmother’s old place. Really got it fixed up nice. I even noticed when I drove by there the other day that he has the garage apartment up for rent. Not that I’m interested, mind you.” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “You couldn’t pay me enough. Even if it would mean getting to see Sam СКАЧАТЬ