Angels Fall

messed with her laundry at the hotel. You re sleeping with her, so you want to believe her. Nothing's so alluring as a damsel in  distress."
    Temper leaped. "What bullshit. Fucking bullshit. Since you've got that badge, you've got a responsibility to protect and serve."
    "I've got a responsibility to protect and serve this town, these people. You go ahead and be as pissed as you want," he said with a nod. "You go right on, but I've done about all I can for Reece Gilmore. Those tourists and summer people are coming in, and I can't waste time and manpower I need to keep order around here chasing her demons. I'm sorry for her, God knows. She's a nice woman who caught a big, bad break. She's going to have to get over it and settle down. Do yourself a favor, talk her into getting some treatment."
    "I thought better of you, Rick."
    "At this point, Brody." Rick said wearily as he pulled open the door of his truck. "I can say right back at you." He climbed in, slammed the door. "You care about that woman, get her some help." He started the engine. "She needs it."
    When Brody stomped back in Reece was at the stove. Rice in a covered pot, chicken and garlic sauteing in a skillet.
    "Fuck him," Brody muttered and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator.
    "Thanks. Thanks for taking my side." She shook the pan, flipping chunks of chicken. "I didn't have to hear the conversation to know his part of it. He doesn't believe me, and this last incident colors all the rest. I've wasted his time, disturbed the routine, moved up from town cuckoo to town nuisance. And when you come right down to it. you can't blame him."
    "Why the hell not?"
    "Everything points to me making it up, or just being crazy." She added the vegetables she'd already chopped and sliced to the pan, dashed in some white wine, gave the skillet another shake. "Just as it points to you sticking with me because we're sleeping together."
    "Is that what you think?"
    "I know you believe me, and knowing that is a lifeline."
    He took a long, slow sip of beer. "Want to pack it up? Try New Mexico maybe? The thing about both of our professions is we can do them anywhere we damn well please." Her eyes stung, but she kept stirring and shaking. "You know what? You could have fallen on your knees, holding an eye-gouging diamond, a puppy and a fifty-pound box of Belgian chocolate, professed your undying love and devotion, then recited Shelley. It wouldn't have meant more."
    "Good, because I don't know any Shelley offhand."
    "And it's tempting," she continued. "But I know better than anyone that you can run away, even walk away, and it doesn't change the bottom line. I liked seeing the flowers bloom out there, liked knowing they can. If they can root out here, so can I."
    She took the bowl in which she'd whisked up her sauce, poured it over the contents of the pan. "This'll be ready in a couple minutes. Why don't you get the plates?"

Chapter 26

    REECE SAT in Doc Wallace's examination room, grateful she didn't have to strip down for the follow-up. She felt sluggish, the way she did when she'd overindulged at a party. Sleeping pill, she thought, just an over-the-counter deal I3rody had urged on her. Not that he'd had to do much urging, she recalled.
    Though it kept the curtain closed on the nightmares, she felt heavy-headed and dull this morning. It was worth the trade-off?—this one time. She didn't want to go back to them, to the sleeping pills, the antidepres-sants, antianxiety.
    She wasn't depressed. She was being stalked.
    The door opened. Doc strolled in, carrying a chart, wearing a smile.
    "Congratulations. You've gained six pounds. That's real progress, young lady. Four more, and I'll stop hounding you."
    His smile faded as he came around the table and got a look at her face. "Or maybe not. Last time I had you in here you looked pale and worn out. You still do."
    "I had a had night. A horrible night. I ended up taking a sleeping pill—nonprescription type. Even that left me washed out."
    "Anxiety?" He took her chin, turning her head to study the yellowing bruise on her cheek. "Nightmares?"
    "I took the pill to avoid anxiety and nightmares. I saw the killer last night." Doc pursed his lips, and his eyes were sharp on her face when he slid onto his stool. "Why don't you tell me about it."
    She ran it through, every detail. "You don't have to believe me, or say you do," she finished. "It's been a crappy few days, so I look pale and worn out."
    "This tender?" he asked as he gently