Divine Evil

And the best defense was a good offense. So saying, she jumped forward toward the door, letting loose with the most hideous shriek she could summon.
    “Jesus!” Cameron Rafferty stumbled back a step, one hand reaching for his weapon, the other gripping theflashlight like a club. He saw a woman with wild red hair and a kelly green suede jacket come leaping at him. He ducked her swing, tossed an arm around her waist, and used his weight to overbalance both of them. They landed with a thud on the hardwood floor.
    “Bruno!” Clare shouted, inspired and terrified. “Someone's in the house! Bring the gun!” As she yelled, she tried to bring her knee up between her attacker's thighs and nearly succeeded.
    Winded, Cam struggled to pin her arms above her head. “Hold on.” He swore as she tried to take a bite out of him. “I said hold on. I'm the police. I said I'm the goddamn police.”
    It finally got through. She subsided enough to look at his face in the slant of light from the bedroom. She saw dark hair, a little curly, a little too long, the stubble of a beard over tanned skin that stretched taut over excellent cheekbones. A good mouth, she thought, artist to the last. Nice eyes, though in the dark she couldn't be sure of their color. There was a light scent of sweat about him, clean, clear sweat, not at all offensive. His body, pressed hard into hers to keep her still, felt lean and muscled.
    He didn't seem like a psychotic or a crazed felon. But…
    She took her survey while she fought to regain her breath. “The police?”
    “That's right.”
    Though she was flat on her back, she gained some satisfaction from the fact that he was breathless. “I want to see your badge.”
    He was still cautious. Though his grip on her wrist had caused her to drop the lethal keys, she still had nails and teeth. “I'm wearing it. At this rate, it should be imprinted on your chest.”
    Under different circumstances, she might have been amused by the exasperation in his voice. “I want to see it.”
    “Okay. I'm going to move, slowly.” He was as good as his word. His eyes never left hers as he shifted back and dropped one hand to the badge pinned to his shirt.
    Clare flicked a glance over the metal star. “I can buy one of those in the dimestore.”
    “I. D.'s in my wallet. Okay?”
    She nodded, watching him as carefully as he watched her. With two fingers, he reached in his hip pocket and flipped open a wallet. Clare inched back, then reached out. She tilted the wallet toward the spill of light. She read the laminated identification, frowned at the name and picture.
    “Cameron Rafferty?” She looked up at him then, squinting in the dark. “You're Cameron Rafferty?”
    “That's right. I'm the sheriff here.”
    “Oh, God.” She giggled, surprising him. “Then pigs must be flying.” She laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. Baffled, Cam shined his light in her face. “Take a good look,” she invited. “Come on, Rafferty, don't you recognize me?”
    He played the light over her features. It was her eyes, gold and glowing with unholy amusement, that jogged his memory. “Clare? Clare Kimball?” He gave a shout of laughter. “I'll be a sonofabitch.”
    “Yeah, that's the truth.”
    He grinned at her. “Well, welcome home, Slim.”

Chapter 4
    “S O HOW THE HELL are you, Clare?”
    They were sitting on the front porch steps drinking two of the lukewarm Becks that Clare had picked up during her meanderings through Pennsylvania. Relaxed, she moved her shoulders as she tipped the bottle back. The beer and the cool night eased the driving kinks.
    “I'm pretty good.” She leveled her gaze to the badge on his shirt. Her eyes glowed with humor. “Sheriff.”
    Cam stretched out his booted feet, then crossed them. “I take it Blair didn't mention I'd moved into Parker's old job.”
    “Nope.” She sipped again, then gestured with the bottle. “Brothers never tell their sisters the interesting gossip. It's the law.”
    “I'll write that down.”
    “So where is Parker? Spinning in his grave because it killed him to see you sitting in his chair?”
    “Florida.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered her one. “Took off his badge, packed up, and headed south.” When he flicked on his lighter, Clare leaned overand touched the tip of her cigarette to the flame. In the glow they studied each other's faces.
    “Just like that?” she said, expelling smoke.
    “Yeah. I heard about the job and decided to