Penny’s hand was on her shoulder, and her frizzy red head was bent close. “You won’t be sorry, babe, I promise. Just a taste to get you by until, oh, maybe tonight, okay? Come on. I know the signs. You’re all strung out and uptight and you want a little space for yourself. Why shouldn’t you have it?”
Bennett felt her defenses shutting down and her addictive needs sweeping through her with relentless purpose. The itch was working its way up her spine and down her throat, and she thought—knew—that if she didn’t take what was being offered, she would self-destruct in spectacular fashion. Besides, a taste was not so much, and Nest could help her later, give her the strength she lacked now so she could start over again.
“Come on, I’ll do a little with you,” Penny persisted, whispering now, so close that Bennett could hear her breathing.
Her eyes were still closed, but now, on the verge of capitulating, on the edge of a hunger so intense she could not find words to define it, she opened them.
It was then she saw the Indian.
-=O=-***-=O=-
Nest Freemark opened her front door and found Deputy Sheriff Larry Spence waiting, his big hands clasped around his leather gloves. He was dressed in his uniform, brown over tan, and he wore a leather jacket with the collar and cuffs trimmed in dark fur. Bits and pieces of metal stays and accents glinted dully in the graying light, giving him that armored look that lawmen and the military favor.
“How you doing, girl,” he greeted pleasantly.
She glanced past him to the empty sheriff’s car. He had come alone. “Can I help you, Larry?”
He shoved his gloves into his coat pocket, eyes shifting away. “I’d like to speak with you for just a minute, if it’s okay.”
She studied him pointedly, waiting. He flushed. “It’s business, you know, not personal.”
She smiled, but held her ground. “Sure. Go right ahead.”
He cleared his throat, looking past her for just a moment. “I wonder if we might speak inside?”
The last thing she wanted was Larry Spence in her house. On the other hand, it was rude to make him stand out in the cold and she couldn’t come up with a good reason for not inviting him in long enough to tell her what he wanted.
She stood aside. “Sure.”
He moved into the entry, and she shut the door behind them. He glanced around, nodding appreciatively. “You have a very nice home. Very warm. Sort of reminds me of my folks’ old two-story.”
“Would you like some hot tea?” she asked. “We can sit in the kitchen.”
She led him down the hall and through the kitchen doorway. John Ross stood with his back to the sink, leaning on his staff, a mix of curiosity and wariness mirrored in his green eyes. But it was the look on Larry Spence’s face that surprised her, changing from friendly to antagonistic and back again so fast she almost missed it. Something was very wrong, but she had no idea what it was.
“John, this is Larry Spence,” she said. “Larry, my friend John Ross. He’s visiting for the holidays with his son.”
The men shook hands, a firm, measured sort of greeting that lacked warmth and advised caution. Nest put Larry Spence at the old wooden table and gave both men fresh cups of tea. Leaving Ross at the sink, she sat down across from Spence. “So, tell me what you need, Larry.”
He cleared his throat and straightened. “There’s been some rumors of drug dealing in the park, Nest. I’m making a few inquiries, just in case anyone’s seen anything unusual this past week or so. You haven’t noticed any strangers around, have you?”
This was the first Nest had heard about the matter. If there was any drug dealing going on in Sinnissippi Park, Pick would have noticed and said something. She frowned. “Pretty hard for anyone to hide out there in the park at this time of the year, Larry.”
“Maybe. What you need to know is that these people are pretty dangerous.”
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen anyone.”