Deadly Reckoning

by Elle James

  With a tap on her key fob, she popped the latch on her SUV and the back door rose. The backseats were still folded down from when she’d loaded all her suitcases and art supplies for the trip south from Seattle.

  Between the two of them they managed to get the bicycle in place, laying it on its side. Kayla let Dakota handle the heavy lifting. Once it was inside, Dakota climbed into the passenger seat while Kayla closed the hatch and rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side.

  As she settled behind the steering wheel, the sun glinted off something shiny, blinding her for a moment. That something dangled off the rearview mirror. She blinked and held up her hand to keep from being flashed again. She touched a thin chain, her fingers curling around it. When she looked down, her heart stopped, her breath lodging in her throat. In her palm lay a golden locket—the locket she’d worn the night of the art show in Seattle. The night she’d almost lost her baby. The night she’d almost been murdered.

  Gabe stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and scrubbed the water from his hair, his thoughts poring over the events of the day, the murder weighing heavily on him.

  He’d been with the sheriff when they’d given the young woman’s parents the news. His chest was still tight from witnessing their disbelief and then the overwhelming grief in their eyes.

  Adding to his crapper of a day, Dakota hadn’t been home when he’d gotten off work. Another ten minutes and he’d be late for dinner.

  Not that Gabe cared so much about punctuality. He worried where the boy was and whether or not he was in any kind of trouble.

  The front door opened and closed on the big old house.

  Gabe looped the towel around his neck, slipped into a pair of jeans and padded barefoot through the bedroom door and out onto the landing overlooking the large foyer. “Dakota?”

  When no one answered, he hurried down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as the door opened again and Kayla Davies entered, followed by Gabe’s sister, Molly, with Dakota bringing up the rear.

  Kayla stopped so suddenly that Molly ran into her back, bumping her forward and into Gabe’s bare chest.

  His hands automatically rose to steady her, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. “Hello, again.”

  She stared up at him with deep green eyes, her hands resting against his bare skin.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Molly said. “I was too busy looking down I didn’t see you stop. Hi, Gabe, meet our new neighbor, Kayla.” Her brows rose. “You might want to put a shirt on.”

  “Yeah, really,” Dakota agreed, edging past the women and his father to lope up the steps two at a time, his face a mottled red.

  “Wash up, dinner is on in a few minutes,” Molly called out to the retreating teen. She shook her head. “I don’t know what it’s gonna take to get through to him.”

  Kayla stepped back, twin flags of color rising in her pale cheeks. “Excuse me. I’m not usually so clumsy.”

  “Blame me.” Molly hooked her elbow and dragged her toward the kitchen. “Gabe, get dressed while Kayla and I put the finishing touches on the soup. Oh, by the way, she’s staying for dinner.”

  Kayla glanced over her shoulder at Gabe as Molly pulled her through the swinging door and out of sight.

  For a long moment, Gabe stood staring after them, his skin still tingling from where Kayla’s hands had rested on his chest. He dragged in a deep breath and let it out, stunned by the impact she had on him. His pulse beat faster than normal, his blood burning through his veins. He’d thought his reaction over their earlier meeting had been one of fear for her life, but this kick in his gut had nothing to do with fear and more to do with physical attraction.

  Gabe shook himself, grabbed the towel from around his neck and followed Dakota up the stairs. He needed to remember to keep his head clear. This was no time to get caught up in an untimely attraction. He had too much going on, between trying to connect with his son and finding a killer.

  He also had to remind himself that women weren’t on top of his most trustworthy list since Siena showed up at his door with a son she’d kept secret from him for years. Growing up in a small town, he’d always assumed that the people he felt close to—family, friends, lovers—were as open and honest with him as he was with them. He couldn’t assume that anymore.

  He suspected his lack of trust was part of the strain in his relationship with Dakota. He doubted Dakota would feel any better about it if Gabe explained that he was suspicious of everyone, not just teenagers with juvenile court records.

  Gabe even had his suspicions that Kayla was keeping something from him. He wanted to know everything he could about this stranger with the porcelain skin and long silky hair. But the timing was all wrong—not least because he was afraid she might be in danger.

  He’d spoken to the detective on her case back in Seattle. It sounded bad. Very bad. It obviously hadn’t been just a random attack. There had been phone calls leading up to it—threats, harassment. And then, on the night at the gallery, the attacker had told her that it wasn’t over.

  No, this definitely wasn’t a time when either one of them needed the distraction of a relationship.

  Three minutes later, he stepped out onto the landing, securing the buttons on a crisp white dress shirt, his hair combed back, shoes on his feet.

  Well, just because he wasn’t looking for a relationship was no reason not to look his best.

  He’d stopped to knock on Dakota’s door. “Ready?”

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” the teen muttered, the steady thump, thump of music carrying through the wood paneling.

  Gabe descended to the ground floor and headed straight for the kitchen, where he found Molly pouring a stockpot full of clam chowder into two large soup tureens.

  “Hold that, will ya?” She handed him the stockpot, hot pads and all, and scraped the last drops of soup into the serving dish.

  “That’s an awful lot of soup for the four of us.”

  “We have additional guests coming for dinner.”

  Gabe’s gaze drifted around the kitchen.

  A smirk lifted one corner of his sister’s mouth. “She’s out on the porch, taking in the sunset.”

  “Who?”

  Molly shook her head. “Don’t play dumb with me. You had your hands on her long enough to grow roots.”

  Heat rose around Gabe’s collar. His sister knew him all too well. Probably better than he knew himself. “She stumbled.”

  “Yeah, but you held on—never mind.” Molly took the stockpot from him and plunked it into the sink. “Tell me all, and make it fast, I have to get this on the table before the guests start bellyachin’.”

  Gabe stiffened. “There’s nothing to tell.” And, really, there wasn’t, just a feeling. He barely knew the woman.

  Molly snorted. “Bull.”

  Gabe refused to elaborate. Molly was stubborn, just like their father, but so was Gabe. “How’d she end up here?”

  “She brought Dakota home. His bicycle tire is flat. You’ll need to help him fix it. Since she was nice enough to bring my nephew home, and I had enough clam chowder to feed an army, I invited her to stay for dinner.” His sister grabbed a tureen and backed into the swinging door. “Don’t just stand there, bring the other,” she commanded.

  Gabe grinned, lifted the tureen and carried it into the large dining room where a long table had been set with seating for eight.

  “Who do we have joining us?” Gabe asked, not really interested, but stalling for a chance to freely observe Kayla through the window.

  “The Johnsons are still with us and while I was in town purchasing supplies, I ran into Jillian and one of her clients. I told them I was making clam chowder and asked if they wanted to come to dinner.”

  As if on cue, an older couple emerged fr
om the first-floor hallway, hands joined like newlyweds, which they were, having chosen Cape Churn and the McGregor B and B for their honeymoon.

  Dakota shuffled down the stairs, headphones jammed in his ears, carrying his iPod, shirt untucked, hair uncombed, the crotch of his jeans drooping nearly to his knees.

  Gabe closed his eyes and fought against the urge to tell the young man how to dress. He’d been a teen once. He’d worn weird clothes, listened to his music and basically drove his parents crazy.

  He let Dakota’s appearance slide, his thoughts shifting to the woman he could see through the front window, leaning on the porch rail, staring out at the steely-blue waters of the cape.

  Molly came to stand beside Gabe, wiping her hands on her apron. “We’re just waiting on Jillian and her client. Why don’t you go talk to our guest. She seemed kind of quiet, and very jumpy. Why, I don’t know. I’d try to get her to open up, but I have to get the food on the table. Until Jillian and her client arrive, you have time.” Molly’s mouth slid sideways. “You know you want to.”

  Gabe shook his head. Molly’s exuberance didn’t hide the fact that she was also very intuitive when it came to people and their feelings. She had a way of seeing through him, not that he’d been trying to hide anything.

  Kayla Davies intrigued him. He tried to tell himself it was because of her involvement in the murder investigation.

  Dakota plopped into an overstuffed leather chair in the sitting room as Gabe passed by, headed for the front door.

  When the screen door squeaked, Kayla glanced his way, her green eyes widening for a moment, that haunted look lingering in the shadows beneath her eyes.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” she said, turning her back to him, her gaze skimming across the rugged, rocky coastline.

  “I’m kind of partial to it.”

  Kayla’s fingers twisted a strand of long auburn hair, her attention on the view, not him. “Is this your hometown?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He leaned against one of the wide columns and stared at her rather than the scenery. “Lived here most of my life except the time I spent as a Seattle street cop.”

  “Seattle?” Her gaze shot to him.

  “Hard to picture me fighting crime in the big city?”

  “No. It’s just that we came from the same city.” She shrugged. “Just shows you what a small world it is.” Kayla glanced out at the sea. “What made you come back to Cape Churn?”

  “My son, Dakota.”

  She spun to face him, her eyes wide. “Your son?”

  “You look surprised.” Gabe grinned.

  “I’m sorry.” She glanced down at where her fingers tugged at a loose strand of hair. “I’m so new to town, I didn’t know.”

  “Trust me, you can’t be half as surprised as I was when I found out I had a son.”

  She frowned up at him. “When was that?”

  “Four months ago.”

  Her auburn brows rose up her forehead. “Four months?”

  Gabe scrubbed a hand across his short hair. “His mother dumped him at my apartment in Seattle. Before that, I didn’t know he existed. Since an apartment’s no place to raise a kid, I brought him to my hometown.” His lips twisted. “I’m pretty sure he hates Cape Churn. And he’s not that fond of me, either. Honestly, other than strange music, I’m not really sure what he likes at all. I’m clueless when it comes to raising teens.”

  “Can’t help you there.” Kayla’s hand smoothed across her flat stomach. “He seemed really interested in my art.”

  A chuckle rose from Gabe’s throat. “I’m not surprised. He’s on probation for defacing private property.”

  Kayla’s head tipped to the side. “He doesn’t strike me as someone who’d be deliberately destructive.”

  “Graffiti.”

  Her smile, though fleeting, lit her face. “Was it any good?”

  Gabe stared at the waiflike woman, hoping her smile would last longer, but her lips tipped downward again, the shadows in her eyes returning.

  “From the picture he showed me on his cell phone, yeah.” He shook his head. “Not that the courts saw it as anything other than a crime.”

  “He needs an outlet for his art. One that isn’t against the law.” Again, that hint of a smile curved her lips.

  Gabe’s breath caught. He could imagine how much more beautiful she would be with a full smile that reached her deep green eyes. “I brought Dakota here to give him a fresh start.” He glanced out across the rough waters of the cape and back to Kayla. “I wonder if it’s too small-town for him, though.”

  “Any place is what you make of it. He could be just as unhappy in Seattle as here.”

  Intelligent as well as beautiful. Gabe’s chest tightened. “So what brought you here? Why did you move into the lighthouse cottage?”

  “The attack in Seattle two weeks ago.” Her fingers rose to her neck absently, but she grimaced and pulled them away before they touched the skin. “It was too close a call. I couldn’t walk down the street without seeing danger in every dark corner.”

  He tried to suppress the urge to take her into his arms and hold her until her fear faded. After he’d learned what had happened to her in Seattle, he’d no longer been surprised that she’d struggled against him when he’d pulled her away from the cliff’s edge. It all made sense.

  She fished in her jeans pocket. “He tried to kill me, but he didn’t have time. Before he got away, he yanked off the necklace I was wearing.” She held up a thin gold chain with a broken clasp and a locket dangling from the middle. “I found this in my car when I got in it to bring Dakota home. It’s the same necklace he took that night.” Her voice was steady, but he could see the way her hand shook slightly, sending tremors through the necklace chain. “I left Seattle to get away from him. I’m certain now that he followed me here.”

  Chapter 5

  Gabe removed a handkerchief from his back pocket, wrapped the necklace in it and then reached out to take hold of Kayla’s hand. She hadn’t even realized how cold and shaky she was until the simple touch of his fingers on hers steadied and warmed her. She let him hold her until the trembling subsided. She hadn’t felt this safe since before the attack and she didn’t want that feeling to stop.

  “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you arrived?” he asked, his voice gentle despite the implied scolding in his words.

  “You were off duty and I didn’t want to frighten Dakota.”

  “Don’t ever hold back on something this important. I don’t care if you have to call me in the middle of the night.” He released her hand and reached out to take both her arms in his firm grasp as he held her at arm’s length. “It might be key to finding whoever murdered the girl on the beach—and keeping him from hurting you again.”

  Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. “So you believe me now—my attack and the girl’s death are connected after all. My move to Cape Churn brought a killer here. That girl is dead because of me.”

  The tension in Gabe’s arms increased, as if he was struggling with the urge to pull her close. She was glad he resisted. She didn’t know how well she’d react to strong arms trapping her in place, especially now. No matter how comforting holding his hand had felt, surely she’d get that rush of panic if he wrapped his arms around her, wouldn’t she?

  “No,” Gabe replied. “It’s like I said before. You did not kill that girl. Some low-life bastard did.”

  Kayla shook her head. “She wouldn’t be dead if he hadn’t followed me here.”

  “You can’t think that way. It’s not your fault,” he repeated, squeezing her upper arms gently.

  Kayla gave him a weak smile, then pushed away from his grip. “I’m sorry. I’m such a basket case.”

 
He smoothed the hair from her face and smiled gently. “You must be terrified.”

  She snorted. “That would be an understatement.”

  Just then, a car pulled off the highway, the crunch of gravel heralding its approach to the B and B.

  Kayla stepped away from Gabe before the driver came within view of the corner of the house where they stood. She turned her back to the oncoming vehicle, scrubbed the tears from her face and wiped her hands on her jeans.

  By the time the driver climbed out of the car, Kayla had pulled herself together as best she could.

  Gabe turned to greet the new arrival. “Hey, Jillian.”

  A beautiful blonde stepped out, her feet encased in bright red stilettos, a slim-fitting, gray skirt suit accentuating every curve of her body. She smiled at Gabe and slammed shut the car door. “Gabe, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re here. When are you going to take me out on a real date?”

  She climbed the steps onto the porch, each foot carefully placed, giving her the appearance of a model on a runway.

  “Jillian, you know I love you, just not in that way. You’re like a sister to me.” When Gabe stuck out a hand for her to shake, she tugged on it, bringing him close to her.

  She planted her red-lipsticked lips on his mouth, smacking loudly. “You know you don’t mean that.” She peered around him at Kayla.

  Several inches shorter than Jillian, Kayla stood in a peasant blouse and faded broomstick skirt, feeling as if she blended in with the woodwork next to the more glamorous blonde in her sleek business attire.

  “Who’ve you got here?” The blonde held out her hand, her brows lifting delicately.

  “Jillian, Kayla Davies. Kayla, Jillian Taylor.”

  “What a pleasant surprise.” Jillian’s lips turned upward in a genuine smile. “Kayla, darling. I stopped by to check on you, but you’d flown the coop. I hope you found everything all right.”

  Gabe frowned. “You two know each other?”