Pacing through the dark I consider my options. Five minutes pass. Then ten. At last I come to a sharp halt. Ah. I know exactly what I need to do. And how I need to do it.
Best of all, if it works, I will be killing two birds with one stone.
Quite literally.
A smile suddenly touches my face. There are times when my brilliance astonishes me.
Chapter Eighteen
Nate woke well before dawn.
Trying not to move, he lay with his eyes closed, simply savoring the sensation of having a naked female body wrapped in his arms.
Perfection. The word drifted through his fuzzy mind.
It’d been a long, long time since he’d had a woman in his bed. And never had it felt so right.
At last he allowed his eyes to open. The room was shadowed, but he’d left a light in the bathroom on, allowing him to appreciate Ellie’s tousled beauty as she snuggled closer.
He brushed his lips over the top of her head, a small smile curving as her hands softly stroked up and down his back. Her fingers paused, tracing the scars that pockmarked his skin.
The long, thin scar where his oldest brother had split open his shoulder with a whip. The rough patch from a wound suffered while he was pulling a child from a burning car. And the more recent gunshots.
Her hand moved to his lower hip, lingering on the scar that was four inches wide and still tender to the touch.
“Is this the one that still hurts?” she asked in a husky voice.
Nate shivered. Sparks danced over his skin, igniting a heat that spread through his body. The woman had magic in her touch.
“Not right now,” he assured her, his lips tracing a path of kisses over her wide brow.
She stroked her fingers over the side of his hip. “Did they operate to take out the bullet?”
Nate reached down to wrap her fingers in a gentle grip, tugging them to touch the deep indention that marred his lower stomach.
“No. It came out here,” he told her, “but there were bone fragments they had to dig out. They’ve operated three times so far.”
She tilted back her head, her eyes dark with emotion. “I’m glad you retired.”
His fingers loosened their hold as he allowed his hand to skim up her arm. He explored the slope of her shoulder with a light, feathery touch that made her tremble. He was learning what made Ellie shiver and squirm in all the best ways.
“My mother agrees with you.”
“Poor woman.”
“Why do you say that?”
Her hand traced the tense muscles of his stomach, brushing the tip of his full-on erection. A groan was wrenched from his lips.
“She raised four boys,” Ellie explained. “And if your brothers are anything like you, she must have the patience of a saint.”
He chuckled. He wasn’t sure he should admit that his brothers were much worse than he could ever be. He sensed she would freak out the first time he took her home for the holidays.
A strange warmth filtered through his soul.
It was so damned easy to picture her in his parents’ small home in the suburbs of Chicago, surrounded by his brothers and a small posse of children.
A wish. A dream. A fantasy.
Or maybe a prophecy.
For now he could only hope, and remain patient.
“I’m not sure if she qualifies for sainthood, but she should get a medal of honor for bravery,” he said.
She studied his face, as if searching for some hidden truth. “You love her very much.”
“She’s something special,” he instantly agreed. “And she’s going to be anxious to meet you.”
As expected, Ellie stiffened at his words. “Nate.”
He leaned forward to press their mouths together. “You can pretend if you want, but I’m not going to.”
“I’ m not pretending.”
He nipped her lower lip. “Of course you are. We both know that what’s happening between us is destiny.” His fingers threaded through her hair. “There’s no point in fighting it. It’s too powerful.”
He heard her breath catch in her throat.
“I don’t believe in destiny,” she whispered.
“I didn’t either.” He kissed her. Slow and deep. “Until you. Now I understand exactly why Fate brought me to Curry.”
She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m not ready to think about the future,” she said. “Not yet.”
He disguised his pang of disappointment behind a teasing smile. “Then let’s concentrate on this moment.”
She hooked her leg over his hip, pressing her lower body tight against his aching arousal.
“I’m good with that.”
Excitement blasted through him. “You’re more than good. You’re great.”
She wrinkled her nose, giving a small shake of her head. “We really need to work on your cheesy lines.”
“Don’t worry. We have all the time in the world to practice. Years and years and years.”
Her rueful chuckle filled the room. “You’re wrong.”
Nate found it increasingly difficult to think about anything beyond the feel of her soft body perfectly fitted against his own.
“About what?”
“Your mother had to be a saint to survive you,” she said.
He rolled her flat on her back, reaching toward the nightstand where he kept his decreasing stash of condoms.
“Probably,” he absently agreed.
Right now, all he wanted to think about was hearing Ellie’s soft moans as he thrust deep inside her.
* * *
It was nearly seven a.m. and Ellie was showered and dressed, ready for work. Unfortunately, there was a six-foot male blocking the doorway with a stubborn expression etched on his face.
“I’m going to my office and that’s final,” she said, trying to ignore the warm scent of his skin.
She’d spent the past twelve hours distracting herself with glorious sex. Now it was time to return to the real world. First a few hours at the office. And then figuring out what she needed to do to start the repairs on her house.
Nate, however, had other ideas.
He’d been arguing with her since she’d pulled on her ivory slacks and a soft cashmere sweater.
“Just give me one good reason why you can’t work from here,” he growled.
She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at his handsome face. Even with his hair mussed and his jaw dark with unshaven whiskers, he was sinfully gorgeous.
Her heart jumped and skittered even as she did her best to scowl at him.
“I need my files.”
“I’ll go pick them up.”
“I also have two clients coming in today.”
He shrugged. “Reschedule.”
“No, Nate.” She gave a sharp shake of her head. “I’m not going to be bullied into changing my life.”
He made a sound deep in his throat. “It’s not forever.”
“No?” She held his fierce gaze. “Can you be sure of that?”
“Stubborn—”
“Look, my office is just across the street from the sheriff’s office,” she interrupted. “There’s no safer place in Curry.”
“My bed,” he shot back.
Ellie rolled her eyes, hoping he didn’t notice her shiver of yearning. It was bad enough to know that a secret part of her wanted to stay in this house and pretend everything was perfect. She didn’t want Nate realizing just how weak she was beneath her pretense of bravado.
“Now I know why you’re so determined to keep me here,” she accused.
He released a rough sigh, framing her face in his hands. “Ellie, there’s some lunatic out there. A lunatic who has potentially killed three people.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
She grimaced. She wasn’t sure she’d fully accepted all the ugly things happening in Curry, but she wasn’t oblivious to them.
Or the fact that she was somehow involved
in the madness.
“Yes, but I won’t run and I won’t hide,” she said in defiant tones.
His thumbs brushed her cheeks. “I’ve learned that there’s nothing wrong with choosing to avoid danger. It doesn’t make you a coward.”
Her breath caught in her throat as regret twisted her heart. Did he think she thought he was somehow a coward because he’d left the FBI? Nothing could be further from the truth.
She had infinite admiration for his ability to accept that his temperament wasn’t suited to be an FBI agent. Too many people clung to old dreams, refusing to see that happiness might be waiting in another direction.
Or sold their souls to make them come true.
The vision of her mother and father seated in their formal salon that felt more like a hotel lobby than a home seared through her mind. Then she gave a small shake of her head.
“I have no intention of deliberately putting myself at risk,” she promised, reaching to place her hand on his forearm. She could feel the tension in his muscles and she experienced another pang of regret. He was truly concerned for her safety. Still, she couldn’t hide away. It wasn’t who she was. “All I want is to spend a few hours at my office concentrating on something besides how scared I am.”
“Christ.” He closed his eyes before he forced them back open. “You promise not to leave the office?”
She flicked a brow upward. A silent warning that she wasn’t a woman who took commands. From anyone.
“The only promise I’m willing to make is that I’ll let you know if I need to go anywhere,” she said.
A smile ghosted over his lips. “You negotiate a hard bargain, Ellie Guthrie.”
“It’s good to know my expensive education didn’t go to waste.”
“Hmm.” Another sigh. This one resigned. “I’ll drive you to town.”
* * *
Larry Harper tried to peer through the gloom that shrouded the back of the room. It was midmorning, but the windows were boarded over, leaving the space in total darkness.
When his brother had shared his crazy idea to try and earn a few extra dollars, Larry had expected to meet his contact in a secluded field. Or even a house in a quiet neighborhood. Somewhere private, not a building on the town square.
For a second he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He turned in a full circle. The place was empty. And it smelled like sawdust and polish. As if someone was in the middle of a renovation project.
Weird.
Then again, everything about the past couple of days had been weird.
Daniel getting snuffed. The FBI dude who’d acted like he was going to pin the death on him. Then Bert’s sudden announcement that he’d seen something the night they’d met with Daniel.
Larry hadn’t wanted to come. This was all Bert’s idea and Larry feared it was a setup that was going to land him in jail. Then his brother had pointed out that there might be Feds watching their apartment. Bert promised he would stroll around the neighborhood to lead them away so Larry could head to Curry without being followed.
Larry wasn’t fully convinced that was the reason. Bert would always protect his ass, while expecting his younger brother to take all the risks.
Not bothering to hide his annoyance at the entire situation, Larry glared through the thick shadows. He was waiting another five minutes, then he was going to bail. He’d already wasted half his night coming here. He wanted to get back to the apartment to sample the new stash of meth his brother had promised to bring home after he sent the Feds on a wild-goose chase.
“Where’s your brother?” A voice suddenly sliced through the darkness.
Larry jumped. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching. Then he allowed a smug smile to touch his lips. Bert had been right. He’d actually seen Daniel’s killer.
Why else would they actually show up to this meeting?
Damn. This was going to give them the payday they’d been dreaming of for years. Maybe enough to get out of the squalid apartment and into a real house.
That’s all he’d truly wanted since leaving Curry all those years ago.
“Bert is standing outside the Tulsa police station,” he lied, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to appear casual. In truth, his heart was banging in his chest so hard it made it difficult to breathe. “He’s waiting to make sure I get the money. Otherwise, he’s headed inside to tell the cops everything he saw that night.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Larry Harper.”
There was a faint rustle as his companion moved forward. Larry narrowed his gaze. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness. Just enough for him to see the silhouette of his companion.
He frowned, belatedly realizing that the shadowed form was holding something. What? A phone? No, it was bigger than that. It had to be a . . .
Fear exploded through him.
A gun.
The realization burned through his brain at the same time the person lifted their arm.
Stumbling backward, he stared at the weapon in horror.
“Wait!” he cried out. “We can negotiate the price.”
“Two birds, one stone,” came the whispered reply.
Then a bullet drilled through Larry’s forehead and blasted out the back of his skull.
Chapter Nineteen
Nate tried to leash his frustration. Ellie was a big girl. He knew that with intimate certainty. But that didn’t keep him from wanting to insist she remain locked in his house.
In his bed.
Now he held on to his steering wheel with a white-knuckle grip as she pushed open the passenger door of his truck and jumped down to the sidewalk.
“You’ll call me if you leave the office, right?” he demanded.
“I promise.”
“I’ll be back to take you to lunch.”
She didn’t bother to argue. “Fine.”
Nate idled next to the curb until Ellie was inside her office. He could see that Doris was already at her desk. Still, he lingered for another few minutes, reluctant to leave.
At last he muttered a curse and shoved his truck into gear. If he wanted to protect Ellie, he needed to discover who was responsible for harassing her. And if they were connected to the spate of deaths.
Something that wasn’t going to happen if he spent his day keeping watch on her office.
He circled the square, then headed out of town. He wanted to stop by Ellie’s house and see if he could find any clues as to how the fire was started, and who might have been responsible. Then he intended to have a conversation with Walter.
There was some reason Walter had gone from believing there was something sketchy about Daniel’s death to asserting that he, along with Mandy, had died of a bad batch of heroin. A woman who had never been known to drink more than a half glass of wine.
He’d turned onto the gravel road when his phone buzzed. Pressing it to his ear, he slowed to a crawl.
“Marcel.”
The voice on the other end was his FBI contact, who informed him that he’d gathered what information he could find on Neville Morse and the Hopewell Clinic.
Nate passed Ellie’s scorched house and pulled into his own driveway. He hopped out of his truck and entered through a side door that led directly to his small study. It took a few minutes to fire up his computer and download the waiting email.
In the meantime, he headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. And he had high hopes that tonight would be equally sleepless. He was going to need as much caffeine as he could pour into his body.
At last he was seated at his table with a stack of papers he’d just printed off and a hot mug of steaming coffee.
The top papers were devoted to the tedious forms that were required by state and federal agencies to apply for a grant. He quickly skimmed through them, his brows rising as he reached the official approval of the grant.
Almost a million dollars to build the clinic and to pay for a small staff.
Not
bad.
He set aside the papers, and glanced through the rental agreement between Neville Morse and the Hopewell Clinic. He was paid five thousand a month to have the place located on his land. More than generous, but not outrageous. Everyone tried to screw the government out of money.
The next page was the glowing résumé for Dr. Lewis Booker, who was listed as the senior consultant. Nate instantly recognized the name. The old doctor was still around, although Nate wasn’t personally acquainted with him.
Perhaps he should take the time to seek out the doctor and find out his opinion on the sudden deaths of Daniel and Mandy, as well as Barb.
Shuffling to the next paper, he read through the legal mumbo jumbo that created a nonprofit corporation to run the clinic. There was a mission statement that hit all the usual promises. Serving the community. Elevating the futures of the clients. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Next was the creation of the board and their various duties. More boring legal mumbo jumbo. He was on the point of moving on to more interesting intel when he abruptly froze, his gaze locked on the list of board members:
Dr. Lewis Booker
Neville Morse
Walter Perry
Ruben Chambers
Colin Guthrie
Barb Adams, Secretary to the Board
The breath hissed between Nate’s teeth. This was the connection. It had to be, right? Neville. Walter. Tia’s father, Ruben Chambers. Barb.
And Ellie’s father.
What the hell?
He dropped the papers on the table, his coffee forgotten as he tried to logically sift through various possibilities. A futile task. He didn’t have enough information to form any theories.
About to return his attention to the remaining papers, Nate was interrupted by the sound of a sharp knock on his front door. With a frown, he made his way through the house. He paused to glance out the window, his frown deepening at the sight of the sheriff’s star painted on the side of the SUV.
Now what?
He took three steps to the side and pulled open the door, revealing the young deputy who was standing on his porch looking distinctly nervous.
“Hello, Clay,” Nate said, his tone impatient.
The deputy cleared his throat. “Nate.”
You Will Suffer Page 16
