Suspicions (The Battling McGuire Boys Book 3)

by Cynthia Eden

  He heard Ava’s car door opening. He forced his back teeth to unclench as he said, “Why didn’t you come to me about this Shayne Townsend mess weeks ago? I wasn’t involved in the murder of your parents! I had plenty of people here at the ranch who saw me right before Ava came galloping up!” The idea that he was involved was ridiculous. He was—

  “I know you have an alibi. I already checked that.”

  Davis had been investigating him?

  “It was your father who didn’t have an alibi. No one could account for him an hour before the crime or an hour after.”

  Mark felt shock rip through him. “He was my...stepfather.” Like that distinction mattered. Technically, Gregory Montgomery had adopted him. Of course, most folks didn’t know that Mark had hated the bastard with every bit of his soul.

  “He committed suicide two months after my parents died,” Davis said.

  Mark glanced over at Ava. She was in her car, appearing for all intents and purposes as if she was about to drive away and leave him.

  “Sometimes guilt can drive a man to take his own life.”

  Davis seriously thinks that Gregory murdered the McGuires!

  And...and Mark couldn’t say that he hadn’t. Because he knew just how twisted Gregory could be.

  Ava cranked up her car.

  Mark jerked away from Davis. “Ava, wait!” He lunged toward the car. Her window was rolled down, and his fingers pushed through the opening and locked onto the steering wheel. “Wait,” he said again, his voice softer.

  She didn’t look at him.

  “I didn’t hurt them, Ava.”

  She nodded. Blinked several times. Oh, no, was she crying? He couldn’t stand it when Ava cried.

  “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  Again, she gave the faintest of nods.

  Davis was a few feet away, watching them far too closely.

  “Where are you going?” Mark asked her. “You said you were starting a new job in Austin soon. You can’t just stay in some motel.” Not with that creep out there watching her. “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”

  Her head turned then, and she finally stared into his eyes. He didn’t see any rage there. No accusation. Just the same trust that he always saw when she looked at him. “I don’t want to bring any danger to you. He was in your house. Whoever this guy is...I don’t want him hurting you.”

  And I’d be destroyed if he hurt you, Ava. Can’t you see that?

  “I’m going back to the ranch with Davis.”

  “You hate staying there.” He knew Ava hadn’t stepped foot inside the main house, not since that night.

  She shrugged. “There’s a guest cottage I can use.”

  “You can stay here.” She’d been asking to stay hours before, and now she was running away.

  But then Davis stepped forward. “We have better security at our place. He already got in here once. He won’t reach her there.”

  Because the McGuire ranch had basically been transformed into a fortress after those murders. The brothers had wanted to make sure their home was always protected.

  Even if that protection had come too late.

  “I’m sorry I involved you,” Ava said. Her hands were curled around the steering wheel.

  He leaned forward a bit more and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “This isn’t over, Ava.”

  “Mark, I—”

  He kissed her. A fast, hard kiss, right on her lips. And yes, he knew Davis was watching. So what? It was time all the McGuires realized that Mark would be taking what he wanted.

  And what he wanted most was Ava.

  He pulled back and held her surprised stare. “I’ll be seeing you very soon.” She wasn’t getting away from him. Not this time.

  * * *

  THE COPS WERE USELESS.

  He watched as they scurried around the Montgomery ranch. Were they seriously looking for clues? There weren’t any to find. He was too good. He hadn’t left any evidence behind, nothing that could be traced to him.

  This isn’t my first ball game.

  And Davis McGuire was there, too. Stalking around, questioning everyone.

  Some of the idiots there actually stuttered when they talked to Davis. Like he was some kind of big deal. He wasn’t. None of the McGuire brothers were.

  The only McGuire who mattered...that was Ava.

  She’d left Mark. Good. She’d taken his warning. He’d already known that she was planning to move to Austin. He’d learned that during one of his trips to her place. He liked to keep tabs on Ava. To find out just what was happening in her life.

  He was glad that she’d come back home. Back to me. He’d grown tired of waiting for her, so he’d started trying to...scare her a bit. Nothing too bad, of course. Just little nudges to make sure Ava realized Houston wasn’t the place for her.

  She was back now. She’d left Mark.

  So it was finally time for him to move in...

  I’ve been waiting, Ava. So patiently. Now you will be mine.

  * * *

  AVA HATED HER family home. It was beautiful, a sprawling ranch with a bluff and a lake, surrounded by old-growth trees. Her father had once said it was a slice of heaven. He’d told her that when her great-grandfather had emigrated from Ireland nearly one hundred years before, he’d taken one look at the land and fallen in love with the place.

  Ava didn’t think the ranch was heaven. To her, it was much closer to hell.

  She parked her car near the small guest house and very much not near the main home. When she got out of the vehicle, she wasn’t surprised to see Brodie already heading toward her. Brodie and Davis—identical twins who were both way too keen on the overprotective vibe. One look at Brodie’s tense face and she knew that Davis had already spilled about the events of the previous night.

  She thought he’d lecture her. Instead he pulled her into his arms, nearly crushing her in a giant bear hug. “It’s about time you came home.”

  The words hurt. She knew he didn’t mean to hurt her. Brodie loved her. She knew that. But when Brodie looked at the ranch, she knew he saw hope for the future. He and Jennifer were getting married and planning a family. Ava had no doubt the two of them would be deliriously happy there.

  When she looked at the ranch, she saw her father telling her to run. She saw blood and death.

  “It’s...temporary,” she told Brodie as she pulled back. “I’ll start looking for a new place in the city as soon as—”

  “He was wearing a black ski mask.”

  Right. He’d definitely already gotten the update from Davis. She bet that every one of her brothers had—and, knowing them, they’d be checking in with calls or visits ASAP.

  “Give us a few days to figure out what is going on, okay? Then we can get you settled in any place you want to go.”

  Any place...

  For some reason, she thought of Mark.

  He’d kissed her before she left. Had Davis told Brodie that bit, too? Wasn’t a woman supposed to have some secrets?

  Brodie eased back and headed toward her trunk. “Let’s get you settled.”

  Her gaze slid toward the stables. Lady was in there. She used to love riding Lady. Riding fast and hard and feeling the wind whip through her hair.

  “Ava?”

  “You all should have told me about what Shayne said.” She glanced over at him. “I could have told you it was bull. Mark wasn’t involved.”

  Brodie’s gaze became guarded. “Can you say the same thing about his old man?”

  Honestly, she barely remembered him. The man hadn’t come over to their place very much, and he certainly hadn’t socialized often in the community. Gregory Montgomery had kept to himself, and there had been some rumors that he drank...heavil
y.

  But since Ava had been the topic of plenty of rumors that called her a murderer, she hadn’t exactly believed those tales about Gregory.

  “They were engaged once,” Brodie said. “Mom and Gregory Montgomery.”

  “What?” She sure hadn’t seen that little tidbit coming.

  “But then she met dad, and everything changed for her. She broke off the engagement to Gregory, she eloped with Dad...and, well, you know how the rest of that story went.”

  The rest of the story ended with their parents dying.

  “That’s why Mr. Montgomery didn’t come over much. Word is that he and our dad used to be good friends, but there are some things that can change a man.”

  She looked at the lake. The water glistened. She should stare at it and think it was beautiful. Instead, a shiver slid over her as she gazed at the water.

  “We’ll find the man doing this to you,” Brodie promised her. “No one messes with my family.”

  No, those who’d tried—well, they’d found a lethal response waiting from Brodie in the past. “Is Jennifer doing better?” Ava asked. Because his girlfriend— fiancée, now—Jennifer had been attacked, and her attacker had died. Lethal response.

  He smiled. His dimples flashed. “She’s great. She’ll be back in town tonight, and she can’t wait to see you.”

  Jennifer was an interesting woman. On the surface, Ava had thought the woman was a sophisticated, high-society type. Then she’d learned the truth—Jennifer was a tough ex-spy who’d worked to bring down some of the most vicious criminals in the world.

  “What you see...” Ava murmured...is so far from what you actually get.

  She headed around the car and grabbed one of her bags.

  * * *

  AVA HEADED INTO the city during the middle of the day. She stopped by the art museum and checked in. She spent a little time talking with her new supervisor, Kristin Lang. Ava wasn’t scheduled to start for a few days, but she still wanted to get the lay of the land. After her chat with Kristin, she spent some time just walking around the place and admiring the art.

  When she’d first started college, art had been her passion. On too many occasions it was the only way that she could get through so many of those long nights. She hadn’t wanted to talk to a therapist or one of the counselors at the college. After a couple of group sessions, she’d withdrawn from the group. Baring her soul to them had just made her feel even more broken. Instead she’d painted.

  Ava had painted canvases full of darkness and rage. So much red—for the blood and the rage. Rage that would course through her so strongly. She’d been furious at the men who killed her parents and furious with herself because she should have been able to help them, but she hadn’t. She’d done nothing but run.

  Some of her art teachers had seen her working at the studio. They’d wanted her to show her work.

  But she couldn’t. It was too raw. Too personal. Too...much of her soul.

  So when she’d gone to graduate school, she’d focused on art history. She’d lucked out by getting this job. She’d thought about applying for a position far away, maybe taking a job up north or in the east—

  “Ava?”

  She turned at the call and found herself staring into a pair of warm golden eyes.

  Her gaze swept over him. “Alan?”

  “I thought that was you!” He smiled at her, flashing perfectly even white teeth. Then he opened his arms and pulled her into a big hug. “It’s been so long!”

  Years.

  She pulled back. He’d changed from the boy she’d known so long ago. His features were sharper. His blond hair was stylishly pushed back from his forehead. His clothes—perfectly cut. Alan Channing had always been gifted with plenty of money and pull.

  And once, he’d almost had her. At sixteen, she’d thought she loved him. She’d learned—just in time—that Alan wasn’t the boy she’d thought.

  The night my parents died, I was supposed to be with him.

  “I heard that you were going to be working here.” His grin grew even broader. “I was just appointed to the art museum’s board, so we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

  Her gut clenched at that news, but Ava forced a polite smile. “Oh, really? That’s just—” She broke off, unable to think of a polite lie because That’s just terrible wanted to spill from her lips.

  “I’m not the same, Ava.” Alan’s voice deepened as his smile slipped. “I’m not the same jerk I was back then.”

  She lifted her brows. “I don’t remember calling you a jerk.” Hmm...or had she?

  Alan laughed. “Not now, but back then you did. Jerk and plenty of other things—and you were right. I didn’t realize what a total screw-up I was.” His face sobered. “Then...then your parents died. I saw how wrecked you were. Things changed for a lot of people back then.”

  How wrecked she’d been? And she remembered that Alan had tried to talk to her—at the funeral, at school in the weeks that followed. But she hadn’t been able to talk with anyone back then. She’d been walking around in a fog, barely able to get through the days.

  By the time she’d come out of her grief, the whispers had started.

  Did she kill them? Was she in on it?

  And she’d just wanted to run.

  Maybe...maybe it was time she stopped running.

  Isn’t that why I took this job in Austin? Instead of heading up north? Because, deep down, she’d known that she couldn’t run forever.

  Her spine straightened as she stared at him. “I guess we both changed.”

  “We have.” Alan’s head inclined toward her. “Hey, how about we go out and grab some lunch? We can catch up, and perhaps I can start making up for being such a fool all those years ago.”

  Ava shook her head. “Sorry, but I have to go back and meet my brothers.”

  He took a step back. “Right. The brothers.” Alan gave a little shudder. “You know, they used to terrify me. I was almost too afraid to ask you out.”

  She laughed at that. “Oh, Alan...they still terrify people.” Then she eased past him.

  “I’ll be seeing you, Ava,” he murmured, and his hand lightly caressed her arm.

  For an instant, she stilled as a shiver slid over her. It wasn’t the same kind of sensual shiver she got when Mark touched her. This was something else. Something...that was almost like a warning.

  Her steps quickened as she hurried away from Alan.

  Ava headed for the front of the museum. Her heels clicked over the marble floor and—

  Mark was there. Striding through the entrance and heading right for her.

  She stopped. Just froze for a second. His gaze swept around the museum, and then his eyes locked on her. It was rather like watching a hunter lock in on his prey. His saw her, his face tightened and then he began to stride right toward her.

  Her breath quickened as she shook out of her stupor and hurried toward him, too. When they drew closer, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  His lips tightened.

  “Did you follow me?” Her voice rose on that one. No, surely he hadn’t—

  “Some nut broke into my house and threatened you last night.” He yanked a hand through his hair. “So, yes, that made me worry about you a bit. When I found out you were in town—”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “Brodie told me.”

  Well, wonderful, they were all tracking her now. That was what she’d feared. Hello, hyperprotective mode.

  “Since he told me where you were, I guess that means he doesn’t think I’m involved in what happened to your parents.”

  “None of them think you were involved.” She didn’t want to talk about his father, not then. “And I don’t need you following me.”

 
His gaze tracked over her shoulder. “Is that the little jerk you used to date? The one who stood you up for homecoming?” Anger roughened his voice.

  She nearly rolled her eyes. She did quicken her step and head right for the gleaming glass doors that would take her out of the museum. “Yes, that’s Alan Channing. And no, he didn’t stand me up. I broke up with him right before homecoming.” They were outside now, and the heat of the city blasted her. Memories were stirring in her mind, and she found herself blurting, “I heard him bragging about having sex with me to some of his football buddies. He was saying that he’d spend five minutes at the dance with me, then have me naked in the motel room ten minutes later.” At the time, those words had shattered her.

  Then she’d learned there were much, much worse things in life than just the words of some ex-boyfriend.

  “He said what?” Mark demanded. Fury was stamped on his face. Then he spun on his heel and started charging right back up to the museum.

  “Whoa! Wait!” She grabbed him as understanding hit her. He’d been going back in there to find Alan. And do what? “That was a long time ago.”

  “There’s no expiration date on a whooping.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You are not serious!”

  “If he said that about you—” his eyes were a blue fire “—then yes, I’m dead serious.”

  And she’d thought her brothers were bad. “He was a teenager. He said something stupid and I dumped him. End of story.” She’d handled it on her own. “I don’t need you fighting this battle for me.” There was no battle there to fight.

  “But he...hurt you.”

  For some reason, those words made her heart ache. “Do you know who I haven’t thought about? Not once in all of these years?”

  The door to the museum opened. Alan appeared.

  Really bad timing, Alan.

  “Him,” she told Mark as she slid closer to him. Both of her hands were on Mark’s shoulders now because she was more than a little worried he might break away and drive his fist into Alan’s perfect smile. “Because he didn’t matter after that night.”