The Deadly Series Boxed Set

by Jaycee Clark

  “I would have fixed it, but as she said, there wasn’t any,” Tim said. Then his friend leveled a cold steely gaze on her. “You should be in bed or something.”

  T.J. snorted.

  “You know me better than that.” She took a sip of the coffee and winced.

  He watched as she set the mug down and poured sugar in the black brew.

  “Need some syrup?” he asked.

  “I like it sweet, thank you very much.”

  Apparently.

  This time when she sipped it, she closed her eyes on a sigh. “There is nothing like a good cup of coffee.”

  Aiden could argue that point with her, but for some reason, he had the sneaking suspicion in the end he’d lose.

  “So how long have you two known each other?” she asked them, pointing to him and Tim.

  “Since college,” Tim answered.

  “Huh.”

  Aiden watched her over the rim of his cup. She had on some sort of tight black pants—leggings, weren’t they?—with a large black fleece shirt. And little, sexy, black oval wired glasses.

  Black liked black. It seemed too pat, too cliché.

  “You should get some rest, Jess,” Tim said.

  She shrugged. “So should you. And you,” she added to her friend. “But I won’t, so there’s no point in trying to talk me into it.” She moved away from the counter. “I’m going to write. Y’all make yourselves at home.”

  “You and that damn computer,” Tim muttered.

  “Denial,” T.J. added.

  “Yeah, well, at least I can control it,” she added quietly and left the room.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Aiden thought maybe he’d go get some sleep. But instead, he sat at the table with Tim and T.J. “Is she always like this, or is it just tonight with everything?”

  Tim had told him about how the woman had found her friend murdered and had a run-in with the guy. The thought floored Aiden.

  “Jesslyn?” Tim asked. “Yeah, she was when she first moved here. Then, I don’t know, it got better.”

  The other woman shook her head. “No, we all just got used to her prickly nature.”

  Tim shrugged. “She works and writes, that’s about all I know. Jesslyn is just Jesslyn.”

  “Oh,” a voice said from the doorway. They all turned. “I forgot, I’ll stock the fridge later today if you’ll leave a list of what you like. And I’ll get all my stuff moved to the cottage so you can move into the master suite,” Jesslyn said, her eyes on him.

  Move into the bedroom? His gut tightened and he had no idea why. Okay, he did, but he’d just as well ignore it. She had stay back plastered all over her. Aiden watched her, leaning in the doorway, her wet hair slicked back from her long, heart-shaped face, her complexion smooth and unadorned. Except for those little glasses. Who would have known he’d find glasses sexy?

  “What?” he asked, clearing his throat.

  She cocked a brow and frowned. He wondered how she did that. “Move out to the cottage. That’s how I do things. All rooms except the back office are free to roam. Damage is charged to the renter and—”

  “I know, I read the damn contract,” he said.

  “Then what are you asking?”

  “Do you think it wise to move out there now?”

  “Why?” Her fingers thrummed on the door frame.

  “Well, considering what’s happened and all, I didn’t think the police wanted you alone?”

  “I’m not alone. You’re here in the house, and Barney will be out in the driveway.”

  “Barney?”

  She waved her hand as if swatting a fly. “Barney Fife.”

  T.J. clarified, “Merrick. The cop outside.”

  Jesslyn sighed, telling him it was pointless to explain. “Never mind.”

  The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t like the idea of her out over the garage all alone. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “And you have a say because . . .”

  “He’s right,” T.J. added.

  Who the hell knew why he wanted a say.

  “Thank you.” He saluted the policewoman with his mug. “As the person renting this place, it would be a tad awkward if something were to happen to you because you were up there and I was in here with the alarm system. Which reminds me.” Aiden stared at her hard. “Did you bother to turn it on?”

  She waved her hand. “It’s broken, or glitchy or something.”

  “Damn it, Jess,” T.J. said, turning to glare at her friend. “You said you’d get it fixed.”

  “I’ll have someone come out and look at it,” Aiden said.

  “It’s my house,” she told him, narrowing her eyes.

  “So?”

  She shook her head. “Are you always like this?”

  He smiled. “Like what?”

  “Nosy? Pushy? Arrogant?”

  “Yes. Always.”

  “How annoying.” She turned and walked away.

  Tim chuckled. “You two. What happened to your fabled charm? Used to be all you had to do was smile at them and they fell at your feet.”

  “I think it was more the name they were after.” Like Brice had been.

  “She burned you really good, didn’t she? You ever gonna tell me why you really called off the wedding two months before the big event?” Tim asked, sipping his coffee.

  “I realized she wasn’t the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” Among other things.

  “Well, my friend, few are. They’re like spiders, draw us in, wrap us up, and suck us dry.”

  Aiden chuckled. “Another wonderful experience for you too, huh?”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “I won’t.”

  “So back to you and Jesslyn,” Tim persisted.

  “Men,” T.J. mumbled, shoving her chair back and leaving the room.

  Chapter 4

  Jesslyn refilled her coffee cup, the quiet of the house settling around her. For the last hour she’d typed on her latest manuscript. Her heroine was currently being kidnapped and the hero was pissed because she hadn’t stayed where he’d told her to. Not a lot of work, but at least it was something she could do.

  Something to keep her busy, her mind occupied.

  A place to hide.

  Stop shrinking yourself.

  At least I don’t have to pay some quack to do it.

  Grabbing a throw off the pine Southwest ladder against the wall, she opened the front door and quietly closed it.

  “Oh,” she said, setting her mug on the wooden railing of her porch and tossing her throw into the rocker.

  The Hewetts walked up her driveway. When she’d first moved here, David and Sally Hewett, owners of one of the local coffee shops, The Mountain Bean, had hired her. She’d gotten to know them both. The Hewetts were one of those couples who looked alike. Both were of the same medium height, both lean, and both fair-colored and complected.

  “Please, tell me you brought me some real coffee,” she said, stepping off the steps.

  Sally hurried forwards and engulfed her in a hug, sniffling. “I’m so sorry, Jess. So sorry.” Sally patted her back and pulled away.

  Jesslyn only nodded.

  “Are you okay?” David asked, handing her a large paper cup with a slanted white lid.

  She opened it and sniffed. Ah. She could smell the espresso. Nectar of the gods.

  “You will be in my will.” Closing her eyes, she took a tentative sip. Perfect.

  “We know it’s early,” Sally said, “but we thought we’d stop by on the off chance you’d be up.”

  Jesslyn gave her a small smile. “You know me and how much I generally sleep. After last night, I did not care to ‘get some rest’ as so many advised.”

  “You have company?” David asked, looking at the cop car and man behind the wheel.

  Jesslyn nodded. “Yeah, my renter for one, Tim and T.J.”

  “Well, if I’d known that, I would have brought more coffee,�
�� Sally offered.

  “Thanks.”

  “We’ll leave you alone,” Sally said, her blond bob swinging as she latched onto David. “We’re heading to the shop. If you need anything, Jess, anything at all, you give us a call.”

  Jesslyn nodded, awkwardly returned both their hugs and watched as they drove off.

  Sighing, she took another drink of the strong brew and walked back to her deep-set porch. It wasn’t even dawn yet. She sat, drew her knees to her chest, wrapping the blanket around her. The rocker creaked. Cold morning air, crisp with the fragrance of pine, mixed with the perfume of wildflowers.

  The sky lightened as the sun awoke behind the mountain. It was after six and her system was starting to slack, but she didn’t dare go to sleep. Therein lay the way to madness.

  Nightmares and blood.

  No thank you.

  The door behind her opened and Jesslyn turned.

  T.J., her cheeks flushed, her dark hair spiked, shoved her shirt into her pants.

  Jesslyn thought for about two seconds. T.J. had been coming around The Dime a lot lately. She hadn’t thought much of it, but now . . .

  “Tinks, did you leave Peter Pan asleep or make him fly?”

  “Peter Pan?”

  “Tim.”

  A grin flitted around the corner of T.J.’s mouth. She reached over and snatched up Jesslyn’s forgotten mug off the railing, gulping the coffee down.

  “Oh, we flew,” she muttered. “We flew.”

  Jesslyn chuckled. “Yeah, that fairy dust does it every time, huh? Did you make him wish on stars?”

  T.J. shook her head. “Hell, he made me see them.”

  “Oh, do tell.”

  She checked her watch. “I can’t. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.” She handed the mug back to Jesslyn. “I wasn’t thinking, that was it.”

  “Who said something to me about denial earlier?”

  T.J. ignored the remark.

  “You running out?” Jesslyn tsked.

  “I’m going to the station, I think.” T.J. leaned over and gave her hug. “Give me a call later, and for God’s sake, keep a lookout.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  At the steps, T.J. turned. “You’re too damn pale. Go not-think with Kinncaid. That man is one a woman could just lap up in one gulp. He looks like he could put some color in your cheeks. On second thought, don’t gulp, you should definitely savor. Slowly.”

  Jesslyn ignored her and rocked, watching as T.J. left. The coffee was good, but her stomach was starting to hurt. She shifted in the rocker.

  Again the door behind her opened and Jesslyn turned. Aiden Kinncaid.

  A day’s worth of stubble shadowed his jaw line. It had only been an hour since she’d seen him, but he’d showered, his hair was still wet. Instead of dress pants and a button down, he wore jeans and a dark blue Henley, a plaid shirt thrown on over it.

  “Didn’t go back to bed?” she asked. His cologne wafted on the air and she licked her lips. Lap him up?

  “Didn’t see the point.” His voice was still as deep and calm as she remembered. “You?”

  “Nope.”

  He stood in the door, a mug in hand, and stared at her.

  “What?”

  For a moment he didn’t say anything, then he stepped out onto the porch with her, sitting in the other rocker.

  “I apologized for jumping all over you earlier about the cop thing,” he said.

  “Yeah? I remember. Taking it back now?”

  He didn’t smile, his face impassive. “I’m sorry about your friend. Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  Jesslyn quickly looked out over the mountains. Of all the things she thought he’d say, that hadn’t been it. Dawn was approaching, the mountains coming slowly to life. Life. “‘And our hearts . . . like muffled drums, are beating marches to the grave.’ Longfellow, I believe.” She took a deep breath.

  “You two were close?” he asked, jerking her gaze back to him.

  “Longfellow?” He didn’t so much as grin. She took a deep breath. “Maddy. Yeah, in a way we were. Not childhood best friends, but we were close. Talked. She was,” she stopped. How to explain when she was only herself beginning to understand? His eyes held her stare. Out here, they were the color of the darkened sky in the west as the sun slowly rose in the east.

  “She was what?” he prodded, his voice soothing.

  What happened to the smart-ass he’d been earlier? Where did this guy come from?

  “If you don’t want to talk about this, that’s fine. Sorry, don’t mean to pry,” he mumbled, taking a drink of his coffee.

  His eyes never left hers and Jesslyn found herself talking.

  “Maddy was this spunky, no-nonsense woman that pulled me back.”

  “From?”

  Smiling, she tried for flippant. “The Pit of Despair.” Jesslyn shrugged, the chilled morning air teasing her hair. “She—Maddy, T.J. and I had some great girl nights. She was a good friend. I wish I had been a better one to her.” Jesslyn shivered, remembering the blood, the stench of the flowers and the man. The man with the knife.

  “Are you cold? I can grab you another blanket.”

  She shook her head. “No, but thanks.”

  Jesslyn took another long drink of her coffee, and as the black acid hit her stomach, she held her breath, waiting for the pain to abate. So she was stupid, what else was new?

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I am sorry about your friend.”

  “Yeah, I am too. Thanks.”

  Silence stretched between them. She could hear the cars whirring by on the highway, people traveling up and down the mountain.

  “This must be hard for you all things considered,” he said, quietly.

  “Ah, Timothy has been talking again.”

  She heard the scratch of his fingers on his stubble, like sandpaper. For some odd reason she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Jesslyn looked at him.

  She needed sleep.

  “Actually, he was warning me off you.”

  She blinked. That didn’t sound like Tim. “Really?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am. Normally, he’s trying to set me up and get me to move on with life.” She really didn’t want to get into the past tonight. Maddy. Jerrod. Hannah. Holden. Too many deaths, too much pain. Shoving the thoughts aside, she took another deep breath of mountain air and tried to identify the smells. It was a trick she’d learned when she’d first moved here. It relaxed her. Sometimes.

  “I’m sorry too about your family.” He shook his head, frowning.

  “You didn’t know them.” Realizing that was rude, she added, “But thanks.”

  “I can’t imagine,” he muttered.

  No one could. The pain she’d gone through after the accident had taken her entire family. Her husband, her children. “I’d never wish for you to.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes we find out anyway, don’t we?” His voice hardened.

  “Who did you lose?” she asked.

  He opened his mouth, looked at her, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. Damn, I seem to say that a lot to you. I didn’t mean to bring all this up.”

  She took another drink of the lukewarm coffee. Pain twisted her stomach, harder to ignore than the ones she’d had earlier. Maybe she should go in and get something to eat, but food didn’t sound appealing. An antacid would be good.

  “I know,” she muttered, at his remark. “Death is one of those sticky subjects people tend to avoid.”

  He made some noise in the back of his throat. She had no idea what it meant, let alone what to say back to this man sitting on her front porch with her at dawn.

  Life was strange.

  She really should have eaten something. Nausea swirled through the pain in her stomach. The espresso was already hitting her system, she could feel it skitter along her limbs.

  Aiden was silent, pulling her gaze back to him. His eyes were so intense as he studied her. Jesslyn tried to think of
everything she’d said, but her tired brain wouldn’t cooperate. “Sorry. I’m probably not making any sense. I’m tired.”

  “You could always go to sleep.”

  “Not a chance.” She vehemently shook her head. “Soon as I do, especially in this state, the dreams will come.” And she had enough to deal with right now besides worrying about nightmares.

  “Normally women like dreams of me,” he said lightly. His lips spread into a grin and that dimple winked at her from his cheek. Jesslyn took a deep breath.

  Big mistake, his cologne filled her nose and mouth.

  If nothing else, the man made her smile. “It’s probably the only place they get satisfied.”

  His eyes widened and he shifted as if ready to pounce. “Care to test that theory?”

  What the hell was with her when she talked to this guy?

  Care to test that theory? The thought warranted some consideration, but . . . well . . .

  “It would be sad to see your ego deflated.” She knew she was talking too much, but it seems she wasn’t exactly normal around Aiden. The early morning light played with his face, casting it in shadows, highlighting the planes and angles. Eyes, such a rich blue, stared back at her. His hair was a little long for her image of a CEO, but that was okay. The black stubble peppering his strong jaw gave him a sexy early morning look. God, what a face. She saw he was tired, not like her. She didn’t think this had anything to do with emotions. Or maybe it did.

  Aiden watched her study him, the way her dark eyes narrowed, the way she pulled her bottom lip in. His gut twitched and his body responded to her. Care to test that theory? What the hell was he thinking? “Like what you see?” he asked.

  “Thank God,” she muttered, a smile edging her mouth.

  “What?”

  “I’d begun to wonder where you’d gone. The charmer threw me there for a while.”

  “Where I’d gone?”

  “The smart-ass.”

  “Normally I’m the charmer. You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly.

  “What question?”

  “Like what you see?”

  She only smiled at him. “Haven’t decided yet.”

  The woman had a way of keeping him on his toes. It was a new experience. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  The crunch of gravel turned her attention to the drive that led into the estates from the highway.