by Jaycee Clark
He shook his head and left.
Jesslyn leaned her head back against the cushions and waited. She hoped he remembered she liked orange juice and not milk. Yawning, she cuddled down into the blanket and reached for the remote. Glancing guiltily at the doorway, she cut on the television and flipped it to a news channel.
“What the hell is she doing out of bed?” Mr. Kinncaid boomed from the kitchen.
She strained to hear the voices and answers, but they were mumbled and lost in the clang and clatter of dishes. Her own father probably would have said the same thing. He flew back to Idaho late yesterday. It had been great seeing him, though she felt bad for worrying him so much, and Victor Black had been worried for her. But as the days passed in the hospital and she’d gotten better, though she still couldn’t remember a damn thing, he’d relaxed. And he and the Kinncaids had gotten along pretty well, at least, as far as she could tell. When he’d left yesterday, her dad had only said, “I’m glad you’re okay. It’s great to see you smiling again, Jess. Aiden’s a good guy.”
That thought still made her smile. Her dad liked Aiden. Now whether Aiden’s dad liked her was still questionable in her mind.
“Okay,” Aiden’s voice made her jump. “Here are the pancakes complete with Mom’s special apple walnut compote.”
Jesslyn scooted up as he set the tray on her lap. Pancakes, fruit and orange juice. She smiled and looked up at Aiden, who sat at the other end of the couch. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too tired being down here, are you?” His gaze ran over her face.
“I’m fine, Aiden. Quit worrying.” She picked up the juice and took a long swallow.
“Missy, you should be in bed,” Mr. Kinncaid said.
Carefully, she sat the juice down and looked up at the man. “But then I’d miss sparring with you, Mr. K.”
His finger waggled at her. “You eat everything on that plate. You’re skinny and pale enough. You look like you could fade away into the cushions of the couch.” Turning to his son, he ordered, “Aiden, make sure she eats.”
“Yes, Dad. It’s a constant battle between us.”
Kaitlyn walked up to stand beside Jock and said, “Jock, dear, leave them alone.”
“Yeah, Dad,” said a newcomer in the room. “Your bark is enough to give her a headache.” This was one of the twins. Gavin Kinncaid, the doctor, she’d spoken to him in the hospital. The other one was Brayden, who had the little girl. Both favored their father in the rough, blunted features, though the coloring of eyes and hair were the same as Aiden’s. Jesslyn figured they all inherited the jet-black hair and cobalt eyes from Jock.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Gavin asked, reaching out to take her pulse.
Jesslyn jerked her hand back. “Excuse me, you’re not my doctor.”
He flashed her a smile. “I’m everyone’s doctor.”
The charming, witty ob-gyn.
“I’ll just bet you are,” Jesslyn answered.
His grin grew. “I figure if I take your pulse and tell them all you’re fine, they’d listen to me as a doctor. Aiden might back off enough so that you could eat and Dad would quit grumbling and biting.”
Jesslyn sighed and held her arm out. His fingers were cool against her wrist.
After several seconds, Gavin turned to everyone. “Her heart rate is a bit elevated.” He reached his hand out to her forehead, and she pulled back, but he followed. “Yep, and she’s kinda warm. Might have a low-grade fever.”
“I knew it!” Aiden all but leapt off the couch. He started to take the tray.
“See,” Jock said. “I told you she should be in bed.”
Gavin started laughing, and Jesslyn was clamping her hands on the tray that Aiden tried to take away.
“I’m joking,” Gavin admitted.
Aiden whirled on him. “That’s not fucking funny! She could have died!”
Gavin backed up and negligently sat in the chair, his palms up. “Sorry, thought I’d liven things up.”
Jock muttered something in the doorway.
“Gavin, dear,” Kaitlyn said. “I don’t think you want to press your brother right now. I wouldn’t feel the need to interfere if he knocked your teeth down your throat.”
Jesslyn couldn’t help it, she laughed. This family was unlike any she’d ever met.
Gavin pointed to her. “See, she’s laughing.”
Aiden was still glaring at his brother.
“She’s fine, Aiden. Everything is normal.” Gavin’s serious face must have convinced Aiden because he only shook his head and sat again on the couch.
Jesslyn started eating. Finally, she looked up to the Kinncaids still in the doorway. Jock leaned on the door frame and held Kaitlyn in his arms.
“Mrs. K? These are the very best pancakes ever.” In fact, she could probably eat few more.
“Why, thank you, dear. And it’s Kaitlyn. I’m glad to see you eating. You look good this morning.”
Jesslyn smiled. “Thank you.” She looked to Aiden, who sat watching her every move. “See, I told you I felt fine.”
“You’re still not going to the parade,” he told her.
“Well, of course she’s not,” Jock said. “And speaking of which, we should get going.”
They ought to be warned. “Make sure you sit in a dry zone,” she said.
“A dry zone?” Gavin asked.
Definitely warned. “This isn’t your average Fourth of July parade with brass bands and pompoms. The only real band I’ve ever seen is a German polka band that comes in from somewhere. Most of the floats are trailers with equipment on them. The fire trucks are a big hit and I always love the library’s float.”
She settled back into the corner of the couch. “In certain areas the fire trucks open up their hoses and spray the water above the crowd, getting the said people wet; thus, wet zones. Make sure you sit in a dry zone.”
“And that’s the biggest thing?” Jock asked, obviously trying to figure out the dynamics of the community.
“Um, actually no,” Jesslyn said, popping a bite into her mouth.
Aiden squeezed her knee. “And?”
“Everyone waits for the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory to come dancing through,” she told them, smiling at Aiden.
It was great to see Jessie smiling again.
That one-sided grin peeked out at him, Aiden leaned over and kissed her. “Why do people wait to see some science group?”
Her grin grew and he caught the twinkle in her eye. “Because, they tie wild cabbage leaves together and prance down the street. Some don’t bother with clothing underneath.” Jessie shrugged and took another bite of his mother’s pancakes. He was glad to see her eating again.
“Oh my,” his mother said.
“Cool, naked women. Something different for me,” Gavin quipped.
Jessie turned to Aiden’s brother. “You’re a smart-ass, Gavin.”
“I’m so glad someone’s noticed,” he answered back
“Are there naked men?” Kaitlyn asked.
Jessie’s eyebrows shot straight up and Aiden swiveled on the couch to look back at his mother.
“Kaitie!” his father said.
Jessie chuckled. “Sadly, there have been known to be. Of course, if you watch the cowboys that come down the street, some of those young buckaroos give a new meaning to bare back.” She clasped her hand to her chest and sighed. “What some of them can do to a pair of chaps.”
“Chaps is the right word in my opinion,” Gavin said ruefully.
“Really?” his mother drew out.
“Kaitlyn Kinncaid, that’s enough. I won’t have my wife ogling other naked men.”
Jessie laughed her full throaty laugh that made him want to kiss her.
“How young?” Aiden asked her, nudging her knee.
“Any cowgirls?” Gavin inquired at the same time.
“Missy, are you joking?” his father wanted to know.
&nb
sp; She finished off her juice. “I don’t know, Gavin. Watch and see,” she answered his brother.
“A naked cowgirl, there’s a fantasy.” Gavin nodded and rubbed his hands together.
“Gavin, please, a mother’s ears shouldn’t hear these things.” Kaitlyn shook her head and smiled.
“Missy, I asked you a question,” Jock reminded Jessie, while patting the air down next to his wife.
“No, I’m not joking. Some of the locals seem to strip at any opportunity. The ski patrol and mountain workers used to wait till the end of the season and . . .” Jessie lowered her voice. “Ski down the mountain stark naked.”
“My, God. We’re in Sodom and Gomorrah,” his father replied.
Again her laughter rang out. “It’s not that bad. Some around here are just a little more . . . liberated than others.”
“Maybe we should just stay here,” Jock said.
“You wouldn’t be missing much if you did,” she agreed.
What?
“I though you wanted to go to the parade?” Aiden asked her.
Jessie licked syrup off the edge of her mouth, her tongue darting out. Aiden shifted on the couch at his reaction to that simple action.
“Well, I figured if I asked for something big, like the parade, the living room and breakfast wouldn’t seem so drastic.”
She’d manipulated him and he’d fallen for it.
Damn it, this was her health they were talking about. Aiden opened his mouth to say something, pointing his finger at her, but nothing came to mind.
“That’s the way, Jesslyn,” his mother said. “Men bully, and women think. You go, girl.”
Aiden didn’t really care for her input here. You go, girl? Where had his mother learned that?
“I’m ready for the parade!” Six-year-old Victoria Kinncaid barreled into the living room. Her father, Brayden, followed behind her. “Hi, Jesslyn. Are you feeling better today? I’m going to the parade. I want to get a balloon.”
Jessie smiled softly at his niece. “I’m feeling much better. Thank you, Victoria.”
The little girl stood by the couch. “Oh, call me Tori. Everyone does. Unless I’m in trouble, then it’s Victoria Reily Kinncaid.”
Jessie’s grin grew. “All right, Miss Victoria Reily Kinncaid, I will call you Tori. Try to talk your daddy into sitting up close to the curb so you can catch the candy the parade people toss.”
Tori nodded. “I will.”
Everyone shuffled out. Aiden watched them all go. His mother leaned over and kissed Jessie on the cheek and his father told him to make sure she rested. Gavin winked at her as Bray and Tori made their way out the door. Quinlan didn’t have time for the parade. He was going to the hotel. Christian, or Chris, Bills was the last out of the house, carrying Tori’s backpack.
When the door shut and the house silenced, he turned back to Jessie.
“How does Chris fit in with your family again?” she asked.
“Well, she’s been with our family for six, no seven years. I think.” Hell, he couldn’t remember. “Christian showed up at my parents’ house one weekend when Tori was just a baby. Hired her as the nanny. She’s helped Bray raise Tori, and been with the family ever since. She’s part of the family. As far as we’re concerned, she’s our sister, and Tori thinks of her as a mom.”
Jessie yawned and sighed.
Aiden reached over and moved the tray. “You tired, Miss Devious?”
Her grin warmed him.
She nodded. Carefully, he picked her up and cradled her next to him. Her fruity shampoo tickled his nose as he carried her up the stairs.
He sat on the bed with her, leaned them back and settled her under the covers. “Do you need anything?”
“Can we turn on the TV?”
He kissed the top of her head and reached for the remote. “You aren’t balking at being back in bed?”
“I got to eat breakfast downstairs, didn’t I?”
She had. Aiden wanted to keep her in bed until she was back to her old self. She was still too damn pale and the side of her face and head was still molted with different shades of purples, blues and greens. He hadn’t asked her this morning, but he wondered if she remembered anything about the attack.
“Besides, I figure if I go along easily, you might let me watch the fireworks tonight downstairs, out on the porch.” She yawned again.
“You can see the valley from the balcony right out there.” He pointed towards the doors that led out to their private deck. He’d ask her if she remembered anything later. Tomorrow they were supposed to go to the police station to talk to Garrison and a couple of people from CBI.
“Yeah, the balcony would work too.”
“Go to sleep.”
“If I do, I won’t sleep tonight,” she said.
Aiden rubbed her shoulder and inwardly sighed. He was worried about her, but he was glad she was home with him. The hospital had her tense and uptight the whole time, and knowing what he did from her and what her father had told him, it was no wonder she couldn’t relax there. Too many bad memories on top of a horrifying situation.
Some bastard had tried to kill her, and damn near succeeded. Aiden couldn’t get past that. He looked down at her and noticed she was already asleep. A smile caught him off guard. She thought she was so strong, and she was, but sometimes she needed someone to take care of her, whether she admitted it or not.
Garrison called daily. The couple of times Jessie had talked to him, she’d become so upset, Aiden had put a stop to it. Or he tried. Woman was damned stubborn. Now, they were going tomorrow to the station. When he told her they could meet here at the house, she’d replied she didn’t want this brought into her home.
Tammy’s mother had also called. Aiden didn’t know what was said, and Jessie hadn’t told him, but she hadn’t talked for over an hour after that phone conversation.
Ian called every night at the same time. He was currently cross-checking missing persons and other unsolved murders in other states. Apparently it was taking longer to find this guy than anyone cared for.
It didn’t matter how long it took. Aiden would find out who the bastard was who dared to touch what was his.
Chapter 20
Damn. Damn. And damn again. Stupid. So pointlessly stupid. If he’d only finished the job. He paced his confines, thought about what to do. Berlioz blared through his speakers. The dissonant notes filled the air as the bells bonged.
The fact Jesslyn was still alive beat at him like a time bomb.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
He wanted to laugh at the whole situation. What were the chances? Not that it mattered. She was alive, and she was a threat. Still. He stopped, his brow furrowed.
He’d gone to see her in the hospital. Several times in fact. A few she knew about, others she didn’t.
But she was never alone! It would have been so easy at first, but someone was always with her, Kinncaid, or one of his brothers, her father, Kinncaid’s father, even his damn mother, then the doctor and nurses. Hell, the woman always had what might as well have amounted to a bodyguard.
No, the hospital was out of the question. Though it would have been perfect. No one would have questioned it much. She’d been so small, frail, weak. It could have been over before she or anyone else had even realized what had happened. Something in her IV, a pillow over her head. Or he could just mark her as he did the others. It didn’t matter now.
A sign of the cross. Four perfect points, right over their betraying hearts. To remind them. To remind them of God’s will. To try and give them redemption in that last moment. Everyone knew that the way to redemption was through the cross. Through the cross. Through the cross.
Jesslyn might not be her, but she still had to die. There was simply no other choice. He didn’t like it. He didn’t. The thought rolled his stomach, but failure was not an option. He shook his head and raked his hands through his hair. Not an option. God told him what he must do, the stars told him what he must do. Everything told h
im, screamed it in his mind. It didn’t matter what he wanted.
In that moment like a visage from the depths of his memory, he saw his mother laughing. Her head thrown back in joyous laugher before she ruffled his hair.
Those had been good times. Times before her.
He fisted his hands against the side of his head. Then he remembered his father with her long red hair slung over his arm as he carried her limp body out into the night.
He remembered the fights, the screams and yells. He remembered finding his mother in the bathtub.
The sound of his father’s prevaricating voice, the voice the congregation followed, listened to, prayed with and for, filled his mind. That same voice, lashing out at him, demanding more. Always more, always better. He could never stray. Never stray. Not like his father. They’d made him betray his vows with their wicked, evil ways and their black hearts.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
He shook his head, fought off the battles of the past, focused on the present, the possibilities of the future. Slowly, he lowered his hands. Apparently, Jesslyn didn’t remember, or that was the rumor going around.
But the mind was a funny thing. The simple fact that she could . . .
He had seen the recognition in her eyes just as he had crushed the flashlight into the side of her head.
Yes, she had to die. Had to die. Had to die. And soon.
He chewed on his lip. There was a way, there always was. He’d simply watch her, and strike when she least expected it.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Chapter 21
Jesslyn sat in the sparse office of the Police Chief. Aiden stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, a constant comfort and reassurance. Behind the desk sat Chief Garrison. Lounging against the wall beside Garrison was CBI Agent Steve Litton. By the window was Litton’s partner, Agent Cynthia Jones. The faces of all present were tense and serious.
“Jesslyn, this isn’t an interrogation,” Garrison said again.
“Well, it feels like it. I’ve told you, I don’t remember.” They had been here for at least an hour.
Derrick Garrison had come by the hospital once, the house twice, and finally yesterday, she agreed to coming here. Aiden didn’t like it—he was so protective he was driving her nuts. He was caring, tender, loving, and so incredibly quiet as though a loud noise would hurt her. She’d had enough.
