The Deadly Series Boxed Set

by Jaycee Clark

  “Yeah, well.” Jesslyn picked his mug up and carried it to the table. “I don’t really want herbal stuff right now. So, I’ll wait about fifteen minutes and drink a nice big glass of strong, iced sweet tea. But here.” She gave him a smile and said, “Your herbal stuff.” She set the mug down at the head of the table and plopped down in the next chair. “It’s called chamomile by the way. Sometimes it smells really good, and other times, the smell completely turns me off. This is one of those other times.”

  Jesslyn pulled her right leg up and propped her chin on top. She watched Jock as he walked to the table and lowered his large frame into the wooden chair.

  He dunked the tea bag for a minute. “You okay?” he asked into the awkward silence between them.

  Did he actually care? Yes, she knew he did, but she was tired, and the animosity that still lingered between them was wearing on her.

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  His eyebrow rose in a perfect imitation of his son’s. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  A small chuckle surprised her. “I will be.”

  Finally, he dropped the tea bag back into the mug. His blue eyes bore into hers. “Another nightmare?”

  The fact the whole house knew of her dreams was hardly a surprise after she’d awakened everyone screaming on her first night home. She dropped her gaze, jerked her shoulder and nodded.

  “We listened to the dispatch tape today,” she told him. Her chin moving against the back of her hand as she spoke. The slide of the mug between Jock’s palms hushed along the tabletop. “Did Aiden tell you?”

  He ran his tongue around his teeth. “Yeah, he might have mentioned it while you napped this afternoon.”

  “What did he say?”

  Jock shook his head. “Let’s just say, I’ve never seen the boy that mad, and leave it at that.”

  What did that mean?

  “Did you remember anything else?” he asked.

  For such a large man, his deep voice could be very soothing, at least when he wasn’t barking at her, but she didn’t have the energy to get into that right now. Aiden’s voice had that baritone quality, but Jock’s was complete bass.

  “A little, not much of any help though.” For the life of her, Jesslyn didn’t know why, but she sat there and told this man, who had made no secret of disliking her, everything about the memories. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her head, waved her hand. “I don’t know why I went into all that.”

  Jock studied the cooling mug. Jesslyn noted the little paper square still dangled from the floating tea bag. Apparently, Jock didn’t want that herbal stuff after all.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  Her eyes jerked to meet his. Surely she’d misunderstood him. “Excuse me? For what?”

  He shifted his large frame as he sighed. “For my attitude towards you.” A large scarred finger reached up and scratched at the side of his salt-and-pepper hair. “I know I didn’t take to you at first. Truth be known, I wanted Aiden to marry someone else.”

  Warmth spread through her at his words, even if she was a bit shocked. Jesslyn couldn’t help but grin, she knew this man rarely apologized. Reaching over, she patted his hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. Aiden told me you’d adjust,” she joked. “Besides, it’s not like we have any plans to marry.” Did they?

  Jock harrumphed. “Be that as it may, Aiden had the right of it. I should have supported him when he called off the wedding. Left him alone to find his own way. You’d’ve thought I’d’ve learned,” he muttered, his blue eyes piercing her. “And he did, in you. Aiden loves you. I hope you know that.”

  She was taken aback a bit by the power she saw radiating in those cobalt depths. “Yes, I do. He told me in the hospital and every day since.”

  Jock shook his head. “I honestly don’t know what that boy would have done if something had happened to you.”

  “Jock,” she said, raising her brows, “something did happen to me, and Aiden is slowly coming around.” Jesslyn tried to be lighthearted.

  “That’s not what I meant. If you’d . . . After what Aiden told us today . . .” He quickly cut himself off, cleared his throat, and looked down at the mug he still held. “I’m glad you’re in Aiden’s life, and if he’s smart, he’ll make you part of this family.”

  For some absurd reason, Jesslyn felt like crying. Instead she smiled. “Your life will never be the same.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “Thank you, Jock.”

  He nodded. “When is that real tea going to be ready?”

  Jesslyn smiled, the bonding time was over. She squeezed his hand before she got up. “It’ll only take a minute.”

  As she stood, she looked over to the wall by the light switch. For the first time, she noticed the hole in the wall, the fractured sheet rock.

  “What happened there?” she asked as she made the tea.

  “Oh, nothing. Aiden just mentioned the dispatch tape,” Jock evaded.

  Jesslyn turned and cocked a brow. “I knew he was still pissed when we got home.”

  Jock snorted. “Hell, can you blame him? I have a feeling, Missy, that boy is going to be—as you put it—pissed for a good long time.”

  Jesslyn sighed and shook her head. “He’s still not getting the deposit back.”

  Aiden was Aiden.

  • • •

  Aiden quietly stood in the shadow beyond the doorway. Emotion clamped his jaw. He’d awakened and found the bed empty beside him. The fear that had crawled over him made him almost frantic to find Jesslyn, to find her in a cozy chat with his father was surprising.

  Pissed? That was putting it mildly. He would have ripped the damn phone off the wall and thrown it through the window this afternoon, if his mother hadn’t stopped him. Aiden rubbed his hands over his face. If they could just put this all behind them. God after this he needed a real vacation.

  Aiden talked to Ian again tonight. No real information there, but Ian did say that what he found, he’d feed through the “proper channels.” Proper channels being the CBI. Of course, it was a silent agreement between the two that if Ian found out who this murderer was, he’d tell Aiden first. As to what he’d do with that information was still unclear to him.

  Jesslyn’s laughter pulled him back to the moment at hand. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile as another sigh of relief escaped him. Jock Kinncaid apologized to few people, the fact Aiden had heard him do so twice in the last week was almost more than he could believe.

  With a shake of his head, he turned around and headed back to the bedroom.

  Part of the family? Damn straight.

  Chapter 23

  The night was still and quiet around him. The shadows swallowed him. If only the moon were not full and bright.

  Ah well, one did what one must.

  The house was dark. He’d waited and waited.

  It probably had a security alarm. He played with the idea of getting past it, how, he didn’t know.

  But then again, he hadn’t come to get past it. He would just watch again.

  The house beside hers had someone in it watching her. Cops. Thought they were so damn smart, but he’d been here before and no one saw him.

  Last night, he’d seen her standing in the kitchen staring out into the darkness. He’d known it was her, he saw her profile.

  The ground cushioned his footfalls as he made his way to the house. He slipped the knife from his belt. Better to be prepared than sorry. Who knew? Maybe she’d step outside for some fresh air. The tall full trees out front hid him from view as he slipped through the night. Once on the shadowed porch it would be easy.

  Pretty, pretty Jesslyn was causing all sorts of problems.

  • • •

  Jesslyn sat in the window seat. Again sleep eluded her. Monsters and blood stalked her dreams. She was tired of waking Aiden up, he did need his rest too. Of course if he found out she was up and sitting here alone in the dark again, he’d be pissed
, but he’d get over it.

  She looked over at the monitor on her desktop. The scene she’d just typed was tripe. She could see it, feel it, all but taste the kiss the characters shared. But, it was no use. The words were stilted at best, complete crap at worst. Sighing, she looked away and leaned her head against the window. Maybe she should try writing it again in the morning.

  Her eyes watered on her yawn and she settled more against the cool pane of glass and closed her eyes.

  She just needed to think. Tomorrow, she’d get the old pen and tablet out and plot the damn scene by hand. Sometimes that really helped.

  And then . . .

  She was sleepy, so sleepy. No way was she going to sleep.

  Her eyes slid shut and her mind drifted, and drifted. She saw friends and relatives, people she loved.

  It was a party, outside.

  Laughter rang on the air mixing with yells and chatter. Someone called her name and she turned to look. Streamers and banners waved in the breeze, bright and colorful. A great gust of wind blew, tree limbs bowing and shaking until the streamers, like airborne snakes, slithered unattached in the wind.

  The warm air changed and grew cooler.

  The wind carried moans.

  She looked around and noticed the people were all pale. Maddy stood in front, a hand outstretched. Tammy stood beside Maddy offering a bracelet. Other women were in a group behind them. All of them had red hair. Pleading, begging.

  For what she didn’t know.

  “Wake up,” they whispered. “Wake up.”

  The whispers grew to the sound of a hundred wings beating the air.

  What were they trying to tell her?

  Maddy shook her head. “Wake up, Jess. Now!”

  Her eyes snapped open and in the window a face stared back at her, squashed against the glass. Red eyes glowed with a feral light, as the moon glinted off the knife the monster held. The smell of lilies permeated the air.

  She screamed.

  Jesslyn’s breath caught as her eyes shot open. She didn’t move. Not a single muscle. She was afraid to.

  Was she dreaming still? Awake?

  Breathe. Breathe.

  The glass of the window was cool against her forehead. Blinking, she looked out to the darkness beyond. No one, nothing.

  Nothing.

  Just another dumb nightmare.

  But she didn’t move. Something told her to stay still.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied the colorless, moonlit landscape.

  The hair rose on her arms.

  A creak, faintly echoed.

  Was that outside?

  She was going nuts.

  Be still. Be very still.

  The moon shone on the boards of the porch, slanted and silvery.

  Another creak, this time closer. And definitely outside.

  Carefully, she turned her head, to look more out the window.

  Maybe it was just the swing.

  Creak.

  Or the rocker.

  Her office was at the end of the house, behind the living room. If someone were coming, they’d have to walk down the entire side porch.

  Creak.

  Or . . .

  A shadow fell across the slatted boards. A long shadow of a man. Something was held in his hand.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  He came into view, a black silhouette in the night. Whatever was in his hand, he propped on the railing.

  A knife. Images flashed in her brain. Storms and thunder, a man and a knife.

  A knife that cut flesh.

  She took a deep breath and watched as he dragged the knife down the top of the railing.

  Move. Move.

  Quietly, she slid from the window seat and backed away.

  What to do? What did she do?

  Carefully, she backed through the office, never taking her eyes off where she’d been.

  A shadow fell over the window.

  Jesslyn froze, then dropped soundlessly to the floor.

  The man squatted down and peered inside.

  Shaking started deep within her, and terror roared to life.

  He stared in, looking from side to side. She stared out, at him, trying to recognize his shadowed features.

  Who was he?

  Straightening, he moved on down the porch.

  Her breath huffed out and nausea rolled her stomach.

  Quietly, she stood, and found her legs shook. Keeping her eyes on the window, she backed towards the doorway, hit an alarm panel she’d had installed in here. Just as she pushed the button, arms wrapped around her from behind and she screamed, pulling away.

  “Hey! Jessie, it’s me,” Aiden said.

  Aiden.

  “He was here.” The alarm pad beeped and beeped again.

  He looked at her, then whirled around and raced for the back door.

  “Aiden!”

  Feet pounded overhead. She hurried after Aiden. The other man had a damn knife. What was Aiden thinking?

  At the back door she stopped. “Aiden?”

  “Get back inside, damn it.”

  Lights from the house down the lane came on and she could see people running across the lawn towards her house.

  Aiden’s curses echoed through the night.

  The killer was gone. She knew it. Rubbing her arms, the cold settled within her again.

  • • •

  Aiden watched as the police walked the perimeter of the house.

  Her house.

  Damn it. Rage pumped through him still.

  It was three a.m. and everyone was up. Jessie had told her story so many times even he knew it by heart. Yet he still sensed she was leaving something out. He turned from the doorway and walked back into the living room. Jessie sat on the couch talking to Litton, Jones, Garrison and T.J.

  He sat on the back of the couch and put his hands on her shoulders. The muscles beneath his hands were tight and tensed. She probably had a headache.

  “Well, the good news is we may have a print from this guy’s shoe,” Garrison offered.

  Aiden had hoped she’d dreamed the whole thing, that it had been like a sleepwalking nightmare or something. But, the first thing the police asked about was the porch light. No, no one in the family had broken it that day or any other.

  The jagged groove, etched in the top of the railing, was an all too familiar reminder of how close this bastard was.

  Again.

  Aiden decided it was time to move his family to the hotel.

  He rubbed Jessie’s shoulders. From now on, he’d tie her to him at night, damn it.

  “The bad news,” agent Litton continued, “is he knows who you are and where you are, but we’d already figured that. And somehow managed to get past the security next door.”

  Which was a remedy Aiden would fix tomorrow morning. He’d already made the phone call. “Tell me, please,” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “How the hell is it, the man got by the notice of the professionals?”

  The law enforcement officials only looked at him.

  Jones said, “From now on, there will be a patrol car parked outside of the house.”

  Aiden nodded. “Fine, but just so you know, tomorrow there will be someone from our security firm guarding Jesslyn.”

  Jones smiled at him. “Just let him talk to us so that things don’t get confusing.”

  Aiden conceded that point, and ignored the fact that Jessie was trying to turn around to glare at him.

  He’d already made a phone call this evening. Ian was worried about this guy feeling pressured and making, albeit dumb, risky moves. Risky moves could still take Jessie away from him. So, Ian said someone would be there in the morning to keep an eye on things. Aiden had asked if it would be him, but Ian, apologizing, said no, though he’d love to help out, he’d only be able to send someone.

  The man’s name was John and he’d be here around eight.

  “You know, Jess,” T.J. said, then looked to him. “You could always go away for a
while.”

  That was a damn good idea. He’d already thought of that, just wondered how to broach the subject with her.

  “No.”

  “But . . .”

  Jessie looked at her friend. “And if he killed someone else while I was away, because I wasn’t here?”

  Aiden’s sigh mixed with T.J.’s.

  “No,” Jessie said again. “I won’t run away. I’m not hiding so he can find someone else to murder. I don’t like the fact he watches me, or knows me, or whatever, but at least he’s not out killing some other redheaded woman. I’m just a loose end he wants to take care of.”

  He tightened his hands on her shoulders. She leaned her head back. “I’m not going,” she told him. “Hire your Doberman, just don’t expect me to pack up and leave.”

  “How long would it take you to forgive me if I just drugged you and put you on my plane?”

  Her brow cocked and she only said, “You don’t want to find out.”

  The discussion continued and it was another half hour before the house was left to just the Kinncaids. The only addition was the lone policeman sitting in the marked Explorer outside.

  Aiden pulled Jessie to her feet and led her upstairs.

  In the shower, he leaned down and kissed her neck. “Just think, Jessie. Sandy beaches, crystal waters, just you and me.”

  “I’d get burned.”

  “There’s sunscreen.”

  “No,” she said, turning in his arms, her hands sudsy with lather smoothed over his chest.

  “Europe? Let’s go to Ireland. Grammy would love to meet you.”

  When she smiled, he knew she was wavering.

  “Scotland?”

  Her wet body slid against his.

  “I have a castle.”

  “That’s what they all say. What about your gala thing at the hotel?”

  The grand opening was tomorrow night. Actually, they’d been accepting guests and reservations for the last two weeks. But every last detail was finished today, or rather yesterday.

  “Okay, we wait till after the party. Everyone is leaving Sunday anyway and heading back to Maryland. We’ll just leave with them.” He wiped water away from her face as he kissed her on the mouth.