Danger Zone

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Danger Zone Page 8

by Stacy Claflin


  “Got a favorite?”

  “Peppermint mocha.” The words flew from her mouth before she knew it. That was Dad’s signature drink. Why had she said that?

  Damon’s dimple appeared. “I love those.” He turned to the barista and ordered two before spinning back around to Ariana. “Want to find a seat? I’ll join you when the drinks are ready.”

  “I should pay for mine.”

  He gave a dramatic eye roll and waved her toward the tables.

  She couldn’t say no to that, so she went over to a corner table farther from the others. They could also see his car from the window, which he was sure to appreciate. Once settled into the seat, she watched Damon. Even though the air headed barista flirted with him, he didn’t flirt back.

  Ari smiled. He was a total gentleman, and that made this seem more like a date than a study session.

  He held out the two drinks. “Which one do you want?”

  “Aren’t they the same?”

  “Yeah, but you pick the first one.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care. Just hand me one.”

  “No, you choose.”

  “Okay. The one on the right.”

  He slid it in front of her, then instead of taking the seat across from her he sat next to her. They were both wearing shorts, and their bare legs brushed against each other.

  Ariana’s breath caught.

  “Did you get your essay back yet?” Damon drank his coffee.

  “Mrs. Kellerman said probably tomorrow.” Ari sipped her mocha.

  He squeezed her knee. “You’ll have to give me the good news tomorrow, then.”

  She choked on her drink. “Good news?”

  “About your A. You’ve earned it.” He squeezed again.

  Her face flooded with heat, and she shook her head. “Mrs. Kellerman never gives A’s.”

  “Rarely, not never.” His hand inched up from her knee to her leg.

  Ari’s heart pounded so loudly she couldn’t hear what Damon was saying. He looked at her expectantly, like he had asked a question.

  She struggled to breathe. “What?”

  He squeezed her leg, then let go and reached for his bag. “Where should we start? Did she assign a new essay?”

  Ariana managed to find her voice. “We’re, uh, reading a book now. The report will come after we’re done.”

  “Which book?” Damon’s hand rested on her leg, higher than before. He sipped his drink like it was no big deal.

  Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. She didn’t want him to think she was a baby, so she tried to focus on her assignment. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  “One of Shakespeare’s best.” His dimple reappeared. “I’ve got that one on my phone. Want to read together?”

  “Okay.” She swallowed, unable to pull her attention away from his hand. It felt ten times hotter than the rest of her skin.

  He grabbed his phone with his free hand and scrolled through his apps until he pulled up the book. “Have you started reading yet?”

  She shook her head.

  “Oh, good. We can read the whole thing. Did I mention I love this one?”

  “Yeah.”

  He leaned closer so their shoulders were touching and he read the old English with the eloquence of someone who’s spent hours practicing.

  “You want to take a turn?” He let go of her leg.

  She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I like listening to you.” Her cheeks warmed after admitting that. “Unless you need a break. I can read.”

  “I’m happy to.” Damon put his arm around her and leaned even closer. Well, his arm was technically resting on the back of the chair, but it was still around her. He began reading again.

  Ariana scooted closer to him, so that she was snuggled up right against him. She half-expected him to move away. Instead, he rested his hand on her shoulder and played with a lock of her hair. It was a good thing he couldn’t feel her sweaty palms or hear her thundering heart. She leaned her head against his, and he read in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. A chill ran down her back, and she shivered.

  Damon massaged her shoulder as he continued reading, mesmerizing her with his voice. She shivered again.

  “I’m not bothering you, am I?” he asked.

  “No.” She turned to face him and their lips were barely an inch apart. Close enough to kiss.

  Close enough to kiss! Her eyes widened and her palms grew even sweatier. Her face burned. Time seemed to stand still. The whole world stood still.

  Breathe! She needed to do something. No way would she kiss him. He’d probably recoil and think she was crazy. Reading him wrong. He was probably one of those guys who made every girl feel like the most special person alive.

  Damon cleared his throat and got up. “I’ll be right back.” He headed for the restroom.

  Ariana’s entire body went limp. She took several deep breaths and fanned herself.

  What just happened? Had that near-kiss been her imagination? Did he feel it, too? Is that why he ran off? Or because he didn’t want anything to do with her?

  She craned her neck to look at his car, expecting to see him jump in and peel out. But he was nowhere in sight. Relief washed through her, and she glanced around the coffee shop. That awful barista was glaring at her.

  Whatever. She was probably jealous that Damon had his arm around Ari, reading Shakespeare in her ear. Who wouldn’t want that? Another shiver ran through her at the thought of his warm breath tickling her ear.

  Damon reappeared and took his seat. “Sorry ’bout that. Needed to take care of business.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He glanced at the time. “I have to get going. Got my own homework to do.”

  “Right. Of course.” She packed the books back into her bag.

  Damon put his hand on the small of her back and smiled. “Do you want me to drop you back off at school, or at home?”

  “Home would be great, but—” She stopped herself from saying more. If her dad saw her in Damon’s car, she’d never be allowed to see him again.

  “But what?” Damon cocked his head.

  She chewed on her lower lip. “I just don’t think my parents would like that.”

  He scowled. “Your dad?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know, he doesn’t own you. Just tell him the truth—your tutor offered to give you a ride. What’s wrong with that? It’s better than having you walk alone, right?” Damon rose, grabbed his bag, and waved toward the door. “Come on. You have nothing to hide. Don’t let him intimidate you.”

  Ariana flung her bag over her shoulder and glanced at the clock. “Yeah. You’re right.”

  Hopefully, Dad would still be at work.

  Theories

  Nick took Genevieve’s hand in his and met her gaze. “You ready?”

  She glanced at the house, which had just been cleared for them to go in after the authorities went through the property. “I think I’m more ready than you are.”

  His stomach knotted. “You probably are, but Alex talked some sense into me at lunch.”

  Genevieve lifted a brow and the corners of her mouth twitched. “Oh, so you’ll listen to him but not me?”

  “It’s not like that—”

  She gave him a quick kiss. “I’m teasing. And I’m also glad he got through to you. It really isn’t a big deal. We’ll make it our home. Nothing that happened there before matters.”

  Nick frowned. “I wish I knew what happened to that girl.”

  “Still haven’t heard anything from Seattle?”

  He glanced at his phone. “Not yet. And we haven’t found any promising cold cases, either. There aren’t many missing teens from around here who haven’t been found—not recently or in the last fifty years.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Except that it leaves us with nothing about the girl we found.”

  “Maybe the preacher bought the mummy? We have found a few historical items.
He might’ve been into that.”

  “A televangelist whose hobby was collecting mummies?” Nick shook his head. “It’s a nice idea, but I don’t buy it. Where are the others? I’m certain a crime was committed here, unfortunately.”

  “Well, I’m sure it isn’t half as bad as my parents’ property. And despite all the bodies that were buried there, we haven’t had a single haunting. Not one.”

  Nick snorted. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “What, then?”

  He shrugged. “It’s hard to put to words. But it doesn’t matter. It’s our home, and we’re going to become a family here.”

  Although it would be nice to have the option to return it. If Colin had been holding out on him, hiding the information about the dead body, that would be one thing. But nobody knew, and now he was stuck with a possible murder house.

  That also meant Nick and Genevieve would never be able to sell it. Unless they tore down the house and built a new one. But even then, that would be questionable.

  “What are you thinking about, Nicky? You’re making me nervous.”

  He turned his attention back to her and shook his head. “Just letting my mind run away. Let’s head inside and see how everything looks.”

  “Can’t look much worse than before.” Genevieve laughed. “We just had piles of stuff to donate and sell.”

  “That’s true.” He took a deep breath and scanned the property. What exactly had happened here, and how long ago?

  “You ready?” She squeezed his hand.

  “Let’s do this.” He dug into his pocket for the keys. Inside, the living room looked almost exactly as they’d left it. A few things had been moved around or knocked over, but it was nothing major. The officers had to have been extra careful because it was their captain’s house.

  He and Genevieve walked through the house, finding all the rooms in the same state as they’d left them. She turned to him. “What do you want to do now? Continue going through things? Or hauling some of this stuff to the second-hand store? I just texted my parents, and the kids are all doing great—studying and getting along.”

  “Good. I’m tempted to rent a truck and have it all hauled away.”

  “We’re trying to save money, remember?”

  “Time is money.” He sighed. “Actually, you know what I need to do?”

  She shook her head.

  “I have to call Colin and see if he knows anything about this. In all the commotion, I forgot to do that.”

  “You think he’ll admit to any of it, if he does know?”

  “I’ll assure him I’m not going to try to get out of the contract. I just want answers.”

  She gave him a quick kiss. “So do I, but we might not get them. How about this? You call him, and I’ll start loading things into my SUV. Then we can drop it off and pick up the kids. Or come back for another load if we’re feeling adventurous.”

  He gave a rueful smile. “If I were feeling adventurous, I can think of more exciting things to do.”

  She patted his back and hefted up a box. “Let me know what Colin says.”

  “Oh, I will.” Nick wandered to the master bedroom and found the previous owner’s son in his contacts and called him.

  “Nick, what’s up?” Colin sounded less than thrilled to hear from him. Probably because he wanted the property out of his mind—that was why he’d sold it so cheaply from across the country. And why was that?

  “You say you don’t know anything about the attic here?” Nick jumped right to the chase.

  “Correct.”

  “Would you mind telling me exactly why that is?”

  “Like I told you before, my father was a private person. And we had a huge falling out when I was young. Even as a kid, I was never allowed in his room, much less near any attic or basement or shed.”

  “There’s a basement?”

  “I have no idea! I didn’t live there.” Colin sounded exasperated. “What’s all this about?”

  Nick quickly filled him in about the mummy.

  Colin swore on the other end of the line. “There was an actual mummy up there? How old do you think it is? Was it something he picked up at a swap meet? He loved shopping at those. That much I do remember.”

  “It’s being examined by experts in Seattle,” Nick said. “We should have some answers soon.”

  “You have my word that I knew nothing about it. Nothing! Dad pushed everyone away. None of my relatives have seen the man in years. There wasn’t even a funeral. He was a recluse, his only friend was the nurse who took care of him. You might want to speak with her.”

  “Do you have her information?” Nick asked.

  “I can dig it up and text it to you.”

  “I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Sure, no problem. You’re not trying to renege on the sale, are you?”

  “No. Don’t worry about that. Just want answers.”

  Colin breathed a sigh of relief. “So would I, actually. If you learn anything, please let me know.”

  “Will do.” They said goodbye, then Nick ended the call.

  It was looking more and more like the retired televangelist was probably guilty of something more than a questionable swap meet purchase.

  A text came in from the precinct.

  Sanchez: We got some news about the mummy. Call me.

  Punches

  Alex knocked on Ari’s door. “Are you in there, sweetie?”

  He waited, not expecting a response even if she was inside.

  “Come in,” she called.

  “Knock me over with a feather,” he mumbled before opening the door.

  She sat on the bed wearing too-short shorts and a too-tight tank. Hopefully that was just an outfit for wearing at home. He was going to go with that for now. It wasn’t the time to argue about clothes.

  He stepped inside. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine.” She turned her attention back to her phone.

  “We haven’t had a dad and daughter date in a while. Do you want to go to laser tag this weekend?”

  “Aren’t you working?” She still didn’t look up.

  “Not twenty-four-seven. I want to hang out with you.” He hesitated. “I miss you, Ari.”

  She sighed. “Dad, I’m getting older and doing more stuff with my friends. Maybe do your daddy dates with the twins. Just don’t take them to the Ball Palace.”

  The last sentence was like a slap to the face. The Ball Palace was where they’d gone when Ariana had gotten abducted almost three years earlier. “What did you just say?”

  She finally glanced up. “You heard me.”

  “You think I’m going to let them get kidnapped?”

  Ari shrugged and turned back to her phone.

  He sat next to her and took the device from her.

  “Hey!”

  “I don’t know why you’re so mad at me lately, but I won’t stand for you talking to me like that. Do you understand?”

  A flash of anger crossed her face but she didn’t respond.

  “If I did something, it would be nice if you’d tell me so we could talk about it and I could have a chance to apologize or try to work it out. But since you won’t tell me, I can’t do anything. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m your dad, and you need to be respectful, no matter what angst you’re dealing with.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  “You’re not even legally my dad.”

  Alex slammed down the phone on her desk. “That’s it! You’ve just earned yourself a grounding. You’re going to school and coming straight home from now until the weekend. Got it?”

  “Can I still get my after-school tutoring?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay.” She grabbed her phone. “At least you didn’t crack the screen.”

  “I could take it away if I really wanted to.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “But I’m not going to because we need to
be able to reach you when you’re out.”

  “I’m not dumb enough to get abducted again.”

  Alex grabbed the phone from her. “You can have it back when you leave for school tomorrow.”

  “What?” She glared at him. “Give it back!”

  “No! You’re grounded—that means no phone at home.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Anger churned in his gut and radiated out to his chest. He was tempted to say something he would surely later regret, so he bit his tongue. When he left the room, he slammed the door closed.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Kenji called from the kitchen.

  “I’m not going to be able to make it tonight.” Alex stormed out the front door and headed next door to his parents’ house. Both cars were gone from the driveway. He pulled out his keys, unlocked it, and went downstairs to Dad’s workout room. He grabbed some gloves and took his anger out on the punching bag.

  By the time he was done, sweat dripped, soaking his shirt and stinging his eyes. He threw down the gloves and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths. He felt somewhat better, but the thought of his daughter made his blood boil again.

  He could throw all the punches he wanted, but it wouldn’t fix the situation with Ariana. He’d really thought they would avoid this stage of life with her. She’d always been the sweetest, happiest kid—even after returning from her abduction. Sure, she’d needed therapy, but she didn’t act out like a lot of other kids would’ve. His daughter had always been kind and loving, bright and responsible.

  Alex wiped more sweat from his brow and headed for the front door, not ready to go back home yet. He picked up the two cell phones and froze when he saw twelve new messages on Ari’s phone from someone named Damon.

  “Who the hell is Damon?” Alex punched in Ari’s password.

  It didn’t work.

  Part of the agreement of having the phone was that she used a password all her parents knew. Maybe she’d reverted back to one of the older ones. He tried each of the ones she’d ever used.

  None unlocked the screen.

  More anger surged through him. What on earth was going on with his daughter? Did this Damon person have anything to do with it? Wouldn’t surprise him. Teenage guys always got girls into trouble—and he should know. He’d been the one to get Zoey drinking and smoking, and he’d been two years younger. Then he’d knocked her up.

 

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