Rounding the center island, Jaimee pulled out a bar stool, took a seat, and planted her elbows on the countertop. “An older guy, skinny as a drain spout, who speeds around on the riding mower like he’s driving an Indie car?”
“That sounds like Rudy.”
“I’ve seen him when I picked up Watson, but we’ve never spoken. Maybe he could tell us what Maureen did after her bank appointment, or at least describe her mood. He’d know if she met someone or made a phone call that escalated into an argument. There has to be a reason someone killed her.”
“I’m impressed.”
Jaimee glanced over at Eli. Eyes that seemed to reflect every passing emotion registered respect. She couldn’t suppress a smile. “What, you thought I was just a pretty face?”
Chagrin replaced the admiration. “Let’s just say I may have underestimated your mental fortitude. I have a feeling you’re smarter than I am, and I’m no slouch in the IQ department.”
“We’re not in competition.” She paused for a moment. “At least I hope we’re on the same team.”
“Hey, we’ve had exactly two conversations prior to today, and I’m more inclined to trust you than any of my relatives.” He stepped closer and rested his hand on her arm. “I hope you feel the same.”
Warmth from his fingers spread tingles along her nerve endings. She met his gaze and didn’t look away, seeing nothing but honesty in the blue depths. Still, trust was something earned, not freely given. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
“I’m leaning in that direction.”
After a moment, he removed his hand. “Good enough. For now.”
Chapter Five
Eli crossed his sock-clad feet on the coffee table and leaned back into his corner of the couch. Jaimee sat at the opposite end, a full yard of dark brown suede and a sleeping dog separating them. The TV above the fireplace was tuned to the ballgame where the Red Sox were getting their asses kicked by the Yankees. He could think of better ways to spend the evening than watching his team get smoked and listening to Watson snore. He should be writing but wasn’t. Completely Jaimee’s fault since he’d wanted to hang out with her.
The fact that she’d pretty much ignored him since they’d sat down wasn’t improving his mood. After professing interest in the ballgame, she’d spent the majority of the past hour on her phone. He got the feeling something was troubling her, but she wasn’t talking.
When his own cell vibrated on the table next to his feet, he scooped it up, happy to have a distraction. “It’s Rudy.”
That got her attention. She stopped texting, set down her phone, and swiveled around to face him.
He put the call on speaker before answering. “Rudy, thanks for getting back to me.”
“No problem, Mr. Croft.” The older man cleared his gravely throat. “I’m sorry about your grandmother. She always treated me with respect. I’ll miss her.”
“I appreciate that. I know Maureen felt she could rely on you. Actually, I had a question about an errand she ran the day before she died.”
“That would be on Monday. I took her to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription, and then we went to the bank.”
“Unfortunately, there’s some paperwork missing,” Eli lied without compunction. “Did Maureen have anything with her when she came out of the building?”
“Not that I recall. She was inside for quite a while, maybe a half hour or so. I don’t think her appointment went well because she was pretty tight-lipped getting into the car. Watson sat on the seat with his head on her lap during the drive home. That dog could sense when she was upset.”
Eli glanced down at Watson, sprawled on his back on the center cushion with his paws in the air. At the moment, he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. “Did you drive her anywhere else?”
“No, just back to the house. Mrs. Croft thanked me the way she always did, and I headed outside to finished pruning the shrubs.”
“I don’t suppose she had any visitors that day?”
“Not a soul.” A hint of censure entered Rudy’s voice. “Then again, she rarely did.”
Eli winced, regretting he hadn’t spent more time with Maureen after his grandfather died. Hindsight was a bitch. Dragging his attention away from lost opportunities, he focused on the conversation. “Has Stephen worked out an arrangement with you to stay on until the family knows what will happen to the estate?”
“We spoke briefly, and he assured me I’ll still have a job for a while.”
“Excellent.” Eli rubbed his thumb across an ink stain on the knee of his jeans. “I won’t take up any more of your time, then. Have a good evening, Rudy.”
“You, too, Mr. Croft. Bye, now.”
After disconnecting, Eli laid the phone down. “Well that wasn’t very helpful.”
“I don’t know. We learned Maureen wasn’t happy about what she found in the safe deposit box, and she didn’t hand anything over to a third party. Either she closed the box, returned the key to the bank manager, and fit whatever contents the box contained into her purse, or the key is somewhere in her home.”
“Unless she dropped it in the car.” Eli smacked his hand down on his knee. “I bet no one checked the back seat.”
“Now you’re using those analytical skills. Do you think you can search the car tomorrow?”
“I doubt anyone will notice if I take a stroll out to the garage after we finalize arrangements for Maureen’s service. The whole family, minus Reba, is supposed to be there. Or so Stephen said when I talked to him earlier. Which reminds me, I need to work on the obituary so I can send it to the papers.”
“You can turn off the ballgame if it’s a distraction.” Jaimee gave him a quick smile. “The score seems to be pissing you off, anyway.”
“The evening certainly isn’t going the way I’d hoped.”
Heat flared in her eyes for a moment, and he was pretty certain she wasn’t as disinterested in him as she acted. Even a hint of encouragement lightened his mood, and he gave Watson a nudge. When the dog let out a moan, stretched, and jumped to the floor, he closed the distance between them.
“Or we could—” He broke off and stroked the side of her cheek with his thumb before leaning in for a kiss. Her lips were soft beneath his, and so sweet. Her breath came out in a rush, and his whole body tensed with a surge of need. But when he tried to deepen the contact, she pulled away.
“I should take Watson outside before I turn in.” She broke eye contact and rose to her feet. “We won’t be gone long.”
The dog thumped his tail on the floor, then scampered to his feet and followed Jaimee in the direction of the front entry.
“I guess not,” Eli muttered as the two disappeared. He’d swear he wasn’t the only one feeling the attraction, not that she’d done anything specific to make him believe he had a shot. Probably just wishful thinking on his part. Taking it slow and getting to know each other better was the way to go.
He shifted uncomfortably. Apparently, his body hadn’t gotten the news flash.
When her phone dinged, he repressed a prickling of guilt as he reached for the cell. He’d been wondering who she was texting all evening while she ignored both him and the game. With a touch, the screen illuminated the first few lines of the message.
He’s clean. The financial report showed no unusual transfers. The guy is loaded, but that’s to be expec . . .
He couldn’t see the rest of the message without opening it, and that would require entering her password. The guy is loaded. The words bounced around in his brain as he stared at the name of the sender. Wolf.
Did Jaimee have me checked out?
Eli dropped the phone onto the coffee table and clenched his hand into a fist. Anger simmered, along with raw disappointment. Is that the thanks I get?
The door squeaked open, then shut with a soft thud as he took a couple of calming breaths. Toenails clicked against the hardwood floor before Watson burst into the room. Filled with doggy energy, he skidded to a stop a
nd propped his paws up on the couch, wiggling in anticipation. Eli stroked the dog’s head.
“Mission accomplished.” Jaimee strolled slowly across the room without any of the dog’s enthusiasm.
“So it would seem.”
Something in his tone must have given her pause. She regarded him for several seconds before reaching for the phone she’d left on the table. Turning her back, she walked over to the window to read her message.
At least Eli assumed she read it. When she stayed quiet and simply stared out into the darkness, his temper flared. Counting to ten didn’t help in the least.
“Did you ask your buddy to check me out?” The question seemed to explode out of his tight chest.
She spun around, eyes wide before a hint of anger flashed. “Did you look at my phone?”
“I’m the bad guy here? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“No, you’re not a bad guy.” Her stiff posture dissolved as her shoulders slumped. “I wanted to trust you, but—”
“Obviously you didn’t.” His words sliced through an excuse he didn’t want to hear.
“In my heart, I believed you, or I wouldn’t be standing here right now. Still, my head needed confirmation you weren’t simply playing me.” She lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not enough, but I am.”
“You invaded my privacy, checked into my background and my finances.”
“Someone I’d trust with my life did it. The information isn’t going anywhere.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” It didn’t. He couldn’t stop wondering who this paragon with all the answers was, a man she obviously didn’t hesitate to turn to when she was in trouble.
“No, I guess not.” She moved away from the window and crossed the room.
When she didn’t stop, he stood and stared after her. At his feet, the dog whined softly. “Wow, I didn’t figure you for the type of woman to walk away from an argument.”
“What’s the point in discussing it?” She picked up the duffle bag she’d left in the kitchen and slowly turned. “Do you want to keep Watson? I’ll take him if you don’t.”
“Take him?” Eli stepped around the end of the coffee table. “Take him where?”
“With me. I’ll probably live out of my car for the next day or two, which is why it might be easier on Watson if he stays with you. I need to find someplace safe where I can hunt the bastard who killed Maureen without drawing any attention to myself.”
“What’s wrong with hanging out here? I thought that was the plan.” He stopped on one side of the island with a yard of granite between them.
“You’re angry. I—”
“Damn right. I’m plenty pissed. But that doesn’t mean I intend to kick you out when you have an assassin looking for you and nowhere else to go. What kind of an asshole do you think I am?”
“I don’t—” She broke off, and her throat worked. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Unless you want to stay with your buddy who has all the right answers. What the hell sort of name is Wolf, anyway?”
“A nickname.” She spoke sharply. “He’s not exactly driving distance at the moment. Anyway, this is my problem, no one else’s.”
“I thought it was our problem.” Eli pressed down on the countertop, the stone cold and hard beneath his palms. “I had no problem trusting you. Maybe that makes me a fool. I certainly feel like one.”
“You shouldn’t. You were nothing but honest with me. I’m the one who has all the issues.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why wasn’t my word enough for you?”
A long moment of silence passed before she finally spoke. “Someone I trusted . . .” She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Once burned and all that.”
Eli opened his mouth to make a snarky comment but stopped himself. The flash of pain in her eyes spoke louder than her flippant response. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” She shifted away from the island. “Look, I can take care of myself better than most. You don’t need to harbor any guilt.”
“Suit yourself. If you want to stay, you’re welcome.”
“Honestly, it might be better if I don’t. I wouldn’t want you to wind up as collateral damage. Watson—”
“I’ll keep him. Do you want to give me your number in case I need to reach you?”
Jaimee nodded. “Hand me your phone, and I’ll punch it in.”
He unlocked his cell and did as she asked. Once she’d entered her number, she added his to her phone.
“If you find the key and are able to get into that safe deposit box . . .”
He took the cell she handed over. “I’ll definitely contact you if I learn which of my upstanding relatives is responsible for hiring a killer.”
“I appreciate that.” When Watson strolled over to lean against her leg, she bent to pet him. “I’ll see you soon, boy.” With nothing more than a regretful look for Eli, she picked up her bag and headed toward the garage.
A moment later the big door rumbled open. Watson shook the fur out of his eyes, lifted his nose, and howled.
“I can relate, but maybe we’re both better off.”
The dog dropped to the floor and let out a moan.
“Or not.” Eli headed back to the living room. Jaimee had made her decision, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Right now, he had an obituary to write.
* * * *
Jaimee parked on a dirt road a mile from her cabin. After taking a small flashlight out from under the car seat, she locked the door and headed into the woods. She had no intention of spending the night in her home, but if the asshole who’d shot Maureen was keeping watch on the place, she just might learn something useful.
A task that would have been much easier if she had a weapon. Too bad she’d been determined to leave any hint of violence behind her when she quit Counterstrike. Who knew her dog-walking business would prove to be so deadly.
She pushed a limb out of her way and ducked beneath it.
Sitting around doing nothing and waiting for the assassin to come after her wasn’t an option. As agitated as she was, she wouldn’t be able to sleep, so she might as well make use of her time. Guilt twisted her stomach into knots. She’d hurt Eli. No one liked being played for a fool, even if that hadn’t been her intention.
Then there was the kiss that had started a slow burn deep in her belly. She’d wanted nothing more than to give in to the urge to let him take it to the next level. Thank God she’d stopped him before he could.
Trying not to think about the disappointment in his eyes, Jaimee hurried through the forest. Drawing close to her goal, she shut off the flashlight and kept her hands in front of her face to avoid injury as she traversed the last hundred yards. Better safe than sorry. Stopping just inside the trees, she studied her home in the dim moonlight for any sign of movement. The fact that the killer’s truck wasn’t parked in her driveway meant nothing. The man was a professional and wouldn’t advertise his presence.
A chill seeped into her bones despite the lightweight down jacket she was wearing, and she clenched her teeth tightly together to keep them from chattering while she waited. Not far away, a frog croaked, and a light breeze ruffled the leaves of the maple tree above her. An hour later, she was about ready to give up and return to her car when a flash of light on the access road caught her eye. The beam of a flashlight pointed low to the ground. Just before the person reached the bend in the driveway where it opened into her front yard, he snapped off the light. At least she assumed the person quietly making his way toward her cabin was male. She’d be an idiot to believe it was anyone other than Maureen’s killer.
Clouds drifted across the crescent moon, leaving the night blacker than the inside of a cave. Jaimee sensed rather than saw the man pass her, his steps light on the rutted drive. The faint sounds stopped completely a few moments later, and she debated her
options. She had to assume he was armed and plan accordingly.
A click echoed in the silence, followed by the squeak of her front door. He’d jimmied the lock and gone inside, probably to kill her in her bed if she’d been careless enough to return to her home. Her best option at this point was to search his vehicle. Leaving the shelter of the woods, Jaimee ran down the driveway, waiting until she was out of sight of the house to switch on her own flashlight. She’d gone nearly a quarter mile before a metallic gray gleam caught in the beam of light.
Circling the killer’s truck, Jaimee tried both doors. Neither budged. She swore beneath her breath as she flashed her light over the interior. A duffle bag sat on the passenger seat, and her heart thumped painfully as she debated breaking the window. She’d have to risk the noise and hope the killer was still inside her cabin. Raising her elbow, she paused when the latch closing the slider behind the seats caught her attention. The little black clasp was loose.
Finally, I catch a break. She hustled to the rear of the truck and used the bumper to step up into the bed. Crouching low against the cab, she opened the window a crack to unhook the latch. Sliding the window wide, she stuck her arm through, wincing when she scraped her still tender bullet wound. Contorting her body, she was just able to reach the door and unlock it.
“Yes!” The single word hissed between her lips. Her neck prickled as she stared up the street into the darkness, knowing her time was running out.
After vaulting over the side, she hit the ground with a thud and opened the passenger door, then quickly switched off the overhead dome light. A search of the glovebox didn’t turn up anything more exciting than the vehicle operating manual. Slamming the compartment shut with a shaking hand, she flashed her light under the seats without any luck, and then checked the center console where a few CDs were stored. That left the duffle bag. A thorough search revealed only a few changes of clothes before her fingers encountered a piece of paper. She pulled it out and studied it. A post office package notice for box 702. She shoved the paper in her pocket.
Fatal Encounter (A Counterstrike Novel Book 1) Page 6
