by Marlow Kelly
“And if she doesn’t?” He could see the fear in his friend’s eyes.
“Then you can move on. No matter what, I’ll be there for you.” Using his crutches, David levered himself off the bed. He’d go and find Marie. It was time to start planning their life together.
Epilogue
Marie lay on her stomach with her head resting on David’s shoulder. She was exhausted. After two months together, their lovemaking was still a wild, desperate thirst that couldn’t be quenched.
This bout of sex had been provoked by a particularly heated quarrel about their prenuptial agreement. She didn’t want one. He on the other hand refused to marry her until he had signed away any claim to her money.
She tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t budge.
“You know,” she said, using her last logical argument. “There’s no point in keeping our finances separate. I paid for the house, but you own the land. They can’t be divided. Like us.”
Their log home was simple rather than ostentatious. It was a three-bedroom house with two outbuildings: a garage and a workshop. Everything was powered by her solar panel which, strictly speaking, wasn’t legal. The prototype was still going through the national fire code certification to ensure it was safe. Ironically, the publicity caused by Marshall Portman’s actions had ensured an interest in her work. She had received job offers from around the globe, and orders for her solar panel were pouring in. David dealt with the business side of things. With his education, he understood the complexities of a business enterprise, whereas she was content to go to her workshop and concentrate on her next project.
David’s hand trailed down her spine and then patted her buttocks. “Nice try, but you know my terms.”
She leant on her elbow so she could see his face. “I thought you might say that. Okay you win. We’ll get a prenup.” She’d make an appointment with her lawyer to draw up a will, naming David as the beneficiary. He wouldn’t like it so she wouldn’t tell him. It was a little lie of omission, but it would give her some piece of mind, knowing that he would be financially secure if anything happened to her.
“It’s about time. I thought I was going to have to drag you to the lawyers and force you to sign the damn thing. Let’s get married tomorrow.”
“No, that’s too soon.”
“The next day then.”
“No, we’ll get married when I have a dress.”
“Do you want a church wedding? Cause I’m not sure I want to wait that long.”
“No, but I’d like to wear a wedding dress. Besides, Sinclair, Tim, Michael, and Finn are your family, and I want them there on our special day to celebrate with us.”
His intense green gaze caught hers. “Okay, we’ll get the license and then make the arrangements. I can’t wait to call you Mrs. Quinn.”
Her breath hitched. She wanted him again. It was always the same. The scar didn’t matter. She was drawn to the power of his personality and his strength, coupled with his good heart.
He smiled. “Stop looking at me like that. I need to recover before we make love again. Besides I don’t think we have time. I have a guy coming by this afternoon.” He rolled out of bed, grabbed his pants from the floor, and strolled to the bathroom. A slight limp was the only sign he had been shot two months ago.
She clipped her bra into place and then sat on the side of the bed to pull on her jeans. “What guy?”
“He’s bringing a pair of personal protection dogs for us to look at. We don’t have to buy them, but this is big acreage, and I can’t be with you twenty-four hours a day. I figured a friendly, well-trained dog can spend time with you in your workshop.”
“We’ll see.” Since the incident with PDE, she had been nervous about being in her workshop alone, but she’d never had a dog and didn’t want to make the commitment without meeting one first.
She tugged on her T-shirt and headed for the door. Soon she would marry the man she loved, and she had friends who were like family. She belonged.
Enjoy this exciting preview of book two in
The Gathering Storm Series,
Fire Storm.
Due to be release winter 2018
Chapter One
Ben North clutched a hand to his heart in an effort to control his racing pulse. The woman sat at his kitchen table, displaying her magnificent naked breasts. He hadn’t seen a bosom that superb since he’d served in Vietnam.
Her knee-length skirt had ridden up to her thighs, exposing her shapely legs. He should send her on her way, but the chance to spend time with a beautiful woman would be gone soon enough. He was two weeks away from his seventieth birthday and had more days behind him than ahead of him.
Besides, it would be rude to tell her to leave. To get to his cabin on Molly’s Mountain, she’d had to drive past protesters and negotiate a steep, narrow trail that, at times, teetered on the side of a cliff.
“Don’t you want me?” the woman at the table purred.
He wasn’t sure if he could pleasure her. It had been years since his last sexual adventure. He licked his lips. “Of course I do, but are you sure? What about your husband?”
She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “He’s having an affair.”
“And I’m your revenge?” He had no time for her weasel of a husband, and there was poetry in the idea of him being used as an instrument for retribution.
Her gaze slanted to the floor as she swallowed and then licked her dry lips. “You’re not the only one, but yes, you’re payback.”
There was something in her manner that was off. She could be lying, or maybe she felt guilty over her adultery. Yes, that was it. She wouldn’t lie about having other boyfriends, but still, it was a surprise. “You have other lovers?”
She nodded and met his gaze, seeming direct and honest.
He’d always thought of her as uptight and unyielding. Maybe she showed the world the strict and conservative side of her nature, but in the privacy of the bedroom she was a wild woman. He liked that idea.
She smiled, straightened her back, thrusting her chest forward, and then curled her index finger, beckoning him closer. “I want you to lick my breasts and suck on my nipples.”
His cock sprang to life, which was comforting. Maybe he would be able to satisfy her. He stepped closer and knelt on the floor in front of her, ignoring the pain in his arthritic knees.
As he leaned in, she held up a hand to stop him. “Before you start, I need to get something out of my purse.” She plucked her bag off the floor and placed it in her lap. She was probably looking for a rubber. That was the way of it these days. You couldn’t have sex without protection, even if there was no chance of pregnancy.
She pulled out her compact mirror, and lipstick and then placed her bag back on the ground.
He smiled. She wanted to make sure she looked good. Maybe she would primp her hair or touch up her makeup. He leant closer. He loved watching a woman put on lipstick. It was a feminine and intimate gesture. One he didn’t know he’d missed until this moment.
She pursed her lips as she opened the compact, held it level with his face, and blew.
He coughed when a fine, white powder flew into his nose and eyes. He tried to wipe it away, but it just smeared.
She blew again.
A chemical taste coated his tongue. He spat as he pulled away, trying to rid his mouth of the dry, bitter substance. Then the world tilted and swayed. The floor seemed to buckle under him. He cried out and grabbed the table, trying not to fall over.
A pretty she-devil with the largest breasts he had ever seen moved toward him. Horns grew out of her fair hair. “Where’s the gold?”
He held his arms wide in an effort to prevent the walls from crushing him. “Why are the walls moving?”
“They’re not moving. You’re hallucinating. It’s a side effect of the drug I blew into your face. I know you found a can of gold coins because I heard you telling Jack. Where is it?”
Jack? Jack Morgan was his oldest fri
end. Jack would chase the devil away the same way he’d chased away Ben’s other demons. He tried to move to the door. He needed to get out of the house, to feel solid ground beneath his feet. But the floor slanted into an abyss. He gripped the table, scared he’d slip into the dark, inky blackness. “Help me,” he screamed at the devil-woman.
She smiled. Her evil eyes shone with blue fire. “I’ll help you if you tell me about the gold.”
He’d been tricked. The devil knew Ben’s weakness and had disguised himself as a beautiful woman.
“You’d better get out of here before she kills you,” the chair said.
The world righted itself, and he started for the door, ignoring the fact that chairs couldn’t talk. The furniture levitated, floating slowly around the room. His mouth was dry, so dry he thought his tongue would crack. Blood pounded in his ears. He took another step, but didn’t have the energy to continue. He tried to inhale, but his lungs wouldn’t expand. And the damned furniture was spinning faster.
“Just tell me where the gold is!” the she-devil shouted.
“It’s on Morgan land,” he yelled. He didn’t want to tell, but was compelled to reveal everything. The devil controlled his mind.
“Where?” she insisted.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a crushing pain in his chest made him double over. He fell to his knees. Tim—he was supposed to meet him tomorrow and tell him about the gold. Now it was too late. He was a thief. He’d stolen from the Morgans, and the devil had come to claim him.
“Where is it?” The she-devil was on the ground next to him. “I need to know,” she screamed, grabbing him by the collar.
Her words stabbed at him, coalescing into a dark, sharp knife that pierced his heart. The pain extended through his chest and down his left arm. His world exploded into a white light of pain, and then nothing.
Chapter Two
Officer Dana Hayden gripped the steering wheel of her patrol car as she negotiated the treacherous, narrow road to Ben North’s cabin that was perched on the side of Molly’s Mountain.
The homes on this part of the Hopefalls Highway were geographically isolated. The only way to reach them was to drive through the town. There were no other roads to this part of the county. Ben’s only neighbors were the Kootenai National Forest and the Morgans, who owned the adjacent ranch.
She’d been to Molly’s Mountain a number of times to deal with trespassers. Ben was embroiled in a particularly nasty lawsuit, one that had captured the attention of the press. Third Estate Mining Corporation claimed to own the mineral rights to Molly’s Mountain and were using Montana’s Eminent Domain Laws to force Ben from his land. Activists supporting both sides were camped out at his gate on the Hopefalls Highway, which was a twenty-five-minute drive to the cabin.
Strictly speaking, the properties west of Hopefalls came under the jurisdiction of the Elkhead County-Granite City Police Department, and she had no power to arrest anyone, but she could talk to people as a private citizen. She’d been motivated to act as an intermediary for Ben since the town of Hopefalls had suffered of spate of vandalism. The graffiti painted on the side of the police station, town hall, and post office suggested a link to Ben’s supporters. What had started off as defacement had escalated into arson when someone set fire to the mayor’s shed.
Most of the protesters were respectful of Ben’s privacy. She’d had very few problems when she spoke to them face to face so she’d been unable to pinpoint a culprit.
Ben hadn’t been grateful for her efforts. He was crotchety and gruff, but there was a spark in his eye that told her he was intelligent and alert, and she had instantly taken a liking to him.
She parked on the grassy ledge in front of the rundown cabin. Her boss, Police Chief Levi Booley, had parked his new Jeep Renegade close to the front door. Positioned beside it was the mayor’s newer model Ford Explorer, which meant she had to park next to a sharp precipice. She inhaled as she took in the view. It was stunning, but it was also a long way down, and heights had never been her thing. She wasn’t exactly scared; she just had a healthy respect for Newton’s law of gravity.
She climbed out of the patrol car, flinching as the skin at her waist caught between her Kevlar vest and gun belt. As a newly appointed officer for the town of Hopefalls, she’d been back in uniform for only two months. She couldn’t get used to the starched white shirt, the polyester pants, and wearing two belts—her gun belt and a belt to hold up her pants. The gun belt was bulky and awkward, but necessary since it carried most of the tools needed for the job: two sets of handcuffs packed neatly into two handcuff cases, an expandable baton, a flashlight, Taser gun, her portable radio, and two spare, fully loaded magazines, which ensured she carried at least forty-six rounds of ammunition.
As she ascended the three steps to the front door, her hand automatically went to her SIG Sauer, a reflex from her twelve years as a law enforcement officer. Booley had been cryptic when he’d phoned the station. He had refused to tell her the nature of the call, but claimed the area was secure.
She stood at the entrance and blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark interior. Ben lay near the door, flat on his back, with his arms by his side. A revolver lay on the ground next to him. His face was white, bloodless, and his eyes cloudy and opaque. She could tell at a glance he was dead. Whenever she encountered a body, her first instinct was to look away, but she resisted. Before moving back to Hopefalls, she’d worked in Spokane as a homicide detective for six years and knew the drill.
“There you are.” Police Chief Booley stood in the center of the room, a tall rangy man with sharp eyes and a ragged face that revealed a lifetime smoking habit. “It took you long enough to get here.” He wore muddy work boots, jeans, and a white cowboy hat. A lit cigarette dangled between his fingers.
Paul Harris, the mayor of Hopefalls, paced near the fireplace. He wore his usual uniform, a suit and tie. As always, his hair was perfectly combed, not so fussy as to be feminine, but not rugged either. His wife, Zoe Harris, sat on the old, duct tape-patched couch. She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. Her short fair hair and gel nails were perfect, as always. Her eye makeup and mascara were also flawless despite the fact she’d been crying.
Dana bit her lip and counted to ten. Damn it, Booley had over thirty years experience. He should know better than to contaminate the scene. He should’ve asked Mr. and Mrs. Harris to wait in the car instead of letting them trample all over the cabin. They needed to clear the room.
“Have you already called the Granite City-Elkhead County police? Or do you want me to do it?” It was her way of reminding her boss there were procedures to follow.
Booley gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
She gave a curt nod as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves, hoping he would take the hint and extinguish his ash-trailing cigarette, which was contaminating the scene. “Then I’ll have to ask you all to wait outside while I preserve the evidence.”
Booley’s face flushed. “I’m your boss. I can do whatever I want.”
Dana ignored his outburst. Her job was to protect the citizens of Hopefalls within the confines of the law, and she didn’t care whose toes she had to step on to do that. “We need to secure the area and allow the Granite City-Elkhead County police to investigate. I need the three of you to wait outside. Who found the body?”
Zoe raised her hand.
Dana softened her tone. “Why were you here?”
Zoe sniffled. “I deliver food to the elderly.”
“Did you touch Ben?”
The mayor’s wife shook her head.
“You’ll have to wait until the GCEC PD arrive. They’ll want to question you.”
The mayor, who had been silent to this point, stomped past her and out the door. “I’m taking my wife home. They can find us there. There’s no need for all this fuss. We know who did it.”
“We do?” Dana ground her teeth together. She wanted to blast Booley and the mayor. She didn’t like having a civilian
tell her who’d committed the crime, even if he was, technically, her boss. The three of them had stomped all over the crime scene, leaving footprints, fingerprints, DNA and cigarette ash. She doubted Booley would want to explain to the Granite City-Elkhead County police the evidence was tainted.
Booley pointed to the gun on the floor next to the body. “That’s a limited edition Colt six-shooter. It was made in 1984 and jointly purchased by Jack Morgan and Ben North. The two had a falling out, and Jack Morgan kept the weapon.”
Zoe rose and walked toward Dana, not looking at Ben. “I’ll wait outside.”
Dana nodded as the mayor’s wife inched past her. Of the three of them, only Zoe Harris’ behavior was understandable. She was distressed and probably in shock. She had found the body so her presence in the cabin was justifiable. They other two should’ve known better.
Dana pushed the thought aside, grabbed her notebook from her back pocket, and started documenting the crime scene. It didn’t matter what Chief Booley or Mayor Harris said. She would work the case and hand her notes to the detective in charge of the investigation.
Ben North lay on the floor a few feet from the door. Dead. His lips were a faded shade of blue. In her twelve-year career as a policewoman, she had viewed more dead bodies than she cared to remember, but she never got used to seeing a soulless corpse. Everything Ben had been was gone. All that was left was an empty husk. She forced herself to focus. Four bullet holes punctured his chest. In her experience, a body never fell neatly. After being shot, people normally landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. They did not lie there as if they were waiting to be placed on a stretcher. Ben’s body had been moved.
Booley peered over her shoulder at her notes, puffing on his cigarette.
