by Cait London
“I want your promise that you won’t see Scanlon again,” Bob stated firmly.
“I can’t do that,” she returned honestly, and decided that their exchange was probably the usual, the father figure challenged by a younger man’s entrance into his daughter’s life. Patience and soothing usually settled these interpersonal irritations, and Rachel decided that everyone just needed that adjustment of time.
“Very well. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so. But think about your mother, what she’s gone through and how this will just make her life more difficult. I wanted Mallory in a business she could be proud of, something that would take her away from the likes of Scanlon, and that’s why I encouraged her.”
Rachel studied the man who’d been like her father, at every holiday meal, fixing little things around the house, and said gently, “I know you gave her money to get started in Nine Balls, because you cared. This will work out. I love you, Bob.”
With that, he reached for her, his hug familiar and safe.
Unsettled by Bob’s adamant dislike of Kyle, Rachel was in no mood to chat with Shane Templeton whom she met on the street in front of Handy Hardware. She had the feeling that he’d been waiting for her, just as he had that night in the fog. He smiled pleasantly, “Ah, Rachel. So nice to see you again.”
“Shane.” While she would work to repair her relationship with Bob, Shane was another matter.
He fell into stride with her. “Visiting Bob? I know he’s been like a father to you and he was quite upset this morning. I worried about his heart. Such trauma can’t be good for a man of his age, you know.”
“I’ll worry about Bob. I really didn’t appreciate your input this morning. The days of the scarlet letters are over, you know.”
His smile wasn’t nice, his full lips stretched back to reveal those small sharp teeth. “Yes, but some of you never learn, do you?”
Rachel wondered just how much effort Shane had put into teaching Mallory about life’s righteous ways. Had he hurt her? His hair matched the color of the doll’s and that of the girl’s. Could he be the father of that girl?
A quick conversation on the street would allow him too much room to escape, and when Rachel pinned him, she wanted no place for him to run. “I’ve got to get back to my business. But I’d like to discuss this further with you. I’ll call when things slow down a bit and we’ll get together.”
His hand locked onto her forearm and Shane leaned close. “Did you find anything that should be returned to me?” he demanded coarsely. “Tell me the truth—”
She looked down to the fingers biting into her arm. “Don’t touch me—”
Bob stepped out onto the street and frowned at them. “Is something wrong, Rachel?” he asked in a tone that said he’d defend her.
Shane smiled as he released her, but the warmth didn’t touch his eyes, slitted down at her. “There’s nothing wrong at all. I was just telling Rachel that I knew how much Mallory meant to her.”
“No, we’re just chatting, Bob…. I’ll talk to you later, Shane. Bye, Bob. Have to get back to work.”
When she looked back, Bob remained standing on the sidewalk, alert as any father for a potential threat to Rachel. She waved to him, caught Shane’s dark menacing look, and wondered if he had hurt Mallory, if his voice was rumbling in the background on that tape….
I’ll haunt you forever…. Mallory’s threat echoed in his mind.
But now Rachel was asking questions and she just might find that damnable voodoo doll.
He chewed the tablets for indigestion and paced his home, building his rage. “Tramp. It appears that Neptune’s Landing doesn’t know you very well, Rachel Everly. You’re sleeping with Kyle Scanlon, just like your sister did, and you’re evil just as she was, driving me to hurt you. None of this is my fault, none of it. Mallory tempted me, just as you do. And when I’m finished satisfying myself, I’ll let the others have you. You’ll learn to respect me, to want me…but first Kyle has to pay.”
He smiled briefly, thinking about how he would enjoy killing Kyle, for taking what wasn’t his. “She’s mine, Kyle, just as Mallory was. Mallory ran to you for protection, but I’m giving Rachel nowhere to run. She’ll be mine, just as Mallory was….”
I’ll haunt you forever…. He shivered as Mallory’s promise rang through his mind once more, and the scent of vanilla seemed to curl around him….
Twelve
“REAL NICE.” JOHN SCANLON JR. GAVE A LOW WHISTLE AS the yellow Sedan de Ville pulled onto the country racetrack. The men gathered around the stock car watched the big Cadillac coming slowly toward them on the unpaved country racing track.
In the bright late-afternoon Idaho sunshine, miles north of Boise, the narrow paved racing track seemed tiny against the backdrop of the surrounding fields and mountains. A child could grow and be safe in the white two-story house a few yards away, surrounded by flower and vegetable gardens. In the pasture was an easy tempered mare, perfect for a young girl to ride and to love, as well as the new kittens in the barn.
Kyle put down the wrench he’d been using and wiped his hands on an oily rag, tossing it aside; the younger man gave a low wolf whistle at the woman stepping out of the Cadillac.
“You better hope your wife didn’t hear that,” Kyle warned quietly as he walked to the weathered barn, employed as a garage. There, he used the basin, soap, and clean towel that John’s wife insisted the men use before entering her spotless home.
Rachel hadn’t answered Kyle’s calls, and he was on the point of leaving, returning to Neptune’s Landing. Things will have to change, Kyle decided grimly as he dried his hands. Leaving John Scanlon’s number would be a lead straight to answers Rachel wanted. She could have used Kyle’s cell phone number to return his calls; he’d left it by the semi-automatic and the list of whom to call in an emergency. Rachel could have called him at any time, and he didn’t like the fact that he’d waited like a teenager for the sound of that ring, for her voice. She was getting to him, but that was what Rachel did best.
Living with her would be like walking through land mines.
Not living with her was even worse.
Rachel had always raised that something up in him that was more dangerous than sex, a protective, softer side shifted inside him, the need to open doors for her, put his arms around her and just hold her when she ached for Mallory or in her hard times.
Worse than that, he’d never known such peace, not just from sexual relief, climaxing inside her, but the softness after, her hand stroking his hair, his back.
Holding back those sweetheart urges had now become a real war within himself.
When a man started thinking marriage with a woman as headstrong as Rachel, he was definitely in for trouble…and yet, that was just what Kyle had done while making love to her—thinking about not using that condom, about placing his child deep within those soft clenching folds….
She’d been right about showing off his macho territorial rights; he didn’t want to think of her in another man’s arms, much less his bed….
Kyle allowed himself a grim, self-satisfied smile. Unless that condom glove was lying to him, the tightness of Rachel’s body proved that sex had been a long time ago for her.
And that proved that she trusted him on a base level, or she would never have allowed him intimacy.
She’d pinned his need to set her off with a crude statement to divert his own emotions, the scars he didn’t want touched.
“She’s saucy, looks like she has a real attitude and knows what she wants.” Younger and happily married John Scanlon grinned at Kyle. “She’s locked onto you. You’re drooling, old man…like she’s the only dessert on your table. Know her?”
A hard knot tensed low in Kyle’s body as he remembered Rachel moving beneath him, over him, that aching helpless sound as her body left her control and skyrocketed, convulsing around him. “A little. She’s trouble. Where’s Katrina?”
John, a protective father of the nine-year-old girl, frowned. �
��She’s with her mother in the house, baking cookies. Why?”
“Tell Nola to keep Katrina out of sight for a while, will you?”
“Has this got anything to do with Mallory?” John asked warily.
“Plenty. That’s her sister and she’s not like Mallory.”
“That’s why you came out here last night, wasn’t it? To warn us? You usually call, but this must be really serious…. It’s Rachel, isn’t it? I remember Mallory talking about her, wishing she could be more like her—sharp, intelligent, strong….”
“Just call.” When John picked up his hand unit to call his wife, Kyle leaned back against the red stock car, a nice fast number in the local weekend warrior races.
Dressed in loose flowing blue slacks and a blouse that the slight wind pasted against her curves, Rachel lifted her hand to remove the long leopard print silk scarf from her head. She threw it into the driver’s seat with enough force to show her anger, as unsmiling, her eyes locked with his. There was just that tilt of her head, the edgy posture of her body—one hand rested on the Cadillac’s open window and the other on her jutting hip—that spelled pure attitude. That silent message said she wasn’t going to make the encounter with him easy, that she’d come after answers. Rachel lifted her head and shook it slightly, the wind picking up the strands of her hair.
Then she slowly, meaningfully looked at the girl’s bicycle leaning against the garage. When Rachel looked back at Kyle, that small smug smile said she’d found what she’d wanted.
And what Kyle didn’t want her to see…not yet, not until he was certain Rachel wouldn’t move in to change things and endanger the girl—
He braced himself for the encounter, which was going to be a fast game; Rachel would bird-dog, pinpoint his every word. She leaned back against the Cadillac and crossed her arms, waiting for him to come to her.
Rachel was all curves, using what she had to torment him, to get to him, to nettle him.
And that said he was getting to her, because Rachel wasn’t the kind of woman to use sex to get what she wanted—she’d just go straight for what she wanted. She was enjoying herself now, getting to him, and that meant she was definitely interested….
Kyle didn’t hide his slow perusal of her legs, the place between them where he had lodged so deeply, and higher to her breasts, remembering how they tasted, the peaks….
John finished his call and stood beside Kyle. “Now that is a whole lot of woman.”
“That she is.”
“Yours?” John asked quietly after a perceptive glance at Kyle.
John didn’t know Rachel’s driving need for independence or he wouldn’t have asked that. Just the same, Kyle decided, after a night of passion—some sweet, some hard and demanding on both their parts—he had some small claim on Rachel Everly. A little tough, a little edgy and all woman, Rachel was careful of her relationships and protective of her body, and she’d allowed Kyle both. On the other hand, Kyle understood that she wouldn’t tolerate a free and easy relationship, that both were locked in unspoken rules of this game. “Mine, and neither one of us are happy about it right now.”
Kyle walked to Rachel and framed her body by bracing his hands on the Cadillac’s open window. He reached past her to Pup, who was sitting in the passenger seat amid towels that covered the car’s seat. A cannister of wet wipes sat on the floor; a stack of towels were in the back seat. He stroked Rachel’s hips with his thumbs and leaned in for a hard fast kiss that she returned, without touching him anywhere else. “You wanted me enough to find me, now let’s get out of here,” he murmured against her lips.
The shadows beneath her eyes, her tight tense expression said that she hadn’t been sleeping, that she was locked onto finding answers about Mallory’s life—and death. Rachel wasn’t likely to stop until hell broke loose and she’d dug down through the layers of the past…and answers that Mallory had made him promise not to reveal….
If Rachel uncovered Mallory’s beloved secret, she wouldn’t stop there; she’d want more answers….
But what did Rachel owe Mallory? Why had Mallory flown to New York so quickly to visit Rachel? Why had Mallory changed drastically since that visit?
Rachel lifted her jaw, her face slanting with that attitude that challenged him, her eyes dark with it. “Don’t get any ideas that you’re the only reason I’m here. I’m just delivering your dog. That’s the bicycle you were repairing in your office, wasn’t it? The same pink handlebar grips with fringes? Who’s the girl, Kyle?”
Kyle leaned in close, but Rachel’s crossed arms prevented access to those soft breasts. Nothing about the woman was easy access, he decided as he nudged his boot between her feet, then the other boot, until he was pressing intimately against her body. But she still didn’t uncross her arms, giving him no evidence that he was getting to her. In the Idaho sunlight, with Rachel against him, Kyle momentarily enjoyed the sense that his life was good and rich. But the feeling was only momentary, because Rachel was on the hunt and she wanted answers from him. “How did you find me?”
“I told you, I’m good.”
There was enough huskiness in her voice to tell him she wasn’t immune to the sexual play between them. He nuzzled the side of her face, enjoying her scent, taking it into him. “Patty and Iris, right?”
Her smile moved against his cheek. “Mm. We just happened to play pool last night, after hours and chatting as women do. They were worried about charging up too many phone bills while job shopping. I told them I’d take a look at your past bills and see what kind of calling plan you had. Amazing where telephone numbers can lead.”
Kyle bent to nuzzle her throat, flicking his tongue over that smooth skin, and the slight quiver of her body said she wasn’t immune to his play. He moved to bite her earlobe gently. “You work fast. I only left yesterday. Patty and Iris are supposed to vacate while I’m gone. Time for the kids to grow up someday, and I didn’t think you’d want them there when you make those cute little noises, when you’re struggling to hold back from coming.”
Kyle actually wanted the girls out of harm’s way. Whoever had taken Mallory down that long dark road, might not like the trouble Rachel was certain to stir up—and his little chicks just might end up in danger. Protecting Rachel was going to be difficult enough, especially with a midnight caller appearing at her door…. “What took you so long, honey?”
“Yes, well. I needed time for Patty and Iris’s private lesson with just a little wine later upstairs in my apartment, didn’t I? They’ll probably tell you about how much fun we had. Then I had to follow them home to the junkyard to review those bills—By the way, I met your buddy, Moses Fry.”
“He’s helping move the girls. Did he make an impression?”
“A six-foot-seven human wall with no neck usually does. I’ve seen him in town before, but I didn’t know he belonged to you. What’s he do for a living? Break arms and body parts?”
Kyle fought a smile and lied, “He grows flowers. Orchids are his specialty.”
He’d called in Moses, an ex-wrestler and a contract bodyguard, to help the girls move, and to help protect Rachel and her family—because someone was certain to be provoked by her questions. Someone in Neptune’s Landing liked to hurt women, and Rachel wouldn’t stop until she found who Mallory’s doll represented….
Then, Moses would be a hefty deterrent if Jimmy and his friends decided to make life rough on Rachel.
She angled a disbelieving look up at Kyle and he admired the sweep of her lashes, the way her lips curved and that dimple slid into her cheek. He bent to kiss it briefly, and Rachel braced her hands against his chest to wedge room between them. “Sure. You’re lying, Kyle. But hey, what’s a little white lie between friends. If I’m looking tired, you could make things easy on me. It was over three o’clock in the morning when I got home. Harry still won’t go home with me, by the way. Pup did…he can jump into a car, you know. He’s not easy to trick, by the way, so he stayed in my car all night. I tried to drop him off at
your place on my way out of town at five this morning, but he wasn’t buying and I wasn’t wasting time…. Who is that girl, Kyle?”
He let a strand of that soft fragrant hair cling to his skin, enjoying the sunlit burst of color, reds blending with browns, sparks dancing across the ends. Rachel was tracking, hunting down facts and that quick mind would soon lace them together into a neat package that could endanger Katrina. He had to buy time, to distract Rachel until he could think of a plan to get her away from the girl he’d sworn to protect “Let’s go into town for a hamburger, okay?”
Rachel arched a brow. “Will I get what I want? I’d better, or I’m right back here and I won’t be put off.”
“I know,” Kyle agreed grimly as he rounded the car and opened the passenger door to let Pup out.
The dog immediately ran to John, and Rachel watched the dog’s happy frisky play with him. “Mm. What do you know…. Puphas been here before, hmm?”
Kyle tossed Pup’s towels in the back seat and crooked a finger at Rachel to come to the passenger side. Despite the brewing argument coming up, it was always worth the challenge to Rachel, just to watch her light up to a silent order. She smiled tightly and rounded the car, sitting in the passenger seat. “This better be good,” she warned. “And you had better not race Buttercup.”
He got into the driver’s seat, adjusted it and the rearview mirror to his taller height. He started the car, driving it off the small acreage that John Scanlon Jr. had purchased from his father. Kyle glanced at the scrap of paper tucked into the sun visor of the driver’s seat. Rachel had written, “Margie’s Little Motel” and number for the motel not far from the Scanlons’ place. Something that looked like a confirmation number followed. Two and two weren’t difficult to add—Rachel was staying at the motel.
The car hurried over the paved road and Kyle was just framing what he should or should not tell Rachel when she said, “That’s Scanlon Heat and Cooling on the side of the service truck back there and on that stock car. Scanlon…. as in you?”
