Lightning flared, a catalyst that knifed through the chaos of her emotions.
“No!”
She jerked free. Drew sat back.
Then the windshield exploded outward in a clap of sound.
Chapter Four
In the instant it took his mind to process what had happened, his body was already reacting. “Get down!” Drew shouted. He tugged her across the seat and covered her body with his own.
Rain pelted the car. Thunder rumbled. He registered the sound of a car speeding away. By the time he lifted his head, there were only two red taillights disappearing in a blur.
Brie sat up slowly.
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
“I think so. What happened?”
He watched her puzzlement change to dawning comprehension and then horror as she stared at the hole in the windshield.
Drew reached for his cell phone.
“Wait! What are you doing?” She grabbed for the instrument.
“Take it easy. I’m calling the police.”
“You can’t!” She snatched the phone from his hand and tossed it over the seat.
“Why did you do that?”
“You can’t call the police.”
“Why not? Someone just shot at us.” And he had a pretty good idea who that someone was.
“Don’t you realize what will happen if it gets out you were here with me?”
Panic edged her voice up an octave. She was shaking, and he had to grip her arm to prevent her from getting out of the car. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes were wide, dark orbs. Getting shot at was enough to terrify anyone, but he sensed there was more going on here. He had a sudden image of the older man he’d seen her with at the gun range. “Have you got a jealous boyfriend?” Or worse, “Are you married?”
“Of course not!”
She wasn’t married.
“I have to go inside,” she said gripping the dashboard with whitened knuckles. “My…mother will be worried.”
“Brie, someone shot at us!”
“I know,” she said, obviously shaken. “But it couldn’t have been Razz.”
Razz? “Do you mean that punk kid who hangs out at the arcade?”
Lightning flashed in the distance.
“That punk kid is my age,” she said without inflection.
Drew cursed under his breath. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Razz may be a boy in your eyes, but he’s no friend of mine.”
Rain drummed against the car. He looked from the bullet hole to where she perched on the edge of the seat, hands defensively crossed over her chest. A horrible thought skated through his mind. He’d been so certain Leland Manning had fired the shot. But what if it hadn’t been meant for him at all?
“Are you in some sort of trouble, Brie?”
A loud rumble of thunder made her start. “Of course not, but you know what this town is like. The gossips will have a field day. A mayoral candidate sitting in a parked car with a local waitress.”
She was right. They would.
“Please, I have to go inside,” she said quickly before he could ask why that mattered. “I have to make sure my…my mother is all right.”
Lightning flared, making her freckles stand out against her pale skin.
“Wait. Why did you mention Razz? Is he hassling you?” She’d been staring at the alley between the buildings as he’d driven up tonight. He’d even wondered then if something had spooked her. “Are you afraid of Razz?”
Quickly, Brie shook her head. “Of course not! I only thought of him because…well, I embarrassed him tonight in front of his friends. But he wouldn’t come after me with a gun because of it.”
She was hiding something. He could sense it.
“Don’t worry, I can handle Razz.”
Razz was a petty hood. He wouldn’t take well to being embarrassed, but firing a rifle at her would be pretty extreme.
“I only know Razz by reputation.”
“Then you know Razz,” she said dryly.
The rain showed no sign of slackening. Drew knew it wasn’t safe for them to continue sitting there in the car. No matter which of them the shot had been intended for, there was only one course of action. “Fasten your seat belt, Brie, we’re going to the police station.”
“And tell them what? Someone we didn’t see in a car we can’t identify drove up behind us and fired into the car? What do you think the police will do about this?”
“They’ll investigate for one thing.”
As the sky lit again he noticed the tiny lines of strain etched around her eyes and mouth. The rough skin of her hands attested to how hard she worked. Only now did he realize how thin she was beneath that shapeless uniform. Frustration hammered at him, matching the rhythm of the rain.
“I can’t believe it was Razz, and Police Chief Redfern will never let his officers question Frederick Thane about a drive-by shooting.”
The mayor’s name was so unexpected he could only gape at her.
“Are you saying you think the mayor of Moriah’s Landing drove up behind us and tried to kill me?” he finally asked incredulously.
“Of course not. He hires people to do his dirty work. You’re a threat to him, Drew—not like the others who had the temerity to run against him in the past. I’m pretty sure he hired Razz and his friend Dodie to spread a vicious rumor around town. Razz is saying that you murdered Ursula Manning because you were having an affair with her.”
The storm was sweeping farther inland, but the incessant rain continued to batter the roof of the car. The night had taken on a surreal feeling.
“Spreading rumors is a long way from murder.” And then it struck him. “Is that why you and Razz had words? Were you defending me?”
She opened the door and stepped from the car before he could stop her this time. Rain plastered her hair to her head and molded the thin cotton uniform to her body.
“Call the police,” she said, bending over the open door. “I’m sure they’ll do up a nice little report for you, there isn’t much else they can do. And if anyone bothers to question Razz, I guarantee you he’ll have an airtight alibi with a dozen questionable witnesses.” She wiped at the water streaming down her face. “Be careful, Drew. If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from this part of town from now on.”
Brie shut the door and ran across the lawn and up the sagging front steps. Unlocking the door, she slipped inside without looking back. The porch light winked out at once. Lightning starkly outlined the house against the storm-filled sky.
Brianna was afraid.
He stared at the bullet hole. A matching hole was visible in the rear window. A very well-placed shot given the wind and rain conditions. Either a marksman had tried to kill one of them, or it had been an incredibly lucky shot. The smart thing—the only sane thing to do—was to have the police investigate.
Drew made no move to recover his cell phone from the back seat.
He had noticed some of the posted scores at the tournament yesterday. Frederick Thane was an excellent marksman.
PULLING UP TO THE MAIN house at the family compound, Drew tried to figure out why he wasn’t sitting at the police station. He let himself inside and headed down the hall to his father’s office. The opulent house was as silent as a tomb. He stepped inside the empty office and closed the door behind him.
Had he made a serious mistake tonight?
Wind swept against the house, rattling the bank of windows with a mournful howl. Drew thrust his hands in his pockets and stared out at the night. Not that there was much to see. The compound had been designed with privacy in mind. Thick stands of evergreens sheltered the house and the outbuildings from prying eyes. So did the ivy-covered stone walls that surrounded the patrolled grounds.
Out on the cove, a foghorn emitted its mournful warning.
“Just what I need, more atmosphere.”
Moriah’s Landing had always offered that. He wondered what his ancestors would make of the t
own today. Running a hand through his damp hair, he gazed unseeingly around the dark, richly paneled office. There was a musty feel to the room. The scent of old cigar smoke lingered in the dark burgundy carpeting and the expensively upholstered guest chairs.
The room’s lamps seemed muted, as if the light cowered from the dark shadows hovering in the corners of the room. Drew knew just how that light felt. In those shadows he could almost feel the eyes of his ancestors watching in judgment to see what he would do next.
He strode to the ornately carved serving table, uncorked the heavy lead crystal decanter and poured himself a snifter of the very expensive brandy his father kept there. He hated brandy, yet it seemed oddly appropriate at the moment. If Brie’s assumption was correct, he’d nearly joined his ancestors tonight.
He lifted the glass in mocking salute to the ghosts of the past and swallowed a healthy dose of the thick, syrupy alcohol. Instantly, liquid fire seared a path straight down his throat.
Drew managed not to choke.
There was a delicate knock and Nancy Bell stepped inside the room. Her gaze went straight to the glass in his hand and her worried expression deepened. “Drinking alone?”
“Unless you’d care to join me.”
“I don’t like brandy.”
“Me neither.” He set the balloon glass down.
Nancy had opted to stay at the main house rather than one of the guest cottages while she was in town. He’d expected to find her here in the office discussing politics with his grandfather at this hour.
“What’s going on, Drew?” Nancy demanded without preamble. “You can’t pull scenes like the one in the diner today and expect to win an election. Especially not after what happened at the tournament yesterday. If something in your past is coming out to bite us, I need to know about it now.”
Nancy glided forward, letting her soft fingers linger against his skin in subtle invitation. Her perfume mingled with the scent of brandy.
“Someone shot a hole through the family sedan tonight.”
“What?” She dropped her hand.
Without embellishment, Drew told her everything, including his earlier encounter with Manning, and his suspicion that the scientist had shot at him to get even for his wife’s death. Nancy heard him out in silence, though her body tightened at the mention of Brie’s name.
“I know you often work with an investigator, Nancy. Do you think he can find out where Frederick Thane was tonight without raising eyebrows or stirring a lot of talk?”
“You can’t believe he was responsible. This is incredible.”
Nancy paced the room. Drew thought she looked perfectly at home in his father’s study. Stylishly elegant, without a hair out of place, he could all but hear her mind whirring as it sorted actions and ramifications.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t call the police.”
Drew wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t either. His stomach contracted every time he thought about how close the shot had come. “Because we didn’t see the person or even the car well enough to identify it so there wasn’t much point. It’s a situation ripe for public speculation.”
“Yes. It is. Thane has been mayor a long time. My team learned a few disturbing things during the preliminary investigation, but we couldn’t find proof of illegal activities.” She paced rapidly, frowning. “You should have called the police. On the other hand, if the shot was intended for the waitress—”
“Her name’s Brianna,” he said sharply. “She’s a friend of mine who just happens to be a waitress.” Drew remembered Brie’s words. How do you think it will look? A mayoral candidate, sitting in a parked car with a local waitress.
Nancy ignored his rebuke. “We definitely don’t want to stir up a lot of negative talk around town, which this would definitely do. I’ll put some people on Thane and this Razz.” She came to a halt in front of him. “Do we have a real name for him?”
“His last name is Razmuesson. I’m not sure about his first name.”
“I’ll find out.”
Nancy laid her hand on his bare arm. Drew couldn’t help but contrast its softness to Brie’s work-roughened skin.
“The theory that Thane tried to kill you makes little sense. Manning is a possibility, given his verbal threat, but I’m more inclined to think your friend was the intended target. Carey told me you haven’t seen her in years. Who knows what she may be involved in?”
Drew wanted to defend Brie, but hadn’t he had similar thoughts all the way back to the compound?
“I’ll put the investigators on Brianne Dudley and Leland Manning as well. We’ll see what turns up.”
Drew hesitated. His first instinct was to protest an invasion of Brie’s privacy. Only, if she was in trouble, maybe there was some way he could help.
“The police called while you were out,” she added with a frown. “They want to talk to you again.”
“Was it Cullen Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll call him back in the morning.”
“We need to hire a bodyguard for you.”
“No bodyguards!”
“But—”
“Nancy, either you’re working for my father and my grandfather or you’re working for me. You need to decide.”
Her hand lingered against his skin. As she gazed at him earnestly, he couldn’t miss the subtle invitation in her eyes. Poised, confident, experienced, Nancy was as intelligent as she was attractive.
“I work for you, Andrew. I made that decision when I told you I’d take the job. Your father has an excellent campaign manager of his own, and your grandfather doesn’t need one anymore.”
“Then I’ll go back to my place and get to work on that speech you want me to make.”
“Would you like me to…help?”
Looking at her perfect creamy skin, he found himself missing a spray of freckles and bright green eyes.
“Thanks, but I need to do some thinking tonight.”
A bit wistfully, the hand dropped from his arm.
“If you change your mind…”
“Thanks, Nancy.”
He watched the subtle sway of her hips as she left, closing the door behind her. Nancy Bell was a class act. A man could do a lot worse than have a woman like her for a partner. As long as the man didn’t lose sight of the fact that she had an agenda of her own.
“Everyone has an agenda,” he told the shadows. The windows rattled in answer.
The Pierce family agenda had always been law and politics and science. Anton Pierce had been a savvy lawyer as well as a respected politician. His wife’s family fortune had added a great deal to the Pierce family coffers. Ever since Drew could remember it had been drummed into him that a politician needed the perfect wife.
“Sow your oats while you can, boy,” his grandfather had told him the summer after Tasha died. “But you be careful around doxies like that one down at the wharf you’ve been sniffing after. Use common sense. There must be no scandal to mar our family name. The public is sick and tired of political scandal.”
“Brie is hardly a doxie,” he’d said, bristling, trying to hide his surprise that the old man knew of his interest in young Brianna Dudley. “She attends Heathrow College, you know.”
“On a full scholarship,” the old man had said dismissively. “She has no money, no name, no clout, no connections. The woman you select for a wife must be a perfect fit. Can you honestly see that redheaded hoyden sitting down to dinner with the governor?”
The image had brought a smile to his lips then, even as the memory did now. Brianna Dudley didn’t have a conservative bone in her body. But when she smiled at Drew with that open, innocent smile, he stopped thinking past tasting those tempting lips.
A tap on the office door brought him back to reality. Zach cracked the door open and stuck his head inside.
“You busy?”
“I’m supposed to be working on my speech. Come on in.”
Zach skidded to a halt when he spied th
e brandy snifter. “I thought you hated brandy. What next? Cigars with the good old boys?”
“Stick a sock in it, Zach.”
“What did Ms. Perfect say to upset you now?”
Drew set down his glass and studied his younger brother. There was an edginess to his voice that belied his casual slouch. “Nancy didn’t upset me. We were talking strategy.”
“Yours or hers?”
Surprised by the astute question, Drew cocked his head. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
His brother slumped against the bookcase. “I need some advice.”
“From me?” He kept the surprise out of his voice.
“Even you get some things right.”
“Like what?” Drew asked suspiciously.
“Women.”
Drew forgot to inhale.
“You’ve got a reputation.”
Embarrassed, he forced himself not to look away. “It’s highly exaggerated.”
“Hey, this is me, remember? I don’t just read the paper. Last year there was the fashion model, then that actress, and—”
“Knock it off. They were just women I dated.”
“Exactly. You must use a scorecard to keep track.”
“What’s your point, Zach?”
“You’ve dated at least a dozen women in the past couple of years and you’ve managed to remain friends with all of them.”
Except for one redheaded hoyden.
“So I want some advice.”
“You want to break up with someone without hurting her feelings?”
“No! You didn’t marry any of these women despite the pressure coming from Dad and Grandpa and everyone.” Zach rushed as if he had to get the words out quickly. “How did you know none of them were the right woman?”
A sinking feeling settled over him. Drew tried for a light approach. “You thinking of getting married?”
“Maybe.”
He ran a hand over his jaw. “You’re serious.”
“About Emily, I think I am.”
“Emily? You don’t mean Emily Ridgemont, do you?” Emily Ridgemont was Kat Ridgemont’s younger half sister. Kat had been part of the group their sister used to run around with. The last he’d heard, Kat was working as a private investigator with an office down by the wharf. He didn’t know anything about her kid sister, though he’d heard some rumors that she had a crush on his brother. Drew hadn’t paid any attention at the time.
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