Her heart fumbled a beat at the memory. That was a dangerous look, coming from a dangerous man.
So caught up was she in her train of thought that she almost missed the turn-off for Route 213. Slowing the car, she made the turn and forced her thoughts onto a different track. As she tooled along the two-lane road, Diana looked to her right and was able to see glimpses of the dark blue of the Damariscotta River, which widened into Damariscotta Lake further north, where Aunt Belinda’s house was. The sun was low in the sky, and dropping nearly as quickly as she was driving. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to see the water at all.
The forest was so dense along the lake that the houses were completely private—you couldn’t even see the lights of a neighbor’s house at night. Diana didn’t mind the isolation, but as she turned onto the dirt lane that led to the house, she realized just how far away from civilization she was.
Ethan Tannock lived on the lake too, and from their brief conversation on the day he’d driven her home, she knew that he lived very close by. He took the same dirt lane that she did, but when it made a triple fork near the lake, she turned right and he turned left. Nevertheless, there was no more than a half-mile between their houses.
Somehow, the thought that Ethan Tannock lived so near by both relieved and unsettled her.
The Lexus’s headlights cut beams through sudden, enveloping darkness as the car bumped down the road through the forest. The intermittent winks of fireflies broke the solid black, and twice she saw reflections of the eyes of some critter crouched by the side of the road. Of necessity, she drove slowly—between the potholes, the curves of the road, and the possible intrusion of deer, she had no choice but to do so. Bugs collected, thick and angry, in the lights, and as a result splashed onto the windshield like raindrops. So much for late-night swimming, Diana mused, shuddering at the thought of moths, mosquitoes, and deer flies swarming around her.
It was nearly pitch-black by now, and Diana was thankful that she’d left a porch light on, as well as two lights in the house.
When she came to the fork in the lane, she tossed a glance toward the darkness where Ethan’s house would be and was surprised and, to be honest, relieved to see the faint glimmer of light through the forest. He was closer than she’d realized.
Now, she turned onto the tire-track lane that led to Aunt Belinda’s house. Driving required her full attention, as tree limbs brushed into the car’s path and the ruts were enough to jounce the car like a rough boat ride, even when the vehicle crept along at five miles per hour. At last, she pulled up a slight incline into the clearing. The white clapboard house, with its three gables and large wrap-around porch, sat in the center of an open area surrounded by trees. In darkness.
Diana pulled the car up next to the dark house and stared, her heart lodged in her throat. She was certain she’d left the lights on—on the porch, and in the den and kitchen. Hesitantly, she turned off the ignition and sat in the car for a moment, unease pattering along her spine and kneading her stomach.
Why was she so creeped out?
Steeling herself, telling her odd nervousness to go away, she slowly opened the car door. Perhaps she’d meant to turn on the lights, and had forgotten. But, no, she distinctly remembered going into the den to turn on the lamp just before she walked out the door to take Jonathan to the airport.
The power could be out. She wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not.
Diana grasped the door handle and pulled the latch to open it, stepping hesitantly into the night air. There hadn’t been a storm, but perhaps there was another reason for a power outage.
The darkness of the forest hovered at the far edges of the open yard, and she glanced up to see the glittering display of stars. The Milky Way and a quarter-moon lit the clearing nearly as well as a porch light would, increasing her flagging courage. She muddled through her key ring and located the key to the front door, then grabbed her bag and stepped lightly up the porch steps.
It was a bit of a struggle to fit the key into the lock, shadowed as it was, and once the key slid into place, she had to rotate it one way, then the other, and back again before the knob would turn.
Finally, the door caved open into the dark house and Diana stepped in gingerly, her heart still doing odd things in her chest. She felt along the wall for a nearby light switch, and just as she turned to flick it on, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.
Whirling, she gasped and screamed at the sight of the murky silhouette, which froze. Then it was a flurry of movement, rushing toward her. A powerful shove sent her slamming full-force into the wall and the impact knocked all of the breath from her body. Diana slid to the floor, bracing for another blow as she blindly grasped for something to use as a weapon. But the intruder dashed past her—out the open door, stomping across the wooden porch and thudding down the steps.
Shaking, nauseated and terrified, Diana managed to struggle to her feet in time to rush to the door and see a figure dashing into the woods...into the woods toward Ethan Tannock’s house.
FIVE
A full, fierce anger swept over Diana, and all of her nervousness slid away. That jerk!
Without a second thought, she picked up the keys, turned on the foyer light, and slammed out the front door. Not even bothering to lock it behind her, she ran down the steps, gripping the key chain, her lips tight and her eyebrows puckered so firmly that her head started to ache.
This was going to stop.
She yanked the car door shut behind her to punctuate her fury and determination, and cranked the key so far that the engine ground for a split-second before it caught. The tires spewed gravel from the drive into the air, raining onto the porch as she turned the Lexus around and started down the winding lane.
Driving much faster than she had on her arrival, Diana had little care for the scrapes and nicks her beloved gold car would get from the tree branches. She was that incensed. And as furious as she was, she remembered to feel alongside her seat for the can of pepper spray that she always carried with her—just in case.
Although she had never been to Ethan Tannock’s home, she knew where it was and turned down the curving drive that could only lead to his doorstep. When her car rounded a sharp corner to face a closed garage entrance, she slammed on the brakes and turned off the ignition, leaving the keys in the car, and jumped out.
Blind fury drove her as she stalked around the side of the house, the can of pepper spray at the ready, into the small clearing...and stopped short.
Two men had turned to gape at her. They stood near a smoking grill. A floodlight illuminating the yard clearly indicated that they were in the midst of preparing to eat. The luscious scent of grilled steak permeated her anger, as did the casual demeanor of the men and the fact that neither of them were breathing heavily from a dead-heat run. Nor were they dressed in black.
“Well, now, Ethan, you didn’t tell me we were gonna have company for supper,” drawled one of them in a voice that she vaguely recognized. “Who is that?”
Wishing that the earth would open up and swallow her, Diana forced herself to start forward nonchalantly, crossing her arms over her chest to obscure the pepper spray.
When she stepped into the illumination, she heard Ethan’s soft exclamation. “Well, well. Diana Iverson, what are you doing here?” He started toward her slowly, looking at her with an expression that indicated total shock and wariness.
Not the most welcoming of greetings, she thought wryly, focusing on anything but how incredibly stupid she felt. But under the circumstances, it was not unexpected. “I—uh ….”
Words failed her, and stuck even further in her throat when she actually looked at him. Her gaze became trapped, fixed on a shirtless, muscled, darkly-haired torso that looked like it belonged to someone like David Beckham. Diana swallowed, jerking her attention away so that it bounced down over his swim trunks, to legs that matched his abdomen in physical perfection, and finally up to a stony, set face.
“Is there so
mething I can help you with?” His voice was calm, but irritation glinted his eyes. “Unless you normally go speeding up someone’s driveway like the hounds of hell were after you, on your way to a neighborly visit.”
The man didn’t have to like her, but he didn’t have to be so rude either, Diana thought desperately—conveniently dismissing her own previous rudeness. Hoping for assistance, she glanced at Ethan’s companion for the first time, and suddenly recognized him with a flood of relief. “Captain Tettmueller, I’m so glad you’re here!”
He stood, unfolding a tall, lanky body topped by a worn baseball cap. Spiky, straw-colored hair stuck out from around the hat in endearing little curls, giving the grown man a boyish look. “What can I do you for, Ms. Iverson? Is ever’ thing all right?”
Suddenly, the impact of what she’d experienced rushed over her and, as her surge of angry adrenaline dissipated, weakness flooded her body. What a stupid thing to do, she thought numbly.
Ethan must have seen something change in her demeanor, for he snagged a lawn chair and swung it to a place right in front of her. “Sit down, Diana. Do you want something to drink? Obviously something’s wrong,” he added, glancing at his friend.
“Yes, yes.” She began to babble—something she knew she was doing, that she hated herself for, but she couldn’t help it under the circumstances, and poured out the whole story.
Ethan thrust a cold bottle into her hand and she took a gulp of unexpectedly heavy, stout beer—then had to swallow the awful stuff. She handed the bottle back to him and finished her explanation, “So I got in the car and—” She stopped, realizing what she had been about to say.
Ethan wasn’t slow. He knew exactly why she clamped her mouth shut. The woman had done it again—thought the worst of him—and nearly accused him to his face of breaking into her house. Attempting to hide his growing pissed-offness, he brought the bottle to his own lips, and, as he sipped, realized that her full, sexy mouth had just covered the very same opening. Damn.
It wasn’t just the beer that made a warm trail snake down to his belly. He drank again, checking her out from beneath lowered lids while Joe Cap slid into police officer mode and began to question the damsel in distress.
Man, she’d come roaring up the drive like a maniac. Lucky she hadn’t hit anything on the way or spun into a tree. She wouldn’t have surprised them like that if Cady hadn’t gotten herself sprayed by a skunk—a regular happening in the summer that they were both used to—and was locked away in the laundry room while the tomato juice bath did its work.
Then, with a snort of disgust that caused Cap to glance at him in confusion, Ethan placed the bottle on the ground with a dull thump. What the hell was wrong with him? The poor woman had come home to find an intruder in her house, had been pushed around by him, and all Ethan could think about was his own pride...and those full, sexy lips and flustered, tousled hair.
“Are you hurt?”
His question caused the others to look at him as though surprised he even existed. She turned to him, her dark blue eyes large and showing more vulnerability than he’d yet to see, and something twisted deep inside him. Not good.
“Nothing more than a bang on the temple and a bruise on the hip,” she replied. Then, turning back to Cap, she resumed the conversation between them. “So I’ll need to file a report tomorrow?”
“Yep. Got any idear why someone might have wanted in the house? Was anything disturbed?”
Diana shook her head. “I didn’t stick around long enough to see. I had...the crazy idea that I might be able to catch...the guy.”
Ethan snorted. This time the derision was aimed at her, even though he knew she’d assumed he was the intruder, and he folded his arms over his bare chest. “That was a smart thing to do.”
Temper flared in her expression, bringing a sparkle back to her eyes and a slight flush to her cheeks. “I had this.” She shoved a can into his face, just under his nose. “Want me to try it out?”
He blinked, looking down awkwardly at the spray nozzle that was aimed right at his mouth. At least her finger wasn’t on the trigger. “No thanks. I guess you were prepared.”
And then, just because he couldn’t resist and because she really did need to be taken down a notch, he made a quick movement—fluid and sharp—and suddenly the can was in his hands and she was slamming into his chest, one arm folded back behind her.
Heat flooded Ethan the instant she connected with his body, shocking him so that he nearly released her as quickly as he’d grabbed her. Thanks to his post-divorce moratorium, he hadn’t had female curves plastered against him for two years.
Diana’s face tilted up in surprise of her own, eyes flaring wide and lips parting in a startled gasp. Her breasts rose with quick, shallow breaths, pressing against his chest, and one knee was cocked into his thigh. He could smell that floral, feminine scent from her hair, and felt the fragility of the narrow wrist he’d captured behind her back. For a moment, it was just the two of them caught in an awkward, titillating pose. Then suddenly, with a short laugh to cover his chagrin, he released her.
“It was a foolish thing to do,” he said mildly, handing her back the can of pepper spray—his point having been made quite clearly. Still, his heart did leaps and dives even as she retrieved the can with those pruny lips and turned away.
Cap spoke up then and offered to see her home and to check out the house to be certain nothing else was amiss. Ethan considered going along, but one frigid look from the lady lawyer gave him cause to rethink that option.
He didn’t want to go anyway.
* * *
Belinda’s house loomed dark and forbidding in the center of the clearing. Diana had left in such haste that she hadn’t turned on any lights. But somehow returning in the company of a police officer did wonders for her courage.
Captain Tettmueller led the way inside, and she followed, dogging his footsteps silently as he went from room to room, thoroughly checking them. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance and when they finally returned to the kitchen, Diana felt more comfortable, knowing that there was no one in the house.
“You’ve got sturdy locks and there’s no easy entry,” he commented in his snail’s pace drawl. “Looks like he forced his way in through the back door. He won’t come back tonight. You caught him in the act, he knows you’re home...and since he didn’t—er—attack you, violence is not his intent. I’ll send the patrol car down here a coupla times the rest of the night, though, and notify the Lincoln County sheriff about the break-in as well. But are you sure you want to stay here by yourself?”
She didn’t hesitate. Somehow she knew there was nothing more to fear tonight. “I’ll be fine. Tomorrow I’ll come down and file a report, and get the locks changed again, but—”
“Again?”
She felt the slight flush of embarrassment creep over her face. “I just had them changed a few days ago.”
“Has the house been broken into before?” Intensity replaced the golly-gee look on his face as he waited for her answer.
She might as well tell him, for the record. Just because she had been wrong about Ethan tonight didn’t mean he was innocent of everything else. “Ethan Tannock was in here the other day when I was in town.”
The dawn crept over his face. “Ahhhh. So that’s why—” He changed the route of his words and asked, “How do you know that?”
“He...left a note.” As she said it, she felt even more foolish. Who would leave a note advertising a break-in?
The expression on his face echoed these thoughts, but manners obviously won out and he didn’t say anything about that. Joe Cap just looked at her very seriously and said, “Now, Miss Iverson, I know you’re new to these parts, but Ethan Tannock is the last person you’d ever have to worry about in that way.”
She shot him a disbelieving look. “You’re right, I am new to these parts. But I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. You may all be part of the good-old-boys’ club, and if I hadn’t seen hi
m hanging out so casually tonight with my own two eyes, I would still suspect he was the one who was here this evening. He was taking advantage of my aunt, and her eccentric beliefs, and when I find the proof, I’m going to nail him.”
Captain Tettmueller made a strange noise that sounded like a choking laugh, but when she turned to look at him, his face was deadpan serious. “Right, miss. Well, I sure hope for the professor’s sake you don’t take too long to...uh...nail him.”
Having the suspicion he was laughing at her, Diana drew her lips together. But something else he’d said had caught her attention. “The professor?”
“Yeah, that’s Tannock. He’s some bigwig down to Princeton in the labs where they study ESP and psychics—though when he’s up here, he’s just a reg’lar guy who likes to fish and drink beer. Nasty divorce a coupla years ago, and—”
“Princeton?” she repeated, frowning, and a tiny snake of uncertainty zapped her. Then, she regrouped. If that’s what he was telling people, including Belinda, that was easy enough to check on. She’d do that first thing in the morning, before going down to the police station. “Well, thank you very much, Captain Tettmueller. I’m sorry if I interrupted your dinner, but I do appreciate your checking things out down here.”
“No prob, miss.” He touched his fingers to the brim of his cap. “Gotta get home to the wife, anyway. She’s probably chewed a hole through her lip, wondering where I am.”
After he left, when the house became silent again, Diana retreated to the kitchen. It was late—nearly midnight—but she was wide-awake and her veins were zipping with energy. By all rights, she should be a bundle of nerves, here, alone, in this house where she’d come to believe her aunt was murdered and she had just tonight surprised an intruder.
But she wasn’t. It was odd...it was as though she knew. Knew things were safe now.
Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 9
