“Your father?”
“Tell him I’m on-site.” Kate took the fresh cup from Paula and went to her office, closing the door behind her. She woke her computer and set to work approving invoices, reviewing shop drawings, and updating the schedule. Hours later, she drove her work truck to the house blurry-eyed and parked on the wide gravel drive.
Butch had spent the day at Angie’s mother’s house, as had most of the town. With Angie’s mother, Margie, being a widow, Butch was the closest thing to family she had in town. He did what he could. He helped with the arrangements, called Angie’s friends, the few who hadn’t already heard, and found the snake people and called them, too. Just when he thought he had things under control, he received a phone call from Fawn that took the drama to a new level. The day had been long and emotionally draining. He turned into his drive and felt a punch of excitement at seeing Kate’s truck parked at the front walk.
He wondered if she’d made dinner, then cringed and hoped she didn’t. He’d scrape together something for them. Wine would be nice. Something to warm them.
Butch parked in the garage and walked into the dark house. He knew immediately she wasn’t there. He checked her bedroom and the living room anyway. The house felt alive when she was in it. Now, it felt like it was hibernating, waiting for her to come home so life would continue again.
Butch came down the steps and walked straight out the back door to the barn. The dog Kate had come to call Chubsy wandered through the yard, looking around like he’d lost something, before he went back out the way he’d come. Butch told himself he was overreacting. Likely, Kate was working on the chore list and would be back when she finished or the sun set. Hungry himself, he hunted through the kitchen and settled on a container of soup his mother put in his freezer. He set a pot on the stove and started to heat dinner, watching through the window as the light faded.
When the sun set, worry took center stage. Butch rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs while he looked around for clues. The tractor was parked in its usual spot. She wasn’t fixing shutters or painting walls. He didn’t think she would have walked off into the fields. Not for work, anyway. He ran to his truck and drove back to the place where Angie had been found.
He banged his head a time or two as he drove too fast over the uneven ground. He slowed down, realizing if she were out here, she walked in the dark. He crept along, keeping his eyes sweeping from left to right across the windshield. He reached the pond without seeing her. Nearing panic, he pulled out his phone.
“Jeb, I can’t find Katie.”
“What do you mean you can’t find her?”
“Her work truck is here, but I can’t find her. She’s not in the house or the barn. I’m back by the pond. It’s as dark as midnight, Jeb.”
“Okay. Stay calm. I’ll be right over. Check her truck. See if anything is missing.”
Butch buckled his seat belt and made it back to the house in half the time. The truck skidded to a halt across the gravel driveway. In the moonlight, Butch could see her truck wasn’t empty. “Katie!”
The world moved in a viscous slow motion. The harder Butch pushed, the faster he ran, the slower he moved. Tears filled his eyes as he wrenched the door open and pulled her rag doll body into his arms.
Chapter Six
With hard, demanding hands, Butch yanked Kate from where she lay draped over the steering wheel. She came up, swimming for the surface from a deep sleep. Legs kicked and hands clawed, catching Butch in the shoulder. He pinned her to the truck, his mind still doubting that she lived and breathed.
Small fists thumped his back. “Get off of me. Get. Off. Me. Can’t. Breathe.”
Butch loosened the steel bands of his arms but didn’t let go. His heart still pounded, his stomach still lodged in his throat. In light of what happened to Angie, he just couldn’t let go. “Thank God. I thought you were dead.” He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her sweet scent.
Kate relaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She stroked his hair as if willing both of their hearts to downshift to first gear. “I’m not dead. I’m just really tired. Tired and hungry.”
Taking her face in his hands, Butch brushed his lips over her tired eyes and her downturned lips. “I have just the thing for that. Chicken soup and a soft bed.”
“Add in a shower, and it sounds like heaven to me.”
The lights from Jeb’s sheriff’s truck cut through the night like a beacon. Kate closed her eyes and pulled her face from Butch’s hands to bury against his neck. The engine cut, and boots shuffled across the gravel.
“You found her,” Jeb said.
“Asleep in her truck,” Butch answered, his arms wrapped protectively around Kate’s head.
“Just like you after a show.” Jeb walked past Butch toward the house. “You got anything to eat? I missed dinner.”
Butch set the small table for three and served the soup his mother made and a box of saltines. He and Jeb talked about meaningless topics over the thick and fragrant soup. Kate ate two bites before pitching forward, all but falling asleep in her bowl. Jeb saved the bowl while Butch caught her up in his arms.
Katie’s head snapped up, her wild gaze sweeping the room as her hands grasped the collar of Butch’s shirt. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
“Easy, Tiger. I’m just putting you to bed.”
“My bed.” Her head fell heavily into the niche in his shoulder.
Butch tickled her ribs. “I like to think of it as our bed.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.” Kate’s eyes were already closed again.
Butch ignored Jeb’s snicker. “You slept with me last night, and we did just fine.” He carried her up the stairs and tucked her in his bed.
“I’m not easy,” she mumbled, more asleep than awake.
Butch brushed her hair from her face. “Now there’s a surprise. Get some sleep. I’ll seduce you in the morning.”
She snuggled into the blanket, a smile growing across her lips. “Maybe I’ll seduce you.”
“Maybe you will, but not before dawn. We’re sleeping in tomorrow.”
Butch woke to the sound of the water running in the shower. Seven-thirty. “It’s better than six,” he muttered, rolling over. Right behind the wall, Kate stood naked in a fall of hot water. Her long red hair, her stubborn chin, her creamy skin. She always wore jeans and a cotton shirt. He’d gotten his hands on her enough to know she hid shapely muscle under all that material. Did she wear sexy panties? He’d have to buy her some. Midnight blue. With lace. Lots of lace.
Butch climbed out of bed and into a worn pair of jeans. He fastened the button over his cock, made raging by an active imagination. He limped down the stairs to make coffee and wait for her. He wanted to see her, be there for her, before her day started. “God, I’m pathetic.”
Kate landed in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, her hair in a wet ponytail trailing down her back. “I didn’t expect to see you up this early.”
“Me neither.” Butch shoved the cup into her hand, frustrated by his own behavior. He should be in bed, but instead he leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “Feeling better?”
Kate smiled radiantly. “I feel fantastic. See what twelve hours of sleep can do for you?”
Butch surveyed the wiggle in her step and the twinkle in her eyes. She fired on all cylinders this morning. “I’m a big proponent of sleep. I’m going right back there after you leave.”
Kate sashayed over to Butch. He raised an eyebrow, trying to read that look in her eyes. Trouble brewed there with a little something else. He didn’t move as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her soft lips to his.
“Good morning.” She kissed him a second time. “Thank you for getting up.” She kissed him again. “Thank you for making coffee.”
He leaned into Katie, his breath fast and ragged, his fingers itching to touch her skin. “Are you seducing me?”
She nipped his lower lip. “I’m thanking
you. How could that ever be mixed up with seducing?” While her words disavowed seduction, her tone embodied it. She dropped her voice to the lowest register, a whiskey whisper that invited him to long, hot nights…and mornings. Her fingers knotted in his hair, holding him captive as she closed the scant inches between them.
Butch tugged at her shirt until his fingers found her bare skin. He brushed his tips along the waist band, stroking the skin as soft as silk. When she pulled away, Butch rested his forehead on hers. “Damn it. Now I’m going to have to get up every morning.”
Kate’s eyes shined as she laughed. She planted a hard kiss on his mouth and stepped away. “What are you doing today after you’re done sleeping?”
“Fawn, my newest ex-to-be, called yesterday. She wants to meet me tomorrow to discuss things. I’ll have to go out to California.”
“I heard you live there. I guess it doesn’t make sense that this is your home.”
“Why doesn’t it make sense?” Unexpectedly offended, Butch’s brows furrowed. Had he fallen so low he wasn’t good enough to call this place home?
“You’re, like, rich and famous, and this house, as great as it is, is empty. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before. Too much going on, I guess. So if you’re going home—”
“She lives there,” he said hastily. “I live here. At least now I do.” Well, that felt right. He lived here.
Kate unzipped the top of her jeans and re-tucked her shirt. “Then why go to California?”
“What?” Butch’s eyes were on her hands, his mind in the gutter.
“Why fly out to California?” Kate sat on a chair and pulled on a boot.
“Because that’s where she is.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “So? You’re here. And you filed the papers here. Tell her planes go both ways and to get her butt out here. Where are you going to meet her?”
“Here?” He looked at the little table with four mismatched chairs.
Kate shook her head. “You know nothing about negotiating, do you? Because that’s what this is. You need someone on your side. A shark. Never negotiate alone.”
Butch smiled. “You?”
Kate laced up her other boot. “No, I’m too impatient. Tom does all our contracts. Who handles your contracts?”
“Finch.”
Kate stood tall, a woman ready to take on the day. “Call him.” A challenge.
Butch rolled his eyes but picked up his phone from the counter and called Finch, pressing the speakerphone button before it rang.
The man answered the first ring. “Butch? You know it’s before ten in the morning?”
Kate muffled a laugh. “You have a reputation.”
“Who’s with you?” Finch asked.
“Landon Finch, my agent, manager, and handler, meet Kate Riley, my roommate, handyman, and soon-to-be lover.”
Kate blushed, which Butch found intriguing given the depth with which she kissed him moments ago. Importantly, though, she hadn’t discouraged him, and she hadn’t denied it.
Kate leaned against the counter next to Butch. “Nice to meet you, Finch.”
“Likewise. What’s going on, Butch?” Clicking in the background said the voice that talked to them multitasked. Standard for Finch. The man seldom did one thing at a time.
“Fawn called and wants to meet. She wants me to come out to California—”
“And you said, ‘Hell no?’” The clicking stopped, the voice at full attention.
“See?” Kate poked him in the ribs. “I told you that was the right answer. Finch, Butch needs a shark in his corner. Do you know any?”
“Baby, who do you think they used as a stand in for Jaws?” Finch’s teeth snapped. “Let me make some calls. Rosencrantz, Bloom, and Cromwell have offices in Nashville. We’ll meet there. There’s nothing like high-powered litigators to scare people into settling. You make a list of all joint assets and what you want.”
Butch rubbed his hair. “I don’t want anything except my equipment and Tessa’s art.”
“You don’t want the house?” Finch asked.
“She painted the entire thing pink. I didn’t take a healthy crap the entire year I lived there.”
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Too much information, Butch. Now that I know you’re in good hands, I’m going to work. Don’t agree to anything without Finch’s okay.”
Butch rolled his eyes again. “For Heaven’s sake. I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re just too nice for your own good. Fortunately for you, you have me. I’ve never been accused of being nice.”
Finch laughed. “I’ve been telling him that for years. Do like Kate says, and don’t agree to anything without me.”
Kate stepped into her office, turned her computer on, and called Tom. She knew without looking that the three missed calls were from him. They always started their day with a quick call, and she had missed their normal time.
“Something wrong, Kate?”
She fell into her chair and rocked back, looking at the ceiling. “Good morning to you, too.”
He grunted. “Good morning. You’re late. What happened?”
Kate hated that Tom had a sixth sense about her and trouble. Denying it made it worse. Tom always found out. Going the long route of denial only made it louder. “Not with the job. I decided to move to that inn I told you about, Elderberry Farm—you know how I hated that motel—anyway, I was helping the owner clear some brush, and I found a body.”
“You found a body? Jesus, Kate. When?” Disbelief unseated annoyance.
“Monday night.”
“And you didn’t say anything yesterday?” Tom’s voice climbed up a few decibels. Irritation took hold, knocking disbelief to the ground.
Why hadn’t she told him? She didn’t try to hide it from him. If anything, she didn’t tell him to avoid thinking about it, because then the remnants of fear she’d felt on the water’s edge crept in. She shook herself like a wet dog. “I think I was in shock. I didn’t get much sleep Monday night, with the cops and all. I really crashed last night.”
“I bet. Do they know who it was?”
Kate inhaled. “Yep. The innkeeper’s ex-wife.”
“What?” Tom roared. “The old man’s ex-wife?”
“Yeah, well, he’s not as old as I made him out to be. And, he’s famous in some circles. His name is Butch McCormick.”
“The country music star?” Now Tom shouted at the top of his lungs.
Kate rolled her eyes. “Has everyone heard of him but me?”
“Isn’t he married to some actress?”
“Fawn would be his soon-to-be third ex-wife. Angie was his first.”
Tom got really quiet. “Are you sleeping with him?”
Kate pursed her lips. “That’s none of your business.”
“Let me get this straight,” Tom said softly. “You’re living in a house with Butch McCormick when you discover the body of his first ex-wife, while he’s still married to his ex-wife to be, while we are building the highest-profile project of our careers, and you don’t think it’s any of my business?”
“I haven’t slept with him.” Kate knew Tom heard the implied “yet.” “There’s nothing to be done. The sheriff, Butch’s brother, is investigating. Can we talk about work?”
“Yeah, sure.” He said the words slowly then paused. “We have a web conference call set up at eleven to coordinate the HVAC. I emailed you the drawings this morning.”
Kate leaned on her desk, grateful Tom had dropped the topic so readily. She opened her email and waited while the files loaded. He usually was a bulldog once he sank his teeth in something. He must have been worried about the drawings. She’d make a point of being ready for the meeting. “Got it. I’ll review them before the call.”
Construction sites had plenty of days filled with drama, which made days like this worth appreciating. The call with HVAC worked out needed details. The forms came off the concrete pours and looked perfect. Nobody acted like a moron. An afternoon rain r
ewarded a productive morning with an excuse to head out a few hours early. She drove to Butch’s house looking forward to a quiet evening with him. She didn’t date much and, while she played it up this morning, didn’t have a lot of experience with seducing a man. She thought she’d done okay except it worried her that he didn’t move. If he really liked what she did, wouldn’t he have touched her more? All he did was run his fingers along her waistband. True, the electricity that charged through her system nearly gave her a coronary. She wondered if it felt like that for him. She should do something, she decided, to say she was interested in a little something more, even if it was just a short-lived affair while they were both in town. The timing sucked. Starting the divorce process had to be the worst time to start any kind of new relationship.
Relationship. Now there’s a word. Did she want a relationship with Butch? She’d be crazy not to want a relationship with a man like him. He appealed to her on so many levels. She admired his creative side—it took an amazingly smart and talented person to play and write music. She loved his casual manner. Kate knew she was high strung and she was worse when she worried or stressed. Around Butch, she laughed more, had fun more, liked herself better. Yeah, she’d be crazy not to want to be with him.
Except…she wasn’t staying.
For the first time she could remember, the idea of moving to the next project saddened her instead of excited. Kate turned into Butch’s driveway, resolve taking hold. She was here, now. She didn’t have a year to give him, but she would offer him what she had.
Kate parked her truck on the edge of the gravel driveway, next to a sheriff’s truck. She told herself not to read into it. Jeb stopping by didn’t have to mean he’d solved Angie’s murder. He could just be saying hello to Butch, or, more likely, warning him off a certain redhead. Kate stomped onto the porch ready for an argument with Butch’s older brother.
She faced an unexpected sight—Butch and Jeb standing in the living room, arms crossed and glaring at each other.
“What’s happened now?” she asked.
“The preliminary time of death is between nine and noon on Monday,” Jeb said.
Lost in Tennessee Page 10
