“I ordered them to cover the forms. To help, Jeb, with the storm.” Kate closed her eyes and swallowed. “I compromised the site. Again. Just like I did with Angie.”
Jeb nodded. “Somebody saw you, Kate.”
Tom filled the doorway. “Somebody saw Kate do what?” He stood with his arm hanging heavy, looking wet and muddy, exhausted and mean. Dark bags circled his eyes, and concrete dust frosted his hair. “What exactly did somebody see?”
Jeb stood to face Tom. “Somebody saw her driving on the site.”
Kate huffed out a laugh. “Oooo, somebody saw me driving around my own site. Let’s see, I only do that about ten times a day.”
“This was Tuesday, after dark,” Jeb said. “One of the men spotted you driving your truck. You had someone with you.”
“It wasn’t me! I was in Louisville all day. I came home around ten thirty. All of you were here!”
Jeb jotted down notes. “You took your truck to Louisville?”
“No. I dropped it off with Hyde Monday before work. I took the Shelby to Louisville. Hyde brought the truck back this morning.”
Butch laced his fingers with Kate’s, facing this as a team. “Jeb, Hyde thought the truck had been moved. He thought he backed the truck into an empty bay, but this morning it was turned around.”
Jeb’s lips tightened until they didn’t exist. “I’ll talk to him.” He looked at Kate. “Do I have your permission to search the truck? I need to take a look.”
“Yes, but I went through it this morning after Hyde talked to us. I didn’t notice anything out of place.”
Will power. Butch knew that alone kept Kate in the house with him instead of out in the driveway with Jeb and Tom. Her right foot tapped a quick little beat. The fingers of her hand, wrapped under her chest, drummed on her rib cage.
“I’m trying not to be freaked out at the idea that someone took a joy ride in my truck. It’s like someone rummaging through my underwear without my permission. The idea that someone used my truck to dump Fawn’s body is going to make me puke. I’ll never drive it again.”
Butch wrapped his arms across her shoulders. “I wish I had a clue as to what is going on.”
“What’s going on is someone is fucking with us. Setting you up for Angie; me up for Fawn. My phone is ringing.” Kate snatched the phone off the piano bench.
“Don’t touch it,” Butch said, catching her by the arm. “Jeb is going to check it for prints.”
“Well I can touch it. He expects to find my prints,” Kate reasoned. “It’s the Cicada CEO. I need to take it. Chuck. I’m glad you called me back. You heard about the trouble?”
Butch quietly stepped outside, leaving Kate to her call and curious himself as to what progress Jeb made. The doors of the truck stood open, light spilling across the gravel drive. Butch couldn’t see Jeb but knew he stood on the driver’s side, bent into the truck. Tom stood in the open passenger door, looking at Jeb, his back to Butch. He answered questions Jeb asked. Neither noticed him standing in the shadows behind Tom.
“Are these gloves Kate’s?” Jeb spoke, his voice muffled by the truck, but Butch heard him clearly.
“They look like the pair she wears, and they’re in her truck,” Tom answered.
“So you’re saying they are hers?”
Silence hung a moment. “Are you asking as Jeb my drinking buddy or Jeb the sheriff?”
“All right. I’m going to take her truck in.”
“She’s not going to be happy.”
“Tom, I’m worried about your cousin.”
“You don’t think she killed Fawn, do you?”
“I haven’t always been a county sheriff. I’ve seen things that would give grown men nightmares. I’ve seen evil at work, Tom. So I know what I’m talking about when I say something evil is at work, right here in my hometown. It’s taken me too long to see it, and now three women are dead.”
“Three?” Tom shifted, letting more light spill out toward Butch.
“Butch has three dead wives.” Jeb crossed his arms.
Tom clenched his fists. “And now you think someone is targeting Kate.”
Jeb sighed. “Setting her up? Definitely. Let’s just hope she doesn’t end up as number four.”
Tom spoke, his voice a dangerous growl. “She’s not going to be here for it to happen.”
Jeb spoke gently. “She can’t leave, Tom. She’s a person of interest in Fawn’s death.”
Butch gritted his teeth and stepped into the light. “How long have you suspected something is going on?”
Tom jumped at the sound of Butch’s voice, planting his shoulder into the edge of the door. “Shit! How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough. Why didn’t you tell me, Jeb?”
Quiet and stern, Jeb spoke through his teeth. “It’s just a suspicion. I don’t know anything. Yet.”
“I have three dead ex-wives, the last of which was kind enough to die and save me a definitely ugly, potentially expensive divorce. Has someone been cleaning up after me? Has someone been taking care of my ‘problems?’”
Jeb shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m going to have Tessa’s case re-evaluated. At this point, I have a hard time believing the fire was an accident.”
Tom shoved his way past Butch. “Shit. I’m getting Kate out of here. Screw your person of interest. Where is she?”
“On the phone,” Butch said. “Is that all right, Jeb? It rang, and she answered it. It was Cicada.”
Kate leaped off the porch, her feet landing on the ground before the screen door slapped shut. “Tom!” Kate screamed as she tore down the walkway. “Tom!”
The three men jumped in conditioned response to a panicked woman. Butch ran across the gravel drive and caught Kate as she flew across the yard. Kate pushed his arms away. “Don’t touch me. Not now. You can’t be nice to me.”
Butch held her around the waist. “What happened, Kate?”
Kate tried to spin out of Butch’s grip. “Chuck Allen called. He wants to cancel the contract. I need to meet him tomorrow in Chicago. Tom, you need to take care of the site—”
“Bullshit, Kate. Bullshit. This is our business, our project. I’m going with you.” Tom stormed across the driveway, challenging her orders.
Kate hung on Butch’s arms, shaking her head emphatically.
Tom shouted, losing the cool facade he maintained. “Don’t argue with me about this. Jeb has the site shut down, no one is working tomorrow. Waters can take care of things here.”
“Butch, let go of me. I need to think.” Kate pushed out of Butch’s arms and stalked around the yard.
Butch turned to Tom as Kate paced from him. “Could they really cancel the contract?”
“Cicada can cancel the contract at their convenience, which would mean Riley Architects and Engineers wouldn’t be able to make payroll, which would mean Riley Architects and Engineers would cease to exist, which would mean—”
“We go home,” Kate said, her eyes glassy with tears.
Butch grabbed her arms in an unbreakable grip. “Over my dead body.”
Chapter Fifteen
Butch dragged Kate behind as he stomped from the yard. The cold light of the moon lit the way, matching his mood. He moved quickly, not slowing when Kate slipped and shuffled on the gravel. She raked her fingers down Butch’s arm when she stumbled, catching on his waistband.
“Stop. Butch. What are you doing?”
“Taking you out behind the barn. It’s the place we take people around here when they’re being stupid.” They rounded the barn, and Butch swung Kate so her back came up hard against the rough wood. Something dominant pumped through his body, beating as if it had a pulse of its own. “You are being downright stupid if you think you’re going to walk away.”
Kate looked up at Butch, her voice cracking. “You don’t understand. I’m losing the contract of a lifetime. I’m losing my project. I’m losing my company. I’m going to Chicago to try to stop it. And if I can’
t…”
Butch’s hands cupped her face. Tears ran from her baby-doll-blue eyes, across his fingers. “And if you can’t, you’re just going to quit? I’m disappointed in you, Katie. I never thought you were a quitter.”
Kate thumped her hands against his chest. “I’m not quitting.” She pushed ineffectually at him. “I’m not quitting. I’m planning.”
“You’re planning to run. You talk a good game, but things get a little rough, and Little Katie goes running to Daddy.”
She pressed her lips firmly. Fire kindled and burned away the panic but created an opening for a coldness that worried Butch more. She stood stock still, her palms flat on his chest, and spoke slowly, distinctly enunciating each carefully selected word. “The last thing I want to do is go back to Detroit and listen to him tell me ‘I told you so’ for the next twenty years. But Detroit is our base. There we have a chance at surviving. Tom can—”
“Surviving isn’t the same as living. You deserve better than surviving.” Butch wrapped his arms around her, hoping to thaw that cold, calculating facade with body heat.
Her rigid body didn’t yield. “Butch.”
He felt her take a deep breath, as though she were preparing herself for something difficult. He told himself not to react, whatever she said.
Butch felt more than heard her reedy voice. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He didn’t know which “this” she meant. It didn’t matter. “You can. And won’t be doing it alone. Remember the first day we met? You helped me hang Granddad’s sign. What would have happened if I’d have done that alone?”
“You would have pulled something. Maybe broken your foot when you dropped the sign on it.”
“But together, we made everything right. I know, for myself, it’s easier to think that I’m better on my own. But it’s not true. Not for me. Not for you. You have me. You have Tom, Waters, Jeb, Hyde, Trudy, your family. Even your father. All of us are on your side. We’ll do what needs to be done, one day at a time.”
Silent for a moment, she slid her hands around his waist, as if letting him be the strength that held her up. “It’s not as scary when you put it that way.” She rose on her toes, brushing her lips against his. “Thank you.”
Wild strawberries filled his senses. His gut clenched. He hungered for her. He nipped at her lip until she opened. His fingers crawled up her stomach, gripped the edge of her shirt, and pulled it over her head.
The dim light made every creamy curve a hidden valley to explore. Lace the color of her hair cupped breasts high and firm. He bent down and took her nipple into his mouth, teasing the tender skin through the rough lace. Kate gasped, clutching at Butch’s shoulder, pulling at his hair.
Butch lifted his face, and she fell into him, locking her mouth to his. Butch brought himself to full height, bending Kate back into his arms while he devoured her. His desire for his woman intensified, driving him forward, forcing her to take a step to stay on her feet. He took a step and then another, into the darkened barn, across the open space. Butch spun her around, and she caught herself on a thick wooden ladder.
“Climb up,” Butch said.
“What are we doing?”
Butch ran his hands over the firm globes of her buttocks and urged her up the ladder. “Finishing what we started in the hay loft.”
“I’ve never been in a hay loft.”
Butch bit her earlobe, his hands guiding her in the direction he needed. She resisted, teasing him by arching her back, pushing her butt into the cradle of his hips. She ground against him until he panted in ragged breaths, then she raced up the ladder.
Butch tore up after her. At the top, he stripped off his shirt and laid it out on the wooden floor. Kate stood just out of his reach, running her hands up and down her body.
Butch pointed to the spot in front of him. “Come here.”
Half of Kate’s mouth curled into a devilish smile. “You. Come. Here.” Kate cupped her breasts in offering.
Butch took the bait and leaped over the splayed shirt. With a flick of his fingers, the bra fell away, and those delicious breasts were in his mouth. He attacked the waist of her jeans and stripped her of the denim and panties beneath. Kate kicked her way free and launched her own campaign, popping open the button on his jeans and sliding her hand inside.
Butch sucked air in sharply, releasing it in a low, guttural rumble. His hips thrust against the palm of her hand. She pushed the jeans down his hips until they fell into a pool at his ankles. Kate caressed him, stroked him as she sank to her knees.
He flexed his hands, needing something to do with them. He found the thick of her hair, and knotted them together. She wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon. The sight of her overpowered rational thought. Kate ran her tongue up the length of him, and all thought abandoned him. He leaned over her, blissfully helpless as she had her way. Her hair brushed against his overheated body, and his gut tightened. He forced himself to inhale, struggling for control. She knew he teetered on the edge, he was sure she knew. She toyed with him, driving him hard only to pull back at the last instant. She took him again to the precipice of ecstasy, her throaty laugh the last straw.
Butch rolled Kate to the floor and buried his body to the hilt. He raged against her on the hay-covered floor, shedding the guise of the smooth, graceful lover. Through the haze of lust, a thought came into his mind. This could be the last time he ever had her. She considered leaving him. She said it simply. Just run home.
Vexation gained a foothold. How could she? He had seen the light in her eyes. Warm. Radiant. All for him.
Butch locked his elbows and stared down in to her eyes. “Goddamn you. I’m your home. Tell me you know that.” He crushed his mouth to hers, thrusting relentlessly until she convulsed around him. In the moment of her surrender, he soared.
Sweat covered their heaving bodies. As sanity returned, Butch realized he had to be crushing her. He rolled until she laid sprawled across him, where she belonged.
Residual fear speared hotly. He slapped her ass. “If you think you’re leaving, you’re a goddamned idiot.”
Kate jumped at the swat, then snuggled closer. “Stop swearing at me. I’m not a goddamned idiot. I just have to think. I’ll figure something out.”
“Together.” Satisfied with the determination he heard, Butch stroked her back, starting at her butt and moving up the line of her back and down again. “As soon as I can get the feeling back below my waist, we’ll figure this out together.”
Kate paced the kitchen wearing the only pair of dress pants she had brought. She epitomized the successful professional in the black pants, white blouse, and black and white silk scarf. Beneath that controlled veneer buzzed a bundle of nerves that wore a rut in the kitchen floor.
Tom, by comparison, looked like he stepped off the set of The Godfather. The dark suit made his shoulders look as wide as a prize bull. Stern and menacing dark brown eyes didn’t blink. He leaned against the counter, saying nothing as Kate paced.
Butch walked into the kitchen on long, confident strides in faded jeans, his lucky shirt, and the boots Kate had bought for him.
Kate stopped at the top of route. “When did you say the car was going to be here?”
“I cancelled it,” Butch said. “I’m taking you myself. Let me pour a cup of coffee, and we’ll go.”
Tom silently asked Kate for an explanation, but she could only shrug her shoulders. As far as she knew, Butch had arranged a chartered plane into Chicago and a car service to and from the airport. Given the urgency, neither Kate nor Tom could argue with the amount of time they would save avoiding a commercial flight.
They rode to the county airport in silence. Kate mentally rehearsed her response to every argument. The hardest were the emotional ones, like believing the building would be cursed. She didn’t know Chuck Allen to be an emotional man, but there weren’t any rational reasons to pull the contract. Yes, she was a suspect. Kate fought hard to adopt Butch’s philosophy. She knew she didn’
t kill Fawn. Butch, Jeb, and Tom knew she didn’t do it, so she wasn’t going to worry about the investigation. She trusted Jeb to catch the bad guy, because that was what a sheriff did.
Butch parked the truck in the lot and led Kate and Tom into the small building that served as the terminal. Butch used the charter service often enough that he knew everyone, and quickly they moved to the plane. When Kate started up the portable staircase, Butch followed her.
Kate stopped and looked down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Going with you. Get on up there.”
“You can’t go with us.”
“Yes, I can.” Butch took her hand in his. “Now we can either stand here and argue for ten minutes and then get on the plane together, or we can hold hands and go now, saving us time and aggravation.”
The Cicada CEO worked out of an overcrowded office in a three-floor warehouse where everyone still knew everyone by sight. In the last fifteen years, the business had grown, thanks to quality-made machinery and a shrewd eye for finance packaging. The core of Cicada’s business had shifted, moving farther south and reaching across the border. The company had a reputation for innovative thinking and craftsmanship and wanted a headquarters that matched.
The young assistant escorted the trio through a hallway stacked shoulder high with banker’s boxes. A bark of laughter rolled out the conference room door as they approached. Kate held her head high as she led the parade inside.
Chuck Allen, a remarkably unremarkable man of average height with black hair, brown eyes, and a slender build, sat at a conference table as old as the company. What Chuck lacked in stature, he made up for in grit and nerve. “The Riley twins.” Chuck rose to greet them. Polite but without a sign of the humor that sounded moments before. “Tom, Kate. Thank you for coming.”
“Good to see you, Chuck.” Kate eyed the man who rose with Chuck, slick with a trendy haircut and a fast smile. Not big and thick like Tom, he stood a bit over six feet with broad shoulders and an athletic build, more like a cyclist than a weight lifter, and carried himself with an air of confidence. Highlights streaked his sandy-brown hair, and his hazel eyes dared her to trust him. Kate dropped her lashes, declining the invitation, and turned her attention back to Allen. “This is Butch McCormick—”
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