Somewhere in Texas

by Eve Gaddy

  “Men should stick together,” Cam said.

  “Sorry. She’s a lot prettier than you are. Besides, I sleep with her.” He leaned over and kissed her smugly smiling mouth.

  “How old is Delilah?” Gail asked. “Last question, I swear,” she said when he frowned at her.

  Not if he knew his sister. “Twenty-five.”

  She looked at her husband and smiled. “Jay’s younger than me and we get along fine. You know, Cam, it wouldn’t be a crime if you were interested.”

  “I’m not,” he said, and tried to mean it.

  IT WAS CLOSING TIME before Delilah had a chance to talk to Martha again. “Do you know of any apartments for rent?” Delilah asked her. “Or even a room would do. It just needs to be cheap.”

  Martha laughed. “Oh, honey, there are slim pickings in this town. The only apartment complex near Aransas City is full up and overpriced to boot. You best stay here and be glad you’ve got a place to park yourself.”

  As soon as everyone left, Delilah rounded on Cameron. “Why didn’t you tell me there wasn’t any place to rent here? I told you I was going to look for another place and you didn’t say a word.”

  He glanced at her, then went back to totaling receipts. “What difference does it make? Don’t forget, I looked in your wallet. You can’t afford another place anyway. I told you, you can stay here.”

  I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry again. The words haunted her. What if she’d never gone out with Avery? Never listened to his smooth lies? Fallen for those practiced moves? For damn sure she wouldn’t be in the fix she was in now.

  “That’s it. I’m out of here.” She ripped off her apron and threw it at Cam. “Keep my pay. It should cover the room and board for the last two nights.”

  He stared at her and frowned. “Don’t be stupid, Delilah. It’s eleven o’clock on a rainy Sunday night and you’ve got twenty bucks and no place to stay. Except right here.”

  No place to go. No one who cares. You’re alone…alone…I’m all you have…All you’ll ever have… You’re mine…You can’t survive without me…You’ll never leave me.

  Sweat popped out on her forehead. Her stomach roiled, her throat closed up. Dizziness hit her like a sledgehammer. The words jumbled and a roaring sounded in her ears.

  The next thing she knew, Cam had pushed her into a chair and shoved her head down between her knees. Dimly, she heard him curse and leave her. Seconds later, he came back with a paper bag. Gratefully, she snatched it from him and breathed into it, head still between her knees.

  Slowly, she gained control and the dizziness left. She knew she was overreacting. Big time. But she couldn’t help it. Cam’s words had triggered her worst fears. Nightmare visions that were all the more horrifying because they were real, not imagined.

  Cam had crouched down beside the chair and was studying her, his expression troubled. “Better?”

  She sat up straighter and nodded shakily. “Yeah. Sorry I flipped out.”

  “You want to tell me why you freaked?”

  “I can’t.” She wanted to, but she was afraid. Afraid he wasn’t as good as he seemed. Afraid her story would sound crazy. No one would believe a well-respected attorney was the cruel monster she knew him to be.

  Cam stood, pulled up a chair to sit in front of her. “Look, Delilah, it’s obvious you’re scared to death about something. You don’t believe you can tell me. You don’t know me and have no reason to trust me. But you need to tell someone, and I think it should be the cops.”

  She gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “I can’t go to the cops.” Why bother? It would be pointless, given Avery’s connections.

  “Then try me.”

  His eyes were unusual, a clear, dark gray fringed with black lashes. Beautiful eyes, which she suspected he knew. According to everything she’d heard, Cameron Randolph liked women, and they liked him right back. She could see why. He was very appealing. She found herself falling into the sincerity of those eyes.

  She pulled herself up in a hurry. What was she thinking? She couldn’t trust anyone, couldn’t depend on anyone other than herself.

  He put his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. “Were you raped? Is that what you’re afraid to tell anyone?”

  Her eyes teared up as she shook her head. “It’s not that simple.” She could hear Avery, telling her she owed him her obedience. Obedience, for God’s sake, as if she were a dog and he her master. She remembered his smile and his promise to teach her respect, as he had his first wife.

  His first wife. Oh, God, don’t think about that. She would lose it if she thought about what he’d done to that poor woman. What she suspected he’d done, she reminded herself. She had no proof, just a journal from a dead woman and a gut feeling she had to get out as soon as possible.

  “Did he try, and you stopped him?”

  “I can’t talk about it. I ran away, all right? I got out.”

  “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

  “He didn’t rape me,” she said flatly.

  He looked doubtful. “He hurt you. Don’t forget, I saw the bruises. You can still press charges.”

  No she couldn’t. The Houston cops wouldn’t believe her. Avery would see to that. And even if she tried, and went to them… No, it was too risky. “No.”

  “Damn it, Delilah, you can’t let the scum get away with this. I’ll take you to the police station myself.”

  “No!” She grabbed his arm, her fingers tightening on it. “I can’t go to the police.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because when I ran away—” It was crazy to trust him, insane to let this man she barely knew in on her secret. But she couldn’t run anymore. And she had to trust someone.

  “Just tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

  “Yes, it can.” She raised her eyes to his and blurted it out. “I think I killed him.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  FOR A LONG MOMENT, Cameron simply stared at her. “You killed him?” Of any number of things he’d expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them.

  “Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know!” She sprang out of her chair and started pacing. “I shouldn’t have told you. I can’t believe I did. I’ve got to get out of here.” She dashed out of the room.

  He followed her up to the apartment. By the time he got there, she’d grabbed her backpack and was halfway to the door. He crossed his arms and stood in the doorway, blocking her way. No way would he let her leave now. There had to be more to the story than this bald admission of murder.

  “Don’t even think about leaving. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.”

  She walked to the door, looking as if she wanted to shove him aside. “Get out of the way.” He didn’t move, or speak. “I told you, I might have killed a man. You could be harboring a murderer. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  She looked so young, and so desperately earnest. Whatever had happened, he’d bet his restaurant she was no cold-blooded murderer. He took her arm and pulled her back into the room. “Sit down. I’m going to get you a drink and then you can tell me what happened. Exactly what happened.”

  The fight drained out of her. “You’re crazy,” she said, but she sat on the couch.

  He got out a couple of glasses, figuring he needed fortification, too. “Bourbon okay?”

  “I don’t care.”

  He brought the glasses and the bottle and set them on the coffee table, taking a seat beside her. She took her drink and knocked back the liquor with a quick twist of her wrist. He raised his eyebrows, then followed suit. He reached for the bottle and poured some more into her glass.

  She picked it up but paused before she drank. “I’m not a lush,” she said.

  He didn’t speak, just waited for her to begin.

  Cupping the glass, she sat staring at it as she spoke. “The man I was…involved with wasn’t the person I thought he was. I stayed with him, tried to make it work, but he just kept getting more possess
ive and controlling. Finally, after—” She looked at him, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I knew I had to leave him.” She took another sip of bourbon, her fingers tightening on the clear glass.

  She spoke slowly, with obvious effort. “He was angry. Furious. I’d never seen him like that. He started hitting me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if gathering strength to finish the story. “He clocked me. Slugged me right on the jaw and I went out like a light. When I woke up he had locked me in a bedroom on the second floor.”

  “Son of a bitch! He locked you in?”

  She nodded. “He had an alarm system on the window, so I couldn’t have left that way without him knowing. He said he wouldn’t let me out until I could ‘be reasonable.’” She looked at Cam with no expression. “That’s what he said. Be reasonable. I was supposed to be reasonable about him beating the hell out of me.”

  Cam wished he had just a moment alone with the bastard. He’d show him what it felt like to be beaten. But he didn’t say anything, just waited for Delilah to continue.

  “He kept me there for several days.” Shuddering, she took a sip, then started again. “He brought me food, but after I passed out a couple of times I realized it was drugged. So I stopped eating. There was a bathroom attached to the bedroom, so I was able to have water.”

  Cam swore. “Then what happened?”

  “He was careless, since he thought I was out of it. So when I saw my chance, I tried to get away. We fought again and I made it to the stairs but he caught up with me. He choked me. He said he should kill me for what I’d done. I kneed him and he dropped his hands for a minute and I—I pushed him down the stairs.”

  “Are you sure he’s dead?”

  Her eyes widened. “It was the back staircase. Steep and narrow. I thought he was dead. He was so still.”

  “But you didn’t check.”

  “No, I grabbed my backpack and ran like hell. If he wasn’t dead I didn’t want to hang around to find out.”

  Okay, something concrete they could focus on. He set his glass down. “There’s no sense blaming yourself for something that might never have happened. The first thing you need to do is find out if he’s still alive.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Call him. That’s the easiest way.”

  “No.” She shook her head decisively. “If he’s alive he could trace the call. I don’t want him to have any way of finding me.”

  “You really think he’s having the incoming calls traced? That seems kind of excessive.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, well, he’s an excessive kind of guy. I wouldn’t put anything past him. You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  Obviously, she wouldn’t budge on this one, no matter what he thought about it. “Okay, no phone calls. We can go to the Internet. Check the papers and the obituaries. The restaurant’s closed tomorrow and I’ve got some things to do, but we should have plenty of time to check it out.” She didn’t speak and he added, “If you want me to help, you’ll have to tell me the guy’s name.”

  “I don’t want to involve you any more than I already have. It’s not fair to you.” She set her glass down, then stood to pace the room, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

  Somehow, he didn’t think that was her main reason for refusing. “This guy really did a number on you. I can see why you wouldn’t trust men easily. But you trusted me enough to tell me you might have killed him, don’t you think you can trust me with his name?”

  She shot him a worried glance. “There’s more to the story than I’ve told you.”

  “Yeah, I already figured that out.” They were both silent while he watched her pace. “So, Delilah, are you going to trust me or not?”

  She stopped pacing and looked at him. “What happens if I don’t?”

  He shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.”

  “You won’t—kick me out?”

  “No. Why would I? It’s your business, even if I think you’re making things harder than they have to be, it’s still your decision.” As for harboring a murderer, she might have killed him accidentally but Cam didn’t believe for a moment she’d murdered the scum.

  She looked stunned, prompting him to ask, “You haven’t had many breaks lately, have you?”

  She laughed. “Not good ones, anyway.” Her eyes met his and she smiled. “Until I broke into your place.”

  Oh, man, he was getting in deep when a simple smile zapped him. Maybe he just missed looking out for his sisters. Since they’d gotten married, they didn’t need him to worry about them anymore. And Delilah clearly needed someone to look out for her. Except he didn’t think about her like a sister. No way, no how.

  She took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you his name. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  He was conscious of a pang of disappointment that she wouldn’t trust him. But she didn’t know him, after all. He might not like it, but he could understand it.

  She was watching him with an anxious look on her face. “Okay, if you won’t, you won’t. Sit down, Delilah. You look like you’re about to keel over.”

  “Sorry. That liquor hit me harder than I’d thought it would.” She sat and put her head in her hands. “I don’t feel so good.”

  He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, which surprised him. He hadn’t felt that way about a woman in a long time. But his protective feelings didn’t worry him. They were as natural to him as breathing. No, the other things he was thinking about were what worried him. He was entirely too aware of her as a woman, rather than a kid who needed a break.

  But she wasn’t a kid, and that was the problem. “You need to eat. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  A short while later he came back with a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and a glass of milk. She laughed when he set it in front of her. “Milk?”

  “Drink it, it’s good for you. You sure as hell don’t need any more booze.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  He said no more as she ate, thinking about what he could do about her problem.

  “That hit the spot. Thanks,” she said and got up to take the dishes to the kitchen.

  He followed her. “You could check it out yourself on the Internet. I can let you use the computer. But why don’t you wait until morning? You’re wiped out.”

  She stared at him a long moment. “You’re too good to be true.”

  He smiled. “It’s not a big deal, Delilah. I wish you’d trust me, but if you can’t…” He shrugged. “Anyway, one more night won’t make any difference. You’re still sick. Get some rest.”

  She looked exhausted, but he wasn’t surprised when she stayed where she was.

  “All right,” she said reluctantly. She still didn’t leave. “What if he’s dead? What do I do then?”

  He was afraid if he answered, she might bolt. But he wouldn’t lie to her. “Then you go to the police.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I was afraid you’d say that. You realize they’ll toss me in jail and throw away the key. They’ll charge me with murder.”

  “No, they won’t.” He didn’t like her expression. Despair didn’t sit easily on her. He crossed the room to her and took hold of her arms, but gently. “Delilah, if he’s dead, then it was an accident. And you did it in self-defense.”

  She looked into his eyes, her own dark blue, troubled, and deep as the ocean. “You believe me, but what if the police don’t?”

  “He beat you. He choked you. He kept you a prisoner, for God’s sake. Why wouldn’t they believe it when you’ve got the bruises to prove it? Besides, you’ll hire a lawyer if you need to.” He dropped his hands and started to turn away.

  “Public defender. No money, remember? And I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard horror stories about overworked public defenders.”

  “You’re dreaming up worst-case scenarios about something that might not even be an issue. Try not to worry.” Which was a stupid thing to say. Of course
she’d worry. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. There was only one way either of them would get any sleep.

  “Okay, forget that. Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Where do you think?” he asked irritably. “It’s obvious you won’t sleep until you know, so we’re going to my office. That’s where my computer is.”

  She touched his arm. “Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything.” He shrugged it aside and she said, “I mean it. I don’t know why you took me in, or gave me a job, or why you’re being so nice, but I appreciate it more than I can say.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yes it is. It’s a very big deal, to me.”

  He shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “I don’t want your gratitude.”

  “No? What do you want, Cam?”

  “Not what you’re thinking,” he said harshly. Which was a big, fat lie and he had a feeling she knew it as well as he did. “I’m not hitting on you,” he added, just in case she needed that point clarified.

  She smiled. “I know. Rachel told me you didn’t hit on your employees.”

  “That’s right.” A good rule, a necessary rule. And one he’d never before wished he could break. Until he’d hired Delilah. Without even trying, she was turning everything upside down and sideways. “All I want is for you to do your job. Now, go look this up. You need to get some sleep tonight.”

  SHE WAS TIRED. So tired. But she had to know for sure. Cam led her to his office and left her with the computer, saying he’d be back later. He didn’t make a big deal of it, but she had an idea he didn’t like leaving her alone in his office. Which didn’t surprise her. After all, he didn’t know her any better than she knew him. He’d already trusted her more than she deserved, but he would be stupid not to protect his restaurant. And if she knew one thing, she knew he wasn’t stupid.

  She started with the obituaries. Nothing. The tightness, the fear, began to ease the longer she searched and found nothing. While she looked, she wondered again why Cam was helping her. He’d made it clear there weren’t any strings attached, either. And she believed him.