The Runaway Bride

by Adrianne Lee

  “Like me?” Izzy’s green eyes opened as wide as a mountain meadow. “Are you saying it was Payton? That’s impossible. He’s in New York on business.”

  “Besides,” Travis added, “Cullen has black hair. Payton’s blond. Why isn’t this woman under a doctor’s care?”

  “She’s much worse than Kim told me.” Izzy set her drink down on the coffee table, oblivious to the water ring forming even as she withdrew her delicate hand and wiped it on her green slacks.

  “I told you two to shut up and I meant it.” Jake started to rise, intending to toss these uninvited guests out on their collective butts. “I won’t have you confusing her.”

  “No one’s confusing me,” Ruthanne protested, pulling him back into his seat. “I know exactly what the man looked like.”

  “Then tell us,” Travis insisted.

  She took another drink. “Tell you what?”

  “Dear God.” Travis sighed disgustedly.

  Jake blew out a frustrated breath. He’d dealt with his mother’s memory lapses too often this past year. And every time he felt the same impotent rage at its unfairness. But he knew she might have already told them all she could. Knew they might never learn if Laura’s pursuer had visited her at the senior complex today. He jammed his hand through his hair again, inadvertently gazing at the duo across from him.

  Izzy and Travis wore twin expressions of disgust. Travis mumbled, “Next thing you know she’ll say her visitor looked like Laura.”

  “Laura?” Ruthanne twisted around and glared at Laura. “He didn’t look like her.”

  Jake offered Laura an apologetic smile. He hated that his mother’s attitude was hurting her, but he knew she understood his quest to find out who was behind Ruthanne’s disappearing act. And right now, her hostility toward Laura was the only sign that Ruthanne clung to some shred of reality.

  He squeezed her hand, deciding to give it one more shot. Laura’s life depended on it. Hell, maybe his own and Ruthanne’s did, too. “Mom, take a deep breath and imagine that you’re seeing the man again—as you saw him earlier today.”

  “Oh, sort of like the association game Doc Van Sheets uses. I like that game.” Ruthanne closed her eyes and scrunched her face.

  Jake kept his voice monotone. “Imagine you’re at the craft and bake sale again. Do you see it?”

  “Yes…all the lovely items for sale…all the people. Like a big party.”

  “Yes, yes, concentrate on the people…visiting with one another…with you…someone familiar approaches…a man. Picture him again in your mind. Can you see him?”

  “Yes…I think so.”

  “Okay. Good. Can you describe him?”

  She opened her eyes and gave a groan. “Oh, the image vanished.”

  “Don’t fret, Mom.” Jake stuffed his disappointment and frustration and tried a different tack. “Maybe you can still remember. How about his hair color? Or was he bald? Tall? Short? Medium? Fat? Thin?”

  “Good grief,” Travis muttered, tossing back the last of his drink.

  “J.J., is this really important?” Ruthanne laughed self-consciously. “Of course not. Anyway, there were just so many people at the craft fair…I—”

  She broke off. “Wait, I do recall something. He was from Riverdell. Guess that’s why it’s so strange that I can’t remember his name. Because I used to know it. Oh, well.”

  She snapped her fingers again, dismissing the whole subject.

  With that, Jake knew he ought to give it up, but he couldn’t resist one more question. “Did he tell you to come here?”

  “Oh, no, dear. I don’t think so. I wanted to bring you the donuts…while they were still fresh.”

  That much he conceded could be true. She could have gotten it into her head to bring him the donuts and even called a taxi. Hell, she might even have remembered his address. But there was one thing that could not be explained by sudden recall, because he didn’t keep any hidden keys outdoors. “Mom, how did you get into the house?”

  “Why, the door was open. I thought surely you were home with the door open.”

  A car horn sounded outside.

  “Damn it, that’s our taxi.” Izzy lurched to her feet, bristling with annoyance. “And Travis didn’t get to ask any of his questions.”

  “I’d say it worked out the way Jake and Laura planned.” Hostility seeped from Travis like a bitter fog as he set his glass on the table beside Izzy’s and stood. He poked a finger in the air separating himself from Jake. “But don’t think this is over.”

  Jake was still trying to process the fact that his door wasn’t locked when his mother arrived at the house. He waved a dismissive hand at Travis. “I fear you’re right, Crocker. There’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

  Travis froze. “You do know something about Cullen. For God’s sake tell me.”

  “If I learn anything that you don’t already know, I’ll get in touch with you.”

  Travis stepped toe to toe with Jake, the difference in their sizes apparently no longer concerning him in his fury. “Oh, don’t worry. You haven’t seen the last of me. I’ll be back.”

  Jake straightened to his full height, squaring his shoulders. He didn’t blame Travis for worrying about his brother—he even understood his anger—but he’d had all he was going to take of his insolence. “I’m not the enemy here. So back off and get out of my house. We’ll talk again when we’re both in better moods. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw shock capture Laura’s face. She froze, her glass halfway to her mouth. Damn, he’d promised her they’d leave for Riverdell immediately. It was the first promise he’d ever made her that he’d have to break. He wasn’t going anywhere until he’d moved his mom out of Sunshine Vista Estates and had her ensconced here.

  “We’re going,” Travis grumbled, leading Izzy toward the foyer. “But we will be back.”

  “You gonna be here, too, Laura?” Izzy asked as they came alongside the bar.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice hoarse with emotion.

  Izzy eyed her with cruel speculation. “Travis and I deserve to know whatever you can tell us about Cullen.”

  “I’ve told you all I know.”

  One of Izzy’s blond brows lifted. “And I think you’re holding out on us. If you change your mind, we’re staying at the Days Inn on Main Street.”

  Jake watched the blood drain out of Laura’s face, and he figured she was thinking the same thing he was. It seemed mighty coincidental that these two people were staying at the same motel where Sunny Devlin’s car had been blown up.

  He wondered anew whether they were sincerely looking for Cullen, or if they had come to see him only to get a bead on Laura. Just how long had they been alone with his mother? Had she told them anything about Laura’s missing face cream? And if she had, why had they insisted on sticking around to confront Laura about Cullen?

  Because the best offense is a good defense?

  As Jake followed them to the foyer, Ruthanne caught up with him and tugged his sleeve. “J.J., aren’t you going to make Laura leave, too?”

  Jake’s gaze locked with Laura’s and he offered her a silent apology, a look that said they would talk as soon as they were alone.

  But Laura understood better than he realized.

  She’d spent the last twelve months relying on herself, surviving by her wits, by any means at hand. In the past two days, she’d selfishly involved Jake, reveled in the sharing of her fears, begun to count on his help in her search for the missing evidence, in her quest to unmask a murderer.

  But she’d thrust him into a dangerous game and placed Ruthanne’s life on the line, as well.

  She finished her drink and slipped off the stool. Now he couldn’t go with her to Riverdell. Ruthanne had to come first. But the journey couldn’t be postponed. Laura cringed at the thought of returning alone. But fear wouldn’t stop her. She’d get the key to the storage unit from Kim and search
for The Venus Masque herself. Even though it might be the last thing she ever did.

  The need to move swept through her. Laura gathered the drink glasses off the coffee table. Noting the faint stains left by Travis’s and Izzy’s glasses, she wiped the sleek oak surface with a dish towel, again and again. The cloth left flecks of fiber, but all her scrubbing didn’t diminish the ugly circular blots.

  Why had they been so careless? It was almost as if they’d wanted to deface his furniture, pay him back in some spiteful way for his reticence about Cullen. She could see where they’d resent her—if they truly thought she’d run off with Cullen last year and was keeping his whereabouts secret.

  But what had Jake ever done to either of them? Until today, he’d treated them both with deference and friendship. But all bets flew out the window when his mom vanished. Not even their death-defying plunge down the bluff that morning had scared Jake the way Ruthanne’s disappearance had.

  His relief at finding her here, unharmed and under suspicious circumstances, reduced the cordial manner he reserved for company to plain old-fashioned rudeness.

  Any sympathy he might feel for the Crocker family counted for nil. Ruthanne came first. She suspected Travis would put his own mother above any concern Jake might have if circumstances were reversed. Especially when a killer was on their tail.

  And he was near. She could almost smell him. She hugged herself as Jake and Ruthanne strode toward her. The old urgency prickled her skin like a heat rash, and Laura knew she would have to leave here. First thing in the morning.

  Before someone else died.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jake hated sleeping on his office sofa. It was too short, too narrow and too hard. Only the view offered pleasure—stars that looked close enough to grasp. But he could no more grasp them than he could silence the uneasiness that crowded his thoughts.

  Ten minutes after Travis and Izzy left, he’d finally convinced his mother that Laura wouldn’t break his heart all over again. But would she? What if he acted on his need for her? Gave in to the ache he struggled with even now?

  Damn, he wanted her.

  Her image filled his mind, teased his senses, throbbed through his veins. And he knew what scared him. He wanted more than sex—he wanted Laura. He wanted to feel her, to inhale her scent, to touch her hair, to press his flesh to hers, to bury himself inside her. He wanted her secrets, her dreams. He wanted to know if they matched his own…the way they used to. He wanted her to want him.

  And he wasn’t sure she did.

  He socked his pillow and rolled over. His feet shot out of the covers. Oh, she needed him—to help find the evidence and end the hell she’d been living. But any ally would suit her purposes. As much as he’d like to think she’d chosen him because she’d never stopped loving him, the truth was, she’d sent his mother that face cream. What quicker way to find it than through him?

  He swore, shifted around once more and landed on the floor with a loud thump. His long legs tangled in the blanket and sheet Cursing, he struggled out of the bedding and stood. Although, he’d made the noise of a clumsy burglar, neither his mother nor Laura emerged from his bedroom to investigate.

  He bunched the covers onto the sofa, flipped on a light, then blinked as his eyes adjusted. He took a long melancholy look around his office. Tomorrow, he’d dismantle it. Tomorrow, he’d see about getting it renovated into a suite for his mother. Ruthanne living here would require a real adjustment—he thought, tugging jeans on over his otherwise naked body—but he wouldn’t put her back in a private facility until he exhausted all other avenues.

  Until her illness left him no other choice.

  The fear that that day would arrive too quickly sent him heading to the kitchen for a shot of whiskey. He decided to check the locks once more on the way. He padded down the hall and into the foyer, where he quickly tested the door. Finding nothing amiss, he moved toward the kitchen, and froze.

  Laura stood near the family room window, her shape outlined by the gentle moonlight swathing her. His heart caught at the sight of her, and his loins tightened even before he realized she wore only his T-shirt again. It stopped midthigh on her long, slender, creamy-looking legs. His mouth watered. His throat closed. His need grew.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked in a voice too full of desire.

  She wheeled around slowly, as though she’d been expecting him. “Your mother snores.”

  He grinned. “Dad complained about the same thing.”

  Their gazes met and held for ten heartbeats. Then Laura’s eyes slid from his face. “Still sleep in the nude, huh?”

  He frowned. He’d put on his jeans. But as his hand collided with his fly, he realized he hadn’t bothered with the buttons. Grinning sheepishly, he fastened the middle one. “Guess Mom will be the end of that. I’ve decided to move her in here.”

  “Yes, I think that might be best…for now.” They both knew it was a temporary solution, but she was glad for Ruthanne. “When I grow old, I want a son like you.”

  “Just like me?” He hadn’t meant to ask that and hated himself for spilling his guts like a fool.

  Oh, yes, Jake, Laura thought, exactly like you—half a dozen babies, just like you. But she wouldn’t say that to him. It would raise his hopes, both their hopes. And she realized now how cruel that would be. If he believed in her again, in them again, and something happened to her before she unmasked the killer, Jake would feel that she’d abandoned him. For a second time. She could spare him that. She would spare him that. “A son just like you would eat me out of house and home. Are you hungry? Want me to fix you something?”

  She started past him, but he gripped her arm. “I came out here for a shot of whiskey—to help me sleep. But I think this would do the trick better.”

  He pulled her against him, simultaneously lowering his mouth to hers. Although her mind screamed “Don’t do it,” her body melded to his as though it had once been part of him, fitting perfectly curve for curve, plane for plane, lip for lip. The stars she’d been studying moments ago seemed to have crawled inside her head. They swayed; they danced; they burst in bright sparklers, spraying across her awareness, scorching her resolve like so many twinkling illusions, burning her from the inside out.

  She gave in to the shower of desire raining through her, and her arms climbed his naked chest, circled his strong neck, her hands twining his thick hair. She felt starved, her body as bereft of love as another’s might be of food.

  He pulled back, but not away, gazing down at her with desire-glazed eyes. His breath came short and fast. He cupped her face in both hands, groaned her name. Then deepened the kiss. Her heart swelled and her hunger bloomed, seeping hot and moist through her.

  His big hands grazed her back, the touch known, welcomed, missed. Little sighs of pleasure floated from her again and again. Then his hands were under the cloth, pressed to her flesh, exploring, renewing, awakening.

  He ground his hips to hers, and she lifted one leg around his thigh as she massaged his naked back. Her fingers found their way to his waistband, and despite her promise not to hurt him again, she knew she couldn’t stop the inevitable finish of this encounter.

  Nor did she want to.

  “J.J., what are you…?” Ruthanne’s voice rang out as the light flared on. Her sharp, indrawn breath sounded a second quicker than Jake and Laura could leap apart.

  Laura’s face burned with embarrassment at being caught like teenagers.

  “Mom.” Jake’s voice was hoarse.

  Ruthanne’s expression held outrage. “I thought you said Laura wasn’t here as your girlfriend? But the moment I turn my back you’re sucking out her tonsils.”

  “I, we—” Jake bit his cheeks, obviously trying not to laugh. He strode to his mother, caught her gently by the shoulders and moved her back toward the hall. “It’s okay.”

  “No. It’s not. You’re falling for her again. Mark my words, JJ., once burned, twice learned. She’ll only hurt you.”

&n
bsp; It was so much what Laura feared she would do she blanched. If even Ruthanne, in her confused state, knew that Laura could hurt Jake, then Laura would have to stop all future sexual encounters before they started. No matter what it took. She felt suddenly numb, her spirits battered by Ruthanne’s hostility and her soul empty without Jake’s love.

  Ruthanne couldn’t help her attitude. But a killer was responsible for Laura’s broken heart.

  Jake returned a few minutes later. She could see he was ready to pick up where they’d left off. In truth, so was she. But she determined not to let him see that. “I think we’d better settle for whiskey as a nightcap.”

  “Mom won’t get up again.” He reached for her.

  She sidestepped him, shaking her head. “Just the same, I’d rather not risk it.”

  “Okay.” Hurt flitted through his eyes so swiftly she couldn’t swear she’d seen it. He moved to the cupboard and took down the half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels, then set two glasses on the counter beside it. “One or two fingers?”

  Her gaze dropped to his hands, to his strong, tapered fingers. She’d rather have them on her, in her, than measuring the height of whiskey in a jelly glass. “One.”

  She slipped back onto the bar stool and he joined her, sitting two stools away as though he needed the distance. His jeans, she noticed, were buttoned properly now. She reached for her drink; the glass was cool against her palm, the liquid hot going down. “Did you speak with Hector tonight?”

  “Yes.” His expression was grim. “Someone messed with the brakes.”

  The tiny sip of whiskey she’d taken landed in her stomach like a dollop of acid and she shuddered. She’d known in her heart that whoever was pursuing her was responsible for the failed brakes. But having it confirmed, somehow made it even more horrifying. “How did he or she manage to sabotage your Cherokee? By breaking in here?”

  “As soon as the sun is up, you and I are going to figure that out. Then I’ll beef up my security.”

  She tossed back the last of her drink, wincing at its bite. She had to get away from Jake before she succumbed to his magnetic draw and threw away all her resolves to save him from herself. “First thing in the morning, then.”