Kira shrugged her shoulders.
“So you won’t reject a mere tea bag instead of the traditional teapot and loose-leaf brewing method?”
She shook her head again, more than a little surprised at his interest in anything unrelated to coffee. “Are you implying I’m some kind of snob?”
“Well, you don’t like coffee and you hate my favorite color.”
She laughed then, adjusting herself on the chair with added flourish. “And how long have you had this unhealthy attachment to orange?”
“Since I was a kid and my first baseball team was the Giants. We had orange shirts and it’s stuck with me ever since.”
“I see. Bet you’re a Broncos fan, too.” She was surprised Dalton was willing to move beyond questioning her.
“Of course. Gotta root for the home team.”
By this time he’d collected two mugs, spoons and honey, lining them up on the counter as he waited for the kettle to whistle.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
“Red.”
“Red is a power color, you know.” He smiled across the counter at her. “That’s why Santa wears it.” Dalton winked.
“Really? I did not know that.”
“It’s in the Buckshot’s logo because the ad agency said a splash of red would cement our brand. I’m a little surprised you’ve never heard of us.”
“I don’t drink coffee.”
“Yeah, you’ve said so about a dozen times. But didn’t you ever see a billboard with our logo? A Super Bowl commercial?”
“I don’t remember any billboards, and I hardly ever watch football.”
The teakettle whistled and he turned the burner off before filling both their mugs with the steaming water. “Can I add anything to yours?”
“Plain is good for me.”
“Let’s move out to the living room and find you a more comfortable chair.” He returned the kettle to the stove and then picked up both mugs. He headed through the doorway and on to the far side of the room, near the fireplace and a giant TV.
Kira sat a moment longer and then stood, stretching the knot from her shoulder. The stress from the past thirty-six hours had her wishing for a magic wand. For now she’d settle for a hot cup of tea, a cozy blanket and the man in the next room.
What did he want? He hadn’t made any demands. She knew he was curious, but he hadn’t pushed her to reveal anything after telling her Tate had her flash drive.
Kira dropped onto the couch, yanked a blanket up to her waist and reached for the cup of tea on the coffee table.
Dalton turned the television on and scrolled through a few channels. “It’d be nice to get a clear picture without climbing on the roof and adjusting the satellite dish.” His comments quickly turned to a stream of four-letter words and suggestions for satellite providers to shove things in truly inappropriate areas.
“Now who’s got the potty mouth?”
He glared at her over his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”
True. But it was amusing to watch his patience evaporate. She sipped her tea and mentally cataloged the broad shoulders in the ugly shirt and the first-class butt her fingers were itching to touch. Now she wanted to touch him? After she’d blown a perfectly good opportunity in the kitchen?
“One decent channel. Am I asking too much?” Dalton glanced at her for confirmation.
“Are you pouting?” she asked.
“No, I’m not pouting. I’m frustrated the TV isn’t working and we have no idea how long this storm is going to last.”
“You’re definitely pouting.”
“Drink your tea.”
Kira dropped her gaze to the cup in her lap and lazily circled the rim with one finger. She decided some quiet muttering to herself wouldn’t hurt anyone, so took a sip of the ginger peach tea and switched her rambling to Italian. She’d worked in a pizza place during college where the owner was notorious for berating the staff. Besides receiving some nice tips, she’d learned a few ways to say idiot in Italian and Portuguese.
“Idiota.”
“I don’t believe it.” Dalton’s voice interrupted her mumbled recitation of classic Italian.
“I’m not talking about you,” she lied, lifting her innocent eyes to his. Only he wasn’t looking at her. His attention was glued to the television, where he’d successfully located one clear channel.
Kira squinted at the image on the screen. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She slammed her cup on the table and stumbled to Dalton’s side as the blanket tangled around her feet. “What are they saying?”
“Give me a second.” He punched a few buttons on the remote and the speakers behind her boomed in response.
“The suspect is seen here in a 2012 DMV photo, and in this convenience store footage from yesterday.”
The only thing missing was a bowl of popcorn. The reporters had somehow managed to splice together the images of her removing the Buckshot’s sweatshirt and then her lip-lock with Dalton, so it resembled a low-budget porn flick. The camera didn’t do him justice. He was much sexier in person.
“Investigators have learned Mrs. Kincaid is also believed to have siphoned millions of dollars from her employer, Midwest Mutual Insurance, out of Kansas City, Missouri,” the announcer reported.
“We are fully cooperating with the FBI’s investigation and have surrendered all of Mrs. Kincaid’s files for review.” Her weasel-nosed boss, Evan Daniels, garnered his own fifteen seconds of fame.
“I don’t think he likes you,” Dalton commented.
“He was never my biggest fan,” Kira admitted. Her being arrested at Midwest Mutual during Friday’s taco buffet probably hadn’t helped.
“Are these the same charges you were talking about earlier?” Dalton squeezed her shoulder and she leaned into his touch.
“Okay, yes, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. They’re calling me a criminal on national television.” Kira had nothing left to lose. Things had been so publicized in the press she already felt at a disadvantage.
“Then, when all this is over, we’ll hire the best publicity firm in the country to restore your squeaky-clean reputation.”
Kira bit her tongue to keep from objecting. She shouldn’t be happy that Dalton felt responsible for her, right? It had been so long since she’d depended on anyone else. The warmth spreading through her chest was proof of nothing.
Damn. She would definitely lose her job and probably spend years in prison. Of course he was making light of the situation, trying to make her think all the damage could be undone with the wave of a hand. But the next image on the screen guaranteed it couldn’t.
She knew the exact second Dalton realized it. His hand dropped from her shoulder and he took a step closer to the TV.
“I’ll be damned.”
“Mrs. Kincaid was previously married to Joshua Kincaid Matthews, pictured in this wedding photo taken in 2011. The two never officially divorced. Matthews was killed in a fiery car crash near Denver in August of this year. An anonymous tip to Crime Stoppers has investigators working to reopen the accidental-death case and link it to Mrs. Kincaid. Local police are attempting to connect evidence from the scene to DNA taken from the suspect’s home.”
This could not be happening. “They took pictures from my apartment and rummaged through my things. They think I killed Josh.” Kira dropped to the floor as numbness crept through her limbs.
The wedding picture shrank to a box in the corner of the screen and a reporter from News Channel 9 was shown in the beam of several spotlights.
“You’ll see a few live embers remain, but not much else, at the home of Dalton Matthews, Buckshot’s Coffee CEO. An explosion destroyed the home, and reportedly, the authorities located one body within the debris. Although Mr. Ma
tthews has managed to avoid the limelight for months, I’m sure you’ll all remember the tragic loss of Lauren Lee, his wife, and pop music’s brightest star. As you can see from the crime scene tape behind me, this investigation is currently under way, and we have Sheriff Lyle Watkins to give us an update.”
“Your house is gone?” Kira asked. “Do you think that thug set a fire or something?”
Dalton shushed her.
“Thank you, Natalie. I want to assure the viewers of Benton County that there is no need to panic. This is an isolated incidence of arson, perpetrated, we believe, by the suspect you have shown. Additionally, this would be classified as a black-widow crime. If the evidence we have gathered remains consistent, we can reasonably assume this case is linked to the death of Joshua Matthews in August. Authorities in Missouri are working to verify that he was legally married to Kira Kincaid. As the widow, she stands to inherit a 10 percent share in Buckshot’s Coffee. Those shares would sell for upward of ten million dollars, and to me, it sounds like strong motivation for murder.”
They think I murdered him? As much as she’d wanted Josh to suffer, Kira had never really wanted him dead. Hadn’t even known he was dead.
“As soon as an autopsy is performed on the body inside, we expect to confirm the identity.”
“Sheriff, can you predict with any accuracy if the body is indeed Dalton Matthews?” the reporter asked.
“I’m not much for speculation, Natalie, but my twenty-seven years in law enforcement and the mounting evidence we’ve collected is very telling. Your savvy viewers can draw their own conclusions.”
“Yeah, right, that’s all speculation,” Kira said to the television.
“Thank you, Sheriff. We’ll keep you apprised of changes in the scope of the investigation. As earlier reported, Kira Kincaid is armed and dangerous. Anyone with information about her whereabouts is asked to call 800-CRIMETIP or 911.”
Dalton muted the television and turned to stare at her. “If they found a body, it’s got to be the guy I left cuffed to the tub.”
“Maybe it was an accident,” Kira said.
“Yeah, right. I seem to be an accident magnet.” He tapped the remote against his palm. “Tell me why your last name isn’t Matthews.”
“My last name isn’t Matthews because when I knew your brother, his name was Joshua Kincaid.”
Dalton yanked her off the floor. “Did you have any involvement in Josh’s death?”
“Yes, if wishing him dead counted as involvement.”
Dalton stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “What did you do to my brother?”
“I prayed he’d suffer half as much pain as I did.”
“If you hated him so much, why’d you marry him in the first place?”
“I married for love. I married because I wanted a future with your brother. But most of all, I married him because I was pregnant.”
Chapter 12
Kira watched Dalton’s anger dip to annoyance, then denial, then shock. Neither of them spoke a word. The seconds turned into a minute, then two, while Dalton processed her confession.
“Josh has a child?”
She nodded, uncertain if she’d be able to explain the circumstances, now that she’d blurted a fact few people knew.
“Boy or girl?”
“A son, Brandon.”
Dalton sighed. “You’re saying my brother walked away from his responsibility to his child? Where is he? Why did you leave him?”
“No, I’m saying he walked away from his responsibility to me. To our marriage.”
“You lost me.” Dalton stared down at her. “Wasn’t he paying child support?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like? You’re not making any sense.”
Her trembling fingers rose to cover her mouth. Kira couldn’t cry, but she didn’t know how to keep the tears at bay. Emotion clogged her throat as she stood mutely in front of him.
“Tell me.” The request was tempered with empathy, the same kind she’d emitted at the cemetery when she’d realized he’d lost someone close to him.
“Our son was stillborn.” Oh, sweet heaven, she hadn’t allowed herself to say it out loud before. Ever. Her vision narrowed as her mind replayed the moment Josh had told her the news. She hugged herself, trying to keep the grief from enveloping her. “I lost them. I lost them both.”
Dalton pulled her close and she collapsed against him. Somehow they ended up on the couch, her face pressed against his neck as years of pain overwhelmed her. The words were a scattered mixture of daily prayers for another chance and devastating acceptance of the unfairness of life. Kira cried until her eyes burned and her lungs ached. She cried until there were no more tears left and Dalton’s shirt was soaked.
Her sobs turned to hiccups and he held her tightly. He rolled to his back and pulled her on top of him, then covered them with a blanket. His fingers slid through her hair as he pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I’d known Lauren since we were kids.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Tate and I used to run wild in the neighborhood from sunup to well past dark.”
Kira could picture a miniature Dalton, with an angelic face and innocent brown eyes filled with mischief.
“Lauren was always the baby, you know? Tagging along and trying to copy every stupid prank we pulled. And we couldn’t leave her out, because then she’d tell her mom and get us all grounded for a month.”
The smile in Dalton’s voice told Kira they’d probably deserved every ounce of punishment they’d been dealt.
“She was a kid when we headed off to the Coast Guard, but she’d grown up a lot by the time we were out and I went to college. She used to sing the national anthem before all the baseball games, so everyone in town knew she had the talent to break into music. She said she never had the desire.”
“Dalton, you don’t have to do this.”
* * *
“I can’t remember a time when Lauren wasn’t a part of my life.” He’d be lying if he said Kira didn’t remind him of Lauren. Her bright nail polish and petite stature were two things he could name. But where Kira was daring and sometimes bold, Lauren had been reserved and anxious.
“She never expected the fame.”
No one expected the fame.
“‘Left Alone’ was a fluke, until she performed it at the Colorado State Fair. And suddenly, there was no turning back. She couldn’t refuse the recording contract. She’d composed that song the night of her senior prom, when Joey McCracken stood her up.”
“I remember that song.”
“Along with millions of fans. Who could have guessed her words would resonate with teenage girls all over the globe?” It gave Dalton chills to recall the arenas packed with screaming fans. “Once things got rolling, there was no stepping in front of that speeding train.”
“She had an amazing voice,” Kira agreed.
“Everyone played a role in keeping Lauren safe. Tate had extensive training from his time in the Guard, so for a while he became her chief of security. Her mother traveled with her to every location, waiting in the wings while she performed, offering all the support she sensed Lauren needed.”
“She was very lucky to be surrounded by people who obviously loved her.”
Dalton nodded. “Then the letters started. We shrugged them off. What big-name stars didn’t get their share of nutty fan mail?”
“I’m sure a lot of celebrities deal with the same thing.”
“But then the creep switched to email, breaking into Lauren’s account and posting her private thoughts to the public domain.” Dalton reached for one of Kira’s hands and intertwined their fingers.
“She was crushed. If I hadn’t benefited from the stunt, I would’ve been
first in line to drag the man to justice. But the emails were about me.” A smile tugged at Dalton’s lips. “She had a crush on me for a while and questioned what it would take to get my attention.”
“Those were very personal feelings to have posted for the world to read. She must have been mortified.” Kira shook her head. “I would have been.”
“She was, at first. And then when everything died down, I called to clear the air. We talked and then made plans for dinner.” He smiled again. “It was simple. We had a lot in common, so there was already a foundation in place, something for us to build on.
“I had just taken over for my father as CEO for Buckshot’s Coffee, and she was trying to balance her singing career with family time. Somehow we made it work.
“Six months later we were engaged. Another six months and we were married.” Dalton’s thoughts slipped to their wedding day. Lauren had been just as excited about having an outdoor wedding as she was to win the Grammy for Best New Artist. “She would have given it all up to stay at home and start a family. But touring and promoting were part of the music business, and she had to finish out her contract.”
“Plenty of pressure,” Kira murmured. “Did she regret recording the first song?”
“I don’t think she regretted it, exactly. But family was a big part of Lauren’s life and she lost the freedom to see everyone whenever she wanted.” Dalton frowned. “She never wanted the music world to be her life.”
“How long were you married?”
“Three years.”
There was a moment of silence between them before Kira shifted so she could see his face. “I’m sorry, Dalton. I know how tough it is to lose someone you love.”
“I should have seen the writing on the wall and stopped the tour. But Lauren was always worried about the crew being out of work and suffering because of her decisions. She didn’t need all the responsibility.”
Dalton released a huge sigh. “She came to me at Christmas and said she was ready to quit. Why didn’t I listen to what she’d really been saying? She was telling me—point-blank—that she was finished with life. I should have done something.”
Protecting His Brother's Bride Page 14
