by Dawn Brown
He groaned and dug his fingers into her backside, pulling her forward and fitting his hips tight against hers. The friction sent tiny rockets of need bursting inside her. She moaned and arched forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her body flush with his.
She should stop this, but he felt so good.
But I guess that wouldn’t matter to someone like you. His angry words from earlier sounded in her ears. The furious accusation in his eyes while he listened to her interview with Robert flashed through her mind.
She turned her head and tore her mouth away from his.
“We can’t,” she said, her voice hoarse, her breath ragged. “My book. Your father.”
He nodded slowly, eased back, and stood, his expression inscrutable.
“I can’t do that with you.” No matter how badly she might want to. “Your family. My book.” Why couldn’t she stop babbling?
“You’re right, I know.” He raked his fingers through his hair. His chest rose and fell quickly. At least he looked as shaken as she felt.
With a deep breath, she started to stand.
“What are you doing?” he asked, frowning.
“I still need to call the police.”
“Stay where you are, off your foot. I’ll get your phone.”
“Thanks.”
Shayne watched as he bent and dug through her purse, unable to stop herself from admiring his lean, hard physique or imagining it without clothes. Good God, her reaction to him was insane. There was an undeniable chemistry between them, and it had her acting against her better judgment. After tonight, she would make a point of keeping her distance from him.
Of all of Dark Water’s finest who could have shown up, why did it have to be Avery? The man grated on Des’s last nerve. The cop strutted across the living room, his chest puffed out liked he’d hidden a pillow under his shirt.
“Two nights in a row, huh, Anderson? You must be doing something right,” Avery said when he spotted Des on the sofa. Des wanted to smack the knowing smirk off the cop’s face—though, after that kiss, the man wasn’t all that far off the mark—but Des had more to worry about than some dirty-minded cop’s innuendo or whatever there was between him and Shayne.
The memory of Tic’s voice, pumped full of malignant humor, made his heart pound. He flashed back to the night he’d found Tic with the waitress from Smitty’s. Her animal-like wails still rang in his ears. Her bloody face and the way her arm dangled after Tic had popped it from the socket still haunted him.
The woman had been too terrified to name Tic, claiming Des had been wrong, she didn’t know who her attacker was, but she was certain it wasn’t Tic. When the police pushed her for a name, she packed up and left town. No one had heard from her since.
Without her to back up Des’s story, he’d been left to twist in the wind. Not that he blamed her. Tic was a psychopath. God knew what the man was capable of.
And now he’d set his sights on Shayne?
Fear speared Des. He stood and wiped his damp palms on his jeans. Shayne looked over at him and rolled her eyes while Avery nodded and scribbled in his notebook.
Why had Tic homed in on her? Could he know she’d helped Des? If the man suspected Des had something going with her… Or could Tic have noticed her on his own, the same way he had with the waitress?
If tonight was all about the man’s predatory instinct, why not come in and make good on his threats? Why warn her to leave town?
The blood drained from Des’s head to his shoes in one quick rush.
Heddi.
…strong-arm tactics… I’ll take care of that.
Surely, she wouldn’t deal with a man like Tic? But the more he thought about it, the more plausible the scenario became.
“Did you see any of them, Anderson?” Avery’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.
“No,” he said.
Shayne folded her arms over her chest and glared at Avery.
“What about anything they were driving?” Avery asked.
Des shook his head.
“Did either of you recognize anyone’s voice?”
“After my run-in with Hudson last night, you might want to speak to him,” Shayne snapped.
Avery turned to Des. “You know Hudson pretty well, did you hear him out there?”
“No,” Des said. “I told you already, I didn’t recognize any of the voices.”
Shayne glared. “There was more than one man. At least, two others. And I had a strange encounter on my first day here with a man named Tic. Maybe he was involved.”
Des tensed. Fear wriggled low in his gut like a wet worm.
Avery glanced Des’s way before returning his attention to Shayne, and when he spoke next, a little of his bravado had slipped away. “Did he threaten you?”
She sighed. “No, he asked about my work.”
“Doesn’t exactly make him a likely suspect. There’s not much I can do for you with nothing to go on. I’ll file a report.”
“How helpful.” Shayne’s lips thinned into a tight line. Anger made her eyes glint like black glass.
“What would you like me to do?” Avery snapped.
“Oh, I don’t know. At least make a token effort to try and find the men who did this.”
Des snorted. “That’s asking an awful lot, Shayne. Wouldn’t want Avery to break a sweat or anything.”
Avery swung around, turning his bulldog glare on him, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned back to Shayne. “Let me give you some free advice, miss. There are some dangerous men in this town. You might want to think about that.”
He flipped his notebook closed and swaggered out the door. Shayne slammed it shut behind him.
“I hate that man,” she snarled, whirling back to Des. “You know, I have friends who are cops. Contacts from other books I’ve written. I ought to call them and see what I can do about making his life a living hell.”
Des knelt and started gathering the glass on the floor. “Wow. You’ve got a vindictive side.”
“I am not vindictive. I just have very strong feelings about right and wrong. And this good ol’ boy bullshit is starting to wear thin with me.” She sighed, turning her attention to the mess on the floor. “Forget it. I’ll get a garbage bag.”
“I’ll do it. You should get off your foot.”
“It’s fine, really.”
He didn’t argue with her. Together they cleaned up the glass and made a shoddy repair of the window by taping a large piece of cardboard over the hole. All the while, the air around them hummed with an invisible charge, like the air before a thunderstorm. The urge to pull her back to him, feel her moving against him while he lost himself in her touch and kiss appealed like nothing he’d known before, but giving in would be a mistake. Her book, Robert’s claims of innocence and Julia’s fragile mental state were all reason enough to keep his hands off Shayne. Heddi’s bringing Tic in to drive Shayne away was just an added bonus.
Hell, what a mess.
“Are you going to do what they said?” He stood back to admire their makeshift patch. Worry and indecision tightened his stomach into knots. “Will you leave town?”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Christ, Shayne, you’ve been threatened twice now in as many nights. Don’t you think you should start taking this seriously?”
“I am taking this seriously,” she said. “I’ll leave, as soon as I’ve completed my interviews and finished the research I came here to do. I have to write this book. I’m in too far to start all over again. I know you don’t want me writing about your family—”
“I don’t give a shit about the book right now. Write it, don’t. I don’t care. You and I both know my grandmother’s behind those men coming here tonight. What do you think will happen next when threats don’t work?”
“If you think Heddra Grey arranged for those men to come here, why didn’t you say something to Avery?” she demanded.
He threw his arms in the air. “B
ecause Avery knows! Why else would Hudson stop you last night? Heddi doesn’t want you writing this book, it’s no secret.”
“Look, I’m going to take precautions. I’ll probably move to a hotel, even if I have to take something in the neighboring town. Or maybe you could see about finding me something not so isolated to rent.”
He nodded, his mind spinning. He could tell her who had been outside, what the man was capable of, but she’d go to the police and the police would do nothing. Somehow, no matter what Tic pulled, he managed to avoid arrest. Of course, if the man worked for Heddi, that would explain a lot. Shayne’s going to the police about the man would only paint a bigger target on her.
Still, he needed to make sure Shayne stayed away from him. “That guy you ran into, Tic, he’s dangerous. If you see him again, get as far away from him as possible. And don’t ever let yourself be alone with him. Ever.”
“You know him?”
“Yeah, I know him.”
She looked at him for a long moment, and he tensed, certain she would insist he elaborate. Instead, she said, “Thank you for helping clean all this up.”
“You’re welcome. Let me stay tonight.”
She gave a short laugh, but it sounded tinny and false. Her smile looked strained. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea, do you?”
“I’ll sleep on your couch. Just for tonight.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Nothing will happen, I promise, and you’d be doing me a favor too. I haven’t slept, I’m exhausted. If I drove home, I’d probably wrap my car around a tree.”
“Fine. On the couch.” She turned and disappeared into her bedroom. When she returned, she was carrying a pillow and blanket. “Here.”
“Thanks.” He took the bedding and tucked it under his arm. As she started to turn away, he grabbed her hand and stopped her. Her fingers were cold and small in his palm.
“Des…”
“Aren’t you afraid?” he asked.
“Of course I am. But I can’t run away every time I’m afraid.” She eased her hand from his grip. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.”
She turned and walked into her room, shutting the door behind her.
He dropped onto the couch. Her fragrant scent—green tea body wash, he smirked—wafted to his nose from the bedding in his arms. His head filled with visions of slipping into bed beside her, running his hands over her smooth, slender body, touching her, easing inside her—
Sex wasn’t an option. He needed to focus on something else, like how to stop Tic. But even if he did somehow manage to get Tic locked up, he still had Heddi to contend with.
And nothing would stop her from getting what she wanted.
Chapter Nine
“Robert’s choice to leave his first wife for the married Gwendolyn Grey created a great deal of animosity within the community, especially from his eldest son, Sam. He despised the woman.”
—excerpt from Blood and Bone by Shayne Reynolds
Des stormed across the driveway, up the stone steps and pounded on his grandmother’s door. The sun beat down on him, the air thick and hot despite the early hour. Sticky sweat slicked his skin and his irritation amplified. He closed his hand into a fist and beat harder on the thick oak.
The door opened a half foot and Deirdre’s bulldog face filled the opening. “What do you want? She hasn’t asked for you.”
Des ignored the housekeeper, shoving the door open the rest of the way, striding past without a backward glance.
“Wait! You can’t—”
“Watch me,” he snapped as he strode down the hall. He glanced into the parlor, then the library. No sign of Heddi. He made his way deeper into the house to check her sunroom. If she was awake, that was where she’d be. Her refuge from the world where she was not to be disturbed. Well, he’d disturb her all right.
Deirdre made no attempt to follow him. Instead, she scurried to the kitchen. Probably going in search of Hudson to toss Des out of the house. In the mood he was in, despite still being stiff and bruised from his last beating, Hudson would have a fight on his hands if he tried.
Des stormed into Heddi’s sunroom and froze, shock stealing away some of his anger.
“Vivian.” Heddi’s dry voice pulled his attention from the peach and turquoise wallpaper to his grandmother on a rattan love seat surrounded by ugly floral cushions the same hideous colors as the walls.
“She did this? When?” His grandmother had added the sunroom to the original house years ago, and no one was allowed entrance without Heddi’s explicit permission.
“While I was in the hospital. I suspect she didn’t think I’d be leaving it, at least not upright. Now this room looks like the inside of a goddamned Florida nursing home.”
She wasn’t wrong.
No wonder his aunt had been on edge these days. She’d probably spent the last four months waiting for the proverbial ax to fall. There was little Heddi enjoyed more than a surprise attack.
“Mrs. Grey?” Hudson’s deep voice rumbled inside the small room and Des stiffened.
Heddi’s dark eyes filled with black humor and she smiled. “You may go, Hudson. I’ve been expecting Desmond.”
Without another word, Hudson left, heavy footfalls on the wood floor fading. Alone again, Heddi waved at the chair next to her. “Sit. I understand you had an eventful evening last night.”
The mere mention of Tic sent a fresh wave of fury rolling through him, and he fought to keep his expression bland, refusing to give the old hag a glimpse of the storm roiling inside him. He dropped onto the seat she’d indicated. The wicker creaked beneath his weight.
Heddi watched him with narrowed eyes. “What have you been doing with that woman?”
“What makes you think I’m doing anything with her?”
Her dark glare bore into him. “You’ve spent the past two nights with her.”
He didn’t bother to ask how she knew. Among Avery, Hudson and his landlady, Heddi had an entire network of spies to report on his every move. He shifted in his seat. The sunlight spilling through the glass walls turned the air stifling, despite the air-conditioning pumping from the vents.
He shrugged. “After such an eventful evening, I didn’t want her out there on her own. I stayed on her couch.”
“How noble.” Her bony fingers curled around the arms of the chair. She leaned forward until her face was inches from his. Her sour breath stunk of illness. Of death. “But what were you doing with her at all?”
“I was filling her in on everything I could remember from that night,” he sneered.
Heddi jerked back as if he’d slapped her, fear glinting in her black eyes. “You did what?”
It was probably mean to torment the terminally ill, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass. “I was two years old when it happened. I don’t remember anything from that night.”
She glared darkly. “Not funny. Now tell me what you were doing there?”
“I was telling her to stay away from me and to forget Julia altogether.”
“Of course, your sweet sister.” Heddi cackled. He turned his gaze to the window and the deep green lawn spilling down to the water’s edge.
“Since the writer hasn’t yet abandoned the house, I assume last night’s incident wasn’t enough to frighten her off.”
Dread tightened his stomach. “No. Tic and his boys put on a hell of a performance, but she doesn’t scare easily.”
Heddi frowned. “Avery told me you didn’t recognize any voices.”
“I’ve got enough problems with Tic, I don’t need more.”
“Not so noble now, are we?” Her face lit with vicious delight.
Des gritted his teeth, but didn’t speak.
“Why have you come? Have you changed your mind about my offer?”
He dipped his head in an abrupt nod. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“I need you to keep an eye on her, tell me whom she’s seen and what she’s learned.”
“And if I do this, I
don’t have to pay back the money.”
“Of course,” she told him.
“I’ll want something in writing.”
“If you think you need it.”
“Oh, I do.”
“I’ll arrange for the paperwork today. You’ll have it first thing tomorrow morning.”
He nodded again, his stomach churning sickly. Why couldn’t he shake the feeling he was selling his soul? “Call off Tic. No strong-arm tactics or I won’t do it.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
An image of Shayne with Tic flashed through his head, making his insides quiver. “He’s a psychopath. Even you would have a hard time controlling him.”
“How do you suggest I drive her away?”
“I’ll provide you with the names of her sources. You can pay them off to keep them from talking to her.”
She cackled, the sound going through him like tinfoil on a filling. “You do have a devious side. Your way will be expensive.”
“It’s this way, or I won’t do it.”
“Are you in any position to be giving ultimatums?”
“My way, or I. Don’t. Do. It.”
She smiled her creepy, toothy grin, but her eyes glinted dangerously. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. But if you even think of crossing me, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.”
“Leave a message. I’ll get back to you.”
Shayne sighed and pressed the End button on her phone as Anderson’s terse voice-mail instructions slipped into the beep. No point in leaving another message. He hadn’t bothered returning any of the others. She flipped her cell closed and nipped at the corner of her lip.
Why wasn’t the man phoning her back? He’d wanted her to call him. He couldn’t know she didn’t buy into his I’m innocent claim, or she wanted to ask him about the possibility of his late wife’s being involved with another man. Where was he?
She glanced at the clock on the dash of her car. Five to one. She didn’t have time to worry about him now. She’d try again later.
She hit a button next to the radio and the convertible roof started to close. A low hum filled her ears as the canvas slowly stretched overhead, blotting out the brilliant midafternoon sun.
