Ross pushed it open just wide enough to get through and stepped inside.
“You scared me half to death,” Gemma gasped. “What are you doing skulking around in my back yard?”
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he breathed, reaching for her. “I need your help.”
Chapter Eleven
Gemma let him pull her close, felt his arms tighten around her and inhaled his wonderful scent. She rested her head against the hard wall of his chest. How she’d missed feeling his arms around her, feeling safe and secure and ...
Wait a minute.
He’d dumped her for Katie Mack and here she was falling back into his arms at the drop of a hat. She wanted an explanation and she wanted it now. She took a step backwards and pulled out of his arms.
“Gemma?” Aunt Maisy stood in the doorway between the two rooms, her form silhouetted by light coming from the kitchen.
Gemma realized she hadn’t been as invisible as she imagined.
Both Ross and Gemma turned to face the older woman.
“Aunt Maisy this is Ross, um, Ross Ferguson,” Gemma said.
Her aunt came toward them in the darkness, resting her hands on the back of a chair. “Detective Ferguson? The one you told me about earlier?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ross said. “Can we please get away from this door?”
Gemma turned to check the door to make sure it was locked this time and the three of them went into the living room. A single lamp cast a warm glow throughout the room. The black cat remained on the back of the sofa, watching the newcomer closely with those big green eyes.
“Ross, this is my aunt. My mother’s sister, Maisy,” Gemma explained. “She’s staying with me for a while.”
Ross nodded. Even in the low lamp light, Gemma could see that his thick, dark hair was longer than usual. It looked like he’d been raking his hands through it, which told her right away he was worried about something. His eyes looked haunted and stubble darkened his chin.
“Please, tell me what’s going on,” Gemma said to him, touching his arm lightly to get his attention.
He hesitated.
“Why don’t I go make us some tea?” Aunt Maisy offered.
“Thank you, Aunt Maisy. That would be wonderful,” Gemma said with a thankful smile at her aunt.
Then she turned her attention to Ross. “What in the world is going on?”
“Gilmore is what’s going on. He’s got me dead in his sights and he’s not about to let go any time soon,” Ross said, pacing back and forth. He made the room seem small and Gemma had never seen him this agitated before.
“He thinks you killed Katie Mack?” Gemma asked.
“He is sure I killed Katie Mack. He has officers watching my house, following me everywhere I go. There’s probably a tracking device on my car and I’m not using my cell phone, just in case”
“How did you get here?” Gemma asked.
“I slipped out the back door of my apartment. Lost the officers following me. They need some training when it comes to following a suspect. This was the only place I could think of to go.” He paused and then began pacing again.
“How can I help?”
“Help me find out who killed Katie. Gilmore isn’t even looking at anyone else and I’ve been put on paid leave. If we can get our hands on some of the information Gilmore is keeping to himself...”
Gemma held up both hands. “Whoa, cowboy. You know I love a mystery as much as the next girl, but this is dangerous stuff. Besides, why should I want to help you? I mean you dumped me for Katie Mack, if I remember correctly.”
There, she’d said it, at least hinted at the fact that their breakup had done some damage.
Ross shook his head. “I had to stop seeing you because...because I was getting too close. And there was Nick and...”
“On that very same day, Nick decided he needed some space as well. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a very good day for me,” Gemma told him.
“I’m sorry,” Ross said, his eyes meeting hers. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Gemma’s emotions tumbled around inside of her. “Tell me about Katie,” she said, changing the subject.
“It started out as business. I was interested in buying a house. She was interested in showing me a house. That turned into several houses which ended up always being just around dinner time, which turned into what she was calling a date, which...” he stopped and shrugged.
Gemma kept her thoughts to herself. Yep, that was Katie, manipulative as all get out.
“She read more into it than I did. By the time I realized she was calling us a ‘couple’ and referring to me as her ‘boyfriend’, she had herself and everyone else believing that was the truth. Her mom was already calling me ‘son’.”
“Katie and her mom are...were a lot alike,” Gemma agreed.
“Katie began showing up at the station unexpectedly, like she was checking up on me or something. If I happened to be talking on the phone, she wanted to know who I was talking to. If I was speaking with a female officer, she wanted to know her name,” Ross continued.
“So, you set her straight?” Gemma asked.
Ross sighed and began pacing again. “I tried. A few nights ago, I took her out to dinner, planning to tell her in no uncertain terms I wasn’t interested in her for business or...or anything else. She is...was a bright woman. I was pretty sure that she just misunderstood my intentions, that when I explained myself, that would be the end of it.”
Gemma knew better, but she remained silent. Katie Mack ‘misunderstood’ on purpose.
“That turned into a very, very loud discussion, which ended up in the parking lot of the Chinese restaurant with a rather large audience, I’m afraid.”
“Katie could be pretty loud,” Gemma agreed, thinking about some other interactions she’d witnessed where Katie was involved.
“She thought I was dumping her because of you. Accused me, in no uncertain terms, of still having feelings for you,” Ross finished. “Threatened to kill herself. All sorts of ridiculous nonsense.”
Gemma held her breath.
“The one thing I was sure of was that I didn’t have feelings for Katie Mack and I told her so. Now, I’m fighting for my life here, Gemma. Gilmore...this kid. This college boy from Harrisonburg is going to ruin my career, maybe my life unless we find out who really killed Katie.”
The wail of a siren, low and far away, filled the room. Ross groaned and covered his face with both hands. Instinctively, Gemma reached for him, cradling his lean, tanned face in both hands. His stubble was rough against her palms, sending shivers of desire racing through her body. Their eyes met. He caught her fingers in his and kissed the tips tenderly. She’d never felt so connected to him, so sure he was telling her the truth, and she never wanted this moment to end.
Ross pressed her hands to his chest and opened his mouth to say something.
The high pitched shrieking ended abruptly and Gemma smiled. “It was just the tea kettle.”
A smile lit up Ross’s face. The first one Gemma had seen since he arrived.
“Tea kettle,” he said.
Gemma nodded, biting back her laughter, but it was useless. By the time Maisy showed up with a proper serving tray of teacups and saucers, they were giggling hysterically. She looked from one to the other, smiling, and finally placed the tray on the coffee table. With hands on her hips, she waited for an explanation. Gemma tried to explain what they were laughing about but every time she did the funnier it became.
At last, holding her sides, gasping for breath, Gemma explained that they both thought the tea kettle whistling was sirens. That sent them into gales of laughter with Aunt Maisy joining in this time.
When they had settled down somewhat, Aunt Maisy, still in charge of the tea service, poured steaming tea out of a delicate white pitcher into matching cups. Gemma hadn’t seen that tea service in years, had almost forgotten it existed. It brought back memories of her and her mother, sharing tea and stories.
; Maisy handed one cup to Ross and one to Gemma and then sat back, watching the two of them. “Drink up. The tea will soothe you,” she said.
Gemma held her cup up to her face. The steam felt good against her cheeks and she inhaled deeply, recognizing the aroma of chamomile and something else she couldn’t quite name. She glanced at Ross who looked like he was having a tea party with little girls. The cup in his hand looked small and even more delicate. She’d seen him drink plenty of coffee but never tea.
“It’s good,” Gemma assured her aunt. “Special blend?”
Aunt Maisy nodded.
Ross sipped the hot liquid carefully.
With a satisfied smile, Aunt Maisy stood up. “It’s late. I’ll leave you two alone and head off to bed,” she said.
“Aunt Maisy you don’t have to...”
“Sweet dreams,” her aunt said with a smile over her shoulder as she left the room, the cat trailing silently behind her.
Gemma kept her eyes on her cup. She didn’t want to be alone with Ross. Mixed up with all the hurt and questions and anger was a desire she hadn’t felt in a long time. Since the last time he’d kissed her. She wanted to feel his arms around her again and taste his kiss, but Katie and what had happened stood between them as if she was right there in the room, not in the county morgue.
“So will you help me find out who killed Katie?” Ross asked, cutting into her thoughts.
Gemma cleared her throat and placed her cup on the coffee table. It rattled only a little bit. “If we can get our hands on the evidence Gilmore has against you. Somehow find a way to use it to ferret out the real killer.”
“I have a couple of guys that I think will help me. We just can’t be seen together. I don’t want to jeopardize their position in the department,” Ross said.
“What if they talked to Nick?” Gemma asked.
“Good idea. At least it would be a plausible cover. Would he...? I mean are you still...?”
Gemma chuckled. “Nick and I have been friends since we were children. No matter what happens or has happened between us as adults, we’re still friends. I’ll call him.”
While she retrieved her phone from her purse and keyed in Nick’s number, Ross relaxed back into the sofa. He closed his eyes, appearing to be relaxing for the first time since he’d arrived. Maybe her aunt was right about the tea.
“Gemma,” Nick said.
“Yeah, hey, Nick, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” Gemma said.
“No, I was just putting the finishing touches on a story,” Nick said. “Remember last Valentine’s Day when...”
Gemma’s breath caught in her throat.
“I’m sorry. When cupid got killed at the resort?”
“Yes,” Gemma whispered and then regained her composure and her voice. “Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I’m thinking about writing a book about it,” Nick said, his voice filled with excitement.
“That’s a great idea,” Gemma said.
Nick went on to tell her about his ideas for the book and how he would change some things, including names. Finally he paused to take a breath.
“Nick, could I get you to do me a favor?”
“Sure, what do you need?” he asked.
“Could I get you to talk to some of the officers involved in the investigation of Katie’s murder? Find out what evidence Gilmore has gathered against Ross?” Gemma asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, I’ve been talking to the first two officers on the scene pretty regularly anyway. Gilmore has Ross in his sights and I don’t think he’s looking any further. They’re watching his apartment,” Nick warned her.
“Ross didn’t kill Katie Mack,” Gemma said, glancing at the big, dark haired man slumped on her sofa. His chest rose and fell evenly. She thought he must be simply exhausted.
“Tell you what. I’ll get as much additional information as I can, come by your house in the morning and lay it out for you,” Nick suggested.
“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” Gemma said. “Please be careful. I don’t want you to jeopardize your relationship with anyone.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Nick told her and ended the call.
Ross had slid sideways onto the sofa cushions. Gemma hurried upstairs, grabbed a pillow and blanket out of the hall closet and returned only to hear him snoring softly.
“Ross,” she whispered, placing the pillow under his head gently. “Ross, I brought you a pillow.”
“Um-hmmm,” he breathed and turned so that he was stretched out in a more comfortable position on the sofa.
Gemma covered him with the blanket, wishing she had something for him to sleep in besides his clothes.
“Gemma,” he said softly, reaching out to catch her wrist.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Thank you” he said, pulling her closer.
For a split second, Gemma imagined herself crawling onto the sofa beside him, curling up under than blanket and... Heat rushed through her, making her knees weak. Better yet, lead him up to her room.
“I knew I could count on you,” Ross muttered, the end of the sentence trailing off as he drifted back into sleep.
Gemma didn’t reply. Instead, she hurried back up to her room, quickly changed into shorts and a tank top and crawled into bed. Just knowing Ross was sleeping soundly on her sofa was enough to put a smile on her face...for now.
Chapter Twelve
Gemma awoke early and the first thing on her mind was Ross sleeping downstairs. If they didn’t find additional evidence and prove Ross’s innocence, Gilmore was going to make sure Ross was indicted for Katie’s murder. She crawled out of bed and tiptoed quietly across the wooden floor to the window, wondering why in the world Gilmore would want Ross out of the way. Jealousy?
As if thinking had made it so, Gilmore’s bright blue car cruised by slowly on the street and she wondered if he somehow knew Ross was at her house. Perhaps he was just expecting Ross to show up.
The car came to a halt, two houses down and Gilmore climbed out. She could see his lime green shirt before she saw anything else. He circled the car, again, as if checking for scratches and then she saw him pull a cloth out of his pocket and buff some imaginary speck off of the front fender.
It occurred to her that maybe he was watching her as well and she just hadn’t realized it before now. With that thought on her mind, she hurried down the stairs, her bare feet not making a sound on the stairs. Ross was just starting to stir. She raced past him toward the kitchen. The kitchen light was on and her Aunt Maisy was just getting the coffee started.
“Good morning,” Gemma whispered, giving her aunt a hug.
“Good morning, to you,” Aunt Maisy whispered back. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” Gemma told her. “That tea certainly did the trick.”
For some reason, her aunt seemed disappointed at that news. “Hmmm,” was all she said.
“I think our guest will be up soon,” Gemma told her.
“I hope he likes French toast,” Maisy replied, opening the refrigerator and retrieving eggs.
“Aunt Maisy, you don’t have to keep buying food and cooking like this...”
“Hush. Go set the table.” A smile softened her aunt’s words and Gemma scurried about setting the table for three.
“Do I smell coffee?” Ross’s deep voice rumbled through the kitchen, making Gemma’s breath catch in her throat.
“You do,” Aunt Maisy said, nodding toward the coffee pot.
“With bacon and French toast to follow,” Gemma told him, noting that his hair was even more tousled than when he had arrived the night before. His chin darkened with more stubble and she thought he was probably the most handsome man she’d ever seen right at that moment.
“Do I have time for a shower?”
“Absolutely,” Aunt Maisy said.
Gemma led Ross back through the living room to the guest bathroom. In the small bathroom, she pulled a fresh towel out of the linen closet and placed
it near the sink. “Sorry, but I think we only have girlie hair and bath products here,” Gemma told him.
He leaned against the door, arms across his chest, grinning. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
“True,” Gemma said, suddenly realizing she was trapped in the tiny space with him.
“I like your outfit,” he said. “Leaves so little to the imagination.”
At that point, Gemma remembered she was wearing the shorts and tank top she’d slept in. The shorts were too short to wear out in public and the thin fabric of the tank top hid very little. “Oops,” she said edging toward the door
Ross held his ground. “You know the cops are watching your house?”
Gemma nodded. The room was unbearably hot. “I saw one go by this morning.”
“Were they watching it before?”
Gemma shrugged. “I don’t know. If they were, I didn’t notice.”
“They might have realized they lost me and think you’ll lead them to me. Maybe I should get out of here.”
“No,” Gemma said, much too quickly. “I mean, after we get all the evidence they’ve collected from Nick, I’ll need you to help me interpret it.”
Ross chuckled and finally stepped aside, giving her just enough room to get past him. “I’ve seen your detective work, young lady. And you always manage to get yourself into a world of trouble.”
Gemma laughed and moved closer with the intent of leaving him alone. Just being close to him set her heart racing. He reached out to stop her and placed a finger under her chin. Gently, he tipped her head back and kissed her. His kiss was warm and tender, and Gemma felt herself wanting to melt against him, cling to those broad shoulders and let desire sweep her away.
“Sorry, I just had to do that,” he said, his voice husky.
Gemma watched him lick his lips like a hungry wolf and practically bolted from the room. Back upstairs she grabbed the first thing she came to, her bathrobe, and pulled it on. A quick glance out of the window told her the police car was sitting about two houses down. If they were watching her house or waiting for Ross to show up, they weren’t trying to keep it a secret.
Home Sweet Homicide: A Cozy Mystery (A Gemma Stone Murder Mystery Book 5) Page 7
