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Erotic Deception

Page 4

by Karen Cote'


  Then without giving her an opportunity to respond he picked up the item he’d placed on a shelf and went to the register to pay for it. He was opening the door to get into his truck when Lily threw open the door of the convenience store.

  “What do you have against me?” she demanded striding toward him.

  He shot her a telling glance, not stating the obvious, which infuriated her more.

  “This isn’t all to do with what happened today, Sheriff,” she said through clenched teeth. “Your rudeness is inexcusable. Aren’t you supposed to be a little more professional, being an officer of the law and all?”

  “Professional?” He glared at her. “I just saved your ass for the second time in one day and you accuse me of not being professional?”

  She ignored his question and demanded, “What is it you don’t like about me, Sheriff? Do I remind you of someone? An ex-girlfriend, perhaps?”

  It was then that Lily realized how close she was to him. When his gaze skimmed down and touched her mouth, a feathery pulse tickled through her chest. He looked at her through smoldering eyes and allowed a gradual smile to appear, but its mockery contained no trace of humor.

  “What’s the matter, Dr. Delaney? Bored already? Looking for a distraction? Maybe I interrupted something in there you didn’t want me to. If that’s the case then let me be the first to apologize. However, if it’s a diversion you’re looking for, I’d happily take you up on that, but unfortunately, I’m a little tired tonight.”

  He tossed the grocery bag into the truck before climbing in. He faced her once more, nodding his head toward her car.

  “Driving with only one headlight is against the law in Windom Hills, ma’am, but I’ll let you go this time.” He cocked a brow. “How’s that for professionalism?”

  Lily was still searching for a stinging reply as he drove away.

  What just happened? How dare he? She stomped a sandal against the paved parking lot. Damn it! Of all the frustrating, egotistical, infuriating men, why did she always end up feeling like a brainless tart around him?

  It would serve him right if she didn’t show up tomorrow. The consequences would almost be worth shattering his inflated, puffed-up self-confidence.

  Then her bravado popped and the weight of the world slid around her neck, pulling her head down.

  He was the only light in her future at this point. Why wasn’t she trying to butter him up or at least attempting to get on his good side? She hadn’t even asked about his injuries. With a frustrated growl, she stormed over to her car and almost forgot why she’d driven to the store in the first place.

  She gritted her teeth and headed back toward the door.

  Murder, mysterious sign-postings, maniacal threats and, albeit justified, a very mad man in a uniform.

  My life sucks!

  Chapter Three

  Lily viciously stretched the sheet and shoved it under the mattress.

  “Driving with only one headlight is against the law in Windom Hills. ma’am, but I’ll let you go this time,” she mimicked and grabbed for the blankets. “Walking around with one brain cell should be against the law too, but it obviously hasn’t stopped some people.”

  Lily straightened in disgust and stretched her back, glancing toward the now darkened windows. There were multiple panes from floor to ceiling, wall to wall and not a single one graced with an ounce of window-covering. Her shoulders braced against an involuntary shudder.

  Darkness hid the magnificent view of the lake lapping along the small backyard. Now the mirrored reflection only afforded uncomfortable exposure. A rather large lake surrounded the back of the house with a wooded area to the left of her tennis-court-sized yard. Practically anyone could be out there right now and she wouldn’t know it.

  “Man-up, Lily,” she scoffed aside her paranoia.

  Anthony was the only one she needed to fear and regardless of the sheriff’s faults, she believed his promise not to file that report just yet.

  In fact, the only crime committed right now was in the modernization of the master bedroom. Why would anyone spoil a historical landmark? Thankfully, the rest of the home had preserved its original blueprint, including that window against the far wall.

  Not having noticed it before, Lily walked over to investigate. The old-fashioned frosted glass had an antique-bronzed frame and hinges. It also appeared to open from the other side. Curiosity propelled her into the hallway and she followed the glow illuminating from the adjoining master bedroom window. She flipped on the light. Another bathroom?

  With raised brows, she left the light on and returned to the bedroom. Obviously, the master bedroom had been an add-on to the original home and for some reason the window had been left intact. Why would they do that?

  She slapped a hand over her mouth, giggling. Although frosted, the window provided a clear silhouette of the toilet; and the risk of distinctive view of someone doing their business. Amazed, she giggled again. Hopefully the window wouldn’t be opened for ventilation. The visual was bad enough.

  Had Jerry noticed the faux-pas? The humor, albeit a relief from the harrowing past few weeks, faded away. No matter how much she wished Jerry was here, she might as well face it. He was gone, period. Nothing could bring him back. The coincidence of the home’s lot number was only a reminder of that fact.

  With that mood-killer, Lily went downstairs one more time to make sure she’d locked all the doors. Dim lighting cast spooky shadows along the narrow stairway and she was relieved to reach the bottom. She visibly started when a reflection greeted her in the glass panel of the front door.

  “I’m an idiot,” she said, recognizing herself. She glanced back up the stairs. How creepy. The stairs were on display for anyone outside to view the occupants inside without awareness whatsoever.

  Shivering, she scurried by the door and walked through the main living area into a small kitchen and charming sitting room. Switching on the light, she checked the French doors lining the back wall and grimaced once again at her reflection in the glass. View or no view, this house was in dire need of some privacy.

  Turning to leave, her peripheral vision caught a flash from the outside. She cupped her hands against the glass and waited for it again. Nothing. Shaking off the eerie feeling, she returned upstairs.

  Lily turned out the light and was getting into bed when an illumination projected from outside. Her heart pounded against her chest as she cautiously crossed to the tall windows. What appeared as a flashlight moved back and forth over the ground. She crouched down to get a better view. Just like that, it disappeared.

  Blinking, she looked again but the light had vanished. She stayed by the window until her legs began to cramp, but the backyard remained dark. She made her way to the bed.

  Okay. So there had to be an excuse for whatever it was, right? It’d been too big for fire-flies. Hunters? What would they hunt? Maybe she should call the police. She grabbed for the disposable phone she’d purchased yesterday and then paused. Who would answer if she called? The sheriff?

  She sighed. Maybe she’d imagined it. Given the circumstances and the events of the day, it was possible. In disgust, she placed the phone back on the night stand.

  The next day still groggy from lack of sleep, Lily pulled into the parking lot of the Sheriff’s Department. She had dressed in readiness for the hot day, but the pink cotton tank top and white skirt was no match for the humidity.

  Ascending the short flight of stairs, Lily opened the door to the red-bricked building and the blast of cold air was a welcomed relief. A blonde haired woman seated at a desk looked up in inquiry at her entrance. Lily smiled and crossed the gray carpet toward her.

  “Hi. My name is Lily Delaney and I was involved in an accident with the sheriff yesterday.”

  “An accident?”

  Lily’s brows puckered. That didn’t sound too friendly.

  She cautiously kept her tone cordial. “Yes, I was driving—”

  “I know,” the woman cut her off.
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  Ooh-kay. Lily crushed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and pasted on a smile.

  “Good. Then I don’t have to explain.”

  Bright blue eyes narrowed and the thin mouth tightened. “He’s expecting you. Down the hall, first door on the right,” she said and dismissed Lily for the papers on the desk.

  Turning away, Lily muttered under her breath at the rudeness. As there was only one hallway, no other clarification was necessary. As she drew near the large metal door, irritation turned to anxiety. Forget about the initial greeting. It was the next meeting that was crucial to her stay here.

  With a confidence she didn’t feel, she walked to the open doorway only to find the black chair behind the grey desk empty. A movement next to the file cabinets drew her attention.

  Striking, blue eyes, more magnetic than the woman’s in the office, stared at her from across the room.

  “Dr. Delaney.”

  “Sherriff,” she returned.

  A glance skirted over her attire before he nodded toward a swivel chair in front of the desk.

  “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Lily complied, once again pulled in by his magnetism. She noted however, that far from overestimating his attraction, she’d understated it a little. Okay, a lot. And in a fresh uniform and smooth, dark hair brushed away from his tanned forehead, she’d give him professional. All right. And sexy, but that’s all.

  It didn’t help that her seated position put her in close proximity to where he was standing. She was also at eye-level with the duty belt strapped low on his lean hips. Lily tried occupying her attention elsewhere, but it kept straying back to the hard, muscled thighs, and upward. Surely, that outlined imprint wasn’t all him was it?

  The slamming of the file cabinet made her jump and she swung her chair forward. The exaggerated movement almost catapulted her in the opposite direction and she grasped at the front of the desk to check the swing. With cheeks on fire, she knew he couldn’t have missed her clumsiness. On the other hand, she prayed he hadn’t noticed her inappropriate preoccupation.

  Other than a suspicious twitch of his mouth, nothing showed in the sharp edges of his face or the hawk-like gaze when he sat across from her.

  To eliminate the gauche-schoolgirl feeling, Lily cleared her throat and gestured toward the white gauze around his left hand.

  “I didn’t ask about your injuries last night. I take it you went to the hospital?”

  His nod of acknowledgment was followed by a simple, “Yes.”

  “Did you need stitches?” Lily asked, undaunted by the lack of encouragement.

  “Four.” was all he said.

  “I’m sorry.” With no response forthcoming, she tried another tactic. “What about your leg?”

  He studied her between thick, dark lashes. “Instead of talking about my health, why don’t we discuss your brother’s overdose?”

  Whoosh! It felt like shards of glass splintered into her heart and Lily’s gaze fell to her lap. Breathing through the pain, she looked up with a twisted smile. “I guess I was wrong about your detective skills.”

  “Public knowledge isn’t skill-driven.”

  “I suppose not,” she responded and hated the quiver in her voice. Then holding his gaze, she tilted her chin. “I’ll bet the fact he was murdered isn’t public knowledge.”

  Lily expected surprise or disbelief. What she didn’t expect was what he said next.

  “Why don’t you explain the reason why you believe your ex-fiancé killed your brother?”

  And the shocks kept coming.

  She’d barely digested his question when he confessed, “I was with the Kansas City P.D. for five years. I still have friends.”

  What? Numbing blankness tilted the room and Lily blinked. Instinctively, she darted a panicked sweep around her. She pushed her chair back and rose, nervously brushing her ponytail away from her shoulder.

  “If you’ll guide me on what I need to do for the accident yesterday. Filling out paperwork, paying a fine, whatever. I can be on my way.”

  “Sit down, Dr. Delaney.”

  “I understand there may be legal ramifications, which of course I’ll take care of. Maybe if you could—”

  “Sit down,” he ordered again, this time more firm.

  In defeat, Lily obeyed and sank against the support of the chair. She focused on a jade paperweight in the middle of the desk and spoke in a tone similar in heaviness.

  “Who did you speak to?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not relevant.”

  Bitter bile crept up her neck. “No? What about your promise not to report the accident yet? Is that relevant?”

  “I haven’t filed my report.”

  Raw laughter spilled from her lips. “No, you did something better than that. You made a person-to-person announcement on where I was. Or did your friends think you were asking about someone you’d met in the Bahamas?”

  Her scathing tone had as much impact on him as water on rocks.

  “My sources are discreet, Doctor, but I’m sure you won’t believe that. However, since your current circumstances have thrown the power of the ball into my court, why don’t you indulge me by answering my question?”

  “Power,” she disparaged. “I just love how that word gets thrown around. I suppose next you’ll tell me you’re only trying to help me?”

  “I do have the responsibility to protect those who come into my jurisdiction. And make no mistake, Dr. Delaney, you are in my jurisdiction. But in order to feel the conviction needed to do my job, I need the truth.”

  Tears rushed to her eyes and Lily fought to keep them at bay.

  “Protect me?” she asked through a watery smile. “Anthony’s got a lot of resources. If he knows I’m here, I doubt even you could help me, even if you wanted to.”

  He reached behind him and produced a box of tissues, handing her one.

  “Thanks for the confidence,” the sheriff said dryly.

  The gentleness of his action along with his statement was a surprise. Was he trying to put her at ease? He waited until she’d wiped away the moisture before continuing.

  “Why don’t you give me the benefit of the doubt and assume your whereabouts are secure, at least from my resources.”

  Lily searched his face. Could she trust him? It wasn’t as if she had many choices at the moment. After all, delaying the report and bending the ear of someone who’d listen had been her goal today. Maybe he’d even believe her. On the other hand, maybe he was as corrupt as Anthony.

  This last thought gave her pause before solidifying her decision. Regardless of all that had happened since the accident yesterday, there was nothing to suggest he was a bad man. In fact, except for the sarcasm and his initial, obvious disbelief about her, she had to admit he’d behaved better than most given the same set of circumstances.

  “Have I passed your test yet?”

  His question pulled her out of her deep thoughts and she grimaced.

  “What are my other choices?” she asked flatly, then mentally closed the door on her fears and plunged ahead. “To give a brief background, my brother Jerry ran a facility to aid people, mostly teens, with drug addictions. In case I didn’t mention it, I have a doctorate in psychology and I volunteered at the center counseling the various traumas affiliated with such problematic life-styles. I also provided moral support in cases when appearing before a judge was necessary.”

  “Is that how you met Anthony Capriccio?” he broke in.

  She nodded. “Yes. In most instances, I was able to speak on the kid’s behalf and testify to the treatment I’d been providing in hopes to lessen the penalty the DA was trying to enforce. At first, Anthony resisted my involvement to help them. He wanted to prosecute, end of story, and send them off to a juvenile detention center.

  Then Anthony began to change. Stupid me, I’d thought he’d had an epiphany and was in support of my style of rehabilitation. One thing led to another and we began seeing each other
socially. My brother hated it.” Shame wouldn’t allow her to keep eye contact as guilt spilled from her trembling lips, “I really believed Anthony was a good man. It took a year and Jerry’s death to show me the type of monster he is. But even after Jerry’s funeral, I didn’t see it right away.”

  * * * *

  The stark pain and agony in her exotic green eyes belted Jet in the stomach. He’d been right to confront her, but it didn’t make what he was seeing any easier to handle.

  “What prompted your suspicions?” he asked, trying to keep an open mind. Capriccio may be slime, but accusations of murder were a whole other level.

  “Jerry wasn’t the type to do drugs.”

  Jet tried to hide his skepticism. Few people believed their loved ones were capable of half the things they did. She must have read his expression because hers became cynical.

  “Our mother died at the end of a needle when I was young. Her death was self-inflicted and the reason Jerry opened a drug facility. However it’s not the reason I believe Anthony killed him.”

  He raised a brow to let her know he was still listening and she continued.

  “Last week I received an anonymous call. Although muffled, I’m certain it was one of the boys at Jerry’s facility. He sounded petrified. He told me Anthony was blackmailing several of the teens to do some extracurricular activity for him. If they didn’t or if they told anyone, he’d manufacture evidence to send them away.” Her voice cracked. “The kid said Jerry had found out about it and confronted Anthony the night before he was found dead.”

  It felt like a hot poker seared Jet’s temple, but he kept his expression emotionless. “What type of extracurricular activity are we talking about?”

  The doctor tightly closed her eyes. She leaned her head back and opened them to the ceiling. If she was lying, she was giving a stellar performance.

  “He put them back on the street pushing the same drugs he’d threatened to convict them on. They knew the dealers, they had the contacts; he reaped the profits.”

 

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