by Vella Day
They’d exchanged numbers after that first night she’d driven him home. Because he didn’t have a car at the time, she’d offered to give him a lift if he ever needed one.
She stood at the front door of her shop and tapped in his number.
He answered immediately. “Charlotte? How are you feeling?”
“I guess you heard?”
“Yes. Trent came over to my place last night and told me everything.”
“How is he?”
“He’s upset.” She wished she could see Harmon’s expression in order to tell how much of the truth he was telling her.
If he was so upset, why hadn’t he contacted her today? She would have asked Harmon but she didn’t want to keep him on the line if he was at work. Bosses never appreciated personal calls. “Are you at Italiano’s right now?”
“No, but I’m working from eight until closing. Do you need to talk?”
That was one of the things she liked about Harmon. He seemed to understand where she was coming from. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m always up for company. I’m just making some spaghetti and meatballs. If you hurry, I’ll save you some.” He gave her his address.
“I’ll be right there.” Maybe now she could find out exactly what was gong on in Trent’s head.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Not wanting to keep Harmon waiting, Charlotte rushed over to his apartment. He must have heard her coming up the steps, because he had the door open as soon as she reached the top.
“Hey, come in.” No sooner had she entered than Harmon lifted her chin. “It doesn’t look too bad, but I bet it hurts.”
“As long as I don’t touch my face, I’m okay. My headache went away a little after lunch.”
“That’s good. Are you hungry?”
“Very.” Her appetite hadn’t returned until about an hour ago. “What can I do to help?”
Harmon smiled. “I’m the cook, remember? Have a seat at the table and I’ll bring the food in.”
He stepped into the kitchen and pots and plates clanked and scraped. “Has Trent contacted you today?” he asked.
“No.”
“I figured. His boss took him off the case and told him to go up to Dad’s cabin for a few days to think about things. I imagine he’s rather preoccupied.” He walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates.
“Oh, no. He’s off the case?”
“’Fraid so, and he’s not happy about it.”
She could only imagine what Trent was going through. “Didn’t he object?”
Harmon chuckled. “Let’s just say he voiced his opinion rather strongly, but his boss said we’re all safer with him out of town.”
That made sense, but now it would be harder to convince Trent that she should be in his life. Harmon held up his fork but didn’t eat. He must be waiting for her.
Between the divine aroma and her cramping stomach, she was ready to scarf up the whole plate of food. “This looks delicious. Thank you.”
“I’d offer you wine, but I’m guessing you shouldn’t have any.”
“Unfortunately not.” She was still on some pain meds.
“I brewed some coffee. Want some?”
“I’d love a cup.”
Harmon was so easy to be with. She should have set her sights on this brother. Not really. She wanted Trent.
Harmon brought out the drinks and sat down. “So what’s on your mind?”
“You can’t guess?”
“You sustained a fairly serious injury, and could have been killed, and yet Trent walked out on you while you were still in the hospital, and then he didn’t bother to check on you today. You’re hurt, as well you should be.”
“You’re perceptive.” Almost scarily so.
“Actually, Trent told me how bad he felt for leaving you, but he thought you wanted to be with your parents.” He waved his fork. “Trent cares about you. A lot. He’s worried that something will happen to you if he stays around. He believed that before his boss confirmed it.”
As much as Charlotte was happy to know the truth, it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. At least Harmon hadn’t said that Trent didn’t care for her. “My life’s in danger just by being my father’s daughter. I understand the risks of being around a cop, and I’m willing to take them.”
Harmon chugged part of his wine then took a mouthful of spaghetti. He was probably trying to give himself some time to think what he wanted to say. “Have you told Trent about your feelings?”
“Yes, but he has a lot of hang ups about protecting me.”
Harmon nodded. “Once he returned from serving his country, he changed. My brother became the noble one—maybe overly so.”
Just Charlotte’s luck. Her dad had been the same way. At least her father had figured a few things out. Unfortunately, he waited until he was fifty to do so. “What do you suggest I do?”
“I’m probably not the best one to give advice. It seems whenever I talk to Trent about stuff like that, he gets upset.”
Harmon was no help. “What do you think he would do if I just drove up to his cabin?”
“What do you think he would do?”
She could picture it now. She’d knock on his door and when he answered and saw who it was, his face would be taut with controlled anger. Being polite, though, he’d ask her in, then demand to know why she was there.
She had no doubt that Trent would not react favorably to her just showing up. After all, he’d been taken off the case, which to him would be like a slap in the face. He wouldn’t want her to see him like that. Not only that, he was feeling guilty for how he’d reacted to her injury.
“He’ll probably tell me to turn around and go back home, that being around him wasn’t a good idea.”
Harmon chuckled. “I think you nailed it.”
About the only way for Trent to relent would be to seduce him—again. When they made love, she was able to reach deep inside him and almost touch his heart. “Is there anything I can say to make him change his mind?” she asked.
“You mean about letting you into his life?”
She liked that Harmon spoke his mind. “Yes.”
He scooped up the last of his meal, ate it, and then placed his fork on his plate tines down. “I think you have to make him realize he’ll be miserable without you. You can talk until you’re blue in the face and tell him you’re willing to risk it all for him, but he’s such a self-sacrificing son of a bitch that he’ll turn you away and then immediately regret it.”
He didn’t paint a very rosy picture. “How do I make him so miserable when I’m not around that he’ll relent?”
Harmon grinned. “A pretty young thing like you? I’m sure you can think of a few ways.”
Why yes, I can.
Charlotte and Harmon talked a bit more, but then he had to go to work. During that time, they’d come up with a plan. Tomorrow after he finished at Italiano’s, he’d pick her up at her place and drive her up to his dad’s cabin. Once he was certain his brother would let her in, he’d take off, and she could face the beast alone. By dropping her off in the evening, Trent would have to let her spend the night. That was when she’d put the real plan into action.
On the drive back to her apartment, she came up with how she could spend a day or two with Trent and have her store operational. Her mom worked a few days a week at a local gallery, but she didn’t work Wednesdays or Thursdays. Charlotte hoped her mom wouldn’t mind sitting in the store the day after tomorrow to answer the phone and let any client who happened to walk in know she’d be back soon.
Charlotte thought about stopping over at her parents’ tonight to ask her mom about the favor, but dad might be there, and he’d probably forbid her to go up to the cabin, especially with what happened the last time she’d been there. Hopefully, Mom would be more receptive.
Happy that things could potentially go her way, Charlotte made plans for what was left of the evening. Not only did she have to pack, she wanted to add a few more touches to
the design she’d nearly completed for Mr. Samuel’s house.
One of her goals was to prove to Trent that she was an independent woman who could handle his long hours and dangerous job.
As soon as she stepped into her house, she pulled out her phone to check if she had any messages. Not that she expected Trent to call, but a girl could hope.
Nada.
Pushing aside her disappointment, she went straight to work finding the sexiest outfit she owned. While she could do nothing about her slightly swollen face, she could entice him with the way she dressed. By the time she finished with him this weekend, he wouldn’t know what hit him.
* * *
Work the next day went by incredibly slowly. Even though Charlotte had several people stop in and ask about her services and pricing, she kept checking the time, waiting for five o’clock to roll around. The trip to the cabin would take a little over an hour, and Harmon suggested they leave around seven that evening since he didn’t get off work until six. After work, she planned to drop the office key off at her mom’s and hope she was willing to help. As soon as the last person left her store, Charlotte called her.
“Are you feeling okay?” Mom asked as soon as she answered.
Why couldn’t people just start with a simple hello? “I’m fine. I was wondering if I could stop over. I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Of course, hon. I’m always happy when you stop by.”
“Is Dad home?” She hoped not.
“No, he’s working.”
Perfect. Since she had about two hours before Harmon picked her up, she thought it would be nice if they had dinner together. “How about I grab something to eat for the two of us?”
“I’d love that.”
“I’m leaving the store now and I’ll be there shortly.”
As soon as she disconnected, Charlotte called in an order for pizza then gathered her things. In case she became too preoccupied with Trent, she contacted Mr. Samuels to set up a time to show him her new designs. She really hoped he liked them. After discussing a few options, they decided on Thursday at six p.m. That would give her almost two days with Trent.
“Perfect. I’ll see you then,” she said.
Happy to have that chore out of the way, Charlotte locked up and headed over to Italiano’s and parked in the To-Go Lane, wondering if Harmon would be the one to make her meal.
She didn’t have to wait long, and soon was headed over to her mom’s with food in hand. As she slipped into her car, she crossed her fingers that this burning seduction would work.
* * *
Trent had spent the day settling into his dad’s cabin, but the space didn’t hold the appeal like it had in the past. He was still pissed over the whole dismissal thing and could taste the bitterness on his tongue. He understood why Dan wanted him off the case, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. On the other hand, if the murder had anything to do with Harmon, it wouldn’t be smart to keep investigating as it might put his brother in danger.
The biggest downside was there was no way to know what the person might do if he realized Trent was no longer in town. The unstable man might take out his frustration on Harmon, or worse, Charlotte. While Trent had warned Harmon to be careful, he wasn’t a trained officer of the law. Charlotte wasn’t either, but Vic would keep her safe—assuming she didn’t go against her father’s wishes and go off on her own. If anyone went after his dad, they’d end up the loser.
If Trent could learn what had caused the sudden attack, he might figure out who had tried to kill him. He agreed with Dan. His team had to be close to finding the killer.
Trent tossed the paperback on the coffee table in disgust then clenched his fist. Despite being on this forced vacation, nothing was keeping him from staying in the loop. He located his phone and called Cade.
“You going nuts yet?” his partner asked with way too much cheer.
Cade knew him well. “Yes, and I sure hope you have something for me. I have a ton of questions and no answers.”
“As a matter of fact our grieving widow seems to be entertaining Mr. Samuels at the moment.”
That was interesting. This added to the picture that Vic had first painted. “You’re sure? Did Vic contact you?” Vic was keeping his eye on John Samuels while Cade was assigned to watch Elaine Goddard.
“Yup. I told him I’d watch both of them, so Vic could catch supper. He informed me of the location of the bedroom. The light went on about half an hour ago, and then just clicked back on. From the looks of it, they were doing the nasty in there.”
He didn’t need the visual. “Neither is married, and having sex with someone doesn’t mean they’re guilty of murder. We have no proof they conspired to kill Bill.”
“I know, and short of bugging their homes, I don’t know how we’ll find out what’s truly going on.”
It appeared as if John Samuel’s had no physical interest in Charlotte, which brightened Trent’s dreary day somewhat. Most likely Elaine complained about the condition of his house and suggested he make it nicer when she visited. “Even if you bugged every room, do you really expect Samuels to blurt out that he tried to shoot me? Assuming he was the one. Or say he murdered Elaine’s husband?”
“No.”
Which meant they had squat. “Has the tech department found anything on Bill’s erased computer?” Trent asked.
“Not yet, but they’re working on it.”
He felt like he was swimming in quick sand. “So what’s your plan?” Hartwick would never allow his men to watch the citizens of Rock Hard for long without something happening—not to mention it would cost the town too much money.
“Didn’t you mention that Charlotte is redecorating Samuel’s house?”
Trent didn’t like what Cade was about to suggest. “I did.”
“If I got a warrant to bug John Samuels’s house, do you think Charlotte could slip something in the bedroom and perhaps place another bug in the kitchen?”
His protective anger shot up. “No way. I’m not putting Charlotte in further danger.”
“She’s already going to be inside, so I don’t see how it could makes things worse.”
Cade wasn’t thinking. “It won’t be an issue unless she’s caught. If John is our killer, it could cost Charlotte her life.” This whole case was starting to unravel. “What about Connor and Devon? Have they learned anything?”
“When Devon called in, he said Frank Hamilton had spent last night at the office until about ten. Looks like he’s not your shooter.”
Trent wasn’t ready to jump to that conclusion. “Given where Frank’s office is located, all Devon could do was watch his car. There’s a back entrance to the building. Frank could have hightailed it over to the Steerhouse, waited for me to leave the restaurant, taken the shots, and been back in his office with no one the wiser.”
“Damn, you’re right.”
“What about Richard Delaney?” Connor was supposed to follow Elaine’s brother.
“Connor hasn’t been able to locate the man,” Cade said. “He asked at Richard’s workplace, and they said he was on vacation.”
It was possible Elaine’s brother was lying low, though Trent saw no reason why Richard would want to take him out. He hadn’t been back to question him, so there was no reason for the man to run scared. “What about the casings from the two shots?”
“We retrieved both of them. They came from a 38 caliber, but because we have nothing to compare them to, we have no idea who the shooter was.”
Trent stabbed a hand through his hair. Bill Goddard’s killer was going to get away with murder. Christ. They needed a break. And soon.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlotte checked her hair in the mirror, smoothed her hands down her sweater, and then faced Harmon. “Wish me luck.”
She hoped the turquoise top brought out the little bit of green in her blue eyes. Wanting to make undressing easy, she went with a knee length stretchy skirt. The UGG boots were more for warmth than fas
hion.
“You don’t need any luck,” he said. “Once my brother takes one look at you, he’ll be putty in your hands.”
That was sweet of him to say, but she wasn’t as confident. Trent would most likely be mad, but hopefully she could soften him a little with a few kisses and a lot of well-placed touches.
With the engine running, Harmon stepped out of the car and retrieved her suitcase. He then set it on the front stoop and returned. She slid out and inhaled, her nerves jangling.
“As soon as he answers, I’m taking off. I don’t want to give Trent the chance to send you back.”
“Thank you for everything. I’ll never forget this.” She stood on her tiptoes and placed a light kiss on his cheek. It was too dark to see if he blushed, but from the way he cleared his throat, she’d embarrassed him.
As Harmon slipped back into his seat, Charlotte marched up to the front door of the cabin and knocked. Trent must have been looking out the window, because he opened up within seconds.
As promised, Harmon drove off, and Trent stared at the retreating car. “What’s going on, Charlotte?”
“May I come in?”
Trent picked up her suitcase and motioned her inside. Memories came flooding back of the time they’d spent at the cabin all those months ago. Tomorrow, she’d inspect the front of the house to see if any evidence of the fire remained.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. While he sounded calm, the small tic around his eyes told her otherwise.
“Water is good.” She took off her coat and hooked it over the back of the kitchen chair.
He shook his head. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He might not be happy she was there, but at least he hadn’t suggested he drive her home right away. “I know, but I was worried about you.”
She could only imagine what he was experiencing—the guilt, the frustration, and the embarrassment of being taken off the case.
“I’m fine.” Trent walked into the kitchen, retrieved a beer and a glass of water.
