by LENA DIAZ,
Which brought him back to her story about the peanut oil. A woman as intelligent and caring about others as Amber obviously was wouldn’t risk even having something in the house that might harm her grandfather. In fact, Dex was willing to bet his entire fortune that she’d never brought a jar of peanut butter or so much as a Snickers bar into this house. She just wouldn’t risk her grandfather’s life that way.
Then why was she so intent on letting people think that she was the one who’d killed her grandfather, even if it was just a mistake? There was only one reason that Dex could think of that made sense, given what he knew about Amber.
She was protecting someone else.
* * *
AMBER STOOD IN front of the bathroom mirror, eyeing her baggy clothes with distaste. She’d obviously lost ten or fifteen pounds since she’d begun her nomad-style life, because none of her old clothes fit. Well, at least they were clean. She’d have much rather gone back to her little hut and grabbed some of her clothes that she’d bartered in exchange for a few odd jobs here and there at the Miccosukee Indian reservation. But she wasn’t going anywhere without Dex, not if it could cost him a hundred thousand dollars.
She grimaced at the amount. Even if she worked two full-time jobs at the reservation, she’d never earn enough to pay him back that kind of cash. Assuming she didn’t end up in prison in the first place.
She sighed and tightened her belt another notch to make sure the jeans didn’t fall to her knees, then headed into the bedroom and out into the hall. The rain had stopped and the sun was going down. She hadn’t eaten all day and her growling stomach was reminding her every few minutes. It was time to see what Buddy had stocked, and fix something for Dex, too. He had to be just as hungry as she was, unless he’d gone downstairs and grabbed himself something to eat while she’d been hiding out in her room for the past few hours.
His door was closed, so she knocked. “Dex?” No answer. She knocked again, then decided he must have taken a nap, so she went down the stairs, automatically avoiding the right side of the third stair from the top out of habit. It had always squeaked, and she didn’t want to wake Dex with the noise. He’d been through a lot in the past few days and probably still needed extra sleep for his body to fully recover.
Most of the house was filling with shadows as the sun’s last rays disappeared from the windows. But she didn’t need lights to find her way through the warren of rooms. Granddaddy’s eccentricities had guided all the home’s rather unique additions, which often meant a wall was right where you’d least expect it, and a door might end up leading nowhere. She’d loved learning all the newest quirks of the maze of rooms and false walls with hidden staircases and hallways every summer when her parents had dropped her off to spend the time between school classes with her grandpa. Sometimes she’d wondered whether he’d designed the house the way he had just to make her laugh.
The thought of her parents squelched any urge to laugh, as it always did. She pushed thoughts of them away and finally—after going through the front entryway and a maze of smaller rooms—she arrived in the kitchen. It was about a third of the way down the west wing and was the only truly modern part of the whole house. She loved to cook, and the summer after her grandpa found that out, she’d arrived to find an ultramodern kitchen that would have made even a decent-sized restaurant groan with envy. Of course, it had been a waste on just her and her grandfather. But she’d whipped up all kinds of exotic meals to try to justify the expense of the kitchen, and to see the way his eyes closed in bliss when he tried any of her new recipes. Even the meal disasters were appreciated by her grandfather as he pretended to enjoy them.
She made her way around the marble-topped island in the middle of the expansive room and checked out the Sub-Zero refrigerator. True to his word, Buddy had fully stocked it. And like her grandfather used to do, he’d gone overboard—loading up enough food to keep her eating for months except for perishables like milk that would have to be replenished. The deep freeze on the other side of the kitchen was loaded with all kinds of meats and desserts. And the pantry, which was hidden behind a wall of what appeared to be ordinary cabinets but was actually an enormous door, contained every spice and raw ingredient her chef’s heart could possibly desire.
This was one of the few material things she’d truly missed after making her decision to leave two years ago. Cooking in a real kitchen, creating culinary masterpieces, was something that made her happy like nothing else—except for seeing her grandfather’s smile, of course.
She sighed and reached down to grab a couple of Delmonico steaks from one of the freezer racks.
“That sigh could fell a tree.”
She jumped, bumping her head against the top of the freezer. She turned with the steaks in hand to see Dex standing near the door that led to the backyard and the vegetable garden she used to tend so long ago. The mud streaked on the bottom of the jeans he was now wearing, plus the shoeless socks peeking out from beneath them, told her he’d been outside even if he wasn’t standing by the door. At least he’d had the sense to leave his muddy shoes by the door, on the little mat.
“Sorry,” he said.
She closed the freezer and arched a brow in question.
“About you bumping your head,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No harm done.” She started across the room, then stopped. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“Definitely a meatatarian. Especially if those are steaks.”
“They are.”
“Yum.” He headed to the sink.
“What are you doing?” She placed the steaks in the microwave to thaw them out.
“Helping. What do you want me to do? Put some potatoes in the oven to bake? Or cut them up to fry?” He washed his hands under the faucet.
“Either, I guess. Whatever you want.”
“Baked sounds good.” He dried his hands on the kitchen towel. “Point me to the veggies.”
She laughed, both surprised and delighted that he was going to cook with her. “Over there, to the right of the freezer. Pull the door on the third cabinet in the middle.”
When he did, and the entire wall opened up, he arched his brows. “Cool. Are there other surprises like this around here?”
“Everywhere.”
“Tour?” he asked, looking as excited as a little boy.
“After we eat. Absolutely.”
“I’ll eat fast.”
She shook her head at his enthusiasm and set the now defrosted steaks onto a plate to rub seasoning on them. The process of cooking, eating and then cleaning the kitchen, all the while listening to Dex talk about his time as a navy pilot and then later his adventures starting what became a billion-dollar corporation, relaxed her far more than she’d been in ages. He was an engaging speaker and made even the most mundane topics sound interesting. Just watching his eyes light up when he threw around financial investment terms she’d never much paid attention to in the past was pure joy.
She dried her hands on the kitchen towel and tossed it to him to do the same.
“And then you decided to go into business with my friend Faye’s husband and become a private investigator?”
He hung the towel over the faucet to dry. “Jake was more the private investigator, because he was a former police detective when he lived in Saint Augustine.”
“Where you live.”
He nodded. “Faye was the target of our first case actually. She was suspected of murder.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Don’t worry. Things worked out. She was innocent—Jake proved it.”
“With your help.”
“Some. I can’t take much credit. He’s the one with the investigative skills.”
“Somehow I doubt that. Or at least, I can’t imagine you trying something without becoming p
retty adept at it. You don’t know how to fail.”
“Trust me. I’ve been known to fail a time or two.” His eyes darkened and it seemed that a shadow passed over his eyes. But then, he smiled again and seemed to shake himself out of whatever memories had bothered him. “I’m pretty sure you mentioned something about a tour earlier.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re right. Come on. I’ll show you the general layout of the house for starters.” She glanced at his socks. “Although, you might want to take those off or you’ll be sliding all over the hardwood floors. The only place with carpeting is the bedrooms.”
He tugged off his socks and shoved them in the pockets of his jeans. “Ready.”
She took him through the west wing first, then the east wing, before finally making it upstairs nearly an hour later. He leaned against the banister, then jumped back when it wobbled.
“Whoa. That needs some tightening,” he said.
She frowned in surprise. “Granddaddy was meticulous about keeping this place well repaired. I don’t know why the banister would be loose like that.”
“It has been two years. Maybe Buddy wasn’t as worried about home maintenance as your grandfather. Do you have any tools around here? I can hammer a few nails into the base to temporarily stabilize it until we can get someone out here to do it the right way.”
“Are you sure?”
He wobbled the banister again. “Positive. This is dangerous. I wouldn’t want you to grab it to save yourself from a fall and have the whole thing come loose.”
“All right. There’s a maintenance shed out back. That’s where Grandpa kept everything when I lived here. I assume the tools are still there, though he didn’t use them much himself in the last few years that he was alive. He’d really slowed down by then.”
“From the cancer or age?”
“Age at first, then cancer.”
They went to the kitchen and he pulled his socks and shoes on before holding the door open for her.
A shadow moved by a stand of trees twenty feet away and hurried around the back of the very building that Amber had been about to take Dex to.
“What the...? Stay here.” Dex shoved her back inside and slammed the door. Then he took off running toward the building.
* * *
DEX FLATTENED HIMSELF against the side of the building and eased toward the next corner. He’d already searched the inside and made a full circuit around the outside and decided the intruder had gotten away. He was about to head back to the house when he heard a muffled sound and turned back toward the building again.
A few more feet, closer, closer. He turned the corner. Moonlight glinted off a gun. He grabbed for it and tackled the intruder to the ground, twisting the gun away from them then pressing it against their forehead.
Amber’s hazel eyes stared back at him in shock.
He cursed and jerked the gun away from her, pointing down at the ground.
“What the hell are you doing out here? With a gun, no less?”
Her brows lowered. “What were you doing out here without a gun? You could have been hurt.”
“And I could have shot you just now with your own gun.”
She swallowed hard. “Well, yes, there is that.”
He swore again and pulled her to her feet, then shoved the pistol into his waistband. He looked around to make sure that whoever he’d seen wasn’t sneaking up on them, then put his hand on the small of her back because he remembered how she hated him grabbing her hand and pulling her after him.
“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s get inside before whoever was out here decides to come back.”
Once they were inside the kitchen, he turned the lock on the door and yanked out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Calling Deputy Holder. Assuming I can get cell coverage.”
She shrank away from him. “If you’re worried about the gun, it belonged to my grandfather. It’s registered.”
“I’m not worried about the gun. I’m worried about whoever we saw skulking around the property. With you and me both outside looking for him, there was no one watching the unlocked kitchen door.”
Her eyes widened and she turned around, looking at the dark opening that led into the next room before backing up against the wall beside Dex. “You think he’s inside?” she whispered.
“I have no idea. But I’m not about to take any chances.” When Holder came on the phone, Dex told him about the shadowy figure he’d seen behind the house. After ending the call, he pulled the gun out of his waistband. “Let’s sit at the kitchen table until Holder gets here with some deputies to help search the house.”
She sat beside him while he aimed the pistol at the doorway.
“Why didn’t you tell Holder about the gun?” she asked.
“Because before he gets here, we’re hiding the gun. He doesn’t need to know it even exists.”
“Why?”
He glanced down at her before looking back at the opening. “Because I’m pretty sure someone out on bond for a murder charge isn’t supposed to have any weapons. They could yank your bail and lock you right back up.”
She shivered beside him. “I hadn’t thought of that. Thank you.”
“It’s my job to think of things like that.”
“Your job?”
“You know...as a deputy and all.” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes.
“Where was the gun hidden anyway?” he asked.
She waved vaguely toward the far wall. “In a hidden panel.”
“How many of these hidden panels are there?”
“Too many to count.”
“Do they all contain guns?”
“Of course not. Just the ones by the front door, the back door here, and in Grandpa’s bedroom upstairs.”
He shook his head.
“What?” she asked. “Why does that seem to worry you?”
“Well, let me see. The house has been vacant for two years. And someone was skulking around the property like they know it really well and managed to slip past me even though I was out there trying to find them. I have to think they know this place, and if they’ve been slipping in and out of the house for the past few years, they might know all of the hiding places, too.”
“Meaning they could have one of Grandpa’s guns.”
“Yep. And Holder’s a good hour outside Mystic Glades. I’m thinking we might want to hunker down somewhere more defensible than this kitchen while we wait for backup.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Is there a room without any windows close by?”
“The pantry, I guess?”
“That works.” They headed toward the wall of cabinets.
A distant squeak sounded from somewhere deep in the house. They both froze.
“Any idea what that was?” Dex asked.
“Yes. It was the stairs,” she whispered. “Someone’s inside the house.”
Dex hurried to the cabinets and yanked the door open. “Get in.”
She went inside but stopped and turned around when he didn’t join her. “What are you doing? Come in here with me.”
He shoved the gun into her hands. “Barricade the door and don’t let anyone in but me or Deputy Holder.”
“Wait,” she whispered harshly. “Dex, you’re not going out there without the gun. And I’m not hiding in here while you’re risking your life.”
He leaned down and tilted her chin up. “Amber, there’s no way in hell you’re going with me. And I’m not leaving you here defenseless. Take the gun, and barricade the door.”
He gently shoved her back and pulled the door closed.
Amber gritted her teeth and yanked the door open.
But Dex was gone, and the lights were off.
Chapter Eight
Dex crouched against the wall, keeping as still as possible as he peered down the second-floor hallway in the east wing. Unless he remembered incorrectly, there were no balconies off this section of the house. Which meant whoever he’d followed up here was trapped. And that made him dangerous.
There. A dull thump, from one of the rooms on the right. He inched his way down the hall and stopped in front of the door that seemed the most likely to be where the intruder was hiding. A second later, another thump.
Dex carefully turned the doorknob, then threw the door open and ran inside. He saw the silhouette of someone by the window, but he knew that silhouette now.
“Damn it, Amber. How did you even get up here?”
The light flicked on overhead. Amber stood a few feet away, the pistol wedged in her waistband. “I wasn’t about to cower in the pantry while you went off after an intruder. Especially since you left the gun with me.”
“Did it occur to you that I’m trying to protect you?”
“Yes. And I appreciate it. But welcome to the modern age. I can protect myself.”
He sighed. “I suppose you can. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to protect you anyway. I’m clinging to my Neanderthal roots.”
She laughed.
He grinned. “You should do that more.” His grin faded and he turned around. “Since I don’t see anyone else up here, I’m guessing the bad guy got away before I made it upstairs. How did you get up here without passing me?”
“I used the back stairs.”
“Back stairs? Where?”
She stepped to the wall and pressed a decal of a flower. A panel slid back to reveal a dark hole. Dex peeked into the opening.
“I should have expected something like that in a house like this. You left this off the tour.”
