by Peggy Jaeger
“Come on, Kan,” Abby said. “Come out with us. It’ll be fun. There’s a great jazz band at the Wagontrain tonight.”
“I really need to clean up and get some sleep,” Kandy said. “You guys go, though. Take Mom. She loves jazz.”
“She’s already on board,” Gemma said. “Come on. Come with us. You haven’t been out in ages.”
“I’ll remind you I was out twice this week.”
“Those times don’t count,” Gemma said, flipping an impatient hand at her. “They were both for business. You need to get out for fun.”
Josh came into the kitchen.
“Josh,” Abby said, crossing to take the lobster pot from him, “convince Kandy to come out with us. She deserves a break after all the hard work she did today.”
Kandy didn’t—couldn’t—look at him.
“You saving that?” he asked, pointing to the corn.
“I’m freezing it so I can make corn chowder next time I’m out here.”
“That’s my baby,” Hannah said, wiping her dripping hands with a towel. “Waste not, want not. I should have named you ‘Recycle.’ It’s much more fitting.”
Kandy smiled at her. “Sugar-Coated Recycle isn’t the greatest name for a cook book.”
“Neither is Cooking with Recycle,” Josh added, grabbing an ear of corn from her hand and biting into it with a ravenous gusto.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Didn’t you eat anything at the party?” she asked.
“Nope. Just the piece of cake you gave me. I was too busy working and being grilled by your relatives,” he said, raising an eyebrow at Hannah.
“I don’t grill,” Hannah said, a Madonna-like smile on her face. “I merely elicit information in the most effective way I know how.”
“Yeah,” Gemma said, “by grilling.”
“You didn’t even have any lobster?!”
“Nope. Got any left?”
“That’s like asking if the Good Humor man has ice cream in his truck.” Gemma opened the refrigerator. “Here, she’s already cracked it.”
She handed him a large glass container laden with lobster meat.
Kandy reached into the cupboard to grab a dish at the same time he did.
“I can get it,” he told her, batting her hand away.
Blushing and hating herself for it, Kandy turned and asked, “Want me to heat it up?”
“Nope. It’s fine as is.”
He sat down at the breakfast bar and forked over a helping onto his dish. “What were you all talking about when I came in?”
“We’re going out,” Abby said, watching him eat. “We want Kandy to come, but she’s being obstinate.”
“Do you want to go?” he asked her.
“Not really.”
“Can’t you convince her?” Abby asked, perilously close to a whine. “Use your testosterone wiles or something? It’ll be fun. We’ll all go. We haven’t all been out together in decades.”
Josh swallowed and looked at each of the four women in the room, three of whom were staring at him while he ate, and then back to Kandy. “Your call,” he told her.
“I’d really rather just clean up and go to bed.”
Josh nodded. To her sisters and mother he lifted a shoulder. “Sorry.”
“You didn’t even try.” Abby crossed her arms in front of her and pouted.
He cocked his head to one side and asked, “How old are you?”
When she blushed, Hannah laughed. “Come on, you two,” she said, throwing an arm around Abby, who was closest to her. “Give your sister a break. She worked her butt off today.”
“Which is why she should come out with us and blow off some steam. Have some fun,” Gemma said, glaring at her sister.
Hannah threw Josh a quick look. “Oh, don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine.”
As they went to prepare for the evening ahead, Josh and Kandy remained in the kitchen.
The silence echoed like a bomb detonating.
Kandy maneuvered in a nervous whirl about the room, putting away extra food, drying the lobster pots, doing anything she could to avoid looking in his direction.
“Mark Begman told me your lobster was unbelievable,” Josh said. “He wasn’t kidding.”
Kandy glanced quickly over at him and then back to the sink. “Thanks.”
“He said you add something to the water.”
“Just some spices and a little sugar to cut the acid. Plus a few beers.”
“Sophie’s recipe?”
“No. Mine.”
She stacked the pots together by the back door.
“I’ll take those out for you.”
“Oh thanks. They go in the garage,” she said, automatically.
A wildfire of heat blazed up her neck and face and she couldn’t look at him for fear he’d say something about what had happened just a few short hours ago between them.
She said a silent prayer of thanks when he kept silent, grabbed the pots, and went to store them in the garage.
* * *
Josh had just put the last pot away when he heard the scream.
Bolting back into the house, he collided with Kandy in the foyer.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I think it was Abby,” she said, looking up the stairs to the loft.
“Kandy, come up here,” Hannah called.
The urgency in her voice was hard to miss.
Josh took the stairs two at a time, Kandy right at his heels.
They found Hannah holding a shaking, crying, and clinging Abby, Gemma rubbing her back.
“What happened?” Josh aimed his question at all three of them as they huddled together in the hallway.
“Look on the bed,” Hannah said, her arms tightly woven around her daughter.
He moved into the room and toward the head of the white-washed brass canopy. On one lace pillow sham lay a typewritten note. The paper, once plain white, was tainted and dripping with a watery, scarlet substance, saturating the sham it was attached to, as well as the comforter and sheet beneath it. The liquid originated from an object over the letter: a snakehead.
Behind him he heard Kandy muffle a scream. When he turned, she clamped a hand over her mouth and dashed into the bathroom, Gemma right behind her. In the next instant the sound of retching filled the room.
* * *
“Tell me what happened,” Josh said to Abby as he handed her a tall glass of scotch, straight.
He’d moved them down to the living room after Kandy finished vomiting. Gemma was seated next to her oldest sister, a protective arm tossed over her shoulder, Abby still wrapped in her mother’s embrace, opposite them. Hannah and Gemma had both declined drinks. Josh hadn’t even asked Kandy if she wanted one, knowing she’d heave it up. Abby was the only one who needed something to calm her nerves.
After draining the glass and handing it back to him for a refill, she took a deep breath, and said, “I forgot my mascara and knew Kandy had some in her vanity. When I went into the bedroom, I didn’t notice…that…thing at first.” She swallowed hard, her mouth twisting in revulsion. “I got the mascara and then saw the note on the pillow. When I got closer to the bed, I saw the blood…the head…and screamed.”
“Abby’s always hated the sight of blood,” Gemma said.
“Anything that bleeds,” Hannah offered, cuddling her daughter. “Ever since you saw Grandma decapitate a chicken when you were three.”
Abby groaned.
Hannah glanced over at Kandy and then at Josh. “What did the note say?”
He’d made them all leave the room before any of them could read it.
“Was it a death threat?” Gemma asked.
Josh looked from sister to sister, finally settling on Kandy. “Not a death threat, no. There was no mention of any detailed intent to harm Kandy.”
“But a threat of some kind, ri
ght?” she asked.
Her eyes were misty and unfocused as she looked up at him.
“Yeah.”
“What did it say?” Hannah asked again.
Josh debated what to tell them. In truth, Kandy was the only one who should be told. But he knew none of the four women were going to give up without knowing.
“‘Stay away from the studio. If you go back, people will get hurt. Can you live with that, Kandy?’”
Her quick inhalation was deafening.
“Pretty clear meaning.” Hannah stared at her oldest daughter.
“What’s the significance of the snakehead and all the blood?” Gemma asked. “Assuming it was blood and not some weird food coloring or something. Just for effect? It doesn’t seem to make any sense.”
“Nothing, so far, in this whole situation, makes any sense,” Kandy said, rising. “I’m making tea. Any takers?”
Hannah expressed a desire for a cup, as did Gemma.
Josh watched her exit the room. Her shoulders were slumped, her movements robotic, her torso and legs stiff. He knew it was taking every ounce of willpower she had not to fall apart.
“Who could have done this?” Hannah asked when Kandy was out of earshot.
“The obvious answer is someone who was here today,” Josh said, rising from the couch. “Excuse me.”
She was leaning against the counter, her back hunched, shoulders slumped. A teapot sat on the porcelain bottom of the sink, the running water overflowing out of it.
Josh reached around her, noted her knuckles were bone-white from the death grip she had on the ledge, and turned off the tap. Placing a gentle hand at her back, he asked, “You okay?”
She turned and his heart cleaved in two.
Two fat, silent tears streaked down her pale cheeks from eyes that were too large and haunted. Her mouth quivered, the corners turned downward. He was surprised she’d been able to hold on to her emotions as long as she had.
“It was somebody who was here today,” she said. Her voice raw from earlier. “In my house. It’s true, isn’t it? I invited this person here.”
He wanted to lie and ease some of her pain. The heartache so in evidence when she looked at him made his own heart break. He wanted to calm and comfort her, eliminate her cares and concerns, take her in his arms and love the worry away. Do anything he could to make her feel better.
That’s what he wanted to do.
Instead, he did what he had to do.
Josh lifted the filled teapot from the sink, secured the whistletop, and placed it on the stove. After making sure he’d turned the burner on correctly, he faced her again.
She was still staring at him, her eyes a tad more focused and clearer than they’d been a few moments before.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was someone who was here. Someone who came with the specific purpose of leaving you that little present.”
Shaking her head, she moved away from the sink and swiped the back of her hands at her eyes. She took two deep breaths as she stood, rock still, her palms digging into the sockets. When she removed her hands, she gave her shoulders a shake. Eyes clearing, her face getting back some color, her lips had stopped trembling. Once again he was amazed at her ability to take control of herself. In that instant, watching her regain her composure and knowing the supreme effort it took, he was more intent than ever on finding out who was harassing her.
“I want this over,” she said, breaking the silence in the room. Her voice was regaining its full body and strength. Reaching into one of the cabinets, she began taking out teacups and saucers. She placed them on the counter and added, “It’s not just about me anymore. The game has changed. Whoever did this threatened people I care about. People I love with all my heart. I won’t allow it. Tell me what we have to do to find out who’s responsible. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”
“Anything?”
Standing at her full height, shoulders back and strong, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Anything that will help you get this bastard.”
Josh nodded. He hated what he was about to say, but had no choice. “You realize now, Kandy, one of the people you care about, maybe even love, is the one responsible, don’t you? There’s really no other explanation after this incident. Can you handle that? Handle knowing it?”
“I have to, don’t I?” she answered, slamming her hand down flat on the counter. “It’s obvious now. There were no strangers here.”
He shook his head, kept his voice calm.
“No. It was all family, people who work with you, and your sister’s friends.”
She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Who can be eliminated. No, I know it’s someone close to me. I accept that. We have to figure out who as quick as we can.”
Josh understood her intent. “There’s no way you’re going to stay away from the studio, is there?”
Again, her eyes pierced him with a hard, determined, glare. “Not a chance in hell. I refuse to be intimidated by anyone.”
“That’s my baby.”
They both turned to see Hannah standing at the threshold, smiling. “Sophie’s backbone to a T.” She moved toward her daughter and embraced her. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I know, Kandace Sophia. I’m proud you’re my daughter.”
“Mom.”
Kandy wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and closed her eyes. They stood for a moment, just holding each other.
“I came out to help with the tea. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Hannah said, pulling away. She stared at her daughter’s face and laughed. “Well, that’s a fib,” she said with a chuckle. “Of course I did.”
“Of course you did,” Kandy repeated, hugging her mother again. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”
“The three of us came to the same conclusion you have,” Hannah said, glancing across the room at Josh. “It has to be someone who was invited here today. We’ve been racking our brains to try and figure out who.”
“That’s my job,” Josh said, turning the burner off when the whistle sounded. “Let me do it.”
Kandy placed four tea bags into the boiling pot of water. Letting them steep, she said, “I think we should pool our resources.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, taking the cream from the refrigerator and handing it to her.
“Let’s sit down and try to figure out if we noticed anyone acting strange or weird today. I bet we can come up with something one of us saw that struck us as odd.”
“It’s not that easy,” Josh said, lifting the tray she’d placed the cups on, along with cream, sugar, and spoons.
“I’m sure it isn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to try.” She led him out of the room, Hannah in tow.
For the next hour the five of them sat in the living room, drinking and talking. When Abby complained of being cold, Josh lit a fire. He let them hash out their thoughts, listening, making comments once or twice. He knew they needed this, needed to introduce some kind of control and order back into the day.
Especially Kandy.
While they spoke and hedged back and forth with their various theories, Josh surreptitiously watched her. She sipped her tea, wiping her tongue across her lips after each swallow, and obviously relishing every last taste of it.
At one point, Josh had to shift in his seat because just watching her drink got him hard. The memory of her taste on his lips and in his mouth washed over him, sending a tidal wave of desire tsunami-ing throughout his system.
With half an ear to their musings, Josh let his mind drift to what it would feel like to have Kandy under him, writhing and bucking to their own rhythm. To feel that skin, that soft-as-a-whisper skin next to his, warming him, feeding him, was something he realized he craved, like water to a dehydrated, desert-stranded man. From the moment she put her hand on his chest in the garage there had been no going back for either of them. His heart had vaulted when he’d found her equally aroused, and when she came ap
art in his hands, he promised himself it was only for the first time.
Right now, he wanted to tangle his fingers in her sexy curls and hold on for dear life as he kissed her senseless. Wanted to run his mouth over every naked inch of her body, sucking, tasting, and feasting on her like a man who’d always known hunger.
He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake with her spooned against him.
He wanted her. Pure and simple.
“Well, I think she’s an absolute bitch,” Hannah said, thumping her empty cup back on the tray. “How she manages to keep Cort is beyond me. I’d divorce her in a minute if I were him.”
Josh blinked, his reverie broken by Hannah’s words.
“You’re not being fair, Mom,” Kandy said from the sofa. “You don’t know anything about their marriage.”
“Yeah,” Gemma said. “Alyssa may be a royal pain in the ass, but Cort adores her. I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
Hannah graced her daughter with a focused and shrewd glower. “Gemma, I’ve been around men like Cort Mason for a long time. Much longer than any of you. I’ve seen enough to realize when a man is cheating.”
“Mom.”
“Oh, come on, Kandy.” With a swipe of her well-manicured hand, she added, “Don’t tell me he isn’t. The signs are as clear as a bell.”
“Maybe you’d like to share those signs with us,” Josh said, at once on investigative alert.
Hannah cocked her head at him, a flirty smile on her lips. “You’ve been very quiet up until now,” she said. “What have you been thinking about, sitting there all big and brooding?”
Josh shook his head. “Sorry, Hannah, it won’t work on me.” He grinned and added, “But thanks.”
When she laughed out loud, her eyes dancing from the light of the fire, Josh could imagine any red-blooded male making a fool of himself for this woman.
“You’re too darling for words,” Hannah told him. “It’s not many a man who can rebuke and compliment at the same time.”
“Would you two quit the lovefest?” Gemma said, disgust in her tone. “Mom, tell us why you think Cort’s playing around.”
Hannah met her daughter’s heated glare and said, “It’s really so obvious, I’m ashamed none of you see it.” She blew out a breath. “Okay. First, whenever I’ve seen him recently, Cort has been racked by nerves.”
