Sinful Secrets

by Melissa Ohnoutka

  Dumb-nut whined, giving his standard poor-pitiful-me look a second try. Usually, Ryker would toss him a treat to pacify the old fella. But tonight, his thoughts were elsewhere. A place he’d never thought he’d revisit again in his lifetime.

  He stretched his arms out across the back of the black sofa, resting his head against the cool leather to relieve the tension building in his neck. Gritting his teeth at the scraggly excuse of a Christmas tree he’d set up in the corner of the room, he let his mind wonder.

  Joanna McNamee. What was her story? She should have been more concerned about her missing truck, regardless of the fact that she’d found it. Didn’t she want to know who took it and why? Hell, the only emotional response he saw during their entire conversation was the moment she’d asked about Keith being there.

  Shit. Could Keith be that weird, skinny kid with glasses who’d hung around her? Although he’d be taller, meatier, possibly less awkward looking, maybe even decent-looking now. Sure he was younger than her, but that’s probably who she’d been spending her time with. Monied society-type, more in Jo Jo’s league than him.

  He closed his eyes and allowed the image of the beautiful woman he’d run into that day take root.

  Ten years was a long time. But damn, she still looked good. Who was he kidding? She was smoking hot. Even in that silly country-girl getup, complete with braids, plaid shirt buttoned just low enough to pique any man’s interest, and worn red cowboy boots.

  He’d thought his raging sex drive and the alcohol were to blame for the strong feelings that rushed him that night so many years ago. Shit, they’d drunk so much tequila he’d had trouble remembering if they’d had sex. But after the fog cleared, he knew without a doubt he’d kept true to his morals. Taking advantage of a woman wasn’t his style. Damn. She’d wanted to. God, how she’d pushed him, teased him. But he’d won in the end. Holding her perfect, womanly form while she slept it off and spooned against him. The memory would forever burn deep in his brain. And his body.

  They’d woken up the next morning, scantily clad, in his bed, but neither one spoke of the night’s sensual escapades. After a few pleasantries and helping her find her bra, she’d slipped out without a word when he’d gone to shower. Not a good-bye, not a note on his pillow. Nothing.

  Hell, what had he been thinking? They’d barely known each other in high school. She had no idea he’d been hot for her for years. Never regarded him as anything but the nice boy who’d helped her out of a few sticky situations. The boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Except for an occasional smile, she never knew you existed, asshole. Give it a rest.

  All this time, Ryker convinced himself forgetting her had been best. But seeing Jo Jo again brought all kinds of emotions crashing down on top of him like an unrelenting avalanche.

  He rolled his eyes beneath his lids—fairy tales for the weak and misguided.

  Dumb-nut let out a yelp to show his annoyance over being ignored.

  Ryker didn’t move. He brought the satisfying memories of Jo Jo closer. Her perfume. Sweet, tangy, spicy just like her. The full arch of her lips, the round curve of her hips, the taste of her skin, and oh, the feel of her body pressed to his…how much more could he stomach before needing a good, long cold shower?

  A large paw landed in his lap, right on top of the family jewels, and helped knock the imagery out of his head.

  “So not cool.” He groaned, bending at the waist to help the pain dissipate. Dumb-nut hopped up to help, too, licking his face with his slobbery tongue. “Damn dog,” he growled, waving him away.

  Her reasons for leaving without saying good-bye taunted him once more. He gritted his teeth.

  Women were highly overrated.

  So why couldn’t he let this one go?

  “What’s her story, ol’ fella?”

  The dog tilted his head one way and then the other from his dog bed across the room.

  “Think she ran back home to Daddy after ditching me?” Odd, he thought, especially since she’d confided she was going to break free of the old man.

  Another tilt of the head and a small whimper as the dog stood, wagging his bent tail.

  “You know I searched for that chick months afterward? Hoped I’d catch a glimpse of her around campus or town. Pretty dumb, right?” The dog ran over and plopped down on the floor at Ryker’s feet, his head resting on the toes of Ryker’s boots.

  “I know exactly how you feel.” He leaned forward, rubbing the mutt’s ear.

  As he remembered it, she’d come on to him at the bar. A blond bombshell he’d always considered more his type had urged Jo Jo on from a table across the dance floor. He’d recognized Jo Jo the minute she sat down on the stool beside his but played dumb, wondering what her angle was. Since she’d kept her distance back home at the local dance halls, he decided to act clueless. See what she was up to. Imagine his surprise to find her as fun and interesting as she was attractive.

  Hell, maybe the liquor had more to do with her brash actions than any interest she may, or may not, have felt for him.

  He scoffed. That would certainly explain the reason she didn’t recognize him at the hotel in Houston today. She’d probably gone through a dozen men since that day. All of them had to be more suitable than him.

  He winced. Not exactly the realization he wanted. He liked believing she’d felt the same strange pull he had when their eyes met that night. Idiot.

  Chapter Four

  At nine that evening, an hour after the guests arrived, Joanna stood admiring her hard work, delighted by the peaceful Christmas atmosphere. Perfect.

  She glanced down at the phone in her hand, a pang of uneasiness settling in after finding she’d missed no calls or messages. Where the devil was her crew? They should have called to check in. Let her know they were all right. They had to realize she was worried sick. Keith, at least, had finally checked in—said he’d been called away and had no idea about the truck or where Toby and Jerry were, but he’d call around.

  What if something bad had happened after they left the police station? Had they been behind a scare tactic, a ploy to interfere with her business, or was there a more serious reason to be concerned?

  The other interferences were minor and made her look incompetent to her clients, but weren’t dangerous. The most troubling aspect—the gun.

  She shivered at the thought.

  Moving into the ballroom, she tried to keep her paranoia in check and enjoy the fruits of her labor. Although, she felt a bit self-conscious in her Jimmy Choo ankle strap pumps and backless, curve-hugging, tea-length party gown. Sam assured her it was classy, just as she had the day she’d talked her into buying it. She closed her eyes and drew in a slow, deep breath to calm her erratic nerves. They’d actually pulled this off. Even with the multiple setbacks and missing crew, she’d managed to somehow make it all work in time.

  Nothing short of a miracle.

  Her favorite decorative pieces were the extravagant topiaries sitting in the middle of the tables. Each one consisted of white poinsettia flowers and greenery, an intricately wound set of white Christmas lights, along with four different ribbons of varies sizes, shapes, and textures. One topiary took over five hours to assemble. A whole week to complete them all. With the hall’s lights dimmed, the room glistened like a winter wonderland, void of nothing but the real snow. Exactly how she pictured the fantasy in her mind.

  She growled inwardly. Too bad this beautiful night would be spent trying to figure out who would take such drastic measures to destroy her career. Clenching her fists by her side, she glanced around the ballroom and took several deep, cleansing breaths.

  Her father’s clients and friends were enjoying the festivities, especially the live band and open bar. Several of the guests had stopped her to say how beautiful the decorations were. They were impressed by her creativity and organization skills, not to mention perplexed they’d never known she was so talented. A few even asked for business cards.

  Counting the ways she wanted
to pulverize the stubbornness out of her father’s thick skull for never referring her business to others, she rounded the corner leading to the pool behind the big hall.

  “I don’t know how much longer.”

  The raspy voice stopped Joanna cold.

  “Look, Frank, there’s a science to this. I can’t just whack the old man over the head and run off with the goods. It’s going to be trickier this time.”

  Who the hell was this? She’d booked the ballroom and pool area for the entire night, exclusively for the guests. Joanna leaned farther into the shadows until the brick wall of the banquet hall impeded her progress.

  “Fine. After tonight, then.” The woman’s voice grew angry, the tone very familiar.

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it sounded like Denise. But her dad’s girlfriend was usually strapped to his arm like one of those blowup arm floaties kids wore to the pool. The woman didn’t dare let him out of her sight for too long, probably for fear he’d wise up. See her for the floozy she was. Joanna slid a step closer trying to get a visual and bumped a lawn chair. Crap.

  Silence filtered through the muggy night air making it hard to breath.

  Double crap. Maybe they didn’t hear her clumsy misstep?

  “I gotta go. Hang tight ‘til I say.” No doubt the woman had heard her.

  A bazillion questions launching in her brain, Joanna squared her shoulders and stepped out into the open, finding nothing but the sparkling pool water glistening back at her beneath the moon.

  “Is anyone there?”

  In the span of a breath, the woman had disappeared, leaving a half-empty wine glass on the ground next to a chaise lounge, inches from the pool. From the wet footprints on the cement, it appeared someone had been soaking their feet in the cool water.

  Joanna searched the shadows as she walked over, bent down, and retrieved the glass. Somewhere off in the distance, she swore she heard someone say, little bitch.

  Standing quickly, she turned toward the whispered voice. The side door leading back into the banquet hall clicked shut.

  Perfect. The woman had seen her and knew she’d been listening. Whoever it was now had the upper hand. Way to go, Joanna. A detective you’ll never be.

  The woman’s words chilled her to the bone. Could it have been Denise? Whacking an old man over the head? Running off with the goods? Maybe she should call the police.

  Yeah, right. And tell them what? “I think I heard a woman plotting to kill a man and run off with his stuff. But I didn’t see her face, and I’m not sure exactly what she meant.”

  Geesh… Dear old dad would disown her right then and there. Would be able to prove she’d turned out just like her non-existent mother. Batshit crazy.

  She needed to discover the identity of this mystery woman, then find out who she was talking about and what their conversation meant.

  Holding the wine glass by the stem, she made her way over to the side doorway and yanked it open. Discreetly, she rejoined the party, all the while searching for anyone suspicious. The band’s upbeat Christmas music had most of the guests on the dance floor, which should have made finding the woman easier because she hadn’t had enough time to get settled in. Yet, as Joanna scanned the room, no one looked out of place, or was trying to hide. Her dad was speaking to a group of his longtime friends, while Denise was nowhere near him. Odd.

  An eerie sensation spread down her spinal cord. Was her father in danger? She’d never sensed any ill will between the woman and her father. The twenty-year age difference was Joanna’s main objection to the relationship. Well, that and Denise constantly trying to be the mother Joanna never had.

  Wealthy in her own right, Denise didn’t need money. At least that’s the talk that swirled around town. So why would she whack someone? What goods would she run off with? Maybe Joanna needed to dig a little deeper into the woman’s past. See if it truly was family money, like Denise said, or if she’d come by the wealth later on in life through less than honorable means.

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  Joanna jumped out of her skin, almost dropping the wine glass she still held. “Sam, where the devil did you come from? You really need to stop sneaking up on me.”

  Sam laughed. “Why so jumpy, girl?” Her gaze fell to the glass. “You drinking wine while working?” Her friend’s tone rang with concern.

  “Not even on my worst day.” Joanna bent down to wipe up some of the liquid that had spilled on the wall, but Sam pulled her back up by the arm.

  “That’s not your job. Especially in that breathtaking dress. Leave it. We can get someone to clean it up.”

  “Fine.” Joanna reluctantly conceded and led her friend out into the hallway away from the crowd and noise. “Hey, I need you to do something for me.”

  Sam’s brow pinched. “Okaay. Usually, I’d be like, anything for you, but something in your eyes is freaking me out. Are you in trouble? Is that why the cop was here earlier?”

  Joanna shook her head. “I think my father might be in some kind of danger.”

  Her friend balked. “What? You have been drinking, haven’t you?”

  “Shh… Keep your voice down.” Joanna decided it might be best to rethink her decision to involve Sam and tried to walk away. “Never mind. I don’t want to worry you.”

  Sam grabbed her arm. “Jo Jo, what the freakin’ hell is going on? You can’t tell me you think your dad is in danger and then not explain.”

  “Shh… I’m sorry. I’m not sure. I mean, I overheard a weird conversation on the patio by the pool. But I didn’t hear their entire conversation and didn’t see the person, so I may be blowing this all out of proportion.”

  “You? Blow things out of proportion? That’s funny.”

  Joanna gave Sam’s arm a firm punch. “Stop. I know I tend to overdramatize things, but something in this woman’s voice had my skin crawling for cover.”

  “Wait. A woman?” Joanna had Sam’s full attention now. “Are you going to confront the sneaky bimbo?”

  “How can I? I’m not certain it was her.”

  “Then what? You want me to do it?” Sam crossed her arms, as if readying herself for the confrontation.

  “No.” Jo Jo dropped her gaze to the rim of the glass and the bright red lipstick staining it. “I thought maybe you could get your friend in the forensic lab to see if there’s any trace of DNA.” She held up the glass for Sam to see.

  “Clever, Jo Jo. I’m impressed.” A sly smile appeared in the corners of her eyes. “And easy enough.” Sam grabbed a napkin off the side table behind them and then took the glass, wrapping it securely within the cloth. “If it was her, what do you plan to do?”

  “I have no idea. Dad will be furious. If I don’t have undeniable proof, I might as well throw in the towel. Admit defeat. Go back to college, become a lawyer, and live my life in hell.”

  “No over dramatization there.” Sam smirked.

  “Just be discreet until I get a better handle on this. I don’t want to throw my hand. Although I think she saw me by the pool.”

  Sam’s mouth dropped open. “If she is planning something for your father, the last thing you need to do is let her know you’re on to her.”

  “She’s probably already scheming about what to tell my father.”

  “I’ll get this to the lab. Tell them to rush it. Even though it’s going to cost me.” She winked. “My friend should be working now. I’ll get this to him and be back to help before all these drunk partygoers start heading home.” Sam gave her a quick hug and disappeared through the front lobby on a mission.

  Joanna watched her friend walk away and relaxed. If the woman turned out to be Denise, Sam would bring her the ammunition she needed to rid their lives of this crazy woman once and for all.

  But maybe it hadn’t been Denise. There were several women on the company payroll. Possibly one of them had an ax to grind. This wouldn’t be the first time a disgruntled employee tried to get the best of Clint McNamee.

&nb
sp; She blew out a heavy breath. What had the woman meant by whack? Murder just sounded so unbelievable.

  Could there be more to her missing truck than just sabotage? Maybe she wasn’t the target at all. Maybe someone was out to destroy her father.

  Thoughts of the handsome deputy floated through her mind. Did this warrant calling him? No. What benefits would anyone get by messing with her father’s Christmas party? Made no sense. Still…

  Ryker Kane. She’d often wondered how it would feel to run into him again. Shoot, she’d dreamed long and hard about it. But nothing prepared her for the way her hormones perked up, the way her heart raced at the mere thought of those alluring eyes.

  Although the alcohol had done quite a number on her memory that night and several days afterward, she remembered how he’d turned down her advances. How hot and heavy they’d made out. How she’d loved hearing him groan in delight and agony as she teased him unmercifully. And how in the end, he’d only held her tight until she quit fighting and fell asleep. She’d always had a thing for him, from the moment he rescued her from those high school bullies. For a while he’d smile at her when they passed in the halls, but then he seemed to disappear from her life, and she’d gotten too busy with her social life to think much about it. Then he was back, and the man stole her heart right out of the vault she’d sealed up tighter than Fort Knox. But it had been shattered into tiny pieces when Keith revealed the truth behind Ryker’s motives.

  “Deputy Kane, you’re a nice piece of work.” Biting her bottom lip, she hoped no one overheard her as she made her way back into the ballroom, determined to keep her mind on the important things.

  Like the fact that most of the guests now looked three sheets to the wind. Great. Making certain those under the influence used the company-paid taxi service to get home would be her responsibility.

  Her thoughts back on the party, her gaze bouncing from one prominent couple to the next, she decided to manage the valet herself.

  Once the party ended, she’d worry about the woman she’d overheard.