Terror and Temptation_A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Vella Day

  His laugh came out rueful. “I can’t prove I didn’t write the note myself, even though it’s not in my handwriting. And don’t suggest I have the crime lab analyze the document. My fingerprints are all over the damned note. Even if they did go to the expense of checking out the paper and do a handwriting analysis, it could be months before they came up with an answer. By then my mom might have killed again.”

  “Give it a try. I believe—”

  “You believe? You haven’t believed anything I’ve said, have you? I thought you wanted to find out who killed your sister. This conversation is total bullshit. You don’t care anything about me.” The line went dead.

  Kelly pulled the phone from her ear, and then listened again, but he was gone. “Damn it.” What the hell was that about? He didn’t trust cops so what could he hope in telling her? Maybe he secretly wanted her to go to the police for him. That was so like a man not to express his true feelings.

  Close to her drive, she stopped and looked around. Where was Justin calling from? Close by?

  Looking right and then left, Kelly dashed to her door. Her hands shook so much it took a minute to get the damn door opened. Once inside, she twisted the lock and pressed her back to the solid structure. Justin Bladen had called her. Oh my God.

  Damn it. Why hadn’t she asked him to explain the murders in Utah and Missouri? She clutched a hand to her chest. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t revealed what she knew about his past. If she had, she’d have more than his mom to worry about.

  Kelly pulled out her phone and called Derek. Trembling with outrage and fear she paced in the small tiled foyer, waiting for him to pick up.

  Four rings later he answered. “Yes, Kelly?”

  “Justin just called me.”

  “Justin? When?”

  “I just hung up with him. Or rather he hung up on me.”

  “What’s his number?”

  Derek didn’t ask her: What did he say? Where is he? or Are you okay?

  “I don’t know,” she said, disappointed he seemed so focused on the case and not on how she was handling the call.

  “Don’t you have caller I.D.?” She could hear his anger and frustration.

  “Yes, but it said the number was private.”

  “Are you home?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Stay there. I’m coming over.”

  Derek hung up before Kelly could answer. What was with these men?

  Full of edgy energy, Kelly closed all the drapes in the house. Could Justin have been the one in Utah looking in on her?

  Oh God. She stepped over to the living room window and peered through an opening in the drapes. A white Mercedes drove slowly down her dead end street, and her stomach churned. When she caught sight of a bobbing ponytail in the driver’s side as the car passed, she let out a sigh of relief. She had to calm down or she’d start imagining evil under every bush.

  Kelly checked her watch, calculating when Derek would arrive. She needed something to calm her nerves. From the refrigerator she pulled out a beer and drank straight from the bottle. Wouldn’t her mom be horrified?

  Sweat was caked on her skin from her run. From his station, it would take Derek a good twenty minutes, which meant she had time for a quick shower.

  Derek’s worry for Kelly forced him to drive over the speed limit. Why the hell had Justin contacted her? Had he asked her to help him in some way? Derek sure as hell hoped not. Then again, she was an easy mark for the down trodden. Even in high school, she tutored what were known as the social rejects—a horribly unfair name, for sure.

  Derek sped around the corner and zipped down her street. Seeing Kelly’s yellow Bug in the drive shot some relief through him. In a hurry to make certain she was safe, the front wheel rode up on the sidewalk. It was a bad parking job, but he had more important things to worry about.

  Derek jumped out and raced to her front door. This time he didn’t care if he stepped on the cracks. It was a stupid superstition anyway.

  He knocked. “Kelly, it’s me. Open up.”

  No answer.

  He pounded on the door—harder this time.

  Still no answer.

  Like a snake crawling up his leg, fear struck his gut. He jogged to the side of the house. Damn, all the shades were drawn. Fearing Justin had decided to visit her, Derek sprinted around back. The kitchen window’s shade was partly open, and he looked inside. Nothing appeared disturbed, and his fear lessened somewhat, but his insides were still clenched.

  A light off to his right caught his attention. Not making a sound, he crept along the side of the house. A bolt of thunder crackled in the sky, and then the rain came down in earnest, but he ignored the discomfort.

  Derek sidled closer to the window. The cracked drapes gave him a view of ...holy shit. Kelly.

  Alone.

  Naked.

  Except for white lacy panties. He went rock hard. He should turn around and not peek, but some primal instinct made him stare. Having tasted her once and made love to her so sweetly, he wanted her and needed her. Too bad, she’d never accept him.

  He grunted. She looked more beautiful than in Utah, if that was possible.

  Not wanting her to catch him, he raced around to the front. By the time he ducked under the porch overhang, his shirt was soaked and his jeans were wet through and through. He readjusted his pants and rang the bell.

  Kelly shouted something from inside, and a moment later she pulled back the door, all fresh faced and wearing a tight tank top and shorts. His groin ached.

  Derek stepped in and grabbed her arms. “Are you okay?”

  She smiled and his heart did something funny. “Yes.” She ran her gaze up and down him. “Ewww, you’re all wet.”

  “It’s raining.”

  “Let me get you a towel before you ruin the hard wood floors.” Despite her laugh, her face held a lot of tension. Derek wanted to question her about the phone call, but decided she’d tell him when she was ready.

  Embarrassed, he stepped back to the tiled foyer. She returned with a white, fluffy bath towel. Thinking of Kelly showering made him hard again. Jeez. He had to pull himself together or he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on Justin’s all-important call.

  He wiped down his face and dragged the towel over his shirt, but it didn’t help much. His clothes still dripped.

  “Why don’t you take off your shirt?” she suggested.

  Derek studied her face to see if there was any sexual implication. When he followed her gaze to the puddle beneath him, he decided she was being practical. He did as she asked, balled the shirt in the towel, and handed the mess back to her. His wet pants were staying put. Boxers or no boxers.

  She glanced up at his chest. “Uh, why don’t I get you another towel? I don’t own anything big enough to fit you.”

  “That would be great.”

  Kelly took away the shirt and returned moments later with a flowery beach towel. He wiped his pants the best he could, and then wrapped the towel around his shoulders.

  He followed her into the living room, enjoying the way her hips swayed. Concentrate. He forced himself into cop mode. “Tell me what Justin said—his tone, his stress level, and anything else you can remember.”

  “Would you mind sitting on the towel?” Her casual tone didn’t fool him. She was still scared.

  Kelly sat across from him and relayed what she remembered of the conversation, but some bits and pieces seem to be missing.

  “Are you sure he said his mother killed Rayne?” This didn’t fit with all the evidence.

  “Yes.”

  “And you believed him?” Derek wanted to understand Justin’s level of conviction. He wasn’t ready to take what he said at face value.

  She leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. “I don’t know. He sounded sincere. And scared.” Her lashes fluttered open. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve wanted the killer to be Justin for so long I’m blind to his cause. As a cop, I’ve yet to
see any proof.”

  “Did you believe Justin loved Rayne?” she asked, leaning forward.

  The top of her breasts peeked above her shirt and distracted him for a moment. He searched the ceiling for the answer long enough for her image to disappear. “When you love a woman, you don’t call her a slut.” His jaw clenched as a renewed rush of anger soared through him.

  Kelly’s mouth dropped open. “How do you know he said that? Did Rayne tell you?”

  “No. Mrs. Anton overheard their fight the night Rayne was killed. And speaking of which...” Kelly had had enough of bad news, but she needed to know. “Someone killed Mrs. Anton this afternoon.”

  Her face lost its color. “Ohmigod. How?” She waved a hand as if to erase her comment. “No, don’t tell me. I never met her, but I know you said she was elderly. Do you think Justin killed her?”

  His lips thinned, and he tried to squash the fury that blasted him. “I wish I knew. Mrs. Anton called the police and said Justin was next door. She’d heard on the news we were looking for him, so we know he was nearby moments before she died.”

  “Would she have let him into her house knowing he was a potential killer?”

  “I’d wondered the same thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. The woman seemed desperate for company. Plus, there was no sign of forced entry.”

  Kelly grabbed a sofa pillow and hugged the green chenille square. “Could she have confronted him about the night of Rayne’s murder? Didn’t you say she was a snoop?”

  “Quite a snoop.” A box of chocolate chip cookies sat on the coffee table. “May I?”

  “Sure. He must not have pointed a gun at her to get inside or she would have slammed the door in his face,” Kelly said.

  “Or tried to. He could have easily barged in. Here’s the thing. Given the position of the tea pot on the stove along with the discarded little packet covers, she was in the process of making tea when the perp strangled her.”

  He stuffed two small cookies into his mouth. They tasted good—almost as sweet as Kelly.

  She drew the pillow up to her chin and rested her head on the cushion. “When I’m nervous, I want something to do with my hands.” Kelly patted the pillow she was holding. “Perhaps Mrs. Anton thought she could stall Justin, hoping the police would arrive in time. After all, she’d called you guys already.”

  She had a point. “Could be, but the tea set implied a social visit.”

  “Maybe Justin wasn’t the murderer. Maybe the killer was a woman.”

  “Why? Because Mrs. Anton offered tea to this person?”

  “Because Justin planted the idea in my mind about the killer being his mom.”

  He grabbed another handful of cookies. “I don’t know. Strangulation is not the usual act of a female. At first I thought it odd she’d offer tea to Justin, but then I remembered she offered me tea when I stopped over. I had the impression she’d offer tea to a stray dog if he came around.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “Is there any way Mrs. Anton would know Justin’s mom?”

  Kelly didn’t seem able to get off the killer-mom scenario, so he went with it. “Not that I’m aware. Remember, until recently, Lilly Bladen was in Utah.”

  “Mrs. Cohen said Lilly had been gone a few months though.” Kelly shifted on the sofa. “Okay, how’s this? Maybe Lilly stopped by Mrs. Anton’s house pretending to sell something, like cosmetics or health insurance, and the gullible Mrs. Anton let her in.”

  “It’s possible.” He scanned her face. “Technically we shouldn’t be discussing this case. This information is not public knowledge, so please—”

  Kelly held up a hand. “I won’t say a word. Speaking of tea, can I get you something to drink?”

  “Anything—as long as it’s not tea.” He cracked a thin smile, and then spotted the beer bottle on the table and nodded. “If you have another beer, I could use one.”

  “Sure.” Kelly strode to the kitchen, all nervous energy and tension. She returned a moment later with his drink.

  Derek grabbed the cold bottle and took a hit. Ah, the beer was smooth. “Tell me again about the letter Justin found at his house.”

  “Like I said before, he told me it was from his mom. It said if he didn’t turn himself in for the two murders, she’d harm me.” Kelly took a long drink.

  He watched the tension build around her eyes. “I don’t like the sound of that. If Lilly Bladen really did leave a note, you can’t stay here anymore.”

  She squeezed the bottle until her fingers turned white. “You want me to leave so she won’t find me?”

  He expected nothing less than a confrontation. “Yes.”

  Her features turned rigid. “I’m not leaving my house. Besides, the word harm could mean all sorts of things.”

  He wanted to hold her, kiss her, and then shake some sense into her. “Kelly, three people are dead. He, or she, won’t stop because you’re too stubborn to hide. I don’t think harm, here, means keying your car.”

  She bit her lower lip, and his thoughts shot downward. Christ. He needed all the blood to stay in his brain.

  “I can’t just up and leave town. I have a job.”

  The desperation in her tone made him open his arms. “Come here.”

  She paused, as if debating her choice to seek comfort.

  “It’s only a hug,” he added.

  She stepped around the coffee table to the sofa and nestled in his arms. The spring scent of her freshly washed hair filled his senses, and Derek held on tight and closed his eyes. Having Kelly in his arms felt right.

  On instinct, he lowered his lips and kissed the top of her head. She looked up, and her watery eyes made his gut clench.

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  “Me too.”

  As if his spiritual guides led him, he dragged his lips from her forehead to her mouth. Her eyes squinted shut as she pressed her breasts to his chest, and all rational thought raced out.

  He wanted her to set the pace, to ease her need.

  “Oh, Derek,” she panted, and then opened her mouth.

  The invitation sent both his pulse and his dick skyward. Their tongues did the ancient ritual that brought the past colliding with the present.

  She grabbed his face and pulled him toward her. Gone was the ice princess, gone was the shaken woman, and gone was the shy girl he once knew. She acted like she had in the Utah hotel—hot, sexy, and wanton.

  Derek disengaged his arms, stood up, and then scooped her into his arms. He dipped his head and placed the lightest kiss possible on her lips, showing her he’d be gentle.

  As if he’d dumped her in an ice-cold ocean, her eyes sprang open, and her body went rigid. “Derek, I can’t.”

  He froze. “I thought—”

  “Wrong,” she finished. “It’s my fault. I started it. I’m sorry.”

  He lowered her legs to the ground and stepped away. “Me too, but it doesn’t solve your immediate problem.” Derek had no idea what had just happened, but then again, he never understood women.

  26

  Derek drove more aggressively than usual, as frustration pushed the pedal to the metal.

  Stubborn woman. It had been a dumb idea to suggest she move in with him as a way to keep her safe. Once she pulled out of his embrace, Derek knew his chances of convincing her would fall on deaf ears.

  Sure, Kelly said she’d think about the new arrangement, but he knew better. Yes, she admitted she wanted the protection, but staying with Derek brought back too many memories.

  Bullshit.

  He might as well forget about the whole arrangement. Once Kelly Rutland set her mind to doing something, it was as good as done.

  It didn’t matter that he promised to sleep on the sofa and let her have the bedroom. He knew what her problem was. He’d spooked her back in Utah when his damn spirit guides had taken him. Now she wanted as little to do with him on a personal level as possible. For once he wished she’d see him as a police officer and not as a former lover who had
paranormal issues.

  He slapped the wheel. Stupid, stupid. He should have insisted she pack immediately, but the hands on the hips thing she did so well and the squaring of her shoulders told him that anything short of hoisting her over his shoulder wasn’t going to get her out of her house.

  At least she let him check that all of the doors and windows were locked and the were shades drawn. He’d debated called Seinkievitz and asking him to stand watch, but if Kelly spotted him, she’d never speak to him again.

  Shit.

  If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

  Derek could only hope in time Kelly would see reason. For now he needed to check on his dad and warn him a nutcase was on the loose. Thank goodness Billy would be staying there for the weekend. That would kill two birds at once, so to speak. While he was there, Derek might as well set a time for them to pack up Rayne’s house too. Delaying any longer would only cause more grief.

  Then there was the discussion about where Billy would live once school let out. Did he want to he continue going to the military academy or move in with Derek and attend public school? Or did he prefer staying with his grandfather? His fingers clenched the wheel just thinking about that dreaded the confrontation.

  Derek turned down his dad’s road. The front porch light was burned out, but even in the dim moonlight, he could see the two missing shutters. The place probably could do with a new roof too. As soon as he was free, he’d help his dad fix up the house.

  Guilt plowed through him. Derek had made that promise before and hadn’t followed through. He made a vow right then and there to reconnect with his father no matter what happened with his caseload.

  After he parked, Derek rushed up to the house and knocked. “Dad?” Derek twisted the knob. It was unlocked, and a fresh flush of frustration poured into his gut.

  “Coming.” His father sounded weak.

  Derek pushed open the door. One low-watt bulb burned in the hall. The T.V. was blaring from the living room and the smell of...bleach? nearly knocked him over. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Derek, what brings you here?”

  Worry laced the planes on his dad’s face. His color was lighter than usual, but Derek decided he’d wait before he’d address his father’s health.