Identity--A Tale of Murder, Mystery and Romance

by H. D. Thomson

  They’d been in their hotel room less than fifteen minutes.

  After she fled the Pharaoh and rushed over to Jamie’s apartment, she’d found Tyler safe, unaware and unharmed. But she hadn’t relaxed, not with a jumble of scenarios on what to do next running inside her head, and she sure as hell wasn’t relaxed now with someone pounding on her door.

  “Ms. Summers?” a male voice called from the hall outside.

  Standing by her own bed, Skye dropped the shirt into her open duffle bag and kicked off her high-heeled shoes. She hadn’t even had the chance to change out of her dress and into some jeans. “Tyler, get in the bathroom.”

  He blinked and glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know yet. Just get in the bathroom to be safe.” Bare feet silent on the carpeted floor, she edged away from the bed.

  “Mom. We’re fine.”

  “Tyler. Now.”

  He must have recognized the seriousness of the situation from her low, clipped voice, because he scrambled off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. After the door closed and the lock clicked into place, Skye turned off the television. The room’s sudden silence itched across her spine.

  Breath catching roughly against her throat, she moved to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Security.”

  She peered through the door’s viewfinder. A clean-shaven man in a business suit stood in the hall. Nothing about him looked familiar. “What do you want?”

  “Can you step out into the hall please?”

  Damn it. This wasn’t looking good. “I’d rather not.”

  “Ms. Summers, I don’t think you realize how grave this situation is. I don’t want to involve the police, but I will if I have to.”

  Security or liar. Either way, he looked like he didn’t intend to move from the door.

  She flexed her fingers, then rubbed her damp palms against her silk-clad hips. Possibly just one man. If he tried anything, she could take him. Still, the knowledge didn’t slow her heart rate as she gripped the deadbolt and snapped it open.

  She took in one slow, soothing breath and exhaled in a quick rush. Next, she clutched the doorknob and twisted. Legs braced, heart thumping, she swung open the door. All her energy focused on the man in front of her. One suspicious move and she’d slam him against the wall with her telekinesis.

  When he didn’t aim a fist to her face or point a gun at her chest, she glanced up and down the hall for any others.

  Empty.

  For now.

  Stuffed into a suit one size too small, the man—no, more like pro-wrestler look-a-like—stared at her with cold eyes. “You’re going to have to leave the premises.”

  Shifting, she gripped the door jamb with rigid hand and remained in the threshold, while the open door butted up against her back. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’ve had security cameras watching your activity on the casino floor.”

  Dread, bitter and foul tasting, coated her mouth. “Why?”

  “We believe you’re using a cell phone or some type of device to trigger the roulette wheel and dice.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  Then Skye remembered Jay. He must have asked the hotel’s security questions about her. Still, Jay knew how to get information without making waves. It didn’t make sense—

  Bishop.

  The reason for getting singled out had to be because of Bishop. Who else but him? He knew someone in security. He’d asked questions, uncovered her alias and alerted security a second time. The hotel must have been watching her for days. Management would be crazy not to when two different men started asking questions about some woman gambling and residing in their hotel.

  Pressure tightened across her chest. “Did David Bishop have anything to with this?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss this with you.” But with the mention of Bishop’s name, she saw the man’s eyes flicker.

  “He did, didn’t he?”

  “Management wants you to vacate the building and surrounding property within the hour.”

  “And what if I don’t?”

  His overly large forehead creased into a frown. “We haven’t pursued why you’re using an assumed name, but if you decide to cause any problems, we might just have to do that.”

  “So you’re threatening me?”

  “Now look here, Ms. Summers. We don’t have to explain anything to you. The hotel wants you out of here, and if you decide to fight us on—”

  “Mom?”

  Glancing over a shoulder, she found her son several feet behind her. He stood in his stocking feet, his hands balled into fists at his side, uneasiness, and fear glittering in his eyes. He looked far too vulnerable. He didn’t deserve the deck he’d been dealt.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Skye smiled with difficulty. “Nothing serious. At least nothing that can’t be fixed.” She turned back to the security guard as her son snaked an arm around her middle. At Tyler’s protective gesture, she straightened and squeezed his hand pressed against her side. “We’ll be out in an hour.”

  After she closed the door, Tyler let go of her waist and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Something’s wrong. You can tell me now he’s gone.”

  She met Tyler’s solemn gaze, and the pressure against her chest tightened into a dull ache. Would there ever be a day when she didn’t disappoint Tyler? “We just have to find another place to live.”

  He nodded. No anger. No surprise. He picked up his portable game player from the bed and pulled his duffle bag from the closet. He’d been through this drill before.

  Sighing with resignation, she grabbed more clothes from one of the dresser drawers to stuff in her own bag. She’d planned on leaving the Pharaoh after the incident with the roulette wheel, but she hadn’t expected to be thrown off the premises. She could thank Bishop for that.

  Maybe she’d do just that.

  ~~*~~

  Less than an hour later, Skye stood in the middle of the entryway to Bishop’s home and hit the doorbell with a thumb. She hit the button again. Then thinking that might not be enough to get him out of bed, she pressed down again with a trembling hand.

  The porch light glared from above, spotlighting her figure for anyone to see. Thank God, a security gate separated them and Bishop’s house from the general public. She’d also checked numerous times on the way here for a tail and hadn’t found any, but then that might not mean much. Bishop had managed to follow her pretty well without her knowledge, and he’d been a novice.

  The shakes had soon started after she’d dumped their luggage into the back of the pickup and pulled out of the parking lot of the Pharaoh. Security could have easily been someone far more dangerous, like the person playing mind games at the roulette table earlier that day.

  The door swung open. Braced on long, muscled legs with a smattering of hair, Bishop stood in the doorway. A pair of ragged shorts rode low on his hips. Nothing else covered his chiseled abs and chest. His half-naked body and close proximity snapped off the air momentarily going into her lungs. Her mind floundered for words.

  He blinked against the light, then frowned. “How did you... You must have remembered the security code.” He rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “Why are you here?”

  “I need a place to stay.”

  His face turned impassive. “So what does that have to do with me?”

  “Since you’re the reason why I was kicked out of the Pharaoh, I think it’s more than fair that you give me a room for my son and me.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the door jamb and arched a brow. “Oh, no. There’s no way in hell you’re staying here.”

  “Tough.”

  Thank God the word came out sounding ruthless instead of desperate. She didn’t dare show Bishop any weakness, though right now her frayed emotions were close to shredding into a pile of rags.

  Staying at another casino wasn’t an option. Whoever had watched her at
the roulette wheel would expect her to show up somewhere on the strip. And even if she did enter another casino, she’d be kicked out. Word would be already out about her illegally working the tables.

  David stepped out of the house and closed the door. “What are you going to do? Camp out in my front yard? I don’t think so.”

  “I have no intention of doing anything on your ‘front yard’. Two of your rooms will do nicely. My God, you’ve got enough space in there for several families. An adult and one child aren’t going to make much of a difference.” Bishop owed her something by prying into her life and messing with it to the point where he’d inadvertently gotten her kicked out.

  She glanced over her shoulder where the driveway lights illuminated her pickup. Even though shadows clung to the cab’s interior, she made out the top of Tyler’s head in the passenger seat. Her son meant everything to her. He needed a safe place right now. The security alone here would be worth the price of staying in a house with an angry owner.

  Skye turned back around to find Bishop shaking his head. “Sorry. You’ve managed to take care of yourself and your son all these years. You can keep on doing it without my help.”

  The idea of driving back out into the night to some unknown destination sent a wave of panic through her body. It wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. “I don’t think you understand. If it wasn’t for you, we’d still be at the Pharaoh.” A lie, but he didn’t need to know that she’d been ready to flee anyway. “Do you have any idea how my son must have felt when hotel security demanded we leave?”

  “I had nothing to do with you being evicted.”

  “How can you say that?” Finding her voice rising in accusation, she lowered it. Panicking wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “You said yourself that you knew someone in security at the hotel. If you’d kept your questions to yourself and not stuck your nose into my business, we’d be fine.”

  “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand.” He stepped toward her until his dark, brown gaze locked with hers and the heat radiating from his body clung to her own. “I just wanted to find out who the hell you were.” Sincerity flashed in his eyes and the hard lines of his face softened. “I had no intention of getting you kicked out of the hotel. That’s all on you. If you hadn’t lied about your name and used more than luck at the gaming troubles, you wouldn’t be in the trouble you are in now. I just happened to accidentally hurry things along.”

  “Happened? Oh, I don’t think so.” Skye wasn’t about to back down now. She stepped toward him until her breath brushed against his jaw and neck. “I understand fully. You’re the one that doesn’t get it.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Simple really. If you don’t let us stay here, then something’s going to go wrong with your magic show.”

  He tensed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Skye lifted her lips into a fake smile. “I’ll mess with your performance. When your retriever floats in the air to the right, I’ll make sure he floats to the left. If something disappears, I’ll make it reappear. It’s called telekinesis, remember?” Sarcasm dripped from her last few words. “Can you imagine what type of chaos I can create?”

  All lies, but Bishop didn’t know that. She was counting on it. She lifted her chin and stared back, proud she didn’t flinch or step away from the animosity radiating from his male bulk. But her composure was so close to disintegrating. For the last several months she’d had to deal with all the running and looking behind her shoulder and worrying about Tyler. Add the materialization of a new threat—a person with the same telekinetic powers playing a sick game of roulette—and they all threatened to smash her fake bravado.

  “Shit! You’re crazy. Do you know that?” David squeezed his hands into fists at his sides as if to stop himself from wrapping them around her throat, while a muscle pulsed by the corner of his jaw. “Why the hell me? What makes you think you can trust me?”

  “I can’t.” She shrugged a shoulder. She wanted to. God knows she wanted that. “But I trust you more than anyone else. It’s obvious you don’t know what’s going on. For one, you’re a bad actor, and for another, if you’d wanted me dead or incapacitated, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”

  ~~*~~

  David glared at her, searching for signs of weakness or uncertainty, but her raised chin, stormy eyes and grim expression didn’t give anything away. The woman was drama with a capital D and probably pig-headed enough to follow through on the threat. A threat he couldn’t afford to dismiss.

  He’d wanted her close, but not this damn close. She’d be under the same roof, down the hall, near naked. With her underfoot, she might be liable to dig into his past and anything else she found an interest in when it came to his life.

  By being in the same house, he didn’t think he had the self-control to keep off her even if he wanted to. To hell with his self-control. If she wanted to force herself into his house by blackmail, then he’d retaliate. Seduction sounded like the perfect way to strike back. Devious, yes. But he’d never admitted to being some moral citizen above reproach. He’d have her under him squirming with passion and spilling all her secrets.

  He grunted. “You win. For now.” When the truck door groaned open, he glanced over her shoulder and found her son stepping onto the driveway. Damn, but for one crazy minute, he’d forgotten about the boy. Seduction might be a whole hell of a lot harder than he’d first thought. “Go get your son and your stuff.”

  He opened the door and allowed Dozer and Maggie to slip outside. Everyone needed to get used to each other if they were going to reside under the same roof. When the boy came around the truck and started walking up the drive, grudgingly David stepped down the stairs with both dogs to greet him. He had to remember the kid was innocent. Skye deserved his anger, but the boy didn’t.

  A high whine emitted from Dozer.

  “Heel.”

  Tail wiping the cement, Dozer sat, but quivered in obvious anticipation, while Maggie sank down on her haunches beside the other retriever. David didn’t want to scare the kid with two large dogs battling for attention.

  When the boy, who lurched forward from the weight of his duffle bag, stumbled to the stairs, David smiled and reached for the bag. “It looks like you could use some help.”

  The boy clutched the bag and veered away from David’s hand. Distrust and something old and weary glittered in his eyes, while the porch’s light magnified the boy’s pallor. David’s smile congealed. What fun. He’d just invited one of the Munster kids from that old sitcom into his house.

  Skye caught up to her son with her own, huge, duffle bag. Unlike the boy, she hefted the thing as if it didn’t weigh much more than a couple of grapefruit. He decided to store that bit of information in his brain for any future altercation that might crop up.

  Skye paused to scratch behind Maggie’s ear. “Hey, girl.” She grinned up at David. “Which is this one again?”

  At her unexpected and genuine smile, David, to his horror, found himself scrambling for a coherent reply. “Maggie. They’re both harmless.” He said the last for the boy, who reached over and slid a tentative hand across Dozer’s crown.

  “He’s so soft,” the boy murmured in awe. “Does he do any tricks?”

  “A few.”

  Just then Dozer decided to drop and roll, his act of playing dead ruined by the rapid swish of his tail.

  “I like him.” When he reached down to scratch the dog’s belly, the bag knocked against the boy’s ankle and plopped onto the ground.

  “Come on, Ty. You’ll have time to play with him inside.” She turned to David and arched a brow. “Where to?”

  Grunting, David pivoted and climbed the shallow stairs and walked into the house.

  In the entryway, David heard, “Holy cow, Mom, look at that,” behind his back. He knew Tyler referred to the stained-glass roof of the entrance above them, but he didn’t pause as he led them down the hall and in the opposite direction from his bedroom
. He didn’t dare have Skye anywhere near him with the boy under the same roof. Hell, when it came to her, he had little self-control and was liable be on her like a rutting dog, angry or not.

  He stopped at the doorway to one of the guest bedrooms. “There’s an adjoining bathroom to the right. From the bathroom, there’s another bedroom, which Tyler can use. Kitchen’s down the hall from where we came from and also on the right.”

  As she followed her son into the bedroom, the air around him whispered with her distinct fragrance of lavender and another elusive scent. Trying to distinguish the smell, he caught himself closing his eyes and quickly snapped them open.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, before escaping to the other section of the house. Other than his father, David never had anyone over for any length of time, never mind a mother and her son.

  Shit.

  He stalked through the house and into his bedroom. He didn’t try to go back to bed, knowing the futility of getting any sleep. Instead, he changed into a swimsuit and let himself outside. But even when he did an hour of laps, he didn’t feel tired. After rubbing himself down with a plush towel and tossing it on a lounge chair, he re-entered the house but didn’t bother with a light. Moonlight guided him through the rooms and into the kitchen and glistened off the chrome appliances. A shot of brandy might do something.

  Brandy bottle in hand, David closed the cabinet door and turned to find a dark silhouette of someone else in the kitchen with him.

  Chapter 10

  Heart thundering, David fumbled with the bottle in his hands and somehow managing to catch it around the neck before banging it on the counter. “Shit! What are you doing here?”

  “I just came in for a glass of water.” Sudden light flooded the room, and Skye stepped away from the kitchen switch. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t.” David blinked to adjust his gaze.

  Her eyebrow arched upward as she stepped further into the kitchen and ran a finger along the edge of the island made of cherry cabinets and black granite countertops.