Out of Eden

by Beth Ciotta

  “You won’t end up an old maid, Kylie.”

  “But I won’t end up with you or at least not married to you because you’re not husband material. So you say.” She slapped her palm to her forehead. “I can’t believe I said that. Too much wine.” She set aside the glass. “I should stick to beer. I never speak out of turn when I drink beer.”

  He just smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’d rather know your mind than have to guess.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m thinking I really enjoyed this night.”

  “Me, too.”

  “And that, since we click, maybe we should click a little more. No promises. No expectations. Just live for now and see where it takes us.”

  “Faye was wrong,” he said with a raised brow. “You’re a risk-taker.”

  She started to smile, then worried he might follow up with a brush-off.

  Jack hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. They both held silent for a while, assessing, she assumed, how this potential relationship fit into their shaky lives. It was the most awkward moment in the evening.

  Jack spoke first. “There’s this game,” he said, plucking two fortune cookies from the coffee table. “You read your fortune and end it with—”

  “I know the game.” Heart lighter, Kylie snitched a cookie and cracked it open. She pulled out her fortune and read. “There is a true and sincere friendship between you—in bed.”

  “Nice.” Jack cracked his cookie, grinned. “You shall seek out new adventures—in bed.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You made that up.”

  He showed her the fortune.

  “Wow.”

  “Who are we to fight destiny?”

  Kylie shifted and straddled Jack’s lap. She wiggled against his erection and quirked a wicked smile. “This time I get to be the dominant one.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  JACK WAS ASLEEP WHEN his cell phone rang. He hadn’t slept this soundly in years. It took a few seconds to shake off the haze. He disentangled himself from Kylie, smiling when she groaned and rolled back into him, still very much asleep. He nabbed his cell from the nightstand and answered softly.

  “It’s Jessica,” the voice on the other end responded. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re…well, busy, but, this is an emergency. I think. Maybe. I’m not sure. But…I need you.”

  Words he never thought he’d hear from his sister chilled him to the bone.

  “Talk to me.” Jack rolled out of bed, ignored his sweats and tugged on his dress jeans.

  Kylie stirred and pinned him with dazed, worried eyes.

  He shushed her with a raised hand and focused on his sister’s shaky words.

  “I needed some things from the house, my…Frank’s house,” she clarified. “I loaded Madeline and Shy into the SUV. We drove over and, like always, I parked in back. Told Madeline to stay in the car while I ran inside only…the back door was ajar. I’m sure it was locked when I left. I think…I think someone broke in.”

  “Tell me you’re not inside.”

  “Give me some credit. What if they’re still in there?”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Driving Madeline and Shy over to Mrs. Carmichael’s.”

  “Good. Stay with them.” He sat on the bed and jammed his feet into his shoes. What the fuck?

  Kylie moved against him, massaged his shoulders.

  He reached up and squeezed her hand, noting her calm and kindness. “I’m on my way,” he told Jessie. “But I’m calling Officer Anderson. He’s ten minutes closer.”

  “No. No cops. I mean, other than you. Please,” she pleaded. “I don’t want people snooping in the house.”

  “Jessie—”

  “I mean it, Jack. Please.”

  Her pleading got to him. Tore at him. “All right. But stay at Mrs. Carmichael’s until I call you.”

  “Thank you, Jack.”

  She hung up and Jack clipped his cell to his belt.

  “What is it?” Kylie asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go.” He brushed a quick kiss across her mouth. “I’ll call you later. Lock the door behind me.”

  He was buckled inside the Aspen before he realized he’d probably worried Kylie more by shutting her out. He’d done the same thing with his ex. Shut her out. It was preferable to subjecting her to his seedy, dangerous world. It had also pushed her away.

  “Damn.”

  Old habits die hard. Although he wasn’t sure this was a habit he could or even wanted to break. Protecting the people he cared about came naturally. He cared about Kylie. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was in love, but he was sure as hell infatuated.

  Intoxicated.

  Jack shook off the lingering effects of the night before. He focused on his sister’s potential crisis and stepped on the gas.

  It was a beautiful September morning, sunny with mild temps in the low sixties, yet Jack’s mood turned more grim with each passing mile. Something had driven Jessie out of that house and now someone had broken in? He suspected Frank was at the bottom of this. He mulled over the possibilities, cursed as he neared the Cortez’s upscale home. The Escalade parked across the street belonged to Jessie. What the hell?

  He parked a few feet behind, relaxed a little when he saw her sitting in the driver’s seat. At least she wasn’t inside. Jaw clenched, he approached and knocked.

  She yelped, then lowered the window. “You scared the pee out of me.”

  “I told you to stay at Mrs. Carmichael’s.”

  “Waiting for a phone call from Deputy Ziffel informing me you’d been shot or stabbed or bludgeoned, and bled to death because no one was there to help you?” She frowned. “No, thank you.”

  “I’m touched you care.”

  “Of course I care.” She blew out an anxious breath. “After dropping off Madeline and the dog, I doubled back. I couldn’t bear the thought of you going in alone without some sort of backup. At least I can call for help if you get into trouble. At least… Would you please stop smiling?”

  “First you ask for my help. Now you’re actually worried about me. Does my heart good, little sister.”

  She glowered. “How can you be so calm?”

  “Comes with the job. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to find anyone in there. If someone did break in, probably happened in the middle of the night.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two-story, fourteen-room house—a small mansion by most of Eden’s standards. “Anything of particular value in there?”

  “Try everything. We only bought the best.”

  “Frank keep money in the house?”

  “There’s a safe in his office, but I assume he cleared it out when he left.”

  Jack nodded. “Stay in the car. I mean it.”

  “Wait! Do you have a gun?”

  He hitched back his leather jacket to give her a glimpse of his holstered piece.

  “That’s something, I guess.”

  “Stay here,” he repeated, then angled toward the house. Following standard procedure, he entered the premises, then swept the entire house, upstairs and down. Certain he was alone, he dialed Jessie.

  She answered midring. “Are you okay?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “Whoever was here is gone. Come in through the back. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  In the ten seconds it took her to comply, he pondered the situation. “I need to protect and preserve the scene,” he said when she crept over the threshold. “Don’t touch anything.”

  “The scene? As in crime scene? What am I in for, Jack?” Hands balled, she hugged herself, then followed him through the kitchen and dining area. When they passed the recreation room stuffed with a myriad of electronics, she spoke. “It doesn’t look like anything’s missing.”

  “I don’t think we’re dealing with a straight-ahead burglary,” Jack said, tugging a pair of latex gloves from his pocket. “I think it was personal and directed at
Frank. Brace yourself.”

  He stepped into Frank’s home office, grasping Jessie’s elbow as she moved in alongside. He wasn’t surprised when she swayed. The devastation was extensive. Bookcases overturned, stuffing ripped from the leather sofa. It looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to Frank’s computer monitor and hard-drive tower.

  “My God, Jack.”

  “Someone was pissed and they were looking for something. Where’s the safe?”

  “In that closet, behind the stack of file boxes.”

  Not wanting his own fingerprints in the mix, Jack pulled on the thin gloves. He stepped over strewn books and broken knick-knacks and opened the door. “The safe’s locked,” he called out. “Maybe they cracked it then tidied up. Do you know the combination?”

  “No. I’m sorry. I never asked. It was Frank’s private safe. He said it was for sensitive case files. Now I’m wondering…”

  Jack stepped out and noted his sister’s crimson face. “What?”

  She averted her gaze. “Never mind.”

  “Any idea what they were looking for?”

  She shook her head.

  “Frank make any enemies of late that you know of?” he persisted.

  She massaged her temples. “I don’t suppose he’s popular with the husbands of the wives he had affairs with. That’s if the husbands found out. Frank was amazingly discreet. He fooled me for years.” She met his gaze. “But not you. You never liked Frank to begin with.”

  “The man was too likable,” he said. “I didn’t trust that. Plus, I had a gut feeling.”

  “You tried to warn me.”

  “I tried to bully you into not marrying him. I handled the situation badly, Jessie. I wish I’d had a better perspective.”

  “Why did you punch Frank on my wedding day?” she blurted.

  “Why don’t we hold off on that?” She had enough to deal with, and he needed to grab his latent-print kit and camera from the back of the Aspen.

  “I’d been mingling with our guests, wondering about Frank. He’d been gone quite a while. I was worried, so I went looking,” she said, intent on reliving that moment. “I found him in the garden nursing a bloody nose. He said you punched him. Said you were an interfering asshole. When I confronted you, you dodged the issue. Because of that moment, Jack, because I was blinded by love, I cut you out of my life.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Please. I have to know.”

  “I caught him making out with Jenny Franklin in the wine cellar.”

  “During our wedding reception?” she squeaked.

  Uncomfortable, Jack eased his sister back into the hall, toward the spacious, immaculate living room. “It was pretty hot and heavy. Jenny was obviously drunk and ran off in tears. I rammed my fist into Frank’s face before he got a word out. Though after, he claimed that he, too, was drunk. Said it had never happened before and never would again. I didn’t believe him, but I wanted to. For your sake.”

  “The man I loved to distraction for thirteen years cheated on me on our wedding day. Our wedding day.” The first tear fell. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would you have believed me?”

  She closed her eyes, sighed. “No.”

  Jack touched her arm. “Jessie, I need to call this in.”

  “No! Please. Can’t we just, I don’t know, look into this privately or maybe ignore it?”

  “A crime’s been committed. Let me do my job, Jess.”

  “But I don’t want people snooping around here. I don’t want them to know…” She broke off, swiped away tears.

  “Why did you show up at my house in the middle of the night?” Jack asked in a tender voice. “What spooked you?”

  “It’s awful, Jack. Dark and ugly and…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t. I can’t talk about it. But, I’ll show you. Just…promise you won’t make this public.”

  How could he promise without knowing what he was dealing with? “I need you to trust me, Jess. Trust that I’ll do the right thing.”

  She quirked a shaky smile. “You always do the right thing. I used to resent you for that.” Stiff-backed, she climbed the stairs.

  Jack stayed close behind.

  She visibly trembled as she entered her bedroom. She looked everywhere but at the bed. The bed she’d shared with Frank. “Our whole marriage was a lie,” she rasped. “There was a side to him I never knew, a side beyond the affairs. A dark side.” She pointed to her walk-in closet. “In there, on the floor. They fell out of a suitcase when I accidentally knocked it from the shelf. After that I…I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t know what else he’d hidden or where. I didn’t want Madeline to trip upon…any other evidence.”

  Jack moved into the closet. He saw several magazines shoved or kicked into the corner. Intrigued, he kneeled and sorted through the titles. “Shit.”

  Like most men, he’d grown up admiring Playboy centerfolds and indulging in occasional skin flicks with inane titles like Making Mona Moan. But he was a Boy Scout compared to Frank. His brother-in-law was obsessed with extreme hardcore porn. Raunchy magazines featuring women on women, men on men, threesomes, underage girls, orgies—all sadistic.

  Between this revelation, his multiple affairs and the break-in, no wonder Jessie was a basket case.

  “I didn’t know about his…obsession. He never hinted or slipped or…I’m not a prude, Jack, but, if I’d known, I’m not sure I could have tolerated it. Those pictures, the stories, they’re…”

  “Twisted.” He skimmed the contents. Jesus.

  “I’m wondering now…what if he has sex toys or illicit videos locked in that safe,” Jessie said in a choked voice. “And what if he hid things throughout the house? I couldn’t chance Madeline finding…. We couldn’t stay here…I hope you understand,” she said on a rush of sobs. “I’m an idiot. A fool. Please don’t tell.”

  Heartbroken and furious, Jack removed the latex gloves, left the closet and pulled his sister into his arms. “Listen to me, Jess. Trust me. It’ll be all right,” he said in a gentle voice. “I promise.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  KYLIE SIPPED HOT GREEN TEA and willed her leg to stop bouncing. Even a short session of meditation in her Zen Garden hadn’t helped. The morning hadn’t gone exactly as planned. After a late and exhausting night, they’d been jarred awake by Jack’s ringing cell. Kylie had sensed an emergency right away. She told herself not to take offense because Jack had taken off like a blur—no explanation. Obviously, his sister was in trouble. God knew she’d go running if Spenser ever needed her, not that that was likely, still…

  Whatever the trouble, she hoped it wasn’t serious. She hoped the woman was exaggerating her situation as she was prone to do. Jessica Lynn had a way of stealing, no, demanding the spotlight. On the other hand, it was hard to think ungracious thoughts about a person who’d saved her from an uncomfortable discussion with Max and gang. A person who’d tried to make up for past bad behavior.

  Kylie sipped tea, ate granola cereal and thought positive. Whatever the problem, Jack would solve it. She had complete faith in the man’s abilities to save the day. She’d witnessed many incidents, heard many stories. The more she reflected on his stellar character and impressive accomplishments, the more she wondered what he saw in her. She wasn’t worldly or exciting or jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She was Kylie McGraw, manager of a shoe store. A woman whose ambition stopped at carrying on her family’s legacy. Fitting the needs of those in need of shoes.

  “No promises. No expectations. Just live for now and see where it takes us.”

  Right.

  She repeated that notion three times, declaring it today’s affirmation. No matter what, she’d always have last night. But she sure as heck wanted more.

  If it weren’t for the leftover Chinese takeout in her fridge and her achy muscles, she would have chalked up the evening to a fantastic dream. She’d known Jack all her life, but as her brother’s best friend and the hunky fantasy man she lusted after. Last ni
ght she’d gotten to know him as a real person and a lover. Their dynamics had shifted, and even though she was thrilled, she wasn’t secure in her new reality. She kept thinking about how everything she’d “changed” of late had gone wrong. Except for the renovations to the store. Thanks to Travis, those had turned out better than she’d hoped. Of course, that could still bomb, too. What if she ran off McGraw’s regulars because they thought the store was too trendy? What if she couldn’t woo the Garden Club elite with the designer heels she’d ordered? What if the kids and tourists snubbed her Bada-Bling! imports?

  Travis would tell her to relax and have faith. She was really looking forward to seeing him this afternoon. She knew his work was pretty much done, but she still needed to write him a check and she’d bought a special thank-you card. She hoped their new friendship wouldn’t fizzle when he went back to work at Hank’s Hardware. Even though she knew so little about Travis, she knew enough to peg him as a good soul. A hurting soul. Maybe she could help him through the pain of losing his wife and chase away whatever demons haunted him. She suspected he’d do the same for her. Now, if only Jack and Faye would warm to him. She’d have to work on that.

  Kylie glanced at the phone, sighed. “As if staring will make that thing ring.” Jack had promised to call. She was on pins and needles. Was he all right? Was Jessica all right?

  Needing a distraction, she fired up her laptop. She sipped tea, willed her bouncing leg still…again. She weeded out junk mail, checked the status of orders. Mostly everything was in. The Bada-Bling! sneakers would arrive tomorrow. The designer heels had arrived yesterday, just before she’d locked up to prepare for her date with Jack. She’d spend today hauling out the previous stock she’d stashed in the storeroom and arranging it on her new shelves alongside special displays for the new shipment of quirky shoes and sophisticated heels. But she didn’t want to leave until Jack called.