She nodded.
"Let's go, then." He held out his hand to her, and she took it. Something about her made him think of walking with her like this in ten years or twenty. On the walk down the slope to the lodge, he reminded himself he was no Boy Scout who could be trusted. As easily as she seemed to give her trust, he wanted it, craved it, in fact. His need for her trust, however, didn't change the essential fact. He was the last man she should give her trust to.
He deliberately counted his reminders that he wasn't the man for any woman, not long-term. The beatings his father regularly, unpredictably gave his mother. The jail time his oldest brother had served for beating his wife. The restraining order against his middle brother for the same reason. Their flaw, and his.
At her room, she unlocked the door, and they went inside. The first thing Gray noticed was that the scent he associated with her was more pronounced, soft, feminine, elusive.
"Listen," Audrey said, almost in a whisper. "It's as though it knows I'm here. After I'm in here a minute or two, then I hear it. At first, I thought it was just—" She laughed, her voice brittle. "Just my imagination."
Gray sat down on the edge of the bed, and after a scant moment, Audrey sat down, as well, leaving a two-foot space between them.
Then he heard them. They ebbed, then flowed, hushed, whispery moans much like the ones he heard nightly. Suddenly, Audrey grasped his hand and glanced at him, her eyes wide.
Come. The summons was nearly lost within the mournful draft. Audrey. Come to me.
The hair rose on the back of Gray's neck, and he touched Audrey's cheek in reassurance. "I hear it."
He stood and moved across the room, looking for the source of the whispered moans, which seemed to be coming from the fireplace. Since the damper on the chimney was open, that made certain sense, but if any cold air brushed over the ashes in the fireplace, he couldn't feel it.
"What's behind the panel?" Audrey asked.
Gray raised his eyes to the ornate carved panel above the fireplace. "If it's like most of the others, only storage," he said. "Many of the original rooms of the hacienda had them. According to Richard, some used to lead to hidden passageways." Gray glanced over his shoulder at her. "A way to spy on guests and wives suspected of being unfaithful."
"Lovely," she murmured. "I kept feeling like I was being watched. What's happened to the passageways?"
"I don't know. Some might still be around." He grasped the panel door. "This one is a cubbyhole for storage, though, if it's like the one in my room."
He pulled, expecting the panel to swing open. It did not. With sensitive fingertips, he traced the face of the panel. An instant later, he discovered it had been nailed shut.
Taking the chisel out of his back pocket, he gently pried the panel away from the wall. With the nails loosened, the panel swung open on its hinges.
A square speaker about three inches wide sat on the bottom shelf. Gray swore.
"What is it?" Audrey asked from his side.
He moved to let her look even as he took note of the tiny, neat hole drilled in the back of the wall. Through it ran a black wire connected to the speaker. Confirming his hunch, the whispered summons came out of the speaker.
"Audrey. Come."
She remained silent a long moment before she cleared her throat and looked at him.
"If somebody is trying to scare me," she said, "they're doing a dandy job."
She began to pace, and Gray recognized the onset of an adrenaline rush in her.
"This had to be planned, you know. And last night, Hawk didn't act like he even knew where I was supposed to stay." She pointed at the speaker. "That thing called my name, so this room is where I was supposed to be, isn't it?" She went back to the cubbyhole and yanked on the cord connected to the back of the speaker. "Where does this lead to, anyway?"
"My room," Gray said.
Audrey's face lost all expression, and Gray watched her, waiting for her to jump to the obvious conclusion.
"Well," she finally said, "if you had known we were going to find something that implicated you, you wouldn't have been so eager to help me figure out where the whispers were coming from."
He hadn't been the recipient of that kind of faith in a long, long time. It felt good. And the sooner she realized her trust was misplaced, the better.
"Or maybe it's a ruse to make you think you can trust me," he responded.
She smiled faintly. "After you told me not to trust anyone, not even you? If you want me to think you're not trustworthy, you shouldn't have offered to see if you can figure out what's the matter with my car and you shouldn't have agreed to listen to these sounds that have been driving me crazy." Or kissed me so sweetly, she silently added. She nodded toward the wall. "Let's go find out what's on the other end of this wire."
They left her room and entered Gray's.
Audrey noted the decor was much like that of the room she was staying in. Men's toiletries were scattered over the dresser, but the room was otherwise neat. Gray opened the closet door, pushed aside the clothes and peered inside. He snagged a flashlight off the nightstand next to the bed, pushed on the switch and aimed the beam of light inside the closet.
As she had suspected it would, the wire trailed up to the ceiling, where it disappeared through another hole. "At least I know there is a reason for hearing things. What next?"
"We can climb into the attic and see where the wire goes, or we can take our best guess."
"I don't suppose we're talking grandma's attic, complete with steamer trunks and ancient treasures."
"Were talking tight, dark, dusty and full of mice."
She shuddered. "Lovely. So, now we take our best guess and search the lodge, right?"
"Sure you want to do this?" Gray asked, thinking the stakes had been raised. His cousin's careless threats no longer seemed so casual.
Audrey glanced at Gray, then nodded. "I deal in facts and figures. I need to make sense of this."
Gray caught her hand. "You might not like what you find out."
"Are you trying to scare me?"
"Maybe," he admitted. "For your own good."
She nodded. "Even though I'm not supposed to trust you."
He stared at her a moment without answering.
"I'm not a quitter," she said. "Let's find out where this wire goes."
Gray studied her a moment, all his instincts on full alert. He wanted to find the transmitter without involving her. He wanted her where he knew she'd be safe. Which was nowhere on the ranch.
"How about I look for you?"
"How about we do it together?" she countered. "C'mon, what's the worst that could happen?"
She couldn't imagine, Gray thought, or she wouldn't have asked.
"There's a big key ring in the lap drawer of Richard's desk," she said. "Do you suppose it would have the keys we need?"
"To everything except his quarters."
"I'll go get them."
She slipped out of the room before he could stop her. Gray followed her down the hall, listening to the patter of her quick footfalls as she turned the corner and vanished. Seconds later, she appeared in the hallway and held up the keys.
They methodically searched, working their way up the hall toward the center of the lodge. A half hour later, they had nothing to show for their efforts.
"Where next?" Audrey asked where the halls intersected.
"Laundry room and linen closet are that way," Gray answered, pointing. "Richard's quarters down there. Let's assume for a minute that Richard put the speaker in your room."
"He's my favorite suspect," she murmured dryly.
"He wouldn't want someone else to stumble across the transmitter."
"That eliminates the laundry room and linen closet."
"Except it's a direct shot, and nobody's around except Hawk and Mary. Since the lodge is closed…"
"Then let's take a look."
Gray opened the laundry room, and again their search was futile. They moved on to
the linen closet, which was unlike any Audrey had ever seen. The room was an odd shape. Two sides were shelves copiously filled with bedding and towels. An ornate carved panel similar to the one in Audrey's room was at the far end. However, this one was door-size, held shut by a crossbar. Audrey removed the crossbar, pulled open the door, the hinges nearly silent.
"Looks like no one has been in there in a hundred years," Gray said from behind her.
"Places like this are my worst nightmare," Audrey said. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and dust covered the floor. She shivered. With the lights off, the opening would be darker than a tomb. Gray touched her, and she started.
"You really don't like this, do you?" he asked, brushing his hand over her back in a gesture of reassurance. With his other hand, he aimed the beam from the flashlight into the vestibule.
She pushed the door shut. "The idea of being…" She took a deep breath. "When I was four or five, I was trapped in the cellar of a burning building. It was pitch-black. Terrifying."
"I can imagine," Gray said.
Audrey forced a chuckle. "I still sleep with a night-light on."
"Can't say I blame you."
"The worst part is I don't really remember any of it," she continued. "Only what my mother told me about it." Turning away from the carved door, she surveyed the shelf in front of her, which was filled with towels.
"Sometimes that's just as well." Gray began searching the shelves, puffing neatly folded stacks of sheets away from the wall. "Sometimes it's better if you can't remember."
She heard footsteps down the hall, and an instant later, Richard appeared in the doorway.
"Did you lose something?" he inquired. "Or is this a physical inventory to accompany your audit, Audrey?"
Audrey straightened a pile of towels and gave him a level stare. "Actually, we're looking for a transmitter or a tape player."
"A transmitter to what?" He raised a dark eyebrow.
"One attached to the speaker in my room," Audrey explained.
"You must be talking about the intercom," Richard said.
Audrey shook her head. "I don't think so."
Richard smiled, an expression of indulgence. "If you want to waste your time like this… How did she manage to suck you into this game, Gray?" He shrugged, then turned his glance back to her. "My cousin always did have a soft spot for anything in a skirt."
She made a point of glancing at her jeans. "That lets me out then."
"Have fun on your wild-goose chase." He gave them both a final, raking glance, then walked away.
"Damn," Gray muttered. "Why'd you tell him what we're looking for?"
"Most people return truth with truth."
"That's a nice fairy tale, Audrey. Most people cover their butt." He ushered her out of the closet and pulled the door shut behind them.
Audrey caught up with Gray as he stalked down the hall. "Let's suppose you're right—"
"I know I'm right."
"Okay." She touched his arm, hoping he'd stop and face her. He did not, so she followed him, his posture rigid.
He didn't stop until they reached Richard's office. Inside, he returned the keys to the lap drawer, which he slammed shut. He turned to face her, his expression stony.
Hoping to defuse his irritation, she smiled at him. "C'mon, so what if Richard knows? This was obviously a ploy to make me leave. And since Richard knows I'm on to him, I shouldn't have any more trouble. Problem solved."
"Just like that?"
"I'm hoping so. Maybe Richard's the kind of guy who expresses his frustrations a little forcefully. Howard's like that. He threatens to kill his wife when she bounces a check. You know?"
"I know," Gray muttered.
"He never has," Audrey said. "Killed his wife, I mean. I'm just trying to make the point that he … overstates things. Maybe a little like Richard."
He folded his arms over his chest. "I'm glad you've figured out everything."
"You don't sound glad."
"Believe me, I hope you're right."
Relieved that his anger seemed to have faded, she smiled. "Now, who else was I gonna call? Ghostbusters?"
He almost smiled. "Back to work for a while?"
"Yeah," she agreed, wondering what it took to make the man smile. "Though I think yours is a whole lot more interesting than mine."
"If you don't like it, why keep doing it?"
"A question I've asked myself a lot lately," she said.
"Are you going to be okay in here?"
"Sure," she said.
He glanced outside. "Since it's stopped raining, I'll take a look at your car."
After Gray left, Audrey sat back down at the desk and stared blindly at the pages in the open folder.
If you don't like this, why keep doing it? Gray's question was one she had asked herself a lot over the past several months.
With effort, she forced her attention back to the work at hand.
"I'm glad to see you back at work instead of chasing phantoms," Richard said from the doorway a few minutes later.
Audrey glanced up and met his gaze. "I don't chase phantoms or figments of my imagination, Richard."
"You seem to have made quite an impression on my cousin."
"He's been very kind to me since I arrived."
"You don't strike me as the kind of woman who would go for rough stuff," Richard said, leaning against the doorjamb and crossing his feet.
"Get to the point, if you have one."
He smiled. "I wouldn't be trusting him, if I were you. He can be quite … violent. He killed a man, you know."
"And just how would I know such a thing?" she countered, tightening her fingers around a pencil. Gray kill a man? She couldn't imagine it. "Goodbye, Richard."
She sensed him watching her a moment longer before he left. His telling her that Gray had killed a man sounded like a kid bragging that his father was bigger, tougher, meaner than any of the other fathers. Audrey admitted she didn't know Gray, but she was certain he couldn't be a killer. Could he?
That question never completely escaped her thoughts as she continued to work. Within another half hour, she needed to compare the data stored in her computer to Richard's files. Through the window, she could see that the hood of her car was open. If Gray had unlocked the car, she could use the trunk latch inside it to retrieve her computer.
She went outside, noticing the air felt cooler than it had when she had gone to find him earlier. A storm squall on the other side of the valley hid the foothills behind them, and the smell of rain was in the air again.
Gray was nowhere in sight as she approached the car, though she noticed he had left some tools lying on a quilted cover next to the engine. His cat, Horace, sat on the courtyard wall, watching her approach.
Audrey came to a stop and held out her hand. The cat gave her a delicate sniff, then butted his head against her hand in a demand to be petted. She complied, grinning when his hoarse purr rumbled from his chest.
"We could do this all day, I bet," she said, giving Horace a final pat. "But that doesn't get the work done."
As she had hoped, the car was unlocked, and she popped open the trunk with the latch inside the car. Coming around to the back of the car, she reached inside for the black nylon case that held her laptop computer.
An odor rose from the trunk. She frowned. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. But the smell—it was a familiar and unpleasant one she couldn't quite place.
She set the laptop case on the ground. A bundle of clear, thin plastic was wadded up near the front of the trunk. She moved it aside.
It dripped, and she realized the odor was of blood.
Audrey turned the plastic wrapping over.
A bloody mess of fur and paws and goo from some poor creature slid onto the floor of the trunk.
* * *
Chapter 5
« ^ »
At first, she stared in puzzlement, some fragment of her mind denying what she saw. Realization came, and she whimpered.
"Audrey?"
She opened her eyes and watched Gray stride toward her, carrying a battered toolbox.
"What's the matter?" Gray asked.
"I came out to get … my computer." She glanced back at the mess in the trunk of her car. Her chin quivered and she whimpered.
Gray peered into the trunk, then swore. Abruptly, he set down the toolbox and steered her toward the log next to the path, then pushed her down.
"Put your head between your knees," he ordered, his voice gruff, his hands at the back of her neck, "before you faint."
A dozen questions without a single obvious answer raced through Gray's mind as he divided his attention between Audrey and her car. Old habits surfaced without his giving them conscious thought, and his gaze strayed back to the car, searching for clues.
He left Audrey long enough to examine the trunk and the ground behind it. There sure as hell hadn't been anything other than her luggage and the box of files in the trunk last night. He would have felt better if he had seen some evidence of a forced entry.
He sat back down next to Audrey and caressed her nape. "Are you okay?"
Audrey opened her eyes and found herself looking at damp earth—gravel and blades of grass. "Why would anyone do that?"
"Don't think about it." Gray touched her chin, urging her to sit up, bringing her face toward him. "Let's get you inside."
Afraid she might keel over, Gray kept his hand on her elbow as she stood up.
"My laptop," she murmured, waving toward the back of her car.
"I'll get it." He left her standing in the middle of the path, retrieved the black case from the ground behind her car. Inside, he led her through the maze of hallways until they reached her room. He tried the door and discovered it was locked.
"Key?" he asked, holding out his hand.
"Key?" she repeated. "What key?"
"Your room key, Audrey." Gray's eyes narrowed. She didn't sound anything like herself, and she stood drunkenly, further convincing him she would fall over if he let her go. "Where is it?"
HIS TENDER TOUCH Page 6
