by Rita Herron
Collin wandered to Sydney’s right, studying some of her photographs while she and Kelly talked business.
“I like your sea-animal shots,” Collin said, his voice filled with surprise. “Those sea turtles are so vivid I can almost touch them.”
A blush warmed Sydney’s cheeks, adding fire to the already sweltering heat. “I like to dabble in nature photos and marine wildlife.”
Collin took his time scrutinizing the prints, commenting on the shadows, angles and lighting of each shot. He was a complex man adding to a complex situation. But his admiration for her work pleased her.
“I bet Doug liked your work,” he said.
Sydney shifted uncomfortably. “He admired it in the beginning, but he was so busy last year he wasn’t around a lot.” He’d even wanted her to quit, to devote more time to being an executive’s wife, something she’d been unable to fathom. Then they’d talked about having a baby, and their marriage had improved for a while. He’d obviously been placating her with false promises.
“This sunset is fantastic.”
“I took it by the marina,” Sydney said, her pride swelling. “The oranges and reds were great that night, but that streak of purple intrigued me.” It was also the same night she’d realized her rocky marriage to Doug was over. He’d come home smelling like cheap perfume and admitted he’d been with another woman, had said it was just one time, but she’d suspected there were others, would always be others.
“I’d like to buy it.” Collin removed it from the display.
Sydney stiffened, aware Kelly was watching their interaction. Megan started to fuss and Kelly picked her up, propping her on her hip.
“I told you earlier you don’t owe me anything,” Sydney said, remembering his comment about repaying his debt.
Collin’s smile faded. “I’m not buying it because I owe you. I’m buying it because I like it. It’ll be perfect above the mantel in my apartment.”
Sydney folded her arms across her chest. “Really, Collin, I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”
“You don’t understand, Sydney.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “All those months I was blind, I missed seeing things like this.” He motioned toward the wall of photographs, then toward the ocean behind them. “I used to try and remember places I’d been, what the ocean looked like, the mountains, but it wasn’t the same.” He pulled off his sunglasses and gazed into her eyes. “Now, I appreciate them more. I know how much I missed.” His voice cracked slightly. “I know it sounds corny, but can you understand that?”
Sydney’s heart melted. His mouth curved into a lopsided, almost embarrassed smile. Warmth radiated through her body at his words, teasing her senses, making her forget she was a recent widow. He’d described her feelings about the pictures she took, the reason she’d gotten into photography years ago—she wanted to capture the beauty of the world around her forever. Only, lately life hadn’t been so beautiful.
The thought jerked her back to the moment and she noticed Kelly watching her, frowning. Other people joined them at the booth and Sydney dragged her gaze away from Collin. He did the same, although she sensed he was as reluctant as she to break the spell.
Kelly wrapped the picture and promised to hold it for him to pick up later.
“You want me to man the booth for a while?” Sydney asked, noticing several potential customers.
“No, Jean’s coming to get Megan in a few minutes,” Kelly explained. “She’s baby-sitting this afternoon.”
Sydney cooed and brushed Megan’s baby-soft curls away from her forehead. “Hey, sweetie, how’s my little angel?” Megan made a gurgling sound and curled her chubby hand against Sydney’s chest. The scent of baby powder wafted from her, and Sydney felt a painful tug on her heartstrings for the child she’d never had. And for the dream of a family that had died with her unhappy marriage.
Suddenly she felt someone watching her. She glanced up to see Sergeant Raeburn glaring at her across the crowd.
COLLIN DIDN’T UNDERSTAND what was happening to him. Every time he met another local, strange feelings bombarded him. Nothing concrete, no real images, just a slight rattle of his nerve endings hinting that something peculiar was happening to his body. And with the town. Sydney’s face paled in the bright sunlight, and he turned to see what had upset her.
Raeburn. Watching the two of them like a hawk about to swoop.
He’d probably discovered Collin was a cop by now. What else did he know?
Collin raised his hand and waved. Raeburn tipped his hat, them sauntered off. Sydney clamped down on her lip with her teeth and cuddled Megan. He instinctively reached out to touch the little girl’s chubby, soft cheek.
“Hey, there, pudding.”
Sydney’s eyes widened.
“What is it, Sydney?”
The breath seemed to catch in her throat. “That’s exactly what Doug used to call her.”
He froze, his heart skipping a beat, and racked his brain to remember where he’d heard the silly nickname before. He couldn’t recall ever hearing it.
A little girl of about four ran up, an elderly man in tow. “Take my picture, Ms. Sydney,” the child said, her big brown eyes mesmerizing.
Sydney laughed and photographed the little girl while the elderly man stood by. Then she carefully eased Megan back into her stroller and kissed her cheek. The oddest sensation struck Collin at the gesture. Strange, since he’d never paid much attention to kids before, had never had the desire for a family of his own, but for just a minute... He blocked the ridiculous thought. Must be all this small-town stuff.
A tall, attractive blond woman approached. On her blouse she wore an unusual sea-horse pin with an emerald eye that glittered in the sunlight.
“I’m taking Beth to ride the ponies now,” the elderly man, apparently the little girl’s grandfather, said to the woman. Beth grabbed his hand again and quickly dragged him away.
The woman gave Sydney a questioning look as Sydney introduced her to Collin as Marla.
“Where’s your hubby?” Sydney asked.
Marla’s smile faded. “I didn’t want to mention it at the studio, with you just out of the hospital. He and I separated last week.” She traced a circle on the ground with the toe of her shoe. “He went to Atlanta on business. We’re going to talk when he gets back.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sympathy softened Sydney’s face. “I hope you guys can work things out.”
Marla shrugged. “Me, too. Beth will be devastated if her dad moves out permanently.” Looking as if she regretted saying so much, Marla added an apology and hastily left.
“A good friend?” Collin asked.
“An acquaintance,” Sydney answered. “I take Beth’s portrait a couple of times a year. Why?”
Collin shook his head. “I don’t know. Were you and Doug good friends of theirs?”
“Not realty,” Sydney said hesitantly. “Marla and Randy belong to the club where Doug worked out We didn’t socialize, though.”
Collin rolled his shoulders, wondering about the uneasiness he’d sensed with Maria. The town certainly appeared friendly, but looks could be deceiving. “Do you have any idea which one of these people might have killed your husband?”
Sydney’s startled eyes touched a chord of guilt inside him, reminding him of a time in his life when he’d been less skeptical of others, more trusting. A time before he was a cop. witnessing the dregs of society. Sydney had that innocence about her, but her husband’s murder had obviously tainted it.
Still, he could have kicked himself for being so blunt, especially when Sydney’s blue eyes turned wary, their earlier ease disintegrating.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Sydney gestured toward the crowd, her voice quivering as she said, “These people are my friends. I trust them.”
He reached out to comfort her, but she backed away. “I apologize for being so tactless. I just wondered if Doug had any enemies.”
“I don�
�t know,” Sydney said cautiously. “Why are you asking so many questions?”
Collin winced, realizing he’d overstepped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He shrugged. “I guess it has me rattled to know that the man who gave me back my eyesight didn’t die by accident.”
Shadows played across her face as she retreated further. He silently told himself to move slowly. To give her space and himself time to think like a cop, not like someone personally involved.
But he was personally involved, he admitted to himself. Ever since his operation.
Two middle-aged men approached Sydney. The taller one wore khakis and a polo shirt and held out his hand in greeting. They offered condolences about Doug, then asked about Norvek Pharmaceuticals and when the company would release the new weight-loss product.
“I don’t know, John. I’m sure Steve Wallace will have an announcement soon.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the sun highlighting the curve of her chin.
“Keep us posted,” both men said.
Sydney introduced them, and Collin committed their names to memory. John Armstrong and Bill Daniels. A couple of Doug’s acquaintances to check out. Collin’s eyesight blurred slightly. As he shook John’s hand, he experienced a quick vision. The man arguing with him...accusing him of falsifying FDA information.
When he managed to shake off the image, Collin was sweating, his mouth dry. The men retreated toward a health-care booth at the far end of the street. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but a tent had been set up for free blood-pressure checkups, and a barrage of health-care companies congregated there to answer questions and give other types of free screenings.
“I’m going to take photographs of the entertainment,” Sydney said. “Why don’t you check out some of the other booths?”
He wished he could control the images bombarding him. And he wished Sydney would stop looking at him as if he were a ghost.
“I’ll see you later?” he asked.
She shrugged, then hurried off, obviously wanting to get away from him. He’d definitely spooked her with his questions and probing looks. While Sydney took photographs, he wandered around the booths, picking up snippets of information and gossip about the town, carefully keeping one eye on Sydney.
“Poor girl,” he heard an older woman whisper to her blue-haired friend. “You knew her husband was running around on her, didn’t you?”
“I thought as much,” the second woman said, her bracelets jangling as she talked with her hands. “They say the wife’s always the last to know.”
The gossip stirred new questions in Collin’s head. Just what kind of a man and husband had Doug Green been? Did Sydney know he’d been unfaithful?
“I think he had more than one slip on the side.” The first woman tittered.
“I heard they were headed for a divorce. She’d already filed the papers. Didn’t surprise me a bit.”
Sydney had filed divorce papers? The news hit him like a truck. Did Raeburn know this? Was that why he didn’t seem to be looking past Sydney for the killer?
“I always told my girl not to trust a pretty-boy face. And that Doug Green had one if I ever saw one.”
“Lying eyes,” the blue-haired woman added. “The windows of a person’s soul. And that man’s soul had the devil in it.”
Collin pressed his fingers to his temple as the realization sank in. They were talking about Doug Green’s eyes. The eyes that now belonged to him.
SYDNEY TOOK SEVERAL more snapshots, feeling Collin’s dark gaze burning into her back as she wove through the crowd. He’d planted a seed of doubt in her mind about her friends, and she didn’t like it at all.
Thank God she’d escaped without bumping into Raeburn. He’d been too occupied with the police safety booth to hassle her.
Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed in relief to see Collin had finally gone on without her. She needed to put some space between them. She headed down the street, anxious to retreat to her home for some privacy.
But when she finally reached her walkway, an eerie premonition crawled through her, raising the hair on the nape of her neck. The door to her garage was open. And her front door stood slightly ajar. What was going on? Could someone be inside? Beaufort had always been such a safe town.
Until Doug’s murder.
Her heart thudded to a stop as she peered inside the open doorway. Her house had been broken into. She could see into the den. The room had been ransacked. Magazines, books, her couch cushions, all her belongings lay in disarray.
Then she staggered backward in horror as a tall, wiry man appeared in the doorway and pointed a gun in her face.
Chapter Five
“Who...who are you?” Sydney stammered.
The thin hand holding the gun trembled. “Come in, Mrs. Green. I’ve been waitin’ on you.”
The strong scent of his musky cologne and cigarette smoke filled the air. Sydney wanted to gag. “What do you want?” She fisted her hand around her keys and tried to remember the self-defense class she’d taken. If she stomped his foot first, then stabbed him in the eyes with her keys—
“I said come in, damn it” The man’s growl and wild-eyed expression made her rethink her plan. If the gun went off, she’d be dead. He jerked her arm, yanking her through the front door. Her legs wobbled as she stared into his beady green eyes. Was this Doug’s murderer? Had he returned to kill her?
Determined not to let him succeed without a fight, she struggled against his grasp, stumbling backward. Suddenly Collin Cash materialized behind her and caught her. He reached for the gun, but the stranger pointed the weapon at Sydney’s temple. Collin froze, then raised his hands in surrender. Sydney’s heart pounded, but Collin’s presence sent a wave of relief rushing through her.
“What’s going on?” Collin’s steely voice startled the man, who waved the gun back and forth between the two of them.
“Who the hell are you?”
Collin eased up beside Sydney, then placed himself in front of her. “I’m a friend of Sydney’s. Just stay calm, mister, and put down the gun.”
“Be quiet!”
Sydney tried to mollify him, “If you want jewelry or money—”
“Shut up!” he yelled in a high-pitched voice, shuffling from one worn leather loafer to the other. “I don’t want your damn jewelry. I want what’s rightfully mine.”
Sydney. shuddered. “What are you talking about?”
“The formula for the weight-loss drink.” He pushed a copy of the newspaper article in front of her. He looked like a mad scientist, Sydney thought, irrational and out of control. “It’s mine. I demand you give me credit for it.”
“I don’t understand, Mr....”
“McKenzie.” He flattened his palm over his chest, punctuating his words as he pulled a formal-looking document from his pocket. “I’m Spade McKenzie, Mrs. Green. I’m sure your husband told you about me.”
“No. he didn’t,” Sydney said, striving for calm. “And even if the formula is yours, my husband secured the licensing agreement for it.”
The man’s eyebrows drew together in a scowl, his right eye twitching nervously. “Your husband stole it from me at the university. He must have copied it from my files. Imagine my surprise when I opened the paper and read he’d sold it.” His eyes flashed with rage. “Now I want you to talk to the company, tell them it’s mine and make sure I’m paid the money due me.”
Collin held up a warning hand. “Settle down, man, and put away the gun.”
Fear ballooned in Sydney’s chest, then settled into a dull ache. Was McKenzie telling the truth? Had Doug stolen it? Or had this crazy man seen the article and decided to take the credit and money for Doug’s accomplishments?
“Listen, Mr. McKenzie, you need to talk to the president of the company,” Sydney suggested in a shaky voice. “I didn’t have anything to do with the deal.”
“Now put down the gun before you hurt someone,” Collin coaxed in a quiet but threatening tone.
&n
bsp; “Don’t tell me what to do!”
Sydney clutched Collin’s elbow at the panicked look on McKenzie’s face. Collin squeezed her hand, but sent McKenzie a scathing look.
McKenzie’s hand was trembling so badly now she was afraid the gun would discharge. “I tried talking to the people at Norvex, but they wouldn’t even see me.”
“Why don’t you get a lawyer?” Collin suggested.
“That’ll cost me a fortune.” McKenzie wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Just read this document. I got the patent six months ago.”
“But Doug’s been working on this deal for over a year,” Sydney argued.
“If you look at this paper, you’ll see I talked with Triset Pharmaceuticals about the product, not your husband,” McKenzie explained. “I worked so hard on that formula, took so damn much time to get it right.”
Sydney’s hand shook as she accepted the paper. If McKenzie was telling the truth, Doug hadn’t been the man she’d thought he was. But then, she already knew that. He had an alias. What else would she discover about him?
“I don’t see how I can help you,” Sydney said, fighting tears. “I didn’t work with Doug or the company, Mr. McKenzie.”
He gestured toward her computer. He’d already turned it on and had been snooping through her file manager. “You know where your husband’s files are stored. Show me and I’ll prove he copied it from me.”
“Mr. McKenzie—” Sydney hesitated, forcing a calm into her voice she didn’t feel “—that computer is mine. I store my bookkeeping for my photography business in it. Doug kept his computer and files at his office.”
Collin laid a gentle hand over hers and Sydney took a deep breath. Collin’s entire persona radiated danger and anger, but she felt nothing but tenderness in his touch. And protectiveness, a sensation that both puzzled her and left her feeling vulnerable in a whole different way.
McKenzie’s fingers tightened around the automatic, his complexion turning ruddy with anger. “I want my name on that formula. I deserve to have it.”
“Then get a lawyer,” Collin suggested again, his voice deadly this time. “Mrs. Green can’t help you.”
