The Southern Comfort Series Box Set

by Clark O'Neill, Lisa

  Would wonders never cease. “Banner day for you. All this emotion, out here in the open.”

  “You can put a sock in it, Kath. This isn’t as easy for me as it looks.”

  It looked like he was completely miserable, but she kept that to herself for now.

  He stared past the limbs of the oak, took in the gray mist blanketing the cemetery like a shroud. Weak sunlight struggled to make an appearance. She figured it was a pretty good analogy of his life over the past fourteen years.

  “So what are the chances Sadie doesn’t hate me?”

  Probably better than he deserved. Kathleen stooped over to scoop up the umbrella, useless now that both of them were soaked. “You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, Lucy, but she’s been more worried than anything else. I did a little damage control by reminding her about our family’s history with ladders, so at least she’s stopped thinking you’re insane.”

  “Unfortunate,” he slicked a hand through dripping hair, “since I probably am.”

  “No more than she’s already accustomed to. One of the benefits of falling in love with someone who’s known you since you were in diapers.”

  He snorted, then gave her a sideways look. “I notice you’ve shown remarkably little surprise about what you walked in on last night.”

  “Volatile relationship like yours, either you end up in bed or you kill each other outright.”

  “Uh-huh.” He watched her shake out the umbrella. “And you had nothing to do with… helping along the outcome?”

  As a cop, Kathleen did a really good blank face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It won’t kill you to drive her to her hotel, Declan. She needs somebody to look out for her, Declan, and you’re the most logical choice since you live right next door. She’ll only be staying with you for a few days, Declan.” He raised an eyebrow. “Any of that ring a bell?”

  “Amazing she didn’t opt for killing you instead.”

  “You’re a balm for the soul, truly.” He shook his head with disgust. “So this is what it’s come down to. Me squalling and blubbering like a little girl and having my sister run interference with my woman.”

  “Think of it as a growth experience.”

  “Yeah, you can never get enough of those.” Then Declan dropped the pretense of irritation, gaze shifting to their mother’s grave.

  “She loved her,” Kathleen said, referring to the bond between Colleen and Sadie, who’d treated her like a daughter from day one. “She’d be happy to see you together.”

  “A little premature. Sadie may not even speak to me again.”

  “Wear her down with your charm.”

  He gave her an ironic glare. Then he returned his gaze toward the headstone. “Did you tell Sadie… about this? About my part in it?”

  “I wasn’t about to pave the whole road for you. You’ll have to tackle that one on your own.”

  “I’ll tell her,” he said, glumly.

  “You’ll feel better for it. She will, too. It explains a hell of a lot about your personality.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there was an insult hidden in that?”

  “Because you might be an idiot, but you’re not stupid. And also, it wasn’t really hidden.”

  “And you wonder why Mom loved me best.”

  The pain behind his eyes when he said it had her reaching out to take his hand. “Make peace with it, Declan. I meant it when I said it was an accident. You know she wouldn’t tolerate your guilt. Living – avoiding life – the way you have been is a discredit to the boy she raised.”

  Tears shimmered, but he managed to control them. “Thank you, Kathleen. In case I never told you, you’re a hell of a sister.”

  “Pretty, too.” She pushed a sodden hunk of hair from where it was plastered against her forehead.

  “Come on.” He bent down to retrieve the bottle of whiskey. “Let’s get out of here before we catch pneumonia.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTTEEN

  SADIE sighed her disgust as she opened her cell phone, realizing she’d let the battery go dead. Between preparing for that day’s job interview and trying not to obsess over the debacle with Declan, her head hadn’t been screwed on quite straight. Hopefully Kathleen hadn’t been trying to reach her. She’d said she would call if she managed to run Declan to ground. Not that Sadie ever wanted to lay eyes on him again, but it would be nice to know that he wasn’t dead in an alley. Or passed out in a drunken stupor, with rats nibbling on his extremities.

  She tried not to derive a great deal of satisfaction from that image. After all, she’d climbed into that bed with him quite willingly. But the fact remained that she was still irritated with him almost past bearing.

  Yes, a broken condom was certainly cause for concern under the circumstances. Maybe even the teensiest bit of panic, considering they’d never discussed the fact that she was on the pill. But to actually throw up, and then run away like some kind of prison escapee…

  Of course, tempering that was the newfound knowledge of how emotionally vulnerable he’d been last night. Declan had always been a mama’s boy, but Sadie hadn’t put his reaction to the ladder together with the manner of his mother’s death. It made a certain sense that he’d flipped out. What didn’t make quite as much sense – or at least the sense it made was more infuriating – was the degree to which he’d flipped out after they’d made love.

  Had sex, she reminded herself forcefully. She’d be crazy to confuse that with love.

  With Declan Murphy, of all people.

  Grunting her annoyance, Sadie stashed the useless phone back into her purse and let herself in the back door. She’d planned to spend the rest of the morning running errands, but given the way the rain was coming down outside, had decided to postpone those for another day.

  At least her interview had gone well. The regular art teacher for one of the local schools had gone into labor earlier than expected, leaving the school with some extra maternity leave to cover. The way it looked, the woman might not be coming back at all, meaning it was possible Sadie could end up with a full-time position.

  So maybe fate wasn’t entirely out to get her.

  Tossing her purse on the kitchen table, Sadie strode to the stove to put the kettle on for tea. It had always been her go-to drink for both comfort and for chasing away a chill.

  While she waited for the water to boil she took out one of her new stoneware mugs and rooted through her tea bags. One orange, passion fruit and jasmine green tea left.

  Yes, indeedy. Fate was feeling friendly today.

  After unwrapping the bag, Sadie slipped off her heels – sedate black leather, but with a flirty little ribbon in place of the ankle strap – and padded across the worn floorboards toward the answering machine.

  Maybe if Kathleen hadn’t been able to reach her on her cell phone, she would have tried to call the house. A bold PF flashed in the lighted display window, an unwanted reminder of the power failure she’d experienced during The Incident. She hadn’t checked this answering machine since, as she usually relied on her cell phone’s voicemail. Ignoring the small shiver that chased up her spine, she wondered if the outage had messed up the somewhat antiquated machine’s stored messages or the ability to record new ones. Finding play, she leaned against the counter and waited to find out.

  The first several messages were the old ones from her property manager, which she’d never gotten around to deleting. One was a telemarketer – why did they even bother to leave messages? Like anyone ever called them back – and one from a local politician’s campaign people requesting her support in some kind of election. Sadie snorted.

  She was just about to lose patience and fast forward to the end when the next message stopped her in place.

  This is Skeet… Edward Cooper leaving this message and this is my l-last will and testament.

  I know who killed Nora Beth Dennison, down in Beaufort, back in October. And if Brady and Wilson Marshall are hearing this before anyone else,
then you can go straight to hell…

  The shiver which had moved up her spine worked its way out to her shoulders.

  Was this somebody’s idea of a joke?

  The tape continued with deep moans followed by a loud banging, the sound of a scuffle and another man’s voice. The words were muffled, but Sadie could make out stupid bastard, kill you, and better tell us where it is.

  Gooseflesh broke across her skin, and her breathing grew quick and shallow.

  Dear God, was this actually for real?

  She listened while more scuffling and some pitiful keening noises ensued, like the sound of an animal in pain. Then another voice snarled a curse, followed by what sounded like he has a phone and the connection was abruptly cut off.

  Sadie’s pulse skyrocketed, and her trembling finger hit pause. Unless somebody had a real twisted sense of what constituted funny, she might be hearing the commission of a crime.

  And this is my last will and testament…

  Make that the commission of a murder. This man – this Edward Cooper – seemed to believe that he was about to die. This couldn’t be serious, could it?

  Her legs trembled, and Sadie lowered herself to the floor.

  It was like a bad movie script, or, or the plot from a mystery novel or something. Stuff like this didn’t happen in real life.

  And why would the man have chosen to call this number? Or had he simply misdialed? None of it made sense.

  However, she couldn’t just ignore it. If it was evidence of something, then the police needed to know.

  Sadie reached for the phone to call Kathleen, but a sound behind her caused her hand to still in midair.

  Slowly – very, very slowly – she turned her head on her stiffened neck.

  And encountered a pair of work boots.

  She lifted her gaze by increments, eyes widening when they encountered the gun. And above the lethal looking pistol, the face of her security contractor, Doug.

  The sight of that smile, so friendly and warm and familiar, was incongruous with the weapon he pointed with unerring aim directly at her head.

  “Pity you had to hear that, Ms. Mayhew.”

  He strolled over to her, quite casually, and unplugged the machine from the wall. Then he yanked the phone cord out of its jack.

  Sadie fell back on her bottom from the shock of his proximity. Or rather, the proximity of the gun.

  “We knew he’d called here,” he continued conversationally. “I traced the number and that’s how we got the address, but we figured he might have had a woman he’d been warning off. Maybe calling for help, much good as it would have done him. Never guessed the fool would be leaving a message. Guess I should have checked the machine.” He sighed as he wrapped up the phone cord, keeping the gun pointed at her all the while.

  The barrel looked huge from a distance of inches.

  Task complete, Doug sat the phone and the answering machine aside and squatted in front of her. “You were supposed to be gone all morning, you know.” He reached out, lifted a lock of her hair and frowned. “Such a shame you had to come home early.”

  Skin pricking with sick revulsion, Sadie’s lunch threatened to come back up.

  Allowing her hair to sift through his fingers, he pursed his lips as he studied her. “I guess you did all that running for nothing, after all. You gave my brother a good chase, though. Slipped right through his hands.” His sudden smile was companionable. “Frustrating as that was, I have to admit it was amusing.”

  The pieces all clicked into place. “The burglary… it was y-you.”

  “None other. Didn’t know you were here. Took us right by surprise. Crawlin’ out the window like that, and then jumpin’ off the roof…” he sighed, as if in admiration. “Like I said – it’s a damn shame. But I’m afraid old Edward took something of mine, and we suspect he hid it here in the house. Bad luck for you, Ms. Mayhew.”

  Yeah. No kidding.

  Then the reality of what had been happening right under her nose caused her to whimper softly in distress. “That’s why you’re here. You wanted a chance to really search while I was gone.”

  “Just putting it all together, are you?”

  Sadie’s thought processes were indeed sluggish, as though fear had coated her neural pathways in a thin layer of ice. “But how… I don’t understand. I got your number from the phone book.”

  “Biggest ad you could find.” He winked, and Sadie realized he was turning her own words back on her. “Funny thing, you being friends with that cop was both a pain in the ass and a blessing. Couldn’t make any obvious moves on your place, ‘cause she and that neighbor of yours were watching you like a hawk watches a chicken, but it was right nice of her to recommend you install a security system. And a fine thing that I had a long range listening device in place when you made the initial call. We placed one just after to cancel your consultation – you know how you women change your minds – and got ourselves together all the right paraphernalia. Did you know some of those sign places can have the magnetic ones ready for your vehicle in only a day?”

  He actually waited for an answer, but she couldn’t do it. Her tongue was frozen to the roof of her mouth.

  “Anyway,” he waved the pistol, sending Sadie’s blood pressure right through the roof, “the really funny thing was, my brother actually used to work for a security company, which is how we got started with this burglary business. On the bright side, you can rest assured that he’s done a fine job with your wiring.”

  “Great,” she said, weakly.

  A shrill whistling sound made them both jump, which was dangerous, considering one of them was psychotic and wielding a pistol.

  “Your tea.” Doug, or whoever the hell he was, finally laughed and tapped her leg. “Hop up, Ms. Mayhew. You can have a cup while we wait for my brother to get here.”

  The friendliness, the lack of tension, the very normalcy with which he continued to treat her freaked Sadie out almost more than the gun. Paralyzed with fear, she sat like a statue of indecision, unable to move at all until he nudged her with a great deal more force. She struggled to gain her feet, tangled as they were within her skirt, wobbled because her legs were like noodles and lurched unsteadily toward the stovetop.

  Boiling water…

  Maybe she could throw it in his face.

  “You have a seat.” Apparently he’d come to the same conclusion, for he steered her with a firm hand until she was planted in a ladder-back chair. She watched him turn off the burner, scanned the room for some kind of weapon while he poured, wiped her sweaty palms on her stocking-clad legs when the tea bag plopped in the water.

  All the while he was making her drink he had the gun pointed at her head.

  “Here you are.” He carried the mug over, sat it down. “Careful now. That water’s scalding.”

  And the look in his eyes when he smiled at her suggested that he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking. Knew that she was tempted to toss the contents of the mug his way, was almost daring her to try it.

  Riled despite her terror, Sadie held onto his gaze, hand trembling only the slightest bit as she reached out and lifted the beverage. She eyed him over the rim and blew across the surface, never once looking away from those obsidian eyes while she took a delicate sip.

  “Needs sugar,” she proclaimed, forestalling a flinch when he laughed out loud.

  “See what I mean?” He chuckled his approval. “For such a little thing, you’ve got a damn big pair, forgive the off-color analogy. A shame,” he said again. “I really do like you.”

  “Enough to discuss the conditions of my release?”

  “Not that much.”

  Alas, she hadn’t quite thought so.

  And she knew that when his brother arrived they’d discuss what to do with her body. Because there was no way this man was ever going to let her live. She had to make a stand, do something now. Once the odds were two-plus-a-pistol against one she had a snowball’s chance of getting out of this hell.<
br />
  And the bastard obviously knew that she knew it. Making it seem like he had some kind of fellow-feeling toward her, making her a cup of tea… Sadie thought back on all the times over the past week he’d been so solicitous, so concerned for her welfare. All of it had been designed to give her a false sense of security – no pun intended. And maybe he really had planned to simply walk away after they’d found whatever it was they were looking for. But now, the courteous manner was worse than farce, it was another layer of cruelty.

  And the thought of what he might do to her while wearing that friendly smile gave Sadie the impetus she needed. She’d rather act and have him shoot her now than let him drag her off somewhere.

  The very thought of which made her shudder.

  Meeting his eyes, attempting to ignore the nausea roiling in her stomach, Sadie lifted the mug toward her lips again, trying to normalize the action. As soon as he let his guard down even a little she’d toss the mug’s contents and make a break for the door.

  As a plan, it was pretty much cobbled together out of false bravado and pipe dreams, but she didn’t see that she had much of a choice. It was the only alternative available.

  But the sound of a heavy hand hitting the front door made her plan come crashing down around her.

  Probably his brother, she thought despondently. It was too late.

  But Doug’s dark eyes went narrow. If he thought it was his partner in crime, she was pretty sure he’d be delighted.

  Which meant it was likely someone connected to Sadie.

  Kathleen. Sweet God.

  It was both a curse and a benediction. Kathleen was a cop, and carried a gun. But caught unawares she wouldn’t have a chance to use it. Likely Doug would take her out before she became a problem.

  Unless Mac was with her…

  But no, today was her day off.

  Go away, Kath. If she walked in, Sadie had no doubt that Doug wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her.

  The knock came again, more aggressive this time, and through the door drifted the muffled sound of a voice beckoning her to open up. A very deep, masculine voice that was full of aggravation.