A familiar sensation of fear skittered down her spine. Someone had been inside her house while she slept. “But the windows were closed and locked.”
“Anyone else have a key to this place?”
“Steven’s family. No one else that I know of.”
“Well, we need to check that out. Oh, and your vet called.”
“She did? I didn’t hear the phone.”
“I turned it off in your bedroom.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“No, no, it’s all right. What did she say?”
“Bailey’s going to make it.”
“Oh.” A wave of pure relief swept over her. “That’s wonderful!” Without thinking, Kayla grabbed his free hand and squeezed it.
He looked startled, glanced down at their joined hands and promptly pulled his loose. In fact, he took a couple of steps back, his mouth set in a thin, disapproving line. His rejection of her touch was thorough, and she got the message.
She felt her face flush with embarrassment. She was way too needy. Her nature—despite, or maybe because, of her childhood—was to be physically friendly with people she liked, and she’d been without affection, of the physical sort, since Walter’s death.
“She also said,” Paul added, all business, “that she’s pretty sure the wounds were made by a knife—the edges were too clean to have been made by bear claws.”
This hit her hard. All of a sudden, she was dealing with reality again, the threatening kind. She shook her head. “I so did not want to hear that.”
“Yeah, well. She wanted to know who I was, answering your phone like that. I told her I was the handyman, but I’m not sure she believed me. Better give her a call.”
“Yes.”
“And I think you need to call the police again.”
“We did that last night, called the Susanville sheriff. After I filled Lou in on the other incidents, she was not happy I hadn’t told her about them. She’s kind of protective of me, a mama-bear type.”
“Good. What did the sheriff say?”
“That he’d pass on the information to the state police. He also said they’re stretched pretty thin, and that a dog’s injury isn’t enough to open a new investigation. They reserve their manpower for injuries to humans.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, that sounds about right, unfortunately. When I was on the force, we had to handle this kind of thing all the time. People can be cruel to animals and never have to pay for it. It’s just that we need to deal with what’s happening here before it escalates into doing a human some harm.”
“By ‘a human,’ you mean me, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer her question directly, instead said firmly, “You can’t stay here alone anymore. If the offer is still open, I’ll take you up on it. I’ll bunk down in the cabin.” He said this without much enthusiasm, as though he’d been backed against a wall and had no choice.
She wasn’t a charity case, she thought with a brief flare of indignation. If she needed protection, she could hire it, darn it. Besides, hadn’t she already decided he wouldn’t be staying in the cabin? Now, why was that? It was all a muddle. Oh, yes.
The kiss.
Which came back to her in full, blazing color, including the panoply of sensations she’d felt. All the fire, the mutual need, the intensity.
Her fear, his withdrawal.
What she was reliving must have shown on her face because Paul added quickly, “I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.”
“Oh, no,” she protested, “I wasn’t thinking of…”
But of course she had been. Just not in the entirely negative way he’d assumed. “I accept,” she surprised herself by saying. “And thank you.”
He nodded. Still, he seemed unhappy about something.
“Hey, if you don’t really want to stay—” she began.
“No, no, it’s not that.”
“Then just what is it?”
She could swear he was on the verge of answering her. For sure, there was something Paul was keeping to himself. But then he shook his head. “Nah. Nothing. Forget it.”
“What?”
“I said nothing,” he snapped, then made a disgusted face. “Dammit. I’m sorry.”
Again without thinking, she stepped closer to him and reached for his arm. “You really do have a lot of moods, don’t you, Paul?”
As soon as her hand touched the hard flesh of his arm, he shocked her by grabbing it and the other one and bringing them around to the back of his waist. Then he took her face in his huge hands, gazing at her with a look of such stark yearning that her knees nearly buckled. Holding her gently, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. With tenderness this time. She could feel him quivering ever so slightly with the effort he was making not to overwhelm or upset her.
Bless him, she thought, eagerly opening her mouth to receive his kiss, running her hands up and down his sweat-slicked back.
In no time at all, she was breathing rapidly. She felt her nipples harden against his chest, savored his hard sex pressing against her.
“Kayla, Kayla,” he groaned, then changed the angle of her head for better penetration.
This time there was no panicked reaction, no terror, maybe because she knew about Paul’s inner sweetness, or that he’d been here for her this morning, or that he seemed to genuinely care about Bailey and her. Whatever the reason, there was no barrier now to letting him touch her, wherever and however he wanted to. And to her touching him back.
As though he’d heard a silent signal, Paul moved one hand down her face, stroked it along the column of her neck, then lowered it to cup one of her breasts. She wore no bra—there hadn’t been time to change yet—so his thumb abrading its tip through the material made her groan loudly. Grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt, he pulled it over her head, then bent to take one of her aching nipples in his mouth, rubbing his thumb over the other, as though to soothe it, to assure it that he would be taking care of both of them.
“Oh, Paul.” Her breath hitched in her throat and she arched her back; she could barely stand. He held her firmly, didn’t let her fall. Then he reached his hand into the waistline of her sweatpants, and soon one finger was rubbing her most sensitive spot and Kayla was squirming beneath his touch.
As though in a dream, somewhere in the distance, she could hear a sound. Not an animal. Some kind of machine.
“Paul.”
“Hmm.”
“What you’re doing…?”
“You want me to stop?”
“God, no.”
Heat was rising in her, muscles were vibrating; it was all too much. They’d been touching each other for less than a minute, and here she was, practically on the verge of climaxing.
Suddenly her brain went on alert. The sound. It was a car.
Coming up her driveway.
As one, she and Paul pulled apart, like lovers in a stage play who hear the husband’s key turning in the lock. Keeping her back to the driveway, Kayla pulled on her sweatshirt and adjusted her clothing, relieved she didn’t have to deal with fastening a bra. Then she knelt down in front of her garden, pretending to examine a plant. Which was pretty silly, as there wasn’t a green shoot to be seen. Autumn, the time of dormancy.
The car stopped. Doors opened.
“Kayla?” She recognized the voice of Terri, who was married to Walter’s younger son, Joe.
Kayla straightened up. She was still breathing pretty hard, and knew her cheeks were red as beets. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so she turned toward the sound and waved. She liked Terri, even liked Joe, who was more even-tempered and seemingly less resentful of her than his older brother.
She watched as Sally and Erica, Joe and Terri’s two children, scrambled out of the car. Erica carried a small pink box with a ribbon on it as both of them ran up to Kayla and gave her big hugs, which she returned with enthusiasm. She loved the kids, and was grateful that at least one of Walter’s so
ns hadn’t turned his family against her.
“This is for you,” Erica said, handing Kayla the package.
“How sweet of you.”
“For your birthday,” Sally added.
Kayla rubbed at the five-year-old’s brown curls. “Got a new haircut, I see. I like it.” Then she turned to Erica, whose huge grin split her freckled face in two. “Oh, dear,” she said in mock horror. “Somebody’s gone and stolen your front teeth.”
The sisters giggled, then went dashing off after a squirrel who had descended a tree, seen all the human beings in the area and had headed right back up the tree again.
It was Terri’s turn to greet Kayla next. She hugged her stepmother-in-law, who hugged her back; but it was obvious that Terri seemed distracted by the sight of Paul, who stood off to the side, his arms at his sides. She eyed him with not a little curiosity before saying to Kayla, “We thought we’d surprise you for your birthday.”
“So I see.”
What had they witnessed as they’d come up the driveway? Kayla wondered. She hoped it wasn’t too much. She thought of saying something, tossing off some light comment about what they thought they had seen and what had actually been going on. A lie, in other words.
No. She had nothing to apologize for—it was her life and she’d broken no rules.
Joe joined the group next, leaving Steven leaning against the car. “Hey, Kayla,” Joe said, nodding. He was smaller than Steven, and brown-haired.
She kissed him on the cheek. “Good to see you,” she said, then turned and looked at his older brother.
He continued to keep himself separate, standing apart from both her and his brother’s family, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile on his face. And not a word from him.
If that’s how he wanted to play it, fine with her. She didn’t acknowledge him. Turning to the others, she said, “Joe, Terri, Sally and Erica, I’d like you to meet Paul Fitzgerald. He’s doing some work for me here at the cabin.”
“Is that what we just saw? Work?” This came from Joe. His tone was mildly amused, but there was an undercurrent of condemnation in it.
“Joe, hush,” Terri said.
Kayla felt her cheeks warming even more. So they had seen Paul and her embracing, a rather tame word for what they must have witnessed. Instead of answering Joe’s question, she said, keeping her tone even, “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Terri winced. “We should have called, I know. I hate surprise visits. But then, it sounded like such fun to give you your present in person, instead of sending it. It was Steven’s idea, as a matter of fact.”
“Steven?” Kayla said, surprised.
The man in question finally decided to occupy the same planet. He walked over to them, that same self-satisfied smile firmly in place. “Yes. It was my idea. Surely we don’t need permission to come to the family cabin, do we?”
“No, of course you don’t need it, Steven,” she said, continuing to keep her tone level and nonconfrontational. “Walter’s family is always welcome here. But, as we discussed the other day, surprise visits are another thing altogether.” She shrugged. “I might not have been here.”
“Or you might have been otherwise engaged,” Steven sneered suggestively, then turned to his brother. “See what I mean, Joe?”
Joe put a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Come on, Steve. I said we’d come if you promised we wouldn’t get into a fight.”
Steven’s words resonated in Kayla’s head. See what I mean, Joe? he’d said, probably referring to Paul and her.
So, there was another agenda going on here, not a harmless, pre-birthday family visit. She should have known.
She decided to hold her tongue. “There’s some coffee, if you’d like, and I think I can find a cookie or two.”
The children jumped up and down. “Yes! Cookies! Did you bake them, Kayla?”
She smiled at the girls. They were darlings and had been big fans of her occasional baking binges. “I haven’t had time. But I promise I will. Soon.”
Paul kept his face impassive as he witnessed the little family interactions going on, but he wanted to wring Steven’s neck. Five against one, not fair, even if four of them seemed congenial enough. Although he doubted that. Their animosity toward a young-wife-turned-widow was just better hidden, that was all.
Still, Kayla seemed to be handling it okay. She wasn’t cowed, that was for sure. And she wasn’t about to make excuses or ask forgiveness for what they’d seen, for which he admired her, and which made him feel a little better.
So he held his tongue, just stayed in the vicinity, in case she needed him. Even though the last time Steven had been here, she’d taken his head off for interfering.
Good old Steven wasn’t finished. “Does the ‘handyman’ work on Saturdays, too?” he asked contemptuously. “You’re certainly keeping him busy, aren’t you?”
The innuendo was hard to ignore and Paul took a step toward him, his fists clenched.
“This is not your business, Steven,” Kayla said firmly, shooting Paul a look of warning. “I don’t question your private life and I expect the same courtesy.”
“You expect courtesy? After marrying an old man for his money and then making him change his will in your favor?”
Joe tried to interrupt. “Hey, Steve, come on. Cut it out.”
Kayla crossed her arms over her chest, her lower jaw jutting out. “Let me say this again. And it will be the last time I say it. To all of you. I loved Walter Thorne. I married him because he begged me to. I didn’t want his money, I wanted his affection. He treated me well, cared for me. I made him happy. He was good to me and I was good to him.”
“You were so good to him, he cut us out of his will.”
“He didn’t cut you out, Steven. Try to get that through your paranoid head. He insisted on making me one of the beneficiaries, that’s all. Insisted, over my protests, on making sure I was taken care of after he was gone. He was a generous man.”
“And you took advantage of that.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “You know what? You’re a broken record and I’m tired of it. If you persist in seeing me as some kind of gold digger, then there’s nothing I can say to defend myself. I won’t defend myself. I’m done with it.”
Pointedly ignoring Steven, she turned toward Joe and his family, all of whom were shifting uncomfortably at the confrontation they’d witnessed. “Now, if you’d like to come in for coffee and a nice visit, great. Terri? Joe?”
Terri looked miserable. Joe glanced at his brother, then back at Kayla, shaking his head. “Sorry, Kayla. We’d better get going.”
Terri added quickly, “I was a fool to listen to them, Kayla. It sounded like so much fun. Next time we’ll call, I promise.” Her smile was sheepish. “If you’ll let there be a next time.”
“Of course there will.” Kayla was being way too gracious to these lowlifes, as far as Paul was concerned.
The girls were jumping up and down, trying to get someone’s attention. “But Kayla hasn’t opened her present yet,” Erica said, to which Sally added, “And she said we can have cookies.”
Kayla put her free arm around Sally’s small shoulder and ushered the girls toward the house. “Come into the kitchen, you two, and I’ll wrap up some nice cookies for your trip back home.”
“I’ll come, too,” Terri said, following Kayla and her daughters.
Leaving Paul with the two brothers. Steven continued to glare at him. The younger one seemed more curious than hostile. Again Paul reminded himself that that didn’t mean Joe was any better than the other, just able to mask it more successfully.
He didn’t feel like talking to either of them, so he picked up the ax, turned his back on them and went back to chopping wood. As he did, he was aware that two pairs of eyes were studying him, sizing him up. Tough. He owed them nothing. If they wanted to say something to him, that was up to them.
He placed a chunk of wood on the chopping post, swung the ax in a
high arc and brought it down with a hard crack! The sound filled the silence. Another swing of the ax. Crack! More silence, interrupted by a bird chattering in a far-off tree. One more swing of the ax. Crack!
“Paul Fitzgerald. That your full name?”
Steven’s question came from behind him, but Paul didn’t bother turning around or answering him.
“How long have you known Kayla?” Steven persisted.
“What business is that of yours?” Crack!
But then he got it. The little twerp intended to sic one of his high-priced detectives on him, which meant his background would be revealed. He also wanted to try to set up some kind of long-term affair going on during his father’s marriage. Negative evidence for his lawsuit. Fuel for his rage at the interloper.
He swung the ax so its blade was buried in the post. Fingers shoved into his back pockets, he turned and stared the man in the face. “A few days.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Can you prove it?”
He could have done so, of course. There was no way he could have had an affair with Kayla Thorne during her marriage to Walter Thorne, as he’d spent the entire time behind bars. Alibis didn’t get much tighter than that, he thought, aware of the irony but not even mildly amused.
But Steven would be finding that out in a day or so, anyway, which was a shame, because Paul’s record might actually give Steven’s paranoia some legitimacy. Still, there was no way Paul would make it any easier on him. “And just why would I want to prove that?”
Joe, the pacifier once again, said, “Hey, Steve, leave the guy alone.”
He shot his brother a quelling look. “He practically had her down on the ground.”
Through a jaw clenched in repressed fury, Paul said, “And your point is?”
“Steve.” Joe again.
His brother whirled on him. “Don’t you get it, Joe? The two of them probably planned the whole thing.”
Joe was shaking his head, trying to pacify his brother. “Steve, you’ve got to stop this. You have no proof.”
“You got that right.” Paul took a step toward Steven. He had several inches and at least fifty pounds on him, and he shot the other man a look that would have quelled any sane human being.
Whispers in the Night Page 12
