The dark-haired man turned and his smile broadened. “Steve.” He reached out and drew his friend into a bear hug.
Right. Two hot men. Built like athletes. Gay. She should have seen that one coming.
“Glad you came,” Steve said, then noticed Whitney standing behind his friend and lost the grin he sported.
In her head, Whitney replayed the conversation they’d had early that day. Wouldn’t a detective know if a woman had drowned or not? She’d think so.
So what was he hiding? Should she be concerned?
“You’re a cop?” She studied him closely.
His blue-gray eyes darkened. “I’m here on vacation.”
Whitney looked between the two, a flash of something shiny on the other man’s finger catching her eye. A ring. The man was married. So maybe they weren’t gay. Either way, it didn’t matter. She had sworn off men forever.
Whitney walked out of the café to her car and slid in behind the steering wheel. All the good-looking men were trouble and she’d do well to remember that.
She snorted, and then started her car. Too bad her hormones kept forgetting.
On her way to pick up her daughter, Whitney wondered again about the woman who’d drowned in the lake. Who was she? She hadn’t heard about anyone missing and Bethany Albright, Kylie’s sitter, would have told her if that were the case. The woman was the eyes and ears of Marble. If you needed something to get around, you told her. Bethany never knew when to mind her own business. So who was this woman? More importantly, had she drowned or had someone helped her along? That kind of information was important to a single mother living on her own.
The detective was certainly tight-lipped. Maybe she should just mind her own business. She had enough to worry about. A stranger drowning wasn’t anything that affected her unless she lost her job because of it, and so far, no one seemed to know anything about the event. Maybe it would stay buried long enough to keep anyone from canceling their reservations for the weekend. She was sure Mason hoped that.
Whitney pulled into Bethany’s driveway and killed the engine. As she started toward the house, her friend popped her head out the door.
“Everything okay?” Whitney hoped Kylie’s temperature hadn’t spiked again.
“Everything’s fine. Kylie and Dominic are in his room playing. Why don’t you stay for supper? I could use some adult company.”
Whitney shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m beat.”
“I heard a rumor today.” Bethany’s amber eyes glistened with excitement as they entered the house. “Is it true there’s a good looking guy staying out at the lodge?”
Whitney wasn’t sure if she should tell her yes or not. The woman had been through every available man in Marble and then some and was obviously hoping for some fresh blood.
“Actually, I think he’s just here for a few days and he has a friend who just arrived. They’re probably here to fish, not get cozy with any of the locals.”
The smile on Bethany’s olive-skinned face faded away. “I hate men that fish.”
“We live in a resort town known for great fishing, Bethany. Most people who come to Marble are here to fish and hike.”
Bethany visibly cringed. “Yeah, and I hate both. I’ll be lucky if I ever find the man of my dreams.”
“I think you’re going to have to lower your expectations a little.”
“Right, or give up on men altogether like you have.”
“I — ”
“Momma.” Whitney’s daughter barreled toward her.
Whitney scooped Kylie up in her arms and swirled her around, the shoulder-length pigtails in the girl’s hair swinging like a propeller. She pulled her in and squeezed her tight, then pulled back. “Did you have fun today?”
Kylie’s cherub-like face lit up with excitement. “Dominic got a new truck and we played with it.”
“You did?”
The little girl’s head bobbed up and down.
“Are you ready to go home? Harold made your favorite for supper.”
Her light green eyes brightened.
Whitney placed her onto the floor. “Go get your shoes and we’ll go.”
Kylie shot out of the room and came back seconds later holding a pair of white canvas slip-ons. Whitney quickly slid her tiny feet into them, then lifted her and headed out of the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Beth.”
“Okay. Drive safe.”
“I will, and thanks.”
“Hey, remember you owe me a rain check on supper.”
Whitney walked toward her car. “I will. See you later.”
She loaded Kylie into her car seat and came around to get in the driver’s side. By the time she and her daughter ate and Kylie had a bath, Whitney would be ready to fall into bed. The last two days had left her exhausted. Hopefully, fatigue would keep her mind from wandering when her head hit the pillow. She craved sleep more than she needed to think about the two handsome strangers in cabin four or the identity of the woman in the lake. Neither was any concern to her. Only Kylie held that coveted position.
• • •
“I know you think this woman needs you to solve her murder, but why do it with a veil of secrecy?” Flint studied him closely.
Steve shifted his stance and glanced around the cabin, hoping for the right words to explain why he needed to do this. Flint had no idea he was in Marble on a forced sabbatical and Steve didn’t know if he should keep it that way or tell him the truth. He decided to stick to the basics. “Because my boss wouldn’t let me investigate the case if he knew, and it’s not completely under the radar. The sheriff from Carbondale asked me to help and we both agreed that we needed to keep everything on the down-low.”
Flint nodded. “I feel a little better now.”
“He’ll be signing off on anything that needs to be sent for analysis.”
“So, why am I here?”
“I have some DNA I need you to send to Washington.”
“When?”
“I need it done as quickly as possible.”
Flint blew out a breath. “Okay, but to get it done yesterday, I’ll have to hand deliver it and stand over their shoulders until they’ve finished.”
“You’d do that for me?” Steve could always count on his cousin.
“I would. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to see my sister and niece.”
“Speaking of family, how’s Adriana?”
“She wanted to come, but since we’ve had Seeley, it’s not easy to just go somewhere without a week’s worth of planning. My girls are what is commonly referred to as high maintenance.”
“That’s why I’m never getting married.”
Flint smiled. “Never say never, Steve. That used to be my mantra until I laid eyes on Dray. The moment I saw her I knew I’d have to eat those words.”
Steve snorted. “That’s exactly what my partner said when he met his wife. One look from her and he’d lost his man card.”
“I don’t feel less of a man since marrying Dray. If anything, she’s made me feel more of one.”
Steve wasn’t going to stand there and argue. Maybe there was something to meeting that one woman, but he wasn’t holding out hope. He had too many problems to bring anyone else into them. He was too focused on work to make a woman happy and he was sure his problem since the accident would be a deal breaker. Anyone would have to be missing a screw to get involved with him.
Steve forced himself back to the job at hand. “I’ll drive you out to Doc Leland’s. I appreciate you doing this for me, Flint.”
His cousin smiled and slapped him on the back. “Hey, that’s what family’s for.”
• • •
Whitney woke with a start and looked around her bedroom, confused as to what brought her out of sleep. She
rubbed at her tired eyes and glanced at the clock. One in the morning.
She pulled herself against the headboard and stared at the open door.
A scraping noise sent both her pulse and heart racing.
What was it? Sounded as if it came from outside.
Her thoughts ran wild. Had she locked the doors before she’d gone to bed? Were the windows secured? At that moment, she couldn’t remember.
Kylie’s safety in the forefront of her mind, Whitney jumped out of bed and raced toward the living room as a shadow crossed in front of a window off to her left.
Panic set in.
Whitney shot across the room to check the lock on the front door. Once she found it secured, she stumbled toward the kitchen in the dark to the back door. She hardly ever left that one unlocked, but she took the trash out right before bed and was in a rush to get inside to check on Kylie.
She slammed against it and checked the bolt, sliding the linked chain into the slot. She then went for the phone. If she called 9-1-1, it would take too long for help to get there. She’d call Harold. He could be at her house in ten minutes.
Her hands shook as she punched in the number.
Whitney waited, watching the front and back door from the hall between the two rooms. The door handle on the front door rattled and Whitney sucked in a breath, hoping she’d actually locked the door instead of unlocked it.
At the sound of her friend’s sleepy voice, Whitney’s heart jumped in her chest.
“Harold?” she whispered into the phone, pressing herself flat against the wall. “Someone’s trying to break into my house.”
“Whitney?”
“Yes, hurry. I’m afraid they’re going to get in.”
“I’m on my way. Grab Kylie and hide.”
Whitney dropped the phone and ran down the hall to Kylie’s room. Taking care not to wake her, she scooped her into her arms and left the small bedroom. In the utility closet, there was a secret room that she’d happened across four months into moving into the home. It’d be the best place for her to hide until Harold came.
Whitney opened the closet and ducked inside, releasing a hook from above to get into the room. The crawlspace was where she planned to hide Kylie’s Christmas and birthday presents to prevent her daughter from finding them.
Inside the small room, she closed the door and slid down, her back propped against a beam just in case the intruder found them. It would help keep him from getting in if she stretched her legs to the wall on the other side.
Whitney’s skin crawled when she remembered the last time she was in the room. Cobwebs filled the walls and floor and where there were webs, there were spiders. She hated them — always had. Thank God Kylie was sleeping. She’d be screaming bloody murder.
Breaking glass sent her heart into arrest. The intruder was going to get into the house.
What was he after? She didn’t have anything a robber would want — nothing worth risking prison time for. So why break into her house?
Shuffling near the utility door had her blood running cold and pumping hard throughout her body. He was going to find them if Harold didn’t get here soon.
The creaking of the door brought a scream to her throat, but she held it in. On the other side of the secret room, she heard deep, shallow breathing.
She and Kylie were going to die if she didn’t do something. A thump against her back stopped her heart.
Whitney held her breath.
Seconds ticked by in agony with no sound or movement.
Then she heard footfall down the hallway, and then nothing again. The quiet completely unhinged her.
What was happening? Had Harold arrived and encountered the intruder? Had she placed him in harm’s way to save her and Kylie?
“Whitney? Where are you?”
Relief washed over her when she recognized Harold’s voice.
Using her legs as leverage, Whitney slid her back up the wall and rose. Kylie tucked in her arms, she exited the makeshift door and left the utility closet. On the other side, she called to Harold.
They met in the hall. “You okay?”
A darkened figure came through the front door and Whitney panicked again. She back-stepped, planning to retreat back into her hiding place.
She stopped when Harold questioned the figure. “Did you see anything?”
“No. But a side window’s been busted out.”
Whitney recognized the voice immediately. It was the detective in cabin four, but how had he found out about her break in?
He came down the hall and stared at Kylie in her arms. “Did you get a look at the guy?”
Whitney shook her head. “No. I saw a shadow cross by a window and called Harold. How did you find out about this?” she asked, still shocked by his presence. Hadn’t he been entertaining his friend?
“I was coming back to town when a car raced by me like a bat out of hell with its flashers on. I knew something was wrong, so I followed the sedan out here.”
“I’m sure glad you did.” Harold clasped the detective’s shoulder. “I wasn’t sure what I’d run into. It’s good to have someone backing me up.”
“Yes, it is.” He turned to Whitney again. “Have you ever had a break-in before?”
“No. I don’t own anything anyone would want. Not even a decent television set.”
He looked around the house and scratched his chin. Then he looked at Kylie still asleep in Whitney’s arms. If the intruder wasn’t after her belongings, then he was after her or her daughter. She glanced down at Kylie and tears welled in her eyes.
“Kylie’s dad,” the detective said, drawing her attention back to him. “You two aren’t in any kind of custody battle are you?”
Whitney laughed out loud, almost waking Kylie. “No. He hasn’t ever seen her and doesn’t care to.”
“Do you have a friend you could stay with for a few days? I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here. This guy might come back.”
Picturing the man returning made Whitney’s knees knock together, the mere thought petrified her. But she didn’t have anyone she could ask to take her in, not even Bethany. No way would she put her and Dominic at risk.
Whitney shook her head. “I don’t have anyone.”
“You can stay with me, Whitney.”
Harold’s invitation touched her heart. But she couldn’t accept his offer.
“No. You have Mary and the kids to think about. If this guy is after me, then that would put them in danger.”
“Go pack a few things for you and your daughter,” the detective said. “You can stay with me at the cabin, at least until morning.”
Whitney’s eyes widened at the prospect. “No, I couldn’t. You have company.”
“Company?” The man’s eyes narrowed, his dark blond eyebrows drawing together slightly.
“Your friend from the café.”
“You mean Flint? No. He’s on his way to Washington.”
“Still, I can’t stay with you. People would talk.”
“You can and you will. Now go do what I told you.”
The way he insisted gave Whitney no choice but to listen. She trudged to her room and placed Kylie onto the bed, and then went to her closet to grab an overnight bag.
Even if she refused him, where else would she go? She couldn’t afford to rent a motel and all of Mason’s cabins would be occupied by the end of tomorrow. Her only options would be to go with the detective, or stay here and hope the intruder didn’t return. She couldn’t chance that. Not with Kylie. Her daughter’s safety was her top priority, and staying with the detective was best for now — even if doing so made Whitney more than uncomfortable.
Chapter Four
Steve unlocked the cabin’s door and held it open for Whitney.
He placed her bag on the floor and removed his jacket. He had no idea what possessed him to invite her to stay with him. Her lack of options probably and that nagging feeling in his gut — something Whitney had no idea about. She had the same coloring as the woman in the lake. That could mean something, or it might not, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Marble could have a serial rapist/killer on their hands.
In the morning, he’d call Doc Leland and ask if he could determine the color of the victim’s eyes. He may be overreacting with this whole thing, but it was better to err on the side of caution.
“Go ahead and put her to bed,” he told Whitney when he noticed her fidgeting. She looked troubled by this arrangement. Boy, could he relate. This was going to be a difficult night. Thank God there wasn’t much left of it.
“I don’t feel right about taking your bed.” Her acknowledgement made Steve feel guilty about what he’d been thinking.
“It’s okay. I don’t sleep much anyway.”
Her eyes narrowed, seeming skeptical about that.
“Really, please take the baby to bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“All right. If you’re sure.”
Steve smiled reassuringly and walked to the couch. He plopped down and started to unlace his boots. Bone weary would be an understatement for how he felt right now, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.
As he pulled off his Dexter’s, he watched her tuck the child under the blankets, the tender look on her lovely face touching his heart. This young woman loved her little girl.
“What do you think that man was after?” she asked in a hushed tone once she’d gotten her daughter settled.
Steve wasn’t about to add to her worries. “Only he knows.”
Her green eyes grew intense. “But you do have your suspicions?”
For the first time since he’d met her, Steve found himself transfixed on her mouth as she spoke. Her lips were the color of strawberries ripe for picking, her bottom lip jutting out into a perfect pout without actually affecting the pose.
“Do you think he was there to rape me?”
Watching Whitney Page 3
