Killer Romances

by Dana Delamar, Talullah Grace, Sandy Loyd, Kristine Mason, Dale Mayer, Nina Pierce Chantel Rhondeau, K. T. Roberts, H. D. Thomson, Susan Vaughan

  Calling the police crossed Lucy’s mind, but a heartbeat later she discarded the thought. She was better off not involving Oakmont’s finest. The sheriff wasn’t so bad, but he didn’t work nights. One of his two deputies, whom she’d nicknamed Dumb and Dumber, usually pulled night duty and neither would be useful in this situation. She’d always wondered how they kept their jobs, until she’d heard that both men’s fathers were friends of Judge Cardello.

  Lucy grabbed the card off the counter that Jack had written his phone number on, reaching for the phone at the same time. Then glancing at the clock above the stove, she pressed the Disconnect button after punching in the last number, and set the phone in the cradle.

  Still holding her .22, Lucy rubbed her bare arms and paced, struggling to remain rational. She was armed. It was almost four in the morning. She was being what her grandmother had termed a nervous Nellie. Having survived living on the streets, very little scared her. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been afraid of being alone, so why was she so spooked now?

  What if Jack was involved with searching her house? No. That didn’t wash. He’d had the thumb drive, so he’d had no reason. Plus, he hadn’t expected her absence while she’d broken into his house. Yet someone had been in her house, someone who most likely knew she hadn’t been home. And that meant someone was spying on her.

  Lucy turned off the lamps in the living room and went over to the window to peek through the mini-blind. A streetlight glowed in the middle of the block and left the surrounding houses in shadows. Except for Mrs. Thomson’s. Her overly bright porch light stayed on twenty-four/seven. Tree branches swayed in the wind, but Lucy noted no other movement. The street appeared too quiet…too normal…like the calm before a tornado.

  She headed back to the kitchen, set her gun on the counter, and continued pacing. Shaking her hands and rolling her shoulders, she inhaled deeply, trying to relax, but her heart rate only increased.

  Damn. Why wouldn’t her sixth sense shut down? That was it. She’d never been afraid before, because she’d always depended on her instincts.

  Right now, every cell in her body was shouting that something wasn’t right.

  She snatched the phone again and hit Redial before she could change her mind.

  “Jack. It’s Lucy,” she whispered into the mouthpiece when she heard his hello. Since Cassie was missing, she had no one else to call. “Can you come over?” Okay, she sounded like the sappy, weak heroine, but damn it all, she was totally petrified.

  “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t usually get this freaked out.” Lucy glanced back at the bathroom door and shivered. She rubbed her arm and added, “I think someone’s been in my house and I’m scared.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Thankfully, Lucy didn’t have to wait long, even though the quarter hour dragged. No amount of checking and rechecking the window every other minute had done a damned bit of good to make the time zoom by faster or ease her anxiety.

  “Thanks for coming,” Lucy said in a grateful tone after opening the door to Jack’s knock, stopping short of flinging herself into his arms. That right there should have warned her that she was changing her usual MO. Normally, she wasn’t a hugger. Didn’t like clingers, yet that’s what she’d become in a matter of hours.

  “No problem.” Winking conspiratorially, he flashed his same easy smile that she shouldn’t find so engaging. Jack was only being nice, but in this instance, she welcomed nice. “I’m always available, especially when it comes to rescuing women in need.”

  Lucy’s lips curled at the edges. He did seem like some kind of knight in shining armor just then, and for the life of her she couldn’t comprehend why, when she’d nixed that perception of him long ago. The memory of that cruel bastard who’d pulled the rug out from under her life with his rules and stipulations was next to impossible to hold on to when he stood in front of her appearing so solid and in control, not to mention so attractive.

  Nothing, not even worn sweats, could diminish his male beauty. Jack had never flaunted his blond good looks and had never been the least bit conceited because of them. He’d always been a heartthrob, in Lucy’s opinion. Jack could wear a burlap sack and he’d stand out. If anything, the sharper edge of maturity added to his appeal.

  She cleared her throat and rocked back on her heels, suddenly feeling unsure of everything. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she wondered if she hadn’t subconsciously manifested the fear to get Jack into her house.

  Lucy looked away to conceal what her eyes might reveal, because she had to admit, the thought held a touch of truth. Here he was, in her house, standing only a few feet away, and that felt…indescribable. No, she countered mentally, remembering what had happened to bring him here. He’s only here because I freaked out, she reminded herself. And I can’t forget that Cassie’s missing.

  Maybe so, Lucy argued back, still touched that Jack had actually charged to her aid. Despite their past run-ins, the idea of Jack as her proverbial white knight now only made him all the more attractive. It felt too damn good to know that someone, other than Cassie, cared enough to lose sleep and rush over simply because of a phone call.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. What in the hell was wrong with her? Get a grip and quit being taken in with such stupid sentimentality, she chided herself silently. Lucy risked a glance at Jack, but thankfully, he was paying her and her mental debate no attention.

  Jack was much more interested in his surroundings, his gaze landing first on her sofa and chairs, then roaming to the hallway leading to the bedroom before returning to her face. “So, why do you think someone’s been in here?”

  Lucy’s smile took hold at his patient tone and she could hug him all over again for the way his body language said he trusted her judgment.

  Concern, not skepticism, shone from his blue eyes as Jack listened intently while she updated him, starting with her feelings of being watched, moving on to the few items she’d found out of place, and rationalizing with the possible cat-loves-to-play explanation. Then Lucy indicated the bathroom with her head. “But I keep the bathroom door shut.”

  “Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing. “Toilet paper?”

  She laughed as any remaining doubts about imposing on him fled and most of the tension left her shoulders. “I knew there was a reason I called you.” She shook her head and exhaled a relieved sigh. At least they shared one commonality. Cats. “Sadie is banned from both bathrooms, which means she couldn’t have moved my sheets and towels or emptied my clothes hamper.”

  “Hmm.” Jack opened the door and inspected both the closet and the hamper. “Whoever it was, he was obviously looking for something.” He glanced at her and an eyebrow shot up. “You said you felt someone watching you. Do you think this has anything to do with the thumb drive you took out of Frank’s safe?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Lucy said honestly. “I mean, you saw Olivia Cardello’s reaction. I’m guessing that was due to their discovery the drive was missing from the safe. Who else knows about it?” She hesitated. “And why would the Cardellos bother searching my place?” Jack had to have mentioned something to the judge about its recovery.

  “Good point.” Jack broke off. A few seconds later, he shrugged. “Maybe this has nothing to do with the drive.”

  “Maybe.” Lucy didn’t sound very convincing…mainly because she wasn’t convinced. Tonight was the first time she’d ever felt uncomfortable in her own home since moving in three years ago. She ran a hand through her hair and launched a hopeful glance his way. “I realize it’s a big imposition, but could you stay? Please?” She was totally begging, but so what? There was no way she was going to stay alone in the house. Not tonight. Her request had nothing to do with physical attraction. Well, maybe a teensy-weensy bit, but not enough that she couldn’t keep her emotions in check for one night, for goodness’ sake. Even if Cassie weren’t missing, she’d never su
ccumb to lust. Not with her intimacy issues and her need to be in control at all times.

  Lucy could take or leave sex. In fact, she preferred the latter.

  In her past relationships, she’d just pretended to enjoy the act. She certainly wasn’t about to give any guy the power to hurt her, so when things got emotional, she usually bailed.

  The eye-opening thought stopped her in her tracks as the memories of those relationships and those few men surfaced. Viewing from the hindsight perspective, she recognized a slight shallowness in the mental pictures. Lucy’s partners claimed to want love, when in reality, they’d been as emotionally challenged as she. Otherwise, one might have called her on her bullshit. She pushed out the disturbing thoughts and added, “I have a decent guest bed and I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”

  “Best offer I’ve had in a while.” He had to grasp her desperation. Yet he only eyed her in that charming way, which shouldn’t do little things to her insides, but did.

  Okay, physical attraction mattered here, more than a teensy-weensy bit. However, the pain in the ass standing in front of her would never be satisfied with pretense, and he was the last person she wanted to find attractive. Lucy looked away as an uncomfortable rush of heat hit her cheeks.

  “Just point the way,” Jack said.

  “The bathroom with the hamper is my guest bath and I keep fresh sheets on the bed in the guest room.” For Cassie, she thought, pointing across the hall and staring at the closed door, as a sudden burst of loneliness engulfed her. Her friend crashed here if they got to talking late in the night or if she drank too much to drive back to Louisville.

  Lucy smiled bravely at Jack and tried not to think about all of the horrible possibilities that might have happened to Cassie. If anything, Lucy had to remain upbeat and positive. “So, the room’s all made up and ready to go.”

  Jack nodded. “Thanks.”

  “I even have extra toothbrushes if you haven’t brushed your teeth. Toothpaste is in the drawer. There’s soap. And towels. In case you want to shower.” Great, now she was babbling. Lucy cleared her throat and shoved a handful of hair behind her ear. “Well, good night. And thanks for staying.” With that, she turned and hurried into her room, shutting the door before she said anything else that made her appear like some kind of blithering idiot. Jack was used to women who were chic and sophisticated. Not clumsy and inarticulate like her.

  She flipped on her iPod and punched the button to bring up her favorite crooner. Michael Bublé’s voice usually worked to relax her.

  “Go to sleep, Lucy,” she murmured, dropping onto her bed and sticking the earbuds into her ears, not bothering to get under the covers.

  Sleep was elusive. The thought of Jack sleeping on the other side of the wall kept her awake for much, much too long.

  ~~~

  Jack stood at the bathroom door, having silently watched Lucy rush inside her room like she was escaping a fire. He had no doubt as to why, after having picked up on the sudden sexual tension in the air. Eyes didn’t lie and he’d spotted awareness in hers. Maybe running was a good idea and something he should reconsider. After all, this attraction had taken a sudden turn. Why else would he jump at her request to come over? And why else would he stay?

  Rolling his eyes, he begged for divine intervention over his idiocy. Seriously, he had to be a glutton for punishment. He knew damned well he should be following her lead and backing away, not contemplating how to catch her off guard enough to stop another retreat. Yep. He was totally nuts for being here and wanting her. Hadn’t his ordeal with Ginny taught him anything? Jack had experienced firsthand how women with an ax to grind against the world could be deadly to anyone who got involved with them.

  Lucy Maddox damn sure wasn’t his problem, except that someone—someone possibly under the mistaken impression that she had the thumb drive—had been in her house. Thoughts of Frank and Olivia entered his brain just then and he latched on to them. Anything to distract him from his prurient thoughts. Unfortunately, this new direction wasn’t any less conflicting. He couldn’t silence his inner voice as a spark of unease flickered to life.

  Jack felt responsible. He peered at Lucy’s closed bedroom door with one question. Would Frank or Olivia actually break into her house?

  He headed into the guest bath and closed the door. Staring into the mirror, he had to be honest with his reflection. Before this week, his answer would be an absolute no. But their actions in the last few days, along with Frank’s comments tonight, had the “maybe” that had crept into his consciousness over the last few hours mushroom into a full blown “yes.”

  Face it, Jack. You’ve only been back in Oakmont for a few months.

  In that time, the whirlwind of Frank’s campaign had kept them from really having any one-on-one’s. Since he was being brutally honest, he admitted to the need to stay immersed in mundane tasks…so he wouldn’t have time to dwell on Ginny or her death or what led up to it.

  The torment of that memory rushed back so fast, as if it had been sitting on the sidelines waiting to infiltrate his brain and kick his butt with more remorse.

  Jack’s fiancée had been blown to bits in an ambush she’d been ill equipped to handle, all the while he’d slept. How could he ever forgive himself? He’d damn sure never give himself permission to sleep as soundly again.

  Ginny shouldn’t have died. She had no business checking out a lead without backup, which he’d aided and abetted by not notifying her partner to what she’d uncovered. If only he’d been able to stop her. He couldn’t watch her twenty-four/seven. Hell, he shouldn’t have had to.

  Three nineteen-hour back-to-back days of working on a case with only four hours of shut-eye in between had left Jack dead on his feet by the end of the third day and asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow. Unfortunately, Ginny, in enthusiastic recklessness, decided not to wake him or call her partner. Both mistakes proved fatal.

  Anguished eyes stared back at him in the mirror.

  Death is a fact every police officer deals with it. But Ginny wasn’t the only casualty. No one in Ginny’s unit escaped the grief of mourning a dead comrade that night. Too many, including her superior officer and her partner, were left with Jack’s same guilt.

  Jack shook his head to push away the guilt. He threw some water on his face and wiped it with a towel before shutting out the light and easing into the bedroom, not bothering with a lamp. Light from the window cast enough illumination into the shadows that he easily found his way to the guest bed.

  Catnaps were a way of life for him now. He waited until he was totally exhausted before he could doze for a few hours. Never more than two or three. Just enough to rejuvenate. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in over six months, so Lucy’s call hadn’t woken him.

  Sleep was what Jack needed right now, as he slipped under the covers and forced all thoughts out of his mind. Without shut-eye, he wouldn’t be able to think clearly and he needed a clear head to solve this mystery. More importantly, he needed a clear head before confronting Frank.

  He punched the pillow and tried to get comfortable. Thankfully, as he lay there on his side, his memories of Ginny receded. But only seconds elapsed before thoughts of Lucy Maddox replaced them.

  Glancing at the adjoining wall and hearing nothing, he figured she was probably sleeping soundly less than twenty feet away. He wondered what she wore to bed, if anything, and all too quickly the unwanted memory of kissing her washed over him.

  For the hundredth time that night, the same question popped into his brain, one he was dying to discover. What happened after kissing? And for the hundredth time, he also reminded himself that getting sexually involved was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it. Except sated lust. And why all of a sudden was he so interested in sex—with Lucy, of all people—when for over six months he could barely stomach the idea of getting within arm’s distance of anyone?

  Jack turned onto his back and stared at the dark ceiling, willing his mind to shut d
own. Even though there were only a couple of hours of darkness left, they had the potential to be some of the longest hours of his life. Especially since he was horny as hell and sleep eluded him.

  Chapter 5

  Lucy climbed out of bed the next morning and groggily ambled into the bathroom, barely avoiding tripping over Sadie who purposefully weaved in and out between her feet. Eventually, she made her way to the kitchen, feeling more human after washing her face, brushing her teeth, and pulling a comb through her tangled hair, but at this point she really needed a cup of tea. The reflection she’d caught in the mirror said it all. She hadn’t slept worth a damn, and an intruder who’d broken into her house wasn’t the reason.

  Well, technically it was. Jack’s presence was way too disturbing. Just knowing he lay under her roof, mere feet from her, divided only by Sheetrock, had kept the butterflies flapping under her ribs all night.

  She slammed the teapot under the faucet. “Quit being so damned shallow,” Lucy said under her breath, while waiting for it to fill with water. She should be thinking about finding Cassie, not about slipping inside Jack’s room to see if he slept in the nude or not.

  Lucy set the teapot on the stove and ignited the gas burner. Then giving in to Sadie’s demands, she fed the cat before grabbing a mug from the cupboard, right as the object of her unwanted, X-rated thoughts sauntered into the kitchen looking like he’d just rolled out of bed…sleepy-eyed, unshaven, and sporting bed head.

  Jack had slept without a shirt, wearing only sweatpants that hung low on his waist and revealed a tantalizing glimpse of soft hair that pointed south. Lucy purposefully averted her gaze, unwilling to ponder what the sweats covered.

  She cleared her throat and let her hair cover her warm cheeks—a dead giveaway to her thoughts. “I’m making tea.” She moved to the refrigerator to take out the milk, grabbing the eggs at the same time. Without looking at him, she asked, “If you’d like a cup?”