by Dale Mayer
“Were you flirting with her?”
“Maybe. She’s a good-looking woman. But since when is flirting leading somebody on? And everybody knew I was a happily married man,” he said in disgust. “I think all Lily wanted to do was mess up my marriage.”
“Was that the basis of the fight between the two women?” He hated to ask, but a part of him wanted to make sure that, although his dad had said he had never cheated, he hadn’t been heading there.
“As far as I can tell it was. Lily said something to Enid about a relationship with me. Enid came home. We had a fight. I told her the truth, and then she got on the blow horn and told Lily what she thought of her, and after that it was this horrible cold war between the two women. When Lily finally moved out West, I thought things would be a hell of a lot better. But I think your mom still held some harsh memories over the entire deal.”
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Blaze said. “Did you ever lead Lily on?”
“Did I flirt with her? Yes,” his dad said with more bluster than clarity. “I never kissed her. I never held her hand. I never asked her out. I never in any way suggested more. You know perfectly well I loved your mother.”
“I know,” Blaze said. “And what I’m hearing is, it sounds like Lily was a little unstable.”
“She’s looking for a rich husband. She seemed to think I would fit the bill. But she had to get rid of your mother first.”
Blaze’s breath caught in the back of his throat and stole the air from his chest.
His father gasped too and said, “I don’t know why I said that.”
“You mean, because Mom died within, what, six months of Lily leaving?”
“I don’t even think it was that long,” he said. “I think it was just before.”
“Which means the same time as—” Blaze said, his tone harsh, raspy. Just the thought of his mother having been murdered had thrown his entire countenance off-center. “I sure hope you were not being serious.”
“I have no reason not to be serious about this,” his father said. “I just know how much Lily hated your mother. But it never occurred to me anything was out of the ordinary with Enid’s accident. Neither did the cops.”
“And it was an accident, right?”
“Yes,” he said. “A horrible car accident. Twisted metal, fire, flames. It was terrible. And, no, it had nothing to do with Lily. Of that I’m sure …”
“And what about a cause?” There was an odd silence on the other end. “Dad, you told me it was a car accident, and I don’t remember too many of the details. Something about she just ran off the road, fell asleep or something on her way home from a long trip. Was that it?”
“That’s what they said,” his father said. “The trouble was, the vehicle was a wreck, and the fire pretty well destroyed everything. There were no brake tracks until the very edge of the road, as if she only saw at the very end the direction she was going and tried to correct it, but it was too late. It was at that hillocks corner, and you know how dangerous that is.”
“Yes,” Blaze said. “But, just as I know about it, so did Mom. That’s the most dangerous corner on the entire stretch. No way she would have taken it lightly.”
“I know,” his father said. “It didn’t occur to me at the time. I believed what the sheriff said.”
“And yet, now somebody has just attacked the sheriff.”
“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” his father said. “Remember this was over two years ago.”
“Not over two years ago,” he said. “I’m pretty damn sure we’re right down to the two-year anniversary almost exactly.”
“It’s two years tomorrow,” his father said. “So, yes, it is the anniversary of her death. Another reason why I’m having a rough time. Sitting here with a bottle of wine, thinking about all the years I was married and what I lost in that accident. So I really don’t want to contemplate the thought that somebody did that on purpose.”
“No,” Blaze said. “And I didn’t bring it up. The fact that you did though suggests that maybe it’s been sitting in your subconscious, and you just weren’t ready or able to deal with it up until now.”
“I’d feel like I completely betrayed my love if I never looked into her death only to find out years later what really happened. That some killer had gone free for two years while I was wrapped up in my sorrow,” he said.
“I wouldn’t look at it that way,” Blaze said. “But something has happened here that brought something very ugly to the surface. No, we don’t know that Mom’s accident was anything other than that. Right now we do need to get to the bottom of the attack on the sheriff.”
“When you call Henry, you should remember him. He was James’s younger brother.”
“James moved away a long time ago, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” his father said. “But Henry took on the deputy role. So he’s only twenty-five, twenty-six, and he might be perfectly capable of handling this. I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you contact him, let him know I’m in town if he wants a hand,” Blaze said. “I don’t want to step on his toes but can easily help out.”
“I hear you,” his father said, “and I’ll call him right now.”
“I’ll send you the photos of the gray car,” Blaze said.
“Okay, done deal,” his father said. They hung up.
Blaze took the next moment to send the photos of the car to his father, and then sent a text message. Maybe forward these on to Henry and see if he has any idea who owns this vehicle. It’ll take a local to identify it.
With that done, his father sent him a text. Contacted Henry. Got no answer but sent him a text. With any luck, he’ll contact you in the morning, so be ready.
Will do, Blaze replied. And then he turned out the lights and went to sleep.
Something woke him up a couple hours later. He tossed back the covers, opened the door of the bedroom and stepped out into the hallway. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, and then he checked the double doors of the master bedroom—one was slightly open. He crept down the hall and pushed the door open to find Camilla was no longer there.
Chapter 11
Camilla crept down the stairs. It had been that same howl that woke her up. Followed immediately by that weird knowing of something wrong. She didn’t really want to wake Blaze but neither did she really want to be alone downstairs. She figured she’d check out the odd noise first. If it was something serious, she’d send him a text.
She slipped down the first-floor hallway, past the room where she had all the boxes stacked. She was relieved to see that none had been touched. She did a further search and found nothing. Relieved, she gave a small laugh, thankful she hadn’t disturbed Blaze. He’d have given her shit for coming down alone in the first place. But she’d have felt stupid for waking him for no reason.
As she headed back down the hall, she heard a sound from the kitchen. Inside or outside? She frowned and crept to the entrance to the kitchen to look around. She saw a shadow outside the rear kitchen doors. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. She pulled out her phone and sent Blaze a text, hoping he would wake up. When she didn’t hear back from him immediately, she dialed him and, with the phone to her ear, watched as the shadow crept along from door to door. She followed the stranger’s progress and then wondered if she should shut down the alarm system so he’d come inside the house. Then she could nab him.
She shut down the alarms and, picking up the fireplace poker, returned to where she’d last seen the intruder. There was no sign of him. With her heart in her throat, she froze, worried he might have gotten in when she hadn’t been aware of it.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She stared at the double front doors. Chances were he was out there. What should she do about it?
Blaze didn’t answer her call or text. He must be a heavy sleeper, or his phone battery was dead. He was staying here impromptu and probably didn’t have his charger with him. She slipped her phone into her bathrobe and stepped up agains
t the front door. She put her head against the side, trying to listen. But there was nothing to hear. And then she watched the doorknob turn. She hefted the poker with two hands, stepping behind the door and waiting for it to open.
It pushed toward her silently. She waited, her heart pounding and her throat dry, but that poker was up, ready to smack the hell out of whoever it was trying to destroy her business. There was a slight shift in the shadows as somebody stepped into the hall but was still hidden behind the door. She frowned, worried that he’d see her and that she’d lose the element of surprise. She would get in one good whack, and maybe one good scream would get Blaze down here. And then her intruder stepped back out again. And the front door started to close.
“Oh no you don’t,” she yelled, and she charged after him. She caught a brief look at his surprised face, and then he bolted. And she bolted after him. She started screaming and yelling at him, brandishing the poker as she raced behind him. She didn’t know where she got the speed from except for maybe by her anger. But apparently her intruder had terror driving him. She chased after him down the driveway, across the road and into the woods. There he had the advantage. He bolted and dodged through the trees, and she was in her slippers and pajamas.
An unholy growl erupted from inside the woods followed by more screams—hopefully from her intruder.
“Good,” she screamed into the trees. “You get him, Solo.”
As she stepped back slightly she caught a glimpse of his car parked down the road at the neighbor’s. So it was the same asshole. “You coward,” she yelled. “What are you doing, sneaking into my house at night, you asshole?”
There was no answer. From man or canine.
She screamed in frustration until she heard a voice behind her. She spun the poker up in front of her again to see Blaze standing there in knit boxers, barefoot on one side, his prosthetic foot on the other, his hands on his hips, glaring at her.
She glared back.
But it was a little hard to be mad when this gorgeous male stood in front of her. And yet, even from where she stood in the odd light, she could see the scars and dents of a body that had been beaten by life. She walked forward.
“He ran in here,” she cried out, using the poker as a pointer. “He was about to come in the front door, and I was waiting for him, and maybe he figured out I was there. Maybe his instincts kicked in. I don’t know.” Frustration still rode her. “But, all of a sudden, he backed out and started to close the front door, and I yelled and came after him. The trouble is, I couldn’t really run in slippers.” She stared down at her slippers, now ready for the garbage.
Then she remembered Solo and she smirked. “I think he ran into Solo in the woods. I heard a terrible growling followed by male screams. So looks like she’s a better hunter than I am.”
Blaze glanced at her, his gaze going from the top of her head, down her camisole top to her shorty bottoms and the flimsy bathrobe that concealed little, then to the great big puppy slippers, and his lips twitched.
She smiled beguilingly up at him. “See?” Now she pointed out the intruder’s car. “It wasn’t so stupid to run after him. Solo woke me. I came outside, and he ran off into Solo, and now we can go and get his vehicle. That should tell us all kinds of stuff.”
“Only if he doesn’t get there before us,” Blaze snapped. He helped her up to the road and said, “I can’t believe it. What the hell were you thinking, coming after him on your own?”
“I would have had you here with me,” she snapped, “but you didn’t answer your phone, and neither did you respond to my text.”
“I came when I heard a noise,” he said in exasperation. “When you weren’t in your room, and I was coming down the stairs when I got your first text. Then I shut off my ringer, and I sent you a text.”
She glared at him, pulled out her phone. “Oh.”
He helped her move forward and said, “Let’s get to his vehicle.”
“Don’t you want some clothes on?” she asked, her gaze sweeping him from head to toe.
“No,” he said in exasperation. “I’m wearing the same thing as if going swimming. You, on the other hand, are exposed.”
“I’m not,” she cried, wafting the bathrobe edges in her hands. “I, at least, have a covering on.”
“How do you figure?” he asked, his hand under her elbow, leading her toward the gray car.
“Bathrobe,” she snapped. “It’s a coverup meant to be worn inside the house.”
“Not outside in the cool night air.” He shot her a disbelieving look, and his lips twitched. “All of which I can see through.”
And then she said, “Don’t you laugh at me.”
“No,” he said with a straight face. “But it’s better than what I really want to do with you.”
“What’s that?” she asked suspiciously.
“Turn you over my knee and smack you one,” he snapped. “I still can’t believe you went after that intruder on your own.”
“I wouldn’t have had to,” she said, “if you’d been there. Remember that part?”
He didn’t say a word, but his fingers tightened on her elbow. She pulled out of his grasp and said, “You don’t have to pull me or drag me down the street. You should be calling the sheriff.”
“He’s in the hospital. He was attacked this morning.”
She subsided at that. In a small voice she said, “I didn’t know that.”
“Now that you know, maybe you won’t be so hell-bent on going after the intruder alone.”
She didn’t say anything, just picked up her pace. “Don’t you think you should be contacting the deputy?”
“Don’t have his direct number. Not getting an answer at the sheriff’s office,” he said. He motioned at the car. “Since you made this find first, you might as well see if it’s unlocked.”
She reached for the driver’s side and pulled it open. And then crowed, “It is.”
He leaned into the front seat ahead of her, so all she could see was his very well-defined backside in snug black boxers as he dug into the glove box for the insurance and registration. He turned on the flashlight on his cell to read the information. “Rodney Pratt,” he said. “Does that name mean anything to you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“I’d sure like to know what his motivation is.” He laid the identification on the hood of the car and took photos of them. Those he sent off with an email.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching him. “You said you didn’t have the contact information for the deputy.”
“Not his direct line at work or his home number so I sent it to his work email,” he said.
For all Blaze knew, this asshole was still around, taking note of what they were doing. If it had been Blaze, he certainly would have been watching. He checked for a mounted license plate, but there wasn’t any. He took pictures of the vehicle on all four sides, and, finding the keys still inside, he popped them from the ignition and said, “Well, he’s not getting these back.”
She laughed with delight at that. “So then he’ll come to the house to get them.”
He slid her a sideways glance. “Why would you think that?”
“If he wants them back, right?”
“He’s parked outside your neighbor’s house. So why would he come to us?”
She frowned. “I assume,” she said slowly, “he’s watching us. Or hopefully he’s at home nursing some major bite marks from Solo.”
“I’d assume that too,” he said, “so come on. Let’s go back to the house. Nothing else we can do here right now. Besides, you shouldn’t be up here like you are.” He nudged her gently toward her house. “I’m sure somebody will be here soon enough.”
“Says you,” she snapped. She glared at the woods on the other side of the road. “The shepherd is in there, you know?”
“Did you see her?” he asked, his tone sharper than he’d intended.
“Not other than I’ve told you but you should have
heard her go after my intruder,” she said. “It’s like I could feel her watching. Maybe Solo is guarding her new turf.”
“Or guarding you,” he said quietly looking at her seeing the quiet pleasure on her face at the thought. “And somebody else could have been watching too,” he said, “but it could have just as easily been your intruder. Did you get a good look at him?”
“I’m pretty sure it was the guy from before, the same build each time,” she said. “I did see his face just now but only briefly. He wore the same black outfit, including the hoodie over his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face. Not enough to be able to draw him or anything,” she said, “but I think I’d recognize him next time.”
“Well, that’s something,” he said, “but you didn’t know him, right?”
“No,” she said, “I didn’t. And I do know a lot of people in town, although … something was very familiar about him,” she said cautiously. “Now that I think about it, I didn’t get a long-enough look to confirm that.”
“Where do you think you would have seen him before?” he asked.
“I’m not sure, but it’s almost like it might have been somebody I saw at one of my mom’s events.”
“What events did she have?”
“She was big on anything that gave her publicity,” she said, a caustic tone in her voice. “But that’s being mean again. If there’s ever a button that’ll get me going, it’s that one.”
“You mean, your mother button?” he asked with a chuckle. “We all have a few of those.”
“I wonder though,” she said. “Just because I might have seen him, it doesn’t mean my mother has anything to do with this.”
“Of course not,” he said. “Why would she?”
“Exactly,” she said.
They were almost at the house. She walked inside and said, “And, of course, we left it open. But you knew that.”
