“Shelby must’ve inherited her love of ketchup from you.” Julia wrinkled her nose. “She smothers her fries with the stuff, too.”
Beaming, Ryder glanced up from his ketchup operation. “She does?”
A pain twisted in her chest. Ryder didn’t know much about his daughter. Did he want to learn? Julia flattened her palms on the smooth tabletop. “Was Gracie there?”
“Nope.”
“She’s about to get a taste of her own busybody medicine.” She grimaced, the thought giving her no satisfaction at all.
Ryder popped a drenched french fry into his mouth and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “I dreamed about these fries while I was eating boiled goat in Somalia.”
“Is that all you dreamed about?” All she’d been dreaming about since they made love was a repeat performance, but since she’d taken up residence at the McClintock ranch, they’d only exchanged a few furtive kisses.
He stopped mid-chew, a smudge of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. Julia extended her hand and dabbed the ketchup with the tip of her finger. Then she sucked the ketchup from her fingertip and she didn’t even like ketchup.
Ryder swallowed his food and then took a long draw from his iced tea. “The Miner’s french fries and sex.”
Her brows shot up. “In that order?”
“At the same time.”
Ryder’s low chuckle ignited a flame in her belly and she choked out, “At the same…”
She jumped as the chair next to her scraped against the wood floor and Rafe straddled it. He hung over the back and snatched a fry from Ryder’s plate.
“Ugh, why do you have to ruin them by soaking them in ketchup?” He dropped the fry back on Ryder’s plate and dusted his hands together.
“Have you located Charlie yet?” Ryder scooted the fry Rafe touched off his plate.
“Nope, and Gracie is kicking up a fuss. She insists her baby boy is lying injured and near death somewhere, a victim of the killer who strangled Rosie.”
Julia gulped and twisted a napkin on the table. She’d had the same feeling. “Do you have any evidence linking Charlie to Rosie’s murder?”
“Other than the fact that he had the hots for her and she was probably just leading him on?” Rafe shrugged. “No. Whoever did this covered his tracks. No clear footprints, no evidence left on the body that we can detect, no witnesses.”
“But you have Brody’s card.”
“Which we think she was about to give to my big brother here. But without the info as to where she got that card, it’s useless.” He cocked an eyebrow at Ryder. “You’re sure she didn’t give you any names over the phone?”
“You think I wouldn’t tell you?” Ryder finished the last of his burger, wiped his mouth with a napkin and tossed it onto his ketchup-smeared plate. “No name. She wanted the cash first, but you’re not going to pass that tidbit along to Ballard, are you?”
Rafe shook his head and then bestowed his boyish grin on the waitress. “Could you please bring me an order of fries and a glass of lemonade?”
Folding his arms across the back of the chair, Rafe said, “Sheriff Ballard has checked out. He turned most of this investigation over to me and Duke Lambert, and I’m sure we’ll have the rest of the San Juan County Sheriff’s Department descending on us soon. They’ve already taken over Zack’s murder.”
“Yeah, I know. They questioned me about the attack the night of Zack’s murder.” Julia rubbed the goose bumps that popped up on her arms. Every time she thought about that night, a tide of dark fear swept through her body. The ether-soaked cloth made it clear her assailant had something other than murder in store for her.
“Are you all right?” Ryder clasped her shoulder with warm, strong fingers, banishing the terror that engulfed her.
She felt safe in his presence, in his family’s home. But what if the Sheriff’s Department couldn’t catch this maniac before Ryder left for parts unknown? She and Shelby couldn’t stay with his family, not without the cocoon of security Ryder offered. She couldn’t face this threat alone, didn’t want to.
“I’m fine.” She shoved back from the table. “I have to get back to the shop to help Maddie. We were in the middle of inventory.”
“After I help Rod with some projects around the ranch, I’m going out to your house to check the tapes from the cameras. Do you need anything?”
“I’ll meet you there when we close up the shop at six o’clock. Shelby’s been asking for a few toys she left behind.”
Julia left the two brothers at the table and stood on the sidewalk, blinking in the bright sunlight. Summer tourists back from morning hikes or fishing or the train ride to Durango thronged Silverhill’s main street, ducking in and out of restaurants and souvenir shops. They laughed and licked ice-cream cones and sipped wine, unaware of Rosie’s murder, and only slightly uneasy about the murder of a sheriff’s deputy.
Once the news about the murder got out, the Silverhill Chamber of Commerce would whir into action. Silverhill prided itself on its quaint, hometown reputation far from the glittery crowds at Aspen. Two murders in the space of a week just torpedoed hometown quaintness.
And the city fathers could thank her for that.
RYDER POPPED the disc out of the camera and slid a new one into the slot. Then he rearranged the dried leaves of the plant to hide the camera. A few of the leaves broke apart in his hand and he brushed off the debris against the seat of his jeans. Julia had really taken his advice to heart when he told her not to water the plants.
Her car pulled up to the house and she jumped out, tugging at her short, flirty skirt. The light sweater that topped her skirt hugged her body and revealed a sliver of skin on her flat stomach. Her dark hair danced loosely about her shoulders.
Since recovering her memories, Julia had been dressing more stylishly, more like the old Julia. But a fundamental difference remained. This Julia had a daughter. His daughter. Motherhood had softened her sharp edges.
She waved, her eyes widening. “Everything okay? Have you looked at the tapes yet?”
He snapped his mouth shut. He’d been gawking. “I just switched them. Haven’t had a chance to view them yet.”
Not that the cameras had been any use. After they installed them, the direct attacks on Julia’s home had stopped. No more flowers. No more break-ins. No more dead animals.
Just dead people.
She skipped up the steps, swinging a tote bag from her hand. She held it up. “For Shelby’s toys.”
He followed her into the house on a cloud of her floral perfume or maybe it wasn’t perfume at all. She always smelled like fresh flowers.
As she disappeared into Shelby’s room, he swept the disc reader from the top of the TV. “Mind if I watch in here? I’d rather do it here than at the ranch.”
She poked her head around the corner, quirking her eyebrows. “Me, too.”
He laughed. “Don’t give me any ideas, woman.”
Her muffled response came from the bedroom as he crouched to slip the disc reader into the DVD player. Perching on the edge of her coffee table, Ryder hunched forward and watched Julia’s front porch…which was as exciting as watching a rock erode.
She strolled to his side, clutching two transformer-type figures in her hands. He jerked his thumb at the toys. “Doesn’t our daughter play with dolls?”
“Not often. Her new must-haves are horses, thank you very much.”
“She’s doing great with her riding lessons. She has so much confidence.”
“Not too much, I hope. I don’t want her taking any foolish chances.”
“Not with me watching her.” He pointed to the TV screen showing a woman on the porch crouched at the front window. “Who’s that?”
They both leaned in closer and Julia snorted. “That’s Gracie Malone peering through my window. What did she hope to see since I’ve been at your parents’ ranch?”
He pushed a button on the remote control to freeze the frame and check the time stamp. Yesterday at fiv
e o’clock. Had Charlie gone missing already? He pointed to the window that attracted Gracie. “You need to replace that hardware.”
Julia walked to the front window where she had laid her curtain rod across a loose bracket. She reached up, trying to wedge the curtain rod tighter against the broken bracket and jumped back as the entire bracket fell out of the wall and the rod almost hit her on the head.
“Not much for home repairs, are you? You just made it worse. Now the whole window on the right is uncovered.”
“It’s not like I’ve been around to get anything fixed.” She rested the curtain rod on the floor. “I’ll tack a sheet up before I leave.”
She dropped onto the couch to his left and propped her feet up on the coffee table, tapping his hip with her toe. “What’s she doing now?”
“Nothing. She peeked in the window and then turned around and left.” He fast-forwarded through the frames of empty activity. “Maybe she was looking for Charlie.”
“The buzz has hit the town. The news of Rosie’s death and Charlie’s disappearance spread faster than an avalanche. Some of the tourists are convinced there’s a crazed killer on the loose.”
“There is, but…” Ryder stopped and clenched his jaw.
Julia’s foot froze and her brown eyes grew big and glassy. She knotted her hands in front of her and seemed to shrink two sizes. She finished his sentence. “But the crazed killer isn’t after tourists. He’s after me and those who dare to get in the way of his objective.”
“I’m sorry.” Ryder launched off the coffee table and landed next to her on the couch. He grabbed her hands and tried to knead out the cold. “That was a dumb thing to say.”
“Insensitive maybe, but not dumb. Unfortunately, it’s the truth.”
He ran his hands up her arms and squeezed her shoulders. “Maybe you should just get away from here for a while. You don’t have any classes until September, and Millie can get someone to fill in for you at the shop.”
“I am getting away.”
Even though he’d just suggested it himself, Julia’s words hit him like a cold splash of water. “You’re leaving Silverhill?”
“My mother called me this afternoon after I saw you. You know how emotional she is, but this time guilt and sadness fueled her emotions, not anger. She felt horrible that I was here in Colorado with no memory for four years with her granddaughter and she did nothing to find me or try to reach me.” Julia pleated the hem of her skirt with trembling fingers. “I think she was sincere.”
“So you’re going to Paris?” The steadiness of his voice amazed him because shards of emotions ripped through his body.
She nodded, her gaze pinned to her busy fingers.
“When?”
“Next week.”
“You’re leaving for Paris in a week and taking Shelby with you?” Because he was still clenching his teeth, the words came out angrier than he intended.
Julia jerked up her head, her fierce stare singeing his skin. “And is that before or after you’re leaving, Ryder? Don’t think for a minute I’ve missed those furtive phone calls you’ve been having. It was the same in Paris, but I didn’t see the signs then. I didn’t want to see them. It’s very clear now.”
Clear? How could it be clear to her when he couldn’t even sift through the muck in his brain? He didn’t want her to leave him. “How can you go to Paris? You need passports.”
His words rang with petty satisfaction. He couldn’t help it. He had to grasp at any detail to keep her here.
Her brows snapped together, her hands fisting in the folds of her skirt. “Who are you, my travel agent? We have everything we need to leave the country.”
“I don’t want you to leave.” He gripped her shoulders, his fingers pinching into her skin through the soft material of her sweater.
Julia twisted out of his grasp, her chin tilting in a challenge. “You just told me to get out of Silverhill.”
“Not to go to Paris…alone.” He raked his fingers through his tangled hair. “I bought a little place in South Carolina, on the coast. I planned to settle you and Shelby there until this all blows over, until…”
“Until what? Until you come back from Zimbabwe or Venezuela or Timbuktu? Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll lose my memory again. That’ll give you more time to figure out if you want to make a commitment to a family or not.” Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes bright with anger a moment ago, now glistened with tears.
Damn, he’d made a mess of things. When he discovered Julia living here, he’d set out to make her love him again, selfishly. He never considered the fallout when it was time to take up his next assignment.
Wrapping his arms around her, Ryder drew her into a tight embrace. She bucked and arched like an unbroken filly until he took possession of her lips, salty from the tears rolling down her face.
As he deepened his kiss, her fingers clawed at his hair, digging into his scalp. She drew his bottom lip between her teeth and nipped at it. He welcomed the pain, welcomed her punishment as she pummeled him with her ferocious love.
Julia straddled Ryder and pushed him against the cushions of the couch, hating him, hating herself for wanting him with a potent need that overruled every ounce of common sense she possessed.
He responded like she knew he would. His hands curled around her hips, and he ground her against the erection that strained against his tight jeans.
She yanked up his T-shirt and pulled it over his head as he raised his arms. Her fingernails skimmed across his smooth, bare chest, trailing over the hard ridge of muscle that tensed beneath her touch.
His hands scrambled beneath her skirt and grabbed her panties. With one strong tug, he ripped them from her body. Gasping, she fell against his chest and burrowed into his shoulder, her lips pressed against the pulse that thrummed in his throat. She inhaled the scent of maleness that rose from his body in heady waves, fueling her passion.
His fingers circled her swollen flesh once before sliding into her wet core. A flash of heat claimed her body at the strong desire she felt for him even as she fought with him. But the shame lasted for only seconds as she cupped her hand around the bulge in his jeans.
Leaning back, she tore at the buttons of his fly. She shifted to the side as he lifted his hips and peeled off his jeans where they bunched around his muscular thighs. He hadn’t even bothered with underwear. His hard desire, smooth and pulsing, sprang forward in full readiness.
They couldn’t wait to undress. They couldn’t wait for words. If Ryder had to leave her, then damn it, she’d give him a final taste of what he’d be missing while he gnawed on boiled goat.
Shoving her ripped panties to the side, she lowered herself on him, but he couldn’t wait. He thrust up, spearing her, filling her up with his primal need to completely possess her. They rode each other, their bodies at the point of their ultimate connection, slick with sweat.
He ran the pad of his thumb across her thick, honeyed flesh as he continued to pound into her. Her sweet climax claimed her, gripping her in its talons of pleasure over and over. As she cried out her final release, Ryder roared, arching his back, filling her womb with his seed.
She rested her head against his thundering heart as her hot, ragged breath moistened his skin. Sighing, she opened her eyes, her unfocused gaze settling on the window with the curtains askew. She screamed and rolled off Ryder’s body, yanking her skirt down.
Charlie Malone’s face, pale and wide-eyed, had floated at the window for just a second.
Chapter Fourteen
Ryder, reclining against the couch half-naked, jerked forward, his knees bumping the coffee table. “What’s wrong?”
Julia covered her mouth with one hand to stifle a second scream and pointed a shaking finger toward the window. “Charlie.”
Grabbing his jeans, Ryder scrambled from the couch, almost toppling over as his pants wrapped around his legs. He swore and Julia let loose with a high-pitched, hysterical giggle. He scowled at her and yanked up his pants.
“Charlie was at the window?”
“Yeah, I saw his face a-after, when w-we…”
“I get it.” He charged toward the front door, buttoning his fly and Julia hung on to his arm.
“Where are you going?”
His brows shot up. “I’m going after Charlie.”
“Don’t go.” She squeezed his bicep, digging her nails into him with panic, not passion, this time. “Don’t leave me, Ryder.”
Sparks flared in his blue eyes. He crushed her against his bare chest, still damp with the sweat from their shared lovemaking. He murmured into her tangled hair, “I’ll never leave you again.
“But I need to go after Charlie.” Peeling her hands from his body, Ryder kissed the top of her head. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it until I return, and call 911.”
As soon as Ryder barreled through the front gate, Julia slammed the door shut and locked it. She grabbed her phone and called 911, telling them the man the Sheriff’s Department sought for questioning in Rosie Fletcher’s death just peered into her window.
She leaned against the window where Charlie’s face had appeared, rubbing her arms as she stared into the purple dusk that crawled over the mountains. Fear nibbled at her insides as she imagined all sorts of horrible endings to this drama. What if Charlie had a gun or a knife? Ryder had sailed out of here without a weapon. Hell, he hardly had any clothes on.
Headlights swept the street as a car rolled to a stop in front of her house. Her stomach clenched and she leaned her forehead against the smooth glass of the window to peer at the car.
She let out a long, ragged breath. The San Juan County Sheriff’s Department. Duke Lambert swung through the gate and ambled up the walkway, his sunglasses shoved to the top of his head.
Julia’s mouth went dry. Why was Duke wearing sunglasses at sunset? She shook her head as Duke’s knock resounded through the house. You’re being paranoid.
She unlocked the door, edging around Duke’s bulky frame to look for Ryder. Still not back.
“Hey, Julia. So you saw Charlie Malone at your window?”
Circumstantial Memories Page 16
