Through the windshield, Danny scanned the quiet street. Solid homes, mature trees, and well-tended yards should give him a case of the warm and fuzzies. But the bright sun shining down on Huntsville couldn’t chase away the bad vibes buzzing through the fresh air. “I can’t figure out how Nathan could possibly have pulled it off, but I do. Don’t forget he’s had four months to get his act together. Something bad is going to happen here.”
And there it was. Danny had said it. He hadn’t experienced this sense of impending doom since he’d left Iraq, where people were trying to blow him up every minute of every fucking day.
“How are you?” Conor asked the hard question. “Maybe you need to come home for some more therapy.”
Danny thought about it. “It’s not post-traumatic stress. This is different. The best way I can explain it is that my PTSD is like a nightmare, and I’m wide awake. There’s danger here. How are things there? How’s Jaynie?”
“She’s holding up.” The heavy breath on the other end of the line signaled he’d hit the mark. Conor was giving in. Jayne did a damned good job of putting on a happy face, but behind the mask, fear lurked. The three Sullivan brothers had a pact to take care of their sister. “What do you want me to do?”
“Can you go to Bangor and see what’s what?” Danny started the engine. “I’m still nosing around here.” He told Conor about the disappearance of the fisherman and his son.
“So, you burned down Reed’s house, and a couple of people vanished?”
“Yeah. That sums it up.”
“I can clear my schedule tomorrow and head to Maine the day after. Does that work for you?”
“Thanks, Conor.”
“Be careful, Danny. It would kill Jaynie to lose you.” Conor tossed Danny’s strategy back at him.
“Is Reed there?”
“Yeah. Let me get him.”
Danny apologized for setting Reed’s house on fire, but his almost-brother-in-law wasn’t angry, just worried. They sorted through a few insurance details, and Danny told Reed about his meeting with the detective. Reed wasn’t happy but thanked him for the information. He punched END.
Danny hadn’t exaggerated to his brother. He’d simply verbalized the persistent itch between his shoulder blades. There was no need to convince Reed that Jayne was still in danger. The former cop’s instincts were in line with Danny’s.
The state police detective could rationalize all he wanted, but Danny knew in his soul that the danger still centered in Huntsville. The quaint little town, with its postcard-perfect views, was the hub for something evil.
Mandy pushed the lawn mower. The smell of gasoline and fresh-cut grass filled the air around her. Happy to be outside for a change, she hummed the last song she’d heard while doing the lunch dishes.
Jed pulled into the parking area and got out of his truck. Honey jumped down from the passenger seat, raced to the house, and barked at the back door. Bill let her in and knelt to give her a hug. The dog’s tail wagged on overdrive. Mandy warmed as she watched the happy greeting. Jed stomped toward her, and her feel-good moment deflated. The huge scowl on his face didn’t hide the gauntness or dark circles. Did he sleep at night? He shouted something that Mandy couldn’t hear over the engine. She shook her head at him, hoping he’d go away. He didn’t.
With a heavy sigh, she shut off the mower. The rumbling cut off abruptly.
“I said,” Jed yelled, then lowered his voice, “why are you cutting the lawn?”
Mandy shot him an isn’t it obvious look. “Because it needs to be cut.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“Seriously?” Mandy crossed her arms. “This is hardly beyond my physical ability.”
“You have enough stuff to do.”
She couldn’t argue with that, but the inn’s lawn wasn’t that big. She and her mother had taken turns mowing it weekly for as long as Mandy could remember. Why was Jed suddenly stepping in? “Well, the grass was high after all the rain and that warm spell last week.”
“Here, I’ll take over.” Jed reached for the mower.
Like he wanted to take over everything. Mandy was tempted, but she knew Jed. If she let him do this, he’d be back tomorrow to do more work. Physically, he could barely keep up with his own place and care for his dogs. He couldn’t possibly maintain the inn as well. Mandy blocked him. “I’m halfway done. I’ll finish it up.”
“This isn’t the kind of work you should be doing,” he protested. “You aren’t cut out for manual labor.”
“Oh, really.” Mandy propped a hand on her hip. “And what should I be doing?”
Jed shifted his weight as if he knew he was about to say something wrong but just couldn’t stop himself. “You know. Woman-type work. Cooking and cleaning and stuff.”
“So, women are only good for housework?”
“Not all women. Your mom’s sturdy enough.” Jed’s gaze dropped to his work boots. “But you’re…”
Mandy tapped a boot toe on the grass. “I’m what?”
“Delicate.” Jed swallowed. “And you’re such a good cook. You belong in the kitchen.”
Mandy glanced down at her thin but muscled forearms and fingers. Running the inn was hard work, inside and out. She took a couple of calming breaths. “I know you don’t mean that exactly the way it came out.”
Jed’s eyebrows scrunched together. “But I do.”
“You want to go down to the gun range and see who belongs in the kitchen?”
He didn’t answer, but annoyance flashed across his face.
“And why don’t you ever volunteer to help with the cooking and cleaning?” she asked. Jed’s horrified look said it all. He was her best friend, but he was a Neanderthal when it came to gender roles. Mandy glanced at her watch. It was nearly time to put out the afternoon refreshments. “Thanks for the offer, Jed, but I can finish the lawn. It feels good to be outside.”
“Dammit, Mandy. You’re only saying that because you think I’m weak.”
“I didn’t mean that.” She didn’t, though the reference to her superior shooting skills had been an unnecessary poke to Jed’s sensitive male pride. His injury had upset his expectations in life. He might never be able to return to his career as a hunting guide.
“You didn’t have to.” His head swiveled as Danny’s car parked next to his truck. Jed gave Mandy a hard look. His gray eyes bored into hers. Something dark lurked behind his gaze. Jed was usually serious and quiet. When they were alone, he could also be fun in his own gruff way. He was never hostile toward her. Could her mother be right? Was Jed jealous of Danny? Had she been wrong all these years? She searched her memory. They’d known each other since first grade. Mandy’s father had left. Jed’s mother ran out on his dad soon after. Mutual sadness and loneliness created a strong bond between them as children, but Mandy couldn’t remember treating Jed like anything but her best friend. No other relationship had ever occurred to her. “Fine. Mow your own damned lawn. I’m going home.”
He stopped at the house and called for his dog. The lab followed him to the truck but kept glancing back toward the house.
With a quizzical glance at Jed’s retreating back, Danny crossed the grass. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes.” Mandy pulled off her gloves. The lawn would have to wait until later. “I was just about to put out lemonade and cookies.”
Danny followed her to the back porch. She left her grass-stained work boots by the door and slipped into her sneakers before going inside. At the sink, she scrubbed her hands and forearms, then donned an apron. She retrieved the pitcher of homemade lemonade from the fridge and set it on the counter next to the platter of cookies she’d prepared earlier. Danny leaned on the wall, and she tried to ignore how comfortable he looked in her kitchen.
Right on time, her brother burst into the kitchen. Bill liked to get his cookies before the guests appeared. “Are they ready?” He spotted Danny and slid to a stop.
“They are,” she answered.
&n
bsp; Bill gave Danny a worried look and inched backward toward the door. Mandy poured them both glasses of lemonade. She smiled at her brother. “Want a cookie?”
Her brother’s gaze shifted from Mandy to Danny. Watching Bill struggle, Mandy’s heart ached.
“Oh, Bill. I almost forgot. I have a present for you.” Danny shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “If you don’t like presents, then don’t worry about it.”
Curiosity kept Bill rooted in place, his big body taut with indecision. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. It’s from Reed.” Danny set his glass down. “Let me run to my car and get it. Good thing I left it in the trunk. Don’t go anywhere, OK?”
Danny hurried out of the kitchen. Mandy put a few cookies on a plate and slid it in front of her brother, but Bill didn’t notice. He stared at the door. When Danny returned, he held a box in his hands, bright and shiny with bright-red wrapping paper. Curling silver ribbons cascaded over the sides.
Bill inched closer, eyes locked on the present. “It’s from Reed?”
“It is.” Danny set the box on the counter. “He’s going to marry my sister, so we’re almost related.”
“Reed sent me a present?” Bill’s eyes brightened with disbelief.
“Yes, he did.” Danny was biting back a grin.
Bill stared at the package. “Wonder what it is.”
Mandy’s heart pinged. Wood sculptor Reed Kimball used to live in Huntsville. Reed had been one of her brother’s only friends, a pseudo father figure, before Reed had fallen in love with Danny’s sister and moved to Philadelphia to live with her.
Danny nudged the gift toward Bill, who forgot his distrust of strangers and plucked it from Danny’s hand.
Danny grinned as Bill took his prize to the other side of the room. He bent over the package, ripped the wrapping paper off, and opened the box. Reverently, he lifted a wood carving of a Labrador retriever.
“It looks exactly like Jed’s dog, Honey. I always wanted a dog.” Cradling the small statue in both ham-sized hands, Bill looked up at Danny with the guileless eyes of a child. “Thanks for bringing me this.”
“You’re welcome.” Danny reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Do you want to call Reed and thank him?”
“I can call Reed?”
“Sure, why not?” Danny dialed and handed the phone to Bill.
“That was sweet of Reed.” Mandy wiped her moist eyes.
“Reed’s a good guy.” Danny leaned a shoulder on the wall. “If he had any idea how much Bill missed him, he would’ve called. Bill could’ve called him anytime.”
“Sometimes it’s best to let things go that aren’t going to come back. I’m going to put the snacks out in the dining room.” With a backward glance at her brother, who now seemed perfectly comfortable with Danny, Mandy retreated to her chore. She laid out the lemonade and cookies, then stocked the sideboard with ice, glasses, plates, and napkins. When she couldn’t find anything else to keep her away from the kitchen—and Danny—she went back in. The room was empty.
Movement drew her gaze to the window. In the backyard, Danny was starting up the mower. She went out onto the porch, determined to tell Danny his help with the grass wasn’t necessary. But it wasn’t Danny pushing the mower across the yard. Bill gave her an excited wave as he cut a fresh swath in the grass.
Mandy’s heart swelled at her brother’s simple joy. Who would have thought he would enjoy yard work? Her eyes flickered to Danny. Still watching Bill, Danny walked across the yard and joined her on the porch.
“Do you think it’s safe for him to do that?”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Danny said, “but it’s not that complicated. I gave him the safety spiel.”
Doubt and fear lingered in Mandy’s belly. “He could hurt himself.”
“He could. But he could also accomplish something and feel good about himself,” Danny pointed out. “Everyone needs to be useful, Mandy.”
Her brother turned the mower and started a new row. Jed was nice to Bill, but he never let him help with chores. Single-minded with work, Jed wanted to get things done. Letting Bill help often meant the work took twice as long.
“It’s going to take him a long time to finish,” she pointed out.
“That’s all right. I don’t have anything else to do.” Sadness darkened Danny’s eyes as he tracked Bill’s progress. “And I like the smell of cut grass.”
Mandy backed away and reached for the doorknob. “You’ll watch him until he’s finished?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
In the kitchen, Mandy leaned on the closed door. What was she going to do about Danny’s persistent presence?
Jed crossed the inn’s lawn, stifling the urge to run away from the sight of Mandy and Danny talking. His gaze strayed to the metallic purple muscle car. He hated to admit it, but the car was a damned nice ride.
Just as Danny Sullivan was a damned nice guy.
Jed opened the door to his truck. Honey jumped into the cab. She settled on the passenger seat with her head on her paws and heaved a depressed sigh. Even his favorite dog didn’t like him best. Honey’s bond with Bill grew stronger every day. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?
“I know you wanted to stay and hang out with Bill. I didn’t want to leave either, but we aren’t needed.” Or at least Jed wasn’t needed at the inn, not as long as Danny was there. He had no right to be jealous or angry. If it weren’t for Danny, Jed would be dead, and God only knew what would’ve happened to Mandy. Nathan would’ve gotten her for sure.
He settled behind the wheel and pressed a hand to the never-ending ache in his gut.
He was grateful. He was.
But why did the guy have to come back here? Watching Mandy get all flustered over some other guy was rubbing Jed’s ego raw.
After all these years she didn’t see him as a man. She thought of him as a brother. Jed’s feelings were anything but brotherly. What could he do to change the way she felt about him? She wouldn’t let him do much around the inn, except to help out with Bill now and then. But Christ, he could barely lift a ladder. Bringing Honey to visit Bill was about the most useful thing Jed had done for Mandy in ages.
Jed shifted into drive and pulled out onto the road. He cruised to Main Street and turned right, heading out of town. He drove back to his house in silence. Honey sat up and put her nose to the window as they neared his home on the outskirts of town. The truck bounced on the rutted drive and sharpened the pain in his belly. He parked and got out of the truck. From the kennels on one side of his compound, a chorus of barking greeted him. Each dog had an insulated doghouse and a run. His labs were tough hunting dogs, not pets. They lived outside in all but the worst weather. Except Honey. His hand rested on the golden head at his side. She’d always been meant for something more.
Exhaustion and pain clawed at his body, but the dogs came first. As much as he faked wellness in front of Mandy, Jed was not 100 percent. Shit, he wasn’t 60 percent of what he’d been, and the doctors hadn’t made any promises. Between the original wound and the sepsis that had invaded his body in the weeks after, Jed knew he’d cheated death. He’d all but high-fived the Grim Reaper. His heart had stopped twice. The doctors were surprised he was still alive. This could very well be Jed’s new permanent reality. Mandy blamed herself, but he didn’t. He’d do it all over again in a heartbeat to save her.
He’d do anything for Mandy.
In the shed behind the kennels, Jed lined up stainless steel bowls and filled them with kibble. He gave each dog a bowl of food and fresh water, then did a quick cleaning of the cages. Following him, Honey wagged and sniffed at each kennel door. Bear, the young chocolate lab in the first cage, was the next up-and-comer. Smart, willing, energy to spare. Jed had already received several very nice offers for the dog, but he had to have one dog in competition at all times. Plus, Bear was going to make a fine stud. This fall would be Bear’s year.
There’d b
e no more field trials for Honey.
Jed patted Bear on the head and secured the door. Too many kennels sat empty and dark. If he wasn’t going to breed Honey, he should invest in another bitch, but the future just didn’t feel bright enough to plan very far ahead.
Full dark had fallen on the clearing by the time he crossed to the house. A brown package sat on his porch. He carried it inside, pulled his folding knife from his pocket, and slit the tape securing the end. He sat down at his desk. Inside a nest of packing peanuts sat a black box with a large white button. Honey rested her head next to the box as if she knew it was for her.
He fed Honey in the kitchen before heading for the shower. He stepped under the spray and turned his back to the pulsing water. The long, ugly scar that wrapped around his midsection was too tender for direct contact. Jed put his head under the cascading water. How much of a chance did he have of convincing Mandy he was a man, not just a friend? His fingers strayed to the puckered skin on his abdomen. He didn’t feel like much of a man, not when picking up a ladder felt like he was trying to lift a Chevy.
He turned off the shower and toweled off. Wait. He froze. There was one thing he could do for Mandy. Something that might convince her that what he felt for her was beyond brotherly affection.
He could find Nathan. Ha! If only his ruined body would hold up to the task, Jed could put an end to this whole thing. But Nathan’s knife had rendered Jed useless, emasculated him as surely as if the cut had been eight inches lower.
The memory of lying cold on the pavement, blood flowing out of his body like a hung deer, wasn’t the only thing that haunted Jed. Right after he’d stabbed Jed, Nathan had declared Mandy as his own. The cops could claim he was long gone till they ran out of wind. But Jed knew the truth. He wrapped the towel around his waist and went into the adjoining bedroom.
Finding Nathan for her wasn’t possible. Not for Jed.
His eyes strayed to the window. Just beyond the outdoor lights, the trees surrounding his cabin formed a black, impenetrable wall. Nathan was out there. Somewhere. He wanted Mandy, and if anyone got in his way, Nathan wouldn’t hesitate. He’d shown his true nature. Under all his polish, Nathan was a killer.
Midnight Sacrifice Page 10
