by B. J Daniels
It wasn’t until the next morning, after a fitful night with bad dreams and little sleep, that Nick remembered the call he’d gotten while staking out the bar.
He checked the message. It was from the crime lab.
He returned the call to Maximilian Roswell’s cell.
“I just got your message,” Nick said, apologizing for calling on a Sunday.
“Thought you’d want to know that we narrowed down the chemical compound found in the poison that killed Geraldine Shaw,” Maximilian said. “The compound has been off the market for quite a while now, but I can tell you what it was used for anyway. Artificial-nail remover.”
Nick blinked. “What?”
“You heard me right. This particular brand had enough cyanide in it to kill.”
Nick rubbed his forehead with his fingers. Arlene Evans had artificial nails. So did Charlotte, her daughter. And so did Sarah Cavanaugh, he recalled with a start. And Sarah Cavanaugh had a motive for killing Geraldine.
The dispatcher appeared in his door, motioning that he had an urgent call.
“I’m going to have to get back to you on this,” Nick said and got off the line.
“It’s the hospital. Someone just tried to smother Arlene Evans with a pillow. The person got away. The deputy on call is searching the area but so far nothing.”
As Nick left his office, he heard the cell phone in his bottom drawer ring, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t want to know that the trial had been postponed. Laney was leaving Monday. Nick just wanted it over.
Nick didn’t answer the phone. It quit ringing as he drove away. He didn’t hear the man on the other end of the line leave a short, succinct message: “Your cover is blown. Get out now.”
Chapter Twelve
Laney called her sister Sunday morning to ask Laci what she should make for dinner.
“Something exotic. Something he’s never had before.” Laci started rattling off dishes Laney had never even heard of and she realized it had been a mistake asking her sister what to cook.
“I think I should keep it simple. Make something homey like meat loaf and mashed potatoes and fresh peas from the garden. Maybe a carrot-and-raisin salad.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Laci cried. “You need to wow him with your culinary capacities.”
Laney would rather wow him with her intelligence, her sense of humor, her native charm. On second thought, maybe she should cook something exotic.
“How’s Maddie?” she asked.
“Doing a lot better. The therapist let her call Bo. He broke off the engagement. He said she was nothing but trouble and blamed her for everything. The therapist listened in on the call. After Maddie hung up, she was upset and hurt, but seemed to finally see Bo Evans for the kind of man he is.”
“That’s good. I hope Maddie means it.”
“Enjoy your dinner with Nick. I can’t believe how well you two fit together,” Laci gushed.
Laney laughed. “It’s just a summer fling. I’m leaving Monday to go home.” She hoped neither of those statements proved true. “Have you changed your mind about staying in Montana and starting your catering business here?”
“No. But I hate the thought that I won’t see you until Thanksgiving.”
“Who said I was coming back to Whitehorse for Thanksgiving?” Laney asked smiling, knowing her sister only too well.
“Of course you’ll be back. You’ll want to see Nick.”
That much was true. She would want to see Nick, she thought as she hung up. For the first summer in all the years she’d been coming here, Laney didn’t want to leave. She’d extended her time here as long as she could unless she was her own boss.
She concentrated on what to cook. She wanted dinner to be comfortable. Maybe she’d regret it, but she was going with meat loaf. That decided, she set about getting things ready.
What to wear was much harder. Neither with her clothing nor her cooking did she want to appear too anxious, let alone desperate. Once the meat loaf was in the oven, the potatoes boiling on the stove, the peas picked and shelled and ready to be cooked, she would get dressed. She didn’t want to be rushing around when he arrived.
When the time came, she decided on her favorite sundress, pulled her hair up into a ponytail and dabbed on just a touch of lip gloss. Understated.
That was her.
She had the table set on the porch, one lantern candle at the center. She hadn’t even used the good china, although she was debating going back in for it when she heard the sound of a car coming up the road.
Her heart began to pound, her palms sweat, her mouth going dry at the sight of Nick Rogers as he got out of the patrol car. He wore jeans, a button-down long-sleeved shirt and boots. He looked shy and scared and happy to see her.
She smiled down at him from the porch. “Tell me you like meat loaf.”
He grinned. “I love meat loaf.”
Laney laughed. “How about a beer before dinner?”
“You really are a woman after my own heart,” he said as he bounded up the steps to join her on the porch. He was so close she could smell the clean masculine scent of him. She breathed him in as if taking her last breath.
He stood so closely, his look so intimate, she felt a bolt of desire shoot through her. “I can get the beer,” he said softly.
She could only nod, watching him go through the door into the house before she grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. Her nipples were as hard as pebbles and pressed tight against her silk bra—and the thin material of the dress. She felt flushed. She wanted to skip dinner altogether. She wanted him to take her here on the porch in front of everyone who happened by.
She jumped at his touch.
“You look hot,” he said next to her ear.
And the next thing she knew, he was pressing the icy sweating bottle of beer to her temple.
“How’s that?” he asked softly.
She didn’t dare look at him for fear he would see her answer, know her heart, cause the Old Town Whitehorse gossip hotline to burn for weeks with talk of her and Nick Rogers and what happened on her front porch—and on a Sunday.
“Laney.” He pressed one of the beers into her hand and met her gaze. “Laney,” he said again.
Her gaze locked with his.
If he didn’t kiss her, she knew she would scream. She ached for his touch, her breasts heavy, her nipples as hard as she was soft inside.
Without breaking contact with her gaze, he took her beer from her and touched the cold, wet bottle to her hard nipple through the cloth. She closed her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Putting both bottles on the table, he circled her waist with one arm and dragged her to him. She felt the heat of his mouth, of his body, the cold wet of his hand on her breast, then snaking up her thighs, under her panties to her center.
She let out a moan of pleasure, throwing her head back, as he dropped his mouth to her breast. She’d never wanted a man the way she wanted him. Never dreamed she could feel such intensity, such desire. She’d always been careful with her heart.
But as Nick swept her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with a need that felt fatal if not fulfilled. The ache inside her was heart deep.
He kicked open the screen door and took her inside where it was cool and dim and the neighbors wouldn’t see her surrender to him.
In a fever, she pulled him to her, her mouth hot on his, her hands working at the buttons on his shirt, then the buttons on his jeans as he slipped the dress ove
r her head.
She heard his intake of breath as his gaze moved like warm honey over her body, then his fingertips followed that same path. He shoved aside one bra strap, then the other. His mouth trailed from her lips down her throat to the crest of her breasts. She leaned back, her palms against the bare warm skin of his chest.
He took one nipple in his mouth, lathed it with his tongue, then the other. She groaned and pulled him closer; her hands dropped to his hips. She could feel his need, hard against her.
“Laney,” he whispered as she drew him to the floor. “Laney.”
The first time was fast and furious. She cried out, shuddering against him, their bodies damp and hot, their breathing coming hard and fast.
Later, lying in his arms, she barely heard the timer go off on the meat loaf. His stomach growled next to her and she laughed as she rolled over to prop herself up on one elbow and look down at him. She thought her heart would break at the tenderness in his gaze.
After the meat loaf, mashed potatoes and peas on the porch, when the sun had dissolved into the horizon and the air cooled, he turned out the light and made love to her on the porch.
She couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but she could feel him. He made love to her as if memorizing every inch of her. As if this night would be his last.
* * *
“OH, MY GOD!” GLASS SHATTERED with a loud crash.
Nick bolted upright in bed at Laney’s cry and the sound of breaking glass. He grabbed his gun from his holster on the floor by the bed and raced into the kitchen to find her standing in front of the television, what was left of a pitcher in pieces at her feet and orange juice swimming on the tile.
Wordlessly she pointed at the television.
He turned in time to see the face on the screen. A candid shot of him. It was there only a heart-seizing instant before it was replaced with a shot of Arlene Evans sitting up in her hospital bed smiling into the camera.
“Well,” Arlene was saying. “I came up with the idea to help young rural people. When you live in the part of Montana that we do, houses are miles apart. Towns are even farther apart. Not only do our young people have a lot of chores on the farms and ranches and not much time to date, they often don’t get the opportunity to meet people their own ages. That’s how I came up with Rural Montana Meet-a-Mate Internet dating service.”
“No,” Nick said as he laid his weapon on the kitchen counter. He couldn’t believe this.
“She took photos of everyone at Maddie’s and Bo’s party and put them up on her site,” Laney said. “But now we’re all on national television.”
National television. He was just as good as dead.
“I meant to tell you about this last night....” Laney let her words die off.
“You knew?” he snapped.
She froze, her expression clearly surprised and hurt by his tone, then started to take a step back.
“Don’t move!” Her feet were bare and there were shards and orange juice everywhere. He grabbed the paper towels and bent down to pick up the broken pieces. “I’m sorry. It’s just that...” It was just that he was screwed.
“I’m sorry, but there’s glass all over,” he said, trying to calm down. Seeing himself on TV had sent him into a tailspin.
“I was going to tell you and then I forgot,” she said as he finished cleaning up the mess and tossed the paper towels and broken glass in the trash. “I went over to Arlene’s and got copies of the photographs she’d taken at the party. I was going to show them to you because I thought there might be some evidence...”
He looked at her. She was wearing a silk robe that hugged the body he now knew by heart. Just looking at her made him ache for her.
Last night after she’d fallen asleep, he’d stared at her for a long time, desperately wanting her. And not just for a night. He’d never felt this way about a woman. It scared the hell out of him. Not just because his life wasn’t his own right now. Not just because he could easily be dead tomorrow.
It scared him because he wanted Laney Cavanaugh tonight, tomorrow night and the next night for the rest of his life. He wanted to buy her a ring, ask her to marry him, stand at the altar and promise her his love forever.
He knew this was the real thing. He was in love with this woman. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight. He could feel her fear, her confusion. He cursed himself for letting this happen.
“I’m sorry. I have to go,” he said and stepped back to take his gun off the counter, then hesitated as he looked at her. He opened his mouth, desperately needing to tell her the truth about everything, and closed it. He had to get out of Dodge. Now. “I’ll call you later,” he said as he headed for the bedroom.
“I have the photographs if you want—”
“It’s too late for photographs,” he said as he dressed. He looked up to find her standing in the bedroom doorway.
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “If it’s about last night—”
“It’s not.” He stopped dressing. “Laney, last night was...unbelievable. I’ve never...” Words defied him. “But it shouldn’t have happened. I can’t get involved with anyone right now.”
Her expression turned from hurt to anger. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.” She walked over to the bed and dropped the photographs on the comforter, then she turned and left.
He had to bite his tongue not to call her back. Tell her, dammit. Just tell her the truth. He swore as he strapped on his weapon. His photo was on national television. It wouldn’t take Keller any time to find him. He had to get out of town. The best thing he could do for Laney was to distance himself from her and quickly.
He started to leave the photographs on the bed where she’d tossed them. But at the last minute, he scooped them up, planning to give them to one of the deputies in the department—once he’d destroyed all traces of ones with him in them. He didn’t want any trail that would lead Keller to Laney in case things went badly in California.
At the front door, he stopped to look back toward the kitchen. The very last thing he wanted was to walk out this door. To walk out on Laney. But his life wasn’t worth two cents right now. He had nothing to offer her. Absolutely nothing. Being around him would only put her in danger.
He opened the door and hurried across the porch, down the steps to his patrol car. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t.
* * *
LANEY WENT TO THE WINDOW to watch Nick go. To watch him run away. Last night had been just as he’d said—incredible. They’d been so close. Too close, she saw now. She knew he’d been afraid to let her into his life. She’d warned herself not to care too much.
Look at how he’d reacted to seeing his photograph on the Montana Meet-a-Mate site. Imagine how he would have reacted if he’d seen the two of them “matched-up” on the Web site. She could have killed Arlene for doing this. But she knew it wasn’t Arlene’s fault. Laney had known Nick wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone. Maybe especially her.
There’d been sparks that first time she’d laid eyes on him. She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen for him but she had. And now her heart was breaking.
She wanted to regret falling for Nick. To curse herself for last night. But she couldn’t. She would have felt much worse if she’d left town without making love with him. The memory would haunt her always, but at least she had that.
The phone rang. Laney couldn’t help the way her pulse surged as she reached
to pick it up. Let it be Nick. Please let it be Nick.
“So?” Laci said. “Is he still there?”
“No,” Laney said, trying to hide her disappointment on both counts. “He had to leave.”
“Last night? Or this morning?”
Laney couldn’t help smiling. “This morning.”
“So?”
“It was wonderful. I’ll never forget it. I was going to call you. I’ve decided to leave today rather than wait until tomorrow and drive to Billings to catch the plane.”
“Wait a minute,” Laci said. “You’re leaving? What about Nick? Oh no, you made meat loaf, didn’t you?”
“He loved the meat loaf. It was only a summer fling. Just like I told you.”
“Why don’t I believe that?” Laci asked.
“Because you are an incurable romantic. Listen, I have to get going. I’ll call you when I get to Mesa. Give my love to Maddie.”
“I’m sorry, Laney,” her sister said before she could get off the phone.
* * *
NICK PLANNED HIS GETAWAY on the way back to Whitehorse. He had to swing by his office and pick up the cell phone, then by his apartment to take what few belongings he had with him. He thought he was still safe enough to make both stops. His cover had been blown, but even if Keller had seen Arlene’s interview this morning on television and Nick’s photo, he wouldn’t be able to get here that fast.
Unless Keller had already gotten wind of where he was. That, Nick knew, had always been a possibility since Keller was out on bail with nothing to do but look for him.
His radio squawked.
“There’s been another attempt on Arlene Evans’s life,” the dispatcher told him.
Nick swore silently. He couldn’t deal with this now. He had to get out of town before it was too late. If it wasn’t already. He could only guess how long his photo had been up on the Internet. Keller would have put the word out. Everyone would be on the lookout for Nicolas Giovanni.
