Tonight’s tragedy had to be connected to the murder. But how? What was she missing?
~ * ~
Stupid woman. Didn’t she know he was in control? Not her.
After following her sister to find Lilah’s new location and keeping surveillance on the house for over two weeks, he’d finally found the opportunity to search the house for the missing files.
She’d come home too early. He’d seen the approaching headlights while ransacking the bedroom. The back studio door provided the perfect escape route, but he should have stayed. He should have confronted her, demanded she turn over the prize.
Jason stared at the mug of himself and wadded it into his fist.
Damn.
With the police looking for him, he’d have to be more careful, more devious. The boss would owe him dearly now. Thirty thousand wasn’t enough to leave the country and start fresh. No. If the boss wanted the job finished, he’d have to cough up more. A lot more.
He smiled. With Lilah’s busy schedule, finding a way to approach without setting off alarm bells had proved difficult, almost impossible, but her sister…
Ashley might be the key. More open to strangers and more adventurous in going out by herself late at night, she would make an easy target.
“Soon.” Soon he’d have what he needed to make the big boss pay. The promise of a small fortune put a gleam in his eye.
Eighteen
Reece approached Lilah’s place, whistling a lively tune. He’d made every effort to plan, to make this date a special night for the woman he thought of so highly. His topsiders ground to a halt the moment he spied the door and the splintered wood around the lock. He frowned and inspected the damage, thinking it hadn’t been here the first time he’d come calling.
Fresh scratch marks marred the wood trim, and the doorknob looked new. What had happened and why the hell hadn’t Lilah told him? Surely she trusted Reece enough now to confide a break-in.
His breathing slowed. Perhaps he was inviting trouble, and she’d locked herself out of the house. With that thought, he rapped his knuckles on the door, twisted the handle, and poked his head inside. “Lilah? It’s Reece. Hope I’m not too early.”
The door shut behind him with a resounding click. The interior used to be much darker with cherry paneling and heavy leather furniture. He smiled, thinking of the times he’d enjoyed her mother’s famous homemade peach pie and a glass of cold milk to escape the heat during the summer months.
She’s changed a lot of the décor.
The contrast between the thirty-year-old quaint cabin he remembered from visits with Mrs. Johnson, and the brighter, more colorful interior of her daughter was striking. Some of the rustic decorations carried over from Lilah’s father before the divorce; photos of successful gobbler hunts, pictures of crappie held proudly across the entry to the dock. But the other remnants of male dominance, mounted deer heads, fish trophies, were gone. In their place, an assortment of aesthetically pleasing and visually stimulating artwork blared their presence.
Inlays of copper wire molded into the silhouette of a doe feeding her fawn held a central position on the far wall. The original portraits from the lake by an artist named Carmen were scattered everywhere. And of course, at the center of all her work; the image of himself tacking along the creek outside their window overwhelmed all other paintings.
“Reece?” Her sweet voice caught his attention, and he whirled to greet her.
A low whistle escaped, one he couldn’t have stopped if he’d wanted. “Wow. You look great as always.” The black sundress and matching black sandals were simple but elegant and set off her creamy complexion.
“I thought you’d be here at five. You’re early.”
He shrugged. “Sorry. Just anxious for your company.”
She gave a slight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The haunted look reminded him of the damaged door jam. “I saw the scratches and splinters around your lock. Mind telling me what happened.”
“I’d rather not.”
His eyes narrowed. “But you will anyway.”
Sudden anger swept across her features. “You’re my date, not my husband or my father.”
The comment sent warning bells throughout his body. The woman was hiding something. He’d never liked unsolved mysteries. The moment a puzzle presented itself, he was the first to start ferreting answers. The stern approach hadn’t worked so he gentled his tone and took a different tack.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to come off so strong, problem is, Lilah; I like you. No, my feelings run deeper than that, but I promise not to scare you off with the intensity of my regard.”
“Reece, please…”
“No, let me finish. I can’t stop thinking of the fun we enjoyed at the festival, and I’m hoping you feel the same.”
She sank into one of the armchairs and studied the worn carpet. “I do. It’s just…”
He knelt at her knees and lifted her chin. “What is it? What has you so upset?”
“It’s my sister, Ashley. She went on a date with this guy named Scott and hasn’t returned. That was this morning. I know I shouldn’t be worried. It hasn’t been that long yet, but …”
“Has she done this sort of thing before?”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s probably nothing to worry about.”
“I’d think the same except for the break in.”
Damn. He’d been right to assume the worst. “When?”
“The night I had dinner at your place.”
“What? And you didn’t think to call me?” His hand squeezed her knee harder than he intended, the fury flowing through his veins unchecked.
She placed her hand on his. “I know. I should have, and I thought about it, but you and I – we’re not yet an “us,” and I didn’t want to burden you with my worries.”
Her words gave him hope that she’d given as much thought to a future together as he had. This sexy lady had gotten under his skin and into his head so quickly, his heart reeled.
“Well, hear this loud and clear. I want to be burdened from now on, okay?”
She smiled. “Okay.”
“So tell me about the break-in.”
“Not much to tell. I came home and the place had been ransacked. The police dusted for prints and took photos. I’ve searched but I haven’t found anything missing, so no telling what they took or why they targeted my place.”
“You’re pretty brave to stay here after all of that.”
“Not brave, just stubborn. This is my home but it’s unnerving. I feel violated.” She chewed a loose cuticle. “And now with Ashley missing…”
He patted her knee and stood. “I can call my friend who’s a sheriff if you’d like.”
“They won’t do anything ‘til it’s been a good twenty-four hours. It’s been less than two.” She wrung her hands as if she wanted to say more.
“Honey, she’s on a date. Maybe they were enjoying each other so much…”
“But she won’t answer her phone.” Her voice rose in agitation. “She’s never without her phone.”
“The battery probably died. Seriously, if she’s done this sort of thing before where she’s gone without calling, then I wouldn’t worry.”
“Yes, you’re right. She’s done this type of thing several times in the past, but not under these circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
She parted her lips as if to share then pulled back. “We’re in a new area with different surroundings. It’s hard to believe she’d be so callous to run off and leave me dealing with…this new environment.”
“I see.” But he really didn’t. She was withholding something. “Can I offer my take?”
“Please do.”
“Much of my life has been spent fretting things I cannot see or affect. Until you know something specific, expect the best.”
Her tone elevated. “But how can I do that? She’s my sister, my best friend.”
“First, look at
the facts. That date, did she talk about going in a boat or swimming?”
“No.”
“Where did she say they were going?”
“Simmons Park here on the lake.”
“The area over there is well hiked and constantly full of visitors. It’d be different if they went to one of the larger parks farther away from the lake, but here, we’d already have heard if something bad happened.”
She seemed to mull over his advice. “You’re right. I’m assuming the worst when I should be looking forward to our outing.”
“Good. Then let’s see about putting a smile on that pretty face. Your ship waits.”
“Let me grab the small cooler I packed and my swim bag. Oh and I can’t forget my camera bag.”
“Can I help?”
“Sure. The cooler’s in the kitchen on the counter. I’ll get my other things and meet you out front. And Reece?”
“Hmm.”
“I almost forgot. I have something for you.” She tugged on his hand and led him to her studio. They stopped beside one of her larger paintings, one that seemed to stand out from the rest in a way that caught his breath. “This one is yours.”
“I don’t know what to say.” No one had ever given him such a personal gift, one that had come from the heart.
“I intended to bring it with me when I came to your house, but I forgot.” She glanced his way, her expression hopeful. “Do you like it?”
“No.” He hugged her close. “I love it. Thank you.”
“Come on. You get the cooler and I’ll get my things. You can take possession of the painting later when you have your car.” She dashed off before he could express his gratitude for the gift.
Lilah’s true feelings, her longing for the man carried in her mind’s eye and portrayed on the canvas with such precision were no longer in doubt.
She is the one.
They carted her few items to the Jenny May, and he stepped into the boat so she could pass over her stuff. “Now you.” He held out his hand to help her inside.
She stepped into the boat and promptly lost her footing. Her right sandal slipped against the wet fiberglass, and she plopped non-too-gently onto the seat. “Oh my. That was rather clumsy.”
“It’s your shoes. Remind me to take you shopping for some topsiders. Razor cuts in the sole give a better grip on the fiberglass surface.”
“Oh.”
He smiled. “Hey. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had my share of mishaps while sailing, too. All part of the adventure.”
The line came loose from the mooring with a tug on his end. After shoving against the rough hewn surface of the weathered planks, the boat drifted from the dock. Luckily, he’d parked in such a way that the bow was pointed toward the center of the lake. “Take the tiller and point into the wind for me. Just head her toward that distant ramp. Should be fine.”
“Shouldn’t you motor out a bit first?”
His brows arched. “And lose the opportunity to impress you with my sailing skills?”
“Oh, so that’s what you’re about. Is it only sailing skills you hope to impress me with this fine evening?”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, if you only knew. Now take the tiller before I have to eat my words, and we drift back to shore.”
She took the stick as if experienced at the task. With her aid, Reece put up the main. “Okay, can you fall off some?”
She turned slightly toward starboard at a perfect angle while he set the main. The large canvas flapped briefly before catching the wind and snapping into place. He stole a glance her way. “You’ve done this before.”
“It’s been years but yes, my father used to take me sailing before he divorced my mom.”
While she maintained control of the steering, he cranked the wench and unfurled the jib. Once hoisted, he tweaked the settings and settled into place beside his date. “Ready for me to take over?”
“Sure.” She relinquished the tiller and closed her eyes. “I love the feel of the wind against my skin. I forgot just how lovely sailing is.”
“It’s an addiction for me.” The antique Blackwatch responded like a champ.
“I know.”
Lilah released the black striped pouf encasing her hair into a bun and the breeze, combined with the speed of the Jenny May, reformed her silky brown strands into the free spirit that had been locked inside for too long.
God she’s stunning, I just can’t get enough.
Hold on,” Reece warned his passenger. “We need to tack. Just be careful of the boom as it swings to the other side.” Lilah instinctively switched to the other side once the sail shifted position. He smiled, loving the way she understood the basics of sailing. She portrayed a sailor’s instinct. Her face, the seductive shape of her body; everything contoured to the natural forces of unfettered wind as it caressed the undulating surface of the lake. Lilah pressed against the invisible fingers of mild currents that encouraged the craft along its journey. She arched her back, her legs and conveyed acceptance of Mother Nature’s order in every crevice of her form.
What an angel. She’s so genuine in her movements.
“Mind if I take control for a while. It’s been forever since I sailed, and I want to see if I still remember all my father taught me.” She slipped off her sandals and pushed them out of the way.
“Give me your left hand.” He placed her hand around the control arm of the rudder and all five fingers cupped the shaft like a lover’s spear. “She’s all yours.”
Lilah faced him for a moment, and the shift in angle caused two golden brown strands to caress her lips. “There’s no one on the lake but us.”
“I love sailing during the week for that very reason, but the weekend is a whole different matter. That’s when all the fishermen and the big powerboats come out.” He settled into the bend of the formed seat and admired his guest. That she shared his love of sailing and an appreciation for the wind sweetened the idea that this woman was the one.
An ember danced in her left eye, like a flame bathing the surface of a green crystalline sphere. The micro glitter grew to a blaze, as if she were conjugating a riddle or about to play a joke on someone. “I have a confession.”
Here it comes.
“I’m listening.”
“This distant obsession thing was all a ruse.”
“What?”
Lilah’s countenance reflected a stern edge. “It wasn’t you I was admiring from afar; it was the boat.”
She could only hold the firm expression a few seconds before, “I had you going, didn’t I?”
He snickered. “Yes, you did.” They both exchanged a reassuring laugh.
Should I tell her I know?
He never liked secrets with the women he’d had in his life, but to confess knowledge of the darkness that haunted her past could derail all the progress they’d made. How would she react, the fact he’d held back. No, better to let her reveal the source of the shadows still blanketing her spirit, at the moment she choice as right for the two of them.
“I’m glad you’re having such a good time, Lilah. Your smile is so beautiful.”
“So am I.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “Reece, to move forward in a relationship, there must be honesty, no secrets between…us. Do you agree?”
He returned a single resounding word. “Absolutely.”
“Then will you join me in a little game.”
If that’s what it takes, Sweetheart.
“Sure. What are the rules?”
“I get to ask you any question and you must answer it factually.”
“All right, but once I show you mine, you have to show me yours, so to speak; fair?”
She hesitated. “Okay, but I go first.”
“Shoot.”
“Each of us is the sum of all the events and wounds we’ve accumulated over our lifetime, right?”
“Of course.”
“When I’ve asked about your family you’ve been evasive. It leads me to believe something bad
happened, perhaps…abuse. I need to know the truth, not to judge but to help.”
Crap. I thought she’d ask about past lovers again.
He inhaled a barrel of fresh air. “No, I wasn’t sexually abused, if that’s what ya mean. My dad was dictatorial in his authority, especially when it came to me. I spent more time in the tool shed hiding from his strap or at some friend’s house until their stupid parents would call him. My mother and brother would just stand by and watch, never say a word, but not me. Wrong is wrong, plain and simple. I remember time and again, my back and ass blistered by his punishment, and I still refused to cry or give up.”
He issued a cynical chuckle. “I was such a fool. My old man would scream, ‘learned your lesson yet’ and I’d yell back, ‘never!” Reece paused until the rush of blood into his face had diminished. “It caused such anger toward my entire family. I’m not even sure anymore if they stood by because of fear, or cause they liked seeing him draw blood, but back then, I swore they were smiling each time I looked up at the house and saw them peering through the window, watching.”
Reece waited for the throbbing in his neck to subside before continuing. “You’d think when I became a young adult it wouldn’t matter anymore, but injustice bores into your brain and never let’s go. At seventeen, I ran away, hitchhiked to a nearby town, and lied about my age so I could work.”
A carousel of images clicked by; cold evenings beneath discarded newspaper, the occasional rat for companionship, the periodic vile smelling wino searching for a cubbyhole of his own to hide from the frigid rain. “At night I’d squirrel up in an abandon store, until I got enough money for an apartment, and I’ve never returned home since. I know it sounds horrible, but they don’t exist to me anymore, my family. Nearly twenty-five years and I’ve never gone home. Like my Jenny May, I’m unencumbered anymore by the chains they tried to shackle around my throat. I’ve been on my own since the beginning, and still am, until I can find the right one to join me.”
Distant Obsession Page 11
