Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  But as ludicrous as it had seemed yesterday, the store had experienced its most successful day money-wise since opening four years earlier.

  Even though Kit and Jake’s connection to each other had created a firestorm of interest―at least it had for about forty-five minutes—the news of Kit’s kidnapping last night had changed everything.

  Baylee shook her head just thinking how fickle the media could be. She glanced at the wild-eyed, sleep-deprived reporters waiting in line. Some of them looked as though they had been up all night. Funny what a difference twenty-four hours could make, she thought.

  It had taken a kidnapping to put another twist in the story and brought them back full circle to the Book & Bean for Round Two.

  Today, they seemed to be working the sympathetic angle, convinced Jake and Kit had been wrongly accused. She could laugh now because they certainly hadn’t been convinced yesterday of the couple’s innocence.

  But once they discovered the wealthy Collin Boyd, son of slain murder victims Jessica and Sumner Boyd, had taken Kit hostage, the story had dominated the six o’clock newscast. Then at ten o’clock, those same news reporters had announced her rescue. And that was before anyone had known about the faceless, unknown stranger who had come charging into an abandoned warehouse in Thousand Oaks where Collin had been holding Kit, and saved the day. He’d shot Kit’s captors, including Collin, and then called Jake to come pick her up.

  By the time Jake had arrived, the stranger had already disappeared. Jake had found Kit still unconscious. Luckily by the time she woke up in the hospital, she hadn’t remembered a thing about the kidnapping other than the role Collin had played in the whole thing.

  The fact that Jake had found one of those mysterious gold cowboys that had been left with each of the other victims clutched in the palm of Kit’s hand suggested that the man who had come to her rescue was the same one who had murdered Alana as well as all the others—and now for whatever reason had decided to play hero.

  No one close to Kit felt like complaining.

  Kit was alive, thanks to the stranger, and tucked away in her little bungalow along the water’s edge.

  As Baylee waited on yet another customer, she thought the whole thing sounded like the plot from one of her father’s action movies.

  No wonder the media had shown up again, she thought moodily as she absently wiped down the counter once more before taking another order.

  Looking out over the strange faces in the crowded shop, Baylee thought she recognized some of the same on-air television reporters from yesterday. As more news vans pulled up in front of the store, it was clear they were staking the place out, hoping to find out more about Kit’s mystery savior.

  Even now, they were clamoring to get another story for the noon newscast. It made her stomach burn to think the sharks were circling. They were obviously waiting for Jake and Kit to make an appearance so they could jockey for a quote on camera, no less.

  Well, they’ll be sorely disappointed on that score, thought Baylee, as she expertly worked the espresso machine, mixing together java with steaming milk, working on making the perfect blend. She doubted Jake intended to let Kit out of his sight for days yet.

  Baylee sighed. She hoped they weren’t staking out Kit’s house at this very moment. Her friend desperately needed some downtime.

  That was the reason why she’d offered to open up for the next couple of mornings even if it meant she and Sarah had to get up extra early to make the drive in from Agoura Hills, from the sweet little guest cottage she’d rented from Gloria.

  Baylee didn’t mind. Kit was more like family, more like a sister than her best friend. They would do anything for each other. The least she could do was mind the store to keep Kit away from the prying eyes and the inane questions of the pesky media. Even though it might mean she and Sarah risked wandering into the spotlight right along with Kit and Jake.

  She shook off the alarm that wanted to creep in. Chancing a quick look at her almost six-month-old daughter, who sat in her swing behind the counter, content for the moment to chew on a red plastic teething bracelet, Baylee sucked in a breath. Knowing Collin had been desperate enough to kidnap Kit last night was bad enough and sent chills down her arms in spite of the heat from the espresso machine.

  But as she methodically passed the finished product, the latte, to the waiting hands of her customer, she fought off images of what Collin’s brother, Connor, might do if he found out she was here in San Madrid, and had been for months.

  She needed to think about leaving L.A. for good. The problem with taking off again though, meant she’d be leaving behind her dying father, not to mention the fact that she’d have to go on the run with Sarah.

  How could she keep doing that to her baby daughter? Sarah deserved better. To Baylee it seemed she’d been on the move ever since the baby’s birth, unsettled, moving from place to place.

  She had to get her life back on track. But how could she do that when she was so terrified Connor would find out about the baby? The idea put the reality of her situation front and center.

  As she wiped down the counter again for the twentieth time that morning, Baylee thought about what she wanted. She wanted for her and Sarah to be left alone, to feel secure again; she wanted her life back the way it had been before Connor Boyd had crossed her path and shown her the dark side of his life. She wanted to be left alone to raise Sarah on her own. And she’d do anything, absolutely anything, to ensure he never learned Sarah existed.

  Was that asking too much? If she hadn’t had to come back to L.A. because of her father’s cancer, she would still be living in Denver, where she’d given birth. Living back with her friend, Blair Rafferty, the person she’d turned to during her pregnancy, and who had given her a job.

  She knew she’d hurt her friends, Kit and Quinn, by doing that. By shutting them out, they had been excluded from participating in Sarah’s birth. But how could she explain what had happened? She couldn’t take the chance that Connor wouldn’t have followed through on his threats.

  No, she thought, she would continue to keep her secret. Kit had too much going on in her life right now, too much to deal with to get bogged down with her problems. And Quinn, Quinn was a brand new resident doctor, just a month into her first year of residency. Others might not recognize her as “Doctor” Tyler just yet, but as far as Baylee was concerned, Quinn had earned the right to focus on her future, her career, without the added problems she brought to the table.

  Baylee sucked in a nervous breath and made a promise. She’d been handling the stress and pressure of it all for the past fifteen months―by herself.

  She would handle this on her own as well. She had to.

  Dylan Burke didn’t mind the drive up the Pacific Coast Highway.

  In fact, as he made his way north to San Madrid along the PCH, he sat behind the wheel of his classic muscle car, a spiffy convertible, a brilliant metallic blue 1968 Chevy Camaro he’d restored himself from the shell out, and jammed to Springsteen, drumming along as The Boss sang about having a hungry heart. Enjoying the scenery, Dylan absently reached over and cranked up the volume.

  On one side of the road he watched the waves lap up against the shoreline, moving lazily in and out. On the other side, he enjoyed a glimpse of fast-moving rolling hills dotted with clusters of purple lupine, California orange poppies, and sand asters in late spring bloom.

  The ocean breeze lifted the loose blond hair Dylan hadn’t bothered tying back into his usual stumpy ponytail. As he took in the scenic drive, he decided doing a favor for his best friend, Jake Boston, who also happened to be his employer, had its own rewards.

  Today the VP of research and development at Billing-Pro Software was playing errand boy. He’d promised Jake, who was basically babysitting Kit Griffin and working from her house in San Madrid, that he’d drop off some much needed computer equipment to make telecommuting a little easier.

  And after last night’s kidnapping, Dylan knew Jake had no intention
of letting Kit out of his sight for even a minute. So he knew the state-of-the-art scanner, the extra modem, as well as the laptop computer he carried in the trunk of his car would be a welcome addition to Jake’s virtual home office.

  Dylan didn’t dwell on the fact that he could have simply shipped the equipment via same day delivery. No, he had volunteered to make the trip for one purely selfish reason. The side benefit stood about five-three with shoulder-length brown hair and had the most alluring pair of aquamarine eyes he’d ever seen.

  He didn’t even want to linger for very long on the way Baylee Scott filled out a pair of jeans. If he was completely honest with himself, he’d been captivated by her since that first night at the hospital, the night Collin Boyd had run Kit’s car off the road.

  Just thinking about Baylee made him grin. No, he didn’t mind making this side trip at all.

  By the time he reached the city limits sign, denoting San Madrid, population four thousand and seventy-five, he left the four-lane PCH and headed due east away from the ocean.

  Turning onto a genuine cobblestone Main Street, Dylan drove through the quaint fishing village, past a picturesque town square complete with a free-flowing fountain, past an assortment of shops until he reached the outskirts of town. By the time he realized he’d run out of shops and businesses, he was headed north again, out of town, connecting back to the PCH.

  In the blink of an eye, he’d completely blown past the heart of the little town. He looked for a place to make a sharp U turn and headed back the way he’d come. A half a mile or so back, he hit the business district and noticed the old-fashioned street signs, the gas streetlamps, and realized the town looked more like a scene out of the 1950’s.

  Pulling the car to a stop into a slotted street parking space directly in front of the Book & Bean, Dylan hoped this spur-of-the-moment visit wasn’t a bold move on his part. The other times he’d been around Baylee, she’d been skittish. And that was putting it mildly. He might not know a lot about this particular woman, but he did know she showed all the signs of having been hurt. Big time.

  As he got out of the car, he began to have second thoughts. To top it off, she was a single mother—a woman with a baby. In all the years of doing the backstroke in the dating pool, he’d never once so much as gone near a single mom. It hadn’t been something he had purposely avoided; it just hadn’t come up before.

  The women he usually dated were a far cry from mother material. If he had an ounce of sense, he’d get back in his car right now and head on over to Kit’s house, drop off the equipment, head to the nearest beach and grab his surfboard before the tide changed.

  But something in Baylee’s beautiful eyes had pulled at him that first night he’d met her. And weeks later the woman was still doing a solo drumbeat in his head he couldn’t shake.

  Refusing to listen to his inner voice of reason, Dylan opened the door of the bookstore and stepped inside. Immediately he removed his Oakley Spikes, looping them in the V of his shirt.

  The minute his eyes adjusted to the inside light, he took in the rows and rows of shelves filled with books, everything from romance novels, suspense and thrillers to science fiction, true crime, self-help, and a wealth of cookbooks. When he spotted the mystery section, he moved that way to check it out, telling himself he might as well pick out a couple of thrillers while he was here.

  And then Dylan heard the baby babble. There was no other way to describe it.

  He fixed his eyes on the small bundle of kicking feet, wearing cherry pink overalls, gurgling away in the Pack ’N Play set up by the cash register in the middle of the store.

  He watched as the tiny little thing flopped on her stomach, those big blue eyes, so like her mother’s, trying to zero in on a plastic spoon-looking thing. As he stood mesmerized, she reached out a chubby little fist trying to make a grab for the spoon thing. As she made the reach she rose up as if to crawl, but landed back down, flat on her belly.

  Fascinated, Dylan stood there entranced until he heard voices. His eyes drifted to Sarah’s harried mother, dressed in a form-fitting blue sun dress, a shade lighter than those aqua colored eyes.

  Baylee was in the process of helping a difficult customer, trying to locate a particular hard-to-find second book in a trilogy, when she looked up at the man standing beside the Pack ’N Play. Their eyes met. She stopped what she was doing long enough to wave at him. He saw her absently brush a few loose strands of hair off of her face, a gesture he recognized as a habit she had when she was uneasy, which was practically twenty-four-seven.

  When the customer decided she’d buy another book by the same author, Baylee cheerfully rang up the woman’s purchase, trying to keep her mind on the transaction instead of on the tall, lean, muscular man with blond hair that hung loose to his shoulders. The hair made him look more like a surfer instead of the vice president of a software company.

  Dylan watched her work the register, but noticed that all the while she kept a nervous, watchful eye on the baby. She might be jumpy, thought Dylan, but the woman was an energetic little package and then some.

  As soon as the customer turned to leave, Baylee shoved the cash drawer closed and charged over to the Pack ’N Play. She leaned down and picked up Sarah, snuggling the baby into her body. Turning to Dylan, she asked sweetly, “What brings you to San Madrid? Are you lost?”

  His mouth curved into a cocky grin. “I’m playing delivery boy this morning, dropping off some computer equipment for Jake. After what happened last night, the man’s determined not to let Kit out of his sight for two seconds. I’m on my way over there now. But I couldn’t pass through town without stopping by to check out the legendary Book & Bean, now could I? Not when I might be able to talk you out of some more of that mouth-watering chocolate cake, the kind you brought the other night to Gloria’s.”

  If it were possible, Baylee’s smile widened all the way to her cute ears where a pair of huge silver hoops dangled prominently. “So you liked my cake. The secret’s in the cinnamon. I mix cinnamon in with the chocolate. Of course, I’m not as good at baking as Kit is, but let’s face it, since her accident, she gave me the go-ahead to try my hand at some of her tried-and-true recipes. You know, just so the customers won’t go elsewhere for their baked goods while she was on the mend.

  “And after what happened last night… I offered to open up this morning. Give her some extra time to recover from her ordeal. Thank God someone came along when they did and rescued Kit from Collin and then called Jake. Collin threatened to kill her, Dylan. If that stranger hadn’t come along…”

  Baylee realized she was sputtering like an old car out of tune. For Pete’s sake, could she just shut up for a minute? Why did she always let this man with the surfer body, the blond hair and the bedroom blue eyes make her so nervous? She needed to get a grip.

  Even though her rambling only reflected how grateful she was to the unnamed man who had come along at just the right moment, she just couldn’t help but marvel at the miracle of that.

  She looked up and saw Dylan grin at the fact she’d finally stopped talking.

  “Come on, we’ll take care of that sweet tooth of yours, Mr. Burke.”

  As he followed her lead into the coffee shop, he tried to get his mind on something besides the woman’s legs. It was the first time he’d seen her wearing a dress. And disappointed, he wasn’t. In fact, if it were possible he thought she looked better than he’d ever seen her, more rested, more relaxed, not as jittery as usual. In fact she appeared downright happy.

  As he looked around the shop, the place was empty, not a customer in sight. But it was spotless. The weathered oak counter was buffed to a glossy shine that matched the one on the hardwood floors. The half a dozen small round oak tables had been bussed and the chairs neatly pushed underneath.

  There were four overstuffed chairs that looked like you could hunker down and get comfortable in them and stay a while to read a book. He noted the glass display case was polished to a shine, didn’t have a
smudge on it, and held a rather stark assortment of various baked goods, including a couple of leftover cherry tarts and four paltry cinnamon rolls. The inventory had either been picked over, or hadn’t been there to begin with.

  “Slow day?”

  “Now it is. The media with their camera crews cleared out about thirty minutes ago. You just missed them. They ate everything Gloria and I baked last night. Gloria’s guest cottage doesn’t have much in the way of a kitchen, but with Kit out of action until recently and the coffee shop still needing a supply of pastry, Gloria and I have been teaming up using her kitchen to make sure there are plenty of baked goods to sell.

  “But it just so happens I saved back the chocolate cake. I planned to drop it off at Kit’s with the other leftovers when I closed up.”

  He sucked in a breath, blew it out. “Glad to hear the media got tired of waiting. Those two don’t need any more hassles.”

  “They didn’t. Get tired of waiting, that is. They took off after getting a tip about some mega superstar who tried to surf off Malibu and had to be rescued by lifeguards. The fact that he had to be rushed to the hospital topped the Jake and Kit saga. The mega star’s unfortunate mishap had all of them scrambling out of here like ants after sugar, cleared the place out. Kit and Jake can’t compete with that.” Her lips curled in a wide grin.

  “The vultures are like pond scum, aren’t they? You wouldn’t happen to know who called that tip in, would you?”

  She grinned and gave him a wink. “Don’t have a clue.” She hadn’t grown up in the heart of Hollywood for nothing. She knew well how the paparazzi prized a good celebrity sighting, especially when there was the chance the “star” might have suffered injuries.

  “You must have been swamped here by yourself.”

  “For a little while it was chaos, but we’re used to a line out the door. There’s a rush here almost every morning. We don’t officially open until seven, but Kit has the locals spoiled. The early birds commuting into Ventura and L.A. know if they drop in around six-thirty or so she’ll go ahead and fix them up with coffee and fresh Danish.