Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  “It is past time Jake confronted him and got some answers for his own peace of mind. He doesn’t have a choice, Kit.”

  “I know. But I wanted to be there with him.”

  “Are you ready for that, to sit down with them and listen while they go over all the gory details about what happened to Claire? He couldn’t share that with you, Kit. He doesn’t want that part of his life tainting yours. Don’t you see that? He’s doing his best to separate that part of his life from you.”

  “He said almost the same thing. But hearing it from you, you always did see everything so clearly. That’s why I don’t understand how you couldn’t have trusted Quinn and me to help you during what had to be the most difficult of circumstances.”

  “I know you don’t. I’m sorry I disappointed both of you.”

  “You didn’t, Baylee. But to go through childbirth without us to help, Connor must have really scared you.”

  Tired to the bone had her revealing what she hadn’t been able to tell anyone. “He didn’t just call, Kit. One night after I found out I was pregnant; he caught me off guard, outside my apartment. He had this crazy look in his eyes. He told me if I ever told anyone,” she hedged, bit her lip. “He’d killed before and he would do it again. Those were his exact words. He’d killed before to protect what he had, that no one would take down what his family had built just because of a one-night stand. I had no idea what he was talking about. But he scared the crap out of me. So much that I knew I’d never tell him about the pregnancy. Those crazy eyes told me if I said anything to you or Quinn about what happened he’d do something to both of you. And if…” She took a shaky breath.

  “If one of my neighbors hadn’t pulled into the parking lot about that time, I’m convinced he would have done something to me that night. My neighbor got out of his car. He came over and asked if I needed help. Luckily, Connor took off before I could answer. But the following day, he called to remind me again he’d hurt you or Quinn if I said a word. So I didn’t. That e-mail Dylan got tonight said he wants me dead, Kit.”

  “Oh, Baylee, Jake thinks he’s the one who killed Claire.”

  “Oh, God, really? I think he’s certainly capable of it.”

  Seeing the pitiful look on Kit’s face obviously there because she didn’t want to leave Jake, Baylee tried to make her feel better and bumped her shoulder. “It’s been ages since we were in Catalina. Remember how Dad always flew us over there in that little plane of his? Remember how we used to love going up and then looking down over the water? Didn’t your father take you to Catalina once on a boat trip for the day?”

  Kit nodded.

  With no sign of a mood change, Baylee went on, “Won’t it be fun to sail, even if we are making the trip at night?”

  “We won’t use the sails, Baylee. I’m sure Dylan will probably use the motor to get us there as fast as he can at this hour of the night.”

  “Oh. Well, you know more about that than I do. Remember that time the three of us found that old row boat that had washed up on shore? We wanted to make it into a pirate ship. That happened in Catalina.”

  “Okay, I get it. I’m making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just a couple of nights apart. I should be able to deal with that.”

  “Think of it as a well-deserved rest after, you know, having so much…sex in the early stages.” Baylee grinned. “Not like I was peeking in the window or anything. But it’s fairly typical early in the relationship. Not that I would know anything about having too much sex, or any, for that matter.”

  Kit laughed, bumping Baylee’s shoulder. “So you and Dylan haven’t gotten around to doing the bump and grind yet.”

  Baylee sighed. “I’m a mess right now. And this thing with Connor would scare anyone off. I don’t want Dylan getting hurt. And we agreed to take it slow because of Sarah, you know, not just jump in the sack.”

  “But you want to…”

  “Oh, God, yes. Yes, I do.” The admission had her peering over at her wide-awake daughter sitting in the carrier playing with her hands. “I don’t want to mess this up, Kit. Look at her. She’s the reason I get up every day, the reason I’ve gotten through all of this. If it hadn’t been for her…”

  Kit reached out with her hand and took hold of Baylee’s. “I can only imagine how difficult all this has been on you, but I’ll help you any way I can. We all will, Baylee. You don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore. We agreed to keep Connor from knowing anything about Sarah. We’ll continue doing what we have to do.”

  Jake approached them slowly and announced, “She’s all loaded, ready to go.” His face had a look of pure dejection as he locked gazes with Kit. Baylee took the hint and left them alone to say goodbye.

  Carting the baby carrier with Sarah tucked inside, she walked down the gangway to board and spotted Dylan standing at the helm. When he looked up and saw her hefting the infant carrier, he came around to take the thing out of her hands.

  “Who do we have here?” he asked the baby in a jovial tone, as he easily swung her up to eye level. Sarah giggled at the movement, reaching out, trying to get her hands on Dylan’s face.

  He responded by shooting her a wide grin, letting her touch his nose. Instinctively, he kissed her hands. “Ready for your first boat ride, Gidget? It’ll probably be a rough ride tonight. Sorry, nothing I can do about that.” He made like he was chewing on her fingers and she cooed at the attention.

  The scene made Baylee’s heart swell at the way Dylan seemed to act as if Sarah were his own. If only…

  Once they got underway, the sway of the boat as it rose up and down, skimming on top of the water at a rapid pace, kept them from too much activity. Kit had been right. Dylan didn’t bother with the sails but rather gunned the motor with a speed she was sure he was at ease with.

  In spite of the constant motion, Baylee located the galley and made a pot of much needed coffee for all of them. When the coffeemaker finished brewing, she found a thermal cup and filled it full, adding enough sugar to give Dylan a nice buzz, just the way he liked it. She left Kit sitting in the salon holding Sarah on her lap and took the coffee topside.

  He was standing at the helm. She went around to face him, handing him the cup. “You look like you could use this.”

  Grateful, he took the steaming coffee all the while keeping his eyes on the black horizon. “It’s a clear night, but we’ve got a head wind picking up. It’ll take us longer than I thought.”

  The man looked windblown and tired but exhilarated as if he were in the middle of a race, competing against the elements. Gone was the fear she’d seen in his eyes earlier at the house, replaced instead by a fierce concentration. “You like going fast.”

  The intensity in his face softened into a smug grin. “Yeah. It’s an adrenaline rush to go at top speed. But I’m careful, Baylee. The boat’s equipped with GPS, a warning sensor, and radar. I won’t do anything stupid, especially at night to put us at risk. Radar shows it’s clear sailing all the way to Avalon.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t think you would. It’s a pretty rough ride, though.”

  “It is that. Tell me about where we’ll be staying.”

  She told him about the old Spanish-style house built in the forties she remembered so well from childhood. The house backed up to the beach and looked out over the mountains. She described how far the harbor was from the house, and then went into a lengthy list of all the things they could do on the island. “I remember how the water used to be so clear you could see the fish swimming around. I hope it’s still like that. But there’s snorkeling, and diving, you can explore the caves in the area. You’ll have fun. It’ll be like a vacation.”

  He listened with interest, noting her exuberance. She obviously had fond memories of the place. He hoped she could settle in and relax there, maybe put the Boyd bastard out of her mind for a while.

  Because for him this trip was anything but a holiday.

  Two and a half hours later, Dylan had them docking in Avalon a little af
ter three in the morning. As soon as Dylan killed the engine, Baylee helped him with the lines, getting the boat moored. Rubbing his eyes, Dylan told her, “We’ll sleep on the boat. It’s too dark to unload all the supplies anyway. And we need to get some sleep. How did Sarah do on the trip? Did she get seasick?”

  Amazed that he would even think to ask about Sarah at this time of night as tired as he was, her heart dissolved into mush. If he continued to melt her resolve with all these simple gestures she’d have no choice but to jump his bones. “She’s a good little sailor, but I kept her awake during the trip hoping she’d go back down as soon as we do.”

  “Good thinking. Tell me more about the house. How far is it from where we are right now?”

  “It’s just up the hill from Pebbly Beach. It won’t take long to get there. Unloading will be a problem, though. It always is.”

  “I figured that. We’ll use the dinghy to transport everything back and forth. You know, Catalina is one place where I haven’t spent a whole lot of time. I came here some years back for the day and the place was so packed with tourists we left after only a few hours.” He saw no reason to mention the cute little redhead who’d accompanied him on the trip.

  “Good. It’s nice to know there’s one place I can show you around that you haven’t already seen a dozen times before, someplace new where I can enjoy showing you the sights.”

  He cupped her chin. “As long as I’m with you, Baylee, as long as I get to spend time around you and Sarah, the where doesn’t really matter.” He brought his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. His lips met hers in a fierce, long, hard kiss, one that would have to hold them both for a while since Kit and Sarah were below deck. He brushed several loose strands of hair off her face and abruptly let her go. “You need to get some sleep.”

  “So do you.”

  Once they got below deck, Dylan noticed that Baylee, Kit, and Sarah had already settled into the foreword cabin. He headed for the aft stateroom where he promptly shed his clothes and crawled into bed. Five minutes later, he was fast asleep.

  In Malibu, Connor Boyd couldn’t sleep. Wide awake, he paced back and forth, unable to let go of the fact that Baylee had a baby. Could he be the kid’s father? It was too much of a coincidence that they’d been together a year ago last March. He wasn’t stupid. No matter what this Dylan Burke guy had said, he needed to find out more about the kid. Was it a boy or a girl? He wanted it to be a boy, a son. He could teach him everything just like his father had taught him.

  When had the kid been born and where? Had she been pregnant when she left L.A.? That could be the reason why she’d disappeared. She wouldn’t have wanted him to know about the pregnancy. For close to eight months, he’d looked for her and had come up empty. Okay, so he wouldn’t admit that little tidbit to anyone that he’d actually spent a great deal of his time and money trying to track her down without success.

  He would need to find out everything he could about this Burke guy. How long had the two of them been a couple? He shook his head. No, he refused to buy into the possibility the guy could be the baby’s father. The more he thought about it, the more he decided the baby belonged to him. And if it did, that changed things, considerably.

  “Goddamn it, why didn’t you tell me, Baylee? Having a child could have turned things around for me. I can’t believe you’d keep to yourself. You bitch,” he uttered, as the black pain of a headache almost blinded him. At that, he hurled the glass he held in his hand against the wall, shattering the crystal into hundreds of pieces.

  The next morning in Pacific Palisades, Connor sat behind the wheel of his Hummer parked outside Dylan Burke’s beach bungalow staring at an empty house. It appeared no one was home. No car in the driveway might mean Baylee and the baby had already taken off to parts unknown. Damn his contact at the DMV anyway. If the guy hadn’t taken yesterday off, he might have caught her before she left.

  In the passenger seat next to him, Cade watched his older brother with avid interest. Usually cool as ice on Mt, McKinley, Connor sat unshaven, wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before. The guy looked like he was coming unglued.

  “Why this interest in Baylee all of a sudden? Come on, level with me. What’s going on? This is the personal problem you needed to take care of? What gives?”

  “That baby you saw yesterday might be mine.”

  That’s the last thing Cade expected him to say. His jaw visibly dropped. “You and Baylee. When?”

  “Last March; the seventeenth to be exact, St. Patrick’s Day. Get hold of someone in Vital Statistics, will you? I don’t care if you have to dangle a shitload of money to get the information either. But I need to find out if Baylee Scott delivered a baby sometime last December.”

  Cade nodded, ridiculously touched at the idea of having a niece or a nephew. “I’ll check November, too just in case it came early.”

  Cade watched as Connor got out of the car and walked up to the front door of Burke’s house.

  On the off chance that she’d just open the door, Connor rang the bell. When there was no answer he began to pound furiously on the wood. Angry, he took off around the cottage, looking through the windows, all the while wondering who had tipped them off. How had they known to run?

  When he looked up and spotted a tall, attractive brunette wearing her wetsuit and carrying a surfboard heading out of the water, toward him, an idea formed. He automatically reached to straighten his tie and realized he wasn’t wearing one. As the woman got closer, he turned on the charm. “Hi. I’m looking for Dylan Burke. Do you know him? Are you a neighbor?”

  The brunette thought the guy staring at her was tall, dark, and dreamy, so she nudged up her flirt quotient. “Sure, everyone in the neighborhood knows Dylan. You’re standing right in front of his house.”

  Annoyed at the stupid bitch but trying not to drop the charming façade, his voice tightened when he said, “Right. Maybe you could tell me something; does Dylan have children, a baby, perhaps?”

  “Dylan? Funny you should ask,” she said getting a huge kick out of the fact that she got to gossip about what she’d heard. “There’s a woman that’s been staying at his house for over a week now. Marilyn Harper, who lives across the street, told me she’s seen them coming and going carrying a baby. And then over the Memorial weekend, Kendra saw the two of them eating out, and sure enough, Dylan told them the baby was his daughter.”

  Connor flinched at that. So it was a girl. He hid his disappointment. Boy, girl, did it really make a difference now after the fact? Suddenly, his head pounded. He forced aside the black thoughts swirling inside trying to cloud his vision.

  Coming back to himself, he prodded, “But you don’t believe it?”

  “Actually, I don’t. I suppose it could be true, I mean the way Dylan is with women, he’s such a horn dog anything is possible. But let’s face it, a single guy like Dylan isn’t exactly the father type. He’s lived here for five years, and trust me I’ve never seen him with a kid. Until now. Although…” She paused for effect and leaned closer, “…like I said, I guess it could be true, I mean the guy’s a real player where women are concerned. And when you sleep around like that, well—it catches up with you eventually. If you know what I mean.”

  “But had you ever seen the woman before a week ago? Did this Burke and the woman have a history together that you know of?”

  “Well now, it’s hard to tell with Dylan. Could be she’s one of the women who visit him frequently and I just missed seeing her.”

  “Thanks.” For nothing, Connor thought as he headed back to his car, disappointing the brunette. And then he realized that wasn’t true. He had a daughter. At that moment, he knew what he wanted. He wanted that baby. He’d find Baylee. He’d find the baby. Just then, his cell phone interrupted his thoughts. Caller ID told him it was good old Uncle Frank.

  Connor could tell even over the phone that Frank was nervous. Something was wrong.

  “Jankovic’s disappeared. He isn’t answeri
ng his cell phone.”

  “What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” Connor asked, irritated, as the charming demeanor fell away for good, replaced by a heartless rage.

  Unconvinced Jankovic was this professional hit man Frank had touted, he added, “He better not have disappeared with the money, Frank, without finishing the job, or it’s coming out of your pocket, understand? I’m not paying for another screw-up. You got that?”

  Frank tried to placate his impatient nephew. “I’m sure that isn’t the case. Although I haven’t heard from him since he was supposed to drive out to San Madrid to take care of Boston and the Griffin woman. I’ve watched the news but there’s been no mention of an explosion out that way. I called the Book & Bean yesterday and a woman answered. So I know the place is still standing. I’m assuming it was Kit who picked up. Jankovic obviously didn’t follow through. Maybe something happened or for some reason he couldn’t get inside and had to abort the plan. I don’t know for certain.”

  “Well for chrissakes find out. I thought this guy was supposed to be a goddamned professional.”

  “He is. He comes highly recommended. I assure you, Connor, the man knows what he’s doing.”

  It didn’t sound like that to Connor. “Well, get on it, man. Call me back. I want to know what’s going on. We’re paying this guy a fortune to get the job done. I want results, not excuses.”

  “I’m on it; trust me to find out.”

  “You’d better. If we can’t rely on this guy, we need to know about it now. You take care of it, Frank. I have problems of my own to deal with,” he chided as he climbed back into his Hummer, all the while snapping his fingers at Cade to hurry up and get back in the vehicle.

  “What did you find out from the brunette?”

  “It’s a girl. Now I just need to know when she was born. Get on it, Cade. I need details. I have a daughter.”

  Across town at the East L.A. sheriff’s department, six-foot-four ex-cop, Jordan Donovan pulled his SUV into the parking lot anxious to spend his morning with the cold case detective, Ron Blake, who had finally agreed to sit down with him and listen to what he surmised happened to Pete and Mary Parker.