Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Emerging from the plane, the tall and lanky Nick Tyler walked down the steps and snorted. “Yeah, I’m a bloody saint. I’m here because this Brennan chap says she’s in some sort of danger. I’ll see what it’s about and be better for it.”

  Out of habit from dealing with years of paparazzi, overzealous fans, and just plain stalkers bent on getting close to him, he took in the dark surroundings.

  A poorly lit hangar beckoned.

  The slightly built Gerald, a good foot shorter than Nick, was still skeptical. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but if you sleep on it tonight and decide in the morning to make a break for it, head home to Ballybrack, I’m in your corner.”

  “If only we could, Ger,” Nick said, slapping his friend on the back. “If only we could.”

  As the two men stood outside on the tarmac and watched as the ground crew pulled the jet into the hangar, there was no entourage, no media present, and no fans waiting for them in the luxury lounge.

  And that was fine by Nick Tyler. He’d made this trip not for publicity’s sake but because he needed to see her.

  There had been a time in his life when he couldn’t take ten steps outside his front door or go out for a bloody cup of tea without being hounded by someone or other who wanted a quote about this or that or wanted his bloody autograph.

  Oh, he was still an icon, make no mistake. But over time and with age, his mega success had been replaced by the likes of other, younger bands that had put their own mark on the music business just as he once had.

  But tonight, he carried his own suitcase.

  Casually and with ease, he threw his laptop bag on his shoulder and walked through the lounge. Looking out through a huge plate-glass window, he spotted the waiting limo that would take them to their hotel.

  Thanks to his personal assistant, he wouldn’t be trying to maneuver around L.A. traffic on unfamiliar streets.

  Even in the dark he could sense he was in a heavy populated area of L.A. The night sounds of summer so different here than his own quiet Ireland farm. As a commercial jet rumbled overhead, it briefly drowned out the hustle and bustle of traffic noise coming from somewhere in the distance.

  The limo driver waited at the curb, holding the passenger door open. Nick headed that way, followed by Gerald.

  An uneasy feeling hit his stomach. Surely his daughter would understand what he had wanted to achieve, what he had wanted to carve out of the music industry, what had infinitely been more important than she had been.

  At least for once, he hoped he could explain it to her in person.

  Quinn woke wrapped around Reese like a clinging vine. It was a first for her. She hadn’t been kidding the night before. She never let men spend the night in her bed. She’d known for years what might happen if she did.

  And the first time she had let a man stay over, the dream surfaced and ruined everything.

  She’d been caught up in the moment, caught up in Reese. She’d let down her guard. Now, this man knew the darkest part of her past, a chunk she’d kept hidden away even from Baylee and Kit.

  Looking back, when she’d been thirteen, she’d been so afraid they would take one look at her and guess what Ross had done to her. When that hadn’t happened, she’d pretended it had never taken place. For two years it had worked. And then…it had happened again.

  She shook her head, did her best to ward off those old feelings of anxiety. She rolled over to stretch and Reese snaked out an arm to bring her back into his body.

  The first thing Reese saw was Quinn’s black curtain of hair draped across his chest.

  The bright morning sun filtering through the window fell on that long mane of hair just so, and for some reason, poetry popped into his brain. “One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.”

  Quinn’s eyes bugged out. “What manner of man quotes Byron so early in the morning?” She planted a kiss on his mouth. “'She Walks in Beauty’ no less?”

  “It’s your hair, all that black glistening in the light. I’ve had a thing for your hair since that first night I saw you swaggering down the corridor in your white doctor’s coat looking so—hot. Yeah, it was the ponytail and how I imagined it draped over me in bed. Kind of like it is right now. You have incredibly sexy hair.”

  She whooped with laughter. “Whoever heard of sexy hair? I knew that you’d have to be eloquent for court, but where do you come up with this stuff? You’re an absolute wonder, you know that, Reese Brennan?”

  “I know. It’s about time you came to your senses in that department, become a fan.”

  “And create more of a monster? No way. You’re confident enough without me feeding your ego.”

  “Aw, you’re such a hard ass.”

  She ran a hand down his body. When she got to his lower belly, she stated, “Mmm, something else is hard.”

  “The question is what do you intend to do about it?”

  “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to show you.”

  Later, standing in the kitchen, Reese had just poured his first cup of coffee waiting for Quinn to finish getting dressed and was about to take a sip when his cell phone rang. He sighed and stepped to the back door to take in the view. He let himself enjoy several more seconds of blissful solitude and took in the glistening, calm water of Avalon Bay. Maybe after all this was over they could take some time off and enjoy more of what the Island had to offer.

  Reluctantly, he left the peaceful outdoor view and went over, picked up his ringing cell phone.

  “Reese Brennan,” he stated as he leaned over and automatically got out his laptop from the bag he’d brought.

  “Mr. Brennan, is it? This is Nick Tyler. You e-mailed me about my daughter, Quinn, sent one e-mail to my attorney first and then sent another one to me. The last said there was no need for me to make the trip to America after all.”

  To Nick, it sounded funny saying those three little words, “my daughter Quinn,” to a complete stranger, but what choice did he have? “Your last e-mail said to disregard the earlier one to Mr. Baines. Do I have that right?”

  Taken aback by the caller, Reese had to think fast. “That’s correct. It isn’t necessary to come after all. We have the situation well in hand now and it was premature of me to alert you to any type of problem.”

  “But that’s just it, Mr. Brennan. I have made the trip over to America to see my daughter. I’d like you to set up a meeting between us.”

  Reese stuttered at the knowledge the man was in L.A., especially when he looked up and saw the daughter in question, who still looked rumpled from their bout of morning sex, stroll into the kitchen.

  She took the cup of coffee out of his fist and drank deeply. “Mmm, who are you talking to at this hour of the morning, Brennan? Sheesh, you are a workaholic, so dedicated you’re on the clock, worse than me.”

  Reese did his best to ignore her and get rid of the father she didn’t know he’d contacted behind her back. “Uh, uh, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. As I said, the situation is under control now.”

  Nick frowned. Maybe Gerald had been right. Maybe this was some kind of scam. “Look, do you know Quinn Tyler or not? If this is a ruse of some sort I’m in no mood to be played. My own attorney discouraged me from making the trip. But I’m here now and if you know Quinn I insist on seeing her.”

  “Could I get back to you on that?”

  “For chrissakes, are you telling me this is a bad time or what?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. This is a very bad time to talk right now.”

  “Fine. But if you’re playing me…”

  Reese cut him off. “I assure you my e-mail was genuine.”

  “So you can set up a meeting? Can you do that?”

  “Yes. When would be a good time for you?”

  “The sooner the better, this has been a long time coming. Would t
his afternoon work for you?”

  “No, not this afternoon, tomorrow morning would be much better.” And would give him an extra twenty-four hours to either explain things to Quinn or come up with some way to get her into his office. “Can I use this number to reach you?”

  “Absolutely. Or you can contact me here at the hotel. I’m staying at the Bel Air Monaco. So we’re on for tomorrow morning, then? Where and what time?”

  Reese shot a glance at Quinn, sucked in a nervous breath. “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning, my office. My assistant will call you back with directions on how to get there.”

  Once the phone call ended, Reese weighed his options. He’d just spent a wonderful night with the woman he wanted. Just when they’d taken two steps toward firmer ground, could he rip that ground from under her feet by bringing her, like a lamb to slaughter, to the father who’d never given her the time of day?

  He considered his own father and what a great relationship the two of them had shared growing up. What if he’d never known that? What if he harbored a lifetime of resentment over neglect? How would he handle a father who had never bothered to get in touch?

  He zoned back to the present. Surely she would understand the importance of getting to know her father at long last.

  He made his decision because there were simply too many unanswered questions from Quinn’s past he didn’t understand. He only hoped she would see the relevance of asking Nick Tyler for herself.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn. I know I promised you a couple of days of downtime but something’s come up. We have to head back to L.A.”

  After pouring another cup of coffee, she assumed that “something” had to do with the Nutty Brothers. Perusing the contents of the refrigerator for something to eat, she grumbled, “When’s this Boyd thing going to end anyway? When do we get our lives back to normal?” She turned from the appliance and tilted her head to stare at him. “What’s up with you anyway? You seem—preoccupied. Are you having regrets about us sleeping together?”

  Time to run out the clock, he decided. He went to where she stood and took her mouth, a deep kiss that had him wanting to spread her out on top of the counter for breakfast.

  But there were other more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. “Where is this sudden lack of self-confidence coming from? We’ve known each other two months. During which time you’ve managed to give off enough self-assured vibes to scale Mt. Everest in a single bound. If this is about…your nightmare from the past,” he grabbed her arm. “Cut it out!”

  She ran her fingers down his stubborn jaw. “You’re right. It’s just that I’ve never shared that with another soul and—you knowing—it’s bothering me.”

  “I get that but…do you want a pinky swear or something that I won’t say a word to anyone else?”

  She giggled. “Okay. I’m being silly. Look, you made the coffee. I’ll start breakfast. How’s that? If we’re leaving then we’ll finish off all the eggs and the bread. Hmm, might as well cook the bacon, too, no sense letting it go to waste.”

  “How does a woman eat like a linebacker and stay so fit and trim? Do you even know what the inside of a gym looks like?”

  “Metabolism,” she muttered as she lined up strips of bacon on a paper towel to pop into the microwave. “And I’m on the go a lot. Now that I’m suspended, though, I’ll probably gain ten pounds.”

  “Yeah, right,” Reese said as he slid bread into the toaster. “Maybe we can come back here after all this is over, take some time to enjoy the area.”

  “That’d be nice but after I go back to the hospital I won’t get a lot of days off.”

  “We’ll work something out. As you pointed out last night, it’s only fifteen minutes by air.”

  After breakfast, while they got the Sea Warrior ready to sail, Reese’s phone rang again. This time, it was Jake. “When are you guys heading back?”

  Fearing Nick Tyler had somehow managed to phone the others and the jig was already up, Reese demanded, “Why do you ask?”

  “Jordan Donovan wants a meeting with us this afternoon at three.”

  “We’re about to head out now. With sailing time around three hours, we should be back to Crandall House in plenty of time. ” Fearing another one of his secrets might have been exposed, Reese asked, “Do you know what this meeting is about?”

  “Yeah. Mr. X has a name.”

  CHAPTER 15 Book 3

  Reese had sailed the Sea Warrior on many occasions. Even though Jake was her registered owner, the prior year when he’d been busy in Japan, Reese and Dylan had gladly stepped in and kept the boat seaworthy by taking turns putting her out on the water.

  There had been times during that year he’d sailed solo, while at other times he’d taken the boat out with a client or two or acquaintances from the courthouse.

  Before that, since all three had roots in the Bay area, there had been those buddy times where he and Jake and Dylan had set sail north to see relatives or keep in touch with old school chums and then sail her back down the California Coast.

  During those times together there might’ve been as many as twenty people on board, mostly family. They’d invited parents, or siblings and their spouses. They’d partied, drank, and always enjoyed spending whatever time they could manage on the water.

  Anytime Reese could get away from the grind of work, away from filings and briefs, he tried to treasure getting out on the water.

  But not today.

  Today, he felt like the biggest jerk.

  Setting up a meeting with Nick Tyler behind Quinn’s back he’d no doubt have to pay a price, a huge one, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to pay at all.

  He already knew that when she found out, he’d have to make damned sure there were no cherished items sitting nearby that she could pick up and throw at his head.

  He glanced over at the woman standing at the railing, looking down at the water, studying a school of fish. She looked exactly the same as that very first time he’d ever laid eyes on her.

  And yet, something was different, something was off.

  Since last night, she acted as though the disclosure of dark horrible events from her past, things that had been completely out of her control, might somehow alter his opinion of her.

  And that pissed him off. If he could find Ross Jennetti, if he could bash in his face with his own two hands, it might make him feel better.

  As he stood at the helm, he wondered what was running through her head. She’d been distracted since they’d boarded. Something was going on inside that head of hers she didn’t intend to share, especially with him.

  As much as he wanted to find out, he had a more pressing, bigger problem. How could he change her mind about meeting Nick Tyler in a short twenty-four-hour span? And how in the world did he intend to get out of this mess he’d created?

  When she came around to the helm, and put her arms around his waist, rested her head on his shoulder, he decided he needed to work on getting her to talk to him. Because there was no way he could drag her into his office and then yell “surprise!”

  “You okay? Got your sea legs yet? You look sleepy.”

  “The Dramamine helped.”

  He ran his hands up and down her back. “I’m worried about you.”

  She yawned and then kissed him soundly on the mouth. “Sorry, I’m not a very good sailor.”

  Uneasy, once again, he delved into the subject of the Rock Star. “Mind if I ask you something?”

  She eyed him warily. “Okay.”

  “What if you could talk to Nick Tyler? What would you want to know?”

  She glanced out at the blue water and frowned. “You mean if I could see him face to face?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d ask him when his fans were going to wise up and realize his music sucks.”

  Reese busted out laughing. “Okay, that would definitely get his attention. But come on, Quinn, there has to be something you’d want to know? As a doctor there must be a medical history y
ou’d be curious about, like his side of the family and all.”

  “Reese, give it a rest, okay? I’m not about to ask the asshole anything. Period. Since I have zero plans to ever hit him up for a kidney, why think like that?”

  Reese sucked in a breath feeling like he was mired in quicksand up to his neck and sinking fast. If he didn’t come up with something soon…he tried a different tack. “Don’t you think he might be able to provide valuable info about your background, stuff you’ve never known before?”

  “Like what? That I came from two people who had the parental instincts that make pythons look warm and fuzzy?”

  She had him there.

  How could he relate to having parents like hers? Truth was, he couldn’t. Instead of pressing the point, for the time being, he gave up. He took her chin in his hand, brought her mouth up. “How about we stop talking and take advantage of our alone time, what’s left of it?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “As long as you think you’ll be okay for the next two hours until we get back to land…”

  She gave him a long, hard look, her eyes moving slowly down his body from head to toe. “I’ll be fine. Is there any way you could park this thing and we take a little siesta? I’d really like to get you out of those clothes.”

  He cocked a brow, perused up and down her lean figure. “By any chance, did you drink alcohol with those pills?”

  “I assure you I took the proper dosage—without wine. I’ve never made love on a boat before and this might be my only chance.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down.

  “That could definitely be arranged. How about I lower the sails?”

  “Hmm, you talk like such an able-bodied seaman—Captain Brennan.” She started pulling him down the steps to the stateroom. “How about some serious naptime with your first mate? Only…we aren’t going to nap.”