by Kris Bock
He made the turn. “We’re heading out towards where I found you.”
“That’s right. I was only a couple of blocks from home.”
He kept his eyes on the road, so she had a chance to watch him as street lights and shadow played across his face. He looked grim. Erin wondered if she was missing something again. Speak up, she told herself. You want to know something, you ask. Right? Right.
She cleared her throat. He passed the grocery store and turned right. She cleared her throat again. He glanced her way. She took a big breath and said in a rush, “Is everything all right?”
He looked away as he made a left turn onto the frontage road. “Sure, why?”
“You just look so serious.” It came out in a whisper. Good grief, she told herself, you stood up to Mitchell. Talking to a man who’s been so nice shouldn’t be hard.
Maybe it wouldn’t be, if he weren’t so handsome that he made her heart flutter every time she looked at him. No, handsome wasn’t even the right word. Mitchell was handsome. Drew was sexy. He had a kind of rugged, essential maleness that made a woman want to forget her morals and strip off her clothes. And that sex appeal was wrapped in a quiet kindness that pulled at the heart. Who could blame her if she made a fool of herself over a man like that?
He said nothing for two blocks. Then, still looking straight out the front windshield, he said, “I just don’t like remembering you hurt.”
She felt that odd melting sensation, like her bones had suddenly gone limp. Good Lord, she could fall for him and fall hard. Camie had said he wouldn’t hurt her. But Camie had been talking about car accidents and break-ins, not her heart.
Erin studied Drew’s profile from the corner of her eye. How did he feel, really? He was taking her home. He’d danced with her, half a dozen songs in a row. That had to mean he liked her, right? He’d made her feel special that evening, but did it mean anything to him? Or was he just doing another kindness to the poor woman he’d pulled out of a ditch?
She stared ahead through the windshield. Maybe he’d kiss her. Then she’d know. Her eyes shifted toward him, though she didn’t move her head. Her heart beat faster at the thought of kissing him, his arms around her again. She almost moaned aloud at the thought. She caught herself and said, “We go about three miles.”
Would it be on the porch? In the car? What if he wanted to come in? What if he expected her to sleep with him tonight?
Her glance this time was suspicious. He turned his head to meet it and his lips curved.
Erin jerked her gaze back to the windshield, her hands clenched in her lap. They drove down the long, quiet road. A train whistle sounded in the distance. In a few blocks, she’d know what he expected. Erin’s heart hammered. How should she act—cheerful and friendly, or should she make a stab at trying to be seductive? The first was safer, but the second might let him know it was all right to kiss her, if she didn’t blow it and make a complete fool of herself.
She frowned at her own thoughts. What was wrong with her? She was giving him all the power. Waiting. Reacting. She wasn’t a silly little schoolgirl—though come to think of it, from what she saw at the college, girls 10 years her junior were perfectly capable of deciding what they wanted and taking it.
She didn’t have to wait for him to make the first move or to decide what the moves were. She could take control. She could go after what she wanted.
Oh God, what did she want?
They were almost home. “Take the next right, under the streetlight.” Her voice sounded husky.
They turned down her street. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel his arms around her again. More than that, she didn’t have to decide right away. But she liked him, and if she didn’t let him know, he might slip away. It wasn’t like he didn’t have choices. She was supposed to be growing stronger, more assertive, not playing games. She liked him. She could let him know that. Right? Right.
They were only half a block from her house. “The white two-story on the left,” she whispered.
He pulled into her driveway and turned off the ignition. Good. He wasn’t simply going to drop her off and drive away. Should she turn to him in the car or wait for the porch? As she hesitated, he opened his door. The porch, then.
What if he expected to come in? What if he expected—oh God. She fumbled for the seatbelt with trembling hands. By the time she’d freed herself, he had her door open. She slid out of the big truck and smiled, glad this back street had no streetlights. Maybe he wouldn’t see her nerves. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He turned and started up the walk beside her.
Should she invite him in? No, she didn’t think she could stand the stress. She’d turn to him on the porch, tell him she had a wonderful evening. She’d stretch up and kiss him—lightly, no expectations, just a friendly invitation. Her mind raced over the plan as her heart pounded. She took a deep breath. She could do this.
She put her foot up on the first porch step. Something moved low in the shadows.
Erin hesitated. Tiger stalked forward into the dim glow of the porch light, yowling complaints.
Erin went cold. She was quite certain she’d left him inside, with all the doors and windows closed.
How had he gotten out of the house?
Chapter 11
Drew crouched and ran a hand over Tiger’s back. “Well hey there, fellow.” Tiger gave a rumbling purr and head-butted Drew’s knee. Drew chuckled and glanced up at Erin. He shot to his feet and grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“He shouldn’t be out,” she whispered. “I left him inside.”
Drew glanced at Tiger and then the house. “A window, maybe?”
“No, everything was closed and locked. Since the break-in—”
His hand tightened on her arm. “What break-in? When?”
“The night I was in the hospital. The police said probably someone found out I was gone, but—” She shook her head. She didn’t have to get into all that. But she remembered the officer’s warning. “They said sometimes burglars come back. I haven’t had any expensive electronics delivered or anything, but what if they came back?”
“Give me your key and go wait in the truck. Lock the doors.”
“No, we can call the police! Let them search.” She was trembling, too panicked even to feel foolish about the waves of anxiety that rolled over her. They had come back. They might have found the book this time. They might still be inside. They might hurt Drew. They might come after her, hurt her again. She didn’t know what scared her most, but she was not going to sit in the truck waiting while Drew went in.
“Erin—” Drew sighed, the sound of a man impatient with a woman’s foolish fears. But he gathered her close and stroked her back. “We can do that if you want. But it will mean waiting a while—maybe hours. How do you think the police will react if you tell them you’re worried because your cat got out?”
“But he couldn’t have! Not unless someone has been here.”
“I know.” His arms tightened around her. “I believe you.”
She let herself lean against him and felt her heart slow. Finally she said, “But the police wouldn’t.” She hadn’t had much contact with the police before. She didn’t know how busy they would be in a town this size or how they prioritized their calls. But on a Friday night they’d have drunk drivers, accidents, fights. A hysterical woman with no evidence of a break-in except a large orange cat probably wouldn’t make the top of their list. And what if they went in and found everything normal? She’d be like the boy who cried wolf and they might not take her seriously when she really needed them.
Drew waited, gently stroking her back. Erin smiled a little. She recognized that a man could easily resent a woman holding him back when he wanted to play the hero. Drew didn’t brush her off or get huffy and storm away because she’d insulted his manhood according to some mysterious man-logic. He was waiting for her to come to terms with the situation. She had to admit he was right about the police. But she didn�
��t want him hurt.
Tiger wove around their ankles, purring. Would he be more anxious if someone were still there? No sound came from the house. Any thief should have heard them drive up, maybe heard their voices. They’d had plenty of time to sneak out the back by now.
Erin took a deep breath and straightened. “All right, we’ll go in. Together.” She wondered if he’d refuse. She met his gaze, determined not to back down. No way was she going to sit in the truck worrying while he searched the house.
His lips parted in a slow smile. He rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “You’re one hell of a woman.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss and turned toward the door.
Erin almost staggered backward off the steps. She pressed a hand to her heart, glad his back was turned, and fished her key out of her pocket.
Erin unlocked the door. Drew held up a hand to keep her back as he opened the door a few inches and listened. Erin let him go through first, to make up for challenging him before. And, if she had to admit it, she much preferred to hang back. She thought she’d been tough enough for one evening.
Drew stepped through the door quickly. He flicked on a light and glanced into the living room and her office before darting back to the kitchen. He returned moments later. “Back door’s locked.” He headed up the stairs.
Erin hesitated. Perhaps she should follow him, be there in case—well, she had no idea what she would do if he actually found someone. Scream and run, probably, and she could do that from downstairs. In fact, the best thing might be to retrieve her phone and have it ready in case she needed to call for help. She’d left her phone on the desk in her office, which was where she really wanted to go anyway.
She grabbed her phone and leaned over her desk to see the bottom corner of the bookshelf. The book lay right where she’d left it. She sighed with relief and hurried out of the office as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
“Upstairs is clear. Nice bedroom, by the way.” He studied her. “You look happy now.”
Erin tried to pull her smile down a notch. “Relief, I guess. No one’s here, nothing’s been trashed or taken. That makes it a good night by recent standards.”
Drew kept studying her. “There is a window open in the living room.”
“What!” Erin rushed into the living room. The side window was open a foot. The screen had been popped out at one corner. She shook her head. “I checked all these windows before I left. And I never open it halfway like that. An inch to help ventilation if the swamp cooler is on or all the way if it’s nice out and I want the breeze.” She couldn’t look at Drew. She knew she was right, but she still felt like a fool.
He walked to the window and poked at the loose corner of the screen. “I doubt that big cat could have gotten out this way without doing more damage, at least popping out the other corner of the screen.” He grabbed a lamp from a nearby end table, switched it on, and held it close to the window. “No orange hairs on the screen or the outside of the window sill. One on the inside of the sill, but that’s the least to be expected with a cat like that in the house.”
“He prefers to sit in the front window to watch the world go by. And he’s only been here for a couple of days. He’s Camie’s cat.”
“Oh?” Drew turned and looked down at Tiger, who gave a curious meow. “You’re cat sitting?”
“Camie left him for my protection. She says he’s a guard cat.”
“Is that right?” Drew bent down and scooped Tiger into his arms. He leaned the big cat against his shoulder and scratched behind his ears. “Yep, pretty ferocious, aren’t you?”
“Hey, you’d be surprised.” She decided not to explain about the earlier attack. What kind of woman suffered two break-ins and two violent attacks in less than a week? She wasn’t sure what impression it gave, but it definitely wasn’t one that fit her normal life. “There could be a crook fleeing right now with scratch marks all over him.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for some guy with shredded skin.” Drew headed into the kitchen. Erin followed and stood in the doorway as Drew deposited the cat near his food dish and opened the back door. He crouched and examined the lock for maybe 15 seconds. “Yep, it’s official. I know absolutely nothing about lock picking.”
Erin laughed. “You fooled me for a minute there.”
“I read a lot of mystery novels. I see scratches around the lock, but damned if I can tell how long they’ve been there or if they mean anything.” He closed the door and locked it. “It’s possible someone broke in and let the cat out by accident.”
Or on purpose, Erin thought, if that person happened to know just how violent Tiger could be.
“He might have opened the window and popped the screen to try to fool you into thinking the cat had gotten out on his own,” Drew added. “Maybe he panicked after letting Tiger out and took off, or maybe we came home just in time and scared him away. You might want to make a thorough search to be sure nothing was stolen. But unless you find something missing, I’d say you don’t have anything worth reporting to the police.”
“Yeah, you’re right. And you were right earlier too, so thanks. I’m glad we did it this way.” He was much more sensible than the police had been. All right, the main difference was, he’d believed her completely. She didn’t know if that was sensible, but it was comforting. She didn’t feel scared anymore. She felt safer than she’d felt in days.
For a long moment they gazed at each other across the kitchen. Erin felt a warmth in her belly. The slow, steady beat of her heart seemed to echo in her ears.
“Erin,” Drew said softly, “I wish you would tell me what’s going on.”
She swallowed hard and tried to keep her gaze steady on his. “What do you mean?”
“Average, innocent women do not have their house broken into, probably twice, after being thrown into a ditch by a mysterious hit and run driver. Do you have enemies?”
“No....” Did Mitchell count? A week ago he’d practically been her boyfriend. She didn’t know how to explain everything, or if she should. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt me. It seems unbelievable.” That much was true.
Drew leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “What about the treasure?”
Erin’s heart lurched. She’d never told him about the treasure. Was he one of them after all? She stumbled back on legs that threatened to collapse.
“Erin!” He crossed the kitchen at lightning speed and grabbed her in the entryway. Erin tried to twist out of his grip and opened her mouth to scream. He let go and stepped back, his hands raised in surrender. “Okay, okay, don’t panic. I’m sorry I scared you. Just hang on a minute and let’s talk.”
Tiger stalked in from the kitchen. He planted himself at Erin’s feet and stared at Drew, his tail lashing. She felt oddly safer and took a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the wall until the trembling eased. “How did you find out about the treasure?”
“I overheard you and Mitchell talking.” When she just stared at him, he had the grace to look embarrassed. “Tonight at the bar, I was at the next table, listening in. I wanted to find out what he wanted.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug and looked away. “And at the hospital. I was listening outside the door.”
Erin took a deep breath and tried to straighten, but she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her if she pushed away from the wall. “So you’ve been spying.”
He winced. “Not exactly—yeah, okay. I wasn’t thinking of it like that, but I guess I was. It was rude, and I apologize.”
She stared, trying to figure him out. All she could think was Why? What possible reason could he have had, as early as that first meeting in the hospital? Or did he just spy as a matter of habit? Was he some kind of con artist, looking for weaknesses he could use? “Was that your interest in me all along? The treasure?”
“No!” He took a step toward her, but she held up her hand and he stopped. “I was just curious,” he said. “I already had a weird feeling about the whole situation because
of seeing that guy come out of the ditch and drive away after your accident. When Mitchell came to the hospital and brushed off my story, I got suspicious.”
Erin considered. He’d been right, the first person to suspect the accident was more than an accident or to feel suspicious of Mitchell. Such insights didn’t make her entirely comfortable. What else had he seen, or suspected under the surface? Did he read her as easily? She pushed the thought away and tried to concentrate on putting together all the pieces. “Do you think Mitchell was the man at the ditch?”
“No,” he said with regret in his voice. “That man was shorter and stockier, with dark hair.”
Erin felt a cold tickle down her spine. The description could fit the man who’d attacked her that morning. “All right. And at the bar tonight?”
Drew shrugged. “Same kind of thing. I wanted to know what Mitchell wanted, why he was so eager to get rid of me. If you’d been happy to see him, I would have left you alone. But you weren’t, were you?”
She shook her head. She could hardly fault him for interfering there, when she’d been so grateful for it at the time.
He gave her a tentative smile. “You were great, by the way.”
Her lips twitched but she forced them straight again. She took another deep breath, feeling steadier, and decided she trusted herself to move. She pushed away from the wall and turned toward the kitchen. “I want some tea.” She tensed as she passed within arm’s reach, but he didn’t move until she was past. Then he followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“You haven’t kicked me out yet,” he said. “I’m considering that a good sign.” Tiger yowled and jumped up into his lap. “And the cat likes me. I’m sure this guy is a very good judge of character.”
Erin turned to the cupboard to hide her smile and got out a box of tea. “I’ll take his opinion under consideration. For now, you’re on probation.”
