Darci reached for the pile of mail and held it out to Becka. “You really do need to make that call to the post office. Destinies received some of our mail again.”
Becka rolled her eyes and said, “All right…all right. I’ll go call them now.” Without even speaking to Bryce, she turned around and moved back through the curtain.
“Well, isn’t she in a good mood,” Bryce smirked.
Flashing him a brittle smile, Darci said, “Hmm. Thanks for the mail. You can go now.” Dismissing him, she looked back at Brittney and said, “So has there been anything new?”
Britt made a noncommittal response, not wanting to talk in front of Bryce, Darci guessed.
The silence stretched out for a moment while Bryce’s eyes lingered on her. Then he murmured, “Be seeing you around, sweet thing.”
As the door closed behind him, she whispered, “I certainly hope not.”
“That guy is such a jerk,” Britt muttered as she came around the corner. “How many times has that place gotten your mail?”
“Three that I know.” Lifting her shoulder in a shrug, she said, “Probably nothing to it.”
“Complained?”
“Becka has to,” Darci said. “I tried. They took the information down, but since I’m not the owner, they aren’t going to take me too seriously. Becka needs to talk to them, and I’ve reminded her. A number of times. Today was probably the tenth. Dunno if she’s listening to me.”
“Hmmm…” Britt said, that noncommittal sound that could say everything and nothing. Then she waggled her eyebrows at Darci, her voice teasing as she said, “Soooo…are you aware of the fact that the Sheriff can’t keep his eyes off of you?”
Darci’s hands stilled and she froze. Studying Britt through the veil of her lashes, she asked, “What?”
Britt smiled a cool little cat’s smile. “He’s got the hots for you. I can tell. And you watch him like he’s a hot fudge sundae and you’ve been on a six-month carb diet.” Fluttering her lashes, Britt said, “Too bad you’re a suspect.”
“You bitch,” Darci said, groaning and falling back against the wall behind her. That was so not what she needed to hear-not when she had been fantasizing about the sexy sheriff for years, ever since she’d moved to Vevey.
Britt laughed. “Well, it’s not like it’s a forever thing. And if it was such a serious thing, you could have done something about it before now. And maybe you’re not really a suspect. Maybe he’s already found the person,” she offered, trying to be helpful. “Maybe he’s arresting him even now. Then you two can celebrate with dinner and an all-night fuck fest.”
With a narrow glance, Darci muttered, “You are messed up.”
With a snicker, Britt said, “Well, maybe you should go see a movie first.”
They both jumped when Becka hollered out from the back, “Forget the movie. Just get laid.”
Britt and Darci looked at each other and started to giggle.
Bryce Bishop had his eyes on that little bitch. Staring down her nose at people, twitching that tight little ass of hers and then expecting people not to comment. Hell, she was sharing it with half the men in town-he’d be damned if he was going to miss out.
He sauntered into his house and came up short when he caught sight of a familiar head bent over the newspaper spread out on his table. The house had been picked up, too. And unless he was mistaken, there were cookies in the oven.
“What in the hell are you doing?” he snapped, kicking his shoes off and tossing his wallet down.
“Just wanted to see you.”
“Yeah, well, have you forgotten? I kicked your ass out a long time ago,” he reminded her.
Her eyes filled with tears and she sighed, shakily saying, “Okay, I’ll go.”
She was on her way out when he caught her hand. “Hey, why don’t you hang around a few minutes?” he asked, as he reached for the zipper of his fly, pushing down on her shoulder and smiling as her mouth closed around him.
He started to pump his cock in and out of her mouth, shuddering as her fingers cupped his sac. “You always did know how to suck cock, sweet little bitch,” he muttered. “I’ve missed that.”
She wasn’t there in bed wrapped around him like a lamprey when he got up late that night. That was pretty odd. She usually clung, hanging on him like a little puppy. Hell, even her eyes were puppy-dog eyes, watching him soulfully.
He sat up in bed and reached for the pint in the bedside table, swigging down a few drinks, waiting until he felt the familiar buzz before he took a few more. Once he was in that warm, pleasant haze, he sighed, took another sip and sat up.
The room danced dizzily around him and he grinned. Should have gotten drunk before he fucked her earlier. Would have helped a little.
Climbing out of bed, Bryce scratched his chest as he left his room. Bright light flashed in his eyes and he flung his arm up, squinting through the glare to see her standing by the front door, wearing his shirt, staring at him. Whiskey splashed on his arm and chest from the bottle he had thoughtlessly tipped sideways as he blocked the light.
“You called me Darci,” she said, her voice husky.
Bryce scowled. “So what? It’s not like I’m taking you back,” he muttered, raking his hand through his tumbled hair. “You’re a good fuck, but you’re too damned clingy.”
She swallowed, a sound so loud he heard it from several feet away. “Well, I’m sorry I’m so clingy,” she whispered. “I’ve gotten a lot better. But I guess it isn’t good enough.”
He flopped onto the couch, lifted the remote, and stared at the tube as he took a swig from the bottle. Tuning her out, he settled on the porno channel, his hand closing over his semi-rigid cock. Behind him, he heard her moving around and he just wanted her out of there. Maybe he’d dig out a few of the pills he’d hidden away and…
“Bryce,” she whispered as she leaned over him.
“Wha-” Something cold, icy…then a hot liquid spill. He saw red fountaining out from him… What was…
Behind him, she watched as Bryce’s head slumped, blood pumping from him with thick, liquid gushes of crimson red. His hands lifted, trying to close over the gash in his throat. She laid the knife down on the table behind the sofa before she walked away. In the bedroom, she knelt down and reached for the case under the bed. Pulling it out, she studied the labeled tapes closely. She’d watched them, unwillingly, a hundred times. She took the two that were stacked haphazardly on the top. One she needed. The other, she hadn’t seen before. Better make sure he hadn’t been running the video camera some night when she hadn’t realized it.
Then she carefully wiped the box clean and pushed it back under the bed, grabbing her purse and tucking the tapes inside it before returning to the living room. She eyed the knife for a long moment before she picked it up, staring over the edge of the couch at Bryce’s still body.
“Later…bitch,” she whispered as she wiped her fingerprints off the knife before tossing it down. She’d already wiped the room down and with quick, economical motions, she shed his shirt and got dressed. Dropping the shirt by the door before she slid through, she tucked her head low as she headed down the alley behind his house.
Chapter Four
Darci’s heart stopped.
Somebody was outside her house. She had lifted her lashes, just barely, and stared at the window, trying to wake up.
It was unnaturally silent outside and her mouth went dry with fear.
The moon shone silver, reflecting off something white-something that didn’t belong there.
A face.
But before Darci could take a closer look, the person was gone.
She jerked upright in bed, her heart slamming in her chest, breath rushing out of her shakily. “Damn it…”
The house was quiet-too quiet. Darci couldn’t tolerate that sort of silence. Slowly, she swung her legs around and put her feet on the cool wooden floor. The chill in the air raced up her back, tightening her nipples, her skin roughened with goose b
umps. Her heart slammed against her chest as she walked across her darkened room and reached for the light switch. Nothing.
Her breath started to wheeze in her chest as she rushed out to the hall and tried the light switch there. Nothing. With her back pressed flat against the wall, she walked along it back into her room, closing the door silently behind her. Licking her lips, she reached for the phone by her bedside, suppressing a sob as it came up dead.
Nothing. Damn caller ID-why in the hell had she ever replaced her regular land line with a portable? Because she liked knowing who was on the other line, liked being able to carry the phone with her to the basement as she developed her negatives.
My cameras-
Get a grip, there’s probably somebody in the house. Call the damned police , her common sense demanded before she could fly out of the room to run and check on her equipment.
Okay. Cell phone. Where is the damned cell phone…purse ! The purse was lying on the chaise lounge under the window where she had thrown it as she slid out of her shoes. With shaking fingers, she turned it on, and then she stifled a cry as she couldn’t remember the number she wanted to call. Swallowing, she pushed the buttons 9-1-1 and hit send, sinking down into a darkened corner and waiting, staring at the door with unblinking eyes.
As the call came through, Kellan was just waking up from a sweet, hot dream…and the call was like a splash of icy water, clearing his head and tightening his gut with fear.
Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his jeans and shoved them on, stepping into an untied pair of work boots on his way out of his room. The T-shirt he had tossed aside the night before was still hanging on the doorknob to the laundry room and he grabbed it with one hand as his other hand scooped up his weapon, which he had left hanging on the back of the barstool at the breakfast bar.
Under his breath, prayers he didn’t even realize he still remembered were being spoken. Damn it. Not her. Don’t let me find her…
As he sped down the highway toward her house on the river, he cut off that train of thought. In his rearview mirror, a pair of headlights appeared, and sirens flashed on top of the patrol car. He heard their distant wail. One of his deputies. God, please let somebody already be there…don’t let her-
Snarling, Kellan slammed his fist on the leather seat, rasping out, “Stop it!”
The sirens behind him went silent just as they turned onto her road. He slammed on his brakes in front of her house and jumped out, running up to the house as he drew his gun, swearing and praying from one breath to another. The front door was unlocked. Gritting his teeth, he pushed it open, some subtle tension inside him relaxing as he breathed in the soft, vanilla-scented air, like potpourri-or candles.
And paint?
But there was a distinct smell that simply wasn’t there… Thank You, God.
“This is Sheriff Kellan Grant…”
Darci heard his voice and sobbed in relief, rising from the floor and stumbling out into the hallway. She swallowed a scream as she came against a hard, hot body. Big hands came up to cup her arms as she slammed her foot down on his, hearing a muffled grunt, followed by…
“Damn it, Darci, why in the hell do you need the police? You’re dangerous.”
“Kellan!”
“Is there anybody still here?” he asked, moving up against the wall and pulling her with him.
“The lights are out,” she whispered, stuttering, her body starting to tremble. “I woke up…saw somebody…”
“Okay…okay. Take a deep breath. Calm down, listen to me. We have to check out the house. I want you to go back in your room and stay there,” he said, his voice changing to a firm, no-nonsense tone as he guided her back into her room. The broad band of light from his flashlight moved over the room and he checked the entire area out before he urged her down on a chair, snagging the blanket from her bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. “Stay here, sweetie. Okay?”
And then he was gone. She muffled the sob that rose in her throat as the door clicked shut, then the doorknob shifted a little as he checked the lock.
She couldn’t take her eyes off that door. The brass glinted ever so slightly in the dim light of the room and she stared at it, fascinated.
If it moved…was the person still here? What if he killed Kellan? What if he was waiting…a frustrated, frightened sound escaped and she pressed her hands to her eyes. “Damn it, stop! He’s a fucking cop, he knows what he is doing.”
But an odd little whisper in her head kept repeating, So does the killer…
Darci jumped as the lights flashed back on. A few minutes later, outside her door, Kellan said, “Darci, it’s me.” She watched as the doorknob started to turn. “Unlock the door.”
Swallowing, she forced herself to stand up and walk over to the door. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she turned the little latch, unlocking it and stepping back from the door.
As he came inside, she rubbed her arms, violently cold.
“Somebody tripped the power in the garage, and came in through the front door,” he said, lowering himself to sit on her bed, his eyes watchful. “No signs of forced entry. But we can see signs that somebody stood outside your window, where you said you saw someone as you woke up. A few other things… And the perp left a note.”
Darci read the script through the clear plastic he had tucked the note inside. Her heart tripped as the words started to make sense.
Don’t worry, Darci.
I’m not coming after you-even though he gave me a good reason to kill you tonight.
“You have any idea what that means? Who he is?” Kellan asked, once she had dragged her eyes away from the note and looked back at him.
“No,” she whispered, her throat tightening, vising down until swallowing was nearly impossible. She stared at the note again, until her eyes ached from the strain.
“Kellan,” she murmured, her heart slamming painfully against her ribs. “What is going on?”
Tears started to burn their way down her face and she lifted a hand to wipe them away. “Damn it, look at me, I’m shaking so badly,” she muttered, dashing the tears away. “Crying…and nothing even happened.”
“That’s bullshit,” Kellan said, reaching out and taking her hand, rubbing it between his hands. “You could have been hurt tonight. Worse. We’ve got a maniac on our hands, and most likely he was the one in your house.”
“She…” Darci murmured, remembering the writing.
“What?”
She jumped, startled at how close his voice sounded. Turning her head, she looked into his eyes, only inches away from her face. Sweet heaven, those eyes… Licking her lips, she concentrated and said, “She. The handwriting looks kind of feminine to me. Although I’ve seen men who do write prettier than women. And vice versa. But it’s not just the handwriting. It’s the note itself. A man isn’t very likely to want to kill a woman because of something another man did.”
“Unless he thinks you’ve been doing something with that man that you shouldn’t,” Kellan said, but a brow rose and he smiled in approval. “So…you sure there aren’t any jealous boyfriends?”
Her heart slammed against her chest as his eyes dropped to her mouth. Running her tongue over her lips, she whispered, huskily, “No. No boyfriends.”
He muttered something under his breath and then he reached out, cupping his hand over the back of her neck and drawing her close. Darci went, hypnotized by the look in his eyes. His head started to lower and she could feel his breath on her lips as he whispered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
As his mouth slanted across hers, Darci gasped, reaching up and curving her fingers into his neck, feeling her nipples tighten as he pushed his tongue deep inside her mouth, one hand coming up to cradle her face.
A moan caught in her throat.
Seconds later, he had pulled away, his eyes dark, turbulent. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, reaching up and rubbing his thumb across her full, damp lower lip.
“I kinda wis
h you’d done that long before now,” she said quietly, leaning down and pressing her lips to his, this time sliding her tongue into his mouth, seeking out that sharp, unique taste of man. She closed her eyes in appreciation as she slid off the lounge to kneel in front of him.
One heavily muscled forearm wrapped around her waist, bringing her flush against his body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples drawn into tight, hard little buds that seemed to ache and throb for his touch. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she dipped her fingers into his hair, delighted to find it hanging loose and free, nearly to his shoulders. Thick, silky, it twined around her fingers, just like she had thought it would.
He tipped her face up, slowly drawing back and moving his lips along the line of her jaw, her ear, and her neck. “Damn it, you smell so good,” he whispered gruffly, and his low, heated voice sent shivers down her spine. “Taste so sweet… I’ve driven myself crazy wondering.”
Against her belly, she felt the long, rigid length of his cock and she whimpered as one big hand cupped her butt, holding her still as he pumped his hips against her, his cock cuddling into the softness of her abdomen. “Maybe you shouldn’t have just wondered,” she teased, pulling her head back slightly, staring into his eyes.
He chuckled. “Darci, babe, you’re a bit more than I know how to handle,” he mused, staring into her eyes.
Footsteps sounded out in the hall and her body cried out in disappointment as he pulled away, easily lifting her to the lounge before he settled back on the bed, linking his hands between his knees, staring at her with brooding, unreadable eyes. The door opened just as he lifted the note from the floor, studying it through the plastic cover. “A woman,” he said quietly, his eyes thoughtful.
Darci pulled a robe on over the thin, white chemise before following them out into her home. “You sleep pretty soundly, Darci,” Kellan murmured, sighing as he studied the walls and the ugly red paint that smeared them.
“The paint is still tacky. She must have done it right before she went outside. I wonder what she was doing,” Kellan muttered, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. It floated loosely through his fingers and he absently told himself he needed to get it cut.
Telling Tales Page 6
