A Deadly Love (12 page)

She frowned. “I left my purse in your truck.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

Brooke picked up the umbrella she’d dropped on the front porch, unfurled it, and followed him out to the driveway. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

He turned with the purse in his hand. Rain dripped off the hood of his slicker and trickled down his neck in an icy cold stream. Her brows lowered, and her blue eyes snapped. The weight in his chest grew. “Of course not. I’m a little stressed this morning.”

Her tone was sharp. “Go to your meeting. I’ll take care of Zack.”

He handed her the purse and reached up to cup her chin. “I’m sorry, Brooke. I have too much on my mind to be good at the morning after thing.” Touching her smooth skin sent a jolt straight to his groin. He let his hand drop. “Thanks for watching my son.”

She took a step back, clutching the purse to her chest. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you later.”

Dillon slammed the truck door and started the engine. With a little wave, he backed out of the driveway. He’d hurt her feelings, and he hadn’t meant to. Frowning, he switched the wiper blades to a faster speed. Making love with Brooke had been a mistake. He felt her expectations hanging over him, vying for his attention. He’d known it would happen, yet he hadn’t been able to resist. Just remembering the way her supple body moved beneath his, the way her legs wrapped around his waist, was giving him a boner. He rolled down the window, welcoming the cold raindrops against his face.

In the past he’d kept his personal life separate from his commitment to his family, but with Brooke the two blended around the edges. Thoughts of her crept in to distract him at home and at work. The way she chipped away at his willpower was unnerving and uncomfortable. His jaw clenched. Resisting her would be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t want her so damned much.

****

“I can’t believe you beat me again.”

“No offense, Brooke, but you’re really bad at Chutes and Ladders.”

“None taken.” She smiled and reached out to clasp Zack’s hands between her palms. “You have to stop scratching. The chickenpox will get infected if you don’t leave them alone.”

He screwed up his face and hunched his shoulder to rub underneath his chin. “But they itch!”

“I know they do. We’ll put some baking soda on them. That should help.”

She pulled him up from the rug, and he followed her into the kitchen. June looked up from her crossword puzzle and smiled. “Did you finish your game?”

“I won again,” Zack said.

“Congratulations.” She pushed her reading glasses up her nose. “What’s a six letter word for ambivalent?”

Brooke fisted her hands on her hips and stared into the pantry. “Dillon.”

Her grandmother made a strangled noise in her throat and began to cough. It was some time before she regained control. “I’m afraid the word I need starts with an F.”

Brooke glanced over her shoulder and let her lips curve slightly. “I can think of several that qualify, but the one you want is probably fickle.”

“That fits.” June filled in the squares. “What are you looking for, honey?”

Brooke turned back to the pantry. “Baking soda.”

“It’s on the third shelf behind the flour.”

Taking down the box, she dumped some into a bowl and added a little water, stirring it into a paste. “Take off your shirt, Zack.”

He stood in front of her, his rash bright and angry on the pale skin of his chest. She covered it with the soda and turned him to reach the spots on his back. “There, that should help.”

He pulled his shirt over his head. “It feels a little better. Can I go play with Otis?”

The dog looked up from his prone position beneath the kitchen table and groaned before flopping back down on the linoleum. Brooke glanced out the window. Rain came down in sheets.

“It’s a little too wet to play outside.”

“I could throw a ball for him in the hall. I promise to be careful.”

His golden eyes looked exactly like his father’s, except she’d never seen Dillon plead for a favor. He hadn’t needed to. Her teeth clenched. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.”

June glanced up from her puzzle. “Let him do it, Brooke. There isn’t anything in the hall for him to break, and it’ll take his mind off the itching.”

She summoned a smile. “I think Otis’s ball is in the front parlor.”

Zack ran off with the dog at his heels, and she dropped onto a chair across from her grandmother. “He’s miserable.”

“Having chickenpox isn’t fun. I remember how uncomfortable it was, and it’s been seventy years.” She filled in another row of boxes in the puzzle. “He’ll get over it.” She looked up, her blue eyes bright with curiosity. “What’s your excuse for being so glum?”

Brooke picked at a spot on the tabletop. “Men. I knew it was a mistake to get involved again, but I just couldn’t stop myself.”

June covered Brooke’s hand with her own. Her grandmother’s skin was paper thin and freckled with age spots.

“What happened between you and Dillon?”

“I don’t know. Last night was—great. But this morning he acted like my mere presence was an inconvenience even though I was offering to help him with Zack.” She clenched her fist, and her fingernails dug into her palm. “Truthfully, I felt like smacking him.”

“Dillon is a proud man. He likes to think he can manage everything on his own, and he gets testy when he has to ask for help.”

“You help him out with Zack all the time. Anyway, he didn’t ask. I offered.”

“It’s different with me. Though I wasn’t thrilled with the idea at first, he pays me to watch Zack. And I’ll admit having the extra money these last few months has been a Godsend. With you, his feelings are more personal.”

She grimaced. “I really would slug him if he offered me cash. At least he didn’t make that mistake.”

Her grandmother’s eyes glimmered with amusement behind the lenses of her glasses. “The man has some common sense.”

“Not much, but some.” Brooke stood. “It’s time for lunch. What do you feel like having?”

June stared out the window at the pouring rain. “I think it’s a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup sort of day.”

Smiling, Brooke went to make their lunch.

****

Two hours later Brooke stomped through the forest and swore loudly when a tree branch unloaded a shower of water droplets onto her head. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, feeling her blood pressure dropping. Unclenching her fists, she stared into Otis’s quizzical eyes and smiled ruefully. “Sorry about that, boy. You must think I’m a raving lunatic.”

The dog whined and licked her hand.

“Maybe I am being less than rational, but Dillon makes me want to scream.”

The dog barked once, turned, and trotted up the trail. She followed, shoving her hands in her pockets. The rain had subsided, but the air was still damp and chilly. She breathed in the scent of wet earth and told herself she wasn’t the biggest idiot on the planet for falling a little in love with Dillon. Clearly she’d been even more deluded when it came to judging Gavin’s sexual preferences. It was painfully obvious she was a complete failure at interpreting what men wanted.

Maybe not a complete failure. She knew exactly what Dillon wanted—sex, pure and simple, without any emotional strings attached. And if the hunted look on his face when he picked up Zack was any indication, he was afraid she expected a whole lot more. Brooke kicked a fir cone, sending it sailing into a clump of ferns. Up ahead a squirrel ran across the trail, and Otis crashed through a huckleberry bush, giving chase.

Maybe Dillon was right. Maybe she was kidding herself, thinking she didn’t want to get involved. If all she needed was a fling to help recover from her broken engagement, she could have chosen a man less likely to give her a new case of heartache. She could have picked someone she wasn’t going to fall for.

“I really am an idiot.”

“Who’s there?”

Brooke jumped, whirling around to face Jesse’s shotgun. She pressed her hand to her pounding heart. “You scared me to death.”

He lowered the gun. “Sorry, Brooke. I didn’t recognize you from behind.”

“What are you doing out here with your gun?”

He scratched his chin through his beard. “I heard someone making a ruckus and came to check it out.”

“You probably heard Otis.”

“Could be, but after last night, I wanted to make certain.”

She touched the sleeve of his old canvas jacket. “What happened last night?”

Jesse lowered his gaze and kicked at a clump of moss in the path. “I don’t know if I should talk about it. People already think I’m crazy for living out here the way I do. If word got out, they’d lock me up in one of those homes for senile old people.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, maybe you should talk to Dillon. He’s worried about you.”

“I know he is, and I don’t want to burden him further. He has enough to think about with Zack and those spots he’s come down with.”

She frowned. “Chickenpox isn’t that big a deal. If you saw something important, you need to tell someone about it. There are women missing, Jesse.”

“I know. I know.” He took a deep breath. “Zack was restless last night, so I got up to get him a drink of water. When I was standing at the sink, I heard a scream.” His eyes flashed. “It wasn’t a damned rabbit, either. I gave Zack the water and went out into the yard to listen. After a long while I heard the sound again, closer this time, a high pitched keening. I tell you the hair rose on the back of my neck. Then I saw flashes of white in the forest, like a ghost sliding through the trees.”

Brooke shuddered and looked over her shoulder. Rain dripped off the trees, and the ferns shook as Otis trotted through the underbrush to her side. She buried her hands in his warm fur. “What did you do?”

“I called out, but no one answered. I couldn’t leave Zack alone in the cabin, so I stood there for maybe another fifteen minutes. I didn’t hear or see anything else, and finally I went back to bed.”

“Jesse, you really should talk to Harley. If one of the missing women was out in the woods last night, the police have to search for her.”

“We looked before and didn’t find anything. I hunted around this morning after I dropped off Zack, and all I saw were a few broken branches. The worst of the disturbance was maybe a quarter-mile from the cabin.”

“Ghosts don’t break branches. Will you come into town with me and tell Harley what you heard?”

His brows lowered. “Can’t you tell him?”

“He’ll want to hear it from you.” She smiled encouragingly. “I’ll back you up. I heard a scream one night, too. I know you aren’t imagining things.”

“I suppose I could go, if you don’t mind coming with me. I’d better put away my gun first. Harley wouldn’t be happy if I brought it into town.”

Brooke tucked her hand through his arm, and they headed up the trail toward his cabin. “Crazy like a fox, that’s what you are,” she said. He chuckled, and she squeezed his arm. “Do you want to stop at the house and fill Dillon in on the details? He’s home with Zack.”

“I don’t see any reason to bother him about it, not if you’ll drive me to the sheriff’s office.”

“I’d be happy to.”

Jesse left his shotgun in the cabin, and they hurried back down the trail. Before they reached the house, the rain began again in earnest.

She dashed up onto the front porch and pushed back her dripping hood. “I’ll go get the car keys. Would you like to come inside?”

“There’s no point in me getting June’s floor wet. I’ll wait out here.”

Brooke stared at her dog. Rivulets of water ran off his fur and formed a puddle on the porch. “With Otis around, we don’t worry too much about the floors. I’ll be right back.”

She pulled off her muddy boots and padded across the entry toward the kitchen. “Grandma, I’m going to run into town,” she called.

June’s voice floated down the stairs. “Do you mind picking up a gallon of milk at the market? Zack drank the last of it at lunch.”

“No problem.” She pulled the car keys off the hook by the kitchen door and slipped on a pair of loafers. “I should be home before dinner time.”

“That’s fine, dear.”

Taking an oversized towel from the stack in the laundry room, Brooke went back to the front porch. After a five minute battle with Otis, she dropped the sopping towel in a heap by the door and let the marginally drier dog into the house.

Jesse grinned. “That mutt’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“He’s a pain, but I love him. Ready?”

He nodded, and they ran around the side of the house to the Volkswagen bus parked in the driveway. Rain drummed on the roof while she cranked the engine. Finally it caught.

“You’re a good girl, Brooke, coming to stay with your grandma. June’s been lonely since Eli passed. I talk to her out in the woods every now and then.”

She glanced over at Jesse. He stared straight ahead through the windshield, apparently intent on watching the wipers slap away the rain. “What about you? Seems to me you’d want to live with Dillon and Zack.”

“I like my cabin. I was never as sociable as June.” He turned to stare at her, his brows beetling across his forehead. “You’re not going to nag me about it, are you?”

“Heaven forbid I should push a Tremayne man into making a decision.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Nothing. I’m a little irritated with Dillon at the moment. I promise I won’t nag you.” She pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office and killed the engine. “Let’s go talk to Harley.”

The dispatch officer sent them through the outer office to the sheriff’s inner sanctum. Harley looked up from the papers strewn across his desk, his gaze shifting from Brooke to Jesse and back. “Have a seat.” He gestured toward a pair of battered chairs upholstered in tan vinyl. “What can I do for you?”

When Jesse remained silent, she nudged his arm. He let out a huff of breath and rubbed his gnarled hands over the knees of his overalls. “I heard a woman in the woods last night, and I saw something white through the trees.”

Harley set down his coffee mug with a thud. “Hell, Jesse, you couldn’t have told me sooner? It’s dark out now. I can’t set up any kind of decent search until morning.”