Dangerous Lover (17 page)

He closed his eyes fast and hard. What the hell had he done to this beautiful young woman's life? Sighing, he wolfed down a few bites, gulped the coffee.

“Don't rush, Cory. What's going to happen is going to happen.”

It was almost as if she didn't particularly care what happened. He latched onto the first thing he could think of to snap her out of it. “Whatever is going to happen, can go ahead and happen—but not until after we've warned your friend in Texas.”

Her head came up, her eyes holding a bit more life than before. “You're right. Gotta keep our priorities straight here.” She took a big drink of her tea, and got to her feet. Her waffle was barely touched. “Let's go.”

 

Caleb sat beside Marcy as the police—the State Police, who had taken over the investigation—questioned her. He could have wished for a more conservatively dressed client, but she refused to “conform to the authorities' notion of what looks respectable.” Her words, verbatim. She wore a black leather mini-skirt with pointy-toed, ankle-high boots and black stockings. Her camouflage-print tank top showed off the Nile Goddess tattooed on her arm. Every piercing on her body sported a jewel, from the dozen or so in each ear, to the one in her nose, to the one in her belly button. She wore so many necklaces and bracelets that she jangled every time she moved, and her jet-black hair matched her eyeliner and nail polish.

“I told you, I have no idea where Selene might be going. And it's ridiculous what you're thinking. She had nothing to do with Tessa's death. She loved Tessa.”

“She left town on the night of the murder. She called from Texas, so we assume she's heading for the border. You were with her just a few hours prior to that murder, Marcy,” the detective said. “Look, you don't want to be charged as an accessory in a double homicide, do you? Just cooperate.”

“I think my client has answered all your questions,” Caleb said. He was nervous. This was a State Police detective in charge of the case now. He was no longer dealing with a handful of good ol' local boys, who knew and loved the Brands. This guy wouldn't give Selene the benefit of the doubt, or a crumb of a break. “Marcy came forward of her own free will, and has been more than cooperative. You and I both know she's no accessory. And threatening her isn't going to give her knowledge she doesn't already have. So either arrest her, or we're out of here.”

The detective eyed him, lowered his head, shook it. “You shouldn't have this guy representing you, Marcy. You know the chief suspect is his sister-in-law. Any advice he gives you is liable to be more for her sake than your own.”

“I think that's slander, Detective. And being a lawyer, I would know.”

“It has to be a lie to be slander.”

“And it is.” He reached for Marcy's hand.

She took it and rose to her feet, turned for the door, but paused and turned back to the detective, jewelry clinking and clanging like church bells. “Caleb is an honest man, and the best attorney for miles around. I trust him. And I trust Selene.”

“You just be sure you don't trust them all the way to a jail cell, Marcy. Even if you end up cleared in the end, it wouldn't look good for you in that custody battle you have coming up.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, lifted her dagger-tipped hand, forefinger and pinky extended, the others folded down. “You son of a—”

“Easy, Marcy.” Caleb covered her hand with his, pushing it down before she could fling whatever she'd been about to fling at the detective. A curse, he suspected. And hell, he didn't need that on the video of this interview.

She shot him a look, then glared at the cop. “Don't you ever threaten me again, Detective. Just…don't.”

He stood there with his brows raised and one hand hovering near his gun, as if he'd felt the full impact of the shot she'd just been about to fire.

Caleb didn't know what he thought about all this Witchcraft stuff. But there had always been something very real and very special about Selene. And he was seeing now, that the same applied to her friend, Marcy, but in a different way. And he had to admit to a certain curiosity about it all.

He banked that for the moment, though, and took Marcy back out to the car. They got in. He drove. And he said, “You know, he has a point about Selene being my sister-in-law.”

“Would you sell me out to save her?”

“Of course not, but—”

“Wouldn't matter,” she said. “If there was a way I could get her out of this, I would.”

He sighed, nodded. “I'm worried about her. We all are. She's not safe out there alone, especially not with this guy. She doesn't even know him.”

Marcy smiled a little. “Yeah, she does.”

He sent her a questioning look.

“Not the way you're thinking. It's just…well, hell, Caleb, you might as well know the truth. I'm pretty sure this stranger of hers is going to be your next brother-in-law. Probably better get used to the idea.”

He lifted his brows. “I think you'd better expand on that. Are you telling me she's been seeing this guy—that she knew him before—”

“She never set eyes on him before that night. But she thinks he's her destiny, and I agree with her. You know she's never wrong about shit like this. And you don't have to worry. If Selene thinks he's all right, then he is.”

He sighed, more worried about his kid sister-in-law than he had been already. “He was being chased by killers, Marcy. That doesn't exactly suggest he's some kind of stellar citizen.”

“Oh, come on. He could be a cop for all you know.”

It
had
occurred to him. But if there were a cop missing from anywhere within a few hundred miles, he thought the local police would have heard about it by now. “I don't think Selene's in any real danger of being prosecuted for this. That cop was blowing smoke. They want her back here so they can question her, but they'd have to be idiots to still suspect her in any real way, when all the evidence points to someone else. I just wish there was some way we could make sure she's all right.”

Marcy glanced at him. “You want me to tell you what I wouldn't tell them.”

“It would help. And it wouldn't go further.”

“You wouldn't get into trouble for keeping something like that to yourself?”

“I might. But Selene's more important. She's family, Marcy.”

She licked her lips, then slowly, she nodded. “She's going to a campground in Texas to find the fifth member of our circle. She's at a campground there for the weekend.”

“You got a name for that campground?”

She held his gaze, and nodded.

“T
his is it. Right there,” Selene said, pointing to a carved wooden sign at the end of a narrow dirt road.

“Merry Meet Campground. Cute.”

“It's a common greeting among Witches. Merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again.”

“Uh-huh.” She seemed anything but “merry.” She seemed…deflated. Her usual boundless spirit seemed to have gone to sleep. “You suppose they get a lot of business?”

“By all accounts, they get all kinds. They run a great campground, and most non-Witches wouldn't recognize the name as anything all that unusual.”

“I suppose not.” He took the turn onto the dirt road, and followed it for a mile, before finally coming to a log structure marked Office. He parked in a small area, where only one other vehicle rested.

“This won't be easy. Maybe you'd better wait here,” she said.

“Why would it be hard? I mean, she's a witch and you're a witch, so can't you just tell them that and they'll let you talk to her?”

“Uhm, no. Just because I'm a witch it doesn't mean I'm entitled to crash someone else's party. People register in advance and pay to go to these things, and once in session, they're closed and tightly guarded to protect the attendees.”

“Well, I'll come along, if you don't mind.”

She frowned at him, tilting her head a little to one side. “Still don't trust me?”

It surprised him that not trusting her hadn't even entered his mind. He was thinking about protecting her. Which made sense, right? He was the guy, he'd brought disaster raining down on her life, and there were killers after them. Naturally he was feeling protective.

“You think my being there will hurt your chances of finding her?” Answer a question with a question. Great way to avoid giving an answer.

“Not really. I just think—”

Someone tapped on his window, and he damn near jumped out of the seat as he swung his head around.

A heavyset, smiling woman with a mop of brown curls stood there in a Born Again Pagan T-shirt, and a pair of khaki shorts with numerous pockets. He rolled down his window. “Hello.”

“Merry meet,” Selene called.

The woman met her eyes, and her smile grew warmer. “I'm afraid we're closed for a private event this weekend.”

“I know, the Gathering. One of my coveners is here, and while I know it's against the rules, it's really important that I see her.”

The woman's smile died. She lowered her eyes, shook her head. “I can't even confirm whether she's here or not, hon. We guarantee our guests' privacy—”

“I know. I know that, believe me. But…Bonnie, is it?” she asked, glancing at the woman's name badge. “Bonnie, her life is in danger. I'm not exaggerating.”

Bonnie's gaze snapped back up to Selene's, wide and horrified. But still torn.

“Look, let me give you her name and a note,” Selene said quickly. “You don't have to confirm or deny she's here. Just get the note to her if she is.” She was digging into the glove compartment for a scrap of paper even before she finished speaking.

Bonnie nodded. “I can do that much. That's not violating anyone's privacy. Okay, I'll do that.”

“Thanks.” Selene had located a pen and was scribbling a note, while Cory was beginning to feel as if he was nothing more than a seat cover. The two seemed to have forgotten his presence even as they talked around him.

Selene passed the note to Bonnie, reaching right across his chest to do so. “Tell her I'm staying close by until I hear from her. I put my cell number on the note. Okay?”

“Okay.” Bonnie took the paper.

Selene didn't let it go. She held it, gnawing her lower lip. “I didn't tell her about Tessa.” She looked at him as if for advice.

And he knew right then that she hadn't forgotten his presence for a minute. “You can't tell her something like that in a note, Selene. If she was as close to Tessa as you were—”

“I know. But she has a right to know.”

“She'll call you. You can tell her then. Face to face.”

“But what if she doesn't call? What if she doesn't realize how real the threat is, without knowing what's already happened?”

Bonnie covered Selene's hand with her free one. The other still held one edge of the note. “She's your coven mate. Perfect love and perfect trust, right?”

Selene met the other woman's eyes and nodded. “Perfect love and perfect trust. If I say she's in danger, she'll believe me. She'll call.”

“She'll call,” Cory repeated.

Selene gazed at Cory again and seemed reassured. “She'd better.” She let the other woman take the note.

“There's an inn, in town,” the helpful Bonnie said. “A nice one. Should be vacancies, this time of year. Go back to the end of the road and take a right. Three miles down, on the left. the Cactus Rose.”

“Thanks.”

“Before you go, Selene…” She stabbed Selene in the eyes with a probing look. “Is there any chance this trouble followed you down here? Any chance it's liable to show up at this campground?”

“We weren't followed,” Cory said. “I'm sure of it.”

He glanced at Selene, saw the troubled look in her eyes and wondered at it.

“It wouldn't hurt to be extra cautious, Bonnie. Just in case.”

Bonnie looked worried. More than worried, she looked scared. She glanced at the name on the note, and lifted her brows. “Erica Jackson?” Then she shook her head.

“She might be using her craft name. Starshadow,” Selene said. Then she looked at Cory and nodded. “Let's go.”

He waved to Bonnie, put the car into gear, drove around a loop, and headed back the way they had come. But the troubled look on Selene's pretty face didn't ease. And it worried him.

“Tell me. What's wrong?”

She sighed, gave her head a shake, almost as if trying to shake something out of it. “Nothing. Probably nothing.”

“I can see there's something.”

She waved a hand at him. “Turn right here, remember?”

“I remember.” He took the turn, and decided to try changing the subject. He didn't like seeing her so worried. “So how about those shorts she was wearing huh? Had enough pockets to hold my entire collection.”

“What collection?”

He glanced at her, and then realized he was remembering again. In vivid detail. “Birds of prey,” he said. “Miniatures, wood carvings, ceramics, clay, pewter.”

“No wonder you recognized my feather. You're into raptors.”

“Yeah. Accipiters, buteos and allies, eagles and falcons, even the vultures.” He could see his little collection even now. It sat on shelves in his log cabin, shelves he'd made of hand-hewn pine planks, all stained and polished to a rich lustrous shine.

In fact, he could see more. He could see his living room. Cozy and neat. Hunter-green plaid curtains in rich flannel. A fireplace. And something he'd said aloud just now was ringing a loud bell in his brain. Accipiters, buteos, allies…falcons.

Nowhere, however, did he see any sign of a wife.

“Which hawk is your favorite?”

“Redtail,” he said. “Same as yours.”

She smiled. “Maybe we have a few things in common after all, huh?”

“Maybe we do.” The bell was still ringing. And it finally came clear. “Falconer,” he said then. “It's Falconer.”

“What is?” She studied him as he drove. “You're a falconer?”

“I don't think so. But that's my name. Cory Falconer. Cory Michael Falconer.”

She smiled, and he sent a smile back at her. Their eyes met, and that spark flared between them, but then her smile died slowly. And he knew she wanted to ask if he remembered there being a Mrs. Cory Falconer, and he wasn't sure how the hell to answer her if she did. He didn't want to admit there was no hint of that sort of memory in his mind. Would he really recall a bird collection and not a wife? And wouldn't he then have to admit that he never had felt that was true? And wouldn't that just set her off again on her tangent about them being soul mates, destined to be bound forever? He didn't want that.

What he wanted…was to kiss her. To kiss her breath away.

He was saved from the question she was about to ask by the sight of the inn up ahead. “There it is,” he said. “Vacancy. Score.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

They pulled into the parking lot, and Cory went in to register them, proud as hell that he could sign his actual name.

He was easily pleased, wasn't he?

As she signed in beside his name, he glanced at her profile, the way her hair fell down to veil her face, so he could only see the exotic tilt of one blue, blue eye between the fringes of pale blond.

No, he wasn't easily pleased. Not easily at all.

 

All through the long drive from Oklahoma, she'd felt that something wasn't right. But her instincts were so off target that she didn't trust them.

Goddess, how could she have been so wrong?

She gave herself a mental shake. She had to get over it, get her focus off Cory, and how sure she'd been, and how wrong she'd been. To seal it she asked herself if any woman in her right mind would be this heartbroken, this devastated at losing a man she'd only known for a few days. Losing a man she'd never really had.

Well, okay, she'd
had
him. But she'd never
really
had him. Not the way she had thought she would. Not to call her own. Not to be his own. Not to be loved by him.

And that was what she wanted. She wanted him to love her. It was stupid that she wanted it, even now. Wanting something like that was wrong. It would only cause him pain to love one woman while being married to another. Why would she wish that on him? Was she honestly that selfish?

Maybe. Because she did wish it, deep, deep inside her, she longed to have him turn to her, sweep her into his arms and tell her that he couldn't help himself. That he loved her. She didn't want him to be in pain. She didn't want to cause him trouble. But she craved his love.

And didn't every woman want that? Every woman who loved a man, even if she new they had no chance, no future? Didn't every woman ache, deep down, to have the man she loved tell her that he loved her, too? Wasn't that kind of hardwired into the female heart?

Ah, hell, she just wasn't sure of anything anymore.

She mulled these things over as they walked from the inn's office to their room, which was a tiny cabin that was a separate building. All the cabins were. The sidewalk twisted among gardens lush with natural, native plants. Plants that didn't need watering in this dry climate in southwestern Texas. And it occurred to her that they were not that far away from El Paso, or Quinn, just beyond it.

“I have relatives not far from here.”

“You do?” he asked, and he looked at her as if he were interested. “Who?”

Did he really want to know? she wondered. Did he honestly care about her relatives or her family background? Could he, maybe, care about her? This thing had felt completely one-sided, at the start. But maybe—hell, did it matter? If he had a wife, did it really matter?

Yeah, it did. To her it did. “Too many to name. The Texas branch of the family is huge. I haven't seen most of them in a long time. Too long.”

“So maybe when all this is over, we should pay them a visit.”

She met his eyes. “When all this is over, Cory, you'll be going back to Big Falls, collecting your brother and heading home to…to wherever you're from. To your collection of raptors. And your wife.”

He flicked his eyes away, just briefly. Guilt again. He must remember her, if he were feeling this guilty about being with Selene. She just knew it. He didn't want to hurt her by talking about it, but hell, how likely was a man to remember a bird collection and not a wife?

He probably loved her. He probably missed her, ached for her, now that he remembered her, and he was probably racked with guilt for making love with another woman.

She had to turn her head away quickly, so he wouldn't see the tears that sprang into her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she pointed to the cabin at the end of the walk. “That would be it,” she said, noting the number 7 on the door. “I'm really sorry there's only one available. But…nothing will happen, Cory. I promise.”

Her tears blinked dry, she glanced up at him when he didn't answer. And she could have sworn she saw real regret in his eyes.

No. That was probably just her own wishful thinking. She stopped at the door, waited while he unlocked the cabin, and then walked through the door while he held it open for her. She eyed the tiny sofa, more like a loveseat, just big enough for two, and the single bedroom, with the big fluffy bed. Just one.