Dangerous Relations (20 page)

Rabe cleared his throat. "Mr. Waterstone, would you mind telling me what business deal
you're referring to?"

"Some of us have formed a corporation to build luxury condos ten miles north of here. It
has nothing to do with the attack on Ms. Wesley."

"Or your wife's murder?"

Brett stared at him. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it?"

"You said it, Mr. Waterstone." Rabe nodded to Officer Giordano, who put away his
notebook. "We'll be in touch."

"Don't I know it," Brett muttered, as he closed the door behind them.

* * * *

Ardin opened her eyes. Where was she? She bolted upright in the narrow bed, and then
groaned as the pain in her head and shoulder kicked in. Yesterday's horrors flashed through her
mind, and she burrowed back under the quilt.

"I'm safe in Brett's house," she whispered. She sat up again, gingerly this time, and glanced
down at herself. "And wearing his shirt." The thought of him fast asleep in his bed some twenty feet
away brought a smile to her lips.

Bed. The word stirred up erotic memories of Brett caressing her, bringing her to orgasm.
The thought of making love with him again sent blood rushing through her veins. She stood, intent
on going to his room.

My God, what are you thinking?
She gripped the doorknob and inhaled deep,
wrenching breaths. She would not chase after him like some pathetic rock-idol groupie.
He'd made it perfectly clear she was his guest only because she refused to be separated
from Leonie. He'd also made it clear there was no longer anything personal between them.
Who could blame him?

She used the bathroom and then, unable to resist the urge, walked down the hall to the
master suite. The bed was made up and Brett was nowhere in sight.

"Do you need something?"

She gave a start and backed up, smack against his chest. She turned around, barely able to
stifle a gasp at the glorious sight of him. Well-worn jeans and a t-shirt delineated his broad
shoulders, flat stomach, and slender hips. Hips that moved sweetly, sinuously...

"No, yes. I was just--"

"Wondering if I was up yet," he finished.

Dumbly, she nodded.

He flashed perfect white teeth. "I've been up for hours, hammering away on Leonie's
playhouse."

"Oh." He was letting her know he intended to fight her strong and hard.

"Go on, get dressed. Your clothes are in Leonie's room, all washed and dried. I'll make us
fresh coffee, just as soon as I find what I'm looking for."

"Thanks. That'll be great." She suddenly felt overwhelmed by everything awaiting her
attention. "There's so much to take care of, I don't know where to begin." She placed her hand on
her heart, felt it galloping away. "But first I must call Aunt Julia. Let her know what's happened to
her house."

"Use the phone in my bedroom."

She dialed her aunt's number. The phone rang several times. Puzzled, Ardin called the
hospital's main number, and was told Julia was undergoing tests all morning, and she'd best try
calling back after lunch.

"How did Julia react?" Brett said when she stepped into the hall.

"They're testing her all morning. I hate not being able to tell her, though she might have
another coronary once she hears her house has burned down. And it will be my fault."

"Relax." Brett kneaded her shoulders. It felt wonderful. She was sorry when he stopped.
"Getting worked up won't do any good."

"True." She peered through the hall window at the sunny day outside. "I'd give anything if I
could go for a run after breakfast."

Brett winked. "Now that sounds like a damn good idea."

"Except I can't." Ardin felt the pressure building up in her chest, as she ticked off her
obligations on her fingers. "I have to tell Aunt Julia about the fire, see my mother, call the insurance
company as soon as I find out which company, and buy some clothes."

Brett rested a hand on her shoulder. "But first you have to calm down."

"I am calm." She tried to ignore the fluttering sensations his touch had set off.

"No, you're not. You're frazzled. You've been through hell, and you need to relax." She felt
abandoned when he stretched his arms overhead. "Go for a run. You'll visit Julia and shop in the
afternoon."

She nibbled on her lip as she thought.

"Hey, I'll even go with you."

She grinned. "Which one--running, visiting or shopping?"

"I wouldn't mind a good run. I used to run five miles every day when I was playing team
sports in college."

Ardin imagined his long legs pumping around the track. "I could use the company. Too bad
I don't have a warm-up suit. Only these jeans."

"Take a look through Suziette's things. There's five of everything jamming the spare room
next to yours."

She was about to argue when she realized there was no point. Right now she needed a
warm-up suit, and she and Suziette were pretty much the same size.

"I'll find something and be down in five minutes."

* * * *

She settled on a purple and gold suit and a violet polo. It felt eerie, putting on Suziette's
clothes. Even though they'd been laundered, Ardin detected a trace of her cousin's favorite perfume.
But she wasn't going to make a fuss, not with everything crumbling around her.

Downstairs, Brett was pouring water into the coffee maker while biting into a hard-boiled
egg. "Want some?" he said, holding up what was left of the egg.

"Sure."

She reached for it, but he held it up to her mouth. Gently, she took it between her lips,
pressed the smooth white part against her tongue, imagining it wasn't the egg, but...

She jerked away and flew to the refrigerator to peer inside. These erotic urges to jump his
bones were probably the aftermath of shock. A physical reaction to her two assaults and the
fire.

"Want some juice?" she said.

"Orange, thanks."

She filled two glasses and carried them to the round table that had been set for two. The
morning sun streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, which looked out on lawn bordered
by woods on three sides. It was a nice rolling piece of property, and would look lovely once it was
landscaped with bushes and flowers.

She wondered if Brett intended to stay here. The house, new as it was, must hold unhappy
memories. Suziette had been found on the road that ran through the woods, only a few hundred feet
from where they stood.

"I come bearing fruit salad, fresh rolls and outrageous cheese." Brett grinned as he placed
the dishes on the table. "Occasionally we get something besides deer meat out here in the
boondocks."

"That's reassuring."

They ate, while chatting of trivial, inconsequential matters. She appreciated the fact that
Brett purposely avoided talk of fires and murder, of anything that might upset her or cause an
argument.

"I'd better call Vivie," Ardin said, when Brett began to load the dishwasher, "to tell her what
happened before she hears some terrible report and wonders where I am."

She was about to pick up the phone when it rang.

"Ms. Wesley, it's Detective Rabe."

"Good morning, Detective."

Brett sprinted to her side. He stood close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her
cheek.

"I'm calling to tell you we're holding Marshall Crewe. He's charged with assault and setting
fire to your aunt's house."

For a moment, Arden was too stunned to speak. "Oh. That's good." Was this awful
nightmare coming to an end?

"We traced Mr. Crewe's car according to the information Mr. Waterstone gave us and asked
him to come down to the station." Detective Rabe yawned again. Ardin realized he must have been
up most of the night.

"I didn't mention it last night, but Officer Giordano found a lighter near the spot where you
were knocked down. As soon as we started fingerprinting Mr. Crewe, he admitted being there. He
claims he was angry because you interfered with his relationship with his aunt, and he planned to
give you a piece of his mind. But he denies setting the fire."

Ardin felt her temper rising. "Of course he does. Deny, deny, deny. That's the criminal's
creed." Brett squeezed her shoulder, and she took a deep breath. "I suppose he also denied
slamming into me."

"At first he insisted he only brushed by you. The third time around he said if he bumped
into you, he never meant to knock you down."

Ardin snorted in derision.

"Do you intend to press charges?"

"I certainly do." She thought a moment. "I hope you'll keep him in custody."

Rabe sighed. "Come on, Ms. Wesley, you know he'll post bail and be out of here in--hmmm,"
Ardin pictured him looking at a clock, "a couple of hours, tops." His tone turned confidential. "Well,
maybe not till this evening, seeing how things are busy around here."

"Thanks." Despite her anger and agitation, she smiled. Rabe was doing his best to make her
feel safe.

His voice lowered considerably when next he spoke. "Between you and me, Ms. Wesley,
he's real upset. Shaking and babbling and worried about his career. I don't think you'll be getting
any more grief from Marshall Crewe."

"That's a relief. Good-bye, Detective Rabe. Thanks for filling me in." She put down the
phone and looked at Brett.

"They should lock up someone like that for life." She blinked back the tears filling her eyes.
"Destroying my aunt's beautiful home. And all because of petty spite."

"Not to mention nearly killing you. I'll call Rabe back and insist they send someone here to
guard you."

"Please don't. I doubt Marshall Crewe is stupid enough to try something again. Besides,
Rabe intends to keep him at the station till evening."

"Sounds like our detective is finally separating the bad guys from the good guys." When she
didn't answer, he said, "Still interested in running?"

"Absolutely. I'll call Vivie, then we can go."

She dialed the Presley's number. When Vivie answered, Ardin heard the sound of children
laughing in the background.

"Hi, Ardin. We're having a ball here. Right, girls?"

Ardin heard them shout, "Right!" She cleared her throat. "Vivie, something happened last
night."

Vivie laughed, then murmured, "You needn't reveal all the sordid details. Unless you want
to, of course."

"Marshall Crewe set fire to Aunt Julia's house."

"Oh, how awful!"

Ardin gave her an abbreviated version of what had happened, and that Brett had invited
Leonie and her to stay at his house.

"Your hero to the rescue. If that isn't too romantic."

"It wasn't like that at all." Ardin felt her face growing warm.

She heard Vivie talking to Leonie. "Ardin, Leonie's here, and yearning to talk to you."

Ardin's heart turned over as Leonie's little-girl voice chirped into the phone. "Hi, Cousin
Ardin. Is Grannie's house all burned down?"

"It's badly damaged," she said. "And it's all stinky and smelly, so we're staying at your
daddy's for now."

"Oh, goodie! Michelle and I are going to make cookies with Vivie. Then we're going to the
park."

"Have fun, honey. We'll pick you up later this afternoon."

"Tell Daddy I love him. Here's a kiss until I see you."

The loud, smacking sound made her grin. "I miss you, Leonie."

"Me, too. Bye."

"Where to?" Brett said, as they drove from the house.

"Anywhere!" Ardin threw open her arms, barely missing his nose. "I'm no longer a hunted
woman. At least until Marshall Crewe makes bail."

Brett gave her a stern look. "Don't kid yourself. Marshall Crewe didn't bop you on the head
in your mother's apartment."

"I've been thinking that over, and I'm coming to the conclusion he probably did."

"Come on, Ardin. I suppose he smashed your car window, too."

"That must have been Corey acting spiteful." She felt a surge of anger toward her
ex-husband. "Too bad I can't prove it and make him pay."

"Too bad we can't prove who the murderer is."

Ardin tingled at his use of "we." "That's the big question."

"Because this demented, angry person--no matter how much you deny it--wants you out
and away from Thornedale. Or dead."

She gave a start. "Why should he? I don't know anything."

His eyes cut to her. "Maybe he thinks you have Suziette's little black date book. Or Suziette
told you the same juicy information she told Dimitri."

Ardin shivered. "You're scaring me."

"Good, because it's time we got off our butts and figured out who this guy is. You don't
think Rabe's going to turn into Sherlock Holmes after all this time."

"He puts in the hours, but he's nowhere," she admitted.

"My take exactly. He still treats me like Suspect Number One, and I sure as hell didn't kill
Suziette and Dimitri."

Ardin shook her head. "Of course you didn't, but..." The image suddenly came to her, and
she had to dispel it once and for all. "Why did you break someone's nose when you were
twenty-two?"

Brett tossed back his head and roared. He laughed and laughed, until Ardin was frightened
he'd crash the Jeep.

"See, that's the kind of detective Rabe is. He digs up and distorts things that happened in
the past."

"Are you going to tell me about it?"

"Sure." He stopped at a red light and turned to her. Ardin could see he was enjoying
himself.

"My brother, Rob, played college basketball and, believe me, he was damn good. I was in
school forty miles away, but I attended as many of his games as I could. One night Rob's team was
playing the top team in the state. Their forward elbowed Rob and got a foul. Rob scored. His team
moved ahead and won the game." He winked, causing her heart to lurch with pure lust.

"For some reason, that night Rob had taken his car instead of the team bus. His best friend
and I walked with him to where he'd parked it, when four players on the other team came at us.
Well, I won't say they didn't get in their punches, but in a matter of minutes we had those guys on
the run."