DeadlySuspicious.epub (3 page)

Three days later, Denby was at the bus station, propping up the battered ankle she had smashed in the fall from the window. It was swathed in a thick, crepe, elasticized bandage she had bought at a pharmacy. She had contemplated going to a doctor or the hospital but she didn’t want her father tracking her down due to any records kept. Denby could only guess at the reach the Jacobson Committee had. Before the bus station, she had holed up for three days in a local pub. The room cost twelve dollars and fifty cents a night, the bathrooms were shared and the cockroaches were free. That was okay. She didn’t plan on sleeping. Her plan was to lay low and then get out of town.

In order to do that she had hocked the last thing she had of value. Denby had kept it hidden in a small compartment she had hacked out under the inner sole of her right boot. It was a solid gold child’s bracelet. It was one of the two things she had that belonged to her mother. She had found it when she was a teenager searching through her father’s office, looking for answers. He hadn’t been home at the time and she had taken the chance to see what she could find. Denby knew nothing about her father. That didn’t worry her. He was a bitter man, a viscous man. If he had dropped dead in front of her Denby would have stepped over him and not looked back. But her mother? That was different. She needed to know who she was, where she had gone and why. It plagued her. Even as a teenager, Denby had a fair idea her father’s extreme behavior had driven her mother off. She didn’t blame her for leaving. She did wish her mother had taken her with her but maybe, due to her father, that wasn’t possible. What evil drove someone to abandon their child?

So Denby snooped around and found the bracelet. It had been inside a buff colored enveloped with a photo that was folded into quarters. When she flattened the picture out, she knew, without being told, she was looking into her mother’s eyes. They were her eyes also. She stared for a long time at the woman in the photo. She could barely remember her mother but Denby knew, looking into those eyes, her mother wasn’t happy. But she was beautiful and she existed and that gave her hope she had family out there somewhere and that she could find her mother.

The gold bracelet fascinated Denby. She wondered if it had been her mother’s. “Or maybe mine.” There were no baby photos of Denby or indeed any of her growing up. Her father made no effort to take them. Because of that, she had no hesitation in taking the photo and the bracelet off her father. “To hell with him,” she murmured, folding up the photo and stuffing it and the bracelet in her bra.

The decision to sell the bracelet hadn’t been a hard one and that had surprised Denby. She thought selling one of the few pieces of who her mother was would have closed the door to her existence a little further. However, in her heart, she knew her mother had to have made hard choices to survive. Living with her father was enough to tell her that. Selling a piece of gold to have her freedom from his evil, crushing influence? Priceless. The pawnbroker had been impressed by the bracelet.

“
This is nice.”

“
Yes.”

“
Why are you selling it?

“
What’s it to you?”

“
Is it hot?”

“
Do you care?”

“
No. What’s your name?”

“
What’s it to you?”

“
Hiding out?”

“
Are you doing all the right things you’re supposed to?”

“
I like you. Too few ballsy women around now.”

“
Just give me the money.”

The man paid her more than she expected but then gold prices were high at the moment. The thought that it might have been melted down made her hesitate for a moment but the need for escape money was more important and she felt sure if her mother knew, she would have agreed. All she needed now was a fast bus out of town.

* * * * *

“Great, just what I need.” Fast getaways were hard on dodgy limbs. Denby mentally slapped herself.
I can do this. I have to do thi
s.
I have no choice
. Staying anywhere near her father was not an option. The man was sick and liable to do anything to make her conform to his particular kind of madness.

“Hello.”

Denby jumped up in surprise, turning on her ankle and swearing profusely. When she could see through the blinding white light of pain casting a haze over her, she leaned against the chair and looked at the man before her. Tall. Dark. Handsome.
Bound to be a pain in the ass.
From her experience, attractive men always were. They thought they were god’s gift to women and after what Denby had just been through she wasn’t about to encourage any man. Who could trust them? “What do you want?”

He arched one brow up. “Can’t I say hello?”

No
. “Why?” No one did anything without a reason. She sank back down in her seat.

“Broken ankle?”

“No, crepe bandages are all the rage this season. Didn’t you see that in the news?”

He smiled and sat down beside her. “Waiting for a bus?”

“Well, let’s see, this is a bus station, so yeah, you’re very astute.” Pain was bringing out the smart ass in her.

“And you’re very angry.”

“Correct.” She was and beyond reason to be snapping at innocent people but being out of control annoyed her.

“Why?” He persisted pleasantly.

“None of your business.” And, even if she could explain it, who would believe her?
My father is
a madman who is screwing up the world and wants to hold me captive because I’m an
inconvenience. And you are?

“My name is Sirius Tate.”

“I’m very happy for you,” Denby responded, all the time thinking the name didn’t fit the man but what else was new? Nothing or no one seemed to fit into anything anymore. In her mind a ‘Sirius’

suggested someone old fashioned and a bible-thumper, proclaiming his views and daring anyone to fight him. This man, with his lean, good looks, was more like a male model or movie star. And why was he talking to her when there were lots of other women around who didn’t look like they’d been dragged backwards through a hay baler? She felt terrible. She looked terrible. Her clothes were wrinkled and her hair was a rat’s nest of knots She was naturally suspicious by nature but even more so now.

He laughed in delight as if unperturbed by her attitude. “And you are?”

“Independent and wearing steel caps so don’t piss me off.”
Well, one steel cap but it only takes
one good kick.

“Ah, you hate men.”

He said it as if he was indicating he had pegged her as a certain type of woman. “No, I just hate men in suits.”

“I’m not in a suit.”

“True.” He wasn’t. He was in denim jeans and a dark green t-shirt that brought out the hazel of his eyes. “I guess you look normal enough. Where are
you
going?” He didn’t look like someone who would travel by bus but then looks were deceptive. He could be a broke yet incredibly attractive vagabond as opposed to her broke and with knotty red hair and clothes that she really needed to change. But then jumping out windows precluded luggage. The clothes she had picked up at the good will store were pretty threadbare but doable. Not that it mattered. She was going to be on the road. From experience, Denby knew road trips were rarely glamorous. As yet she hadn’t picked a destination. It was a toss-up between the mining towns of Mount Isa and Charleville. Both were out west and more than likely looking for transient workers, busted ankle and all.

“I came down here to meet a friend’s bus but I don’t think she made the trip.”

“Stood up?” Hard to believe any woman would be dumb enough to let this one off the hook. He smiled at her and Denby’s heart did flip flops.
Lordy girl, you don’t have time for anything to be
flipping or flopping nor do you need a man. You have to get out of town now.

“I met you. That’s a bonus.”

“Ah, charm,” she drawled cynically. To Denby, there were two schools of men. One who thought they were god’s gift to women and she should be grateful. And the other? They assumed because of her red hair she was fiery, temperamental, passionate and therefore into a wild fling. She wasn’t.

Denby didn’t suffer fools gladly nor did she sleep around. Sex meant trusting someone. She hadn’t got that far in her life yet.

“Too fake?”

“Yeah. Better to flat out say what you’re thinking without the frosting.”

“Okay, I find you interesting and I want to know your name.”

“Turned on by ratty looking redheads are you?” Denby knew she was overly paranoid. Not all men were bastards. Not all were Committee members. It was just working out who was.

“I also like attitude.”

She had that to burn. She looked him up and down, assessing his potential to be a pain in the ass.

Nothing jumped out at her so she decided to take a chance. Later, it would make her madder than hell that she did. “Denby Dumaresq.”

“Interesting name.”

“My mother’s surname. My father’s a prick.”

“You know all men aren’t pricks by extension.”

Denby shrugged. No, that was probably true. She had met some good, hardworking men on her travels.

“Are you hungry, Denby Dumaresq?”

Starving
. She couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten. “Why?”

“Are you always this suspicious?”

She shrugged. “Pretty much.” It was her method of survival.

Sirius laughed, his eyes shining with amusement. “You make no attempt to hide your thoughts do you?”

Surface, inconsequential thoughts that could be thrown away? No. Her real, deep thoughts? They were well and truly hidden. “I’ve learned life is too short.”

“Had a tough time?”

Denby didn’t want to tell this stranger her life story. But she was hungry and she had made up her mind to take a punt on him. Hunger made snap decisions seem logical “Are you buying?” What little money she had she was going to try and conserve until she got another job.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Then I’m hungry.”

* * * * *

Five hours later they were at a small hotel, in bed, and naked. It started off so simply. After a large meal, Denby inhaled in a less than ladylike way, they had talked for a long time over coffee.

Sirius made her feel at ease. There was no pressure. She relaxed to the point of sleepiness.

“Tired?”

Denby yawned. “Yeah.” Dragging a busted ankle around was taking its toll on her.

“Been sleeping much?” He sounded like he doubted it.

“One eye on the door sleeping.” The pub had been a less than conducive place for slumber with its flimsy door locks. But that was okay. She had learned to survive on very little sleep.

Sirius raised his brow in concern. “What? Where do you live?”

“Nowhere and everywhere.” She was indeed the type of woman the Committee was trying to get rid of. “Anyway, I’ll be fine back at the bus station.” Denby was an old hand at sleeping on waiting room chairs. The bus. Her escape route. Any possible bus she had been planning to take was forgotten while talking to Sirius. She had to get back to her plan.

“I know a quiet place,” he began.

She arched her eyebrow. While she was sexually inexperienced, Denby had been around enough to know what men wanted. “So you paid for dinner and now you expect sex?” He didn’t look the type but then looks were deceiving. He probably thought she was easy after picking her up at the bus station. She was anything but.
I’m damn difficult
.

He smiled. “If you want or I was thinking you may just need to sleep. I can see you’re exhausted.”

Oh, that smile.
There had been no alcohol at dinner. There didn’t need to be. The man was intoxicating enough. “What’s the catch?” There always was one.

“Does there have to be one?”

“Pretty much always works that way.” While Denby had met some good hearted souls in her travels, there were a lot who weren’t and they were the ones she learned the greatest life lessons from.

“You don’t trust anyone do you?”

Denby smiled at him. If felt good to do that. She hadn’t had a lot to smile about. “Trust is speculative.”

Sirius leaned in and placed his hand on hers. “Someone hurt you very badly didn’t they?”

It was his soft touch and the kindness in his voice that made her want to cry and Denby couldn’t remember the last time, if she ever had, cried. “I’m just—”

“Wounded and very careful.”

Yes.

“I don’t want you for sex, Denby.”

Right. Well
.
Whatever
. That was a smack to her pride.

“I only ever make love to willing women.”

Wow.
He was either the nicest man or the biggest bullshit artist. “Where is this place?” Sleep she could use. Sex? She was too damn tired to be ‘willing’.

* *
* * *

How she got naked was pretty simple. Sirius took her to an old fashioned, clean hotel where the owners were an elderly couple and very welcoming. She felt instantly safe at their kind questions and concern. Once upstairs, she had eyed the bathroom hungrily. To have a long hot shower and wash her hair was worth more than gold at that moment.

Sirius smiled. “Go on. Use it.”

“Thank you for this.” If she trusted him and herself enough she would have hugged him. But she didn’t. She limped towards the bathroom, wondering when the last time was she had hugged, let alone touched, someone.
Probably never.

“My pleasure.”

She turned back to him. He was watching her. “Are you going to leave?”

“I will once I know you’re out of the shower.” Sirius pointed to her foot. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Who
are
you?” Nice was not a word Denby thought to apply to anyone. But this man? He was all that and more.