Delaney's Shadow (14 page)

Read Delaney's Shadow Online

Authors: Ingrid Weaver

Tags: #mobi, #Romantic Suspense, #Paranormal Romance, #Fiction, #Shadow, #epub

BOOK: Delaney's Shadow
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Max brought his face to hers. His eyes gleamed. “We don’t have to talk.”
She moistened her lips. “Uh, Max . . .”
“There are plenty of more interesting things we could try.”
“Let’s stick with talking.”
“If I were a real man, I would kiss you.”
“If you were real, you wouldn’t want to.”
He smiled and stroked his thumb across her lower lip. “Don’t bet on it.”
Pleasure shot through her body. Her legs shook. She locked her knees to keep herself upright.
Good God, how had she thought that he wasn’t handsome? His smile took her breath away. It transformed his face, deepening the lines beside his mouth and etching tiny new ones at the corners of his eyes. The crooked front tooth she remembered had almost evened out, but not completely. There was still a trace of the little boy’s grin in the man’s smile.
And she wanted to kiss him. In this moment, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more. She yearned to feel his lips on hers and taste his breath on her tongue.
Really
feel him and taste him, not through her mind but directly through her senses.
A twig snapped. Someone was moving in the woods. Someone real. Voices drifted through the trees.
“We could get a pizza on the way.”
“Sure, that’s a good idea. When does the movie start?”
“Eight thirty.”
“I’ll meet you at seven, then.”
Delaney recognized Phoebe’s voice a second before she caught sight of her pink T-shirt through the trees. The other voice belonged to a young man. She glanced at Max.
He cocked his head and turned to look behind him. He appeared to have heard the voices, too.
Then why wasn’t he going away? He seemed content to stay where he was, in spite of the couple that was rapidly approaching. He should go now, before they saw him. How would she be able to explain who he was and why he was standing so close to her . . . ?
The thought was too bizarre to pursue. So was the stab of guilt she felt for being caught with another man. He wasn’t a man. And no one had caught her. And she had nothing to feel guilty for, because she would always love Stanford, regardless of stray physical urges that might occur.
Stray urges? Even in the early days of their marriage, Stanford had never made her knees shake with merely the thought of a kiss. He’d never looked at her the way Max did. No man had.
But Max wasn’t real.
This had gone far enough. Delaney closed her eyes, willing him to go away.
His taunt whispered through her head. “Trying to get rid of me already, Deedee? You were the one who’s been calling me.”
“I’m sorry. I—” Now she was apologizing? “I must be going insane,” she said through her teeth.
He laughed.
Laughed.
The sensation rumbled along her bones. He pressed the pad of his thumb to her chin.
No!
She felt nothing. Her thoughts cracked out like mental finger snaps.
He isn’t here.
The sound of the footsteps halted. “Delaney?” Phoebe asked. “Are you all right?”
She opened her eyes fast.
Phoebe stood on the trail beside the big willow where Max had first appeared. A young redheaded man with the build of a football linebacker was behind her, his hand on her shoulder. It was Pete Pattimore, the handyman’s nephew. They were both regarding her warily.
Their view of her was unobstructed. Max was gone.
Relief mixed with disappointment. Delaney extended her hand through the place he’d stood. The air seemed warmer there. The fresh scent of his soap still lingered. She started to spread her fingers, then realized what she was doing and shoved her hand back into her pocket. “Good morning.”
Phoebe took a step forward. “Are you feeling okay?”
Sure, aside from the fact that I’m likely losing my mind.
“Yes, thanks. I just decided to take a walk down the path.” She stifled the compulsion to make excuses. This was her grandmother’s property. She had every right to go anywhere she wanted. She peered past them. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking the shortcut,” Phoebe replied.
“Shortcut?”
“This path goes all the way to the old train tracks,” she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. “It’s a lot faster than going around by the road. I live in the new subdivision near the lake,” she added.
“Then I take it you’re on your way to the house?”
“We both are.”
Pete glanced at Phoebe, then fixed his gaze on a point past Delaney’s shoulder. “Maybe you should walk back with us, Mrs. Graye.”
“No, you two go ahead. I’m fine.”
“My uncle said someone’s been hanging around these woods. It might not be a good idea to be down here by yourself.”
Delaney started. “Edgar mentioned last week that someone had been in the garden shed. Has he seen anyone since then?” Like a tall, dark-haired man dressed in drop-dead-sexy black?
“No, but Phoebe did.”
“I didn’t really see him,” she said. “I just heard someone moving around behind me. It creeped me out. I heard a woman got mugged at the restrooms beside the lake last week. That’s why Pete started walking me to work.”
“It’s not the only reason,” he said, taking her hand. “This way, I have you all to myself.”
Phoebe smiled and bumped her shoulder into his chest.
I want you all to myself, Delaney.
The memory of Stanford’s voice rose without warning. It was the same memory fragment Delaney had recalled three days ago, only this time, she saw more.
The car was moving around a corner as her phone rang. She bumped her head on the dashboard as she reached down for her purse.
“Don’t answer it, Delaney.”
He’d spoken sharply. She glanced up, surprised by his tone. “It could be Jenna Chamberlain. She said she’d get back to me about the dinner on Saturday.”
“Let her leave a message.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
He took one hand from the wheel and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s not spoil the evening. I want you all to myself.”
She wiggled her arm to ease his grip.
He hung on until the phone stopped ringing, then returned his hand to the wheel. “Cancel the dinner.”
“I thought you liked the Chamberlains.”
“I like my wife more.”
She smoothed her glove over her wrist. He couldn’t have known that he’d been hurting her. “They might decide not to come anyway. She wasn’t sure when Trevor would get back from L.A.”
“Then there’s no problem if we called it off. Tell them we’re spending Christmas in Paris. We can leave tomorrow.”
“What? Why?”
“Why not?”
“Isn’t this rather sudden?”
“I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been the soul of patience lately over my schedule.” He slowed as they approached the house and used the remote to open the gates. “We deserve more time together.”
She remained silent as they went up the driveway. This wasn’t like Stanford. He never did anything spontaneous. In spite of the Jag’s heated leather seats and the wool coat that enveloped her, she shivered as they drew closer to the house. Something was wrong.
He stopped at the front portico and was rounding the hood to open her door when her phone began to ring again.
Some instinct propelled her to answer it. Before he could reach her, she pressed the phone to her ear.
The voice she heard didn’t belong to Jenna, their neighbor, calling about her dinner invitation.
It was Elizabeth’s.
NINE
 
 
“ELIZABETH?”
Delaney’s voice hit Elizabeth like a slap. She lowered the phone, breathing slowly through her nose until the shock faded. The driver’s gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. She carefully blanked her expression and raised the partition behind his seat. His salary was paid through Grayecorp, not her. Any number of people could be slipping him extra money in exchange for information.
“Hello?”
She returned the phone to her ear, reminding herself that she did have the upper hand. Seven days had passed since Delaney had been served. Was this to be a plea for mercy? “Delaney.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“If you have anything to say, you should say it through your lawyer.”
“Wait, don’t hang up! We do need to talk.”
“I would think my lawsuit speaks for itself.”
“This is all so unnecessary. We’re both after the same thing.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
“We both want the truth.”
“Are you prepared to confess how you killed my father?”
“It was an accident. In your heart, you must know that.”
“Nothing happens by accident. There are always reasons. Your own recklessness and gross negligence caused the crash, and I’ll make sure the world knows about it. You’re not going to skate through this with your helpless innocent act. You’re not going to play the martyr and testify from your hospital bed as you did for the inquiry. You’ll be in a courtroom, and you’re going to pay.”
“This antagonism is only hurting you. We’ve both lost someone we loved. We should be trying to heal together.”
“I’ve heard this before. It sounds more absurd every time you say it.”
“Elizabeth, please.”
The sympathy in Delaney’s voice was feigned. It was as phony as the overtures of affection she used to feel obliged to make to her. The first thing Delaney had done after returning from her triumphant honeymoon was to claim she wanted to be friends. Friends. How stupid did she think Elizabeth was? Obviously, she’d only been trying to lull her stepdaughter into dropping her guard while she cemented her position with her new husband. Not that it had done her any good. Stanford had always had his own agenda when it came to his new acquisitions.
She focused on the buildings sliding past the window. They would reach the site of the new condominium development in less than twenty minutes. This was
her
new acquisition, the first major project to be initiated by Grayecorp without her father at the helm. She’d put Alan in charge, but the construction was behind schedule, hence this visit to the site, regardless of offending his ego. If he thought their personal relationship gave him a free pass, she needed to set him straight.
No, Elizabeth wouldn’t let anyone use emotions to manipulate her. She’d learned that particular skill from a master.
“Eyes on the prize, Bethie. Take your amusements where you can, because you’ve earned them, but people like us never forget what matters. That’s why we always win.”
“Elizabeth? Are you still there?”
“Unless you get to the point, I see no reason to continue this conversation.”
“I need your help.”
She laughed in disbelief. This was why Stanford had never wanted his wife near the business. She was incredibly naive. “My help? Why would I help you?”
“Tell me why you called that night.”
“What?”
“You phoned me the night of the accident.”
Her mind froze. For six months, Delaney had claimed amnesia. Her doctors had backed her up. With head trauma, there was often permanent physical damage to memory areas of the brain. In particular, the time period surrounding the trauma could be impossible to recall. Elizabeth had read everything she could find on the subject, and she’d concluded the doctors had been right when it came to Delaney’s case. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have resorted to the lawsuit.

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