Foxfire (15 page)

“I don't need—”

“Remember what I told you about my
mother?”

“But—”

“Grace. Be reasonable. It will only take a
few minutes to drive to your place. Let me do that much for
you.”

She stared into his eyes. Finally she
shrugged. “Whatever. But let's go check on Tiffany first.”

****

Grace spent a restless night on Tyler's
couch. At the first sign of light, she washed her face, brushed her
teeth, and finger-combed her damp curls. There was no sound coming
from behind Tyler's closed bedroom door, so she quietly went about
putting on a pot of coffee.

Tyler's apartment was surprisingly homey,
more so than her house which she'd had three years to decorate and
furnish. In the back of her mind lurked the possibility of having
to move. At times it seemed she'd spent her entire life running
away from something. Though she told herself she'd never run again,
that she'd stay in Foxfire forever, reality had her poised for
flight. Perhaps it would be best to leave Foxfire as soon as
Tiffany recovered. If Max wanted her, he'd have to find her again
and she wouldn't have the guilt of endangering her friends. The
thought of never seeing Brad again started a throbbing tension
headache. Max had already stolen so much from her. She deserved a
life free from his threat.

Grace lifted a silver filigree frame from the
mantle. The image of a man and woman smiled back at her. This had
be a picture of Tyler's parents. The woman's green eyes were the
mirror image of Tyler's, and the man's teasing dimples, she'd seen
many times on Tyler's face. She sighed. She didn't want to give up
her life here.

Tyler's voice drifted through his closed
bedroom door. She set the picture back in place and cautiously
approached.

“No, don't send anyone yet. I'll call if I
need help. If Max is here, I'll get him.”

Max? She placed her ear against the door. Who
was Tyler talking to, and what did he know about Max?

“I'm not sure he’s behind this yet.”

Grace's heart began to thud loudly.

“Although Max prefers guns, I have a hunch it
was him. Whoever did it was lashing out at Grace. She and that dog
are inseparable.”

Grace turned the knob on the bedroom door and
flung it open. She had a second to register the slam against the
wall before Tyler dropped the phone and spun, both hands closed
around a gun pointed right between her eyes.

“Damn,” he said, lowering the weapon. He
picked up the phone with one hand. “I'll call you back.” He dropped
it back on the mattress and shoved the gun in his waistband.

Grace's shock began to ebb. “Who are
you?”

Tyler ruffled a hand through his hair. “I
guess you overheard.”

“I didn't overhear. I eavesdropped. I want
answers, Tyler.”

His gaze burned into hers. “Let me fix some
coffee first.”

She blocked the doorway. “Who are you? A
cop?”

His closed expression showed no sign of what
he might be thinking. “No,” he replied. He gently moved her aside
and strode toward the kitchen.

Grace tagged closely behind. “Are you really
a vet?”

“Thanks.” He nodded toward the full pot of
coffee and reached for the cabinet door. Grace's hand stopped him
from opening it.

“Answers first.”

“Yes, I'm a vet.”

“What else?”

He pulled out a chair and indicated she
should do the same. Deep in her soul, she feared her world was
about to come crashing in on her.

“I'll tell you everything you want to know
after I have a cup of coffee.”

He ran a hand through his hair again, leaving
it mussed. Much to her dismay, it reminded her of soft beds and
sex. “It's been a rough night.”

How could he appear so calm and unconcerned
after pointing a gun at her? The hard look in his eyes as he'd spun
with the weapon in his hands told her he knew how to use it. She
had to get away from him and from the past that knocked harshly on
the locked door of her heart. “Yes, it has,” she responded. The
urge to run overpowered her desire to hear his explanations. “To
hell with the coffee. And to hell with you!” She whirled and ran
for the sliding doors.

****

Tyler reacted on instinct, grabbing her arm.
She drove a fist into his nose, surprising him and loosening his
fingers. She pulled free and darted outside.

He tested his nose for blood, found none, and
hurried after her. A brief smile tugged at his lips. The woman
might be small, but she packed a mean right hook.

He caught her at the edge of the woods, and
grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and
lifting her from the ground.

She fought hard, slamming her head back,
trying to connect with his face. Her feet kicked against his shins
and her breath came in short grunts of frustration.

“Let. Me. Go.” She clawed at him.

Her nails raked his arm. “Stop it, Grace.
Give me a chance to explain.”

“No.” Her head slammed against his chest. She
nailed a solid kick to his shin, staggering him.

He dropped to the ground, pinning her beneath
him. Her weight was no match against him, and she wilted, closing
her eyes and turning her face away.

“I'm not a cop. I'm a vet. And I work
for...an investigation firm.”

She opened her eyes and spit in his face.

So much for thinking she'd given in to his
superior position. He wiped a hand across his face. Her eyes glared
through him like poison darts.

“You're investigating me?” she yelled.

He'd expected her anger, but not the hatred
sparking deep in her eyes. Somehow that hurt more than her punch to
his nose.

“Just let me explain.” He drew in a deep
breath. “If I let you go, will you promise not to run away?”

“Why should I?”

“Have you forgotten about Tiffany?”

Her gaze wavered. She shifted, trying to free
herself. His body responded. Looking down into her flushed face and
angry eyes brought a desire to mash his lips on hers and turn her
anger into a passion that would drive them both over the edge. He
shook his head, wishing he dared to let go of her long enough to
regain his senses. “I am a vet, Grace.” She pushed against him and
he grunted.

“Let me up.” She bucked upward.

“Can I trust you?” he asked.

“Can I trust
you
?” she countered.

“Yes.” Slowly, he raised his body off hers,
stood and extended his hand to help her up.

She ignored his gesture and pushed to her
feet.

He wiped the perspiration from his brow. “Can
we have that coffee now?”

Grace dusted her backside then turned and
strode back to his apartment.

****

When they reached the deck, Grace leaned
against the railing, while Tyler went inside. Anger raged, making
her want to hit something, or someone—namely Tyler. He'd lied to
her. Had anything he'd told her been truthful? Fury built in her
chest until she wanted to release her frustration in a
blood-curdling scream. She wouldn't give in to the temptation. Only
a woman who had no recourse would resort to such an outlet. Grace
had years of experience in stifling her true feelings. She pushed
back the surface emotions, determined to find out the truth.

Tyler returned and handed her a cup of
coffee. The last thing she needed was caffeine. For a moment, she
contemplated flinging the hot liquid in his face, then turned her
back before the temptation overcame her.

“I didn't mean to infer you were my case,”
Tyler said, his voice too near for comfort.

She inched away, putting more distance
between them. “So, I'm not your case?”

“No.”

She turned and glared at him through narrowed
eyes.

He threw up his arms. “All right. You're my
case.” He flopped into a chair. “Sit down, Grace.”

She pressed her lips together. She took
orders from no man.

He heaved a loud and obviously frustrated
breath of air. “I moved to Foxfire to start a veterinarian
practice. I needed to make a new start. I was sick of working
undercover, and there were too many bad memories in Ohio.”

“What does that have to do with me?” She
fought to keep the anger under control.

“Max Clayton.”

She felt a nerve twitch beneath her eye. “I
don't know anyone named Max,” she lied.

“Three people have been murdered. All of them
testified in the trial.” A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. “We
think Max fled the country after his escape, but he's back now,
maybe with a new face.”

Murdered? She felt the blood draining from
her face, and in spite of the heat, a chill crept into her
bones.

Tyler's penetrating gaze never left hers.
“You're the last person alive who testified in the trial.”

“And you think I'm next?”

Tyler stood and touched her shoulder.

She pulled away. “Don't touch me.”

“I want to help you.”

“Help me? How? By lying to me? Seducing me?”
She paced to the opposite of the deck. How could he use her like
that? She wanted to blame him for everything, but hadn't she kept
secrets, too? This was her fault. She'd let herself be used
again.

In a low controlled voice she said, “If you'd
told me the truth, Tiffany wouldn't be lying in a cage fighting for
her life.” She approached and pushed her hands against his
chest.

He took a staggering step backwards. “We need
to talk, not throw accusations around.”

“Talk? About your lies? About how you
deceived me and everyone else who befriended you?”

She took a deep breath. She knew she wasn't
being fair. An overwhelming sense of doom surrounded her. She sank
into one of the chairs and dropped her face into her hands. She
would not cry. She was as much to blame as Tyler. She hadn't told
him the truth either. And she knew Max had sent her the scarf. “You
think he's here? In Foxfire?”

“Yes.”

“What makes you so sure you can catch him?”
she asked quietly.

“It's my job.”

She blew out a breath. Her stomach felt like
she'd just gotten over a bad episode of food poisoning.”

Tyler went inside and brought out the pot of
coffee. “Will you tell me what you can about Max?”

She straightened and looked into his eyes.
Why not? Maybe it would help him to find the bastard. What did it
matter if he looked at her with contempt when she finished?

She took a deep breath and began to tell her
story.

“I met him when I was working as a cocktail
waitress. He's the type who could charm a snake without using a
flute.” She shrugged. “So, when he asked me to have dinner with
him, I accepted. I didn't have a clue about his illegal activities
then.”

She tried to read Tyler's face to see if he
believed her. It shouldn't matter, but it did. “After that it
seemed he showed up every night I worked. We began spending lots of
time together. For my birthday, he gave me a diamond and sapphire
necklace. Needless to say I was impressed with his wealth. He could
give me all the things I'd never had. Security, someone to take
care of me for a change.”

Tyler didn't say a word. He just sat back in
the chair, crossed his ankles and sipped coffee.

“We became...close.” She couldn't bring
herself to say she'd slept with him. “It wasn't long before I began
to suspect he was into drugs. Call it intuition or stupidity. I
knew he and Manny Bonino were friends, and Manny was always one
step ahead of the law. They arrested him for drug trafficking
several times, but his attorney always got him off.”

Tyler kept his gaze fixed securely on hers.
He sipped his coffee, making no comment.

“I tried to break it off with him. Told him I
didn't want to see him anymore. I even offered to give him back the
necklace. He wouldn't let me go. He kept calling and dropping by
the club. One night, he was waiting in the shadows outside my
apartment when I got home. I didn't see him until I opened the
door, and he slammed inside with Manny.”

Grace took a drink of lukewarm coffee. “I was
scared. I knew I could handle one of them, but not two. Manny had a
knife and he held it to my throat. Max just laughed. I tried to
fight, but Max put a cloth over my mouth and I passed out. When I
woke up, I was a prisoner in his brothel.”

She searched Tyler's face for his reaction,
but saw nothing that told his feelings. She continued.

“I know it sounds like a trumped up story,
but it's the truth. When I woke up, I was locked in a bedroom. I
tried to open the window, but it wouldn't budge. I think it might
have been glued shut or something. I even tried to break it, but
the only thing that broke was the lamp. No one even came to
investigate. Later that night a young girl opened the door. I told
her I'd been brought there under force.”

Grace held out her cup for fresh coffee.
Tyler poured it without saying a word.

“She didn't seem surprised. She said Max
wanted to talk to me.” Grace met Tyler's penetrating gaze. “That
girl couldn't have been a day over sixteen. She led me to a room at
the end of a long hall and left me alone with Max. When I looked
into his eyes, I wondered how I ever saw anything charming about
him. I hated him. He was arrogant and so sure he had me trapped.
But I turned the tables on him, used his ego to my advantage.”

Did Tyler understand what she meant? Their
gazes locked. Why didn't he say something? Anything? She swallowed
hard. The truth was, she'd let Max use her that night. She'd been a
willing partner, though she'd kept her mind above the act.

“When he was...preoccupied, I stabbed him
with a letter opener I'd taken off the desk. Then I hit him with
the brass lamp and called 9-1-1. The rest is history. The cops gave
me immunity for testifying against him.”

She stared into his eyes. “Now you know the
whole story. You know who I am, what I am. What more do you want to
know?”