Killer Secrets

Killer Secrets

By Katie Reus

* * * * *

Copyright © 2011 by Katie Reus

Cover Art by
Jaxadora Design

* * * * *

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

Eve Newman pressed her back up against one of the stone pillars at the entrance to the Underwood’s long, winding driveway. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing here but for the tenth time in the last hour she regretted her decision to put any credence to that anonymous email.
‘Want the story of the year? Underwood mansion. Nine o’clock. Tonight. Don’t trust anyone and don’t be seen.’

The cryptic message annoyed her. As one of the few journalists in the small town of Hudson Creek, Texas, she’d had no choice but to follow up on the lead. She certainly wasn’t going to give the story to someone else and her curiosity wouldn’t let her ignore it.

Since she’d grown up here—and had attended a few high school parties at the mansion courtesy of Tara Underwood—she knew exactly where the security cameras were and how to avoid them.

Squashing the twinge of guilt at using that knowledge against her friend’s parents, she peered around the pillar. A full moon hung in the sky illuminating only one car. The District Attorney’s Mercedes. Made sense Richard Underwood would be home. She doubted he’d sent her the email because what could Richard be doing to warrant such a mysterious message?

Frowning, she glanced down the long street. The upscale neighborhood was quiet tonight. Still she tucked her long hair into the thick knitted cap she’d brought and pulled it down low on her head. Without it, her strawberry blonde hair would be like a beacon for anyone to see. Wearing all black and feeling like a thief, she gritted her teeth and sprinted toward the closest oak tree on the property.

Using the darkness and shadows as her friend, she hurried toward the six foot wall surrounding the property. Her heart pounded wildly and her palms were clammy inside her gloves. She hadn’t even told her boss where she was going. But she wasn’t totally unprepared. Her Glock 33 was tucked into the back of her pants as a precaution.

As she crept down the length of the brick wall, the sound of a male voice shouting made her pause. She was right in line with the main house but the voice was farther away. Almost like it was outside, but too muted.
The pool house.

Careful to dodge two of the security cameras, she moved fast until she was hunkered down by a couple of overgrown bushes. The lights from the pool house were on, but the blinds were shut. She could see two silhouettes moving around inside. The shapes were too blurry to make out whether the people were male or female.

After glancing around the back of the large property to make sure she hadn’t missed any more video cameras, she pulled her cap down lower and began making her way across the grass. It was almost nine o’clock so maybe this meeting was what her anonymous email had been talking about.

A man started shouting again and her curiosity surged higher. She couldn’t understand what he was saying but his tone was angry. As she started to move closer, the very distinctive sound of gunshots erupted.

Pop. Pop. Pop. One shot right after another.

Then silence. Adrenaline surged through her like a raging river.

She was standing right in the middle of the yard like a freaking target. Not caring if any of the cameras caught her, she ran toward the cluster of bushes lining the pool house and jumped behind them. She needed to call the cops, but hiding was her number one priority. Eve held her breath and when there were no other sounds she raised her head and tried to look in one of the windows.

The blinds were drawn shut and she could barely see through the sliver between the edge of the blinds and the edge of the window. Immediately she spotted a pair of male dress shoes. Expensive shoes. From the awkward angle it looked like they were attached to someone lying on the ground. Someone not moving.

Slowly, she reached down to grab her cell phone out of her pocket. When she patted nothing, she inwardly cursed. Sure, she’d remembered her gun but she’d left her damn phone in her purse…which was in her car a few blocks over. A lot of good that would do her now.

If someone was dead or dying, she had to get help.

The sound of a door opening then slamming shut made her duck back down into the bushes. She hoped her dark clothing would help conceal her. Even though she hated to move, she withdrew her gun.

Her hand shook slightly but she’d spent countless hours on the range. When the time came, she knew she could use it if she had to. At the sound of footsteps running away, she inched above the foliage only to see the French door that led into the main house slam shut.

A light went on in one of the rooms downstairs then a few seconds later a light upstairs flipped on.

Taking a chance, she hurried from her hiding place and ran to the front of the pool house. Eve cringed as her boots thudded against the stone patio at the front of the small structure but she couldn’t do anything about it.

Her time was limited.

Easing the door open with her shoulder, she kept her gun tight in her hands. Her gut roiled at the sight in front of her. Next to the splatters of blood on the slick tile floor, the pale yellow walls seemed garish and too bright. Right beside the billiard table in the corner of the room, Allen
freaking
Martin lay on his back. His dark unblinking eyes were wide open, and a look of shock covered his handsome face. Her gut told her he was dead.

Eve hadn’t exactly liked the guy but,
damn
. She quickly peeked back out the door and when she saw no one was there, hurried over to the body. After spending months embedded with the troops in Afghanistan, she’d seen her share of dead bodies and she had a feeling he was gone, but she checked his pulse anyway.

Nothing.

Crimson slowly seeped out from the three gaping holes in his chest and was beginning to pool on the tile floor. The coppery scent of death filled her nostrils.

Instinctively she started to step back. She didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene and she really didn’t want to leave any evidence behind. She had no business being here but she did need to call the cops—even if she didn’t have much faith in their abilities. Her car was blocks over and she couldn’t waste that much time. She hoped Martin had a phone on him.

Avoiding the growing pool of blood, she felt the front of his jacket pocket until she found his cell. Once her fingers clasped around it she hurried back to the door. When she looked out she saw the light upstairs in the main house shut off.

Crap!

Whoever had done this was probably coming back. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that Richard Underwood had shot Allen Martin. Sure, Martin was sleazy, but Underwood was a good, honest DA. Or she’d thought he was. Now it looked like he might be a killer.

Hurrying back the way she’d come, she paused once she was outside the fenced yard to use Martin’s phone. She dialed 911.

As soon as the operator picked up she started whispering into the phone. “There’s a dead body at the Underwood mansion. 685 Kent Ave.”

“Ma’am, can you please repeat that address?”

“There’s a dead body in the pool house behind the Underwood mansion on Kent Avenue. Allen Martin has been shot three times in the chest and he’s not breathing. Hurry!”

“Ma’am, are you telling me that Allen Martin is dead in the DA’s pool house?” Eve doubted the operator was supposed to let her disbelief show, but in a small town the woman would have no doubt where the Underwood mansion was and exactly who owned it.

She sighed at the woman’s question. The dispatcher should already be contacting a patrol car. Another strike against the police department of Hudson Creek. They’d screwed up the prosecution of the man who’d killed Eve’s parents. Why not screw this up too?

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. Send someone
now
. The killer is still here.” It was hard to keep her voice a whisper when she wanted to shout at the operator.

“We’re sending a patrol over but I need to know who I’m speaking to.”

Not freaking likely.

Instead of answering, Eve hung up. She couldn’t afford to say anything else. She’d trespassed on the property and admitting that to the sheriff would give him an excuse to waste hours interrogating her.

As she glanced around she realized no one must have heard the shots because the street was deathly quiet. She desperately wanted to wait around and make sure the cops showed up but knew she couldn’t. If they found her here she’d be in a world of trouble. Hurrying, she continued her escape down the sidewalk.

When the phone she’d taken started ringing, she jumped. The caller ID screen said restricted.

“Hey, I hear it,” a thick, accented male voice said from behind the fence of the Underwood’s place.

Panic jumped in Eve’s chest. She pressed the end button, effectively silencing the call as she started running down the sidewalk. Her boots thudded loudly but there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to turn it off completely but didn’t have time to waste.

“Hey! Stop!” the same voice shouted behind her a few moments later.

A sharp pop blasted through the air and the trunk of one of the trees lining the street splintered. The pop sounded again and Eve felt a gush of air rush past her face. Someone was shooting at her!

Taking a sharp right, she darted across the Hawkins’ lawn. Even though they had an incredible house their security was shit and she knew they had an opening in their wrought iron fence in the backyard. If she could just make it.

Her leg muscles strained and for the first time in years she was thankful for her daily jogging routine. Pumping her arms and legs, she cleared the edge of the house. A spotlight on the side of the house flipped on—likely motion sensors—but she didn’t pause.

It almost felt as if someone was breathing down her neck, but she knew it was fear and adrenaline surging through her. Then she heard a muttered curse farther behind than before. At least they weren’t still shooting. Probably because whoever it was didn’t want to draw more attention to themselves.

She needed to make it to the opening and hoped no one saw her slip through. Her car was on the next street over. Her heart pounded that erratic tattoo against her chest as she dove over a cluster of bushes lining the back fence.

Blood rushed loudly in her ears as she began to slowly crawl toward the opening. When the phone started ringing again, her chest tightened. They were trying to track her using the sound. She silenced it again then slid the back casing off. She’d only have a few seconds to do this. Sliding the SIM card out, she put it in her pocket then left the phone lying in the dirt.

As she continued crawling, she pulled her gun out. When she reached the small gap in the fence she shimmied under it. Ignoring the dirt coating her hands and the underbrush caught in her cap and clothes, she shoved up and ran through the neighboring backyard.

After risking a brief glance behind her, she saw she wasn’t being followed. She allowed herself a small measure of relief but didn’t stop running. Even if they were still looking for her, they weren’t going to find her. She wouldn’t let them.

Unfortunately she couldn’t go home. She hadn’t recognized the accented voice, but she couldn’t be sure whoever had been chasing her hadn’t identified her. That left one place to go.

Macklin wasn’t going to be happy to see her, but Mr. Tall, dark, and too-sexy-for-his-own-good would have to deal with it. He was one of the few people on the planet she would trust with her life.

* * * * *

Mac paused as he ran a towel over his damp hair. Then he heard the sound again. Someone was banging on his front door. Insistently. He glanced at the watch he’d left on his bathroom counter. It was almost ten. Normally he’d be in bed by now and so would most of his men, but they’d had trouble with some of the cattle getting out after a section of one of his fences had been intentionally knocked down. By drug smugglers no doubt. They were getting worse in this area and he was fed up with it.

Without bothering to put on clothes, he headed toward the front door. That’s when he heard the one voice that had the ability to make him go rock hard in seconds.

“Macklin Quinn, I know you’re in there! You better open this door right now!” Eve’s shouts were followed by three more bangs.

For such a petite woman she had a loud knock. Shaking his head, he jerked the door open.

“Damn it, Mac…” She trailed off as she stared at him. Unabashedly her eyes tracked down his bare chest to the damp towel hanging on his hips.

Her peaches and cream complexion often gave away her emotions and now was no different. Those dark eyes of hers flared with momentary interest as they reached the top of his towel. When her gaze landed on his growing erection, her cheeks tinged an adorable pink and she quickly looked up. “Uh…do you have company?”

“No.” The only company he wanted was her. In his bed. But that wasn’t going to happen. So why was she here?

She sighed and visibly relaxed. “I need a place to stay tonight.”

Mac wouldn’t mind accommodating her but he knew her well enough that she wasn’t looking to jump into his bed. If only. He frowned as he took in her appearance. “What the hell happened to you, Eve?” The question came out harsher than he intended. Her hair was hidden by a dark cap and she wore all black, like some sort of cat burglar. Dirt smudges covered her face and…were those leaves sticking out of her collar?

She bit her bottom lip and eyed him nervously. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Sighing because he couldn’t say no to her, he stepped back. When he shut the door behind her, she wrung her hands in front of her stomach. “I did something stupid tonight but I’m not going to tell you what it is if you’re going to give me a lecture.”

Oh, shit.
If the stubborn woman was actually admitting she’d done something stupid, he’d no doubt need a shot of whiskey. Stepping further into the foyer, he motioned with his hand. “Come on. Let’s go to my office.”

Once they reached his office she tugged the cap off her head and all those gorgeous strawberry blonde waves fell around her face and shoulders. He resisted the very real urge to reach over and run his hands through her hair. To cup her head tight, pull her close, and—

“Can’t you put on a shirt or something,” she muttered as she sat on the cushy chair across from his desk.

He stiffened at her words. Instinctively he rubbed a hand over his left side and all the hideous scarred skin. It didn’t hurt anymore and most days he forgot about it but now…he wished he
had
put on a shirt. He didn’t like her seeing this deformed side of him.

Before he could respond she continued. “Don’t get that hurt look on your face. You
know
I didn’t mean it because of your scars.”

“Then why’d you say it?”

Her cheeks flushed again as she found a spot on the wall behind him to stare at. “Because I can’t think with you half naked.” The way she spoke through gritted teeth told him she meant it even if she didn’t want to admit it.

It shouldn’t please him, but it did. Probably too much. He bit back a grin because it would only annoy her. Eve was one of the few women he knew who didn’t focus on superficial stuff. And she’d been one of the few people who hadn’t acted like she felt sorry for him when he’d moved home injured, scarred and pissed off at the world. No, she’d told him to get over himself and be thankful he was alive. “Stay put and don’t get into trouble for sixty seconds, okay?” Without waiting for a response he hurried to his room and tossed on a pair of faded jeans and a sweater. He found her sitting in the same spot with that worried expression on her face. “What’s going on?”

“I just saw a murder,” she blurted. As she launched into a crazy story he was torn between shaking her and hugging her. When she finally finished she tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and stared at him with wide eyes.

“You really think Richard Underwood killed Martin?” Underwood was the squeaky clean DA of Hudson Creek whereas Allen Martin was one of the sleaziest men Mac knew. Martin owned five car dealerships around the immediate area and lived up to that greasy car salesman cliché. But that didn’t mean he deserved to be shot.

“I…I don’t know who killed him, but Richard’s car was outside the house. Whoever chased after me wasn’t him. That much I’m pretty sure of. The guy had an accent.”

“How do you know?”

“When he called the phone—”

“That you
took
.” It was smart she’d taken it to call the police, but stupid that she’d been there by herself in the first place.

She gritted her teeth. “Don’t interrupt. When he called Martin’s phone he said ‘I hear it’ or something like that.”

“Then he was probably talking to someone.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

“What is it?”

Instantly she jerked out of her trance and cleared her throat. “Nothing. Can I stay here tonight? I don’t think whoever it was recognized me but just in case I’d feel safer here.”

“You need to call Sheriff Marcel,” he said mildly, knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of difference in convincing her.

She shook her head. “No way. Those jerks don’t know what they’re doing. They’ll probably think it was me or something.”

Mac bit back a sigh because he understood her anger. Her parents had been killed by a drunk driver and the current sheriff’s predecessor had botched the entire process. It had gone to trial but when they’d lost the blood test results with the other driver’s blood alcohol content, it had been over before it began. And it didn’t help that the attending officer had been a new recruit and had gotten so flustered on the stand, the defendant’s attorney had ripped him apart.

“You can’t lump Marcel and his guys in with…his predecessor.” Mac didn’t even like to say Frank Reed’s name. It only made pain flash in Eve’s eyes and seeing that was like someone stabbing him.

“I can do whatever I want,” she said, though she’d lost most of her steam. “Besides, Marcel’s mad at me because he thinks I got in the way of his last investigation. I don’t want to give him more ammunition against me.”

“He’s pissed at you because you keep turning him down for dates.” How did she not know that?

Eve blinked twice then frowned at him. “He’s not
serious
.”

Mac snorted. Oh yes, the sheriff was. He’d been after Eve since she’d moved back to town a couple years ago. And he wasn’t the only one. It shouldn’t bother Mac. He had no claim on her. But damn if he didn’t want her for himself. Things between them would be too complicated though and he couldn’t travel down that road with her. “Fine, I’ll place a call to him tomorrow and—”

She jumped out of her seat. “No! I already have a plan and I don’t need your help. Tomorrow I’m going to head to the station and act like I’m following up on a lead about Allen Martin. I can’t accuse the DA of anything until I’m positive he’s involved in this.”

“You don’t think showing up at the station is suspicious?”

Her lips pulled into a thin line as she shook her head. “I’m a journalist. I’m always bugging the sheriff about stuff.”

Mac scrubbed a hand over his face. It took all his self-control not to call the sheriff but in his gut he knew it wouldn’t do much good. She’d already called the cops and if he told the sheriff what he knew, Eve could get in a lot of trouble. Not to mention it would break her trust. Not something he could do and live with himself. Standing, he pushed his chair back. “I’m beat so—”

“Sorry, I know I barged in on you. If you have a t-shirt or something I could borrow to sleep in I promise I’ll stay out of your hair.”

His lower abdomen burned with need at the thought of her wearing something of his. Instead of responding—because he didn’t trust his voice—he grunted something incomprehensible and motioned for her to follow him.

Hating how tight his skin felt and the uncomfortable sensation coursing through him, he stalked down the hall to his room. The five bedroom house was big for just him and now he felt as if it were taking forever to make it across the house.

As he finally entered his room he cringed. A pile of unclean clothes lay in one corner and he’d tossed his dirty work clothes at the end of his unmade bed. Nice.

Behind him, Eve chuckled under her breath and muttered something about him being ‘such a guy’ but he ignored it. He was definitely feeling like a guy right now. Being near her was making his brain short circuit and giving him a raging hard on. It was embarrassing that he couldn’t control himself.

He shifted uncomfortably as he jerked open one of his dresser drawers and rummaged around until he found one of his old Marine Corps t-shirts. It was about a decade old and he’d gotten it when he’d first enlisted. Since that first year in he’d put on a lot of muscle so while it would still be big, it wouldn’t completely swallow her. Next he grabbed a pair of sweatpants that would definitely be too big but it was all he had.

When he handed the bundle of clothes to her, their fingers brushed and they both froze. An undeniable electric arc of energy sparked between them and made him almost jerk back.

Staring into her dark eyes, he fought that familiar drowning sensation he experienced every single time she was near. She made him feel like a randy teenager. Out of control and horny all the time. He could lose himself with her. His brain struggled to think of something—anything—to say but she beat him to the punch. It vaguely registered that this was exactly why he avoided her.

She mumbled ‘thanks’ as she took the clothes but she still didn’t make a move to leave. Just stared at him as if she wanted him to kiss her. Ten years ago it wouldn’t have surprised him, but it did now. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a beautiful, grown woman and shouldn’t want anything to do with a roughneck like him.

But damn, did he ever want to follow through with this kiss.

More than kiss. He wanted to taste her, dominate her, make her forget anyone but him existed… The flare of lust in her eyes was too much.

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek. When he did, she sucked in a shaky breath but didn’t pull away.

He wanted to tell her to go but the words wouldn’t form. And her skin was so soft and
female
. He rubbed the pad of his callused thumb over her cheek. Her eyes grew heavy-lidded for a moment.

He could practically feel the heat rolling off her. Stepping forward slowly, he gave her time to back away as he closed the distance between them. But she didn’t.

She met him halfway. Before he could react, her hands slid up his chest and around his neck.

He was so screwed. The thought rang in his head crystal clear. Once he kissed Eve he knew there’d be no going back for him.

As he leaned down, her mouth parted invitingly. When their lips touched he felt the reaction straight to his center. Her tongue stroked against his, playfully at first. But he didn’t want playful.

Something primal burned inside him. He wanted to invade her senses. Make her feel the way he did every time he got close to her. He started to thread his fingers through her thick hair when she froze.

With wide eyes, she pulled back and out of his embrace. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I can’t…we can’t…goodnight, Mac.” Before he could think of a response, she turned on her heel and hurried out of his room.

After she’d gone he realized he hadn’t shown her to a guestroom, but he knew she’d figure it out and pick one. If she didn’t, he hoped she’d crawl into bed with him. He scrubbed a hand over his face at the thought. That was definitely wishful thinking.

The only thing he knew was that she wasn’t going to the sheriff’s by herself tomorrow. The woman could fight him all she wanted but after what she’d told him, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

Eve had the ability to drive him insane more than anyone. He’d known her practically his entire life and he’d been half in love with her for most of it. Things would never work out though. Too many complications and baggage. She was too good for him. Way too good. Part of him was glad she’d realized it before they’d done something stupid tonight. He sure as hell hadn’t had the common sense to pull back.