Love Inspired Suspense October 2015 #1 (12 page)

“The door was open,” Rikki reminded Santo. “Could you have left it unlocked?”

Her brother stepped back, his scowl widening. “No, I didn't leave it unlocked. Papa probably unlocked it and forgot to lock it back. He's been forgetful lately.”

“That's a possibility,” Blain said, seeing the concern flaring in Rikki's eyes. “We don't know whether it happened before or after Presley was killed, but someone entered after your dad and hit him over the head.”

“And if he knew that person, that makes it all the worse that it happened,” Rikki said. “I have no idea what Chad was doing there.”

“Did he know your father?” Blain asked.

“No. I didn't introduce Chad to my father at the wedding that day.”

Santo turned away, disgust shadowing his features. “It's bad that this happened, no matter who did it.”

Blain noticed the brother's agitated state. Worry about his father, or worry about being exposed?

“I need to ask both of you a favor,” he said, following Santo back to the quiet corner.

Rikki sat down by her brother. “What is it?”

Blain sank on a chair across from them. “I need to question Victor, too. But I don't have the resources or the funds to search in Europe.”

“And that involves us how?” Santo asked, his frown creasing like a row of sand dunes. He started fidgeting and stared at the floor.

Blain didn't flinch. “I need your help. You know people over there, including your brother, Victor. He's been calling so now's the time to question him.”

“We haven't heard from Victor in months,” Rikki said. “Not since Mama got so ill while she was visiting him in Italy.”

Santo looked down at the floor. “He's been calling me, KK. And Papa, too. But he's stopped since...since all of this started.”

Rikki narrowed her eyes at her brother. “I found Victor's name in Papa's office. Why didn't you mention this?”

“I figured he wanted money,” Santo said. “He claimed he'd heard things and that he was concerned but we both know that's not true.”

Blain made a note of that. “He could help us.”

“He doesn't care,” Santo retorted. “Victor is all about Victor, after all.”

Reminding himself that nothing was as it seemed with this family, Blain took a slow breath. “Do you think you can help me find Victor?” he asked Santo.

Rikki shot Santo an imploring glance. “Yes, we can. I don't want anyone coming after my family again. I want this over with. Two attacks and two murders in one day are more than enough for me. We lost a guard and...Chad is dead. We could have lost Papa, too.”

Blain nodded and then glanced over at Santo and waited for him to speak up.

When he didn't, Rikki continued. “We'll do whatever needs to be done to end this, of course.”

Santo continued to stare down at the fake wooden floor, his dark eyes as stormy as the night. “We might not be able to locate Victor.”

Blain leaned forward. “You came to see me earlier tonight, Santo. You said you'd help me because you're concerned about your family. Locating and questioning your brother will go a long way toward that end.”

Rikki pivoted toward her brother. “You talked to Blain?”

“I did,” Santo said. “I want to keep
my
family out of this.”

“Too late,” Blain said. “I'm beginning to think you're all involved.”

Santo shook his head. “We just need to find out what is going on so we can prove we're not.”

“I agree,” Rikki said. “I'm worried about Victor, too. He could be in danger, too.”

“We're all in danger,” Santo said on a growl. Then he got up and looked at his watch. “I have to go home and pay the babysitter and send her home. I'll check back in the morning.”

Rikki looked surprised. “Where is Althea?”

Santo shook out his coat. “My wife left for Miami this morning. And I don't think she'll be returning anytime soon. We are officially separated.”

TWELVE

A
fter her brother left, Rikki sat staring out the waiting room window.

The night was dark and full of thunder and lightning. A persistent wind lifted the red bows tied around the huge posts supporting the ER portico. She shivered and felt a hand on her arm. Then a warm leather coat over her shoulders.

Blain's hand. Blain's coat.

“You don't have to stay,” she said. “I have guards all around me.”

He sat down beside her. “I'm taking you home. You can't see your father again until tomorrow, anyway, so you need to get some rest.”

Feeling torn, she tugged the big jacket closer around her shoulders. The smell of old leather and spicy aftershave assaulted her with an overwhelming, endearing need. She was thankful for Blain at that moment, thankful that God had sent her a strong protector.

She could live right here in this warm cocoon that shouted Blain. But she needed to check on her mother. And she needed to know that no one would hurt her father. That realization left her surprised and off-kilter.

“What do I do, Blain?” she asked, surrendering to the need to let someone else help her for a change. “What do I do? My friend is dead, my ex-boyfriend is dead, and my family is at risk. My brother who never confides in me is obviously going through some sort of crisis in his marriage. I've been so out of touch and now that I'm back, everything is falling apart.”

“Maybe things were already falling apart before you got here.”

She hadn't considered that. Had Tessa's murder just been part of something bigger and even more sinister? “I don't know whom to believe.”

He lifted her up, his hands on her elbows. “I don't have all the answers, but right now you're coming with me.”

Rikki glanced at the nurses' station. “I should check—”

“He's stable,” Blain said. “And we have a man at his door.”

“Okay.” She gave in and allowed him to guide her out the double doors and into the parking lot. A lone, fake Christmas tree in the center of a tiny park sparkled with brightly colored lights. Rikki had to keep reminding herself that this was supposed to be a season of love and peace but she expected something terrible around every corner. Too many shadows overpowered the bright lights. But she knew God was in control, no matter how she tried to fix things.

Blain held her in the crook of his arm, his gaze moving all around the nearly empty hospital parking lot. When they got to his vehicle, she noticed he was driving a big truck tonight. He opened the passenger-side door and helped her up but the truck was high and she was too short to make the step.

Blain lifted her without even a grunt and placed her on the seat. When their eyes met, a soothing warmth flooded her entire system like a warm ocean current. His midnight eyes moved over her face to settle on her lips. He held her there, his gaze washing her in a longing that only mirrored the one in her heart.

Rikki wondered why this man made her feel so different, so safe and secure, so important. She wanted to say a lot of things to him but she held back.

He's a cop
, she reminded herself. If Blain found out her family was involved in Tessa's murder and everything else that had happened, he'd never forgive her.

And he'd walk away from her forever.

So she touched a hand to his face and turned on the seat, his jacket still covering her.

Blain's eyes stayed on her but he made sure she was in and then he shut the door and came around the truck and got inside.

“I'm not taking you home right away,” he said.

“Why not?”

“You need a break.”

“I need to check on my mother.”

“Call and talk to Peggy.”

“Blain...”

“Just an hour, Rikki. An hour away from all of this. I'll get you home soon enough.”

What could she say? She wanted an hour away. Since she'd been home, her life had become a whirlwind of trying to stay one step ahead of a killer. She'd ignored her clients and she'd ignored her friends. She'd tried to ignore the way her heart beat a little faster each time this man came near her.

But she couldn't ignore the way Blain made her feel. Not any longer, not tonight when her world seemed to be careening out of control.

So she said a prayer, asking God to help her fight at this enemy so she could protect her family. It no longer mattered what they'd done in the past. She could forgive that and she would somehow
have to
forgive that. She asked for a blanket of protection and she prayed God would give them all the answers to save them.

And then she tugged Blain's coat around her and nodded.

“An hour would be nice.”

* * *

Blain maneuvered the pickup up underneath the camp house pilings so the house would help hide the vehicle. He'd never brought a woman out to the camp house before. None of them had at first.

But he knew Alec had brought his fiancée, Marla, out here once to give her a break from her troubles so he figured it might work for Rikki, too. He accepted that bringing her here meant he had crossed the line from protector to something more personal. He wasn't quite sure what that something was but Blain knew he needed this hour away, too.

“What place is this?” Rikki asked as he helped her out of the truck.

He heard the wariness in her words. “Just an old beach cottage my friends and I bought together. We use it for fishing and hunting and downtime.”

She smiled and inhaled the cold night air. “A good idea. You and your friends seem close.”

Blain guided her around the truck and up the planked steps to the big screen porch on the bay side of the house. “We are. We all met after coming back here to Millbrook, over a serious dart game at the pizza house. After we compared notes, we realized we'd all been in the military. Alec Caldwell was a captain in the marines.”

“I know him,” she said, surprise coloring her words. “He's on the client list I gave you.”

Blain nodded. “Yeah, I talked to him. He gave you a glowing report by the way.”

“That's good to know.”

Blain opened the door to the house and went straight to the fireplace. “I'll get it warm in here.”

He motioned to a sofa in front of the fire. “Have a seat.”

She settled on the old leather couch and glanced around.

Deciding small talk would calm her, Blain went about getting the fire started. “Then there's Preacher—Rory Sanderson. He was an army chaplain and now he's the pastor at Millbrook Lake Church. He'll be officiating Alec and Marla's wedding right before Christmas.”

“Oh, the wedding.” She shook out her hair. “I so wanted to attend but now...”

“We can make that happen if you really want to go.”

“I don't want to put anyone in any danger. Especially not at a wedding.”

Blain wouldn't be able to watch out for her since he had best-man duties. “Maybe you'll be safe again by then.”

She leaned back on the sofa and grabbed a fleece throw and dragged it up over her lap. “I don't know if I'll ever feel safe again.”

Satisfied with the fire, Blain walked over and sat down beside her. “You can, for now at least. Sit back and relax for a few minutes.”

She smiled over at him and then pointed toward the big window in the dining nook. “Nice Christmas tree.”

Blain twisted around. “Preacher. He loves Christmas.” He got up and plugged in the pathetic little tree. “He also sees the beauty in what most of us would deem unsalvageable.”

“It is beautiful,” she said, her voice soft and quiet.

Blain came back to her and looked at the tiny white twinkling lights on the scrawny little cedar tree. Then he turned to Rikki. “I guess it is, at that.”

She was crying.

The real kind of crying that every man on earth dreaded.

But these silent, quiet sobs weren't about the little Christmas tree. She'd held them tight since the night she'd found her friend dead and now, the trauma of today and finding her father passed out with a gash to his head and a man she'd dated dead, had caused the letdown of emotions she'd tried so hard to hold back. And that letdown had turned into a deluge of pain and anger and grief.

Blain didn't think. He just pulled her into his arms and held her there, his hands working to pull the blanket up over her shivering body.

She turned and laid her head against his chest and then she snuggled close to him. She felt so fragile and tiny there in his embrace but she also fit perfectly. Blain had to swallow back the emotions clogging his throat. What was happening between them?

He couldn't explain it, so he held her there and watched the fire while the little Christmas tree's lights flashed off and on. Soon, Rikki's sobs turned into soft, steady breaths.

She'd fallen asleep.

* * *

Rikki's dreams changed from running in terror out in the cold to being anchored in warm and love. She could see her house, the big house where she'd grown up, off in the distance.

Then she saw her husband, Drake, waving to her from a shore that she couldn't reach. She cried out to him but he turned and walked away. Rikki looked around, searching for help. She saw a rustic square house set up on big pilings. A small Christmas tree shone inside the window.

She ran toward that house.

And then she woke up and met a solid chest.

Blain's chest.

She glanced up to find him staring at her, memories of her meltdown coming back into focus.

“Has it been an hour?” she asked, still disoriented, her eyes burning.

He checked his watch. “You have five minutes to spare.”

Rikki didn't want to move. And she didn't want to tear her eyes away from Blain.

“Five minutes,” he whispered. “Just enough time for this.”

Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with such a sweet tenderness that she almost started crying again. Or maybe she was still dreaming. Maybe she'd kept running toward that little house and now she was with this man in that same dream.

But the pressure of his lips on hers was no dream.

It was a sweet reality that touched her and scared her and made her want to run away again.

But she was so tired of running. Turning in his arms, Rikki welcomed Blain's kiss. How had she become so thirsty? So alone and parched and wanting? Being here with Blain felt as if she'd come out of a dark wilderness. He felt like an answered prayer.

And yet they had so much between them still.

Pulling away, Rikki sat up. “I'm so sorry. I...I shouldn't have let that happen.”

“
I
let it happen,” he said, his eyes washed in a black regret. “I let it happen, Rikki.”

She moved away, the blanket now suddenly cloying. “Did you want it to happen?”

“No. Yes. Never. Only since the minute I first saw you.”

She could almost state feeling the same. “But murder is a buzzkill, right?”

“Yep.” He checked his watch. “We need to go.”

“After that kiss? That's all you have to say?”

Blain stood and went to stoke the fire. A symbolic move if ever there was one. “What can I say? I'd like to kiss you again but we both know how this works.”

She started folding the blanket, her need to spar with him back and intact. “Why did you bring me here?”

“To give you some time to relax. Maybe to...grieve.”

Embarrassed, she shook her head. “Well, I've done both and more.”

He unplugged the tree's lights and walked back over to her. “Hey, so let's not get all bent out of shape now that our hour of quiet is over.” When she refused to look at him, he lifted her chin with one finger. “Rikki, we both know what we're facing here. Your family has a history—”

“I know,” she said. “I know better than anyone.”

“And I understand, better than anyone. My dad let things slide but I'm not my dad.”

“And I'm not my father,” she retorted, drained of any feelings now. “This brought us together but I won't let it tear us apart. I need you to find that killer. After that, the rest is up to you.” She started for the door.

Blain grabbed her arm and tugged her around. “Hey, nothing is going to tear us apart.”

“But you still have doubts about me, don't you?”

“Not about you,” Blain said. “About your family, yes.”

“And there it is. How can you kiss me and then tell me that?”

“I'm attracted to you,” he replied. “But I have to do my job.”

She nodded, the warm cocoon torn beyond repair. “Well, right now your job is to get me home to my mother.”

“Let's go.” He checked the house and walked with her out onto the porch. Then he said, “I know what you're doing, Rikki.”

She doubted he knew anything about her. “Oh, and what is that?”

“You're deflecting what you're feeling right back onto me.”

“And what exactly am I feeling?”

“You loved another man once and I don't think you're over him yet. Or maybe you're afraid something will happen to me in the same way. Right?”

Rikki's heart did a tumble. Realization curled around her like a finger of fog over the water. She'd pushed so many men away since she'd lost Drake. But Blain? She didn't want to push him away. She wanted to be back in his arms, safe and secure.

Only she couldn't admit that yet. Not now. Not when her life was in so much chaos. And not when Blain's own life could be on the line, too.

“I'm afraid of a lot of things,” she finally said. Then she turned to face him. “Thank you for bringing me here. It did help to let go and get some of this out of my system.”

She saw how the implication of her words had hit him. His eyes held a trace of hurt along with that regret she'd seen earlier. So he took her down to the truck and got her inside without a word.

Rikki took one last look at the little house on the bay. And she knew she'd never forget the one hour she'd spent there with Blain. A good cry and a good kiss.