Ropes and Revenge (8 page)

There had been something in the air between them last night, something more than a budding friendship, and he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. His mother had practically jumped at the chance to watch the boys tonight and all but shoved him out the door, insisting he should stay out as late as he wanted.

She was clearly delighted by the possibility of John dating again, even if Percy was an outsider, a Yankee, and had the weirdest job anyone in Lonesome Point had ever heard of.

But John wasn’t looking for a relationship or even a one-night stand. And even if he were, Percy wasn’t the right woman for either. They were too different to be compatible long term and she didn’t seem like the type who would enjoy a no-strings-attached fling. She was too sweet, too sensitive.

The thought brought images of her full lips drifting, unbidden, through his mind. Suddenly he was remembering the way her shirt had drifted up as they’d jumped on the trampoline, revealing a tempting sliver of pale flesh, and the heat that had swept across his skin every time they touched.

For the first time in months, his body stirred to life and longing spread, thick and heavy, through his chest. He wanted to talk to Percy about the things he’d discovered today, but he wanted to touch her almost as much. He wanted to discover the taste of her lips and what it felt like for her body to be pressed close to his.

Get out of here. You’re thinking things you shouldn’t be thinking about a friend. Things you shouldn’t be thinking about anyone but Lily.

John was reaching for his cell phone, intending to shoot Percy a text saying something had come up, when the woman herself pushed through the swinging doors of the saloon with her cell phone at her ear and a fraught expression on her pretty face. She paced along the narrow porch fronting the hotel and saloon, speaking urgently for several moments before cutting off with a heavy sigh. Her eyes closed and she ran a frustrated hand through her hair, shaking her head as she ended the call with a sharp jab of her thumb.

A second later, she kicked the porch railing then cried out in pain, hopping on one foot as she bent down to rub at her wounded toe.

Before he could think better of it, John slammed out of the truck and started across the parking lot toward her. She was obviously upset and it didn’t feel right to spy on her and leave. Besides, he was a grown man who excelled at self-control. He didn’t run from temptation, he faced it head on and showed his weaker instincts who was in control.

“You all right?” he asked as he climbed the wooden steps leading up to the saloon.

Percy turned, breath rushing out with a surprised huff. “Hi. Yes, I’m fine, just…frustrated. People can be so confusing.”

“Sounds like you could use a drink,” he said, nodding toward the saloon doors. “Want to head inside? First round’s on me.”

Percy shook her head, sending her silky hair sliding over her shoulders. “Could we go for a walk first? I’m too restless to sit.”

“Sure.” John turned, leading the way down to the sidewalk, staying silent as Percy fell in beside him. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“I was trying to help with Jenner,” she said. “A friend of mine in Prague is a hacker. He’s helped me get information on people’s credit card purchases before. Not for nefarious reasons,” she hastened to add. “Just so I could track down where missing people were before they disappeared, things like that. I thought he might be able to see if Jenner had charged anything in Lonesome Point and, if so, when. He’s always been so helpful before, but this time he refused to tell me anything.”

“Why’s that?” John asked.

“Because Jenner is alive,” she said, her outrage clear in her voice. “Though I don’t see how that makes any difference. I’m not going to steal his identity or ruin the man’s credit. I just want to know where he was last March.”

“That was good of you to try, but we might not need your friend’s help,” John said. “I did some more searching today and found out Jenner did a photo shoot for a band in Lonesome Point last March. The magazine that featured the pictures wasn’t open today, but I’m going to give them a call tomorrow and see if I can get confirmation on the exact day of the shoot.”

Percy made a considering noise. “You think they’ll just tell you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Though I guess, it wouldn’t hurt to have a cover story ready if they ask why I want to know.”

“It’s always smart to have a cover story,” Percy said as they crossed the street. “I mean, I’m never smart enough to have one, but that’s only because I don’t feel right lying about what I do. Though it would make things easier a lot of the time.”

“I like that you don’t lie,” he said as they started down the Old Town Highway, passing Ross and Elodie Spencer’s restaurant, where there always seemed to be a small crowd gathered outside on the sidewalk, waiting for a table to open up.

As they weaved their way through the crowd, heads turned and eyebrows lifted. John recognized the boys’ pediatrician standing next to Mia Sherman’s grandmother, the mayor of Lonesome Point, and cursed beneath his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Percy asked.

“Nothing.” He shook his head.

“Then why are half those people still staring at us?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “Do I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe?”

“No toilet paper.” John smiled, but it faded quickly. “It’s just… I haven’t been out with a woman since Lily died so…”

“Oh.” Percy crossed her arms. “But we’re just going for a walk.”

“It doesn’t matter,” John said. “It’s a small town. Not much to do around here but stick your nose into other people’s business and speculate on things you shouldn’t.”

John moved closer to Percy as they passed another couple headed in the opposite direction toward the restaurant, trying to ignore the smell of flowers and smoke that drifted from her hair. Percy smelled as wonderful as she looked. Tonight, her green sweater brought out the stunning color of her eyes and a long, multi-colored skirt swirled around her ankles as they walked. She looked like an Irish gypsy or one of the folk singers his mother used to listen to when he was a kid.

She certainly didn’t look like she belonged in Lonesome Point, walking down the street beside a man in blue jeans and an eight-year-old black cowboy hat. None of their business or not, he couldn’t really blame people for staring.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Percy said, clearing her throat. “About how small this town is and how everyone seems to know everything about everyone else. It makes me think that someone must know something. About Lily. Someone must have seen something, you know? Did the police do any questioning around town at all?”

John’s blood heated, anger surging through him the way it did every time he thought about how the LPD had dropped the ball with Lily’s case. “No, they ruled Lily’s death an accident less than twelve hours after she was found. They didn’t question anyone, not until Wayne Wheeler was arrested in Houston a week later on unrelated charges.”

“That’s Layla’s ex-husband, right?” Percy said, following him as he made a left on Mesquite Lane taking them away from the curious gazes of the people farther down the street. “I read about him today.”

John nodded. “Yeah, he was insane, but he didn’t kill Lily. Though he tried to make Layla believe he did for a while.”

Percy frowned. “Why would he do that?”

“To manipulate her,” John said, the memory of how close he’d come to losing his brother and future sister-in-law filling his mouth with a bitter taste. “As soon as he found out Lily was dead, he texted Layla. He said one of the kids would be next if she didn’t come back to him.”

Percy paused, turning to face him in front of the Grant’s house, which was still decorated for Halloween, complete with an enormous blow-up jack-o’-lantern and a chorus line of skeletons dancing on their roof. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, like I said, the man was crazy,” John said, barely resisting the urge to tuck Percy’s hair behind her ear as a gust of cool wind blew a few silky red strands into her face.

The urge to touch her was nearly overpowering, but every time he gave in he only wanted to touch her more. It felt natural to hold her hand, far more natural than it did to keep his distance, but distance was what made sense. She was only visiting Lonesome Point, and he wasn’t in any position to start getting comfortable having her hand tucked into his.

Percy shook her head. “No, I mean, it doesn’t make sense that he assumed Lily had been murdered, when everyone else believed it was an accident.”

“Except me.” A frown bunched his forehead. “Well, and Layla. I get the feeling she doesn’t have much more faith in the LPD than I do.”

“So that explains why she believed her ex,” Percy said, “but not why Wayne assumed the trail collapse wasn’t an accident. He didn’t know your feelings, did he?”

“I’ve never talked to the man,” John said, beginning to see where she was going. “Before or after he was arrested. He and his family don’t come into town much. They’re conspiracy theorists, doomsday preppers, you know the type. They keep to themselves.”

“They keep to themselves.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on the pink skin as she paced away down the sidewalk and then back again. “So how would he have even known about the accident so soon?”

John shrugged. “In a small town any death is big news. If he’d come into town that day, he would have heard people talking. Or maybe someone called him, I don’t know. A friend or someone.”

“Did he have a lot of friends?”

“No. Not that I know of,” John said, shooting a hole in his own theory. “From hearing Layla talk, it sounded like Wayne didn’t spend time with anyone except her, his parents, and his two older brothers. Mostly the brothers.”

Percy’s eyes glittered and her breath came faster. “Brothers. Doomsday fearing brothers who believe it’s them against the world.” A flush spread across her cheeks and down her pale neck. “Brothers who tell each other everything. Even their darkest secrets.”

“Are you okay, Spooky?” he asked.

“Is my face red?” she asked, chest rising and falling like she’d been out for a run, not standing still on the concrete beside him.

“As a beet,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand, sending a wave of awareness sweeping through him as his skin touched hers. “And you’re burning up.”

“Sometimes that happens,” she says, swaying closer. “When I have one of my feelings. One of the true feelings.”

Even a day ago he would have been too dubious to go along with her, but that was before he’d felt a ghost moving around in his body. And before he’d learned that he was going to be an uncle and that Percy had known about the pregnancy before Layla or Cole.

“So you think…” He trailed off, his tongue slipping out to dampen his suddenly dry lips. “You think maybe it was one of his brothers?”

“I think the brothers had a part to play.” Percy blinked rapidly. “I don’t know what, but I think they know something. Something…” She trailed off, head tipping forward as she half fell against him, her hands braced on his chest. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I get dizzy. After.”

“Then let’s find a place to sit,” he said, concern for her banishing his next question. “There’s a little park not far from here.”

“Okay.” She nodded, her forehead moving against his tee shirt. “Just give me a second. I’m still shaky.”

“Then let me carry you.”

“No, it’s okay, I don’t want to be a bother, I just—”

“It’s no bother,” he said, sweeping her into his arms, surprised to find she was even lighter than she looked. “Ought to be some pluses to hanging out with a big oaf like me.”

“You’re not an oaf,” she said, her cheeks flushing again as she tentatively slid her arms around his neck. “You’re very nice.”

“You too.” John started toward the park at the end of the lane, where Lula Bryce had turned her great-aunt’s old house into a city park and refuge for wayward gnome statues. “And I really appreciate what you’re doing. Until you came to town, I was getting nowhere.”

“We may still end up at a dead end,” she said, her face close enough to his that he could smell the honey and lemon tea scent lingering on her breath. “I don’t want to get your hopes up and let you down.”

“You could never let me down. You don’t even have a horse in this race. The fact that you’re even helping is just…” He turned to face her, steps slowing to a stop as their gazes connected with an almost audible sizzle. “It’s really good of you.”

“I’m not all good,” she said, her lips parting, drawing his attention to her gorgeous mouth.

It was a mouth that deserved a poem or a love song, something beautiful created just for it. Just for her. But Cole was the one who memorized poems, Bubba was the one with music inside of him, and John didn’t know if he would ever be able to create anything with anyone ever again. He didn’t know if he could make it through the night with another woman, let alone build a relationship with someone else.

“I’m not either,” John said, his breath rushing out. “And right now all I want to do is kiss you, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?” she asked, trapping her lower lip between her teeth, sending a fresh wave of awareness through his muddled body. He felt hot and cold, tempted and repelled, and so damned confused.