Storm Surge (25 page)

His mood had turned strange. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised. The good face he was putting on for her benefit had to be difficult to maintain. She squeezed his fingers and released them in order to secure the door, then preceded him down the stairs. She bid Dan’s friends a goodnight in passing.

“Will you be late?”

Paige glanced at Liam for a clue. He answered for her. “Not very. No later than eleven, I should think.”

“We’ll keep the lights on,” said the wife, whose first name Paige thought might be Constance. She uttered this statement with deliberate emphasis. Outside, Paige turned to Liam as he held the Jeep door for her.

“Do they know? I mean, they’re friends of Dan’s, and he’s an ex-cop…”

“Oh, I’m sure they do.” Liam left it at that, assisting her into the seat.

More than an hour later—having traversed twisting, narrow roads in what Liam referred to as “the scenic route,” but which she suspected was a way to ensure they weren’t followed—Liam pulled the Jeep into a parking lot outside what had once been a rambling white mansion with huge windows, white colonnades, and a wonderful view of the ocean. The building now housed a thriving restaurant. Despite the hour, the lot was more than three-quarters full.

“Smart move, Gray, getting reservations.”

He smiled without answering. She realized for most of the trip he’d been quiet, leaving her to carry the conversation. She’d been too enthralled with the scenery to notice, but it both moved and troubled her to think her situation weighed so heavily on his mind. She touched his arm in assurance. He blinked and snapped his head in her direction as if she’d roused him from sleep.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” she asked.

“Yup.” He climbed out of the vehicle. “Waste of gas if we don’t at least go inside and breathe the aroma.”

Walking beside him, her hand tucked into his elbow, she wondered if Liam’s odd behavior might be caused by the changes occurring in their relationship. They’d come far in the short time they’d known each other. The speed of it certainly unsettled her, and he had even more reason to be unprepared for the forward momentum. She’d had no one in her life. A year ago, he’d had a wife and the hopes of a family.

Releasing his elbow, she moved her fingers along his arm to his hand and clasped it. Not hard but with a gentle restraint.
Don’t be afraid, Liam
, she thought at him.
Please don’t be afraid.

Odd, that plea coming from her. She might jump on a stalker’s back and wallop him with an ill-aimed punch, but God forbid she should trust a man enough to love him. The things she feared in life had been misaligned by the reality of living.

* * * *

With the phone pressed to the side of his face, Liam raised a finger in Paige’s direction to stop her from getting up from the table. “One minute,” he mouthed at her. Dan’s voice continued in his ear.

“Things are coming to a head. You need to get her out of here.”

“I know,” Liam whispered, overly cautious. Paige couldn’t hear him. He knew she couldn’t, and yet the scope of what was taking place without her knowledge filled him with guilt and anxiety.

“No one asked you to involve yourself in this. You volunteered.”

He didn’t care for Dan’s reminder of the obvious. It was too late to back out, even if he wanted to. Yes, the choice had been his, but where would any of them be right now if he hadn’t agreed to Raleigh’s coercive offer? “I have my own reasons for that. They haven’t changed.”

“I understand. Doesn’t make me any happier about the situation. And Paige—”

“Paige is my problem,” Liam stated.

“Paige is everybody’s problem. She needs to go.”

Liam hung up without the courtesy of a goodbye. “Fuck,” he whispered, and headed back to the table.

* * * *

Paige studied Liam’s eyes as he observed the seascape beyond the large panes of glass. She wasn’t sure he even saw it. She placed her hand on the table next to his, hooking her pointer finger over his pinkie.

“Thank you,” she said.

He started. “For what?”

“Bringing me here.”

“Of course. I thought you would enjoy it.”

“What’s wrong, Liam?”

“Nothing.” He spoke too quickly. She had already begun learning his “tells,” the little mannerisms and actions that gave him away when he was being less than truthful. Was this how it began, in this small way, the things that tore a couple apart after years of knowing one another?

Stop it
, she commanded silently. She’d spent too long entwined in a falsehood. Like Felicia had said, she needed to unlearn what she’d believed. Time for faith, Paige supposed, but it wasn’t going to be easy. There were going to be hiccups and relapses in abundance.

Liam removed his hand from hers to take the menus offered by the waitress, listening with rapt attention to the recitation of specials for the evening. Once the server left, Paige tapped Liam’s shin beneath the table with her sandaled toe.

“What gives? Seriously, I feel like the sky is going to fall on us any second. What are you holding onto that you need to let out? You can tell me.”

“Paige…”

“Go on. I’m all ears.” She put her fingers behind the appendages in question and pushed them away from her head. He barely cracked a smile. Dropping her hands back to her lap, she folded them in the linen of her napkin.

Liam cleared his throat, turning his gaze to the window. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

“I think we’ve had this conversation before. I don’t need to know every little thing about you. I like mystery in a man.” He didn’t laugh. She tightened her fingers in the hopelessly creased napkin. “Unless it’s something really horrible, like you killed somebody, I really don’t care.” At his look, she straightened her spine, eyes widening. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Not yet.”

“Liam?”

“I’m kidding. And I guess I shouldn’t be. Because with the mood I’m in, you can’t tell. With the mood I’m in, neither can I.”

She waited, blindly pleating the napkin into a fan. When the waitress returned with their drinks, Liam asked her to give them a while longer before they ordered dinner.

“As much as I’d like to,” he said, “I
can’t
do anything about recent events and the danger you’re in.”

Paige reached for his hand again. He withdrew before contact occurred, pulling his water glass closer and whisking the condensation from the side with an angled finger. He wiped the moisture on the tablecloth.

“It’s all right—”

“It’s not all right, Paige.”

“The police—”

“The police aren’t doing enough.”

Paige smiled gently. “I thought you said you and Dan would keep me safe.”

“I did, and I’m not faulting him or his department. It’s…it’s complicated.”

“I know that, Liam.” She glanced around for their server. “Let’s enjoy dinner and forget about that for now. We’re far away from Alcina Cove—”

“Not far enough. I want you to go home, Paige. To Tennessee.” Across the table, Liam, handsome, competent, confident man, looked both determined and a little frightened. “In the morning.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“No? It’s not up for discussion.”

“Ouch. That smacks a little of…I don’t know, dominance, maybe?” Placing her forearms on the tablecloth, she began to tick off points on her fingers. “First, I told you before, I don’t take orders. Second, I’m an adult and the risk is mine. Third, you’re not responsible for me, for my safety or my well-being. Fourth—”

“But I am, Paige. Responsible for you. In ways you could never imagine and I hope you’ll never know.”

His tone chilled her. She coiled her fingers into a tight knot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Expression guarded, he shook his head. “Do you think I want you to leave me? Just the thought of it creates a gaping hole in my chest. But how much worse would I feel if something happened to you?”

Comprehension filled her with relief. “It wouldn’t be your fault, Liam. Not your fault. Understand?”

“It would. This time it would be.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. Dan and his department know who they’re looking for now, and you’re with me. You’re with me, Liam, okay?”

He reached across the table and draped his hands over hers. “Stauffer would prefer you far away, too. You know that, don’t you?”

“Liam…”

Releasing her, he opened her menu and pressed it into her grasp. “Let’s figure out what we’re going to eat. We can continue this conversation on the long ride home.”

By the time dessert and coffee arrived at the table, Liam had lightened up to the point he’d begun regaling her with stories of his childhood. He did have a family, most notably a younger sister who he made out to be the bane of his existence, but Paige could read between the lines. She observed the emotion playing across his face with an overwhelming recognition of her own affection for him.

“Paige, what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Why?”

“You’re a piss-poor liar.”

“No worse than you.”

He flinched. “You look happy, though.”

Paige jabbed the last bite of her chocolate cake with the tines of her fork. “I am. That’s what’s up.”

His smile faded. “Paige, you really need to go home. You could come back after.”

“After what? This lunatic is locked up for giving me back my belongings? Nothing proves he took them. Think about it. It’s not like he was caught pawning a gold watch with my initials on it. What could he even be charged with? There’s no proof he’d broken into the cottage. No proof he’d been stalking me. Nothing that would hold up in a court of law. Heck, he could claim I had dropped those items and he picked them up. That’s what he told me had happened the first time.”

Liam’s nostrils flared. He shook his head. “The comments about hurting you? About your mother?”

“My word against his. And I jumped on him, not the other way around.”

He closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

Paige glanced around at the other diners, seated too far away to have heard. “Liam, school’s starting in just a few weeks. If I go home, I won’t be back.” She paused, her words like a punch to the middle of the chest. “I don’t mean never, but not…not soon.”

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “I know you have a career, a life.”

She did. She had both those things, yet suddenly they weren’t enough anymore. Like a car on a roller coaster, her elation of a moment ago plummeted. “I’m not going home. I want the time we have left.”

“So do I. But I want your safety, too.”

Paige popped the cake into her mouth, chewing slowly and speaking around the remnants. “Besides my going home, is there something else you might suggest?”

“Remembering.”

She lowered the fork to her plate with a distinct click of stainless on china. “Remembering?”

“Whatever precipitated Raleigh’s threat. Whatever drove you and your mother away from your home. Felicia Woodward said you had witnessed something.”

Paige rubbed her eyes, staring at Liam through her splayed fingers. “She said Raleigh
thought
I had witnessed something. I don’t remember anything concrete, just bits and pieces that won’t gel. Besides, aren’t there statutes of limitation for criminal activity?”

“Not all criminal activity,” said Liam, spinning the coffee spoon on the tablecloth. “Murder has no home-free.”

“Murder? You can’t—no.” Paige crossed her arms, shoving closed fists against her body to keep them from shaking. “Why would you say that?”

Liam’s hand opened flat over the spoon, ceasing movement. He placed the utensil back on the saucer. “Because it’s a distinct possibility.”

Paige shook her head. “How would you know? Has Dan been speaking about this with you?”

“Dan talks. A lot. I’ve been listening.”

The man who’d broken into the cottage, a murderer? That put everything in an entirely different perspective. She understood now why Liam was so insistent about her returning to Nashville. “But I don’t know anything.”

Liam didn’t speak. All around, the clamor of flatware on plates, the conversation of diners continued in an almost surreal din. Paige’s head began to spin. She put both hands out, clutching the table’s edge, the cloth smooth and cold beneath her sweaty palms.

Mom, what is that?

Sweetheart, don’t. It’s nothing.

Mom, no, I can see—

Come away. We shouldn’t be here.

Paige pushed away from the table and hurried to the bathroom, throwing open the door without ceremony. Standing over the toilet, she gasped and clutched her stomach in an attempt to keep her meal where it belonged. Knuckles rapped hesitantly on the door.

“There’s someone in here,” she called.

“Paige, it’s me.”

“I’ll…I’ll be out in a minute.”

“And I’ll be right here, waiting. Yes, sorry, there’s someone in there.” The last uttered, she supposed, to a patron seeking the facilities. Paige went to the sink. She splashed water on her face and patted her skin dry with a paper towel as she stared at her pale, bruised reflection. More than ever, she looked like her mother. It surprised her no one had stared at her when she and Liam came in. She’d almost forgotten the condition of her face.

Leaning closer, she gazed into her eyes, trying to dredge up the elusive memory. She
had
seen something. Disturbing and only half-recalled, a terrifying nightmare as a child, dismissed as an adult, and always blocked from conscious recall. She couldn’t drag the memory out of the darkness to which she’d consigned it even now. If what Liam said was true, she needed desperately to remember.

Paige opened the door. Liam was in the process of slipping his cell phone into his pocket. “I’m okay,” she said.

Liam touched her bare shoulder. “I’ll get the check and we’ll go home.”

Nodding, she headed back toward the table. Several yards away, she stopped. Liam halted beside her. Despite her distress, she smiled. “Oh, Liam, that’s so sweet. Where were you hiding it?”

She continued forward and bent to breathe in the heady scent of a single, blood-red rose in a narrow vase. A tiny card in a white envelope had been rolled to fit against the inside curve of the container’s upper edge. Paige lifted her hand to pull it out, but Liam reached past her and yanked the card free with enough force the vase wobbled, splashing water on the tablecloth. He stopped the waitress on her way by.