Tidal Falls (Wounded Hearts Book 1)

PROLOGUE

Sara Sheridan waited with nervous anticipation, and when her husband turned away to network with the senator and his wife, she made her move. Excusing herself from her half-hearted discussion on the state of the economy with old Judge Perkins, she edged out of the dining room and hurried down the dimly lit hallway, ignoring the condescending stares from Tom’s ancestors lining the walls in their expensive frames.

Knees quaking now she’d in
fact committed to her plan, Sara slid the key
borrowed
from his nightstand into the lock, entered his office and pulled the heavy oak door closed. Flipping on the lights she froze as his mahogany desk loomed out of the darkness. Forcing her stiff limbs to move across the room, the pungent scent of his tobacco violated her nostrils. She wanted nothing more than to run, fast and far. But couldn’t, not yet. Rolling his heavy leather chair out of the way, she slid her fingers across the keypad to wake his computer. Password protected, she’d expected that. Pulling a list from her pocket, she started at the top, working her way down.

Nothing.
Please, please, plea…

T
he screen changed, signaling success.

Yes.

Her eyes slid shut in a brief moment of gratitude. Knowing she had to hurry Sara grasped the thumb drive Fiona had smuggled in to her and plugged it in. A quick search brought no results.

Now what?

Frustrated, she entered random words from the password list.

Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Crap.

Covert stuff wasn’t her forte. S
weaty hand sticky on the mouse, her ragged breathing loud in the otherwise silent room, she keyed in one last word.

Phoenix.

The screen switched and a list of names, dates and times appeared. She’d done it. Excitement skittered up her spine. The download took the longest minute of her life. When it was done she shut everything down, replaced his chair and turned to leave. Then a muffled thud out in the hall just about stopped her heart. She wasted precious seconds staring at the closed door wishing herself invisible, before frantically searching for a place to hide. There were heavy velvet drapes covering the windows, they’d have to do. Praying her dust allergies wouldn’t give her away, she hid between the folds, clenching the edges of the fabric in her hands. Kicking herself seven ways to Sunday for leaving the key in the outer lock, she held her breath when the door opened, praying it wasn’t Tom.

It wasn’t.
Belinda, Jessica’s nanny, entered and sauntered across to the leather sofa along the opposite wall.

What is
she doing?

Searching among the pillows she smiled in triumph, pulling a pink bit of nothing
from between the plump cushions. She was just pushing the material into the cleavage of her skin-tight dress when Sara’s worst nightmare came true, Tom snarled from the open doorway.

“What
are you doing in here? I told you to go upstairs and find my wife. Our guests are preparing to leave.” He stomped across the room and snatched Belinda up by the arm, jerking her against his chest. “What are you hiding?” Pushing her hand away he shoved his fingers down the front of her dress and withdrew the scrap of cloth still peeking from between her breasts.

“Tom, ple
ase. I only wanted to find those before the staff or your wife found them. Let me go. You need to get back to the party. Everyone will be looking for you.” Though her voice betrayed her nervousness, she still flirted with him through her lashes.

He crushed
the silk, giving a sneering laugh as he bunched his hand into her blonde hair. “Do you really think I give a shit if anyone finds some thong? I’ve told you before not to come in here without me. I won’t tell you again.” His voice was a dark omen in the twilit room. He dropped his head to hers in a punishing kiss that swiftly changed to passion when Belinda’s arms and legs wrapped around him as if she was riding a stripper pole.

After long
minutes that seemed to last forever to Sara, she broke away with a sultry laugh and backed through the open door, her finger crooking a follow-me message. Tom hesitated, his gaze scouring the room before he slowly followed, closing the door behind him.

Sara remained hidden; her hear
t pounding. Even though Tom’s actions had long ago managed to erase any of the tender feelings they’d ever shared, it hadn’t made this scene any less repugnant.

Finally deeming it safe s
he inched her way back to the door, pressing her ear against the smooth wood.

Silence.

She turned the brass knob, grateful it slid open and hurried to her room, her mind already filled with the next step of her crazy plan.

Escape.

CHAPTER ONE

Tom Sheridan rubbed his aching temple, lifted the cup to his lips and grimaced at the disgusting taste of cold coffee. He glanced at the Cartier on his wrist and frowned. Eleven. He’d been working his way through the backlog of cases on his desk for hours. A sharp rap on the door had him sighing before barking an order to enter. Sam Willets, his head of security, stepped into the room. “Well, do you have some news?”

“No
, sir. We almost had ‘em in Chicago, but they slipped away. Since then she’s gotten smarter, must be using cash. No worries though, she’ll turn up.”

“Close the fuckin
g door.” Tom surged to his feet, his heavy chair toppling backward with a crash in the quiet room. “That bitch is going to cost me everything.”

Sam’s
green eyes flickered. He shifted back a step. “We'll get her. It’s only been a couple of months, Boss. How do you want it handled when we do?”

He knew he might have to get rid of them, Tom had ordered it before.
“You just worry about finding them. I'll
handle
them myself.” Stalking past the idiot, Tom moved to his liquor cabinet and poured a healthy glass of Glenlivet scotch. It slid down the back of his throat in a single hot shot. He hissed in a searing breath before pouring himself another. “Go now, and make sure you keep me updated. Take a couple more men with you, the more eyes looking the better.”

Nodding
, Sam left the room while Tom cradled his drink and brooded over the large painting filling the wall behind his desk. His wife's work, it depicted an old grey rustic cabin set against a backdrop of Glacier Mountains. A brook flowed through waving green grass. The colors were so vibrant he felt as if he were looking through a window at the water bubbling past. Could almost smell the wildflowers climbing the cabin walls.

How dare she thin
k she could walk away from him?

Nobody
walked away from him. Ever.

***

Her covers a twisted mess, Sara awoke and gazed through the partially open window of her small bedroom. The dreams always left her unsettled—a kaleidoscope of love, laughter, screaming, blood and death.

T
he sun cresting from the bosom of the Cascade Mountains caught her attention. She couldn’t believe almost a year had already passed since their arrival in Tidal Falls. The pinks and oranges lighting the distant sky highlighted the yard's lone fifteen-foot cherry tree. Filled with shiny red new leaves and delicate pink blossoms, it soothed her tired mind. Fresh cut lawns blended with the tang of lemony-scented roses, and the heady sweetness of night stock and lavender. An already warm breeze blowing through the screen stroked her cool skin and made the white eyelet curtains flutter.

Her eyes slid closed and she was just
relaxing back to sleep when a sudden hammering at her front door startled her out of bed. Her pulse pounding out an answering beat, she hurried to throw on her chenille bathrobe, and make her way through the still dim house. Grateful for the steel door, she peered through the little viewer. Tess Garrett, their next-door neighbor, landlady, and good friend, stood on the other side.

“
Tess, is there something wrong?” she called, releasing the deadbolt lock. Concern had her hurrying to open the door, and that’s when she noticed the stranger crouched behind Tess rubbing the broad back of a Shepherd. The man came to his feet, and she saw he towered several inches over her own head. She took a quick step back, a hand going to her uncombed hair and the other into the lapels of her robe, drawing them together.

“Sorry to
worry you this early, Sara dear. This is Nick, one of my tenants. He seems to believe his dog might have been in your new flower garden. I’ve already told him I didn’t think so, but he insisted on talking to you himself.” Tess’s acerbic tone relayed what she thought of him not taking her word on the subject.

“
I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. Jake here came home pretty mucked up this morning. I followed the tracks and they led me to here.” His voice rumbled through her chest, causing goose bumps Sara put down to being chilled.

“Mom
my, is everything okay?” Jess stumbled out of her room, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Everyt
hing’s fine, honey,” she soothed. The hound, hearing Jessica’s voice, whined.

Turning her attention back to th
e door, she tried not to stare, but holy cow, the man could have graced a magazine cover. The eyes looking down at her were the deepest cobalt blue she’d ever seen; with long dark lashes any woman would envy. His face was all angles and planes of perfection, except for an angry looking scar she could see peeking out from under the coffee brown hair at his temple. “No, I don’t think that could be possible. Our yard is fenced.”

“You might want to take a look
around. I can’t have him roaming the neighborhood destroying people’s property,” he said. His penetrating gaze made her nervous, causing her to shift her feet, which he immediately picked up on.

A long dark nose
showed in the gap. “Oh Mom, look at him.” Jessica moved to pet the animal before Sara could reach out to stop her.

“Jessica Anne Marie! That dog could be dangerous, get back.”

“He’s not mean Mom, look,” she giggled. “Please, can I pet him?”

“
Jake loves attention.” That raspy voice again.

T
he big brute wedged his face further into the opening, trying his level best to lick Jessica’s shining face as she gazed up at her Mom, and like an under-done cake, Sara caved. Catching Tess’s smiling nod, she opened the door a little wider, and grimacing a little at the wet dog smell she let the animal into the house.

“
I wanted to apologize for any destruction Jake’s done, and offer to pay for damages. I’m Nick Kelley, I’ve just moved in across the road.” He held his hand out.

Self-conscious, she lowered the hand trying to
tame her bedhead hair, but ignored his outstretched one in favor of tightening the belt on her robe.

“Look at young Jessica
.” Startled out of her preoccupation with the disconcerting man, Sara turned at Tess’s words to see her daughter’s arms wound tight around the dog, face buried in his damp fur. “You need one Sara; it’d be good—for both of you.”

As she lo
oked into Jess’s pleading eyes, she knew her friend was right. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Kelley, but I’m sure our garden is just fine. And if it isn’t, we’ll fix it. No worries.”

“
Well, if you change your mind, I’m more than happy to pay for the repairs. Jake sometimes thinks he’s still out in the field. We’re working on that though, aren’t we, buddy?” At the loving inflection in his master’s tone, Jake’s ears perked up and he peeled himself away from Jessica, returning to Nick’s side for a pat.

“He’s beautiful, mister.” Sara
sighed at the envy in her daughter’s tone, picturing previous conversations they’d had in the past. Jess had a way with animals, they seemed to sense how much she loved them. Too bad her father had never allowed her one of her own.

“Yes, he i
s. He’s also very smart.” Nick fondled Jake between the ears as he smiled at Jessica. “He likes little girls, too. Maybe one day if your momma says it’s okay, he can play with you for a while in your yard.” He turned his gaze on her and the glint in his eye had nothing to do with kids and dogs, and everything to do with getting to know her better.

“We’ll see. For now you better go get some clothes on kiddo, it’s almost time for school.”

“Oo…kay, bye, Jake. Bye, mister. Bye…”

“Now, young lady.”
Leaning over, she gave her a light swat on the butt at the same time kissing her daughter’s downy cheek. “Scoot.”

Jessica shrieked and the dog
woofed as he stood up, ears perked forward.

Nick held his hand up in a stop motion
, at the same time issuing the command, “Stay.” Jake sat on his haunches, looking to Nick for his next command. “Sorry, he’s trained to protect. It’s instinct.”

“No problem, he listens well.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve been together for a while now. We trust each other.” Nick dropped his hand and rubbed Jake’s side. “I’d better get going, he needs a run. It was nice to meet you—Sara.”

Heat rushed up her neck at the way he said her name.
“Mr. Kelley. Welcome to the neighborhood.” Tess gave her a big wink behind the man’s broad back as they turned to walk away. “See you later, Tess.” Sara scrunched her nose at her, and pushed the door closed, cringing at the Medusa image staring back at her from the hallway mirror.

R
e-engaging the deadbolt, she headed for a much-needed cup of morning coffee, stopping along the way to straighten the mussed-up hall runner. If it took an overgrown moose of a dog to bring some cheer back into her daughter’s world, it was well worth a little bit of chaos. The aromatic smell of strong coffee from the preset machine greeted her as she turned into her cute little kitchen. Sara reached for her favorite mug and poured herself a large cup, leaning against the countertop to survey the changes she and Jess had made to the room.

With Tess’s blessings,
they’d gotten rid of the outdated wallpaper and window hangings. Now the walls were a soft and warm butter yellow. White gingham curtains with colorful butterflies flirting along the edges dressed up the herb-lined windows. In the breakfast nook sat a white wooden table and chair set found at one of the many yard sales they’d attended since arriving in town. An assortment of spring flowers, poppies, daisies, and daffodils, all picked from their own yard finished the look. In the time they’d been here, they’d made a home for themselves. Jessica was coming out of her shell and becoming the exuberant little seven year old, she should be. As far as Sara was concerned that made the strain of the past few months fade away. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Tom’s goons managed to track them down, but shelved that worry for the moment. Right now she knew of a little girl that needed the tickle monster to pay her a visit.

***

Cutting across the quiet, tree-lined street to his little bungalow after a strenuous five-mile run, Nick noticed Sara’s neighbor, their landlady Mrs. Garrett, picking her newspaper out from the bush the paperboy had managed to hit. She gave him a little wave and turned when another neighbor, an old man, leaned over his fence to offer her a bouquet of fresh flowers.

Where was he,
Mayberry?

He’
d grown up in Bay Village—a rough neighborhood in Boston. You kept your eyes to yourself there or faced the consequences—about as different from this place as you could get.

Entering his kitchen through the ba
ck door, he breathed in a sigh of relief at the coolness against his overheated skin. He did a few deep bends and stretches to work out the kinks. Then, after first making sure Jake had water in his bowl, he moved down the hall, pulling off his shirt with a wince and letting it drop along the way. A shower would feel great right about now.

Back in the day
, he could have managed a run like that without even breaking a sweat. Now, not so much. After the accident his therapist had warned him he needed to learn some patience. These things take time, yada, yada. At least he’d managed to get himself off the pharmaceutical train. That was something. For the first while, after he’d returned stateside, they’d kept him so full of dope, he wasn’t sure which way was up. He knew it was for his own good, the scars across his back proved that, but he’d hated losing those days. Again. Everything from just before it happened, to his weeks of recovery—all of it a blur.

Fingering the jagged scar at his left temple he decided maybe that was a good thing.
Turning away from the dissatisfied guy staring at him in the mirror, Nick dropped his sweats and climbed into the tub. Turning the water as hot as he could stand it, he let it pour down his head and back, groaning as it relieved stressed muscles.

Soaping up, he ran his hands through his hair, then over
his chest and stomach. Thinking about his prickly new neighbor, Sara, he smiled. She’d been surprised to see him standing there with Mrs. Garrett this morning. He grinned, remembering her obvious discomfort. Her hair all mussed up, dressed in an old pink robe, her cheeks a matching color. He’d been trying to figure out a way to meet her ever since he’d moved in.

Good dog.

She reminded him of a spitting kitten with those flashing gold eyes and mussed-up sandy colored hair. That robe of hers had done nothing to hide her generous curves. The belt cinched tight under her breasts highlighting their fullness. Rounded hips and long slim legs that he’d caught glimpses of as she fidgeted. Her voice, husky from sleep, had been a siren’s call, making him think of her soft and tumbled in a bed—with him.

His soa
ped hands slid lower, cradling the hardened length of him. It been too long since he’d been with a female. That’s all this was, his body’s natural needs. He didn’t do family. Not anymore. A rough sound escaped as his body re-heated. He threw his head back under the streaming water, and his hand began to move faster and faster, searching for release. His mind’s eye brought her into the shower with him. Wet. Soapy. Sexy. And that’s all it took. His shoulders shook with the force of his release, his free hand grabbing onto the wet wall just as his knees loosened.