by R K Close
13
I said goodnight to Cole and Seth, then drove to Jessica’s house. I wanted to see that she was safe and somehow warn her about the danger without telling her how crazy it really was or exposing myself in the process.
But underneath all the excuses, I had to admit that I needed to see her, be near her—wanted to touch her. On the surface, she was the worst person I could have been insanely attracted to. Her profession alone meant the risk was tenfold.
Jessica didn’t even seem like my type, but seriously I had nothing to compare to, besides Harmony. Jessica Parker appeared to be career driven, obsessed with following a story, and fiercely independent. I respected these characteristics but felt less than adequate to be a part of her world.
What did I have to offer a woman like that? I’d only ever be a small-town firefighter, and I suspected she had big plans that did not include a guy like me. And that’s pretending that I don’t have a secret so big, she’d either exploit it for a sensational story or run screaming. Or maybe both.
Her front porch light was on, but the house was dark. Since it was still early, I parked my truck on the street and waited.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, a slick looking BMW pulled into her drive, and Jessica stepped out, carrying a briefcase, a purse, and what looked to be a stack of books. The driver did not get out of the car. Instead, they backed out of the drive and drove off before Jessica had even reached the door of her house.
I got out of my truck and walked across the lawn. Not wanting to frighten her, I made a coughing sound. She jumped and let out a high-pitched squeak anyway, but I didn’t expect her to spin around and threaten me with pepper-spray.
“Woah! Sorry, don’t shoot,” I said, still worried she might press that button.
She looked horrified when she recognized me. Letting out a long-exaggerated sigh, she slumped and leaned against the front door. “I almost sprayed you in the face. What are you doing sneaking up on me like that, Captain McKenzie?” she asked, emphasizing the formal title.
I smiled. “I guess I deserve that. I’m sorry about the other morning. And I’m sorry for startling you just now.” I reached for the pile of books, and she let me take them from her.
“Fine. Apology accepted. Now, would you like to come in and tell me why you’re here? I’ve had a rough day, and I could use a drink.” When I nodded, she turned around and finished unlocking the door.
She walked in and I followed her, looking around before turning to close the door. The house was old and needed some work. I assumed she was renting. The sparse furnishings were more modern, but somehow made the space feel warm and inviting. I also felt like a bull in a china shop. The room was covered in light pink and brown colors, and certainly had a feminine feel to it.
There were frameless paintings on canvas that covered just about every inch of wall space. Many were nature scenes such as, forests, streams, mountains, or the ocean. Some were portraits of different individuals with somber, smiling, or laughing faces.
At first, I thought she must collect art. But then I saw a painting of a white wolf with a forest in the background. The wolf seemed to be the focus of the picture. I leaned forward to read the artists name—J. Parker.
Most of the art was by J. Parker. As I studied the paintings more closely, I saw a theme in many of the nature scenes. A light-colored wolf appeared in random places, almost as an intentional signature. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as my wolf responded.
Jessica didn’t seem to notice me inspecting the art on her walls. I placed the books on the small kitchen table that must have doubled as her desk. It was covered with papers, markers, notebooks, and an iPad. The pizza box looked out of place. I’d guessed her to be a healthy eater.
Many women thought they had to starve themselves to look good, but I preferred natural curves, like Jessica’s.
Shaking my head to clear the thoughts that had already crossed my mind, I stood next to the table feeling awkward. This was a new thing for me. I liked being in charge and in control. This was like walking into a minefield. Every step was a risk.
Jessica had disappeared around the corner, which I could tell was the kitchen because of the small amount of counter and cabinets that I could see. I planned to ask her if she was the artist. Maybe it was a family member.
Jessica came out of the kitchen a minute later carrying two well-filled wine glasses and offered me one. I hesitated for a moment, but then took the drink from her.
She smiled a weak smile and walked over to the couch, where she tucked her legs under her and motioned for me to take the chair next to her. “Sit, relax. Lord knows I need to,” she said, taking a long sip of the red wine.
I’d already managed to drink enough to feel good. What was one more if it made her happy? Drinking alone sucked. I took a sip and realized it was good. I’d never been much of a wine drinker, preferring beer or whiskey.
“Who’s the artist?” I asked, motioning around the room.
“Do you like them?”
“They’re incredible,” I said honestly.
“I painted these. I have many more in the spare room,” she said, getting up. “Would you like to see?” she asked shyly.
“Yes.” I followed her down a short hallway and into a small room. Jessica flipped on the light, and I almost dropped the glass of wine. The room looked like an artist’s studio with paintings covering the walls, an easel, and a small table covered in trays, with globs of dried paint, and many tubes of paint that resembled toothpaste.
But those things I almost expected. The pictures themselves were what took my breath away and made my stomach clench. Every single painting or sketch featured a wolf or wolves. Many were white, or tan, but others were grey, brown, or black.
I couldn’t stop staring at the paintings. When I finally looked at Jessica, she seemed embarrassed. “I know. It’s a little obsessive, isn’t it? You should know that painting is therapy for me. It relaxes me, makes me happy. You know, a healthy hobby,” she said, looking around.
“Why do you paint so many wolves?” I could barely manage to ask.
“I don’t know. I love them. They’re beautiful to me. But mostly, because I’ve been dreaming of wolves since I was a child. I don’t know why. I just do. Did you know wolves mate for life?” she asked innocently.
“Yes, I do...know that,” I stammered as she moved past me and switched off the light.
I didn’t know what to say or what to think, so I followed her back into the living room, shocked into silence for the moment.
“Why are you here, Liam?” Jessica asked, looking tired.
“Why don’t you tell me why you need a drink.” I wanted to know what had upset her, but I was still trying to calm my racing heart and mind.
She studied me a moment. “Okay, I’ll share. That was my boss who dropped me off. Daisy was my ride, but she went home hours ago, while I stayed to have my ass chewed,” she said, then took another sip of wine.
“Why was your boss mad?” I asked, truly curious, and maybe deep-down thinking how I’d like to beat the crap out of anyone who gave her a bad day. These sorts of thoughts were messing with my mind. And now the paintings. What was happening here? Was Seth right about Jess and me?
“Did you see the news tonight?” she asked. I nodded. “Well, Mr. Boss, that’s what we call him, approved the report, but when he got heat from the mayor and the sheriff, he needed a scapegoat, so...” she trailed off, holding her wine with one hand and absently toying with the ends of her long blonde hair with the other.
She was turning me on and didn’t even have a clue. It was so bad that I couldn’t ignore Seth’s suggestion about her being my perfect mate. I didn’t buy it entirely, but the signs were beginning to overwhelm me.
“I take it they didn’t like what you implied?” I asked.
She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Seems like I may have ended my career before it ever really started. Might not be the worst thing.”
I
wondered what she meant by that. “I’m sorry,” I said. And I was.
She looked at me strangely, like she was trying to figure something out. “Your turn. Why are you here?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m here because I saw your story. I came to ask you to drop it. There are things happening that could get you hurt,” I said, leaning forward and resting my forearms on my knees.
“What do you know that I don’t, Liam?” She set her wine on the table and mirrored my position. Our faces were so close I could smell her perfume and her scent under that. She held my gaze, waiting for my reply.
“Just enough to know that you may be in danger. Some of it’s just a gut feeling, but...” I said, looking away from her intense gaze.
“And why do you care?” she asked. That was the million-dollar question.
“Maybe I’m a good person and don't want to see a beautiful woman get hurt,” I offered. Twelve inches was all that separated us.
“You think I’m beautiful?” she whispered. I was fighting to keep my wolf in check. All I could do was nod.
Jessica’s gaze dropped to my lips, and before I knew what she was doing, she’d slid from the edge of the sofa, taking my head in her hands, and kissed me long and hard. She tasted so good.
My arms slid around her and pulled her up with me as I stood, never breaking our connection. She melted to me like a second skin, and I knew there was something there. Nobody, not even Harmony, had ever felt like this. Jessica was a need, as essential as breathing. But what was I supposed to do about it?
I pulled back, and she seemed to compose herself a bit. I wondered if she regretted her bold move. I still held her arms, but she let her hands slide back down to her sides. “I’m sorry. I think the stress, the murders, and the strange dreams must be affecting me more than I realized. I don’t normally act like this,” she said, looking embarrassed. “I’m attracted to you, and maybe it’s just that I haven’t dated in over a year, or maybe it’s the situation—” I silenced her words with my lips.
I’d heard enough to know that she felt something for me like I did for her. Maybe not exactly like me, but it was something to hold onto.
“I...can’t get...involved with anyone...” she breathed in between kisses.
“Me...either,” I said, letting my lips travel down her neck.
Her head fell back, and I moved my fingers through her hair and held her head in that position while I continued my path down along her collarbone and back up her neck to claim her lips again. My wolf kept saying, mine, inside my head.
She pulled back and placed her palms on my chest to stop me when I would have continued. “Stop. I can’t. I mean, I don’t have casual sex. It’s a rule for me,” she said, looking conflicted.
I didn’t want to stop, but I was glad she had the willpower to pull the brakes, because I had none now. She’d removed my carefully constructed control with a single kiss.
“It’s okay. I don’t want casual sex with you,” I said, grinning mischievously. I watched her face as she tried to figure out what that meant, exactly. Then she smiled back shyly. She moved away from me then.
I reluctantly released her and returned to my chair. Jessica went back to her place on the sofa. I sipped the wine in the awkward silence that followed our brief encounter.
“So, are you going to tell me why you think I’m in danger? Or will I have to force it out of you?” she joked.
I watched her for a moment, my thoughts serious once again. “I don’t believe those campers died in a natural way,” I said, watching her expression.
“Murder isn’t natural, Liam.”
“It may not be a natural way to die, but it’s an expected part of the human history. One of the first sons of man killed his brother. It happens,” I offered, settling into the chair and throwing one arm around the back.
“So, what are you saying?”
What am I saying? “That the murderer isn’t human.”
“I don’t believe that an animal killed them, so you’ll have to give me more than that,” she said.
“I didn’t say an animal.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “But not human, either.”
Jessica suddenly seemed more interested and moved forward to sit at the edge of the couch. “What are you implying?”
“I’m not comfortable sharing too much more at the moment,” I said, wondering why the sudden change in her demeanor.
She gazed off, lost in thought for a moment.
“You said something about a dream or dreams, earlier. What did you mean by that?” I asked.
“That guy from the bar. I think he came to my house, but it may have been a dream.”
I was out of my seat and on my knees before her. She looked shocked. “Tell me everything that happened,” I demanded.
14
Jessica
Liam was on his knees so fast, I hardly saw him move before he was demanding that I tell him about my dreams. This made me regret mentioning the dreams in the first place. Especially because the very dreams he wanted to know about all ended with him...and kissing.
How much should I share? Liam seemed to have information and so did I. Maybe some give and take was called for.
“What are you getting so excited about?” His expression was severe and his blue eyes were so intense, the color almost seemed to flicker.
“Just tell me everything you remember,” he demanded. He seemed to realize how pushy he was being because he immediately soften his voice. “Please.”
“Okay, but can you sit over there? I’m not certain if I want to kiss you or nail you with pepper spray,” I said, only partially joking. He’d startled me when he reacted like that.
Liam smiled weakly, and color rose in his cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, he was surprised by his reaction as well. In some ways, it felt like I knew Liam, but in truth, I knew nothing about this man.
Liam slowly moved back into his chair but never took his gaze from me. His attention made me nervous for many reasons, not all bad.
Seriously, the man was like a ghost, with few public records. He could be anyone. Even serial killers could fake normal for a while. But I didn’t get the creepy vibe from Liam at all. In fact, I suspected he acted cold or indifferent to hide a gentler nature. I’d seen too many glimpses of the man behind the mask to ignore it.
Although there was nothing gentle in his kiss. That was raw and feral, and it turned me on more than I cared to admit. I was drawn to Liam in a way that I’d never felt with another man. I couldn’t put my finger on it, or explain it to myself, and explaining things was an essential part of my job.
“Well, to start with, that guy from the bar came to my house, but then the next thing I knew, he was gone, and I’d lost about an hour of time. It really shook me up. I was...am concerned that I may have had some sort of mental episode or maybe hallucinated the whole thing. Brain tumors can do that, you know. I interviewed a neurologist once,” I said, feeling embarrassed admitting the situation to him, or anyone for that matter.
I was surprised to see his face go from anxious to angry as I spoke. I tipped my head to the side. “Am I upsetting you? I’m sure it’s not really a brain tumor. Well, mostly sure. I tend to exaggerate things. It’s an occupational hazard,” I offered, trying to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere.
“Jessica, I believe he did come to see you, which confirms my suspicions. The fact that your report aired tonight, and he showed up before that, tells me his interest is either personal, or he’s trying to get to me through you,” Liam said, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “Neither possibility is good for you.”
“One, what would his personal interest be? And two, why would he think you would care about me?” I was trying to follow him, but none of this was making any sense. But then again, neither was finding a dead guy’s fingerprints on a wine glass. Although I did have a theory about that, I just needed to speak with Zoey to flesh it out.
Liam looked wary, cautious even. As if the man from
the first day we met had just shown up. I was even more convinced that Liam had secrets of his own. Were they from his past or something he was currently involved with? Did he have a secret wife? Or several secret wives? I had to rein in my wild imagination before it took me down a rabbit hole that led nowhere.
“I think he believes that you matter to me.” Liam’s gaze had me mesmerized. “I couldn’t guess at his personal interest, but you’re a beautiful woman, and you attract men like moths to a flame.” His words both surprised me and made my insides flip. “I can’t tell you how I know, but if you continue to report on this story, you could get hurt. And that would matter to me.”
I fought the desire to kiss him again, and it was a real effort. It was like my body needed to touch him. Of course, his words had their effect on me as well. Even more so, since Liam didn’t seem to be trying to seduce me any longer. He seemed sincere.
I made a calculated risk. “I stole his wine glass from the bar that night,” I blurted before I chickened out.
Liam’s eyebrows knitted together, then understanding entered his eyes. “And?”
“I had it dusted for prints in Phoenix,” I added. His gaze stayed steady, but it was like cautious expectation.
“And what came back?” he asked. I wondered if he meant to say, who instead of what.
“Funny you should ask. The prints on the glass were mine, Zoey’s, and a dead guy named Lorenzo. But not just any dead guy—one who died over twenty years ago. With mob ties, no less.” I crossed my arms, watching to see if any of this seemed surprising or not. Liam didn’t even blink, making me believe that he expected something like this.
When he said nothing, I added, “Oh, and his body was stolen from the morgue and never recovered. How’s that for creepy?” I reached down, picked my wine glass up from the table, and tossed the last of the red liquid down my throat.
“Why don’t you look surprised, Liam?” I asked, standing. Liam stood as well. He was at least six-foot-three, so I had to tip my head back to look at him.