Echo

by Anne Conley

  Simon tried to see it from her point of view—a massive, blocky structure, minimalist in design, cold exterior, what looked like cinder blocks but were actually some sort of Italian concrete. His mother had prided herself on having it designed by the famed Austin architect Dick Clark, and the kitchen had been done by local gourmet chefs. It was covered in windows which, from the outside, were nothing short of pretentious. From inside, they offered breathtaking views of the hilly countryside, something Simon liked the most about the cold home.

  It had been his mother’s pride, her father’s affection for her, and Simon’s bane. When he’d left the force in San Antonio, it had sat, waiting for him. With getting Pierce Securities off the ground, he’d had neither the time nor the energy to put it on the market. So he’d moved in.

  Dropping her bags in the entryway, Lacie looked at it all, gape-jawed.

  He sighed. “You want a glass of wine?” Walking around her to the kitchen, he bent to the wine fridge and got out a bottle of Chardonnay. “Chateau Montelena 2010 okay?”

  She pressed her lips together in thought. “I’m sure. If it costs more than fifteen dollars a bottle or doesn’t come in a box, I’m clueless.” She accepted the glass from him and watched as he reached under the sink for the scotch and poured himself a half a glass. “Simon, I suddenly feel as if I never knew you. It’s a bit discombobulating. You’ve been following me around for weeks and you’re a total stranger.”

  He sat at the kitchen table—some modern, minimalistic thing that, under the untrained eye, would look like nothing short of laminate and aluminum, but Simon knew his mother had paid a hefty price for it.

  “What do you want to know?” He spread his hands in a gesture of openness but was afraid of the questions she would ask. He was afraid he would answer them all.

  God, he wanted to trust her, but it went against everything he’d taught himself for the last five years.

  She waved her arms around, sloshing a bit of wine, but Simon didn’t care. “Where did all this come from? How did you end up here? Doing what you do?”

  He took a deep breath and started talking. Lord knew why he was telling her any of this except, after the morning she’d had, he felt the desire to comfort her, but he couldn’t do it the way he wanted to. So he would answer her questions.

  “My great-grandfather was an oil baron—one of those stereotypical Texans with all the oil money. My grandparents invested wisely and started Pierce Enterprises. My father kept up the tradition and groomed Quinten, Bonnie, and me to follow in his footsteps. Of course, none of us wanted to do that. I didn’t have a knack for the business aspect of it. All I ever wanted to be was a cop. Some sick, hero fantasy of mine.” He offered her a self-effacing grin. “Quinten compromised with a degree in law, but I don’t think he ever intended to use it much. Mother had grand plans of him being a politician, but she died right after he took the bar exam. Bonnie went to school for marketing, which mother saw as a superb choice for an event planner of her caliber. Mother threw the best parties here.”

  “I imagine with those views, she didn’t have to do much decorating,” Lacie mused, looking out the window at the rolling vistas of Texas Hill Country. Turning back to Simon, she asked the question he dreaded. “Why did you get out of the force?”

  Hedging, he shrugged. “Most cops pull retirement after twenty years.”

  “So, you’re what? Forty?”

  Grinning in relief he’d dodged that one, he said, “Forty-two. How old are you?” He was guessing thirty but would never say that aloud. His mother had taught him better than that.

  “Thirty-four.”

  “You take good care of yourself. I never would have guessed.”

  “Likewise.” She avoided looking at him, and Simon realized they’d moved into awkward territory.

  “Well, there are five bedrooms. Mine’s over there.” He pointed to his room. “That one doesn’t have a mattress, so you can choose from these.” Simon stood to lead her to the spare rooms. “The views are excellent everywhere, so you can do yoga and pretend you’re in the woods, or you can swim in the pool if you like. There are some trails cut through the woods down there, but please don’t go on them without me. I’ve got some pretty tight security here but don’t want to take any chances. We can watch a movie later if you want. I’m going to go see what Miss Irene left for us to eat.”

  “Miss Irene?”

  Simon dipped his head, looking at his feet. “My housekeeper. She’s been with the family for a century it seems. I couldn’t let her go after Mom died.”

  “I see.” Lacie nodded.

  “Besides, she’s a great cook. I’m sure she left us some comfort food in the fridge. Make yourself at home, and I’ll get something heated up. We can eat on the couch and watch something stupid and mindless.”

  “Sounds heavenly.”

  Simon went about his self-appointed tasks, trying desperately not to think about how perfect it was to have Lacie in this house. With him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning, Lacie indulged in a sit-down bath in the ridiculous bathtub at Simon’s house after the grueling three-mile run through the hills of his neighborhood. The bathtub, like everything else in Simon’s house, didn’t fit the man at all. It was a huge bowl in the middle of the room, but the slopes were inviting, and Lacie couldn’t resist a soak. She felt like she deserved it. Besides, it was equipped with the finest of bath salts, stuck together in a clump with age, but they were still usable.

  Yesterday had been wonderful. After the initial awkwardness of Lacie’s questioning why he lived in a house like this—which, in retrospect, had probably been really rude of her—they’d settled into a comfort they hadn’t found before. He’d heated up the French dip sandwiches along with some of the best mac and cheese Lacie had ever had, and they ate in the living room and watched stupid comedies all day long.

  Then, they’d ordered pizza and done it some more.

  Sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, food spread out between them, it had been an awkward comfort that was difficult to explain. Simon was clearly setting boundaries between them but sending her heated looks when he thought she wasn’t looking. Even with all the mixed signals, she appreciated the effort to distract her from whatever was going on.

  Simon didn’t seem like he belonged here. It was obvious this house wasn’t of his choosing. He moved with a deference to his surroundings that told her his parents had most likely moved in after he’d moved away to start his own adult life, which only made her wonder where he’d grown up. But as much as she wondered, Lacie knew he wouldn’t let her in. Not that it mattered. He was protecting her, plain and simple, and since their neighborhood had been compromised, it only made sense to move her here, right? Although, a motel seemed like it would be less personal, less intimate. And she liked the intimacy of his things, even if they weren’t really his.

  But this house was insane. How had a guy from riches become a cop? Simon clearly had something in his past that was keeping him from acting on this insane chemistry between them.

  Unless it was all on her side and he felt nothing? Was this one of those situations of intense danger that spiked adrenaline and made her feel things she wouldn’t normally feel? She eyeballed Simon on the other side of the couch, appearing deceptively casual in jeans and a t-shirt, his dark hair tousled, one shock of it falling over his eye. He looked incredible. His muscles were relaxed for once, as if he finally felt like he didn’t have to be on high alert at all times. Reclining on the sofa, his ankle crossed on one knee, arm tossed over the back of the sofa, he was mouthwatering.

  Yeah. He would still be attractive to her even if she didn’t have adrenaline constantly pumping through her.

  Before they had gone their separate ways to bed, Lacie had borrowed Simon’s phone and called Trent. When he didn’t answer, like she was sure he wou
ldn’t, she broke up with him in a voicemail message.

  “It’s Lacie. I don’t think things are going to work out between us anymore. This shouldn’t come as a shock to you, but I wanted you to know I don’t have any hard feelings or anything. I just want someone who actually wants to answer the phone when I call. Talk to you later, Trent. Bye.”

  When she’d hung up, Simon was standing there, staring at her with his jaw clenched so tightly she could see his temples pulse. She dropped the phone in his hand and went to bed, not knowing what to say.

  Today, they were going out on his family’s boat at Lake Travis. It was another relic from his parents, one he shared with his brother and sister. Lacie could only assume it was as opulent as the house and looked forward to another day with Simon. Even as closed off as he was, she was still seeing a different side to him in these surroundings, and she liked it.

  Being out in the open on the lake was a little bit daunting, but holing herself up inside her house hadn’t changed anything either. Lacie understood this whole trip was a distraction from the men who’d targeted her, and she appreciated it. She hadn’t been to the lake in a long time, whereas she used to go all the time. It seemed a little weird to go now, but at the same time, she was excited about a day in the sunshine. She needed the vitamin D.

  She changed into her two-piece bathing suit, a purple bikini she wore proudly. Lacie worked hard to have this body in her thirties, and she was going to show it off. She didn’t have to be a kindergarten teacher today, so long, easy-to-move-in skirts weren’t on the agenda.

  Besides, she wanted to see if she could get Simon to let loose a little. She felt safe with him, and the prospect of seeing him in a bathing suit wasn’t bad either. He might even smile at her.

  She pulled up a pair of baggy, cut-off shorts and grabbed a loose-fitting tank top, prepared for a day of sun on the lake. Tossing her bag with sunscreen and a towel over her shoulder, Lacie slid on her sunglasses and declared herself ready to go.

  Simon was waiting in the entryway for her, raising his eyebrows at her appearance. He locked up behind them and led the way to the Jeep, opening her door to allow her to slip into the seat before walking around and sliding in next to her.

  “This is supposed to be a great day, weather-wise, but it’s probably going to get really hot on the lake. You ready for it?”

  “God, you have no idea how much I need this.” She may have moaned a little bit more than she wanted to, but Simon just grunted as he started the Jeep and pulled out of the garage. The truth was, she wanted to be alone on a boat in the middle of a lake with Simon more than ever.

  No, she didn’t. Sure, she enjoyed his company when he was being affable, but she was a job. This was a job. Lacie needed to remember that. This trip was a distraction from horror. Nothing more. It was a generous offer to keep her occupied with something besides movies and food. Still, she couldn’t quell her the butterflies in her tummy.

  They hit the interstate and maneuvered through light Sunday morning traffic before taking the exit to Lake Travis. Going down what looked like a seldom-used road, Simon wound his way through meandering hills to a clearing near a small but fastidiously maintained marina.

  “There she is.” He pointed to the biggest boat, a yacht by any standards, which wasn’t surprising.

  “She” was sleek, white, and massive for Lake Travis, unless it was one of those rental party boats. Lacie walked up the pier leading to the boat with the name Maureen. She gestured to it and looked at Simon for clarification.

  “My mother,” he said simply, as if that’s all the explanation she needed. Then he hollered up at the man standing above where the cabin was. “Hey, Captain!”

  “Simon! I thought you’d given up boating for the greener stuff,” the older gentleman called down.

  “Naw, just got busy. Needed to get away for the day and thought of you.” Simon’s easy manner was at direct odds to what she’d seen the past week, almost as if he were relieved to have some company.

  Lacie followed him on board, allowing him to help her up, and marveled at the compact luxury. With clean lines and dark wood, the chrome gleamed, and the entire vessel screamed money. Such a far cry from the taciturn, almost grouchy man it belonged to.

  “Lacie, meet Captain Hodge. Captain, this is my escort for the day, Lacie.” Simon turned to Lacie. “The galley’s below, Hodge’s wife usually stocks it with everything anybody could ever think they might need. You can lounge around up on the flybridge or at the front of the boat. Hodge has always let me drive when I get on board, so that’s where I’ll be. But he can get you anything you need.” With that, he climbed the ladder to the upper deck and settled himself behind the wheel.

  She’d been dismissed. Lacie had thought she’d get to spend the day with Simon, but apparently, the forty-foot boat was big enough for him to avoid her. Fine. She turned to Hodge, who was smiling at her.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, embarrassed, but the man took it and turned it, kissing the back of it.

  “It’s very nice to meet you as well. I’ll be around, checking on things. Holler if you need me.” Turning to climb the ladder, he said something about pretty ladies that was lost in the wind.

  Shrugging, Lacie went below to undress. She folded her shorts and tank top into a neat pile before taking her bag up to the front of the boat. If she couldn’t get some company, she’d get some darn sun.

  Simon was losing his damn mind. As soon as he saw Lacie in those itty-bitty shorts, he knew he wouldn’t survive today with her, so he’d marked his boundaries. He would drive Maureen, and Lacie would sun herself. Away from him.

  Of course, she didn’t choose the flybridge, where he wouldn’t have to see her. No, she’d chosen the front of the boat, where her curves and that tiny fucking purple bikini were on display for all the world to see.

  Not that he could take his eyes off of her.

  Simon watched as she’d slathered lotion on her skin, rubbing it in slow circles across the pale flesh he imagined raking his teeth across. He’d seen her lay down on her stomach, piling all that glorious hair in a messy bun on top of her head, then remember something. Christ, she’d gone on all fours to dig around in her bag for something to swipe across her lips. He couldn’t focus on one single aspect of her gloriousness—her lush lips, her tight ass that needed a spanking for killing him like this, or that shadowed curve dipping under the bikini bottoms, alluding to the heaven he longed to sink his cock into.

  “Somebody’s smitten,” Hodge spoke softly at his side. Simon turned to the man—more of a father to him than his own had been—while he adjusted his pants.

  “Maybe,” was all he would allow. Truth was, he was totally twisted. Hopelessly, irrevocably twisted in this woman who’d wormed her way under his skin and wasn’t letting go.

  A low chuckle was Hodge’s response, and Simon let it go. He wasn’t having a conversation about Lacie today. He was here to blow off some steam.

  Turning the wheel toward the main part of the lake, he let loose on the throttle and tried to enjoy his day as best he could with the woman on deck distracting him mercilessly with every breath she took.

  They did a couple slow tours through the tributary leading to the main part of the lake, drove around the edges to see houses on the shoreline, then puttered back down the tributary. There were waterfalls and lush landscaping. If Simon didn’t know he was in Central Texas, he’d think it was some tropical paradise.

  Simon tried to get lost in the waters of his childhood, but the temptress in the purple bikini was making it difficult. She’d fallen asleep, and he was worried she’d get sunburnt, but he choked at the idea of calling out to her. Finally, when he’d had enough, he sent Hodge down to her to tell her to reapply her sunscreen or go inside. He was torn on which he preferred.

  A ragged sigh escaped him when sh
e dug her sunscreen out of her bag, smiling at Hodge, and began to reapply, the old man sticking around to rub it on her back.

  Thank fuck his phone rang, distracting him from what was undoubtedly jealousy at a man in his sixties.

  “Hello,” he snarled.

  “Cheery. I like it.” It was Dex, and Simon straightened himself out—work mode engaged. “Amber got me the transcripts of the questioning of the guys taken into custody for Miss Hill’s attacks. Only two, but I emailed them to you.”

  Dammit. He hated looking at shit on his phone, but that’s what he was going to have to do today if he was going to get anything done besides fantasizing about Lacie. And fuck if that’s what he shouldn’t be doing. He had to remind himself this was an outing to take her mind off the dangers she was in.

  “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

  When Hodge came back up, he took over the wheel as Simon cursed his fat fingers and tiny phone while trying to navigate through the files Dex had sent.

  Not very enlightening.

  Dan Simmons was a regional manager of a popular shoe store chain. He had two kids and was separated from his wife. He was close-lipped about motives and plans for Lacie after he’d drugged her, not that Simon needed a vivid imagination for that shit. Simmons drove a fancy car but lived in a modest apartment. He made money but not a ton of it, and he visited the slot machines in Oklahoma once a month. No priors, which meant he hadn’t been caught before.

  Cruise Vega owned a sports bar in town, lived alone, never married, and no kids. Also close-lipped about motives and plans after he’d broken into Lacie’s window. Tons of tattoos but none were gang-related.

  Damn. Nothing there. No motive, no priors, nothing linking them to Lacie in any way.

  After taking the wheel back from Hodge, Simon half-watched the water and half-watched Lacie while he rolled the facts of the case around in his head, coming up with nothing. No links, no ties, just a jumble of puzzle pieces he longed to connect to Jonas but had no idea how.