ScandalandSin

by Lynn LaFleur

  His words pushed Alaina over the edge. The orgasm snaked up her legs, her torso, before centering in her core. Alaina moaned loudly and pushed two fingers inside her. The walls of her pussy pulsated with each contraction.

  She heard a grunt over the phone, then a muttered, “Fuck!”

  It took several moments for Alaina to find the strength to drag her hand to her stomach, and even longer for her breathing to slow. She could hear Rye’s heavy breathing and knew his climax had been as strong as hers.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “No. I have no feeling left in my body.”

  He chuckled, then his voice turned low and husky again. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

  “I want to watch you too.”

  “Then maybe we should do that the next time we’re together.”

  She swallowed hard. “Maybe we should.”

  “What time will you be here tomorrow?”

  “As soon as I can. Probably between eight and nine.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  *

  The old-fashioned ringtone on his cell phone seeped into Rye’s consciousness. He frowned and cracked one eyelid to look at the digital clock. 2:32. What idiot would call him at 2:32 in the morning?

  Pushing up to one elbow, Rye picked up his phone from the nightstand and gazed at the display. He blinked when he saw Brad McGuire’s number. Way too early in the morning for the sheriff to be calling.

  Unless something was wrong.

  Panic gripped Rye as he flipped open his phone. “Hey, Sheriff.”

  “You’d better get to Stevens House, Rye. There’s been a fire.”

  Completely awake, Rye sat up and turned on the lamp. “A fire?”

  “Yeah. The fire department put it out, but there’s damage in the kitchen.”

  “Damn it,” Rye muttered. A lot of supplies—including piles of two-by-fours—had been stored in the kitchen since that room wouldn’t be refurbished for several weeks. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll call Dax and Griff. You gonna call the owner?”

  “Not until I see what happened. She’ll have a thousand questions I can’t answer until I look over the place.”

  Rye shut the phone and tossed it on the bed. He made a detour to the bathroom long enough to throw water on his face and rinse his mouth before he dressed.

  He hurried through his house and out to his pickup. A fire at Stevens House. It had to be an accident, an electrical shortage or something. Arson wasn’t logical. Everyone who had met Alaina loved her. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her on purpose.

  Dax and Griff pulled up to the front of the house seconds after Rye parked. He waited for his brothers so they could go in the house together.

  Brad met them in the living room, along with Marc Bagwell, the fire chief. “What’s up, Marc?” Rye asked.

  “It started in the kitchen. We got here pretty fast so the damage is minimal…mostly smoke. Some of the lumber is scorched a bit on one end.”

  “Any idea how it started?” Dax asked.

  Marc rubbed his chin. “I’ll know more after I finish my investigation, but it looks like arson.”

  “Shit,” Griff muttered.

  “It would’ve been worse if it hadn’t been called in when it was,” Marc said. “A couple of teenagers looking for a place to park saw the smoke. The middle of the night on a dead end road means this house could’ve burned to the ground before we ever got here.”

  Rye and his brothers had served on the Lanville volunteer fire department for ten years. He knew all the firefighters personally and they did a damned good job. The fact that they’d stopped the fire with only minimal damage proved that.

  Jaxon Greene walked into the room, steno pad in hand. It didn’t surprise Rye to see a reporter from the Lanville Journal here. “Hey, Jax.”

  “Rye.” He nodded at the other two Colemans. “Michaela is taking pictures. She’ll have prints later today.”

  The object of their conversation walked into the room. Or Rye should say waddled into the room. He couldn’t help grinning. She and Jax were expecting twins in less than a month. He gestured toward her round stomach. “How do you get around that bump to take pictures?”

  Michaela rubbed a hand over her babies. “I get around just fine, thank you very much.”

  Jax slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her temple. Still grinning, Rye glanced at Griff. His grin disappeared. Griff stared at Michaela’s stomach, a look of longing on his face.

  Jana had miscarried two years ago, after she and Griff had tried for three years to have a baby. Seeing Michaela and Jax together had to bring back all the sadness from that time.

  Griff looked away, but not before Rye saw the anguish in his eyes. He wondered if his brother would ever get over losing Jana.

  “You call Alaina yet?” Dax asked.

  Rye shook his head. “I wanted to get a better idea of what happened before I called her. I’ll do that now.”

  He stepped outside for privacy. Hating to wake her but knowing he had to, he opened his cell and punched in her number.

  Three rings later, a groggy Alaina said, “There’d better be an emergency for you to call me at this time of the morning, Rye.”

  He winced at her choice of words. “Yeah, it’s an emergency. There was a fire at your house.”

  “What?” She no longer sounded the least bit sleepy. “At Stevens House?”

  “Yeah. The fire chief hasn’t finished the official investigation, but he told me it looks like arson.”

  “Oh God, Rye. Is it destroyed?”

  “No, only smoke damage and some minor burns on the lumber in the kitchen.”

  “Who would want to burn down my house?”

  “I don’t want to speculate on anything until Marc finishes his investigation. I think you’d better get here as quick as you can.”

  “I’ll throw on some clothes and be there in an hour.”

  “Drive carefully.”

  “I will.”

  Rye closed his phone and gripped it tightly. Anger swirled up inside him that someone would try to hurt Alaina this way. He swore whoever did this would pay with a lot of broken bones. Rye would make sure of that.

  Chapter Fifteen

  April 27, 1937

  Laura tried to sneak past me when she got home from her tutoring session with Patrick, but I stopped her. I noticed how she clutched her sweater together and wouldn’t look directly into my eyes. I followed my instincts, grabbed the edges of her sweater and yanked them apart. Laura’s dress was torn and missing two buttons.

  Before I could ask any questions, she said she’d tripped and fallen against a doorway with a loose nail. She’d accidentally caught her dress on that nail.

  I didn’t believe her. Laura is a horrible liar. He did something to her. I know it. What I don’t know is how to protect my sister.

  *

  Alaina accepted the coffee refill from Dax with a smile. He and Griff sat at the folding table in the dining room with her and Rye. They could’ve gone home and back to bed, yet had elected to stay and give her support.

  She’d liked Dax and Griff from the beginning. Now she admired them.

  “Can you still use the lumber?” she asked Rye.

  “Sure. We can cut off the part that was damaged by fire and water and use the rest. We’ll recycle the damaged part.”

  Alaina rubbed her forehead. She still had trouble believing someone tried to burn down her house. “I don’t understand why someone would do this.”

  Rye squeezed the back of her neck. “We’ll find out who did it, Alaina. I promise you.”

  “How? It could’ve been kids goofing off, or teenagers acting on a dare.”

  Griff leaned forward in his chair. “If that’s the case, they probably won’t be back.”

  “I hope not.” She set her coffee mug back on the table with a loud thunk. “It makes me so mad that idiots get off on hurting other people.
I just want to…hit something!”

  Dax held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me. I bruise easily.”

  She scowled at him while he grinned, then turned back to Rye. “Is there a wall somewhere I can hit with a mallet?”

  “Most of the walls have been torn down, except for the library. You can take a crack at it. George said those shelves would have to be replaced.”

  Rye’s eyes sparkled with humor, meaning he didn’t believe she’d actually take a mallet to the library wall. Well, she’d show him.

  The humor disappeared from his eyes when she stood. “Where are you going?”

  “To knock holes in a wall.”

  “Alaina—”

  Ignoring Rye, she took off for the library, stopping in the living room long enough to grab the large-headed mallet.

  There weren’t any overhead fixtures installed yet, but she didn’t need one. Dawn was breaking in the east, giving her enough light through the window to see. There was a two-foot section of wall between two bookcases. Perfect. She lifted the heavy mallet over her shoulder and almost fell backward.

  “Easy, slugger.” Rye caught her by the waist to keep her upright. “I understand your frustration, but don’t hurt yourself.” He took the mallet from her and leaned it against the wall, then flipped a hammer until the handle pointed at her. “Try this.”

  Alaina frowned. “That won’t make a big enough hole.”

  “So you make a big hole a little at a time. It’s better than throwing out your back.”

  He had a point. She snatched the hammer from his hand. “Thanks.”

  “Dax and Griff volunteered to make a run to Sonic for breakfast. You want something?”

  “A breakfast burrito.”

  “You got it.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Want some help with this wall?”

  Rye’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the display. “It’s my dad.”

  “Take it. I’ll be busy here a while.”

  He stepped out of the room. Picturing the idiots who had set fire to her house, Alaina lifted the hammer and hit the old plaster right between the bookcases. Bull’s-eye.

  She swung the hammer a couple more times, making nice holes in the plaster, before she felt the cold air wash over her. Alaina dropped the hammer and whirled around. Laura stood two feet away.

  The ghost was transparent, but Alaina could make out more of Laura’s features. She seemed to be easier to see each time she appeared. She stepped closer to the bookcase on Alaina’s right. Holding her hands in front of her body, she made two fists and pulled them close to her chest.

  “I don’t know what you want,” Alaina whispered.

  Laura pointed to the bookcase, then made the fists again and pulled them toward her chest.

  “You want the bookcase moved?”

  Laura nodded.

  “I can’t move it by myself.”

  Holding up one hand, Laura made a circle with her fingers and thumb. With her other hand, she pushed against the circle with one forefinger, as if she were pressing a button.

  “There’s a button that moves the case?” Alaina asked.

  Laura nodded again.

  “Where?”

  The ghost disappeared.

  “Laura, come back!”

  No cold air and no ghost. “A button that moves the case,” Alaina muttered. “How am I supposed to find a button? And will it still work if I do find it?”

  Logically, it would be right in the middle of the case so someone could get to it easily. But if someone wanted it to be hidden, they’d put the button up high or down low. Alaina couldn’t reach the top shelf without a stepladder, so decided to start at the bottom. Dropping to her knees, she felt all along the bottom shelf and up the sides.

  Brown work boots came into her line of vision. Alaina looked up long legs covered with denim—stopping for a moment at the fly, which she easily recognized—and up Rye’s torso to his face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for a button.”

  His gaze passed over her body. “You’re wearing jeans and a T. You don’t have any buttons.”

  Alaina sat back on her heels. She’d debated with herself about mentioning Laura’s ghost to Rye. Now seemed like a good time to tell him. She wiggled one finger at him, silently asking him to come closer. He dropped to the floor next to her.

  “What’s up?”

  “First, this is going to sound really weird. Please hear me out and let me finish.”

  “Sure,” he said, although he looked confused.

  “Do you remember when I felt cold air in the turret?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It happened again Monday, right before I saw the ghost of Laura Cummins.”

  Rye’s eyes bugged out. “The what?”

  “I saw the ghost of Laura Cummins. She pointed to the window seat. That’s how I knew where to find the painting. She appeared again a few minutes ago. She can’t talk, but told me through hand gestures that this bookcase moves by pushing a button. So I’m looking for the button.”

  Rye rested his elbow on his upraised knee and rubbed his mustache. He didn’t look at her.

  “I know how crazy this sounds. It sounds crazy to me when I say it, and I experienced it. But, Rye, I swear to you I’m telling the truth.”

  He blew out a heavy breath. “Alaina, I’m sure you believe you’re telling the truth, but—”

  “I’ve seen her three times. The first time I couldn’t tell for sure who she was, but her image becomes clearer each time she appears.” She reached over and clasped his hand. “Rye, she’s trying to tell me something. She helped me find that painting. Maybe there’s another painting behind this bookcase.”

  “How do you know it’s Laura Cummins?”

  “I’ve seen pictures of her. I did a lot of research when I decided to buy this house.” She squeezed his hand. “You have to believe me.”

  “I want to. I really do, but I don’t believe in ghosts.”

  “Then how would I know about the button that moves this bookcase?”

  “You haven’t actually found a button yet, have you?”

  “No, because you interrupted me.” She understood why he didn’t believe that she’d seen a ghost, but he could at least keep an open mind. “Work with me here, Rye.”

  “You’re asking a lot, Alaina.”

  “I know that.” If he couldn’t trust her totally yet because of Alesia, at least he could trust that she told him the truth about seeing Laura’s ghost. “Help me look for the button. If we find it, will that convince you I really saw a ghost?”

  Without answering her question, Rye stood and began to feel along the edge of the bookcase. Alaina returned to the bottom shelf, running her fingers slowly along every part of it. Nothing.

  “I think I found something,” Rye said.

  Alaina scrambled to her feet. Rye had his hand behind an ornamental facing at the top of the bookcase, a place she wouldn’t have been able to reach without a ladder. “Is it a button?”

  “Feels like an indentation.”

  A low rumbling sound came from the bookcase. Alaina stepped back, unsure what would happen next. Rye moved beside her. The case shook, hinges screeched, then it slowly swung away from the wall until it stood at a forty-five-degree angle.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “Laura was right.”

  “I’ll get a flashlight,” Rye said, not acknowledging her comment about the ghost.

  Alaina waited, bouncing up and down on her toes, for him to come back. Finding the hidden space proved she wasn’t lying about seeing Laura Cummins’ ghost. Rye had to believe her now.

  He returned with a large flashlight. “Stay behind me.”

  She had no problem with that. If there was something icky behind that bookcase, she’d rather Rye find it first.

  Narrow shelves filled the space. There were also cobwebs and mice droppings, and something square wrapped in burlap sitting on one of the top shelves. He took it from the shelf a
nd handed it to Alaina. Carefully, she unwrapped the burlap to find another painting similar to the one she’d found in the turret. It depicted a different part of the riverbank, one she didn’t recognize.

  “That looks like Mac Morrison’s place,” Rye said. He pointed to an old barn in the background. “That barn fell down about ten years ago.”

  “It’s wonderful.” She looked at the signature in the bottom, but couldn’t make out a name. It looked like just a series of loops. “I wonder if Bella knows who painted it.”

  “She hasn’t lived in this house in decades. After her father died, she rented out the house. There’s probably been at least twenty people who’ve lived here. Any of them could’ve hidden the paintings.”

  Alaina stared at the beautiful picture another moment before looking at Rye. “Do you believe me now?”

  He rubbed his mustache again, a gesture Alaina now recognized as when Rye was considering his words. “I want to say no, but this is pretty heavy evidence.”

  “What’s heavy evidence?” Dax asked behind them.

  Alaina turned to see Dax and Griff, both holding large Sonic sacks. “I’ll tell you over breakfast. I’m starved.”

  *

  Whether or not Alaina had actually seen Laura Cummins’ ghost, she believed she did. Rye unwrapped his breakfast burrito. He decided to remain silent and let her explain the ghost and the paintings to his brothers.

  “You’ve seen her three times?” Dax asked.

  Alaina nodded. “I’ve felt cold air flow over me five times, but I’ve actually seen her three times. I think she tried to materialize those other times, but couldn’t for some reason.”

  “You bought a haunted house.” Dax grinned. “Cool.”

  “We don’t know it’s haunted,” Rye said, trying to be the voice of reason. “We’ve never heard any stories about a ghost sighting here.”

  “Maybe that’s because no one told us.” Griff wiped his hands on a paper napkin. “Most of the people in Lanville know about our family’s history. There could have been all kinds of things that happened in this house that didn’t get back to us.”

  Rye unwrapped his second burrito. “No matter our history, we would’ve heard about a ghost in this house. Someone would have mentioned it.”