TRIGGERED: A Romantic Suspense Bundle (5 Books)

by Evie Nichole

  “Are all of these yours?” Selene asked, sliding from the front seat.

  “Well, that one, the one you already rode in. The coupe is mine, and the bike.”

  “And the other two?”

  “Betty and Robert’s.”

  “Oh, I thought they were off today.”

  “Oh, they are. They live here.”

  Selene nodded. She wasn’t sure why she would have thought anything differently. The super-rich usually did have live-in help. She wandered to the bike. It was in pristine condition. Not a scratch or dust anywhere to be seen. She turned her face up to him, smiling.

  “I must say, I didn’t expect you to be a motorcycle kind of guy.”

  Barkley laughed heartily. “No one else did either.”

  “Do you ride often?”

  “Not as much as I would like. I took it out six or seven times during the warm months.” He looked down at her. “Would you like to ride sometime?”

  “Heck, yeah!”

  “Good. I’ll make it happen.”

  I bet you will.

  “Come on. I have chili on the stove.”

  “Let me get my stuff.”

  Selene opened the passenger door and pulled a premade taco dip from the front seat with a bag of tortilla chips.

  “Perfect!” Barkley exclaimed and took the items from her.

  “So, you made chili?”

  “Not me. Betty insisted she start it for me before she went to church this morning. My only job is stirring.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  “Hey, I cook! A little.”

  Barkley led her through a door, which opened into a washroom. A large industrial-sized washer sat next to a dryer of the same capacity. There was large sink and a shoe rack under pegs for jackets. The room smelled like bleach and detergent. Clean smells that Selene liked.

  Barkley continued on, up three steps, and went directly into the kitchen.

  “How many rooms are in this monstrosity?”

  “Well, there’s the laundry room, kitchen, dining, entertainment room, a formal living room, study, my office, two half-baths, three full, and five bedrooms. So…” He counted on his fingers. “Seventeen.”

  “My God. I grew up in a six-room house.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really,” Selene replied dryly. “Living room, bathroom, kitchen, and three tiny bedrooms.”

  “One bathroom?” Barkley looked sick.

  “Yep.”

  “How many of you were there?” He grabbed a long-handled spoon and began stirring within a large pot. The smell was spicy, comforting.

  “Four. Well, four to begin with. My dad left when I was about twelve.”

  “Oh.” Barkley frowned into the pot. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah.” Selene wished she hadn’t of brought it up.

  “Do you ever see him now?”

  “No.” She didn’t offer anymore, keeping her face neutral. Eric and her father were two people she did not care to discuss.

  Barkley wasn’t put off. “Was he not very nice?”

  Selene was surprised when her mouth began to move without her permission. “He was a drunk. Probably still is. There was no love lost between us.”

  Barkley watched her for a moment, a barely noticeable nod moving his head. “So you have a sibling?”

  “A brother.” Selene looked him in the eye. “Had a brother.”

  “Did something happen to him?”

  Selene hesitated. The darkness was creeping in. So much darkness to fight against. She grew weary of it.

  “Suicide,” she whispered.

  Barkley leaned over the pot. “What did you say?”

  Selene cleared her throat. “Suicide. He killed himself when I was sixteen.”

  “Oh my God.” Barkley moved around the island to stand in front of her. “That’s awful.” His eyes searched her face. “How old was he?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “Were you…I mean did he…?”

  Selene felt the familiar prick of tears. If she cried in front on this man, really cried, she was going to go home.

  “He was at home. I found him when I got home from school.”

  Barkley grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. His strong arms encircled her, and Selene felt a large hand smoothing her hair.

  “That’s so terrible. I wish you hadn’t had to see that.”

  Selene hadn’t felt that safe in years. She wanted to stay just like that with Barkley, but her mind was screaming about crossing lines, professional protocol, and her own insanity. She reluctantly listened, stepping out of his embrace.

  “It was a long time ago. It’s fine.”

  Barkley pursed his lips. “Did you see anyone?”

  “You mean like a counselor?”

  Barkley nodded.

  “My mother had our priest counsel us, but I all I took away from it was that Thomas had committed a cardinal sin, for which there is no forgiveness, and he is most likely going to burn in hell.”

  Barkley’s sick look returned, a hand moving slowly to his mouth. “What?” he said incredulously.

  “Yep. Father Timmons was most certain of this.”

  His face was tightening into anger. He moved back around the island. “That’s why I don’t fool with the church!”

  Selene lifted one shoulder, taking a seat on the opposite side of the island. “My mother is a devote Catholic. The church doesn’t bother me.”

  Barkley’s eyes blazed. “How can you say that, after what that man told you?”

  “It’s his opinion. I have my own.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Selene couldn’t understand his passion about the subject. He certainly had empathy for her and what she had been through, but his hatred, and hatred was the best word she could think of, of the church seemed out of place. She hoped this was an opportunity to dig a little deeper into his wife’s disappearance.

  Selene traced an invisible design on the granite counter top. “So what happened? Did a minister have something negative to say about your wife’s disappearance?”

  Barkley glared into the pot, his hand moving in a continuous counter-clockwise circle. It took him several seconds to answer.

  “Betty thought it may help to have her minister visit me. My family isn’t religious, never has been. I didn’t care either way. He comes here full of condolences and what not, but his second visit…well, let’s just say he had a mouthful for me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like there was darkness in my home. That I had been too focused on money and had neglected my duties as a husband.” Barkley lifted his glare to Selene. “I told him to get the hell out of my house.”

  “Wow. How did Betty take it?”

  “I gave him my own mouthful and found another church.” Betty smiled sweetly. “Which I like much better.”

  Barkley’s face softened. “Now, what are you doing down here? I told you I could handle this.”

  “I smell a chili which is about to burn.” She took the spoon from Barkley and turned the burner down. “You can’t let it simmer with heat too high.”

  “Ah, Betty to the rescue again.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Gisele.”

  “Thanks. Sorry I had to leave early last night.”

  Betty’s smile hadn’t faltered. “Things happen, dear. There’s a whole half of a pie waiting for you.”

  “Thanks, Betty.”

  “Oh, and don’t tell Barkley, but I made a cheese ball platter for you two, as well.”

  “I’m standing right here.”

  Betty winked at Selene.

  Barkley’s phone rang, and Betty moved to the wall mount and answered with a professional, “Bailey residence.” She handed the phone to Barkley.

  Barkley turned away and began speaking in muffled tones. He turned to Selene, his face red. “Would you mind if Tom and Chuck join us?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You should,�
�� Betty mumbled.

  Selene snickered, coughing to cover it up.

  “Sorry,” Barkley apologized, returning the cordless phone to the wall mount. “Tom and Chuck like to come on opening day. It’s kind of like a tradition.”

  “I don’t mind, really.” Selene reassured him. “I guess they’ll only ogle for a few minutes.” She winked at Betty.

  “Don’t count on that!”

  “Come on, they aren’t bad guys. Just confused and lonely these days.”

  Betty raised her eyebrows and stepped away from the stove. “I tell you what I’m going to do. Since you have extra company coming, and messy company at that, I no longer trust you in my kitchen! I’ll have your snacks and things set up in the entertainment room no later than half time.”

  “Betty,” Barkley began. “It’s your day off.”

  “You can pay me.”

  He laughed heartily. “And so I will.”

  Selene was again amazed at the warmth between the two of them. Barkley hugged Betty from behind. She shooed him away, exclaiming how she had to save the nearly ruined chili.

  Barkley motioned for Selene to follow him with a quick jerk of his head.

  “We can set up one of the long tables from my birthday party. I keep them in a closet off of the entertainment room.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Yeah, I guess…” Barkley froze as they entered the room. Ruth Bailey was standing in the center of the room with a wadded tissue in her hand, her overnight bags stacked neatly at her feet. She lifted red-rimmed eyes to her son.

  “He’s really gone and done it this time, I’m afraid.”

  Selene stole a glance at Barkley. His face was turning an alarming shade of crimson.

  “What are you talking about? And why are you not already back home?” The last two words came out like a bark. Selene and Ruth both jumped. Selene hadn’t seen this side of Barkley yet. A rage burned behind his green eyes. It poured an ounce of doubt for her concerning his innocence in his wife’s case.

  “Home?” Ruth’s eyes became large, tears welling and threatening to spill. Makeup streaks told the tale that she had already been crying. Selene couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She moved to Ruth, placing one hand on her elbow, and one just under her wrist.

  “Come on, Mrs. Bailey. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you some water.”

  Ruth looked at Selene with confused shock. She didn’t argue, a feeble nod was her response, allowing Selene to navigate her to one of the overstuffed couches.

  Selene looked at Barkley, who now stood with his hands on his hips. He hadn’t moved an inch. The red still stained his perfect face.

  Selene moved past him and hissed. “She’s your mother!”

  He responded in kind. “She’s the devil!”

  Selene narrowed her eyes over her shoulder and left the room. When she entered the kitchen, Betty looked up and smiled sweetly.

  “Come looking for a soda?”

  “No. Mrs. Bailey needs a glass of water.”

  Betty’s face fell. “Mrs. Bailey? She left just after eight this morning!”

  “Well, she’s back.”

  Betty nodded slowly. “It happens sometimes, dear.” She pulled a tall cut glass from one of the cabinets and filled it with ice from the door of the refrigerator. Selene marveled at how many gadgets were part of that stainless steel door. There was even a monitor of some sort built right in. Her refrigerator door consisted of one gadget only: a handle.

  Betty placed the glass in her hands, two napkins wrapped around the base. “Come back if you want to escape. I’m sure Barkley is ready to burst.”

  Selene hesitated, giving Betty a sidelong look. “Does Barkley have any anger issues?”

  Betty looked startled, like a child who has said too much. Selene could practically smell the rubber of her backpedaling.

  “No more than any other man.” She smiled weakly. “Ruth makes him…frustrated.”

  “Did Sarah?”

  Betty gave her a level stare, knowing that the line was already crossed. “Not at first.” Her smile returned, stronger than before. “I know you must feel concerned, but don’t be. Barkley is a good man, with a good heart.”

  “Of course.” Selene smiled, but it felt tight and false. She left the kitchen, returning to the entertainment room. Barkley had taken a seat on the opposite end of the couch from his mother. They were sitting in a tense silence. Selene held the water out for Ruth.

  “Thank you.”

  Selene began backing out of the room. “I’m sure you both need some privacy, I’ll just…”

  “Stay right where you are,” Barkley ground out.

  Selene twisted her lips, eyes narrowed once more. Barkley countered her glare with a slight tilt to his head, his face nearly vacant. It stopped Selene in her tracks, and somehow she didn’t dare disobey. It also caused another peculiar reaction. At that moment, she would have gladly taken every stitch of clothing off and invited him to make love to her. Begged for it. Even in front of his mother. Instead, she moved to the bar and began making the three of them drinks. It was after noon. No one could accuse them of being alcoholics.

  “Explain all this to me…Mother.”

  Ruth dabbed at her eyes. She glanced nervously at Selene once, but looked away immediately. “I arrived home. Everything looked to be in order. I went up to my suite, and wanted to check on your father.” She glanced at Barkley’s` profile. “You know, to see if he had even come home yet.” She sighed loudly. “I went into his suite and found a naked…boy…young man…waltzing through the room without a care in the world!”

  Barkley closed his eyes.

  Selene’s hands had stilled; she no longer was sure what drinks she had been making.

  Silence, thick and unwanted, filled the room. Barkley’s face had lost its crimson hue, the color left behind was pasty and yellowish. He stood slowly, a look of uncertainty clouding his eyes. He hesitated a moment longer, a sad yet resentful look at his mother’s bowed head, before he grabbed an overnight bag with each hand.

  “Come on, Mother. Bring your garment bag.”

  “What are you doing?” She sniffed.

  “I’m taking you back to your guest room. You can stay here until this is figured out.”

  Ruth seemed to shrink before Selene’s eyes, but she dutifully followed her son.

  Selene looked at the bottle of whiskey still in hand and poured a shot. She tossed it down the back of her throat, winching slightly as it burned its way to her stomach. She considered another one, when a soft chiming filled the room.

  “I assume that’s the doorbell,” she said to the empty room.

  Selene went into the opposite hallway, her steps light. She opened the door, biting her tongue to keep from laughing as Tom and Chuck froze with mouths hanging open. Chuck held a bucket of chicken and Tom had a six-pack of beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Selene reached for the beer, easily taking it from his hand.

  “Good thing Barkley has a stocked bar. I doubt these six little beers will go very far.” She turned and started back down the hallway.

  “Hey!” Chuck yelled after her in obvious recovery. “It’s the stripper! Have you been here since Friday?”

  Selene gave him a dirty look. “I came here as a stripper not a call girl.”

  “Right, right. Sorry.” He came into step with her, his wide perma-grin back in place. “Glad you and Barkley hit it off.”

  “Yeah.”

  Tom wandered behind them in silence.

  “So, where is the big Bark?”

  “Talking to his mother.”

  Tom groaned behind them as they entered the entertainment room. “Is she still here?” Tom whispered.

  “Yes,” Selene replied, not feeling that they needed to know that she had actually left and come back again. They certainly didn’t need to know the reason why.

  “It’s alright, Tom. You know she doesn’t like football.” Chuck set the chicken on the bar. “L
ooks like you do though.” He grinned at Selene. “No doubt which team either. Got yourself all decked out in your blue and silver.”

  “And where is your team jersey?”

  Tom edged between them to place the chips by the chicken, his orange and brown jersey straining against his stocky torso. “He doesn’t have a team. He just likes to watch the cheerleaders.”

  Selene shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Pig.”

  “Who’s a pig?” Barkley asked.

  Selene frowned when she looked at his pinched eyes and still pasty face. His buddies didn’t seem to notice.

  Chuck approached him and attempted a ridiculous, street-style handshake. Barkley halfheartedly participated.

  Selene poured another shot into her glass and took it to Barkley. “Here.”

  “Whoa!” Chuck exclaimed. “Hitting the hard stuff early!”

  “We have to. You guys only brought six beers.”

  Barkley’s face softened. “Thank you.” He sent the shot down like it was only water. “Another, please.”

  “Ok, but that’s it until you eat.”

  As if on cue, Betty entered the room with the pot of chili in her hands. She looked at Barkley. “Where’s the table?”

  Barkley scrambled to the closet. “Sorry! Hold on!”

  Selene shot daggers at Barkley’s friends as they made themselves comfortable on the couch and turned on the giant television mounted to the wall. She went to the closet not believing her eyes. The space was bigger than her childhood bedroom.

  “Holy crap!”

  “What?” Barkley asked, tugging on the end of one of three folded tables.

  “This closet is huge!”

  He laughed, but she could still hear the strain. “You should see the master closet. It makes this one look like a shoe box.”

  “Well, maybe you can show me sometime.”

  Barkley looked at her from under hooded eyes. “I would love to.”

  They dragged the table past a variety of vacuums, a carpet cleaner, and various other neatly stacked boxes and totes. It was a heavy-duty table, not a cheaply built one like the ones used at garage or bake sales.