The Pretender

by HelenKay Dimon

  “I didn’t either, but I couldn’t forgive my mom until I admitted how pissed off I was.” By then it was too late to retrace the steps of his life. Everything his mother did influenced every choice he’d made. He wanted to blame her, but at some point he had to own it. That reality hit exactly fourteen months ago.

  “It’s not fair.” The fight went out of her and her shoulders slumped.

  “It is, Gabby.” He squeezed her arms to let her know he was right there to catch her. “I don’t have a sister but I know they screw up and they fight. She was young and naïve when she made the mistake, and by the time she was old enough for you to yell it out she’d changed and you never got that closure.”

  Gabby inhaled a deep shuddering breath as her body seemed to fold in on itself. Something crashed inside her. He could see it.

  “I hated what she did. Hated that I had to protect her. So many times I thought about not doing it.” Her voice wobbled and she stopped. After a few swallows she tried again. “That first Thanksgiving my parents didn’t let me come home from college. The way my uncle looked at me. My mom crying on the phone.”

  He pulled her in closer, ignoring the way the water splashed up his calves. “You had and still have every right to be angry.”

  She rested her forehead on his shoulder. “Then why does it feel so crappy?”

  “Because you’re human.” He slid a hand over her hair and placed a kiss right by her ear. “Perfectly human.”

  She was waterlogged and exhausted by the time they left the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Harris had kept verbally poking her, insisting she talk. He was in this big rush to get her to dredge up the past and analyze it.

  She’d wanted to be furious with his interference, but she couldn’t conjure up the energy. It had taken every ounce of strength to keep from admitting the one thing she’d always refused to admit. The words she hid in the back of her mind and pretended didn’t exist. But Harris brought it all to the surface. He gave her opportunity after opportunity. Held her, caressed her, let her know it was okay to say the words she’d been so desperate to keep locked inside. They rattled around inside her then tumbled out.

  Dried off but still wearing the towel, she followed him into the living room. He kept his towel wrapped around his waist. A simple knot held it at his side. Seeing it, watching him walk, looking at those amazing shoulders and how they angled down to that trim waist, a new sensation hit her.

  The sleepiness slipped away and her muscles snapped back to life. The revving inside her, the tightening and shortness of breath, had nothing to do with the discussion in the tub. No, this bubbling need came from a different place.

  She wanted him.

  Adrenaline surged inside her. He wanted her to feel, well, so did she. Right now.

  “Harris.” She waited until he turned around and looked at her—really looked—to drop the towel.

  “I . . . damn.” His gaze took off on a journey. It skipped down her body, hesitating on her breasts, before dipping lower.

  Well, that was adorable. “Is that a yes?”

  “For the record, the answer is always yes for you.”

  She couldn’t think of a sexier answer than that. “Then what are you doing over there?”

  He glanced at the doorway to the bedroom. The poor thing looked confused. The bed sat a few feet away, but she stood on the opposite end of the room, not moving. She sensed she was going to have to help him because his brain cells were not connecting.

  She backed up. “The wall.”

  “Uh . . . bu . . .” He stammered as his mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Okay, that was cute and more than a little flattering. All that control she’d ceded in the bathroom she won back now. His reaction sent a rush of power through her. She believed she could conquer just about anything.

  “Go get a condom.” She put the backs of her hands against the wall by her head. If the guy didn’t get the message now she’d literally start spelling the words.

  “Right.” He took off. Actually jogged the few feet to the bedroom.

  She heard the drawer rattling and then he swore. When he popped out again he was naked and holding the condom. And fully erect. He’d been half hard in the tub during their bath but hadn’t made a move. A few words and a dropped towel and the man was ready.

  The man was impressive and, for now, he was all hers.

  She smiled at him. “There you go.”

  “Oh, I get it now.” He stood in front of her, right between her legs. “I’m going to fuck you against the wall.”

  Heat burned through her. Every muscle ached to wrap around him and pull him close. “Now would be good.”

  “It will definitely be good.” He slipped his fingers through hers and held her there, pinned to the wall. “So fucking good.”

  Then his mouth found hers. The kiss shook her as every nerve ending fired. His tongue swept over hers. Their legs tangled together. That weight as his chest pressed against hers. She craved it all and wanted even more.

  She slipped a hand out of his and pressed it against the back of his neck. The kiss deepened as their bodies rubbed together.

  “Harris, now.” She would plead, beg, get on her knees. Whatever it took to get him all over her.

  “I want to be inside you.” Already hard, he rolled the condom over his length.

  She jumped and he caught her. With his hands on the back of her thighs, he pulled her tight against him. His erection pressed against her entrance and up to her stomach. She linked her ankles behind him. The move had her legs open and her body ready.

  His mouth dove in for another kiss as his fingers slipped down her body. That perfect finger rubbed over her, slid into her. She lifted her hips, angled her body to pull him in deeper. When he moved it in and out, her back arched off the wall.

  He slipped his finger out of her and then his tip brushed over her, plunging deep inside her. Their lower bodies met and her fingers slid into his hair. She couldn’t hold him close enough or tight enough as he moved in and out.

  Her head rolled against the wall and her hips moved in time with each thrust. Need pounded her as she shifted so he’d hit just the right spot inside her. It worked and the touch had her gasping. A sexy shiver ran through her. She was warm now. Her skin caught fire from the inside out.

  An orgasm hovered just out of reach. She teetered on the brink. Her body cried out for more. Without thinking, she tightened her legs around him, which only brought her closer to the edge. Then he rolled his hips forward and she lost it. Pleasure crashed over her and dragged her under. Her last coherent thought was about Harris.

  He had changed everything.

  Chapter 22

  Harris swore at the knock on the guesthouse door the next morning. He knew who stood on the other side because Damon had sent a warning text ten minutes ago. He literally gave Harris a countdown to stop having sex and get dressed. Lucky for Damon, that had already happened.

  Harris opened the door. “What?”

  “You are the only guy I know who is grumpier after sex.” Damon pushed his way into the room but stopped when he saw Gabby sitting on the couch, looking at her phone. “Oh, shit.”

  “Yeah, I’m right here, listening to your male nonsense. I guess locker-room talk really is a thing.”

  Damon had the grace to wince. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Harris and I are not exactly a secret.” She stood up and looked at Damon’s hands. “What are you holding?”

  He waved the short stack of documents. “More chat room records.”

  When Damon didn’t say anything else, Harris rolled his eyes. “Okay. And?”

  Any other morning Harris might appreciate the added drama, not today. He and Gabby had been on this never-ending frenetic ride. Great sex, devastating admissions, danger. It was a whirlwind and most parts of it weren’t that great, except the one that was truly exceptional.

  He’d been struggling to find his equilibrium and conquer his guilt. The emotion w
as uncomfortable for him. He rarely felt bad about his work because he picked his target artwork with care. But guilt moved through him nonstop these days. The closer he got to Gabby, the more he cared for her and the heavier his secret became.

  He kept finding excuses to put off telling her. At first he’d been determined never to tell her. He thought he’d be able to hide his part in being there that morning with Tabitha and destroying valuable evidence. Just help Gabby out then move on without anyone really knowing anything about him. Then he met her, got to know her and vowed to tell her the truth after they got a lead. After they slept together he shifted his priorities again and decided he’d disclose after they narrowed down the list of suspects. Now he wanted to put it off until they caught the killer, a task that felt impossible most days.

  He didn’t regret much in his life. He regretted coming to the island that day . . . but part of him couldn’t even apologize for that. Without the painting and Tabitha, he wouldn’t have met Gabby. It was selfish and sick. He hated to think he benefitted from something so devastating for her.

  Damon tucked the paperwork in the inside pocket of his jacket. “We have a morning appointment for a boat ride.”

  She frowned at him. “What?”

  “I haven’t had coffee yet.” A fact Harris found highly relevant to his willingness to do anything.

  “Hurry up. We’re late.”

  Damon’s cryptic comment didn’t make that much more sense a half hour later, but at least Harris now knew what they had to rush off to do. Go boating.

  Damon, Gabby and Harris had filed onto Craig’s boat. He had more than one. This one, a speedboat, was built to impress. They sat on the cushioned seats behind Craig. He handled the boat with ease, guiding it across the waves and moving them out farther from the land.

  The storm clouds had given way to a clear morning. The water shined in a deep crystal blue as they ventured out on the Bay, heading toward the mouth where it dumped into the ocean.

  “Why today?” Craig spared them a quick glance as he steered. “For a pleasure ride, I mean. Don’t get me wrong. I love being out here, but you two guys don’t exactly look like you’re on a vacation right now.”

  Harris glanced at Damon before answering. “We needed a break from the paperwork.”

  “That does sound pretty boring.” Craig nodded as he adjusted his sunglasses. “Paperwork overload gave me the kick I needed to leave the financial field and get back to something that put me outside.”

  Damon sat alone across from Gabby and Harris. He stretched his arm across the top of the empty cushions next to him. It was a practiced move that looked relaxed and almost disinterested.

  Harris knew better.

  “Did you ever take Tabitha out on the boat?” Damon asked.

  The question told Harris what he needed to know. In the rush to get to the dock this morning to meet their sailing time, Damon gave them only partial information. He said it would all become clear as they rode along. Now Harris got it. Damon found something in the documents that connected Craig to Tabitha on a more-than-casual-friends level. Since the paperwork in his pocket showed chat room transcripts, Harris knew it all started and ended with Tabitha’s true crime obsession.

  Craig nodded. “Actually, yes.”

  “Wait a second.” Gabby stopped watching the water and looked at Craig again. “What?”

  The engine’s roar softened as the boat slowed and Craig turned around to face them. “She liked the feeling of the air on her face.” He pointed at the outline of an island to their right in the distance. “She also liked to ride around and check out other houses. I joked that she was nosy, but I think she was trying to figure out if she liked another island better than hers.”

  Craig and Tabitha had been very familiar with each other. Casual and chatty. That was the one piece Harris hadn’t expected. He assumed with her lifestyle Tabitha’s relationships were more peripheral and informal. The warmth in Craig’s voice suggested otherwise. They had been real friends and not sometime acquaintances.

  “But she rarely left the island,” Gabby said.

  “We circled it. Sometimes she’d let me go out farther, but not too far.” Craig’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and sadness lingered there.

  Harris shifted in his seat. The other two seemed fine, but the lumpy cushion made it hard for him to sit still. He thought about switching to Gabby’s other side until he realized this likely was a boat-wide problem.

  Trying to keep his mind in the game, he threw out a question. “How often did you see her?”

  Craig shrugged. “When I dropped supplies off, so pretty regular intervals.”

  “Intervals?” Damon asked.

  The usual smile faded from Craig’s face. His personality seemed to be stuck in perpetual friendly mode. He kept his anger hidden and did his job. For Ted and Kramer, Craig stepped up often. Harris didn’t operate that way and didn’t exactly understand people who did, but Craig struck him as decent and genuine. Or he did until the boat ride started. Damon was onto something and Harris didn’t know what.

  Craig leaned against the wheel. “Am I being questioned?”

  Damon didn’t blink. “Yes.”

  “Wait, what?” Gabby uncrossed her legs and sat forward.

  Harris wasn’t convinced this was the right way to pull information out of Craig. But he wasn’t quite sure what intel Damon possessed. The question was if Harris could sit there long enough to find out. He shifted, running a hand under him. It felt as if he were sitting on something.

  With all the moving around, Craig’s attention switched to Harris. “Are you okay?”

  He was annoyed. He stood up and pushed the cushions around. “This seat is . . .”

  Harris saw it then. A ball of black material shoved under the cushion, stuffed half inside. He tugged on it but it didn’t move at first. The ripping sound almost made him stop yanking it, but he kept going.

  The material gave and he held up a black hat. Not just a hat, a mask. The kind that would cover a guy’s face as he slammed a woman into the wall.

  He held it up. “Want to explain this?”

  Craig squinted as he stared at it. “A tourist probably left it.”

  “Is that a ski mask?” Gabby grabbed it out of Harris’s hands and studied it. Her face went pale as she held it up to Craig. “Is this yours?”

  “I don’t wear knit caps like that, and certainly not in spring.” Craig let out an uncomfortable laugh then turned around with his back to them again.

  When she looked at Harris all he could see was the confusion in her eyes. She was damn smart. It didn’t take her long to put the pieces together. She clearly already guessed the direction of Harris’s thoughts. Craig was on the island the night Gabby was attacked. He knew the family, came back and forth often. And now he had what could be the hat that hid his identity. He had the opportunity but the motive was unclear.

  But there was something else. Harris could feel it. “Damon?”

  He nodded as he slipped one of the papers out of his pocket. “Do you like chat rooms, Craig?”

  Motherfucker. Harris wanted to be wrong, but this was about Tabitha and the hobby she viewed as a job.

  Craig didn’t say anything but he did cut off the engine. By the time he turned around, Damon had his gun out and up.

  “Yeah, not a vacation. I’m working right now.” Damon made a tsk-tsking sound. “I’d be careful if I were you.”

  “You’re crimefinder?” Gabby asked Craig.

  “Crimesleuthing,” Harris said, correcting her. He had the computer username memorized. He could recite passages of Tabitha’s chats by now. “Was that your username?”

  Gabby stepped around Harris and headed straight for Craig. She practically lunged for him. Harris grabbed her around the waist from behind but that didn’t stop her rampage. She shook the black material in her fist at Craig. “You attacked me.”

  “What? No.” Craig shook his head and held up his hands. He took on a pure defe
nsive battle stance now. “I would never do that.”

  She inched closer to Craig despite Harris’s hold. “The guy who came after me the other night wore this or one just like it. That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “What are you talking about? What night?”

  Craig’s confusion sounded genuine. Harris spent a lot of time lying and heard more than his share in his work. He knew some people could sell the most ridiculous stories. Garbage rolled out of them without any remorse. Harris didn’t get that vibe from Craig, but the hat did throw everything off.

  Ignoring the hat and the attack on Gabby, Harris doubled back to the chat room information. “Why were you stalking Tabitha on her crime sites?”

  Craig didn’t bother to deny it. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Oh, my God.” Shock vibrated in Gabby’s voice. “You killed her.”

  “No! Hell, no.” Craig’s eyes widened and a look of horror crept over his face. “I loved her.”

  He looked around at all of them. His mouth moved but he didn’t say anything else. The waves lapped against the boat, putting it into a gentle rock, as the admission sat there.

  Harris’s mind scrambled. He rushed to force all the pieces to make sense. “Explain.”

  “I joined the chat room, but it wasn’t to hurt her. It was to get to know her.” A gentle pleading moved into Craig’s voice. Stress pulled at his mouth and he used his hands to emphasize every point.

  “Nah. I don’t buy that.” Damon shook his head. “You already knew her. You said yourself you were on the island every day.”

  “Don’t you understand? I was the guy who delivered things. The help.” Craig’s gaze kept moving until it fell on Gabby. “I wanted . . . I was really attracted to her but she kept her distance. She put up this barrier. Not because of our backgrounds. Not that, but because she held everyone away from her.”

  Harris couldn’t help but look at Gabby. It sounded to him like the sisters suffered from the same affliction when it came to emotional ties. Then his gaze returned to Craig. “You’re saying you had a thing for her.”