Moriah's Landing Bundle

by Amanda Stevens

  The gate swung open and she drove through without looking to see if it closed behind her. As she rounded the first corner and dropped down the hillside along the tree-lined narrow road, she looked back to see the house disappear from view. But she couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling trailing her.

  In the blackness of the trees, the car’s headlights illuminated only a short stretch of road in front of her. She felt anxious. Anxious to get home and talk to Emily. Anxious to put Manning and his laboratory far behind her.

  The road took a tight turn to the left, spiraling down to another tight turn to the right. She glanced at her speed, surprised how fast she was going. The steering wheel felt stiff as she made the first turn. Ahead, the single-lane road took a sharp turn to the left through the dense trees.

  She let her foot up off the gas pedal, but the car sped faster, the engine revving loudly. At the same time, she saw something ahead that made her heart stop. A light. It flickered through the branches. Someone was coming up the road toward her.

  Panicked, she hit the brakes, but the pedal went to the floor. She pumped it. No brakes. She took the next turn, tires squealing on the dark pavement, the steering so hard she had to crank the wheel to keep the car on the road.

  Madly, she stomped on the gas pedal, trying to get it unstuck, her panic heightening. The dense trees rushed by in a twisted murky blur, the sound of the engine roaring in her ears as she pumped again at the unresponsive brakes.

  Frantic, she attempted to downshift but she was going too fast. She tried to get the car into neutral, but it wouldn’t go. In final desperation, she reached for the key to kill the engine—and the emergency brake, knowing even as she grabbed for it that it probably might not work. In that instant, a motorcycle came roaring around the curve, directly into her path.

  Chapter Ten

  Jonah let go of the breath he’d been holding as the car skidded to a halt, only a fraction of an inch from where his motorcycle stopped.

  He pushed his bike aside and up on the kickstand, then stepped around the side of the car, his legs weak, his heart a thunder in his chest. Kat’s dark blue eyes were wide, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other the handbrake.

  He opened the door and leaned across her to pry her clammy fingers from the emergency brake. As he did, his body made contact with hers and he felt her jerk as if hit with a jolt of electricity. He could feel her trembling with the aftershock.

  “I almost hit you,” she whispered.

  He nodded, well aware of that. “But you didn’t,” he said gently as he pulled her from behind the wheel.

  Her eyes welled up and she began to shake in earnest as if she only then let herself admit how close a call it had been for both of them.

  She had no idea. If he hadn’t been there…He shoved the thought away as she stumbled against him. He put his arms around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For any other woman and man, it might have been.

  But for him, her touch was pleasure and pain. She electrified his senses, blinding him with feeling and at the same time frightening him with the intensity of the danger he felt around her.

  “What were you doing out here this late anyway?” he demanded, angry with her for letting herself get caught in this situation, even more angry with himself.

  “My job. You might recall that I’m a private investigator.”

  It wasn’t something he was likely to forget. “You’re working on a case involving Dr. Manning?”

  “Excuse me, but that’s none of your business.” As quickly as she’d stumbled into his arms, she was out of them. She pushed away, wiping at her eyes with still-trembling fingers, her face illuminated by the glow from the car’s headlights, her expression one of anger—and suspicion. “Were you following me?”

  He motioned to his motorcycle. “I was on my way up the road when I saw lights through the trees and heard an engine revving and tires squealing.”

  “So why didn’t you get out of the way then?” she demanded.

  “There wasn’t time.” It had been a fool thing to do, staying in the middle of the road like that, but he’d thought he could stop her by his strength of will if nothing else. “Had you noticed any trouble with your brakes earlier tonight?”

  She blinked and looked at him. “How did you know I didn’t have any brakes?” She’d gone straight from suspicion to accusation.

  “I can smell the brake fluid from here and I could see you were having trouble stopping.” He stepped around her to reach inside the car and pull the release on the hood.

  “You just happened to be coming up the road this late at night?” She followed him around to the hood, looking a little scared and a whole lot suspicious.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” he said, mimicking her, “but I was doing my job. My boss had me bring a package up to Manning tonight.” He motioned to the box of expensive scotch bungie-corded to the back of his bike.

  She looked in that direction, her face threatening to crumble as if the fear had come back. “You could have been killed,” she whispered.

  “But I wasn’t and, fortunately, neither were you,” he said softly, touching her arm.

  She nodded, fighting back tears, and hugged herself as she looked away.

  He pulled the small high-powered flashlight he carried from his jacket pocket and shone the beam onto the engine, not surprised to find the throttle wired so once it was started it would stay open. With his shirttail he removed the hot wire and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  “Well?” she said, turning around to look under the hood with him.

  He stared down at the engine for a moment. “Afraid I don’t know much about car engines…”

  She groaned and slammed the hood, barely missing his head. “A lot of help you are. Probably just a sticky throttle. Maybe the brakes got wet.”

  He could see she was searching for an answer other than the obvious one. He moved around to the side, tugged off his leather jacket and laid it over the top of her car before he slithered under to check the brakes. He found the brake line had been cut. No big surprise.

  “Did you see anyone else on the road or near Manning’s house?” he asked as he slid out and got to his feet again, shrugging back into his jacket.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Someone cut your brake line,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “It must have cracked. Or maybe a rock cut it.” She was shaking her head as she squatted down to look under the car. It was obvious that she didn’t know anything about cars.

  “Believe me, it was cut. And by a knife—not a rock.”

  “Why would anyone do that and why would I believe you?”

  He had a real good idea why someone had done it, but not one he could share with her. “I would imagine in your profession you might have made a few enemies,” he suggested, pulling the wire from his pocket. He hadn’t wanted to scare her, but now he realized he could use it to his advantage. “This was holding your throttle open.”

  Her gaze came up to meet his. For just an instant, she questioned whether someone could have deliberately tried to injure her. The idea obviously shocked her. She instantly rejected it with a laugh. “Not with the kind of cases I take.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that. But it wasn’t one of her cases that was the problem here.

  “Trust me, there’ll be a good explanation for what happened tonight,” she said. “And who knows where you got that wire.”

  There was a good explanation, but he didn’t think she would believe that, either. He looked into her eyes, worried that he might blow the progress he’d made if he wasn’t careful, but desperately needing to be totally honest with her.

  “Look, you’re in danger.”

  “If this is about my brake line being cut—”

  “Someone is trying to kill you.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You got all that from a near-accident?”

  “Let me explain. It’s about this litt
le family quirk—”

  “Mine or yours?” she asked.

  “Mine.”

  “I know what the town says about your family. But I know your family isn’t really descended from McFarland Leary and his supposed witch consort,” she said. “Not that it would make any difference. They were just people. Everyone knows all of that burning at the stake and hanging of witches was just hysteria on the part of ignorant people.”

  He winced as if he’d been at the hanging.

  Her look turned tender. “Even if you are related to them, it wouldn’t make you…odd or different from anyone else unless you believed that you were. Which you’re not. I mean, I can tell that.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again and said, “That’s very understanding of you.”

  “I know what it is like to have people talking about your family,” she continued. “I’m sure you’ve heard about my mother. Everyone has.”

  He thought about playing dumb, but didn’t want to with her. “She liked men. That isn’t a crime.”

  “No, but if she’d been faithful to my father while he was at sea, maybe she’d still be alive.”

  That would depend on who killed her. But he didn’t tell her that. “Look, someone cut your brake line and rigged the throttle,” he said, trying to get her back to the subject. “I think we should call the police and have them—”

  “Not until I have a qualified mechanic look at the damage,” she said. “After all, I did stop, didn’t I?”

  She had him there. He couldn’t tell her how she’d stopped. She wouldn’t believe him if he did. Forget total honesty.

  “I think you’re overreacting.” She started to move past him as if she thought she was going somewhere in that car.

  He didn’t think so. He pulled his cell phone from his leather jacket and punched in the number of the local garage, asked for a tow truck, gave their location and hung up.

  She was staring at him. “A cell phone?” she demanded.

  Obviously, she didn’t see him as being a cell phone kind of guy. “It’s a friend’s.”

  “I can call my own tow truck,” she said, sounding put out.

  “Sorry, I was just trying to help.”

  “What you don’t seem to get is that I’m not a helpless female. I can take care of myself.”

  Under normal circumstances, he didn’t doubt that for a minute. But Kat didn’t have the faintest idea what was after her. Neither did he for that matter.

  “So if you don’t mind, Mr. Ries—”

  “Jonah.” He crossed his arms and leaned against her car to wait for the tow truck.

  She studied him for a moment. “Isn’t there someplace you’re supposed to be?” she asked, motioning to the booze on the back of his bike. It was obvious that she felt safer alone out here than with him. Under normal circumstances, she would be right.

  “The scotch will just be a little older when I get it there,” he said.

  She planted her hands on her hips. Very nice hips, too. And let out a long sigh as she leaned against the car and looked up at the dark night sky. She looked so damn sexy with her head thrown back like that.

  He could feel the fog moving in off the ocean and hear the tow truck already coming up the hill. The towing service was just at the end of town, and Doug, the owner, lived upstairs over the garage, so Jonah had known it wouldn’t take long. “I could give you a ride back into town.”

  “Does hard of hearing run in your family? Is that the ‘quirk’ you were going to tell me about?”

  He smiled and shook his head.

  “Then goodbye, Mr. Ries. I’ll catch a ride with the tow truck.”

  He didn’t need her to hit him over the head. But still he waited until the truck lumbered to a stop and a harmless enough looking young man in his late teens climbed out of the cab.

  Jonah hung around until the kid got the car hooked on and Kat was seated in the truck cab. Getting on his motorcycle, Jonah duck-walked it over to the passenger side of the tow truck. He waited until Kat rolled down her window. “See you around.”

  “Not if I see you first,” she said as she rolled up the window. He smiled in spite of himself as he started his bike and roared off up the road toward the doc’s place to deliver the case of scotch Brody had insisted he bring out tonight.

  Once away from Kat and assured she was safe for the moment, he let himself feel the anger and the fear. He’d been set up tonight. Someone had wanted to know more about the Ries genes and had almost gotten Kat killed in the process. Brody? Dr. Manning? Either way, he planned to find out and make sure they never pulled a stunt like that again.

  KAT LEFT HER CAR at the garage to be fixed, went home and changed into jeans and a crop top, hoping not to look so conspicuous as she entered the arcade. She just wanted to get this job for Dr. Manning over with. It wasn’t quite eleven but she was surprised to find so many kids still out even with school getting out, in a matter of days.

  She wandered through the kids hunched over the noisy machines, looking for Dodie and Razz. Even if they hadn’t broken into Dr. Manning’s lab, they’d probably know who had or could find out a lot easier than she could. She also had a feeling that the allure of easy cash would appeal to the two.

  Later she would deal with finding out whether or not her little sister might be involved. Just the thought left her sick with worry.

  She spotted Razz at a game called Assassin Station zapping creatures of all kinds with what appeared to be an AK-47. Great game for a guy like him. Razz was the same age as Kat, but he dressed as if he was still in high school and hung out with Dodie, who was around Emily’s age. Both Razz and Dodie had dropped out of high school and didn’t seem to have a life plan other than bullying the younger kids, hanging out at the arcade and getting into trouble.

  Razz wore torn and tattered jeans, a gimme T-shirt from a local lube shop and a gimme Bait & Tackle cap from Ernie’s, the cap dark with filth and on backward. He was so engrossed in his game, he didn’t even hear her approach until she leaned over to obscure his next shot.

  “What the hell?” he demanded, finally seeing her.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said, still blocking his view of the game.

  “Well, it can wait until I finish this game.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “Let’s go outside.”

  Razz swore and, for a moment, looked as though he wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Dr. Manning sent me,” she said.

  His expression gave him away. She saw him look around for Dodie. But the younger punk was nowhere to be seen.

  Resigned, Razz went outside with her, nervously glancing over his shoulder, obviously not as sure of himself without Dodie. “So what do you want?”

  “Dr. Manning’s laboratory was broken into last night. He wants what was taken, no questions asked. He’s willing to pay for its return, if it’s tonight.” Kat added the time constraint as an incentive.

  Razz looked worried. “What does that have to do with me?”

  She gave him her best duh-look.

  “I don’t know anything about it,” he said, feigning hurt as he adjusted his cap.

  “Whatever.” She started to turn and leave.

  “Hey, I might know who did though.”

  She stopped and turned back to him. He belonged in jail—not rewarded for his theft, but this was Manning’s call. “Who might?”

  He gave her his best duh-look.

  Resigned, she said, “Dr. Manning will pay a sizable reward for the merchandise’s return. He’d like it back by midnight.”

  Razz ran a tongue over his dry lips. “How sizable?”

  She shook her head, but she could see Razz’s interest had been piqued. Curiosity and greed were such great motivators. She watched him glance at his watch, real nervous now. It was after eleven.

  “One more thing,” she said. “Dr. Manning found tracks on the ground the night of the breakin and knows that there were three trespassers. Based on shoe size
s, it looks as if one of the three was a girl.” Kat watched his face, her heart pounding. “I want the name of that girl.”

  “Even if I knew…” He let out a groan. “Oh, I get it. You think maybe your kid sister was one of them?” He seemed to find that amusing.

  “Was she?”

  “How would I know?”

  She was tempted to wipe the arrogance from his face.

  He stepped back as if he feared she just might try.

  “I’ll ask around,” he said, and disappeared back into the arcade.

  But not before she noticed the brand name of the athletic shoes he had on—and estimated the size. Not surprisingly, they could have been a match for one of the sets of prints under the tree on Dr. Manning’s property.

  Kat started home, fairly sure Dr. Manning would have his property back by midnight. If only she could be sure that Emily hadn’t been the girl vandal.

  Once she left Main Street, she found the streets dark and deserted. Wisps of fog moved up from the cove on a sea breeze that smelled of fish and brine. As she started along the brick path through the park and town green, Kat heard footsteps echoing behind her.

  She turned, seeing no one. Clouds moved restlessly across the moon, casting odd shadows over the town green. The fog moved along the ground, curling around the trunks of the trees, obscuring the ground. If someone really was following her, he must have stepped off the path behind one of the many trees.

  She picked up her pace, the echo of the footfalls behind her, but each time she turned, she would see nothing or only catch what might have been a glimpse of movement near the trees. She couldn’t help but think about what Jonah had said to her about being in danger. She’d thought he was just trying to scare her. She was almost running by the time she reached the house, relieved to see lights on inside.

  “Hey!” her sister said as Kat locked the front door behind her and tried to calm down. Glancing out the window, she saw no one, but she wasn’t fool enough to think someone hadn’t been out there or that she hadn’t been followed home. Again.

  Emily had a plate filled with nachos and was headed for her room, where the volume of music coming out of the stereo was rattling the windows. “Where’s your car?” Em yelled over the noise.