by Amy McKinley
“Yes. I’m good.” I grinned because he was a whole other level of drool-worthy first thing in the morning, with those bedroom eyes and the hint of softness to such a powerful man. I scurried into the house and got to brushing my teeth and splashing water on my face. Five minutes later, I was back on the lanai, sitting in a single chair with my feet up on the ottoman when Xander came in with two large cups of coffee.
I thanked him and wrapped my hands around the hot mug, breathing in the rich scent of coffee beans and cream. We sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the caffeine to infuse our blood and for our synapses to start firing.
There was no hurry to talk. Xander didn’t pressure me. But I couldn’t put it off any longer. I couldn’t see why my past and present were connected, but even so, he deserved an explanation for my post-traumatic responses after the nightmare. I was sure there would be more, as the night terrors were back in full force.
I gripped the warm mug, staring into its dark contents as I began. “I was seven years old when I went to live with my aunt. That day haunts my mind as the worst one in my life.” I shivered despite the heat all around me. “It was cold. Late October in the Midwest. We’d gotten some snow earlier in the week, and the ground was frozen.”
Xander sat motionless opposite me, his coffee probably growing cold. I was glad for the silence and for him letting me tell the story at my own pace.
“My parents were fighting again. They did that a lot, but it wasn’t always bad. This was one of the times it was. I remember sitting at our white round table with its chips and scuff marks, eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. The kitchen was at the back of the house, with a door that led to the backyard, and opposite it was another that went into the family room. That’s where they were. There were a few minutes where there wasn’t any screaming, and my mom came into the kitchen. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. She was frantic but trying to hide it while she bundled me up in my winter coat and boots and told me to go outside. I wasn’t supposed to come back in unless she called me.”
I lifted the coffee to my lips and took a few gulps, needing the strength to tell him the rest.
Xander waited for me to continue.
“I went to the swings, but it was windy and cold. They were shouting at each other again, and I almost went back inside, but there was the promise I’d made to my mom. So I didn’t. My neighbors had a playhouse with their swing set, and since there wasn’t a fence between our yards, I went there and huddled against the wall to try to stay warm until Mom called me inside.
“Dad yelled for me, but”—I shrugged—“I’d made a promise. I didn’t go in. Not long after that, there was this deafening boom. I stood up then because I was worried and didn’t know what I should do. There was another noise like the one before it. I ran inside, even though I wasn’t supposed to. Blood has that weird smell.” I met Xander’s solemn gaze. He knew.
“There was red on the door between the kitchen and the family room, and I remember thinking that it looked a little like when I finger painted but messier. The handprints were smeared and long. When I got up the nerve to open the door, the blood got on my hands.” I shuddered.
Xander’s hand found my knee. “You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”
I gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay, but maybe not all the details. They were dead in the other room, but I didn’t accept it until much later. My aunt told me that my no-good, worthless dad killed my mom before turning the gun on himself. She also said that if my mom had left him and stayed away, as she had when I was a baby, she wouldn’t have had to take me in.”
He plucked the mug from my hands and set it on a table. Then his arms slid under my thighs and around my back. He lifted me onto his lap and cradled me against him. “It’s a damn good thing you didn’t go in when he called you.”
Neither of us said anything after that statement. If I had listened to my dad, I would have died too.
We spent the rest of the day together, walking the shore and picking up shells. He told me stories of him and his brothers growing up, the trouble they got into, and how their strict but loving parents dealt with disciplining them. He said it rarely worked, but the physical labor made them stronger and more appreciative of one another—and oddly, of family. They were taxed with things like building a pier into the water on the island or digging trenches, but they always did so as a unit, working together to solve problems and execute solutions.
I appreciated the life he’d had while growing up and marveled at the differences between us. My past squatted in my mind, heavy and dark, draining me of energy.
But Xander offered the promise of a better tomorrow, a joyful future.
23
Riley
The small duffel landed on the mattress next to the backpack with my camera equipment. I rubbed a weary hand over the back of my neck, emotionally drained from the conversation with Xander yesterday morning. It was hard to believe it was only Wednesday and that graduation was Sunday. There wasn’t a shred of doubt about my decision not to go.
Xander had invited me to join him for a jog on the beach, but I’d declined. I needed some alone time to process everything. I pursed my lips. Along with my camera, I’d brought my laptop. I could work on putting together the cover letter and a sample of the pictures I wanted to send to the New York gallery. Or I could escape reality and get lost in The Spider’s Prey. That was preferable. The heavy book in my bag beckoned, and I pulled it out then settled on the comfortable chair on the lanai in the cabin next door to Xander’s. Kicking my feet up on the ottoman, I opened the book to where I’d left off.
The mix of greens hid the crushed pill added into the salad dressing. Brad wouldn’t detect anything. We sat across from one another, and he asked me about my day with that irritating distracted smile. He wasn’t thinking about me or focusing on what I was saying. I slipped in a few outlandish events, like how my friend Sylvia had shoplifted a lipstick then tripped over the store’s metal threshold. She fell on the cement and sprained her wrist when she tried to break her fall. The nod and absent comment he gave was typical when his mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t listening. He was thinking of her.
When his cell phone chimed and he excused himself to answer, I was able to hear every word—on his end. The call was planned.
He returned to the table, a predictable apology at the ready. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I have to go in for a dental emergency.”
“Do you have time to finish dinner? I made a pot roast.”
“No. He’s already on his way, and so is Ruth.” He shoveled the last bite of salad in.
“Ruth does a wonderful job.” I did like her, and the fact that she was much older was a bonus. “I’m glad she’ll be there to assist you.”
I stood and followed Brad to the door, admiring his broad shoulders. He paused before leaving and brushed my hair back, dropping a soft kiss on my lips.
I sighed. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I’ll only be a couple of hours.”
Rather than answer, I drew him in for a hug. “Be careful.”
The door clicked shut behind his retreating form, and seconds later, he pulled out of our garage. I watched the headlights of his silver BMW disappear, and my feeling of satisfaction brewed.
His stupid intern had a penchant for wine. The crushed medicine he’d consumed would react unfavorably with the tannins and alcohol in the red she preferred. I laughed as I pivoted on a heel then went to the kitchen to clean up.
While Brad would rather have a pilsner, I knew he indulged her in the wine by his blue-stained teeth after he was with her. A few sips tonight, and they would be on their way to the ER. I knew the nurse at the registration desk, the one Blondie would encounter when she tried to see him.
They were in for a nasty surprise.
I chuckled as I rinsed the dishes then started the dishwasher. What would she think after finding out he wasn’t divorced? What would he do? I couldn
’t wait to find out.
Chills raced up my arms. I dropped the book and jumped from my seat, glaring at it for several minutes. Holy hell! Dark spots swam in my peripheral vision, and I blinked furiously to chase them away while sucking in deep, calming breaths.
The parallel with what had happened the night Charles had come to my apartment, trying to work things out, was too similar to discount. He’d had some wine, then heart-attack symptoms caused us to get him to the hospital quickly, where I learned he wasn’t divorced, that he was married and had lied to me.
Melanie’s unhealthy obsession with Charles and that she was a published author invaded my thoughts. Could it be her? I flipped the book so that the author’s cover picture was visible. The image was blurry through cigarette smoke that dangled from crimson-painted lips—that lipstick was the only color in the grayscale portrait. Dark hair hung in straight lines on either side of an oval face, obscured by large black sunglasses. It was mysterious and alluring.
The professional in me admired the picture, but the part of me who related to a portion of the writer’s plot was terrified. I told myself it was probably just my overactive imagination causing problems again—that had to be it. I closed the book and set it aside. Rather than stay in the house, I changed into a black bikini and went outside for some sun.
I spread a towel on the white sand, put my sunglasses on, and scanned the shore, trying to spot Xander jogging back. I could see him in the distance and braced myself on my elbows to wait, taking in the horizon. Maybe surfing would be a good way to get my mind off things. The waves were bigger on the northern end of the beach, but reefs were sticking out in one area, and I preferred to steer clear of that.
Something bobbed in the water, moving in conjunction with the swells as they flowed around the jagged black rock. What is that? I stood, shaded my eyes, and squinted for a better view.
My mind pieced together the tattered fabric and lifeless appendages. As soon as it all merged into one cohesive image, I fell to my hands and knees. No! I dry heaved over and over, my limbs shaking uncontrollably. Warmth enveloped me, keeping me from falling. I recognized the deep voice in my ear. Xander was back, and he held me. I couldn’t speak. Instead, I shuddered in his arms, and with a shaky finger, I pointed to the body that bobbed not too far from where we were sitting.
Something about the clothes registered. Navy tie—I knew who that was. What I didn’t understand was why Charles’s body had washed up on the island.
Xander
My shoes dug into the sand as I jogged my way back to Riley, who paced franticly. The body caught in the reef wasn’t bloated yet but looked to have been there for at least twelve hours. It was mostly intact, minus a foot that had marks on the ankle from shark teeth.
I grabbed Riley’s hand then wrapped my arm around her as I went to retrieve my cell from inside to call Jaxon. After I got my phone, I guided her back outside to wait.
Toeing off the gym shoes that I’d worn while running, I grabbed a towel and sat in the sand with Riley, who hadn’t spoken since I’d gone to get a better look at the body. Christ. These past two days had been hell for her.
I tugged her against my side. The phone rang twice before Jaxon’s curt hello. I didn’t waste words but got right down to the heart of the problem. “Think we found Charles. There’s a body caught in the reef.”
“Riley was with you since the incident yesterday?”
“Yes.” The move into the house hadn’t happened until after breakfast that morning.
“I’ll call the Coast Guard. Nolan’s working another case, but I’ve got to let him know about this.”
“Do what you can, okay?” I had to ask even though I knew he would. It would be better if Jaxon questioned Riley, rather than someone else.
“I’ll run interference with Nolan, but you know how he is.”
I did, as Jaxon had gone into detail about what working with him was like.
“See if Tyler can stay on the island too.”
“I can do that, but we tasked him with something else to look into.”
Something crashed on the other end, and I could relate. We were in a bind. I’d put Jaxon in one by protecting Riley despite his need to have her close and interrogate her, and by asking him to keep Nolan on a leash as much as he could.
Our younger brother, Tyler, would have helped, but we had other issues—in particular, his pending deployment. In the back of my mind, I worried about him going and what could happen. We had to find that mole. And we would, but my immediate focus had to be on Riley and the trouble that kept finding her.
It didn’t take long for the Coast Guard to arrive. Riley remained tucked into my side. Tremors wracked her frame, and even though I tried to keep her from seeing it, she cried out when the body was pulled from the water. Dead and missing a foot, it wasn’t a pretty sight.
The Coast Guard loaded Charles onto the boat, and once he was able, Jaxon made his way to us. He had questions, but I would make sure it was a short visit. Riley had been through enough.
The wind pushed against us, blowing her dark hair away from her face. Thankfully, we were far enough away that the stench of the body wouldn’t reach us. She gagged, no doubt from the visual of someone she knew being dragged from the ocean.
I kept my arm firmly around her as Jaxon approached, his hardened cop face intact. My gaze narrowed, and I promised retribution if he upset her further.
Jaxon stood before us, bracing his legs in the sand with his arms loose at his sides. “Hey, Riley, wish we were meeting again under better circumstances.”
She cleared her throat. “I do too.”
“Right now, we’re operating under the assumption that your ex was attempting to reach you, as you said he hadn’t taken your breakup well. Since it was storming the night before and there is no visible foul play, the theory is that his boat capsized before he made it here, and he drowned. It’s the most likely scenario as of now.”
“That makes sense, but it doesn’t take away from how awful this is.”
Jaxon grimaced. “There’s more. The tox report came back, confirming that the blood on your door was human and not animal.”
Her face leeched of more color, if that was possible, and a tremor went through her.
I rubbed her arm, securing her tighter to my side. “Do you know whose it was yet?”
Jaxson’s attention swung to me. “No.”
He wasn’t saying more, but I knew they would test the blood against the body they had in their possession.
A muscle leapt in Jaxon’s jaw as he met Riley’s gaze. “I’m sorry to do this, but I need to ask you a few questions.”
She scrubbed at tearstained cheeks as she lifted her chin higher and braced herself for what Jaxon would ask. “I understand. Go ahead.”
I was furious at the situation. Riley remained glued to my side, leaning into me, taking the support I offered.
“I need to know your whereabouts since Monday.” With his mouth pressed into a straight line, Jax’s features were grim.
I took reassurance in that, as it was clear he didn’t like this any more than I did.
“I spent Monday night in my apartment, alone. On Tuesday, I called for help when the blood and knife were found on my door. I’ve been with Xander ever since.”
Jaxon held his cell phone in front of us of, a driver’s license picture on the screen that showed a pretty woman with wild, shoulder-length curly hair, dark-brown eyes, a narrow nose, and high cheekbones. “This is Mrs. Wright. Do you recognize her?”
“No.”
He squeezed her arm and offered a weak smile. “Thanks, Riley. Try not to worry. We’re working round the clock to find out what happened. Stay close to Xander.”
She promised she would, and shortly after, everyone left. Thick, gray clouds had rolled in, and thunder rumbled. As we headed inside, I knew I would do whatever it took to eliminate the fear and anxiety that clung to her.
24
Xander
; The scream had me out of bed with my gun in hand. Darkness was a silent presence in my room. No shadows separated or took form as a threat. In my gut, I knew it was Riley, and I cursed her stubborn desire to stay in the next cabin alone. A glance at the clock said it was predawn. With quick steps, I slipped from my house and into the night, making sure not to make a sound.
The air was cool, the moon a half crescent, lending a sliver of light that reflected off the rolling water to my right. Stars peppered the sky. No movement caught my attention.
After the body had washed up, my radar was on high alert. Both Jaxon and I agreed that Riley was at the center of this mess. The difference was that I was sure she was innocent.
I aimed my gun as I crept onto her porch then entered through the unlocked door. A soft whimper drew me to one of the bedrooms, and I crossed the family room to where she slept.
The shades were up, a breeze cooled the room from the open window, and the moon’s silvery beam highlighted Riley as she tossed and turned in bed. I scanned the room before entering. With no threat detected, I secured my gun in my waistband.
A sob racked her chest, and she curled into a fetal position.
“Riley.” I laid a hand on her shoulder, and she jackknifed upright. The sheet pooled around her waist, revealing a stretchy, pale T-shirt. With a push of the switch at the base of the bedside lamp, a soft glow encircled us.
Her wide eyes blinked. The moment her unfocused gaze cleared, she threw herself into my arms. I held her tightly, rubbing her back. It didn’t take long before the tension in her body eased. Once she stopped shaking, I brushed a kiss across her forehead. In case it was a clue that would help find whomever was stalking her, I had to ask, “What were you dreaming about?”
“That night. The dreams returned when Charles and I fought and then the break-in made them worse. I see my parents lying there in a pool of blood. Their vacant stares… especially my mom’s.”