Dipped to Death

by Kelly Lane

  “Well, I don’t wear ’em to bed, if that’s what ya mean,” said Precious. “Of course, if y’all weren’t so rude creeping around the place all night long a person could catch up on her beauty sleep.” She laughed, motioning us into the building. “Y’all know I’m just kiddin’ with ya. Dolly’s in the pantry. I gave her a snack. All we had was leftover filet mignon and lobster tails. Mister Collier and Doc Payne are still in the library. Y’all come inside to the air-conditioning now—it’s too hot to be sittin’ out here. Sunshine, you need a Band-Aid or something?”

  “Not unless you have one big enough to cover my entire body,” I said ruefully.

  Buck chuckled.

  “Nope. Okay, I’ll leave you two alone. I gotta go check on somethin’ upstairs.”

  By the time Buck and I had stepped into the massive kitchen, already Precious was hustling off somewhere through an interior door.

  “Sheriff, you know your way around,” Precious said with a wave of her hand before disappearing.

  The Greatwoods kitchen was at least twice, maybe three times the size of my cottage, with a high ceiling, polished tile floor, black gas stove the size of a train, deep marble sink, baker’s racks, and an antique butcher-block table. The eye candy of the room was the ginormous metal pot rack. Two or three dozen polished copper pots and pans hung over a massive open-leg, marble-topped wooden island that must’ve been at least ten or twelve feet long.

  “Holy cow,” I said, looking around. My voice echoed in the big space. Then, “Wait. I don’t get it. About Dolly. Why would she come here?”

  Buck pointed to a doggie door in the bottom of the service door.

  “Her old stomping grounds,” he said with a shrug.

  Dolly must’ve heard my voice. I heard her feet skittering over the polished tile floor as she rounded a corner, coming from a room off the side of the big kitchen—I guessed it to be the pantry.

  “Dolly!” I cried, happy to see her.

  Dolly jumped up on my leg, all whimpers, licks, and wags. Then she went over to Buck and did the same thing. A moment later, she scampered back to the pantry . . . no doubt to finish her lobster and filet mignon. There was no denying it: My dog was spoiled. And a pig when it came to food.

  “Okay, so there’s a doggie door here,” I said to Buck. “So what?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Dolly’s mother is one of Ian’s hounds.”

  “Are you kidding me? Dolly came from here? You mean, she was Ian’s?”

  Buck nodded.

  “Why has no one told me this? Daddy, Daphne . . . they never said a word! How come you know and I don’t?”

  Daddy and Daphne had given me Dolly as a present when I’d first arrived home that summer. They thought a new puppy would help cheer me up after my heartbreak and all of the hullabaloo in Boston.

  “You’ll have to ask them. C’mon. Our host is waiting in the library.” Buck turned to leave the kitchen.

  “Just a minute!” I grabbed Buck’s arm. “Did you forget the giant elephant in the room? Or rather, in the woods out there? What’s going on? Why are military guys with guns crawling all over the place?”

  “They’re Navy Seals.”

  “What?”

  Buck just lifted his eyebrows.

  “Navy Seals? Here? In Abundance? Right in my backyard? Why?”

  “Practice makes perfect, Babydoll.”

  “What?”

  “You ever play capture the flag?”

  “Yes, of course. We used to play all the time as kids.”

  “That’s kind of what’s going on out there. A big game of capture the flag.”

  “Okay. You need to do better than that. Explain.” I crossed my arms.

  “Sometimes military ops need a certain kind of terrain to practice and train for particular missions. Sometimes Abundance fits the bill. Ian lets them use Greatwoods.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “I’m deadly serious.”

  “So the helicopter . . .”

  “Was dropping off a special ops team. There were two drop-offs tonight.”

  “And they’re all running around in the woods trying to capture one another?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What if someone gets killed?”

  “They won’t. Not on purpose, anyway.”

  “Oh, that’s reassuring.” I rolled my eyes. “But they had guns. Big ones!”

  “Some are paintball guns. However, those are the only things that aren’t real for them. They would have found you—make no mistake, they would have—and you might’ve been detained for a bit. Probably would’ve been half a day or so before you’d have gotten out.”

  “Are you for real? They’d hold me prisoner?”

  “No. It’s just that they have a mission . . .”

  “A make-believe mission.”

  “Not to them. Anyway, you would’ve been a complication, and complications can take time to rectify. They can’t afford to have you compromise a mission.”

  “I thought they were trying to kill us! You’re telling me now that it was all a game? You could have at least shared that with me while I lay in the woods thinking it’d be my last night on earth!”

  “I explained . . .”

  I raised my hand. “Stop! Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

  Buck raised his eyebrows again. Then he smiled and brushed his hand across my cheek. I hadn’t even realized a tear was there.

  “Don’t fret, Babydoll.”

  “I’m not.” I bit my lip.

  “Right. Anyway, when Dolly showed up here tonight, apparently, she popped straight through her old doggie door in the kitchen and made her way directly to us in the library, like she owned the place. I guessed you weren’t far behind. So I went looking.”

  “And what if the Navy Seals had found Dolly in the woods?”

  “She’d have been neutralized.”

  “No!”

  Buck chuckled. “Nothing permanent. However, this is as close to real ops as it gets. So it’s no holds barred out there.”

  “And you know all this . . . how?”

  “I’m not exactly an impartial bystander. Let’s just say that I’ve got connections. Besides, as the local sheriff, they have to coordinate the operation with me. That’s one reason I’ve been hanging around here tonight. Just to be sure everything goes without a hitch.”

  “Connections?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not being very forthcoming here.”

  “It’s not my place.”

  I sighed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means what I said.”

  “Which is nothing.”

  “If you see it that way.”

  “Argh! I hate this. Why must you always play games with me?”

  “I’m not playing games. You just don’t have a need to know.”

  “Right. So it’s ‘need to know’ only?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That sounds like government clearance talk to me.”

  One of my public relations clients back in New England had been a government contractor. The company hired me to deal with the local community and media when they acquired a parcel of land and built a new facility to manufacture communications devices for the United States military. I’d actually been awarded a Secret government clearance. It wasn’t very high up the totem pole, but it was enough to recognize some of the jargon when I heard it. It’s also how I’d recognized the Chinook—not that there’s much else out there like it.

  “If you say so,” said Buck.

  “That’s Buck-speak for ‘yes.’ Okay. I’m getting the hang of this now,” I said, trying to coax more from him.

  “You’re not going to quit
, are you?”

  “No. Would you? You’re all up to something, and I want to know what it is.”

  “Okay. Stop.” Buck raised his hand, then thought for a moment. “So, I’m not saying this is the case; however, theoretically, sometimes the government doesn’t exactly cut a person loose, when it appears that they have.”

  There was a beat while I let what he said soak in.

  “You were . . . are . . . in the military? That’s where you went when people said you left Abundance for all those years while I was away. The military?”

  “I didn’t say military. You did. Let’s just call it ‘protective service.’”

  “What the heck is that?”

  Buck shrugged. “Whatever you want it to be. You’ve got a Secret clearance. You figure it out.”

  “How do you know that? About my clearance?”

  Buck smiled with those damned dimples. “A good operative never reveals his sources.”

  “This is surreal.”

  “Your words, not mine, babe. Shall we go to the library?” He gestured toward a door.

  “You’re not going to tell me any more, are you?” I remained planted in the kitchen.

  “No.” Buck kept walking toward the door. “And you’re not going to ask me any more or talk about it with anyone. Understand? The only reason I clued you in was because you stumbled into it. And I knew that you wouldn’t let it go. So now that you know what it’s all about, I’m telling you: Let it go.”

  This was the second man in less than twenty-four hours to tell me not to talk about what we’d just talked about. Or what’d just happened.

  What gives?

  “Still, theoretically,” I said, ignoring what Buck had just said, “if someone were doing whatever it is they’re looking like they’re not really doing, why would they come back home to the middle of nowhere to ‘not’ do it?”

  “I can’t answer that, other than to say that home in ‘the middle of nowhere,’ as you put it, would be the most logical place for a person to be doing what it appears he is not doing, if there were some reason to do it.” Buck turned to leave the kitchen.

  “What?” I needed time to process what he was saying. But as Buck started to leave, my mind flew elsewhere . . . “Wait!”

  I grabbed the back of Buck’s arm as he stepped away. My hand barely wrapped halfway around his muscled bicep. He turned to face me. I got another whiff of his damned captivating cologne. I felt paralyzed by exotic spices, patchouli, baby powder, something honeyed and warm . . .

  I shook my head. “Why did you kiss me tonight?” I demanded.

  “Talk about a non sequitur!” Buck laughed.

  He took my elbows in his hands and leaned in close. He waited a moment before answering. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end . . .

  “Because I wanted to, Eva.”

  There came that devilish smile that I remembered from our early days. And again, somehow we were nose to nose. My insides flipped.

  “And you didn’t seem to mind,” he whispered in my ear. His breath was warm. I felt his lips brushing against my ear.

  Quickly this time, he pulled me toward him, wrapping his arms around me as he planted a wet, wild kiss on my lips. I could feel the heat rise up the back of my neck. My cheeks flushed. My knees felt weak. And this time, I kissed Buck back. I put my hands around his neck, mashed myself into him, and kissed him long and hard. He was warm, soft. Familiar. I felt like I was seventeen again.

  Young, happy, and blissfully in love.

  It was the longest kiss ever.

  I pulled back. Embarrassed. I stared down at the polished marble floor. Then I looked up. Buck’s eyes were flashing.

  “What about Debi?” I whispered, remembering how humiliated he’d made me feel at the Roadhouse. I took both hands and pushed Buck away.

  “Debi? Debi Dicer?” Buck pulled me toward him again. “What about Debi?” he asked playfully. He gave my ear a nibble.

  I put my hand up, and again I pushed back on Buck’s muscled chest. He dropped his arms and stepped back.

  “I mean, aren’t you engaged?” I asked. I wiped my forehead and put my hands on my hips. “And why didn’t you acknowledge me tonight at the Roadhouse? You made me feel like crap, by the way.”

  “I may not have spoken to you, Babydoll. However, I sure noticed you. Every man in the place was ogling you. Did you know, you look sweet as sugar all wet and covered in beer? It was all I could do not to grab you and kiss you all over. Actually, just thinking about it now . . .”

  He stepped toward me, looking like he wanted to kiss me again. I put my hand out to stop him.

  This is all play for him, I thought. It’d been stupid of me to kiss him. It was all a game for Buck. Probably all lies. All of it. Most likely the government stuff, too. It was just like my old prankster boyfriend Buck to have been pulling my leg the whole time.

  Aw, heck.

  I was a mess when it came to men. Always making the wrong decisions. I didn’t know what to think. My heart was still racing.

  “Are you telling me that you and Debi are not planning on getting married?”

  “Engaged? Me and Debi?” Buck teased. “She’s not really my type.” He grinned and advanced toward me again.

  I put my hand up again. He stopped.

  “Not your type? Then why are you with her all the time? Goodness knows, she practically lives with you, from what I hear. And you kissed her on the cheek tonight after she nibbled on your ear . . . in public! Do you hear me? Nibbled on your ear! What were you thinking? You’re the darned sheriff, for gosh sakes!”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Buck Tanner. You can’t even look at me when you’re with her. I’d say that’s because you’re guilty. For whatever reason—and I don’t dare imagine what it is—you can’t get enough of Debi. And just so you know, it irritates the snot out of me.”

  Buck laughed. “I’m happy to hear it. It irritates the snot out of me when I see every other man lusting after you. Especially when you’re drenched in beer!”

  “Don’t play with me, Buck. I’m not going to let you, or any man, hurt me again. Got it?”

  “Okay. I got it. Loud and clear. Seriously, let’s just say Debi is no more than a means to an end.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’ve got nothing to worry about, Babydoll. I’m all yours. Always have been. Now, c’mon.” Buck took my elbow. “Dolly can stay in the pantry. It’s late. Ian is waiting for us.”

  “But what does that mean? About Debi! A means to an end?”

  Buck didn’t answer as he pushed open the door and pulled me through.

  CHAPTER 34

  No doubt about it, I thought, my life was becoming more bizarre with each passing hour.

  There’d been another death . . . my estranged ex-fiancé. And as it had been with earlier deaths that summer, the circumstances surrounding his demise had been odd, to say the least. Then I was pushed in front of a parade truck; then I crashed a vehicle, for the second time during that summer, on Benderman’s Curve. And Ian Collier had come to my rescue both times. Except the second time, I’d interrupted him threatening a man in a foggy field and his manservant had nearly shot my head off.

  At the Roadhouse, my conversation with Claudia had unnerved me. And Buck had ignored me while Debi insulted me. Then, Precious and I heard that my ex-fiancé was probably murdered. And the creepy conversation I’d overheard in the olive grove between Wiggy, Spencer, and Coop made me wonder even more about what, exactly, had happened to Dex. Had one of them killed him? And for what possible reason? Was it somehow connected to real estate in Abundance?

  And at Greatwoods Plantation, mysterious helicopters were dropping off Navy Seals who were running around playing capture the flag in the woods at night. Dolly had returned “home” t
o her mansion where she was served filet mignon and lobster tails. And, Debi Dicer and Buck were not getting married, not even close, according to Buck, even though for weeks Debi’d been by his side all over town, telling everyone she knew that she and Buck were getting married and would be popping out babies, imminently. Still, according to Buck, Debi was merely “a means to an end.” Was he talking about sex?

  Gross.

  And Buck was, or was still, in the military—no, wait, what did he call it? Ahh yes. “Protective service.” Whatever that was.

  And Precious Darling wore Louboutin pumps twenty-four, seven, except when she was sleeping, of course. But then, did she ever sleep? By the same token, did anyone ever sleep at Greatwoods Plantation? It was probably well past three in the morning, probably closer to four, and the place was lit up like a Christmas tree. Buck, Doc Payne, and Ian had been carousing in the library . . .

  Eye roll.

  Weirder still, I thought, was the very fact that Buck Tanner was hanging out with Ian Collier at all. And in the middle of the night?

  What gives?

  Does anyone ever sleep around here?

  Moreover, even as I pined away for Ian—I couldn’t help myself; by all accounts he was one of the sexiest men alive—Buck, the other sexiest man alive, had just planted on me the biggest, wettest, most swooningly wonderful kiss that I’d ever experienced in my life, bar none. And much to my surprise, I’d jumped in and kissed him back with every bit of heart and passion that I had. And it’d felt good. No, it’d felt great. Maybe even greater than great. It was insides-melting, knee-buckling, earth-shattering, heavens-moving great. Afterward, Buck had said, I’m all yours. Except, he wasn’t all mine. Not at all. He was with Debi.

  Wasn’t he?

  Good thing I had my man moratorium going for me.

  Yeah. Right.

  Sure. I can handle this, I thought, as I followed Buck through the massive Greatwoods ballroom, a gape-worthy mini Versailles. No problem. Still, the thought crossed my tired and confused brain that perhaps being inside the mansion was the opportunity I’d been looking for. Perhaps, I might somehow be able to get some answers about what my mysterious neighbor was up to, besides hosting military games.