by Rebecca Deel
Interesting. He figured Darcy would tell White right off that Rio wasn’t her boyfriend and was pleased she didn’t bother to correct her agent’s mistaken assumption.
“Many couples have long-distance relationships. You can make it work, Darcy.” He tossed a pointed glance at Rio. “Unless he’s a Neanderthal and demands every minute of your time.”
“He isn’t like that,” Darcy protested. “I’m not interested in continuing in the same career. I’m transitioning to a different field. I don’t want to travel anymore.”
“I don’t understand you. You’re throwing your life away. All those hours of practicing down the drain. You love the attention, the fame you get from performing.”
“No, Allen, you love the notoriety of being my manager. I want a real life, one that doesn’t include long hours in a practice room by myself, an endless loop of impersonal hotel suites, media interviews, recording studios, and whatever food I can scrape together in the few hours I have. No more. Otter Creek is my home now. You have plenty of clients to keep you busy and now is the time to recruit more.”
White blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not giving up on this, Darcy. You’ll never be happy in a small town, not after you’ve experienced real life in the larger world.” He gestured to the neighborhood. “A run-down house, country bumpkin neighbors, a boyfriend who’s all brawn and no brains? This isn’t what you want. You’ll call in a couple weeks and beg me to book another tour for you.”
All brawn and no brains, huh? White was lucky Rio was in a good mood this morning. As it was, he was tempted to use those muscles to boot him off Darcy’s property. If the agent didn’t stop pushing, he’d change his mind about staying neutral and letting her handle the situation herself. One thing for sure, Trent wouldn’t have been nearly as patient.
“Don’t bet on it.” Darcy’s voice conveyed her growing annoyance. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in the past few years. Be careful driving home, Allen.”
“Not a chance, baby. I’m not leaving until I convince you to change your mind.”
The other man’s smug arrogance made Rio itch to plow a fist in his face. He glanced at Darcy. She might not want to tell her agent about her health limitation, but that might be the only way for him to accept her decision as final. Unless, of course, she wanted Rio to make him leave her alone, something he’d enjoy.
“Then you are in for a long stay, my friend. I’m headed in another career direction altogether.”
“Oh, yeah?” A sneer settled on his face. “What other talents do you have? Music is your life.”
“White,” Rio said, voice soft. He’d had about enough of this guy, especially since Darcy was starting to shiver from the cold. “You’ve had your say. It’s time for you to leave.”
The agent’s face reddened. “Keep your nose out of her business. If you want her to keep you in style, she must work.”
Did he seriously just say that? This clown thought Rio was interested in Darcy for her money? Darcy’s hand wrapped around his wrist. He glanced down at her. Temper glittered in her gaze. That made him pause. Was she angry at him or her abrasive agent?
“Aren’t there any decent restaurants in town?” the agent asked, his attention back on Darcy. “I’m sick of Delaney’s and I wouldn’t be caught dead in that burger place.”
Rio’s eyes narrowed.
“How long have you been in town?” Darcy asked.
“Five endless days. I couldn’t find you. No one knew where you were or they weren’t saying.”
“You arrived the same day I did? That borders on stalker behavior, Allen.”
Yep, it did, behavior that Rio viewed with even more suspicion considering what had been happening in the Victorian house. “What have you been doing all that time, White?”
“Not much,” he complained. “Reading, listening to real music, not this country and western garbage so popular in the area, and hunting around town for Darcy and places to eat. I can’t believe people live like this.”
“How did you find me here?” She leaned closer to Rio.
He’d give this conversation one more minute, then he was kicking the agent into his fancy luxury automobile parked at the curb. Rio turned Darcy more fully into his embrace in order to share his body heat with her.
White snorted. “Your purchase of this broken down wreck is the talk of the town, baby. I didn’t have to do anything but listen to the gossip to find this place. This is a waste of your money, you know. You’d be better off bulldozing this place and building something new.”
A sentiment Rio agreed with, not that he’d say it to Darcy. She wanted this place to shine and he planned to help her achieve her goal, even if it meant long hours at work, then more hours rehabbing the house. A violent shudder from Darcy had him tightening his arms around her. “Darcy needs to leave. You can call her later or set an appointment to talk to her.”
The agent opened his mouth to argue, got a good look at Rio’s face, and changed his mind.
Smart man. Rio rubbed his hands up and down Darcy’s back as White spun on his heel and stalked to his car. Seconds later, his taillights flashed as he turned the corner, heading into town.
“What’s it going to be, sweetheart? Into the car or back to the house to warm up?”
“Car.” Her teeth chattered. “I need to check on the deli’s progress.”
Rio ushered her to the car and helped her inside. Once the engine was cranked, he leaned in and kissed her before closing her door. A small wave and she backed out of the driveway. Shouldn’t take long for the temperature to warm up in the vehicle. An hour ago, he’d run her car long enough for the heat to kick on fast.
As he watched her drive down the street in White’s wake, his thoughts returned to the agent in question. This guy had been in town for several days. Could he be desperate enough to break into Darcy’s house and damage her floors, hoping to scare her back to a career he benefited from?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Darcy’s cheeks burned, partly from the cold wind, partly from temper. How dare Allen White breeze into town and try to bully her into returning to the performance stage? He’d never been a bully to her before. Then again, he’d never had reason to be. Until six months ago, Darcy had been content to let him handle the business side of her career. All she’d been concerned about was her music. He was a dogged business manager, a trait she’d valued in him until today. The man was good at his job and he’d worked hard. Along the way, Allen earned a lot of money and she had considered him well worth his exorbitant salary. Now she wondered if all that dedication was for her benefit or his.
Another hard shudder wracked her frame. She held one of her hands over a dashboard vent. The heat felt good to her frozen fingers. She’d only been in the car a couple minutes. The motel was only five minutes from the house, which meant someone had let it run. She knew to her frozen bones that someone was Rio Kincaid with his endearing habit of taking care of little details for her comfort.
She parked in front of the deli. Inside the storefront, she glanced at the busy workers, searching for Brian. She spotted him through the doorway leading into the kitchen. Darcy crossed the open space, skirting workers and equipment. Several of the crew smiled at her or waved as she passed by. “Hey, Brian.”
“Darcy, good to see you. How’s your brother?”
“Recovering. He’ll be fine in a few weeks.”
“Accidents are the pits to work through.”
Hmm. An accident, huh? Guess the grapevine didn’t know about her brother’s knife and bullet wounds. That would be pretty hard to explain. So, accident it was, then. “How are things going here?”
“Right on schedule. We’re finishing the electrical upgrade for your appliances today and starting the tile work in the front next week. I’ll work on your walk-in cooler tomorrow. We’re also starting on your refrigerated display cases tomorrow.”
“Perfect. Need anything from me?”
“What’s the word on y
our sign for the front?”
“Should be here by the end of next week.”
“Excellent. Once we finish the work here, we’ll start on your house.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You have your work cut out for you.”
“Why?”
“Someone took a crowbar to the wood floors in a few rooms.”
He winced. “Do you know why?”
“No clue. I hope you have a good carpenter on your crew.”
“We have several. Don’t worry, Darcy. We’ll take care of the floor and any other surprises that pop up.”
She hoped there weren’t more surprises. At some point, Trent would return to work and that would leave her in the house by herself. Not a comforting thought when weird things were happening. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
“Stop in again on Monday. We need to choose paint and take care of the walls before we lay the flooring. I’ll have paint samples for you to see.”
Minutes later, Darcy crossed the town square to Otter Creek Books. The first things she noticed were heat, scent of coffee, and the kaleidoscope of colors from yarn in bins and books on shelves. She scanned the interior, astonished at the size of the building. She’d never seen that much yarn in one place. Thick, thin, fuzzy, and everything in between. Made her itch to touch everything though she never learned to knit or crochet. There hadn’t been time.
Such a huge selection of books boggled her mind. This was a store she would visit frequently. Reading was one of her guilty pleasures. While on the road, she always had a book nearby.
“Welcome to Otter Creek Books. May I help you find anything?” A tall, dark-haired woman approached with a friendly smile on her face. “I’m Del, by the way.”
Ah. The bookstore owner and Josh Cahill’s wife. “I’m Darcy St. Claire.”
Del’s smile broadened. “Welcome to Otter Creek. Thank you for donating the books.”
“Will you be able to use them?”
“Quite a few. The rest I’ll donate to the library or the retirement homes in the area. You look frozen, Darcy. Would you like coffee?”
She inhaled deeply and wished she could indulge. However, she’d already begun to notice a difference in how she felt with the changes to her diet. “No coffee. Do you have tea?”
“Come sit at the counter. We carry a wide variety of herbal and green teas.” She slid a laminated list of available tea and coffee across the counter. “What would you like?”
Darcy studied the list and selected cranberry orange green tea. She could use a lift today. Orange flavored things always gave her a boost. “I met your husband earlier in the week. He’s been a great help at the house.”
The store owner ripped open the packet of tea and dropped the bag in a mug of steaming water. “Josh said the house was in a sorry state.”
“A better description is wreck or disaster. I’ve never seen so many things crammed in one place in my life.” She paused. “Did you know Gretchen Bond?”
Del shook her head. “I’ve only lived here a little over a year myself.” She glance up at a portly older gentleman as he walked toward the register. “Professor Cambridge might have known her.”
“Known who?” the man prompted, curiosity in his gaze.
“Gretchen Bond. She owned the house Darcy lives in.”
The professor’s eyes widened. “You bought the Victorian?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Darcy St. Claire.”
“Paul Cambridge, history professor at the community college. I’m sorry, Ms. St. Claire, but Ms. Bond and I were only acquaintances. Our main source of conversation was the architecture of her house. I’m fascinated with architecture, you see.” He paused. “Would you be willing to let me take photographs of the interior of your house sometime?”
She blinked. “I guess that would be okay.”
“Wonderful. Thank you, Ms. St. Claire.” He paid for his purchases and left.
A petite blond with a slight limp stepped behind the counter and lifted the glass dome off a plate of brownies. “Time for my chocolate fix.” Her bright blue gaze shifted to Darcy. “Would you like a brownie? My sister made them. They are to die for.”
Oh, boy, did she ever want one. “I’ll stick with hot tea.”
“I’m Madison Santana.”
“Any relation to Nick Santana?”
Madison’s eyes sparkled. “He’s my husband.”
“I’m Darcy St. Claire. Nick came to my house a few nights ago to investigate a break-in.”
“Do you own the Victorian?”
Darcy smiled. “I do.”
“I’ve always wanted to see inside that place. Nick said the lady who owned it before you was a hoarder.”
“It’s true. You couldn’t walk through without taking your life in your hands. It’s better now, though. Many people are helping me clear the place.”
“So I hear.” She smiled at Darcy’s puzzled look. “Small town and Josh is my brother. I know the bodyguard trainees are using this as extra physical conditioning.”
“I hope the time spent at the house doesn’t set them back.”
Madison waved her concern aside. “Don’t worry. Durango is very good at what they do. They won’t let training suffer.”
Del grinned. “Josh said the trainees are enjoying the change of pace. Seems they aren’t too keen on outside workouts in this weather. At least they’re warm in your house and Nate is feeding them well.”
“I’ll never be able to repay them.” Darcy frowned. “Actually, maybe I can once the deli is open.”
“Deli?” Madison polished off her brownie and poured herself a mug of coffee. “You’re opening a deli?”
“Across the square. I’m opening after the first of the year.”
“Fantastic. Something new to chase away the blues of winter. What’s the name of your deli?”
“That’s A Wrap. All the food will be served in wraps.”
“Oh, nice,” Del said. “That sounds great. How’s your brother?”
“Mending. I’m glad to have him with me for a while. We haven’t seen each other much for a few years.”
“His job?”
“And mine. It was rare for us to be on the same continent at the same time. I’m looking forward to a couple weeks with him.” A smile curved her lips. “I’ll be lucky to keep him with me that long. He’ll want to go home as soon as he’s mobile.”
“All the Fortress operatives I’ve met are the same way. What job kept you traveling so much?” Madison asked.
“Concert pianist.”
“No kidding.” She leaned on the counter. “Did you record?”
She nodded. “My stage name is Darcy Melton.”
“Oh, man. My husband has all your CDs. He loves your music. He doesn’t know who you are, does he?”
“Never came up.”
She rubbed her hands. “I can’t wait to tell him.”
Del placed the tea mug in front of Darcy. “Do you listen to classical guitar music?”
“I do. Why?”
She reached under the counter, pulled out a CD, and handed it to her. On the front cover was Nick Santana with his classical guitar. “I didn’t realize Detective Santana was this Nick Santana.” Darcy sighed. “Sounds stupid since the name isn’t exactly common. I love his music, but I never paid attention to what he looks like.”
“And you never expected to see him answering a call as law enforcement, either.” Madison grinned. “The shine of his stardom is a constant source of embarrassment to Nick. He just loves to play his guitar. Most of the money he makes from sales goes to charity.”
“That is nice.” She’d done something similar. Now she wouldn’t have the income to continue the practice. One thing at a time, she reminded herself. Once her deli was turning a profit, she could resume giving. Right now, though, she was leaking money like a sieve between the house and the deli.
Wind chimes over the door filled the store with sound as a woman with red hair shoved open the glass door and hurrie
d inside. “Good grief, it’s cold out there. Sorry I’m late, Del.”
“No problem, Annie. Everyone else must think it’s too cold to shop for books because it’s been slow today.” She motioned to Darcy. “Annie, Darcy St. Claire. Annie is one of my store clerks. She also helps Madison in the knitting store.”
“Nice to meet you, dear.” The older woman patted her on the shoulder. “Are you here visiting a friend or relative?”
“No, ma’am. I’m opening a deli.”
“We need a new place to eat around here.”
Del looked at her assistant, speculation in her gaze. “Annie, you’ve lived in Otter Creek a long time, right?”
“Ever since I married my sweet Henry when I was eighteen. I lived in Cherry Hill at the time. Why?”
“Maybe you can tell Darcy about Gretchen Bond.”
Red eyebrows winged upward as she returned her attention to Darcy. “Was she a relative of yours?”
“I bought her house.”
“You are one brave woman, Darcy St. Claire. Gretchen never liked to throw anything away.”
She gave a short laugh. “Believe me, I found that out the hard way. I’ve had an army of people helping me clear the rooms for several days. What can you tell me about Ms. Bond?”
Del patted Darcy’s hand. “I have to go to the community center with a load of books. I’ll leave you in Annie’s capable hands.”
“Take your time, dear,” Annie said. “Maybe have lunch with that handsome husband of yours if he’s awake.”
Del’s cheeks flushed. “I might do that. I’ll have my cell phone if you need me.” She pulled a business card from the pocket of her jeans and slid it to Darcy. “Call me. We’ll go to lunch.” She smiled. “From the sounds of it, we should do lunch soon. Once you open the deli, you won’t have much time for new friends.”
With a wave, the bookstore owner left. Another customer walked in the door, this one for Madison. Annie settled on a barstool beside Darcy. “Gretchen and I were friends. She was a school teacher and thrift was part of her DNA. Her father lived through the Great Depression and taught her not to waste anything. When she grew older, Gretchen took that philosophy a dozen steps farther.”