Desperate Intentions (HQR Intrigue)

by Carla Cassidy

  She took another drink and then continued. “Anyway, fast forward a year and we had Katie. My only real complaint at that time was that Blake wasn’t a good and present parent. He still liked to party and I thought it was time for him to grow up. We fought a lot about it and finally I told Blake I was ready to walk out of the marriage and he promised to be a better husband and father. I got pregnant again and when we learned the baby was a boy, Blake seemed delighted. But when Sammy was born blind, Blake was bitterly disappointed and wanted nothing to do with his son. I think that was when he started cheating on me. Anyway, Sammy was a little over two when I was ready to leave the marriage, but Blake beat me to it and served me divorce papers. He immediately left to stay with friends in Florida and then a year after he moved I learned he’d died in a motorcycle wreck.”

  She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry that I’ve just been rambling on.”

  “Don’t apologize, and I’m sorry about your husband’s death,” Troy said. He wondered if she was aware of how her facial features spoke her emotions. She’d told the story very matter-of-factly, but her expressions as she’d told him of the cheating and her husband’s lack of love toward the children had been of deep pain and anger.

  “Thanks. I never wished him dead, but I certainly wished him out of my life for Katie’s and Sammy’s sakes. His continued rejection of them would have eventually harmed them irreparably.” Her eyes blazed for a moment. “I won’t let anything or anyone hurt my kids.”

  For a moment Troy couldn’t find his voice as he thought of his own daughter and how careless he’d been with her life. Eliza would have never, ever been so careless.

  “I’m sorry to admit it, but any love I felt for Blake turned into hate by the time we separated. Of course, the kids will never know my real feelings for their father.” She gave a small laugh and shook her head. “I’m sorry. Not only have I been rambling on, but I’m also keeping you from sleep.”

  “I’m still not a bit sleepy, but if you’re ready to call it a night, please feel free to go on upstairs.”

  “I’m still wound up too tight to go to sleep,” she replied. “I just can’t imagine who might have been in my house and why they were there.”

  “What do you know about the old man who lived there?” he asked, grateful that the conversation had moved on from children before he began to fall into dark thoughts of his past.

  “Frank?” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “Not much. I know he raised Blake and I met him a few times. Even though he raised Blake the two didn’t seem to be very close.”

  “I heard a few rumors from some of the other neighbors that Frank Malone was once some kind of a mobster.”

  “Really?” She sat up straighter. “Blake certainly never told me that about his grandfather.”

  Troy shrugged. “I’m not even sure if it’s true. It was just a rumor I heard when I first bought my house.”

  “Still, that might explain the secret stairway and the hiding places the kids have found in the house. Maybe I need to do a little research into the late Frank Malone.”

  “What about Blake’s parents?” he asked curiously. “If Blake was raised by his grandfather then what happened to his parents?”

  “According to Blake, his mother, Frank’s daughter, and his father got into drugs real bad. They were homeless a lot and eventually they dropped Blake off at Frank’s when he was five years old and he never heard from or saw them again.”

  “That’s tough,” Troy replied. “So you don’t know if they’re dead or alive.”

  “I don’t have a clue.” She frowned. “Maybe I need to check them out, too. If they’re alive and got sober they might be real upset that I inherited the house, but you’d think they would have protested the will or whatever by now.” She relaxed back into the sofa and eyed him curiously. “I’ve told you all about my failed marriage. Now it’s your turn. Why did your marriage end?”

  He stared at her as an old despair lodged inside his chest, tightening to the point he wasn’t sure he would be able to speak. He swallowed hard and then began his tale. “My marriage ended when my daughter was kidnapped and killed and it was all my fault.”

  He hadn’t expected to say those words; rather, they had exploded out of him as if from under an enormous pressure. He continued to stare at her, both appalled and yet oddly relieved. It was the first time he’d uttered those words aloud to anyone in the three years since Annie’s murder.

  “Oh, Troy,” she said softly.

  He looked down into his glass. “It was a normal Saturday morning and it was our routine for Daddy and Annie to go to the arcade while Mommy got her hair and nails done.” It had always been precious father-daughter time, just the two of them hanging out while Mommy was busy.

  At that time Troy had worked long hours growing his business, but he was always available on Saturdays to spend time with his daughter and she was always so excited about the day of Daddy time. He looked forward to those times, too. Children grew up so fast and he was determined to enjoy as much time as possible with his daughter.

  He paused and downed the last of the liquid in his glass, wishing he could drink enough that he would forever forget that in the blink of an eye he’d lost his sweet Annie forever. But he’d been there and tried that and it hadn’t worked. Nothing worked as an escape from this agony.

  He placed the glass on a nearby end table and then stood, unable to sit still as he told her the whole ugly story. And when he was finished, she would probably look at him with disgust and not want anything more to do with him. And maybe that would be the best for both of them.

  He stared at the wall to the left of where she sat on the sofa. “We went to the neighborhood arcade as usual. Annie loved the arcade. Anyway, we’d been there about an hour when I noticed they’d put in a new pinball machine. I normally didn’t play the machines, but instead always watched Annie play, but I decided to play that damned pinball machine.”

  For a moment his head filled with the flashing lights and boinks and pings of the machine. “Play it, Daddy,” Annie had said. And he had. He’d been completely caught up in the game.

  He attempted to draw in a deep breath, but it caught painfully in his chest. He began to pace as all the memories of that horrible day pierced through him.

  Annie had worn a pink blouse with a purple pair of shorts...her two favorite colors. A ribbon held her thick blond hair in a ponytail that bobbed and bounced with her every movement. She had been such a pretty child with her mother’s blond coloring and Troy’s mouth and bright blue eyes.

  “I only took my eyes off her for a minute or two, but that’s all it took. I finished the game and when I turned around she was gone.” He stopped pacing as the hollow wind of despair rushed through him. “They found her body the next day in a trash bin two blocks away from the arcade.”

  When he’d first been unable to find her, he’d screamed her name over and over again in the arcade, frantic to find her. It didn’t take him long to realize she was nowhere in the building.

  The police had arrived and asked to see the surveillance tapes only to discover the equipment had malfunctioned a week before and hadn’t been fixed.

  Troy had gone outside, still screaming her name as he searched for any sign of his little girl. He’d called Sherry, who had joined the frantic search. That had been the longest, most horrifying night of his life.

  To his horror, tears now pressed hot at his eyes, and the back of his throat closed up. All of his stomach muscles clenched tight and he knew he couldn’t hold back the raw emotions that ripped through him.

  “Oh, Troy.” Eliza jumped up off the sofa and reached for him. She pulled him into her arms and he held her tight as his tears began to fall.

  He’d thought he’d cried all he could when Annie had first gone missing. He’d believed he’d sobbed out the last of his tears whe
n her little body had been found tossed away in a trash bin and later when they’d laid her to rest.

  These tears were different from the ones he’d cried at those times. His crying now was less intense and prompted by a deep, profound sadness that he knew would always be with him.

  It didn’t take long before he managed to pull himself together. He released his hold on Eliza and stepped back from her. “God, I’m so sorry,” he said with a mixture of both embarrassment and humiliation. “I didn’t know I was going to do that. I... I’ve never done that before in front of anyone.”

  “Please don’t apologize.” She reached out and grabbed his hand and guided him to the sofa where they both sat. He swiped a hand through his hair. He drew in a deep breath and then slowly released it. “Anyway, Sherry, my wife, couldn’t abide to even look at me afterward. She blamed me and within three months she was gone, too.”

  “Did they ever catch the person responsible?” Eliza asked. She leaned toward him and her evocative scent filled his head, and for some inexplicable reason it brought him a modicum of comfort.

  “They got him. His name is Dwight Weatherby. He’s a known sex offender, a pedophile, and when the police questioned him they saw Annie’s hair ribbons on his coffee table.” His stomach clenched once again, this time with a hint of the rage that had prompted him to walk a line outside of the law.

  “I hope he’s now rotting in a prison somewhere.”

  “No, he isn’t. He’s walking around as free as a bird.” He couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into his voice.

  Eliza gasped. “How is that possible?” She reached out and took his hand once again.

  “A woman friend of his alibied him for the time of the kidnapping and insisted the hair ribbons were her daughter’s. The prosecutor refused to take the case because there just wasn’t enough evidence. But I know he’s guilty. I saw a picture of those ribbons and they were in Annie’s hair the day I took her to the arcade. I tied those ribbons in her hair myself and they weren’t just plain pink, they had pale purple edges, and they were missing when she was found in that dumpster.”

  Eliza squeezed his hand. Her eyes were a deep smoky gray with a softness, a compassion he hadn’t realized he’d hungered for until this very moment. “I should have never played that damned game. I should have never taken my eyes off her for a single second. I was careless with her. I got her killed.”

  “Troy, you can’t blame yourself for this. It happened because of an evil man, not because of anything you did wrong. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He fell into her soft gaze and all he could think about was his need to kiss her, to connect with her in a way that would vanquish his guilt and take the edge off his grief.

  She seemed to sense his need, for she leaned forward and he captured her soft lips with his. The gentle kiss they shared wasn’t enough. He touched the edge of her lower lip with his tongue, seeking entry.

  She met his tongue with hers and just that quickly the flames of desire burned hot inside him. He leaned back and pulled her closer to his body as the kiss continued.

  Her heart beat as quickly as his own, a rapid tattoo that encouraged him to slide his hands beneath his robe and to roam up and down her back against the cool silk of her nightgown.

  All rational thought fell away as he gave himself to the moment, and the only woman who had offered him any kind of redemption, the redemption he hadn’t received from anyone else, including himself.

  Her scent surrounded him, torching his desire even hotter as his lips claimed hers once again. He wanted her with a hunger he couldn’t ever remember feeling for any other woman.

  She was so soft, so giving, and he wanted to lose himself in her. All he could think about was how much he’d like to take her right now.

  “Eliza.” He whispered her name softly as his mouth left hers. He wanted to get lost in the undeniable, overwhelming desire he had for her.

  “Troy, we can’t. Not here and not now.” Her words pierced through the veil of his arousal and he instantly raised his hands from her.

  She sat up and the look she gave him was one of both regret and promise. “I’m sorry, Troy. It’s been such a crazy night and I don’t think...”

  “It’s all right. Don’t apologize.” He gave her a reassuring smile. She was right. It had been a crazy night and he didn’t want to take her like a lusty teenager on the sofa. And when he did make love to her he wanted to be sure she was as into it as he would be. He wanted her head to be completely clear when they went to bed together.

  It had been an emotional night for both of them and he didn’t want those emotions to drive her to do something she really didn’t want to do. When they made love he wanted no regrets.

  Would he have reacted with such desire to any available woman? Would he have even told another woman about Annie and his guilt? Somehow he didn’t think so. There was just something special about Eliza.

  One thing was for certain: if somebody had been in her house...somebody who intended her or her children harm, come hell or high water, Troy intended to be there to protect them.

  He would do for them what he hadn’t done for his daughter and maybe...just maybe in protecting them he would finally find a bit of forgiveness for himself.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning Troy walked them home after a breakfast of fresh doughnuts he’d picked up from the local bakery before anyone else was awake.

  The kids were delighted with the sugary meal, but were disappointed that they’d slept through the fun of a slumber party with the neighbor.

  “We need to have another slumber party when Sammy and I are awake,” Katie said as they walked across the lawn. “Maybe next time you could spend the night at our house, Mr. Troy. We could play games and have popcorn and ice cream.”

  Troy looked at Eliza and grinned. His blue eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief. “That sounds like fun, but it would be up to your mom.”

  She knew what he was thinking about and she’d scarcely stopped thinking about it since the moment she’d opened her eyes that morning...that unbridled desire that had nearly exploded out of control between them the night before.

  “What about it, Mom? When can Mr. Troy come over and spend the night with us?” Sammy asked.

  “We’ll just have to wait and see,” she replied, and kept her gaze off Troy. Everything between them suddenly felt as if it were happening too fast. Granted, they had learned a lot about each other the night before, but she’d really known him for only a week.

  Besides, she didn’t know how much of her own fear combined with his heartbreaking past had stoked the explosive desire inside her. Would she have fallen into his arms so easily if she hadn’t been scared out of her house? Would she have kissed him with such passion if he hadn’t shared the tragic events of his past? She really didn’t know.

  The one thing she did know was that she wasn’t ready to fall into bed with anyone. There was no question there was a huge amount of lust between them, but she wasn’t comfortable exploring that with him right now. It was just too soon.

  “Why don’t you show me around your house?” he suggested when she unlocked the front door. She smiled at him gratefully. She had a feeling he didn’t care about seeing her home, but rather wanted to assure them both that nobody was inside.

  “I can show you my room, Mr. Troy,” Katie said eagerly. She grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “I’ve got a pink room with lots of dolls.”

  He laughed as they went up, with Eliza and Sammy following behind. He looked at Katie’s room and oohed and aahed over the frilly pink bedspread and the dolls that were seated at the small pink-and-purple plastic table. He showed endless patience as Katie introduced each doll to him one by one.

  “What a nice shade of blue,” he said when they entered Sammy’s room. He stopped and looked at Eliza, obviously appalled b
y his reference to a color Sammy couldn’t see. “I’m sorry, Sammy.”

  Sammy smiled and sat on the edge of his bed. “Don’t be sorry, Mr. Troy. I’ve got different colors in my head. Katie gave me different colors.”

  “I told him green looks like the way celery tastes. Blue looks the way blueberries taste,” Katie explained.

  “Yellow looks like the sun when it warms your face,” Sammy continued. “I don’t know if the colors in my imagination are right or not, but at least Katie and Mom help me see things differently. Mom says I have a great imagination.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Troy replied.

  “Come on, Sammy. Come into my room and play dolls with me,” Katie said.

  When the kids left Sammy’s room, Troy checked Sammy’s closet as he had done in Katie’s room. He closed the door and then turned to look at Eliza.

  “Your children are absolutely amazing.”

  She smiled. “They are, aren’t they?”

  “And now I’d like to check out your bedroom.”

  Her bed was a double, not a king, and she wondered if he noticed that the peach-colored dust ruffle was frayed and worn. “Looks cozy,” he said.

  The words appeared to have been said innocently enough, but the vision they evoked in her head was definitely X-rated. It was far too easy to imagine the two of them naked and cozy beneath the peach-colored sheets. She quickly shoved the image out of her head.

  “Do you mind if I check in your closet?” he asked.

  “Go for it. I’d appreciate it,” she replied.

  When they were finished in her room, they headed for the stairs. “What’s up there?” he asked, and gestured upward.

  “Three large bedrooms and a bathroom. I don’t have anything in any of the rooms up there,” she replied.

  “Then it should just take me a minute or two to check them out.” He didn’t wait for her response, but instead took the stairs two at a time.