Silver Sparks

by Starr Ambrose

  He tried again. “That wasn’t even the first event. Someone jumped Maggie yesterday morning right outside that front door, and nearly choked her to death. He even mimicked cutting her throat.”

  The throat-cutting did it. Amber’s eyes darted to Maggie, then back to his. She swallowed. “But if I helped . . .”

  “Amber, they’ll use you against me. They’ll target you in order to get me to back off. Trust me on this. I want to get him, too, but I don’t want anyone hurt in the process.”

  Amber looked pained, the first crack he’d seen in her tough armor. “She was my sister,” she repeated in a tight voice that was little more than a whisper.

  “And you’re my sister,” he told her. “I can’t lose you, too, and I don’t want to have to worry about them going after you. Let me handle this.”

  He saw tears pool in her eyes. Saw her fight them back, determined to stay strong. That got to him, and he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. For a second she stiffened, then she buried her face in his shirt and sniffled once as he stroked the bright blue streaks in her hair.

  He’d give anything if he could make her world easier. He couldn’t give her back her sister, or give her a mother who put her child before her husband of the moment. But he could at least give her a brother who cared, and put the bastard who’d killed her sister in prison where he belonged.

  He looked up and saw Maggie watching them with an expression he couldn’t read. She had to understand, though—she was also trying to shield a sister from the De Lucas. He envied the close relationship she had with Zoe and Sophie, and wondered wistfully if it was too late to find that with his own sister.

  He set Amber back with a last stroke down her hair. Blue? He might get to know his sister better, but he feared he’d never understand her.

  Maggie spoke up. “You’d better get out of here with Amber before the rest of the news crews get here and start asking who she is. They didn’t see her come in, but now they’re parked outside. They’ll see her when you leave.”

  He couldn’t argue with her if she was going to be careful and sensible. “I wish you’d come with us. You don’t need to stay here.”

  “It’s my house, and unless the De Lucas drive a truck through the front window, I’m staying.” She walked to the closet and pulled out a parka with a fur-trimmed hood. “Here, Amber. Put this on. They won’t be able to recognize you.”

  Leaving her with no one to see if the De Lucas’ thugs came creeping around her bushes again. “You have dead bolts—use them,” Cal told her sternly. “And promise me you won’t open the door or go outside for any reason until I come get you tomorrow morning.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Promise, Maggie. I mean it. Not even if Publishers Clearing House is standing on the porch with balloons and a huge check.”

  “I’m taking the check.”

  She wasn’t taking it seriously enough, but it was the best he was going to get. Muttering to himself about being cursed with stubborn women, he grabbed Amber’s backpack and opened the front door.

  Then looked back at Maggie.

  Oh, hell. Let Amber wonder. In three quick strides, he went back and pulled Maggie against him, kissing her with all the passion he could manage with his sister watching. He’d probably get peppered with questions all the way to his cabin, but it was worth it just to see the warm flush that heated Maggie’s cheeks.

  “’Night,” he said quietly.

  “Um, yeah.”

  He smiled. Damn, he loved catching Maggie off-guard. She could use a bit more of that in her life.

  He figured he was the perfect man for the job.

  Maggie discovered that nothing dislodged reporters when they smelled a story. When temperatures dropped, they simply left their trucks running all night and kept the heaters on. They were still in front of her house in the morning when Cal showed up, ramming his truck through the melting snow in her driveway. She opened the door, stepping onto the porch to enjoy the return of warm weather, then flinched at the barrage of questions the reporters yelled from the street.

  “Cal, how do you know Maggie? Is it true she left you for Rafe? Are you two engaged? There’s Maggie! Maggie, what did you think of Rafe’s comment—”

  The second Cal was over the threshold she slammed the door, reveling in the silence. “Where’s Amber?”

  “I left her at my place.” They were alone together, exactly as they were before Amber showed up. She already knew there would be no such thing as mild flirting if she got close to Cal.

  She started for the kitchen but he grabbed her hand, bringing her up short. “Listen, Maggie, something came up. I don’t want to leave you alone, but Tara Kolinowski’s parents agreed to meet with me this afternoon if I can get to Denver.”

  “I can’t go to Denver. I have a million things to take care of at the store.”

  “I know.”

  She smiled at the worried creases on his forehead. “Cal, I’ll be fine. Contractors and insurance people will be in and out of Fortune’s Folly all day. Plus, you can leave Amber with me and you won’t have to worry about either one of us.”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “Good, because she refused to go to Denver with me. Said she was just there yesterday. And I think she’s already had enough of trees and rocks, which is all the Lost Canyon Lodge has to offer.” He frowned. “She resents me for not being in their lives, and I can’t blame her. I think she’s decided to be opposed to anything I want to do to keep her safe.”

  “Teenagers. Aren’t they great?”

  He snorted. “More like obstinate. I swear it’s easier to deal with gang members and street thugs than with Amber.”

  “You mean when you have a badge and a gun to back you up?” At his look of interest, she wagged her finger at him. “Unh-uh. If I can’t shoot paparazzi, you can’t shoot Amber. Just learn to deal with the frustration.”

  “Funny you should mention that.” The gleam that lit his eyes wasn’t even close to funny. “I’ve recently thought of a good way to deal with my frustrations.”

  She’d forgotten he was holding her hand until he tugged her closer. Her forehead nearly bumped into his chin and she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. Up close they were smoky gray, with a lazy sexuality that knocked the breath out of her. It was hard to get it back when his fingers brushed beneath her hair, sending shivers all the way down her back.

  While she concentrated on remembering how to breathe, he brushed his lips against her ear, then her cheek, then took her mouth in a long, deep kiss that left her heart racing and her pulse hammering in her ears. “I think my frustrations are beginning to go away,” he murmured.

  She inhaled deeply, smelling a hint of shaving lotion. “I think you’re creating whole new ones,” she told him, unable to resist burying her nose against his neck to enjoy the scent.

  “Don’t worry, I know how to relieve them.”

  She was sure he’d be very good at relieving them. Then afterward he’d remember how much she irritated him, and she’d remember that she no longer jumped into bed with guys she barely knew, and they’d both regret the whole thing. “You don’t like me,” she reminded him. “I make you crazy.”

  “I like you just fine. In fact, I like you a lot. It’s your reckless ideas that make me crazy.”

  “Then you might not like what I have to tell you.”

  He stopped the nibbling that was sending delicious tingles down her neck, sighed, and laid his forehead against hers. “You’ve done something else?”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic. This time I waited to run it by you.”

  He raised his head. “Really? I’m honored.”

  She dove into her explanation. “I’m sure Rafe and his family think they’ve finally shut me up for good. They made sure I lost business, then wrecked my store on top of it.”

  He gave her a wary look. “What, that’s not enough for you?”

  “It’s more than enough. It’s over
kill, which might work in my favor. The De Lucas are arrogant. A lot of people in this town don’t like them for that.”

  “And they love the Larkins?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But people do sympathize with the underdog. And in this case, that’s me.”

  “So you want sympathy?”

  “No, I want to save Fortune’s Folly! Rafe and his family made sure I lost a ton of business from canceled orders, and with the store closed for repairs I’m going to lose even more. But maybe if people know what they did, I could entice others to place orders with me simply to show the De Lucas that they can’t willfully destroy the people and businesses they don’t like.”

  “A retail showdown?”

  “Why not? Because who knows what other business will be next? Will we all have to tiptoe around, making sure not to piss off the De Lucas? Or do we stand up to them by showing them they can’t get away with it?”

  “By buying something from Fortune’s Folly.”

  She nodded, then nervously chewed her thumbnail. “What do you think?”

  He was silent for several seconds as he thought about it. “I think it won’t work.”

  Instantly, her brows slammed down as her temper shot up. “I knew it! You’re opposed to anything I want to do.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are! And if it would help you prove that Rafe is a killer, I’d let them trash my reputation, I really would. But I’m not going to roll over and play dead while the De Lucas trash my sister’s professional reputation before she barely even has one. So unless you have a better idea, I intend to play the pity card, because it can’t hurt and it might help.”

  With a satisfied huff, she crossed her arms and stared him down.

  Cal pinned her with a direct look. “I didn’t say it’s a bad plan. In fact, I think you’re onto something.”

  She squinted suspiciously. “You do?”

  “Yes. But I think it won’t work if you run to the press with a sob story about how the De Lucas are victimizing you. It’ll just make you look whiny and petty.”

  “I don’t intend to whine. I intend to give them cold, hard facts. Present my case objectively.”

  “Because so far the press has shown a real fondness for objective reporting?”

  Damn it, he was right. She bit her lip, unwilling to back down so easily. Besides, it was her only idea. “You said it wasn’t a bad idea.”

  “It isn’t. I just don’t think you should be the one to implement it. People don’t respond to self-pity. But you’re right about their responding to the underdog. So what do you think about having Rick pick this up as a heart-wringing story about the little guy getting trampled by the evil De Lucas? He’s an objective source—well, as far as anyone knows, anyway. And once he starts the story I think he might be willing to urge others to play it up.”

  She stared for a few seconds, surprised. Then grinned. “I like it! That could work! Very insightful,” she admitted. “For a cop.” Couldn’t let him get too cocky.

  “And notice how I asked what you thought about it instead of saying ‘This is what we’re going to do’? It’s called teamwork, Larkin.”

  The admonition didn’t ruin her happiness. “True, I’m not used to consulting anyone. But I graciously admit that your idea is better than mine. I’ll call Rick right now, then I’ll pick up Amber.”

  “Okay. I’ll get in touch when I get back this evening.” Without warning, he pulled her close and kissed her until her head spun. “Maggie,” he murmured next to her ear, wrecking even more havoc with her equilibrium. “I have other good ideas. And I’m very big on teamwork.”

  She was still staring as he walked out the door.

  A dozen possible responses leapt to her mind, smart-ass comments about showing him some real teamwork, or confident declarations that she’d be the judge of whether his ideas were good. Or the safe response—I thought we weren’t going to do this. Or the one she yearned to say—Can that trip to Denver wait another hour?

  But he was already gone, so he’d have to just wonder how she felt about it. She wasn’t sure herself, but she was leaning toward exploring that teamwork idea, and it made her nervous.

  Men never made Maggie nervous. The fact that Cal Drummond did shook her clear down to her toes.

  She couldn’t think about him, not if she was going to get anything done today. She started by calling Rick about the article, getting the expected enthusiastic response. Feeling herself again, she drove to the Lost Canyon Lodge to pick Amber up on her way to Fortune’s Folly.

  Amber didn’t waste time dithering over what to say. As soon as she settled in the car, she asked, “Are you sleeping with my brother?”

  Maggie ignored the sudden flutter of nerves and shot her a get-real look. “Do you really expect me to answer that?”

  Amber smirked as she lowered the visor mirror and started applying makeup. “None of my business, right? That’s what Cal said. I think that means yes.”

  “Think what you want. Just don’t talk about it to those people in the cars following us. We’re going to pretend you’re my part-time employee, but if they somehow corner you when you’re not in the store, your answer to any question they ask you will be, ‘No comment.’ Don’t volunteer anything, ever.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I already heard it from Cal. And I’m not stupid, you know. Hollywood’s crawling with paparazzi. I see them all the time, and I know how they work.”

  Maggie didn’t point out that seeing them was hardly the same as being their quarry. Amber had the confidence that went with being sixteen years old and knowing all the answers. Hopefully, she had some street smarts to go with it.

  At least she was interested enough in retail sales to be useful. Maggie put her to work inventorying the jewelry while she dealt with her insurance agent, various repair people, and more questions from the police. The morning went by so fast she didn’t even notice it was past noon until Rick Grady banged on the locked front door, holding up a large take-out bag from the Silver Nugget across the street.

  She let him in, inhaling the aroma of the Nugget’s specialty burgers and fries. Her stomach growled in anticipation as she peeked in the bag. “That’s so thoughtful, Rick! But you don’t have to buy us lunch. I’ll pay you back.”

  “Pay Cal, he’s the one who called in the order.” He turned full circle, taking in the destruction. “Damn, that truck wiped out the whole front of the store. What’d he do, back up and ram it again and again?”

  “He had a snow blade on the front.” Turning, she called out, “Amber! We have lunch!”

  Rick backed up, shoving his glasses up his nose as he eyed the boarded front window and wrecked shelves like an artist contemplating his model. “You mind if I take some pictures? They’d really help sell that article you and Cal want me to write. Which is a brilliant idea, by the way. I’ll have people so sympathetic toward you . . .” He broke off as Amber sauntered out of the back room. “Hello.”

  She gave him a glance. “Hi.” Her gaze settled on the bag in Maggie’s hand. “What do we have? I’m starved.”

  She handed it over. “Amber, this is Rick Grady. He’s a reporter who’s helping us go after Rafe.”

  “Cal told me.” Apparently Cal had filled her in on everything, and nothing could compete with food. She pulled out two Styrofoam containers and two large drinks, setting them on the glass top of the surviving display case. Five seconds later she closed her eyes blissfully over a large mouthful of the Miner’s Special Deluxe Bacon Cheeseburger.

  The heck with the table in the back room. Maggie unwrapped her burger and took a bite, standing across from Amber. Rick leaned on one end of the case, watching Amber eat. “I heard about your sister, Amber. I’m sorry.”

  Amber’s eyes flickered and she stopped chewing for a second, darting a glance at Rick. “Thanks.” Maggie winced in sympathy; the stiff response obviously hid a world of pain.

  “What was Julie like? I’ll bet she was pretty, lik
e you.”

  Maggie gave him a cautionary frown, but he wasn’t looking at her. Amber answered softly, “Julie was prettier than me.”

  “Did she have any special talents? Like singing, or drawing . . .”

  Maggie lowered her hamburger and opened her mouth to drop a strong hint to change the subject, but before she could say anything, Amber smiled at Rick. “Julie was real good with hair. That’s an art, you know. She had her beautician’s license and was going to get a job at Universal Studios.”

  “No kidding? Good for her!”

  Amber nodded. “She had a contact there. You have to, if you want to get in anywhere.” Munching on fries, she began telling Rick about Julie’s career plans, her personality, and the guy she’d dated who later costarred in a big action film and now dated only “name” actresses. She was animated and obviously happy remembering her sister. Maggie mentally kicked herself for not encouraging her to talk about Julie earlier. Cal still beat himself up with guilt when Julie’s name came up, but Amber had been close to her sister. She needed to keep the memory alive. She told Rick anything he asked about, and more.

  Rick was another surprise. He hadn’t seemed the sensitive type, but Maggie had to admit that talking about Julie was excellent therapy for Amber. She laughed as she related an incident to Rick, and even offered him some fries. Rick helped himself, flashing a perfect smile in thanks, looking downright charming.

  Maggie narrowed her eyes. Wait a minute—how old was Rick anyway? She guessed about forty, which was too old to be bonding with a sixteen-year-old girl, especially one whose tough façade barely covered the recent loss of her sister and a mother who regularly threw her aside in favor of her boyfriend du jour. True, he didn’t sneak glances at Amber’s generous breasts or ask uncomfortable, personal questions, but there was no doubt he’d established a trust between them. It could be harmless, but . . .

  Cal would want her to be protective. Nervously Maggie crinkled used napkins and prepared to cut Rick short as soon as she could interrupt Amber.