Blazing Summer (Darling Investigations Book 2)

by Denise Grover Swank

  His grin spread. “But I don’t mean it with them, sugar.”

  “So you’re admitting that you’re a liar?” I asked in a playful tone.

  He laughed. “When you put it like that . . .” Then he took a long pull of his drink.

  I took a sip and walked the perimeter of the room, openly taking in the artwork and knickknacks. “No other friends tonight?”

  “You heard about my party?”

  I picked up a ceramic bird from a bookshelf and pretended to study it. “How could I not? I was a little hurt you didn’t invite me.”

  “No offense, Summer,” he said sarcastically, “but your TV show busted Cale Malone for distributing drugs. Not exactly the guest a host with certain . . . refreshments wants at his party.”

  “Touché.” I set the bird down and turned to face him. “Of course, we can have other fun.” I paused. “I know I told you Sweet Briar bores me, and it does, but I’m also sick and tired of the noise. Of everyone always wanting something. Aren’t you?”

  A strange look crossed his face. “Yeah.”

  I sat down on a chair. “That’s part of the reason I came back. Back in Hollywood, the people I met always had an agenda.” I drummed my fingertips on the chair arm. “They still do here, but they don’t want quite as much.”

  He sat down on the ottoman in front of me, all traces of his previous ass-hattery gone. “Yeah. I get that. I’m sure you face it more, but my dad runs the second-largest lumber company in the country. When people realize he’s worth millions, I’m never sure if they want to be my friend for me or his money.”

  “Is that why you came back?” I asked, cocking my head to study him.

  “Yeah. Among other things.” Then anguish filled his eyes, and he got up and moved to the windows.

  He was giving me major mixed signals, and I wasn’t sure I was playing this right. Did Trent Dunbar actually have some depth? I decided to try a more down-to-earth approach. “I know you and Dixie used to have a thing. I understand if you don’t want to start something with me.”

  Keeping his gaze on the pool, he took a sip of his beer and didn’t answer, but he looked heartbroken. Had Dixie broken up with him? She hadn’t shared any details, but then, she really hadn’t told me much about him.

  I got up and moved closer. “Sometimes first loves aren’t meant to work out. Even if you give them some time apart. The time and distance only shines a spotlight on how different you are. Sometimes you need to grow up to see it.”

  He turned to me. “Dixie told you?”

  Shit. How did I answer? I decided to tell the truth. Mostly. “No. I was talking about me and Luke. There’s still major chemistry there, but he’s lived this nice, quiet life, and I’ve lived bigger, you know? He can’t relate to that.” I shrugged. “And now I’m back, and we’re a decade older and a lot more grown up, and I’m just not sure it’s meant to be anymore.”

  His eyes widened before settling back into melancholy. “Yeah . . . I get that.”

  “I know you stuck with Dixie when everyone else abandoned her . . . including me. Thank you for that. She’s very loyal to you because of it.”

  A mocking grin twisted his lips. “And that’s the problem. Dixie is very loyal. To a fault.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He downed his beer and walked over to the wet bar. “Need a refill?” I shook my head and watched as he refilled his glass and downed a third of it. “You need to keep up, Summer. I’ve already gotten a head start.”

  “I like to pace myself.”

  “Can’t let me get shit-faced on my own. Then I’ll look like a douche.”

  Ordinarily, I would have wholeheartedly agreed with him—even if I kept it to myself—but right now, I found myself feeling sorry for him. “What happened with Dixie, Trent?”

  Tears filled his eyes, and he shook his head and chuckled. “I may be drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to go there.” The way he ended his sentence had an ominous tone.

  Was he talking about their relationship or something he’d done to her? He was giving off a strange vibe, and honestly, I thought it could go either way. I needed him to keep talking.

  He drained another third of his beer, then topped it off again. “Let’s go sit in the hot tub.”

  I laughed, hoping my nerves didn’t show. “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  He winked, and asshole Trent was back. “Why would you need a suit?” Then he opened the back door and left it wide-open as he unfastened the button of his jeans and walked toward the Jacuzzi.

  My phone rang, and I wasn’t surprised to see it was Bill. I answered, and the first thing he said was, “Do not get in that hot tub with him.”

  “Well, hello to you too.”

  “I’m serious, Summer.”

  “Will the camera still work if I get in but keep it out of the water?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not the point.”

  I hung up and walked out to the patio.

  Trent was shucking his jeans, revealing a skin-tight pair of BVD navy-blue boxer briefs, and he was angling his body so that I had a good view of his bulge. I was just thankful he wasn’t going commando. “Come on, Summer, live a little.”

  “Maybe I’ve lived too much, and that’s why I’m back here in Sweet Briar.” Only that was his story, not mine. I hadn’t lived much at all back in Hollywood. It was like I’d been hanging out, waiting for my life to start . . . or restart. Had I secretly hoped Luke and I would find our way back to each other? I’d never had another relationship that lived up to what the two of us had shared, but we’d been kids. Head over heels in love and too young to fully know ourselves. Now I worried I’d lost my chance with him forever.

  Trent held out his glass and shook his head. “Nope. I see the look on your face. No thinking about the assholes who have hurt us. Only onward and upward.”

  I moved my glass a few inches from his. “I’ve spilled my stupid guts about what happened with Luke. Why are you leavin’ Dixie behind?”

  “Because that’s what she wants, okay?” he blurted out. “I’ve loved Dixie since we were kids, but after the fire, Daddy said I couldn’t be with her or he’d disinherit me. So away I went”—he scissored his index and middle finger to mimic walking—“because stayin’ here . . .” His voice trailed off, then he slammed his glass into mine, and a satisfied grin lit up his face. “That’s all you get until I see more skin.”

  He walked down the steps into the sunken tub, holding his glass out of the water. “Come on, Summer Butler,” he coaxed as he sat down. “You know you want to.”

  “It’s too damn hot to get in a hot tub,” I said as I kicked off my sandals, “but I’ll sit on the edge.”

  “Suit yourself.” A sleazy grin lifted his lips. “Or, in our case, no suit yourself.”

  I shook my head as I sat on the edge, tucking my legs to the side. “You’re drunk.”

  “And you’re not. You need to catch up.”

  I took a sip of my beer, trying to figure out how to naturally move the conversation to Dixie and the party.

  “You have gorgeous legs,” he said, stretching his arm along the edge of the pool as his gaze drifted to my legs. “Why’re you coverin’ them up?”

  “Because I’m not sitting cross-legged in a dress, and it’s too hot to soak my legs in the tub.”

  He crossed the distance between us faster than I’d expect a drunk guy to move, but then I suspected Trent Dunbar spent most of his life drunk. He grabbed my legs and swung them around so they were in front of me, then pulled my feet and calves into the water. I winced from the heat, but a satisfied gleam filled his eyes. “That’s better.”

  “That’s called manhandling, Trent, and maybe you’ve been with women who like that kind of Neanderthal behavior, but I’m not one of them.”

  He stayed sunk down in the water, holding his beer with one hand while the other caressed my right calf. “For a woman who claims she’s interested in other things, you don’t seem very interested.�
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  “Ever heard of foreplay?” I asked before I could stop myself. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

  His eyes hooded as his hand slid up to the edge of my dress.

  “I didn’t mean that literally, Trent,” I said, trying to stay calm. I was worried that he’d be too distracted by his efforts to sleep with me to answer my questions. “I want to talk.”

  “Talk?” The word came out in a whine.

  “You know, something grown-ups do. Something that can lead to sex.”

  “You have an obsession with grown-ups,” he said, his hand sliding several inches under my dress. “Grown-ups can also have sex without all the talking.”

  His hand slid farther up my leg, and I was a half second from kicking him in the groin when my phone began to ring.

  He stilled and gave me an exasperated look.

  I knew it was Bill—the timing was a dead giveaway. “I’m not going to answer it, but I’m also not going to have sex with you five minutes after showing up at your front door. Show a little more class, Trent.”

  He dropped his hands and slunk back to the other side of the tub. “So you want to talk . . .”

  I kept my feet in the water. “Yeah, you know, have a conversation.”

  A cocky grin spread across his face. “All the other girls just drop their panties, sweetheart.”

  “All the other girls except Dixie,” I said, taking a chance. “She’s different.”

  His upper lip curled. “Yeah, she’s different, but she’s not available. I told you I left to stay away from her, but my self-righteous dad made me come back home. Doesn’t matter, though, because she’s still not an option. Let it go.”

  “He made you come back because you got in trouble one time too many,” I said, then added off the top of my head, “because you were trying to forget her.”

  He pushed out a frustrated breath. “What’s your obsession with your cousin?”

  “Look,” I said, affecting a high-and-mighty tone, “I’m Summer Butler. I’m not gonna be sloppy seconds to anyone, let alone my cousin.”

  He stared at me in disbelief, then started to laugh.

  “And why is that so funny?”

  “You. You called me, Summer. What are you doin’ here?”

  I was screwing this up big-time, but I wasn’t about to give up. I couldn’t afford to walk out of here with nothing. He was going to talk whether he liked it or not. “Do you love Dixie?”

  “For the love of God, I just—”

  “Stop,” I said softly. “Just answer the damn question. Do you love her?”

  He didn’t verbally acknowledge it, but the look in his eyes was enough.

  “Dixie’s in trouble. Do you know anything about that?”

  He froze. “What kind of trouble?”

  “How did she get home last night?”

  Fear filled his eyes. “I never saw her leave. I figured she woke up and left with someone else. She was pissed and wanted to go home earlier, but I knew if she had enough time to cool off, she’d change her mind.”

  “Change her mind about what?”

  “About never seeing me again.” He ran a hand over his head. “Who took her home?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  “No! I just told you I didn’t!”

  “Did you drug her?” I asked. “To make sure she stayed until she cooled down and changed her mind?”

  “What?” He stood, looking outraged. “Dixie hates drugs after what happened. She never even drinks. If I did something like that, I’d never have any chance of getting her back!”

  “Why are you wasting her time? If your daddy won’t let you have a relationship with her, then why won’t you just let her go?”

  “Because I planned to leave!” he shouted, moving closer to me. “And I asked her to go with me, but she said no.”

  “What?” I took a breath. “I had no idea . . . Dixie never told me.”

  “Yeah, I guessed that about five seconds after you called me,” he said in disgust.

  “What about April Jean?” I asked.

  “What about her?”

  “You must not love Dixie very much if you got drunk off your ass and went home with her two nights ago.”

  “I don’t even remember goin’ home with her,” he said, then added, “And a man has needs.”

  To think I’d started feeling sorry for the asshole. “Well, there you go . . . ,” I said in a flippant tone.

  Derision filled his eyes. “You think Luke Montgomery hasn’t had his fair share of women?”

  “We broke up years ago, so of course he’s slept with other women, just like I’ve slept with other men. And Dixie had relationships while you were gone, but she hasn’t been with anyone since she broke up with Ryker months ago. You tried to sleep with April Jean days ago, Trent.”

  His jaw clenched. “Tried to sleep with her? What did she tell you?” When I didn’t answer, he slapped his hand on top of the water. “Did she tell you I couldn’t get it up?”

  I gave him a haughty look. “Maybe she did.”

  “What the fuck?” He threw his glass against the concrete, and pieces of shattered glass scattered across the pool deck and into the pool. “How many people did she tell?”

  “Looks like she pissed you off.”

  “You’re damn straight she did! This isn’t the first time she’s pulled that shit. It’s not even the third.”

  “That’s why you killed her, isn’t it?”

  His face fell. “What?”

  Shit. I shouldn’t have told him that. Luke was going to kill me.

  His complexion paled, and tears filled his eyes. “April Jean’s dead?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stumbled backward and fell onto one of the hot-tub benches on his butt. “How?”

  I was surprised by how hard he was taking this. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you like that.”

  He shot me a glare. “You mean by accusing me of murder?”

  I grimaced.

  “How’d she die?”

  “I can’t tell you that. You’re not supposed to even know, but knowing Maybelline, it’ll be public knowledge tomorrow.”

  “I can’t believe it . . .”

  “Trent, there’s more.”

  Wide eyes lifted to mine.

  “Dixie’s missing. We can’t find her anywhere.”

  If he’d looked shocked before, he now looked like he was close to passing out. “Oh, God. Someone kidnapped her from my house.”

  “No. She came home, although she called me from a remote place at three in the morning. Here’s what I know: you refused to take her home and gave her a Coke. Soon after, she went to the bathroom for about ten minutes, then came back and got into a fight with April Jean. She fell asleep in a chair, and when some people left at midnight, she was still there. When was the last time you saw her?”

  He squinted at me, and his mouth dropped open. “Shit. You’re not here to sleep with me. You’re here finding out what I know about Dixie!”

  So much for my undercover skills. “We weren’t sure about your involvement.”

  Disgust washed over his face. “And when you say we, you mean you and Luke . . . and Teddy.”

  The answer was so obvious, I didn’t respond.

  “Teddy hates me, and I told Dixie he would never forgive me for what happened. Not in a million years.”

  “Can you blame him?” I asked, not unkindly. “You were the one who gave her the drugs that got her high enough to burn down the barn. You and those drugs destroyed his whole world.”

  Trent climbed out of the hot tub, water dripping onto the concrete.

  “But it wasn’t you, was it?” I asked. “It was your brother, Troy.”

  He turned around to face me, his jaw dropping.

  “Troy started that fire, didn’t he?”

  Shock filled his eyes. But there was acknowledgment too.

  “He did it to get back at Dixie after she kept him from raping that girl.” When he di
dn’t contradict me, I asked, “Did you help him start the fire?”

  “What?” He took a step back, bumping into a pool deck chair. “No!”

  I stood and took a step toward him. “Did you know he had something planned?”

  No response.

  “You knew your brother was going to hurt Dixie, and you just let him?” I asked in disgust.

  “No!” His eyes squinted shut, and he shook his head. “Yes. I mean I knew he was gonna retaliate, but I had no idea when or how.”

  “Bullshit.”

  His eyes flew open. “He was a mean son of a bitch, Summer. Once he decided to hurt her, there was no stopping him.”

  “Teddy would have beat the ever-lovin’ crap out of him.” I took a breath. “But Dunbars stick together, don’t they? Your daddy got you both out of plenty of trouble, didn’t he?”

  Anguish covered his face.

  I needed to get him to admit that Troy had started the fire. “When did you figure out what Troy was doing?”

  “After I got to Dixie’s. I was waiting in the surveyor’s house, but she was stuck in the barn cleaning up horse shit. Troy showed up and said he wanted to party with us. I might have believed him, except he didn’t have a girl with him.”

  No witnesses. “Did Dixie know he was there?”

  “No! Because he left . . . or I thought he did. But he left a bottle of vodka.”

  “Along with some Xanax.”

  He nodded.

  “Dixie blacked out, but you never did, did you?”

  “I tried to stop him! He started goofing around with matches.”

  “And gasoline,” I added.

  Trent winced. “He never meant to kill anyone. He said he only wanted to teach Dixie a lesson.”

  “And you let her believe she killed her parents.” Because there was no way in hell he’d turn in his brother.

  Tears filled his eyes.

  “Why did she smell like gasoline? Troy doused her with it, huh?”

  He looked down. “Yeah.”

  “He could have killed her, Trent!”

  “I was out of it. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “Dixie figured it out, didn’t she?”

  “Not for a while. And she never knew for certain, but at first she couldn’t figure out why I kept coming to see her while she was incarcerated.”