Who's Been Sleeping in My Bed?

by Shawna Delacorte

  A sigh of resignation escaped her throat. “Or maybe he was some sort of security guard and not a law enforcement officer at all.”

  Reece grabbed another log and put it on the fire. “That’s very true. We can’t go jumping to conclusions.” As much as he wanted to tie together her problem with his, he didn’t have anything concrete—only his strong suspicions.

  He went to the window, pulled the drape aside and stared out into the darkness. “The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up. It looks like it might end up raining all night.” And of even more concern to him was what to do about her being in his cabin. Eventually it would be time to go to bed. Should he offer to drive her home? Drive her to a motel?

  Suggest that she spend the night in his cabin?

  He was never going to keep temptation at arm’s length with her sleeping under the same roof with him. A cozy fire, the sound of the rain—a scene ripe for seduction. He sucked in a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then slowly exhaled. What had he gotten himself into? The very notion that her stalking and abduction would have any connection to him being set up and framed for a crime was totally preposterous. He was trying to make two pieces fit together that didn’t even belong to the same puzzle.

  Reece had been offered parole after only a few months in prison, but had refused. He had no intention of giving them the opportunity of sending him back to prison with time added on to his sentence by claiming some trumped-up violation of his parole. He did the full term of his sentence and walked out the gates without further obligation to the legal system—no reporting to a parole officer, needing to provide them with his address or having to prove that he had a job.

  It had been three months. He had been hiding in his cabin with nothing to do to occupy his time other than read, watch television, surf the Internet and dwell on the past and what had happened to him. Maybe it was time to put that part of his life to rest. To quit thinking about it. To stop fixating on the people who had been responsible.

  But that was easier said than done.

  He stared at Brandi. She seemed to be lost in thought. Perhaps fate had delivered her into his hands. Even though he no longer had his private investigator’s license, he could still put his expertise to use by helping her get to the bottom of the mystery. It would give him a place to focus his energy and help pull him out of his self-pity.

  He needed to come up with a plan of action. But first, he had to figure out what they were going to do about sleeping arrangements for that night. He returned to the sofa and sat down next to her.

  “Brandi…” He took her hand in his. Once again the physical contact filled him with a warmth that had been missing from his life for far too long. He forced his thoughts to the immediate problem. “We have to figure out what to do about tonight…about sleeping arrangements…about where—”

  He felt her muscles tense and her body stiffen.

  Chapter Three

  Anxiety filled Brandi’s voice, and a hint of panic crept into her words. “I can’t go home. Whoever it is knows where I live. He might be watching my house at this very minute.”

  Reece tried to alleviate her sudden surge of panic. “That’s what I thought, too. So, we’re left with two options. I can drive you to a motel or…uh…” A rush of discomfort told him how awkward he found the situation. “You can spend the night here.”

  He saw the alarm flash through her eyes and across her face. He rushed his words, afraid she had misinterpreted what he’d said. “This sofa folds out into a bed. I can sleep here and you can have the bedroom.”

  Brandi stared at him for a moment. She knew she couldn’t go home but hadn’t really solidified any thoughts about exactly what to do or where to go. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions again, assume the worst, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea either. “I don’t want to impose on you like that. I’ve already abused your hospitality.”

  With his free hand he gestured toward her dirty clothes. “You’d probably like something clean to put on and a hot shower, too.”

  A shy smile slowly formed on her lips. “Yes, that would be nice. But I don’t know where I’m going to get any clean clothes tonight.”

  His words were tentative, escaping into the open before he was sure he wanted to say them. “I could go to your house and bring back what you need.”

  A quick look of concern flitted across her face. “But if someone is watching my house, they’d see you go inside. You’d be in danger.”

  He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don’t you worry about that. I can spot surveillance a mile away, especially if the person watching your house thinks they are dealing with someone who is inexperienced in the method of a stakeout. I know how to get in and out of places without being spotted. So—” he flashed a confident smile “—draw a floor plan of your house, give me your keys and a list of what you want and tell me where to find it. I should be back in a little over two hours. It’s normally a one-hour drive to Rocky Shores from here. I should be in and out of your house in less than ten minutes and will come straight back. Of course, it might take a little longer because of the rain on the mountain roads.”

  “Why can’t I go with you? I certainly know where everything is. Wouldn’t it be better if I went along?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If someone is watching your house, I don’t want to take a chance on whoever it is seeing you. If they spot you, it could be a dangerous situation. I can take care of myself, but I’d rather not have to take care of both of us. It will be quicker for me to go alone.”

  “Well…I guess that makes sense.” Giving the key to her house to a virtual stranger? It was a decision that left her uneasy, but what did she have to lose at this point? If he truly posed a threat to her, he could have done any number of unpleasant things to her by now.

  After all, no one knew where to find her. She was trapped in his cabin—even to the point where he had hauled her back inside when she had tried to run. He had her pinned to the floor and under his complete control.

  Yet he had been a man of his word. He had told her he wouldn’t hurt her, and he hadn’t.

  Then another thought occurred to her. Having him gone for a while would give her an opportunity to search the cabin and see if she could find anything other than the very sketchy information he had given her—reluctantly given her. Was she merely rationalizing this no-win situation, or was this strategy viable? She wasn’t sure.

  He may have soothed her shattered nerves a bit, but she was still acutely aware of the very real danger that had chased her to his cabin in the first place and continued to pursue her. She steeled her determination. She needed to take advantage of every opportunity that came her way, and this was no exception.

  “Do you have some paper and a pencil so I can draw that floor plan and make you a list?”

  He grabbed a notebook and pen from the top of the desk and handed them to her. She sketched the layout of her house, listed a few basic things for him to bring her and where to find them. She tore out the page and handed it to him along with her keys.

  “Here, this should do it.”

  He took the paper from her, started to leave, then paused. He turned to face her, his voice soft and conveying his genuine concern. “Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone, no matter who they say they are. I’ll use my key to get in when I return.”

  Her words were filled with emotion. “Please…be careful.”

  He extended a confident smile, then the smile faded. It was as if he didn’t have any conscious control over his own actions. He brushed his fingertips across her cheek, cupped her chin in his hand and leaned his face into hers. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. His words held the same emotion as hers had. “Don’t worry. I’m always careful.” He allowed his hand to linger for a moment before breaking the enticing physical contact.

  Brandi watched as he pulled on a rain jacket and stepped out onto the front porch. He brought the hood over his head, then made a dash for
his car. She shut and locked the front door and listened as he started the engine and drove away.

  She suddenly felt very much alone. It had only been a few hours since Reece had found her in his cabin. During that time, she had been fearful of the danger he represented, petrified when he’d chased her out into the storm and forcibly brought her back to the cabin, then terrified out of her wits when he’d tackled her and pinned her to the floor. But he had let her up as he’d promised and had done his best to make her comfortable. She had to admit that he had managed to ease her fears and worries and even instill a modicum of confidence. He seemed a man of his word.

  She touched her fingers to her lips. The heat of the brief kiss continued to linger there. She didn’t know what to think. Was she being played for a fool? Was this all part of some master plan he had devised? She shook her head. If he was somehow involved, why would he have gone off and left her alone to escape? True, he had her house keys, but not having a key certainly wouldn’t stop someone from entering her house.

  She attempted to dismiss the conflicting thoughts and her emotional upheaval by turning her attention to other matters.

  The desk against the far wall—there would probably be something in the desk that would tell her more about him. If nothing else, at least something that could confirm his name.

  She swallowed down the nervousness churning in the pit of her stomach as she slowly crossed the room to the desk. She reached out a trembling hand, then paused. The same feeling of guilt washed through her as it had when she’d crawled in his kitchen window. What she was doing was wrong. But she also told herself that the present circumstances were anything but normal.

  Her confusion ran rampant, leaving her emotions in turmoil. He had been right. She wanted to believe him. To believe that he was an honorable man. To believe that he could and would help her.

  To believe that she could trust him.

  She pulled open the drawer and withdrew several file folders, placing them on top of the desk. Then she opened a large bottom drawer where she found a laptop computer resting on top of several large envelopes.

  REECE DROVE DOWN Brandi’s street, taking careful note of every parked car. He didn’t drive so slowly that he would look suspicious to the neighbors, but slowly enough that he didn’t miss anything. Her sketch indicated a gate from the back alley to her yard and a side door from the yard to the garage. He could enter the house that way without anyone in front seeing him. But first, he wanted to make sure no one was watching from the street.

  For an hour he had turned things over in his mind as he drove from his cabin to her house. Had he just been pulled into another bad situation by a beautiful woman who appeared vulnerable and seemed in need of his help? Was he being set up again, only this time with a longer prison sentence waiting on the horizon? But could he afford to pass up an opportunity to even things with Frank James, no matter what the risk? He wasn’t at all sure he was doing the right thing.

  Had he ended up frightening Brandi more than instilling a sense of confidence? He touched his fingers to the scratches on the side of his face. Yes, indeed—she had fought to protect herself. Unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of her attack. After that, had he managed to assuage her fears?

  Suddenly, a flicker of light caught his attention, snapping his mind away from his thoughts and back to the task at hand. The breath froze in his lungs. His senses went on full alert. A man was sitting in a car parked across the street from Brandi’s house, his cigarette lighter supplying just enough illumination to see the man’s face. There was no doubt in his mind—Detective Sergeant Frank James, recently promoted to the rank of lieutenant.

  Years of anger and resentment twisted in his gut, turning his insides into a seething cauldron. It took all his conscious control to continue driving in a straight line at the same speed and not do anything to arouse suspicion. When he arrived at the corner he made a left turn so that he could come back through the alley behind Brandi’s house. As soon as he was out of the lieutenant’s line of sight, he pulled over to the curb and stopped.

  His worst nightmare and his foremost obsession all rolled up into one. Frank James—the crooked cop who had lied on the witness stand. The man responsible for sending him to prison. Frank James and his cohort, an enticing and devious little sexpot named Cindy Thatcher. Cindy had played him for a fool from day one, and he had been so dazzled that he hadn’t seen it coming.

  Reece had a turbulent ten-year history with Frank. It had started when Frank had arrested a murder suspect, insisting that the man was guilty beyond any doubt—almost as if it had been a personal matter for him. The suspect’s attorney had hired Reece to find evidence to verify his client’s alibi. Reece had been able to do it, and the man had been acquitted. Reece later found out that the man’s arrest had, indeed, been a personal matter on the part of Frank James.

  After that, it had seemed that every time Reece had turned around, a case he was involved with ended up having something to do with Frank James. Twice Frank had attempted to get his private investigator’s license revoked on the flimsiest of excuses, and twice he had failed.

  What in the world could Brandi be involved in that had put a piece of vindictive scum like Frank James on her trail?

  He clenched his jaw in determination and tried to tamp down his bitter resentment. If she had somehow crossed this rogue cop, then it was as much his fight as it was hers. She was ill-equipped to handle a confrontation with Frank on her own. If nothing else, that settled the matter in his mind. Frank James was his prey—and nothing would stand in his way in bringing Frank down.

  True, Brandi’s sketchy description of her abductor could fit any number of men, but Frank James was definitely one of them. A little flicker of satisfaction told him things were about to break wide open, that inner voice and instinct he had learned to trust over the years, especially during his time in prison. If only he had trusted that voice earlier, back when it had tried to tell him Cindy Thatcher was bad news.

  Suddenly the world had come alive with a promise of a future. He had found a purpose, a way to focus his energy and revitalize his existence. And that purpose was to expose Frank James and bring down his network.

  Reece drove down the alley behind Brandi’s house with his headlights turned off. He stopped two houses from her back fence, turned off the engine and sat for a few minutes going over everything in his mind. The reason he had given Brandi for her staying behind had been the truth—as far as it went. But he had another reason for not wanting her to go with him. He wanted to do more than just pick up the things on her list. He also wanted to look around inside her house, to get a better feel for who she was and see if he could find anything that might give him a clue to what was happening and why. But with Frank James sitting out in front, he needed to be careful.

  Very careful.

  Frank James epitomized obnoxious, unethical, dishonest and arrogant. He represented a slap in the face to all the law enforcement officers who worked hard to keep the public safe while placing their own lives in daily jeopardy. But there was one thing Frank James was not—he was not a fool.

  Reece didn’t want to enter Brandi’s house while Frank was still parked in front. He made his way across her backyard and stationed himself in the bushes where he could see Frank’s car.

  And then he waited.

  Stakeouts weren’t new to him, but it had been a long time since he had experienced the excitement of being on a case. The adrenaline surge told him he was back where he belonged. Even the steady rainfall didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. And he had the added benefit of knowing it was more than just being on a case again. His one burning obsession, clearing his name while bringing down the man responsible for putting him in prison, had just taken on a new life. It had moved into the realm of reality.

  Less than half an hour later Frank started his car and pulled away from the curb. Reece waited another fifteen minutes to make sure Frank wasn’t circling the neighborhood in an effort to m
ake it appear that he had gone.

  He pulled Brandi’s keys from his pocket and entered the garage from the side door. Once safely out of sight, he shrugged out of his rain jacket and shook off the water. He took off his boots and left them in the garage so he wouldn’t track mud inside her house. He pulled the flashlight from his pocket.

  Using her sketch, he slowly made his way through the interior, room by room. Everything in the living room, dining room and kitchen seemed to be normal, or at least what he assumed to be normal. Everything was neat, clean and orderly. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He looked around her bedroom and bathroom. Things there seemed to be in place, too. He collected the items she had on her list, placing them in a small suitcase from her closet.

  Then he checked her office, a storage room, her darkroom and what would have been another bedroom that she was using as a studio. In sharp contrast to the rest of her house, it seemed obvious that someone had searched these rooms. While her picture files had not been vandalized, someone had definitely been looking for something specific. He had no way of knowing what they had been searching for or if anything was missing.

  What could someone have been looking for? Or more accurately, what could Frank James be looking for? Why would pictures of weddings and portrait sittings be of interest to him? What could they have to do with the nightmare that had invaded her life? Even the photographs for the book she said she was working on, scenic pictures from around the state, didn’t seem to be anything that would pose a threat to anyone.

  If Brandi had purposely hidden something in her picture files, then she would know what someone had been after and why she had become a target. But he believed her story. He believed she was very frightened and didn’t know why any of this was happening to her.

  Two televisions, a VCR and a DVD player, a computer, camera equipment and darkroom equipment—items easily turned into cash—had not been disturbed. He returned to her bedroom and checked the jewelry box. Unless there was a particular piece of jewelry missing, everything appeared to be undisturbed.