Shadows in the Curtain (Destination Billionaire Romance)

by Checketts, Cami

  He returned the smile with a beautiful one of his own. Her heart thumped. Anxious to bring the safety he represented into the house and shut the door on all the horrible things in the dark, she stepped back and said, “Come in.” The mixture of comfort and excitement she felt with him here helped calm her anxiousness, until the high-pitched wail of her alarm cut through the night.

  “Oh crap.” She ran to the wall to type in the code. The alarm silenced, but her cell phone rang immediately. “Sorry,” she mouthed to Josh as she reassured the security company that she’d just forgotten to disable the alarm.

  Josh shut the door behind him. Emmy hung up the phone and set it on the entry table. “Sorry,” she said again. “I don’t get many visitors.”

  “It’s okay. Do you like the alarm system?”

  “Not really, but after …” Judging from the look on his face, she didn’t need to finish.

  He exhaled slowly, clutching the flowers.

  It hit Emmy how trusting she was being. All the safety she’d felt moments earlier started to waver. “You, um, weren’t on my back patio in a raincoat and hat earlier?”

  Josh’s eyebrows arched, complete surprise written in his eyes. Relief swept over her. How she knew she could trust him now when she hadn’t before was a mystery, but she did, and that trust brought a sense of comfort she hadn’t had since before Grayson died.

  “No.” He stared at her. “Someone was?”

  “Yes, but he ran away when I turned on the lights. Sorry I asked, I don’t think you’d go creeping on back patios.”

  “No, I wouldn’t but …” He shook his head. “The day your husband was murdered, I saw a tall guy wearing a raincoat and hat watching your house.”

  Her mouth fell open, questions filling her mind.

  “How long ago did you see the guy on the patio?” he asked.

  “Right before you came.”

  “I’ll be back.” He pressed the flowers into her hands, turning toward the door. “Wait, do you have a flashlight?”

  “Sure.” Emmy rushed into her kitchen, found a flashlight and returned, handing it to him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Follow his footprints.” Josh sprinted off her front porch and around the side of the house.

  “Wait,” Emmy called, but he was already gone.

  Emmy closed the door, turned the deadbolt, and leaned against it. Her heart pounded. Would Josh find the guy? Could it possibly be the man who murdered Grayson? She would give anything for some closure and the chance to live a worry-free life again. She didn’t move as the possibilities of true freedom grew in her mind. But then the worry filtered in. What if it was the murderer and he hurt Josh? Should she go out there and try to help? Warn Josh to watch for knives?

  As she debated what to do, the door pounded against her back. Emmy leaped into the air. She peeked through the sidelight. Josh. She turned the deadbolt, swung the door open, and gestured him inside. “Did you find him?”

  He shook his head. “He was smart. I followed the footprints down to the water. I searched but couldn’t see a match leaving the water. I talked to Housley. He was already on his way because of your 911 call. He’s bringing a dog to sniff out the guy’s smell from your patio and see if he can pick up a scent.” He shrugged. “Will be tough, though, if he stayed in the water long.”

  Emmy sighed. “Thanks for trying. It was probably just some tourist trying to look in my windows.”

  Josh nodded. “Maybe, but we keep hoping for a break in your case.”

  Her case. Emmy shook her head, dispelling the awful memories. “Thank you for the flowers.”

  His blue eyes lit up. “I wanted to congratulate you. Kelton told me you took over the playhouse and started rehearsals for Beauty and the Beast.”

  Emmy inhaled the wonderful smell of the lilies, begonias, roses, and daisies clasped in her hand. “Thank you. I’m really excited about it.”

  “You’ll make the prettiest Belle ever.” His face colored.

  Emmy had never been so flattered. “It’s a fun role.”

  They stood there for half a second, awkward and staring at each other.

  “Would you like to come sit down?”

  “Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?”

  They both spoke at the same time, rushing out their sentences as if someone were going to slap a hand over their mouths.

  Emmy laughed. “I would love to go dinner.”

  Josh grinned. “I would love to come sit down.”

  She turned and walked through the entry into the open kitchen, dining, and living room area. He followed. She couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of her house. Was it as ridiculously big as it seemed to her right now? She’d thought a hundred times about selling it and getting away from the memories of Grayson’s death, but selling it meant losing the memories of their brief marriage.

  “Have a seat.” She gestured to the living room and hurriedly found a vase, filled it with water, and plunged the flowers in. His eyes followed her, and she had a hard time doing the simple task.

  “Your home is beautiful,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she found her gaze drawn to his as she walked across the bumpy hardwood floor to the plush living room rug. Panic fluttered in her chest. Where should she sit? He was on the sofa. She could sit next to him without getting too close. No, that would be pushing it. She opted for one of the overstuffed chairs. “Were you injured in the fire the other night?”

  Josh shook his head. “No, but Axel busted his leg and had to be treated for smoke inhalation.”

  “I’m sorry. That was so heroic of you to save him.” Great. She sounded like a Josh groupie.

  “Thanks.” Josh focused completely on her. She felt the pull that always happened when he really looked at her. She wanted to leave the chair and snuggle up to him on the sofa. Wrapping her hands around the chair cushion, she held on for stability.

  “Does the alarm system help you feel safe?” he asked.

  Emmy gulped, pulled back to reality. “As safe as I can with the murderer still out there somewhere.”

  “The notes have stopped.” It wasn’t a question; he obviously was in contact with the police department.

  She bobbed her head.

  “We’re going to find the guy, Emmy.” He reached across and patted her knee. It should have reassured her. Instead, she felt the jumble of trembling attraction like some silly teenager.

  “I hope so.” She sighed. “I thought maybe the police were right and the guy wasn’t from around here. It’s been a year and there haven’t been any notes or anything.” She paused. “Well, except for that guy tonight, and I saw some weird guy at the cemetery a few days ago.”

  He leaned closer. “Did he look the same?”

  She searched her memory but couldn’t see past the fear, and finally shrugged. “They were both tall.”

  Josh looked pensive for a minute. “He’s going to make a mistake, and we’re going to find him. You need the closure.”

  Emmy nodded. Closure sounded wonderful. “I definitely don’t want someone like that on the loose. It’s so terrifying that he might still be out there watching me, or be someone I see every day at the grocery store or the gym.” Her face filled with warmth. “I mean … Well, I didn’t mean.”

  Josh didn’t look away.

  Emmy had to tell him. “I know you didn’t kill him.”

  He exhaled and gave her a soft smile. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

  “I’m sorry I blamed you.”

  “No. Don’t apologize. It just makes me sick that you went through that and still have to worry.”

  His blue eyes were so warm. Emmy was glad she’d forgiven him. Now she was more than ready to change the subject. “You obviously didn’t stop going to the gym.” She pointed at the thick biceps and triceps poking out of his T-shirt. The sight of those brawny arms made her a bit weak. “Why did you change times?”

  “At first I did it so yo
u wouldn’t have to see me.”

  She winced. “Thank you. I feel bad, but I really hated you for a while.”

  “I noticed.” He splayed his hands. “But you don’t hate me now?”

  “Not even close.” She let out a giggle a ten-year-old would be proud of, and he rewarded her with a smile that showed his dimples. Oh my. She kept talking so she didn’t do something she might regret. “Why don’t you come to the gym early anymore?”

  “It’s crazy to wake up at five a.m. when I could go at six-thirty and still fit in a good workout and breakfast before my shift.”

  “I’m one of the crazies. I like the morning, plus during the school year my students come pretty early.”

  “I love that you’re still teaching.” He glanced at her state-of-the-art kitchen filled with granite counters, top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, and gorgeous cherry cabinets. Emmy hoped he wasn’t thinking about the fact that she had been a suspect for a while because of all the money Grayson left solely to her. The investigator had finally stopped pursuing that angle when there was no proof and witness after witness, most of them Grayson’s family, insisted Emmy would never do such a thing.

  “My students are amazing. I’d lose a part of me if I stopped teaching them.”

  “I hear all the time how amazing you are.”

  “Thanks.” She blushed from his compliment and the sincerity of his gaze.

  He stood. “I’d better go and let you get some rest.”

  Emmy stood with him, wishing he’d stay and wishing she really would fall asleep when he did go. After seeing that form on her porch tonight, she knew her eyes would be pried open till she crashed from sheer exhaustion. “Will you call me if the police find anything, or do I need to wait for one of them?”

  “I’ll convince Housley to let me call.”

  Emmy liked that promise. They walked to the entryway without saying anything. Josh opened the door and pivoted to face her. “Dinner, tomorrow?”

  Her face actually hurt, she grinned so big. Maybe tonight she could lie awake dreaming about Josh; to heck with the dang murderer. “Perfect. I don’t have rehearsal.”

  “I know, I checked.”

  “With who?”

  “Madison Parker.”

  “She’s a doll. One of my students.”

  “One of my neighbors.” He smiled, but shifted his weight a few times and clung to the doorframe as if asking for much more than dinner. “Is six okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  He gave her one more smile before striding out the door. Emmy watched as he walked out of her porch’s circle of light and then down the street. Did he live close enough that he didn’t have to drive, or was he going to find his police buddies and keep searching for prints? He’d never given her flashlight back.

  She closed the door, deadbolted it, and reset the alarm system. She might not be able to go to sleep, but at least tonight she’d have something pleasant to picture as she lay awake.

  q

  Kelton frowned at her from his perch next to the piano. “Are you messing with me or what?”

  Emmy glanced up at him. “Messing with you?”

  “You never make stinking mistakes. You play perfect. You sing perfect. And today you’re like a joke. Banging on the keys, playing too hard, too soft, hitting wrong notes, not even correcting me when I’m off. What is up?”

  “Sorry. Maybe we should just call it a day.” Emmy sighed, studying the white and black keys. She’d stayed up late waiting for Josh’s call after listening to the police and their dog outside her back windows. He’d told her they found nothing. She should’ve been disappointed. Instead she’d just been thrilled at the sound of his voice and the anticipation of going out with him.

  Kelton lowered his bulk next to her. Emmy slid to the side so she wouldn’t be squished. “You dragging again, girl?”

  “No, actually. I’m doing pretty good.”

  “Then why the drama?”

  Emmy held up her fingers; they were obviously shaking. “Nerves.”

  Kelton stared at her strangely. “Nerves? Around me? I’m just your chill neighbor. You told me yourself I was too young.” He broke into a wide grin. “Hold up. You saying there’s a chance?”

  Emmy quickly shook her head. “No.”

  “Slammed again.” His lower lip jutted out. “What are you nervous for, then?”

  She took a long breath and exhaled with the words, “I’ve got a date tonight.”

  Kelton jumped and banged his knee on the piano. “Ouch. Dang. Who?”

  “Josh Campbell,” she whispered into the keys.

  “Captain Campbell?” Kelton whistled, rubbing at his knee. “I hate to admit this, but if I can’t have you I think he’s pretty boss. He’d treat you right and take good care of you.”

  “Kelton.” Emmy shook her head. “I’m going out on a date with him, not proposing.”

  “I get ya, slow it down. I hear it from the girls all the time.”

  “Oh, I bet you do.” Emmy laughed, hard. “Wasn’t it you who told me, ‘I don’t look for girls, they come to me’?”

  “Ha! I did say that.” His mouth twisted in a smirk. “Well, they come, but the ones I really fall for are all like, ‘I’m too young to get serious. I need to finish college first.’” He stuck out his tongue. “Excuses, excuses.”

  “Those are the smart ones,” Emmy advised. “The ones worth waiting for. You aren’t, um, you know?”

  “Getting too friendly? Nah. My momma would drown me herself if I ever pushed that before marriage.”

  “You’re a good boy, Kelton.”

  “Thanks. Now I feel like a puppy you just patted on the head for not peeing on the carpet.” He rubbed his large hands together. “But you and Campbell? I like it. What are you wearing?”

  Emmy laughed. “Have I ever told you you’re one of my best friends?”

  He placed a hand on his heart. His dark skin crinkled as he grinned. “No, really?”

  “Serious.”

  “No, you’re really that lonely?”

  Emmy shoved him but he barely moved an inch. “Get your butt back up and start singing for me, boy.”

  “You do realize the racial slurs you just used? If I tell my momma …”

  Emmy paled. “You know I would never—”

  He roared with laughter. “I know. I just love to give you smack.”

  Emmy punched him on the shoulder.

  He leapt to his feet. “Okay, I’m singing, I’m singing, just play it right. And tonight, wear your blue dress, the one that shows off your shoulders with your hair up.” He pretended to flip his hair off his neck. “And tomorrow, I want dirt on that date.”

  14

  JOSH PICKED EMMY UP in the most amazing restored truck. She gushed over the red pickup, though she had no clue what year it might be or how much it was probably worth. The creamy leather seats were as soft as baby’s skin, and the dials and knobs a beautiful mahogany.

  After turning pink under her constant praise, Josh finally admitted that his father was a mechanic and had taught him to restore old vehicles when he was only fourteen. Now he did it as a side job.

  She sat across the table from him at the Driftwood Restaurant. The large windows gave a terrific view of the beach, but Emmy couldn’t see anything beyond Josh. She wondered if he was nervous or if it was just her. He smiled and asked her questions about acting and the theater, but she could’ve sworn his hand trembled when he picked up his glass. She also noticed the shy way he glanced at her—glances that set her heart thumping.

  The waitress delivered her salmon and his steak. Emmy decided she’d talked about herself enough. “Where are you from originally?” she asked.

  Josh swallowed a bite and started cutting his next before answering. “I grew up in Meridian, Idaho.”

  “Did you work there as a firefighter?”

  He nodded. “I volunteered through college at Boise State and then started full-time after I graduated.”

&n
bsp; “What did you graduate in? Is there a firefighter bachelor’s degree?”

  “Fire science.” He studied his utensils. “But I graduated in history.”

  “History? Interesting.” She leaned back in her chair.

  “Interesting, but not really a career. Ask my dad.” He shrugged. “I hoped to teach, but after my student-teaching stint, I realized I loved being a firefighter more. When I was offered a job with the fire department before any teaching positions opened up, it seemed like fate.”

  “So what brought you here?”

  Josh regarded her thoughtfully. “Do you want the truth?”

  “Nah. Lie to me.” She laughed. “Of course I want the truth.”

  He smiled, but it slid away as he concentrated on his steak and veggies. “I got divorced and wanted to escape.”

  “The memories?” she guessed, sliding her hand along the condensation on her water glass.

  “That, and …” He grinned. “My mom kept setting me up on dates with any woman who had hair and a job. I got the opportunity to transfer here. It’s a much smaller department, but it included a promotion to captain. I ran.”

  Emmy hadn’t ever thought about Josh being married before she met him. In her mind, he’d just been there waiting for her. What a selfish thing to imagine. “Hair and a job are important.” She speared a bite of salmon, savoring the buttery flavor.

  He chuckled. “Yes, but it makes for some interesting nights when the women you’re dating are handpicked from your mother’s salon.”

  Emmy pushed her broccoli around. “Aha. That makes more sense. Lots of hair, then?”

  “I’ve seen it all—dyed, permed, highlighted, crimped, you name it.” He tore off a chunk of bread.

  Emmy laughed, wishing she knew him well enough to ask why he got divorced. “Nice. So your mom might not approve: I’ve never been dyed, permed, or anything exciting.”