No, she thought, she would continue to keep her secret. Kit had too much going on in her life right now, too much to deal with to get bogged down with her problems. And Quinn, Quinn was a brand new resident doctor, just a month into her first year of residency. Others might not recognize her as “Doctor” Tyler just yet, but as far as Baylee was concerned, Quinn had earned the right to focus on her future, her career, without the added problems she brought to the table.
Baylee sucked in a nervous breath and made a promise. She’d been handling the stress and pressure of it all for the past fifteen months—by herself.
She would handle this on her own as well. She had to.
Dylan Burke didn’t mind the drive up the Pacific Coast Highway.
In fact, as he made his way north to San Madrid along the PCH, he sat behind the wheel of his classic muscle car, a spiffy convertible, a brilliant metallic blue 1968 Chevy Camaro he’d restored himself from the shell out, and jammed to Springsteen, drumming along as The Boss sang about having a hungry heart. Enjoying the scenery, Dylan absently reached over and cranked up the volume.
On one side of the road he watched the waves lap up against the shoreline, moving lazily in and out. On the other side, he enjoyed a glimpse of fast-moving rolling hills dotted with clusters of purple lupine, California orange poppies, and sand asters in late spring bloom.
The ocean breeze lifted the loose blond hair Dylan hadn’t bothered tying back into his usual stumpy ponytail. As he took in the scenic drive, he decided doing a favor for his best friend, Jake Boston, who also happened to be his employer, had its own rewards.
Today the VP of research and development at Billing-Pro Software was playing errand boy. He’d promised Jake, who was basically babysitting Kit Griffin and working from her house in San Madrid, that he’d drop off some much needed computer equipment to make telecommuting a little easier.
And after last night’s kidnapping, Dylan knew Jake had no intention of letting Kit out of his sight for even a minute. So he knew the state-of-the-art scanner, the extra modem, as well as the laptop computer he carried in the trunk of his car would be a welcome addition to Jake’s virtual home office.
Dylan didn’t dwell on the fact that he could have simply shipped the equipment via same day delivery. No, he had volunteered to make the trip for one purely selfish reason. The side benefit stood about five-three with shoulder-length brown hair and had the most alluring pair of aquamarine eyes he’d ever seen.
He didn’t even want to linger for very long on the way Baylee Scott filled out a pair of jeans. If he was completely honest with himself, he’d been captivated by her since that first night at the hospital, the night Collin Boyd had run Kit’s car off the road.
Just thinking about Baylee made him grin. No, he didn’t mind making this side trip at all.
By the time he reached the city limits sign, denoting San Madrid, population four thousand and seventy-five, he left the four-lane PCH and headed due east away from the ocean.
Turning onto a genuine cobblestone Main Street, Dylan drove through the quaint fishing village, past a picturesque town square complete with a free-flowing fountain, past an assortment of shops until he reached the outskirts of town. By the time he realized he’d run out of shops and businesses, he was headed north again, out of town, connecting back to the PCH.
In the blink of an eye, he’d completely blown past the heart of the little town. He looked for a place to make a sharp U turn and headed back the way he’d come. A half a mile or so back, he hit the business district and noticed the old-fashioned street signs, the gas streetlamps, and realized the town looked more like a scene out of the 1950’s.
Pulling the car to a stop into a slotted street parking space directly in front of the Book & Bean, Dylan hoped this spur-of-the-moment visit wasn’t a bold move on his part. The other times he’d been around Baylee, she’d been skittish. And that was putting it mildly. He might not know a lot about this particular woman, but he did know she showed all the signs of having been hurt. Big time.
As he got out of the car, he began to have second thoughts. To top it off, she was a single mother—a woman with a baby. In all the years of doing the backstroke in the dating pool, he’d never once so much as gone near a single mom. It hadn’t been something he had purposely avoided; it just hadn’t come up before.
The women he usually dated were a far cry from mother material. If he had an ounce of sense, he’d get back in his car right now and head on over to Kit’s house, drop off the equipment, head to the nearest beach and grab his surfboard before the tide changed.
But something in Baylee’s beautiful eyes had pulled at him that first night he’d met her. And weeks later the woman was still doing a solo drumbeat in his head he couldn’t shake.
Refusing to listen to his inner voice of reason, Dylan opened the door of the bookstore and stepped inside. Immediately he removed his Oakley Spikes, looping them in the V of his shirt.
The minute his eyes adjusted to the inside light, he took in the rows and rows of shelves filled with books, everything from romance novels, suspense and thrillers to science fiction, true crime, self-help, and a wealth of cookbooks. When he spotted the mystery section, he moved that way to check it out, telling himself he might as well pick out a couple of thrillers while he was here.
And then Dylan heard the baby babble. There was no other way to describe it.
He fixed his eyes on the small bundle of kicking feet, wearing cherry pink overalls, gurgling away in the Pack ‘N Play set up by the cash register in the middle of the store.
He watched as the tiny little thing flopped on her stomach, those big blue eyes, so like her mother’s, trying to zero in on a plastic spoon-looking thing. As he stood mesmerized, she reached out a chubby little fist trying to make a grab for the spoon thing. As she made the reach she rose up as if to crawl, but landed back down, flat on her belly.
Fascinated, Dylan stood there entranced until he heard voices. His eyes drifted to Sarah’s harried mother, dressed in a form-fitting blue sun dress, a shade lighter than those aqua colored eyes.
Baylee was in the process of helping a difficult customer, trying to locate a particular hard-to-find second book in a trilogy, when she looked up at the man standing beside the Pack ‘N Play. Their eyes met. She stopped what she was doing long enough to wave at him. He saw her absently brush a few loose strands of hair off of her face, a gesture he recognized as a habit she had when she was uneasy, which was practically twenty-four-seven.
When the customer decided she’d buy another book by the same author, Baylee cheerfully rang up the woman’s purchase, trying to keep her mind on the transaction instead of on the tall, lean, muscular man with blond hair that hung loose to his shoulders. The hair made him look more like a surfer instead of the vice president of a software company.
Dylan watched her work the register, but noticed that all the while she kept a nervous, watchful eye on the baby. She might be jumpy, thought Dylan, but the woman was an energetic little package and then some.
As soon as the customer turned to leave, Baylee shoved the cash drawer closed and charged over to the Pack ‘N Play. She leaned down and picked up Sarah, snuggling the baby into her body. Turning to Dylan, she asked sweetly, “What brings you to San Madrid? Are you lost?”
His mouth curved into a cocky grin. “I’m playing delivery boy this morning, dropping off some computer equipment for Jake. After what happened last night, the man’s determined not to let Kit out of his sight for two seconds. I’m on my way over there now. But I couldn’t pass through town without stopping by to check out the legendary Book & Bean, now could I? Not when I might be able to talk you out of some more of that mouth-watering chocolate cake, the kind you brought the other night to Gloria’s.”
If it were possible, Baylee’s smile widened all the way to her cute ears where a pair of huge silver hoops dangled prominently. “So you liked my cake. The secret’s in the cinnamon. I mix cinnamon in with the chocol
ate. Of course, I’m not as good at baking as Kit is, but let’s face it, since her accident, she gave me the go-ahead to try my hand at some of her tried-and-true recipes. You know, just so the customers won’t go elsewhere for their baked goods while she was on the mend.
“And after what happened last night… I offered to open up this morning. Give her some extra time to recover from her ordeal. Thank God someone came along when they did and rescued Kit from Collin and then called Jake. Collin threatened to kill her, Dylan. If that stranger hadn’t come along…”
Baylee realized she was sputtering like an old car out of tune. For Pete’s sake, could she just shut up for a minute? Why did she always let this man with the surfer body, the blond hair and the bedroom blue eyes make her so nervous? She needed to get a grip.
Even though her rambling only reflected how grateful she was to the unnamed man who had come along at just the right moment, she just couldn’t help but marvel at the miracle of that.
She looked up and saw Dylan grin at the fact she’d finally stopped talking.
“Come on, we’ll take care of that sweet tooth of yours, Mr. Burke.”
As he followed her lead into the coffee shop, he tried to get his mind on something besides the woman’s legs. It was the first time he’d seen her wearing a dress. And disappointed, he wasn’t. In fact, if it were possible he thought she looked better than he’d ever seen her, more rested, more relaxed, not as jittery as usual. In fact she appeared downright happy.
As he looked around the shop, the place was empty, not a customer in sight. But it was spotless. The weathered oak counter was buffed to a glossy shine that matched the one on the hardwood floors. The half a dozen small round oak tables had been bussed and the chairs neatly pushed underneath.
There were four overstuffed chairs that looked like you could hunker down and get comfortable in them and stay a while to read a book. He noted the glass display case was polished to a shine, didn’t have a smudge on it, and held a rather stark assortment of various baked goods, including a couple of leftover cherry tarts and four paltry cinnamon rolls. The inventory had either been picked over, or hadn’t been there to begin with.
“Slow day?”
“Now it is. The media with their camera crews cleared out about thirty minutes ago. You just missed them. They ate everything Gloria and I baked last night. Gloria’s guest cottage doesn’t have much in the way of a kitchen, but with Kit out of action until recently and the coffee shop still needing a supply of pastry, Gloria and I have been teaming up using her kitchen to make sure there are plenty of baked goods to sell.
“But it just so happens I saved back the chocolate cake. I planned to drop it off at Kit’s with the other leftovers when I closed up.”
He sucked in a breath, blew it out. “Glad to hear the media got tired of waiting. Those two don’t need any more hassles.”
“They didn’t. Get tired of waiting, that is. They took off after getting a tip about some mega superstar who tried to surf off Malibu and had to be rescued by lifeguards. The fact that he had to be rushed to the hospital topped the Jake and Kit saga. The mega star’s unfortunate mishap had all of them scrambling out of here like ants after sugar, cleared the place out. Kit and Jake can’t compete with that.” Her lips curled in a wide grin.
“The vultures are like pond scum, aren’t they? You wouldn’t happen to know who called that tip in, would you?”
She grinned and gave him a wink. “Don’t have a clue.” She hadn’t grown up in the heart of Hollywood for nothing. She knew well how the paparazzi prized a good celebrity sighting, especially when there was the chance the “star” might have suffered injuries.
“You must have been swamped here by yourself.”
“For a little while it was chaos, but we’re used to a line out the door. There’s a rush here almost every morning. We don’t officially open until seven, but Kit has the locals spoiled. The early birds commuting into Ventura and L.A. know if they drop in around six-thirty or so she’ll go ahead and fix them up with coffee and fresh Danish.
“This morning I opened the doors around six-forty, had a line out the door waiting. The locals usually get here early, but this morning… the press beat them to the door. But you should have seen it here yesterday. The whole town came out to support their local girl. The media showed up to get the lowdown on Jake and Kit. But what they got instead was how much the townspeople loved and supported her. It was a kick to watch. Every time a reporter asked one of them what they thought about living with a murderer in their midst, each one of them reiterated how Kit would never hurt anyone. The support of the townspeople just blew her away.”
“I was there last night after Collin and his two thugs grabbed Kit. Jake blamed himself.”
“Oh, he shouldn’t have. It wasn’t his fault Collin and those horrible men broke in and waited for her inside the house. And they gave her some kind of drug that knocked her out. Fortunately, she doesn’t remember a thing. Well, other than it was Collin who kidnapped her.”
Dylan watched as she stepped behind the counter and removed the lid from a cake pedestal. With the baby sitting happily on her hip, she worked one-handed to cut him a wide slice of chocolate cake brimming with thick double fudge icing. He watched in wonder as the woman worked single-handedly, holding the baby in place.
Out of habit, she asked, “Would you like some coffee with this?”
Exasperated, he couldn’t just stand there and watch her serve him like that no matter how adept at it she was. “Baylee, why don’t I either hold Sarah for you or pour my own damn coffee?”
Surprised that he’d offer, she arched a brow and looked at the man thoughtfully. “Do you know what you’re doing? Do you know how to handle a baby?”
He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and reached for Sarah. “Women. What’s to handle? My sister has a kid about this size. First you pick them up by their legs, swing them around a couple of times…” He hooted with laughter when he saw the look of horror come into her face.
“You are so easy,” he pined as he joined her behind the counter.
Baylee surrendered Sarah into his waiting arms and watched as the man seemed to know what he was doing.
By Dylan’s calculation the baby weighed maybe twelve pounds, but that was probably an eighth of what her mother weighed. Small-framed, petite, and long-legged was what she was, thought Dylan as he took a seat at one of the tables. Jostling the baby up against his shoulder, he rubbed her back like he’d seen Baylee do.
He couldn’t help it. He inhaled the way Sarah smelled in waves of talcum and lotion.
“She really is a cute thing, isn’t she? How long has she been rolling over?”
Relishing the opportunity to talk about her daughter, Baylee all but glowed when she told him, “A couple of days now. It’s like she’s trying to swim, flopping her little arms around grabbing for everything.”
She took out one of the over-sized cups and filled it up with a Hazelnut blend. As she brought his cake and coffee over to the table, she studied his good looks. And sighed audibly. The man had to be a heartbreaker. She might be a single mom, but she still had a healthy libido.
She’d noticed Dylan that night at the hospital even before he’d gone out of his way to find her a place to feed Sarah. What woman, even a single mother, wouldn’t take notice of a blond-haired, blue-eyed, six-one Adonis who would go out of his way to do something sweet when he didn’t have to?
Then he’d been just as nice to her when they’d all met up at Gloria’s the night they’d gone over how Alana and Jessica must have murdered the Parkers. The man had gone out of his way yet again to make sure she was comfortable. He’d sat down next to her to ask baby questions about Sarah’s development as if he’d really been interested. Of course, Baylee knew he was just being nice. A single guy like Dylan wouldn’t give a hoot about a baby, or her for that matter.
But who couldn’t resist the guy’s charm?
Whoa there, Nellie, thought Baylee. Do
NOT go there. Stoplight dead ahead.
Baylee stretched out her arms and said, “Here, I’ll take her back while you eat.” But just as she started to scoot into a chair and take Sarah out of Dylan’s arms, she went dead still in mid-motion.
She froze in terror.
Dylan saw the color drain from her face, saw her hands drop in mid-air, saw her whole body tense as she stood erect, facing into the bookstore, body language on full alert.
Even as he tried to make some sense of her demeanor, he saw her cool blue eyes fill with stark terror. There was no other way to describe the panicked look that came into those pools of liquid blue or the look of sheer horror on her face.
The look of fear was so blatant that for an instant Dylan thought that maybe the place was about to be robbed, so he turned to follow her gaze and saw she was looking beyond the coffee shop into the bookstore. With her having the better vantage point, it occurred to Dylan she could very well be staring down the possibility of an armed thief.
But the words out of her mouth didn’t match that scenario.
Without looking at Dylan, Baylee whispered so only he could hear, “Don’t ask me any questions. Just do what I tell you. Get up and leave.” She took a step forward as if to block both of them from view. It was an obvious protective gesture.
“Get up. Now! Take Sarah to Kit, Dylan. Leave right this minute. Go. Get out of the store and take Sarah. Don’t come back in the store with her no matter what you hear or see. Understand?”
When he didn’t immediately move, Baylee snapped, “Just do it, Dylan. Now!”
Dutifully, Dylan did as he was told. He got up from the table and made a hasty retreat outside through the front door of the coffee shop, clutching Sarah to his shoulder. Once he hit the sidewalk he kept walking, past the front door of the bookstore. As he ambled by the window, he glanced through the glass and saw a man dressed in a suit and tie, a man he recognized as Connor Boyd, standing to the side of the counter with an intense expression on his face.
Deeper Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 2) Page 2