Deeper Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 2)

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Hey, all of us love watching football, UCLA games, of course. We try to get tickets when the Bruins play Cal every year. But I never miss a Raider game on TV. I keep thinking one day we’ll get another NFL franchise in the L.A. market, but it doesn’t mean I’d stop rooting for the Raiders.”

  “Cal graduate just like Jake and Reese. I can see rough times ahead whenever Cal plays the Bruins.”

  “I know. I saw the pictures on your desk in Sarah’s room.”

  “Interested enough for a little wager when the season starts this fall?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They tidied up after eating, and moved into the house, settling into the living room on the sofa. Dylan automatically turned on the TV. “How about a movie?”

  She wasn’t sure she could keep her eyes open. But after he had stood up good old Melissa this evening, she felt like she should at least try to make an effort to be sociable. This was his house after all. And he’d been a good sport during her meltdown. Two, actually.

  “Sure. What have you got?”

  He pointed to a cabinet where he kept a collection of DVDs. “Ladies’ choice.”

  She went over and started thumbing through the titles until she came to the original 1968 Night of the Living Dead. “How about this?” It was the Thirtieth Anniversary Edition. How cool was that?

  He’d been ready for her to pull out the only chick flick he owned, Sleepless in Seattle, which women seemed unable to pass up while he found it boring as hell. But she surprised him. “Are you sure you want to watch sci-fi, bloodthirsty zombies?”

  Taking a seat on the couch, she kicked off her shoes and got comfortable. “Technically, I consider this horror, not sci-fi, and it’s a classic. But yeah, I like cheesy horror, like Shaun of the Dead. Priceless.”

  Was she putting him on? “I loved that movie. How about a double feature, what say, we make it zombie night?” The woman watched football, liked cheesy horror flicks, looked like a swimsuit model in a mismatched bikini, and filled out a pair of jeans in a way that made a man weep. How lucky could a guy get?

  Dylan found that watching a movie with a true film buff, a movie he’d seen twenty times previously, brought a new dimension to it because Baylee knew all the cool trivia. “A lot of people don’t know that since it was filmed in black and white the director used chocolate sauce for the blood. The actors playing the zombies had to eat so much of the stuff they got sick from all the chocolate. And the scene where the undead eat the burning flesh, they were actually gnawing on ham.”

  Dylan laughed at the details she provided; he couldn’t help it. Nothing like behind the scenes trivia to spice up a true film buff’s enjoyment.

  During the break between movies, despite the baby monitor, Baylee went in and physically checked on Sarah just for her own peace of mind. When she came back, she got comfortable on the couch again and announced, “I have to do something about my hair.”

  As he loaded the second feature into the DVD player, he absently asked, “What’s wrong with your hair?”

  “It’s brown.”

  Baffled as to what the color of her hair had to do with anything, he turned to stare at the hair in question. It looked just as good down around her shoulders as it had when she’d had it up at the restaurant. Rubbing his chin, he pondered the dicey path before him. Women were indeed strange creatures, information from the data bank that came from sharing a bathroom for so many years with his older sister. And his mother had her own little nuances that a sensible son never questioned. Carefully, he tested the waters. “So?”

  “I have to bleach it back. I’m a blonde, as blonde as you are, or was.”

  “Blonde?” He tilted his head to give her a long once-over. “You dyed your hair?” And then the tumblers clicked into place. Since her hair was no longer up in that twisted knot she’d worn earlier, he picked up a few loose strands, ran them through his fingers. “This was your version of a disguise.”

  “Obviously, it didn’t work.”

  When she yawned his eyes remained on her mouth. She felt his gaze. Her eyes locked on his. Her pulse bumped up. Baylee felt the tug of warmth, the pull of heat move through her like an electric current. Before she knew what was happening, he had her drawn into his chest.

  Need kicked in. She responded in an instant, clinging to his shirt.

  His teeth nipped, tugged on her mouth, urging her to open. He was practiced, skilled. When he moved from her mouth to nibble that sensitive part just below her ear, he felt her body tremble. It was his undoing. Her little panting breaths sent him further down that measured slide toward a burning inferno.

  The pull in her lower belly had her thinking how long it had been. His hands roamed over her back, her rear. They fell back against the couch cushions. He found her mouth again. With his tongue he began to explore the textures within.

  They came up for air. “Baylee.”

  “Dylan. What was that?”

  “Heat.” But he tried to make a joke. “Has it really been so long you don’t recognize a kiss?” He had no choice, but to make light of it. The kiss had been electric. Better than he thought. And he had thought about it in detail. When she started to speak, he put a finger to her mouth. “Don’t say anything. We’re just gonna sit here and watch another movie, that’s all. Take it nice and slow.” He tried to convince himself as much as her. For several long seconds, he repeated this mantra over and over to himself. He could just as easily have led her to the bedroom now. But she was a guest in his house. And he was lusting after a mother of a little baby sleeping just down the hall.

  “I’d forgotten what it was like.” Had a kiss ever punched through her libido like that one?

  When he pushed the button on the remote, starting the DVD player, he tried to sound casual and act like it was no big deal. “Anytime you need a reminder, just let me know.”

  “Are you just feeling sorry for me, Dylan?”

  “That’s unlikely. There’s the fact that I’m attracted to you first of all. But, I think you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Is that why you offered me a place to stay? Because you’re attracted to me?”

  “A little. Maybe. I want to get to know you. I want you to know me. I don’t want Connor to find you. Any man, who did what he did, is perverse, twisted.” And the thought that Connor had probably done it to countless other women several times before Baylee nagged at him. “You needed a place he didn’t know about. Now what I don’t understand is why you’d think I’d feel sorry for you?”

  “Because I was a blubbering idiot earlier. Because I’ve got Sarah. Because I’m a…”

  “Mess,” he finished for her. “I know. And Sarah is the reason we’re going to take it nice and slow.” And he’d do it if he had to cool this need inside him several times a day.

  When the movie credits rolled, they turned their attention to the screen, but they remained locked together in an embrace.

  It felt good to have his arms wrapped around her, she thought, as she tried not to drift into that fantasy-land where this man would actually love and care for her and Sarah. Even though she had no business going there, she floated along on gossamer wings toward a world that didn’t really exist—and never had, at least, not for her.

  Across town, the tremor went virtually unnoticed, mainly because Trevor focused on the new game in town. His name was Uri Jankovic, a hit man the Serbian mob favored. It wasn’t the first time Trevor had crossed paths with this particular hired gun. Ten years earlier he’d shown up in Moscow when they’d both been after the same target. Trevor took some comfort knowing Jankovic was a shoddy hack who made frequent mistakes and had over the years been known to inflate his skills to land a job.

  Just before midnight, Trevor watched from a distance as a rented, big-ass Chrysler 300 sedan pulled up in front of the gates at The Enclave. Once past the security guard, the Chrysler crawled along the path to Connor Boyd’s place. When Jankovic finally emerged from the car, Trevor noted the
man looked like he’d gained at least forty pounds. He’d been a sloppy mess before, but now the man was overweight and out of shape, not exactly a sterling opponent. But there was no mistaking this was the same man he’d seen bumble so many jobs around the globe.

  Knowing Geller had hired an incompetent like Jankovic told Trevor everything he needed to know. Frank Geller was either desperate or had taken the cheap route. Jankovic was far from the best. In Trevor’s world, the man was known to have bungled more jobs than he’d completed. Obviously, Geller hadn’t asked for references.

  The listening device told Trevor they were indeed panicking. It didn’t take long for their byplay to annoy him. Did these people ever take responsibility for their own behavior? He doubted any of them ever had. But at least he didn’t have to guess what they were planning. What a bunch of clowns!

  There was no doubt in Trevor’s mind who would win this round.

  And it wouldn’t be Jankovic.

  CHAPTER 10

  Through a haze of sleep, Dylan thought he heard baby babble. But his focus, without opening his eyes, was on the sinuous female body nestled on top of his from chin to toe.

  He smelled her hair, moved his head slightly to nestle further in its softness as each strand fanned out over his chest. He felt the curvy shape of breasts and nipples as the points touched his belly through his shirt. Hard as iron, all he had to do was…

  He felt something damp on his stomach. He blinked awake about the same time Baylee’s head popped up. They were still on the living room sofa, stretched out lengthwise. Baylee’s body rested atop his. The last thing he remembered from last night was looking down at Baylee and realizing she’d fallen asleep. They had cuddled together and now…

  Mussed from sleep, he watched as she touched her hand to her tank top.

  “Oh my God, what time is it?”

  He saw distinct wet spots on the top where her nipples sat erect. He was suddenly aware that her breasts had leaked through her shirt and onto his stomach. As her face turned several shades of pink, she too, was aware of that fact. Lifting his arm so he could read his watch, he struggled to zone in on the time. “Six-thirty. I think.”

  Her embarrassment turned to joy as she pushed her hair off her face and leaned up at him. Her lips curved. “She didn’t wake up. Sarah finally slept through the night.”

  In this split second, her joy suddenly became his. He grinned. “I guess she was as worn out as we were.”

  As she shifted to crawl off him, Baylee felt the evident bulge in his jeans. Without meaning to, her eyes drifted downward, stayed there as desire warmed her from the inside out until deeper color flushed her cheeks. Her breasts dripped even more.

  Then more baby babble filled the air.

  Baylee pushed the rest of the way off, trying to get her mind off that bulge. “I…I have to go feed…Sarah.”

  He lifted his head in time to see her bolt down the hallway. Through the baby monitor, he heard her go through the motions of tending to the baby, changing her diaper, getting her dressed, settling her to her breast.

  Maybe the monitors positioned all over the house were a bad idea, a really bad idea. He could still feel Baylee’s small, delectable body on top of his. He sucked in a breath.

  Lying there, he knew one thing.

  He was a man who’d traveled all over the world. After college he’d taken off across Europe before settling into his job as Jake’s lead programmer. Over the years, the success of Billing-Pro Software had allowed him to explore a number of exotic destinations in places like Wales and Japan in pursuit of both business and pleasure. He’d bedded dozens of women, all shapes, all kinds. He’d enjoyed every one of them. But he’d never wanted a woman more than he did the one down the hall with the baby—the one living in his house.

  He needed a cold shower, or better still, a dip in the ocean. He was up off the couch in a flash. In his bedroom, he changed into trunks before zipping into his wetsuit. On the back patio, he grabbed his surfboard and made his way across the beach to the water…and dived in.

  While Kit worked the constant stream of customers coming in and out of the coffee shop, Jake took care of the flow in the bookstore. Waiting on customers, helping them find the books they were looking for might seem like a completely different world than his, but over the last few days he’d found that it wasn’t that dissimilar to selling software. The product was different, but you still had to make a sale.

  He had just made his tenth sale of the morning when he decided to take advantage of the lull in traffic to surf the Internet once again for Ben Griffin. As he waited for his laptop to boot up, he decided he might as well check his e-mails once he was logged in.

  After waiting for startup he logged into his account and found fourteen messages in the inbox, all work-related, but one message with the subject titled “Claire’s Murder” had his pulse beating faster. The sender read Anonymous.

  Who was messing with him now? He wondered as he automatically scanned the e-mail for viruses. When it came up clean, against his better judgment, he opened the message—and seethed. Pulled in by the content, he almost didn’t hear Kit’s footsteps on the hardwood floor as she came into the bookstore.

  He quickly closed out of the program and turned off his laptop just in time for Kit to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He felt like hitting something. Instead he took comfort in Kit’s body.

  Sucking in a breath, he vowed to get his mind off the e-mail, at least for now. But nothing could take his mind off the message. And why anyone would be sending it now, two years after the fact? That was just wrong. As he held Kit, his mind ticked off a quick mental list of people who might be toying with him.

  Top of the list, of course, was Max St. John, the lead detective in Claire’s murder investigation. Next was Collin Boyd. But considering the content, it wouldn’t be Collin. He wasn’t that clever. That left St. John, which made even less sense.

  As he contemplated his next move, Kit wanted to know, “There’s a lull in traffic. Why don’t we lock the place up and head up to my office upstairs? Whaddaya say we finally christen the top of that desk?”

  He tried to get into a playful mood but fell far short. “Lock up the Book & Bean in the middle of the day? That might be asking for more gossip than you could handle.”

  He didn’t fool Kit, nor did his demeanor. “What’s wrong, Jake? The day you aren’t interested in christening my desktop upstairs, something’s wrong. Did you find Ben?”

  He shook his head. “Look, it’s just a work-related problem. I’m not ready to talk about it.” That was partly true.

  She eyed him doubtfully. After knowing him for so long, she didn’t buy his performance. He was hiding something. He’d been on the computer when she’d rounded the corner; if it wasn’t about Ben, then what was it? “Why is it, that I don’t believe you? But this is one of those times you don’t want to tell me because you think I might worry, isn’t it?”

  He grinned in spite of himself. “You know me pretty well.”

  “Like a book. Okay, for now I’ll let it go. You can keep your secrets to yourself. But don’t think you can freeze me out just to keep me from worrying. We’re a team now. You can’t hold back everything, just like you can’t be with me every second of every day. It’s impossible. But because I’m madly in love with you, you get a pass—for now.” She kissed him soundly on the mouth. “But just one. Maybe when you get your head out of your ass, I’ll be around to christen that desk upstairs.”

  Baylee was at the stove scrambling eggs as the smell of bacon wafted through the air when she turned and saw Dylan standing in the doorway fresh from his shower. She knew he’d left earlier to go surfing. “How was the water?”

  “Great.” He bent down to Sarah’s eye level as she sat quietly in her swing, gumming a yellow plastic ring. “Way to sleep through the night there, Gidget. Your mama needed the sleep.” To Baylee he said, “Breakfast smells good.”

  “I thought you might be hungry. And I want
ed to thank you for last night when you talked me through my meltdown. You’ve been great since I’ve been here.” Baylee set on the table a large platter filled with pancakes that had been warming in the oven. “Dig in.”

  He was just about to when an incredibly tall, gorgeous blonde appeared on the deck, waving through the open back door to get his attention. She wore a wetsuit zipped down to the waist, showing off a red hot bikini top that revealed ample breasts. She carried a surfboard. “Hi Dylan! I thought you might have time for a ride.” The invitation was no more subtle than the bikini.

  What the hell was Angie doing here?

  Dylan moved with the speed of a wide receiver toward the blonde standing on the deck. As he passed by Sarah’s swing, an idea formed. In one fluid motion, he scooped Sarah up to his shoulder, talking as he went. “How’s my girl this morning? Whatddya say we go see what Angie wants?”

  The movement startled the baby so much her teething ring went flying. Dylan didn’t notice, didn’t stop to retrieve the baby’s toy. His main objective was to get rid of Angie as fast as he could. “Hi Ange, how’s it going? Thanks for the invite, but I’ve already been in the water this morning. Would you like to meet Sarah and Baylee?”

  “Sarah and Baylee? Sure.” But Angie didn’t look like she was sure. She looked downright crestfallen. But she leaned her board on the side of the house and stepped through the back door and into the kitchen with a wariness that spoke volumes.

  Dylan jostled the baby like a proud father showing her off for the first time. “This is Sarah, my daughter.”

  “Daughter?” Angie took a step back in retreat. “But she’s a baby.”

  From the kitchen table, five feet away, Baylee could see the woman doing the math in her head. Oh, this was priceless. Baylee crossed her arms and watched the major player test out his infinite charm. His performance made her want to grab the popcorn. How did he plan to talk his way out of this one?