Stranger in Paradise

by McIntyre, Amanda

  “Really? Because I have to tell you, what happened last night was, well…it was amazing.”

  “Not just adequate, then?” He shifted and his arousal brushed her thigh. “Maybe you need to be reminded?” he asked, nuzzling her ear.

  An odd sound came from somewhere in the house. “Is that an air raid siren?” Kacey asked, tilting her head to accommodate his exploration.

  The odd-sounding siren blared again, vying for their attention.

  “Shit,” Zack muttered, and tossed the sheet back. He climbed out of bed, unfazed by his naked state, and strode out the door with a determined gait. “It’s the office calling.”

  Kacey watched in rapt fascination at his near-perfect backside, even better in the light of day. “Tell them thank you for calling.” She smiled and flopped back on the pillow, refusing to allow her thoughts to wander past the spectacular night. After a few moments, however, when it appeared he wasn’t going to return, Kacey showered, dressed, and decided to make breakfast. That alone was out of character. Cooking in her world was mostly by menu. Add that to the growing list of uncharacteristic aspects--case in point, her spontaneity in bed last night. He’d made her realize that maybe she should be a bit more adventuresome. “Think outside the box,” she said to her reflection as she slipped her hair up into a haphazard bun. After last night, she was ravenous, and her muse was eager to get started on the manuscript. Standing in the kitchen a few moments later, she heard his familiar gait coming down the steps.

  “Oh…you made breakfast.” His steps slowed.

  Kacey turned, toast in hand. “I thought you might be hungry.”

  “Yeah, except that I have some work to do this morning.”

  “Work? It’s starting to rain again.”

  “Exactly. I need to get outside and check for footprints.”

  “Oh, okay. Just let me clean up and I’ll come with you.” She had flipped off the burner of the stove when she felt his arms around her waist.

  “Kacey, last night was incredible…you’re incredible.”

  She faced him. “Why do I feel a but coming on?”

  “Let me do my job. Don’t you have writing to do?”

  “Well, yes, but--”

  “Then write.” He leaned down and looked into her eyes. “Okay? Then maybe we’ll go for a nice supper. How’d that be?”

  She chewed her lip in thought. He was right, of course. She wasn’t here to have a month of unbridled sex with a man who could put a Roman god to shame. “Sure,” she remarked, hoping to sound as casual as he seemed to be, considering she’d been walking on cloud nine all morning.

  “Okay, see you later.” He plucked the toast from the plate, tucked his gun into the back of his jeans, and slipped on his jacket.

  “Be careful,” she called after him.

  He turned and gave her a salute and a sexy grin.

  Kacey tossed the spatula in the sink, along with the frying pan. What had she expected, good morning, sunshine, and bluebirds? Grabbing herself a cup of coffee, she sat down and booted up her laptop. Glancing at her phone, she picked it up and called Harold, needing to find out what more he knew about the man he’d hired to watch over her.

  “How’s the writing coming?”

  Harold’s distracted voice and the sound of shuffling papers caught Kacey’s ear. “Is this a bad time?”

  “On my way to a meeting. I have a few minutes. Everything working out okay?”

  Kacey chewed her lip in thought. “What can you tell me about this man Zack Elliot that you’ve hired as my bodyguard.”

  There was a brief silence. “Damn. I was assured that he’d be great for this position.”

  Kacey smiled. And great at several others, as well. “No, no. He’s…we’re getting along just fine. I just don’t know a lot about him. My curiosity, I guess.”

  Harold cleared his throat. “I don’t know much, really. My friend in charge of a special unit suggested him. He said something about the guy getting back in the field after the disappearance of his longtime girlfriend.”

  The news sent a cold swirl of dread in the pit of Kacey’s stomach. He’d lost two people he loved dearly. What would that do to her?

  “Everything okay there?” Harold’s voice revealed a tinge of concern.

  She blinked away her thoughts. “Sure. Like I said, I was just curious.”

  “I suppose you could always ask him yourself, if you really want to know.”

  “Yeah, okay. You better get going. Don’t want you to be late.” Kacey wrestled with her misgivings that, despite his devil-may-care attitude, Zack had suffered through a lot and she wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to handle any more than what they’d shared.

  “Writing coming along okay?” Harold interjected.

  “Uh, sure. Getting a little bit done.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing, just let the man do his job.”

  “Take care,” she responded, feeling as though she’d already crossed that line.

  Loaded with enough caffeine to run a locomotive, Kacey hadn’t paid attention to the time. Another storm had rolled in over the lake, darkening the skies with intermittent rain. A knock on the door jarred her from her writing, and she rubbed her eyes as she walked to the door and looked first through the peephole.

  Seeing it was only Andrew, she opened the door. “Good morning. It is still morning, isn’t it?” She glanced up at the gray sky.

  “Yes...uh, no, technically it’s after lunch.” He seemed more nervous than usual. He leaned around her as if to see inside the house.

  The hairs on her neck stood on end, but holding her smile in place she reached up casually and locked the screen door between them. “What brings you out on this rainy day?” She eyed the large bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase that he held in the crook of his arm.

  “These are for you. I wanted to bring them by personally. Is your guest still here?”

  “My—oh, you mean Mr. Elliot?”

  He swallowed hard and looked around. “Yeah.”

  “He’s, uh… taking a shower,” she lied. “Did you need to speak with him?”

  “Speak with whom?” Zack walked up behind the young man. “Someone looking for me?” He slowed when he saw the flowers. “Very nice. From a secret admirer?” He grinned and glanced at Kacey.

  Andrew backed down the steps. He smacked the side of his head with his palm as though trying to remember something. “Oh, you know, I think I made a mistake. I think these are supposed to go to the next cabin. Sorry to have disturbed you.” He nodded his goodbye and hurried off. Kacey had a feeling those flowers hit the first dumpster out of their sight.

  “Seems Junior is a bit smitten.” Zack tugged on the door and when it didn’t budge, he smiled. “Smart girl.”

  Kacey flipped the lock and stood aside. “Not really. I had just told him that you were in the shower.”

  “Ouch.” He grimaced. “Sorry I interfered with him asking you to prom, but I’ve been up interviewing several staff members, asking where they were last night.”

  “And?” She followed him to the living room, where he collapsed on the couch. “What did you find out?”

  “Did you get some writing done?” he asked, kicking off his canvas deck shoes.

  “Answer my question first,” she insisted, planting her fists on her hips.

  He grinned and damn if tingles didn’t rush to her happy place—happy, at least, after last night. “Ok, as it turns out your boyfriend there got off work at the main lodge around ten.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” She chose the big chair in the corner of the living room. “And yes, I got some writing accomplished.”

  “Can I read it?” he asked, bracing on his elbow to look at her.

  “No, and what about Andrew? He’s not likely my stalker. A--he lives too far away and B--he’s much too young to go after someone like me.”

  Zack sat up and clasped his hands over his knees. “That’s why I wanted to have him checked
out. That call this morning was the information I asked for.”

  “You had him checked out?”

  Zack held out his palms. “Hey, after what you said about him being in the house when you arrived and the weird looks I got when he saw me here, hell yeah, I had him checked out.” He scratched the stubble of his unshaven beard. “Besides, it’s my understanding that your threats have come from email and postal carrier. You don’t need to live in the same town to accomplish that.”

  “But this person… this stalker, he’s referenced things that only someone who could see me would know. So, it can’t be Andrew, right?”

  Zack shrugged. “I have to check every possibility. Whether he is the guy sending you threatening emails or not, you have to admit his behavior has been weird.”

  “Maybe it’s just a crush.”

  “Could very well be. But we won’t know until the local forensics guys get out here and do a plaster cast of the shoeprint I found this morning.”

  Kacey’s blood chilled. “Where?”

  “Just the other side of the hedges. Near the patio where we both heard a noise the other night.”

  “Do you think he was spying on me?”

  Zack raised his brows. “Don’t know, but apparently there was a similar incident last fall at another cabin across the bay. Another single woman staying alone.”

  Kacey wrapped her arms around herself and curled up in the seat. In all the years she’d been coming to the resort, not once had she ever been concerned for her safety. “What are we going to do?”

  “Get a cast of this shoe, see if there’s a match, and then, if necessary, have a little talk with Mr. Andrew.”

  “But he hasn’t hurt anyone.”

  “True, but skulking around patrons’ cabins in the middle of the night and having entry access to any one of these cabins places him in a high-risk category. Left alone, it’s likely only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.” He stepped around the coffee table and knelt before her. “You understand this is protocol. Not just for your safety, but for the entire resort. If Andrew needs help, then we have to help him get it.”

  Kacey nodded.

  “Tell you what. I’m betting you haven’t eaten lunch. Why don’t we get out of here and you can show me where this Betsy’s Pie place is. Let me judge whether bumbleberry is as good as you claim.” He reached up and tucked an errant wisp of hair behind her ear.

  “I’m not very hungry.” The possibility that somehow she might have been watched in the one place she considered her safe haven nauseated her.

  “I know how you must be feeling. How much this place means to you. I’m sorry that stuff like this has tainted your view of it. It’s still a great resort and like you told me, you’ve been coming here every year and you’ve been fine.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on, take a ride with me. It’ll help, I promise. A change of perspective often does wonders, you’ll see.”

  “What about Andrew? What if it isn’t him? What if whoever it is comes back?” Cold suddenly, she hugged herself.

  “If that shoe matches Andrew’s, they’ll take care of it quietly and discreetly. You likely won’t even have to be involved.” He touched her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “As to the rest, that’s why I’m here I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Understand?”

  She leaned into him, needing to feel his arms around her, feel him close. Before now, the threats had been on paper—ambiguous, easy to set aside, distant. Suddenly, it seemed real, personal, and much more frightening. “Promise that you’ll stay until this is resolved.”

  He grinned. “That’s what they pay me the big bucks for, darlin’.” His expression sobered and he cupped her cheek. “Count on it.”

  Chapter Seven

  Zack glanced at her from across the table. She’d picked at her soup, opting to stare out the window throughout the entire meal. She’d tossed him a couple of nervous, quick smiles, but managed to avoid making conversation. Yeah, he’d had about enough of this.

  He tossed the fork down on his plate and sat back. “You plan to tell me what’s on your mind?”

  Kacey glanced up, surprised it seemed by his very presence.

  “Is this about last night?” He watched her face, trying to gauge her reaction.

  She stirred and poked at her soup, then shook her head. “No. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”

  He caught the young waitress’s eye and nodded that he needed more coffee to go with his second piece of pie. At this rate, he’d have a whole one finished by the time they left. “Okay, if it’s not about last night… which, by the way, I don’t regret. Do you?”

  Her gaze flickered to his. He knew it was smarter to leave it alone. Just let it be a one-time consensual thing between adults. The trouble was that until she was safe, they were going to be spending a lot more time in each other’s company.

  “No, I don’t regret it,” she said, setting aside her meal.

  Her lack of enthusiasm wasn’t exactly convincing. Still, he knew she had a lot on her plate, so he’d make it easier for her. “Meaning it can’t and shouldn’t happen again. I get it. You don’t need to explain.”

  She reached over and covered his hand. Sixty minutes of damn near total silence and her singular touch slammed into him with the impact of a tidal wave. He glanced at her hand and gently removed it. “I’m a big boy, Kacey. No regrets. No repeats.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Zack sighed and glanced out the window. Dammit. He hadn’t intended for this to happen; didn’t mean to let emotions screw up everything. It was better to nip this in the bud right now before things got any messier. He felt her gaze studying him. “Listen, Kacey, I do understand.” He leveled her a look.

  “Tell me about your girlfriend.”

  A cast iron skillet to the head would have been less painful. He pushed from his chair, ready to leave. She grabbed his hand.

  “Please, I want… I’d like to know.”

  He took a deep breath, glad they’d chosen a table in a screened porch adjacent to the main diner. He looked in her eyes and realized that this is what had been on her mind. How she knew was another question. He settled back in his chair and stared at the tall pine trees just a few yards from Betsy’s parking lot. Once an old house, the little diner sat back from the main road. The clapboard structure with its number of additions was nestled on three sides by dense Minnesota forest. Right now, he wanted to walk through those trees and get lost. He unscrambled his thoughts before he spoke. “How did you know?”

  “I spoke to Harold this morning.”

  “Checking up on me?” He chuckled, tossing her a quick glance.

  “I admit I was curious to know more about you… after last night.”

  “If there was something you wanted to know, why not ask me?”

  “That’s what Harold said.”

  “Seems like a smart guy.”

  She looked down at her tea mug. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  “What did Harold tell you?” He wasn’t sure that it was necessary, even wise, to delve any further into this conversation since after her stalker was caught, the chances of seeing her again were slim to none.

  “Only that you’d known her a long time and that she disappeared. Nothing more, which”--she looked up at him--“I guess made me a little more curious.”

  He held her gaze as a moment ticked by. The muted sounds from patrons in the next room infiltrated the silence.

  “Her name is Jessica.” He refused to use her name in anything but present tense. Even though it had been over two years, a body had ever been found, but there’d been no trace of her, either.

  Kacey wrapped her hands around her cup, clearly waiting for him to continue.

  He stared at his half-eaten pie. “We met at the grocery store, of all places. Dated off and on for about a year, when she decided it was time to take the next step in our relationship. Wanting it… us… to work, I agreed and she moved in.�
�� He shrugged, thinking back, assessing the new beginning of their relationship. Hindsight, as they say is twenty-twenty. “Jess was... is a passionate woman, and by that, I mean we had our arguments. Had neighbors bang on the walls once in a while, but never anything serious.” He shook his head. “Stupid stuff, really, like putting the cap back on the milk jug. Rinsing the sink after I brushed my teeth.” He paused and glanced at Kacey. Her expression, solemn, hadn’t changed. “I won’t read any of this fictionalized somewhere down the road, will I?”

  She crooked her head. “Give me some credit, Zack. You told me about your brother, and now this? I don’t know how you’ve managed to deal with it.”

  He offered a half-smile. “One day at a time, I guess you could say.”

  “What happened… I mean, if you’d rather not talk about it, I’d understand.”

  He held her gaze. “But you’d still be curious about me.”

  She pressed her lips together with a challenging look. “Probably, but it’s because I care about you.”

  He stopped her with an upturned hand. “You barely know me.” Those eyes spoke volumes. Damn. “Kacey, what we shared was very special. I don’t know… maybe Jessica’s disappearance—it not being resolved—is my problem.”

  She nodded. “And I’m a big girl, Zack. I don’t expect that, because we slept together, you’re going to get down on bended knee and propose. Believe it or not, I understand your hesitancy to get involved with anyone until you have resolution. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you. No matter what happens, I’d like to think we can be friends. Have you ever talked to anyone about any of this?”

  “Only about seventy sessions with a court-appointed counselor.”

  “Court?”

  He sighed. “Jessica had a cousin who’d gotten in with a bad crowd—Mexican drug tie-ins—bad news. Drugs, prostitution, gambling—you name it. She didn’t want me to know, but I knew she’d given him money on more than one occasion to get him out of trouble.” He raised his brows. “I tried to talk to her about it, but she refused to listen.”

  Kacey’s gaze narrowed. “That’s really dangerous stuff. What was she thinking?”