The Virgin and Zach Coulter

by Lois Faye Dyer

  If she were Zach, she would be able to draw only one conclusion—all the evidence pointed to her guilt.

  Her stomach was tied in knots, but by the time she’d dried her hair, then dressed in clean shorts and a top, she’d made up her mind. She picked up her cell phone and dialed Zach.

  “Hello.” The familiarity of his deep voice was both comforting and fraught with tension for Cynthia.

  “Hi, Zach, it’s me.”

  “Cynthia, what’s up?”

  At least he didn’t sound angry and he hadn’t immediately hung up, she thought. “I have some information for you, although I don’t know if it will help or just make things more confusing.”

  “What is it?” He sounded interested but faintly distracted, as if his attention was elsewhere.

  “My mother has been seeing Jim Meyers.”

  Silence met her statement.

  “Zach? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I heard. Since when?”

  “She said they ran into each other shortly after she came back to town, so it’s been a few weeks.” Cynthia wished she could tell if he thought the information was helpful. “I don’t see how this helps but I thought I should tell you. It just seems suspicious that he’s seeing my mother at the same time he somehow gained possession of documents he could only have accessed off my computer.”

  “Sounds too coincidental—unbelievably so,” Zach agreed. “Didn’t you tell me you have an external hard drive at home that you use to back up your laptop files?”

  “Yes, I do. But it’s password protected. I don’t see how he could have gained access.”

  “Hold on.” His voice was instantly muffled, as if he’d covered the receiver with his hand. “Are you going to be home for a while?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m sending J.T. in to pick up your hard drive and laptop. Are you okay with that?”

  “Certainly. But I’d be glad to bring it out if you need it, Zach.”

  “No.” His voice was adamant, brusque. “I don’t want you involved in this. J.T. will be there in about twenty minutes or so—I’ll need passwords for your locked files on the laptop and access to the external drive.”

  Cynthia gave him the information and a moment later, he said goodbye.

  A little while later, J.T. knocked on her door, collected the laptop and hard drive and after a few moments left, but since the teenager had known as little as Cynthia about what Zach was up to, she was none the wiser.

  Anxious to know whether Zach had solved the mystery, Cynthia arrived at work early the following morning, only to learn that Zach wasn’t there.

  When he hadn’t shown up by noon, she called Cade.

  “I was hoping to talk to Zach this morning,” she told him. “Do you know where he is?”

  “He drove down to Billings to pick up a visitor at the airport. He wants you to meet him at the commissioners’ offices at four this afternoon.”

  And that was all the information Cade would give her. She was sure he knew more about the mysterious visitor and Zach’s investigation, but if he did, he wasn’t sharing.

  Frustrated, Cynthia went back to work, checking shipping invoices against the deliveries by hand. Her laptop still hadn’t been returned.

  The afternoon dragged. By the time she arrived at the commissioners’ offices, she was strung tight with nerves. Cade and Mariah pulled in behind her and the three walked in together, taking a seat on the bench just behind the tables.

  Within a few moments, Jim Meyers entered the room. He sat on the opposite side of the aisle, in the same row.

  Cynthia kept glancing at her watch.

  “What’s keeping Zach?” she whispered to Mariah.

  “Cade says he’ll be here, don’t worry,” Mariah whispered back.

  The door to the commissioners’ chambers opened and the three men and Hazel filed in. All of them greeted Mariah, asking her how things were at the café.

  Just as the commissioners were taking seats and opening files, the door at the rear of the room opened. Cynthia twisted to look behind her and saw Zach holding the door to let two women enter the room ahead of him.

  One was a stranger, a young woman with center-parted, straight black hair that fell to her hips in a shining ebony fall. Black kohl eyeliner accented eyes that were a deep turquoise; her skin was so fair it seemed almost white, and scarlet lipstick accented her full lips. She was dressed all in black and when she turned her head to say something to Zach, her hair swung back over her shoulder, revealing multiple gold studs and hoop earrings along the rim of her ear. A smocked top fell to mid-thigh over black leggings and black leather boots reached almost to her knees.

  She looked as alien as if a spaceship had dropped her onto Indian Springs’s Main Street.

  And when Zach bent his head to listen to her, the intimacy between the two was obvious. A sharp, suffocating pain caught Cynthia and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

  Then the woman stepped away from Zach and walked down the aisle. For the first time, Cynthia looked at the other woman and realized it was Natasha.

  Zach followed the two women down the aisle, setting Cynthia’s laptop and external drive on the small table in front. The younger woman pulled out a chair and sat at the table, while Zach ushered Natasha to a seat next to Cynthia.

  Their eyes met, caught, and he winked before turning away to the table.

  Cynthia drew a deep, shuddering breath, reassured by his glance. Before she could ask her mother what was happening, however, the commissioner rapped the gavel.

  Cynthia heard the soft sound of the exit door opening and closing, the sound nearly covered by the gavel. She glanced over her shoulder to see a sheriff’s deputy had entered and now sat in the last bench before the exit.

  “Mr. Coulter,” the commissioner said.

  Cynthia faced front once again, riveted by the unfolding drama.

  “It appears you may have some information to present to the commission?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do.” Zach stood. “I believe I’ve solved the mystery as to how preliminary documents, which were never more than one of many possibilities for the Lodge’s future and never intended for the Lodge to pursue, were stolen from Cynthia Deacon’s computer.” He turned to the black-haired woman. “This is my assistant, Angela Freewater. She’s a computer expert, and I asked her to run some tests on Ms. Deacon’s computer and external hard drive where she backs up all her work. I believe you’ll find her comments interesting.”

  Angela stood as Zach sat. In a smooth, laconic drawl, she gave the enthralled listeners a ten-minute lesson on tracking cyber crime. Then she explained how she’d accessed Cynthia’s computer and backup drive, run scans that traced the accessing of both, and identified the hacker who’d done it.

  “And who was it?” Zach asked.

  “The hacker’s name is Jim Meyers.”

  Across the aisle from Cynthia, Meyers shot to his feet. “That’s a lie,” he blustered. “It’s impossible for anyone to do what she says she did. I’m being set up.”

  “It’s not impossible when the hacker is an amateur who uses his own laptop to hook up to an external drive,” Angela said with barely a hint of contempt. “And his laptop leaves fingerprints any ten-year-old computer geek can read, trace and identify.”

  Meyers’s face turned red and he looked apoplectic.

  Zach stood once more and Angela took her seat.

  “We also have a witness who can corroborate that Meyers had access to Cynthia’s house where she kept the backup hard drive, and that he had sufficient time to download the information.”

  He turned, gesturing to Natasha, who stood.

  Cynthia had never seen her mother so angry. Her eyes shot sparks as she glared across the aisle at Meyers.

  “I can verify that Mr. Meyers had access to our house—and that he abused our trust and apparently, is little better than a cheat and a scoundrel,” she said dramatically.

  Cynthia had never before been
glad her mother was a drama queen but for this moment, she was profoundly thankful.

  The commissioners were clearly impressed—even the lone woman, Hazel, nodded and looked at Jim Meyers as if he’d just crawled out from under a rock.

  “Thank you, Natasha,” Zach said, stepping back to take her arm and seat her once again, his solicitous gesture earned him a regal nod.

  Cynthia caught the swift glance he shot her, and saw the amused gleam in his green eyes.

  “I think that unravels the tangled threads,” Zach told the commissioners. “Except for one final thing.” He gestured over his shoulder. “I’ve filed a formal complaint with the sheriff’s office and a deputy is here to arrest Mr. Meyers for theft. I’m also consulting with my attorneys as to possible civil action to sue Mr. Meyers for conspiracy to damage the reputation of Ms. Deacon and the financial standing of the Lodge.”

  “Now, look here,” Meyers said, his voice loud, his face growing even redder. “This is ridiculous. I haven’t done anything illegal.”

  “That’s up to the judge to decide, Meyers,” Zach shot back.

  The deputy led Meyers away in handcuffs, the door closing on his shouts of protest.

  “I believe that concludes our business,” Bill the commissioner announced. “Mr. Coulter, your permit to operate is no longer suspended. I hope you’ll invite us all to your opening.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you aren’t there,” Zach reassured him.

  “Glad to hear it. We stand adjourned.” The sound of the gavel hitting the table was loud.

  Everyone stood, milling about as the commissioners exited.

  Cynthia turned to her mother. “Natasha, thank you for coming down here today.”

  “Not a problem,” her mother assured her, still clearly incensed. “Can you imagine that worm of a man, leaving my bed to go sneak into your room and hack into your computer?”

  Cynthia blinked. “You were sleeping with him?”

  “Only a few times.” Natasha waved her hand dismissively. “He wasn’t impressive.”

  Cynthia looked over her shoulder and realized Zach had heard every word of their conversation. She closed her eyes, wincing, but when she quickly opened them, he was grinning at her.

  “We’re all going out to dinner,” Cade said behind her. “How about the Black Bear Restaurant?”

  “That sounds great.” Zach sidestepped Natasha, wrapped his arm around Cynthia’s waist, and with smooth precision, extricated her from the group. “We’ll meet you there,” he called over his shoulder as he hustled Cynthia out into the hall.

  “Where are we…” She stopped talking when Zach pushed open an exit door and pulled her into a stairwell. Alone in the silent enclosed area, he backed her against the wall and kissed her.

  His mouth was impatient, eager, his body pinning her against the wall and holding her there with gentle force. Cynthia welcomed the hard crush of his arms and the demand of his mouth on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. When at last he lifted his head, she was breathless and aroused.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Angela could find out what happened to my computer?” she demanded, tugging on his hair.

  “Ow.” He winced. “Because I wasn’t absolutely sure she could when I sent J.T. in to get it.”

  “How did she do it so fast?”

  “I hooked the external drive up to your laptop, hooked the laptop up to the internet, and gave Angela your passwords. She did it all through cyberspace.”

  “Wow.” Cynthia was impressed. “She really is a computer genius, isn’t she?”

  “That she is,” Zach agreed, sliding his hands beneath her knit top to stroke her midriff. “How hungry are you?” he muttered moments later, after both of them were breathing too fast, their lips damp from the kiss just ended.

  “I’m hungrier for you than I am for food,” Cynthia murmured, brushing her lips over the underside of his chin.

  “Good,” he managed to say, his voice rasping. “Let’s go home.”

  “Home?” She leaned back to look up at him. “My place or yours?”

  “My place— I’d choose your place since it’s so much closer, but your mother might come home and interrupt us. And I don’t plan to let you go until morning.”

  She smiled, a slow curving of her lips that she was sure gave away how much she was looking forward to spending the night with him.

  “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” she murmured.

  She felt his muscles go taut, his arms tightening around her and his gaze searched hers.

  “No.” His voice was gravelly, rough with emotion. “You haven’t. And I need to hear you say it again.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, tears welling to roll slowly down her cheeks.

  “When did you know?” he asked, the pad of his thumb smoothing over her cheek, gently brushing away the dampness.

  “I think I knew for sure when Jim Meyers said I’d given him information to harm the Lodge. I was devastated that you would think I’d betray you.” She searched his eyes. “I would never do anything to harm you, Zach.”

  “I know.” He bent to trace her trembling lips with his. “I was mad as hell, but it took about ten minutes to realize there’s no way you could have done what he claimed you did. That’s when I realized I was in love with you.”

  “Thank goodness,” she breathed. “I was so afraid you’d go back to San Francisco and leave me here alone. It’s scary to love someone this much—you could break my heart.”

  “Not tonight,” he whispered back. “Not ever.”

  “I love you lots.” She smiled against his throat when she felt his pulse jump.

  “Not as much as I love you,” he growled, his voice rumbling in his chest.

  “Is this a contest?” she asked.

  “No, but if it is, we’re both going to win,” he said gravely, his green gaze meeting hers with sober intent. “Let’s go home so I can propose in a place that has a bed nearby.”

  Cynthia felt her eyes widen. “You’re going to propose?” she murmured, her voice faint.

  “I was thinking about it. Think you’ll say yes?” he asked.

  “Oh, I think that’s a definite possibility,” she replied.

  Zach’s eyes flared with green fire and as his mouth covered hers, Cynthia hazily realized that she held everything she’d waited for, for so long, here in his arms.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0198-9

  THE VIRGIN AND ZACH COULTER

  Copyright © 2011 by Lois Faye Dyer

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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