He responded with a soft chuckle. “That’s why I brushed my teeth before coming back in here.”
A chuckle and words that came not from behind her but in front. She opened her eyes and saw him crouching next to the bed, wearing jeans and that sexy grin and holding a cup of coffee. Just then the breath behind her warmed her ear, and then a long tongue swiped across her cheek. She shrieked and tried to roll away, but the sheet trapped her. As she threw her arms over her head for protection, Frank planted one huge paw on each side of her and grinned down at her.
Ty’s chuckle became a hearty laugh. “Frank, come on, buddy, get down. No kissing the pretty lady unless she asks you to, got it?”
His body brushed hers as he leaned across to give the dog a shove, and then he pulled her arms away from her head. “Don’t mind him. He’s just spoiled. He’s never had to share the bed with anyone besides me.”
Pushing a handful of curls from her face, Nev slid to lean against the headboard and wondered how wild her hair looked. She usually slept with a scarf to keep it from tangling too badly, but how romantic was a head scarf when you were having incredible sex with the wickedest man in the world? “So you usually spend the night at your girlfriends’ places?”
“There haven’t been that many, darlin’, but yeah, I preferred to stay over. Besides, Frank wouldn’t have let Kiki in the door. If she’d tried to sleep in his bed, he would have dragged her out to the river and dropped her in.”
Nev smiled, even though it hurt her cheek, even though her side and her knee were throbbing and she had a few new aches, because she simply couldn’t not smile. “Aw, the baby has excellent taste.”
Setting the coffee on the table beside her, Ty pulled on the polo shirt he’d left on the chaise, that eye-catching yellow that was part of his uniform. He tucked it in, adjusted his belt tightly and then double-checked the security of the weapon on his hip and the badge next to the belt buckle. “I have to take off for work. Your cell phone’s next to the coffee. I added a few more numbers, including Granddad’s, in case you have trouble getting hold of me. I don’t want you going anywhere today, okay? Stay here, rest, keep the doors locked. Just give it one more day, will you?”
Nev had zero desire to sit in the motel room all day by herself, but Ty’s house was a totally different prospect. She could luxuriate the whole day in his personal space, surrounded by things that meant something to him, including Frank, and waiting for him to return home after work. “Okay.”
He gave her a look that said he’d expected her to argue, but she shrugged with total innocence. “I’m not always stubborn, and I’ll certainly never be that woman in books or on TV that you scream ‘Don’t go down there!’ at but she goes anyway. I don’t like getting hurt. Last night showed me that.” She carefully touched the scrape on her cheek, and his expression darkened.
“I’ll try to come by at lunchtime. If I don’t make it, the refrigerator and microwave are yours.” Bending beside the bed, he caught her chin. “If you need anything at all, call me. Even if it’s just a voice other than Frank’s. You got it?”
Her response was garbled by the kiss he gave her. Fluttering, curling, searing, demanding, giving, robbing her of air and replacing it with need, and ending way too soon. She couldn’t even catch her breath enough to say goodbye as he walked out of the room. When the dazed feeling cleared her brain a few minutes later, she glanced at Frank, curled up on Ty’s pillow and watching her.
“And you get to live with the man. You are the luckiest dog in the entire world.”
She swore he grinned smugly in response.
* * *
It was after ten when Ty caught up with Kiki at the courthouse. She and Lieutenant Maricci had been in court, so both were out of uniform, Maricci wearing a suit and tie, Kiki in a slightly more feminine version with a skirt instead of pants. It might have been the first time Ty had seen her in a skirt. Maybe she’d noticed Nev’s preference for showing her legs and Ty’s preference for seeing them?
“Why aren’t you out catching bad guys, Detective?” Maricci asked.
“I’ve caught them all, sir.”
“Yeah, but the judges inside are putting them back out on the street as fast as you do. I heard your friend got mugged last night. How is she?”
“Okay. A few scrapes and aches.” Ty shifted his gaze to Kiki. “You learn anything new?”
Kiki slid dark glasses on, though they stood in the shade of an oak. “I talked to the maid who left early. The baby did look sick. Green snot running down its face. Kept walking over and looking up at me like I was going to pick it up.”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening, Ty thought. She would rather have Frank snarl at her than touch a drooling baby. “Did she know anything about the break-in at the room?”
“Says she didn’t, but I don’t know. She acted scared, and her English wasn’t very good, or so she said. Maybe she’s here illegally. She’s got a boyfriend, the baby daddy. She wanted me to come back and talk to him—said his English was better. Said she’d call me when he came in.”
Ty had to agree with Kiki’s eye-roll. If the maid’s immigration status was questionable or if she was involved in the break-in in any way, that call never would come, and the only thing to greet Kiki the next time she went over would be an empty apartment.
Kiki removed her jacket and adjusted the shoulder holster that contrasted against her white shirt. “The girl could have let someone into the room, or she could have given her key to someone. If I had to clean up other people’s messes every day, it wouldn’t take more than forty or fifty bucks for me to rent the key out. But like I said yesterday, I’m not convinced that Wilson didn’t do it herself.”
“You think she mugged herself, too?” Ty’s voice came out sharper than he’d intended, a fact noticed by the lieutenant.
Heaving an impatient sigh, Kiki rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Besides, we have a witness to that. Look, she says she has no enemies, no ex-boyfriends, no disgruntled employees or clients, nothing. According to her, life is all sweetness and light until she came here, and then boom. Her car gets vandalized, her room’s broken into, they leave threatening notes and she gets mugged. She refuses to give up her purse, doesn’t even try to get a look at the guy and gives a crappy description that could fit practically anybody, including all three of us.”
Grinding his back teeth together, Ty leaned against the tree trunk and wished he was home, enjoying a day off with Nev instead of listening to complaints about what a bad victim she was. They would be kicked back on the porch with the ceiling fan going, a little blues in the air and a couple of cold beers. Though he’d bet Miss Nicey-Nice didn’t drink beer. That was okay. He liked sweetness and light.
“Give her a break, Isaacs,” Maricci said. “She’s new at being attacked. She reacted instinctively. Besides, how many witnesses give crappy descriptions? What about the guy who stopped it? Was his any better?”
“No.” The word came out grudgingly. Kiki never liked having to admit she might be biased or wrong. “Tall, thin, dark hoodie, jeans, running shoes.”
“It’s a fair bet the car vandalism was a coincidence.” Maricci pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and then removed the jacket and loosened his tie. He wasn’t even as much of a dress-up guy as Ty was, and it was too damn hot for multiple layers and long sleeves. “We know that was the Holigan boys, and they didn’t single her out. So what are the odds, then, that the break-in, the threats and the mugging are all just coincidences, too?”
“Let me call Robinson, the freak-geek at the lab,” Kiki said scathingly. “She can probably tell you right off the top of her head.”
The muscles in Ty’s jaw clenched, and he saw a corresponding muscle in the lieutenant’s jaw twitch. Maricci hadn’t hired Kiki—the chief of detectives before him had—but he’d done his best to be fair to her. Sometimes it too
k a lot of effort.
“If you believe Nevaeh Wilson was mugged,” Maricci went on, “you pretty much have to believe that she was threatened, too. Otherwise, you got a mighty big coincidence, and I always say—”
The three of them finished in chorus. “There’s no such thing as coincidences.”
“So get back to work. Figure out who’s behind this and why. The chief and the mayor don’t like having tourists to our quiet little town become victims of violent crime. Now, the Maricci men are having lunch at the nursing home, and we’d like to not be disturbed. The little guy’s cutting teeth, and he really doesn’t want to be disturbed. You guys are on your own for a while.”
Ty watched Maricci cross the street midblock and head for the white luxury SUV, a drug case forfeiture, that was his police vehicle. Then he pushed away from the tree and walked alongside Kiki toward the station.
“She at your place?” she asked after a moment.
“Yeah.” He didn’t glance at her, didn’t want to see how she took that piece of news.
After a moment, she said, “I’ll have patrol make a few passes by there.”
“I appreciate it.”
When they reached the police station, she stopped. “You’re serious about her.”
It wasn’t a question, but Ty answered it. “Yeah.”
“You’ll get bored with her.”
“I don’t think so.”
She smiled thinly. “You never got bored with me.”
“No.” Angry, frustrated, annoyed, irritated, but never bored. He’d also had some good times, but they’d gotten lost in all the drama. He didn’t want to live with drama for the rest of his life.
In an effort to lighten the mood, he said, “You and Benton—you got something going on there?”
“Eh.” She lifted one shoulder. “He’s got potential, but he’s not you.”
“When I was his age, I wasn’t me, either. He’s got some growing to do.”
She changed the subject back. “She’s going back to Atlanta. Her family’s there. Her friends. Her roots.”
“Maybe.” Maybe Nev would decide to stay in Copper Lake if he gave her a reason. Maybe he would go to Atlanta if Copper Lake couldn’t hold her.
“She’ll go,” Kiki said confidently as she turned toward the parking lot, “and I’ll still be here. Remember that.”
There was a time when Ty would have appreciated her words. No matter how turbulent things got between them, they each knew the storm would pass and they would be together again. They’d fought and made up, broken up and reconciled. It was the pattern of their relationship, at least until the past spring.
She’d begun talking about marriage. He, who’d known his whole life that he would marry and have lots of kids, couldn’t fit Kiki into that family picture. He thought about a lifetime of fighting and making up, of chaos and drama. He thought about his grandfather, all his aunts and uncles and cousins, not one of whom liked Kiki, not one of whom she liked. Any kids they had together would be denied the close, loving extended family that had helped raise him. Their mother would see to that. And her own family was neither close nor loving.
So he had ended the relationship. Told her they weren’t good for each other. Told her to find someone who appreciated her the way she deserved. She’d argued—usual. Told him to get out and never come back—usual. Threw the stuff he’d kept at her apartment out the door behind him—also usual.
Then she’d calmly, rationally told one of his buddies that a person in a relationship couldn’t just walk away if the other person didn’t want it to end. That Ty had commitment issues and she was going to get him past them.
At the time, he couldn’t have blamed her for thinking they were still in the pattern. He’d always come back. Of course she expected him to this time. A week later she was dating other guys, and eventually he’d begun to think she’d finally accepted that it was over, until she made comments like that. I’ll still be here.
He’d never had commitment issues. He’d just never wanted to commit to Kiki or anyone else until he’d met Nev. As surely as he’d known that Kiki wasn’t meant to be a permanent part of his life, he knew Nev was.
* * *
The first time Frank sounded his deep, tail-rattling bark, Nev practically jumped out of her skin, only to peer out the blinds and see the mailman driving past. The second time, she startled and dropped the square of buttered corn bread she’d fixed for breakfast on the floor because two little boys were riding their bikes down the street. Frank cleaned up every crumb.
The third time he’d alerted her to a flock of birds flying overhead and the fourth to the baying of the beagle down the street.
“Ty doesn’t need an alarm,” she muttered to the dog. “He’s got Black Dog Early Warning System keeping watch on the place.”
Frank’s tongue swiped an errant crumb of corn bread before he climbed into the chair across from her and went to sleep. He could do it that quickly—head down, eyes closed, snores soon following. She was envious as she pointed the remote toward the television and switched channels.
When a knock sounded at the door a moment later, she dropped the remote, gave a little shriek and wondered wildly where the best place to hide was. The house was small, the closets even smaller. There was no way—
Then she looked at Frank, yawning, stretching his legs one at a time before trotting to the door to greet the visitor. He hadn’t alerted because he knew the person, she realized. It was probably Mr. Obadiah.
Willing her nerves to settle, she hurried to the door and peeked out. She was right that Frank knew the visitor, wrong about who it was. Anamaria Duquesne Calloway stood there, two paper bags in hand.
Nev undid the lock, grabbed Frank by the collar to make sure he didn’t lunge and then opened the door. “Good morning.”
Anamaria glanced at the sun. “For a few more minutes. I know Ty’s busy, and I know what a state his kitchen is in, so I thought you might like some lunch and company.”
“That’s so sweet of you. Did he call you?”
“No.” Keeping the bags safely out of reach, Anamaria bent toward the dog. “You can let go of the puppy. He and I are old friends. Hey, pretty boy. Yes, I brought a treat for you, too. Inside or out?”
It took Nev a moment to realize the question was directed to her and not Frank. It was a warm, humid day, but the porch was shaded and the fan overhead would add to the nice breeze drifting from the river.
And the screen provided some bit of camouflage, the coward in her pointed out.
“Out here would be wonderful. What do I need to get? Dishes, napkins, silverware, drinks?”
“I’ve got everything I need except a companion.” Anamaria carried the bags to the chairs pushed to one side and took one, sitting gracefully, regally.
She was more beautiful, more radiant and had more presence than anyone Nev had ever known, and it all came to her with a natural ease. Nev should feel awkward being in her company—sure, she was dressed but barefooted, her scraped knee was scabbing over and her cheek had an ugly smudge mark—but she couldn’t find a bit of unease as she sat in the other chair.
The smells coming from the bag Anamaria opened were enough to make Nev’s mouth water: greasy fat cheeseburgers with onions cooked in and fries extra crispy with a heavier dose of salt. Even the ketchup smelled richer, more tomatoey, than the usual stuff. The second bag held two tall foam cups of pop, both marked Pepsi, her favorite.
Having lost her breakfast to Frank, Nev unwrapped the burger and took a big bite, finding pure beef heaven. Either her senses had sharpened incredibly, or it was the best cheeseburger she’d ever eaten. “Mmm. Oh, my. Where did you get these?”
“Sno-Cap. It’s just down from the motel you were staying at.”
After a few more bites, Nev snared a couple of Frenc
h fries, dipped them liberally in ketchup and then took a drink of pop. “You said Ty didn’t call you.”
Anamaria shook her head.
“Then how did you know...?”
Making a show of straightening in the chair, Anamaria shifted her heavy curls over her shoulder as if wrapping an aura of mystery about her. “Sister Anamaria sees all, knows all, but—” a warning finger “—she doesn’t tell all.” Then she laughed. “Truthfully, Mama Odette, my grandmother, mentioned it when we talked this morning.”
“I thought your family lived in Savannah.”
“They do. But Mama Odette talks to my mother, Glory, and then she calls me.”
That stopped Nev in the middle of a sip of pop until the fizz reminded her to swallow. Anamaria’s grandmother talked to Glory? About Nev? Glory, the mother who was dead, who had died while living in this house?
It sounded crazy, but Anamaria didn’t look crazy. She was serenely nibbling a French fry, as if she hadn’t said anything stranger than the sun is shining.
Goose bumps rose on Nev’s arms as she glanced cautiously over her shoulder. “She, um, watches over this house?”
“She watches over everything and everyone who’s important to her. Don’t worry. What happens between you and Ty stays between you and Ty.”
Nev didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t recall her dad ever having an opinion on the supernatural, or YaYa. Lima had no patience for all that hooey, as she called it, and beyond a phase of playing with Ouija boards as a teenager, Marieka was more interested in the here-and-now than the hereafter.
“It’s all right.” Anamaria crossed her legs and let one sandal dangle from her toes. The color on the nails was Caribbean Heat, the same sultry, scorching shade that Nev wore on her own. Coincidence. “You’re entitled to your skepticism. It doesn’t bother me. Has Ty told you anything about Glory?”
Skepticism? Nev considered it. More like lack of experience. She was a big believer in faith. She didn’t have to see things to know they existed. She just didn’t know enough about this to believe. “Only that this was her house and that she died while living here.”
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