Pride of a Hunter

by Sylvie Kurtz

  Jill cheered Jeff on, even though he was just stand ing on the field, pushing up his glasses and watching the ball roll by. “A couple of weeks ago.”

  “So, tell me more.” Luci kept her voice light, curious and panic free, even though the panic was digging needles in her chest.

  “He’s a dream. A real gentleman. He’s a private investigator. Isn’t that just so fascinating? You should see his office. It’s right on Main Street in Nashua, and he has it fixed up like a movie set.”

  The better to play you with, Jilly. What was she going to do? If she tried telling Jill she was being conned, Jill would simply turn on her and accuse Luci of jealousy. “So I get to meet him tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Mom and Dad’ll be there, too.”

  Great, just what Luci needed—more criticism.

  “Warren’s going to grill some hamburgers for the kids, then he’ll make some salmon steaks for the adults.”

  Oh, no, he was using downright dirty tactics to worm his way into Jill’s heart. A man who could cook. Jill’s soft spot. He was showing her he could take care of her every need. “Can I bring anything?”

  Jill’s nose wrinkled up in a cute, sassy way, as if she’d expected Luci’s offer all along. “How about one of your apple tortes? Warren loves apples.”

  Luci cleared her throat at the sickening display of gush. With any luck, Warren’s next apple pie would come courtesy of the corrections system. “Okay, sure.”

  Brendan kicked the ball straight at his cousin, giving him a chance to get into the play.

  Jeff aimed his foot at the ball, managed to clip it with the side of his cleat and fell down hard on his backside. The referee blew the whistle. The coach trotted onto the field and helped Jeff up. The crowd clapped. Once on the sideline, Jeff made a beeline for his mother.

  “I fell down.” Jeff sniffled and held up his arms. Jill, who’d jumped up when Jeff fell, crouched down to his eye level and let her son wrap his grubby arms around her pale pink cashmere sweater.

  “I saw that.”

  “Brendan passed the ball to me, and—” Jeff hiccuped.

  “And I saw you kick it right back to him. That was a good play. Way to be a team player!”

  Jeff pulled away from Jill, smearing dirt on the collar of her sweater, and beamed. “Yeah. I made a play.”

  Jill pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at Jeff’s grass-stained knee. “You’re having fun, right?”

  He nodded. Jill kissed his cheek, leaving behind the red imprint of her lipstick. “Well, that’s all that matters.”

  She patted his bottom and urged him back toward his team.

  “So what else do you know about this guy?” Luci asked and tried very hard to sound as if the answer didn’t matter. “What’s his name again? I mean, it seems like he came out of nowhere.”

  “It wasn’t nowhere.” Soiled handkerchief held between two fingers, Jill swiveled her head looking for a place to dispose of the offending square of material. “I told you. I met Warren at the club. I ran into him when I was late for a meeting, then Amber Fitzgerald introduced us. You know her. She runs the fitness center on Marketplace Road.”

  “Amber isn’t exactly known for her stellar taste.” She reminded Luci of a little drab brown mouse.

  Jill pinched her lips, as if she were holding back a comment, then said, “Warren moved here last month from Florida, if you must know. The last hurricane tore down his office and he decided to move up north instead of rebuilding.”

  “He might regret that come January,” Luci muttered. More likely he wouldn’t even be here, if Dom was right. He’d be long gone with all of Jill’s assets. God, Luci didn’t want Dom to be right. How would Jill support her son? How would she get over another betrayal? Luci wanted everything to stay as it was, even if it meant she’d always be banned from the country club dining room and sniggered at by the other moms. At least everyone she loved would remain safe.

  “Well, that’s why we have airplanes,” Jill said. “We can vacation somewhere warm.”

  Already Jill saw herself and Warren as a couple. Not good. The guy was moving fast. Another sign of a con man. Dazzle and disappear before the stars in the mark’s eyes faded and she quite knew what had happened to her.

  Jill stalked to the green garbage barrel by the parking lot and dumped her linen handkerchief.

  That’s when Luci noticed the truck. Big, bold and Aggie burgundy. Obviously, her days as a sniper hyper-aware of her surroundings were long gone if she’d managed to miss a truck like that following her.

  Luci tried her best to ignore Dom and his truck with its smoked glass, but her gaze kept drifting to the parking lot. Every sight of him would remind her of danger, of death, of everything she thought she’d left behind after Cole had died. Risk was no longer part of the equation of her life. She didn’t want it back.

  But there was no point pretending Warren hadn’t already established a toehold in Jill’s life. The trick was making sure he didn’t get the rest of the foot in. She still had a few contacts. She’d verify what Dom had told her and make sure Jill wasn’t hurt.

  “I know how much J.J. hurt you when he left,” Luci said once Jill had returned. “You wouldn’t mind if I ran a background check on Warren, would you?”

  “Oh, no.” Jill shook a finger at her. “You are going to leave Warren alone. He’s a good man, and I don’t want you ruining this for me. What is it with you anyway? Why can’t you ever be happy for me?”

  “Of course I’m happy for you, Jill. But you’re my little sister, and I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

  “Warren would never hurt me.” Jill’s face turned soft and besotted again. “He cares for me. He takes care of me. He gave me this.”

  Jill plucked a small gold chain from under her sweater. A thumbnail-size diamond glittered in the afternoon sun, nearly blinding Luci with its brilliance. “He says it reminds him of my smile.”

  Cubic zirconium, no doubt. “It’s, um, pretty.”

  “It’s beautiful, and I’d love it even if it was paste.”

  Oh, God, Jill was in deep already. Warren was giving her gifts, gaining her confidence. How soon before he started asking her for money?

  Jill lifted her chin and wrinkled her nose in that cute way she did when she was trying to hold back a smile. “Did you know you should check your credit report every year? You know, in case someone has bad information or is trying to steal your identity.”

  “Really?” No, no, no, Jilly, you didn’t fall for that, did you? Now he has all your financial information at his fingertips. The better to rob you blind with.

  “Yes, and everything’s just fine.”

  Of course it was. If it wasn’t, Warren would have moved on to fatter prey. Luci glanced at Dom’s truck and cursed him for plopping this mess in her lap.

  Jill craned her neck in the direction of Luci’s preoccupation. “Who’s that?”

  “Who’s who?”

  “The guy in the burgundy truck.”

  “An old friend.” Luci had given up hunting a long time ago. But she couldn’t just stand by and watch her sister be used and tossed aside. She had to do something. “He came to town unexpectedly.”

  “What kind of old friend?”

  “Just a friend, Jill.” At her sister’s pout, Luci softened her tone. “Can I bring him to dinner on Saturday?”

  Jill smirked. “But of course, Lucinda Louise. It’s about time you found yourself a boyfriend.”

  “He’s not a boyfriend. Just a friend.”

  “Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Bring him.” From the middle of the field a whistle shrilled and a thunder of cheers rose. “Looks like the game’s over. Meet you at The Leaning Pizza?”

  “Can you take Brendan for me? I’ll meet you later.”

  “Sure, take your time.” Jill glanced at Dom’s truck and slanted Luci a knowing smile. “If you’re not there by the time we’re ready to leave, I’ll just take Brendan home with us.”

 
“That won’t be necessary.”

  Jill brushed at the dog hair decorating the front of Luci’s sweatshirt. “Luci, you have to loosen up a bit.”

  Luci pantomimed a stringless puppet. “I’m so loose I can’t keep track of time.”

  “Not that kind of loose.” Jill tilted her head to one side, meeting Luci’s gaze. “You need friends. You need fun. You need—” she leaned forward, cupped a hand around her mouth and whispered “—sex.”

  The sizzling sound of the word kicked Luci’s midriff with an almost forgotten punch. “That is not the answer to everything.”

  Especially not with Dom. He knew too much about her. He’d seen the black mark on her soul. He’d once been a friend. But he could never be a lover. And Luci certainly hoped Jill’s relationship with Warren The Worm hadn’t progressed to that intimate stage.

  Jill waggled her eyebrows. “But it sure makes everything rosy.”

  Luci barely managed to swallow her groan. So much for that hope. Warren had obviously wowed Jill in bed, too.

  Jeff and Brendan pounded their way toward their parent. Each grabbed one of Jill’s hands and started dragging her toward her Lexus SUV. “Come on, Mom.”

  “Come on, Auntie Jill. It’s pizza time!” The DVD player was the big pull for Brendan wanting to ride with his aunt to the post-game party.

  Jill pretended helpless worry at her captors’ strength. Head thrown back, laughing, she let the boys lead her away. “Guess I’d better go. Take your time.”

  “Come on, Mom,” Brendan called over his shoulder.

  “I’ll be there in a bit. Be good for Aunt Jill.”

  Jill’s retort was lost in the confusion of little boy rambunctiousness.

  Dragging her uncooperative folding chair behind her, Luci reluctantly made her way to Dom’s truck at the edge of the now near empty parking lot and rapped her knuckles against the passenger’s side window. The tinted glass wound down silently and smoothly.

  Her heart rate doubled as his face appeared. The soft blue of his eyes was filled with compassion, as if he truly understood the depth of the wound on her soul and the toll his presence was taking on her. He’d loved Cole, too, and Cole was the one thing they could never discuss if they were to make it through until Jill’s predator was behind bars. “We need to talk.”

  DOM REACHED ACROSS the truck’s cab for the passenger door handle, but Luci clamped a hand around the door and held it firmly in place. She stood there, not saying anything, the wide yawn of the years gaping black and empty between them, a burned-out territory neither of them wanted to revisit. Too much guilt. Too much regret. Too much helplessness.

  “Luci—”

  “Show me everything you have on this guy who’s preying on Jill.” Luci’s green eyes were scowling slits. Spikes of ripe wheat hair stuck out from the long braid twisting over her shoulder. He couldn’t decide if the redness of her cheeks was due to the coolness of the breeze or the heat of her anger.

  “Most of my files are back at the office.”

  “Talk then. That’s your specialty, isn’t it?”

  The negotiator was always the man in the middle, and that seemed to have been Dom’s position from Day One. He was the middle child, the go-between for his parents and his brothers. The third wheel between Luci and Cole.

  And now he was the outsider who was coming between two sisters.

  “I’ll talk, Luce. Question is, are you ready to listen?”

  Her lips tightened into a straight, hard line. “He conned Jill into giving him the information he needed to run a credit check on her.”

  Dom didn’t like seeing a thin shell of the bright, vibrant woman he’d once known. “He’s moving faster than usual.”

  Swanson had already gained his mark’s confidence and was stepping up to the next stage. Soon he’d start asking for money. A bit here to tide him over while he waited for a check to come in. A bit there while he waited for a client to pay a bill. And Jill, flush with the soft and fuzzy blanket of new love, would gladly fork it over.

  “Usual?” Luci asked, frowning as if she had a headache. “How many times has he done this?”

  “I’ve managed to track down four. Jill is number five.”

  Luci closed her eyes and swallowed hard. How much was it costing her to hold herself together? The years had deepened the lines of sorrow around her eyes, but hadn’t diminished her beauty. Something about the softness of her features, the fullness of her lips, the grounding green of her eyes made him want to sigh, snuggle close and surrender. His chest filled with a constricting ache he dispatched with a cough.

  “Jill’s a sweet girl, you know.” Luci picked at the weather stripping of the window. Once, saving the in nocent had been as much a part of Luci’s mission in life as it was his. But this situation and his presence here kicked Cole and his death square into the present and punted pain deep into her soft green eyes.

  “That just makes it easier for him.”

  Luci nodded, a resignation. “Walk me through what he’s done.”

  Dom didn’t like to see defeat weigh her down like this. She’d already suffered so much. He wanted to make this as easy for her as possible, but wasn’t sure how when she’d made it so clear there was no room for him in her life and never would be. He pushed the door on the passenger’s side open. This time, she let him. “Sit a spell, Luce.”

  She hesitated, then climbed into the cab, folding her long legs as far away from him as she could. Her knees pressed close together. Her hands cupped the worn-down white ovals on the knees of her jeans. Her gaze centered on her lap, as if even looking at him was unbearable. How often had he dreamed of those legs, of that hair, of her? She smelled of peppermint and something else, rosemary, maybe. He forced himself to lean away into the window rather than forward to sniff at the intriguing scent and the complex knot of emotion she tied in him.

  “I need to get back to my son soon. Just give me the Cliff’s Notes on this guy.” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “You have half an hour.”

  Chapter Three

  Dom reached back and pulled an envelope from behind his seat. He shuffled photographs, then handed her the top picture. The air in the cab had grown unbearably warm. Luci dragged her sweaty palms over the thighs of her jeans before she accepted the first bit of concrete proof that Jill was in danger.

  “The first victim was Katheryn Chamber, twenty-six, from Seattle, Washington,” Dom said, the rhythm of his voice soothing in spite of the harsh nature of his subject. “She was a dot-com millionaire, divorced with a seven-year-old son. Her blond husband went by the name of Wade Bilski and passed himself off as a U.S. Marshal. She met him on a day cruise to Canada and married him within a month. A month later, he left her with nothing, except her house and the stock that was in her son’s name.”

  Dom plucked a second photograph from the pile and slid it across the seat. “The second victim was Sharlene Vardeman, twenty-nine, from San Diego, California. The bulk of her wealth came from the division of assets after her divorce from a Napa Valley winery heir. She also had a seven-year-old son. She met Wesley Ripp at a naval hospital charity function and married him within a few weeks. Her bald Navy SEAL left her before the end of the honeymoon. All she had left was her house, her son and whatever investments she’d had in her son’s name.”

  A third photo arrived in her hands. She fumbled the pass with fingers that suddenly seemed too thick to move.

  Dom cleared his throat. “Victim number three was Carissa Esslinger, twenty-seven, from Portland, Oregon. She inherited her wealth and managed to keep most of it after her divorce. She also had full custody of her seven-year-old son. Wayne Edgeman, her redheaded SWAT officer, pulled her out of her crushed car after a traffic accident while he was off-duty. Three weeks later, they were married. Five days later, he was gone and so were her savings and investments, except for those in her son’s name.”

  Dom passed over a fourth picture. It weighed down her palm as if it were made of lead.
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  “Laynie McDaniels, twenty-nine, victim number four, had the misfortune to bump into Willis Morehouse at one of her parents’ parties,” Dom continued. “He was a visiting guest brought along by an invited guest. The border agent with his black hair and dark eyes swept her off her feet while they danced. The oil heiress gave him everything he wanted, except what was in her seven-year-old son’s name. When he left her, hours after their return from their honeymoon, she chased him down and ended up dead.”

  Victim number five was Jill. And Luci already had a feeling where that story was heading. “Laynie McDaniels was the first woman to die after being scammed.”

  “We’re floating around two theories about her death,” Dom said, all business, as if they were back in a briefing room. That’s what she’d wanted wasn’t it? To keep this whole situation on a professional level?

  “One,” he continued, “is that she feared her parents’ reaction to the squandering of her wealth and she ended her life rather than deal with the shame. Because the medical examiner’s findings were inconclusive, the cops investigating the case felt the evidence pointed in that direction. The second theory is that she found her husband in the motel room where a maid discovered her hanging body and that he killed her.”

  “You told me she was killed, so you’re siding with theory number two. Any evidence?”

  Dom shook his head, his jaw tightening with frustration. “None that would impress a jury beyond a reasonable doubt. If Swanson was there that night, he did a good job cleaning up after himself.”

  “What about forensics at the scene?”

  “An empty bottle of water in the wastebasket with Laynie’s prints on it. At least a dozen unknown fingerprints. A common, everyday shirt button that could have belonged to any of the room’s previous occupants.”

  “Who booked the room?” Luci asked, her mind trying to go back to a time when this kind of questioning was second nature.

  “The registration was in another woman’s name. Paid in cash.”