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The Secret She Keeps

Page 18

by HelenKay Dimon


  She shook her head. “I was checking in. Nothing more.”

  “Your job is safe. I’m not questioning your methods, even though I could since you technically do work for me,” Jenna said.

  Ben frowned. “I didn’t realize my job was in jeopardy.”

  “What do we know about the man who was murdered?”

  Before Ben could answer Jenna, Maddie cleared her throat. “Shouldn’t we . . . I don’t know, check to see if you are who you say you are?”

  Sylvia’s eyes widened. “Maddie.”

  “I’m sorry to sound paranoid but my trust isn’t running high right now.”

  “Understandable.” Jenna nodded. “Mine either. I’m a victim of trespassing.”

  “Funny.” Connor had to give the woman credit. She didn’t shake easily. She had people coming at her from all sides and she stayed calm. He doubted she was the mystery woman and nothing about her suggested she was hiding at the house . . . her house.

  Sylvia swore under her breath. “She is Jenna Hughland. She owns the company that owns this island.” She looked around the table. “If you don’t trust her, trust me. She is who she says she is. I’ve known her for years.”

  Jenna smiled at Ben. “Now it’s your turn to share.”

  He hesitated as if a mental battle were warring in his head. Saying no to his boss would not be a wise career move. Connor could appreciate the position. If he had any information he would have offered it to take the pressure off. As it was, tension clogged the room, making it hard to do anything other than be on the defensive.

  After a few seconds of silence, Ben started talking. “Owen Pritchard was working for a woman named Daria Jones.”

  “Is that her real name?” Connor asked because no one around here seemed to be who or what they said they were.

  Maddie was the one who answered. “Yes.”

  All attention turned to her. Connor could see the answer written in the wariness on her face but he asked anyway. “You know her?”

  “She was Ned’s fiancée.”

  Ben looked at Jenna. “I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

  She waved him off. “Sylvia already has.”

  Of course she had. More secrets. Connor almost suffocated from them. “What was the part about privacy?”

  Maddie leaned closer to Ben, reaching her hand out to touch his arm. “Are you sure it’s her?”

  “Definitely. There’s a file in Owen’s office. There are checks, and phone records show constant contact over the last four months.”

  Connor waited for relief to flood him but it didn’t happen. Knowing who she was only answered one of the many questions floating out there. Still, he saw the strain on Maddie’s face and rushed to put a good spin on the new information. “That sounds like confirmation. And she would have a motive.”

  “No. That’s where you’re wrong.” Maddie leaned back in her chair and rested a hand on Connor’s knee. “She was a victim in all of this. Ned cheated on her. She lost her job and her reputation was a mess because everyone thought she was involved.”

  He winced, hating to add to her distress but not really having a choice. “Maybe she was?”

  “She supported me. She vouched for me.”

  “Okay, but she hired Pritchard specifically to find you. He’s been tracking you for months and only got a break after all the press this summer,” Ben said.

  “Someone saw me.”

  Some of Sylvia’s earlier anger vanished. Her voice softened as she talked. “We had a lot of press and photos. People were digging up residents’ pasts. It turned into a circus.”

  “But there’s a bigger clue.” Ben moved his chair closer to Maddie. “Pritchard had a copy of one of the notes in his file.”

  Her expression went blank. “What notes?”

  Connor could almost see her brain trying to process the information. She had to know what Ben referenced but reality refused to settle in and she squeezed his leg even harder.

  “The notes. To you,” Ben said in a reassuring voice. “Evan is trying to verify if the one in the file is one of those he’s seen before.”

  Any note sounded relevant to Connor. “Does that matter?”

  Ben kept his gaze on her. “It could, but now we know who we’re looking for.”

  Maddie shook her head. “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”

  The answer came to Connor and he said it before he could weigh whether he should. “Because we still don’t know who killed Pritchard and why.”

  An hour later, Maddie sat on the edge of her couch. She’d taken her coat off and kicked off her shoes. She thought about unlocking her safe and grabbing her gun. Stashing it nearby. But she didn’t have the energy.

  A mix of panic and confusion zipped through her. The memories of Daria in tears as she found out the truth about Ned three years ago. How she pleaded Maddie’s case to the prosecutor. The night they sat and drank wine, exchanging stories and trying to make sense of the way their lives had imploded because of the men that ran through them.

  She heard a clanking sound and looked up to see Connor washing their dishes from this morning. He didn’t push or pepper her with questions. He had two speeds and neither amounted to coasting. He kept busy, kept moving. He didn’t even know it was a form of running. But she did because she was an expert on running.

  She twisted her hands together on her lap, massaging her palm with the thumb of her other hand. “Maybe I should leave with Evan.”

  A mug crashed into the sink as he turned around. “What are you talking about?”

  The answer was obvious. “My past is responsible for one man’s death here on Whitaker.”

  “You didn’t do anything to the PI.”

  “Connor, come on.” She appreciated his attempt to keep things normal but they’d passed that line long ago. “I’ve been in denial, insisting the danger was over and I could live like everyone else. Worry about electric bills and argue with the news.”

  He dried his hands on a towel, then threw it on the kitchen island. “Some woman is searching for you. That’s all we know.”

  Her head grew too heavy. She dropped it in her hands and stared at the Wedgwood-blue carpet under her feet. Stared at the swirling pattern and couldn’t look away. “I can’t be responsible for any more deaths.”

  The seat cushion dipped as he sat down. “Whose death are you responsible for? You didn’t announce who you were and challenge people to find you.”

  The swirls blurred the longer she stared. “You know what I mean.”

  “Do I?”

  She lifted her head and looked at him. “The note references you. Maybe not specifically, but we know it’s you. You’re the one I’m sleeping with. You’re the only person I’ve let get close to me on Whitaker, and look what happened.”

  “I’m fine and have no complaints. The time with you . . . it’s been good.” He brushed the back of his hand against the side of her leg. The gentle touch soothed. Didn’t demand anything.

  “It’s great for us but not for Owen Pritchard.” She thought about the man she didn’t know and the end he suffered because of her. “Now there are people who know who I am and what I look like. I no longer blend in. People who come in contact with me might be in danger. Nothing about this is clear or easy.”

  Connor reached over and took her hand. Slid his fingers through hers. “We’re talking about one woman on a small island of roughly two hundred people. She’ll be noticed.”

  Reality punched into her. Days had passed, more than a week since Connor came to the island. The ferry had come and gone. Dom continued to do his job. “I haven’t been checking for people coming on and off the island.”

  “Hey, listen to me.” He covered their joined hands with his other one. “Ben is in charge. Evan, as much as I dislike him, is an expert. The owner of the island is here, and she’s pissed. This is not your job, Maddie.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m exhausted.”

  �
��Then rest.” He whispered the words against her hair, then kissed her there.

  “It’s not exactly safe to close my eyes.” But she did. There with him. Let her muscles relax and her body sink into him.

  After a few minutes of quiet, she felt him move and lifted her head. His hand slipped out of hers.

  He leaned back against the stack of pillows and opened his arms to her. “Come here.”

  The invitation sounded so good. Picking him over analyzing her options could be another form of running, but being with him, blocking out the past, was all that calmed her lately.

  “You are so comfortable.” She lay down against him, flat on his chest with her head tucked under his chin. With her arms wrapped around his waist, she inhaled, letting the tension drift away and her mind go blank.

  Falling into him was so easy. So natural.

  “And by comfortable you mean sexy.” His fingers slid through her hair before massaging the back of her neck.

  “That’s undeniable.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “I’m never going to sleep again.” But they were already closed and her breathing evened out.

  He kissed the top of her head. “You will.”

  The heat from his body lulled her. His heartbeat thumped under her ear, so reassuring and affirming. She brushed her palm over his chest, back and forth. Pure intimacy but not the sexual kind.

  She let her body melt against his. “You’re very good at cuddling.”

  He laughed and the sound rumbled under her cheek. “That kind of talk will ruin my negotiating position back home.”

  The longer they sat there, wrapped up in each other, the more the peace settled in. The connection, with him like this, made every worry and fear slip away.

  “I hate to think of you leaving here.” She hadn’t meant to say the words right then but she did mean them. She wanted him here.

  He didn’t react. His hand kept smoothing over her hair. “And I hate when you talk about disappearing forever.”

  “I told Evan I would consider getting back into the program.” After years of keeping things to herself, she wanted to share that. Not hide anything from him.

  “Don’t be a martyr.” He kissed her head again. “Go back because you’re scared for yourself and need to do it for you. No other reason.”

  “I have to think of other people.”

  “For once, think about what you need.”

  The words sank in and she opened her eyes. She needed to hear every single one. They grounded her, made her regret she ever gave Evan hope that she would do anything but stay and fight. “It’s a balance.”

  “And you’ll figure it out, but not tonight.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” She felt him smile against her hair in response.

  “Yes, we.”

  Chapter 25

  All the pieces fell into place. She’d thought she was safe but now she knew the truth. She’d gotten cocky and now her past found her.

  No more secrets. She couldn’t lie her way out of this. She had to face up to her mistakes and her failures. Make an admission because it was time.

  At least she finally looked scared. No more false bravado. About time.

  She’d lost her edge, which was good. Less lethal, less careful might finally put an end to this.

  The threats. The visits. The murder. She could no longer run or avoid. She needed to understand that her future skated on a very fine line. No more living as if the horrors of her past hadn’t happened.

  It was time for her to deal with the consequences of her bad choices.

  Chapter 26

  Something jolted Connor out of a deep sleep. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It felt like he’d been out for hours. A little after five in the morning. Nowhere near time to get up. The sun wouldn’t be up for at least another two hours.

  The dark sky and dark room blended. He could make out the shadow of her open closet across the room and the small flower-print chair in the corner.

  He inhaled, dragging the scent of her shampoo into his senses. He lay behind her with an arm draped over her and his hand on her stomach. They relaxed on the couch for a few hours, not saying anything. Just breathing and sleeping. He let the silence wrap around her and calm her jumping thoughts.

  The talk about her leaving and changing identities again had ripped through him. The response he wanted to say—fuck no—died on his lips. He tried to sound neutral and not let her see how much the idea of not seeing her again bothered him. Hell, the slicing sensation that tore into him at the thought surprised him.

  They were seeing each other. It was new and shouldn’t mean that much yet, but it did. He hated the idea of losing her before he could really know her. He hated that loss of independence even more for her.

  Wanting out didn’t mean getting out and she’d driven that realization home tonight.

  Long after they showered and she drifted off to sleep, he stared at the ceiling of the quiet room. Thinking and trying not to think at the same time.

  Life was easier when he kept his head down and sat at a desk almost all day. He hadn’t planned on her or how she would flip his life inside out. The few weeks of vacation he promised to take vanished and she became his focal point. How to help her. How to protect her. How to make her happy . . . how to stay with her.

  He listened to her soft breathing and relaxed again. Another round of tension would guarantee a night without sleep and he needed a few hours. His focus had to be on getting through the next few days. Watching over her and working with her as Daria and Evan and whoever else from her past washed up on shore.

  Minutes ticked by and he forced his eyes to close. He inhaled, trying to clear his mind. The locks on the door helped. So did Ben’s promise he’d patrol the area all night. Stay on call.

  That sucked for Ben but it was the job and he’d do it. That provided Connor with some sense of security.

  With one last kiss on her bare shoulder, he drifted. Sleep came in and out. He’d finally started to fall under when he heard the clicking. A scraping sound. The same one he realized woke him earlier.

  His eyes opened again. He concentrated on figuring out where the noise came from but he couldn’t track it. He lifted up on his elbow and strained to listen but it had stopped. Still he waited. Another few seconds and it came again, this time louder. Thanks to the silence of the small house, the scratching noise echoed off the walls.

  Maddie stirred. She reached for the comforter and pulled it up higher on her shoulder. “What’s that noise?”

  Outside. The sound originated there. Someone or something outside wanted in and Connor had no idea how close they were to being successful. The thought of that got him moving.

  He threw back the covers and dropped his feet to the floor. Scrambling, he reached for the sweatpants he abandoned earlier and gave instructions as he stood up. “Call Ben.”

  She rolled onto her back and pushed the hair out of her eyes. “What?”

  “The noise.” He had pants on and a shirt half over his head that he tugged down while mumbling the explanation to her.

  “It was probably an animal or—”

  “No guessing.” He refused to take that risk. “You heard me. Call.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Halfway around the bed, he stopped and looked at her. Even in the darkness he could see her pushing the covers away and searching the floor for her clothes.

  “I’m going to check it out.” He snapped his fingers to get her to look at him. “You aren’t.”

  “Do not even think of leaving this room without me.”

  His eyes adjusted enough to see the mix of fury and fear on her face. He hated that she had to deal with either emotion. “Get dressed and make the call.”

  “Connor!” When he glared at her she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Get back here.”

  “You heard me, Maddie.”

  He didn’t stick around to see if she’d listened. Walking as quietly as
possible, he stalked down the hall. Kept his back against the wall and stopped only long enough to grab a knife from the butcher block on the kitchen counter.

  He squinted, trying to make out any shapes in the darkness of the living room. The porch light she kept on all night wasn’t on. A second after he realized that, his gaze switched to the door. Still closed, but that didn’t mean the person wasn’t already inside.

  At the sound of footsteps behind him, he spun around. The knife waved in front of him. He was pretty sure he’d lost half his life when Maddie appeared.

  She blinked a few times. “What are you doing with that?”

  “Protecting us.”

  “I called Ben—”

  He held up a hand to quiet her and turned back to the door. The clicking and scratching had subsided but he could still make out noises that seemed out of place. The wind, yes. But not the swishing sound. His senses kept misfiring so he couldn’t tell how close or far away the noise was from them.

  She stood at his arm, practically on top of him. “There’s nothing out here.”

  A dog barked and it sounded close.

  “Something is out there,” they said at the same time.

  He grabbed her hands and put the knife in them. Curled her fingers around the handle. “I want you to—”

  “Don’t even think of separating from me.” She shook her head. “That is not negotiable.”

  Reasonable but he didn’t have a choice. They could be right on top of the one person they needed to catch. “I need to check outside.”

  “You’re an engineer, not a self-defense expert. Wait for Ben.”

  She no sooner said the words than he heard a car door. Then another. He stepped closer to the window along the side of the door. Not an easy task since she was almost attached to him and trying to drag him backward, away from the glass.

  He could see flashlights and make out two figures. When he recognized the steady gait of one of them, a wave of relief strong enough to threaten his balance hit him. “Ben’s here.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can see him.” Connor took the time to undo each lock and waited for Ben to come fully into view before opening the door. When he did, two men stood there.

 

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