by Vella Day
She could picture him sitting at the window, waiting, while she sat there twiddling her thumbs. “Do you have satellite?”
“We have a dish for the Internet, but Dad never bought a TV.”
Really? “What do you do to entertain yourself when you come here?” The image of Trent with a woman’s long legs entwined around him shot to the forefront of her brain, but she pushed it away. That woman had long, black hair—not blonde like hers.
He chuckled. “I don’t come here often, but when I do, I read. If I bring some buddies along we play cards or board games.”
Was this man for real? “You hunt?”
“When I get the chance, which isn’t all that often. You’ll be able to tell, because the place needs some serious airing out. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten away.”
Then games it would be. At least, she was pretty good at checkers and chess. And there was always poker—strip poker if she had her way. “Do you have indoor plumbing?”
While Charlotte didn’t really consider herself a princess, she had her limits, especially in the winter.
He glanced her way. “Yes. We even have hot running water for showers, as well as a decent-sized refrigerator and a stove top.”
That was some consolation. “Has my dad ever been there?”
“No, which was one reason why I came up here.”
Charlotte needed to think about that reasoning. “You think someone will try to torture my location out of him?”
“If they try, they won’t succeed. Vic doesn’t know the town’s name let alone the street the cabin’s on, so he can’t leak the location even if he wanted to.”
That made sense.
They turned off a long, boring road then headed through a town of sorts. There was a gas station, grocery store, sporting goods store, a clothing store, and an assortment of other places. The town itself was maybe three blocks long.
Trent pulled in front of the food store. “We need some supplies if we’re going to eat. You cook?”
“I make do, but I’m no gourmet.”
“Neither am I.”
Well, wasn’t this going to be fun? Trent got out of his side, rushed over, and opened her door. She liked that. As she stepped out, his gaze was on the surroundings.
“You’re kind of scaring me, Detective. You can’t possibly think this crazy dude followed us here, do you?”
“I hope not, but I can’t be too careful.”
Now he sounded like her dad. “True.”
“By the way, call me Trent. It will look less suspicious. While I don’t come here often, a few people know me. I’ll say you’re my girlfriend, which will cause less gossip.”
Did he bring many women here? Is that why it wouldn’t look odd? Whatever. She bet he wouldn’t like it if she acted like a real girlfriend, hugging him close then planting a kiss on his cheek when he did something thoughtful or sweet. Stupid idea, but she needed something to distract her from freaking out about the crazed lunatic taking another pot shot at her.
They entered the small, country store. “What do you like to eat?” he asked.
“I’m easy. I make a mean chicken, rice, and stewed tomato casserole.”
He smiled, and she thought she just might have to thank that shooter for forcing her into confinement. “Sounds great. Hamburgers or spaghetti?” he asked.
“Spaghetti.” She liked this game. “For breakfast, are you more of a scrambled eggs and bacon guy or pancakes with a ton of syrup man?” Given his flat abs, she bet he only ate organic eggs.
“Eggs.”
Figures. As they went down each aisle, he gave her choices. At first, she’d thought Trent was rigid like her dad, but now he presented a more fun and friendlier side than he’d shown at first.
He paid, and they hauled the groceries to his car, but not before he checked out the lot. Charlotte had never had anyone watch over her so carefully. It was a not-so-bad experience.
The drive to his dad’s house only took ten more minutes. To her delight, the one-story brick home looked well kept, and she loved the large wooden porch in front. Even though covered chairs were shoved to one end, she bet in the summer, this would be a great place to sit and have a drink.
Once inside, Trent pointed out where things should go, and they put the groceries away.
“Do you think you can handle making the hot chocolate while I light the fire?” he asked. “I’ll leave the door open for a few more minutes to air the house out.”
“Sounds good.”
This whole playing house thing was strange, but cool in an odd sort of way. Charlotte had dated her fair share of guys, but she’d never lived with anyone, if she could say that was what they would be doing for a few days. Wanting to show him she could be useful, she set about heating the milk for the hot chocolate then located the mugs.
By the time she brought out the drinks, Trent had the door closed and a fire going. She loved the smell of the burning oak. He was on the sofa with his laptop booted up.
He glanced up, took the proffered mug, and inhaled. “Smells good. I’ll get the luggage in a bit. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your dad.”
That would be a short-lived conversation. “I don’t really know much about what he did or didn’t do other than he was deployed overseas and then was involved in undercover shit with the FBI.”
Trent nodded. “That must have been tough on you.”
“Sure, but it was harder on Dad, I think. Every time he was able to come home after an assignment ended, he seemed sadder, more distant.”
“How did that make you feel?”
She was about to make a snarky remark about him acting like a shrink, but then she thought better of it. He was just being sympathetic. “Sad, but mostly for my mom. She really loved my father, but it was like she encased her heart in some kind of protective barrier after each episode to prevent further suffering.”
His lips pressed together. “Your dad mentioned you did interior design work. What made you go into that field?”
Was he trying to put her at ease or figure out what kind of person she was? Maybe he thought she was some crazed artist who attracted the loons, and that the man after her had nothing to do with her dad or her mom.
She shrugged. “I didn’t do very well at academic subjects. I’m not blaming dad or anything, but my mom and I were a bit distracted every time he left for work. We never knew if he’d come home again.”
Trent’s brows pinched. “That had to be difficult. What did the kids at school say?”
Her chuckle came out rueful. “We told people he was a salesman who traveled around the country a lot.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It sucked at times, but Mom and I grew closer because of it. She’s an amazing artist. While I was never talented enough to paint, she taught me what looked good together. Eventually, I developed my own style of design. After my parents divorced, I wanted to stay near home for school. I studied interior design at the University of Virginia.”
He nodded. “Vic mentioned you two didn’t talk a lot.”
That was a nice way of putting it. “Not for a long time. I was mad that he wasn’t around when I needed him. Kids aren’t very understanding. After the fire, he called me. He sounded different, so I agreed to meet with him.”
“Different? How so?”
“He acted defeated, and I’d never seen that attitude in him before. I know you and Max Gruden, as well as the FBI team, helped bring down that terrorist cell, but I think my dad felt bad he wasn’t involved as much as he’d have liked.”
“Your dad was fighting for his life. He couldn’t have helped physically.”
“I know.” She wished her father could see it that way.
“Just so you know, it was your dad who cracked the case. He had the evidence that led to the takedown.”
She sat back. “He never mentioned it.”
Trent shook his head again. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t.” He waved a hand. “Didn’t mean
to get off topic. Tell me how you repaired the relationship.”
“I’m not sure I can say it is totally healed, but it’s getting that way. When we met after his accident, I could see he was really torn up about how things were between us.” She sniffled, determined not the cry. “I guess I wanted to give him another try at being a dad.” She smiled, but her lips wobbled. “He’s doing the best he can.”
“He is at that. It was nice of you to take time off work to come here.”
She raised her brows. “I think I’ve created more of a mess by doing so.”
Trent drank his now-cooled cocoa. “If you hadn’t, we might have focused on someone being pissed at your mom instead of a person aimed at hurting Vic’s family.”
Charlotte sat up straighter. “You think?”
“I can’t be certain, but that attempt at your life made your dad look at other options.”
She drank her cocoa, too, a bit calmer than before. “I hope so.” This conversation had dredged up some guilt and pain. She set down her cup. “I’d like to help. What can I do?” She was referring to both figuring out who was after her dad, her mom, and her, as well as getting them settled. If he didn’t find something for her to do, she’d have to focus on what made the hot detective tick.
“When I hear from your dad, I’ll see if there’s something I can have you research. Did you bring a laptop?”
“Wouldn’t leave home without it.” She’d promised her boss she’d work on some designs while she was in Rock Hard.
As bad as this seemed, if this mess brought her mom and dad back together, then getting shot at would be the best thing ever.
Chapter Twelve
Ellie wasn’t thrilled about sitting at Vic’s office all day with nothing to do, but he said he needed his computer and files, which meant he had to go to the office. They stowed her suitcase in the trunk, phoned in a to-go order at a place called Italiano’s, and headed to his work. The food would be delivered shortly.
As soon as they stepped into the reception area, Sharon placed a hand on her chest. She had her coat on and her computer shut off. Vic said the office closed at noon on Saturday and it was a little after that now.
“There you are. I was worried about you,” Sharon exclaimed.
Vic glanced to the ceiling then back at her. “Shit. I’m sorry. I should have called in.”
“Yes, you should have. I heard about the car wreck. My goodness, but you are an injury magnet. You sure you’re okay?”
The two seemed to have a good rapport. Ellie was glad that after she left, Vic would have someone to watch over him.
“Just a few bumps and scrapes. Any calls?” Vic asked.
Did nothing faze him? What would it take to upset him? He probably told people that his burns had been a mere inconvenience.
“Nothing I couldn’t take care of, boss.”
Vic placed a protective hand on Ellie’s back. “You remember El?”
“Of course.” As Vic detailed the wreck, and then described the attack on Charlotte, worry laced her features. “That’s terrible. What can I do?” she asked.
“You have your gun handy?”
Sharon patted the side of her purse. “I don’t go anywhere without my Annie.”
Annie? As in Annie Get Your Gun?
“Good. If I have to leave for whatever reason and can’t take El with me, can I count on you to protect her?”
She opened her over-sized purse, withdrew a big ass gun, and waved it. “Don’t you worry. I’ll shoot anyone who comes through the door and threatens her.”
“Good. I’ve got some calls to make.” He faced Ellie. “You’ll have to sit in my office since Sharon is leaving.”
“I’ll stay for a bit longer, boss,” his secretary offered.
Vic smiled. “You sure?” She nodded. “Remind me to give you a raise.”
Sharon laughed. “I tell you every week, yet I never see a change in my paycheck.”
Vic chuckled. “How about a bonus then?”
Sharon gave him a thumbs up. He turned to Ellie. “I’ve got another room in the back that we use for storage. You mentioned you might want to paint back there, so take a look and see if it can accommodate you.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Vic leaned over and kissed her before heading down the hallway.
Sharon jumped up and dragged over a chair. “Have a seat.”
She shrugged off her coat and Ellie did the same. “I don’t want to keep you,” Ellie said, never liking to inconvenience anyone. “I can stay with Vic.”
“Nonsense, I have nowhere to go. I’d rather sit here and talk to you. As much as I’ve tried, my damned cat won’t answer me back.”
Ellie liked Sharon. “Well, thank you.” They looked at each other for a moment, and the silence turned rather awkward.
“So, you and the boss back together?” Sharon raised her brows.
That was a bit personal, but the first time Ellie had come in, she could have frozen boiling water. Two days later, they were kissing. She probably would have questioned the change if she’d seen such a difference in two people. “Just trying to make the most of my time here.”
“You go, girl. If I thought I had a chance with Mr. Hart, I’d have asked him out myself.”
Ellie wanted to take the focus off their budding relationship. “Vic said you’re quite the shot. Do a lot of women in Montana carry guns?”
“Some, but Dad wanted a boy real bad.”
“So he decided to teach you how to shoot?’
“Yup. After I was born, the doctors said Mom shouldn’t have any more kids—high blood pressure and all—so he kind of raised me like the boy he wanted. When I was barely old enough to pull a trigger, he took me hunting.”
Ellie smiled. “That’s rather sweet.”
Sharon shrugged. “I guess, but a lot of men are a bit put off by it. That and the fact I’m large.” Ellie could sympathize. “Dad tried to get me to wrestle in high school like he did, but I refused. Who wants to smell some pubescent male’s armpit? No, thank you. Mom put her foot down, too. She went right out and bought me a kids’ cook set.” Sharon laughed. “If you know any men who can be swayed by a gourmet meal, let them know I’m available. Or at least I will be once Darryl dumps me.”
He must be the new man Vic mentioned and the reason for the new blue-streaked hair. “Why do you think he’ll dump you?”
She shrugged. “They always do. Besides, Darryl travels a lot. He’ll find someone else, but I plan to enjoy all he has to offer, if you get my drift.”
“I do.”
The bell above the door chimed and Sharon’s hand went straight to her purse. When a young man wearing a green and white-striped shirt entered, carrying a delicious smelling bag of food, Sharon relaxed.
“Delivery for Hart?”
“Yes.” Ellie dug her hand in her purse and gave the young man a tip. Vic had already paid over the phone.
Ellie felt bad Sharon had to work overtime. “Why don’t you head on home? I’ll stay with Vic in his office.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Unless you want to join us. We have plenty.”
“I’m good, thanks. Will I see you Monday?”
Ellie didn’t want to think how long it would take to solve this case. Poor Wendy might end up covering her classes for another few weeks if Vic didn’t get this resolved soon. Hilton might even have to do some work for a change. “Absolutely.”
As soon as Sharon left, a sense of unease blanketed her. The front of the office faced the street and was mostly glass, making Ellie feel exposed. With food in hand, she rushed down the hallway and into Vic’s office.
“Lunch is here,” she said with as much cheer as possible.
“Does Sharon want to join us?”
“I asked. She said no, so I suggested she head home. She shouldn’t have to wait around for you to work. I’ll sit in here, if that’s okay with you.”
He grinned. “Are you thinking after lunch you can h
ave your way with me? I know how much you used to like doing it on the kitchen counter.”
She stared at him. “You’re kidding, right? Did you forget what we just finished doing?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Women need a break sometimes.”
“Oh, so you want to wait until tonight. Got it. No problem.”
When had he turned into a sex machine? “Haven’t gotten out much lately, have you?”
Vic reached for the food. “Let’s eat.”
The avoidance told her a lot about him. Perhaps women had been afraid of a man with a scar. Their loss.
He moved the files and other paperwork to the side of his desk and spread out the food. “It smells heavenly,” she said.
“It should taste just as good. Italiano’s is the best.”
She dished up her helping of lasagna as did Vic. She nodded to the computer. “What are you working on?”
“My old boss just faxed me the names of all my cases. It was like going down memory lane.”
“Did you catch all the men you went after?” If not, the person targeting her family might believe Vic was still an FBI agent, and the man might want to stop him from continuing the investigation at all cost.
“More or less. I first checked to see if any of the criminals were out of jail. Good news. None are. That leaves either an accomplice or perhaps a relative who would come after us.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot.”
He shrugged. “I’ve solved cases on less.”
She liked to hear that. “How far back are you going?”
“I’ve looked at the cases since we split up. I figure someone from five years ago might know you were my wife. Hell, he might still believe we’re together.”
Ellie couldn’t imagine the additional pain she’d have gone through if she’d learned Vic had been burned in a fire. “That’s logical. You have any names?”
He pushed back his chair and picked up three pages from the printer. “Eat first then you can look at these.”
She slipped them from his fingers as he sat down. “I can do both.”
As she ate the delicious meal, she perused the list. “I remember this man, Stanton Neely, only because this was the last case you had while we were together.”