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Dead Giveaway

Page 2

by Diane Benefiel


  “Cameron, this big guy is Bubba, and the little one is Oreo.” Eli’s voice was low and calming.

  “Oreo?” Cameron leaned down to pet the little dog. “That’s because he’s black and white, right?” Oreo reached out a tongue to lick his hand.

  Eli’s features softened fractionally. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  Cameron flashed a brief smile, one of the first Gwen had seen in days. Eli rose and led them into the room. The entryway opened to a comfortable living room with a large couch and a recliner that invited curling up with a good book. A fire warmed the room from behind a wrought-iron screen, and a large area rug in front of it covered the knotted-pine floor. Even if Eli wasn’t exactly welcoming, his house felt homey.

  “What took you so long to get here?” The abrupt question startled her. He had been expecting them? The idea that he had somehow known she would come to him, had been waiting for her, unsettled her, like there was some unspoken connection between them. And that didn’t bear thinking about.

  Eyes on his uncle, Cameron straightened and backed up a step, bumping into Gwen. She settled her hands on his shoulders and pulled him against her. “We got here as soon as we could.” She swallowed her pride. She’d already arrived on his doorstep uninvited, so what was making another appeal to him in the grand scheme of things? “I’m sorry to show up like this, but I didn’t know where else to go. We need your help.”

  She expected Eli to make some smart-ass retort, or at least make her explain, but he gave a curt nod. “You have it.”

  “Really?”

  He ignored the knee-jerk response, those steel-colored eyes not giving any hint of what he was thinking. “You two hungry?”

  “Yeah, we are. I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since lunch. Anything you have is fine.”

  “Stop apologizing.” He turned to lead them past a dining area with a large sturdy-looking table and through a walkway into a country kitchen with pine cabinets, stone countertops, and an apron sink. A small table stood in the corner surrounded by four ladder-back chairs. The dogs followed, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. Bubba lay on a cushion in the corner with a heavy sigh.

  Eli opened a door to what was apparently a pantry, flipped on a light switch, and motioned her over. “Pick out whatever you and Cameron want to heat up.”

  Careful not to brush against him, Gwen peered into the small room and found shelves lined with food staples, mostly cans of soup and chili. She selected chicken noodle.

  “Gwenny?” She stepped out of the pantry and leaned over when Cameron tugged her down to whisper in her ear. She nodded and looked at Eli. “Could we use the bathroom before we eat?”

  Eli took the can and set it on the counter, then led the way out of the kitchen and down a long hall. He motioned to the bathroom.

  Gwen took Cameron’s coat. “You go ahead, Cam. Wash your hands with soap, front and back, when you’re done.” Oreo followed him into the bathroom.

  Cameron closed the door and Gwen felt the tension between her and Eli immediately ratchet up several notches. A quick glance found him watching her, expression inscrutable.

  Heat climbed from her neck. “I really am sorry to arrive this late, and without any warning.” She’d taken a gamble. She and Eli had been at odds from the moment they’d first met, but for reasons she couldn’t explain even to herself, he represented safety. Plus, however he felt about her, as fractured as his family had been, he’d made the effort to have a relationship with his mother and half-sister, and would want to protect his nephew.

  “I’ll put the soup on so you can eat and get the kid into bed, then you’re going to tell me what the hell’s going on, what you know about my sister’s death.” She could only stare after him as he turned to disappear down the hall.

  He knew about Chloe. Relief lifted a weight from her shoulders. She wouldn’t have to tell him his sister was dead.

  After Cameron came out and she took her turn in the bathroom, they returned to the kitchen, the little dog following close behind Cameron. Within minutes they were seated at the table, steaming bowls of soup in front of them. Eli placed a box of crackers and glasses on the table and then a gallon of milk before taking a seat. Cameron crumbled saltines into the bowl and dug in while Gwen poured him a glass of milk. Chicken noodle was one of his favorite comfort foods. As he spooned up soup he cast an occasional considering look at his uncle. He had on what she thought of as his “thinking face.”

  “I can’t stay here without my Aunt Gwenny.”

  Gwen caught her breath. She opened her mouth, but Eli spoke before she could. “Understood.”

  Cameron nodded and took a gulp of milk. He wiped the milk mustache on his sleeve. “Good, ‘cause we’re a team.”

  Gwen kept her eyes on the bowl in front of her, hoping Eli wouldn’t think she’d set Cameron up to say that. She gave an inner shrug. He already disliked her, so it hardly mattered. But being forced to ask for his help galled her. She raised her gaze to his. “Look, despite what Cameron says, you’re under no obligation because we landed on your doorstep. My car died on the road. If we had help to get it started, we could go back to town and find a motel.” And use up the last of her cash. God, she sounded pathetic. But at this point, she was too tired to care.

  Eli turned his narrowed gaze on her. “Your car died on the road? You walked here? At night?”

  She lifted her chin. “Yes, Eli, we walked here. It was either that or spend the night in the car. I don’t have your phone number so I couldn’t call. Even if there was cell service.” She shrugged. “If we hadn’t seen your mailbox, we would have turned around and gone back to the car.”

  “Christ.” Eli swore under his breath, then skewered her with a look. “You hightail it all this way in an unreliable car. You take Cameron without telling anyone where you’re going, and you didn’t even have my phone number to make sure I’d be here? What if I wasn’t home? What would you have done then?” The clipped tone, the way he narrowed his eyes that made her think his gaze could bore right through her, and once again Elijah MacElvoy’s disapproval came through loud and clear.

  And, as always, it put her back up. “I would have done the same as I’ve been doing. I’d figure it out and survive. Whether it seems like it or not, Elijah, I’ve done what I thought was best given the circumstances. And the circumstances haven’t been easy.” She watched Cameron fiddle with his spoon. Arguing upset him, so she deliberately changed the subject. Forcing a neutral expression, she turned back to Eli and tried to make her tone even. “Would it be too much of an imposition if Cameron and I had showers?”

  He gave a snort that made her think she hadn’t been as even-toned as she’d hoped. “Yeah, sure.”

  She brought their dishes to the counter, then followed Eli’s directions to the upstairs bathroom, Cameron trailing behind her. “You’ll have to get back into the clothes you’re wearing. Don’t take too long,” she instructed in a quiet voice. She shut the bathroom door and turned, bumping into a solid male form. The subtle whiff of pine and leather tickled her nose.

  “Sorry.” She tried to scoot around him. “I’ll go wash our dishes.”

  “I took care of the dishes. Here are clean t-shirts to sleep in for both of you.” He pushed the clothing into her hands.

  “Oh, thank you.” Flustered at his nearness, she knocked on the door and when he opened it, passed a shirt through to Cameron.

  Eli gestured down the hall. “I’ll show you the rooms where you and the boy will sleep.”

  She wanted to tell him they’d sleep in the barn; that they’d go back to the car and sleep there. Anything was better than being beholden to Elijah MacElvoy. Only the knowledge that either scenario would add to Cameron’s insecurity kept her quiet. He hadn’t complained once when they’d raced away from Los Angeles, but he’d curled up in the passenger seat and sobbed out his grief as she’d driven. He was grieving for his mother and he needed to feel secure, and they were safe here.

  Seeming to reali
ze she was conducting an internal debate, Eli waited until she finally nodded and followed him down the hall. He turned on the light in the room next to the bathroom. “This should do for Cameron.”

  She looked past him. Though sparsely furnished, the room had the basics, which included a twin bed and a dresser. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

  He waved to a darkened doorway across the hall. “That’s mine.” He led her to the next room past his and reached in to flip on a switch. “You can sleep here.” There wasn’t anything that she’d call a homey touch, a full-size bed, dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp, but it was leaps and bounds better than a bed in a cheap motel, or the car.

  “Thank you, Eli. I really am sorry for intruding.”

  She was standing in the doorway and when he turned to look at her, she found him close enough to see the spark of flint in his eyes when he raised a dark brow. “No more apologies. Come downstairs once you’ve had your shower and gotten Cameron to bed.” He spun on his heel and disappeared down the stairs.

  Chapter Three

  Eli stood in the shadowed room lit by a single lamp, staring out the darkened window. Opening his front door and seeing Gwen and Cameron had shaken him. They were safe. That’s all that mattered; they were safe. The refrain spun through his head. Gwen had come to him, and she and his nephew were safe. He’d been out of his mind since getting the phone call from his brother-in-law telling him about Chloe, and that Gwen was missing and Cameron was with her.

  His sister was dead. That pain was never far from the surface. But overshadowing the grief had been the all-consuming fear that something had happened to his sister’s son and her best friend. Despite being constantly at odds whenever they’d met in the past, Gwendolyn Ballard had never been far from his mind. They’d argued about Chloe and Cameron, how Gwen had been too close to the boy. Chloe had been a marginal mother at best, and he had always felt his sister would have bonded better with her son, would have risen to the challenge, if Gwen had let them be. But despite their conflict and the years that had passed since he’d last seen her, he’d thought of her.

  He didn’t trust Chloe’s husband, but Justin’s seeming concern when asking whether Gwen had shown up at the ranch had given him some small assurance she might do exactly that. Only the tiny flicker of hope that she would make her way to him had kept him from racing south and beating the hell out of the bastard on principle. He’d pegged Justin as an arrogant prick when Chloe had first introduced them, and that assessment hadn’t changed. And instinct told him Justin wasn’t telling him the truth about what had happened to Chloe. He didn’t know why Justin thought Gwen might come to him if she was in trouble, but when every instinct called for him to act, to do something, he’d stayed put and waited.

  A quiet sound had him glancing toward the door. Gwen stepped into the room, her gaze fixing on his. As always when she was near, his body tightened and he had to fight back the urge to touch. To touch that glorious hair, the smooth skin, the subtle curves. His reactions to her were visceral and made him crave the impossible. They always had. Acting on the attraction would be suicide. Gwendolyn Ballard was all the things he didn’t need in a woman, and self-preservation demanded he reject the temptation.

  She broke their contact and glanced around the room. He took the moment to make a careful survey. Her damp hair spread across her shoulders, hair that when dry curled into a mass that held all the colors of a wheat field in summer, from golden brown to sunny blond. Like her hair, her eyes couldn’t seem to settle on one color. They were a whiskey brown shot through with gold, and right now lit by the warm light of the lamp, they gave away her exhaustion. Finally, her gaze returned to his, and she appeared to tamp down on whatever emotions she felt. He’d seen those eyes glow with a warm light when she looked at Cameron, then turn cool and aloof when she looked at him.

  The memory of the first time he’d seen her flashed across his mind. He’d arrived at his mother’s house for the Thanksgiving holiday after the long drive south. And there Gwen had been, his sister’s college roommate standing in front of a window, the sun bringing out the warm tones of her hair. She’d been flirting with a neighbor kid, a young man about her own age, her face alight with fun and laughter. Then she’d caught sight of him, eyes still shining. He’d felt himself scowl, and watched the animation fade, replaced by a carefully blank look that had irked him even more. He shook off the memory.

  “Cameron asleep?”

  “Yes. Oreo is sleeping with him. Thank you again for taking us in.”

  He frowned. “What did you think I’d do? Send you hiking back to your car?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “You could have. Honestly, I did think you would give us a safe place to stay for a few days, or else I wouldn’t have risked coming. But I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.”

  He moved to the recliner and sat, gesturing to the sofa. “Sit before you fall down, Gwen. Tell me what happened to Chloe.”

  She perched at the end of the couch, feet flat on the floor, body rigid. He wondered if she would ever loosen up enough to relax when he was near. She glanced at him, then down at her hands tightly clasped in front of her. She remained silent for so long he thought she wasn’t going to speak. Then, attention resolutely focused on the hands in her lap, she spoke in a quiet voice. He listened carefully, sensing the emotion held tightly in check.

  “Cameron and I were going on vacation. Thursday was the last day of school for both of us, so I’d gotten the car packed and we were going to leave early Friday morning.”

  “Wait. What do you mean it was the last day of school for both of you? Are you still in college? I thought you’d graduated.”

  He caught the confusion in her expression. “Of course I did. I graduated several years ago. I’m a teacher.”

  Disbelief had him sitting back in his seat. He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d told him she made her living as a rodeo clown. “A teacher? With your background?”

  She raised her head, whiskey eyes narrowed. “And what background would that be, Eli?”

  He decided he’d be better off leaving that one alone. “Never mind. What grade do you teach?”

  “Kindergarten.”

  He tried to reconcile his memories of her with the kind of person who taught kindergarten. To him a kindergarten teacher meant someone with a sunny personality who could shift from teaching shapes and letters to tying shoelaces and keeping kids from eating paste. Maybe he was stereotyping, but he had a hard time equating party girl with wholesome. “Huh, kindergarten.” He shook his head. “So you and Cameron were planning a trip. Was Chloe going?”

  A tired smile bowed her lips. “Chloe at the beach for a week? Not really her thing, and besides, she and Justin were trying to work out some issues. Chloe was glad I wanted to take Cam so they’d have a few days without him overhearing them argue.”

  She stared down at her hands again. “Cameron called around midnight. He said he’d woken and could hear Chloe and Justin yelling and screaming at each other. He was scared and wanted me to come get him.”

  “Had he done that before?”

  She shook her head, and continued, voice flat. “They’d been arguing a lot lately so Cam had been spending quite a bit of time with me. He’d wanted to spend that night with his mother because we were going to be gone for a week. Anyway, I only live a couple of miles away so I drove over there. They needed to know they were scaring Cameron, but I also wanted to get him out of there. I parked in the alley by the backyard side gate and went up the outside stairs to the balcony. Cam’s bedroom opens onto the balcony. He was sitting on a lounge chair and he’d been crying. I could hear Justin and Chloe downstairs, yelling at each other.”

  Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her hands tighter. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s when you took him?”

  Her breath quickened as if the emotions she’d tried to keep tamped down were bubbling up. In an abrupt movement, she surged to her feet, then turned
to face him, arms crossed tightly in front of her. “I got Cam to the car and told him to wait for me. I couldn’t take him without letting Chloe know. My plan was to take him home, then bring him back in the morning to say good-bye before we left for our trip. I had rented a cottage at the beach on the central coast for a week. He’d been so excited.” Her voice cracked and she drew a deep breath. No matter Gwen’s faults, he’d never doubted her love for Cameron.

  She spoke again, voice steadier. “I went in through his bedroom on the second floor. Chloe and Justin were getting louder, more intense. Chloe shouted something about keeping that shit out of her house. That she’d tell the chief that the Bennett men were all dirty cops.” Eli recalled that Justin’s brother and father were in the police department, too. He was suddenly glad his sister had never changed her maiden name from Fontaine. At least she and Cameron didn’t have Justin’s last name.

  Gwen paced across the living room to stand in front of the fireplace, head bent. She whirled to face him, words coming in a rush, as if by spitting them out she could rid herself of a bitter taste. “There were crashing noises, like furniture being overturned, and Chloe was screaming. Then she wasn’t. I crept out on the landing where you can see the living room. I kept to the shadows and looked over the railing.” Her throat worked convulsively as her grief-stricken gaze meeting his. “She was dead, Eli. Justin was standing over her with a bookend in his hand. It was from a set I’d given her for Christmas. They’re shaped like elephants and are heavy.” She took a shuddering breath. “He must have hit her really hard because… her skull was caved in. And there was this awful puddle of blood on the floor.”

  The horrific images her words created seared his brain. “Christ, Gwen. I’m sorry you saw that.” He rose to his feet. No matter how things had been between them in the past, in that moment he had the urge to draw her close, to hold her, and maybe help lessen the pain.

 

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