Cherished Secrets

by C. B. Clark

  She bit down on her bottom lip. She couldn’t tell him the real reason she’d left. She was four months pregnant the night Skye was killed. If she’d stayed any longer, her pregnancy would have shown. People would have known. Vivian would never have allowed her niece’s unplanned, teenage pregnancy to become fodder for the town gossips.

  “Vivian made me leave. She didn’t want anyone to think I was involved with the murder.” She shrugged. “You know how she was, always wanting to protect her precious family name.”

  “And you left? Just like that? Because she told you to?”

  Heat flared, and she knew her cheeks were a bright red flag attesting to her lie. “I was sixteen years old, and Vivian was overpowering. Leland stood by her side, parroting everything she said. The two of them worked on me until I finally agreed to do what they wanted, anything to get them to stop. Besides, our relationship was over. You’d made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  A bright flash fractured the dull morning light, followed by an earthshaking boom as if the gods mocked her deception. She shuddered. Dark thunderclouds scudded across the sun turning the sunny day into twilight.

  “Looks like we’re in for a storm.” Declan reeled in the last of his line. “We’d better get going.”

  A smattering of fat drops pebbled the water. In the next second, a gust of wind tore at her hair, and rain pelted down in sheets. She shivered and clasped her coat around her.

  “Come on.” He took her hand and hauled her to her feet.

  They ran to a tall fir tree and crawled beneath the branches, and huddled in the nest of dry needles. The thick branches offered protection from the storm. Only a few raindrops dripped through gaps in the boughs.

  Shivering, she brushed back damp strands of hair.

  He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to his warm body.

  Her first instinct was to relax against his broad chest into his warmth, but his all-too-familiar scent of leather and forest enveloped her along with a plethora of heady images. She stiffened and backed away.

  His eyes were bright even in the dim light. “What are you afraid of, Carrie Ann?”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. He was too close.

  He put his hand on her chin and turned her until she was forced to look at him.

  The air rushed out of her at the spark of heat turning his eyes the color of melted chocolate.

  His gaze shifted to her mouth.

  A wildness took hold of her, an urge to take what she wanted; to stop thinking for once and act. She leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his. The first taste of him was a shock, but then she was home, and she pulled him closer, welcoming him back.

  He deepened the kiss, cupping the back of her head, caressing her damp hair with his long fingers.

  Sensation pounded through her as years of lies and resentment receded, and she forgot everything but the way he made her ache for more. In the next instant, the warm press of his lips vanished, leaving her gasping for breath. “What is it?”

  He eased away, a shock of cold air separating them. “We’re not doing this.” His voice was cold. The closed expression on his handsome face told her the truth better than words. Kissing her was a mistake.

  She licked her lips, tasting him. Another mistake. “I should go.” Ducking under the branches, she stumbled into the clearing. The storm had blown over as quickly as it had appeared, and only a smattering of drops dripped from the trees. She ran, slipping and sliding in the mud, her one focus to get away from him.

  “Carrie Ann, wait.”

  She ignored him.

  He caught her arm, stopping her. “I’ll walk you back.”

  She didn’t look at him, was afraid to, but she didn’t fight his grip on her arm. Like a child, she let him lead her along the path back to the motel parking lot.

  Chapter 15

  Declan exhaled a deep breath. After squelching through mud and puddles of water on the slippery trail, they finally broke out of the wet brush and crossed the cracked pavement of the motel parking lot. A few more steps and he’d be safe from the overriding temptation to take her in his arms and once again taste her sweet lips.

  After the path narrowed, he’d been forced to follow behind her on the long trek to the motel. A mistake. One of many this day. All he could think of was her slim hips and shapely butt as she hurried ahead of him. He tore his gaze away, but then her fall of auburn hair caught his attention, and he wanted to run his fingers through the silken strands.

  Her car loomed ahead and all fantasies of rediscovering her naked body fled. “What the hell?” His gut twisted in a tight knot. All four tires of her rental car were flat. Cursing, he bent down and examined them. A deep gash gaped on the tread of the worn rubber of each tire.

  “What happened?” Carrie Ann’s voice was a thin squeak.

  “Someone slashed your tires.”

  “What? Who’d want to wreck my tires?”

  “Someone who knew you were coming to see me.” He walked around her car to where his truck was parked and cursed out loud again. The same asshole who’d slashed her tires had keyed his truck. On the driver’s side, across the door and extending onto the side of the truck bed, someone had scratched the shiny black paint. Murderer was written in large, block letters.

  He heard her gasp, but kept his gaze fixed on the condemning word. Murderer. For the hundredth time since he’d come back to Cooper’s Ridge he wondered what the hell he was doing here. Everyone thought he was guilty. Nothing he did would change their opinions. The best thing he could do was get the hell out of this damn town.

  He glanced at Carrie Ann’s car. All four tires were flattened, the vehicle resting on the rusty rims. His anger redlined. He was willing to face the accusations people threw at him, but this nightmare didn’t involve just him anymore. Someone had wrecked her car because she was with him. He drew his hands into fists, wanting to pound whoever had done this, to smash their narrow-minded faces until even their own mothers didn’t recognize them.

  She touched his arm.

  The heat from her hand seeped through the thin material of his damp shirt, soothing, easing some of his fury.

  “So this is what it’s like for you.” Her voice was quiet. “People hate you enough to want to hurt you.” Tears shone in her eyes and glistened on her long lashes.

  He fought the urge to wipe the tears, but then he caught sight of her flattened tires, and his anger flared again at the malicious damage. Whoever had done this would stop at nothing to show him, and anyone connected with him, contempt. A chill settled over him. What if he hadn’t walked her back to her car? What if the creep who’d damaged their vehicles was still hanging around? “You’re leaving town. Now.”

  Her face was pale, fear written across her fine features.

  Good. She should be afraid. Fear would make her realize the seriousness of the situation. Fear would make her listen.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  He blew out an angry puff of air. “The asshole who did this is probably the same jerk who shot out your tire. Next time, he might not just wreck your tires. He might hurt you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have enough on my plate. I can’t be worrying about you too.”

  She stared at him for another long moment, and then she smiled. The small, tight smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Well then, it’s a good thing you don’t have to worry about me, isn’t it? I can look after myself just fine, thanks.”

  His gut tightened, and all his anger at the person who’d wrecked their vehicles found a target and exploded out of him. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? Why can’t you leave town and go back to where you’ve been hiding all these years? I don’t need your help, and I sure as hell don’t want you here.” His breath heaved in and out of his chest as if he’d run a marathon.

  “You’re a real piece of work,” she sneered, her disgust for him plain. She turned and started to walk away.

  �
��Where are you going?”

  She kept walking.

  He was tempted to let her go, but whoever damaged their vehicles might still be lurking, and so he hurried after her. “Wait. I’ll drive you home.”

  She stopped, turned, and faced him, her eyes blazing like molten gold. “Go to hell.” She started walking away again, but not before he saw the tears building in her eyes.

  The air whooshed out of him as if she’d punched him. He took a step after her, but stopped. He’d done enough. More than enough.

  At the side of the road, she dug out her cell phone and made a call.

  He stayed where he was and watched her until after a long wait, a black, four-door sedan slowed and pulled over to the curb beside her. When she opened the passenger door and the interior light shone, he recognized Leland Winters’ grizzled face behind the wheel.

  She climbed in without looking back, and the car pulled into the stream of traffic and drove off.

  He released a breath. She was safe. For now.

  He rubbed his jaw, the rasp of beard loud in the cool, afternoon air and regarded the vandalized vehicles. His anger resurfaced, and he yanked out his cell phone and called the sheriff. He wouldn’t have bothered calling the authorities if only his vehicle was involved. He could deal with the damage caused by the scratching of his truck’s paint, but he wanted the authorities to know someone had done this to Carrie Ann’s car. He wanted them watching her and keeping her safe.

  While he waited for the sheriff to arrive, he vowed he’d find whoever did this and make him pay. No one threatened Carrie Ann, no one. Not when he was around. She wasn’t his responsibility anymore, but suddenly, finding the person who’d slashed her tires was more important than clearing his own name.

  ****

  He stood on the porch and pounded on the door. Carrie Ann wouldn’t be happy to see him. He scowled at the understatement.

  The door opened and light spilled onto the porch. Vivian didn’t act surprised to see him, and she opened the door wider. “She’s upstairs.”

  He raised his brows in question.

  “Go on.” She turned and walked down the hall, disappearing into what must be the living room.

  He shrugged and stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. Crossing the foyer, he headed up the stairs to the second floor. At the top step, he paused, sucked in a steadying breath, and like a soldier preparing for battle, marched down the hallway and rapped on Carrie Ann’s door. As soon as she called out, he opened the door and walked inside.

  She lay on the bed, her head and shoulders propped up by a mound of pillows. Her eyes widened as she glanced up from the book she’d been reading. “What are you doing here?”

  He walked over to the desk and picked up the same chair he’d sat in the day before. Swinging the chair around, he sat down, resting his arms on the chairback.

  Her brow knitted. “You don’t listen very well. I told you to leave me alone.”

  “I thought you’d want to know about your car.”

  “Leland already told me. You called the Sheriff’s Office. They’re looking into who slashed my tires and keyed your truck.”

  He nodded.

  “I guess I should thank you.”

  “For what?” He wrinkled his brow, confused by the unexpected peace offering.

  “You also had the repair shop tow my car. Ted called and told me. He’ll have my tires replaced by tomorrow morning.” Her mouth curved in a semblance of a smile. “He likes me. I’m his biggest customer. You didn’t have to phone Ted about my tires, you know. I would have looked after it.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I like to help damsels in distress.” He fought to keep his voice light. The sheriff hadn’t offered much hope of finding the culprits who’d damaged their vehicles. He believed a bunch of kids out drinking and looking for trouble had caused the damage. The sheriff’s theory was bullshit. The attack was personal. No question, but the violence in the act frightened Declan.

  “What about your truck? How are you going to get rid of the…uh…the writing?”

  “My truck’s in the body shop. They have to repaint the exterior, but the truck should look as good as new when they’re done. I’m driving a rental now.”

  She put her book down and sat up. “You’ve told me about my car, and I’ve thanked you. We don’t have anything else to say to each other. Goodbye.”

  The chill in her voice stung. He scanned the room for suitcases or signs of packing. “Doesn’t look like you’re planning on leaving town anytime soon.”

  “What I do is none of your business.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  She raised her brows in question.

  “Your tires were slashed because you were with me. The person who did that won’t stop with vandalism. You and I have a long history together. Everyone in town knows about us.” He rubbed his hands over his face and frowned. He needed a shave. “Someone shot your tire out the night you came back. The same person slashed your tires today.”

  “You think so?”

  “Someone in this town has a serious hate-on for me.” He met her gaze. “And for you too, now.”

  Her face blanched. “Am I in danger?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s crazy. Who’d want to hurt me?”

  “I don’t know who’s responsible. All I know is someone doesn’t want us to find out who murdered Skye.”

  “I don’t have anything to do with this. Not anymore.”

  “Sure you do. Think.” He met her gaze, trying to make her see what was so evident to him. “You came back to town the same time as I did. You arrived here with me, in my truck and—”

  “That was a coincidence,” she blurted. “I had a flat tire. You were the first person to come by and help me. No one saw us together. It was dark and there was all that rain.”

  “Someone did.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but then her face paled. “Mrs. Higgensdorf.”

  “Is that the nosy old biddy who used to live next door?”

  “She still does. She saw you drop me off.” She groaned. “She probably told everyone she knows.”

  He didn’t say anything, just allowed her time to think the situation through and reach the same conclusion he had.

  Her eyes widened. “You think people believe I came back to town for you?”

  He scowled. Was it really so farfetched? “Looks that way.”

  “My tire was shot out because someone doesn’t want me here? Are they trying to warn me away?”

  He nodded.

  She stared, her eyes large in her pale face.

  Cat’s eyes. The thought floated through his mind, distracting him, but he remembered the danger she was in and focused on her words.

  “I haven’t talked to you in twelve years.”

  “I know you haven’t, but does everyone know we haven’t been in touch?”

  She shivered and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You think someone’s following me?”

  “I don’t know, but we can’t be too careful.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “We?”

  He tried a smile, but his mouth was too stiff. “You’re not going anywhere on your own. From now on, as long as you’re in this town, I go where you go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He stood and slowly walked toward her, his gaze fixed on hers.

  She drew her knees to her chest and pressed her back against the headboard.

  He stood over her. “Someone is out to cause trouble. I’m not going to let them harm you. Until you leave town, you’re with me.” He held his breath, knowing she’d fight him on this.

  She jumped to her feet and shoved him aside, storming across the room. “I am not with you. I don’t need your or anyone else’s protection. I can look after myself.”

  “You don’t get it, do you? You think this is a game?”

  She shook her head, but said nothing.

  He rubbe
d the back of his neck where tension had begun to gather in a tight knot. “Did you ever stop to consider if I didn’t murder Skye, the person who did kill her is still in town? He’s the one who vandalized our vehicles.”

  “You think the murderer’s someone from here?”

  “The P.I. I hired thinks so. It makes sense. Someone local murdered Skye. The killer is willing to do anything to stop us from finding out the truth. He has the best reason of anyone to want to drive me away before I find any new evidence. He framed me with the piece torn from Skye’s scarf. He shot out your tire and then slashed your tires. He knows if he threatens you, I’ll back off. He’s using you to get at me.”

  She sank onto the desk chair and studied him for a long time. “Who is this person? Someone we know?”

  “Probably.”

  She smoothed her hair back, her hand shaking.

  He crouched before her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  Her eyes were clear amber in her pale face. “Why? Why do you care?”

  He knew what she was asking, but he didn’t have an answer, at least not one he was prepared to share with her. “I care because we used to be friends.” He leaned closer, wanting to brush a stray curl off her forehead.

  She flinched.

  He dropped his arm to his side and stood. His voice was wooden as he reassured her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. What happened at the river today won’t happen again. Kissing you was a mistake. One I don’t intend to repeat.” He headed for the door, but stopped and glanced back at her. “Let me know if you decide to leave the house. I’ll come and get you.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes flashed golden fire.

  He hurried out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  A loud crash reverberated, and the door shook as something hard hit the solid wood.

  He expelled a breath. The conversation had gone better than he expected. At least she hadn’t thrown anything at him.

  Chapter 16

  Carrie Ann shrugged on her coat and picked up her car keys from the bench in the front foyer. Her reflection in the hall mirror caught her eye, and she shook her head. In spite of her best efforts wielding blush and mascara, the dark circles under her eyes stood out in her pale face. No wonder. She hadn’t slept.