The Accused

by Jana DeLeon

  “That crossed my mind, too, but I checked all the doors and windows. Nothing is unlocked, and there’s no way he could have exited the house and locked the windows or doors behind him. Not without the keys or the ability to reach through glass.”

  “What about upstairs?” she asked, not wanting to let go of an answer that made her feel safer.

  He shook his head. “He didn’t have time to get back upstairs after breaking this window. I was out of the room too quickly and would have seen him.”

  “Unless he was using a secret passage, like the one from the laundry room to the master bedroom.”

  Carter frowned. “I suppose it’s possible, but at the moment, I don’t care. Let’s get upstairs and grab whatever we need to leave. You’re staying at my place tonight.”

  “I can’t. I’ll have to start over my two weeks and given how difficult they’ve been, I really want credit for the time I’ve already put in.”

  He glanced down at his watch. “It’s past midnight. That’s good enough for a day for me. We’ll come back tomorrow morning. You could stay in town all day shopping and it counts, so why would it matter if part of the time you spend away is at night?”

  “Well, I... Hmm.” She couldn’t think of a single logical argument against what Carter was saying.

  “Besides,” he continued, “no one even has to know. We can be back here before dawn.”

  “Then maybe we don’t have to tell William?”

  He nodded. “Or my mother.”

  Despite her anxiety, she smiled. “I wouldn’t want to smear your reputation.”

  “I’m not sure it’s good enough for a smearing to matter. Let’s put on shoes at least, and I need to grab my keys.”

  “What about the window?”

  “I don’t have the tools to deal with it tonight and I’m sure Amos has been asleep for hours. Quite frankly, if someone wants to come in after we leave and roam all night, I don’t care.”

  She blew out a breath. “Then let’s get going.”

  * * *

  CARTER PUSHED OPEN the door to his cabin and stepped back, allowing Alaina to enter. It was close to 1:00 a.m. and they were both beyond exhausted. She hesitated a millisecond, then stepped into his living room and waited as he closed the door and locked it. He’d left a lamp on in the living room, but one look at her stiff posture and he knew the dim light only reminded her of what they’d fled from.

  He flipped on the ceiling fan lights and the room lit up. Her shoulders relaxed a bit and he pointed to two doors on the right side of the room. “The first door’s the bathroom. Second is the bedroom. Kitchen ahead of you and that’s pretty much it.”

  She scanned the tiny cabin but he could tell by the way she picked at a loose thread on the bottom of her T-shirt that her mind was miles away.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No,” she said, her voice quiet and emotionless.

  He stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “This is going to be all right.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t know that. What if it’s finally time for me to pay the piper?”

  “You know what’s happening is not right. There is no great karmic reckoning. Whoever is stalking you is breaking the law and he’s going to pay for that. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  She nodded but didn’t look convinced. “I’m really tired. Can we just go to bed?”

  “Sure.” He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. “You’re in luck. I washed all the linens yesterday.”

  He waited for a smile, even a small one, but she just stood there clutching her purse. “Go ahead and get comfortable. I’m going to make a quick check of everything and get a drink. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

  She placed her purse on the dresser and kicked off her sandals, then slipped under the covers. He reached for the bedroom light, but she sat up and shook her head. “Leave it on, please.”

  “Sure.” He left the light on and headed for the kitchen.

  The cold beer was tempting but not a good idea. Given the disadvantage he’d have, Carter didn’t think the intruder would come looking for Alaina at his cabin, but he couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t worth the risk to dull his senses, even by only one beer.

  He grabbed a bottled water instead and took a gulp, letting the cold liquid run down his dry throat. Staring out his kitchen window into the swamp, he ran through the night. So many things had happened in such a short span of time—so many lines crossed that should never have been crossed.

  If he said he regretted sleeping with Alaina, he’d be lying. Their passion had been incredible—more intense and pleasurable than he’d ever experienced before. He’d never regret that, but he did feel guilty.

  Alaina was scared and anxious, with her entire life at a crossroads. He worried that in a saner state she wouldn’t have made the choice she made tonight. Clearly, she was in shock now and he imagined most of it was because of the intruder. But what if some of that shock was attributed to having sex with him?

  He’d added another layer for an already-overloaded mind to deal with, and for that, he felt bad. From this point on, he’d be the professional he was supposed to be. When this was all over and Alaina was safe, he’d let her decide if she wanted to revisit what had happened between them tonight.

  He turned from the kitchen window and caught sight of his laptop on the kitchen table. His body wanted to join Alaina in bed, but his mind was whirling so hard on overload that he knew sleep wouldn’t come quickly or well. He walked over to the bedroom and peeked inside. Alaina was curled up on her side, her breathing deep. Exhaustion and stress had finally gone into overdrive and her body had shut down to recuperate. He’d been there many times before.

  Likely, she’d sleep through until morning, which meant if he wanted to take the time to do some research on the two missing suspects, he had the bandwidth. If she awakened, he’d be close enough at the kitchen table to hear her. He reached for the lamp on the dresser and clicked it on, then turned off the overhead light. She never stirred.

  Satisfied that she was safe and resting, he headed into the kitchen and opened his laptop. Somewhere, there had to be a clue. All day it had nagged at him that he was missing something. It was there, just under the surface. He just had to expose it.

  The sooner this was over, the sooner he could address his feelings for Alaina. He wasn’t even going to lie to himself that it was just a physical attraction. That was definitely part of it, but it went deeper than that.

  When this was over, he’d figure out just how deep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alaina ran down the stairwell in the dark. The boom of thunder sounded all around her and her head felt as if it would burst with each blast. It seemed she’d been running down the stairs forever, trying to escape something that pursued her. Something she couldn’t see.

  The first floor was hidden from her, lost in a haze of gray, but she knew it was there. If only she could run faster...harder...she’d make it off the stairs. She strained to see the marble floor in the darkness, certain it was only inches away.

  “You look for the wrong things.”

  Her mother’s voice caused her to slow.

  “I look for peace and happiness,” she replied.

  “You cannot have peace and happiness without truth.”

  “But what is the truth?”

  “It’s there. It’s always been there.”

  She stopped running and strained to hear her mother’s voice as it began to fade away. “Wait, don’t go!”

  “The truth is inside of you...inside of you...inside of you...”

  The voice echoed in her head, then faded away to silence.

  * * *

  ALAINA BOLTED UPRIGHT in the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. A second wave of panic washed over her when she realized she didn’t recognize anything about her surroundings. She flung back the covers and jumped out of bed, then remembered she was at Carter’s house...in
Carter’s bed.

  Last night!

  It all came back to her in a flash—the intruder, their flight from the house.

  Having sex with Carter.

  What in the world had she been thinking? The last thing she needed to do was complicate her life any more. Everything was a muddled mess—lacking so much clarity that now even her dreams were muddled.

  The truth is inside of you.

  Yeah, right. If she’d been carrying around the answer to her seriously screwed life, wouldn’t she have found it by now? Instead, she’d quit a perfectly good, if limited, job and relocated to the middle of a swamp where she was being harassed by a mystery intruder and protected by a cop who had a natural distrust and dislike for attorneys, but whom she’d had earth-shattering sex with the night before.

  Oh, the truth was definitely inside of her. She was an idiot.

  She flipped the covers back over the bed. From the looks of things, she’d spent the rest of the night alone. The other side of the bed showed no signs of recent occupancy. Vaguely, she remembered Carter stating he’d join her shortly, but he must be on man time. Like when men said they’d call you tomorrow and the call came two weeks later.

  Frustrated at the level of chaos that was now her life, she headed into the living room to see if Carter was anywhere in sight and if he kept coffee in his bachelor pad. It took only one step out of the bedroom to spot him slumped over the kitchen table, arms crossed under his head, and dead asleep. A little of her aggravation wore off at the sight of the open laptop in front of him. He’d probably spent hours combing the internet for information that might help them and had fallen asleep sitting there.

  Whatever faults Carter may have, apparently lack of dedication to his job wasn’t one of them. She eased across the living room to the kitchen, not wanting to startle him, but as she stepped into the breakfast nook, the hardwood floors creaked beneath her.

  Carter jumped up from the table, grabbing his pistol with one hand and her arm with the other. Surprised at the speed and intensity of his movement, she gasped. In a split second, he released her arm.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he placed the pistol back on the table.

  “Occupational hazard?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He ran one hand through his hair. “I didn’t realize I fell asleep.”

  “I was trying to wake you without startling you, but I wasn’t exactly successful.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I should have called it quits and gone to bed a long time ago.” He stretched his arms above his head and tilted his head from side to side. “I’ll probably have a stiff neck the rest of the day.”

  Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes and his face showed the strain he felt. A wave of guilt washed over her. She’d blown into this man’s life and upset the balance to the point that the life he’d previously enjoyed had now become a strain.

  “I’m sorry my personal problems are interfering so much with your normal life. I never thought when I came here that things would get so weird.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Isn’t it? Whatever is going on is because of me—whether I brought it with me or my presence prompted someone who was already here to go off the rails—either way, it’s still my coming to Calais that set the wheels in motion.”

  “That still doesn’t place the blame on you. Whatever is going on is only the fault of the perpetrator. I’m surprised to hear an attorney, of all people, putting forth a blame-the-victim argument.”

  She sighed. Nothing was worse than when someone threw your profession back in your face and was right about it. “I’m not arguing. I just figured you probably left New Orleans to get away from this sort of aggravation and I’ve brought it right to your front door—or into your kitchen—however you want to look at it.”

  He looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up at her. “I suppose it sounds bad if I say that I’m kind of enjoying the change of pace, right?”

  He looked so guilty that she had to smile. “So the small-town thing does get dull.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m happy that someone’s harassing you,” he hurried to explain. “You could have been killed the other night.”

  She sobered a bit. “I know you’re not happy about it, but all the same, I’m really glad you’re the one here handling it. Your experience is a big advantage and one that most perpetrators wouldn’t expect in such a small place.”

  “Doesn’t seem like much of an advantage at the moment.”

  “Well, it is, and that’s my professional opinion. No arguing.”

  He gave her a small smile. “I wouldn’t dream of arguing with an attorney.”

  “Good, then please tell me you have something to eat in here. I really don’t feel like returning to that mausoleum on an empty stomach.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Don’t tell me this is really and truly a bachelor’s pad.” She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. “Beer and pizza. You’re living a cliché, Trahan.”

  “If you’re going to live a cliché, that’s a good one.”

  She smiled. “You have a point, but what you do not have is eggs, a bagel or even a loaf of bread.”

  He nodded. “My mom keeps telling me that if I got married, I could count on eating on a regular basis.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Or two people could count on starving.”

  He grinned. “It’s just one of her many lines. She knows better than to assume anyone wants to cook. For her, it’s an art form, but for others, it’s just another chore. I usually eat breakfast at the café, but if you’re not comfortable with that...”

  She frowned. “I ate there yesterday. Surely, you don’t think Jack is going to make a scene at his workplace?”

  “No. I was thinking more about our showing up there at dawn, in the same vehicle...”

  “Oh!” She felt a tiny blush run up her neck. “Well, Connie’s more likely to give me a high five than a disapproving look, and Jack doesn’t like me anyway.”

  He stepped closer to her and ran one finger down her arm. “And it’s not like any supposition about last night would be incorrect.”

  Her skin tingled at the light touch of his finger and she felt her knees weaken, along with her resolve to avoid a repeat of last night. Suddenly aware of the small amount of thin fabric that separated her more sensitive parts from his hand, she inched back just a bit.

  She didn’t mean to insult him, but from the way he dropped his hand and stepped away from her, she was certain that was exactly what she’d done. Holding in a sigh, she stepped around him and headed for the bedroom.

  “Let me put on my shoes,” she said.

  Carter’s reaction was exactly why they had no business playing games. Too much was at stake to play things fast and loose. It might seem like fun now, but what would that bit of fun cost them in the long run? Maybe Carter could view it as a pleasurable fling. At one time, she would have been able to, as well. But something about the sexy sheriff made her want more and that wasn’t something she was in a position to pursue right now. Everything about her life was in flux. The last thing she needed to do was drag someone into her mess.

  When she exited the bedroom, Carter was standing in the living room holding his truck keys. “We’ll grab some breakfast, then go back to the house. I want to take a look around, but I have other responsibilities, so I can’t be there all day. If you’re not comfortable, you’re welcome to stay with my mother.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. It appears he prefers the cover of night for his monkey business.”

  Carter nodded and opened the front door to allow her out. He was silent the entire ride to the café, and Alaina couldn’t help but wonder what was running through his mind. He stared out the windshield directly ahead of them, almost scowling at the road. Either he was aggravated with the situation, with her or with both. She was betting on both.

  Connie raised her eyebrows when they walked in the café together a
nd took seats at the counter. “So, late night?” she asked as she poured coffee and slid it in front of them.

  Alaina took a sip of the black coffee without even adding sweetener, then sighed. “You have no idea.”

  Something in Alaina’s tone must have conveyed anything but a night of carnal pleasure. Connie’s expression went from sly approval to immediate concern. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  Alaina looked over at Carter, wondering if she was supposed to keep the information quiet. It was something she should have thought to ask on the way over, but with his acting so weird, it hadn’t occurred to her that they might need to get their stories straight beforehand.

  Carter stared at the wall behind the counter, not even aware of their conversation.

  “Carter?” She poked him with her elbow and he blinked.

  “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

  “Connie wants to know if everything is all right,” she said, hoping he understood the question buried in her statement.

  “I see.” He shrugged. “No use in hiding it. Things tend to get around Calais whether you want them to or not.”

  “Okay,” Connie said, clearly worried, “will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’ve apparently got an unwelcoming committee at the house,” Alaina said and told Connie some of the things that had transpired over the past few days—careful to leave out the part about her romp with Carter the night before.

  “So Carter stayed there last night to protect you?” Connie asked.

  “Yes,” Alaina said and left it at that. If people knew she hadn’t stayed at the estate the night before, someone who felt they’d been screwed by her stepfather may try to make an issue of it.

  “Wow,” Connie said. “That’s really awful. I mean, I know people around here didn’t like your stepfather—I’ve been here long enough to hear the stories—but he cut you out of what was yours for a long time. I don’t get why anyone would have a problem with you.”

  “It’s more likely that trouble followed me here.”