He displayed a bag with men’s trousers in one hand, a pair of patent leather loafers in the other. “Either of these items look familiar?”
I pointed to the shoes. “Not sure about the pants, but I recognize those.” I should. I’d noticed at the rehearsal dinner that the patent looked too scuffed to be anything but rental. “I think those are Rod’s.”
My knees weakened. How the heck had his clothes gotten into a gift-wrapped box left at my door?
“Any idea how this stuff landed here?”
I could feel my forehead bunch into a giant worry line. My head moved from side to side like an automaton. “Nuh uh.”
Dirk’s stare could double for laser surgery, with my brain as the incision site. My throat closed.
“You’re sure you have no idea why the victim’s shoes were in a box on your porch?”
Unable to swallow or speak, I stood mute.
Dirk grasped my upper arm. “I’m sorry, Lily, butI have to take you downtown.”
Tom Jenkins met me at the station. He accompanied me into the interview room, whispering that I should answer “yes” or “no” and only respond to the questions he approved. I have no remembrance of the inquiry except that Tom convinced them they couldn’t tie me to the gift-wrapped box. Tom escorted me from the station.
“Lily, do you have any enemies?”
His expression worried me. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“The warrant language specified the deceased’s clothes, thereby tying you directly to the murder. I learned the police received a tip.”
“A tip? But that’s—” Scary.
He gnawed his lower lip. “Someone placed that gift at your door to implicate you.”
“I know. I’m just glad you agree.”
His eyebrows raised. “I’m simply repeating your defense.”
“Oh.”
“The lack of fingerprints helped. You’re not past this yet, but we will prove your innocence.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Meanwhile, change your locks, and don’t run around alone after dark.”
****
The crank calls started that night. Actually, hang up calls. Six of them, several back-to-back but the others hit after I’d finally fallen asleep. No heavy breathing or mumbled obscenities. Just a click in my ear after I answered. By four o’clock, I unplugged the phone but couldn’t find dreamland, instead, going multiple wrestling rounds with my bedding.
Still too early to call anyone, I made coffee and a list. “Find out what Gray knows” took over the number one spot.
I tapped my pencil against the paper, waiting for another question to pop. Question two. Who besides me had motive?
The motivation attributed to me—revenge—seemed strong, but anyone who knew me knew better. So who really wanted Rod dead? He’d dumped a busload of woman in Granville Falls alone. The way he’d been strung up pointed to a man or strong woman, but I knew adrenaline could get the job done too.
I jotted two more questions: What had Rod done before he moved to Granville Falls? Where had he moved from?
Even though we’d dated, we hadn’t discussed his past. Now that I thought about Rod, his penchant for privacy seemed odd. Maybe his lone wolf approach protected more than I’d realized.
I made a note to ask Dirk. Not that he’d tell me. Maybe I’d call Matt instead. Not that he’d tell me either, but a girl could hope.
Rubbing my lips as I brainstormed turned out to be a bad idea. Impressions of Gray’s kiss made them tingle, especially when I rubbed harder to eliminate his memory. Throwing down my pen, I leaned back in my chair and sipped coffee.
Maybe Gray had hit on me to throw me off balance. He hated Rod though he never explained why other than saying Rod lusted after Alexa’s money. He’d been at the Orchid Conservatory when I arrived. We’d walked in together, but who’s to say he hadn’t killed Rod the night before?
Gray could be the killer.
My eyes opened wide. I grabbed my pen and list before snorting a laugh and letting the items drop. Gray a killer? Sure, just like me.
But he’d taken over my informal investigation. Why? To control what I learned?
A sense of unease stayed with me. I’d hit on an idea that wouldn’t fade. Rod had known his murderer. I knew Rod well enough to be sure he wouldn’t have turned his back on someone he didn’t trust. The murder occurred after the rehearsal dinner, meaning the killer could be someone I knew. I had no proof but that didn’t stop me from extrapolation. I couldn’t explain why I thought I knew the killer, but the idea felt strong.
No one wants to admit they know a killer. No one sane, that is.
I reviewed the killer’s actions and realized how carefully I’d been set up. Who could I trust? I’d believed in Gray before and that’d gained me nothing but heartache.
Sure, we’d both changed in five years. That just meant I didn’t know Gray anymore, not really. I knew I needed answers based on the present, not the past. I’d have to call Gray in the morning. Okay, later today.
The crank calls and resultant sleep deprivation must have been the excuse for my reluctant response to Gray’s pre-emptive strike.
****
As I dithered over contacting Gray, he called me. “Why don’t we meet for dinner?”
“Dinner?” Fudge. I hadn’t planned a face-to-face encounter. Instead, a cunning inquisition via telephone had played prominently in my imagination. Unfortunately, I hadn’t a clue what questions to ask him.
“You were hauled to the police station again yesterday. You probably haven’t eaten much since. I figured you might want food and a friendly face.”
A friendly face or the killer wanting information? My stomach simultaneously growled and knotted. He was right. I hadn’t eaten, but dining with a possible killer? Really?
“Um, I don’t know.”
His reply came after a short pause. “Lily, I’m on your side.” His exhale echoed in my ear. “How about I pick you up?”
Well, whether he counted as friend or foe remained debatable, and I didn’t know how to politely decline while maintaining a semblance of trust. Plus, I still wanted to portray Gray as the white hat. Some girls never learn.
Besides, how much harm could he do in public even if he was the bad guy? “Okay, but I’ll meet you somewhere.”
“Italian?”
We agreed on time and place and hung up. I’d temporarily forgotten my lawyer’s admonition not to run around alone at night, but technically I wouldn’t be unaccompanied. Besides, coming to a conclusion about Gray needed doing sooner than later. May as well be tonight.
He had settled into a back booth when I arrived. A bottle of wine sat on the table along with a small arrangement of holly, red and white carnations and a candle. The restaurant looked three quarters full, a fact that reassured me.
Gray rose as I approached. If he was a killer, he was a gentleman killer.
He seemed restless, gulping his wine and shifting his position as I looked over the menu. Meal decision made, I leaned against the cushioned booth. “So why did you really want to meet tonight?”
“Food. You have to eat, right?”
“Gray, let’s not play games.” I leaned forward and grasped my wine glass stem. “You’re fidgeting like a preschooler. What’s the real reason we’re here?”
“It’s not what you think.” He looked down. Clearing his throat, Gray caught my gaze. “I’m sorry for walking away from you. Sorry I’m a dumb shit. Sorry you can’t trust me.” One corner of his mouth tipped up. “I’m a sorry ass.”
I opened my mouth then closed my trap. What the heck?
His hand covered mine. “I’ve missed you and I want to make up for lost time.”
Still unable to vocalize, I stared mutely. My pulse picked up.
“Lily? Can’t we at least be friends?”
Had I heard him properly over my pounding heart? Friends? He wanted to be friends? After that kiss he laid on me?
“I, um...”
“Oka
y, that’s bullshit. What I want is more than that, but I figure you don’t trust me. I’m hoping you’ll be a friend. First.” He withdrew his hand and leaned against the booth, his eyes downcast.
My hand felt abandoned. I moved it to my lap and under my napkin for warmth.
Holy fudge. How could I answer when my head spun? I shook my head to clear my cognitive efforts, and he apparently thought I denied his request.
He sighed. “Okay, I understand. You don’t want friendship. At least let me continue helping with this mess you’re in.”
My head didn’t want to move out of the negative shake pattern. I think there’s a scientific explanation for an object in motion remaining that way, but in my case, I suffered from shock. I couldn’t jar my brain into normal thought processes after five years of nursing a Gray mad.
He threw his napkin onto the table preparing to move. I had to act or lose my best chance for fixing my past and resolving my present. My hand grasped his, holding him partially in place.
“Wait.” My voice cracked. “Give me a chance to think, will you?”
Gray settled into his seat. He nodded.
I studied his expression and saw warmth rather than the normal cold mask. Looking back, I realized he’d been friendly—kiss excepted—toward me since we’d run into each other right before the canceled ceremony. Even his greeting there had been pleasant.
“What’s your definition of ‘friends’?”
He hesitated. I hoped that meant he intended to be honest.
“You know, hang out. Help each other. Maybe do stuff. Friends.”
“No sex.”
His lips straightened. I didn’t know what to think and then he upped the ante by pushing back a lock of my hair.
“You’re running the show. Whatever you want with or from me is yours.” He grinned. “Sex included.”
I took another sip of wine. “So you want to jump my bones.”
He pushed back against the booth. Gray looked attractive with an open mouth, and that’s not something you can say about every man.
“I mean, why should I trust you now? You’re the one who said Rod deserved to die. How do I know you’re not the killer? How do you know I’m not the killer and about to rack up jail time?” I shook my head. “The timing on this doesn’t make sense.”
He gazed at me, his blue eyes darkening. “That’s the point, isn’t it? We don’t know how long we have. And I want to make sure you don’t get railroaded.”
Put that way, I understood him. “Rod’s death scared you and you’re making amends. Okay, I appreciate your apology.” I swigged wine. “But you don’t have to baby sit me. That’s almost overkill, don’t you think?”
He looked me in the eyes until I squirmed and glanced away.
“You’re making excuses, Lily.”
I looked back and saw him tilt his head. “I like you. A lot. Have for years. Now you’re in trouble, life is short and I’m tired of excuses—yours and mine.”
Sincerity flowed off him in waves but I had questions. “Why now? The timing still seems . . . off. And exactly why did you leave five years ago? You never really answered me.”
“A friend confided you were measuring me for a wedding suit. They said you trusted my sense of honor would convince me to marry you, especially if you got pregnant. I wanted no part of a shotgun wedding and diapers.”
“Who told you that about me?” I sounded like Jack Nicholson in a bad guy role.
He hesitated. “I’d rather not say.” Shifting, he said, “Besides, I want to focus on us, here, now. Want to make something new? Or not?”
Gray nailed the problem. I’d been afraid to engage with men, with him. I reminded myself I’d be stupid to pass up this opportunity for healing. Whoever had warned Gray away from me five years ago didn’t occupy the booth with us now. At least I hoped not.
“Okay, Gray.”
“Okay what?”
My initial response sounded froggy, so I cleared my throat. “Friends.”
Then my secondary response kicked in, reminding me I’d been fooled by the Break-Up King and Gray before. My ability to resist a certain kind of man lacks resolve.
My second thoughts disappeared when I noticed Gray’s steady gaze and faint smile. Maybe I’d get hurt again, but my heart felt lighter than any time in the last five years.
“Good, that’s good.” His thumb brushed my lips. “Just remember part two of my friendship offer.” He topped up my empty wine glass.
“Getting me drunk won’t work again.” I sniffed. “Besides, I don’t put out with just anyone.”
“You really shouldn’t challenge me, but that’s what I like best about you.”
“My smart mouth?”
His eyes darkened. I wriggled in my seat. I really needed to think before I spoke.
We finished dinner, at least he did. I had trouble swallowing. Gray followed me home because he agreed with my attorney about my being out alone. We stood at my door, lips and bodies plastered together. I’d dropped my keys but we weren’t in a hurry. Well, maybe Gray’s hard-on made him feel urgency. Hey, not my fault he pushed his joystick against me so I couldn’t miss the darn thing.
He ran his hands down my sides and left one hand on my hip as he bent to pick up my keys. I shifted my feet, well aware of his mouth’s proximity to my girl parts. My body temperature increased and I checked my hands for signs of steam. None rising. Yet.
Gray stood, dangling the keys in front of my face. “I think we’d better use these. It’s cold out here.”
Now that he mentioned the temperature, I noticed his breath showed in puffs under the lamplight from my front window. My thin-soled shoes had long abandoned all pretense of keeping my feet warm. I took the keys and turned. He placed his hands beside my head and leaned. Damnation, his sinewy strength felt way too good against my back. Fudge. I’d fallen for Gray again.
The phone rang as we entered. I noticed the message light blinking and stiffened.
Gray drew me against him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
I gathered my courage and told him about the hang-up calls and the recent catering cancellations. He pulled me onto the couch and put his arm around my shoulders. I nestled my head onto his chest. My hand covered his heart.
“Well, as long as I’m here, why don’t you play your messages?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Then I can comfort you.” His mouth held a naughty boy grin.
I struggled to move away, but he held me tight until I relaxed.
“Lily, friends comfort each other.”
Without another thought, I reached for the message play button. Two seconds later, I regretted my action. The voice we heard couldn’t be recognized by gender but the message personified evil.
“I know you killed Rod. Stop blaming someone else. You can’t escape justice.”
The unemotional tone of the message scared me almost more than the meaning. I shook. Gray tightened his embrace. He wiped the tears cascading down my cheeks.
“Why is someone doing this to me? I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Lily, you need to call Dirk or Matt. They should hear this message right away.”
I dimly noted he hadn’t reinforced my claim to innocence but I remained too shaken to pursue the lapse.
Unless Dirk worked late, he’d already gone home. Auto-dialing my friend Katie’s number took less time than digging for the card with his business cell number. As I listened to the rings that would interrupt Katie’s evening with her lover, I knew questions about Gray’s place in my life had just multiplied.
Chapter Nine
I watched Dirk’s car pull out of my drive. Waving to one of my neighbors walking his dog, I stepped from the window. Gray moved to face me.
“You shouldn’t be alone tonight.” Gray crossed his arms and spread his feet to shoulder width, punctuating his assertion.
I copied his don’t-mess-with-me posture. “You know, I really hate when someone
tells me how I feel or what I should do.”
His cool gaze caught mine. “You were threatened. The cops just left and you’re upset. How do you expect to sleep tonight if you’re alone?”
“Will I get any sleep if you’re here?” I shouldn’t have said that.
His pupils turned dark. “That depends on you.” His posture relaxed. “I’m willing to pick up where we left off.”
My girl parts clamored “yes.” My heartbreak memories cried “no.” After a short and futile battle, I uncrossed my arms. Stepping forward I fingered his shirt buttons. “Are you sure?”
He placed his fingertips under my chin. “Are you?”
Tired of questions, I grabbed his shirt, pulling him within kissing distance. “This sure enough for you?”
One of Gray’s hands cupped my cheeks. His fingers burrowed into my hair. A soft “yes” hit my ears, his lips descended on mine. Any question about sleeping alone slipped away when we lightly brushed lips.
My nostrils filled with the aroma of his woodsy-scented soap. His tongue made an initial foray into my mouth. He tasted of wine, Italian herbs, and tomato, with a hint of the tiramisu we’d shared for dessert. I hungered for more of him.
Releasing his shirt, I ran my palms across his broad chest to his shoulders. Shoulders he’d implied I could lean on, but that I’d rather hook my hands over for support as we kissed. I stretched my fingers into the curls at his nape, knowing I’d only sampled the appetizers. Yum.
He crowded me against the wall, his hips holding me in check while his hands ran down my sides and back up to encircle my breasts through my cashmere sweater. I pushed back, arching into his caress. Heat shot through me and my nipples hardened, abraded by soft wool and his fingers.
I sucked Gray’s tongue into my mouth. My pulse beat harder. I pulled his shirt free. His muscles rippled as I touched his smooth skin. I tasted the salt, inhaling a stronger soap scent than previously. My hands slipped to his back, exploring the planes and dips there. Unable to resist, I reached for his butt. His muscled ass remained one of the Christmas gifts I hoped to unwrap, soon.
In the spirit of holiday giving, I’m sure, Gray lifted my sweater up over my head. Air hit my damp silk blouse and I shivered. Gray slowly loosened the first button, slightly spreading the material. Then he nipped and licked the newly exposed skin. He repeated the action with the second button, a little slower that time. Lick, repeat. Lick, repeat. When he arrived at the final button, I’d moved past squirming to undulations with moans and weak knees.
Death Under the Mistletoe Page 6