by Cynthia Eden
Her gaze swung to Davis. “Cut? You’re saying that you think someone did this? It was no accident?”
“I was with you when you packed up. I saw you double-check the stove, the heater...everything was safe. The fire marshal will be able to tell us the cause once he investigates fully, but, for the place to go up like this—” his right hand gestured back to the blackened house “—and for the alarm not to go off, right after some jerk tried to break in to your place...” His lips thinned. “No, my gut is sure saying it wasn’t an accident.”
And her gut clenched painfully.
“He probably came back later, once he thought the coast was clear. Maybe he set the fire to cover up the robbery. The guy could have thought he’d cover his tracks that way.”
She’d had a TV in there, not one that was top of the line, but still a good TV. A computer, a DVD player, an e-reader. It could have been a robbery.
Jamie shivered. Or it could have been something else.
Has he found me? It had been so long. She’d thought she was safe. No, she’d just hoped that she was.
“Jamie?” Davis brushed his fingers over her arm. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
She didn’t trust others easily. After what she’d been through, Jamie knew that trust was a mistake but... Should I tell him?
She just didn’t know. Jamie straightened her shoulders. “Excuse me, I want to go and talk with the fire marshal.”
She wanted to see if there was anything at all that could be salvaged from the wreckage. Or if she’d just lost every bit of her home. She hurried forward and...
A photo was on the ground. Not near the house. Not burned by the fire. Just lying there.
Jamie bent and picked it up. The sunlight poured down on her, so she could easily see the image. Her. Smiling. Happy. So long ago.
Jamie shoved the photo into her pocket even as she tried to blink away tears. That photo shouldn’t have been outside. She’d put it on her nightstand. The photo was the only thing she’d brought from her old life. It should have been in the house. It wasn’t worth stealing. It wasn’t...
I don’t think someone came to rob me. I think someone came to hurt me.
And if that was the case, then she was going to have to tell Davis. She’d have to tell him the darkest secrets of her life.
Chapter Three
Jamie was back at the McGuire ranch, and this time, she wasn’t there for some sort of celebration. She’d lost nearly everything she owned—everything but the overnight bag she’d brought with her when she’d slept at the guesthouse. Everything else had been gone in an instant.
“You’ll stay with me,” Davis said as he paced in front of her. They were at the main house, not the guesthouse. He’d brought her back there after she’d spent hours staring at the wreckage of her home, looking for answers. Finding none. “You’ll be safe here and—”
“I can afford a hotel room, you know.” She stood a few feet away from him, her hands at her sides. “And I’ve got insurance on the house. I’ll be fine, really.”
Silence.
Jamie glanced over and met Davis’s stare. Do it. “But there is something I need.” The reason she’d agreed to travel back to the ranch with him. So they could talk. Alone. She braced herself because she hated going back to her past. There just didn’t seem to be a choice right then. “I want to hire you.”
His dark brows rose.
“Everyone in the area knows just how good the McGuire Securities firm is.” She’d learned all of the background on their PI business long ago. When the cops hadn’t succeeded in finding their parents’ killers, Davis and his brothers had formed their own private investigation firm. They’d been making a name for themselves not just in Texas, but in the entire South and along the East Coast, as well. Each of the McGuire brothers had served in the military, and they were putting that training to use in a different capacity— hunting, privately. Hunting killers. Stalkers.
She could sure use his deadly skills right then.
“The police are going to search for the robber.” He spoke slowly. “I know you probably don’t have much faith in those uniforms, but—”
“You were right,” Jamie said, cutting him off. “I do have secrets. And I need to make sure that one of those secrets isn’t coming back to hurt me.” Again. During the ride back to his place, she’d weighed her options. She’d tried to think of alternatives, but she didn’t have many.
Davis. He’s my best bet.
He walked toward her. His steps were slow, oddly graceful. Kind of like a big jungle cat, stalking his prey.
“If it’s just a robber, some guy who torched my place because he didn’t want to leave fingerprints behind...” She laughed and the sound was bitter. “I’d be grateful for that.”
She and Davis were alone in the house. Jamie had caught sight of his twin when they’d arrived—Brodie had been at the stables. She hadn’t wanted to share this story with anyone but Davis. Just telling him was hard enough.
But I have to be sure. I have to know...
“I wasn’t always Jamie Myers,” she said. “I used to be someone else. Someone with an entirely different life. My name was Jamie Bridgeton.”
He didn’t speak. Didn’t push her. Just stared. Waited.
She bit her lower lip. She’d never told anyone else this story. “I made a mistake—a long time ago. The worst mistake I’d ever made. That mistake cost me the life I’d known.”
“What did you do?”
There was no judgment from him. But then, he didn’t understand.
“I trusted the wrong man. Fell in love with the wrong boy. Henry Westport.” But he’d seemed so perfect. She’d known him for years. Gone to school with him. Grown up with him. She should have seen the darkness in him, but...
She hadn’t. Not until it was too late.
“I was seventeen when it happened.” She turned away from him because Jamie didn’t want to look in Davis’s eyes when she told him this. The pain was still too raw. “Seventeen when I realized that he was being too controlling. That he was trying to cut everyone else out of my life. Seventeen when I told him goodbye, for the first time.” Her hand lifted and rubbed against her side. The wound didn’t hurt. None of the wounds hurt, not anymore. But they were still there, silent reminders.
They always would be.
“I broke up with him.” It was easier to talk without looking at Davis. And she could almost imagine that the story she was telling was about someone else. Another girl. Not me. That couldn’t have happened to me. “I ended things with him, and the next day...he broke into my bedroom. He stabbed me six times.”
“What?”
There was such fury in that one word, such desperate fury that she spun around. Davis hadn’t moved. Not so much as a step, but his eyes glittered with his rage.
“The police arrested him. I got stitched up.” She paused, recalling those drug-filled hours in the hospital. “I thought it was over.” A nightmare, gone. “But...” This was the part that shamed her. That hurt her. “But my father’s business had recently suffered a...rather substantial loss. And Henry’s dad, he was quite wealthy. I didn’t even realize the deal had been struck, not at first.” Maybe she hadn’t wanted to believe it. “But suddenly, the DA was saying that Henry would get counseling. He was only seventeen, too, see...he was actually a few months younger than me. He was going to get counseling because he was so troubled. Troubled...” She repeated the word, frowning a bit now, as she had then. Troubled just didn’t seem to cover things for her. Troubled... He’d broken into her house. Stabbed her as he screamed that no one else could have her. That she was meant to be with him. That she’d always see that.
I’ll make you see, Jamie!
If her brother hadn’t burst into the room, Henry would have killed h
er.
She swallowed. “Weeks later, I found out that my father had gotten a rather substantial settlement from Henry’s family. Not a payoff—my father assured me it wasn’t a payoff. He said he talked with the DA and agreed to a plea because it was in my best interest. I mean...why go to court? Why subject myself to a nasty trial?” Her father’s words felt unnatural coming out of her mouth. “Henry was obviously sick, so he should get treatment. I should move on...college waited. The future waited.” He’d said those things to her, and they had been like nails, driving beneath her skin. No, not nails. Like Henry’s knife. She’d been numb when her father talked to her. Numb. Jamie remembered asking one thing... When will he get out, Dad?
Her father hadn’t told her.
Later, she’d learned it didn’t matter.
“What happened next?” Davis’s voice was so rough that she flinched. He exhaled on a hard sigh. “I didn’t mean... Jamie, look at me.”
She did.
“Do you trust me?”
I trusted the wrong man before.
“Because I think you do. I think that’s why you’re telling me this story.”
She shook her head. “I don’t actually trust anyone.” She didn’t make that mistake. “But I need to hire you. I need to know...” Tell him the rest. “Henry came after me again. Months later. I was just about to start college, and he found me.”
Davis was still staring into her eyes.
“He had a gun this time.” Her hand slid into her pocket. Closed around the picture there. A picture of her and her brother. “My brother, Warren, was there with me. He fought Henry. Told me to run, but I—I couldn’t just leave my brother. I loved him.” So she’d stayed. She’d grabbed for that gun.
“Henry shot my brother. He was going to shoot me.” Her breath chilled her lungs. “But the campus police arrived. They took him away. By the time he was even at lockup, his parents were there, talking about his psychotic break. Saying they’d get him the best therapy. That he’d be better.” She pulled out the photo. Stared at the image of her brother. “My brother was on an operating room table, fighting for his life.”
Davis reached out and took the picture from her.
“I went to the police station. I wanted to make sure Henry didn’t just get therapy this time.” She licked lips that had gone so dry. “He told me...screamed at me...that I wouldn’t get away from him. That he’d find a way to keep me. That he’d kill anyone who came between us, the same way he’d killed my brother.”
The pain clawed through her, tearing at her insides. There was a very good reason why she didn’t talk about the past. It hurt far too much.
“Jamie?”
“My brother never made it off the operating room table. He died protecting me, and Henry was there at the police station, screaming that everyone else I loved would die, too. That he wasn’t going to stop. That he’d keep coming...” Her shoulders straightened.
“They locked him up?” Davis demanded. His voice was a rough growl.
“Psychotic break. All the shrinks agreed that he’d suffered one.” Jail isn’t the right place for my son. How many times had Garrison Westport said those words? “He was confined to a psychiatric facility—maximum security.”
I wanted to feel safe then. I tried...but it didn’t work. Jamie bit her lip, not wanting to tell him of the betrayal that followed. Maybe Davis didn’t need to know that part, not yet. So she glossed over it. “I couldn’t stay there forever. Sooner or later, he’d get out, and he’d come for me.”
That had been her fear. That she’d wake up again and find him standing over her, the knife gripped in his hand. “So I... I left. The US Marshals helped me. Maybe they just took pity on me. But I got set up with a new last name. A new life. And I thought that maybe I could be safe.” And that Henry would leave everyone else alone.
He shook his head. “You’ve been carrying all of this on your shoulders?”
“I would have kept carrying it, but that photo in your hand...it was on my nightstand. Framed. Somehow that photo escaped the flames.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You think it’s a message.”
“I’m scared he’s found me again. I—I need you to dig for me. That’s what you do, right? Dig for the truth? Please, I’ll pay anything, I just— I need to know if Henry has come for me again. I need to know if I have to run again. If I—”
He caught her hand in his. “You aren’t running.”
Easy for him to say. He didn’t have this particular demon on his trail.
“I’ll find out what’s happening,” Davis vowed, “but promise you won’t run.”
That wasn’t a promise she could make.
And, obviously, he must have read that truth on her face because Davis said, “Give me a few days. Let me figure out what’s happening.”
“A few days.” That was all she’d agree to right then. Because if Henry was in the area, if he’d managed to find her again...
She would run as far as necessary.
* * *
“AND THAT’S HER STORY,” Davis said as he propped his back against the wall and stared at his brothers. Brodie let out a low whistle while Sullivan, the youngest brother in the family, just shook his head.
“She wants us to find out who set that fire,” Davis continued. “And I told her we’d take the case.”
Sullivan rolled back his shoulders. “It could have just been some punk trying to cover his tracks after he robbed the place. I mean, that picture could have just blown out during the commotion. We don’t know it’s that guy from her past, Henry—”
“Henry Westport.”
“We don’t know it’s him yet. And if it’s not, we sure don’t want to do anything to tip the guy off to Jamie’s current location,” Sullivan added as his gaze turned contemplative. “If the guy has moved on, the last thing you want is him to suddenly get fixated on her again. Before we move in on him, I’ll do some digging. See what I can find out about the man and his recent movements. If he’s in the area, I’ll have that info within twenty-four hours.”
He’d known that he could count on his brothers. Always.
“She’ll stay here until then,” Brodie said, nodding as if that were a given. “With the new security enhancements we put in, this is the best place for her.”
Damn straight. She’d mentioned going to a hotel. His first thought on that had been...hell, no. She’d be far too exposed at one of the local hotels. Davis needed her close by, so that he could keep an eye on her. He just— I need her close.
“Is there anything else we need to know about this case?” Sullivan asked as he strolled toward the window and peered out.
“I’ve told you everything she said to me.”
Sullivan kept staring out the window. What was he looking at? Frowning, Davis crossed the room until he was at his brother’s side. Then he looked through the window and saw Jamie. She was standing near the stables. The light hit her hair, turning it even brighter as it tumbled over her shoulders.
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Sullivan said simply.
Davis’s jaw locked. His gaze cut to Sullivan. Yes, he recognized that heat in his blood for the jealousy that it was. Back off, brother.
“I’m just wondering...” Sullivan murmured. “If this case might be personal.” He jerked his thumb toward a silent Brodie. “Lately, I swear you guys have a tendency to make every damn case we take personal. I turn around, and someone’s in love or getting hitched. It’s starting to make me twitchy.”
“Jerk,” Brodie tossed out. “Jennifer and I were involved long before her case. I just didn’t tell you that because I’m not the kiss-and-tell type.”
Sullivan smirked. “Right.”
Brodie’s eyes narrowed.
Sullivan didn’t look as if he cared about the whit
e-hot glare Brodie was sending his way. He glanced back at Davis. “So I’m just curious. Is this a strictly business case or is it more?”
Davis thought about the way Jamie had felt when they’d kissed. How perfectly she’d fit into his arms. Then he thought about the rage that had ignited inside of him when he’d heard about her past. “It’s more.”
Sullivan’s jaw dropped. “What? No, man, hell, no, I was just ragging on you! I was just—”
“She’s a friend to this family. There’s no way this is just business with a friend.” But he wanted Jamie to be more than a friend. How much more, well, that remained to be seen. Now that he knew about her past, he’d have to tread carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her but...
I’ve been standing in the shadows too long. Watching, waiting for the perfect moment to approach her. But every time he’d gotten close in the past, he’d been tongue-tied when he neared her. Hell, he usually had a line ready for anyone or anything. But when Jamie looked at him with her big, blue eyes, he got a little lost.
I am in such trouble.
“Friend...” Sullivan drew that one word out until it seemed to stretch for three syllables. “Not lover?”
Now Davis was glaring at him. “Just work the case. Just—”
“This is about the case,” Sullivan fired back. Sullivan “Sully” was an ex-marine. And though he was the youngest brother, lately Davis had started to realize that the guy had the hardest edge in the family. The deaths of their parents had completely altered Sully. A dark intensity seemed to cling to him like a second skin. “If you’re involved with a woman who happens to have a psychotic ex, what do you think that does to you?” His eyes sharpened. “It makes you a target. It makes you a man in that guy’s way.”
If it meant that he’d be keeping Jamie safe, then Davis would gladly step right into her stalker’s path.
“Are you sleeping with her?” Sullivan asked bluntly.
Davis lunged for the guy. Others might be afraid of Sullivan, but he never would be. Sully was still his younger brother, even if they were the same height, and Sullivan had about fifteen pounds on him. So Davis grabbed the guy and shoved him against the nearest wall. “Respect,” he gritted out. “That woman has been through hell. You will treat her with respect. I know you’re going through something right now—something you’re not telling any of us.”