Pledged To Protect Complete Box Set: Three Romantic Suspense Romances

by Vella Day

  “You’re coming back, right?”

  He smiled and a little bit of her melted. “Wouldn’t consider otherwise.”

  17

  Derek rapped a little too hard on Stefanie’s door, but his frustration level had been escalating since the moment he’d left Justin’s office. “It’s me.”

  Kelly pulled the door open wide. Her eyes were red, and she looked as if a one hundred pound weight sat on her shoulders. Guilt swamped him. He should have stayed to help her get through the emotional ordeal of packing her sister’s things. Crap. He didn’t seem to be able to do anything right where Kelly was concerned.

  “Hey, what did you find out?” She looked as if she were fighting more tears and another breakdown.

  His arms itched to hold her and tell her everything would be all right.

  “He wasn’t there. Justin was a no show at work this morning too. His boss didn’t have a clue where he was.”

  She turned and walked back to the dining room table acting as if it didn’t matter that their prime suspect had disappeared. She finished wrapping a plate in newspaper, the sound of the crinkling paper louder than it needed to be.

  “Did you try his cell?” she asked. Her tone sounded casual, but he could hear her fighting for control.

  “His boss called his home and his cell. No answer.”

  She placed the plate carefully in a box. “He could be sick and not answering.” He couldn’t tell if there was hope in her voice or not.

  “I thought of that too, so I went to his house, but he wasn’t there.”

  She whipped around, worry creasing her brows. Finally, there was a reaction. “Are you going to put out an APB on him or something?”

  He took a step toward her, his hands extended. He waited a second before answering, hoping she’d step into his arms.

  She didn’t move. Damn. “If only it were that simple. Without evidence to back up the request, I can’t issue an APB.”

  “Oh.”

  Her disappointment sent a flood of concern through him. Kelly was strong, but how much more could she take? Damn it. He should have made up some story about Justin being away on business.

  He took another step, closing the gap between them. When she looked up at him with those deep green eyes, he lost control. Almost as if they were positive and negative magnets, he pulled her to his chest. Damn the consequences to his heart. He didn’t care if she told him to go to hell. He needed to hold her, touch her, feel her silky skin against his. Every curve of her body molded against his in perfect proportion. Like always.

  He liked how the top of her curly hair tickled his chin, and for a moment, he let himself enjoy the lemon scent of her shampoo. Her body relaxed in his arms, as if she’d been waiting all day to have a shoulder to lean on.

  Kelly leaned back and looked up. The temptation to kiss her rattled him. He stepped away. “Let me help you pack.”

  She shook her head and looked down at the carpet. “I think I’ve done all the packing today I can handle. It’s hard boxing up Stef’s possessions.”

  He didn’t want to think about having to do the same for Rayne’s things. “What will you do with all of the files?” He motioned toward the stack of folders in neat piles on the table. Speaking of cardboard and paper was a lot easier than discussing emotions.

  She bit the inside of her cheek. “I guess I’ll keep them for the time being. I’ll never know when they’ll give us a clue.” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I’ve called Goodwill to come for her furniture and clothes, but I’m keeping a few things. To, ah, help me remember.”

  He cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her cheek. “I know what you mean. I have to clean out Rayne’s place pretty soon, but I want Billy to be there to help.”

  She swallowed. Hard. “I gather he’s not ready.”

  “No.”

  Kelly straightened. When her gaze shot right and then left, Derek clasped her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She dropped her head and nibbled on her lip. “I...I found a folder on Justin.” Derek’s body went on full alert. “Did you know he was arrested for murder when he lived in Utah?”

  His heart sped up. “And you didn’t tell me right away?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Do you think Justin killed Stef?”

  She’d reached her emotional limit, which meant he had to be careful. “Maybe, maybe not. Let me see what you found.” Derek kept his voice as soft as possible.

  Kelly stepped over to the table, picked up several yellowed and somewhat tattered newspaper articles and handed them to him.

  Derek scanned them quickly. The first one dated back some twenty years. He decided to read the first one out loud as he paced the small living room. “Bobby Novaro was killed Thursday night in Silverton from a gunshot wound to his chest. Justin Bladen was arrested for the murder. Holy shit.” He looked up at her. “That wasn’t in there. The holy shit part.” He thought he caught a quick smile. “While a blood-stained jacket with Novaro’s blood was found in the trashcan next to the Bladen’s house, the case was dismissed after Bladen proved he was elsewhere during the commission of the crime.” Derek scanned the rest of the article, but nothing of interest appeared.

  Alibis. The man seemed full of them.

  “I can’t remember. Does it say if the murderer was ever found?” Kelly asked, running a finger under her nose.

  “No.”

  She wrung her hands. “Do you think Justin is guilty of killing Stef and Rayne?”

  “Not if we believe he was asleep at his boss’s house when they were murdered.”

  “I never believe in ironclad alibis. Too many people cover for guilty people.”

  Derek raised a brow. “Since when did you become a detective? Or a cynic for that matter?”

  A red blotch stained her cheeks. “I’m a big CSI fan.”

  He couldn’t help but raise his eyes to the heavens and groan. “Isn’t everyone?” Though, truth be told, he enjoyed seeing some life come to her face.

  She drew back her shoulders. “So what do we do now?”

  He wasn’t ready to deal with the look of aggression in her eyes. “We don’t do anything. I’m going to Utah to see if I can get any dirt on Justin. I remember Rayne mentioning that Justin’s mother was still alive. Even though the two don’t speak anymore, she might provide a clue as to his whereabouts. His mom could still live in Silverton. I want to pay her a visit.”

  “I’ll go with you,” she said.

  “No way. It’s too dangerous.” He held her shoulders lightly. “This isn’t a vacation, Kelly.”

  Her jaw clenched. “I think it’s a hell of lot more dangerous staying here, don’t you think? There’s a killer on the loose, or did you forget?”

  She pushed away. Derek wanted to shake her and kiss her at the same time. “It never leaves my mind.”

  Her body relaxed. “If Justin finds out you’ve gone to investigate his past, and he really is in Tampa, he might come after me.”

  “That’s not his style. He’s a careful man.”

  “Careful, as in careful not to get caught, maybe.”

  She had a point. When Kelly wanted something, Kelly went after it. Like her medical degree. Like her research. Knowing her, she’d jump on a plane and follow him the moment he took off.

  “Fine. We’ll take the first flight out I can book, but you have to promise me one thing.”

  She nodded. “I know, I have to promise not to do anything stupid and do everything you say.”

  She strode up to him, and when she fingered the buttons on his shirt, fire shot straight to his groin, and he inwardly groaned. “Something like that. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  If he didn’t get away from her, he’d give into temptation.

  And that would cause some real danger.

  Justin reread the text message on his phone from his boss. “Police after U. Think U killed girlfriend –Winston.”

  He had to get some place safe. Damn Benally.
Why couldn’t the man believe that Rayne had killed herself?

  Justin checked his rear view mirror for the tenth time. “Shit.” Why now? He didn’t need the scrutiny. He’d been so confident he’d gotten away with it.

  He thought about calling Kelly and telling her he had nothing to do with her sister’s murder—or Rayne’s for that matter, but how could he convince her? Apparently, Benally didn’t think his alibi of being at Winston’s party was good enough.

  It was time to disappear. He’d done it often enough, but what a pain in the ass that was. He liked his job, liked the money he received. Now all of that would be gone. Fuck.

  The only safe place he could think of hiding was at his home in Odessa—the home he kept for his secret trysts. Not even his closest friends knew about it. Yes, it was expensive to rent a second home, but it was far enough out of Tampa that he could do whatever he wanted. Thank God there weren’t any nosy neighbors to complain if the noise became out of control either.

  After circling the block to make sure the police weren’t at his house, he pulled into the carport. A garage would have been nice, but this old heap didn’t have one and the owner was a stingy old bastard.

  Arriving in daylight wasn’t particularly smart, but he needed to shower and change.

  And to plan. He hadn’t been there in over a month and dreaded the stale air inside. As he put his key in the lock, the door nudged open. Justin froze. Had someone broken in? Why? There was nothing of value to take.

  He rushed inside and halted, straining to hear sounds of glass breaking or furniture cracking.

  Silence.

  The stack of books he’d tossed on the coffee table before he’d left the last time wasn’t there. He rushed toward his bedroom. The pile of laundry in the hallway? Gone too.

  “Hello?” Blood pounded in his ears.

  He didn’t expect anyone to answer, but if a burglar had been hiding, he wanted to give him a chance to escape. The last thing he needed was a mugging or a police report.

  Stepping softly into the kitchen from the hallway, Justin paused. While he remembered having washed the dishes, he’d stacked them in the drying rack. Now the counter was clean, and the drying rack gone.

  He checked the cupboards. The dishes were there. “Fuck.”

  Then he spotted a single piece of paper on the dining room table, neatly folded. Dread and hatred filled him until he nearly choked on his bile.

  “Noooo. It couldn’t be.” That bitch.

  He picked up the note. “They’re after you, and they’ll find you.” It was written in small, neat letters—letters he despised. He continued reading. “Or will you run away like you did before? Turn yourself in or I’ll take care of that girl you like.” An evil darkness crept down his spine.

  It wasn’t signed, but he knew who’d written the threat.

  Silverton, Utah

  “We appreciate you meeting with us,” Derek said, as he shook Officer Mariani’s plump hand. The deputy worked for the Sheriff’s department in Silverton, a small suburb an hour outside of Salt Lake City, Utah.

  Mariani motioned to the two chairs in front of his worn desk. A large evidence box sat on top, the frayed edges and many markings testifying to its age.

  “After I received your fax, I pulled the Novaro case. It’s been closed for almost twelve years.” He tapped the box.

  Derek nodded. “When we spoke on the phone, you mentioned Justin Bladen had been arrested for the murder.”

  “That’s right. The murder occurred before my time, mind you, and before DNA testing. We weren’t very sophisticated back then, but we did our best.”

  No apology in his eyes. Good. “What can you tell me?”

  Mariani twisted the ends of his long, black mustache, then glanced up as if reading the report off the ceiling. “We knew that Justin’s daddy had hanged himself the week before the murder. The suicide note said he lost his promotion to Novaro. Naturally, we suspected revenge from the Bladen family.”

  Neither Justin nor Rayne had mentioned his troubled background. Derek did some quick math. “Wouldn’t that put Justin at around seventeen or eighteen?”

  Mariani tapped the first page of the report. “Just had just turned eighteen. Such a shame for a boy that young to be involved in such a messy affair.”

  How true. “The department must have found some evidence to make the arrest.”

  “We found evidence all right—his high school letter jacket, but Justin had an airtight alibi. He was at a party that night. The Mayor’s daughter happened to be there too, though I don’t know why. She normally didn’t hang out with his crowd. She confirmed he was there all night.”

  The airtight alibi sounded too familiar. “Is his jacket in the box?”

  Mariani pulled out his desk drawer and gloved both hands. He lifted the lid on the cardboard box that sat like a Christmas present on his desk. Extracting the jacket from a paper bag, he placed it face up on the lid. “Look here. The blood has faded over time, but the victim’s blood was spattered all over the letters.” He tilted the evidence to give Derek a better view.

  “I read about that. You sure this jacket belonged to Justin?”

  “Yup. His name was embroidered on the back.” Mariani flipped over the jacket. “We found it in the garbage can outside his trailer. Lucky for us the trash man hadn’t picked up yet.”

  Derek leaned forward to get a good look at the item, but he didn’t touch the evidence. “Rather careless don’t you think to leave something so incriminating next to his own house?”

  “No one said murderers had to be smart.”

  Derek smiled. “You have a point. I trust you’ve done a DNA test on the jacket since then.”

  “Yes, a few years back. The blood belonged to Novaro all right, but we couldn’t get any other evidence off the jacket. We spoke with the mom who swears no one came near their place either before the murder or afterward.”

  Derek found her willingness to throw her son to the wolves a little strange. Mothers usually became mute when their child was in question. “You find any other evidence?”

  “Sure did.” Mariani dipped his hand into the magic box and withdrew a 9mm pistol with a tag dangling from the trigger. “This is the murder weapon. The bullet we extracted from Novaro’s body matched the gun.”

  “And I suppose you found the gun in the trash too.”

  He held up a finger. “According to the report, the gun was found in Justin Bladen’s gym bag—inside the house.”

  Derek studied Kelly. Her fingers were clenched on the arm of the chair. He bet she believed Justin killed Novaro, although he wouldn’t put it past the guy. How had his sister fallen for him? Or was he the innocent bystander he claimed?

  “How did he get off?” Kelly asked, her tone bitter.

  “Ma’am, the jacket and gun are circumstantial. We arrested the boy, but the girl, Courtney, swore he was at the party the whole time. She was a credible witness. We had no reason to suspect she lied.”

  Kelly looked up at Derek, silently pleading for him to interfere.

  “Does Courtney have a last name?” Derek asked.

  “March, but she’s Courtney Wolfendon now.”

  They might get a lead off her. “Does she still live around here?”

  “As a matter of fact, she does.”

  Finally, he had a break. He waited for Mariani to offer up the information, but the officer leaned back in his chair and seemed to study Derek.

  “Do you have her address by any chance?” Derek asked.

  Mariani glanced over his shoulder. “Say Carrie, can you get me the address of Courtney Wolfendon? Thanks.”

  Derek needed more. “Does it say how many other witnesses the officers spoke to at the party? Courtney could have been covering for him,” Derek said.

  Mariani cocked a brow. “We may be a small force, but the Sheriff’s Department always does a good job.”

  Now he’d done it. Pissing off Mariani would get him nowhere. “Sorry. I wasn’t imp
lying incompetence. I often forget to confirm alibis.”

  Like with Justin’s recent case. Damn it. Why had he taken the word of Justin’s boss? For all he knew, the two were in cahoots.

  Mariani twirled his mustache once more as if he needed time to chew on Derek’s apology. He picked up the report. “I understand. From what I could gather, back then the Mayor’s daughter was a good girl, not that she isn’t now, but she was class valedictorian and all. I don’t suppose the investigating officer suspected those two were a couple. Apparently he bought her story and didn’t look any further. Like I said, she had no reason to lie for him.” He ran a finger down the page. “It didn’t say if the officer, Ralph Winters, talked to anyone else, but I suspect he didn’t.”

  “Is Winters currently on the force?”

  Mariani shook his head. “No. He passed away about five years ago. Cancer.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You here to find Justin Bladen?”

  “Hopefully. He’s a suspect in a murder in Tampa.”

  “In Tampa, huh? And you think he’s in Silverton?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  Mariani cocked a brow. “Well, if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  Derek suspected Mariani knew more than he was telling. “What kind of kid was Justin Bladen?”

  Mariani shrugged. “Never met the kid. I only know what I’ve read in the report. He left town before I moved here.”

  Carrie stepped over to Mariani’s desk and handed him a piece of paper. “I attached a map so they could find their way to Courtney’s.” She turned to Derek. “It’s not far from here.”

  “I appreciate you going to all the trouble,” Derek said, and Carrie smiled.

  “I suggest you call her first,” Mariani said. “Courtney’s a bit touchy about the murder.”

  After twelve years? A red flag waved in his mind’s eye. “I appreciate the heads up. Do you have the home address of Justin Bladen’s mom by any chance?”

  Mariani flipped to the back page. “This might be old information, but they used live at 1342 West Sanders Road.” He pulled out a piece a paper from his drawer. “I’ll draw you a map to her place. I’m not as neat as Carrie here in the map-making department. The last time I ran into Mrs. Bladen must have been, oh, I’d have to say a year ago. People like her usually stay in one place though.”