by Kelly, Leslie; Kelly, Leslie; Kelly, Leslie; Kelly, Leslie
She would. She’d call. Soon. And hopefully she would not go to jail for waiting two hours to report it. Or for moving the corpse.
“Is that Manny?” Zach asked. “He a drinker or something?”
Holly glanced down the remaining steps, following Zach’s puzzled stare. She’d been so focused on Zach’s completely unexpected protective streak that she hadn’t noticed the living room door was standing open. Or that three people had apparently just walked through it. The trio made an odd procession as they headed down the short corridor that led to the kitchen and the private wing of the house.
Holly could only shake her head in disbelief as she watched the three of them disappear behind another swinging door. Because they weren’t hard to recognize—one was her grandfather, one Reggie.
And the third, whose feet hadn’t exactly been moving as they’d disappeared from view, was the dead guy.
Chapter Eight
“What are they doing?” she murmured, watching her maid, her grandfather and the dead man disappear down a first-floor hallway.
“Looks like they’re just helping your grandfather’s friend.”
Why she should find it so surprising, Zach didn’t know. The only thing he knew for sure after their tour through Holly’s family inn was this: she was desperate to make this place a success. With every step they’d taken, Zach had grown more aware of Holly’s anxiety. She had grown so pale she looked like she’d been doused with powder. And she kept reaching up to shove her hair back—a nervous habit she clearly hadn’t outgrown. And he was pretty sure that her mood had nothing to do with him.
Too bad. Because his tension was primarily due to her. To her nearness and the sweet, cinnamon scent of her hair. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d felt pressed tightly against his body, the way her mouth had tasted, the brush of her soft skin against his rough cheek.
Every thought was colored with memory, shaded with the thoughts of the past. To the way she’d blown him away with her smile that first time they’d met, and how his heart had broken for her when she’d had to deal with her screwed-up parents and the problems they’d dumped on her since she was a little kid. He’d wanted to take care of her, to make her happy. And she’d been the same way—keeping him sane when his dad had died suddenly while Zach was away at college.
Holly had made him believe in all that love-and-happily-ever-after stuff that girls had always seemed to talk about and guys had always seemed to laugh at. At nineteen, she’d made him believe in it.
No one else had. Not before. Not since.
“Holly,” he whispered, leaning closer, “This…we…”
He didn’t finish, he didn’t know how to finish. God, he’d been back in her company for less than two hours and he ached to touch her. Maybe that wasn’t too surprising. He didn’t think there had been a time in the past eight years since they’d broken up that he hadn’t wanted her.
He’d never imagined he’d get another chance to feel the silk of her skin against his—until today, when he’d knocked on the door to a country inn and seen her open it.
“I, uh, I guess that’s about it,” she mumbled. “You should know enough to tell your crew what to shoot.”
This TV spotlight had to be critical to her—which meant she was going to be extremely pissed when she found out he wasn’t here to do it.
But she wouldn’t be half as mad as he would be at himself if he left and anything happened to her. If a desperate thief who’d killed a guard to escape thought Holly was in his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her. And there was no way Zach would let that happen.
So he didn’t tell her who he really was. Not yet. When this TV crew showed up and there were plenty of people around, he’d slip away and call Mark Santori, his detective friend from Chicago, tipping him to Fred Kipling’s possible presence here. And try to find out if there was any word on Kipling’s partner, Leo “Teenie” Meaney. Because if Kipling was here, where was Teenie? And what was so important about Holly’s tree?
There was only one way to find out. “Maybe they’re finished with the tree.”
“I hope so. I couldn’t believe it when I came downstairs this morning and realized the first one was ruined.”
“What happened?” he asked as they reached the first floor and turned toward the living room.
“The only corner big enough for it is by the radiator, which we normally turn off. But Grandpa apparently forgot last night and when I came down this morning, the thing had lost most of its needles like a dog shaking off water after a bath.”
He chuckled. “So you went out this morning and bought another one?”
Stopping in front of the now-decorated tree, she nodded, focusing on the new evergreen. It looked beautiful—not at all thrown-together. “Yes. Reggie stayed here and undecorated the old one while I ran down to town and bought the first big tree I could find.”
He glanced at the pretty bows, the red and gold ornaments and tiny crystal ones reflecting the twinkling lights. “You were lucky to find such a nice one this close to Christmas.”
“I didn’t even look at it, just asked the guy at the lot if he had any freshly cut twelve footers left and handed him cash as soon as he said yes.” Her voice trailed away as she reached up to carefully shift a tiny angel. “It’s okay,” she added, low, almost to herself. “Everything’s going to be okay. We just have to get through another few hours.”
He hated the sound of her desperation. “Things are really bad with the inn, aren’t they?”
She opened her mouth, her eyes flashed, and he knew Holly was about to make a vehement denial. But when she noticed the compassion he made no effort to hide, she admitted, “yes, they are. This story you’re doing is our last shot at making this place work. We stand to lose my grandfather’s house.”
That weariness—the slump in her shoulders and the fatalistic tone in her voice—hit Zach harder than any two tons of guilt ever had. He suddenly found himself unable to continue the deception. Holly deserved to know the truth, at the very least so she could prepare for the arrival of the real news crew.
“Holly, I have to tell you something.”
The words were there, on his lips, but before he could utter them, a loud sound interrupted them. It came from somewhere else in the house.
And it sounded very much like a scream.
Chapter Nine
Holly didn’t hesitate. As soon as she heard her grandmother’s scream coming from the direction of the inn’s kitchen, she took off running, Zach hot on her heels.
It was only after she skidded to a stop at the entrance to that room at the back of the house that she realized why her grandmother might have been screaming. It very likely had something to do with the dead guy who’d fallen out of the Christmas tree. The one reporter Zach Weldon couldn’t find out about.
“Maybe you should wait here,” she said to him.
His disbelieving expression was his only answer to that suggestion.
Not knowing how to forcibly keep him away, Holly carefully pushed open the swinging door, trying to peek around it. Zach, however, was having none of that. He pushed it all the way in and burst inside, his gaze darting around the large, country kitchen, peering suspiciously into every corner.
Fortunately, there was no corpse laid out on the table, or hidden behind a trellis of house plants by the window. No sight of the dead guy at all.
“Everything okay?” Holly asked.
“Why, of course it is,” Grandfather said, his lips twitching in amusement. He would, of course, find this whole thing incredibly funny. Given his background as an Army medic and Nana’s as a nurse, they were probably the last people who’d be shocked by a corpse floating around the inn.
Besides, their favorite movie was Weekend at Bernie’s, followed in close second by the film version of Clue.
So she had no doubt they were enjoying the hell out of this. Even though the tension had Holly ready to either scream or throw up.
Her grand
parents sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, looking completely at ease. Beside the stove, stirring a large pot of fragrant apple cider, was Regina.
“Who screamed?” Zach asked in blunt concern.
“Screamed? What are you talking about?” Regina wasn’t a very good actress. Fortunately, her black-ringed eyes looked very small from across the room. Hopefully Zach couldn’t see the way they were frantically shifting, as if she wanted to find the closest exit and go.
“Somebody screamed,” he insisted.
Nana cleared her throat, smiling sheepishly. “I am afraid I may have…yelped a bit.”
Yelped. Riiiigght.
“I was just startled, you see, when I opened the door to the old pantry.” The elderly woman gave Holly a look of warning. “There was a big mouse in there.”
Oh God. They’d put the corpse in the pantry. Right now, a dead guy was cozying up to Mr. Clean and inhaling Clorox.
The dead don’t inhale, stupid. She was losing it. Just out and out losing it.
But there was one silver lining. Thankfully, they used the old pantry as a cleaning closet and it contained only household supplies. If there’d been any food in there, Holly would be looking at a big run to the dump. And a huge bill at the market.
Her grandmother was so angelic looking, the classic, textbook little old lady. Anybody would fall for that delicate smile, that kindly expression.
Anybody except Zach Weldon.
Because the guy who’d already proven himself intuitive enough to realize Holly still wanted him now showed he could spot a phony. Holding Nana’s stare for one long moment, he suddenly swung around and stalked across the kitchen to the pantry door.
“No!” Four voices shrieked in unison.
But he ignored them and yanked open the door.
Chapter Ten
Something odd was going on with Holly’s elderly grandparents and that kooky maid, but Zach had pretty much given up on the idea that a dangerous criminal was hiding out here, waiting to retrieve whatever he’d hidden in the Christmas tree Holly had brought home this morning. So when he opened the door to the pantry in Holly Cavanaugh’s Inn, he didn’t really expect to see one of them.
Boy was he wrong.
“Oh my God,” he said, immediately recognizing the man from the photos splattered all over the news recently.
If he’d thought he was about to come face to face with a dangerous jewel thief, he’d have at least grabbed something to use as a weapon. Fortunately, though, the guy in the pantry—who he knew was Leo “Teenie” Meaney—didn’t appear armed or particularly dangerous.
In fact, he didn’t look particularly… “Holy shit. He’s dead.”
“I can explain,” said Holly, coming to stand with him in the pantry, half-closing the door behind her.
Zach couldn’t take his eyes off the body lying on the floor of the pantry, tucked neatly between a mop-laden bucket and an industrial-sized bottle of floor wax. “They did come up here after the tree,” he whispered.
Holly tilted her head in confusion. “What?” Shaking his head slowly, trying to clear his brain of the image of the dead little thug in the closet, Zach finally managed to look away. Holly’s pale face, wide eyes and quivering mouth caused something to twist deep inside him.
He reacted instinctively, reaching for her, pulling her close. She hesitated for the briefest of moments, then melted against him, letting him support her.
He suspected—just like when they’d been together—she rarely had anyone else to do it.
“What happened, Holly?” Zach murmured, whispering into her hair as he continued holding her. The door of the pantry blocked them from the view of the others in the kitchen and he kept his voice low. “Did you…have to defend yourself?” The very thought of it made him shake with fury, but he maintained his calm, knowing somebody had to in this crazy house.
He’d finally realized just how insane it was. Now he knew who had been sitting beside Holly’s grandfather in the living room. And who that grandfather and the maid had been supporting as they’d walked here to the kitchen.
They’d been playing a game of hide-and-seek with a body since the moment he’d arrived.
“No, it was nothing like that,” she said. Holly pulled back a little, rubbing a weary hand over her eyes. “He was dead when he got here.”
Hmm. FedEx’d corpse?
Holly explained, leaving the pantry as she spoke, as if unable to stand the sight of the dead man. When he learned that Leo Meaney had tumbled from her enormous, bound evergreen like some kind of sick present straight out of The Nightmare Before Christmas, he didn’t know whether to laugh or groan.
One thing quickly became clear, though—Kipling, Meaney’s partner, hadn’t gone back to the tree lot looking for the diamonds they’d stolen together. He’d returned for the partner he’d obviously killed.
“Why didn’t you call the police immediately?”
Her wide eyes, so tired and confused as she’d told him about her morning, suddenly shifted. Her hands twisting in front of her and her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth, she softly admitted, “I’m going to. After you and your crew finish the story on the inn.”
Zach simply stared, his jaw falling open. Holly tilted her head, her chin up, almost defiant as she dared him to criticize her. Glancing toward her elderly grandparents, both watching with trepidation and anxiety, he remembered just how much this family had at stake today. From the sound of it, if they didn’t get some publicity—the good kind, not some involving dead bodies—they could very well lose this home. The home Holly’s grandfather had lived in his entire life.
Catch twenty-two. Damn.
He knew enough about law enforcement to know they should call the police right now, this very second.
But could he do that to Holly’s grandparents? To her?
Chapter Eleven
“All right. I’ll help you,” Zach Weldon said. “But only until after the crew leaves. Then we call the police immediately.”
Holly couldn’t believe it. She’d been prepared for Zach’s anger when she told him she’d been hiding a dead body. And though she’d seen all those emotions on Zach’s handsome face, he was now offering to do something crazy—illegal even.
He was going to help her.
“Are you serious?”
“I’ll probably regret it,” he admitted, “but yes, I’m serious.”
The college freshman who’d broken her heart probably would have done exactly what he wanted to do—call the police—no matter who it hurt. Just as he’d done what he wanted the night they had split up and slept with the first girl who’d give it up to him.
But she could tell that this Zach was different. The warm, sympathetic expression on his face when he gazed at her near-homeless grandparents said how much he’d changed. He’d been a sexy, cute, charming guy the first time she’d fallen in love with him.
Now he was a blazingly sexy, handsome, thoughtful man who was willing to, uh, bend the law in order to help her.
Zach’s unexpected kindness didn’t just make her melt a little—it made the quietly banked inferno of desire inside her erupt until she was nearly engulfed by the flames.
She’d wanted him from the moment he’d shown up at her door.
Now Holly knew she was going to take him.
“Thank you, Zach.” Unable to resist, Holly lifted her arms to encircle his broad shoulders and pressed against him in a quick, grateful hug. Only, it wasn’t exactly quick. He dropped his hands to her hips, holding her against him. For a long, heady moment, she forgot about the others in the room—or the corpse in the pantry—and enjoyed being in his arms again.
The embrace he’d offered when he’d discovered the body had been one of comfort and concern. This was different. Though to the others it might appear to be strictly gratitude, both she and Zach knew it was more. He had to feel the way her heart was pounding out of her chest, had to hear her choppy breaths near his ear. Had to know that she was not
only grateful, she was also very attracted to him. Just as she’d always been.
And judging by the ridge of heat she could feel against her thighs, he felt the same way.
When her grandfather cleared his throat, Holly finally remembered where they were and who was watching. She let Zach go, but didn’t step away. Instead, she turned around, blocking most of his body from view.
Considering the guy was hard for her and her grandmother had eyes like a hawk, it was the least she could do.
With Holly in his arms, the soft curves of her body pressing against his, Zach had almost been able to forget they weren’t alone. His cock certainly had. His brain, however, kicked back into gear, noting the way Holly provided a visible barrier between his tented pants and the others in the room.
“Okay, we can do this,” Holly said, her voice shaky.
“But nobody touches the body again.” Thrusting a frustrated hand through his hair, Zach added, “Who knows how much evidence you have already destroyed….”
Holly swung back around. “Evidence?”
“Yeah. The police are going to be looking for evidence to solve his murder.”
Her shocked gasp told him she hadn’t considered that.
“What, did you think he just had a heart attack and fell into the nearest Christmas tree?”
Her cheeks went pink. “Not exactly. We figured it was more of a…a…”
“An industrial accident,” offered the maid.
Industrial accident. Sure. Given the identity of the victim, the only work-related death he could experience was being shot by the police during a robbery.
But Holly and her family couldn’t know that. So it was time for him to reveal exactly who was lying on the floor of their pantry and why he was there. And who might be looking for him.
There was also one additional matter he had to clear up. She still thought he was the reporter doing the inn-saving story for the travel show. He only hoped she’d understand when he told her why he’d kept the truth from her.