by Vella Day
Dalton held her at arm’s length, his brows pinched. “Your college roommate?” She nodded. “Come sit down.” Dalton escorted her to the living room.
Just speaking those three terrible words unleashed the horror all over again. To make those images stop, she focused on his handsome face. Whereas she took after their mom with her fair skin and honey colored hair, Dalton had olive skin and medium brown hair like their dad. Their father had been way too handsome, and so was Dalton. “They call you Hollywood around here like they did back home?”
He grunted a response.
“Yup,” someone chimed in with a smile.
Whoa. She hadn’t even seen the other man there. Showed how stressed she was. While he wore the same sheriff’s department uniform as Dalton, this man had shoulder length light brown hair. Unless he was working undercover, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to keep that look at the LAPD.
Dalton squeezed her shoulder then let go, and the loss of support made her heart hitch.
“This is Kalan Murdoch, my partner at the department.”
Shake his hand, her inner voice nudged her. “Nice to meet you,” she said, finally remembering her manners. “Dalton has said nice things about you.”
The men exchanged glances. Apparently, Kalan was surprised by that comment. “Good to know.”
She was glad his partner was also a shifter. Even though she and Dalton had emailed back and forth every few weeks, he had never mentioned what kind of shifter Kalan was. That was most likely because Dalton had never mentioned his breed to Kalan.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Kalan asked, seemingly very comfortable in her brother’s house.
“How about a glass of wine?”
“You got it.” Kalan walked all of ten feet into the open kitchen situated on the wall opposite the front door. The living room was at the front of the house, and given there was a door on the west side of the room, she figured that was where the bedrooms were located. Dalton told her he’d rented the place furnished, and it showed. The owner had to be over eighty. The place had white walls, a brown sofa, two brown chairs, and a brown and black rug. The kitchen counter top was beige Formica, and the appliances looked tired.
“Here ya go.” Kalan handed her a glass of red wine.
“Thanks.” She sat on the sofa while Dalton, who looked cute in his brown uniform, sat across from her. Kalan took the other chair.
“Tell me what you know,” Dalton said, all evidence of compassion gone. He was in his cop mode—exactly where she needed him to be.
She went through the whole story about Dalia flying in for Renee’s bachelorette party, but that once Dalia took ill, she decided to skip the party and sleep. “I drove home a little after one, and as I neared my place, a gunshot sounded. Seconds later, a man wearing a mask rushed out of my house.”
“Did you notice anything distinctive about him?” Dalton asked, showing little emotion. He was, however, paying close attention to everything she said. Surprisingly, his attitude was comforting.
“He was a shifter, but he moved rather stiffly. At the time, I estimated him to be about fifty. As I followed him with my gaze, I was able to see the first three letters of his California license plate, but I didn’t tell the cops that fact for obvious reasons.”
“What were those letters?” Kalan asked as he slipped a pen and paper from his shirt pocket.
“RJC. The best I could tell, he was driving a maroon sedan. Sorry, I didn’t see the model. My head was spinning.” Dalton nodded while Kalan jotted down the information. “Here’s the odd thing. I think I know who he is.”
Kalan’s pen stopped. “You said he wore a mask.”
She inhaled, not really wanting to go through the horror of her father’s death again, but for Dalia, she had to. Starting with when she was six, she detailed what she remembered about that night. “As you know, my being a shifter means I can remember a person’s scent. When I smelled him again at the police department that morning, my heart jammed in my throat.”
Dalton held up a hand. “Wait a minute. You’re saying the man who murdered Dad was at the LAPD?”
“Yes. And he’s a detective.”
His brows pinched. “Are you sure?”
She couldn’t blame him for asking. She’d asked herself the same thing a hundred times. “He had the same crescent-shaped scar on his jaw.”
Dalton sat up straighter. “Do you think he knows you recognized him?”
At least her brother believed her. “I didn’t give any indication that I knew anything. I make a living keeping my expression blank.”
Kalan tossed down his pad. “I’m going to disagree that he doesn’t know. Think about it. You see him at say noon and your friend is murdered that night. Can you even be sure he didn’t think it was you? You said her back was to the door.”
Acid burned in her throat, but she wasn’t ready to believe that was true. “I can’t be sure of anything, but Dalia and I have the same colored hair and are about the same size. She was in the guest room.”
“He may not have realized that.”
“True.”
“You’re positive it was the same man who killed your father?” Kalan was demanding in his questions but kind at the same time.
A tight band squeezed her chest. “Yes. So maybe he did recognize me.” She guzzled half of her drink, and the smooth wine instantly helped calm her.
“You really haven’t changed all that much since you were six,” Dalton said.
Yes, she had. As Jillian was about to say she didn’t look anything like her six-year old self, a horrible idea occurred to her. “Shit. Maybe he’s kept tabs on me. If a six-year old were my only witness to murder, I’d want to know what she was up to.” Her chest constricted, making it hard to breathe.
Her brother moved next to her on the sofa and clasped her hand. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”
“I can’t stay here forever. I have a job. I’m here because I just couldn’t bring myself to remain in Los Angeles in case that creep came after me.”
“You were right to come here,” Dalton said.
Kalan leaned forward. “Did you use your credit card to pay for your airline tickets and your car rental?”
Anger and dread collided. “Yes. It was after two in the morning. It wasn’t like I could go to a bank and withdraw cash.” She came off sounding too defensive. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“No problem. You’ve been through a lot, but I had to ask. If this man’s a cop, he might trace your whereabouts.”
Her fingers weakened, and she set down her glass before she dropped it. “He knows I’m here then.” Neither man said anything. Sorting through her options, she discarded them one by one. “I couldn’t go to Mom’s house. If I were with her, he’d harm her too.” Their mother only lived ten miles from Jillian.
Kalan looked at Dalton briefly then back at her. “While I’ve never discussed this with Dalton, there is a shifter compound on the other end of town. Maybe you could find a place there to stay for a while.”
“Or she can stay here.” Dalton faced her. “Realize though that I’ll be gone all day and sometimes nights.”
She didn’t want to put anyone out. “I’ll stay in a hotel.”
“That isn’t wise. You can stay with me and my mate,” Kalan offered.
No way would she be a burden to anyone. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t. Elana is pregnant, and I can’t be home all the time to help her with things.” He held up a finger. “But don’t tell Elana I said that. She’d skin me alive. In the last few months, she’s become rather feisty, shall I say.” Kalan grinned.
Her pulse soared. Being able to help would take her mind off her worries, but she’d feel more at ease if his mate invited her. Having their first child was a highly personal thing. If she’d just mated, she wouldn’t want some stranger seeking refuge in her house. “When is she due?”
“Since this is Elana�
�s first child, we can’t be sure. The doctors say two weeks.”
She squeezed Dalton’s hand. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a good idea, but relocating will only be part of your problem.” He glanced back at Kalan. “Do you really want my sister to bring danger to your doorstep?”
He stabbed a hand through his hair. “No. You’re right. Sorry, Jillian.”
“Stay with me for a few days and we’ll look at your options,” Dalton said. “First thing though, you’ll have to return your rental car. I’m sure we can hook you up with something to drive while you’re here. And no using your credit card or your phone.”
The phone part she’d already figured out. “I’ll need money.”
Having a big savings account didn’t help if she couldn’t access it.
“I’ll lend you some. I know you’re good for it.”
“Unless I’m dead.” In that case though, he’d get everything. She turned to Kalan. “I would like to meet your mate if she’s up for it.”
Kalan smiled. “I’ll see if Elana wants to do a lunch in the next few days?”
Jillian could use a friend. “I’d like that.” She finished her glass of wine. “What I need right now is some food, a shower, and a good night’s sleep.”
Dalton smiled. “That we can do.”
Chapter Three
‡
During his break at the hardware store, Brian texted his sister, instructing her to let him know if she needed him to drive her to the hospital. Her due date was any day now, and if she couldn’t reach Kalan, Brian had offered to take her. He had let his boss know that he might have to leave at a moment’s notice, and to his delight, his boss was very understanding. He even told him to go whenever she called.
This store sure was nothing like where he used to work in Ohio. Then again that might have been because Brian hadn’t attempted to interact with any of the customers like he was doing now. His boss at the Silver Lake Hardware store even told him a few people had commented on how helpful he’d been, and Brian’s face had heated at the unexpected compliment. At the Ohio store, all he did was stack and retrieve lumber. Here in Silver Lake, he could cut, stack, and even order lumber for the store. Hell, his boss told him last week that he knew more about wood than any of his employees!
Brian attributed a lot of his new attitude to being around Elana. She’d provided unconditional support—something he’d never experienced in his life.
Now he could see that leaving Ohio had been the best thing he’d ever done. Being near the mental institution continually reminded him of his abandonment issues, which wasn’t healthy. The only good thing he could say about living in Ohio was that he’d had access to the basement where he rented a room. The landlord seemed pleased that he’d turned her dingy space into a workshop. As long as Brian provided her with a handmade table or a custom bookcase every now and then, she was happy to let him make as much noise as he wanted.
Silver Lake was a different story. Not that he wasn’t grateful to be living above where his sister worked, but the tiny apartment, and lack of a basement, made it hard for him to do his woodworking.
“Can you help me?” a customer asked, jarring Brian out of his reverie.
“Sure. What can I do for you?” For the first time in his life, he looked forward to chatting with people, especially when the topic revolved around building materials.
The young man explained he was building a go-cart for his four-year old son and needed some wood custom cut. For the next ten minutes, Brian was in his good zone—measuring and cutting. He refused to dwell on the fact his dad never made or bought him anything as exciting as a go-cart. Once done, he stacked the wood on the man’s dolly. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“I hope so.” He asked if Brian had any suggestions for the type of wheels and bearings he should use. While that wasn’t in his job description, Brian loved working with his hands and was quite good with anything mechanical. His therapist had always encouraged him to express himself through his projects.
For the next few minutes they discussed the pros and cons of quality versus cost of the bearings and tires. After a few minutes of back and forth analysis, the customer left happy, and that made Brian smile.
It was now time to clock out and do a little of his own shopping. The cradle he was building for Elana’s new baby was almost finished. All he needed was the motor to rock it gently, some paint, varnish, and brushes. Then he’d be done. He couldn’t wait to give Elana the present. Knowing her, she’d love it.
As he exited the store with his purchases, his cell rang. When he saw the caller was Elana, his heart raced. Assuming the worst, a blast of anxiety ramped up his heartbeat. Tucking the shopping bag under his arm, he answered. “Is the baby coming?”
She chuckled. “No, I’m not due for another two weeks. I’m calling to invite you to a party this weekend.”
Panic attack avoided. “Thanks, but I’m not the partying type.” That might require a double dose of meds.
“You can’t stay holed up in the apartment every night. You have to get out and meet people.”
It’s all he’d ever known. Moving here had been a huge enough step for him. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m good.”
“No you aren’t. You’re a recluse. One of my best friends, Teagan Pompley, has a brother, Sam, who is leaving the service. She and her fiancée are throwing a party for him. I want you to meet my friends. You are an important part of my life, and I want you in it more often.”
He was an important part of her life? It was what he’d yearned for—to belong. “Can I get back to you?”
“Sure, but make sure you say yes.”
He chuckled. “You sure are bossy.”
“Someone has to look out for you.”
She knew how to push his buttons. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“You better.”
As soon as he disconnected, he headed home. Brian had the next two days off, giving him confidence he could finish the cradle in time for the birth of his nephew.
After throwing a frozen dinner into the microwave and then scarfing it down, he plugged in his sander and went to work on polishing the sides he’d cut yesterday. Tomorrow, he’d cut and polish the bottom and then assemble it. The day after that, he’d paint it, and put on a coat of varnish.
After four hours of work, he was covered in sawdust, and even though he’d hung plastic to keep the dust from going everywhere, a thin film seemed to be on the walls and floor. He so needed a workshop. Despite wearing a mask, his lungs were coated in the stuff. It was time to call it quits before he made a stupid mistake.
Brian spent another hour cleaning up then stacked the materials under the living room window, ready for the next stage tomorrow.
He showered and then turned on the television to take his mind off his work. Close to midnight, after having dozed once or twice, he shut off the set and hit the hay. He must have been more tired than he thought because he didn’t wake up until a little after ten. Having a lot more to do on the cradle, he rose. After scrambling some eggs and brewing a pot of coffee, he went to work again. He only had to cut two more pieces and sand them before assembling it.
The pounding on his door didn’t register until it was followed by a few shouts. Thinking Elana needed to go to the hospital, he shut off his saw and rushed to the door, not giving any thought to his attire.
He threw open the door to find Anna, his sister’s assistant standing there, a scowl on her face. “Is Elana having her baby?” he asked, wiping his dirty palms on his jeans. Instead of being anxious, a wave of elation slammed into him.
“No. Elana asked me to let you know that we can barely hear what our customers are saying. Your power tools are making too much noise.” Anna planted a hand on her hip. Between her tattoos and piercings, she looked mighty fierce. “You can’t be doing that in here anyway.”
“I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll work after the shop closes.”
“Elana will be happy to hear that, but if Mr. Berta finds out that you’re spewing sawdust everywhere, he’ll probably evict you.”
His heart dropped to his stomach. “I thoroughly clean up every day.”
She shrugged. “Just saying.” She peaked around him. “What are you making anyway?”
He saw no harm in telling her. “I’m making a cradle for her baby, but don’t tell my sister.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? She’ll love that.”
“I hope so.”
Anna tilted her head. “For all the trouble you’ve caused, you can make it up to her by going to Teagan’s party this weekend.”
A trickle of relief rushed through him. While his actions probably hadn’t lost business for his sister, she decided to use that as leverage to get him to attend the gathering—or maybe it was Anna’s doing. For his sister’s sake, he’d go, but he wouldn’t stay long. This time, he’d keep some meds with him in case things became too intense for him.
“Leave the address with me, and I’ll try to make it.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
He wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into, but if it would make Elana happy, he’d go.
*
Jillian was anxious to meet Kalan’s mate. Hell, she was anxious just to get out of her brother’s house. He’d woken her up at six in the morning and then apologized for having to go into work. Before he left, he gave her a bunch of instructions about making sure the doors were locked, and why she shouldn’t go out. Jillian swore she was more anxious after his little talk than before she’d left California.
Then, at eleven, Dalton had called to say that Elana had a free hour to meet for lunch. Somehow his rule of not stepping foot out of the house seemed to have evaporated. He did tell her that as soon as he got off work this evening, they needed to return her rental car to Knoxville. As much as she wanted her independence, she understood that having that particular car was a liability. Tracing her whereabouts would be too easy for the son of a bitch who killed Dalia.
At a quarter to twelve, Jillian left the house, but not before scoping out the area. Not detecting any shifters, she hopped in her car and followed her brother’s directions to McKinnon’s Pub and Pool. With a few minutes to spare, she parked as close to the entrance as possible.