by Linda Conrad
As their SUV put distance between them and the state prison, Mary felt herself relaxing more and more. She’d done it. Walked in and out of a prison with her head held high and with hardly any discernable shaking at all. Now she could breathe easy and enjoy the rest of the day.
Not so for Jake. With each passing mile, he seemed to become more tense. He kept checking the rearview mirror and shifting in his seat.
She decided to turn the tables on him. “You’re the one that’s quiet now. What are you thinking about?”
Maybe he was disappointed in her. Mary had so hoped he would trust her to know what she was doing. She couldn’t bear to explain why it had been so important for her to see Damien and to help her sister. But she wasn’t sorry they’d come.
“Seeing Colton back there reminded me that your father was recently murdered.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off the road ahead as they began their ascent up the grade. “Have you given any thought to who might’ve wanted him dead?”
The idea was laughable, but she chose not to admit it by frowning. “I would imagine there might be tens of people out there in the world—maybe hundreds of people—who could’ve killed him. At the risk of repeating myself…”
Jake did the laughing for her, but he didn’t sound amused. “Yeah, I know. He was a difficult man. But seriously, you must have thought about it.”
She wasn’t going to talk to him about the members of her family and their many reasons to want Mark Walsh dead. Instead she began with the rest of the community.
“My father’s name was linked with several women. Women who might’ve had hot-tempered boyfriends or could’ve been a little unbalanced themselves. Any one of them would’ve been happy to see my father dead.”
“You think it was a crime of passion?”
“Sure. What else?”
Jake shrugged and shook his head. “How about business associates? I hear your father first got rich in the liquor trade. The Walsh breweries are legendary. That’s not an easy business. Brewing is rumored to have mob connections. Maybe he stepped on toes and paid for it.”
Mary was pleased she and Jake were talking over the past—sort of. She liked that he cared and was curious. But she wasn’t entirely sure that digging up the past was a smart thing to do.
Deciding to go with being happy about his attention, she said, “My father had a lot of help in the early days of the business. My mother and Craig did most of the real work putting that business on the map. And there’s a story that Darius Colton, Damien’s dad, lent my father some money just when he needed it the most. I simply can’t believe that the mob would do business with my dad. He was…”
“Difficult.” Jake’s chuckle was for real this time. He glanced over at her and winked. “I know. But I think it’s interesting to sort through all the suspects who might’ve done the crime. Like a murder mystery.”
Mary laughed out loud. “Well, it would be a lot more fun if it wasn’t my father we were talking about. But yes, we could do that. You’d need to meet the people involved, though. Maybe you could come to one of my mother’s famous barbecues. Would you like that?”
Jake reached over and touched her hand. “Sounds good. I want to meet your friends. But don’t you think we should check with your mother?”
“Sure, but Mom…” Mary stopped talking and gasped. “Oh, look at that.”
They’d rounded a hairpin turn and caught the tail end of a spectacular sunset. Jake pulled the SUV out onto a lookout point and put the transmission in Park, idling the engine and watching the sun going down through the windshield.
This was why she’d wanted to come the long way. This sight. Even though the sun was setting behind their backs, the road they were traveling had enough twists and turns to afford terrific views of both the mountains and the sky.
Streaks of copper, peppered with raspberry points, spread out to the indigo heavens from a cheddar-colored base of sun. Beautiful sunsets never lasted long in the mountains. But as this one eased over the bumpy horizon, it shimmered with colors reminiscent of the best rainbow she’d ever seen.
Mary sighed. “This trip was definitely worth the extra time. Thank you, Jake.”
When she looked toward him, he was already watching her.
“Definitely worth it.” He leaned in and surprised her with a sensual kiss. Warm and tender, but also full of longing and promise.
As he pulled away and sat back, he whispered, “You are every bit as beautiful as that sunset, Mary. Damned straight it was worth the…”
Mary felt the jolt before she heard the screech of tires. “Jake!” Someone had hit them from behind—hard.
“I’m on it! Hang on.”
The SUV roared to life as Jake threw it into gear and took off. He stepped on the gas and sped around the rest of the curve, barreling toward the crest of the mountain.
“What are you doing? You can’t leave the scene of an accident. What if someone was hurt?”
“That was no accident. Tighten your seat belt.”
What? Not an accident? Then that had to mean someone deliberately ran into them. But why?
As she tugged at her seat belt, Mary looked into the side mirror but saw nothing. Nothing but the blackness of after-dusk in the mountains. Turning to Jake, she started to question what he’d said.
But before she could open her mouth, he thundered out another order. “Brace yourself. They’re closing in.”
She didn’t need to flick another glance in the mirror to notice bright headlights suddenly close behind them. Too close.
And too bright. The whole inside of their SUV lit up like a sunshine-filled morning. “Jake!”
He didn’t answer as he fought the wheel and stepped down harder on the gas. In the glare of their own headlights, Mary could see one more hairpin turn coming up ahead. If they got hit from behind there, it was a five-hundred-foot drop over the side.
Mary held her breath while Jake urged the SUV to go faster down the hill toward the turn. She noticed the headlights behind them growing slightly dimmer as they raced on in the dark. No one could take these turns at high speeds. It was insane.
But Jake never slowed as he entered the next turn. Mary closed her eyes and put her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. She heard the brakes, felt the tires skidding sideways and waited for the worst.
Next, her body righted and she noticed the SUV was coming out of its skid. Suddenly it took what felt like a quick ninety-degree right turn. Into the mountain side?
Then they stopped. The engine quit roaring and began to purr.
Mary’s eyes popped open, but everything around her was black. Their headlights and dashboard lights were off. She glanced in Jake’s direction and opened her mouth to ask what had happened. All she could manage was one squeak.
“Shush,” he whispered. “One more moment and…”
From behind them she heard another engine whining and brakes squealing. She shifted all the way around in her seat and looked out the back. As she watched, a big truck flew by on the highway about twenty feet behind their SUV.
Realizing she was still holding her breath, she exhaled and said, “Do you think they spotted us?”
“Hope not. But they’ll figure it out when they hit a flat stretch a few miles ahead.”
“Where are we?”
“According to the GPS, on a fire road. Good thing I noticed it coming up.”
“Does the fire road go anywhere?”
Jake took in a gulp of air, as if to calm himself, and checked his screen. “It meanders around through the highest peaks and eventually comes out on the Interstate right north of Butte. Or at least it’s supposed to. I’m not crazy about driving it in the dark, but I don’t think we’ve got a lot of choices.”
She sat back in her seat and fought the tears. “You saved us. Where did you learn how to drive like that?”
Turning the headlights back on, Jake put the SUV in gear and eased on the gas. “One of my many hobbies. I once took a defensive dr
iving course.”
Mary found it hard to believe anyone could learn how to do what he’d done in driving school. But she wasn’t going to question her good fortune at having Jake at the wheel.
There were other questions running through her shaky brain, however. “Why did they come after us? Why would anybody want to hurt us?”
Through the dim light, glowing off dashboard, she saw Jake grinding his teeth.
It took him a moment or two more to answer. “I have no idea. I would hope it doesn’t have anything to do with our seeing Damien Colton in prison.”
“No way. Couldn’t be.” But the next thing to occur to Mary’s mind was a far less logical supposition. “Do you think it might be connected to my father’s murder?”
“I hope not.” Jake cleared his throat and concentrated his gaze straight ahead. “But we can talk about it more when we get back to my house.”
“Am I going to your house?” Though her whole body was still trembling from their ordeal, the idea of going home with him made her hot.
“Absolutely,” Jake told her. “If that truck had hit us a little harder or it had been a more direct hit, we would be at the bottom of a canyon by now. I nearly lost you—and I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”
Chapter 7
Mary walked in his footsteps with her fingers stuck through his belt loops in the back. She was close enough that Jake could even feel her erratic breathing on his neck.
He stood still for a moment and whispered to her, “What are you doing? Keep a step or two behind me.”
“You said to stay close.” Her whispered remark sounded jumpy—nervous.
“Not that close.” He eased her back a couple of feet.
It was bad enough that he’d had to sweep his rental house for intruders without benefit of a weapon at the ready. But how would he go about explaining a Glock 9 mm to a woman who thought his job was in real estate? He’d left that weapon under the seat of his SUV. And though he’d stashed several other weapons around the house, he wanted to stay undercover—for the time being.
However, Jake couldn’t hope to do a thorough security check as long as Mary’s body heat kept seeping through his shirt, mixing with his blood and driving him wild.
“This house is huge.” Mary apparently changed her mind and found his intruder check boring.
She wandered off into the open-concept kitchen, where he’d left a soft light burning over the range. “Why would you need a professional chef’s kitchen?”
“To cook food.”
She swung back to look at him as he closed the storage closet door. “You? You cook?”
“Sure. Give me a few minutes to check all the doors and windows and I’ll make you a late supper.”
Mary went back to opening refrigerator and pantry doors, exclaiming how well-supplied and neat everything was. Meanwhile Jake made sure every downstairs door and window was secure, each one locked up as tight as he’d left it.
Mentally chastising himself, he took the stairs two at a time to secure the second story, leaving Mary to ooh and ahh over the furnishings in the dining room/kitchen combination. Yes, he had a well-stocked kitchen and expensive decorator furniture, but he hadn’t taken the damned time to ask the Bureau to alarm the house. What an idiot. Now he would have to phone in and plead for emergency service to set up a security system ASAP. Turkey that he was.
But this house was just for show. Or rather it had started out that way when he’d begun this mission a few weeks ago. He’d never planned on using it as a safe house. All he did was sleep here once in a while.
At the thought of sleep and beds, he wondered how the sleeping arrangements would go for him and Mary tonight. He didn’t want her going back to the Walsh farm—not until he got a better handle on who had attacked them and found help protecting her.
But he had made a vow not to touch her again after their one crazy and erotic night. He’d already listed a hundred reasons in his head why they shouldn’t have slept together in the first place—and why they should never do it again.
But making love to her again had become all he could think about. Day and night. It didn’t matter whether she was with him for real or if he was only dreaming about her. He was consumed with thoughts of her.
Rolling his eyes at his own ridiculous notions, he thanked heaven this house was big. Lots of bedrooms.
Hmm. But lots of bedrooms might not be enough to keep him out of her bed.
Finishing his security check, Jake headed down the front stairs with his mind racing. How could he arrange things to make it easy for him to keep his hands off her?
Walking through the two-story open family room, Jake had the only idea that made any sense. He would send her upstairs and he would sleep down here in front of the fire.
That should do it.
He hoped. Unless he started walking in his sleep.
“Hi,” she said when she spotted him turning on lights. “Everything okay?”
God, he hoped it would be. “The house is secure. Now let’s see what we’ve got for supper.”
“You have everything in your kitchen. All the ingredients and utensils for any meal you could possibly want.”
“Don’t count on that.” The only meal he wanted to eat was standing right before him. “I was top chef in a San Francisco restaurant in another life. I have a repertoire of recipes.”
“Cool. Then you decide what you want to cook. Me? I’m a top eater.”
They both laughed and Jake actually began to relax. This might not be so tough. He only had to get through one night of protecting her alone before he could call in reinforcements.
How hard could that be?
A couple of hours later Jake was finding out exactly how hard things could get. He’d fisted his hands to keep from reaching for Mary enough times that his nails had caused permanent damage to the skin on his palms.
“That was a terrific meal.” Mary stood to carry her plates to the kitchen.
“Thanks. It’s my healthy take on eggs Benedict. The sauce is made from low-fat yogurt, lemon juice and lemon zest instead of the usual hollandaise.”
“You’re hired,” Mary said with a chuckle as she reached the sink. “You can be my personal chef from now on.”
Jake didn’t figure either his palms or his groin could stand the strain. “Leave the dishes. Let’s have coffee and the flan in the family room in the other wing. I think it’s chilly enough to light the fire.”
“Okay.” She turned slowly and brushed past him to move out of his way.
He caught a whiff of her hair—strawberries—and his knees went weak. Standing by the sink, he grabbed hold of the countertop edge with both hands and counted to ten.
This was going to be one hell of a long night.
Minutes later, Jake carried the coffee and dessert in on a silver tray. Mary was kneeling by the hearth, lighting the kindling.
When she saw him, she grinned. “It’s odd to think of it being cold enough in August for a fire. But the nights have been particularly chilly this year. Down to the mid-thirties last night. Although they can withstand much cooler, the farmhands covered the chicken coop to keep the birds warm.”
“I forgot you live on a farm.”
Mary stood and dusted off her hands while the kindling crackled behind her back. “It’s not as much of a farm as it used to be. Everyone in my family has a busy life and no time to mess with farming or the animals anymore.” She closed one eye and thought about what she was saying. “Well, no one has time except for me. But I’ve never been involved much with the farm. Not even as a kid. I was always more into books.”
Jake set the tray on the coffee table and pulled the table away from the sofa so they could lounge in front of the fire and also reach the cups and plates at the same time. “Come sit down and let’s talk more about who had a motive to kill your father.”
She plopped down into the overstuffed sofa and sighed. “This is nice. The kindling has caught. We should have a lo
vely roaring fire soon. You go first.”
He poured the coffee. “I don’t know any of the people involved—except for you and Lucy. And I don’t think either of you would have a motive. You have to start with a suspect and I’ll offer my opinion.”
She accepted a mug of coffee and looked up at him across the rim. “I don’t like thinking about the people I know having a motive for murder.”
Jake reached over and touched her cheek. “This is only to pass the time. But if you’d rather not—”
Mary closed her eyes and bit her lip until he stopped stroking her skin. He understood. His own mind had wandered dangerously while the warmth from her flesh moved through his fingers.
“Um.” She cleared her throat and tensed her shoulders. “What if whoever killed my father is also trying to kill me? Someone tried to run us off the road, remember.”
He could scarcely forget. “Would your father’s murderer have reason to kill you, too?”
“No.” She shook her head once, then hedged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But they might think I know something or someone that I don’t.”
When she looked up at him again, her eyes filled with fear. “Oh, Jake. I might be in trouble and not even know why.”
He couldn’t stand it. Taking the mug from her hand, he put it aside and scooted in close to put his arms around her. Her whole body quivered.
“That’s why you’re staying with me tonight.” His confident remark sounded cocky, but he couldn’t help saying whatever it took to make her feel safe. “You’ll be okay here.”
She must’ve believed him because in a moment, she slipped off her shoes and sat back. Sighing, she flexed her feet in front of the fire.
Toeing off his own boots, he noted his heartbeat kicking into overdrive. Beneath Mary’s normally calm exterior he’d sensed a constant sizzle of desire whenever they touched—even when passing a dish or exchanging mugs. He could feel a sort of sensual vibration within her that excited and inflamed him. “Mary…”