Last of the O'Rourkes

by Kate Douglas

  Even more aware this situation was much too dangerous for games. “You will protect me, Seamus. Me and my baby.”

  He lit the dry tinder and stood up, brushing his hands across his thighs before pulling Kat to her feet then quickly releasing her hands. “How do you know you can trust me?”

  His deep voice rumbled up out of his chest. She loved the sound of it. Didn’t want to. Couldn’t help it.

  “I couldn’t protect you in my own home. What makes you think I’ll do any better here?”

  “Because you have to.” Kat folded her arms, rested them across her belly and sighed. “You have no choice. If you don’t keep me alive, you’ll never see your brother’s child.”

  “Kathleen, I...”

  “Seamus. Please. Let’s drop it. We both know where we stand. That’s enough, isn’t it?” She licked her dry lips and pushed her hair back out of her eyes. Suddenly the day felt way too long. “I’m tired. Would you show me where you want me to sleep?”

  He nodded, his dark green eyes studying her with an unnerving intensity. He checked the fire, added a log, then picked up her bag and silently led Kat to a room beneath the stairs. She followed behind, marveling once again how Seamus could look so much like his twin, yet be so completely his own man.

  She was wondering as well how she could have ever thought herself in love with a man who was merely a pale shadow of the real thing.

  No. Don’t even think that. It won’t work. Not in a million years . Remember what he wants, why he’s so damned protective.

  You can do it, Malone...it’s only three more months . Three more months, and whether or not her stalker had been apprehended by then, she’d quietly slip away and make a new life for herself. For herself and her child. Why did she have to keep reminding herself there’d be a child. A baby. A tiny, vulnerable life, completely dependent on Kat. She’d find a place where no one, not Seamus, not the killer, would ever find her...or her baby.

  Oh God! It wasn’t just the pregnancy or “whatsit”. It was going to be a living, breathing little person, a child to love and hold.

  My baby . Not the baby. Not Riley’s, certainly not Seamus’s. Kat brushed her hand lightly across her stomach and a tiny foot or elbow fluttered against her palm. Fierce, hungry, overwhelming love flooded her heart. Warmth raced through her veins until she felt as if she must be glowing.

  This baby is mine, Seamus O’Rourke. Mine.

  She watched impatiently as Seamus set the bag on the double bed and turned to leave. “I know this isn’t much,” he said, gesturing toward the bed and shrugging his shoulders. “But it’s the only bedroom downstairs and it’s got its own bathroom. I don’t want you climbing up and down the—”

  “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Kat stepped to one side and held the door wider for him, hoping her intention was obvious. He cocked one dark eyebrow.

  Kat returned his stare. She had to get him out of here, now . No way was she willing to share this revelation, this sense of impending wonder, this love . She wanted nothing more than to curl up on the bed, to wrap herself around her growing baby...to absorb the feelings warming her heart. Finally, she wanted to dream of her child, to plan.

  Why had it taken so long to feel like a mother? She’d been wondering what was wrong with her, wondering in the dark recesses of her heart if maybe, just maybe, Seamus would be the better parent.

  Thoughts of Seamus’s kindness suddenly filled her mind, traitorous thoughts mingled with the knowledge of his ultimate reason for helping her. Well, he wasn’t going to get her baby and he wasn’t going to get her. Kat straightened her spine as Seamus glanced once more in her direction, then turned to leave the room.

  He doesn’t want you, you idiot.

  But what if he did? Seamus brushed against her as he walked past and Kat’s muscles tensed involuntarily. He shot one crystalline glance in her direction, affirming the contact had been intentional.

  She didn’t need all this confusion in her life! She shut the door quickly behind him, searched for a latch and felt oddly relieved when she couldn’t find one. Then she pushed thoughts of Seamus out of her mind, slipped her shoes off and wrapped herself snugly in the heavy bedspread. Three more months. Just three months until she held her baby in her arms, packed their bags and left.

  Half asleep, Kat pondered the fact she’d finally started thinking of her baby as a separate being, of someone alive and waiting to be born. Someone she couldn’t wait to cuddle and love. She drifted to sleep amid conflicting dreams of holding her baby to her breast and the comforting sound of Seamus adding more wood to the fire.

  IT WAS COMPLETELY DARK when Kat opened her eyes, but a pale sliver of light under the door helped her orient herself. After a quick trip to the bathroom she ran a damp washcloth over her face, finger-combed her hair and stepped out into the great room.

  Seamus was there in the semi-darkness, his head and shoulders framed by the light from the dying fire. His back was to her. He slouched in an old rocker he had pulled close to the hearth. His head tilted to one side, and his left arm hung loosely over the armrest, the fingers almost reaching the floor.

  Other than the soft hiss and snap of embers in the glowing fireplace, the room was quiet. A shiver ran along Kat’s spine and she quickly glanced around the large room, wondering if the unease she felt meant danger or was merely a reaction to waking after a late afternoon’s sleep.

  She stepped around beside Seamus and quickly relaxed. He slept soundly and peacefully, his lips slightly parted, one hand across his flat stomach, his long legs stretched out as if seeking the heat from the slumbering fire.

  He wore argyle socks with a hole in the left foot. His big toe stuck out through the hole. Something about that imperfection in this oh-so-perfect-male touched Kat. It was nice to know the paragon was human after all.

  If this had been Riley she would have run her fingers through the thatch of dark hair, would have wakened him with a kiss and an invitation for more.

  But this wasn’t Riley. Seamus wasn’t anything like his brother and yet he was so similar to Riley it hurt to stand here and study him. Hurt to want to touch him, yet know that touch was forbidden by her own need for self-protection.

  Kat couldn’t move away. She’d never felt so torn, nor had she known such a sense of loneliness. The baby kicked, a sharp emphasis to her situation. For the first time Kat thought of the struggle that awaited her, thought of raising the baby by herself.

  Seamus stirred, stretched, then, as if aware of Kat silently watching him, turned his head to study her in the darkened room. He blinked, then pulled himself more upright in the chair. “How long have you been there?”

  “I just woke up. Thought I’d check and see if you were awake.”

  “I wasn’t.” He grinned, arched his back and stretched again. “Didn’t realize how tired I was.” He glanced at his watch. “Geez, it’s after eight. Are you hungry?”

  She hadn’t thought about it until Seamus brought it up. “Yeah, guess I am. Is there anything here to eat?

  “Dumb question. Let’s go see what looks good.”

  A loud buzz startled them both. Seamus grabbed his beeper from the small table next to the chair. “Do you recognize this number?” He held the digital screen out so Kat could read it.

  “That’s Sandy Wilson’s home number. It must be important.” She shivered, though the room was warm, and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Seamus punched in the numbers on his cell phone. Kat watched the dark expressions cross his face, sensed the deep despair that filled him, but she waited until he finished the call, waited while he closed his eyes in an obvious attempt at composure.

  Finally he turned and looked directly at Kat. His green eyes glistened with tears. “Hazel’s dead. They found her body right after we left. Just outside the kitchen. She’d been strangled.”

  “Oh, my God.” Kat reached for Seamus’s hands, grabbed them both and held on. “What...? Who...?”

  “Sandy had a team out t
here to look for clues right after we left. They were checking your room, the stairs... They didn’t find her body for a couple of hours. She never had a chance. Her neck was broken.”

  He bowed his head, his hands still grasping Kat’s. “I thought she’d gone to the store. Hell, I left her a note on the kitchen table and told her to take a few days off, that I’d call as soon as I could. I never imagined...”

  “Seamus, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

  He stood up and pulled Kathleen gently into his embrace. She let herself melt against his strong frame, but guilt wouldn’t let her rest. “If I hadn’t been there, he never would have come. She’d still be...”

  “Hush. You’re not to blame. If anyone’s to blame it’s me. For not taking the threat seriously enough, for risking both your lives. He never should’ve gotten on the grounds. I can afford a security force. I didn’t think we needed it. No, I figured I could take care of everything. Well, I sure screwed that up, didn’t I?”

  Kat closed her eyes against the bitterness in his voice, the fear in her heart. The baby kicked, a tiny staccato of beats against her belly.

  Kat shuddered, more aware than ever of how much she had to lose.

  Chapter Six

  “I’VE GOT TO MAKE some phone calls.” Seamus carefully unwrapped Kat’s arms from around his waist and set her away from him. It felt too good to hold her close. This was neither the time nor the place. Not now, maybe not ever.

  “I’ll get something together for dinner.” Kat wiped her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeve and sniffed.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Seamus reached for his cell phone. “I need to call Hazel’s daughter and I should get in touch with my agent before this hits the evening news...if it hasn’t already.”

  Kat nodded her head in answer and left the room. Seamus watched her walk away, his sense of unease like a lead weight in his chest. He wondered if Kat realized how much things had changed. An anonymous reign of terror was one thing. In the course of one afternoon, her stalker had crossed two major barriers.

  He’d gone from written threats and vandalism to outright confrontation of his victim.

  He’d murdered an innocent bystander.

  Seamus rubbed his hand across his burning eyes. There couldn’t have been a more innocent bystander than Hazel Andrews.

  If Kat was right, if her stalker had killed Riley, it meant the downward spiral had begun even earlier.

  Seamus doubted it would end with his housekeeper’s death.

  “Geez, Hazel. I’m so damned sorry.” Seamus looked down at the phone in his hand, dreading the call to Linda. He’d known Hazel’s eldest daughter for years, enjoyed her quick wit and the wonderful relationship she shared with her mother. Now, in the blink of an eye, it was over. Hazel was gone. Linda would live with the pain of her mother’s untimely death for the rest of her life.

  Just as he would live with the guilt.

  The clatter of pots and pans caught his attention.

  In the blink of an eye. He could easily have lost Kat as quickly. The stalker had held her life in his hands this afternoon. For whatever twisted desires drove him, he’d allowed Kathleen Malone to live, had toyed with her like a cat with a mouse.

  Then he’d left her with a threat of more to come.

  A shudder passed through Seamus. He clenched his fists, then just as quickly spread his fingers wide. He stared at his broad palms, unmarred by calluses and scars as Riley’s had been, at the long fingers, the neatly trimmed nails.

  Not the hands of a fighter, and certainly not the hands of a killer.

  What if he couldn’t protect her? What right did he have promising Kat he would keep her safe? Could he, with these hands?

  He shook his head dismayed by the direction his thoughts kept spinning, and dialed Linda’s number.

  “WHEN’S HAZEL’S FUNERAL?” KAT dried the last dish and stuck it in the cupboard over her head.

  Seamus finished rinsing the sink, then shut the water off and dried his hands. He turned and leaned against the counter, immeasurably fascinated by the toes of his shoes as far as Kat could tell.

  “Seamus?”

  “I’m sorry.” He raised his head, frowning, looking even more troubled and distracted than he had earlier. “It’ll be in three days...Friday morning. The family is planning a graveside service, same cemetery where Riley’s buried. Linda, Hazel’s daughter, didn’t think she could handle a big funeral.”

  “Can we make it down and back in one day?” Kat hung the towel on a hook next to the sink and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s not that far, is it? I slept most of the way here, but...”

  “We aren’t going.” Seamus pulled out the chair across from her and sat. “It’s too risky. The killer’s going to expect you to be there. I’m not about to hand you over to him on a silver platter and that’s exactly what we’d be doing.”

  He rubbed his hand across his face and shoved a heavy lock of dark hair off his forehead. Deep lines bracketed his mouth. Kat thought he looked incredibly weary.

  Guilt ripped through her again. None of this would have happened if she’d been stronger. She should have gotten a hotel room in the very beginning. Hazel would still be alive. Seamus’s world wouldn’t be in complete turmoil.

  I’d probably be dead. Me and the baby.

  Seamus’s quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. “I explained the situation to Linda. She understands and she agrees. She knows how fond I am...was...of her mother.” He closed his eyes, bowed his head, then suddenly looked up and glared at Kat, as if expecting an argument.

  The baby chose that moment to plant a strong kick just under her ribcage. Kat’s automatic rebuttal died in her throat.

  “I understand. I guess I just feel so awful... I keep thinking...”

  “I know what you’re thinking.” He practically growled at her. “Just stop it, Kat. It won’t change anything. Hazel’s gone. She shouldn’t have died the way she did but it happened. You’re alive. The baby’s alive. Keeping you both safe is my primary concern right now.”

  His eyes narrowed as if he dared her to argue, but Kat sensed the helpless rage and sorrow behind his angry guise. She fought a powerful urge to go to him, to hold him in her arms, to do anything that would take the emptiness and sadness from his eyes.

  Knowing full well he would probably push her away with the same cool efficiency as he had earlier in the evening kept her glued to her seat. His rejection left her confused and hurting, especially after the loving way he’d held her earlier, after the stalker had attacked her. Would she ever figure him out?

  “How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?” she asked. She told herself the inactivity was making her crazy.

  Liar. Seamus was making her crazy. She didn’t want to be confused by him, attracted to him. Hell, she didn’t even want to like him.

  Lately, it didn’t seem to matter what she wanted.

  “Until they catch him, I imagine. Sandy told me he’s following some leads. Now at least he has an idea who to look for.” Seamus slammed his palm down on the table, frustration evident in every move he made. “Damn, I wish you’d gotten a look at him so we could be certain...”

  “It has to be Tim Anderson. He’s scary. My friend Rose, the woman he kidnapped during the hijacking, said he was a real sicko. Her ex-fiancé ended up protecting her from Anderson. If he hadn’t, Rose was convinced Anderson would have killed her...and taken great pleasure in the process.”

  “What about the ex-fiancé?”

  “James Dearborn? I don’t think so. Comes from money. Got involved in hijacking to cover gambling debts. Such an idiot! He’d been embezzling from his own mother! In the end, he was just as much a victim. The head of the operation was blackmailing him to keep him in line. Dearborn’s a real dip, a complete loser, but I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

  “He never threatened you?”

  “No. The only threats came from Anderson. He threatened to kill all of us. Guess I’m lucky
to be first on his list.” She didn’t mean to sound so bitter. She’d rather Anderson come after her than her best friends...or Hazel, the chatterbox housekeeper she’d grown so fond of over the past few weeks.

  “I’m so sorry about Hazel. She didn’t deserve to die like that.” Kat looked down at her folded hands, amazed they weren’t trembling. This sense of fear, of vulnerability, was unnerving.

  She’d never felt like this before.

  You’ve never been pregnant before, idiot.

  No wonder she felt helpless. The physical abilities she’d always depended upon were no longer an option.

  Isolated as they were, if Anderson found them she’d have only her wits and Seamus to protect her.

  Even Seamus had admitted the truth...he’d failed her once before.

  Thank goodness for the gun tucked under her mattress.

  Seamus reached across the table and took both Kat’s hands in his. She felt his strength cross the barrier, flesh to flesh, filling her with a sense of calm she hadn’t expected. “We’ll be okay, Kat. He has no idea where we are. Sandy’s got a team working on this, so we’ll just sit tight until we hear from him.”

  “Sit tight, you say.” She laughed and carefully slipped her hands out from under Seamus’s. “I’ll go nuts here with nothing to do.” She stood up and walked away from the table, turned in the doorway and leaned against the frame. Seamus watched her, the steady gaze from his dark green eyes a bit unnerving. “You realize, I’ve spent the last few weeks going quietly insane,” she said. “Now that I’m feeling better the inactivity will really drive me crazy.”

  “I’ve got a deck of cards.” He mimed a dealer’s quick moves.

  “Cards, you say?” She winked at him. Immediately wished she could take the flirtatious move back. Wondered how she could have possibly lost control of that damned eyelid!

  The smile he flashed in her direction made her heart beat double-time. Maybe a game of cards wasn’t the best of ideas....