High Stakes Bride

by Fiona Brand

  Carter loomed out of the darkness as Elsie negotiated the ditch and scrambled up onto the road. Dani’s jaw set. There was no doubt about it: Carter knew exactly what Becca had been talking about.

  He reached for the bridle. “Wait.”

  Dani kneed Elsie into a trot, eluding his hold. “Later.”

  When she’d had time to panic, and time to shore up her scattered defences.

  As Dani directed Elsie onto the beach she couldn’t help reflecting on one salient fact.

  Most of the men had stopped to have coffee or a sandwich, with one notable exception. Some time in the last half hour O’Halloran had gone missing.

  The beach was quiet, the waves flattened out to a gentle rhythmic wash, the scent of smoke replaced by a cool early-morning tang.

  Dani dismounted, prised off her boots, peeled out of her anorak and waded into the water. When she was deep enough, she dove under, letting the salt water wash away the stench of smoke. Refreshed, she waded out, stuffed her boots and anorak in the knapsack and swung back in the saddle. Minutes later, when she reached the home paddock, Elsie nickered, and with a sense of inevitability Dani saw that Carter was waiting.

  A shiver coursed down her spine as she dismounted, her shirt clinging to her skin like wet seaweed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  In a moment of clarity she realised that with Carter she had always been on the defensive; a part of her had been afraid to get that close. He had walked out on her three times, and she had let him—his risky career with the SAS an easy out. She had thought he was the one who couldn’t commit, but he wasn’t alone in that. “I didn’t think it would do either of us any good.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m not walking away from this.”

  And, for the first time, she didn’t expect him to. Ever since he’d come back she’d been aware that the rules had changed, that what they both wanted had changed.

  Always before, she had managed to keep her innermost self apart and intact, but the moment she had realised she was in love with him, that subtle line of defence was gone. She wanted him—the emotion naked and raw. To compound her problem, she hadn’t had another relationship with which to compare what she was feeling. Carter was literally her first, last and only.

  His expression was grim as he unsaddled Elsie and carried the leathers into the tack room. Dani finished rubbing Elsie down, eased off the halter and watched her amble into her favourite spot in the paddock.

  When she turned, Carter was waiting.

  Heart pounding, she put her fingers in his. She’d wasted a lot of time and missed a lot of chances through stubbornness and fear; risky or not, she didn’t want to miss any more.

  Every cell in her body tensed as they walked through the dark, across the paddock that separated the two houses, and into the open doors of his bedroom. Moonlight delineated the bed with its plain, masculine bedspread, the spare lines of dressers, and the faded pattern of an antique rug.

  His shirt dropped to the floor. Pale light showed broad shoulders and the sheen of hard muscle and her breath stopped in her throat. Why had she ever thought she could resist him? Instead of kissing her he stepped behind her and began unravelling her hair from its plait. His fingers ran through the thick strands, gradually untangling her hair until it hung in a damp curtain down her back. “Were you a virgin the first time we made love?”

  “What do you think? There never was anyone else.”

  His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her back against his chest and a shaft of heat went through her. She felt his breath on her cheek. “I’m glad Becca said something—now some of it finally makes sense.”

  Her shirt dropped to the floor. “What do you mean, some of it?”

  His arms wound around her waist, pulling her back against him again, the skin-to-skin contact searingly hot after the chill of wet cotton. “The way you are.”

  His teeth grazed her neck and she bit down on her lip. “I always thought you were the complicated one.”

  His mouth shifted closer to the lobe of her ear and she tried to concentrate. With a slick move he turned her around in his arms. “There’s never been anything complicated about what I want.”

  The unexpected humour dissolved the constriction in her chest. Letting out a breath, Dani laid her head in the curve between his neck and shoulder, wound her arms around his waist and finally allowed herself to relax. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know this—the closeness and the intimacy that had entwined them for years.

  The first kiss was unexpectedly soft, the second even sweeter. Something tickled her forehead. A downy piece of feather drifted onto her nose.

  She blew, dislodging it. “Ostriches. Lately, I can’t seem to get away from them.”

  “Forget the ostriches.”

  Carter walked her across the room. The back of her knees hit the bed. She sat down, pulling Carter with her.

  “Wait.”

  His expression was rueful as he straightened. A drawer slid open. Dani glanced at the bedside table. Beside the box of condoms was a handgun.

  She stared at the sleek, metallic shape. Despite being around guns most of her life, the reality was shocking. The weapons she was used to seeing were the ones farmers used for pest control—usually a twenty-two rifle of some description kept locked in a cabinet—not stashed beside the bed. The weapon was an abrupt reminder of what Carter did for a living.

  She caught the gleam of his smile. “Sorry. Habit.”

  She noticed there was another piece of equipment beyond the gun, but she couldn’t quite make out what that was.

  He slipped off his jeans and for the first time she saw the mass of scar tissue on his thigh. If she needed a reminder that she had come close to losing him permanently, that was it.

  “Come here.”

  Anticipation shivered through her as he unhooked her bra and peeled off her damp jeans. Fully dressed, Carter was impressive—naked he was enough to stop any red-blooded woman’s heart.

  His mouth came down on hers and the night began to dissolve. He was being careful, treating her as if she was made of porcelain, but she didn’t want his restraint. Winding her arms around his neck, Dani lifted up on her toes and kissed him back, arching into him. He felt hot and male against her and vitally alive. She had almost lost him, but he was here—now—and, for the moment at least, he was hers.

  The moon had set and the sky was lightening in the east as Dani finally drifted into sleep. Carter’s arm came around her in a familiar gesture, tucking her in against him. Sleepily, she adjusted her position until she was comfortable.

  They had fallen asleep that way countless times, but in the sleepy aftermath of making love it reminded her of the first time they had ever shared a bed. For Dani the experience had been utterly new, the relief of being held almost unbearable after the grief of losing both Susan and Robert.

  After months of absence, Carter had been there when she’d needed him most, taking over the farm and shielding her from the curiosity that had surrounded the double tragedy. He’d helped her through the ordeal of the inquest and the legal tangle of the will. The fact that he’d also provided a shoulder to cry on had broken through her barriers; after years of carefully avoiding intimacy her guard had been down.

  Both eyes popped open. In a moment of clarity, she recognized what she’d always refused to see.

  Six years ago, Carter had stepped in when she was grieving and at her most vulnerable. After years of successfully avoiding intimacy she’d fallen into his arms like a ripe plum.

  Several weeks later, he had had to go back to barracks and the imbalance in the relationship had been established.

  Despite the absences and three breakups, she hadn’t dated anyone but Carter since they had first started going out together. Men had looked, but none of them had ever asked her out. She’d noticed the restraint, but it hadn’t bothered her because she simply hadn’t wanted anyone else. She was now certain that Carter had made sure any male within a radiu
s of fifty miles knew she belonged to him, and the campaign wasn’t confined to men. The entire township of Jackson’s Ridge already behaved as if she and Carter were married.

  The extent of Carter’s control sent a shiver down her spine. She had thought he had changed since he’d come back, and she’d attributed the changes to the ordeal he’d gone through in Indonesia, but she had been wrong. The ruthless streak was an intrinsic part of Carter; he had been like that all along.

  The room was washed with sunlight when the phone rang. Carter picked up, the conversation brief and monosyllabic.

  “Murdoch.” He put the phone down, leaned over and kissed her on the mouth. “I promised to meet him.”

  Dani’s drowsiness evaporated as Carter walked into the bathroom. The drumming of the shower cut out further conversation. When Carter walked out, already half-dressed and looking for a fresh shirt she sat bolt upright, the sheet wrapped around her breasts. “What does he want?”

  “To talk about the arsonist.”

  “Then I should be there.”

  Carter shrugged into a shirt. “He just wants to go through some profiling information.”

  “Then he must have a suspect.”

  He paused in the act of fastening his shirt. “He’s keeping an eye on someone, but all he has is speculation—nothing solid.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You mean he’s trying to keep me out of it.”

  He bent and kissed her on the mouth. “The hell with Murdoch. I want to keep you out of it. Besides, John mentioned last night that you’ve got a brunch date.”

  Dani blinked, feeling abruptly disoriented. It was Sunday. With everything that had happened—disaster piling on top of disaster—it felt like a month had passed since she had promised to go to Becca’s brunch, not just a few days.

  Chapter 13

  Murdoch poured fresh coffee into his mug, sat down at his desk, booted up his computer and eased into the one day the police station should have been closed. He had been in Jackson’s Ridge for going on twenty years. When he’d started out in enforcement, he’d been a city cop. Moving to the country had been like a breath of fresh air. He’d married one of the local girls, had kids, and gradually fitted into the community. When he retired he planned to stay here. But as much as he loved Jackson’s Ridge, he hated it when the small-town thing went a little crazy on him.

  Hardened criminals and stupid kids he could understand, their motivations were straightforward, but investigating ordinary citizens—people he knew and saw most days—made his stomach queasy. It was like ripping the lid off a trash can. In the light of day, nothing looked good.

  The sound of the front door creaking jerked Murdoch’s head up. Coldly, he eyed the two men who strolled into the field room. Carter he’d expected, but not Marc O’Halloran. “What are you two doing here?”

  O’Halloran’s gaze was openly curious as he looked around the tiny police station. “I’ve got withdrawal. Just wanted to breathe in the scent of crimes being solved.”

  Murdoch didn’t fight to keep the sour expression off his face. “I’ve done some checking. Your psychological profile isn’t the best.” He clicked on his screen saver. “Way I heard it, you might be a cop, but in the last case you worked your methods bordered on the criminal.”

  O’Halloran studied an open file on Murdoch’s desk. “I prefer the word unconventional.”

  Murdoch closed the file. “Either way, you’re not sticking your nose into this investigation. According to Auckland Central, you’re on leave until you get some perspective back.”

  O’Halloran hooked up a chair and sat down. “Thing is, I can help you.”

  He leaned forward and pointed at a map of Jackson’s Bay Murdoch had spread out on one end of his desk. “Lately I’ve noticed traffic along the beach road, always at night, and with no lights. I’ve had a look around, and no one’s fishing or swimming. The vehicle gets parked—” he indicated a position on the map “—there.”

  Carter’s gaze narrowed. O’Halloran had just pinpointed the location he had found and relayed to Murdoch. “It’s a four-wheel drive. There’s a track leading up the hill to Dani’s place.”

  O’Halloran sat back. “Have you gotten a visual?”

  Carter propped himself on the corner of the desk and set a small gear bag he was carrying on the floor. “Not yet.”

  The front of Murdoch’s chair hit the floor with a snap. “Wait just one minute. If I let you in on this, you follow orders, and Ray Cornell—or anyone else at Auckland Central—doesn’t hear a whisper.”

  O’Halloran showed the first trace of animation. “As far as I’m concerned I didn’t come in here today.”

  “Good.” Murdoch shoved a calendar across the desk. “There is a pattern to it. And somehow Dani is connected to almost every crime. The first fire was Barclay’s, and that was a couple of weeks back. Pete’s wife, Sybil, had a physiotherapy appointment with Dani.”

  “Maybe that fire isn’t part of the pattern.”

  “The same accelerant was used. The likelihood that we’re dealing with different offenders is remote.”

  “So what do we have, aside from Dani Marlow and the accelerant, that’s solid?”

  Murdoch’s expression turned grim. “Since last night’s fire, a long list of suspects—all of them with ostrich contracts—and the fact that Walter Douglas got to the Barclay fire early. According to one of the volunteers, he was warming up the engine when he got the call.”

  “And this.” Carter opened up the bag and pulled out a plastic bag containing a canister. “I’ve been checking for theft, but instead I found an empty tin of accelerant in Dani’s barn this morning. It wasn’t there yesterday.”

  Murdoch’s jaw tightened. “Which means it was placed there last night, after the ostrich facility went up. I’ll have to get it to Mason. It’ll take a day, but I’m willing to bet that if this is a set-up, we won’t find any prints.”

  An hour later, with a plan in place, O’Halloran rose to his feet. He paused at the door to reception and eyed Carter. “Heard you worked with Cornell on a couple of cases, but I didn’t expect to see you doing police work in Jackson’s Ridge. But then, correct me if I’m wrong, you two are related, right?”

  Murdoch muttered something dire beneath his breath as O’Halloran walked out, whistling.

  When O’Halloran was gone Carter pulled up a chair and sat beside Murdoch. “Don’t worry about the nepotism thing, he’ll never use it.”

  The computer screen glowed bright blue as Murdoch clicked on the mouse. “You were right, Susan Marlow has a file, but not the usual kind.”

  Seconds later the file flashed up on the computer.

  Carter leaned over his shoulder and stared at the screen. The first complaint was dated twenty-four years ago, the last just two years later. “That’s three complaints she logged in three different towns. Two breaking and entering, the last one detailing a serious assault.”

  “All three complaints withdrawn, no conviction obtained, and after that…nothing.”

  Murdoch tried another check, then another, but after the date of the final complaint nothing further had been lodged.

  Carter studied the name of the offender supplied in the first two complaints, Jordan Carlisle. The third, more serious complaint was listed as an unknown offender and it had been lodged by a neighbour, not Susan Marlow. “Any idea who this guy is?”

  Murdoch frowned he did a search on Carlisle, but drew a blank. “A dead end. Figures. The computer files only go back so many years. If I want the file, I’ll have to request it.”

  “Do it.”

  Murdoch folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m not in one of your death squads.”

  Carter reached for patience. “The SAS doesn’t run death squads—that was in the Second World War.”

  Murdoch gave him a hard-assed look. “Really?”

  Carter clamped down on his temper. “Are you getting the file?”

 
Murdoch tapped out an e-mail and pressed the send button. “What do you think?”

  Carter headed for the door. “You don’t want to know.”

  He knew the approximate date when Dani and her mother had turned up in Jackson’s Ridge, but that left a four-year gap since the date of the last complaint. Four years in which they had disappeared off the scope.

  The facts weren’t conclusive; just because Susan Marlow had never lodged another complaint that didn’t mean they were on the run, but for Carter a final, vital piece of the puzzle had just dropped into place. He had worked undercover operations for years, he knew how to disappear, and he was certain that was what Susan and Dani had done. He knew from what his mother had let drop that Susan Marlow had been hiding from something. When Susan and Dani had first arrived in Jackson’s Ridge their possessions had amounted to little more than a couple of suitcases and a car, and for the first few months Susan had refused to use charge accounts, insisting on paying for everything in cash. If his calculations were correct they had spent at least four years on the run, and more probably six.

  He was finally beginning to understand why Dani was so hard to reach. If the man who was stalking them was who he thought it was, it was no wonder she had a fundamental distrust of relationships and men.

  Dani heard the truck before it pulled up out in front of the house. Albert Docherty, the owner of an antiques shop in Mason, jumped out of the passenger seat and jerked his head at the two men with him. Dani took him through the house, pointing out the furniture that was to go while the driver of the truck reversed and backed as close to the front steps as he could get.

  Docherty eyed the furniture in the master bedroom with a pleased look. After a brief inspection, he handed a cheque to Dani. “This stuff doesn’t come on the market very often. Shouldn’t have any problem selling it.”

  With a curt nod, he motioned his men to start packing the pieces. The process took time, as every drawer and mirror had to be removed and wrapped, and the bed was ornate enough to be a difficult proposition to dismantle, let alone lift.