Resort to Murder

by Glenys O'Connell

  Had Liam Reilly not arrived back in her life, Ellie knew she might have considered marrying Brad. Now she knew that would have been a serious mistake, because she obviously didn’t know Brad at all.

  Reilly’s warnings about allowing her relationship with Brad to color the way she looked at evidence concerning the writer echoed in her mind, setting off little frissons of anger. How dare he suggest that she would shield a murderer, even if he were her lover—which Brad was not. That’s an interesting point, Ellie—why is Brad not your lover? Oh, shut up! The pencil Ellie had been fiddling with snapped in her fingers. Of course Brad had nothing to do with this murder. He was just the author of a sensational and misguided book about a homicidal maniac. So how did he know about the scalpel? Ellie dropped her head into her hands and sighed.

  “What? Sleeping on the job, Fitzpatrick?” Reilly’s voice was more of a purr, the taunting softness that hid sharp claws and Ellie, lost in her own thoughts, literally jumped.

  “I was just finishing up the report on my interview with Hector Abbott, and starting to catch up on my reading for the review,” she growled defensively.

  “What a busy little bee you are. Have you eaten yet?”

  “Hector Abbott robbed me of my appetite for lunch.”

  “How about dinner?”

  “Oh, I’ll pick something up on the way home.” She refused to look at him as he leaned comfortably in her office doorway. Why didn’t he just go away?

  “Do you have any idea what time it is, Ellie?”

  She glanced at her watch, and was shocked to see it was after nine o’clock. Reilly coughed, as if she needed a reminder of his presence, and when she looked up she saw he was barely concealing a grin. “Just because you’re back in harness doesn’t mean you have to wrap up the whole investigation and review single handed,” he told her. “Come on, I was going to pick up a bite at the Indian restaurant around the corner—do you still have that addiction to chicken korma?”

  Ellie’s stomach gave an audible growl.

  “I rest my case,” Reilly said.

  “Actually, curry sounds wonderful about now.” Even if you being there will have me fantasizing about dessert!

  But once seated in the spacious restaurant, the silence of things unsaid arced between them like static electricity. Ellie could see Reilly was already regretting the invitation. She fished around for a neutral subject—work, mutual acquaintances, books, movies—anything that would allow them to dance gracefully around their shared history and avoid opening old wounds.

  Despite that, she had an acute sense of old ties slotting back into place, and wondered if Reilly felt the same sense of reconnection. Studying him covertly as they dined, she could see nothing in his polite, charming manner that betrayed anything more than a casual interest. When she found herself relaxed, laughing at some wry comment, she remembered how for all his intensity, he had always been able to make her laugh. The thought brought a swift shiver of emotion over her already sensitized feelings.

  “I thought you’d gone to America for good, Reilly. What happened? Don’t tell me the policing there was too conservative for you?” Ellie smiled; Reilly’s sometimes unconventional methods had been both a joke and a source of friction between them.

  But he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked out into the dark street, his eyes somber. “It was only a two month secondment, and I came back because I knew this promotion was in the offing.” He avoided her eyes, not wanting Ellie to read the true reason for his return to England—that he’d held onto the faint hope that she would be waiting for him. “I’m still intrigued by the States, though, and have the offer of a job with the Chicago force if I’m ever interested.”

  Now it was Ellie’s turn to look away. Her heart was contracting painfully, reacting to the news that she was about to lose him again. But you haven’t found him again—you’re just work colleagues. And he was even reluctant about that! Even so, for just a moment, she allowed herself a fantasy that they were both living in the Windy City, that she’d taken up the offer with the security firm, and that he’d accepted a position on the police force…what would their life be like?

  “That sounds exciting.” She forced herself to sound light, “And what about your brother? How is Brendan these days?” Ellie nudged the conversation to safer ground. She’d always liked Reilly’s older brother.

  “Brendan’s fine. He and Hannah are still working at the hospital in Saudi Arabia, and expecting a new addition anytime soon.”

  “That’s wonderful, another little Reilly for the clan.” Ellie smiled to cover the wash of bright longing that flowed through her as she thought of being pregnant with Liam’s child. She pushed the notion away, praying he hadn’t noted the wistful look in her eyes. “And how’s your mother?” Mrs. Reilly had terrified Ellie on the one occasion they met, but she knew Reilly’s was a tight-knit family.

  “Still ruling the Reilly clan with an iron fist. She’s living in London now, though, with my uncle’s family.”

  “Do you get to Ireland much? You always talked about it,” Ellie said, and instantly regretted the intrusion. A big No Trespassing sign had gone up on Reilly’s face.

  “I was there seven months ago, but it was a business trip.” He curtly called for the bill and settled the tab, then helped Ellie into her jacket. All the while her brain was screaming, Reilly was in Ireland? Was that where he went to hide when she needed him?

  Outside in the street a light rain was falling. The downturn in the weather seemed to suit Ellie’s mood. She couldn’t hold back any longer—all this time she’d been wondering where Reilly had disappeared to. Now he says he was in Ireland?

  “Seems funny you took off to Ireland when I was in trouble. You didn’t even pause to say goodbye—one moment we were going to be nice, civilized friends—the next you were gone! Were you trying to protect your career? Wanted to make sure you’d get the promotion with me out of the way? Maybe you even wanted that—I know you were in Harris’s office to see me dragged over the coals.” Her shrill accusations shamed her even as they escaped her mouth.

  Reilly turned on her and she had never seen him so angry. “I wasn’t promoted because of your dismissal,” he ground out. “I was promoted entirely on merit—for taking part in a special mission over and above the usual duties.”

  “Oh, what was that? Did you wash Harris’s car or something?” She knew the sarcasm was childish, but she’d been nursing this anger and resentment for so long; she didn’t want to see him escape now.

  “No, I took a bullet to my arm and shoulder in Northern Ireland on a mission to rescue another officer in the Special Branch who’d been kidnapped by the IRA. That’s why I was away the couple of weeks before your problems came up.”

  The way he said “your problems” made them seem so small in comparison with what he’d been facing, and Ellie’s face burned. The image of Reilly, standing in her kitchen naked but for a towel, the livid scar standing out on his smooth hard muscle, slipped into her mind. He was telling the truth…

  “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening?”

  “If you remember, we’d had a very civilized dinner in which you’d been adamant that we needed a break from each other. You said—and got me to agree—that we were both at a stage when we wanted to concentrate on our career goals. Besides, you’d stopped listening to me some time before that—you were completely wrapped up in the Slasher case, and then the latest case which was so delicate….there wasn’t any room for me in your life.”

  Ellie stood still, the rain peppering her hair with bright drops.

  “You could have told me later. You didn’t have to just leave.”

  “Ellie, we were out of each other’s lives. The Irish mission was classified, I couldn’t tell even you about it. And after we got the other officer out, one of the more extreme cells of the IRA had vowed that they’d kill me and the two other officers involved. One of their men was killed, and they wanted revenge. It seemed best that I follow thr
ough on the secondment to the States although no one knew quite where I was posted.

  “I forced Harris to let me sit in when he called you on the alleged bribes; I tried to be there for you. But you stormed out and did a disappearing act yourself—I phoned your mother and your sister and they both refused to tell me where you were. I even wrote letters which you never answered. It was only when I got back from Chicago that I was able to make a few inquiries and learn about your family cottage. Then I knew that’s where you were hiding out.”

  Ellie cast her mind back. It was true she’d disappeared as effectively as she could for a while, licking her wounds and feeling sorry for herself. And all the while Liam’s life was under threat, in a strange country, with a real wound not yet healed…..And neither her mother nor her sister had passed on his messages. They may have thought they were protecting her, but to Ellie is seemed like a betrayal.

  “Liam. I am so sorry…”

  “Water under the bridge, Ellie. As you said, it’s all in the past. I’ll walk you back to your car—mine’s also at the station.”

  And he turned and walked away through the rain.

  ****

  Back at the police station car park ten minutes later, Ellie’s evening took another turn for the worse. The parking officers had deemed her illegally parked and applied that most hated of English devices, the steel wheel clamp, to her car, immobilizing it.

  “Dammit!” she snarled, kicking one of the innocent car’s tires.

  “Hey, take it easy—I’m sure that poor little car didn’t ask to be clamped.”

  Reilly had to smile when he saw Ellie take a kick at her car, exasperation written on her face. And he admitted to himself now that finally telling her the truth—or most of it—was like having a burden lifted from his shoulders. The ball was in her court now.

  “Looks like Harris forgot to put your name and license number on the list.”

  “Forgot, my ass!” Ellie snapped, still fuming.

  Reilly bit back a suggestive comment about Ellie’s ass—a feature he’d often admired and certainly didn’t think was forgettable - but now such comments were out of bounds. In the past, as she’d said that day on the beach.

  “I’ll drive you home,” he said shortly, battling between pleasure at the thought of keeping her with him longer, and pain at the knowledge that everything had changed.

  Conversation had drained away from them and, exhausted, Ellie fell gratefully asleep as Reilly’s skilled hands guided his SUV through heavy rain out of the city and northeast across the treacle-black moorland.

  ****

  The rain had stopped by the time they arrived at her cliff-top cottage. Reilly gently nudged his sleepy passenger awake, fighting the flash of desire as memories drenched him of other times when he’d kissed the sleep from her eyes. Try as he might, he could not banish the attraction that pulled him to her. With studied courtesy he walked her to her door. Despite all his good intentions as they stood under the light from her porch lamp, the soft sea-scented night breeze stirring their clothes, the hot physical attraction that ran like flame between them flared again into sizzling life as she went into his arms like a moth to flame. He had no thought now but the need to feel his mouth on hers, his arms around her, locked together in turbulent desire. When he looked into her dark eyes, smoky with desire, need was like a tidal wave that swept all sanity away. Heat coursed through his blood and he reached to loosen the scarf around her neck.

  Shock hit him like a cold shower as he saw the purpling bruises on her exposed neck.

  He drew in a ragged breath, and anger flushed his cheeks. “What happened to your neck, Ellie—Brad Scott Anderson get a bit rough with you?” He got a perverse pleasure when Ellie gasped at his contemptuous tone and raised her hand to her throat in a feeble attempt to cover the bruises.

  “Go to hell, Reilly,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “That was a nasty thing to say. For your information, the bruises are just little souvenirs of my visit to Hector Abbott.” She turned away from him, but he reached out and pulled her back.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “The interview was just about over,” she replied stiffly, “As Abbott stood to leave he suddenly reached over and grabbed me. It was over in seconds—the guards were quick off the mark—and there’s no real damage done.” She kept her report matter-of-fact, but her heart sank. This could be the excuse he was seeking to relegate her to desk duty.

  “Jeez, I knew I shouldn’t have let you…why didn’t you report this to me?” Reilly was hoarse with rage. The very thought of that animal touching her…

  “Because I knew you’d make exactly the kind of fuss you’re making now,” she replied, holding his angry gaze. “I didn’t want to be pulled out of the real work and set down at a computer, or something.”

  Reilly was silent for a few moments, staring out into the night. “And where was Richards when all this was going on?”

  “Jay Richards? What has he got to do with this?”

  “He was supposed to accompany you—as your sergeant.”

  “Well, he didn’t show up for the appointment. For God’s sake, Reilly, don’t do this to me—don’t partner me with Richards!”

  Reilly spat a vicious curse aimed at Jay Richards, then turned to her. “Maybe he’s not the best, but we’re short of manpower and he’s good when he gets off his lazy ass.” Reilly placed his hands on her shoulders, adding, “You don’t have to be this compulsive. I know you think you’ve got a lot to prove, but you’d be better taking it slow and steady rather than trying to be the whiz kid.” He pointed a finger at her bulging briefcase.

  “Is this advice from one whiz kid to another?” Ellie snapped back.

  “Ah, now, all my stripes were earned fair and square,” he said with a grin that made her realize he was baiting her. Her anger faded, to be replaced by a soul-deep longing. With a lump rising in her throat, she tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Oh, Lord, how she had missed him; missed his strength and passion and, most of all, the love he had showered on her in a thousand different ways.

  He was still holding her shoulders. He read her emotions in her eyes and with a soft answering groan he pulled her closer and lowered his mouth to her bruised throat. She gave a long, low sigh of pleasure as he feathered light kisses on the tender skin, and her lips sought his in a kiss so inflamed that the power of it left them clinging together in the moonlight. Ellie thought she would be happy if the moment never ended.

  But it did, of course. He stepped back from her, his face unreadable, and took the keys from her hand to insert in the new lock. He pushed the door open and walked ahead of her into the cottage, flicking on lights as he went, checking the rooms for intruders. Protecting me, Ellie thought in wonder.

  “No unwanted intruders,” he said, smiling a little as he looked down into her face. Ellie knew in that instant if he led her toward the bedroom, she would follow without hesitation. Her whole body flooded with hot desire and she moved toward him, ready to make the first overture herself.

  But Reilly hugged her gently. “It wouldn’t work,” he told her. “Not now.”

  And with a regretful smile, he told her that a squad car would pick her up the next morning, and that he’d have the clamps taken off her car. Then he was gone.

  Leaving Ellie wondering about his earlier words. Did he mean he was no longer interested in her? But she’d felt the strength of his arousal as he held her close, and read the tumult of emotions in his eyes. Trying to ignore the aching desire gnawing at her, she shut her door firmly on the night and shot the new dead bolt into place. But she could not lock Reilly from her mind, and his image shadowed her into bed. She lay in the half-darkness, listening as the full moon egged the sea to a tidal assault against rocks and sand, and trying to absorb Reilly’s revelation.

  Images of him wounded, in pain, haunted her. His courage in facing gunmen to rescue another officer rewarded him with a bullet, with pain an
d banishment to another country because of threats to his life. Reilly, alone, without her by his side.

  Now she knew the source of Reilly’s anger. He had every right to feel that way about her. With shame she remembered the accusations she’d flung at him—that he’d used her disgrace to grab the promotion that should have been hers. Somehow it all seemed too insignificant now, compared with the truth.

  And another truth wouldn’t let her escape into sleep. She loved him, and she’d lost him.

  ****

  The man was watching outside Ellie’s cottage, darkness shrouding him as deeply as his own despair. He’d done the unthinkable—and it had made no difference. He had achieved nothing. It hadn’t brought her to him. He watched the cottage lights go out, one by one, and then walked with slumped shoulders silently along the lane. He had to end this.

  Resort to Murder

  CHAPTER TEN

  She’d expected the nightmares to return now that she was back on the force, but tonight instead of dreaming of bloody corpses crying out for justice, she’d had slow, sensuous dreams of Liam Reilly. Dreams she awoke from reluctantly, fighting wakefulness all the way until unfamiliar sounds hooked her attention and brought her wide-awake.

  She sat up in bed and gazed at the dull gray square beyond her window. Dawn was coming quickly, the sky lightening toward day. Had she really heard footsteps on the path outside? Ellie realized her hands were fisted around the blanket, and slowly, deliberately, she forced herself to relax and listen. Yes, there it was again! Fear fluttering in her chest like a trapped moth, she jumped out of bed and was pulling on her jeans and sweater when a light tapping sounded at the front door.

  Intruders with bad intentions don’t usually knock politely, Ellie mocked herself. But the assurance didn’t stop her from grabbing up a heavy steel flashlight from the dresser before opening the door a crack without undoing the chain.