Duplicity--A Tale of Murder, Mystery and Romance

by H. D. Thomson

  He was hard.

  She gasped, her breath hissing loudly in the stillness of the room.

  “Ah, hell. You’ve got the most expressive face.”

  Cheeks getting hotter by the second, Katherine looked away and muttered, “Sorry.”

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for.” He laughed without humor. “I swear, if I had it in me, I’d have you on your back in two seconds. But right now, I wouldn’t do you justice.”

  After she shoved the towels at him, Katherine stuffed her fingers in the back of her jean pockets. That didn’t feel right, so she folded her arms around her middle. Only when she saw him wrap a towel around his waist from the corner of her eye, did she feel comfortable enough to look back at him.

  “Are you still in much pain?”

  “Nothing like before.” He gave her a half-smile. “It feels like I’m getting over a bad case of the stomach flu.”

  Water droplets glittered off his shoulders and trailed down the corded muscles across his chest and ribs. Katherine glanced to the area where both bullets had ruptured his skin. Her eyes widened. The angry, red welts had disappeared, and only light scar tissue remained.

  Clark ran a finger across one of the scars. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “That’s an understatement. Do you even get sick?”

  “Probably not.”

  With a hand against the tiled wall, Clark stepped from the shower stall. Katherine moved up to give him a hand, but he shook his head and managed to reach his room and sink down on the bed unaided. Grabbing his glass of water from the counter, she followed.

  When he tugged off his towel, another staring fit hit Katherine. Shoving the comforter aside, he slipped in bed and pulled the top sheet up around his waist. He really did have a wonderfully made body. Tight, muscled, but not bulky.

  “Thanks.”

  It took her a second to realize that he was talking about the water in her hand.

  “Oh, sure.”

  Clark took the water she offered, drank down several long swallows, and then rubbed the glass against his forehead.

  “Do you think you’ll be all right?” she asked, glad to see color back in his face. “I should let you get some rest.”

  He pulled the glass from his forehead and frowned. “I don’t want you going out that front door alone with a killer on the loose. Just give me a minute to rest.”

  “Sure.”

  Katherine glanced around the room. When she didn’t find a chair, she sank down on the edge of the bed by his hip and curled a leg beneath her, all the while trying not to think of his very naked body beneath that very flimsy sheet. But it was pretty darn hard to focus on anything else when the cloth clung to and outlined his damp legs and...other male parts. His chest, exposed from the waist up, didn’t help one iota either.

  Clark placed his glass on the carpet by the bed and caught her hand as he eased back against the mattress.

  “Talk to me,” he said, closing his eyes and twining his fingers with hers.

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I just want to hear your voice.” He squeezed her hand in encouragement. “What were you like growing up?”

  “Hmmm. Just normal.” Katherine laughed self-consciously. She couldn’t remember a time when someone asked about her life with any real interest. “Did I just say normal? I guess that’s not quite true. I had everything I pretty much wanted. Spoiled really. Birthday parties were huge productions. Clowns, ponies, you name it. Nothing was too much for my mother and father’s only child.

  “When I was young, we’d go down to Florida in the winter. At the time, the family had a condo on the beach. I’d get to bring a friend with me, and we’d spend hours in the water. I even took up surfing for a while.”

  “Ah.” Eyes still closed, Clark smiled and sighed almost whimsically. “I can imagine. Lethal. All tanned, with some killer bikini. I bet you had all the boys wrapped around your little finger.”

  Katherine laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That’s got to be some other girl, because I sure the heck didn’t have any boys chasing after me.”

  Clark’s eyes snapped open. “Then they must have been blind.”

  Feeling her cheeks warm at the astonishment in Clark’s face, Katherine teased, “Watch out. If you keep that up, I might just get used to all this flattery.”

  Clark’s face turned serious. “It’s not flattery. Flattery’s a shallow compliment. And nothing about you is shallow.”

  She froze, suddenly terribly conscious of the way his thumb moved back and forth against her wrist. And his eyes. The way he looked at her. So sincere, so intense.

  “And boyfriends. Anyone serious?”

  Katherine tensed. “No. Of course not. I wouldn’t have done—you know—had sex with you.”

  Color crept up his neck and into his face. “I meant growing up.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

  She’d embarrassed herself, and, if she could go by Clark’s ruddy cheeks, she’d done the same to him.

  Strangely, Katherine found his reaction endearing. There was something about a man blushing that touched her, that made her feel feminine, powerful and all warm inside. No. She didn’t have that right. It wasn’t just any man’s blush. It was Clark’s.

  “So you did have to fight them off.”

  “Not at all!” Katherine laughed. The man wouldn’t give up. “But there was one boy in the first year of college. We were serious for a while. My friends thought he was perfect. He was going into law and had an eye on politics. My mother loved everything about him.”

  “He sounds perfect. What happened?”

  Katherine’s slipped her hand from Clark’s. “We grew apart.”

  Clark’s brow furrowed as he searched her face. “People don’t grow apart. Not really. It’s an excuse someone uses when they want out. There’s always something more to it.”

  Katherine frowned at the blank wall above the bed. At times Clark could be too astute.

  “What really happened?”

  “I grew up,” Katherine finally said, unable to conceal the bitterness in her voice.

  “Okay. Hint taken. I won’t ask again.”

  Katherine sighed in relief. “And what about you? Any girlfriends I should know about?”

  “I don’t know.”

  At Clark’s soft-spoken reply and the way he flinched, Katherine wanted to sink into the floor at her insensitive question. Of course he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember. Katherine seriously needed to start thinking before she opened her mouth—be like her mother at least in that one aspect.

  When she’d first met Clark, she’d immediately looked to his left hand and noted his ring-less fingers, which didn’t necessarily mean anything. Many married men walked around without wedding bands. The idea of a woman, particularly a wife, in Clark’s life hurt. Hurt more than she liked to admit.

  She hadn’t had sex with Clark for the sake of sex. She’d never been the type to separate the act from her emotions. And Clark had been no exception. Slowly, day-by-day, moment-by-moment, she’d gotten involved, and if she got any more involved, she’d have her heart out there on a platter.

  “You could be married,” she said softly.

  “No.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because it’s something I would know.”

  Katherine shook her head and decided on this, tact was pointless. “Not necessarily. Not if you can’t remember anything.”

  “If I was in love with someone else, I wouldn’t feel the way I do about you.”

  Heart rate surging into an insane tempo, Katherine straightened. Afraid of the answer, but more fearful of the uncertainty, she asked, “And that is?”

  “I’m not sure.” He captured her gaze. “Love? I don’t know. But I do know that you’re always in my thoughts. I know I should keep away from you, but every time I try, I realize I can’t. I also know that whenever you’re in the same room with me, I get all t
ongue-tied and twisted inside. What man wouldn’t? You’re so damn beautiful. I’m not talking about your looks— Hell. Any man can see that. But inside...you’ve got this soul that’s so giving, so gentle, so—I can’t describe it. All I know is that I’m drawn to it.”

  Her throat tightened, and she blinked back the threat of tears. “For someone who says they get all tongue-tied, you’re doing an amazing job. I don’t know what to say...”

  He shook his head against the pillow. “Then don’t say anything now. Maybe later. When I can think clearly, and I’m not so tired.”

  Sighing, Clark closed his eyes. Katherine sat on the edge of the bed and watched as his breathing slowed and deepened, and his brow cleared. When she realized he’d fallen asleep, she uncurled her leg from under her and rose.

  Clark jerked awake and caught her wrist. “Don’t go.”

  She sank back down on the mattress. “Okay.”

  “Promise?”

  At the urgency, almost panic in his voice, Katherine stilled.

  “I promise.”

  How could she deny him such a simple request? She couldn’t. Then again, when it came to Clark, she didn’t have the willpower to say no.

  She sat silently on the edge of the bed and watched Clark fall asleep as night pressed against the bedroom window. Light from the bathroom cut across the bed and illuminated the harsh, masculine lines of Clark’s face.

  Sudden doubts crowded in on Katherine.

  The gun. The money.

  Of course, there was a rational, innocent explanation for both. Clark wasn’t a killer.

  Or was he?

  Chapter 24

  “So, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Seated behind her desk, Katherine looked from her computer to George, standing in the doorway to her office.

  “You mean Clark?” she asked

  “Well, yeah.”

  “He’s not causing any trouble, is he?”

  “No. He’s out in the kitchen playing poker with Tracy and a couple of others.”

  Loud laughter carried into her office, backing up George’s claim. Katherine dropped the pen in her hand and rose from her chair.

  “So who is he?” George asked.

  “A friend.”

  “Really. Since when do you bring ‘a friend’ to work with you?”

  “Since today.”

  Not that Clark had given her a choice. This morning, he’d shown up at her door, not budging from the porch until she agreed to bring him to work with her. And from the looks of things, he intended to stay glued to her side here on out. Katherine hated to admit she found his presence and special abilities reassuring. Not that she needed his protection, of course. She knew how to take care of herself just fine.

  Clark had even insisted she stay at a hotel until he resolved the situation with her uncle and the shelter. And she’d quickly insisted right back that she wanted no part of it. Hole up in some room, while Clark uncovered the mystery behind her uncle and the shelter? Not likely. Too many people depended on her. Plus, it was pretty darn hard to hide from one’s family.

  As for last night, neither of them had mentioned it or how she’d fallen asleep in his bed. Wrapped in Clark’s sheet and strong arms, she’d woken just before dawn. Without a word, she’d slipped from his bed and house. She hadn’t dared stay, liable to let her emotions sway her better judgment.

  Frowning, George rubbed at his gray beard. “Is something going on I should know about? You’ve been really jumpy the last couple of days.”

  She wasn’t about to pull anyone into her mess. “I’m okay, George. I’ve got everything under control.”

  He muttered under his breath as he followed her from her office and into the kitchen, where Katherine found Clark and three teenagers playing cards. A pile of mini chocolate bars sat in the middle of the kitchen table. Tracy, in the process of anteing up two of hers, clutched her cards close to her chest. A grin curved the young girl’s lips, wiping the usual sullen and distrustful expression from her eyes. With each day Katherine saw less and less of that look, which made her job all the more fulfilling.

  “So who’s winning?” Katherine asked.

  Zack, a fifteen-year-old with dreadlocks and a possible nest somewhere in that mass, grunted. “Tracy’s killing us. I think she’s cheating.”

  “Yeah, right. You wish, smart-ass. You’re just grasping. Can’t handle losing, can you?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “I still think you’re cheating.”

  “I don’t think she’s cheating. I think she’s just been playing us guys,” Clark said with a teasing smile. “She forgot to tell us that she’s an expert poker player.”

  “Expert, eh?” Tracy leaned back and crossed her ankles under the table. “I like the sound of that.”

  Clark caught Katherine’s gaze, and something in his smile changed. Tenderness. It softened the austere lines of his face and made Katherine feel all warm inside. Dressed in faded jeans and a navy sweatshirt, he looked relaxed and strangely at home surrounded by three teenagers.

  She smiled back. She couldn’t help it. That look in his eyes could curl any girl’s toes.

  Then there was last night. A new and undeniable bond tied them together. The harrowing events, Clark’s injuries, the mind-numbing fear of it all had forced her to see him in yet another new light. He had exposed his frailties and...a secret so profound. For Clark to trust her with something so powerful was humbling.

  She glanced over at Tracy and saw the girl’s sudden smirk. Katherine made a face at her, knowing exactly what ran through her little head. Clark wasn’t her boyfriend. Not that the idea didn’t have appeal... With each new day and minute, Katherine found herself steadily falling for Clark, and the scary part—she didn’t think she had it in her to stop herself. Or if she even wanted to.

  Tracy opened her mouth—no doubt—to spit out some wisecrack remark, but Katherine cut her off. “Not a word. You got that?”

  “Fu—” She broke off at Katherine’s look and sighed loudly. “Right. Whatever.”

  Shane, who’d shown up two days ago with nothing but the clothes on his back, stuck five mini bars into his mouth and chewed. Teeth stained an ugly brown, he asked George and Katherine. “Do you want in on the next round?”

  “That’s disgusting!” Tracy sneered. “Close your mouth. Show Clark we have some manners.”

  Shane’s face turned red, and he glared at Tracy. “At least I can eat without my tongue getting caught on something.”

  “I like my piercing. And at least I don’t have a butt hole for a mouth!”

  Before it turned ugly, Clark interrupted, “Hey, guys! How about we get back to the game and leave the name calling for another time? Katherine, George, did you want to join us?”

  Clark glanced Katherine’s way, and a look of understanding and respect crossed his features as if he knew how much she considered these kids her family, warts and all. Strange how Clark’s opinion meant more than many people in her life—particularly anyone in her family. Stranger still, for a man she’d only met a couple of weeks ago, he had such a profound effect on her. But then, feelings didn’t involve logic.

  George pulled up a chair, but Katherine shook her head. “I’d like to, but I’ll have to make it another time. I’ve got an important call to make.”

  Katherine retreated into her office and stared at her phone with dislike. Sinking down in her chair, she flipped through her Rolodex until she came to Kincaid’s number. For a full minute, she stared at the telephone and drummed her fingers against her desk. Okay. Other than going to his office, she didn’t see any other option, and since he didn’t take any of her calls...

  Before she chickened out, Katherine called Kincaid’s office and grabbed a pencil to twirl between her fingers.

  The receptionist answered. “Can I ask who’s calling?”

  “Sharon Spalding.”

  Knuckles rigged from strangling her pencil, she waited.

  “Hi, Sharon. How can I
help you?”

  “Actually...this is her daughter, Katherine.”

  Complete silence. Not a good sign.

  Katherine flipped the pencil between her fingers, and with the heel of her shoe swiveled around until she faced the wall and window. “Sorry for the dishonesty, but I couldn’t find any other way to get through. You haven’t been returning my calls.”

  For a moment, she thought he’d hung up, but then Kincaid said, “I’ve been extremely busy.”

  “That’s all very well, but I want a reason why you’ve stopped contributing to the shelter after almost two years. I think I deserve some explanation.”

  “I don’t know if it’s my place to get into this. Maybe you should talk to your mother.”

  Her fingers stilled on the pencil. “My mother?”

  “Well, yes. She’s the one I think you need to talk to. She recommended that I—Well, what your mother and I discussed is private.”

  “I guess I’ll do that then.” She hung up and muttered, “Thanks for nothing.”

  Katherine shoved her hair back from her face with one hand, uncaring if she looked like Medusa on a bad hair day. After flipping the Rolodex to the next number, she used the same exact tactics on Melrose.

  When Melrose dodged one question after another, Katherine asked, “Does this have anything to do with my mother?”

  A short pause followed before he prevaricated with, “I really don’t want to get into your family business.”

  Katherine had her answer. She hung up and stared out the window to the world outside. The sky, laden with thick, dark, turbulent clouds, matched her mood. The winter scene blurred as tears filled her eyes.

  Why? Katherine didn’t understand. She’d always known her mother never approved of her work, though Sharon had hidden it on occasion. But for her mother to pull something like this went beyond Katherine’s imagination. Impatiently wiping a balled fist beneath her eyes, Katherine laughed with rancor.

  Bitter? Oh, yes. She was bitter. Talk about feeling betrayed and manipulated. Just what type of woman had borne her? Katherine didn’t know anymore. If she ever had...