Fatal Fiction (Harbour Bay Book 5)

by Camille Taylor

  Riley retrieved her purse then waved to the team who said their goodbyes before stepping forward, invading Nick’s personal space since he didn’t move back. His heat liquefied her insides and made her knees weak.

  “You know I’ve always meant to ask. Does the force have some kind of height restriction? That anyone under six feet need not apply?”

  Her gaze flicked to his teammates again.

  Nick grinned. He looked down at Riley…way down. He must have seven inches on her. Ten without heels. They must look ridiculous standing beside each other, her petite and five foot two, him a behemoth of over six feet.

  “I never thought about it like that but I see your point. And the answer is no, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t hurt the yearly calendar.”

  He laughed as he took her elbow lightly, slowing his stride to match her much smaller one.

  There was a calendar? He was kidding, right? How did she not know about this?

  “Got you thinking about one, haven’t I? You shameless hussy.”

  Nick stabbed the elevator button with his finger.

  She tapped her foot impatiently. “Well, is there?”

  One shoulder rose and dropped. “No idea. But maybe we should look into it. Can’t let the fireys have all the fun now, can we?”

  She’d pay to see that. But she wasn’t about to inflate his ego more so she rolled her eyes and refrained from commenting.

  His eyebrows waggled. “You think I’m bad? Just you wait. Where we’re heading next will make me look like a saint.”

  Riley had a feeling, she wasn’t about to like their next stop.

  Chapter 19

  Riley stared out the window of Nick’s police-issued vehicle as they pulled into a cul-de-sac. The houses lining each side of the street had been built in the past twenty years, their lawns tidy and well-kept. She noticed a few cars in the driveway but most of the occupants would still be at work. She frowned when Nick eased into the empty driveway of a sandstone brick one storey house with an old metal two-seater swing resting under the protection of the porch’s colorbond roofing overhang.

  Without a word, Nick got out the car and walked around the hood of the car to stop beside the passenger door and opened it. “You coming?”

  Riley took the outstretched hand he offered and allowed him to help her out of the car. Childish squeals of delight floated on the breeze, the sun peeking through the clouds making what would be a cold day somewhat bearable.

  Nick directed Riley towards the front door, his left hand clasping her right elbow and his free hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys before unlocking the front door and waiting for Riley to precede him.

  A TV sounded from a nearby room, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen causing Riley’s stomach to growl. Nick looked over at her and she blushed. “I usually snack during the day, so I’m a little behind in my schedule.”

  “I wasn’t saying anything.”

  A woman in her late fifties who Riley immediately recognised as Nick’s mother appeared from around the corner. She wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, a baby pink apron covering her clothes. A huge smile broke out on her face as her gaze found her baby boy.

  “Hey, Mum,” Nick said, moving toward the still good-looking woman and kissed her cheek.

  “Honey,” she turned her head in the direction of the large sitting room to the left. “Look, Nick’s here and he brought a lady friend.”

  An older gentleman with Nick’s features, interest plain on his face got up from his recliner parked dead centre of the view to the TV where last night’s game between the Bronco’s and the Titan’s was playing. She already knew the score having checked it on her mobile when she had woken up. The Bronco’s winning by the skin of their nose 16-14.

  “Nicholas, my boy, is it lunch already?” His father eyed Riley, his eyes warm. She sensed this man laughed a lot.

  Riley shifted on her feet, uncomfortable from the scrutiny Nick’s parents were giving her.

  Nick laughed. “You know I love Mum’s cooking, but that’s not why I’m here.” He stepped back to join Riley, his hand once more going to her elbow. “Mum, Dad, this is Riley O’Neill.”

  The two Doyles’ shared a look before turning back to her and Nick with big welcoming smiles on their faces.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, honey. I’m Jackie and this is Donald.” Jackie tapped her husband’s shoulder. “Please make yourself at home.”

  Okay, so she couldn’t fault Nick on his generic endearments. It was obvious he had caught the sentiment from his mother. She smiled. Nick was his mother’s son.

  “Actually, Mum, Riley’s a little hungry.” He shrugged when Riley glared at him. “What? You are.”

  She waved off Nick’s comment. “I’m fine, really.”

  “I have to run. Is it okay if Riley hangs out here for a while?”

  “Of course, we’d love to have her.”

  A firestorm flooded her system, every nerve ending screaming. “Where are you going?”

  Nick’s gaze shifted to her. “Back to work. I have a few more things to do today which I can’t put off and you can’t tag along to. I thought you’d be more comfortable here.”

  She almost laughed. She was more comfortable in a police station, having practically been raised in one.

  “Why couldn’t I have just stayed at home?” Her heart raced at having called Nick’s apartment home. Nothing had ever sounded so right from her lips.

  “Because a security consultant is arriving today to change the locks and increase security.”

  “I could’ve stayed.”

  “No. You would’ve been vulnerable.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re being unreasonable.”

  He wasn’t the only one. How could she explain the terror racing through her at the thought of being left at the Doyles’ alone?

  Nick nodded. “I am. Take a long look in the mirror. This guy is a sociopath. You know what he’s capable of. Dean tasked me with making sure you live. I take that seriously, despite your many efforts to challenge me at every turn.”

  Riley glanced over her shoulder. His parents were still there, appearing most interested in their conversation. Riley returned her attention to Nick and looked up at him pleadingly. He stepped back, toward the door. Riley followed him, lowering her voice. “Please don’t leave me.”

  She was afraid she didn’t just mean now. She’d become dependent on him over the last few days. Would she ever be able to return to her old life?

  Those dark eyebrows drew down. “It’s okay, Riley.”

  No, it wasn’t. Her stomach was cramping as panic rose.

  Opening the front door, Nick turned back around to face her. “You’re safe here. My parents kept unwanted suitors away from my sisters their entire teenage years. Believe me, that was no easy feat. They’ll protect you too.”

  Her anxiety didn’t alleviate and she bit her lower lip.

  “I hardly think your parents are any protection against a sadistic killer.”

  “You’d be surprised. Mum has a pretty accurate hand with a wooden spoon.”

  The joke fell flat to her ears with all the blood rushing to them.

  Fear ripped through her. She was used to temperamental writers and strong-willed executives but families were a different beast. Especially this family. She’d heard stories about the Doyles’ and Jackie was the kind of mother who was devoted to her children, creating a loving, stable home. She had little experience with those. Her own family dinners were cold in comparison, eating whatever her culinary limited brother had prepared. Her father was usually MIA or engrossed in his latest case. There was no sharing of one’s daily activities or small talk. Her father hadn’t been a bad man. Just lost after her mother passed and no longer able to communicate with his children. She felt completely inept at handling families and despised Nick for putting her in this position.

  Her hands went to her hips. “Don’t you dare leave me, Nich
olas Leon Doyle.”

  She froze, refusing to blush at the words she couldn’t take back. She hadn’t meant to call him that, but in her annoyance, it had just slipped out but had felt oddly right.

  Nick grinned, disarming her. “Relax, Riley Siobhan O’Neill. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Riley blinked, surprised he knew her whole name. She hadn’t thought he’d taken the time to learn anything about her. He’d proven her wrong.

  Nick took advantage of Riley’s stunned silence and exited the house, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Donald chuckled as he made his way back to his black leather recliner and sat down. Now that the excitement was over, he returned to the game on TV.

  A woman with Nick’s raven hair and midnight blue eyes, her hair cut short just shy of the pixie style came to stand beside her mother, a young pudgy baby on her hip.

  “Was that Nicky?”

  “Yes, he had to run,” Jackie replied as she stroked her grandchild’s palm with her finger, love on her face.

  Riley met the somewhat startled gaze of Nick’s sister, whose mouth dropped open and formed an ‘O’. The woman leaned toward her mother and asked, “Riley?”

  Jackie nodded.

  The woman before her looked Riley up and down, clearly assessing her. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just Nick’s told us all about you.” Jackie jabbed her elbow into her daughter’s free side and was rewarded with a grunt and then a glare. “What? He has. I’m Monique by the way, I’m the second eldest.”

  Riley struggled to take in all the information Monique had provided in the last few minutes. She quickly recovered. “I hope that it wasn’t all bad.”

  Smiling, Monique shifted the baby to the other hip. “Actually, none of it was.” She stared at Riley’s hair for a moment before shaking her own head. “Always had a thing for redheads,” she muttered. “It all started with Jessica Rabbit, and from that moment on we all endured watching Who Framed Roger Rabbit? over and over. He had the biggest crush on her.”

  “Monique, stop. Nick’ll kill you when he finds out you’ve been blabbing about him.”

  “Just trying to put Riley at ease.” Monique ran her hand over the baby’s head. “So, Riley, are you seeing anyone?”

  “Ah, no,” she said slowly and then was thankfully distracted when two identical six-year-old twin girls came running into the room. Riley stepped back just in time to narrowly avoid been trodden on.

  “Girls be careful, you almost ran over Uncle Nick’s friend, Riley. Besides Nanna told you not to run in the house, didn’t she?”

  Two dark heads bobbed, up and down. “Yes, Mummy,” they said in unison.

  Eyes widening, Riley caught Monique’s gaze who laughed. “Oh, don’t worry the twin gene comes from my husband’s side of the family. So, unless you have twins in your family I’d say you have nothing to worry about.”

  It took a moment for her to understand what Monique was saying. She quickly shook her head, opening her mouth to right the misinterpretation, but no words came out. Nick’s nieces took the silence as an opportunity to pounce on Riley. “Do you like dolls?” the one on the left asked.

  Riley looked from one to the other, trying to spot any distinguishing marks which would tell them apart easily. She found none.

  Jackie shooed the girls away. “You leave Riley alone, she’s about to have lunch, maybe afterwards you can ask her to play.”

  “Oh, all right,” came the dejected responses and Riley felt bad. She took a step forward, intending on going with them but Monique reached out and stopped her. “If you go after them they’ll never learn patience and think they’ll get what they want when they want it. So relax and rest up because believe me you’ll need your energy to keep up with those two.”

  Riley adhered to the woman’s wisdom. She glanced down at the baby and smiled. The baby reached her chubby little hands out toward her and Monique generously relinquished her daughter. Bella, as she soon discovered and so Monique said was just like her uncle Nick after she grabbed hold of the closest red ringlet and refused to let go.

  Riley smiled, not in the least upset and relished Bella’s sweet weight in her arms, her heart-warming.

  The doorbell sounded and Riley spun around to face the door as Monique opened it.

  “Nick?” she called out, rushing over and her heart sunk as she spotted yet another Doyle sister. They were hard not to recognise. This one was pregnant and battling with an empty pram and a two-year-old. Monique immediately went to her sister’s rescue, lifting the pram into the house and scooping up her niece at the same time.

  The newly arrived sister turned and focused on Riley, her little outburst not going unnoticed. She blushed and knew her cheeks probably matched her hair. “God, I hope not, it would mean he’s let himself go,” she joked, patting her rounded tummy.

  “I’ll let Mum know you’re here so she can set the table for another two. This is Riley by the way, Nick’s friend,” Monique told her sister before hurrying off towards the kitchen.

  “Hi, I’m Marissa.” She stopped on her way past, giving Riley a reassuring smile as she stroked her niece’s cheek. “Hey, Daddy.”

  Donald rose to kiss his daughter. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Bloated.” The woman’s lips stretched, clearly not at all worried over her condition. “I heard from Rose and she’ll be here in twenty.”

  “Oh, good grief your brother is going to kill your mother when he finds out. How long will Kimberly be?”

  Marissa shrugged. “I don’t know but I’d say sometime in the next hour.”

  Donald Doyle muttered something under his breath and his daughter smirked. Riley only just managed to make out his words from the distance, something about Jackie and her damn telephone.

  Nick’s sister made her way back to Riley. “You like kids.” It wasn’t a question, rather a statement. Riley kissed Bella’s head through the soft baby fuzz. Her heart skipped a beat and her womb contracted. As always, she tried pushing the feeling away only this time it wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t going to survive the afternoon.

  Before she had a chance to reply, Jackie came back into the room and smiled fondly at Riley. “I just heard from my daughters, they’ll be here for lunch too.”

  Marissa rolled her eyes and winked at Riley. “Daddy already knows, I just told him.”

  Jackie patted her daughter’s stomach. “How is my little granddaughter?”

  “Katie’s doing fine. Do you have any nephews or nieces, Riley?”

  “None by blood but I sort have adopted some of my friends’ children. I do have a goddaughter, Heather.” Pride laced her declaration. She couldn’t help it. She loved Heather.

  “That’s right, you share her with Nick.” Monique re-emerged from the kitchen, her face flushed, having obviously been privy to her mother’s schemes.

  Riley cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s right. We’re both her godparents.”

  “Dean Matthews, now there’s a yummy man.” Monique sighed. “Too bad he’s taken now, I’d held out hope that I could set him up with Rose.”

  Three sets of blue eyes then turned to her. Riley stepped back, almost feeling the urge to match-make coming from the women. “Before you get any ideas I’m only with Nick at the moment because I’m a target. It has nothing to do with me personally. I’m sure he does this with every damsel in distress. Believe me when I say I’ve never been with him in the biblical sense.” Riley was proud that she managed to set them straight and hold onto her voice at the same time.

  “But you’d like to, right?” Monique’s eyebrows rose and fell suggestively.

  Riley’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe they were discussing her and Nick having sex. Sure, women talked about these things all the time but not with family members.

  “I think you’ve startled her into silence,” Marissa told her sister.

  Monique winked. “She’ll soon get over that. If she’s going to be a part of the fami
ly she needs to know we take no prisoners.”

  Stepping forward, Jackie placed her motherly hands on Riley’s shoulders. “Why don’t you sit down my dear, you’ve had a few shocks we don’t want you to pass out. Nick will never forgive us if we hand you back with a scratch. I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.” She guided Riley into the family room and applied pressure to her shoulders to have her sit on the couch pressed up against the wall. She patted Riley’s shoulders in a ‘there there everything will be all right’ gesture before she left.

  The family room was small, the painted walls faded and was filled with the general clutter one found after living in a house for years. Toys messily filled one corner and began to stretch further into the living space. A large bookshelf overflowed with all types of novels from James Patterson to Nora Roberts and held several dictionaries and encyclopaedias also. One wall was completely filled with framed photos of the family, starting with the five Doyle children as babies then as they grew up and started families of their own. A large open fireplace stood against the opposite wall, red flames flickered in its enclosure as it heated the room, spreading out to warm the rest of the house.

  Riley sat on the comfortable leather couch, her mind running in ten different directions and she was unable to catch one coherent thought. A brief shot of pain brought her back to life and she caught hold of the little hand tugging on one of her ringlets and gently unlatched herself from the chubby clutches. Bella giggled as Riley bounced her knee.

  Donald looked over at her and smiled. “You’re a fine choice, you’ll bear me some grandsons—finally, poor Nick and I are unfairly outnumbered.”

  Riley closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “I’m not Nick’s girlfriend, really.”

  They didn’t understand Nick didn’t want her.

  Donald chuckled. “Maybe not now but you will be.”

  ***

  By the end of the day, she’d talked Nick’s family into trying several new books and had her fill of cookies to the point she didn’t think she eat another. Ever. The warmth of the Doyle household had left her limp and envious of Nick, of his wonderful, embracing parents. She’d been hugged more today than in her entire life. Which only highlighted how sad her life was.