Panic and fear had him staggering to his feet and half running and limping into the darkness. He sped around the curve in the road, but instead of fleeing down the steep hill, he ducked behind a bush and made himself as small as possible. Not a moment too soon, either.
Footsteps thudded after him.
“Can you see him?” a man asked.
“No,” a woman replied. “I’ll call the manager.”
A few seconds later, Jeff heard her speaking to someone on her phone.
Jeff’s breaths came in noisy gasps, and he covered his mouth with his hand to minimize the noise. The last thing he wanted was for them to catch him and cart him off. That would magnify his problems.
One—the cops might fingerprint him and discover that Jeffrey Howard wasn’t his actual name. And two—if the cops got their hands on him, Matthew would learn of his capture because he had contacts everywhere.
That would make it easy for Matthew to get to him. His life wouldn’t be worth crap.
Damn, Grace Feeney.
17
BREAK IN
Cullen spotted the cop car and its flashing lights as they reached the summit. He stopped, his gut telling him to survey the vicinity. He’d learned to trust his instincts.
“What is it?” Grace whispered, obeying his silent command to halt.
“Not sure. Can you see anything out of place?”
“No, but it’s weird. I’d swear someone was watching us.”
“Yeah,” Cullen agreed. “Let’s hustle. It’s safer nearer the cop in the light.”
Susan, the lodge manager, was speaking with the cop and spotted them first. She smiled, but it was clear her hostess duties were automatic and her smile ragged at the edges. “Ah, you’re back from kiwi spotting. How was it?”
“It was brilliant,” Grace said, answering for both of them. “We saw six different kiwis tonight. The guide said it was a lucky group. It was… Words can’t describe how wonderful seeing a kiwi in the wild is—so unique.”
“I’m glad.” Susan smiled again, but now they were closer, it was easy to see the strain in her features and her clenched fingers. “Unfortunately, we’ve had trouble here tonight. Someone—a man—broke into three of the rooms. One of them was yours. Can you go with Bryan, our local cop, and let him know if anything is missing?”
Cullen shared a glance with Grace.
“It was a man?” he asked.
“Yes, two of the guests arrived back from a different kiwi excursion. The man smashed their window as they stepped onto the deck.”
“Do we have a description?” Cullen asked.
“Close to six feet in height. Possibly blond hair but they can’t be certain. He was wearing dark clothes. They only glimpsed him for a moment.”
Cullen caught Grace’s frown, and it was apparent their minds ran in tandem. Cullen squeezed her hand, and she pressed her lips together. It might be better if they waited until they had the cop alone before they spoke about Jeff.
“Can we check our room?” Grace asked.
“Sure,” Bryan said. He was much shorter than Cullen and close to fifty, but the gray-haired man moved with ease and appeared fit. Cullen noted the way Bryan’s gaze swept the area and approved. This man knew what he was doing, and despite being a cop in a small town where they probably had little trouble, he took his job seriously.
The cop led the way along the deck. Their room was the middle one of the three at the end. “Watch out for the glass. It’s all over the floor. Can you take a quick look and tell me if anything is missing?”
“I had my camera and wallet with me. Hopefully, my tablet is still in the bedside drawer,” Grace said.
Cullen had left nothing valuable but scanned the drawers’ contents beside the bed before doing a rapid walk-through the rest of their room. He returned to speak to the police officer. “I can’t see anything out of place or missing.”
Grace came to join them, her cute nose wrinkled in a frown. “Nothing of mine is missing.”
“Right. Neither of you has seen anyone skulking around the place?” the cop asked.
Grace exchanged a glance with him, and Cullen answered for both of them.
“No,” he said. “We’ve been in and out while trying to see as much of Stewart Island as possible.”
“Understandable,” the cop said. “If you see anything or remember something, let me know.”
“Sure,” Cullen said.
Grace gestured at their room floor. “Can we clean up the glass now?”
The cop removed his camera from the bag he carried. “I’ll take photos first.”
“No, you’re not cleaning up,” Susan stated from behind them. She handed over a bottle of wine. “It’s a lovely evening now that the wind has dropped. Why don’t you sit out here while I sort out this mess?”
“We don’t mind helping.”
“No, I won’t hear of it,” the woman said. “If you’d prefer a cup of tea, I can bring you a pot.”
“A glass of wine sounds lovely,” Cullen said because it was obvious Susan was in shock and rattled by the break-in. This was her way of regaining control.
“I’ll be right back with snacks to go with that drink.” She disappeared before anyone could object.
“This is Susan’s way of making sure her guests are okay,” the cop said, confirming Cullen’s theory. “Best to roll with it until she regains her equilibrium.”
Cullen took Grace’s hand and led her outside. They chose seats at an out-of-the-way table, and Cullen dragged their chairs close together.
“You okay?” In the dim light, he surveyed her features.
Grace frowned and leaned closer. “Do you think it’s Jeff?”
“The turd? Why would he do something like that?”
“Maybe the statue he keeps harping on about? We didn’t check it too closely,” Grace murmured. “I mean, it looked ordinary to me, but what if there is something inside it?”
“I meant to break it open, but you distracted me.” He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “We’ll check it out once we can get back in our room. We might as well have a glass of this lovely red wine and chill. Are you tired?”
“No, not really. I’m too excited to sleep.”
“Excellent.” Cullen cupped her face and gave in to his urge to kiss her properly. This woman made his thoughts turn to his future. Maybe he should think harder on Josh’s proposition to look after his security business when Ash needed Josh’s help with diplomatic functions and the like. Cullen pulled back, trying to keep the kiss from escalating into something unfit for outside the bedroom.
With regret, he stepped away and opened the bottle of pinot. It was a rich, ruby red as he poured the wine into the two glasses. He handed a glass to Grace and picked up his to offer a toast. “To friends and lovers,” he said.
Grace grinned. “Friends and lovers.” She drank and issued an appreciative sigh. “This is delicious.” She set down her glass, her expression slipping into a frown. “We think Jeff was into drugs, right?”
“The clues point that way,” Cullen agreed.
“What do we do if we find drugs inside the statue?”
“We need to make sure it’s still where I left it first,” Cullen cautioned. “We look once it’s safe, and if we find anything suspicious, we’ll go to the local cop with what we have. He’ll know what to do.”
“But if Jeff is here—”
“Remember, you promised not to speak of the idiot. I have other things I’d prefer to discuss with you.”
“Like what?”
Cullen glanced over his shoulder and sipped his wine while he waited for the cop to move on to one of the other rooms. Once they were alone again, he placed his glass on the table and took Grace’s from her too. He scooped her off her chair and plopped her on his knee, grinning at her feminine eep of surprise. Cullen wrapped his arms around her and claimed her mouth, showing her with actions rather than words how he’d prefer to spend his time. She softened, leaning i
nto him and chasing his lips when he would’ve spoken again.
“Like a night of hot sex,” he said once he’d lifted his head.
“It’s morning. It has to be because it was eleven-thirty when we left the boat at the jetty.”
Cullen waggled his eyebrows at Grace. “Even better. Morning sex.”
“Pfff,” Grace said, but she was laughing. “I’m going to need a holiday when we get home to rest up.”
“I was hoping there would be lots of resting together,” Cullen said, watchful when her smile faded. “Our friendship won’t end once we arrive home or when I get back from my next furlough. Beautiful, Grace, if that’s where your mind is going, you need to do a U-turn. I’m serious about you. I’ve told you that before, but I guess after the douchebag, it’s hard to get your head straight. That kind of thing can rattle a woman and create turmoil with her commonsense.”
Grace’s mouth fell open, and she resembled a cute urchin. She poked him in the chest. “Are you telling me I’m a nutcase?”
“If you’re thinking about throwing something perfect like our relationship away, then yes. That makes you silly. Do you know how many people find the one who completes them and fills their angst with calmness? Not many. That’s why divorce rates are so high. Men and women keep trying because they know the gold at the end of the rainbow is worth it.”
Her eyes grew enormous and round, and her mouth had fallen open again. He didn’t warn her if she kept this up, he might give her a new nickname—goldfish. Goldie for short.
“You really think we’re that suited for each other? The years between us don’t bother you?”
“Have you ever known me to lie to you, cupcake?”
“You’ve always been truthful. I remember when I was babysitting you, and my boyfriend came to visit. You told me he was a waste of my time.” She grinned at the memory.
“You were angry when I said it,” Cullen said with caution.
“Why did you say that? Most kids of your age wouldn’t have commented. They would’ve hidden in their room or watched television or played X-Box.”
“I liked you then. You differed from the other babysitters Mum arranged for us.”
“Oh.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Cullen’s heart did a weird jig against his chest. “I like you a lot, Grace. I always have. Please give us a chance, and don’t worry about other people’s opinions or what the dick told you.”
“Okay,” she said. “I can do that since I return the sentiment. These few days have been so much fun. We enjoy the same things, and I’ve never had that with another man. Plus, you encourage me in my baking, and you don’t tell me I’m wasting my time. You’re my champion.”
“I am,” he agreed, and because he couldn’t help it, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again. The kiss started gently, but he tried to put everything in his heart into the interaction. The more time he spent with Grace, the more confident he was of what he wanted for his future.
Grace.
While she might have doubts—hell, she kept bringing them up and placing roadblocks where none existed—he had none.
Grace pulled back, her luscious breasts rising and falling rapidly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing to me, Cullen Turner,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I can’t concentrate when you kiss me, touch me. It’s like my brain packs up and goes on holiday.”
“Mine too,” Cullen replied. “But I’m embracing the magic between us. I want what my friends have with their wives. I want more than this week, but I’ve told you that already.”
“Okay.”
“You said that before,” Cullen said, this time with a bite in his words. He was a military man, used to following orders and making decisions on his own whenever necessary. “I won’t change my mind, cupcake. Now kiss me again, then we’ll watch the stars together and finish this delightful wine.”
In answer, Grace initiated their next kiss, her soft lips pressing against his. Immediately, the tension generated by the repeated discussion of their relationship faded. His heart beat faster, and he groaned against her mouth. His last remaining thought before he lost himself in her was that for this to end would be a crime.
Grace clung to Cullen, so happy she wondered if her heart might burst.
“Uh-hum.” A cough accompanied the non-committal sound.
Grace gasped against Cullen’s lips, and heat rushed to her cheeks. Cullen didn’t seem to harbor the same discomfort and merely gave her a quick peck on the mouth and loosened his hold enough for them to both glance in Susan’s direction.
“I’m sorry for the interruption,” she said. “The glass is cleared away, and I’ve placed a temporary board across the hole. I’ll get my handyman to make the repairs tomorrow. That’s if I can get replacement glass from Invercargill.”
Grace smiled at the woman. “It won’t matter if the glass takes a few days. Cullen and I realize none of this is your fault.”
Susan dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I’ve left the door shut, but it’s not locked. Good night,” she added hurriedly as two people walked up the stairs at the far end of the deck. She rushed over to them and spoke in a quiet voice.
“This break-in has distressed her,” Cullen said.
“I’m not surprised. The crime rate is low here.” She started to scramble off Cullen’s lap, but he tightened his grip around her waist. “There is a perfectly good seat over there.”
“I like touching you,” he stated in a voice that suggested her arguments would lead nowhere. “This way is perfectly comfortable.”
Grace gave in and reached for her glass of wine. She took a sip, savoring the fruity taste across her taste buds. “This wine is delicious.”
Cullen picked up his glass and drank. “As soon as we’re finished here, we’ll get the statue and scrutinize it more closely. You keep distracting me.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you with your sexy curves and gorgeous smile.”
“You really think there is something hinky about the statue?”
“This break-in is making my spidey senses tingle. I’ve learned not to ignore my gut. Every time I do, things haven’t gone well.”
“Let’s go now. We might as well take our wine with us.”
“All right,” he agreed.
Cullen helped her to balance until she stood on her feet. Once he rose, she picked up her glass and followed Cullen into their room.
True to her word, the manager had cleared the mess, and apart from the board across the door, they’d never have known anything was amiss.
Cullen drew the curtains, taking extra care to ensure there were no gaps for anyone to peek. She understood what he was doing without asking.
“Is someone spying on us?”
“Yes,” Cullen said.
“I sensed eyes on us, but I told myself it was my imagination.”
“No, someone was watching. They kept out of sight, but they were there.” He hesitated. “I should investigate.”
“No,” Grace said. “We should check out the gnome doing the one-finger salute. Did you put it back in my bag? I’ll get it.”
“No, I’ll come with you, and we’ll open it in the walk-in wardrobe. Let me lock the door.”
Grace entered the area and flicked on the light. She dragged out her bag and unzipped the side pocket where she’d stashed the gnome. Its snooty expression always raised a smile, but this time, she scanned it with closer scrutiny. She turned the statue over and was studying it from all angles when Cullen joined her.
“I can’t see anything strange about it. There aren’t any seams.”
“No,” Cullen agreed. “I didn’t see any join. We’ll have to smash it.”
“Wait. I quite like it. I don’t like the idea of destroying it.” She shook the gnome and set it down on a wardrobe shelf. “If there is something inside the statue, it’s not rattling around.”
“Perhaps we can break the bottom,” Cullen suggested. “Le
t me grab my knife to break it open.”
“Are you sure we have to damage it?”
“Why would the dipstick want this statue back?”
Grace shrugged. “You’re right. Initially, I took it because it seemed appropriate payback. A way of giving him the finger.”
Cullen grinned. “Understandable, although I would’ve flattened his nose.” He disappeared and reappeared with a knife.
“Where did that come from?”
“My bag,” he said. “But I always sleep with it within reach. This knife has saved my life a time or two.”
Grace suppressed her shudder and fought to keep her face impassive. While intellectually she understood Cullen’s army job placed him in danger, she’d tried not to dwell on it. That had been easier when she hadn’t known how it felt to kiss him.
Cullen used the knife hilt to give the base of the gnome a sharp tap. The statue split in half, spilling bags of white pills across the floor. Grace gaped at the contents.
“Drugs,” Cullen said. “Ecstasy, probably.”
“In my house,” Grace said in a faint voice. “This was going on under my nose. I’ve been so stupid.”
“This isn’t your fault. You have a kind heart, and the moron took advantage of your good nature.”
“What are we going to do now?”
“Right now, I’m going to hide everything in a bag. In the morning, we’ll visit the local cop and hand everything over to him.”
Grace stooped to pick up the packets.
“No,” Cullen said in a sharp voice. “We don’t want our fingerprints on the packets. A precaution.”
“How will you pick them up, then?”
Cullen retreated and returned seconds later with a handful of tissues and the plastic bag that had formerly held a pair of his shoes. “This should do the trick.”
18
ON THE TRAIL
Grace stepped back to get out of the way, allowing Cullen to take charge. The truth—his presence soothed her shock. She would’ve panicked and picked up the packets. She might’ve flushed them down the loo or done something similar instead of taking them to the local policeman.
Protecting the Bride Page 15