Whispers in the Night @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } �śThank you, Paul.” The look on her face was relaxed and full of trust. She closed her eyes, and in a moment he could see her even, shallow breathing, indicating that she was asleep. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her, watching her as she slept. He felt an odd stirring in the region of his heart, which perfectly complemented the way his gut was churning at his deceit. He should be rejoicing; he was finally on the informant’s trail. In the next few days, Paul was sure, he’d be able to find him and complete his goal, the one he’d set in motion by coming here to work for Kayla. What he was thinking about instead was something that gave him no joy whatsoever. He was starting to care about Kayla Thorne. To care about her a lot. God help him. And her. Whispers in the Night DIANE PERSHING Books by Diane Pershing Silhouette Intimate Moments While She Was Sleeping #863 The Tough Guy and the Toddler #928 Whispers in the Night #1337 Silhouette Romance Cassie’s Cowboy #1584 The Wish #1657 Ransom #1688 Silhouette Yours Truly First Date: Honeymoon Third Date’s the Charm DIANE PERSHING cannot remember a time when she didn’t have her nose buried in a book. As a child, she would cheat the bedtime curfew by snuggling under the covers with her teddy bear, a flashlight and a forbidden (grown-up!) novel. Her mother warned her that she would ruin her eyes, but so far, they still work. Diane has had many careers�"singer, actress, film critic, disc jockey, TV writer, to name a few. Currently she divides her time between writing romances and doing voice-overs. (You can hear her as Poison Ivy on the Batman cartoon.) She lives in Los Angeles, and promises she is only slightly affected. Her two children, Morgan Rose and Ben, have just completed college, and Diane looks forward to writing and acting until she expires, or people stop hiring her�"whichever comes first. She loves to hear from readers, so please write to her at P.O. Box 67424, Los Angeles, CA 90067 or online at [e-mail]. You can also visit Diane’s Web site at www.dianepershing.com. To Tom Gale, social visionary, poet extraordinaire and genial host. Thank you for the lovely week on your porch and the two books that came about as a result. Ain’t serendipity grand? And to the small but vibrant artists’ colony of Cragsmoor, New York. I borrowed liberally from your history, edifices and geography; I also invented some history, edifices and geography, which is why it’s called fiction. If I offend, I apologize in advance. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 1 C reak. The noise woke Kayla from a much-needed, dreamless slumber. Her eyes popped open and she sat straight up in bed. The bright red numbers of the bedside clock read 2:30 a.m. For several moments she remained frozen, trying to listen over the pounding of her heart. When nothing more happened, she figured�"hoped�"it had been her imagination, and slowly, she sank back down into her down-filled pillow, her lids drifting shut. Cre-e-eak. There it was again, coming from the porch directly below the bedroom. Not the high-pitched squeaking of the old chains that supported the double swing there, nor the cracking sound of tree limbs swaying in the wind. No, this was definitely creaking, and definitely coming from the porch, which had several loose wooden slats that protested loudly when someone was walking on them. Like now. All thoughts of sleep evaporated as fear coursed coldly through her veins. Oh, God, Kayla thought. Something or someone was on the porch. Quickly, her mind composed several explanations, none of them good. The likeliest was an animal. Of course, it would have to be a pretty heavy animal to make that noise. What kind of wildlife was up here? Deer? Coyotes? She shuddered. Bears? She would ask some of her neighbors, although she used the word loosely; there was nobody around for a couple of miles. Maybe she was making a big deal out of the whole thing. Cree-ee-eak. Or maybe she wasn’t. Her heartbeat accelerated. Were the doors locked? Yes, of course. The other times she’d been here at the cabin with Walter, he’d laughed gently at her city-girl fears and told her no one in the little mountain community of Cragsmont bothered locking doors. They all trusted one another. But without having Walter on this visit, she’d been unwilling to be quite so trusting herself. And the noises were getting louder. What to do? Kayla’s mind raced frantically, keeping time with her pulse. She could hide under the bed. Throughout a nightmarish childhood, she’d discovered that the way to stay out of danger was not to call attention to herself, to avoid becoming a target. But she didn’t do that anymore. For the past few years, she’d forced herself to meet danger and fearsome challenges head-on and deal with them. Not happily or easily, and not that the inner fear went away�"no, she was pretty sure she was one of the most frightened people in the world�"but, as best she could, she tried not to let the fear defeat her. And she wouldn’t let it defeat her now. Despite the dread, despite her rapid pulse rate, she summoned up reserves of strength. Throwing back the covers, feet dangling over the side of the bed, she ordered her imagination to rid itself of horrific fantasies while she considered her next move. At that moment, Bailey woke up. The aging, partly deaf, one-eyed Yorkshire terrier began to bark. Not because of the noise below, but because Kayla had dared to disturb his sleep. Not much of a watchdog, old Bailey, but company, at least. The sound of his bark was high-pitched and annoying, and automatically, Kayla tried to shush him. Then she changed her mind. Maybe barking was a good thing; yes, in fact, Bailey’s barking might scare off the intruder. Whoever or whatever that was. Licking her suddenly dry mouth and shivering from more than the chilled night air of early autumn, she put on her robe and her ridiculous-looking-but-oh-so-warm bunny slippers, then grabbed the poker from the fireplace in the corner. Ancient wood floors protesting under her feet, she left the shelter of the master bedroom and, scooping up the yipping dog, crept halfway down the stairs. �śHush,” she whispered to the small animal, briefly covering his snout with her cupped hand. He might frighten off an intruder, but her eardrums couldn’t take much more. Besides, Kayla needed to hear what was happening outside. Bailey, bless him, quieted down, curling his shivering body into a snug little ball. Holding him tightly, she strained her ears. There was more noise below, only now it came not from the porch, but from the side of the house. There was the sound of rustling leaves, crackling branches, and then a kind of moan-grunt-growl. Oh, God. Was that how a bear sounded? City girls didn’t know a grunt from a growl from a snarl, or what kind of animal emitted which. Well, one thing was for sure, she was not going outside to check it out. If whatever it was out there wanted her, they’d have to come in and get her, and that was what fireplace pokers were for. So, still trembling from the icy cold and her jangling nerves, Kayla sat down on the second-from-the-bottom step and peered through the banister rails at the uncurtained windows and beyond. The middle of the night was a very dark time; all she could make out were the tall trees of the forest that surrounded the property and the shadows cast by the full moon. Full moons and werewolves? Do not go there, she admonished herself, her teeth chattering as she stifled a nervous giggle. The real world was scary enough without having to bring in the paranormal. Which she didn’t believe in, anyway�Śmostly. Bailey’s whimpering broke off that avenue of thought, and she held the tiny dog more tightly as he buried his face in her armpit. No, not much of a watchdog at all, she mused again ruefully. Poor baby. Her ears strained to listen for more noises. And they were there�"more branches crackling, another growl or grunt, a longer moaning�"definitely chilling, but moving farther and farther away. And then there was silence. Seconds stretched into minutes of absolutely no sound, save for the soft rustling of leaves and a far-off hooting owl. Kayla’s adrenaline rush of fear receded with the sense of danger. It might return, of course, but for now she felt her body relaxing. Sighing, she reflected that nothing in her life ever went simply, without complications. Even the escape to her late husband’s family cabin, and the hoped-for solitude and peace it offered. She’d been here for two days, since Friday, and mostly she’d sat on the broad, wood-slatted porch that ran the entire width of the house and stared out at the view: the Catskill Mountains glowing with autumn colors and shifting light. A small valley, with tiny villages nestled among the hillsides. More glorious reds and yellows and oranges. Acres of piercing blue sky above the ridge. And Kayla hadn’t been happy, not yet. But she’d felt the beginning of healing, at least. Now, if she could just get a good night’s sleep�Ś Her wish would not be granted on this night, for sure, not with her nocturnal intruder. She was, after all, the only one up here; there was no more Walter to offer shelter and strength. Which brought to mind one fact she had always known: When push came to shove, she was, once again, and always, alone. Knock, knock, knock. �śMiz Thorne?” Kayla jerked awake with a start, not quite sure where she was. Disoriented, she glanced around at her surroundings. It seemed to be daylight. �śWhat?” she mumbled. Knock, knock, knock. The repetition caused her to turn her head in the direction of the noise. There were two faces, both male, peering at her through the living room window. She started; her sudden movement woke Bailey up and he began barking again. �śHush, Bailey,” Kayla said, but the little dog kept it up, so she was forced to resort to �śGo fetch Arnold,” the signal for him to hunt for his small rag doll and bring it to her. And to quieten. As the animal took off, Kayla waved weakly at the newcomers, one of whom she knew, and pointed back where there was a side entrance to the house. Rubbing at her face, she hurried through the living room, into the kitchen, then opened the door. �śMr. Boland,” she said, nodding, trying to sound awake even though her mouth felt as if someone had injected sour milk into it during the night. Apparently she’d fallen asleep on the stairs, sitting up; her mind felt woozy and her back ached. �śHank,” the middle-aged, potbellied and balding man corrected her with a smile, one that revealed two gold-capped upper incisors. �śNone of that �Śmister’ stuff needed.” �śHank,” Kayla repeated, then added with an answering smile, �śPlease come in.” As he walked past her, she shifted her attention to the other man, the one she didn’t know, and who remained outside, a little distance away. The instant she got a good look at him, however, the smile disappeared from her face, and she hissed in an involuntary breath. Good heavens, he was huge! Fearsome, too. An Incredible Hulk, only better-looking. And not green. The stranger was several inches over six feet. His dark hair was clipped very short, as if it was growing out after having been shaved off. Olive-colored skin covered a slightly hooked nose, chiseled cheekbones and chin line. His mouth was thin and stern. He reminded her of those early photographs of smileless Native American warriors. His new-looking jeans, scuffed work boots and faded denim jacket over a black T-shirt did nothing to disguise the broad, powerful body beneath. Bodybuilder powerful, a look she’d never cared for. But it was the expression, or lack of it, in his pale eyes under heavy black brows that made her swallow again. Hard and bleak, not a flicker of warmth, or even life, in them. A shiver of trepidation bordering on fear skittered along her spine. Hank made a come-on-in gesture to the man. �śThis here’s Paul Fitzgerald. He’s real good with his hands.” Automatically, Kayla looked at the newcomer’s hands. Large, broad, callused. Capable of inflicting severe pain, she was sure. �śIs he,” she murmured. �śPaul’s one of my new guys.” New guys? she wondered briefly, but then she remembered what Walter had told her about Hank Boland. The hardware store owner-plumber-electrician-handyman in Cragsmont’s tiny town center, three miles down the road, was an ex-con, and he believed in giving a second chance to those who’d served their time at the nearby penitentiary. Which meant the stranger standing at her back door had recently been incarcerated. Terrific. Just terrific. The perfect way to start the day. �śI see,” she said, swallowing before adding automatically, �śPleased to meet you, Mr. Fitzgerald.” Lame, she told herself, truly lame, as the stranger nodded curtly. She was so not pleased to meet him. An ex-con and a truly scary-looking one, at that. Something in her attitude must have transmitted itself to the newcomer because he didn’t come any closer and he didn’t offer to shake hands, for which she was grateful; if he took one of hers in his, she might never see her poor fingers again. �śYeah, Paul here can fix anything,” Hank said cheerfully. �śUsed to do some remodeling. He’s real good.” �śI see.” �śI was coming up to check on that leak in the church floor you mentioned on Friday afternoon. And I figured I’d bring someone to take care of that list of chores you need done,” Hank continued, smiling again as he produced a piece of paper with notes scribbled on it. �śPaul’s just the man for you.” Wrong, she wanted to say. Most definitely. No one who appeared that cold, who radiated suppressed violence from every pore, was the man for her. Good heavens, he was the walking incarnation of her worst nightmare. What had he been in for? she wondered. Terrifying innocent victims into early graves? Her hand flew to her chest as she realized that, for the second time in several hours, she was scared to death. First her night intruder, now this behemoth who could have been cast as the Really Bad Dude in a biker movie. If she stayed in his presence any longer she was in danger of having a panic attack. �śCan’t you do it?” she asked Hank, aware that her voice held more than a tinge of desperation. �śSorry. I’m real busy with the Gillespie place. Whole roof is rotted from last year’s ice storms. Got to finish that job before winter comes again.” �śCome on, Hank,” the other man growled, his voice low pitched and irritated as he turned away. �śI’m making the lady uncomfortable.” �śNo, wait.” Hank scurried out the door again and grabbed the large man’s arm to keep him from leaving. Then he turned to Kayla. �śMiz Thorne,” he pleaded. �śGive him a chance. He got a real raw deal. He wasn’t even guilty.” �śIsn’t that what they all say?” It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, and she was rewarded with a look of cold contempt from Fitzgerald. �śNo,” Hank replied, pushing at the larger, extremely reluctant man, urging him closer to Kayla. �śI mean, he really wasn’t guilty. He was framed. Paul here should never have gone to jail. He was innocent.” These words, coupled with the sincerity on Hank’s face, made Kayla pause. She took in a deep breath then exhaled it, giving her time to regain her composure. Then she made herself return her gaze to the huge man one more time, trying for objectivity. He stood just back from the doorway now, less than a foot from her, and, once again, the sheer size of him overwhelmed her. She was five eight, but she had to crane her neck upward to see his face. It remained unsmiling�"his eyes were an unusual silver-gray, she noted�"and his expression remained hard. It was obvious he was not trying to curry favor or to win her over in the least. Which, for some odd reason, impressed her. Kayla knew what it was like to be categorized, unfairly judged and then disdained. Surely she owed it to herself, if not to him, to give the man a chance to be seen as an individual. Besides, her reaction to the stranger wasn’t really about him at all, and she knew it. It was her custom to be rigorously honest with herself, and what she was dealing with here was old stuff, an automatic fear response to a highly testosterone-fueled member of the male sex, a subgroup she could live the rest of her life without, thank you very much, and be quite content. �śWell�Ś” She clung to the doorknob, still vacillating between reason and the instinct to flee. Just then, Fitzgerald glanced down at her feet�"at her bunny slippers, for heaven’s sake, which she had forgotten she was wearing. When he looked up again, she glimpsed a brief flicker of something close to amusement in his eyes. In the next second it was gone, but she’d seen it, and it made her reconsider. She would keep an open mind, give the man a chance. �śWell, um,” she said again, �śI think it’s time I washed my face and changed into actual clothes. Help yourself to coffee. Both of you.” She indicated the automatic coffeemaker she’d set last night before going to bed. �śI’ll be right down.” When the woman turned and hurried quickly out of the kitchen, Paul’s gaze followed her movements. Mouth suddenly dry, he licked his lips. He felt like a long-starving man in a room that contained a three-course meal, one he wasn’t allowed to eat, but dammit, no one could stop him from looking. Even in a long robe, her womanly shape was apparent. Slim and tall, with an indented waist and gently rounded hips, she moved gracefully, despite those ludicrous slippers When he’d first seen her standing in the kitchen doorway, the front view had been just as arresting as the rear was now. Shoulder-length, straight, pale blond hair, sky-blue eyes in a broad, high-cheekboned face that wasn’t beautiful but not plain, either. Character, his father would have said. The woman had character. She also had breasts�"full, rounded ones. He could tell from the way the robe was tied and from the way they bounced gently as she moved. Real breasts. Real hips. Real blue eyes. Not pictures. A real, live, graceful, damned attractive woman. Who wasn’t too nuts about him. Not that he blamed her. He was hard and he was angry. He had nothing left in him of politeness or manners. In the past four years, civilized behavior had been slowly leached out of him by his brutal surroundings, until he’d learned just to survive. However he could. As Hank poured them two generous cups of coffee, Paul walked over the threshold into the kitchen, musing that he’d accomplished the first part of his purpose, gaining access to Kayla Thorne. But he’d been knocked for a loop by the woman who’d greeted them. She was so different than he’d expected her to be. In the pen they’d watched a lot of TV, and Kayla Thorne was all over the tube. She was famous. Infamous, really. It was a great story. She’d been a special-duty nurse to millionaire Walter Thorne’s ailing wife. Then six months after the wife croaked, she’d married Thorne, who, at age seventy, was forty-five years her senior. There had been three years of marriage, but the age difference and polar-opposite economic status had given the tabloids and gossipmongers a field day. Thorne had died last year, and she’d been left a wealthy woman, sharing an estate of several million dollars with Thorne’s grown sons. In all that time, Mrs. Thorne never gave an interview, never talked about herself, never defended herself. During the marriage and since. So the media had invented a personality for her, a cross between a wet-dream fantasy and money-grubbing schemer. Before the wife croaked, was there kinky stuff going on between the old man and the sexy nurse? they’d asked. Had the two of them murdered the first Mrs. Thorne? they’d implied. And finally, had she cold-bloodedly knocked off the old man? She’d been officially cleared of any complicity in either death, both of which were from natural causes, but suspicion remained, even in Paul’s mind. Money could buy you all kinds of ways to cover up a crime. Besides, once he’d heard her maiden name, Vinovich, he’d associated her with lowlifes and liars. He had a lot of evidence and personal experience to back that up. Judging from this first meeting, however, unless she was one hell of an actress, it appeared as though both his and the media’s assumptions had been off base. Kayla Thorne was softer than her pictures. More of a real person than a viper. The blond hair was natural, not bottle-created. She was polite, too, no diva, not one of those la-di-da, newly wealthy, lady-of-the-manor types. The house was a surprise, too, from the outside for sure. Old, shabby even. Needed a third of the slats replaced, a new paint job. No servants that he could see. The kitchen was like the �śbefore” of a before-and-after remodeling ad. Except for the shiny, new-looking coffeemaker and microwave oven, nothing in here had been updated in years. Old, bent pots and pans hung from hooks above the stove. The tile was chipped, the linoleum water-stained and ancient. One large, deep sink, probably installed in the 1930s. All that money and the whole place was ready for the wrecker’s ball. Damned strange was all he could say. He heard her footsteps before he saw her appear from around the corner. He’d been propping a hip against one of the tile counters, sipping his coffee, but he straightened automatically as she entered the room, dressed in a comfortable-looking navy blue sweat outfit and tennis shoes, her hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail. Her face was shiny, as if she’d just washed it, which made her look about eighteen, although he knew she was about ten years older. �śDid you find the milk?” Avoiding eye contact with Paul, Mrs. Thorne directed the question at Hank, who sat at the small, two-person corner table. �śSure did,” Hank said, �śand the sugar.” �śWell, good,” she said, pouring herself a cup, taking a sip and then venturing a quick, sideways glance at Paul. The kitchen was small, there wasn’t a lot of room for maneuvering, so she stood close. He could smell fresh soap and some flowery kind of body lotion. For a moment, he felt light-headed. �śIt’s good coffee,” he said, trying to remember how to be pleasant. He wanted this job, for more reasons than the obvious one, and it was, so far, not a done deal. Out of nowhere, a small animal appeared in the doorway, something dirty and floppy in its teeth. Paul frowned. He’d never been a fan of Yorkshire terriers�"rats with hair, he’d always thought of them�"and his opinion was now reinforced as the runty-looking thing seemed to realize there were two newcomers in the kitchen. Dropping the toy from its mouth, it began a ferocious, high-pitched, extremely irritating round of barking. The woman looked down at the tiny dog at her feet, then scooped it up into her arms. �śIt’s okay, baby,” she cooed, which made it stop barking and begin whimpering, an equally unpleasant sound, to Paul, anyway. �śBailey’s a little upset,” she told them. �śWe had some kind of nocturnal visitor and he got scared.” She caressed the animal some more. �śYou want a treat?” she asked him, then got a dog biscuit out of a nearby jar. Paul watched her stroke the small animal’s head, scratch it behind its ears. Her hands were pretty and slim, her fingers long, with short, unpolished, efficient-looking nails. He sure wouldn’t mind those hands stroking his head, those fingernails scratching his skin, in all kinds of places. At the image, he felt his body stirring. Damn. He really hadn’t expected his hormones to do a dance in Kayla Thorne’s presence. Although, he knew none of it showed; he’d trained himself to keep all emotion out of his expression, all physical reaction to a minimum. But now, as a free man�"for the present, at least�"it sure wasn’t easy. Not that it had anything to do with this specific woman. In his state, she could have been any female of the species. On top of that, there were too many other sources of stimulation this morning not to have some kind of reaction. He’d been locked up for four years, and now here he was, on top of a gorgeous mountaintop. There was an endless expanse of forest all around, not to mention fresh, clean air, a warm kitchen, even freshly brewed coffee. And the woman. His groin tightened even more with a fierce desire that nearly took his breath away. Yeah, most especially the woman. She wasn’t the first female he’d encountered since being released five days ago. But it had been a long, long time since he’d been intimate with one, and at the moment, Kayla Thorne was provoking a reaction far stronger than anything he’d expected. He didn’t like it. Not at all. He angled his body away from her. �śThis place is pretty old,” he said, steering the conversation toward safer territory and figuring he’d score points if she thought he really did know what he was doing. �śA hundred years or more, I imagine.” �śIt was built in 1895,” she said. �śJust move in?” �śHell no.” Hank answered the question cheerfully from the corner table. �śProperty has been in the Thorne family forever.” Mrs. Thorne correctly read Paul’s one raised eyebrow. �śWalter, my late husband, said he liked to keep it just as he remembered it as a child, before garbage disposals and subzero refrigerators.” A small, fond smile lit her face. �śHe was happy here, with his grandparents, every summer. A golden time, he called it.” Damn, she had a great smile, Paul observed, attracted to her genuine niceness. Then he ruthlessly banished the thought from his brain. He had an agenda here, and none of the softer emotions were welcome. Besides, he no longer believed in much of anything having to do with men, women and possibilities. Too close, Kayla thought. She was standing way too close to Paul Fitzgerald in the small kitchen. Despite the impersonal chill of his gaze, his big body radiated enough energy to power an electric blanket, and it was warming her up. Setting Bailey down, she said brightly, �śI think the kitchen is a bit small for all of us, so shall we go outside?” She swept past both men and out into the garden that covered the entire area between the house and the driveway. Whew, she thought, as the cool morning air hit her. If she had a folding fan, she’d flutter it in front of her face, that’s how hot her cheeks felt. Hot now, shivering earlier, all in Paul Fitzgerald’s presence. But why such a strong reaction? He terrified her, that was why, she told herself. But was that all it was? No, she was forced to admit to herself. Standing next to him in the kitchen, she had felt an odd kind of�"what? A connection with him. Not to mention a quivery, shuddery sensation in various body parts. There was a name for it: chemistry. Hello and welcome to good old-fashioned lust. No! Her mind rebelled. How could that be? Paul Fitzgerald had the personality of a serial killer. Heck, he might even be a serial killer, for all she knew. And while there seemed to exist women who found potentially violent, dangerous men a turn-on, she was definitely not one of them. Never had been, never would be. It was the lack of sleep, she told herself. Her fragile emotional state since Walter’s death. This, whatever it was between her and Paul Fitzgerald, was an aberration, and would soon pass. She fervently hoped. And she could help it along by not hiring him. There! she thought, mentally brushing her palms against each another in job-well-done fashion. She’d made her decision. Fitzgerald was history. She was sorry if he needed the job, but her own peace of mind had to be her first priority. The men had followed her out the kitchen door, and now the three of them stood along the fenced-in compost heap that was situated in the shadow of a tall pine tree. �śI hate to sound stupid, Mr. Boland, I mean, Hank,” she said with another bright smile, avoiding Fitzgerald’s gaze, �śbut are there bears around here?” �śBears?” �śI heard something last night. It woke me up, and I guess Bailey wasn’t the only one who got scared. I must have fallen asleep listening for it again.” �śBears?” Boland repeated, scratching his head. �śCould be. We’re on the edge of wilderness up here, you know. Or it coulda been a coyote, even a raccoon.” �śAre raccoons heavy enough to make the porch creak?” �śWell now�"” �śThere’s your culprit,” Fitzgerald said, cutting him off, crouching down and picking something out of the compost heap. �śChicken bones.” �śExcuse me?” Kayla said. �śIf you don’t want to attract wild animals, you need to keep animal remains out of the compost. Carrot peelings, coffee grounds, stuff like that, is all that should go there. No bones or animal fat.” The slight condescension in his tone made her cross her arms over her chest and declare defensively, �śI know that.” He raised one jet-black eyebrow. �śDo you?” �śYes. Walter, my late husband, taught me well, and I’m very careful about what I put in that compost heap. Nothing but vegetation. All other garbage is wrapped tightly in plastic and kept in the mudroom until garbage pickup day. I’m not a total fool, you know.” She was annoyed, at him for figuring her for a dimwit, and at herself for having lustful thoughts about him just moments ago. Which, thank heavens, were now gone. �śBesides,” she said, her chin sticking out defiantly, �śI haven’t had any chicken since I’ve been here, so there’s no way I could have put those bones in there.” Again, the raised eyebrow, the shrug. Then he stood, towering over her, blocking out the sun with his body. �śMaybe it was a tramp,” he said, hitching his thumbs in the back pockets of his jeans, the material of his T-shirt tightly stretched across pecs the size of boulders. �śSome homeless guy. What do you think, Hank?” �śMaybe,” the other man said. �śUp here’s usually too big a hike for strangers, but there’s some great hiding places if you’re on the run.” He scratched his head again. �śGee, Miz Thorne, I wish I could help. Are you sure you’re all right here, all by yourself?” �śI’m fine.” �śHow long you planning on staying?” �śAs long as I need.” �śOh, I thought it was maybe a few days, that’s all.” She lifted her shoulders. �śI really don’t know.” �śBut not during the winter, right?” Hank persisted. �śIt gets snowbound up here in the winter.” �śIsn’t there a plow service?” �śCan’t count on it. Hardly anyone up here then. You’d be pretty much alone, with no way to get down the mountain.” �śMaybe,” Fitzgerald joined the conversation, �śsomeone from your family should come up here and stay with you. Your dad? A brother?” Kayla nearly laughed bitterly at the ludicrousness of that suggestion, but all she said was �śI don’t think so. And, anyway,” she added philosophically, �świnter’s a long way off.” �śMaybe only a month or so,” Boland said. �śIt’s late September. Snowfall begins in the autumn.” �śHank Boland,” she said, her hands on her hips. �śAre you trying to scare me?” He held up both hands, palms out, and grinned sheepishly. �śI’m just old-fashioned, I guess, about women being alone up here where there’re wild animals. In case you get, you know, attacked or something.” She gave him a forgiving smile. �śYou’re allowed to be as old-fashioned as you like. But I assure you, I really can take care of myself.” An amused, exaggeratedly patient look passed between the two men, one of the aren’t-females-foolish? variety, but she decided to ignore it. The male brain worked differently from the female’s, and that was just the way it was. �śWell, look,” Hank announced, �śI’d best check on that leak under the church. Why don’t the two of you go over the stuff on your list?” Now was the moment, Kayla knew, the one where she could say, �śI’m sorry, but Mr. Fitzgerald won’t do.” She wouldn’t have to explain her reasons. After all, she was doing the hiring here and didn’t owe anyone anything. But before she could, Fitzgerald said, �śWhat church is that?” Kayla pointed toward an expanse of birch trees on the far side of the house. �śIt’s over there. The Old Stone Church. It’s part of the property.” Paul had always been fascinated by early American architecture, and now his curiosity was piqued. �śMind if I take a look with Hank?” �śWe can all go, I guess,” Mrs. Thorne said. As they followed Hank down the gravel driveway toward the main road, Paul asked her, �śDoes the church still function as a church?” �śMostly it’s used for weddings and funerals. Anyone who wants to belong to a congregation has to go down the mountain to Susanville.” Susanville. The name sent a chill through him. It was where he’d just spent four hellish years in the penitentiary. Where the families of the prisoners rode the bus from New York City and Albany and Buffalo on Sunday mornings, filled with excitement and picnic baskets, and returned on the same bus, subdued and sad, their baskets empty, on Sunday nights. As they walked along the main road for a brief period, then turned up the path leading to the church, Paul shook himself mentally. He was out now. His lawyer had gotten him released on a technicality, but if he was lucky, he’d never have to go back. Hell, he couldn’t go back. Didn’t think his soul could take another day there. Which was why he was here, high in the Catskills, on the way to checking out an old church with Kayla Thorne. She held the key to his freedom, although he doubted she was aware of that. And, if he played his cards right, she would never have to be. Chapter 2 Kayla remembered the first time she’d seen the Old Stone Church; it had been nearly four years before, when Walter had brought her here on their honeymoon. As he’d shown her around his family’s mountain retreat and related stories of his childhood, there had been rueful pride and unabashed sentimentality in his voice. At the moment, she couldn’t help comparing that time with this one. Somewhat guiltily, she contrasted her late husband with Fitzgerald. Walter had been under six feet, reedy rather than muscular. And, of course, a young-thinking but still aging man of seventy. Fitzgerald was so much taller and broader, so much more muscular�Śand so much younger. Always a fast walker, Kayla had had to slow her pace to match Walter’s stride. Today, she had to hurry to keep up. They paused at the front of the building, which was relatively modest as churches went, one story made to look a lot taller by its sharply pitched roofline and a high, broad steeple. The bell tower still had its original nine-hundred-pound bell, one that was rung on special occasions. Fitzgerald ran one huge hand over several of the dark gray and dusty brown stones that made up the entire facade. �śSolid workmanship,” he said, and she detected a flicker of admiration�"an actual emotion?�"on his face as he did. �śDo you know anything about it?” �śJust what’s in the brochure. It’s native fieldstone and was carved by Italian masons,” Kayla explained, �śbrought to America in the mid 1890s for that express purpose. A wealthy widow, Honoria Desbaugh, built it to honor her husband. For years, it was run by some monks, an offshoot of a sect called the Brothers of the Sacred Nazarene. Our cabin was their dormitory. One by one, the monks died out, and the place was pretty much abandoned till the 1920s, when Walter’s family bought the entire property.” �śThe church is a real tourist attraction in the summer,” Hank added. �śGood for the town.” He pulled open the thick wooden front door, and they followed him in. As it had before, the cool quiet of the church’s interior had the effect of a balm on Kayla’s nerves; even if she hadn’t been aware of being tense, the easing of the tightness in her shoulder muscles and abdomen was a dead giveaway. She stood in the nave and breathed deeply of the air�"it had the slightly musty but clean smell of damp earth and old caves. The calm lasted seconds only, because Paul Fitzgerald came up to stand beside her, his hands in his back pockets as he peered upward, his gaze taking in the high ceiling and its heavy beams. She couldn’t help noting his strong neck and prominent Adam’s apple. The filtered sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows cast shadows on the sharply defined planes of his face. Good Lord, she thought, he was like some kind of stone monument himself. �śThis has been kept up,” he said. Hank, still standing near the door, said, �śMr. Thorne paid for the restoration years ago,” to which Kayla added, �śWalter set up a fund to keep it up in perpetuity.” �śReligious, huh?” �śNot particularly,” she said. �śHe intended the church to be nondenominational, sort of a general, all-purpose place to worship whatever god you believe in.” He angled his head to gaze down at her. His pale eyes were grim and joyless, and spoke of bone-deep bitterness. �śWhat if you don’t believe in any kind of god?” �śDoesn’t everyone need to believe in something?” she asked him softly. His gaze remained on her face for another moment or two, revealing nothing of whatever was going on inside him. She felt, again, her blood running cold, signaling her dread of violence. The bleakness in Fitzgerald’s eyes did that to her. Then he shrugged and looked away. �śIf you say so.” He walked over to one of the walls, and as he had outside, rubbed his hand over the stone. His attention caught by something near his feet, he bent over and scraped a nail against a floorboard. �śThis must be it, Hank. The leak’s under this area of rotting wood.” �śOkay.” Hank headed for a small side door near the altar. �śI’ll just check in the basement, see where that water’s coming from. You two look around, I’ll be back in five minutes or so.” Kayla watched as Fitzgerald ambled past the pews and to the altar. On the rear wall were five wooden statues of saints, each about four feet high. He studied them silently for a moment. What was he thinking? she wondered. Had he ever had any beliefs? Why couldn’t she shake this need to understand this emotionally cutoff man? He was none of her business, especially as she would be sending him on his way as soon as they got back to the house. Annoyed with herself, she followed his progress as he strode over to the east wall and, one by one, perused the stained-glass windows. Several were dedicated to people who’d passed away, dating from the early 1900s to the 1970s. Desbaughs had given way to Montgomerys, who’d given way to Thornes. She joined him at her favorite, an exquisite rose window, its colors pale pink to deep red and all hues between. Along the bottom of the window ran a green-leafed vine, above it the words �śEntwined forever.” �śIsn’t it beautiful?” she said as they both gazed at the fine craftsmanship combined with a delicate sensibility. He didn’t reply for a moment, then he nodded. �śYeah.” �śI’m having a window made in honor of Walter.” Again, he made no reply at first. Then he said, �śGood for you.” Was he being sarcastic? She had no way of knowing. They were near the rear of the church now and he pushed open the back entrance door. Sunlight poured in, obliterating the shadows and sense of mystery in the old building. Fitzgerald pointed ahead. �śWhat’s that?” he asked, but didn’t wait for her answer, striding out the door toward what she knew was the memorial arch. By the time she’d caught up with him, he’d already covered the cracked paving stones that led to the monument, a tall, narrow archway made up of small, ivy-covered stones. He stood beneath it and gazed out. Her instinct was to join him beneath the high curving shrine, appreciate the view, tell him a story or two about the arch’s history. But the thought of standing under it, next to Paul Fitzgerald, made her distinctly uneasy. She remained several feet behind and to the side of it. A sudden wind came up, the way it did here in the mountains, and she had to raise her voice to answer his previous question. �śIt’s called the Memorial Arch,” she told him, �śin honor of the Native Americans who used to roam these mountains. Mrs. Desbaugh had some Mohawk blood in her, and asked that it be part of the original construction.” He looked back at her, a slight frown forming between his thick brows. �śAm I breaking some kind of law by standing here?” �śNot at all.” The wind whipped her ponytail around to smack her in the face, and she pushed it away. �śBut you’d rather I didn’t.” He was reading her unease. �śNo, no, it’s not you. I’m just being�Śsuperstitious.” �śThere a curse or something?” he asked sardonically, and she knew he was scoffing at the possibility. �śSomething bad happens if you stand under this thing?” �śNot at all. People stand under the arch all the time. Sight-seers, couples getting married. It’s fine.” She was being silly. But, in truth, she was actually afraid to stand under the arch with him. At the same time, she was experiencing this unexpectedly strong pull toward the ancient monument, a sense that she needed to be under there, next to Fitzgerald. What was that about? And why the fear? Nothing popped into her head. She sighed, shook her head. The only way she’d get the answer was to�"as she’d learned�"go toward it and find out. Sometimes she yearned to return to the days of being the little girl who hid from life, but her path had gone in a different direction. For better or for worse, she was a woman who faced and fought her fears. Shoulders squared with determination, Kayla took the few steps that had her standing side by side with Paul Fitzgerald, under the arch. The minute she got there, the wind died down, leaving her with that same vague sense of unease. Also a nearly palpable awareness of�"darn it!�"that connection again to the man by her side, the way she’d felt earlier, back in the kitchen. Only it was stronger now, as if there was some invisible wire strung between them, with a jolt of electricity passing through it. She knew that she and Paul Fitzgerald made an all-too-intimate picture: a man and a woman, surrounded by history and tradition, enveloped by a monolith that marked sacred ground, one used in ancient ceremonies of all sorts�Śincluding weddings. Her heart stuttered. Oh, God, was she doing a you-are-my-destiny head trip? Because if she was, then fate had a major sense of humor, pairing a grieving widow with an embittered ex-con who looked like he ate small children for breakfast. Turning her head, she studied his profile. The slight hook to his strong nose brought back her initial impression of him. �śDo you have any Indian blood?” she found herself asking. He turned to look at her, his features carefully neutral. �śCherokee. My grandmother.” �śI thought so.” A grandmother he’d loved, she just knew it. Kayla was always interested in family stories; ordinarily she would ask him to tell her about his grandmother, but there was that don’t-go-there quality to Fitzgerald that discouraged questions. As though to prove her point, he turned away from her and stared out at the view again, which, from this angle, offered mostly treetops, and beyond, Shawangunk Ridge, with its single soaring pine tree reaching high into seemingly endless clear, blue skies. The only expression on his face was a slight downturn of his mouth. �śNice,” he said. �śSomething of an understatement,” she countered wryly. �śThere you are,” Hank said from behind them. She nearly jumped with surprise as he came up to them, wiping his hands on a large white handkerchief. �śI can fix that leak in the basement. No problem.” Kayla stepped out from under the archway and faced the older man. �śI’m sorry, Hank,” she said. �śReally I am. I already told you on the phone that Walter was adamant when it came to the church. Any repairs, anything that needs to be done, is to be performed by a restoration expert. I’ve called the man Walter used, and he’ll be up in a couple of days to look it over and give me an estimate. I just wanted to see if there is something I should do until then.” Stubbornly, Hank shook his head. �śThose people cost a lot of money. Hell, me and Paul and a couple of my guys could do it just as well, cost you a third of what them fancy experts charge.” She could see that she was dealing with a bruised ego, and she felt badly. Hank had always been kind to her and helpful to Walter. �śIf it were up to me�Ś” she said, then shrugged with an apologetic smile. �śIt’s out of my hands. It’s actually in the will.” Again, he shook his head. �śDamn foolishness,” he muttered. Then, resigned, he stuffed the soiled handkerchief into his back pocket. �śGuess I can’t fight a will, now, can I?” �śHow about we go back to the house and take a look at your list?” This abrupt change of subject came from Fitzgerald, who didn’t wait for a reply before taking off, around the church rather than through it. As Kayla and Hank followed, she was thinking, once again, that it was time to dismiss him. Just because he’d admired the church didn’t make him someone she wanted around her all day. Besides, she reminded herself, she had way too strong a reaction to him, equal parts attraction and repulsion, neither of which she needed in her life at the moment. It was most likely the nurse in her that was stirred up by the pain she sensed beneath the man’s steel surface. He might need healing, but he wasn’t about to get it from her. �śUm, Mr. Fitzgerald?” she began as the three of them strode up the driveway to the house. �śCall him Paul,” Hank said genially. Before she could go on to tell him that she wouldn’t be needing his new recruit, Fitzgerald had taken the list of chores from Hank, glanced at it and headed for the drainpipe that ran down the side of the house near the kitchen door. He knocked on the metal, then said, �śI think it would be better to replace this instead of repairing it. I’ll clean out the rain gutters first and make sure there are no rats making nests. Or snakes.” If he could have invented a better conversation-stopper, Kayla had no idea what that would be. �śSnakes?” she squeaked. Hank shrugged. �śWe got ’em up here, sure.” Her hand flew to her throat. �śI hate snakes.” He shook his head sadly. �śThey’re part of the habitat, Miz Thorne.” But Fitzgerald had already headed for the rear of the house and Kayla and Hank followed. He leaped up onto the porch, forgoing the three steep steps, and kicked some of the floor slats with his foot, then rapped his knuckles on several pieces of wood siding. �śYeah, it’s old,” he said with a nod, �śbut it’s good solid wood. Oak. They don’t make them this way anymore. I’ll have to find some older house undergoing demolition, cut and shape some of the slats. I can do that in Hank’s shop, bring them up here, install them. No problem for me there, I’ve done it before.” Paul was aware he was doing a blatant selling job, being chatty as a woman over the back fence. But he’d seen the look in Kayla Thorne’s eyes, the one that said she’d made up her mind and was about to give him the heave-ho. He couldn’t allow that. He needed access to her. If his first stab at finding out about her family had gotten no response, if his little attempt to introduce the topic of her brother had taken him nowhere, there were still several more ways to bring up the subject. But only if he had the time and opportunity to do so, and to have that, he needed to remain here, on the premises. �śLet’s look at the rest of the list, okay?” he said, trying for upbeat but doubting it came out that way. He no longer knew how to be or sound cheerful. Tension and anger had filled every day of the past four years and he wondered if it would ever go away completely. Instead of waiting to hear her answer, he slid open the sliding glass doors off the porch, entered the living room and took the stairs, two at a time, to the upper floor. When he heard her footsteps behind him, a small part of his tension eased. At least she was letting him get this far without canning him. For the next half hour, he toured the house with her, not giving her much of a chance to say anything. There was no problem he couldn’t handle and he let her know it. More squeaking floorboards, several window trims needing to be recaulked. A little electrical work, a jammed closet door. Stair treads needed to be replaced, a banister reinforced. A couple of bathroom fixtures leaked and the water pressure wasn’t strong enough. They wound up again on the rear porch, where, this time, instead of kicking at loose slats, Paul got his first real look at the view. It stopped him cold. It was broader and more expansive than the one from the Memorial Arch, and it had it all: mountains, autumn-colored trees, the ribbon of a river cutting through a small valley. Houses nestled into the hillsides. Wisps of white clouds, a sun that was becoming stronger by the minute. And, to add to the perfection, a single eagle soared overhead, its wings stretched wide, riding the shifting wind currents as if it were the master of the skies. His gaze shifted again from the eagle to the panorama before him, the whole thing hitting him like clean, fresh oxygen after being in smog all day. As he drew in a deep breath and exhaled it, something tight inside began to gradually loosen up, leaving room for a sensation that, at first, he had trouble identifying. But the sensation grew stronger and he let it take him over, until he could put a name to it. Elation. It was as though, while he stood there, his spirit was being cleansed. Garbage out, beauty in. God! He was free! He felt like shouting it out loud. After four long years behind bars, four years of a living hell, he was no longer a prisoner. Instead, he was way, way, way high up, above all the pain and violence, as unfettered as the eagle circling overhead. Unexpected emotion flooded him. To his horror, out of nowhere he felt moisture forming behind his eyes. No. Gritting his teeth and expending every effort of will he could muster, Paul forced himself to cut off the feeling before it took him over. No softness, he reminded himself. He would allow nothing to blunt the edge of his purpose. Nothing. He took another moment to regain his composure, during which a disturbing thought struck him: Had Kayla Thorne noticed his reaction? Bad enough to feel weak inside, but to have a witness? Unacceptable. He slanted his gaze over to where she stood, half a yard to his right, also taking in the view. She seemed composed, but the edges of her mouth were turned down, and even in profile, he could tell she was concentrating on some thought. �śYou can see a lot more from here than you can from the church,” he observed, his voice cracking slightly, hoping the words sounded as casual as he’d wanted them to come out. Kayla, her mind a jumble of images and emotions, was waging an inner war with herself. She adored looking out over what she secretly thought of as her hills, but today there was an added dimension to her appreciation: it was as though she were seeing it through the eyes of the man by her side. Good heavens, what this must mean to him! In jail, he couldn’t have had anything to stare at but walls and bars, other prisoners, guards. No colors, just grays and drabness. This had to be beyond precious to him. Or was it? Was she, once again, letting her imagination run away with her, filling in, providing the missing pieces to a man who chose to remain inscrutable? Was he the kind of person who truly appreciated nature’s colors and the infinity of sky overhead? If he wasn’t, then why was she trying to make him into that man? After all, if she was hiring a handyman, all she needed to know about him was if he could do the work. Which was when she realized she’d done an abrupt about-face. She’d changed her mind. Or he’d done it for her. It didn’t matter. After he answered a few questions, she was going to offer him the job. So much for absolutely, positively making her mind up, she thought, disgusted with herself. She was a wuss. Hank came around the side of the house and joined them on the porch, a small toolbox in his grip. �śI got to take off, Miz Thorne. So, what do you think? Will my new man do?” She told herself she was in charge, that no matter how tall or broad or menacing�"or wounded�"Paul Fitzgerald might be, he had no power over her. Turning her head and meeting his silver-gray gaze directly, Kayla said, �śI need to ask you a few questions first.” �śAsk away.” �śDo you ever smile?” As though she’d surprised him, there was the briefest suggestion of softening around his mouth, then the flinty look returned to his eyes. �śWhen I have something to smile about.” �śWell, I don’t do jokes.” He cocked an eyebrow. �śThat’s a shame. I could use a good laugh.” Another man might have said those words with some irony, or even as an invitation. But there was not a hint of amusement in his words; his face remained expressionless. �śYou sure could,” she agreed, thinking�"like the utter fool she was�"that she would make him smile if she died trying. Why it was important to her, she had no idea. �śAnd you have experience?” she asked. �śI mean with old houses, not just new ones?” �śYes. In my former life, on weekends, I was part of a crew that renovated historical homes.” �śWhat were you in jail for?” she continued. �śEven though you were innocent,” she added quickly, still not sure if she totally trusted that assessment. If there was smoke, there was usually fire. He didn’t respond for a moment; instead, his eyes grew hooded again and his nostrils flared, letting her know she’d hit a sensitive area. Well, too bad. �śI mean, if you were accused of being a rapist or a murderer,” she added, her chin jutted out to let him know she wouldn’t be browbeaten, even if the old trembling inside had started up again, �śyou know, bodily harm kind of thing, well then, I think you can understand that I’m not too nuts about you working here. Even if you were innocent.” It was a reasonable question, Paul knew it and acknowledged it, but still, he had to tamp down the fury roiling in his gut. He gave himself a moment before he spoke. �śI was accused of taking payoffs.” �śPaul here used to be a cop,” Hank chimed in. �śA good cop, Miz Thorne, decorated and all. Made detective. But there were some corrupt officers in that precinct. You know, taking bribes and selling dope they’d confiscated. Maybe you read about it, a few years back. It was in Albany, the precinct near the capitol buildings? The cops and the drug ring?” �śOh, yes,” she said, nodding. �śSee, Paul didn’t like what was going on, told them to cut it out or he’d turn them in. So they set him up.” �śAnd you know this, how?” �śPaul told me. And his lawyer. Also a couple of friends I have on the force. And I believe them. I got a sixth sense about cons, Miz Thorne. Like I said, Paul’s innocent.” �śYou have quite a champion,” the woman said, her face reflecting her lingering doubt. He didn’t blame her. The tangible proof of his innocence wasn’t available, and she wasn’t thrilled with another ex-con’s �śsixth sense.” All he could do was nod his gratitude to Hank and wait for the next question. �śAnd you were in jail how long?” �śFour years.” Her eyes widened. �śOh, my. A policeman in jail for four years.” Her face reflected a mixture of sympathy and horror. �śThat must have been tough.” He felt his jaw tense at the effort to keep his expression neutral. �śI survived.” Barely, he thought. Everything she was imagining, all that she’d read about cops in jail�"gang rapes, brawls, weapons made out of kitchen utensils�"he’d seen it all, and even taken part in some of it. Never being able to turn your back, making sure you were so strong they were scared of you. Yeah, he’d survived. By being terrified every day and night of those four years, and never, ever letting it show. He watched her expression as she made up her mind about him. He wasn’t aware he’d been holding his breath until, still obviously doubtful, she said, �śWell, if Hank trusts you, I guess that’s good enough for me.” A small stab of disappointment hit him in the gut. He should have been glad, should have congratulated himself on getting the job, on taking the first step toward clearing his name. But all he felt was let down. What had he expected? A ringing endorsement of his superior character? That Kayla Thorne would look at him and just know he could do the work? That he would be responsible, would put in long hours and not skip corners? Would be honest and reliable? The way he’d used to be, back before his life had changed one-hundred-eighty degrees from relative heaven to a hell blacker than a starless night? Maybe that was too much to expect of anybody. �śGood.” Hank slapped Paul on the back and handed over the toolbox he’d been carrying. �śI’ll leave you to it, then. Get started, Paul, okay? Make a list of the supplies you’ll be needing and we’ll take care of it tomorrow.” �śYou’re leaving?” she asked Hank, and Paul could tell she was not pleased. �śGot to get to the Gillespies’,” he told her, his gold teeth glinting as he smiled reassuringly. �śI’m late as it is. I’ll swing by and pick you up about four,” he told Paul, then hurried off. Kayla watched him leave, nearly called out that she’d changed her mind and to take this hulking, smileless man with him. But she didn’t. She’d said he could work for her, and at the least, he deserved a chance. Had she expected an armed guard to come with the package? �śWell, if you’ll excuse me, you do what you need to do, and I’ll just�Śbe around,” she finished lamely, and headed into the house. Knowing she was being a coward, she kept out of his way all day, staying as busy as possible. She took down curtains to have them cleaned, did a couple of loads in the ancient washing machine, puttered in the garden for a while. Basically she managed not to be wherever Paul Fitzgerald was. At lunchtime, she asked him if he’d brought lunch, and when he told her not to worry about that, she made an extra ham and cheese sandwich and brought it, along with a bag of chips and an apple, out to the porch, setting them on the scarred round table positioned between two ancient Adirondack chairs. �śYour lunch is out on the porch,” she told him when she found him at the side of the house, working on a pipe. �śI told you not to bother,” he muttered. �śWell, I did, so be gracious and eat it.” Without giving him time to reply, she herself headed into the kitchen and had her lunch there, even though she always took her meals on the back porch. She and Fitzgerald had been getting along just fine, she figured, by not being in the same room at one time. Avoidance? Worked for her. She could keep this up for the week or so it took him to finish his chores, and then she wouldn’t have to see him again. If in the darker recesses of her brain she was aware she was expending entirely too much energy on keeping her distance from the new handyman, that awareness remained subliminal. She’d come up to the mountain to escape stress and to recoup her energies. To rest. But being in Paul Fitzgerald’s presence wasn’t restful in the least. The early morning air was crisp and clean. A slight chill forecast the coming winter. The perfect beginning to the day, just the way Kayla liked it. She sipped her coffee, then expelled a huge, grateful sigh. Would she ever stop being appreciative, she wondered, of her luck, of the chance to be away from the relentless noise and chaos of city life in Albany? Up here there was only quiet. Peace. Solitude. She’d actually slept well the night before. If there was a bear around, she’d told herself before turning in, then it would just have to share the mountain with her. As for the mysterious chicken bones, someone�"a hiker, some kids�"must have thrown them in the compost heap because they were too lazy to find a trash bin. Whatever. Here she was, the start of a new day, and she was beginning to get a sense of who she was, a sense of�Ś �śBeware the bones of the dead.” Kayla literally jumped up off her chair, one hand to her thudding heart, the other making sure the coffee mug was firmly on the table. At the far end of the porch stood an old, slightly bent woman with long, straggly white hair, a once-beautiful face, and a look of manic intensity in her eyes. Like something out of a fairy tale, Kayla thought wildly. Not Disney, but Grimm. Bailey, who had been sleeping at Kayla’s feet, rose, took in the newcomer and began to bark. �śBodies and bones. They will rise and destroy everything,” the woman said, her voice amazingly resonant, her dark eyes boring into Kayla’s with mad fervor. Even as the words sent a chill down her spine, Kayla couldn’t help making an absurd association: Was the woman talking about the chicken bones? The ones from yesterday? Were chicken bones going to rise up and give birth to�"what? Baby chicken bones? She stifled a nervous giggle, then ordered her one-eyed Yorkie, �śBailey, be quiet.” As usual, he continued barking until she picked him up, at which time his barking became a combination growl and whine. Swallowing her fear and trying to keep her tone conversational, Kayla took a few tentative steps toward her visitor. The way the old woman’s spine was curved, she suffered either from scoliosis or advanced arthritis. �śYou must be Melinda.” The so-called �świcked witch of the mountaintop,” a local character who lived in a shack deep in the woods, half crazed, it was said, but harmless. Walter had told Kayla about her, but in the previous visits she’d made up here with him, she’d never met the woman. At the moment, the word harmless wouldn’t have been Kayla’s first choice. At the mention of her name, Melinda ceased talking and just stared at her, that same wildness in her eyes not diminished by her silence. Then she shifted her gaze to the dog. �śHush, now,” she ordered, and like that, Bailey did, whimpering for a brief moment, then burying his nose in Kayla’s neck. Maybe she really was a witch, Kayla thought, thoroughly spooked. Still, she took another hesitant step toward her visitor. �śUm, may I offer you something to drink, Melinda? Some water?” As Kayla moved closer, the old woman’s eyes widened and she backed up until she was at the edge of the long porch. There were three steep steps from there to the ground, and sensing her visitor’s panic, Kayla became concerned that she might fall. �śI won’t hurt you,” she assured her, reaching a hand toward Melinda but remaining where she was. �śTell me about the bones, Melinda. I’m interested.” The old woman paused briefly. �śThe bones,” she muttered, almost to herself, a faraway look in her eyes. Then her gaze focused again, horribly fierce and quite crazed. She pointed a crooked finger at Kayla. �śBodies and bones. They will destroy you.” Chapter 3 With that, Melinda whirled around, missed the top step, and might have injured herself had she not fallen against an extremely tall man with an extremely broad chest. �śWhoa there,” Paul said, as a black-clad, elderly woman barreled into him, then slithered around him and scurried off, down the stairs and into the trees beyond. Paul watched her go, then turned to his employer, who stood several feet away, a shivering dog held tightly to her chest. �śWho the hell was that?” he asked her, setting his toolbox down on a side table, then divesting himself of his backpack. �śAnd what was that about bones?” �śA local character named Melinda. She lives somewhere in the woods. And I have no idea what she was talking about.” �śShe dangerous?” �śI sincerely hope not. From what I know she lives with an equally strange niece and the two of them manage to take care of each other.” Paul glanced back at where the old woman had been headed, then returned his gaze to Kayla Thorne. �śWeird.” �śVery.” God, she looked good! Again, no makeup. Hair swept back, gathered at her nape in a clip. Jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt�"sporting a green palm tree against a white background�"and sneakers. The opposite of anything considered remotely sexy or provocative, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to get naked with her. Now and in last night’s X-rated dreams. In which he had conjured up her body, her creamy skin, eyes the vibrant color of the sky up here in the mountains. The rounded breasts, the long legs�"he’d woken up this morning desperately wanting them wrapped around him. Desperately wanting her. Man, did he need a woman, and soon. Hell, wouldn’t anyone be horny after four years of going without? Last Thursday, the night he’d been released, he’d stayed on in Susanville and headed for a singles’ bar, intent on finding a willing female and taking care of that need. He’d done the same thing the following night. On both occasions, the women had been willing, but, for some strange reason, Paul had found an unexpected emptiness to all the conversations he’d struck up, the knowing, two-way, �śhow long do we have to make small talk before we wind up in the sack?” tone of them. It had seemed, somehow, wrong. Not morally; he’d given up on moral right and wrong years ago. Just not the way he wanted it to be. Probably, if he’d been ten, even five years younger, it wouldn’t have been a contest. Forget not feeling right, raging hormones would have dictated that he get laid, however he could. But he was nearly thirty-seven and was no longer ruled by his body’s needs. Especially after four years of practice. �śCoffee?” Mrs. Thorne asked him, snapping him out of his carnal reverie and back to the present. �śI’ll get you some from the kitchen.” She moved toward the sliding glass door, which, for some reason, set off the dog’s yammering. Paul winced at the sound; all day yesterday the mutt had alternately hidden from him and faced him, barking its stupid head off. He’d dealt with the little runt by ignoring it. �śBailey, be quiet,” the woman scolded, setting the ball of hair on the porch floor. �śIt’s okay.” Maybe it was time to make friends with the annoying thing. The Thorne woman would like that. He approached the frantically yipping animal, now trying to back away but finding himself imprisoned by his owner’s feet. Paul squatted on his haunches, which made him eye level with the woman’s upper thighs, which he tried not to think about. Looking down, he held his fingers under Bailey’s nose. �śHey, it really is okay,” he whispered. �śI’m one of the good guys.” His words must have had an effect, because the dog stopped barking and cocked his head, as though not quite sure what to do with this change of attitude. Then, tentatively, Bailey sniffed at Paul’s fingers. Dark button eyes peering out at him from under bushy, nearly white brows, the canine emitted a halfhearted growl. Paul moved closer. �śYou’re a tough little man, aren’t you?” he said, stroking the animal’s head, then looking up to meet the woman’s amused gaze. From this angle, he could see the underside of her high, rounded breasts, a view that didn’t bother him in the least. �śWouldn’t figure you the Yorkie type,” he observed. One eyebrow arched upward. �śOh? What type would you figure me for?” He shifted his attention to the dog; the thought of reaching up to cup one of her soft breasts in his hand was way too distracting. He scratched behind his new best friend’s ears. �śWell, now,” he managed to say with the part of his brain still functioning, �śthat’s kind of difficult. Before I saw you, I figured you for some kind of purebred, one of those show-dog types. You know.” �śA Yorkie is a purebred. And what do you mean, before you met me?” Bailey made satisfied noises as Paul continued to scratch around his head. �śI read about you in the papers, saw you on TV. The mysterious millionaire’s widow. Even in the pen, we got the news.” �śOh.” �śThen, yesterday, when I saw the bunny slippers, well, that kind of changed things.” He glanced up at her again, watched her face flush slightly. Her mouth twisted in a smile. �śNot many have seen me wear those and lived to tell the tale.” He nearly smiled back. �śWell, then, I guess I’m lucky. Anyhow, someone who wears bunny slippers would go for something a lot more, well, fluffy. You know, a cocker spaniel. Like that.” In mock indignation, she slapped her hands on her hips, unintentionally causing her T-shirt to mold itself more tightly to her upper body. �śWrong on all counts,” she announced. �śI used to have a Lab. Well, not all Lab. A mix.” Her smile was tinged with sadness. �śShe was golden, a little bit of shepherd, a little bit of collie. When I was a kid.” A brief shadow of memory crossed her face before she brought herself back to the present. Mrs. Thorne nodded. �śBut you’re right. Bailey would not be my first choice. I inherited him.” Paul raised an ironic eyebrow. �śSomeone left this to you?” �śBe careful. You might hurt his feelings. He belonged to Walter’s late wife. She doted on Bailey, spoiled him rotten. When I came to take care of her, he grew attached to me. He’s pretty old and he’s mostly deaf, not to mention blind in one eye.” �śWhich is why he’s not much of a watchdog.” �śTrue. Poor Bailey can’t hear anyone coming unless they’re practically on top of him. But when a stranger comes into his limited view, by heavens, he gives it his all.” Paul lowered his gaze again, moving his scratching to under the dog’s chin; Bailey raised it for easy access, a look of sensual pleasure on its face. Paul couldn’t help himself�"he felt some kind of sympathy for the old thing. Aging, deaf, orphaned. Hell, what would it hurt to fuss some over the little guy? Bailey began to moan, an oddly human sound. �śHe likes that,” the woman said. �śYeah. Most living creatures like to be rubbed and stroked. It feels so good.” He hadn’t really meant it like it came out. Well, not consciously, anyway. But when he shot a glance up at her, he saw from the awareness in her eyes that his remark had hit home. They locked gazes for a moment, hers surprised, even a little alarmed. And was it his imagination, or did he see the tips of her breasts harden to become two firm pearls? In the next moment, she removed her hands from her hips, raising her arms to fuss with her hair and causing the T-shirt to lose its body-molding effect. Her attitude changed; now she seemed nervous, distracted, not at all pleased. Oops, he thought. Busted. No need to worry, he’d nearly said out loud. I won’t lay a hand on you�Śunless you want me to. And he had about the proverbial snowball’s chance in hell of that happening. A real shame, because, damn, he wanted her! Not for the first time, he felt blood rushing through his veins to pool between his upper thighs, giving him an instant erection. He was grateful his crouching position kept that particular fact from her. He patted the dog once more, saying casually, �śI’ll take you up on that coffee, if you don’t mind.” Only after she’d gone into the house did he stand. With Fitzgerald trailing her into the kitchen, Kayla felt as though every nerve ending in her body was exposed. Only now did she admit to herself that she’d been looking forward to his arrival all morning, and that when he’d appeared on the porch, she’d been way too glad to see him. What had happened to yesterday’s gut-level fear of him? Not a factor today. Or not so far. Slowly, he was becoming an individual to her, no longer a symbol of masculine domination and brute strength. In fact, seeing him with Bailey, he’d seemed nearly human. And the bunny slippers remark�"she’d almost caught him in a smile there. How would a full-throttle grin look? She found herself wishing the fear response would come back; it had been a real barrier to that other response he aroused in her, the one that brought out all kinds of inappropriate female yearnings, the mental, emotional and physical kind. �śAny disturbances last night?” he asked from behind her. �śNot a one. Or else I slept through it.” �śGood. I’m going to work on your plumbing this morning, okay?” They’d reached the kitchen, but she didn’t really want to face him yet, so she didn’t. �śThat’s a priority in these old houses,” he continued, �śkeeping them dry and free from the elements. Hank’ll be up in a couple of hours with some supplies�"wood, hardware, new tank innards.” �śThat’s fine.” Wow. Her handyman was actually stringing sentences together. Yesterday’s communication had been all clipped phrases, and curt, need-to-know answers to her questions. Hank had done most of the talking. The selling, really. She wished the kitchen were larger; it was still way too small to hold him. He stood just behind her as she poured him coffee from the pot; again, she could feel the heat from his big body, could smell his lime after-shave, could hear the sound of his breathing. And was she totally insane or was his breath caressing the back of her neck? The sensitive skin there felt all tingly. Again, she couldn’t fail to notice that this much closeness, rather than feel threatening today, made her body shift and sing in odd places. That connection again. Oh, lord, she really did have a problem here. �śBlack, right?” she asked him. �śExcuse me?” �śYour coffee.” �śOh. Yes.” After handing him his cup, Kayla sidestepped him, turned and leaned against the counter, keeping her gaze chest-level. He wore a clean work shirt of tan denim, its sleeves rolled up to reveal a light dusting of dark hair on his muscular fore-arms�Śand on the left one, a fierce-looking tattoo of a hawk and a knife intertwined. Startled, she tried not to stare, but he caught her reaction. �śI got it when I was inside,” he told her matter-of-factly. �śIt was purely defensive, trust me. If I hadn’t joined one or another of the gangs, well�"” he shrugged �ś�"let’s just say I didn’t have much of a choice if I wanted to stay alive.” �śOh.” She shuddered inwardly at what she could only imagine the conditions must have been like for him in prison. Don’t ask him about it, she begged herself silently. Keep your distance. Look at the tattoo, remember where he’s been. It was safer to keep an arm’s length and more between herself and potential violence, which included the men who worship it. Sipping her coffee, she darted a quick glance at his face. His hair was so very short, so close to his head, making the bones and contours of his face seem sharply defined. It wasn’t that he was particularly handsome, only that he was so very masculine. Had he always worn his hair like this? Or was it growing out from being shaved in jail? Another sip, eyes lowered, then another glance at him, at his face this time. To find him staring straight at her, a look of half-lidded intensity on his face that made her breath stop. His nostrils flared, his mouth was tight with some kind of tension. Oh, lord, Kayla thought weakly, save me. Unable to avert her gaze, she couldn’t help noticing that he was looking at her as though she were the highly coveted grand prize in some major contest, one he was hell-bent on winning. The heat rose to her cheeks, her insides quivered and became liquid. It was true, then. Not only was she sexually drawn to Paul Fitzgerald�"despite her efforts not to be�"but the feeling was definitely mutual. It was hard to miss it. The moment was short-lived, so fleeting it might have not even happened, because in the next instant, the animal intensity of his expression was gone, wiped off his face. His gaze hardened; his mouth once again became a thin, smileless line. He turned toward the door leading to the rest of the house. �śI’ll take the coffee with me upstairs,” he said, his voice gruff as he added, �śThanks.” For several moments after he left the kitchen, Kayla stood where she was, waiting for her breathing to return to something approximating normal. She spent the rest of the morning doing chores and�"as she had done the previous day�"avoiding her new handyman. However, by lunchtime, when she was in the kitchen and he was working upstairs, she decided to stop being silly. To act like a grown-up for a change. Standing in the doorway, she called up the stairs, �śCan I make you a sandwich?” �śNo, thanks,” he called down from the upstairs bath. �śI brought my own today.” �śWell, I’m going to sit out on the porch and have my lunch. It’s a beautiful day. Care to join me?” It seemed to take him quite a while before he answered. �śIn a few minutes, sure.” Humming to herself, Kayla brought out a tray with her sandwich and two tall glasses of freshly brewed iced tea. Seated, she was just sipping her drink when she heard the glass door slide open and close again behind her. She smiled at Paul as he lowered himself onto the matching Adirondack chair, the table between them. True enough, he had a brown paper sack with him, and when he set the contents out on the plate she’d provided, she laughed. �śPeanut butter and jelly,” she noted, holding up her own pb and j sandwich. �śGreat minds�Ś” Anyone else might have offered an answering smile, a wink, something. Not him. Instead, he grunted and took a large bite of his sandwich. The return of the cutoff noncommunicator, Kayla observed silently. Aloud, she said, �śI appreciate the work you’re doing.” He chewed and swallowed before answering. �śI’m getting paid, Mrs. Thorne.” �śKayla, please. And I’ll call you Paul, if that’s okay.” He hesitated before nodding. �śFine.” �śNow, back to the compliment I was paying you. I admire people who take care with whatever they do. Pride in your work is a lost art.” In the midst of another bite, Paul stopped chewing. Her words created a small glow inside. It had been such a long time since anyone had seemed to appreciate anything he did, and hell, he was human after all. Still, he’d decided to have lunch with Kayla Thorne for an entirely different reason. To ask her about her brother. He should have done it yesterday, but he’d gotten the feeing she wasn’t real comfortable with him yet. Today, there seemed to be a definite improvement in her mood. Do it, he lectured himself silently. Use the time to get the information you need. And forget about wanting her. The woman had good sense�"she wasn’t about to get mixed up with an ex-con, and he wasn’t about to screw up his reasons for being here with any sexual nonsense. But how to start? So, he could say, tell me about yourself�"any sisters or brothers? Right. Like they were on a blind date or had just met at a bar. Okay, start casually, lead into it. Gazing around him, Paul said, �śThis place is really something.” �śYes, I’m lucky it’s in the family. Although, given the choice, I’d rather Walter were still alive.” It was such a sad little comment, and it took him by surprise. He studied her face, open, honest and completely devoid of makeup or artifice of any kind. �śSo�Śyou loved him.” She seemed taken aback. �śOf course I did.” �śSorry, I didn’t mean to get personal. It’s just�"” he shrugged �ś�"you’re so different from what the papers made you out to be.” After it was out, he wondered if it had been a wise thing to say. But she didn’t seem to mind. Lifting one shoulder in an answering shrug, she said, �śThey make it up. I’m a creation of the media. They’re getting back at me for refusing interviews and insisting on my privacy. I wanted to mourn my husband’s death. They couldn’t understand why someone wouldn’t welcome their fifteen minutes of fame.” �śYeah. Being damned in the press can really play havoc with your life, big-time.” �śIs that what happened to you? I don’t remember the details. Were you tried in public, too?” �śBelieve it. It started out with one of those �Śanonymous sources’ you read about. He called a reporter with the scoop on me, how I was a dirty cop.” Talking about it dredged up that familiar sense of outrage. He took a sip of his tea to calm himself and to watch Kayla’s face for any hint of recognition. Nope. Nothing there but polite interest. �śAn investigation was opened,” he continued, �śand then there was a trial. It was pretty carefully orchestrated. I never had a chance. The guy, the �Śanonymous source,’ he started the whole thing.” She shook her head. �śI hate when people hide behind anonymity�"it keeps them from having to be responsible for their actions.” �śHe didn’t stay hidden, trust me. He testified at the trial.” He was talking about her brother; again, Paul watched her closely, but she showed no signs of having heard any of this before. �śIt was all a lie.” �śBut now you’re out. You’ve served your time.” �śI could still go back. See, this chief witness against me was a paid informant, working for the district attorney, and the defense wasn’t informed of that. His testimony was pretty damaging. Had my lawyer known about him, he could have impeached his credibility.” �śSo, they had no choice but to release you.” �śPending a new trial. They’ll let you out if it’s a first offense and not a crime against person or persons.” He was telling her more than she needed to know, but there was something about Kayla Thorne that made talking to her easy. She nodded. �śI see. Well, good luck.” He gave a mirthless grunt. �śI’ll need more than good luck. But we’re working on it. I want to clear my name,” he added with more vehemence than he’d intended. �śWell, of course you do.” Compassion flowed out of her. �śIt must have been so hard on your family, you being in jail.” �śMy family?” �śYour wife, children. If you have either.” It was one of those questions that women usually asked to find out if a guy was married before she got involved with him. However, in her case, he figured, she wasn’t on a fishing expedition; she was just being courteous. �śNo kids,” he told her. �śAnd my wife divorced me while I was in jail.” �śOh.” �śMy family stood up for me, though. My dad and brothers are responsible for me having this second chance�"they’re helping to pay for the lawyer. If for no other reason, I need to prove my innocence, for them. To pay them back.” �śHow are you going to do that?” By finding out where your son-of-a-bitch brother is, he wanted to say. Jay Vinovich, aka Jay Goodall, the anonymous source and main witness. When Paul found him, he would pay, in spades. �śI’m working on a few leads,” he said, then plunged ahead with the topic that, after all, she had raised. �śI can’t say enough about my family. They really came through for me. How about yours? During this whole thing, this bad rap in the press, did your family stand by you?” If she’d been a window, at that moment the shutters would have snapped closed. �śI don’t speak to my family much,” she said. �śNot at all, actually.” She turned away from him, gazing instead at the vista before them. �śOh, sorry. No mom and dad?” He made himself push it. He had no choice. �śNo brothers or sisters riding to your rescue?” �śMy mother is gone, and I’ve lost touch with all the rest of them.” �śAll the rest?” �śI’m the only girl of five children.” He already knew that, but he whistled and said, �śBig family.” �śToo big.” Her smile was inward, and bitter. �śAnd you don’t see any of them?” �śNo.” �śThat’s a shame,” he said with a sinking heart. A damned shame, in fact. In more ways than one. As though, after the flurry of dialogue, they’d each agreed to a time out, conversation stopped. Paul went back to his lunch, barely tasting his sandwich, and wished he knew what to ask next. What he’d learned so far from Kayla Thorne was exactly zip, and he tried to fight the growing sense of despair in his gut. Maybe she was exaggerating the estrangement; maybe she’d lost touch, but you could always find out where your family was, couldn’t you? If you really needed to�Ś? But he’d prodded about as much as he could at this time. Besides, he’d never been good at fishing expeditions. He figured if a person wanted to talk about a difficult subject, then they would. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t. He personally hated to have his privacy breached, but that was what he was trying to do to her right now. For extremely important reasons, he reminded himself. The difference between a second chance at life and the possibility of going back to hell for several more years. The sun felt good on Kayla’s back as, later in the afternoon, she pulled weeds from the garden on the far side of the house. Rich autumn smells filled her nostrils, from a neighbor burning leaves to the wild onions that grew at the edge of the porch. She listened to the sound of sawing and nail-pounding from upstairs, birds twittering in the trees all around. It was like surround sound for nature. She sighed. It had been a long time since she’d felt such contentment, such a sense of peace�Ś. �śKayla!” The harsh sound of her name made her jerk her head up. No, she thought, standing, wiping her hands on her jeans, pushing her hair off her face, no doubt leaving traces of dirt on her cheeks as she did so. She’d been so absorbed in her role as the happy gardener, she hadn’t heard his car drive up. �śSteven,” she said, turning to face the newcomer, who stood a few yards away, and wishing she were clean and nicely dressed. Walter’s son always made her feel as though she’d thumbed a ride on a cabbage truck and didn’t know enough to clean up afterward. She said nothing other than his name, not �śIt’s good to see you” or �śHow nice of you to stop by,” because neither were the truth, for either Steven or her. She’d tried, in her years with Walter, to let his older son know that she had no intention of trying to replace his mother, that she had no interest in Walter’s money, and that she truly cared about his father. But Steven, stiff-necked and given to deep grudges, had never bought it. So to keep the peace, Kayla had learned to be civil to him. But it wasn’t easy. He was dressed today as he always was, in an exquisitely tailored designer suit and tie. His cuff links were gold, his loafers soft Italian leather. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly styled, his face showed nary a whisker on its clean surface. Nothing was out of place, which was how he wanted his entire life to be. Twice married and twice divorced, Steven hated messiness and loose ends. Which was how he viewed his father’s widow. He stared at her and she stared back. She considered not opening the conversation, but she’d been placating him from the day they’d met, and old habits died hard. �śI didn’t expect you,” she said with composure. �śIs everything all right?” �śYes.” �śWell then, shall I make us some coffee?” �śNo, I don’t want coffee.” He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. �śThen just what is it you do want, Steven?” He wanted his father back. She knew that, and wondered if he did. Kayla was enough of a student of human nature to know that first his mother’s death, then his father’s, had shaken Steven to the core, and in his pain he’d lashed out at the nearest target: Kayla. She’d withstood many of his verbal assaults; some she’d answered, at other times, she’d just walked out of the room, leaving him frustrated and probably even angrier. �śMy lawyer tells me you haven’t responded to our suit yet,” he said. �śMy lawyer tells me he’s taking care of it.” �śI thought, maybe, we could speed things up.” �śOh, did you?” She, too, crossed her arms over her chest. �śAnd how exactly did you think we might do that?” �śI’ve hired a new firm of private detectives,” he said with an air of gotcha! �śThey’re researching your entire life, top to bottom, beginning with your birth, through the day you were hired to take care of my mother and on to when you supposedly walked in on my dead father. There are a lot of gaps in your story. This time, they’re going to find the truth.” She’d heard these threats before. When Walter had told his sons, Steven and Joe, that he was marrying Kayla, Steven had had her investigated. What showed up was all there was to know�"she’d led a life that had its share of pain, limited success, some tragedy, some joy. There were things that she’d thought were her right to keep private, but not according to Steven. Still, insofar as proving her a gold digger, the most innocent of the accusations, or a murderer, the least, they’d come up with exactly nothing. Because there was nothing to come up with. The deaths of both Sonny and Walter Thorne had been completely natural. Sonny had had terminal cancer; Walter had an embolism that burst loose and caused instant death. Kayla had played no part at all in either. But Steven couldn’t hear that. Wouldn’t. �śAre you through?” she asked him. �śThese people mean business, Kayla. They’re going to find out every black moment in your life, everything you’re ashamed of and want kept hidden. Why did you run away from home at sixteen? How did you support yourself as a runaway?” �śSteven�"” she said warningly. �śHow many lovers did you have before you met my father? I know you killed him, and I won’t let you profit from it.” She held up a warning hand. �śStop it. Just stop it. Go away.” Instead, he began to walk toward her, the look in his eyes threatening. For the first time in her dealings with Walter’s son, she wondered if she was at physical risk. She held up both hands now, palms outward, toward him. �śPlease don’t come any closer.” �śYou heard the lady.” The menacing voice from behind startled her. Turning her head, she saw Paul standing back a few feet and to her left. He was shirtless, the muscles of his upper torso gleaming with sweat. In his hand, he held a hammer. Teeth clenched tightly, Paul had to fight the rage building inside him. He wanted to rip the guy’s heart out. When, from the upstairs window he’d been working on, he’d heard a murmured conversation between Kayla and a man she called Steven, he’d figured it was none of his business, so he’d kept on working. When the man’s voice had grown louder, he’d decided to make it his business and, picking up a weapon, tore down the stairs. Just in time to hear the last few threats and Kayla’s answers. He held the hammer down, by his side. For now. The minute the guy in the suit saw Paul, he took a step back. His eyes raked him up and down, then took in the hammer. �śWho are you, her bodyguard?” �śDoes she need one?” �śOr maybe you’re her lover. How long has this been going on? And doesn’t that add a nice little wrinkle to my father’s death?” �śListen, you little creep�"” Paul started toward him, but Kayla put up a restraining hand. �śPaul, don’t,” she said, then turned back to the �śsuit”�"Steven, she’d called him. �śThis man is doing work for me, Steven, for you and Joe and me, taking care of the things that need repairing in the house.” He greeted her statement with marked skepticism. �śYeah, right. Well, when I’m through with you, your name will be off the deed�"it’ll be Joe’s and mine alone.” �śWhy? You’ve never liked this place or wanted it.” �śNow I do. And I’ll fight you tooth and nail for it.” �śWhy don’t you take a hike?” Paul said, having kept his mouth shut long enough. The guy was really irritating him. Kayla shot him another cautioning look. �śPlease, Paul, you’re not helping.” Again, she addressed Steven. �śYou’re free to do whatever you want. But I need you to leave. Now.” �śYou can’t throw me off my own property.” �śWe have a deal, remember? Whoever is staying up here is in charge. I’m here now. Please, just leave.” Paul had to restrain himself from making an I’m-backing-her-up threat, but he managed to keep his mouth shut. Still, he trained his gaze on the guy in the suit, letting him know if he didn’t get his ass off the property pronto, he’d have him to deal with. Steven’s eyes narrowed while he considered his next move. Then he said, �śI’ll leave. For now. But this isn’t over,” he added, and turned to go. As he strode briskly away, Paul followed him around the house to the driveway and, slapping the side of the hammer into the palm of his free hand several times, watched as Steven slid into a sleek Jag, gunned the motor and backed down the driveway before turning and heading down the mountain. Shaking his head, he stalked back to where he’d left Kayla. She was still there, her hands in fists at her side, a look he hadn’t seen on her face before. She was quietly furious. He couldn’t blame her. He shook his head again. �śWhat a creep.” �śHow dare you?” she said. �śExcuse me?” �śWhat gave you the right to say what you said to him? Who gave you permission?” Paul was so taken aback by her attack, he could barely speak. He’d expected, at the least, agreement on Steven’s lousy personality; at the most, maybe a thank you or two. He had not expected to see this slender woman shaking with a silent rage aimed squarely at him. �śWell, excuse me,” he said when he managed to find the words. �śI thought I was helping you.” �śBy doing your caveman routine? I don’t want that. I don’t need that.” �śListen, lady, you might think you don’t need it, but the guy was�"” She made an impatient gesture with her hand, cutting him off. �śSpare me. I know how to handle Steven.” �śDidn’t look like you were doing much of a job.” Her chin jutted out in defiance. �śAll right, then, I wasn’t doing much of a job. Either way, it’s my business. If you’d had your way there would have been a fight. I don’t like fights. And I don’t like men who engage in them. When and if I need your help, I’ll ask. Do you understand?” He glared at her, all kinds of hostile responses whipping through his head, but none he would say to a woman. He ground his back teeth together and clenched and unclenched his jaw muscles several times before he was able to say, �śYes, ma’am. I most certainly do.” Chafing at her dressing-down and his impotence to respond, he stormed off, heading for the stairs and the resumption of his chores. Damned if he’d ever come to the widow Thorne’s aid again. In fact, he decided, he didn’t need this stupid job at all. He could find Jay Vinovich without Kayla’s help. It would be difficult; but he could do it. He’d have to, because when he was done here for the day, he was done here for good. Chapter 4 An hour later, Kayla found Paul at the top of the staircase, working on the banister, which had a tendency to jiggle when you touched it. She stood several steps below him. His back was to her, and she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. He took his sweet time doing it, which she probably deserved. And when he finally angled his head around, his face was a perfect mask of detachment. �śYes?” �śI’m sorry,” she told him. His gaze met hers without blinking, then he nodded once, growled �śFine,” and returned to his work. She remained where she was. �śPaul? I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that. It was Steven who deserved my anger, not you.” She waited again while he seemed to mull over her words. Then he turned around and stared down at her. At this angle, he seemed impossibly tall and imposing, and she was glad he was on her side. As though reading her mind, he set down his tools and lowered himself onto the top step, his elbows resting on his bent knees, his hands clasped between his legs. Grateful that he was obviously willing to discuss things a bit longer, Kayla sat a couple of steps lower down, angled her body around and gazed up at him. �śYou had a hammer in your hand and a look in your eye. And, well, I get this kind of knee-jerk reaction to, well, the way men are so quick to use physical threats to settle scores between them. You know, pissing contests. They make me uncomfortable. I prefer to try to reason things out.” �śI have a knee-jerk reaction to men who threaten women.” She allowed herself a small smile, acknowledging the ambiguity in the situation. �śGood for me you do. This time, anyway. It made Steven go away. Thank you.” He rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing at it, as though he were tired. Then he emitted a loud sigh. �śHe’ll be back, you know.” �śSteven never goes away.” �śIs he out of control? Has he ever been violent with you?” �śNot so far. Let’s hope he remains that way.” His look said he was skeptical about that possibility. �śWell, whatever you think about the way I handle myself, a physical threat is the only language some people understand. I’m good at that. So�"” He paused, frowned as he silently considered something. Then he shook his head, as though thoroughly disgusted with himself before he went on. �śLook, I’ll stay out of your business. But�Śhey, I’m here if you need me.” At these words of support, even though they’d been delivered with obvious reluctance, a sweet warmth filled her insides. �śThat’s about the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in, well, in a long, long time.” She reached up and laid her hand on his forearm. It was the first time she’d actually touched him, and the fact that his skin, under a light dusting of surprisingly soft hair, was warm and his arm was rock-hard with muscle reassured her even more. �śThank you. That means a lot.” Crea-e-eak. At first she incorporated the noise into her dream, something sensual about a huge, unsmiling-but-studly man and a bed with old box springs. Crea-ee-eak. But then Kayla sat straight up in bed, her heart thudding, her throat clogged with fear. It was not a dream. It was the same noise she’d heard two nights ago. Again, it came from her downstairs porch. Instinctively, her mind sought answers. If it was an animal, there was nothing out there to attract it. She’d thoroughly cleaned the compost pile. All garbage was in plastic bags in the mudroom. There wasn’t even anything growing in her garden to tempt the noncarnivores; all the weeds were gone. She intended to plant all kinds of nourishing vegetables after winter passed, in the early spring. Crea-eee-eak. A wild thought entered her head that she ought to get Paul to fix those loose slats. Sooner rather than later. But if he did, she wouldn’t have any warning sign when there was a trespasser, and then, whatever or whoever it was could creep up on her while she was sleeping. That scary little notion was enough to make her vault out of bed, don her robe and slippers and, again, reach for the poker sitting by the corner fireplace. Oh, how she did not want to know what was down there. She much preferred waiting it out in hopes that it would just go away. But this time, it might not. Would she have to get an alarm system now? No, no, that went against everything that was tradition up here on the mountain. The citizens of Cragsmont trusted one another, didn’t even bother to lock their doors. The sound of her rapid heartbeat thrumming in her ears sure wasn’t making it any easier to think. Whatever the answer, she needed to find out. Before leaving the bedroom, she glanced at the easy chair under the window where Bailey lay, his eyes closed, a soft snore emanating from his tiny mouth, oblivious to any danger. His deafness was a definite aid to a good night’s sleep�"his own, anyway. And his sense of smell wasn’t too keen anymore, as well. Either that, or whatever was downstairs didn’t have much of an odor, not one that tiny dogs responded to. Pulse speeding at a jackhammer pace, Kayla crept down the stairs, flashlight in one hand, her trusty poker in the other. Please let these night sounds be the norm, she prayed silently. Because if they were, then she would just have to get used to nocturnal life on the mountain. Or she would just have to leave. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused and listened. No more creaking, but now there was a kind of crackling whoosh, as though tree or bush branches were being disturbed. Then she heard an elongated moan, which made an involuntary cry escape her lips and the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. Again she had to fight the urge to dash back upstairs and hide under the bed. Instead, Kayla crept over to the window nearest the sound, crouched low and peered out. In the moonlight, she could just discern a dark shadow melding into the bushes. A bear? It didn’t seem big enough. Or maybe it was a small bear. It was hard to tell, only that it was a form that stood on two legs. An upright-standing animal. Or a human. Or a spirit from the netherworld, she thought wildly, suddenly remembering Melinda and her creepy warning about �śthe bodies and the bones.” Nonsense, she told herself sternly, shining her flashlight on the form just as it disappeared from sight. She considered heading for the sliding glass doors that led onto the porch, opening them and racing out after whatever it was, but as soon as the thought popped into her head, she vetoed it as being not only foolish but potentially dangerous. As she’d done the other night, she sat down on the lower step of the staircase and waited. Déj� vu all over again. Would whatever it was return? All she could do was wait and see. In the next half hour or so, Kayla heard a coyote howling in the distance, then the scream of some small animal. She shuddered. She’d wanted the mountaintop and here she was. No reporters, no traffic, no shouting, no sirens, no cars backfiring, no boom boxes or TVs played at high decibel levels as though their owners gave not one whit who they were disturbing. It was why she was up here, why she had planned on being up here for several months. The quiet. She sought it out, always had. Quiet soothed her. It was where she found her soul. Except maybe not so much tonight. After a while, Kayla rose to her feet. Time to head up to bed. But she paused, thought about it. Shouldn’t she�"now that her visitor had gone�"go out on the porch and, well, investigate? As quietly as possible, she crept to the rear of the living room, clicked on the outside light, then slid open the doors. Peering out, she shone the flashlight the length of the porch in both directions. Nothing obviously out of place, nothing unusual that she could see. Suddenly her attention was caught by something on the floor, just below her�"a mound of some sort lying a foot or so from the doorway. She shone the flashlight down on it. Then she screamed. The minute Paul opened the kitchen door, he took one look at Kayla and said, �śWhat’s the matter?” She was leaning against the wall next to the mudroom. She held a cup of coffee in both hands, but they were shaking, so she was having trouble holding it. Her hair was loose and obviously hadn’t been combed. She was in her robe and fuzzy slippers again. And her skin was an unhealthy pallor, with black circles under her eyes. �śNothing,” she said, avoiding his eyes. �śBull.” He set his backpack down on the counter next to the sink and laid the jacket he’d had slung over his shoulder on top of it. �śHas that guy been back?” She frowned, looked confused. �śWhat guy?” �śThorne’s son. Steven.” �śOh. No, no. I�Śjust didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all.” �śWhy?” �śI just didn’t.” �śAre you sure that’s all?” She managed to get her cup to her mouth and take a swallow of coffee before she nodded. �śYes, that’s all.” He didn’t buy it, not for one minute, and it was damned frustrating. Why the hell was he here? Hadn’t he been on the verge of quitting yesterday? Why in God’s name hadn’t he followed through? Now here he was, once again caught up in this woman’s problems, even though she was, once again, pushing him away. He shook his head. Man, he must be three kinds of fool. Okay, then. She didn’t want him to push? She was �śtired” and that was all? Fine. He’d back off. Hell, he probably didn’t look too hot this morning, either, and for the same reason she claimed. He hadn’t slept well at all, not last night, not in a long time. He’d probably forgotten how. Now that he was out, he ought to be catching up on his sleep. He had a clean room in town, worked his tail off during the day, had plenty of fresh air and sunshine and decent food. A perfect prescription for a good, long slumber. But there was still some hangover of mistrust from his prison days: inside, he’d had to lie in bed, his back to the wall, his lids closed, but with that extra eye cons developed wide open, waiting for the unexpected, ready to defend himself. That kind of habit was hard to break. The last couple of nights, when he did manage to fall into a fitful sleep, his dreams made him restless. Bad prison memories, sure. Also lots of crude fantasies, pretty much focusing on Kayla Thorne and what he’d like to do to her. None of which made for a decent night’s sleep. In fact, with all the action in his head, it was a wonder he managed to get any shut-eye at all. �śI’m going to help myself to coffee,” he said, feeling downright surly, �śif that’s all right with you.” She seemed to snap out of her fog. She stood straighter, pushed herself away from the wall. �śOf course. I’m sorry. I should have offered.” �śNot really. I work for you, remember?” He took a cup from the row of other mismatched mugs hanging from hooks above the stove and filled it with the steaming, pungent-smelling liquid. He took a healthy slug, then nodded. �śI’ll be working on the roof and rain gutters today. Best to get to them before the rains come. If you need me, for anything,” he couldn’t help adding, �ślet me know.” He drilled her with his gaze as he said this. Sure enough, she was trembling, her eyes wide and defenseless. Emitting a muttered curse, Paul set his cup down, went over to Kayla, pried her cup out of her unsteady fingers and set it next to his. �śTell me, dammit,” he demanded, wanting to touch her, to shake her, to comfort her. He kept his hands clenched at his side. �śTell me,” he said again. She put a quivering hand over her mouth and shook her head. Then she closed her eyes, lowered her hand. A single tear appeared below the lashes of one eye and made its meandering way over her cheek. �śI keep telling myself I can take care of this myself, but I’m not sure that’s the truth.” �śTake care of what?” She raised her lids; both eyes glistened with unshed tears. �śThere were noises last night. Again. The same as Sunday night. They woke me up.” �śDid you see it? Him?” �śOnly shadows.” �śAn animal?” �śI don’t think so. But I can’t be certain. It stood upright.” �śUpright?” He wanted to wipe away her tears, offer comfort of some sort. Instead, he held up a warning hand. �śNow, don’t jump on me, okay? I have to ask. Are you sure it wasn’t a dream? Or your imagination?” �śIt was most definitely not my imagination,” she said with a shaky smile, swiping at her tears. Then she swallowed. This was obviously difficult for her. �śIt, he, whatever, left me a�Śgift.” Again, she swallowed, then shuddered. �śOne very large, very dead rat.” Her words sent a chill all through him, making the cop in him kick in like it hadn’t in years. In the criminal world, rats were left at the doors of informers, letting them know they were on the list for extermination. Did that apply here? Forget the notoriety, media speculation and suspicion. Forget her late husband’s family, their anger and resentments. Did the world according to Kayla Thorne also include some kind of Mob connection? Considering who her brother was, it wasn’t as far-fetched as it might sound. Or maybe Walter Thorne had been involved in illegal activities. Paul knew nothing about the man, only that he had been powerful and wealthy. No theory could be counted out. �śA dead rat,” he repeated. �śYes.” �śWhere is it now?” She pointed to the kitchen door. �śJust outside, to the right. In a large plastic bag.” Kayla felt herself shuddering again; it seemed her body hadn’t stopped quaking since she’d seen the dead rodent lying on her porch. It had been large and ugly, with its pointed snout and mouth agape, revealing sharp teeth, its tail long and skinny and somehow malevolent. Her first instinct had been to vomit, but she’d swallowed back the bile. Then she’d wanted to close the door and deal with it later. Only the fact that a dead animal might attract other animals�"like bears�"made her decide she had to dispose of it, and quickly. Without giving herself time to think, she’d dashed into the kitchen, gathered her plastic gloves, an entire roll of paper towels, and two plastic garbage bags, then dashed back to the porch. Again swallowing down the urge to throw up, she’d piled thick layers of paper toweling over the thing before counting to three then scooping it up and thrusting it into the bag, which she’d immediately tied shut. Then she’d inserted the bag into another and tied that one tightly. She’d torn through the house, set the sack outside the kitchen door, and shut and locked the door behind her. She hadn’t even wanted it in the mudroom, hadn’t wanted it anywhere under her roof. That had been about three in the morning. She’d spent the rest of the night pacing the house, then had fallen asleep on the living room couch, awakening a couple of hours later with the sun. She’d forced herself to go outside and walk around the property. She’d checked the compost heap�"nothing irregular. She’d looked for footprints�"none that she could see. Finally, she’d headed back to her kitchen and brewed a huge pot of coffee. Now she watched Paul as he stepped outside and grabbed the bag. He tore it open, reached in and pulled the dead animal out by its tail. She flinched, had to fight down nausea again as he turned it around, studied it. �śHmm. No signs of injury. It wasn’t run over by a car, that’s for sure. Or attacked by an animal�"there are no bite marks, no blood. In fact, it looks perfectly healthy. Except for the fact that it’s dead,” he added with one lifted eyebrow. �śFrom natural causes. Which means other animals, usually. Or mankind. Maybe he ate something. Poison?” �śRats get food poisoning?” A hysterical laugh escaped before she cupped a hand over her mouth. Uh-oh. She had to be careful. She was acting like a crazy woman. A frown knit Paul’s dark eyebrows. �śHey, are you okay?” �śJust a little emotional. And I hate myself for it.” �śWhy?” �śIt’s so, you know, female, to get upset by rodents. And if you think this is bad, you don’t want to see me around snakes.” �śI’m not exactly jumping with joy here myself,” he said gruffly, then replaced the rodent corpse in the bag, closed it up, retied it and set it back down on the ground. �śYou haven’t set out traps or anything like that, have you?” �śNo, not with Bailey around. And, well, I wouldn’t want to harm the wildlife around here.” �śHave you had any problems with rats up here?” �śNot that I’m aware of. Field mice, that’s all.” �śNo noise in the eaves? Scurrying sounds?” �śI know what scurrying rats sound like,” she said darkly. �śThey were a fact of my childhood. It’s why I’m not real happy to have this little reminder.” Kayla had just given him a small glimpse into her past, Paul realized. Small, but real. �śThat’s tough.” She shrugged off his attempt at being a nice guy. �śWhat do you think I should do about this, Paul? I mean, why would someone or something leave me a dead rat? Was it some kind of present, do you think? Bears don’t bring people gifts, do they?” Again she stifled a giggle. �śI mean, cats bring you dead birds as tokens of affection, but I’ve never heard of rats being presented in the same way, have you?” �śNo,” he agreed, �śnot as presents. If this rat didn’t crawl onto your porch and just keel over, then this has a distinctly human feel to it. We need to call the cops.” �śI thought of that.” �śAnd?” �śI didn’t.” �śWhy?” �śI thought I might be making too much of a fuss.” �śBetter than not making enough of one.” He reached for the wall phone, picked up the receiver. �śWho do you call if there’s trouble up here? Local? County? State cops?” �śI have no idea.” �śSit down and drink your coffee. I’ll take care of this.” She sat meekly, as though glad to have direction. Paul dialed 911 and was connected with the state police. At first they gave him some rigmarole about it being a nonemergency, but he finally got their attention when he mentioned he was speaking for the widow of the late Walter Thorne. They snapped to after that, said they’d have someone up there right away. He reported all this to Kayla, who, now seated at the small kitchen table, thanked him but did not look pleased. �śSo, is someone playing a joke on me?” �śMaybe.” �śOr trying to frighten me?” �śLooks that way.” �śWell, good for them. It’s working.” She crossed her arms and hugged them tightly to her body. He got her coffee cup and shoved it at her. �śYou shouldn’t be up here alone.” Dammit. He was concerned for her; she was way more fragile than she wanted to admit. �śBut I want to be up here alone. It’s why I came here. To get away. To be alone.” It came to him, suddenly, that with all the energy he was investing in Kayla’s well-being, he was forgetting his original reason for seeking out and getting this job. He was becoming soft, and that wouldn’t get him anywhere. The opening had presented itself, and he needed to take advantage of it�Śeven though he felt strangely guilty about capitalizing on her fear. He sat down on the other chair and faced her across the small, cramped table. �śRight now,” he said, �śuntil we know what’s going on, you need someone to stay with you.” �śThat defeats the purpose of being alone, doesn’t it?” He pushed. He had to. �śI don’t mean to open a sore subject, but with all those brothers, isn’t there one of them that you could ask? One of them you could get in touch with?” �śNo,” she said, cutting him off, her back stiff. �śAnd please don’t go there again.” �śSorry,” he said, meaning it in more ways than one. �śNo, I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help, and I appreciate it.” She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. Her fingers were cold, but his skin jumped, as though she’d brought heat to it. �śIt is a sore subject and I’m probably unreasonable. I worked my whole life to pull myself out of a pretty dismal childhood. And I’m just much better off not looking back. Which includes all talk about my family. Okay?” �śOkay.” She removed her hand from his arm; he wanted to tell her to put it back. Okay, then, he thought silently, this was a dead end. Kayla Thorne would not be helping him to find Jay Vinovich, aka Jay Goodall, who’d disappeared so that neither Paul nor his lawyer could depose him again. Which probably meant he wouldn’t be available for a new trial. Which probably meant a new trial might be moot, so Paul would remain free. Good news, for sure. But his name and his rep would still be smeared. And that was almost worse than the prospect of going back inside. He’d just have to find another way to track down Kayla’s brother. The two state policemen who came were in uniform. One was young, mid-twenties or so with a full head of black hair; the other was nearing fifty, paunchy and balding. Paul watched as Kayla did most of the talking, introducing himself to them by first name only, saying he was the handyman and had arrived there an hour before. He didn’t let them know he’d been on the force in Albany, or that he’d served time; if they knew the latter they would have directed their suspicions on him. It was common practice�"a guy had a record, he was the number-one suspect. Kayla took them out on the porch and to the compost heap, filling them in on what had happened last night and two nights earlier. The younger cop was bored, barely polite; the older one, Sergeant Miles, was kinder. He said it sure sounded like neighborhood kids up to mischief. But they would file a report. When Paul wondered aloud if they were going to autopsy the rat, they both looked at him with �śAre you putting me on?” expressions, but on Kayla’s insistence, they took the rodent corpse with them for storage and possible further use in the investigation. After they left, Kayla and Paul stood outside and watched them back down the driveway. Then she turned to him with an arched eyebrow. �śLot of good that did.” He shrugged. �śYeah, I know. It wasn’t much help.” �śAnd now I look like some hysterical fool.” �śYeah, but now you’re on record, in case.” She frowned. �śYou mean, in case there’re more�Śincidents?” Again, he shrugged. �śHey, who knows? And this way there’s a paper trail.” She nibbled her bottom lip. �śOh.” �śLook,” he said abruptly. �śI’d better get to those rain gutters and the roof.” She seemed startled at the change of subject, then her hand flew to her mouth. �śYes, of course. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She looked so damned apologetic, he felt irritated with her. She didn’t get it. He wasn’t doing her any favors, he was just responding like any man would to any woman in trouble. �śYou’re not bothering me,” he said gruffly. Over the next hour, his mind zipped all over the place as he pondered the situation. Kayla was of no use to him anymore, as far as clearing his name went. But he would stay, for a few days, anyway, because something fishy was going on. If someone was out there, trying to do her harm, he didn’t like that, didn’t like that at all. She was no longer a face on the TV. He knew her now. As a human being. As a person. A woman. A woman he wanted in his bed. Her bed. Hell, any bed. As he made his way carefully over the pitched roof, checking for rotting shingles, he wondered if she was aware that she sent him a lot of mixed signals. He was no dummy; at some level, he turned her on. But she wasn’t too nuts about that fact, he also got that. And she wasn’t the �śroll in the hay and forget about it” type, which was all he was interested in. And despite her modest clothing and attitude, she was very wealthy and he was an ex-con with no money, no rep. So for all those reasons�"and probably more that he wasn’t considering�"it was a dead end sex-wise. But she was in trouble, and had no idea why, and that got to him, big-time. Maybe, like the two state cops had said, what was going on was only a neighborhood kid doing mischief. Or maybe that scumbag who’d threatened her yesterday was trying to scare her. Whatever. He didn’t like people who threatened women. He’d been raised that way and nothing was going to change him. Which was why he found himself climbing back down the ladder and walking around the house till he found her, turning over the earth in her garden. �śKayla?” She looked up at him. �śYes?” �śWhy don’t I stay here tonight?” Startled, her eyes widened. �śOh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” �śYou didn’t ask. I offered.” She gave it two seconds of thought, then broke eye contact and went back to her weeding. �śI’ll be fine,” she said. �śThanks, anyway.” Late that afternoon, Kayla was driving down the mountain, headed to Susanville, when she saw Paul, his backpack strapped on his back, walking along the road. She applied the brakes, lowered the passenger window and called out, �śGive you a lift?” �śThanks,” he said, and got in. �śDon’t you have a car?” she asked as she drove on. �śNo.” �śThen how have you been getting up here?” �śHank drops me off in the morning, when he can. Otherwise I hike it. And I walk home at night.” �śBut it’s more than three miles to Cragsmont.” �śBelieve me, I consider it a gift to be able to walk three miles.” She nodded. Of course he would appreciate the freedom, the open space. �śWell, I’m on my way down to Susanville, so I can drop you off at Cragsmont on the way.” �śActually, if you’re going to Susanville, can I hitch a ride with you? I’ve got some business to attend to.” �śGlad to.” Kayla chastised herself for having given no thought as to how Paul got to and from working for her. She hadn’t even noticed the lack of another vehicle in her driveway. Had the years with Walter turned her into one of those women who expected the help to magically arrive and depart, to have no lives of their own except to serve their employers? She hated the thought. �śI’m sorry.” �śFor what?” �śIt didn’t occur to me that you didn’t have your own transportation.” �śI don’t have much of anything.” He shrugged. �śThat’s how it is when you’ve been incarcerated. No car, no money, nothing. My lawyer and my ex got everything.” He said it without a trace of self-pity, or much emotion at all, but she felt for him, anyway. This wasn’t a career criminal; this was a proud man who had had a family and a job with respect�"he’d risen to the rank of detective, Hank had told her�"and now, to be reduced to little more than a minimum-wage worker�Ś Just how much did he get paid out of the money she gave to Hank? Kayla wondered. But then she dismissed the thought as none of her business. She needed to steer clear of Paul Fitzgerald and his troubles. Except that she didn’t seem to be able to. �śHas the adjustment to being out been difficult?” His answer was a small, mirthless chuckle. �śNot as difficult as the adjustment to going in.” �śI can only imagine.” �śNo, you can’t.” After a moment, he added darkly, �śTrust me. You don’t want to.” She assumed that was all he was willing to say, but he surprised her by telling her more. �śYeah. In one nightmarish month, I lost my job, my wife, my freedom and the respect of my peers. Most of all I lost my good name. I think that killed me most of all.” �śOh, Paul. How awful.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, which she now knew meant he was feeling emotions he didn’t want to show. �śI’m going to get it all back,” he said, steel in his tone. �śWhen I get the evidence on the creeps who did this to me, believe me, they’ll pay. Big time.” �śYou want revenge.” �śDamn right. And I’ll get it. I intend to destroy the people who destroyed me.” From someone else, the words might have sounded melodramatic, but from Paul Fitzgerald, they came across as the simple, stark truth. So much anger, she thought, so much bitterness. His unexpressed rage filled the car’s atmosphere, made her edgy, uncomfortable. Not only because all masculine anger felt threatening, but because his need for revenge was familiar to her. She’d felt the same way once, a long time ago. Paul wanted to kick himself for revealing so much of his insides to Kayla. It was way too intimate, too naked. She was his employer, not his friend, and he cursed himself silently. As if his harsh statement had swept away the need for any more attempts at communication, they were silent with each other the rest of the ride down the mountain. She was a good driver and she maneuvered the Mercedes around the twists and curves with ease. Classy car, costly car, and it purred. His hands flexed. Man, would he love to get behind the wheel of this baby. In the light of the fading day, they drove past Cragsmont’s town center, which consisted of a post office, a park, a couple of other one-story buildings, and Hank’s hardware store, and then through Hilltown�"a gas station and convenience store�"until finally they were on flat ground, in the valley heading into Susanville. �śWhere can I drop you?” Kayla asked, breaking the silence. He shrugged. �śWherever it’s convenient for you.” �śIt’s convenient for me to drop you where you’re going,” she insisted. �śWhich is�Ś?” �śThe library.” She steered the car along the main drag, then turned left onto a side street, pulling up in front of a three-story, wood-framed Victorian with the words Susanville Library on a wooden post in front. Paul reached for the door handle, turning to thank her, but was stopped by the expression on her face: she seemed to be looking inward, mulling over a difficult decision. He waited. Finally, she eased the gear handle into Park and turned a troubled, blue-eyed gaze on him, a frown between her brows. �śPaul?” �śYes?” �śAbout what we were talking about before,” she said hesitantly. �śI know it’s none of my business, but I can’t help hearing how much�Śrage you have inside you. I want you to understand that, well, I know what you’re feeling. Needless to say, you have every right to your anger�Ś.” She stopped. �śBut?” She placed her hand on his arm, the way she did when she needed to make a point, wanted him to hear her. �śI’m going to sound preachy here.” He stiffened, then muttered, �śGo on.” �śThat kind of emotion will eat you up inside. It will hold you back, make you bitter. You won’t be able to start your life again until you let go of it.” She was right on the money: she sounded preachy. Her words of advice made him feel belligerent. �śOh, really. And just what do you know about it?” �śQuite a lot, actually,” she said grimly, then offered a brief, sad smile. His hostility ebbed as, frowning, he gazed at that lovely face of hers, waiting for her to go on. But she didn’t. What kind of pain had she experienced? Hell, how could anything in Kayla Vinovich Thorne’s life possibly compare to what he’d been through? As he asked himself that question, he realized that it not only smacked of self-pity, but was pretty strong evidence of his own self-absorption. Understandable, sure, but still�Ś What was her story? He really wanted to know. One of five kids, she’d said, all boys except for her. Had they beaten her? Abused her? The thought was not a pleasant one, and it made that easily tapped anger of his begin to simmer. The way she talked�"or refused to talk�"about her family might mean she was an abuse victim. Sexual or otherwise. Damn. �śKayla?” �śYes?” �śI, um, appreciate your kindness.” �śBut I should keep my mouth shut.” �śNo, I didn’t mean�Ś” He blew out a breath, not sure what he wanted to say until it came out. �śI used to be a nicer person. I mean, I know I’m�Śangry, but I didn’t used to be this way. Sure, I had a temper, but I knew how to control it, and I never, ever got physical, you have to believe me.” �śI do.” �śIt’s just that, where I was, behind bars, it just got harder and harder to control.” �śI understand.” And he knew she did. He didn’t know what else to say; all he knew was that she got to him, with the understanding and old pain in her eyes, and that his skin prickled, even through his jacket, at the touch of her graceful fingers curled around his arm. So what? The question intruded on the quiet of the moment. He was letting down his guard, and he couldn’t do that; he had to keep and nurture his fine, razor-sharp edge of hate if he was ever to clear his name. �śThanks for the ride,” he said abruptly. Jerking his arm out from under her gentle grip, he reached for the door handle. �śI’ll be heading home around nine or so,” she told him. �śIf you want a ride back, meet me at the grocery store on Middle Street.” �śI appreciate it,” he said gruffly, and began to push the door open. �śPaul?” Something in her voice made him stop, turn and face her. �śYes?” To his surprise, she raised a hand, stroked his cheek, just once, then leaned into him and gave him a brief, light kiss on the mouth. Just a butterfly touch, but it was enough to send his senses into overdrive. Releasing the door handle, he moved toward her, reached out to touch her. But his momentum was stopped by the way she jerked her head back, hissed in a breath and stared at him, wide-eyed. She, too, had been taken by surprise, and was now probably kicking herself for her impulsiveness. She turned away from him, faced front and put the car in gear. �śSee you later.” �śFine.” He got out, closed the door and watched her drive away. Then he raised his hand to his cheek, touched his fingertips to where she’d stroked it. Man, was he in trouble. Kayla Thorne pulled him away from the tunnel vision he so desperately needed. Kayla Thorne reminded him of the world of not what could go wrong, but what could go right between a man and a woman: quiet talks, gentle touches, wordless communication. Kayla Thorne made him feel soft inside. Damn her. Chapter 5 Red curls bouncing, Lou McAndrews came rushing into the restaurant, the way she always rushed everywhere. When she spotted Kayla seated at a table, she hurried over, hugged her, then took her own seat and grinned. �śIt’s so good to see you, girlfriend.” �śSame here,” Kayla said with an answering smile. �śHow’s that little Bailey dog?” �śStill hanging in.” Kayla had met the town’s veterinarian, Louise McAndrews, on her first visit to the cabin with Walter. When Bailey had developed a hot spot that he couldn’t stop nibbling at, they’d taken him to the small office-hospital of Dr. Lou, as the locals called her. The two women had hit it off immediately, the way it sometimes happens between kindred spirits, and over the past four years, in person and by phone, their friendship had blossomed. Kayla considered Lou a close friend and knew the feeling was mutual. �śMore important,” Lou said, checking her out thoroughly with warm brown eyes that missed nothing, �śhow are you doing?” �śSomewhat better, now that I’m up here. Although I’m having a little trouble adapting to the silence.” She’d decided not to tell her friend about the whispers in the night and the dead rat. The purpose of this dinner was to get away from all that. Besides, Lou had been so generous to Kayla this past year, calling often, visiting her several times in Albany, generally being a safe harbor when the grief was too hard to bear. Now it was Kayla’s turn to hear about Lou and her life. �śBetter the silence than getting ambushed by reporters,” Lou observed, having witnessed one of those incidents that last time she’d visited Kayla in Albany. �śAmen.” �śIf I ever think about being famous or infamous, you have my permission to kick me in my big butt.” �śWhat big butt?” Kayla said. �śIt’s normal, as God intended. It’s the rest of the sick world that’s hung up on women having backsides as small as men’s.” �śSays the too-slender model type sitting across from me.” �śI’m trying to fatten up, I promise. But enough about that. Tell me, how’s everything with you? And your mom?” �śStill with us.” Lou’s mother was in the final stages of cancer but was still at home with her daughter, whose life was reduced to days at her veterinary clinic downstairs and evenings upstairs with her mother. �śI’m so glad you could make it tonight,” Kayla told her. �śWe got mom a caregiver, so I can get away sometimes. Otherwise I’d slit my wrists.” �śGot you.” They each ordered a drink, then dinner, all the while chatting easily, about movies, gossip, the latest reality TV show. Lou told amusing stories about various eccentric pet owners, and Kayla teased her friend about her perennial lack of a love life. �śI don’t suppose you’re seeing anyone?” she asked. �śWhat?” Lou answered with a snort. �śAnd break my record? It’s eight years now. In fact, it’s been so long, I think my virginity has grown back. How about you? Whoops.” The redhead put her hand over her mouth. �śSorry,” she said, wincing. �śYou’re still in mourning.” �śNo, no. It’s okay.” A month, even two weeks ago, she might have been upset by the question, but something inside had changed. She was, she realized, finally on the other side of her grief. In fact, it was on the tip of her tongue to mention Paul. But to mention him how? Hey, girlfriend, she could say. I’ve got the hots for a hunky ex-con. No. She decided against it, just as she had earlier decided not to discuss the disturbances at her cabin. She chose instead to order a second martini and to laugh with her friend. The library had evening hours, so Paul was able to use their computers to log on to the Net. First he tried to see if there was anything new on Jay Goodall, but all that showed up was the mention of his name as one of the witnesses at Paul’s trial. There was more, Paul knew, but not for �śpublic” use. Informants were highly prized and kept pretty deeply under cover. As a disgraced officer of the law, he no longer had access to those kinds of confidential police files. It was thanks to his friends still on the force that he’d found out about the connection between Jay Goodall, the witness against him, and Jay Vinovich, petty thief and brother of Kayla Thorne. Through his lawyer, Paul had received updated reports while in jail, which was how he’d become familiar with his present employer and her life. From the background information gathered by various local and state newspapers, he knew she’d been born in Bakersfield, California, twenty-nine years earlier. As she’d told him, she’d been one of five kids. The mother had died in childbirth with the last one, when Kayla had been three. Her father was an uneducated itinerant worker, which meant the family moved around a lot. A couple of her brothers had been in scrapes, a minor drug charge�"older brother Jay�"and a DUI�"younger brother Thomas. Kayla had left home before graduating high school in Phoenix, had worked her way across the country, winding up in New York City. She’d put herself through nursing school, after which she’d secured a job at the hospital where Sonny Thorne had been going for cancer treatments. To earn extra money, Kayla had filled in as Mrs. Thorne’s private duty nurse during her off hours. The older woman took a liking to her, and when she decided to live out her last days at home, in Albany, rather than dying in the hospital, she’d offered Kayla a job nursing her. These were facts, only, of course; there wasn’t a hint of what her real, inner life had been like. Paul and Kayla had something pretty major in common. Both had lost their mothers at an early age. He’d been lucky to have a loving father and a couple of okay brothers to fill the gap. From what he knew about her, it didn’t sound as though Kayla had been nearly as fortunate. He searched the Net for anything that might link either Kayla or her late husband to organized crime, but found nothing. If there were any ongoing investigations, of course, again, he had no access to official information, which made him feel frustrated. The rat left on the porch bothered him. Even though the state cops thought it was a harmless prank�"and back in the days when he was on the job, he probably would have had the same opinion�"he wasn’t so sure. There was something�Śominous about it. Was it a warning? A precursor of more ahead? More what? Bad jokes or malice? He had no way of knowing. He punched in the name Steven Thorne. Wealthy, fifty-two. He’d been in business with his dad, two marriages, both ended in divorce. No children. No run-ins with the cops, no rumors of shifty business practices, nothing at all on the iffy side of the ledger. But then, as Paul knew all too well, with enough money, you could cover up anything. He sat back in his chair, rubbed his eyes. Enough about Kayla Thorne and her problems. His dad had given him a prepaid phone card, so he went to a public phone booth and tried to make contact with the two close friends he still had in the Albany police department, to see if they’d come up with anything on his case. Charley Biggs wasn’t home so he left a message saying he’d call back tomorrow; the other, Brian Kaye, had been able to nose around�"surreptitiously, of course, which Paul understood�"and had been the one to connect Goodall to Vinovich and the earlier drug charges, which had been wiped from his record, probably when he’d turned informant. Since then, not a word�"his files were sealed pretty tightly, so there was no obvious connection to the corrupt cops who had been the cause of Paul’s conviction. But Brian promised to keep plugging away; he’d been Paul’s partner and remained a loyal friend, for which Paul was more grateful than he could express. Finally, he called his dad. Their conversation was much less emotional than the previous one had been�"the day he got released. Dad had wanted him to come right home, but Paul had needed to take advantage of his proximity to Kayla Thorne first. Today he was rewarded by a pep talk from the strong, decent man who had raised three boys alone after his wife had died, way too young. Lucas Fitzgerald, a retired firefighter, was confident that everything would work out, that the system always came through eventually. Paul wasn’t so sure about either. Still, it always warmed him to make contact with the old man, who he promised to visit soon, so it was with a lighter heart that he sought out the next item on his agenda: dinner. As he ambled along the streets of the town that was home to the state penitentiary, so recently the location of his incarceration, he breathed in the cool evening air, peered into shop windows, observed others out for a stroll, and felt his spirits rise. He could do these things now, nothing stood in his way. He noted Kayla’s car parked in front of what looked like a decent restaurant. Was she in there? he wondered. If so, who was she was eating with? A date? He scowled at the thought�"not that it was any of his business. Nah, it was probably not a date, not with the way she seemed to miss her husband, the sainted Walter Thorne, who had apparently known everything there was to know about everything in the universe, at least enough to awe his young wife. Paul scowled again. Like a homing pigeon, his mind kept returning to Kayla. She was much too much in his thoughts. He wound up at a fast-food place and treated himself to a huge double cheeseburger and jumbo fries and finished it off with a large piece of apple pie with two scoops of ice cream on top. He savored each bite; surely he’d never had such a fine meal in all his life. He kept glancing at his watch, making sure he’d be ready by nine. He didn’t want to miss a free ride back up the mountain. Bull. He didn’t want to miss her. He could swear his cheek was still warm from her touch, his mouth still savoring the kiss. Had there been sexual overtones? Or had she just been feeling kind? After dinner, Kayla stopped off at the C & L Market for groceries and a chat with Francis Crosbie, the proprietor, who also lived up the mountain, between Cragsmont and Susanville in the hamlet of Hilltown. Francis, another widow, had managed to keep her Susanville store a going concern, despite the chain supermarket that had opened a couple of miles down the road. The market was not large, but its shelves were stocked neatly and the meat and produce were fresh. As Kayla pushed her cart up and down the aisles, she found herself adding that little bit extra for Paul, then putting that little bit extra back on the shelf, then grabbing it again and tossing it into her cart. Wasn’t it always better to have more food than you needed? Besides, she could afford it. During their marriage, Walter had encouraged her to indulge herself a lot more than she did, and she’d always told him old habits died hard. When you grew up making do with an old scrap of a soap bar, hidden from your brothers so you could at least be clean when you went to school, when the clothes you wore were cast-offs rejected by a thrift store, well then, you had a heck of a time entering a large, lavish-looking boutique filled with expensive soaps and lotions and picking out anything that took your fancy. When it came to grocery shopping, the concept of �śhave it in the house, just in case” was foreign to her, but tonight, she made herself act as if there would always be enough money for food. Which, in fact, there always would. Her cart loaded to the brim, Kayla wheeled it over to the check stand manned by Francis. �śGood to see you, Mrs. Thorne,” the plump, gray-haired woman said as she began to ring up the purchases. �śKayla, please. I keep telling you.” �śAll these years I called your late husband Mr. Thorne. It’s a hard habit to break.” �śWill you make the effort?” Kayla asked with a smile. �śWill do,” Francis replied with a big, generous smile of her own. �śSo, how’s that handyman working out?” �śExcuse me?” �śYou got one of Hank’s guys doing chores for you, right?” �śHow did you know?” �śWord travels. I heard this one is an ex-cop.” �śYou heard right. I’m always amazed at the Cragsmont-Hilltown-Susanville grapevine, and how fast news gets up and down the mountain.” Francis shrugged easily, moving a large package of steaks along the scanner. �śHank comes in all the time, talks about his guys.” �śHe’s something, isn’t he?” �śThe handyman or Hank?” Kayla felt her cheeks heat up. �śHank.” �śSure is. The man does good deeds, just like the Bible says to do.” �śAnd I’m so glad he does,” Kayla agreed with a nod. �śYou don’t often hear about ex-cons getting a second chance.” �śThat’s ’cause Hank got one. Came back from serving his time, that was twenty years ago now, for armed robbery. His wife walked out on him, he was broke, at the end of his rope, thought about killing himself. But then it came to him�"in the Old Stone Church, he says�"kind of a voice in his ear said that if he could help others, his heart would heal. And by God, he has, and it has. Built up a nice little business for himself, our Hank.” The market owner was a bottomless font of information, so as Kayla was handing Francis her credit card, she asked, �śTell me, do you know anything about Melinda?” �śThe crazy mountain woman? Poor thing. Has she been bothering you?” �śNot really. She just came by once. Mumbled something about bones. Do you have any idea what that means?” �śHmm. Well, the Old Stone Church is on old Indian burial ground up there. And I think Melinda’s folks, going way back, were Indians. Probably something to do with that. She’s no danger to anyone�Śunless she’s gotten worse lately. I haven’t seen her in a while.” �śDoes she ever, you know, drop off gifts?” �śGifts?” Kayla made a face. �śI found a dead rat on the porch this morning.” �śA rat? Gee, I haven’t seen many of those up there. Of course,” she added philosophically, �śthey’re all over the planet now, aren’t they? Them and cockroaches.” Kayla grimaced again. �śSorry I asked.” At that minute, a gust of cold air hit her, and she glanced toward the market door. Paul stood in the entranceway, his eyes scanning the store. When he saw Kayla, he stood still for a moment, gazing at her. Then he nodded, smileless as ever. She’d wondered if he would show up, considering the fact that she’d behaved like an idiot. She shouldn’t have said anything to him about his anger. He hadn’t asked for her advice, so why had she given it? And she shouldn’t have touched him�Śor kissed him. But here he was. And she was awfully glad to see him. Smiling, she gave a quick wave, which made Francis glance over in that direction. The older woman, who missed nothing, raised an eyebrow. �śWhew. Who’s that?” �śThe handyman,” Kayla said casually, sensing her face warming as she did. Something odd was happening, also, to her insides. She felt�Śgiggly. A little breathless. Immature. As if she were in high school and the captain of the football team had singled her out for attention. Nothing like that had ever happened to Kayla in any high school she’d attended, for sure. Except for that one time. And while, on that evening thirteen years ago, she’d started out with naive hope in her heart and stars in her eyes, by the end she had learned a near-tragic lesson in the foolishness of expectations. That night, her life had changed forever. Francis, squinting, looked from Paul to Kayla, her shrewd gaze taking in way too much. �śHow do I order me up one of them?” A laugh bubbled up from inside her, and Kayla was relieved to have an outlet for the silliness of her reaction and the memories it evoked. �śCall Hank,” she said, and laughed along with the other woman. Paul stepped back from the automatic door, allowing it to close. He figured he was better off waiting for Kayla outside. The grocery store was too bright, too public, his instant physical reaction to the sight of her way too strong. This was bad. This was really bad. Just one look at the woman and his organ was at attention and saluting. Damn. It hadn’t happened like this for him since he’d been a randy youngster who seemed to go around with a hard-on every waking hour of the day. Tomorrow, he promised himself. Friday night. A mere twenty-four hours away. Come hell or high water, he would get himself back down here to Susanville and take care of his body’s needs with a willing woman who knew the score. It was becoming a necessity. Although he wondered if just addressing his raging hormones would do the trick. There was something more going on here than just the simple urge for sex, even if he didn’t want to admit it. What Kayla aroused in him wasn’t only physical; it was something deeper, something that concerned the heart. He brushed the thought aside as Kayla pushed her loaded cart through the door. Taking over, he hefted all four sacks out of the cart and walked with her toward the car. She popped the trunk and he loaded the stuff. Then he opened the driver’s side car door for her, which earned him a smile. Cocking her head to one side, she said, �śI had two martinis with dinner. Would you like to drive?” She held out the keys. Her offer took him by surprise, rendering him momentarily speechless. Then he managed to say, �śI�Śuh, I haven’t driven in quite a while.” �śI’m told it comes right back to you, like riding a bicycle.” He frowned, not quite sure how to take her offer. Was she being kind out of some misplaced sense of charity? �śBut, this is such a valuable car.” �śWhich is why it’s such a pleasure to drive.” She kept her gaze steady on his, waiting for him. Idiot, he told himself. Do it. �śThanks,” he said gruffly, then added, his mouth turning up at the corners, �śI’d like that.” �śPaul,” she said, her eyes wide with surprise, �śyou actually smiled.” �śSorry, I forgot myself.” �śAnd you made a joke, too. Will wonders never cease?” Making a mock-disgusted face at her teasing, he took the keys and walked her around to open the passenger door for her. �śNot only do you smile,” she observed as she got in, �śyou open doors. Be still my heart.” �śMy father insisted. Some women like it, some don’t.” One thin eyebrow arched. �śAnd sometimes I like it, sometimes I don’t.” �śWhich is why men get crazy,” he countered, earning him a delighted laugh. Paul, too, was surprised by his behavior. He was actually bantering. Trading quips. The whole thing was making him feel light-headed, nearly�Śhappy. He got in, adjusted the seat and the mirrors, all the while brimming inside with excitement. Kayla wasn’t simply being charitable; it was as though she actually liked him and wanted him to have a gift. Yeah, it was just to let him drive her car, that was all, but it seemed somehow more important than that. Would each small adaptation to his freedom feel as momentous as the events of this evening had been? he couldn’t help wondering. Probably not, he reflected with some rueful sadness. Eventually, he would begin to take the small, ordinary things of life for granted and forget how special they were. Which was a shame. The machine drove just like it looked�"sleek, smooth and expensive. It took the turns as though it had been programmed to do so without any human aid. And it was quiet�"no engine noise, just a satisfied hum. Paul sighed contentedly. �śNice,” he told Kayla. �śYes,” she agreed, then turned to face him. �śSo, did you accomplish what you wanted?” �śExcuse me?” �śIn Susanville. At the library. You said you had business there.” �śOh. Yes. I did some on-line research. For my case.” �śOh. Well, good.” �śAnd you?” Now it was her turn to say, �śExcuse me?” �śDid you accomplish what you wanted to?” She nodded. �śI had dinner with a friend, Lou McAndrews.” Lou. A friend. A male friend. Paul felt his good mood plummet. A friend, she’d said. Named Lou. Men and women could be friends, so they said. Although that hadn’t been his experience. Not unless the guy was gay or blind or deeply in love with someone else. Otherwise, there was always the sex thing�"acted on or not�"that came between them and true friendship. He pondered this as, on the outskirts of Susanville, the lights disappeared; as they climbed up the mountain, the only illumination came from translucent bumps dotted along the broken white line separating the two lanes. Many of those were missing. Winter snowstorms and the after-plowing ripped out eighty percent of them each year, and they were slow to be replaced. They drove in near blackness, a pale, three-quarter moon overhead, headlight beams alone lighting the road ahead, the towering trees on the side of the road, the shadows cast by the night. They lapsed into an easy silence, broken when Paul turned out of a sharp curve and came upon a form appearing in the headlights. At once, he slammed on the brakes. The machine responded perfectly, stopping mere inches from a deer. �śOh,” Kayla said with a quick, indrawn breath. �śHow lovely.” A deer caught in the headlights. It was a common catch-phrase, Paul knew, but now, as he gazed at the animal staring back at them, at its oversize ears and long, graceful neck, its small, feminine face and large, dark eyes, something stirred inside him. He was witnessing a creature of the wild. In person. Not passively observing it on a TV nature show. His reaction made him choke up and he had to swallow. Damn. His emotions were all over the place this evening, and he had to get a grip on himself. He flashed the brights, which brought the deer out of her trance. She loped across the road and disappeared into the trees. He drove on, more cautiously now. When he pulled up in front of Hank’s Cragsmont hardware store he put the car in Park. �śThis is where I get off.” �śYou live here, with Hank?” �śNo.” He draped his left arm over the steering wheel, turned to face her. In the light from the town’s single street lamp, her skin looked porcelain, ghostly. �śIn the back,” he told her, �śbehind the shop, Hank has his own house and a couple of cabins for his new recruits.” �śA cabin. How nice.” He shrugged. �śIt’s just a room.” �śDoes it have a kitchen?” �śNope, just one small room, a bath, a hot plate. It’s fine, trust me.” She hesitated, bit her lip, then said, �śLook, I know it’s none of my business, but can’t you go back? To your old job, I mean.” �śTo the Albany police force? Hardly. Nothing’s been disproved. To them, I’m still a dirty cop.” �śOh.” Feeling somehow invisible in the car’s dark interior, he allowed his gaze to roam her face, taking in the planes of her cheekbones, the softness around her mouth, the fullness of her lower lip, and he felt that same, now-familiar yearning toward her. �śSo, then,” she continued, �śdo you have plans? I mean for the future. I’m sorry, I know this is none of my business, I’m just so curious about you.” He liked that she wanted to know about him. The feeling was mutual. �śIt’s okay,” he assured her. �śAfter I get this case cleared up, then I’ll be able to think about what I’ll do next.” She nodded. �śYes, of course. That makes sense.” She turned her head and gazed front, at the blackness beyond. He waited, studied her profile. Did she have more questions? As far as he was concerned, at this moment he could talk to her all night. There was something so intimate about the darkened car, the quiet night, the mountains surrounding them. God, how he wanted to touch her. To stroke her cheek, as she’d stroked his earlier. And not just her cheek. Other parts of her, too. All the other parts of her. He was by nature a man used to being the aggressor when it came to women, and most of them liked that. But he wasn’t certain that was the right move in this instance, or if he should even be contemplating it. The situation was unique. Employee and employer, rich widow and penniless ex-con. In the stillness of the night, as he studied her face, he felt the air in the car filling with something subtle yet rich. Nothing he could put his finger on, but it was there. As though she was aware of the same change in the atmosphere, she turned her head, and her eyes met his. Their gazes locked. Time seemed suspended. He leaned in toward her, watched her face, deciding it was time to just test the damn waters. Then, from somewhere nearby, a dog barked. Loudly and aggressively. The noise snapped him out of whatever spell he’d been under. Shaking his head to clear it, Paul said, �śI guess it’s time to go.” He opened the car door, adding gruffly, �śThanks for the lift.” He put one foot on the ground but was stopped by the sound of her voice. �śPaul?” He turned his body and looked at her. �śYeah?” �śCan I ask you a favor?” �śSure.” �śI keep telling myself I’ll be fine�Śbut, well, will you go back to the house with me? Check around?” Disgusted with himself, he knocked the heel of his hand against the side of his head. �śOf course. I should have thought of that myself.” He swung his leg back into the car, closed the door and drove them the rest of the way up the mountain. Kayla’s mind was in disarray. She was such a hypocrite! Earlier in the day, Paul had offered to spend the night. She’d turned him down because that �śman the protector of the little woman” attitude that was so ingrained in alpha males turned her off. And Paul Fitzgerald was most definitely an alpha male. Now here she was, terrified to go home to a dark house and seeking that very same strength that had been anathema to her hours earlier. The truth was�Ś What was the truth? That she found him sexier than any man she’d ever known? Yes. That he could still terrify her with his simmering rage? Yes again. That just a moment ago he’d seemed on the verge of kissing her and she’d been on the verge of welcoming it? One more time, yes. Welcome to the grown-up world of ambivalence and ambiguity. Welcome to a world where there were no easy answers or solutions. Not even any easy questions. Such as what was she going to do about these feelings she was developing for Paul Fitzgerald? What should she do about them? At the house, Paul unloaded the groceries, then dealt with a furiously barking Bailey defending his kitchen by getting down on his haunches and offering his hand to sniff. �śHey, boy, remember me? I’m a friend.” Kayla smiled at the picture. Such a big man, such a little dog. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, there was gentleness inside Paul Fitzgerald, and that was the part of him that called to her more than anything. After he’d thoroughly checked the house and the surrounding brush, and reported all was well, he told her, �śI’ll head out now.” �śHow?” �śThe way I usually do. I’ll walk.” �śNonsense.” He seemed taken aback by her adamant response. �śHave you changed your mind? Do you want me to stay the night? I offered before, and I think it would be a good�"” �śNo,” she interrupted. �śGod, no!” Less adamantly, she said, �śI mean, take my car.” �śAbsolutely not.” �śI will not have you giving up all this time, working for me off the clock, hiking down the hill and back up again in a few hours. I absolutely insist.” He frowned and she could see that her argument made sense to him. Still he said nothing. �śWhat’s the problem?” As he shook his head, he expelled a breath. �śWhat if something happens and you need to get away?” �śI’m locking the doors. I’ll be fine.” �śBut what if something happens to the car? Another deer? A skunk, a drunken driver?” �śThat’s what insurance is for. Please, Paul. Take the car, come back in the morning. Win-win, as the saying goes.” After another moment, he nodded. �śOkay.” She walked him out to the Mercedes, Bailey trotting along after them. When they got there, she handed him the keys again and smiled. �śGood night, then.” He gave her another long, searching look, like the one they’d exchanged in the car in front of Hank’s. It was as though they were on the tail end of their first date and he was waiting for some signal from her. A signal that it was all right to kiss her good-night. High school again, she thought, her emotions all over the place. Total and complete juvenile-fantasy time, reliving something she’d never lived in the first place. �śTurn on all the lights, okay?” Paul whispered. �śGood idea,” she whispered back, then nodded and turned to leave. Out of nowhere, an idea zinged into her head, and she turned back and voiced it before considering the consequences. �śPaul?” �śYeah?” She leaned back against the car. �śThere’s another little house on the property, through the trees near the edge of the mountain. Did you notice it?” What are you doing? a voice screamed in her head, but she ignored it. He, too, leaned back against the car so they stood side by side instead of facing each other. �śThe shack down that little hill?” �śYes. It’s called the �Śgrandpa’ cabin, because over the years, various elderly members of Walter’s family lived there in summers, most recently Walter’s father. I never met him.” Now that she was making the suggestion, it made a lot of sense, and the words fairly tumbled from her mouth. �śIt’s not in great shape, but it can be fixed up enough to be habitable. And you have at least another week or two of repairs, and I hate to think of you having to hike up there in the mornings and hike back down at night. I was going to offer to pick you up, but maybe this would work out better. There’s even a little kitchen there. I don’t know.” She took a breath, slanted a sideways look at him. �śAre you interested?” She watched his profile in the weak moonlight. So stern, so unsmiling. The Cherokee ancestors ruled. He took quite a while before he shook his head. �śNo.” �śWhy?” He pushed himself away from the car, moved to stand right in front of her. He rested his broad hands against the car, one on either side of her head, his arms bracketing her, his body close, oh so close. �śBecause of this,” he growled, and lowered his head to capture her mouth with his. Chapter 6 There was nothing subtle about the kiss. Paul’s lips branded hers with their searing heat, taking savage possession. At once, he thrust his tongue inside and stroked all the sensitive areas there�"the roof of her mouth, her gum line, the soft skin behind her teeth�"before pulling at her tongue with the force of a riptide, bringing it into his mouth. Kayla heard the sounds in his throat, the sounds of a man deeply, sexually drawn to a woman, and, as though running on automatic, her body responded. Long-dormant senses were reawakened, brought to instant life. Grabbing the back of his head with both her hands, she met his tongue, his lips, his passion, with equal fervor. If he’d been aggressive in plundering her mouth, now his entire body responded to her tacit agreement to proceed. He pressed his taut body to hers, crushing her against the car’s hard surface. His breathing became a rhythmic rasp and she could feel him, all of him. The sheer brute strength of him, the rock-hard firmness of his muscles, and the heavy fullness between his legs pressing against her stomach. At first, she found it thrilling, that she could arouse so much passion so quickly, and she reveled in it, feeling as though something wanton in her soul had been set free. Then, something changed. The passion, it didn’t feel right. It felt�Śimpersonal, as though she were merely a convenience. Memories of another time, of a different, equally insistent male, assailed her. Now a sensation akin to panic arose in her chest, choking off her breath. Kayla shut down, unable to respond anymore. She removed her arms from around his neck and instead pushed at his chest, trying to move him away from her. The pressure of his unrelenting aggression was too much for her; she desperately needed oxygen. But he didn’t seem to notice, or care, didn’t move away. She tried to close her mouth, tried to avert her head. He responded by becoming more insistent, pressing harder against her. Sheer, unadulterated terror assailed her; her heart was beating so hard, she knew she was close to blacking out. With all the strength she could muster, she fisted her hands and pounded on his shoulders. It surprised him just enough to ease up on the pressure, enabling her to manage to say, �śNo! Paul, please, stop!” In the next instant, he’d stepped away from her, shaking his head, wiping his mouth. Nearly crying with the panic that had enveloped her, she gasped, �śYou’re�Śtoo hungry. You’re scaring me.” It was nearly impossible to get the words out, her chest was heaving so with exertion. �śI’m sorry.” He, too, was panting heavily. �śI’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have�"” �śNo, it’s not that,” she interrupted. The look on his face was so miserable with shame, she found herself actually wanting to comfort him, even as her terrified response was only just beginning to recede. �śIt’s not you. It’s me.” He rubbed one big hand over his face, once, twice, then shook his head. �śNo, no, it’s me. I am too hungry. It’s been so long. I mean, I haven’t�Ś” He heaved another huge exhalation. �śNot since�Ś” Again leaving the sentence unfinished, he continued to shake his head. �śYou haven’t what?” she wondered aloud through her pounding heartbeat and the whirl of confusion in her head. What did he mean? Then she got it. Her eyes widened in surprise. �śOh.” Her hand went to her throat. �śOh,” she said again, �śI see.” So, some of her reaction had been spot on�"his need for her hadn’t really been about her, only that he hadn’t been with a woman in a long time. He hung his head, his entire posture reflecting the fact that he was totally and thoroughly disgusted with himself. �śLook, I didn’t mean to let it get out of hand like that. It won’t happen again, okay?” Touched in some deep place within her, Kayla reached out a hand, then clenched her fist before she could make contact with him. �śPaul.” He lifted his head, his gaze both miserable and defiant. �śI’ll tell Hank to get you someone else.” �śWhat?” She was taken aback. Did he think she was firing him? As she asked herself the question, she wondered if maybe she should. The man was obviously a loose cannon, and he had overstepped the line. But deep down, at the very core of who she was, Kayla had to admit that if Paul had overstepped the line, she’d been equally responsible. She’d welcomed the kiss, been yearning for it for days. Just not the raw terror that had followed. �śDon’t worry,” she said, not sure she was doing the right thing. �śYou still have your job.” �śAre you sure?” She nodded. �śAbsolutely. We’ll forget this happened, okay? Take the car and go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Paul wanted to refuse the offer of transportation, to walk away from Kayla with some pride left. He was deeply, monumentally pissed off at himself. He’d never lost control like that; he’d nearly taken the woman standing up, for God’s sake! It had been four years and ten months since he’d had a woman, since before his wife left him. And in the pen, he’d had to make do with the proverbial fallback position of men left alone for too long: his imagination and his own hand. Which made him what he was today�"a supremely frustrated, raging hormonal nightmare, crude and thoughtless, operating on pure animal instinct to mate with the woman whose scent got him where he lived. Wordlessly, he took the keys, got in the car and drove off. If Kayla’s panicked response to Paul’s kiss took a while to completely fade away, her body’s chemical arousal caused by the same act took even longer to recede. Despite the way it had ended, with that deep, primal instinct to fight for her life, the sheer sensuality of the event had left an indelible impression. Even now, as she got ready for bed, humming mindlessly, the memory made her blood heat up. Skin and nerve endings tingled, there was a lingering ache between her legs and at the tips of her breasts. So then, the truth had to be faced: if one part of her had been repelled by the force of Paul’s need, another, purely lustful and womanly part had been most thoroughly turned on by it. She wanted him. Still. Whew, she thought, mixed messages, mixed reactions. Settling into bed, she shook her head in remembered wonder. Never had she had such a strong, elemental, thoroughly sexual reaction. She didn’t have strong sexual reactions. They’d been shut down on that night nearly thirteen years ago when she’d gone out to the senior dance with Jerry Donley and had come back bruised and battered, her virginity and her trust in men�"never high to begin with�"a thing of the past. She’d been willing to kiss, even to neck with the boy she’d had a crush on for months. But he’d wanted more, and when she’d fought him, he’d taken what he wanted, anyway. Sociologists called it date rape; for Kayla it had been more than a cultural definition, it had been the end of a dream. She’d gotten through the aftermath. Alone, of course. Eventually, she’d even gotten past it. Or so she’d told herself. But subsequently she’d chosen men who didn’t set off any fear response in her. There hadn’t been many lovers, but all of them had been gentle and nonaggressive. Passive men, to be honest. It was easier for her that way; she kept control of the situation. Walter, although a successful man and never a passive one, had a low-key personality. And his age had made their lovemaking only occasional and always gentle. Now this�Śthis rutting bull, at the height of his sexual powers, had stormed into her life. And, predictably, his presence brought up some of her old victim fears. But, on top of that, it also made her face the truth, to admit what she’d been hiding from herself all these years. She was a woman. A sexual woman. A sexual woman with needs, needs that during her life had been only mildly satisfied. One savage kiss from Paul Fitzgerald had opened up a whole new world to her, a world of intense passions, intense feelings, both physical and mental. She’d shied away from this part of her all her adult life, told herself she was all right just the way she was. But now she had to admit it had been a lie, a life half lived, as a woman, anyway. Yet, even now, lying in bed with the mere memory of sensuality arousing her, she was of two minds about how to live the rest of her life. Opening up the door to the Pandora’s box of her own sexuality�"how would that affect her? Would she have to relinquish control, be at the mercy of her body’s needs? On a more practical level, unless she was willing to plunge into an affair with Paul�"not a good idea, as he came with so much baggage, so much anger, and was in every sense of the word, way too much for her to take on�"his living on the premises was no longer an option. No, he would not be occupying the �śgrandpa” cabin. In fact, she would need to step back from all but the most necessary dealings with him. No more lunches on the porch, no more lending her car, no more friendliness. Look what it had led to. Decision made, she pounded her pillow into shape, running through a mental checklist as she did: all doors were locked, the exterior lights blazed, Bailey and she were tucked in for the night. She closed her eyes and prepared to sleep. Which was when the silence descended all around her, like a cloak. It had a personality of its own�"dark and heavy and mysterious. Her eyes popped open, and she stared out at the blackness in her bedroom, edgy and wide awake all of a sudden. What would happen on this night? Would she be allowed to sleep? Or would she be woken by more noises, whispers, receive more dead animals�Śor worse? Shivering, she had to admit it�"if Paul were here, she’d feel a lot better. If not necessarily safer. �śI’m sorry, Mrs. Thorne. I’m just so backed up, my crew won’t be able to get up here for at least two weeks.” The restoration contractor smiled apologetically, his perfect white teeth in his perfectly tanned face sparkling in the bright, warm, Indian summer sun. Frowning, she was about to reply when Hank said, �śHell, man, two weeks may be too late. We’re heading into the rainy season.” Hank had appeared about ten o’clock on this Friday morning, Paul’s fifth day on the job, just to �śsee how things’re going,” as he’d put it, concerning his latest protégé. When he’d learned that the �śexpert” from New York City was due at eleven, he’d offered to stay. At first, Kayla had been grateful for his input, but now his obvious resentment at not being trusted with the job was affecting the atmosphere. She put a hand on his arm, squeezed gently, then removed it. �śHank, Mr. Abbott is doing his best, I’m sure.” She turned back to the contractor, surprisingly effeminate, considering the fact that he was in the construction business, which she usually associated with burly men with crude mouths. Old stereotype, she’d chided herself upon meeting him. �śIs there nothing you can do to speed it up?” she asked him. �śMy late husband spoke so highly of you and your work, I wouldn’t want to have to go someplace else.” �śI could do the work myself,” Hank muttered. The contractor slanted an exasperated look at the older man and tried to be gracious. �śI’m sure you could, Mr. Boland. It’s just that Mr. Thorne wanted my firm to do it.” �śBut if it rains soon,” Hank went on doggedly, �śthe church may be in danger of flooding.” �śUnless we temporarily shore up the leak.” This came from Paul, who had kept his mouth shut the entire meeting. As he had all morning, he avoided meeting Kayla’s gaze, and she had done the same. Neither of them seemed willing to acknowledge what had happened between them the night before. They stood now on the north side of the Old Stone Church, the three men and Kayla. The sun was bright, the air moist, and the humidity had brought out swarms of gnats, attracted to skin moisture. Kayla swiped at several as she waited to hear what Abbott would say. The contractor slanted a look at Paul, subtly sized him up and down, then retreated as Paul stared back, his face set in that scary, don’t-mess-with-me manner, the one he’d been wearing when she’d first met him. �śOf course,” Abbott said, all business again. �śGood idea. I can get a man up here to do that, something sturdy but temporary.” He spoke to Kayla again. �śWe’re going to have to dig up the whole foundation, you understand, to block off that underground stream that’s seeping through the cracks. That’s extremely sensitive work, to make sure we don’t harm the rest of the building. We have special machines that have less than normal vibration to them. These old buildings, sometimes all you need is one big oscillation and the walls begin to crack.” �śNot these walls,” Hank said. �śThey’re solid. I’ve checked them out. And you don’t have to bring up one of your �Śmen’ to do the temporary work. I can do it. Been in business twenty years, no complaints yet.” Abbott glanced at him, gave a slight shrug, meaning he wasn’t going to engage in a discussion. �śAs you say.” He turned his attention once again to Kayla. �śIt’s fine with me if Mr. Boland wants to temporarily plug up the leak, lay some scrap lumber in the basement and a tarp on top of it. Just so there’s nothing that will prevent us from getting to the foundation easily when we actually do begin. I’ll try for ten days from now, all right? We’ll start by shoring up the floor from beneath before we start digging. It will take at least a week, a week and a half, to finish.” �śYou mustn’t dig up the bones. No. You mustn’t.” Startled, all four turned in the direction of the voice. Melinda came around from the side of the church, dressed again in black, one scrawny arm reaching out toward Kayla. Following behind her was a sturdy, middle-aged woman with a faded gray-blond braid slung over her shoulder. She tugged at the older woman. �śAunt,” she pleaded in a surprisingly musical voice. �śCome on.” �śMustn’t dig up the bones, isn’t that so? Promise me.” Quickly, furtively the old woman glanced at the three men, then darted her terrifying gaze back to Kayla. �śMustn’t.” Kayla, tamping down the same reaction she’d had to Melinda the first time�"that of feeling creepy-crawly all over�"walked over to the anxious woman. �śHello, Melinda.” When she didn’t answer, Kayla turned to her companion, whom she assumed was the niece. She was dressed in a wrinkled sleeveless blouse, tucked into faded capri pants. On her feet she wore scuffed and dirty tennis shoes. �śHi,” she said, offering her hand. �śI’m Kayla Thorne.” The woman nodded, but used both hands to clutch her aunt’s arm. �śGrace Thomas. I hope my aunt hasn’t bothered you.” Kayla smiled. �śShe just surprised me, that’s all.” �śMustn’t dig up the bones,” Melinda said again, and she stared right into Kayla’s eyes with that same mad intensity that felt as though what she was saying was extremely, profoundly, earth-shakingly urgent. �śBones?” the contractor said. Kayla glanced over her shoulder to where the three men stood, witnessing the exchange. �śApparently we’re on Native American burial ground up here.” �śCome on, Aunt,” Grace said, sounding as if she were singing to a child. She tugged again on Melinda’s arm and led her away. �śWe’re just out for a walk, aren’t we? It’s such a lovely day. Goodbye,” she said to Kayla, then nodded briefly to the men. As they headed off, Melinda stopped in her tracks one more time, looked back, focused her glare on Kayla. �śThe bones of the dead will rise up,” she intoned, then nodded once more and walked away. The old woman’s agitation made her uneasy. Melinda was mentally unbalanced, Kayla told herself, so nothing she said could be given any credence. Still�Ś �śThem two gals give me the willies,” Hank said, giving voice to Kayla’s exact reaction. She rejoined the group, chiding herself for not asking Melinda if she knew anything about the rat. She might not have gotten an answer, anyway; the old woman seemed to be obsessed with bones, not rodents. Abbott wasn’t finished with his concerns. �śAre we going to find bones down there? Native American bones?” �śSurely,” Kayla said, looking to Hank, �śwhen they originally built the church, they would have handled that.” �śNot in those days,” Hank said with a sorry shake of the head. �śThey might have tossed ’em away. Or given ’em to some professor-type for a museum.” Abbott frowned, brushed at the lapel of his soft tweed sports jacket. �śWell, we don’t want to get into that kind of thing. Have the Native American rights folks down on us.” �śHow can they?” Kayla asked. �śThe building is already here, it’s a landmark. It’s been here for more than a century.” �śBut the Native Americans have been here longer, and they’ve gotten a lot more vocal in the last twenty-thirty years. I’ll have to check it out, do some research.” Abbott smiled that extremely white smile of his. �śDon’t worry,” he said reassuringly, �śI’ll take care of the whole thing. That’s what you pay me for. �śWell,” he said, tucking his pad into a slim leather folder and putting it under his arm, �śI’m off now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Thorne. I’ll call you later.” After shaking hands with everyone, Abbott walked over to his hunter-green BMW, slid in, waved and took off. Hank spit on the ground. �śDamned pansy.” Kayla shot him a disapproving look. �śNow, Hank.” He had the grace to look chagrined. �śSorry, Miz Thorne. I know. Old habits die hard. I can be a real pain in the butt sometimes.” Paul spoke up. �śHey, Hank, we can shore up that main leak, if you’d like to do it today.” �śWhy don’t I take care of it? Got everything I need in the truck. You’re busy here.” Paul shrugged. �śWhatever.” The men walked off back to the house, leaving Kayla to stare after them, and wondering if she and Paul would ever exchange a civil word again. Kayla sat on the couch, slippered feet propped on the coffee table, a cup of hot tea in her hand, an old Boz Scaggs album playing in the background, a song about being all alone. It was Friday night. She’d spent one full week at the cabin. A pretty full week, adjusting to being here without Walter. However, in the past couple of days, she’d barely thought of Walter at all; instead, she’d been preoccupied with fantasies of Paul. Closing her eyes, she pictured him as he worked around the property all day, his shirt off, his muscles gleaming with sweat. His thick, hard body, his massive shoulders, his huge hands. His tattoos; she’d seen another, this one a zigzagging line on the back of his neck. Br-r-r-r-ing. The sound of her cell phone made her jump, and she stared at the instrument lying on the side table before picking it up. Hardly anyone ever called her. �śHello?” �śHey, sis, how’s it going?” At the sound of his voice, her stomach knotted up. It was Jay. All her brothers had been monsters, but Jay had been the worst. Teasing her, bullying her, ripping apart her dolls, putting bugs and snakes in her bed. Smacking her sometimes, especially when he’d had too much to drink, which he had started doing pretty regularly by age eleven. �śFine.” Anger filled her, anger at herself as old reactions to him invaded her. She hadn’t seen him in years. Nevertheless she was filled with feelings of being helpless, a victim, a little girl unable to defend herself, having nowhere to turn. �śFine?” he repeated in that slightly nasal tone she’d learned to hate. �śOh, yeah, my sister is so fine. Fine is the word.” She caught the careless lilt in his voice, the small chuckle. He was high. �śHow did you get my number?” �śHey, sis. I got resources.” �śWhat do you want, Jay?” �śNow, is that any way to talk to your big bro?” She made herself sit up straighter, told herself that this visceral reaction to the brother who was one year her senior was old stuff, and she didn’t have to give in to it anymore. She was an adult now. She had her own resources. Jay could no longer affect her life. She considered hanging up on him, but he would just call back. Jay never let go when you could be of some use to him. �śTell me why you’re calling.” �śGlad you asked,” he said with another chuckle. �śSee, I’ve been�Śaway. Out of the country, actually.” �śAnd?” �śAnd not really up on the news, you know. Not really interested in the news.” �śGet to it, Jay.” Her voice was strong, letting him know he was no longer dealing with a cowering child. �śAnd so I get back and, well, imagine my surprise when I find out that my sister, my dear, darling sister, is a widow. A widow with big bucks. The old guy croaked and you’re fixed for life. Just imagine my surprise.” �śAgain, Jay, what do you want?” She could almost see him grinning. �śYou know what I want, Kayla. Just a little taste of all that money you’re rolling in. You can afford to be generous.” �śMaybe I can,” she said evenly, �śbut not to you. We have nothing to say to each other. Goodbye.” She hung up. Her first reaction was elation. She punched her fist in the air. Victory! All her life, she’d avoided confrontation with any of her brothers because she knew, deep in the marrow of her bones, that she could never win. Never. They had all the power. But tonight, she’d had the power. Her elation didn’t last long as reality slammed into her. If there had been any victory, it was purely temporary. Jay wasn’t done with her. His little sister now represented found treasure, and he’d make her life hell until he got what he wanted. She squared her shoulders with determination. She had weapons now. Money. Influence. Power. Even�"as backup muscle�"Paul Fitzgerald would be on her side. Jay didn’t stand a chance. This time it was Bailey’s barking that woke her up. A furious, terrified sound, repeated over and over and over, until the panic in the little dog’s howling reached her consciousness. She sat up in bed abruptly. Bailey? Her gaze darted around the shadowed bedroom. Where was he? The sound came from outside. How had he gotten out? She threw back the covers, ran to the fireplace, grabbed the poker. She didn’t care what was down there, she had to protect Bailey. As she reached the head of the stairs, the barking became a high-pitched yelping, as though he was in pain. Then she heard a thud, followed by whimpering, then silence. �śNo!” she shouted as she dashed down the stairs. All the exterior lights were on, just as she’d left them, but as she headed toward the porch, she noted that the sliding glass door was partly open. Had she locked it or hadn’t she? Was that how Bailey had gotten out? Dashing onto the porch in her bare feet and the old sweats she slept in, she looked all around frantically, but didn’t see the dog. �śBailey?” she called out, but there was no response. She made for the edge of the porch, jumped down the steps and ran along the side of the house, ignoring the sudden stabs of pain caused by stepping on small pebbles and larger stones. When she got to the compost heap, she stopped short and stared, her hand to her throat. There he was, lying on the ground in a heap. Crouching down, she studied her baby, his small form bloody and still. Shaking with the cold and terror, Kayla touched his little body. It was still warm. And he was still breathing! The blood, she could see in the yellow light above the kitchen door, oozed from slashes on his neck and abdomen. Slashes that looked like giant claws had made them. A bear? Could a bear open a sliding glass door? Nurse Kayla, and years of responding coolheadedly in emergencies, took over; she had a patient, one who was going into shock, and she needed to take action. She dashed into the house, snatched up a throw from the back of the couch, dashed back outside and covered him up. Then she returned to the house, took the time only to put on sneakers and a coat and grab her purse, cell phone and car keys. Then she wrapped the tiny dog up in the blanket, got in the car and headed down the mountain, toward Lou’s clinic. She might be too late to save the little Yorkie, but it wouldn’t be for lack of trying. As Paul hiked the last few yards up the driveway, he was wondering what the hell he was doing here. It was Saturday, very early Saturday; the sun was barely up. He wasn’t supposed to be here because he didn’t work on Saturdays. But, despite the long hike up the mountain, he had a lot of energy to burn. Way too much to be good for him. He figured he could perform one of the chores that involved heavy lifting, straining and sweating, anything to ease the pile-driver urge that had twisted his gut for most of the night. He felt like an idiot. Last night, he’d headed into Susanville with Hank. On the prowl. Searching for a bed partner. There had been plenty of those in his past, willing women who were instantly attracted to him and did something about it. Including his ex-wife, who’d hopped into the sack with him two hours after they’d met. So he’d done his damnedest to find a female who liked mindless sex and had no hang-ups about romance. And sure enough, he’d found one�"spiked brunette hair, curvy as hell, and hungry. He’d had a couple of drinks with her. But his thoughts kept returning to Kayla Thorne, and the prospect of a meaningless roll in the sack with a willing body quickly lost its appeal. In the end, he’d decided to deal with his frustration, and went home alone. As he trudged up Kayla’s driveway, he noticed that her Mercedes wasn’t there. Where had she gone so early in the morning? Or had she been out the night before and hadn’t come home yet? Seeing Lou again? He didn’t care for the notion. Feeling possessive, are we? he asked himself. Damned right he was. Something else grabbed his attention: the kitchen door was ajar. And right next to the compost heap, a raccoon stood, licking at something on the ground. As Paul drew closer, the animal scurried away. He got down on his haunches and noticed a dampness in the ground. He took his finger and lightly swept the moisture, then looked at it. Rust-brown. He sniffed it. Blood? Hard to tell. But it was enough to make his heart race. What had happened here? Most important, what had happened to Kayla? Like a shot, he was up and calling her name, getting no answer. He tore through the house, the entire two floors, searching, calling. But no Kayla. And no Bailey, he realized. Had they been kidnapped? The car stolen? Was that blood on the ground, and if so, whose? Who could he call to find out? His ears pricked up at a new sound. A car engine. Coming up the driveway. He tore down the stairs and headed out the kitchen door in time to see Kayla’s Mercedes pull to a stop. He bounded out the door and ran to the car. Before she’d even turned the engine off, he’d grabbed the driver’s side door handle and yanked it open. Startled, Kayla looked at him. �śOh, Paul. You scared me.” He helped her out, held her by the upper arms and stared at her. She looked like hell. �śAre you all right?” She was still gazing at him, confused. �śWhat are you doing here?” �śI was going to finish up some work. Tell me.” He tightened his hold on her arms. �śAre you okay? What happened?” �śYou’re hurting me.” He dropped his hands. The adrenaline had made him handle her more roughly than he’d intended. �śSorry. Tell me.” She wiped a hand over her tired face. �śI don’t know. Bailey’s barking woke me up. The glass doors to the porch were open. He was lying on the ground, all bloody. I took him in to the vet. I’m�Śnot sure if he’ll make it.” Moisture glistened in her eyes. �śPoor little thing, he looked so helpless.” With that, she brought both hands to her face, sagged against the car and began to sob. Without thinking, Paul pulled her into his arms; as gently as he could he urged her head onto his chest. With little persuading, she sobbed into his shirt, her slender body shaking with exhaustion and fear. He stroked her back, her hair, murmured soothing words. Damn but she felt good in his arms, so right. He gave himself over to a feeling of tenderness he didn’t remember as ever being a part of his makeup before. After a while, when her crying eased up some, he asked, �śWho did it?” �śI don’t know,” she sniffed into his sweatshirt. �śI honestly don’t know.” With a sigh, she pulled away from him, offered a watery grin. �śThanks for the shoulder.” He nodded but wasn’t through yet. �śWhat caused Bailey’s injury?” �śIt could have been a bear, Lou said.” Kayla leaned into the car, retrieved her purse and pulled out some tissues. She mopped at the tears on her cheeks. �śLou?” �śMy vet. She’s the best, bless her.” �śHer?” �śYes.” A huge sense of relief poured through him. The �śLou” she’d met the other night was a woman. As Kayla had said, a friend. �śAnd Lou said it was a bear?” �śShe wasn’t sure. It could have been a knife.” He didn’t like hearing that one. �śWhich indicates a human was involved. Whatever it is, it’s escalating. Any ideas? Anyone you can think of who means you harm?” �śNot like this.” �śMelinda? Steven? Someone I don’t know about?” She paused, seemed to be thinking. �śI suppose it could have been�Ś” She shook her head. �śNo, never mind.” �śCould have been who?” She heaved a sigh. �śI told you I hate to talk about my family, but well, one of my brothers, he’s�Ś” As Kayla’s sentence trailed off, the hair on the back of Paul’s neck bristled. �śWhat about him?” �śHe’s a pretty bad character. He called me last night.” �śHe called you?” She nodded, �śYes. On my cell phone. And, well, he said stuff about wanting some of the money I’ve inherited. You know, cash in on a good thing. He’s scum, trust me.” �śI do.” She had no idea how much. �śJay, he’s always been the worst of the lot.” �śJay,” he repeated, but he’d known the name before she’d said it. Amazing, he thought with a detached part of his brain. He’d thought he’d hit a dead end, but an opening had been found. �śYes, my brother Jay.” �śHe called you?” He was aware he was repeating everything she said, but he wasn’t sure just how to proceed. �śYes. I don’t know how he got the number. I’m unlisted.” �śIt’s not hard to do, if you have the right contacts.” �śHe kind of hinted at that. Anyhow, it might have been him who hurt Bailey. Jay can get�Śpretty mean.” Paul was experiencing a whole smorgasbord of reactions: elation at being one step further in accomplishing his mission; rage at the piece of dirt who’d caused his downfall�"and had probably hurt a defenseless dog�"and a niggling sense of guilt at leading an innocent Kayla into helping him even more, while keeping her in the dark about his knowledge of her brother and Paul’s original reason for seeking her out. �śThis brother, where was he when he called?” �śI have no idea.” �śI mean, do you think he’s nearby? Close enough so that he could come up in the middle of the night, cause what happened?” She shook her head. �śI really don’t know. I don’t know much of anything about Jay, to tell you the truth. I haven’t seen him in years.” �śWe’ll track him down, find out where he is.” �śDo we have to?” �śIf he’s behind all the attacks on you, I’d say it’s a priority. I’ll call my friend Brian�"he’s on the force in Albany, get him on it. With cell phones, they can get a fix on where a call originated.” �śOh, yes. Of course.” �śAnd you said the porch doors were open. Were they forced?” �śOh, Paul, I have no idea.” She swiped a hand over her eyes. �śI’m sorry. Here I am, asking you all these questions. You look exhausted.” She offered a sleepy smile. �śI am.” Mind racing, he took her hand, closed the car door and led her into the house and up the stairs. �śWhat did Lou think Bailey’s chances were of getting better?” �śShe couldn’t say. But she insisted I come home and get some sleep. She’ll call me if there’s any change.” As though all her energy had suddenly given out, she sagged against him, so he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into her bedroom. Once there, he sat her at the edge of the bed and removed her shoes. Gently, he eased her down so she was prone, then pulled the blanket up to just under her chin. He stood back up and stared down at her. Her eyes were nearly closed, but she managed a sleepy smile. �śThank you, Paul. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.” The look on her face was relaxed and full of trust. She closed her eyes, and in a moment he could see by her even, shallow breathing that she was asleep. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her, watching her as she slept. He felt a stirring in the region of his heart, which perfectly complemented the way his gut was churning at his deceit. He should be rejoicing; he was finally on the trail of Jay Vinovich-Goodall. In the next few days, Paul was sure, he’d be able to find the son of a bitch and complete his goal, the one he’d set in motion by coming here to work for Kayla. What he was thinking about instead was something that gave him no joy whatsoever. He was starting to care about Kayla Thorne. To care about her a whole hell of a lot. God help him. Chapter 7 By the time Kayla woke up, the sun’s rays shining in her window indicated that it was nearly noon. The enticing aroma of fresh coffee hit her nostrils. Still half asleep, still dressed in her sweats and thick socks, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen and poured herself a cup. Through half-closed eyelids, which she was still reluctant to open all the way, she gazed absently around the kitchen. Her eyes stopped when they reached the small tiled windowsill that overlooked the garden. On the ledge stood an old tin can with a single flower in it. A weed, really, but the bloom’s color was a vivid yellow, reminding her of the happy hues of summer. Not quite knowing what to make of this apparition, she continued to stare at it. Like that, it came back to her, all of it. The noise in the middle of the night, the furious barking, then the sudden cessation of sound. Bailey’s bloodied little body. The frenzied trip down the mountain. Lou, Kayla thought. She needed to call Lou, see how the little dog was doing. She frowned. No, Lou had said she would call if there was news. The phone in her bedroom hadn’t rung, so no news meant good news, right? Again, she found her attention drawn to the flower. Who could have left it? But as soon as the question was half formed in her mind, the answer came. Paul. Paul, who had been here this morning, waiting for her when she’d managed to get herself back up the mountain. Who had let her cry on him and had offered comfort. Who had helped her into bed, had covered her and had stayed until she fell asleep. And who had left her a flower. Oh, my God, Kayla thought, her eyes brimming with sudden, totally unexpected tears. What a sweet gesture. To make her coffee and to put a flower in a tin. Acts of kindness. Nice, normal things for her to see and taste when she woke up, to block out the previous night’s horror. Carrying her coffee cup with her, she stepped out into the sunshine and looked around. No Paul in sight. She walked around to the other side of the house and there he was, chopping wood. He’d mentioned it to her the other day, that there didn’t seem to be a lot of wood in the stockpile, and the house didn’t have any central heating. She had told him that since Walter’s death, it hadn’t even occurred to her to arrange for a wood delivery. She’d intended to get some boy from the village to chop some for her. But now, here Paul was, taking care of it for her. He didn’t see her at first, so she took a moment to just stand and stare at him. A little voyeurism couldn’t hurt, and she did so like the picture he made. The sun was going in and out of the clouds, and the air was brisk with an autumn wind, but he had his shirt off as he worked. Ah, what a sight it was. Sudden saliva flooded her mouth and she had to swallow it down. As Paul chopped, his rhythm even and sure, his bronze skin gleamed, and she watched as his beautifully defined muscles expanded and relaxed, expanded and relaxed, each sinew pulsing with vitality. His jeans fit him tightly, molding the sturdy muscles of his thighs and calves. All in all, he was a marvel to watch; not a movement wasted, each stroke of the ax strong and competent. This was a man completely comfortable with his body and its physicality, and that insight set up a small yearning sensation in the pit of Kayla’s stomach. The kiss they’d shared�"was it only the night before last?�"came back to her with a rush. The craving, the tightening of her inner muscles, the sensitivity of her nerve endings. It was all there. �śPaul?” He turned as though startled. There was a funny look on his face�"guilt?�"but in the next instant, it was gone. Had she imagined it? He nodded, walked toward her, stopped, then set the side of the ax blade down on the ground and held it there, one hand on top of the handle. It was a pose, although she was sure it was unintentional and only a product of her fevered brain. The Brawny man or Paul Bunyon, without the plaid shirt. A beef-cake-calendar model, with jeans instead of a jock strap. More saliva in her mouth, more swallowing. Now that he was closer, she could see the individual sweat droplets as they meandered over his taut chest muscles, the thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead and around his thick neck. Why was sweat so sexy? she wondered, then ordered her errant imagination to shape up. �śHow are you?” he asked her. �śBetter, thanks. Did you leave the flower for me?” Silly question�"who else would have done it? But she watched as his mouth curved down in that belligerent expression men got when they were told it was good to encourage their �śfeminine” side. His nonverbal answer was a shrug. Which she took as assent. �śIt was very sweet of you.” Now he winced. He did not like that word. But that was what he was. Sweet. Inside, at least. Beneath all the rage and toughness and bitterness, there resided a good soul, a decent man. �śReally, it was a lovely thing to do,” she said warmly, teasing him now, making him squirm a little. If he hated sweet, then lovely would make him gag. �śI called my cop friend, Brian,” he said abruptly, successfully changing the subject and slamming her right back into reality. �śGot him working on tracing Jay’s call.” �śOh. Well, good.” �śAnd I checked the porch doors. There were no marks�"they weren’t forced. Are you sure you closed them before you went to bed?” �śYes. I was on guard, remember, from the rat. No, I’m sure I bolted them both.” �śWhich means they could only be opened from the inside. Whoever got in did it through a window or one of the doors.” A familiar sensation of fear skittered down her spine. Someone had been inside her house while she slept. �śBut the windows were closed and locked.” �śAnyone else have a key to this place?” �śSteven’s family. No one else that I know of.” �śWell, we need to check that out. Oh, and your vet called.” �śShe did? I didn’t hear the phone.” �śI turned it off in your bedroom.” �śOh.” �śSorry. I shouldn’t have.” �śNo, no, it’s all right. What did she say?” �śBailey’s going to make it.” �śOh.” A wave of pure relief swept over her. �śThat’s wonderful!” Without thinking, Kayla grabbed his free hand and squeezed it. He looked startled, glanced down at their joined hands and promptly pulled his loose. In fact, he took a couple of steps back, his mouth set in a thin, disapproving line. His rejection of her touch was thorough, and she got the message. She felt her face flush with embarrassment. She was way too needy. Her nature�"despite, or maybe because, of her childhood�"was to be physically friendly with people she liked, and she’d been without affection, of the physical sort, since Walter’s death. �śShe also said,” Paul added, all business, �śthat she’s pretty sure the wounds were made by a knife�"the edges were too clean to have been made by bear claws.” This hit her hard. All of a sudden, she was dealing with reality again, the threatening kind. She shook her head. �śI so did not want to hear that.” �śYeah, well. She wanted to know who I was, answering your phone like that. I told her I was the handyman, but I’m not sure she believed me. Better give her a call.” �śYes.” �śAnd I think you need to call the police again.” �śWe did that last night, called the Susanville sheriff. After I filled Lou in on the other incidents, she was not happy I hadn’t told her about them. She’s kind of protective of me, a mama-bear type.” �śGood. What did the sheriff say?” �śThat he’d pass on the information to the state police. He also said they’re stretched pretty thin, and that a dog’s injury isn’t enough to open a new investigation. They reserve their manpower for injuries to humans.” He grimaced. �śYeah, that sounds about right, unfortunately. When I was on the force, we had to handle this kind of thing all the time. People can be cruel to animals and never have to pay for it. It’s just that we need to deal with what’s happening here before it escalates into doing a human some harm.” �śBy �Śa human,’ you mean me, don’t you?” He didn’t answer her question directly, instead said firmly, �śYou can’t stay here alone anymore. If the offer is still open, I’ll take you up on it. I’ll bunk down in the cabin.” He said this without much enthusiasm, as though he’d been backed against a wall and had no choice. She wasn’t a charity case, she thought with a brief flare of indignation. If she needed protection, she could hire it, darn it. Besides, hadn’t she already decided he wouldn’t be staying in the cabin? Now, why was that? It was all a muddle. Oh, yes. The kiss. Which came back to her in full, blazing color, including the panoply of sensations she’d felt. All the fire, the mutual need, the intensity. Her fear, his withdrawal. What she was reliving must have shown on her face because Paul added quickly, �śI’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.” �śOh, no,” she protested, �śI wasn’t thinking of�Ś” But of course she had been. Just not in the entirely negative way he’d assumed. �śI accept,” she surprised herself by saying. �śAnd thank you.” He nodded. Still, he seemed unhappy about something. �śHey, if you don’t really want to stay�"” she began. �śNo, no, it’s not that.” �śThen just what is it?” She could swear he was on the verge of answering her. For sure, there was something Paul was keeping to himself. But then he shook his head. �śNah. Nothing. Forget it.” �śWhat?” �śI said nothing,” he snapped, then made a disgusted face. �śDammit. I’m sorry.” Again without thinking, she stepped closer to him and reached for his arm. �śYou really do have a lot of moods, don’t you, Paul?” As soon as her hand touched the hard flesh of his arm, he shocked her by grabbing it and the other one and bringing them around to the back of his waist. Then he took her face in his huge hands, gazing at her with a look of such stark yearning that her knees nearly buckled. Holding her gently, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. With tenderness this time. She could feel him quivering ever so slightly with the effort he was making not to overwhelm or upset her. Bless him, she thought, eagerly opening her mouth to receive his kiss, running her hands up and down his sweat-slicked back. In no time at all, she was breathing rapidly. She felt her nipples harden against his chest, savored his hard sex pressing against her. �śKayla, Kayla,” he groaned, then changed the angle of her head for better penetration. This time there was no panicked reaction, no terror, maybe because she knew about Paul’s inner sweetness, or that he’d been here for her this morning, or that he seemed to genuinely care about Bailey and her. Whatever the reason, there was no barrier now to letting him touch her, wherever and however he wanted to. And to her touching him back. As though he’d heard a silent signal, Paul moved one hand down her face, stroked it along the column of her neck, then lowered it to cup one of her breasts. She wore no bra�"there hadn’t been time to change yet�"so his thumb abrading its tip through the material made her groan loudly. Grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt, he pulled it over her head, then bent to take one of her aching nipples in his mouth, rubbing his thumb over the other, as though to soothe it, to assure it that he would be taking care of both of them. �śOh, Paul.” Her breath hitched in her throat and she arched her back; she could barely stand. He held her firmly, didn’t let her fall. Then he reached his hand into the waistline of her sweatpants, and soon one finger was rubbing her most sensitive spot and Kayla was squirming beneath his touch. As though in a dream, somewhere in the distance, she could hear a sound. Not an animal. Some kind of machine. �śPaul.” �śHmm.” �śWhat you’re doing�Ś?” �śYou want me to stop?” �śGod, no.” Heat was rising in her, muscles were vibrating; it was all too much. They’d been touching each other for less than a minute, and here she was, practically on the verge of climaxing. Suddenly her brain went on alert. The sound. It was a car. Coming up her driveway. As one, she and Paul pulled apart, like lovers in a stage play who hear the husband’s key turning in the lock. Keeping her back to the driveway, Kayla pulled on her sweatshirt and adjusted her clothing, relieved she didn’t have to deal with fastening a bra. Then she knelt down in front of her garden, pretending to examine a plant. Which was pretty silly, as there wasn’t a green shoot to be seen. Autumn, the time of dormancy. The car stopped. Doors opened. �śKayla?” She recognized the voice of Terri, who was married to Walter’s younger son, Joe. Kayla straightened up. She was still breathing pretty hard, and knew her cheeks were red as beets. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so she turned toward the sound and waved. She liked Terri, even liked Joe, who was more even-tempered and seemingly less resentful of her than his older brother. She watched as Sally and Erica, Joe and Terri’s two children, scrambled out of the car. Erica carried a small pink box with a ribbon on it as both of them ran up to Kayla and gave her big hugs, which she returned with enthusiasm. She loved the kids, and was grateful that at least one of Walter’s sons hadn’t turned his family against her. �śThis is for you,” Erica said, handing Kayla the package. �śHow sweet of you.” �śFor your birthday,” Sally added. Kayla rubbed at the five-year-old’s brown curls. �śGot a new haircut, I see. I like it.” Then she turned to Erica, whose huge grin split her freckled face in two. �śOh, dear,” she said in mock horror. �śSomebody’s gone and stolen your front teeth.” The sisters giggled, then went dashing off after a squirrel who had descended a tree, seen all the human beings in the area and had headed right back up the tree again. It was Terri’s turn to greet Kayla next. She hugged her stepmother-in-law, who hugged her back; but it was obvious that Terri seemed distracted by the sight of Paul, who stood off to the side, his arms at his sides. She eyed him with not a little curiosity before saying to Kayla, �śWe thought we’d surprise you for your birthday.” �śSo I see.” What had they witnessed as they’d come up the driveway? Kayla wondered. She hoped it wasn’t too much. She thought of saying something, tossing off some light comment about what they thought they had seen and what had actually been going on. A lie, in other words. No. She had nothing to apologize for�"it was her life and she’d broken no rules. Joe joined the group next, leaving Steven leaning against the car. �śHey, Kayla,” Joe said, nodding. He was smaller than Steven, and brown-haired. She kissed him on the cheek. �śGood to see you,” she said, then turned and looked at his older brother. He continued to keep himself separate, standing apart from both her and his brother’s family, his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile on his face. And not a word from him. If that’s how he wanted to play it, fine with her. She didn’t acknowledge him. Turning to the others, she said, �śJoe, Terri, Sally and Erica, I’d like you to meet Paul Fitzgerald. He’s doing some work for me here at the cabin.” �śIs that what we just saw? Work?” This came from Joe. His tone was mildly amused, but there was an undercurrent of condemnation in it. �śJoe, hush,” Terri said. Kayla felt her cheeks warming even more. So they had seen Paul and her embracing, a rather tame word for what they must have witnessed. Instead of answering Joe’s question, she said, keeping her tone even, �śI wasn’t expecting you.” Terri winced. �śWe should have called, I know. I hate surprise visits. But then, it sounded like such fun to give you your present in person, instead of sending it. It was Steven’s idea, as a matter of fact.” �śSteven?” Kayla said, surprised. The man in question finally decided to occupy the same planet. He walked over to them, that same self-satisfied smile firmly in place. �śYes. It was my idea. Surely we don’t need permission to come to the family cabin, do we?” �śNo, of course you don’t need it, Steven,” she said, continuing to keep her tone level and nonconfrontational. �śWalter’s family is always welcome here. But, as we discussed the other day, surprise visits are another thing altogether.” She shrugged. �śI might not have been here.” �śOr you might have been otherwise engaged,” Steven sneered suggestively, then turned to his brother. �śSee what I mean, Joe?” Joe put a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder. �śCome on, Steve. I said we’d come if you promised we wouldn’t get into a fight.” Steven’s words resonated in Kayla’s head. See what I mean, Joe? he’d said, probably referring to Paul and her. So, there was another agenda going on here, not a harmless, pre-birthday family visit. She should have known. She decided to hold her tongue. �śThere’s some coffee, if you’d like, and I think I can find a cookie or two.” The children jumped up and down. �śYes! Cookies! Did you bake them, Kayla?” She smiled at the girls. They were darlings and had been big fans of her occasional baking binges. �śI haven’t had time. But I promise I will. Soon.” Paul kept his face impassive as he witnessed the little family interactions going on, but he wanted to wring Steven’s neck. Five against one, not fair, even if four of them seemed congenial enough. Although he doubted that. Their animosity toward a young-wife-turned-widow was just better hidden, that was all. Still, Kayla seemed to be handling it okay. She wasn’t cowed, that was for sure. And she wasn’t about to make excuses or ask forgiveness for what they’d seen, for which he admired her, and which made him feel a little better. So he held his tongue, just stayed in the vicinity, in case she needed him. Even though the last time Steven had been here, she’d taken his head off for interfering. Good old Steven wasn’t finished. �śDoes the �Śhandyman’ work on Saturdays, too?” he asked contemptuously. �śYou’re certainly keeping him busy, aren’t you?” The innuendo was hard to ignore and Paul took a step toward him, his fists clenched. �śThis is not your business, Steven,” Kayla said firmly, shooting Paul a look of warning. �śI don’t question your private life and I expect the same courtesy.” �śYou expect courtesy? After marrying an old man for his money and then making him change his will in your favor?” Joe tried to interrupt. �śHey, Steve, come on. Cut it out.” Kayla crossed her arms over her chest, her lower jaw jutting out. �śLet me say this again. And it will be the last time I say it. To all of you. I loved Walter Thorne. I married him because he begged me to. I didn’t want his money, I wanted his affection. He treated me well, cared for me. I made him happy. He was good to me and I was good to him.” �śYou were so good to him, he cut us out of his will.” �śHe didn’t cut you out, Steven. Try to get that through your paranoid head. He insisted on making me one of the beneficiaries, that’s all. Insisted, over my protests, on making sure I was taken care of after he was gone. He was a generous man.” �śAnd you took advantage of that.” She threw her hands up in the air. �śYou know what? You’re a broken record and I’m tired of it. If you persist in seeing me as some kind of gold digger, then there’s nothing I can say to defend myself. I won’t defend myself. I’m done with it.” Pointedly ignoring Steven, she turned toward Joe and his family, all of whom were shifting uncomfortably at the confrontation they’d witnessed. �śNow, if you’d like to come in for coffee and a nice visit, great. Terri? Joe?” Terri looked miserable. Joe glanced at his brother, then back at Kayla, shaking his head. �śSorry, Kayla. We’d better get going.” Terri added quickly, �śI was a fool to listen to them, Kayla. It sounded like so much fun. Next time we’ll call, I promise.” Her smile was sheepish. �śIf you’ll let there be a next time.” �śOf course there will.” Kayla was being way too gracious to these lowlifes, as far as Paul was concerned. The girls were jumping up and down, trying to get someone’s attention. �śBut Kayla hasn’t opened her present yet,” Erica said, to which Sally added, �śAnd she said we can have cookies.” Kayla put her free arm around Sally’s small shoulder and ushered the girls toward the house. �śCome into the kitchen, you two, and I’ll wrap up some nice cookies for your trip back home.” �śI’ll come, too,” Terri said, following Kayla and her daughters. Leaving Paul with the two brothers. Steven continued to glare at him. The younger one seemed more curious than hostile. Again Paul reminded himself that that didn’t mean Joe was any better than the other, just able to mask it more successfully. He didn’t feel like talking to either of them, so he picked up the ax, turned his back on them and went back to chopping wood. As he did, he was aware that two pairs of eyes were studying him, sizing him up. Tough. He owed them nothing. If they wanted to say something to him, that was up to them. He placed a chunk of wood on the chopping post, swung the ax in a high arc and brought it down with a hard crack! The sound filled the silence. Another swing of the ax. Crack! More silence, interrupted by a bird chattering in a far-off tree. One more swing of the ax. Crack! �śPaul Fitzgerald. That your full name?” Steven’s question came from behind him, but Paul didn’t bother turning around or answering him. �śHow long have you known Kayla?” Steven persisted. �śWhat business is that of yours?” Crack! But then he got it. The little twerp intended to sic one of his high-priced detectives on him, which meant his background would be revealed. He also wanted to try to set up some kind of long-term affair going on during his father’s marriage. Negative evidence for his lawsuit. Fuel for his rage at the interloper. He swung the ax so its blade was buried in the post. Fingers shoved into his back pockets, he turned and stared the man in the face. �śA few days.” �śReally?” �śYes.” �śCan you prove it?” He could have done so, of course. There was no way he could have had an affair with Kayla Thorne during her marriage to Walter Thorne, as he’d spent the entire time behind bars. Alibis didn’t get much tighter than that, he thought, aware of the irony but not even mildly amused. But Steven would be finding that out in a day or so, anyway, which was a shame, because Paul’s record might actually give Steven’s paranoia some legitimacy. Still, there was no way Paul would make it any easier on him. �śAnd just why would I want to prove that?” Joe, the pacifier once again, said, �śHey, Steve, leave the guy alone.” He shot his brother a quelling look. �śHe practically had her down on the ground.” Through a jaw clenched in repressed fury, Paul said, �śAnd your point is?” �śSteve.” Joe again. His brother whirled on him. �śDon’t you get it, Joe? The two of them probably planned the whole thing.” Joe was shaking his head, trying to pacify his brother. �śSteve, you’ve got to stop this. You have no proof.” �śYou got that right.” Paul took a step toward Steven. He had several inches and at least fifty pounds on him, and he shot the other man a look that would have quelled any sane human being. But he had a feeling Steven wasn’t entirely sane, which was supported by the fact that, despite Paul’s obvious physical advantage, he came back with, �śIt is my business when a handyman hooks himself up with a wealthy woman. My father’s wealth, I might add.” He pointed his index finger in Paul’s face. �śI’ll be checking up on you. Has she given you money yet? Is that why you’re here, �Śworking’ on Saturday?” Paul saw red. He took the final step that brought him so close there was no space left between the two men. He grabbed Steven’s finger and shoved the other man’s hand away from his face. What he wanted to do, was itching to do, was to twist his finger till it broke. Better yet, to wrap his fingers around this prick’s neck. �śListen, you worthless piece of�"” �śPaul!” The voice that interrupted him was Kayla’s. It stopped him in midsentence. He made no move on Steven, but he didn’t step back, either. Kayla rushed toward them, her stepdaughter-in-law and the two children trailing after her. As she approached the three men, she was shaking her head. �śI will not have this, not on my property! Steven, please leave. Now. If you don’t, I’ll get a restraining order.” �śYou can’t get a restraining order to keep a man away from his own property.” �śMaybe not, but I can sure get one to keep you away from me!” She stormed over to the large SUV they’d arrived in, pulled open the passenger doors and waited there, her arms crossed over her chest. The woman meant business. Terri was the first to move, herding the two girls in front of her, then settling them in the back seat before taking her place between them. Whatever she said to Kayla, Paul couldn’t hear because he was still keeping an eye on Steven. Joe was the next to approach the car, where he got into the driver’s seat. The last to walk over was Steven. He was still radiating anger and resentment, but either Paul’s threatening presence had finally worked or he’d decided nothing else could be accomplished today. Wordlessly, his mouth tight with repressed fury, he got into the passenger seat, closed the door and stared straight ahead. As Joe backed the car down the driveway, Kayla waved to the girls and watched as the SUV disappeared around the curve that led out to the main road. When they were gone from sight, she stayed there a moment longer, then turned back and headed for Paul, who was waiting for her. As she approached him, he held up a hand, palm out. �śBefore you bite my head off, I got it. No violence allowed.” �śRight.” �śBut you didn’t hear him, Kayla. Now that he knows my name, he’ll be checking me out.” �śI have no doubt he will. And if you’d laid a hand on him, you’d be in cuffs and back in jail by nightfall. You don’t want to mess around with him, Paul. He has clout, just like his father had. Walter was an ex state senator, the family’s been powerful for decades. Whatever you do, don’t let Steven provoke you. It’s how he operates, getting people riled up, and it gets him his way.” She stood a little taller, brought her shoulders back. �śNot this time, though.” �śDamn straight. You were great.” She gave a mirthless laugh. �śFor the moment, anyway.” As though all the fight had suddenly gone out of her, her shoulders sagged and she rubbed a hand over her face. �śAre you okay?” Paul asked her. �śI hate what just happened. Walter would have hated it, too. He was so good himself, and he wanted all of us to get along.” Not for the first time, Paul was irritated at hearing Walter Thorne spoken of as if he walked on water. Every time Kayla referred to him, she got this look on her face�"adoration, admiration. Like the guy had been right up there with Gandhi and JFK. �śFor all of you to get along,” Paul said sourly, �śSteven would have to have a lobotomy.” His wry comment had the desired effect. The worry lines disappeared and Kayla broke into a wide grin. �śSounds like a plan to me.” Good, she was back, in the present, with him. And now, where were we? He didn’t say it, but he wanted to. He would toss the words off, easily, casually. Get her to remember that right before their unexpected and unwelcome visitors, he and Kayla had been about to do what he’d been wanting to do since he’d first laid eyes on her�"get her naked and sink into her, as deeply as he could. It seemed to him that she’d not only been willing, but eager, to let that happen. The arrival of the Thorne family had jettisoned that little plan, but not the effect on his body. He’d ached for several frustrated moments afterward. Right now, he wouldn’t mind aching some more. The relief would feel so good. But he could see from the expression on Kayla’s face that, for her at least, the moment had passed into history. Damn. �śI’m going inside to call Lou, see what’s up with Bailey,” Kayla announced. �śAnd I’m also going to fix something to eat.” She didn’t say �śCan I fix you anything?” Or �śCare to join me?” Disappointment flooding him, he watched as she walked into the house. �śI’ll finish up the wood before I leave,” he called after her. �śThanks,” she said, her back to him, the direction of her thoughts obviously the polar opposite of his. Damn. One more time. Chapter 8 Kayla breezed out of the house, purse and keys in hand, and walked briskly toward the car. �śPaul?” She waited while he stacked the last piece of wood, then glanced at her. �śYes?” �śI’m going into Susanville to check up on Bailey.” �śOkay.” She stopped, had a thought, then turned toward him. �śWhy don’t I drop you at Hank’s so you can get your things? I can pick you up on your way back.” He frowned. �śOh.” �śUnless you’ve changed your mind?” �śNo. But are you sure you still want me to move in?” �śWhy wouldn’t I?” Narrowing his eyes, he studied her for a moment before nodding slowly. �śSo it’s going to be like this, huh? We’re not going to talk about it�"what happened before your visitors came.” �śOh.” �śYeah. �ŚOh.’” She lowered her head and studied the nails on her free hand. She felt all squirmy inside. She really didn’t want to deal with this, not now, not before she had a chance to put it in perspective. There had been so much heat between them, and she’d felt so out of control. She wasn’t sure she liked the feeling. And then the Thornes had descended, Steven spitting out venom, making everyone uncomfortable. It was all too much�"the kiss and Steven and the rat and poor Bailey. All she wanted was to pull a Scarlett O’Hara and think about it tomorrow. Sighing, she lowered her hand, looked up and met his hard, challenging gaze. �śI’m sorry, Paul. Can we kind of, well, discuss it later?” Something flickered in his eyes�"disappointment? hurt?�"before he answered her. �śHey, you know what? We don’t have to discuss it at all.” Oh, no. She had hurt his feelings. �śPaul, I didn’t mean to�"” She walked toward him, reached out a hand to touch him. �śI mean, I really need to see how Bailey is, and�"” He held up a hand, signaling that she could stop her tap-dancing. �śForget it, okay? You can drop me off at Hank’s and I’ll get my stuff.” Her arm fell to her side. She could pursue the discussion, try to let him know of her confusion. Instead, she took the coward’s way out. �śOkay. Well, then. Good.” He reached for his shirt. She watched him briefly, then quickly turned her attention to the sky, afraid that it might appear she was ogling him. Which she seemed to do on a regular basis. Were those clouds up there rain clouds? Her attention was diverted by the sound of an engine. She looked past her car to see a large brown delivery truck coming toward her. She watched as the vehicle pulled up and stopped. The UPS driver hopped out, reached into his truck and brought out a large package. �śKayla Thorne?” he asked her. She walked toward him. �śYes?” �śSign here, please.” She did, curious as to what the package could contain. She hadn’t ordered anything from a catalog, and her lawyer always sent legal documents by the firm’s courier. After she finished signing, the driver handed the package to her. It was as high as it was wide, only it wasn’t at all heavy. As the driver got into his truck and then backed out, she glanced over at Paul, who stood near the woodpile, his shirt half buttoned, watching her. She smiled. �śI have no idea what this is.” She shook the package, but there was no rattling, just a small thud. �śAs you heard, it’s my birthday next week. I’ll be thirty, so I suppose this could be some kind of present. Although I can’t imagine who it would be from.” She’d already received something, now lying unopened on the kitchen counter, from Joe’s family. She was thoroughly estranged from her own; the one aunt she’d kept in touch with had died two years ago. She had no childhood friends, as the family had rarely stayed in one place long enough for her to make lasting connections. And the few acquaintances she’d made in Albany were just that, acquaintances. Walter had been the only real friend she’d had. �śUnless Walter left instructions,” she said, still thinking out loud. �śIt would have been just like him. He was the kindest man.” Paul watched Kayla playing with the package, for some reason not ripping it open, the way most people would. And at the mention of the late Walter Thorne, he was aware of that familiar twist of jealousy in his gut. He hated that he was so susceptible to that ugly emotion, but he hated even more the thought that another man�"even from the grave�"might still have this kind of effect on her. �śI’m being silly,” she mused aloud again. �śOf course it’s not from Walter. He would have had to know he was going to die to arrange a posthumous gift.” She sighed. �śWishful thinking on my part, I guess.” Again, she shook the package, then directed a happy grin at Paul. �śWhat do you think? Should I wait till my birthday to open it?” The look on her face got to him. She was like a kid, a happy kid at her first Christmas. He had to wonder just how many times she’d been given anything that made her smile with excited anticipation. �śHey, go for it,” he told her, his previous annoyance with her now history. �śYou deserve a present.” She wrinkled her nose. �śThink so?” �śI know so.” She grinned again. �śWell, if you say so�Ś” He watched as she set the package down on the hood of her car, then ripped open the outer wrapping. Inside there was a smaller package, the name of a famous, upscale shoe designer written across the top in large script. �śShoes?” she said. �śI don’t remember ordering any shoes.” Women and their shoes, Paul thought, turning away and heading for the rear of the house. He needed to grab his backpack, which was lying on the porch. �śOh, God, no!” Her cry of fear set up a flutter of bird wings out of the trees and made Paul stop dead in his tracks. Reversing direction, he sprinted over to her, just in time to see her clamp her hands over her mouth, her gaze directed at a snake as it slid over the side of the box, now overturned on the ground. It was black, no markings that he could see, but he wasn’t close enough to really discern them if they existed. �śStay still!” he yelled, heading for the woodpile and the ax. But by the time he got back to Kayla, he was too late. The snake, moving like lightning, had slithered off toward the house and was just disappearing underneath. Kayla was shaking so hard he half expected to hear her teeth clattering. Leaning the ax against the car, he pulled her to him, held her tightly, rubbing her arms up and down and saying whatever words of comfort came to him. �śSettle down, now. It’s gone. It’s okay.” The rescuer, he thought with irony. Again. It seemed to be his role where Kayla Thorne was concerned. �śTake a deep breath,” he told her, trying to soothe her terror even as he silently cursed the creep who had sent the thing. Steven Thorne? Her brother Jay? To her credit, she tried. She inhaled deeply, exhaled. �śAgain,” he told her, and she did as instructed. Her shaking abated slightly, and he continued to rub his palms over her back, kneading the tightness there as best he could. His gaze lit on the shoe box that had contained the snake. There were air holes punched in it, but she must not have noticed them before opening it. Who the hell would send a snake by courier? And how had it been done? �śDid you get a good look at it?” When she nodded against his chest he went on. �śWere you able to see its markings?” She nodded again but couldn’t seem to get any words out. �śCome on,” Paul said, �ślet’s go inside, get you a glass of water.” �śIn-inside? No,” she managed to gasp. Lifting her head from the protection of his chest, she pointed a quivering finger toward where the snake had disappeared. �śIt’ll stay underneath the house,” he told her. �śTrust me, it’s more scared of us than we are of him.” She shook her head. �śNot p-p-possible.” �śOkay, then.” He took her keys, which she had set down on the hood next to her purse, and with one arm around her shoulders, led her to the passenger side car door. He pulled it open and helped her into the seat. Then he went around to the driver’s side, settled himself in the seat and looked over at her. Her face was completely drained of color. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, and he took them in his own and rubbed them. Her fingers were ice cold. �śKayla, tell me what you saw.” �śIt�Śit was dark, black, really. It had a�Śpattern on it, but I couldn’t really make it out.” Not an innocent garter snake, for sure, Paul thought. Which was the limit of his knowledge of reptiles. She gazed at him with wide, vulnerable blue eyes. �śDo you know what kind it was?” He shook his head. �śNot a clue.” �śWhat do we do now?” He wanted more than anything to remove the fear from her eyes. �śDon’t worry. I’m going to call the cops again, and we’ll preserve the package and its wrappings, for fingerprint testing. Then I’m notifying Animal Regulation or Fish and Wildlife, whatever they call it up here, and get them up here right now. You just stay put.” He moved to get out of the car, but she clutched tightly to his hand. �śDon’t leave me.” �śStay here,” he said firmly. �śKeep the door closed. I’ll take care of it. Okay?” She inhaled another deep breath, then nodded. Fueled by rage at whoever was doing this to her, Paul stomped into the house, got Kayla a glass of water and brought it out to her. She swallowed it all without taking a breath, like someone stranded in the desert for days who had come upon a water hole. �śThank you,” she said, her voice weak, then wiped her hand across her mouth. �śI told you I hate rats, but I’m truly, deeply terrified of snakes. Sorry.” �śNothing to be sorry about. Sit tight.” Returning to the house with the glass, he found the card left by the two state cops the other day and called the older one, Sergeant Miles. He wasn’t in, so he left word that there had been a further incident and requested that whoever was on duty needed to come by. He glanced out the window toward where Kayla sat in the car, door shut, staring straight ahead. She was all right, for the present, anyway. It took him a while to find the number of Animal Regulation, but he finally got to them. They promised they’d get someone up there as soon as they could. He checked the kitchen for cracks or holes the snake might crawl through and found none. Then he filled the water glass again. He headed outside, opened Kayla’s door and got down on his haunches, facing her. The color was returning to her face. �śHow are you doing?” He handed her the glass and she took it without drinking it. �śI hate this about myself,” she said with disgust, staring ahead of her and not at him. �śI’m such a stereotype. A woman who is terrified of snakes.” �śHey, snakes are pretty scary.” �śBut I’ve always had this�Śungodly fear of them. I think it’s because my brothers used to�Ś” She let the sentence trail off, just shook her head, shuddered some more. �śYour brothers what?” She didn’t answer, took a sip of water. Then she frowned, as though mulling something over. Turning to face him, her gaze troubled, she asked, �śDo you think it was Jay?” Then she added, �śBut why? If he wants money from me, what could this possibly accomplish except to scare the living daylights out of me and make me even angrier with him?” At the mention of her brother, Paul felt his body stiffen. �śWhen you put it that way, it does sound crazy. But from what you say, he’s not the most rational being on the planet. And while we’re at it, think about Steven Thorne. He’s got a couple of screws loose up there, too.” Again, the frown line formed between her brows. �śNo, he wouldn’t do this. It’s not his style. He likes to fight through his lawyers.” He gazed at her, wondering if she was right and wishing he had a lot more answers. This being in limbo made him feel impotent. �śIt’s time we put this all together,” he said, �śtry to make some sense of it. You up to it?” When she nodded, he ticked off the known facts on his fingers. �śOkay. Sunday night, someone puts chicken bones in the compost heap, the kind that attract wild animals. That’s meant to frighten you. Tuesday night, a dead rat is left at your door, one more way to frighten you. Then he or she, or they, escalate the pressure: Last night, Friday night, Bailey’s attacked, probably by a human being. And now, Saturday afternoon, a snake is delivered.” Rising out of his crouch, he stood, put one hand on the top of the open car door, the other on the roof, and stared down at her. �śKayla, you need to face facts. Someone is out to do you some serious harm.” Her eyes widened; his pronouncement had stunned her. �śWh-what do you mean?” �śAt first, I thought it was relatively innocuous. Sick, sure, but not life-threatening�"someone wanted to play tricks on you, scare the spit out of you, but that was all. It escalated when they hurt Bailey. And with the snake, they’ve really upped the ante. Now I think you’re in danger, real danger.” �śDanger?” Another notion popped into his mind, making him step back and scratch his head. �śAlthough, whoever it is, is proceeding in a pretty roundabout way.” She swung her legs out of the car and set her feet on the ground. Hands gripping the water glass, she stared up at him. �śWhat do you mean?” �śIf someone wanted to harm you, then all they’d have to do is surprise you up here and, well�"” he chose his words carefully �ś�"hurt you.” He didn’t use the word kill because that would be too much to pile on her already fragile state of mind. But he was thinking it. �śBut why?” �śThat’s the big question, isn’t it? Can you think of any reason? Do you, did your husband, have any enemies? From your past or his?” She shook her head vehemently. �śI honestly can’t think of one, not who would do this.” �śWell, there has to be someone. Think.” His own mind raced over various possibilities, the most obvious one, learned his first year on the job, being who would gain from a crime. �śHave you made a will?” �śNot yet.” �śSo, if anything were to happen to you, your family�"your brothers�"will inherit.” �śOver my dead body!” she exclaimed, then her hand flew to her mouth and she moaned, �śOh, God, I didn’t say that.” Grabbing the glass, he lay it on its side. Then, taking hold of her wrists, Paul pulled her up off the car seat. He brought her hands to his chest and covered them with his, held them there while he said, �śKayla, you’re a sitting duck up here. A woman alone, unarmed, not used to danger. And it’s not like you have any protection. I mean, Bailey was less than a watchdog. You’d need a trained German shepherd or a Doberman to actually have some defense against intruders. A gate around the place. An alarm system. A gun.” �śNever.” She shuddered. �śI hate the things.” �śSo does everyone, until they need one.” When she jerked her hands, he realized he was hurting her. He released them, stood back to give her some room. �śSorry. I keep holding you too tightly.” �śNo, no, it’s okay.” She rubbed her wrists, then ploughed her fingers through her hair nervously. �śIt’s always felt so safe up here. I’ve never had to think about protecting myself before.” �śYou didn’t have to think about it.” He paused. �śBefore.” He could see hope flare in her eyes as a thought hit her. �śBut you’ll be here now, Paul, on the premises. That will help, won’t it?” He lifted a shoulder, dropped it. �śSome. But it’s no guarantee. Don’t make me out to be some kind of comic-book superhero.” �śReally? I thought you were.” He was momentarily gladdened by the tiny smile that formed on her mouth, but he snapped right back to being serious. �śNo. I’m all too human. And I’m scared for you. I would feel a hell of a lot better if you left here for a while. Let the state cops do some legwork. Let the Albany cops find your brother.” Her brow furrowed. �śYou want me to leave?” �śYes.” �śRun away?” �śIt’s not running away, Kayla. It’s being smart. And safe.” She met his gaze, her grim expression matching his. For a moment neither of them said a thing, then Paul swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and said, �śI would hate anything to happen to you. You’re very important to me, Kayla. In case you didn’t know.” The expression on her face softened. �śI do. And the feeling is mutual.” He felt his heart fill up with some unnamed emotion. He wanted to reach for her, take her in his arms, keep all harm away from her. But he understood that she needed to make her mind up about what to do, and she needed to do that alone. She moved away from the car and stared down the driveway, elbows crossed, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. After a few moments, she shook her head slowly. �śNo,” she said, then, more strongly, �śNo” again. �śI will not run away.” Wheeling around, she faced him, all traces of the victim gone from her body language. She stood tall, shoulders back. �śIn fact, I’m going back into the house and making myself some tea while we’re waiting for everyone to arrive. Care to join me?” Even though he hated her decision, Paul could only marvel at the change in her. She’d gone from being terrified, nearly childish with fear, to a woman brimming with spunk and determination. �śYou’re sure?” �śI’m sure.” She slapped her hands on her hips. �śIf that snake makes another appearance, well, I’ll just have to deal with it.” She shuddered briefly after her brave pronouncement but regained her determined posture right away. �śSo there!” Buoyed by her decision, and by the warmth she felt inside at the fact that Paul, Mr. Emotional Reticence, had actually admitted she was important to him, Kayla marched herself into the kitchen, Paul right behind her. When they got there, he propped a hip against the counter and watched as she put the kettle on to boil. �śYou know something?” he said. �śYou are one brave lady.” Was he kidding? �śBrave? I’m quaking inside.” �śThat’s the definition of bravery. It’s easy to face danger head-on if you’re not scared. Bravery means you’re terrified, but you face it, anyway.” �śWell then,” she said wryly, �śI’m extremely brave.” She actually got a smile from him then. Just a tiny upturn at the corners of his stern mouth, but still�Ś �śCall the record books! Second time I caught you in a flagrant smile.” �śI wish it were funny.” She sighed, nodded. Dear heavens, this was such a strange situation. And wasn’t she lucky to have Paul here! What would she have done without him? She shuddered to think. As she busied herself steeping the tea in boiling water, Paul found some tongs and plastic bags. She watched from the window as he went back outside and retrieved the package and all its wrappings, setting them down on the long, well-used wooden dining room table in the alcove adjacent to the kitchen. She stared at the box that had contained the snake and felt another involuntary shudder course through her body. �śWhen are the police and Animal Regulation people coming?” �śAs soon as they can, is all they said.” �śIf we have our tea out on the porch, will the snake come and get me?” She said it half mockingly, but she saw from his expression that he understood. �śI’ll keep an eye out, don’t worry. Believe me, he’ll stay as far away from us as he can. In fact, he’ll probably be trying to find some water.” She darted a quick glance around her. �śKitchens have lots of water.” �śThere’s no way to get into the kitchen from below. I checked.” �śWhew.” Taking their teacups with them, they crossed the living room and headed out to the porch. Once there, they sat side by side on the Adirondack chairs and faced the view. It was cloudier today than it had been, Kayla noted, although no, she decided, they weren’t rain clouds. When she took a sip of her tea, her hand was still shaking. She set the cup down, annoyed at her body’s reaction. �śDo you know why I wanted to come out here? Because, of all the places I’ve lived, I think of this place, this porch, as my home.” She angled her head to face him. �śIt feels, or it used to feel, safe. Does that sound strange?” He took a moment to think about it, then shook his head. �śNo. There’s something�Ścocoon-ish about the place, isn’t there? Like nothing can hurt you here, like you’re wrapped in a warm blanket as you gaze out on the big, wide world, which isn’t a very safe place at all.” Her eyes widened as she stared at him in amazement. He got it, one hundred percent. �śExactly�Śwhich is why I’m not good with this kind of thing.” �śWhich kind of thing?” �śThe thought of someone invading my safe place, wanting to hurt me. Of violence of any sort.” She gazed down at her hands, folded in her lap. �śThere was so much of it when I was a child. It was all around me.” �śViolence?” She glanced at Paul. He was watching her, his eyes narrowed with concern. She nodded, then returned her gaze to the expanse of mountains and open sky. Always, this view had calmed her down, and she willed it to do its magic today. �śI used to run away from it,” she told him. �śHide under the bed or wherever I could find some�ŚI don’t know, some sense of safety. That’s how I dealt with it then, and old habits die hard.” �śWhat were you running away from?” When, at first she didn’t answer, he persisted. �śTell me. Was it bad?” She didn’t really want to talk about it, which was why it struck her as odd that she’d brought it up in the first place. �śKayla. You can trust me.” She met his silver gaze, saw again that same unguarded tenderness he’d shown just moments ago when he’d said she was important to him. �śI know I can.” �śTell me.” Still, she hesitated. She never talked about her childhood, not with anyone�"except Walter, of course�"but she felt she could with Paul. There was something comforting and comfortable about being out here on the porch with him, two scarred souls and the mountains. It was then she realized that a major shift had taken place inside her. Not only did she trust him, but more and more she’d come to lean on him. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? What had happened to the woman who was so adamantly set against leaning too much on a macho man for protection? When had he wormed his way into her head and heart as someone it was okay to let down her guard with? She sighed. Barriers were erected for a reason, and were let down for other reasons. And right now, she needed someone to lean on. She took in a breath of fresh air and began. �śI told you I was the only girl of five kids. My mom died when I was three�"I don’t remember her. And the rest of my childhood was pretty dismal. Never enough money or food to eat, lots of hard work. I was Cinderella before the ball, doing all the washing and cleaning and cooking. If I’d been a tomboy, it might have been better. I might have fit in more with the rest of them. But I was one of those girls who played with dolls and took care of injured animals. They made fun of me, giving me daily doses of teasing and bullying.” �śFrom your brothers?” �śYes.” �śWhat about your father?” She shrugged. �śHe drank, and when he did, there were always beatings. The boys got most of those. Afterward they would turn on one another, do even more damage.” �śAnd on you? Did they beat you?” �śSometimes. But they soon learned that if they hurt me too much I was in no shape to run the house and wait on them, so eventually they stopped. But they sure knocked one another around all the time. It was sport to them.” She saw a small muscle in his jaw clench before he asked, �śDid they�Śabuse you? Sexually?” �śNo. Although a couple of my brothers made moves.” She gave a mirthless laugh. �śOne good thing I’ll say for my father�"the only good thing�"he put the fear of God into them about that. So, no, there was no sexual abuse. Not at home.” �śNot at home?” �śNo, that happened when I was sixteen.” She stopped, swallowed, not sure she wanted to go back there. Paul knew that what Kayla needed, most of all, was a good listener, and he wanted to be that for her. But his insides were roiling with anger�"at her father, her brothers, at fate. Injustice again. Take a gentle little girl, toss her into a pack of animals and give her no helping hand at all. Life could be so damned heartless. He ordered his seething insides to relax. She didn’t need his rage at her childhood; she needed his compassion. Her hand was resting on one of the chair’s broad arms. He reached over, took it in his and squeezed it, saying quietly, �śTell me.” She let out a small sigh, closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. �śHis name was Jerry Donley. We’d moved to Phoenix just in time for my junior year. He was a big jock, a senior, and I’d had this crush on him for months. Silently, of course. If I’d told anyone, I’d have been laughed at. He asked me to a dance. I was beside myself with excitement. It was my first date, ever, and I saved up all my baby-sitting money to buy a dress. It was pale blue�Ś” He watched her face, saw tears brimming beneath her closed lids. He squeezed her hand again, comforting her, letting her know he was there. �śYou don’t have to go on, if you don’t want to,” he said. She opened her eyes, smiled at him. �śNo, I want to.” She swiped a finger under each eye, took a sip of her tea, then set it down again. In a voice that seemed strangely calm, she said, �śWe didn’t even get to the dance. It happened in the car on the way. He pulled off the road into a cove where the local kids used to park. He�Śoverpowered me. I didn’t really understand what was happening. I had never even been kissed. He�"” she swallowed �ś�"raped me.” She sat still for a moment, as though remembering the horror of that evening, then added, �śIt was quite an introduction to what goes on between men and women.” Paul muttered a curse under his breath; he felt as though someone had taken a knife and stabbed him in the gut, that’s how much he hurt for her. �śI tried to get out of the car, but he hit me, again and again, and then he raped me one more time for good measure. After that he pushed me out of the car and drove off to the dance. To his real date.” �śGod!” Paul could barely contain himself. �śGod wasn’t there that night,” she said quietly. He took a minute to try to calm down, then asked, �śDid you go to the cops? Press charges?” She shook her head. �śI had been well taught, by then, that if I was in trouble, I had to keep it to myself or there would be�Śrepercussions.” Man, but he was having a hard time restraining his fury. He let go of her hand, made a fist and hit the chair arm, hard. Kayla jumped, startled. �śSorry,” he murmured. �śBut I’d like to get my hands on that creep.” �śYou’d have to go to a mass grave in Bosnia for that. After I told Walter about it, he had Jerry tracked down. He died in a fire while stationed there a few years ago.” �śServes him right.” She shrugged. �śI suppose so. When I heard the news, I didn’t feel much triumph or much of anything. Just�Śsad. I had grown up by then. It took a while. For years afterward, I was a mess.” It was nearly unbearable, hearing what had happened to her, and being unable to help in any way. �śI wish I had been around. I wish I could have fixed it for you.” �śOh, Paul,” she said with a watery smile, �śthat’s so sweet.” �śYeah, right. Sweet. Go on, tell me how you got through it.” �śI never talked about it, not to anyone, just kept running. I left home without graduating high school, came east, started working. Got my GED, put myself through nursing school, worked two jobs and took out loans to do it. I gave myself no time to think. I hid from myself, afraid to touch that�Śdespair I knew was just waiting to get me.” �śWhat changed you?” The rage was slowly receding, being replaced by that same dull ache of hurt for her. �śAfter about a year of nursing school, after years of stammering if a man showed any interest in me, years of having panic reactions and running from the dark and the night, I got help. I heard a lecture on surviving rape and I got into a group with other survivors, then had some one-on-one therapy. I had felt so alone, you see, with this shameful secret, and then I learned that what had happened to me was all too common, that if I let it defeat me, then he�"Jerry�"won. If I didn’t make some attempt to have a normal life, then he, and all the Jerry Donleys of the world, had the power, and could crush the life out of anyone who wouldn’t stand up to them.” She angled her body to face him, her emotions right there on the surface. �śI made myself confront all the fears, including self-recriminations that I’d been carrying around with me forever. You know, what had I done to make him do that to me? Why hadn’t I fought harder? What was it about me that had, maybe, even asked for it? The answer of course was that I had done nothing, nothing to cause it. That I had simply crossed paths with a monster.” It was amazing, Kayla thought, how Paul listened. Most men had short attention spans when it came to hearing the whole story with all the details, but not him. He listened with that same intensity with which he did everything. As Paul nodded, Kayla blew out a breath, the fierce force of memory drifting away with the cleansing effect of telling the story. �śAfter that, I learned how to take care of myself, really take care of myself, not by hiding but by taking action. I took some self-defense classes, trained myself to not back down in a fight, to face it head-on. Not with violence, but with words.” �śLike you did with Steven.” �śYes. I won’t be a victim, ever again.” �śWhich is why you won’t leave here now.” �śWhich is why I won’t leave.” Kayla fell quiet then, and so did Paul. For several moments she let her mind empty, just listened to the birds chatter and sing in the trees all around the property, breathed in the air, even felt a touch of warm sunlight as it broke out from behind a cloud. She took another sip of her now lukewarm tea and watched a hawk circle lazily in the sky. �śWhat about�Ś?” Paul’s voice startled her out of her reverie. �śDamn,” he said quickly, �śit’s none of my business.” �śWhat about what?” �śWell�Ś” He raised and lowered one shoulder, and she could see that he wished he hadn’t asked. �śI mean, I would think you would be pretty turned off by men.” �śOh, I was.” She smiled at his discomfort. �śAfter a while, I took the plunge. Dated some. Learned how to enjoy lovemaking, too. Not often and not with anyone special, really, but I felt I was a member of the human race, at least. And then�ŚWalter came into my life.” �śHe was how old?” �śSixty-nine when I met him.” Paul got that look on his face that spoke for all youthful, virile men with the same doubt: how could an old man please a woman less than half his age? Again, she smiled. �śI know what you’re thinking. Yes, he was a lot older than me. But we had an active sex life.” The look on his face remained skeptical. �śWhat you need to understand, Paul, is that I have this, well, this kind of allergy to �Śmacho’ men. Guys who use their fists or threats of using their fists, to settle the scores. Guys who flex their muscles to attract women. Alpha males claiming their mates.” Like you, she thought silently. Just like you. �śWalter wasn’t like that. He was very smart. And he made me laugh. And he was so kind to me, undemanding. And so I married him. And I was happy. It was never about his money, only about the fact that he was�Śgentle.” �śGentle,” Paul repeated, and again, she could see that the word didn’t strike him as a good thing. �śI see that in you, you know.” �śSee what?” �śGentleness.” His look of horror nearly made her laugh. �śFirst you call me sweet, then you call me gentle. You’re kidding, right?” �śNot in the least.” He snorted. �śI’m the furthest thing from gentle you’ll ever meet.” �śInside, I mean,” Kayla said quietly. �śI know you had to be hard. I know you had to fight for your life in jail. You had no choice. But your nature isn’t really like that. Look how kind you’re being to me.” Paul’s mind and stomach were churning. �śThat’s not kindness. That’s just acting like�Śa human being.” He shifted uneasily in his chair, not at all happy with her glowing assessment of his character. With a rueful smile, she said, �śAnd now I’m embarrassing you. I’m sorry.” She thought he was gentle? She was making him out to be the good guy, the cowboy in the white hat, when she was still completely unaware that he’d gotten this job under false pretenses, that he’d been trying to find out where her brother was. And that when he did, he would beat the son of a bitch to a bloody pulp. Gentle. Ha. The state cops who came weren’t the ones who had been there before. They took notes, asked questions, did all they were supposed to, but Paul could see it in their expressions: not a priority. It never was, until there was valuable stolen property or bodily harm, to a human. They took away the evidence, said they’d nail down the package’s origin through the tracking number, follow up with phone calls and fingerprint testing. Which might happen, but more likely the file would get lost in the bottom of the pile. Budget cuts, not enough manpower; it was the same old story, and it made Paul wish, not for the first time, that he was still on the job, if only to have the resources available to get to the bottom of this thing. As Kayla was seeing the state cops to their car, the phone rang inside the house, so Paul took it. It was the dispatcher from Animal Regulation, apologizing but saying they couldn’t get anyone up there until Monday. If Mrs. Thorne was truly concerned, she ought to check into a hotel for the weekend. �śWho was that?” Kayla asked, coming into the house. �śThe animal guys can’t get up here until Monday.” �śI’m not happy to hear that.” �śI figured you wouldn’t be. The guy I was talking to also said the snake didn’t sound like a rattler, and that it’s probably long gone�"they avoid humans, just like I told you.” �śOh.” �śI also asked him how someone could ship a snake by courier. He had to think about it for a minute, but he said that if a snake is forced into hibernation�"put in a refrigerator for a while, say�"its systems slow down just enough to need barely any oxygen. There were holes in the shoe box, which was set in a much larger box.” �śJust enough air for a hibernating snake.” �śAbout twenty-four hours’ worth, anyway. Which means it was mailed on Friday.” �śAnd was just waking up when I opened it.” She shuddered again. �śDear God, it all sounds so diabolical.” She sighed, then glanced at her watch. �śWhen all this happened, I was on my way to visit Bailey and to help you get your stuff. But now all I want is a nice, hot shower.” �śGo do it. I’ll hunt around for the snake. We can do that other stuff later.” She came up to him, put a hand on his cheek and stroked it once, then dropped her hand. �śYou’re a good listener.” �śAnd gentle,” he said wryly, �śdon’t forget that.” �śIf the shoe fits,” she replied, then headed up the stairs. Restless, Paul went outside, got the ax and began his hunt for the snake. One quick chop and the thing would be history. Not only would Kayla relax, but he, too, would feel a hell of a lot better. He’d been searching for about five minutes when Kayla’s scream ripped through the peaceful late afternoon air. Chapter 9 Kayla watched in horror as, from the far corner of the shower curtain, the snake appeared, slithering its way along the rim of the tub. After her initial, startled scream, she tried to remain still under the hot shower spray. Verbally, anyway. There was no way she could stop quaking, and she wondered wildly if she’d die like this, naked, in the bathtub. Moments later, the curtain was yanked open and Paul had the snake by the tail and was whipping it away from her. She closed her eyes and huddled in the corner, hearing the thwack, thwack, thwack sound of what must be Paul�"ugh!�"using the ax on the reptile. Then she heard the sound of a boot stomping once, twice, one more time. And then there was silence. But only for a moment. Again, the curtain was yanked open and he stood, staring at her, breathing hard. �śDid it bite you?” She remained under the shower, quivering despite the water’s temperature. But she managed to shake her head side to side. �śN-no.” �śSure?” She was able to nod. �śYes.” Both hands flew to her heart. �śIt’s thudding so loudly.” �śBut you’re all right?” �śIs it�Śdead?” �śAs the proverbial doornail.” She sighed. Tears formed in her eyes and she closed them. �śThank you.” She’d cried way too much lately but had no choice in the matter, weeping silently until the adrenaline rush of fear had receded. When she opened her eyes again, something in the room’s atmosphere had changed. It was subtle at first, but then less so. She watched as Paul’s face lost the grim look of a warrior and took on the dazed, glazed look of a man looking at a naked woman. His eyes narrowed as they raked her up and down, quickly at first, then again, more slowly this time, raw hunger in his gaze. Without thinking, she tried to cover herself up, one arm across her breasts, the other hand splayed over the V of her thighs. In the next instant, she asked herself why she was doing this, when�"admit it�"she wanted him to look. Slowly, she let her arms drop to her sides and watched as more heat, more hunger took him. �śGod, you’re beautiful,” he rasped. Her heart, which had begun to slow down, began to throb in her chest again. She felt the tips of her breasts harden, a counterpart to the softening that she felt in her womb. Paul paused in his perusal of her body to look her straight in the eyes, his lids heavy with desire. �śKayla?” His voice was gruff. She understood exactly what he was asking, and without hesitating, she responded. �śYes.” He reached behind her to turn off the water. Then he grabbed the large bath towel sitting on the counter, wrapped her in it and lifted her out of the tub. �śThe snake?” she asked, averting her head. �śDon’t think about it.” He swung her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom where he set her down, still standing, on the thick rug in front of the fireplace. Logs were piled on the grill, so Paul found a match on the mantel and set them ablaze. He knelt in front of her, rubbing her all over with the towel, drying the water droplets on her body and making both her insides and her flesh heat up with desire. She didn’t want the towel on her, she wanted his hands. Pushing the towel away, she knelt down, too, facing Paul, took his face in her hands and kissed him. Not gently, but insistently, her tongue thrusting into his. She wanted him to know that the hunger she’d seen in his eyes matched her own. A growl rose in the back of his throat and he pulled her naked body to his, answering her kiss with a ferocity that, this time, didn’t frighten her in the least. �śTake off your clothes,” she said in a breathless whisper. �śPlease.” Paul blew out a breath. Yes! Mindless, desperate with need, he took no time in getting rid of his jeans and shirt, his socks and boots. Then he turned back to Kayla, still on her knees on the rug, her eyes raking his body as his had raked hers moments before. When her gaze locked on his erection, tumescent with raging need, her eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed with sensuality. He saw the flush come to her cheeks, watched as she lay down on the rug, spread her legs slightly and reached her arms up to him. Her long, pale, lithe body picked up shafts of light from the late afternoon sun that shone through the high windows of the bedroom. He ached with need, all over, so much he was in pain. God, he wanted her! He moved to cover her with his eager body. Through the fog of desire, he managed to remember, just in time. Cursing at the momentary interruption, he found his jeans and reached into the pocket for the condoms he’d placed there on Friday night, condoms he hadn’t ended up needing. Thank you, he said silently, then ripped open the small package and put it on. On his knees beside Kayla, what Paul wanted more than anything was to plunge right into her, but he held himself back. Remembering the story of her rape and all the trauma afterward, he knew he needed to be gentle with her, to keep applying the brakes. Even if it killed him. So, he moved his hands all over her body, stroking her, reveling in the first female flesh he’d been free to explore in a long, long time. Soft. So soft. He wanted to feast on her, to nibble at her neck, her breasts, the secrets between her legs. But it wasn’t easy holding back; he was distracted by the urgency of his need for her. Gritting his teeth, he gauged her reaction as his hands roamed over her. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing as heavily as he was, even groaning a little. Unable to wait any longer, he stroked between her legs, felt the slick moisture cover his fingers. She was ready. �śKayla?” �śWhat?” Her eyes remained closed. �śI need to�Ś” Now she raised her lids. Her blue eyes were lustrous with passion. �śYes. Please.” Those two words were all he needed. He moved between her thighs. On his knees, he pulled her legs up so they could wrap around his waist, splayed his hands under her buttocks. �śTell me if I hurt you,” he managed to gasp before, feeling primal as an animal, he drove into her, right up to the hilt. �śOkay?” �śYes.” He pulled back and thrust in again. Then again. It was exquisite pain and more exquisite pleasure at the same time, and he felt light-headed with the sensation. Every inch of his skin was on fire; it was as though tiny electric shocks had been implanted throughout his system and then detonated all at once. Way too soon, he knew he was on the verge of bursting. No, he said silently, desperately trying to think of something else, anything to stop the momentum. Baseball? World hunger? No, not yet! But it was too late. With a groan that became a guttural shout he exploded inside her. What felt like a lifetime’s worth of his seed was being expelled at once. His body bucked several times with the effort, and he couldn’t seem to stop. When at last it was over, he bowed his head, gasping for breath. �śDamn,” he said. �śThat was way�Śtoo�Śsoon.” He pulled out of her, threw the condom into the fireplace and rolled onto his back, next to Kayla on the soft rug. He slung an arm across his eyes, cursing himself. �śI’m sorry,” he said. He felt her hand stroking his hair. �śStop,” she soothed. �śIt’s okay.” �śIt’s been such a long time.” �śShh. Yes. Of course.” He let his arm fall to his side, giving himself another moment to catch his breath, then angled his head to face her. She lay on her side now, supported by one arm, elbow bent, her head resting on her hand as she met his gaze. Even though the look she gave him was warm and accepting, he couldn’t help noticing the way her chest heaved in and out rapidly, the flush that remained all over her body, the way her rosy nipples stood out from her creamy breasts, pert and hard. And unsatisfied. At once, he dispensed with his preoccupation with his performance. Sliding an arm under her shoulders, he drew her to him and slipped his free hand between her legs. With his fingers, he stroked the slick nub there, still hard and wet with readiness, gently at first, then with more pressure. �śDon’t worry,” he said, �śI’ll take care of you.” Bending his head, he licked her nipples, thinking he hadn’t even really explored her, not the way he wanted to. But he would make it up to her. Her skin tasted wonderful, clean from her shower and musky from desire. His own breathing quickened again along with hers, and he listened with pleasure to the small gasps she emitted. It took a very short time to bring her to climax, which she did with a throaty cry and writhing hips; if he’d been able to hold out just a few seconds longer, she would have come with him inside her. At least, now she was satisfied. It had always been important to him that the woman he was with took as much pleasure from the act of lovemaking as he did. Again, he lay back on the rug, thoroughly depleted. He opened his mouth to speak, couldn’t get a word out. Nor could Kayla. It had all happened so fast, like one big blurring, whirling dream. The shower. The snake. The fear. The desire. Hot, throbbing desire. Paul inside her, so huge, filling her up completely. Bucking and groaning. Her own body’s tremors and groans as her orgasm took her. All of it followed by silence, except for the flames crackling in the fireplace. She closed her eyes and might have fallen asleep had she not heard him stir, pull her up and lead her over to the bed. She flopped down on the mattress�"much better than the rug�"and closed her eyes. She felt the bed move as Paul lay down beside her. In the next instant, she shifted as he got up again. She heard him pad on bare feet out of the room. He was gone only moments when he came back. She opened her eyes to see him slip on his jeans. �śWhere are you going?” �śI’ll be right back,” he said, and left the room again. The snake, she thought. In all the fury of their lovemaking, she’d actually forgotten about the snake. It was dead, anyway, and she was too sated to worry about it. Paul must have gone into the bathroom to deal with what was left of the reptile because, moments later, she heard the sound of his feet on the staircase. She closed her eyes again, drifted off. �śIt’s gone,” she heard him say sometime later. �śGood.” �śI wrapped it up tightly, so it won’t attract any other animals.” �śGood,” she repeated. Again, she felt the bed move as he got on it again. She opened her eyes to see him seated on the edge, leaning over her, his half-lidded gaze impossibly sexy. �śDid that just happen?” �śI believe so.” �śAnd did I break some kind of record for speed?” he asked ruefully. She shrugged and told him the truth. �śI haven’t had many lovers, so I’m not in a position to know.” He swung both legs onto the bed and lay on his side next to her. Then he stroked a long finger down the side of one breast. �śWell then, is there any position you’d like to be in?” he murmured. �śExcuse me?” The same finger slid lazily up to the top of her breast, where he traced the aureole a few times, then moved to flick her instantly hard nipple. �śThe first time was for me. The next one’s for you.” �śWe’re going to do it again?” �śOnly if you want to.” Oh, yes, she wanted to. �śDo I get to touch you?” �śI certainly hope so.” �śUm, well, whatever you say.” He gazed at her, silver eyes glittering with heat, and they were burning her up. Instantly, she became aware of that dull, throbbing ache, the one that spread from the tips of her breasts to her lower belly, to her insides. She felt herself growing damp between her thighs, felt the small nub of sensuality harden and pulse. Just like that, in one moment, the magic began again. She wasn’t used to feeling arousal so soon and so quickly, and she was somewhat uncertain. �śI’m not sure what you want me to do.” One corner of Paul’s mouth lifted. �śFor now, just lie there. Let me touch you. All over. It’s been so long.” He began with her hair, sifting strands of it between his fingers and making her sigh with pleasure. Then he stroked her face, his fingertips gentle on her forehead, cheeks, eyelids, chin. �śI’ve dreamed about this.” �śMe, too.” �śYour skin is so soft.” �śMmm,” she replied, her eyes closed again, sensation building upon sensation. His touch was gentle but firm, and he seemed to read her mind, knowing when to apply pressure and when to tease. Soon, she felt the hot breath of his mouth where his fingers had been, on her neck, her collarbone, along her arms. He sucked gently on her skin, and everywhere he touched, she came more and more alive. He lifted her hand, brought it to his mouth. One by one he drew each finger into the moistness within, sucking and tonguing each in turn, sending shock waves of desire up the entire middle of her being. She moaned softly; of their own volition, her hips began to move. She parted her legs, a yearning deep inside her to connect their bodies the way they were designed to do. He touched her everywhere, along the tops of her shoulders, the soft crevice of her inner arm near the elbow. By the time he got to the tips of her breasts, they were hurting, and he took his time, stroking the plump undersides, flicking the nipples with his tongue till they stood straight up, pointing proudly toward the ceiling. �śPaul,” she said breathily. �śWhat, baby?” He moved so he could kiss her stomach now, tongue the belly button. �śYou’re going too slowly.” �śAm I?” There was lazy amusement in his voice. �śI�"” She gasped, had to catch her breath. Sensation kept building upon sensation. She was climbing quickly. Too quickly. �śYou what?” One finger was teasing a nipple, his tongue was in her belly button, and the fingers of his free hand were stroking the soft flesh of her inner thigh. �śI think I’m going to�"” She didn’t finish the sentence because a huge groan that felt as if it rose from a deep, dark place inside her filled the room, and suddenly her body went tight all over, straining toward something nearly but not quite attainable. All it took was his tongue flicking the hot button between her legs once, then once more, and like that, she exploded. This time was twice as strong as the one before. Heat filled her, muscles twitched. Again and again, her hips and her head bucked, mirroring the startling sensations happening in her womb. The noises that came from her mouth were like nothing she’d ever heard from herself before. She even screamed his name. Her release went on for a long, long time. When her head finally fell back onto the bed, she was still quivering all over. Paul continued to stroke her, soothing her now, helping her transition back to earth. �śOh,” she cried through her labored breathing. �śI can’t believe�ŚI’ve never�Ś I mean, just from�Ś” She left the thoughts, each of them, unfinished. When she felt Paul shift on the bed, her eyes opened to meet his gaze. He was looking at her, shaking his head slowly. �śYou’re like a gift,” he murmured. �śWhat?” She was dazed, disoriented, not sure what had happened to her. �śEvery part of you is orgasmic. Did you know that?” �śNo.” �śWell, then, lucky me. And I’m not done yet.” Gently, he turned her over, kissed the places he’d missed before, the skin on her back and thighs, the soft pad behind her knees. �śPaul.” �śYes?” �śI’m not sure I can take any more.” He stilled his movements. �śYou want me to stop?” She hesitated, felt herself blushing. �śWell�Śactually, um, no.” Chuckling, he turned her on to her side, pulled her top leg over his hip. He moved in closer, his shaft probing between her thighs. Again, the heat spread through her like wildfire, inner muscles tensed and vibrated. She wondered if she’d discovered a previously unknown tendency to nymphomania. �śJust tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered. He was teasing her with his organ now and she found herself wanting nothing more than to have him fill her insides again, and hard. Rough, even. Never, she had never wanted this from a man before, but she did now. �śStop? Are you nuts?” Using the muscles of her legs, she pulled him even closer, opened for him. He entered her, slowly. Just the tip of his member. Making her squirm. �śIt’s just my heart�"I’m not sure how much it can take,” she said. �śYou’re young.” �śGetting older by the minute.” He pushed into her, but slowly, as if he wanted her to feel every quarter inch of him. She had other ideas. �śPaul, please.” �śIs it too much for you?” he asked her, serious now. �śNo.” She gasped. �śPlease. Come into me. All the way. Hard.” �śAh, baby. My pleasure.” With a groan he rammed himself all the way into her, cupping her buttocks with one splayed hand, pulling her closer, tighter. He withdrew partway and then pushed into her, then did it again, with gathering speed. Kayla’s eager body met each thrust of Paul’s with one of her own, and, miraculous as it was, by the time she felt him go still and taut, by the time she heard his cries of �śYes, yes!” as he released his seed, she was�"again!�"joining him. Together they rode the roller coaster to the crest of the very highest arc, and together, they plunged down to the bottom, holding tightly to each other with all their might so as not to lose themselves in free fall. Afterward, Kayla fell asleep immediately, even before Paul pulled out of her. He turned her so her back was to him, pulled her close, curled his body around her. He smiled into her sweet neck. Finally! What he’d been fantasizing about since he’d first set eyes on Kayla Thorne was now reality. Better than his fantasies; he’d died and gone to heaven, there was no other expression for it. He hugged her tightly to him, smelling lemon shampoo and sweat and woman, and felt a tension that had been in his body for years dissipating. Not just sexual tension, but walls that had been erected, maybe for a good reason, but which were no longer necessary. He closed his eyes, preparing to join her in sleep. But a small voice way in the back of his brain started in on him. It began softly but picked up volume as it went along. Don’t get lost in the woman, it said. She will blunt your purpose, scramble your brain. It was the voice of a boxer’s manager the night before the big bout, the quarterback’s coach before the championship game. Spill your seed now, it said, you are less razor sharp, less effective. And the voice was right�"when he was with Kayla, Paul completely forgot about his need for revenge, his need to clear his name, to get his life back on track. Nothing he could do about it tonight, he told the voice, and he drifted off to sleep, but not as soundly as she. As he’d learned in the pen, he slept with one ear and one eye open for sounds and potential threats in the night. He was better than a watchdog�"the slightest variation in the norm snapped him to total wakefulness. Tonight, however, his antennae were dulled and he knew it. After making love with Kayla he was relaxed, sated, that fine edge of sexual tension history. The satisfied male of the species. Not good, he thought before plunging into sleep. There was danger up here on the mountain, and he wanted to be ready when it came. �śThere’s nothing like the smell of fresh-baked cookies.” Kayla glanced up as she removed the baking sheet from the oven. Paul stood in the doorway, filling it, one shoulder propped against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. He was bare-chested and bare-foot, clad only in his jeans, and her blood heated at the sight of him. She could swear her pheromones and his were reaching, straining toward one another. More, they urged greedily. More. �śWhat kind are they?” he asked, his gaze wandering around the room, taking in cooling racks of cookies spread out over every available counter. �śChocolate chip, this batch. Next one, peanut butter. Help yourself.” He walked over to one of the racks, chose one, bit into it and closed his eyes with pleasure as he chewed. �śGod, I’ve missed these.” �śHave as many as you want.” �śYou’d have none left. What’s with all the cookies?” �śA bake sale. Later this afternoon. It’s to raise funds for the Cragsmont Historical Society.” �śWhere’s that?” He picked up a lemon bar this time and bit into it. She had to smile at the sheer sensuality of his expression as he chewed. �śThe small frame house about a block away from Hank’s shop? Painted bright yellow?” �śNope, I didn’t notice it.” She set the tray of newly crisp cookies down on top of the burners momentarily, so she could slip the next batch in. Paul walked back to the doorway and stood there, watching her movements. Silence followed. A long silence. Which meant, she supposed, that the opening conversational gambit had run its course, and neither one of them knew quite what to do with the empty air. She removed the pot holders, set them down on the window-sill and glanced over at Paul. He was licking crumbs off his upper lip as their eyes caught and held. To her, it felt as if thousands of words passed between them, but she had no idea if he was experiencing it the way she was. �śThe morning after,” she said softly. He nodded, let a little more time pass before saying, �śYeah.” She had more she wanted to say but wasn’t sure if it would be okay to do so. She wanted to talk, about a lot of things, not the least of which was what she’d found out about herself. Kayla had heard of multiple orgasms, knew there were different types of climaxes, but had figured herself as your basic one-a-night kind of girl. Paul had taught her about new, previously undiscovered parts of herself. And she had, obviously, been a thoroughly willing pupil. She was somewhat shy about bringing the topic up, so instead she started stacking the cooled cookies in layers in a large square tin, with sheets of waxed paper between them. She was extremely aware of the man in the doorway, though. It was all so new to her; never had she been taken to the heights Paul had taken her to. Sure, she’d learned to enjoy sex, and it had been pleasant, but never rapturous. Never the kind where she was sure the top of her head was going to come off. She wanted to ask if she’d been okay, if she’d been an adequate lover for him. �śOkay if I get myself some coffee?” he asked. �śWhat? Oh, sure. Help yourself.” He came nearer, reached over the top of her head for a clean cup, his arm brushing a strand of hair. Her eyes closed involuntarily. She held her breath, so aware, her body on instant sexual alert, trembling in his presence. That connection again, the one she’d felt that first day, as they stood under the Memorial Arch outside the church and stared out at the mountains. It was the I-am-woman-you-are-man kind of thing that women’s magazines and romances talked about. Amazing. Such a thing actually existed. She wanted to giggle, wanted to pick up the phone, call a girlfriend, and say, �śNow I know. Now I understand.” He brushed up against her as he got the cup, but if the movement meant anything to him, he gave no indication. She watched as he poured coffee, grabbed another cookie, took it and his mug back to the doorway and stood there, shoulder propped once more against the door frame, the opposite hip at a higher angle than the other. Male perfection. But he wasn’t as relaxed as he was trying to seem, she realized. Not that she could tell from his expression, but there was something unsure about him, not grounded. She was feeling a little insecure herself, but mostly she felt ebullient, while he seemed�Ślost. �śPaul?” �śYeah?” �śAre you all right?” His answer came too quickly. �śYeah, sure. Why?” �śJust wondering.” And wondering what to say next, to put him at ease. There are no strings, she could say. Kayla the worldly sophisticate. Great time, huh? Hope we can do it again sometime. Kayla the casual sex partner. Instead, she resorted to the truth. �śThank you,” she said, avoiding his gaze, piling one cookie on top of the next in neat rows. �śFor what?” �śFor last night. It was�"” Kayla had to swallow before going on �ś�"so very special. I�ŚI mean, before last night, I�"” she darted a quick sideways glance at him, then cast her eyes back to the cookies �ś�"didn’t know.” Nothing. He said nothing. Which made her feel vulnerable, naked, and not in a good way. Finally, he spoke. �śI wasn’t too�Śrough?” �śNot at all.” He expelled a relieved breath. �śGood. Well, then I think it’s me who should be thanking you,” he said gruffly. �śI forgot how good it could be. Inside, I mean when I was in jail, well�Ś” He left the sentence unfinished. She angled her body so she could face him, her head cocked to one side. �śWhat was it like, Paul? It’s not my business, I know, but if you’d be willing to talk about it, I’m willing to listen.” A frown formed between his perfectly shaped brows as he sipped his coffee, took a bite of his cookie and seemed to consider her question for a moment. Then he set the cup and the cookie down on the nearby counter. �śIf anyone’s allowed to ask, it’s you. And to answer your question, it was a nightmare.” �śYou read about these things in the papers,” she said, �śthe way it is in prison. Men using each other.” His expression turned grim, hard, the way he’d looked the day they’d met. �śAnd you want to know if that happened to me?” �śOnly if you want to tell me,” she said, adding, �śAnd I’m not here to judge you, Paul, whatever happened.” The tightness in his expression loosened, just a bit, and something inside her did, too. There was no real need to be shy or worried about herself with Paul. Like her, he was an imperfect human being. Sure, he might look like a walking ad for a testosterone supplement, but inside he hurt and felt shame and regret, just like everyone else. He shook his head slowly. �śNo, I managed not to have that particular experience. And trust me, it wasn’t easy. You know what they say about cops having to serve time with the men they put there.” �śI can imagine.” �śNo you can’t, and I’m glad. But as it happens, I lucked out. I wasn’t put in with the high-violence group, at least. Although where I was could be pretty rough. But there was one inmate, Alberto Gonzalez. He was a natural leader and his gang was tough, trust me. I had helped out his brother Carlos once. On my recommendation, he avoided jail time. He was innocent, in intent, anyway�"had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he was just a kid. A kid who wanted to go to college. Carlos was the bright spot in his family, their hope for the future. So Berto decided to take care of me, to return the favor. He found me right after I got sent up, told me what to do, how to avoid being raped.” He held up his arm so she was gazing at the tattoo. �śI affiliated with his gang. They watched my back.” �śI see.” �śPlus, I worked out at the gym, got very strong. Snarled at everybody who wasn’t �Śone of us.’ Got a rep as a mean dude, someone you didn’t want to mess with. Even so, it was close a few times. I have some scars. But I defended myself and I always had backup. Berto’s guys.” His expression was grim as he added, �śAnd I became as brutal as the rest of them.” �śYou had to.” He nodded. �śYeah, I had to. There was no choice�"it was that or go under.” �śYes.” She walked the few steps over to where he stood in the doorway, put her head on his chest and her arms around his broad back. His skin smelled of her lemon shower gel and she smiled. �śI’m so glad you’re here, so glad you survived.” �śYeah,” he said gruffly, putting his arms around her. They stood there, listening to each other’s hearts beating. �śI�Śguess I needed to say all that out loud. Thanks.” �śThank you for trusting me with it.” The timer bell went off, interrupting the warm, connected moment. Kayla raised her head. �śLast batch is done,” she told him, then broke the embrace and went back to the oven. �śWhen did you say this thing is, this bake sale?” �śThis afternoon. Three o’clock.” �śOh.” She took two baking sheets out of the oven and turned it off. �śIt’ll be fun. It’s at the small park in town. There’ll be booths and a fortune-teller. And dancing under the moonlight. Kind of a big, last party for the town before the snow comes.” �śAnd I suppose you expect all twelve citizens who live here to come?” he asked, one eyebrow raised sardonically. �śNot everybody’s left for the winter yet. Some of the houses are occupied. And they come from all over, other towns, even up from Susanville. It’s kind of a tradition. I hope you’ll come, too.” She bit her bottom lip, feeling shy again. �śWith me.” His face registered a look of horror and he shook his head. �śI don’t do that kind of thing very well.” �śOh.” It was hard to mask her disappointment. �śWell, all right.” �śBut, yeah, I’ll go,” he said quickly. �śI need to keep an eye on you, anyway.” She grinned, pleased with him, pleased with herself. �śWatch my back?” �śRight. But it’s not till later, right?” �śRight. Well, the cookies are all done. Can I make you some French toast? Waffles? Eggs?” He scratched his head, looked bemused. �śThis is too weird. I work for you. You shouldn’t be cooking for me.” �śAren’t we past that yet? The employer-employee thing? I mean, well�Ś” She felt her cheeks redden. �śYou know.” The edges of his mouth turned up. �śYeah, I know. Last night.” �śYes.” He finally left the cocoon of the doorway and walked toward her. �śHow about you cook breakfast later.” Brushing her hair off her shoulder, he leaned down and kissed her neck. �śRight now,” he murmured, �śI’d like to take you back to bed. That is, if you’re not too tired. Or too sore.” �śAre you kidding?” she said as her body responded like a match that had just been lit. �śI’d love to.” With that, he scooped her up in his arms. Laughing, she allowed herself to be carried through the house, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, where the lessons in how her body worked took up where they’d left off the night before. Chapter 10 While Kayla was putting together a huge brunch of bacon, eggs and toast, Paul went outside to check the grandpa cabin. He came back in through the kitchen door, nodding. �śIt’ll do fine.” Sure you don’t want to just move in here with me? Giddy from lovemaking, she nearly said it out loud. But really, it was way too soon to be even thinking it. And not like her at all. One night and morning of mind-bending sex, a few tender words in times of high stress, and she was already fantasizing about co-habitation. It was so typical of how members of her sex reacted�"the eternal seekers of nest partners�"but not smart, no matter how you looked at it. She felt a twist of guilt toward Walter’s memory at the direction of her thoughts. Would he want this for her? But of course he would. He’d told her early on that, with their age difference, he wouldn’t be her final love�"that she had years ahead of her for many relationships, after he was gone. Not that she was talking about love with Paul. Mustn’t confuse healthy lust with love. �śIsn’t the cabin somewhat dusty?” she asked him. �śI can live with some dust.” �śI can get a crew up here in the morning, get them to give the place a good going-over.” �śI said it’s fine,” Paul replied, his words clipped. �śAnd if it needs dusting I’ll do it myself.” �śBut you’re already working so hard.” She took two plates down from the cabinet and began to pile them with food. �śI’ll do it on my own time.” Puzzled by his sudden vehemence, she set down the spatula. �śPaul? What is it?” He shrugged, scowling. �śIt’s just that you have this Mercedes and you can hire a crew�"” he snapped his fingers �ś�"just like that. You can buy anything, Kayla. All I have to offer is a strong back and my two hands.” �śWhat’s this? Class warfare?” Irritated, she slapped her hands on her hips. �śAnd when did we begin talking about what I can buy and you can’t?” �śJust now.” On the verge of engaging in an argument with him, Kayla paused to consider just what his words meant. The fact was, he had a point. Up to now, the difference in their economic status hadn’t really entered into her thinking, mostly because she didn’t feel like a wealthy person, not in her heart. She’d only recently been shown a life of privilege. Deep down, Kayla was still a coupon-clipping, bus-riding, buy-on-sale-only person. She nodded. �śI got it. Okay, then. Clean to your heart’s content. Meantime, food’s on.” Afterward, while Paul washed up, she ran upstairs to change for the fund-raiser. She was tired of her jeans and sweats. This afternoon, for once, she wanted to look like a girl. Except for one business suit and one �ślittle black dress,” there was a limited selection of choices up here in the cabin�"her good stuff was back in Albany. She managed to find a print skirt and a short-sleeved pink silk blouse. She slid her feet into soft leather boots, threw a light sweater over her shoulders, then fussed with herself in the mirror. As she combed her hair, leaving it down, and applied lipstick and mascara, she studied her reflection and liked what she saw. She was different than she’d been these past months since Walter’s death. Younger, somehow. More alive. Good loving, she told herself with a grin. Great for the skin, got that tired blood racing, the heart pumping. But there was another, much more important benefit that the last couple of days had brought to her: the ghost of Jerry Donley had finally been laid to rest. Nothing her rapist had done to her would ever again have any effect on her life. Kayla smiled into the mirror. At last, she was free. Paul stood at the foot of the staircase, and as she descended, she could see the masculine appreciation in his eyes. It had been a while since she’d been on the receiving end of a look like that, and she preened inside. �śYou look good,” he said in his gruff way. �śThank you, sir,” she said with a wide smile. Before they went to the fund-raiser, they stopped at Paul’s cabin to pick up his stuff. It took only a minute; all he possessed were two pairs of jeans, two work shirts, two T-shirts, a pair of tennis shoes and the boots he wore, plus a toothbrush and razor. By the time they got to the event, the park was full of happy celebrants. Paul carried the tin of cookies, and Kayla held on to his arm as they joined the party. Paul really, truly, deeply did not want to be here. He felt uncomfortable about Kayla’s hand on his arm, about being seen in public with her. What they did when they were alone, well, that was private and no one else’s business. But she was known up here, known as Walter Thorne’s well-to-do widow. There would be gossip about the two of them, no avoiding it; he didn’t care for that, not for her, not for him. But it was obvious that she’d not only been looking forward to this but had been determined to attend, and his main concern had to be for her safety. He considered himself on guard duty. For all he knew, anyone here today could be responsible for the mysterious incidents at the Thorne cabin. As the two of them made their way to the baked-goods booth, he kept an eye out, although for what, he had no idea. Set amid a grove of tall trees, the large grassy area was dotted with booths and tables, offering up all kinds of goodies�"food as well as jewelry, knitted items, paintings, ceramics. Apparently, Cragsmont was home to not a few artist types and they’d taken that day to show off what they’d been working on. Not bad, he thought, studying an oil painting of a reclining nude while Kayla chatted with the baked-goods volunteers. The model was far more voluptuous than Kayla, but the painting took him back to a couple of hours ago and how she’d looked lying on the bed, her arms above her head as she stretched, her milk-white body washed in pale afternoon light. Her breasts were smaller than those of whoever had posed for the painting, but they were deliciously round and utterly responsive to the slightest touch�"as was all the rest of her. Not surprisingly, he found his groin area tightening�"for the nth time that day, it seemed�"so he switched his attention to a still life of pumpkins and grapes. Safer, he figured. Less potentially embarrassing. Kayla came up to him, towing a short woman with curly red hair and freckles. �śPaul?” she said. �śI’d like you to meet Lou McAndrews. She’s Bailey’s doctor and my dear friend.” Nodding, he took the smiling woman’s proffered hand and shook it. �śLou.” �śPaul.” �śHow’s Bailey doing?” he asked. �śResting comfortably, as the saying goes. He’s had a rough time, poor thing. And he’s kind of old, you know.” �śYou’re not saying�Ś?” Kayla began. �śNothing of the sort. I’m just saying his recovery will take a while. But no�"” the woman grinned again, her brown eyes brimming with life �ś�"that feisty little thing isn’t ready to greet his maker, not for a while.” �śOh, good. When can I get him back?” �śLet’s give it a couple more days, okay?” She gazed around happily. �śIsn’t this great?” Kayla said, �śYes, it is,” and Paul could tell that they both really thought it was one terrific place to be. Not him. Too many people, too much cheer occupying one small area. �śI’m going to browse through the used books,” he said. �śSee you in a bit,” he told Kayla, then nodded to Lou and took off. Both women stared at his back as he walked away, and Kayla found herself sighing. Without a doubt, Paul was taller, more muscular and more dangerous-looking than anyone else on the green, and she felt possessive and proud and sort of shocked at the notion that he was hers. For now, at least. Lou whistled softly. �śThat the handyman you told me about Friday night?” �śYes.” Both women had yet to look at each other; they were still gazing at Paul, who now stood off to one side of a long table covered with paperbacks and some hardbounds, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied the titles. �śHoo-eeey,” Lou said appreciatively, �śit’s like you ordered him out of a catalog of hotties, subheaded, Hunky Handymen.” She turned to Kayla, raised an eyebrow, her expression sly. �śAnd is he? Handy?” She felt the heat rising on her neck and cheeks. So much for keeping anything from Lou. �śVery.” The redhead nodded knowingly. �śSo I see. Well, you’ve needed some decent loving.” She chuckled. �śGlad you knew that. I had no idea.” �śSo, where’s he from? Come on, tell Aunt Lou all about him.” Kayla hesitated, reluctant to share the entire truth with her friend, that the man she’d taken to her bed last night was just out of jail. Kayla knew the whole story, but she also know how it would sound. It might make Lou worry, and Lou’s worry might prick her own bubble of happiness. �śAlbany, I think. Originally. I’m not quite sure.” �śI see.” With a knowing smile Lou continued, �śYou didn’t bother with the �Śwhere are you from?’ and �Śwhat’s your sign?’ thing, huh? Just got right to it.” �śDon’t, Lou.” Her face must be beet-red by now. �śCouldn’t resist. Sorry.” The teasing expression left the other woman’s face, replaced suddenly by a frown. �śWait a minute. A handyman? He’s not one of Hank’s guys, is he? I mean, you wouldn’t let an ex-con on your property, would you?” �śHe’s not really an ex-con.” She felt defensive and knew she sounded it. �śSo, he didn’t serve time?” �śYes, he did, but�"” Lou finished her sentence for her. �śBut he was innocent? Oh, Kayla. This isn’t good.” Her frown deepened. �śDid he have anything to do with what happened to Bailey? I mean, these ex-cons usually have quite a temper, and a barking dog might make him go over the edge. Heck, barking Yorkies make me want to snap.” Kayla’s mouth dropped open in dismay. �śYou think Paul attacked Bailey? No.” She shook her head for emphasis. �śNo way.” �śAnd you’re so positive because�Ś?” �śBecause he just wouldn’t. He’s not like that.” �śNot like what?” It was on the tip of her tongue to say he wasn’t quick-tempered and violent, that he wasn’t anything like the classic ex-con. That he was gentle and compassionate. But of course she’d also seen him quick to anger and knew he was capable of using his fists. As he’d said, he’d had to become a brute just to survive. �śYou don’t understand,” Kayla said weakly. �śEnlighten me.” The fierce skepticism in Lou’s normally warm brown eyes made Kayla’s heart sink. How could she explain? The raw facts weren’t in Paul’s favor, and she knew how it would sound: Paul was framed, he’s really innocent. He had to become a gang member in jail, had to get the tattoos. He’s out on a technicality and might have to go back. He’s hell-bent on revenge. He seems ready to use his fists anytime his anger is aroused. Not a great résumé for an innocent man. She sighed. �śIt’s too complicated.” Lou snuck another look at Paul then leveled a sharp eye at her friend. �śI don’t have a good feeling about this.” Holding up her hand as Kayla began to protest again, she said, �śHear me out, okay? When you brought poor little Bailey in, didn’t you tell me that there had been other incidents? Noises in the night? A dead rat? And didn’t this all happen since this guy showed up? Isn’t that just a bit too much of a coincidence?” And she didn’t even know about the snake, Kayla thought with dismay. What would Lou say then? �śPlease,” Lou continued, �śbust out of that morning-after daze and give it some thought. It’s possible, just possible, that you’re wrong about this guy.” She tried, really she did. Turning her head, she studied Paul as he browsed among the used books, picking up one, examining it, setting it down and picking up another. As always, his face was stern and unsmiling, his body language restless, edgy. A man in no way at peace with himself or his surroundings. But swift mental images paid the lie to her friend’s theories: Paul’s agonized face when she returned from town after taking Bailey to Lou’s. His quick response when the snake slithered out of the package, and the way he’d taken care of her afterward. The way he’d listened as she talked about her childhood traumas. The way he’d gone after the snake in the shower. And what had happened between them after that. If he’d been in any way responsible for the recent attacks on her, then he deserved the award for best actor in the world. Besides, she reminded herself with relief, she hadn’t even met Paul when the first incident�"The Case of the Chicken Bones in the Night, as she’d come to think of it�"occurred. On the other hand, Kayla was aware he kept some secrets from her. It was nothing obvious, just a sense she got once in a while, a moment here and there when he seemed on the verge of revealing something, but always cut himself off before following through. Lou’s hand on her arm broke her reverie, and she turned back to face her. Although the other woman was only a few years older than she was, she’d seen her share of heartache and had good instincts when it came to people. �śBe careful.” �śI am being careful,” Kayla insisted. �śAre you? You’re grieving and you’re vulnerable. You’re up here alone. Not to mention you’re major-league wealthy. A perfect target.” Her back stiffened. �śPaul’s not after my money.” For a quick moment, the skeptical look flashed again. But then Lou backed down as though understanding that if she pushed any more, it would be counterproductive. Shrugging, she said, �śWhatever you say.” �śLou, I’m not a victim. And I’m not a child.” �śOh, honey, we’re all innocent when it comes to sex. Especially great sex. It feels so liberating, we forget to ask the right questions.” Too much of the comment hit home. It was true. Kayla was in sexual thrall to Paul, and she knew practically nothing about him, except what he’d told her about being in jail. Nothing about his life before. If he liked music, movies, rooted for a team. Well then, she would talk to him later, find out all about him. Fill in some blanks. Her instincts about him weren’t wrong, she just knew it. Mind made up, Kayla smiled at Lou. �śOkay, I hear you. Now, how about we change the subject?” �śYou got it.” �śOkay if I ask about your mom? Any change?” �śNo. She’s the same.” Her ready smile turned bittersweet. �śShe keeps saying she doesn’t want to put me through this, like she should go away somewhere, grab a canoe, float out to sea and die alone. And I tell her she raised me by herself all those years, so it’s payback time. Whether she likes it or not, she gets to see my ugly face every day until the end.” The two friends, one a veterinarian, the other a nurse, were able to talk about death in a matter-of-fact way, which most civilians had trouble with. From the beginning, it had been an important part of their friendship. Kayla gave Lou a quick hug. �śYou’re the best.” �śNah. Mom’s the best. I’m just her kid.” �śDr. Lou!” A small child with a tiny gray puppy in her arms was tugging on Lou’s sleeve. �śGandalf wants to say hello.” �śTalk to you later,” Kayla told her friend, after stroking the wiggling animal and getting soft puppy kisses for the effort. She made her way over to Paul, who greeted her with a nod. Together they ate chicken on skewers and home-grown, deep-fried zucchini slices, then browsed some more. In a corner of the park, a poet was reading his latest epic, and they stayed to listen for a while. As the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, Hank showed up. He said hello to several people, then his gaze lit on Paul and Kayla. Waving, he made his way over to them, his face creased in a big, gold-toothed grin. �śHey, Miz Thorne. Paul.” �śHey, Hank,” Paul said, obviously glad to see someone else he knew. �śWhere you been?” He winked. �śI spent some time with my lady friend in Susanville.” �śYou have a lady friend?” Paul asked. �śThat so hard to believe?” The gold teeth gleamed again. �śYou young studs don’t have the market cornered on sex appeal.” �śIs she here?” Kayla asked, looking around. �śNah. Maggie’s not much for these shindigs.” �śNeither am I,” Paul said ruefully. �śBut you’re here, aren’t you?” �śIf you gentlemen will excuse me for one moment,” Kayla said, �śI see a scarf that has my name written on it.” As Kayla walked away, Hank favored Paul with another wink. �śI see you’re in with the widow, huh?” He didn’t care for the comment, but he kept his expression neutral. �śShe’s a good person.” The other man nodded in agreement. �śThat she is, yes, for sure. I’ve always liked Miz Thorne, she’s always treated me well. Which is why it’s so nice one of my boys has landed on his feet. And with a rich woman.” He gave him a guy-to-guy shove in the ribs with his elbow. Inwardly, Paul cringed. Hank was insinuating what most people here today were assuming; all afternoon, he’d heard whispers and observed various fair attendees staring at Kayla and him with unabashed curiosity. All of them, including Hank, probably thought Paul was using her for his own ends. Which he was. Although not for her money, dammit. Far from it. That niggling sense of guilt, never far from the surface, smashed into him this time in a way that he couldn’t bury. He needed to tell Kayla about his original reasons for wanting this job. He didn’t feel guilty about his motives for doing so, only that he’d let too many days go by, had allowed the two of them to become increasingly intimate, without telling her the whole story. Paul was no saint; if he could get away without filling her in, he would. But as soon as he found her brother, she would know, anyway. Better now than later. He made a silent promise to himself that he wouldn’t take her to bed again until he’d gotten it off his chest. Of course, then, she might not want to let him take her to bed. Ever again. Which would leave a huge void in his life, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to face. �śYou must be about done at the Thorne place.” Hank’s question swiftly brought him out of his inner debate. �śNo. I have at least another week’s work there.” The older man frowned. �śReally?” �śIn fact, I’m going to be staying on the property for a while, in a separate cabin,” he was quick to add. Hank’s frown grew deeper. �śAre you?” �śSomething wrong with that?” He seemed to look through him for a moment, then the grin was back. �śNah. I guess if you want to prolong the work and the widow’s willing to pay, hey, can’t complain about that, can I?” Paul clenched his fists; he liked Hank, but he really did not like the man’s not-too-subtle insinuations. �śThere really is work to be done, Hank.” �śSure, sure.” He waved it away. �śWell, look, I’m going to get me some grub. See you around.” Paul saw Kayla making her way back to him, just as a guitar, violin and banjo combo begun to play and several couples were gathering on the green to dance. The evening was turning chilly, and she’d put on the sweater she’d earlier worn around her shoulders. Tied around her neck was a colorful, hand-painted scarf. As she reached him she held out her arms to him. �śShall we?” �śLeave?” �śNo, silly. Dance.” �śYou’re serious.” �śSomething wrong with dancing?” �śWe didn’t do much of that in the pen,” he deadpanned. �śI’m kind of out of practice.” �śIt’s like driving�"it comes back to you.” Smiling sweetly, she put her left arm on his shoulder, held out her right and moved into him. �śMay I have this one, sir?” And then she was in his arms and they were dancing in the moonlight to an old, sad ballad. At first he felt awkward, not only because he’d developed two left feet, but because of the stares they were receiving from onlookers. Kayla didn’t seem at all embarrassed by the attention, for which he admitted a grudging admiration. What the hell? he thought. She’s okay with it? So am I. He made himself relax, pulling her closer so that their bodies touched shoulders to knees. Right away, he felt a familiar spark of electricity humming throughout his body and collecting between his legs. One instant erection, at your service and poking you in the stomach. �śSorry,” he murmured in her ear. �śFor what?” �śDamnedest thing. I can’t seem to touch you without wanting you.” �śThere’s nothing to apologize for,” she murmured back, her lips against his ear. �śI feel the same.” �śBut�ŚI worry that I’m too much for you.” She removed her head from his shoulder and gazed at him through eyes turned nearly opaque in the moonlight. Her face was soft and oh-so-sweet. �śIt’s not very polite of you to brag about your endowments,” she offered with a wicked grin. His mouth twitched, but then he grew serious again. �śYou know that’s not what I mean. It’s that I have so much time to make up for.” She paused for a moment, then whispered, �śOh, Paul. So do I.” Their gazes remained locked for a moment longer, then Paul expelled a breath. �śYou truly are the most amazing woman,” he said gruffly, then pulled her to him again. They danced till the end of that selection and through another, this one an old Cole Porter tune. And all the while, the heat between them grew stronger and more insistent. �śHow soon can we get out of here?” he murmured in her ear. �śHow about right now?” Arm in arm, they walked over to her car, got in and drove back to the house. Once there, he had her stay in the car until he’d made a thorough search of the premises. Finally, he returned and helped her out of her seat. �śEverything seems to be fine.” She smiled up at him, then the smile turned into a huge yawn, one she covered up with her hand. �śSorry. That kind of snuck up on me.” �śYou’re tired. You’ve hardly slept.” �śI’ll live. So what’s next?” she asked, a mischievous light in her eyes. �śOr better yet, your place or mine?” Again, the need to yawn took over, after which she scrubbed at her face, digging her knuckles into her eyelids and rubbing them. �śOh, Paul. I’m really sorry.” �śNothing to be sorry for. We need to get you into bed, so you can sleep, rest up for the next time I ravish your body.” He put his arm around her shoulders, began walking her toward the house, but she stopped. �śI always have tea before I go to bed�"it’s a tradition. Why don’t you go sit out on the porch? I’ll make some, bring it out.” �śBetter yet,” Paul answered, �śyou’re tired, so I’ll make it. If you don’t mind me nuking it instead of waiting for the water to boil.” Her answer was a small, sleepy smile. �śI’ll make an exception, just this once.” Kayla lowered herself onto one of the Adirondack chairs, grateful to be sitting down and mildly disappointed that her sleep-deprived body was making its needs known so blatantly. Still, it wouldn’t be bad to just hang out with Paul, for once, to sit and gaze out at the night together. Lou had been right; she knew so little about him. They could talk. She could learn his likes and dislikes. Her heart filled to overflowing as she thought about him. Whatever Lou suspected, she was wrong. Paul was a good man. Kayla knew it in her gut, knew that she could trust him. Trust was essential to a relationship. Relationship. She repeated the word to herself. Was that what they had? Oddly enough, she wished Walter were there, right at that moment. She would have liked his assessment of Paul’s character, would have appreciated his input on why she’d become involved with a man who was so not her usual type, who was not a �śsafe” kind of person. Walter had known her well and had always had a lot of wisdom for her when she was mulling over life’s choices. Walter. Dear Walter. For nearly a year, she’d grieved for him, but now he was receding into memory. The sharp pain of his absence simply wasn’t there anymore. And somehow, she knew he’d be happy for her. Paul returned with a tray loaded with two steaming mugs, spoons and the sugar jar. Also a plateful of cookies, the ones she’d kept back from the fund-raiser. He set the tray down on the table between them. �śI’m glad we’re talking,” Kayla told him. �śI know nothing about you, you know.” Paul had steeled himself to make his �śconfession,” and had spent the time in the kitchen rehearsing it. At this moment, however, he was ashamed to admit that he was grateful for the reprieve of Kayla’s curiosity. �śOh? What do you want to know?” �śWhere you were born. Your family. Details.” He grabbed a cookie off the plate and bit into it. The chocolate melted in his mouth. �śThese are great.” �śSo you’ve been telling me all day. Talk to me.” He shrugged. �śSure. I’m a native of Albany. My dad is a retired firefighter. A real good guy. He raised me and my two kid brothers pretty much alone. Mac is the youngest, he’s moved away, is married, has two kids. Jimmy is back at home, after a pretty messy divorce. He’s a cop, too, works on white-collar crime. I have a stepmother now, Rachel. We get along great.” �śYou’re a close family.” �śYes.” �śI never had that. I hope to have it someday.” Her smile was wistful, and he realized, not for the first time, how very lucky he’d been in his upbringing. His childhood had been filled with good food and toys, with love and stability, while hers, from what he knew, had been lacking in all of that and more. He needed to tell her the truth, owed it to both of them to come clean. More than anything, he didn’t want to interrupt the nice, intimate mood here on the porch, the black night spread out before them. But it was time. He drew in a deep breath, expelled it. �śKayla, I have to tell you something, something pretty important,” he began. Cra-a-a-ack. The sound came from somewhere nearby, a kind of high-pitched grinding noise. In an instant, Paul was out of his chair and had turned on the porch light. There was nothing and no one around. He turned to Kayla, who was gripping the edges of her chair. �śSit still.” Cra-a-a-ack. This time he was able to identify it as coming from beneath them. Was it his imagination or had the porch, almost imperceptibly, shifted? �śDid you feel that?” he asked. �śFeel what?” He held out his hand. �śCome on.” She grabbed it, got up. �śWhere to?” �śAnywhere but the porch. It feels unstable.” Together they moved quickly across the wooden slats, down the stairs and onto solid ground. �śFlashlight?” �śIn the kitchen.” He pulled her along the side of the house, into the kitchen, and got a long powerful flashlight from a drawer. Then, still keeping hold of Kayla’s hand, he returned to the rear of the house, stopping several yards short of the porch. �śStay here,” he told her, releasing her hand. Cautiously, he moved to the edge of the porch, got down on his stomach and aimed the beam underneath the slats and at the supports that were dug into the mountainside. Back and forth he shone the light, quickly, then more slowly. Nothing moved, the powerful beam didn’t pick up any crouching animals, anything out of the way at all. The wood-and-concrete supports seemed solid enough, but he couldn’t really tell, and he knew it was useless to investigate at night. Frustrated, he rose to his feet and, brushing the dirt off his shirt, walked back to where Kayla stood, hugging herself. �śI can’t see anything, but there must be a crack or something in one of the supports.” �śWalter always kept up the foundation,” she told him through chattering teeth. �śHe said that with part of the house built into the hillside, we’d be fools not to respect the mountain.” �śYeah, well, I respect the hell out of the mountain and something’s wrong.” Was this one more item on the list of ways to terrify Kayla? Or did this particular incident have a natural explanation, such as: old houses have old structural parts that need constant monitoring and repair. �śShould we call someone?” she asked him. �śOn Sunday night? We won’t be able to get anyone up here until tomorrow. But I would feel a lot safer if we left the property. The porch may not be safe, which means the whole damned house could come crashing down.” �śNo, it won’t. I’m trying to tell you. It’s set firmly in concrete. Walter explained it to me. Even if something happens to the porch supports, the house itself is totally safe.” Walter, Walter, Walter. He nearly said it out loud. He was sick to death of hearing the old guy’s name, not to mention how Kayla’s late husband seemed to know everything in the world there was to know. Sure, he was being irrational, knew it and didn’t care. The fact was, Paul was more than mildly jealous of Walter Thorne’s importance in Kayla’s life, before Paul met her�Śand to some extent, still. His momentary preoccupation with a dead man was interrupted by the sight of Kayla yawning again. �śPaul? If we can’t do anything about a creaking porch tonight, I need to find a bed before I pass out.” �śYou’re not staying in the house.” �śI told you, Walter said�"” �śI know what Walter said,” he snapped, way too harshly, then forced himself to dial it back. �śPlease, Kayla, I don’t feel okay about you, about anyone, staying in the house.” Through eyes already half lidded with sleep, she stared at him. �śAre you thinking this is another attack?” �śI don’t know. It’s possible.” She rubbed her hands over her face, then emitted a loud sigh. �śGod, when will it end?” Her hands dropped to her sides. �śYou know what? I’m too tired to be scared. I’m going to the grandpa cabin. It’s on solid ground, the windows close and the doors lock. I’m sleeping there. Care to join me?” �śTell me again why we can’t get out of here, say, go to Susanville? Just for one night?” Despite her exhaustion, her face took on a determined cast. �śBecause I’m not leaving. It’s illogical, I know. This may not make sense to you, but this�Śinvasion of my house is reminding me of the rape. I’m feeling violated, and I won’t let that happen, not again. If someone is trying to drive me away, it’s not working. They picked the wrong victim. It’s pissing me off.” He shook his head slowly at her vehemence. �śI don’t know whether to applaud you or shake you.” He clenched his fists at his side. �śGod, you’re stubborn.” Her chin jutted out. �śI pick my fights, that’s all. And it’s gotten me through my life so far.” �śAnd may end it.” �śThen so be it.” They glared at each other for a moment longer. Then, as though the last few interchanges had totally depleted her energy, Kayla’s shoulders sagged and she yawned again. �śI can’t fight with you anymore, Paul. I’m going to the cabin to sleep. You can come or not.” Muttering under his breath, Paul followed her to the small, wood-framed building, which was set far back from the mountainside, nestled neatly among tall fir trees. It was too much. One thing piling on top of another. Too damn much. She should be hiring bodyguards, he thought darkly, for all the good he was doing her. He shook his head, cursed again. All he’d wanted to do was clear his name; instead he seemed to have landed right smack in the middle of some stupid vendetta. Against a woman who had become way too important to him. And at the moment, he was no closer to understanding or solving the mystery of what was behind this than at any time before. He needed facts, and he was dependent on others to get them for him. Tomorrow. He’d call Brian again, get that info on where Jay’s call had come from. The state cops would run fingerprints on the UPS package, find out its origins, who mailed it, although Paul was sure it would be an alias. Who the hell was doing this? He was totally at a loss for theories, aside from the ones he’d already come up with�"angry relatives. Sure, he could hunt down Steven and shake a confession out of him�"if there was one to be made. And when he found Jay, which he would, he could find out if he had played any part in this. But there was something that didn’t gel about Steven and Jay as suspects. And Melinda was too crazy, too scattered to have planned this campaign of terror. There was something there, in the recesses of his brain, but it was eluding him. Dammit, he used to be a good cop. No, a terrific cop. Past tense. Kayla was already at the door when he caught up to her, her hand on the knob. �śWait,” he said. �śFor God’s sake, let me look around first.” He left her leaning her head against the door frame, turned on the lights and searched. He opened closet doors, inspected windows, checked the bath, looked under the bed. �śNo snakes?” Kayla said from the doorway. �śNo rodents?” �śDust bunnies is about it.” �śI can live with them.” She stumbled over to the bed and collapsed on it, sprawling on top of the spread. �śLet me put on fresh sheets first,” Paul said, going to the linen cabinet and pulling out a set. �śToo late,” she mumbled, and with that, she was asleep. He put a clean case on one of the pillows, gently lifted her head and set the pillow under it. Then he removed her boots and covered her with blankets. When he was done, he pulled a rocking chair up to the side of the bed and sat in it, prepared to guard her all night. He was surprised when she raised her eyelids just enough to make eye contact with him and said, sleep slurring her words, �śWhat did you want to tell me?” �śWhat?” �śBefore, on the porch. Something important, you said.” �śOh.” He’d nearly forgotten. �śIt’ll wait.” �śOkay.” One more smile and then she was asleep again. He dozed fitfully for a while, then gave up on trying to sleep at all. He had to keep Kayla safe. He stayed awake the rest of the night, listening for intruders, for sounds of anything that might give him a clue as to what the hell was going on. Chapter 11 Kayla awoke to birdsong, and a chill in the air that made her snuggle more deeply into her blankets. At first, she wasn’t quite sure where she was. The last thing she remembered was sipping tea on the porch with Paul. There was something more, she knew in the deep recesses of her unconsciousness, but then�"poof!�"it was gone. Later, she decided drowsily, and closed her eyes again. Some time later she opened them once more, this time to the sound of men talking outside. She gazed around her; she was in the grandpa cabin. That’s right. Paul had insisted. When she threw back the covers, she found she was still wearing her clothes from the night before. Wrinkled, of course, but they were all she had. When she wandered outside, the sun hurt her eyes, so she shaded them with her hand and gazed around her. She found Hank and Paul climbing up the steep hillside just beyond the porch, Hank saying, �śNah, it’s just some rotting wood. Happens up here like that sometimes. We can shore it up with some temporary plywood today, and then I’ll call the company that everyone uses when it comes to their foundations. Nothing to worry about.” When they were on level ground again, he saw Kayla, nodded. �śMorning, Miz Thorne.” �śGood morning. Or is it afternoon?” She stretched and yawned, then made a face. �śOops. Sorry. I slept so deeply.” She turned her attention to Paul, smiling at him. �śWhat’s up?” she asked him. He seemed preoccupied, shaking his head slowly, frowning. �śHank’s the expert, but I don’t know. There are some marks in the wood supports of the house. Looks to me like they could have been made by a hatchet or something with a sharp blade.” �śNah,” Hank said. �śWood cracks that way sometimes, that’s all.” Kayla was still focused on Paul. �śYou think they were made on purpose?” �śWell, it could be.” �śBut why?” Hank asked. Paul looked at the other man. �śThere have been some strange things going on here, Hank.” �śLike what?” He briefly summarized the incidents�"the noises, the attack on Bailey, the snake. �śIt’s like Kayla’s under attack, and I’m worried.” �śOh, wow,” Hank replied, rubbing his unshaven jawline. Troubled, he shook his head. �śI didn’t know.” He turned to Kayla. �śGee, Paul could be right, Miz Thorne. Maybe what’s happening under the porch was done on purpose.” �śI was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” �śKayla,” Paul said. �śFor the last time, please. You need to leave here.” �śHe’s right, Miz Thorne. It’s not safe.” In the clear light of day, Kayla knew the two men were making sense, but there was still that stubborn streak in her that had decided never to run away from threats to her well-being again. Currently, that streak of stubbornness was doing battle with her basic common sense. Hank drove his point home. �śHeck, Miz Thorne, this was happening to me, I’d be out of here so fast you’d have trouble seeing me for the dust.” The sound of the phone ringing in the house made her raise an index finger. �śHold that thought,” she told them, then scurried off to answer it. When she was out of earshot, Hank grabbed Paul’s arm. �śYou gotta get her away, Paul. She’s too fine a lady to have something bad happen to her.” �śI know it,” he agreed grimly. �śYou bring in the cops yet?” �śThey were here on Saturday and yesterday, but they’re as clueless as we are. I called them this morning, pushed them on finding fingerprints, tracking down the sender of the package. All I got for my troubles was a polite �Śbuzz off.’” �śAny idea who’s doing this?” Paul felt so frustrated, he wanted to put his fist through a tree trunk. �śIt could be her stepson, could be her brother, hell, it could be any number of people. I don’t know a lot about her other life�"the one she lived with her husband.” Hank’s expression was equally grim. �śWell, you’re a trained investigator, so it’s good you’re on the case. The Thornes are special folks.” Terrific, Paul thought. Not just Kayla, but now Hank was looking at him with expectation. Do something, Paul. Fix it. Like he was specially qualified. Like he would save the day. The truth was, he felt totally helpless. Helpless. He heard the word in his head and it just fueled his rage at himself. When had Paul Fitzgerald let himself be rendered helpless? When there was a problem, he usually rolled up his sleeves and got to setting it right. That’s how he’d survived his trial, gotten through the years in jail. Down, depressed, sometimes, sure. Bitter. Angry. All of those, sure. But never helpless. �śDammit, Hank, you’re right. I don’t care what she says, I’m keeping her away from this place until there’s no more danger. I’ve already got a couple of my cop friends in Albany trying to trace her brother. I’ll ask them to expand the investigation, track down leads, check out all her enemies.” His brain was racing so fast now, it took him a minute to realize the other man was looking at him, his head cocked to one side, a smile on his face. �śWell, well, well. Falling for her, aren’t you.” �śWhy are you grinning?” �śJust congratulating myself. I’ve been helping ex-cons for years.” He tucked his fingertips in his hip pockets, rocked back and forth. �śFirst time I’ve been a matchmaker.” �śShut up,” Paul grumbled. Kayla walked toward them from the house. �śIt looks like you gentlemen are going to get your wish. I have to go to Albany for a couple of days.” �śWhy?” Paul asked. �śLegal stuff. Steven is really acting up and my attorney wants to discuss our next move. I think it’s time I talked to Joe about his brother. Walter would hate what’s happening to the family. I called Lou and she’ll keep Bailey for a few more days. I’m going to get dressed and take off.” �śHow about you go with her?” Hank suggested to Paul, then directed the next part to Kayla. �śThat is, if Miz Thorne wouldn’t mind the company.” �śI’d love it.” �śBut we need to shore up the porch,” Paul said. �śI’ll get a couple of my other guys to help me.” With another sly grin, Hank slapped Paul on the back. �śHey, you’re good, but you’re not indispensable. Why don’t you go and see your dad? And a couple of your friends?” His emphasis on the last word was in reference to what they’d been discussing. He nodded. �śYeah, you’re right.” �śIn fact, while you’re gone, I’ll get the foundation guys up here, have them inspect the whole thing.” Grim-faced, Hank told Kayla, �śWe’ll stand guard on the property, too, Miz Thorne. Night and day. How’s that?” �śExcellent.” She clapped her hands. �śDo it, Hank. I authorize you to spend whatever you think is necessary. And from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.” He waved away the gratitude. �śYou stay away a couple�"three days, okay? By the end of the week, we’ll be shipshape. Go on, you two, get out of here.” Kayla looked at Paul. �śFifteen minutes?” He nodded but something was troubling him. A trip to Albany was the right thing to do, on many levels�"Kayla’s safety, trying to crack the mystery, seeing his dad and his brothers. Even so, and he had no idea why, he had the feeling he was playing right into the hands of whoever was doing this. The thought of leaving the Thorne property filled him with a sense of foreboding. As though, if he did, he might never see it again. Which was not only stupid but downright melodramatic. He shook off the feeling. �śFifteen minutes,” he agreed. �śYou can do the driving, if you’d like.” �śHey, no need to ask me twice.” Their first stop was Lou’s clinic in Susanville, which was located on the ground floor of a two-story, Victorian-era duplex that stood out on a street of characterless storefronts like a high-bred woman on the unemployment line. Unable to wait, Kayla waved at the receptionist, Dorothy, then quickly hurried past her desk to the boarding-hospital wing, converted out of two former bedrooms. Bailey slept on blankets in a roomy cage, his little torso shaved and wrapped in bandages. The two clinic cats, Homer and Jethro, wound themselves around Kayla’s feet as she watched her pet’s deep, even breathing. �śOh, Bailey,” she whispered, forgetting that he couldn’t hear her. �śYou look so tiny.” Lou came up to her, wearing a colorful smock patterned with jungle animals. �śHey, he looks worse than he is.” �śHe’s still going to be okay?” Kayla asked. �śPromise. You can pet him. He’d like that.” She opened the cage door for her, and Kayla put her hand on the tiny dog’s head and scratched it. Bailey’s one eye opened and she could swear he smiled at her. She felt his rough little tongue on the fleshy area of her palm as she continued to scratch around his ears. �śGood boy,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. �śThe best boy.” Lou patted Kayla’s shoulder. �śTake as long as you like.” Arms folded across his chest, Paul studied a wall chart that had pictures of all kinds of dog breeds. Man, did he feel totally out of place. He was too damned big for his surroundings. When he and Kayla had entered the clinic and she’d gone off to see Bailey, he’d been told to hang out either in the dog waiting room or the cat waiting room. He’d chosen to be with the canines�"more of a guy place, he figured. Except there were several women seated in there, holding the leashes of various-size dogs. And all of them, human and beast, seemed to be staring at him. �śPaul.” He was relieved to hear the voice of Kayla’s friend Lou. He turned and walked to the half door that led to the reception area. �śHello,” he said. �śBailey okay?” The redhead nodded. �śKayla’s with him now.” �śGood.” She gave him what could only be called an appraising look, then said, �śCome with me for a minute, okay?” �śSure.” He opened the half door, closed it behind him, and followed her down a short hallway and into a small private office. Once there, she shut the door behind them and turned to face him, her back to the desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She was maybe five feet tall, so as she gazed up at him, nothing friendly or welcoming about her in the least, he was struck again by that sense of being way too big for the room. �śYes?” he said, not sure what he’d done to deserve her palpable animosity. �śKayla is a really good friend of mine.” �śShe told me.” �śDid she? Well then, I also want you to know that if you’re using her in any way, if you hurt her, I don’t care how many years you spent in jail or how tough you are, I’ll come after you and I’ll hurt you.” Coming from anyone else, a threat of this kind would usually arouse Paul’s need to defend himself by striking back with threats of his own. But this time he didn’t have the urge to retaliate; in fact he had to stifle the urge to laugh. Such a huge threat from such a very small woman. It was hard to take it seriously. Although meeting the veterinarian’s severe, smileless, brown-eyed gaze, he understood that she meant every word she said. �śKayla’s lucky,” he told her, �śto have a loyal friend like you.” Which threw the vet for a loop, he could tell. �śDid you hear what I said?” �śYeah. And I understand, given my background, that you don’t trust me.” He shrugged �śHey, I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to stand here and defend myself. All I want you to know is that Kayla needs friends like you, and I’m glad you’re in her life.” The former belligerence of Lou’s expression was now replaced with puzzlement. Paul nodded to her, then opened the office door and walked out. They were about ten minutes outside of Susanville, on Highway 209, when Kayla glanced over at Paul, who was driving. He seemed to be thinking, hard, looking straight ahead, his profile stern and unsmiling. �śPaul?” �śHmm?” �śTell me about your wife.” She’d had no idea she was going to ask that until it popped out of her mouth. �śRuth?” �śWas that her name? Was it a good marriage? I mean up till it wasn’t anymore?” He lifted one shoulder. �śNot really. It was all about sex, and when that went, there was nothing much left. Then, when I got arrested, she said she hadn’t signed on for trouble like that, so she took off. Yeah, Hank and I have that in common�"wives who took off, instead of standing by their men.” �śDo you hate her?” �śI did. Not anymore. She’s history. Too much has happened since then.” �śI see. Do you mind if I ask you something else?” �śHey, I’m a prisoner in your car,” he said, one side of his mouth turned up. �śHave your way with me.” �śYesterday. Last night. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?” His mouth firmed up again; for several moments he seemed to withdraw to someplace inside himself. Then his facial muscles relaxed as he inhaled a deep breath, blew it out and nodded. �śSure. Okay.” He shot her a quick, worried glance. �śBut before I say anything, I want you to know that you, your safety, is really important to me. So whatever I tell you has nothing to do with that.” �śWith the fact that my safety is important to you?” �śThat you are important to me. I think, I hope, even though I’m not real good at, you know, the mushy stuff, that I’ve made that clear.” She liked hearing that, and warmth flooded her. �śYes, you have. And in case you couldn’t tell, the feeling is mutual.” �śGood. So�Ś” Again, his expression turned grim. �śHere’s the thing. Uh, it’s kind of a confession.” �śOh.” �śYeah. It wasn’t by chance that I came to work at your place. I knew who you were already.” �śSo does most of New York State. I was all over the news.” �śYeah, well, apart from that. I mean, I had my reasons for wanting the job. I needed the work, don’t get me wrong, but I could have gotten out of jail and headed right up to Albany, done some more restoration construction, like I used to on my days off. It pays a lot better than working for Hank does.” �śThen why didn’t you?” �śI�Śwanted to get close to you.” �śOh.” Out of nowhere, Kayla flashed on her conversation the evening before with Lou. The money. Was that it? And had she been totally off base, thinking that aspect of who she was hadn’t been important to him? �śAnd why did you want to get close to me, exactly?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. �śYour brother. Jay.” �śJay?” This came totally out of left field. �śWhat about him?” �śI needed to find out where he was, and I thought you might know.” �śWhy? Did you know him from before?” �śI never saw him before he took the stand,” he said grimly, �śand accused me of pilfering dope from the evidence room, then selling it on the street.” Her mouth fell open in shock. �śJay did that?” �śYes.” �śBut why?” As he raised one black eyebrow, Paul’s voice reeked cynicism as he said, �śHe got paid off, of course. But I don’t know or care about his reasons. I just needed to find him, to get the truth out of him, hopefully to make him recant his testimony.” �śAnd when you got out of jail, you couldn’t find him?” �śHe had disappeared right after my trial and no one knew where he was.” �śIn Europe, is what he told me.” He nodded. �śAmsterdam, I bet. It’s a Mecca for druggies. He probably got a pretty big payoff for his testimony. In fact, he was probably told to get lost for a while.” �śSo you wanted to get to me, to see if I knew where he was.” �śYes. Hank had come to the prison to talk to the upcoming parolees about his program, and I heard him. When I found out where his shop was located, I couldn’t believe it. See, I already knew about your summer place up here�"my lawyer had thoroughly researched you, because of your connection to Jay.” �śI see.” She was reeling from being taken unaware. Why hadn’t he told her this before? �śIt was pure luck that you were up here at that time and needed work done.” �śPure luck, indeed.” �śIf that hadn’t happened, I would have found another way of getting to you.” �śYes, I guess you would have.” All kinds of feelings were roiling around inside her. Surprise, of course. Hurt was there, too. And that old trusty standby, self-doubt. She’d known this man for a week, the last two days quite intimately, and she hadn’t picked up on the fact that he’d been lying to her. Because that’s what it was. Oh, sure, she’d sensed there were some dark areas of his life he wasn’t ready to share with her, but she’d figured he had a right to those; everyone did. She just hadn’t expected outright lies. �śIt must not have gone down real well,” she said slowly, �śwhen you found out I don’t keep in touch with my family.” �śYeah. I was pretty bummed out that day.” �śI can imagine you were.” It came out flat, and he darted a sharp, questioning glance at her, as though wondering if she was being sarcastic. �śGo on,” she said. �śI�Śuh�Śhung around, anyway, because I thought you might know something even if you weren’t aware of it. Something that would give me a hint.” �śAnd then Jay called me and I told you about it. You must have been in heaven.” Again he shot her a worried glance. Then he scowled. �śNot really. Heaven and your brother don’t belong in the same sentence.” �śYou know what I mean,” she snapped, and it was only then that she realized the depth of her hurt. �śYeah, I do.” She sat in her soft leather seat in her luxurious car, her head whirling as she tried to digest all of this, and gazed out the window. Cars rushed by, Paul passed others. On either side of the small highway were lush farmland, green hills, a river. But she didn’t really see any of it. The hurt invaded her very being: bones, muscles, tissue. Paul had wanted the job, had fought for it and gotten it, so he could discover Jay’s whereabouts. Not because he’d felt that connection to her, the one that she’d experienced toward him from that first day. Had it all been one-sided, in her head? Had she, in her loneliness, invented a fantasy? No, of course she hadn’t, she assured herself. That sexual sizzle between them wasn’t her imagination, of that she was sure. And she was also pretty sure she believed him when he said she was important to him. Despite the fact that he sure wasn’t real good with the �śmushy stuff,” there had been too many moments of unguarded tenderness from him to be anything else. Although, in the light of his confession, not as sure as she’d like to be. Rigorous self-honesty time, Kayla told herself. Time to get beyond the wounded ego and ancient self-doubt and to consider just what he’d told her. When she did, there was one unavoidable conclusion to be drawn: had she been in Paul’s place, she might have done the same thing, searched out a way to get to a false witness, one who had robbed him of four years of his life and, most probably, his career. But he’d lied to her, pretended he didn’t know who Jay was when she brought him up, played the innocent. People lied to each other all the time, this was not new, but just because it was commonplace didn’t make it acceptable. Not to her. Lies were hurtful. She hurt. She angled her body to face him. �śWhen you heard how I felt about Jay, that my family and I have nothing to do with one another, why didn’t you tell me then?” He shook his head. �śI don’t know. At first it was one of those situations where you hesitate to bad-mouth someone, an ex or friend or a family member, in case the person isn’t ready to hear the negative stuff from someone else. You know, it’s okay for me to put my ex or my friend or my mother down, but you keep hands-off.” She considered this. �śOkay, that was at first. How about after that? Why didn’t you tell me then? You had plenty of chances, Paul.” He had the grace to look chagrined. �śBecause by then, we were�Śinvolved, and I didn’t want to mess with that. I thought you might feel that I’d, you know, used you.” �śDidn’t you?” �śIn a manner of speaking, I suppose I did. But only at first. And only before I really knew you.” �śI see.” She lapsed again into silence and stared, once more, out the side window. All his explanations were reasonable, and yet, deep in her heart, she felt hurt. She’d trusted him, come to count on him. After she’d gotten past Paul’s hard shell, she’d come to think of him as, well, sturdy. Reliable. A good listener. Compassionate, too. And, of course, he’d been a bone-meltingly, beyond-anyone’s-wildest-dreams lover. Had she begun to worship him? Put him on a pedestal? Had she not taken the time to see that he was, like her, all too human? She felt his worried gaze on her, but she didn’t return it, still locked somewhere deep inside, figuring things out, getting past the emotions to the core. After more time passed, Paul said, �śI’m so sorry.” She said nothing. More time passed before he said, �śYou’re taking this very well.” �śHow did you expect me to take it?” He shrugged. �śMost women, I mean, most people�"” �śYou mean most women.” �śOkay, yeah, most women would get all bent out of shape, make a scene about betrayal and not being able to trust. You know, scream at me for keeping something like that a secret.” �śI don’t know about most women,” she said evenly, turning her head to gaze at him. �śOnly myself. And I have to admit that one part of me does feel like scratching your eyes out.” �śOh.” �śAnd another part of me completely understands.” He whooshed out a breath, as though he’d been holding it in, waiting. �śYeah. I figured, well, I hoped you would.” �śAlthough I’m not real happy about it.” �śI figured you wouldn’t be.” Again, she stared out the side window. An old, dented flatbed truck passed them, loud salsa music blaring from it, sounding incongruous up here, among the green hills that formed part of the Catskills mountain range. �śWhy are you telling me now?” she asked him. He reached across the seat and took one of her hands in his much larger one. She almost yanked it away from him, but then decided not to. Instead, she faced him, giving Paul her complete attention. �śBecause it’s been bothering me, more and more. And well, because I may have had one reason for wanting to be near you, in the beginning. But, now there are more.” �śAnd they are?” He emitted an aggrieved sigh. �śDo I have to say it?” �śSay what?” She was needling him now, wanting him to squirm. He deserved it. He mumbled a particularly descriptive curse word under his breath, following it up with �śSorry.” �śI’ve heard it before. You were saying?” �śThat I�Śhave feelings for you. That I�Ścare about you, okay? A lot. That you’re important to me. That I still want to find Jay, but more than anything, I want you safe.” �śHmm. Pretty impressive.” He frowned at her. He most definitely did not know how to interpret her current attitude toward him. Which made two of them. He �ścared” about her. Good. And whatever self-doubt she still walked around with from a childhood totally bereft of any words of praise, anyone to boost her self-esteem, she believed she was �śimportant” to him. Also good. But she wanted more. What she wanted to hear was Kayla, I love you. Closing her eyes, she groaned, but silently. Was that what was going on here? Had she fallen in love with this man? But how was that possible? She’d known him, what? A week? And he’d been lying to her for that entire time. Was she that needy? �śYou okay?” Paul’s question snapped her out of her musings. �śPlease believe me, Kayla. Everything I’ve told you is the truth.” �śYes. I think it is.” �śSo then, are we okay now?” She studied his face, the expression on it a variation of one she’d seen only briefly before. Vulnerability. To her. Need. For her. It was genuine, and it was enough for now. She sighed. �śI’m glad you told me, Paul. And I’m pretty sure, in time, I’ll be fine with it. But you need to know that I don’t give my trust easily.” �śYeah, I get that.” �śI trusted you. So, if you ever pull something like this, if you keep something important from me again, it will be the end of this�Śwhatever we have.” He took that in, thought about it for a moment, then nodded. �śGot it.” She wasn’t finished. �śAnd as far as I’m concerned, if Jay lied about you to get you into jail, he deserves to be punished for it.” �śEven if he’s your brother?” �śEven if. The only thing is�Ś” She let the thought trail off. �śWhat?” �śI want you to let the law deal with him. I don’t want you to hurt him when you find him.” He worked the muscles of his jaw, that telltale sign of barely banked rage. �śWhat I do to your brother is my business.” She refused to back down. �śI’m afraid it’s mine, too. He may be a bust as a brother and as a human being, but I would hate to see him�"or anyone�"physically hurt, unless it’s in self-defense. I’m asking you, Paul.” �śAnd I hear you.” And thank you for sharing was what he didn’t add. She could push it, perhaps. Paul was in apology mode; she could try to exact a promise from him that he wouldn’t use his fists. But she also knew that, in the heat of the moment, he might not remember his promise, or might not even care that he’d made it. It was who he was. She closed her eyes, let the sounds of traffic whizzing by on the highway blot out the bad feeling left by the end of their conversation. Vengeance. The very sound of the word had a thick red color to it. The color of blood. Chapter 12 She must have dozed because when she opened her eyes again, they were on the New York State Thruway, Interstate 87, on the outskirts of Albany. The land around them was all flat plains, so different from the lush mountains of the early part of the trip. Paul glanced over at her. �śGood, you’re up. Where to now? We’re almost there.” �śI guess to the house, Walter’s and my house, I mean. It’s farther up, near Troy.” �śIs it safe?” �śWhat do you mean?” �śIf someone wants to come after you, is it safe there?” She scratched her head. �śI hadn’t thought about it.” �śWell, think about it. Please.” He seemed tense, keyed up. �śPaul?” �śIt’s just that we didn’t make any plans. To keep you safe. I should have made plans.” �śHow could you? This was a last-minute trip, there was barely time to catch our breath.” �śYeah, yeah, I know. So let’s take care of it now, okay? Tell me about the house.” He was all business. No more Paul the apologist or Paul the lover; in its place was Paul the cop. And his concern was getting her concern going. For some reason, as they’d come down from the mountain and gotten farther away from the house, the tight knot of tension inside her had eased up; she’d nearly forgotten the fact that she might be in danger. A foolish thing to forget�"wishful thinking at its most active. She bit her bottom lip. �śThere’s a couple who live in, but I gave them vacation time, so there’s no one there.” �śIs there an alarm system? A nearby police station?” �śNo.” He shook his head. �śThen you can’t stay there.” It wasn’t up for discussion�"he was issuing orders. Ordinarily she would chafe at that, but she knew he was looking out for her and she was grateful. �śAll right, what do you suggest?” �śA hotel. A good one, the kind where they won’t give out your room number without checking with you first.” She thought it over. �śAs it happens, it might be better if I did that, anyway. The house is pretty far out into the suburbs and most of my business is downtown, so it’s a good idea to stay closer in. All right. I’ll go to the Empire State Hotel.” �śThat’s right near my old precinct.” �śThen that works out great, doesn’t it?” She got her cell phone out of her purse and called information for the number of the hotel. Paul had thought, hoped, that after he’d made his little confession to Kayla, after he’d let her know he had feelings for her, that he would feel relieved of a great burden. And for a few brief moments, it had worked. But then she’d had to bring up the matter of what he planned to do to Jay, which had upset her and made him feel surly. Add to that the fact that she was heading into a city, where the possibilities of attack on her person were too numerous to think about, and anything upbeat about the day was history. They hadn’t been followed; he’d checked periodically in the rearview mirror and he’d always been good at detecting tails. But that didn’t mean the danger wouldn’t be there, ahead of them, and he was worried. That same odd feeling he’d experienced earlier, that of his and Kayla’s movements having been choreographed, was with him again. They were supposed to leave the mountain, supposed to come to Albany. Were they leaving danger or heading for it? He was tense and worried, and he knew she was, too, which meant the ease of conversation he’d come to enjoy with Kayla was nowhere to be found. There was a wall between them, thicker than glass bricks. She hadn’t completely forgiven him, not yet. He’d have to work hard to make sure she did. He exited the highway, making his way across the bridge that spanned the Hudson River, heading toward the old part of town. �śKayla?” he said, after she’d put her phone back in her purse. �śYes?” �śI want to, I mean I need to stay with you, at the hotel. Make sure nothing happens to you.” She shot him a long, level gaze, then offered up a small smile. �śIs that the only reason you want to stay with me at the hotel? I had thought there might be another.” And like that, the ice was broken. Whew. �śRoom service?” She laughed. �śOh. So that’s what they call it now.” �śYou are bad,” he said, chuckling. �śAnybody ever tell you that?” �śAnd you, Paul Fitzgerald, actually laughed! I saw teeth! Run up the flag, sing songs of joy.” �śOkay, okay. Don’t rub it in.” He reached over, took her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. �śSo, straight to the hotel, right? I’m glad we’ll be sleeping together.” �śDitto. Especially in a bed where I don’t have to worry about scary noises and rats being dropped off at night.” He let go of her hand and placed it on his thigh, patting it. �śI wondered if you’d forgive me.” �śI’ve decided to be extremely generous about all past sins,” she said grandly. �śI shall let you make it up to me.” She moved her hand along his thigh, using her fingernails to scratch the taut denim of his jeans. The various hard muscles beneath the material contracted briefly. Not to mention the flesh between his thighs, which leaped to sudden attention. Paul hissed in a quick breath. �śIs this how you intend to let me make it up to you? By letting you touch me wherever you want to?” �śDon’t you like it?” she whispered. �śHmm.” �śShall I move a little higher?” �śNot if you want to get there in one piece.” He clamped his hand over hers, stopping her upward trajectory. �śI’m not good at what they call multitasking.” �śWell, darn.” �śBut once we get to the hotel, I’ll let you put your hands anywhere you want to.” She glanced at her watch. �śOh, shoot. My appointment with my lawyer is in an hour.” Damn. So much for foreplay. �śI’m going with you. I’ll wait for you.” �śBut you wanted to see your dad.” �śI’ll call from the hotel. Have him meet me. We can get a drink while you’re at your appointment.” �śIf you insist. But, Paul, aren’t you being just a bit over-protective?” �śMaybe. Better safe than sorry, as my granddad used to say.” �śYou actually had a grandfather who said real corny stuff like that?” �śSure did.” �śYou are so lucky.” Bringing her hand to his mouth, he kissed her knuckles. �śYes I am. More and more every day.” The room was large, the bed spacious. High curtained windows blocked the street below from view. Paul gazed around him. It was the first luxurious surroundings he’d experienced since getting out. It felt good, even with that twinge of irritation he felt in his gut that Kayla was paying for everything. It was temporary, he told himself, and he had to be satisfied with that. He watched as she bustled around the room, unpacking her small suitcase. In the fifteen minutes between the time they’d decided to go to Albany and their actual departure, she’d managed to stuff an amazing amount in there. While she was arranging cosmetics in the bathroom, he sprawled on the bed and made his calls. The first was to his dad, whom he arranged to meet at the bar on the first floor of the Old Penn Central Station, now converted to offices, including the one belonging to Kayla’s lawyer. Then he called Brian Kaye at his old precinct, who told him, �śWe got your trace. Jay Goodall is back in Albany.” Paul felt a surge of excitement. If Kayla’s brother was around, he would find him�"he knew all the druggie haunts, could access snitches from the past. �śHey, good work. I’ve got a bunch of other stuff I’d like to talk to you about. I plan on coming in tomorrow. Will you and Charley be in?” �śWe’ll be here, but I wouldn’t count too much on a warm welcome reception.” �śWho cares?” Paul responded. �śI’m coming in.” �śWhat’s up, Paul?” his dad asked him. �śYou keep looking at the entrance. Are you expecting company?” They were seated at a small table in a dark bar. It was late afternoon and cocktail hour, so the place was pretty crowded. Two large TVs were wall-mounted, one tuned to CNN, the other to a Yankees game. Paul took a sip of his Scotch before he replied. �śYeah. Someone I want you to meet.” His father’s eyes twinkled at him for the first time in nearly five years. �śWhich was why you asked for the clothes,” he said, pointing to the garment bag lying across the back of the third chair at their table. Inside was one of Paul’s old sports jackets, a pair of pants, a shirt, tie, dress shoes and socks. �śYeah.” Paul could only hope, after all these years, the clothes would still fit. Lucas Fitzgerald was not a tall man�"Paul had gotten his height from his mother’s side of the family�"but he had natural stature. In his early sixties, with thick silver hair and the naturally ruddy complexion of his Irish forebears, he had a stocky frame that was mostly muscle and large, capable hands. And a broad, toothy smile that exuded confidence and cheer; all his life, Paul, not naturally upbeat by nature, had gone to his father for inspiration and hope. Lucas was smiling now, his pale blue eyes, even in the darkened room, crinkling with happiness. �śIs she special, then?” He’d given his father no details about Kayla, hadn’t even mentioned her name. �śVery.” �śThen my prayers have been answered. My son is out of jail, and he’s in love.” �śI wouldn’t go that far, Dad.” �śThen he’s in �Ślike.’ A fine start.” It never failed; when Lucas grinned, you couldn’t help grinning back. Which was how Kayla found them, chuckling over some joke, the bond of affection between them palpable. The minute they saw her, both men stood. �śThis is Kayla,” Paul said. �śKayla, this is my dad, Lucas.” �śHello,” she said to Paul’s father, who shook her hand, then winked at his son. �śHere, Kayla, take a seat.” The garment bag was on one of the chairs, so Lucas pulled up another, helped her into her chair. �śI see where Paul gets his manners from.” �śI raised my boys to be polite.” �śWell, you did a great job.” After Kayla was settled, both men sat down, Paul signaling the waiter as he did. �śWhat would you like to drink?” he asked. �śWhite wine, dry.” While Paul ordered hers and another round for him�"his dad declined�"Lucas grinned at her. �śMind if I say that you’re lovely?” �śMind? I love it.” She grinned back. �śI can see where Paul gets his looks from, too.” �śNah. He’s his late mother all over again, male version. Now, she was a beauty. Dark and mysterious. She walked in the room and every man’s jaw dropped. Paul takes after her in the charisma department.” Kayla glanced at the subject of their conversation. He was scowling. �śYes. How could any woman resist that fierce frown?” �śCut it out,” Paul said. �śChange the subject.” Chuckling, Lucas rose, grabbed a jacket from the back of his chair. �śI wish I could stay. I wanted to meet you, Kayla. Rachel�"that’s my wife�"is waiting at the Crossgates Mall right now, for me to pick her up. I shudder to think what she’s bought. Both of you, come over to the house for dinner, and soon.” He shook Paul’s hand, kissed Kayla’s cheek and took off. Kayla watched as he walked out of the bar, jaunty, youthful, filled with energy. Then she looked at Paul. �śHe’s wonderful.” �śYeah.” The drinks arrived and he raised his glass, so she lifted hers. �śI want to make a toast, but there are so many things to toast, I don’t know which one to choose. Getting out of jail? Meeting you? Sitting in a bar with a beautiful woman? Getting to share a king-size bed with that woman?” �śToo many choices,” she said. �śTo us.” They clinked glasses and drank. �śAnd to your upcoming birthday,” Paul said. �śWhen is it?” �śThursday. I’ll be thirty.” �śThen here’s to the day you were born. A fine day, especially for me.” �śFor you?” �śIf you hadn’t been born I wouldn’t have met you. And that would have been way too sad to even think about.” He clinked her glass again. �śHappy birthday, beautiful lady.” It was such a lovely, touching moment, Kayla thought, one that could almost erase the unease she still had about Steven after meeting with her lawyer. And the strange, terrifying incidents back in Cragsmont. And the fact that she was falling in love with a man who could be soft one moment and enraged the next. �śWhat’s in there?” She pointed to the garment bag. �śSome clothes. I thought we could have dinner tonight. A nice dinner at the hotel. A kind of celebration.” �śWonderful.” Which it was, despite the fact that Paul’s shoulders were bursting out of his jacket and he could barely get his shirt buttoned over his chest; all the body-building work he’d done in the penitentiary had had quite an effect. They drank a little too much and ate a little too much. All of it by soft candlelight at a table draped with a starched white cloth and set with fine silver. Kayla couldn’t help giggling at the way he had to keep adjusting his tie to cover the straining shirt buttons. And Paul kept shaking his head at his good luck, to be sitting across from a soft, pretty woman in a simple black dress and gold earrings. He was mesmerized by the glow of her face in the candlelight and the swell of her breasts above the modestly scooped neckline, offering sweet hints of the treasure beneath the fabric. They finished the meal with a shared fresh chocolate mousse and coffee. When the waiter brought the bill and Kayla reached for it, Paul stopped her hand. Digging into his pocket, he brought out several bills and set them down. �śOh,” she said. �śI thought I’d put it on the room bill.” �śNo need. I’ll pay. It’s your birthday dinner.” �śOh. Well, thanks.” �śWhich brings up something I need to talk to you about.” �śYes?” �śI hate that you’re paying for everything.” She shrugged. �śI’m the one with the money. At the moment.” �śYeah.” He shook his head. �śBut it doesn’t feel right.” �śNow that I’ve met your dad I can understand why. You’re one of those old-fashioned, gallant types. Men pay, women let them.” �śThat’s an exaggeration.” �śIs it? Then I stand corrected. It’s just that nowadays, it’s often the women who have the money and somehow people adjust.” �śI know they do. And honestly, Kayla, I don’t think I’d mind if I could, at least, pay my own way. It’s just that I can’t even do that.” This was tough stuff, but he had to get it out. �śI promised to tell you the truth, and here it is. I have nothing. My dad lent me money for tonight. I don’t even have enough to buy you a gift. My lawyer fees took up whatever Ruth didn’t grab. I’m totally broke.” He saw no disappointment or surprise, only acceptance in her pretty blue eyes. �śIt’s temporary, Paul. I know the kind of man you are. As soon as you can, you’ll be earning a living again. You can pay your way then, if that would make you happy. Okay?” He felt himself scowling. What she said made sense, but that didn’t mean it sat well. �śLook,” she said, �śI had this very conversation with Walter. I came from nothing, and I still had thousands of dollars in student loan debts when I met him. And, even though most people think a woman who meets and marries a rich man has it made, I was never really comfortable with that part.” �śWhich proves my point. Either way, financial inequality is a problem.” �śIt can be. We talked it out. Walter said we needed to accept people as they were, not as they wished they were. That he accepted who I was, scarred from a past rape and with student loans, and I needed to accept him as past his prime, arthritis-ridden and given to occasional bouts of crankiness. That we both had positive qualities�"assets, he called them�"and we should concentrate on those. That only one of his assets was money, and that I had many assets that were equally valuable. That the emphasis on money was superficial.” �śBut real as hell if you have none.” More Walter-the-Wise, he thought, chafing under the dead man’s shadow. Did it never end? �śHey, I grew up poor, remember?” She had him there. To some extent, she knew just how he was feeling. But dammit, nothing she was saying, reasonable as it sounded on the surface, made him feel much better. She was right, he was an old-fashioned man, and he probably wouldn’t change much. And if he wasn’t careful, his stupid male pride was going to destroy the evening. He stood, held out a hand to her. �śOkay, let’s table that for another time. I need to get you naked.” Laughing, Kayla rose and threw her arms around him. �śI thought you’d never ask,” she said, then whispered in his ear, �śAnd here’s a hint�"I’m not wearing anything under my dress.” His body responded immediately. He grabbed her hand and ushered her out of the restaurant. He began to make love to her in the elevator, which was, thankfully, empty of other passengers. Began with slow, languid kisses, which escalated and grew more intense as they neared the door of the room. Once inside, neither could get their clothes off fast enough, or manage to make it to the bed. Instead, still greedily tasting her mouth with his tongue, Paul backed Kayla against the closed door, put her arms around his neck, broke the kiss long enough to tell her to hang on and brought her legs up so they encircled his waist. Supporting her with his splayed hands, he plunged into her immediately, savoring the moan of pleasure she made. Again and again, he plunged into her; she met his insistent thrusts with equally eager hips. There was no time for foreplay, no room for subtlety. They were, each of them, on fire, and within moments, both burst into flame, their cries of completion filling the far corners of the room, echoing off the high, slanted ceiling. Together, they sank onto the deep carpet, Kayla on top of Paul, straddling him, her exhausted, labored breath rasping in his ear. His senses were whirling, his body was shaking, and his entire being was giving thanks for the treasure he had found. After a long while, Kayla emitted a long, loud sigh. �śWow,” she said softly. �śYeah.” Another few moments went by before he said, �śI think that may have been the closest thing to heaven it’s possible to experience, short of death.” �śI couldn’t have said it better myself.” Another silence, broken at last by Paul. �śWe should get into bed, but I don’t think I can walk.” �śWe can crawl.” Somehow, they dragged themselves over to the large four-poster and crawled under the covers, hugging each other and shaking in the aftermath of so much exertion. �śIs this thing we have together considered an asset?” he whispered in her ear. �śMost definitely. And you have so many more.” �śLike what?” She moved away from him, just a bit, and lay on her side, her head resting on her outstretched arm, gazing at him with a look that could only be described as adoration. He’d meant his question as part of after-glow pillow talk, but it was apparent that Kayla was totally serious. �śLike the way you stare at me, through me, into my very soul. Like your good heart and strong body. The way you listen and really hear. Your ability to give to me, the fact that you keep taking care of me, the fact that you dance with me even when you don’t want to.” �śNot to mention my incredible prowess in the sack.” She traced his mouth with her finger. �śBragging again. It’s not pretty.” �śNot bragging. Just stating an asset.” She rolled over, fitted her back to his front, brought his hand around to cup her breast. �śHave I told you lately that I’m crazy about your assets?” He smiled, kissed her milk-white shoulder. They lay like that, spooned against each other, for a long while. �śThis money thing,” he began. �śOh, Paul, don’t.” He knew he was screwing up the moment, but it was still on his mind, sticking in his gut. �śYour having money is not an asset. It’s a detriment.” �śHow?” �śWhat other people think. Like Hank. He thinks I’ve landed on my feet. A rich widow�"how lucky can a guy get?” With another sigh, she moved out of the cocoon of his embrace and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. �śI know. Lou suggested the same thing. I told her she was wrong.” She angled her head and gazed at him. �śI guess I long ago had to stop caring about what people thought of me. There’s nothing I can do about it, and I refuse to let other people’s opinions dictate the way I live my life.” He reached out a hand, stroked her cheek. �śTalk about assets. You are one strong, gutsy women, you know that?” She wrinkled her nose. �śI’m just a person, Paul. I am what the circumstances of my life made me. I have strengths and weaknesses, like everyone else.” �śNah. More strengths than weaknesses, trust me. And I want you to know I admire the hell out of that.” The smile she gave him was so sweet, he felt his heart turn over in his chest. �śYou really get to me, in a way that no other woman has ever gotten to me.” �śThank you,” she said. �śI think you’re pretty terrific yourself. And now I’d like to prove to you just how terrific you are. Lie back.” �śYes, ma’am.” �śGood boy.” �śLike this?” He rested his head on the pillow, crossed his arms under his head and gazed at her. In the soft lamplight, her pale body was all curves and hollows, all shadows and woman. She moved over him, trailing soft kisses down his chest and belly, till she took him in her warm, moist mouth. �śExactly like this,” she murmured. Waking to the sound of cars driving by on the street below, Paul glanced at the clock. Nearly noon! They’d both slept in. Although the word sleep didn’t accurately describe what had happened in that bed throughout the night. He was still making up for lost time, and she seemed to have no problem keeping up with him. He figured in fifty years, he might get tired of making love with Kayla. Maybe not even then. At that moment, he was on his back, his arm stretched out, cradling her head. She lay on her side, one long leg slung over his thighs, one small hand resting on his chest. He watched her stirring, then she opened her eyes and smiled at him. �śGood morning,” he said, kissing her forehead. She gazed at him through drowsy, half-lidded eyes. �śGood morning to you. I have a confession to make.” �śYou, too?” �śYes. It’s only that�ŚI love you.” Her words made ice form in his veins. �śNo. No, you don’t really mean that.” A frown puckered her brows. �śNot exactly the response I was looking for.” He pulled away, sat up and propped his head against the pillow, frowning himself. Her declaration had shocked him to the core; he felt as if he’d taken a fist in the belly. �śIt’s just that you can’t love me.” �śOf course I can.” He shook his head, adamant. �śNo. We can be together, but don’t mention that word. Love. You’re right. I am old-fashioned, and that word means commitment, maybe marriage. And yeah, maybe in the future. But not now. Who am I? What do I have?” She made a gesture of disgust, sat up, crossed her legs and glared at him. �śAre we back on that again? That’s not why you love someone.” �śKayla.” He had to make her understand. �śI have nothing, not even my name. It’s been smeared all over the city.” �śBut you are so much more than your name.” �śNo. I’m a man. And without my good name, I’m nothing. This isn’t about money now, this is about my name.” Kayla had just about had it. �śWhat is this?” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. �śSome kind of macho rant? I don’t care about your name, because that’s all about what other people think of you. I used to care what they thought,” she said with intensity. �śI hid for years. Years! The terror ran me, made my life a living hell. And all because I thought I had done something wrong, that other people would point at me and whisper. What did that accomplish? Nothing. By giving power to the boy who hurt me, he won, they all won. But it doesn’t have to be that way. What we are, inside�"” she pounded her chest with a fist �ś�"that’s all that’s important. My name? Who cares? I grew up, I got strong.” �śSo strong,” he shot back, �śyou married a man old enough to be your grandfather.” She gasped, stared at him in horror. �śHow dare you? Walter was a wonderful person, whatever his age.” �śI’m sure he was. You quote him all the time. He taught you so much. The wisdom according to Walter. But he wasn’t a husband, he was the parents you never had. He took care of you, sheltered you. Hell, you didn’t start to grow up until he died.” The arrow struck deep. �śNo! You are so wrong! You may not talk about Walter and me that way.” �śTry and stop me.” He sat up straighter, leaned in, equally intense and just as combative. �śYou with your little lectures about how you got over your past, and how I need to get over mine, how I really ought to swallow my completely justified anger. Your little rules about how you can’t possibly be around a man who loses his temper.” �śAnd your point is?” �śMy point is that you had a long time to get over what was done to you. You’re asking me to do what it took years for you to do. Pardon me if I haven’t achieved sainthood just yet.” They glared at each other, two fierce warriors, nose to nose. Kayla’s insides were roiling with thunderous anger and hurt. If she’d been someone other than who she was, she might have hauled off and slugged him. Instead, she got out of bed, stomped over to the dresser and started grabbing clothes. �śFine. Go on and on about your name, and my money, and what you’re going to do to my brother when you find him. I am not going to stick around watching you getting eaten up by it. I won’t.” �śYou don’t have to. You can buy your way out of whatever ails you.” She whirled around, her fists tightly clenched. �śThat was low!” She saw on his face the moment he realized he’d gone too far. He scowled, snapped out �śSorry.” She didn’t acknowledge his apology. �śShall I give all my money away? Start over? Is that what you want? Because I don’t. I grew up in poverty and it tastes bad, real bad. I won’t go back there.” �śWell, I can’t be with you and not contribute my share. I can’t be with you with this cloud of distrust hanging over me. I don’t want you to love me, Kayla.” �śFine,” she snapped back. �śI take it back. I don’t love you.” �śThen we’re agreed.” Sudden tears filled her eyes. �śExcept, I can’t take it back.” She covered her eyes with her hands. �śDamn you.” No, no, no, Paul thought, his gut churning. The entire discussion had gotten way out of hand, all because of his stupid pride. He’d spouted off, said way too much, stuff he wasn’t even sure he meant. And he’d hurt her so. What was the matter with him? Whatever he might say to the contrary, he wanted Kayla’s love, craved it. Would die if she removed it. Just then the phone rang, and both of them jumped, then stared at it. Kayla shrugged and stormed off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He picked up the phone, growled into it. �śYeah?” �śPaul? It’s Brian. You okay?” He swiped a hand across his face. �śI’m fine,” he lied, willing his churning gut to settle down. �śWhat’s up?” �śGood news. I have a friend in Internal Affairs, and it looks like there’s a break in your case. IA has opened an investigation on Hatcher and his gang.” These were the crooked cops who’d been dealing drugs. �śGreat.” �śI’ll have more for you when you come in today. You are coming in, right? My shift starts at one. Charley’ll be there, too.” �śSee you then.” He hung up the phone just as Kayla exited the bathroom and began to dress. He didn’t want her to cover that lovely body of hers. Wanted her to come back to bed, where he would show her, in the only way he knew how, that he was an idiot and was sorry. Sorry for his temper, sorry that he’d met her now, when his life was hanging in the balance. �śGood news,” he said. �śOh?” �śThere’s some movement on my case. Looks like they’re going after the cops who framed me.” She paused in the act of fastening her bra. �śOh, Paul,” she said, genuinely pleased. �śThat’s wonderful.” The generosity of her response gave him hope. �śDon’t get dressed, Kayla,” he said beseechingly. He patted the mattress next to him. �śCome back to bed. I’m sorry. I’m a fool. I didn’t think before I opened my stupid mouth.” She shook her head. �śDon’t, Paul. We both said things we shouldn’t have. And I have to get dressed.” �śWhere are you going?” �śTo meet with Joe and Terri.” He threw the covers back. �śI’ll come with you.” �śNo. I need to do this myself. Look, I’ll be safe in my car, they have valet parking. And you’re going back to your old precinct, right? Why don’t I meet you there, say at three?” �śAll right.” But he wasn’t happy. �śI wish you’d known me when I was more even-tempered. Before jail, before all this.” Her smile was sad. �śBut I didn’t meet you then, did I? So why bother wishing it?” Kayla steered her car through traffic, mulling over her visit with Joe and Terri. It had been a stilted, bittersweet meeting. They’d talked about Steven, and they’d all agreed that he was out of hand. Joe was going to try to get him into some grief counseling, but he didn’t have a lot of hope. He also apologized for his brother but let her know that if Steven wanted to continue fighting her, there wasn’t much he could�"or was willing�"to do about it. And she had realized, sitting there in their large, beautifully appointed, high-rise condominium, that she didn’t really belong there anymore. They weren’t her family. She had occupied a place in their life for a few short years, because she’d married Joe’s father. Now Walter was gone, and as much as she liked Terri, as much as she adored their children, they weren’t hers. She’d tried to keep up the relationship, because Walter would have liked it, but she understood that it probably wasn’t going to happen. There was a deep void inside Kayla, and she wanted it filled. She craved her own family. Not her birth family, but one she could create on her own, not borrow. She wanted a husband. A home. Babies to snuggle, babies with fat little arms and legs, and powder-soft, sweet skin. Despite the fact that she’d known him only a short time, she knew, deep in her heart, that she wanted that with Paul, wanted to make a life with him. But from their earlier discussion she realized he might be carrying too much baggage to be able to give that to her. She turned onto the street that housed Paul’s old police headquarters, found a parking spot and got out of her car. As she was approaching the two-story brick building, deep in thought, she spied a man leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She stopped in her tracks. Stared. It was Jay. When he noticed her, he looked surprised. He pushed himself away from the wall, threw the cigarette down on the pavement and walked toward her, grinning. He looked awful. Although he was only a year older than her, his pale hair was thinning and his clothing�"baggy pants and a stained sweater�"hung off him. He’d always been thin, now he looked emaciated. As he drew near, she saw the dark circles under his lower lids, the dullness in his eyes, the size of his pupils. Drugs, no doubt about it. His original �śmerely recreational” habit had obviously turned into a full-fledged addiction. �śHey, sis,” he greeted her, that same cold-eyed, cocky smile on his face. The sight of him repelled her, brought back all the years of bullying, all the times when he’d destroyed her dolls and taunted their sweet, friendly dog. �śJay,” she said, stopping several inches short of where he stood. �śWhat are you doing here?” �śI got a meeting.” He yanked his thumb in the direction of the building. �śI’m in tight with some of the guys in there.” He winked at her, letting her know he had major connections to a power base. �śSo, why are you here?” Looking at him, she felt nauseated. Ordinarily, Kayla had a soft spot for people who had screwed their lives up, but in Jay’s case, she felt not one twinge of compassion. He was lost. Probably always had been. Earlier, she’d called Paul lucky for his family. Now she realized that she, too, was lucky, because she’d survived hers. Unlike Jay and the rest of her sick, sad brothers, she, at least, had managed to make a decent life for herself instead of becoming just one more of its victims. Paul waved goodbye to Brian and Charley. As he passed by his old desk, he nodded to the guy who sat there now, aware that most of the people in the huge room were staring at him, judgment deep in their eyes. To hell with them, he thought. They’d be learning the truth soon enough. His visit had been okay, though, if not great. He knew he had friends for life in Brian and Charley, who had welcomed him warmly, ignoring the chilled atmosphere all around them. Brian had called the state cops about the package that had been delivered to Kayla�"no fingerprints, of course. The UPS package had originated in Albany, sender Joe Smith. An alias. Paul had filled them in on what was going on back in Cragsmont and they’d promised to dig into Walter and Steven Thorne’s connections. He’d asked around about Jay Goodall, to see if anyone knew where he was, but had gotten nowhere. Later this evening, he planned to head out and find the son of a bitch. Now, walking past the reception desk, he made sure he held his head high. No way he would let anyone think he gave a damn about their opinion of him. He pushed open the double doors, stepped out into the sunlight. And stopped in his tracks when he saw Kayla, deep in conversation with the man who had perjured himself to put Paul behind bars. Chapter 13 When Kayla heard the police precinct doors open and slam shut, she glanced in that direction, only to see Paul, a look of savage fury on his face, striding toward them. Jay saw him, too, muttered an expletive, whirled around and took off. He was no match for Paul, who caught up to her brother before he was a quarter of the way down the block, grabbed him by the shoulders and whipped him around. Clutching the front of Jay’s sweater in his huge hands, he backhanded him across the face. �śPaul, stop!” Kayla screamed. But he was past listening. �śListen, scumbag, I want the truth out of you.” Jay, blood dribbling out the side of his mouth, tried to dislodge Paul’s grip, to no avail. The larger man got right in Jay’s face. �śI ought to kill you.” Her brother began to whimper and Kayla couldn’t stand it. Rushing over, she clawed at Paul’s arm, tried to pull him away. He brushed her off like a pesky gnat, then shook Jay, saying, �śWho put you up to it? Who paid you to lie about me?” Jay sagged, nearly lost his balance, but Paul held him up, gripping him by the upper arms. �śTalk to me, dammit!” Jay was shaking, terrified. The doors of the police station opened and a couple of burly-looking men came out, stopped and stared at the scene before them. Jay pointed to one of them. �śAsk him. He was the one. It wasn’t my fault. He made me.” �śHatcher?” �śYes! Hatcher!” �śHey, Fitzgerald!” One of the men, older and balding, with a prominent gut, shouted, �śYou’re threatening a witness.” A couple of pedestrians walked by, stopped and stared. �śYou shut up, Hatcher,” Paul growled over his shoulder. �śYou’re next.” �śOh, yeah?” The man named Hatcher stomped toward Paul and tried to pull him away from Jay, but Paul was larger and in a lot better shape than the older man was, so he shouldered him away. �śHey, Tim,” Hatcher called out to the other cop. �śGo inside, get help.” Paul was still shaking Jay by the upper arms. �śI want you to march right back in there with me, do you hear me? We’re going to the captain and you’re going to repeat what you just told me. Got that?” Now two more men came out of the building and ran toward Paul and Jay. �śI can’t,” Jay whined. �śThey’ll kill me.” �śNot if I kill you first.” As Paul drew back his fist, one of the newly arrived officers, a broad-shouldered, light-haired man, grabbed Paul’s wrist with both hands. Exerting supreme effort, he held on to it, refusing to allow him to inflict any more damage. �śPaul,” the officer shouted. �śLet him go. You’re so close, don’t louse it up.” Paul struggled to get his hand free. �śGet away, Brian. I need to beat the crap out of this little creep until he can’t see straight.” Kayla held both hands up to her mouth. Dear God, the savagery! The blood-lust on Paul’s face! In his eyes! She couldn’t stand it. The other newcomer, a tall, skinny African-American with a shaved head, grabbed hold of Paul’s other wrist. �śPaul, my man,” he said, his voice low and mellow yet laced with iron. �śCool it. Everything’s going to work out, but not if you do this.” Now they were both pulling at him, making him let go of Jay and holding him back, and she could see how furious Paul was at being prevented from carrying out his threat. �śBut Brian, Charley, look what he’s done, dammit. Four years I spent in that hellhole. He needs to pay for it.” By now, several more officers had joined the others. Like a scene out of an old horror movie, the villagers against the monster, it took all of them to keep Paul from his prey, who stood, quivering and scared to death, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, staining his already stained sweater. Freed now from Paul’s grip, Jay shot a look at the one called Hatcher. �śKeep him away from me!” he screamed at the older man. �śTell him who I am, that he can’t do this to me! Tell him!” Hatcher, eyes hooded, shrugged at his fellow cops. �śI got no idea what he’s talking about.” �śYeah, you do,” said the black officer, then grabbed Jay’s arm, twisted it behind his back and herded him toward the precinct. �śYou’re going to do a little talking now, my man, to some people who want to hear what you got to say. And don’t count on Sergeant Hatcher to protect you, this time. He’s being investigated as we speak.” He glanced over his shoulder at Paul, shot him a warning look, shook his head. �śGo somewhere, calm yourself down. We’ll call you later.” And with that, the entire procession of policemen, some puzzled, some defiant, headed back into the station, talking to one another. Now that the entertainment was over, the bystanders walked off, too, shaking their heads and murmuring about police brutality. Paul stood all alone on the street, except for Kayla. His body was still all tensed up, his fists clenched by his side. Eyes darting like a wild animal’s, he looked around him. When his gaze lit on Kayla, his eyes cleared as though he were waking from a dream. He reached out a hand toward her. �śKayla.” �śNo!” she cried. Panic, dismay, even loathing, churned in her gut, her chest, as she ran down the block toward her car. He was right behind her, yelling, �śKayla, wait! Don’t leave.” She got to her car, managed to get the door open, but he grabbed it and shoved it closed again. Shaking, she stood huddled by the door, hugging herself, looking down at the street, Paul glowering over her. �śWait,” he said. �śI want to talk to you.” �śI have nothing to say to you.” She was vibrating with terror, just like she had her entire childhood, just like the night of the rape, just like her brother had moments ago. God, what a fool she’d been! In all the passion she’d shared with Paul, she’d kept forgetting who he was. She’d allowed this very physical man into her life, embraced his presence the way the dying embrace a miracle. But the sight of him enraged and using his fists had slammed home the truth. Paul was revealed to her as he was, deep inside, a massive, powerful brute of a man, with a raging temper that couldn’t be trusted. No. She wouldn’t go through that again. Not ever. �śPlease,” she said, and opened the car door again. This time he didn’t stop her. She got in and, despite her trembling hands, managed to insert her key into the ignition. She reached for the door handle, but he held it open, not allowing her to close it. �śDon’t leave me,” he begged, his voice croaking with emotion. �śYou’re the first good thing to come into my life in a long, long time.” She forced herself to look at him. His face was ravaged with pain. �śBut, don’t you see, Paul? You remind me too much of the worst things in my life. I won’t be a witness to your rages and your temper. I can’t live that way.” �śBut you said you loved me.” �śAnd I meant it. But I have to put a stop to this right now. It’s early enough that my heart will heal. I’m strong, remember? I can’t be with you, I would never feel safe.” His eyes registered shock. �śBut I would never hit you, Kayla. You know that, don’t you?” �śMaybe you wouldn’t. But you solve your problems with your fists. I can’t�"I won’t�"be around that. Never again. Goodbye.” She pulled at the door handle again and this time he let go. She slammed it shut, gunned the motor and without looking back, drove away. Tears fell freely now, and she swiped them away. She had no idea where she was headed, only that she had to put distance between herself and the scene she’d just witnessed, between herself and Paul. By the time she was on the outskirts of Albany, heading south on the thruway, she realized she was making her way back up the mountain to Cragsmont. What she ought to do, instead, was to turn around, go back to the hotel, get her things, check out. But she didn’t want to go back there. Didn’t want to be reminded of her glorious night with Paul and its unhappy ending. She wanted to go home. Home was the mountain. She felt alone, so very alone. She desperately wanted to talk to someone, to be comforted. Lou. She would call Lou, tell her she was headed back and would be stopping by, maybe spend the night with her. Keeping her eyes trained on the road, she fumbled in her purse for her cell phone, found it and punched in the number of Lou’s clinic. The receptionist answered. No, Dr. Lou wasn’t in. She’d had to take her mother to the hospital. Mrs. McAndrews was very ill. Should she try to contact her there? Kayla wondered after she’d left word and disconnected the call. Maybe she could be of some help to her friend. No. She was in no shape to help anyone. In fact, in her present state, she’d be a burden to anyone unlucky enough to get within ten feet of her. She would be better tomorrow, would contact Lou then, see what her friend needed and try to give it to her. Now she would continue on, up the mountain to the house. As she drove along, she flashed again on one of those old horror movies, this time the one where the heroine has been told that danger lurks on the other side of the door, or in a haunted house or a cave, wherever. Still, she is foolishly about to open that door, anyway, and everyone in the audience is yelling at her, �śNo, you idiot! Don’t go there!” Was that what she was doing? Being an idiot by going back to the house? Call her irrational, she didn’t care. She wanted, no, needed, her mountain, the place where she’d arrived, a mere ten days ago, to heal. At the moment, getting there was the most important thing she could do for herself, and if it didn’t make a lot of sense, there were some decisions made for reasons other than sense. She would stay in the grandpa cabin tonight; its foundations were safe. She would lock the doors, keep all the lights on, take the fireplace poker with her. She would even search for snakes before locking the doors. Wait a minute! As she remembered, Kayla expelled a huge relieved breath. Of course. Hank and his men would be there, guarding the place. She would be safe. She had been so deep in thought, she’d failed to notice the gathering storm clouds, but rain spattering across her windshield served as a wake-up call. She reduced her speed, turned on the wipers and concentrated on her driving. For a while, anyway. Because her mind kept trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts and emotions it contained. Not just about the horror of what she’d witnessed outside the police station, but what had gone on between her and Paul earlier, back at the hotel. What Paul had said about her lecturing him. Kayla hated to admit it, but it was true. She had been expecting him to snap his fingers and heal instantly, when she herself had taken years after her violent childhood and the rape to achieve any kind of closure. She shook her head, ashamed of herself. All this time, she’d been so proud of her ability to face facts, had been so sure she knew herself. Instead, she’d been judgmental. She’d been unfair to Paul, even condescending, because the rawness of his anger scared her. And if that weren’t enough, there was what he’d said about Walter and her feelings about him. The criticism might have been offered up in the heat of anger, but that, too, was the truth�"the dear man had been more of a father-figure to her than a lover. And she’d soaked up his love and advice like a dry sponge at the first drop of moisture. Now, Kayla thought, with Walter gone, she had no idea who she was. She had money and a nice car and a large house in Albany, none of which were important to her. The house in Cragsmont belonged to the Thorne family, not her. She’d loved nursing, but she didn’t need to work, so she hadn’t gone back to it. There was nothing in her life, no passion, no goals, other than a recently discovered lust for a man who was hard and angry. The rain continued to come down, more heavily now. At one point, she pulled off at a rest stop, bought a large, steaming cup of coffee and sat in the car, drinking it, hoping the rain would let up. After a quarter of an hour or so, when it didn’t, she decided to drive on. By the time she was passing through Susanville, headed up the mountain, she could barely see in front of her. Glistening sheets of rainwater pounded her windshield, the wipers having little effect. That was when she remembered the Old Stone Church. The restoration company hadn’t begun its work yet. With this sudden storm, would the underground stream that was causing the leak rise? Would it flood the old building, cause irreparable damage? How awful that would be. She loved that old church, was its guardian, now that Walter was gone. She shook her head sadly. It was out of her hands; there was nothing she could do about it tonight. She passed Cragsmont’s small town center, drove by the park where she and Paul had danced. He’d been so attentive that day, so loving. The memory slashed her like a knife, hurting way deep inside to the very core of her. As she slowly rounded a difficult curve, her car headlights picked up a shadowy figure in the road, and she had to swerve to avoid hitting it. She managed to slam on the brakes without any loss of control. In the rearview mirror, Kayla could just make out the black-clad form of Melinda, waving at her. She backed up until she drew even with the old woman, then leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door. �śGet in.” �śNo,” Melinda said, her black clothing soaked and glistening with raindrops. �śNo. The bones.” Kayla had to shout over the car’s engine and the rain. �śWhat about the bones?” �śBeware of the bodies and the bones.” Even in the dark of early evening and the rainstorm, the old woman’s eyes glittered with madness. �śPlease get in, Melinda. You’ll catch a chill.” �śThe bones,” she said again, backing away. Helpless to stop her, Kayla watched as she disappeared into the forest beyond. Now a total and complete bundle of nerves, Kayla pulled into the driveway, now mostly mud and loose gravel. Once she got to the house, she turned off the engine and sat, peering into the dark all around her. Except for the rain pounding on the car and puddling the drive, she could hear no other sound. She had expected lights to be blazing, guards on watch. People. But there was nothing, only the blackness of the night and silence. Where were Hank and the men he’d said would be there? She gazed around her again, more carefully, and this time, over to her left and through the birch trees, she was able to make out a light. It seemed to be coming from the church. Of course. They were all at the church, doing damage control. She started the car up again, carefully backed it down the driveway and drove up to the church. Hank’s truck was there, parked under an overhang. Kayla exited her car, dashed through the rain, got to the thick wooden church door and pulled it open. There were no lights on in the interior, but a thin stream of illumination came from under the small door that led to the basement. Dripping with rainwater, she headed straight for the light. Paul was frantic. After Kayla had driven away, he’d walked the streets of the neighborhood for a while, not quite sure what had happened and not quite sure what to do next. She’d been so upset. That look on her face�"she’d been scared of him! Downright terrified! He couldn’t get the picture of her, cowering at her car door, trying to disappear into herself to avoid harm, out of his head. She needed time alone, he knew that, knew he ought to give it to her. But he needed to talk to her, to explain himself, to let her know that he would die before he’d cause her pain. He just had to find her. He borrowed Brian’s car and headed back to the hotel, hoping to find her there. All her stuff was in the room, but she wasn’t. He gazed around him, trying to think of where she might have gone. To Joe and Terri’s? He tried to get their number, but it was unlisted. Would the lawyer know? Maybe. But Paul didn’t know his name. Paul didn’t know a damn thing. Agitated and heartsick, he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He ought to be rejoicing. Jay Goodall had confessed, in front of witnesses, that he’d lied on the stand. Paul’s one goal after getting out of jail had become reality; he was well on the road to clearing his name. But all he could focus on was Kayla and what he’d done to her. Filled with self-loathing, he tried to get his mind to work on where he might find her. Where would she, in a highly emotional state, go? Maybe somewhere to be alone�"she sought the quiet, she’d told him. Or maybe she’d turn to a friend. Lou? Of course. Lou was her very best friend. He picked up the phone, found the number of Lou’s clinic in Susanville. When he was connected to the receptionist, he was told that Dr. Lou wasn’t there. However, Kayla had called, not five minutes ago, and had left word that the doctor could reach her at home. Home. What home? The one she’d shared with Walter in Albany? Or her other home, the one up the mountain, in Cragsmont? It was the one place, she’d told him, where she felt safe. He nodded. It felt right. Kayla would go home, up to the mountain. Alone. He tried to assure himself that if she went there, she’d probably be all right. There were men guarding the house. Hank was going to arrange it. Then why was Paul feeling increasingly uneasy about that house? The same eerie feeling he’d had about the place before he and Kayla had left hit him again now, hard. That sense of being manipulated, of all the moves up to now having been choreographed. Frustrated, he rose from the bed and paced the hotel room. Dammit, he had to figure this out. The sense of urgency was growing in him; he had to take some kind of action, and soon. Okay, okay, he told himself. Think! The attacks on Kayla, all the things that had happened to her�"there was a pattern there, but where was it? Sure, all the moves had been designed to terrorize her, but to what purpose? His racing mind came up with several answers. Just to be malicious, to get some kind of sick kick out of inflicting emotional pain on her. To get revenge, for some past real or perceived injustice. To drive Kayla away. To get her to leave. He stopped pacing. To get her to leave. That must be it. Someone wanted Kayla�"and by extension, him�"to abandon the house, and had set up a series of increasingly threatening attacks to make that happen. Why, he had no idea, but that could wait for a moment. He had to get to who. His head cleared for the first time since his run-in with Jay, as faces, odd moments, out-of-step images flashed in Paul’s mind. Pieces of the puzzle, posed as questions, presented themselves. Who knew Kayla would be up at the house alone? Whoever she’d told, of course, with the Thorne family at the top of the list. Who knew she was deathly afraid of snakes? Her brother, for sure. All her brothers. As there had been no sign of a break-in, who had a key to the house? The Thornes again. Who else? Who else usually had a key to someone’s place? A neighbor, for emergencies. A housekeeper. Maybe workmen. Workmen. He paused in his rapid-fire associations and considered this. Workmen. Workman. One workman. Who had heard her say she was terrified of snakes? Who had been doing work for the Thorne family for years and most probably had his own key? Who, from the beginning of last week, had been urging her to leave the property? Who had seemed displeased when Paul announced he was going to stay on the premises with her? And when Kayla had finally decided to leave, who had encouraged Paul, pushed him, to leave with her? It all boiled down to one name. Hank. It was the only name that made sense, although it made no sense at all. But that was only because Paul was missing some of the pieces. Deep in his cop’s gut, he knew he had the answer. And if he was right, Hank was up there now, with the place finally all to himself. And Kayla was, most probably, headed there. If for every moment of four years in prison Paul had experienced a steady diet of hot fear and icy dread of the unknown, that was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. His heart raced frantically, his throat was dry, he could barely catch his breath. Kayla was in danger, and if anything happened to her, he’d die. He had to stop her. Jaw muscles working overtime, he considered his next move. He didn’t have her cell phone number, so he called Brian to see if he still had it from the trace on Jay, but Brian wasn’t in. He could call 911, but what would he say? That his gut sensed the woman he loved was heading into a trap? They would laugh him off the planet. He glanced at his watch. Between his walk, getting Brian to agree to lend him his car and his trip back here to the hotel, she had about twenty minutes to a half-hour head start. At warp speed, Paul dashed out of the room, leaped into Brian’s car, found the portable emergency light and placed it on the roof, then gunned the engine and took off. He ignored the rain, broke speed laws. Tires swerving on the slick, wet highway, he urged all eight cylinders on. He had to get to the mountain. Kayla poked her head in the basement door. She heard the sound of a shovel clanking on concrete, coming from the bottom of the stairs. �śHank?” she called out. The shovel stopped, but there was no answer. �śHank?” she called again. Then there was the sound of tools clattering, followed by heavy feet climbing up the stairs. Hank appeared. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt. His face and hands were streaked with dirt and sweat. �śMiz Thorne? What are you doing here?” He looked different, somehow. Not just the unkempt appearance, but his face. It could have been her imagination, but it seemed to have lost its usual good-natured expression. Gone was kind old Hank with the gold-toothed grin; in its place were flat eyes in a hard, cold mask. �śI got back early,” she told him. �śWhere are the men?” �śThe men?” �śThe ones who were going to guard the place? You know, like you told me.” �śOh, yes. They’ll be here soon. The rain held them up.” He scratched his thinning scalp. �śPaul with you?” �śNo.” She was starting to feel nervous again. �śIt’s just me.” As soon as it was out of her mouth, she wondered if she should have lied. �śOh, well, come on down, see what I’m up to.” He turned his back on her, headed down the stairs. She hesitated, a shiver of unease skimming along her spine. It was that scene in the movie again. No, you idiot! Don’t go there! Nonsense. She was being silly, she told herself. This was Hank. Walter had trusted him. So had she. So had Paul. Her imagination had gone haywire. The scene with Paul, the rain, Melinda and her bones. She was letting all of it get to her. She followed Hank down the stairs, where she found him waiting for her at the bottom step. He’d been digging a hole in the concrete floor, a fairly good-size one, at least two feet deep. Surrounding the hole lay chunks of gray concrete, a large pile of dirt, several tools, including a drill, a pickax and a shovel, and a lit lantern. The overhead lights were also turned on, but there were shadowy corners that weren’t illuminated. Kayla drew closer, gazed at the hole. And what was next to it. Bones. Skeleton bones. Dirt-encrusted, but white underneath. A femur. A hand. Part of a skull. A human skull. She raised her gaze to see Hank staring at her, the look in his eyes part regret, part madness. Oh, no. She was an idiot. She whirled around, headed back up the stairs. But before she got very far, something hard hit her on the back of the head, and she tumbled back down the stairs while darkness enveloped her. When she opened her eyes again, she was lying in the hole, Hank crouched on his haunches at the edge, looking down on her. Moist brown earth surrounded her. Her head throbbed. The rain pounded at the narrow basement windows. Hank’s image doubled, then became one again. �śI’m so sorry, Miz Thorne,” he said, regret in his voice. �śI always liked you.” She sat up, rubbed the back of her head. She was still groggy, but not groggy enough to prevent the fear from slicing through her like a laser. When she was able to speak, she said, �śWhat’s going on, Hank?” It took all her effort to keep her tone conversational. �śYou shouldn’t of come back,” he said, shaking his head. �śYou shoulda stayed in Albany. Two days was all I needed. Why couldn’t you stay away for two days?” �śTwo days. For what?” �śTo dig up the bones.” �śYes. How silly of me. Whose bones are they?” At first she thought he might not answer her, but then he offered a sad smile. �śMy wife. And her lover.” �śReally?” Keep him talking, Kayla told herself. Give yourself time to think of something. �śYeah. Sheila. Back when I got out of jail, I came home, all eager to see her again, and I found her in bed with him. He was some kind of traveling salesman. When I saw them two together, well�"” he shrugged �ś�"I lost it.” �śOf course you did. Anyone would.” He nodded, pleased that she understood. �śI stabbed them both while they was sleeping. And then I knew I had to bury them somewhere safe, where they would never be found. Not the woods. Too many animals digging around in the woods. Back then, the church wasn’t in great shape. Mr. Thorne hadn’t taken it upon himself to fix it up yet. So I buried them both down here�"it was all dirt, you see. Then, when I volunteered to pour a new concrete floor in the church basement, everyone thought I was being real generous. So that’s what I did.” �śThat’s very clever.” She moved her legs, got her knees under her, slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Hank was lost in reverie by then. �śNow, I don’t want you to think I didn’t feel bad, Miz Thorne, because I did. Real bad. Yeah. Afterward, I sat up there in the church and I thought about it. I knew I had to pay some kind of penance. And just sitting up there in God’s house, I understood what I had to do. I had to make up for taking lives by doing good deeds for others. I would give ex-cons just like me a new start in life.” He grinned then, reminding her briefly of the old Hank. How had he fooled her�"fooled everyone�"for so long? Why had she not seen that underneath his amiable facade and easy grin was a man with a deep, dark secret, one having to do with the blackest of black deeds. Murder. �śSo that’s just what I did,” he continued, pride in his voice. �śAll these years I been helping them, hundreds of them. Got an award from the governor once. And I nearly forgot about my wife and her salesman.” Now his expression lost its self-satisfied smugness and turned dark. �śAnd then you came up here and you noticed a leak. I told you I’d fix it, but you wouldn’t trust me to do the job. No, you had to bring in outsiders. I had to get to the bones before they did.” She nodded her head, worked to get both feet under her. �śI understand.” �śDo you? Then why didn’t you let me do the repairs?” She shrugged, made herself plaster an understanding smile on her face. �śIt was in the will, Hank, remember? Mr. Thorne’s will?” He turned his head and spat onto the concrete, then turned back to her. �śYeah, well, will or not, you should have let me.” �śI’m sorry I didn’t.” �śFrom the first, I tried to get you to leave, so I could get down here.” �śSo you’re the one who put the chicken bones in the compost heap. What was that about?” �śI knew the forest animals would come sniffing. You’re a city girl, I figured that would run you off. I needed you to go away, give me a couple of days to dig up the bones. Just two days.” He scowled again. �śBut you refused to leave. Damned stubborn woman.” Paul had called her that, too. What she wouldn’t give now to have Paul here. �śSo it was all you. The noises.” �śYes.” �śThe rat on the porch.” �śThought you would have hightailed it out of there that day.” �śWhat about Bailey? Did you have to hurt him?” He turned his head and spat again. �śHe was in the way.” �śThe snake?” A corner of his mouth turned up. �śWorked real hard on that one. Mailed it from the city, timed it just right. Hell, it was only a little black snake. Might bite, but wouldn’t of killed you. I never intended to kill you, Miz Thorne,” he said reasonably. �śI was even happy when you got involved with Paul. But you wouldn’t go away. You just wouldn’t leave.” She had both feet under her now. Her head was throbbing, but she knew she had to fight for her life. He heaved a big sigh, rose and grabbed the shovel. �śI’m really sorry, but I got to do this.” He swung the shovel toward her head, but she’d been prepared. She managed to duck, then grabbed his ankle, pulling him into the hole with her. While he was trying to regain his balance, she scrambled out of the hole and headed for the stairs as though a whole nest of snakes were chasing her. As she reached the stairs, she could hear Hank cursing, then the sound of his heavy boots coming after her. At the top of the stairs, she heard a man’s voice calling from the interior of the church. �śKayla?” �śPaul! Down here,” she yelled, pulling at the door just as Hank caught up with her. It was stuck. �śPaul!” she screamed. He jiggled at the door handle, then burst through the door, shoulder first, knocking both her and Hank to the ground. Quickly, Paul helped her up. She pointed to Hank. �śHe’s the one, Paul. He tried to kill me! He’s a murderer!” �śGo,” Paul told her. �śCall 911.” She lost no time doing exactly as he’d told her to do, running through the church to her car and the cell phone. Hank lay sprawled across the top two steps. Paul stood over him, looking down. It was true, then. Hank was the one. The creep who’d made Kayla’s life a living hell this past week. Who’d reduced her to terror and helplessness. His vision blurred as blind, searing rage took him over. He picked the other man up by his belt buckle, leaped down the stairs and threw him into the hole he’d obviously been digging in the concrete. Hank lay there, dazed. Paul jumped into the hole with him and stood over him, his entire body shaking with fury. Hank stared up at him, terror in his eyes. For a brief moment, Paul remembered that this was the man who had offered him a job and a place to live when he’d been released. This was a man who had done a lot of good in the community. But, although Paul didn’t know the whole story, this sorry excuse for a man was also responsible for threatening Kayla’s life. A murderer, she’d called him. That was enough for him. Slipping out of control, Paul made a fist and prepared to smash it into Hank’s face. But something stopped his hand. That look in Hank’s eyes�"there was something familiar about that look�Ś. It was the same look Kayla’s brother had had earlier that day, the look of a weak, defeated animal facing a much stronger one set on destroying him. Paul heard Kayla screaming at him to stop. He whipped his head around, but she wasn’t there. It, too, was an echo of what had happened outside the precinct. The voice was pleading with him, telling him he didn’t need to punish this man�"or any other. Because he’d already won. Which was the plain truth. Hank was no match for him. He didn’t have to take out his rage on him. It was over. Kayla was safe; by now she’d have summoned help. The authorities would be here soon, they would take Hank away. He’d get his punishment from them�"Paul didn’t need to add to it. �śOkay,” he said to Hank, straddling his body so he couldn’t get up. �śTalk to me. I won’t hurt you if you tell me all about it.” Relieved to be let off the hook physically, Hank lay on the ground and proceeded to explain it all to him, making his case, one full of justification and self-pity. As Paul gazed down on him, listening, he shook his head, amazed at the lengths people went to in order to excuse their baser impulses. He knew all about that, didn’t he. When Hank was done, Paul yanked him up, dragged him out of the hole, twisted his arms behind his back and led him through the church. Kayla was huddled by the door, waiting for him. She looked relieved to see him. �śDid you call the cops?” he asked her. She nodded. �śCome on. I’ll walk you to your car. Turn on the heat. I’ll be there in a minute.” She nodded again. After he’d seen her settled in the Mercedes, he continued on to Brian’s car, where he found handcuffs in the glove compartment. He cuffed Hank to the hitch Brian had put by the tailgate to haul his boat, then sat him down on the muddy ground, in the rain. The son-of a bitch wasn’t going anywhere. He walked back to Kayla’s car and opened the passenger door. The minute he slid into the seat, she threw herself into his arms and wept. Chapter 14 Much later, after Kayla and Paul had told their stories several times, and after the police had left, taking Hank with them and leaving crime-scene tape around the church, Paul was back at the house, sitting on the porch with Kayla. Hank, in his need to exonerate himself, had insisted that the few cuts he’d made in the wooden posts surrounding the porch weren’t meant to endanger the structure, only to scare Kayla. As she’d said, the foundation was solid�"it would take an earthquake, an extremely strong one, to shake it loose from its concrete moorings. Even so, Paul really didn’t want her to be out here. She was cold and tired, had been through way too much, had a large bump on the back of her head and needed to see a doctor, but no, she wanted to sit on the porch. She needed to sit on the porch, she’d told him. One stubborn woman. And so they sat, wrapped in blankets and staring out at the droplets of rain that fell steadily on the shrubbery below and beyond. He reached across the small table that sat between the Adirondack chairs, took her hand in his and held it. Turning to him, she smiled. She looked so drained, and his heart hurt for her. �śThank you for rescuing me,” she said. �śAgain.” �śIt’s my job,” he said dryly. �śI think that job is over now.” He lifted a shoulder. �śI couldn’t be happier, believe me.” They sat and looked out some more, on the gray mists, the ghostly outlines of the mountains, at the tiny lights glowing in homes nestled among the trees. After a while, he said, �śI’m not sorry for what I did to your brother, but I’m sorry I made you so scared of me. It’s the last thing I’d want to do.” She nodded. �śI understand.” �śAnd I know I need to work on my temper, Kayla. I wasn’t always like this, I promise. It’s just the time I spent in jail, it made me someone else.” �śHush,” she said. �śI know. It’s me who should be apologizing to you.” �śBut�"” �śNo. Just listen to me. You were right. About Walter and my feelings for him.” �śI shouldn’t have said all that.” �śAnd I didn’t want to hear it. But sometimes we need to hear things we don’t want to. And you were also right about my asking you to get over your anger. I wanted you to wipe out all that had happened to you, to change, right away, because I needed you to. That’s not fair.” �śBut it’s reasonable. I came out of jail a walking time bomb.” He sighed, shook his head. �śBut, you know, I think I got a glimpse tonight of how it could be. Back there in the church, I wanted to beat Hank to a bloody pulp, but I didn’t. Your voice, in my head, it stopped me. My own guardian angel.” She chuckled. �śNot even close.” He drew their clasped hands up to his mouth, kissed the top of hers, then lowered them onto the table again. �śYeah, you are. I think you were put into my life to help me heal. It’s going to take a while, but I hope you’ll be patient.” �śI’m not going anywhere.” �śGood.” He thought about what he wanted to say next and how to say it, and then just decided to come out and say it, get it over with. �śAbout that other thing,” he began. �śWhat other thing?” �śThe love thing. It’s, um, mutual. I love you, too.” �śGood.” Smiling, Kayla leaned her head back, closed her eyes and let the simple words and the depth of their meaning wash over her. Yes. Paul did love her. He’d proved it a thousand ways, since the day they’d met. And how hard it must have been for him to say it out loud. How hard all of this must be, for this strong, macho man to strip off layers of himself, and to allow exposure. Opening her eyes, she angled her head to meet his gaze. His heart was right there, in his silver eyes. �śI love you, Paul Fitzgerald, so very much,” she told him. �śThen that’s all I need,” he said. He squeezed her fingers. Then, as one, they both turned their heads to stare again at the mountains. In time, she knew, Paul would be all right. He would find his way. They were, each of them, beginning a journey. In time, the scars of the past�"both their pasts�"would heal. As long as they were together, their world would be complete. It was a beautiful spring day. Flowers bloomed all around, and the smell of new blossoms and budding leaves filled the air. They were all there, all the important people in his and Kayla’s life. Champagne glasses in hand, they chatted with one another while he stood beneath the Memorial Arch and waited for his bride. Lou was there�"without her mother, who had died shortly after the night Kayla had come upon Hank digging up the bones. Joe and Terri and the kids were also in attendance, but not Steven. Paul’s family�"his dad, stepmother, brothers, uncles, cousins�"were all beaming. They loved Kayla and she loved them. Even Melinda, in her dark robes, had shown up with her niece, the two of them looking shy and slightly out of place. Melinda’s obsession with �śthe bones” had begun twenty years before when she’d silently witnessed Hank burying his wife and lover; she’d been haunted by it ever since. But her fear had kept her silent until she saw Hank with Kayla at the church. Kayla’s new associates chattered excitedly among themselves. She’d used Walter’s money to endow a medical clinic in a town near Susanville, one mostly populated by recent immigrants and families who lived below the poverty level. Kayla was happy; her life had purpose, she had a place to go every day. As did Paul. He’d taken over Hank’s business, expanded it to include restoration work. As he’d been cleared of all criminal charges, he’d been offered his old job back, but he’d lost his taste for police work. He wanted to put distance between him and potential violence; he wanted peace. He chose instead to stay in Cragsmont, way up high in the mountains. He’d worked hard to repair the damage done by four years in jail. He’d attended anger-management classes, even though it hadn’t been easy to swallow his pride and sit in the same room with alcoholics, wife beaters and child abusers. Still, he’d gritted his teeth and done it, learning techniques to stop the impulse to take out his rage with his fists. Every morning, he went to the Old Stone Church and sat there, listening to the quiet. He even prayed sometimes. He still didn’t believe in God, but he prayed to whatever energy was out there in the universe, to help heal his angry heart. Kayla had deeded her one-third share of Walter’s house over to Joe and Terri’s kids, realizing that it needed to stay in the Thorne family and she was no longer part of that. Paul was building her a house of their own. There would be a porch there, too, maybe not as wide as the one at the Thorne place, but with a nice view of its own, one where they could sit, the two of them, for eternity, watching the clouds change shape and the hawks fly overheard. He was shaken from his musings by the sound of Bailey barking once, then again, which set the puppy to barking, too. She was a small golden Lab with huge paws�"one of Dr. Lou’s rescue animals�"and even though older dogs usually hated interlopers, Bailey had decided to take the youngster under his wing. They began to chase each other around and around the Memorial Arch, but Dr. Lou stepped in, rounded them up and herded them into a corner, where she produced chew toys for each of them. A stirring among the gathered guests made him look up to see his bride walking toward him. His heart swelling with more love than he’d ever imagined it was possible to feel, Paul watched as she moved forward, her steps slow and graceful, on his father’s arm. Dad had taken her in as the daughter he’d never had, and Kayla had blossomed under the old man’s attentions. His bride looked even more beautiful than usual; she wore a filmy, lilac-colored, long dress and had flowers in her hair. She was carrying his child, but it was early on in the pregnancy so it didn’t show yet, and nobody but the two of them knew. As he met Kayla’s steady gaze, his entire being swelled with pride and gratitude. Over the months, he’d begun to focus on giving thanks for what he had, instead of being enraged about what he did not. In just a few moments, he would be saying �śI will” to the love of his life. There was no doubt about it. When it came to being blessed with riches, Paul figured he was the luckiest man in the world. ISBN: 978-1-4268-7372-0 WHISPERS IN THE NIGHT Copyright © 2004 by Diane Pershing All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. ® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries. Visit Silhouette Books at www.eHarlequin.com Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14