Revenge (20 page)

She'd just about finished her tea when she noticed the newspaper lying open on the table. “Doesn't that beat all?” she said, pointing to the headlines about Jonah McKee's death. “The man's been dead over a month, everyone around here thinking it an accident, and now, lo and behold, the sheriff and some private investigator think maybe he was murdered.” She clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “I moved Paula here, away from Des Moines, to get away from all the violence that goes with a big city.”

Skye's stomach seemed to drop. She didn't want to think that anyone would actually kill Jonah. Much as she hadn't liked the man, he certainly didn't deserve to be murdered. She thought of the investigator, Rex Stone, and wondered what he wanted from her.

“They think he was either run off the road or that he might have been drugged. Can you believe it—in a little town like Rimrock?” She shook her head and sighed. “Seems like they could've figured out all this before the family had the old guy cremated.”

“Seems like,” Skye said, unwilling to dwell on such a morbid topic.

“I never did meet the man, but I heard he was pretty powerful around here. You can't go a block without seeing McKee Enterprises on one building or another. You know, some people have all the luck.”

“Don't they though?”

A loud knock sounded on the door.

“Oops. I bet that's Paula. I'd better get going.” Tina drained her glass quickly and set it on the table. “Thanks for the tea and sympathy.”

“Company,” Skye corrected as she walked her through the living room. She opened the door and found Jenner McKee standing in the hallway, one hand raised as if he planned to knock again. “Why, Jenner,” Skye said, surprised to find him in the hallway even though Dr. Fletcher had warned her that the younger McKee brother was looking for a place to stay.

“Doc Fletcher told me you could use a handyman around here,” he said, ignoring the fact that Tina was looking him up one side and down the other. A Stetson was shoved back on his head, faded jeans were tight over his hips and a rawhide jacket was tossed over a sun-bleached plaid shirt. His skin was tanned and weathered, his body trim and tough as leather. He looked very much like the rodeo rider he'd been not so many years before. “He told me to stop by.”

“He said the same thing to me,” Skye said. “But the basement isn't fit to live in.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“And have the Department of Health after me? I don't think so.” She shook her head and Tina stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. “There's a room up on two and an attic loft on three, each with working indoor plumbing, insulation and heat.”

“The deal was for the basement,” he said stubbornly.

“The deal just changed. Either you take a decent room or you don't take a room at all. Oh, and by the way, this is Tina Evans. She's one of the tenants. Jenner McKee.”

Tina's mouth nearly dropped open. “McKee? We were just... oh.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Jenner said, charm evident in his sky blue eyes.

“Me, too.” Tina, now that she'd quit staring, actually blushed.

Smothering a smile, Skye led them both up the flight of stairs to the second floor where she fitted the proper key into an ancient lock. The door creaked open and she hit the lights. This room was the smallest on the floor and needed work, but it was warm and weatherproofed and had working kitchen appliances as well as a hot shower, sink and toilet. “I'll offer you the same rate as Fletcher quoted. You can work off the rent by fixing up the basement and taking care of some of the problems in the other units. I've got a list downstairs for Mrs. Newby's apartment. The list needs to be trimmed a little, but at least it's a place to start.”

“Same amount of rent?”

“Exactly.”

He eyed her for an instant before nodding curtly and extending his hand. “It's a deal.”

Tina smiled widely, so pleased she looked about ready to burst. “So we're going to be neighbors.”

“Appears as such,” Jenner said just as the front door to the vestibule swung open and Max strode inside. He paused under the chandelier in the hallway and glanced up, his sea-colored eyes stormy.

Skye couldn't help the little flip her heart did at the sight of him. Where Jenner was range tough and handsome, Max was more polished and finer-featured. Yet he had the same underlying thread of steel in his stance. He took the stairs two at a time and stopped on the landing just as Mrs. Newby opened her door the width of the security chain, peered out, then shut the door quickly again, as if expecting the two newcomers to try to break into her apartment.

“I wondered when you'd show up,” Jenner drawled with a knowing smile. “Just in time to help me move in.”

“Right,” Max replied sarcastically.

Skye introduced Tina to the second McKee brother to appear within ten minutes, then Jenner announced he was going to settle in. Tina reluctantly let herself into her own apartment, giving Skye a glimpse of old furniture and clothes strewed over an ironing board set up in the middle of her little living room. Heavy-metal music filtered into the hallway as Max and Skye headed downstairs.

Once they were back in her apartment, Max kicked the door shut. “I don't like him being here.”

“Who?” she asked, then laughed at the jealousy evident in his features. “Jenner? Why not?”

“He's irresponsible and spends too much time at the Black Anvil.”

Skye rolled her eyes and laughed again. “I'm not going to marry him, Max.” He shot her a look that made her regret her careless reply. The subject of marriage cut too deep. For both of them. She cleared her throat. “What I'm trying to say is that as long as he does what I ask, I don't care where he hangs out.”

Jaw clenched, Max didn't argue. He looked uncomfortable, as if his brother's presence upstairs was bothering him. “Let's go out,” he finally said.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.” He grabbed hold of her hand and the gleam in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Anywhere? That sounds dangerous.”

“It could be,” he allowed, his voice low and seductive.

“You're on.” She locked the door behind her and followed him out to his truck. They drove out of town and far up into the foothills of the Blue Mountains.

Max pulled into a lane barred by a gate and posted with No Trespassing signs. “You own this?” she asked when he unlocked the gate.

“The company does.” His expression grew dark as the pickup rumbled through the forest. “It was owned by Ned Jansen. Dad got this piece along with the copper mine.” They stopped in a clearing, and through the trees the twinkling lights of Rimrock winked in the valley like diamonds.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and helping her out of the truck. Together, hand in hand, they walked through the tall, dry grass of the clearing. Max folded her into his arms and his lips found hers in a kiss that was as warm as morning sunshine.

With a sigh, Skye melted into his arms and they fell onto a bed of sun-bleached grass and wildflowers. Max's fingers tangled in the curling blond strands of Skye's hair. “I never forgot you,” he admitted as the wind whispered through the surrounding trees. “All the time we were apart, as hard as I tried, I never forgot you.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes as dark as the night. “And I never forgot you,” she said before dragging his head down to hers again.

 

Rex Stone was a disagreeable man. He seemed to think that Skye knew something about Jonah McKee's death and he didn't bother to hide the fact.

“He broke you arid Max up, didn't he?” Rex was seated in one of the old club chairs Skye had inherited from Ralph Fletcher. Dressed in a cotton shirt and brown polyester slacks, he crossed one leg over the other and studied Skye with a look as hard as nails.

“I don't see that this is any of your business.”

“I'm just trying to solve this murder investigation, Dr. Donahue, and in the process I'll need to know everything I can about Jonah McKee. You didn't like him much, did you?”

“That's true.” Skye held the short man's gaze. “As you probably already know, I wasn't the only one and I certainly didn't want to see him dead.”

“But you came back here and picked up with Max before the old man was cold in his grave. Don't you think that's a little convenient?”

“Coincidental is the word. I came back when I did because I'd finished my residency and I was offered a practice here by Dr. Fletcher. If you don't believe me, you can ask him.”

“Why would I doubt you, Doctor?”

It was all Skye could do not to jump out of the old rocker in which she was seated and shake some sense into the foul little man. She'd returned his call, agreed to meet him and braced herself for the confrontation, but she hadn't expected him to suggest that she'd had something to do with murdering Jonah McKee. “Is there anything else you'd like to know?” she asked, glancing pointedly at her watch.

“A couple of things.”

Skye inwardly groaned. They'd been talking for nearly an hour and her nerves were stretched as tightly as guitar strings.

“Who else would you classify as Jonah's enemies?”

“I don't classify myself as one.”

His lower lip protruded and he shrugged. “Give me names.”

“A lot of people who did business with him.”

He didn't bother making a note. “Already checking on that.”

“Neighbors, maybe. Women he might have been involved with.”

“Such as?”

“I don't know,” she said, and Stone's mouth twitched as if he was enjoying a private joke.

“No?”

“No.”

“How about your sister? As I understand it, Jonah convinced her to give up her baby.”

Skye's mouth turned to cotton. “I can't comment on that.”

“And your mother. Worked for him for years. Everyone in the office suspected that she was in love with the old coot, but he never gave her a second glance.”

Skye shot to her feet. Her insides had turned to jelly. “My mother would never have done anything to hurt Jonah McKee.”

The doorbell chimed softly.

“You're in pretty tight with the McKee clan, aren't you? Seeing Max. Renting space to his younger brother. Working for the old man once.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Nothing,” he said as the doorbell pealed again.

“Good. Then I think we've finished, Mr. Stone,” she said as she crossed the room quickly and threw open the door to find Max standing in the foyer. Relief flooded through her.

“Hi! I thought—” His gaze, which had centered on her lips for an instant, moved to a spot past her shoulder and turned instantly cold. “Stone,” he said without a trace of inflection. “He bothering you?”

“Just asking a few questions, Max,” Rex countered.

“It's okay,” Skye interjected. “Mr. Stone was just leaving.”

Rather than argue the issue, the detective slipped out the door and through the foyer, leaving Max still seething in his wake.

“He's a slimy bastard.” Max peered through one of the narrow windows near the front door as Stone's Chrysler pulled away from the curb.

“Just doing his job,” Skye remarked with a smile. Just the sight of Max seemed to make the gloom disappear.

The tension in Max's shoulders eased. “I have to go over to Dawson City to pick up Hillary,” he said. “I thought you could come along and we'd all go out to dinner.”

Skye hesitated. “I don't know. I wouldn't want to intrude.”

“You won't,” Max assured her as he linked his fingers through hers and pulled her close. As she turned up her face, he pressed warm lips to hers. “Come on,” he whispered and she tingled inside. “It'll be fun.”

“Promise?” she said, not daring to believe him.

He lifted one hand, palm out. “Promise.”

 

Skye's stomach was in knots by the time they reached the two-story frame house where Hillary lived with her mother and stepfather. Max's face had grown tense, his knuckles white, as he gripped the steering wheel so hard Skye thought it might bend. He pulled close to the curb and swore under his breath. “God, I hate this.”

“I'll wait here,” Skye said. Even though she'd been invited, she felt out of place, as if she had no right to intrude in this part of Max's life.

She watched as he jogged up the path, took the porch steps in one stride and knocked rapidly on the door. Within minutes, the door opened and Hillary, dressed in shorts and a matching T-shirt, shot through, scrambling into her father's open arms.

Colleen, looking tired, stood inside with one crying toddler on her hip. She didn't smile at Max; in fact, her lips were pulled into a tight scowl of disapproval. She handed him a small suitcase seemingly relieved to let her daughter go.

As she turned in the doorway, her gaze moved to the pickup, and in an instant she caught sight of Skye. Her face drained of color and she cast Max a final glare before slamming the door so hard the house seemed to shake.

“Boy, was she mad!” Hillary announced as Max opened the door to the cab and she started to climb in. “Hey, wait a minute.” Curious eyes met Skye's. “You're the lady at the ice-cream place.”

“That's right.”

Hillary's nose wrinkled. “I 'member. You're a doctor,” she said with distaste in her tone.

“See how smart you are,” Skye said to the precocious child.

Max said, “Her name is Dr. Donahue.”