Secrets Among the Cedars (Intertwined Book 2) (14 page)

Drew called, but he ignored it. If he had to defend Uncle Louie, he would. And if Louie turned out to be guilty, so be it. His family couldn't hide the truth forever.

But right now, Kathryn was his top priority, not worrying about his uncle or his two brute cousins and their insistence that he defend Louie. His focus was on getting their minds off Kathryn, to help her find the murder weapon, and to get her reinstated to the case.

He walked Sadie one last time for the night, and she returned to Kathryn's side on the bed in the master bedroom, where he'd carried her after she'd fallen asleep on the sofa. Phil brushed Kathryn's hair out of her face. Her breathing was as steady as the sway of a dock on the water, and her face glowed from the light of the moon coming in through the window. The allergic reaction was unfortunate and had caused the poor thing to miss the sunset, but Phil didn't mind the opportunity to watch over her for a little while longer. She'd leave Cedar Key in a day or so, and he might not get another chance to spend this kind of time with her again.

If Pops knew he'd befriended the prosecutor—former prosecutor—for his ex-brother-in-law, he'd charter a private flight to Cedar Key and give Phil a lashing or two with his tongue, if not with his fists. To Pops, there was nothing more important than protecting the family name, especially not a woman. If he found out that Kathryn had been friends with Maria, he'd pass judgment on her before hearing anything else about how kind and innocent she was. A friend of Maria's would be a traitor to the Tagliaferro family, in Pops' eyes.

Phil sighed and opened the can of paint. He'd work a little in one of the bedrooms for a while and hopefully come up with a plan for finding the gun.

Chapter Fourteen

Kathryn pulled the covers up to her chest and yawned. The ocean-blue luxurious sheets felt like Egyptian cotton; they had to be 1,000-thread count. Blanketed by a blue, gray and silver feather-light spread boasting of interlocking geometric shapes, she protested leaving this haven with its vaulted ceilings and skylights. But the smell of bacon filtered into the room, and her stomach growled in response.

Delight flooded her soul when her gaze landed on the painting above the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. The turquoise ocean waves crashing against the shore. The sea foam lingering behind as the waves rushed back to the depths of the ocean. The sea oats glimmering in the sunset. The lone gull soaring in the breeze. Clearly, this was not a painting of Cedar Key, but of somewhere in the Gulf. There was no mistaking its beaches and surf.

The beach had always conjured up such relaxation in Kathryn. She’d solved problems while sitting on a sandy shore which might as well have been a therapist’s couch. From her spot near the crashing waves, she’d dreamt of days where rejection and pain had no place. Yes, the beach held all of her secrets and her heart close to its own. She could bottle up the sugar white sand and collect seashells galore, but she couldn't adequately capture the essence of this marvel of nature or the emotions that stirred within her every time she sat before it. The artist of this painting, however, had somehow done it, and Kathryn would forever be grateful to her for it.

She yawned again and stretched then bolted upright in the bed. Where was she and what day was it? How had she gotten here into the bed? The TV resounded in the living area, so she wasn't alone. Alarm raced down her spine, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Who was with her? Where was Sadie?

She slipped out from underneath the covers and tiptoed down the hallway. She peeked around the corner into the kitchen. Phil stood in front of the stove, and Sadie sat at his feet. Kathryn smiled and scurried back to the bedroom.

In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth then her hair and pulled it back into a messy bun. She washed last night's make-up off her face and studied her puffy eyes. Why did she look like a blowfish? Ah, that's right. She'd had an allergic reaction. Phil must have stayed all night with her. Warmth smoothed the apprehension away from her body.

Kathryn turned too quickly leaving the bathroom and caught the door facing with her shoulder to keep from falling. The antihistamine had done a number on her, but it had obviously worked. She inched her way into the kitchen down the hallway, sliding her hand along the wall for support.

And there he was. Standing in her kitchen—his kitchen—in slim-fitting charcoal gray shorts, a gray heather round-neck T-shirt, and black Chuck sneakers. Was it the leftover antihistamine in her system that made her feel light-headed or was it the sight of him? Oh, it was the sight of him, no doubt. She straightened her T-shirt, tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear, and shuffled into the kitchen.

Phil’s eyes smiled. "Well, good morning, little Miss Sunshine. I thought I heard you fumbling around back there." He sidled up next to her with two giant steps and placed a kiss on her cheek. His citrusy cologne combined with the savory scent of the bacon swirled around her. "You look much better this morning than you did last night."

She dismissed his compliment with a wave of her hand then brought it to her cheek on the spot he'd kissed. Both of her cheeks must have been as red as a rose judging by the heat searing through her flesh. "Oh, please. I look terrible, especially with no make-up."

"There isn't an ounce of truth in that statement, counselor. You're a natural beauty."

"Thanks." She cut her eyes at him. He had a knack for flattery.

"Did I wake you with my clanking around in the kitchen?"

"No, it was the smell of bacon that woke me. You sure do make big breakfasts."

Phil returned to the stove and tapped the spatula on the frying pan. "It's not really breakfast anymore. It's already noon."

Her eyes bulged, and she rubbed her temple. "Noon? I've been asleep since 9:00 p.m. last night?"

He pointed at her with the spatula. "You guessed it. I checked on you all throughout the night, and you seemed to be okay, so I didn't wake you."

"Thank you. Did you put me in the bed?"

He squinted. "Yes. I hope you don't mind."

"No, thanks." He'd carried her to the bed like some kind of hero from a romance novel. Wow!

"How did you sleep?"

"I don't know." She laughed, still fuzzyheaded. "I guess pretty well. I was confused like never before when I woke up a few minutes ago. I couldn't remember where I was. What did you do while I slept?"

"I ran home to get some things I needed then I spent some quality time with Sadie. She's a great dog."

"That she is." Kathryn patted her leg, and Sadie ran to her side.

Phil removed the bacon from the pan, and placed it on a paper towel to drain. "Then I painted one of the bedrooms."

"I thought I smelled fresh paint."

He picked up a piece of paper off the counter. "And I made a list of my properties and all the possible places someone could hide a weapon."

Kathryn slipped the paper from Phil’s grasp and examined it. "So you didn't waste any time?"

"No way. We don't have any to waste."

Kathryn slid on to the bar stool as Phil pulled the biscuits from the oven. Surely, they weren't homemade. They were two inches high with nooks and crannies just waiting for butter to puddle in them. Kathryn's stomach growled again.

"Do you want your eggs scrambled or fried?"

"Scrambled is fine. Just two."

"How do you feel?"

"Refreshed. I haven't slept that deeply in years." She studied the list of properties.

"I guess that's one benefit of having an allergic reaction."

"I suppose so."

"And you've never had a reaction to seafood before last night?"

"Nope, but I think my dad might be allergic. I'll have to ask him when we talk next. That was really scary."

"Tell me about it."

She turned her attention to him. "I'm thankful you were here with me. If you'd dropped me off and left, I don't know what would've happened."

"We don't want to think about that. I was here for a reason."

She folded her arms and leaned on the bar. Phil sprinkled salt and pepper on his edible masterpieces with care, in the same way he did everything else. In the four days she'd known him, she'd come to realize that he was an intentional kind of guy. He wouldn't be there with her now if he didn't care about her. What a crazy situation. How had she managed to attract the attention of a man who couldn't have been more taboo for her?

"You know, you may be right. Since I've been here in Cedar Key, I've had an awful lot of protection." This had to be the work of something higher than her. Or someone. Maybe God? She shrugged. Thinking about God's providence was too big a subject for her right now. "I don't think that's a coincidence. Do you?"

"No, ma’am. I do not." Phil served the eggs, bacon, and biscuits onto the bar. "Let me say a quick prayer for us."

Kathryn bowed her head and closed her eyes. A lump the size of Georgia grew in her throat at Phil's sweet words. When he finished praying, Kathryn wiped a tear from the corner of her left eye and sliced her biscuit in half then spread butter on each piece. It melted as soon as it touched the steaming bread, like her heart had melted at Phil's prayer, and her mouth watered. "Do you want to tackle this paint job after we eat?" She took a bite of the biscuit and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. She'd never tasted anything like it.

"I didn't think you'd feel like doing it after what you went through last night." Phil bit into his biscuit and grinned. He must have agreed with Kathryn about their perfection.

"Sure, why not?" Kathryn licked the butter off her lips and dropped a piece of bacon into Sadie's begging mouth.

Phil agreed with a nod, licking bacon grease from his fingers. "Why don't we first go explore my properties and see if we can figure out if the gun is hidden in any of them? We can always paint later today."

"Okay." Kathryn scooped up the last bit of her eggs, and her mouth formed into a frown. She should have eaten more slowly and savored each morsel. "You know what I'm sad about?"

"What?" Phil gulped down the last of his coffee.

"Two things: that my breakfast is gone..."

"You want some more? I can whip up a few more eggs." He started to hop up off the barstool.

Kathryn reached for his forearm and stopped him. "No, I'm good."

"Okay. What else?"

"I missed a sunset."

"Yeah, you did, didn't you?" He laughed and patted her hand, sending electric shocks throughout her body. "Maybe you can stay one extra night to make up for it?"

"I just might have to do that." Kathryn slid her hand from underneath his and headed to the bedroom to change clothes. Was she ready for another full day with this man? Her wall of defense was beginning to crumble, and that scared her more than swimming with the sharks out in the bayou. But she had to start somewhere. It was like learning to swim or ride a bike. If she didn't allow someone to teach her how to accept kindness and friendship, how would she ever learn to navigate life's waters?

She scanned the items in the master bedroom closet she'd flung in there last night after dinner. She needed something comfortable for their day of exploring but something cute, also, to make a lasting impression on Phil. Her black drawstring shorts and gray V-neck with her pink sneakers would fit perfectly with his look. That's what she'd wear. She dressed in a flurry and walked down the hallway with a bit of a foxtrot in her step.

#

Kathryn juggled her keys, phone, and laptop bag in her hands, as she locked the beach house door and followed Phil around the back. A plane buzzed overhead, the birds and katydids serenaded them, and the ocean's breeze guided them toward their day of adventure despite the escalating heat.

"I like your outfit." Phil looked over his shoulder and winked. "Sporty."

"Thanks." Kathryn's stomach tightened at the compliment. Then her purse strap fell off her shoulders and landed in the crook of her elbow, causing her to tilt to the left and step off one of the steppingstones that led to the shed. The antihistamine still affected her balance. Or maybe Phil's compliment was the culprit. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen her stumble. She pulled the strap back up onto her shoulder and followed him to his SUV. "You moved my car around back?"

"Yep. I didn't want my cousins scouting every street until they found it. In Cedar Key, it's easy to do that. I parked mine back here, too, so they wouldn't find me either."

"Good call." Kathryn waited as Phil opened the passenger's side door of his SUV for her, and she climbed in. "So where should we go first?" Phil shut her door and went around to the driver's side.

Phil hopped in, shut the door, and pulled his sunglasses from the visor. "I think we'll head over to the tree house first." He slid the sunglasses onto his face and tipped his head toward her as he cranked the car.

There was that confident, almost cocky, attorney she knew was buried somewhere behind that cool and genteel façade. And there was that tingle again. She gulped and blew out her breath. "Tree house?"

He eased the car out from behind the shed and around to the front of the house. "Yep, it's a one-bedroom built up in a giant oak tree. It's the smallest one, so I figured it'd be easiest to check out first. Cross it off the list. Plus, no one is staying there right now."

"What are your other places like?"

"Besides the tree house and the one you're in, which is the most luxurious, I've got one in the old mill complex over by the city park, and two cottages over on 4
th
Street. I doubt the gun is in the one in the complex though. Not private enough for burying evidence."

"It seems like it would have to be somewhere secluded, if it hasn't been tossed out to sea. We already know it’s not at the honeymoon shack or buried in the cemetery." Kathryn's phone rang, and she swiped her finger across the screen to unlock it. Beverly. What could she possibly want? "I need to get this."

"Sure." Phil turned down the volume on the radio.

"Hello," she answered the Clerk of Court's call.

"Hey, Kathryn. Sorry to bother you on your vacation."

Some vacation. "That's okay. What's up?"

"The D.A. shuffled your cases around for you since your time off came up suddenly, but he postponed a few of them because there were too many details that you were wrapped up in."

"Okay. That's what he said he'd do when we talked on Sunday."

"Oh, you talked to him? Okay. So they'll be waiting on you when you return."

"Okay, thanks." She had to be fishing for something. Otherwise, she wouldn't have called. The office gossip ring must be too silent right now.

"So when are you returning?"

Seriously? Was it that impossible to get a break from the office? "I'll be in Monday, if not sooner."