Simon Says (9 page)

The thought of murder teased his senses. He'd done many reprehensible things in his time, but he'd never killed anyone. Right now, he thought he could do it.

After years of wheeling and dealing and always coming out on the short end, he'd finally played a winning hand. He
owned
his life. He had a nice, quiet existence. He was able to watch game shows in the morning and in the afternoon he relaxed in the shaded yard. Sometimes he took pleasure in trimming the lawn, sometimes he paid others to do it.

He didn't want to risk it all for a punk-ass thug. Not when there were easier ways….

The jarring sound of the phone brought Barnaby jerking around, ready to defend an attack. He laughed at himself when he realized the intrusion was a call.

Stepping over the destruction on the floor, he lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Barnaby Jailer?”

Quiet satisfaction lifted his tension. Instinctively knowing who called, he affected the proper tone and attitude. “Yes. May I help you?”

“This is Simon Evans. Dakota Dream asked me to call you.”

Call
him? That little bitch. She knew that wasn't what he wanted. He couldn't get anything accomplished unless he met with Simon face-to-face.

Barnaby's hand tightened on the receiver. “Simon. Oh my. Yes, thank you. Thank you.” He conveyed just the right amount of uncertainty and gratitude. “This is wonderful. But…I was so hopeful that we could meet. In person, that is. You see—”

“No.” Firm, with no room for indecision, Simon cut him off. “I'm only calling to tell you that I'm not interested in meeting you. Dakota has been damned insistent, but I won't change my mind. I hope you'll tell her that you accept my decision.”

“But I don't.” Barnaby moderated his tone. “I can't. You see, it's imperative that I meet with you.”

“I said no.”

Desperation unfurled in his guts. “Just let me explain.”

“There's no point, because it won't matter what you have to say. I'm not interested.”

Barnaby stepped on broken glass without realizing it. “I understand that you must be hurt, or perhaps angry at my long absence. There are no good excuses, of course. But maybe if you'd hear what I have to say, you'd change your mind.”

“No.” Lacking any inflection at all, Simon said, “I'm not hurt or angry. I just don't care. Period. That won't change.”

His hand nearly crushed the receiver. “At least give me a number where I can call you back. Or perhaps your current address.” He wouldn't go to him, but he could write to him, endearing letters that might soften his stance.

“No.”

“Then maybe—”

“Good-bye, Barnaby. I'd prefer that you not bother me again.”

The line went dead. Barnaby's arm dropped to his side and he looked around at the destruction in his home. All because of
her.

“You'll care,” he predicted in a whisper. “Trust me, Simon, before it's all said and done, you most definitely will care.”

Knowing what would likely happen next, Barnaby went into the kitchen to get a broom and dustpan. He needed to restore order to his new, tidy life. He wanted to keep everything perfect…for as long as he could.

E
VEN
the bright sun couldn't remove the chill from the morning air. Dakota shivered inside her layers of clothing and coat, and still, the last thing she wanted to do was go into the gym. She hovered at the entrance, trying to give herself a pep talk, trying to work up some courage.

But really, what choice did she have?

None.

She straightened her shoulders and had started to push the entry door open when an odd sensation skated up her spine. Someone was watching her.

As she glanced over her shoulder, she didn't give it much thought—until she saw the black SUV just cruising by.

Slowly.

An eerie sense of déjà vu made her skin prickle. The darkened windows of the vehicle kept Dakota from seeing anyone inside.

But she knew without a doubt that someone saw her.

And she knew that someone was smiling at her obvious alarm.

She stiffened and stared harder, determined not to turn tail and run. The car stopped. The tension built. Unsure what she'd do, but knowing she had to do something, Dakota took a step toward the vehicle.

And finally, it rolled away.

Heart pounding hard, Dakota shoved the gym door open, stormed angrily inside, and ran headlong into Mallet Manchester. It was like barreling into a brick wall.

“Oompff.”
He caught her to him as they both stumbled back.

“Mallet!” Together, they barely regained their balance. “Sorry about that.”

His big hands opened over her back and he smiled with awareness. “No harm, honey. I don't mind at all.”

Oh, good grief. Dakota gave him a droll look. “You just refuse to learn, don't you?”

He laughed—but released her and held up both hands. “Ah, come on now. You're not still holding a grudge, are you? Especially after you laid me low?” His smile widened. “It wasn't my fault really. It's just that you're irresistible.”

“Uh-huh. And you want to sell me a bridge, right?”

That made him laugh again. “This time I'm innocent. You ran into me, not the other way around.” He tipped his head. “Any reason you came charging in here?”

Recalling the car she'd seen, Dakota frowned. “Yeah, I was distracted.”

“With what?”

She shook her head and said without thinking, “I thought someone was following me.”

“Following you?” Mallet's attention went to the glass doors and he looked toward the street. “Who?”

“Well, not really following me, I guess. Just…” How could she explain the inexplicable alarm she'd felt? “Look, it's nothing. Just a car that went by and it seemed like someone was looking at me—”

“I'm sure lots of men look at you.” Going all serious on her, Mallet said, “You're hot.”

“Uh…thanks. I think.” Dakota gave a quick glance at the doors, but saw only the regular ebb and flow of traffic. “It was probably my imagination.”

“Well, just in case…” He eased closer. “Why don't you let me know when you're ready to leave today, and I'll walk you out.”

Such a nice offer—a much-appreciated one, too. She could face the threats on her own, but maybe showing off Mallet would be a good deterrent. “Thanks. I just might take you up on that.”

“Good.”

Suddenly Dakota felt another stare, this one not the least threatening. She looked beyond Mallet and found Simon standing there, full of intimidation and strength and sex appeal. He wore no expression at all, and still he managed to look irked.

Mallet must have felt his presence, too, because he stiffened. “Okay, then.” Pretending not to know that Simon stood right behind him, he said, “I'll see you around.”

He turned, hesitated only a split second in front of Simon, and strode around him as if he had someplace important to be.

Simon let him pass without a word so that he could address Dakota. “You'll take him up on what?”

“Nothing important.” Simon's nearness and the impact of his presence set Dakota's heart to pounding. To cover that reaction, she went on the verbal attack. “I thought you were going to call me after you spoke with Barnaby. I waited up half the night for you.”

The corners of Simon's mouth lifted. “Most women wouldn't admit to waiting for a man's call.”

Most women didn't have Barnaby Jailer breathing down their necks. “Yeah, well, I'm unique.”

“I noticed.” Gesturing at the door, Simon said, “Why don't we step outside to talk in private?”

She balked—and he wondered at it.

“Dakota?” He scrutinized her, and given his new mood, he must have come to some conclusions. “You want to tell me what's going on?”

“Not really.” She wasn't about to share her deepest darkest secrets. “Let's talk in here instead.”

“All right.” Simon took her arm and urged her toward the wall. There were others around them, but no one close enough to overhear. “We'll talk—as soon as you tell me what Mallet offered to do for you, and why you don't want to go outside.”

“You are so pushy.”

He laughed. “That's the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?”

Dakota had to admit that he had a point. “Look, I already told you, it's nothing.” She tipped her face up to him and smiled. “Let's talk instead about your conversation with Barnaby.”

“Sure. After you answer my question.”

Given everything she'd been through, and everything she had to lose, his stubbornness annoyed her. “What do you care, anyway?”

Simon crossed his arms over his chest in a pose she now recognized. Instead of “Sublime,” he should have been nicknamed “Ass” for sheer stubbornness.

“This is ridiculous, Simon. It was nothing.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “So why not tell me?”

“Unbelievable.” Dakota crossed her arms, too. “All right, fine. I thought someone was watching me.”

“Who?”

“I don't know who,” she lied. “When I looked, all I saw was a car with darkened windows, and no, it wasn't a car I recognized.”

“But you suspected someone, someone you don't like or someone you fear, otherwise it wouldn't have worried you.”

A likely conclusion, she supposed. “You could be right. But some things are none of your business, and this is one of those things.”

“So you were afraid?”

Dakota threw up her hands. “Did I say that?”

Very gently, Simon touched her cheek. “You didn't have to. It's odd, but I can already read your expressions.”

Not good. The last thing she needed was Simon poking around in her psyche. She scowled at him. “Okay, smart-ass, so what am I thinking now?”

Simon laughed. “That you're done with this topic. I'll let it go—for now.” He held out a hand to her. “Let's sit in your truck to talk, and then you can head on home.”

She hadn't planned to turn around and leave so soon, but he didn't give her much choice as he led her outside. Dakota noticed that he scanned the area, and that he kept her tucked in close to his side.

She felt safe.

She felt…protected.

Dangerous. She absolutely would not let herself start relying on others. She most especially would not rely on Barnaby's son. “Did it occur to you that I might not want to go home yet?”

Simon spotted her truck in the side lot and led her toward it. “Where is home, by the way? You're staying in a motel?”

“Yeah. A cheesy little place not too far from here.”

“A friend owns the Cross Streets Motel. Dean stayed there when he first came back to Harmony. You should check it out.”

Dakota's heart tripped at that suggestion. She barely noticed when Simon opened her driver's door and waited for her to get inside. As soon as he settled in on the passenger's side, she asked, “Are you suggesting I stay in Harmony for a while?”

Staring into her eyes, Simon hesitated only a moment before he leaned forward to kiss her.

Dakota didn't move out of reach, but she did groan. Against his mouth, she asked, “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“Hell if I know.” His breath warmed her; he caught her bottom lip in his teeth for a gentle nip. “I can't seem to help myself.” His hand settled in her hair, his long fingers cupping her skull and tipping her head so that he could seal the kiss, take it deeper, make it hotter.

Even knowing she had a hundred things to discuss with him, Dakota gave in and relished the taste of him, the heated scent that clung to him, the confident way he touched and kissed her.

When Simon finally ended the kiss, they were both breathing harder. He put his forehead to hers. “I didn't call last night because I wanted to talk to you in person.”

“All right.” She took a few more seconds to calm herself. “Let's hear it.”

“I spoke with Barnaby.”

Still tasting him on her lips, Dakota said, “I know.”

He leaned away to frown at her. “You do?”

“Yeah. He called me.”

Simon's expression darkened. “What did he say?”

He'd said a lot, all of it ugly and mean and, in some ways, desperately threatening. Not that Barnaby scared her. He was a worm and she despised him, but he'd never really gained that power over her.

Dakota saw no point in sharing all that with Simon. If he found out that Barnaby was her stepfather, one thing would lead to another and eventually she'd reveal her past—a past that shamed her, a past she'd worked hard to overcome.