Vision of Darkness (12 page)

God, he was adorable in his slippers and pjs. In a goofy, yet oddly masculine sort of way.

Huh. How had he stayed so far off her sex radar all these years?

“Miranda?” he said a third time.

“Yes, it’s me.” She gave a little wave, nerves quivering around in her belly. “I had a break from the diner and thought to …”

What? To check up on him? Sure, they had been friends, but they weren’t close and hadn’t run in the same social circles since middle school. What gave her the right to check on him? He’d probably tell her to get the hell off his property.

She bit down on her lower lip as he continued to stare. “Um.” She cast around for an excuse and lightning struck. “Pru’s worried about you. She stayed at my house last night after Wade—”

She saw his eyes cloud as his brother’s name left her lips and wished to God she could take it back. A lump swelled in her throat. “I’m sorry. Oh, J.J., I’m so sorry. Is there anything you need?”

His gaze slid away and his Adam’s apple bobbed. He backed toward his front door like a man trying to escape a wild animal. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I could bring you something from the diner after work.” Heat rushed into her cheeks when he looked at her in wide-eyed surprise. She babbled on, “Our soup today is chicken noodle. It will make you feel—” No, she refused to finish the trite condolence. His brother just died and nothing was going to make him feel better for a long time.

“Ah, that was stupid.” She fluttered a hand over her hair. “Forget I said that. I know a bowl of chicken soup won’t take the hurt away but—well, dammit, it’ll make me feel better to do something. I—” Her voice cracked and for the first time since she heard the news of Wade’s death, she let the tears spill over. “I really liked Wade. He always remembered my birthday, every year.”

“He was good with dates,” John Jr. whispered.

She nodded and dug into the pocket of her apron for the handful of lollypops that had felt like lead weights all morning. “I bring these to work every day for him. This morning, I put them in my pocket without thinking and when I got to work—he wasn’t there.”

Tears eased from John Jr.’s eyes. He walked down the porch steps and folded her hand, still holding the lollypops, up in both of his. Big hands, rough with calluses like her father’s. Hands that could cause a woman a world of pain, but John Jr. had the softest touch of any man she’d ever met.

She blinked in amazement, more tears spilling out. Was he…attracted to her? Maybe she was imagining it, but she was usually good at picking up the signals. Under the layers of grief, he definitely seemed to be broadcasting.

How had she never noticed that before?

John Jr. held on a moment too long, then pried the lollypops out of her grip. “I’ll put these with him. When we bury him. He’ll like that.”

Miranda stared as he backed away. A nice, respectable man—a man like she wanted—that she’d known her whole life, and she’d never really seen him before.

“John.” His name came out a whisper.

He stopped moving. “Miranda.” 

They stared at each other. Words and emotions tangled inside her mind. She struggled for a coherent thought, something sweet or sexy to say.

Nothing.   

A little smile flitted over his lips. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Chicken soup would be good.”

CHAPTER 11

Languishing in a jail cell for a day—yeah, not Alex’s idea of a relaxing vacation. He paced the cell, feeling slime smeared over his soul.

Murder.

Jesus Christ.

Panic seethed just under the surface of his conscious. Never did like being cooped up. The defenselessness of it made him edgy. He sat on the squeaky cot for a moment, then popped to his feet and continued pacing.

Alex knew how the system functioned, knew the sheriff was sweating him, and damn if it wasn’t working. They’d had one quick interview, during which the sheriff had read his rights and again laid out the charges.

“So Pru tells me you had a little altercation with Wade,” Forbes had said. He leaned against his desk and faced Alex in the visitor’s chair of the tiny office, arms crossed in front of him.

Alex had said nothing.

“You see, I find that interesting. You show up, have a fight with Wade, and now he’s lying at the bottom of a hole in Pru’s backyard with a snapped neck.”

Bile scorched his throat, but he forced it down. “Maybe he fell.”

The lines around Forbes’s lips went white. He opened his mouth to relax his clenched jaw, breathed deeply for a moment, and then continued, his voice still calm.

“It’s just too bad Pru called in that fake fire. That hole was going to be filled first thing this morning. John Jr. might have buried his own brother without realizing it. Our Pru’s a smart girl. Think she was on to you?”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Alex said.
Today
, his inner cynic had chimed in.

“See, that I find hard to believe. Got some interesting information on you.” Forbes picked up a thin file folder and flipped it open. “Alexander Locke, 34, resident of Boston. You own a security company that’s done some consultant work on housing projects and…” He sucked on his teeth. “It looks like you have a bit of an anger management problem. Four assault arrests in the past three years.”

“All dropped.”

“Yes, I see that. I also see a military background.” His heavy salt-and-pepper brows popped up as if he was impressed. “Says here most of that’s classified. Special ops? Bet you have some nifty fighting skills. Any martial arts training?”

Alex felt the manipulation. Forbes was good at his job, appealing to Locke’s overinflated ego to get an admission, and for a moment Alex considered dropping the act and confiding in the sheriff. It seemed like the smart thing to do considering the circumstances—but, dammit, he didn’t know who he could trust. That sick-dread feeling was still sucking at his gut, like he was the sole swimmer in a pond full of sharks. Was Forbes one of those sharks? He couldn’t tell. Better to keep playing Locke until he felt solid ground under his feet again.

“Bet you’d know how to snap a neck,” Forbes said, his tone reflective with just a hint of admiration. Oh yeah, he was good. “They teach you that sort of thing in the military. Bet it’d be easy for you, like popping the head off a dandelion.”

“Could be.”

“Even on a guy as big as Wade?”

Alex ran his tongue over his teeth and sat back in his chair. “You’re not gonna get anything outta me, old man.” 

Forbes leaned in, his face inches from Alex’s, his breath stinking of tobacco juice and mint gum. “You think you’re smarter than me, don’t you? That I’m some podunk townie cop not worth your time. Think again. I have not had one murder on my watch in thirty years so it really pisses me off that I have the body of a good kid at the morgue and a smart-ass city punk handcuffed to my chair.”

“It pisses me off too. I didn’t do it.”

“Someone did. Someone twisted the kid’s head around until his spine snapped then shoved him into that hole, and you are the only one on scene with those kind of abilities.” He straightened, swiping a hand over his thinning gray hair as his comb-over tumbled out of place. “The charge for now is assaulting a police officer, but it will be murder. You’ll want to call a lawyer.”  

After that, Forbes had him tossed back into his cell.

The case was shaky, at best. More of a grudge, really, because he was the outsider in a town that didn’t like outsiders. Alex had noticed that hole out his bedroom window last night. It was deep enough that someone wandering in the dark could stumble into it and break his neck. Reasonable doubt right there.

But his necklace…

How the hell did that get out there?

A key clicked in the lock of his cell door. One of the deputies, no doubt. He hoped to hell it wasn’t Rhett Swithin. Exhausted, cold to the bone, and hungry, he didn’t feel up to dealing with that asswipe.

The door opened, a shadow filling the frame. Alex’s jeans landed against his chest, his boots with a thump on the floor at his feet.

“Get dressed,” the shadow said.

He squinted, his eyes slow to adjust to the flood of florescent light from the hallway. Then he blinked and squinted again. “Kai?”

Kaikane Alameida stepped back and held the cell door. Alex hadn’t seen him in years—the Hawaiian man was like Pru’s ghost, slipping around unseen, which was why his nickname in the military had been “Spooky”.

But Alex would know that shit-eating grin anywhere. “Jesus Christ.”

“I prefer Kai, but that works too.”

Alex laughed as they embraced. A quick, backslapping hug. “What the hell are you doing here, Alameida?”

“Rescuing the damsel in distress. Duh.” Kai’s voice held the faintest hint of a tropical accent, calling up images of white sand beaches and palm trees. He wore a slate-gray suit, a pale blue shirt that set off the blue of his eyes even more than his copper skin usually did, and a hideous navy tie patterned with pale gray swirls—very unlike his typical frat boy style. He had slicked his black hair back so recently that it still held teeth marks from the comb he’d used. In one hand, he held a briefcase. With his other, he fished around in the pocket of his suit coat for his cell phone.

“Say cheese.” He snapped a picture of Alex with the phone and grinned again. “Ah, priceless. You in a prison jumpsuit. Never thought I’d see the day.” He saved the photo and pocketed the phone. “You’ve really put your foot in it this time, Range.”

Questions whirled in Alex’s head, but he knew better than to waste time asking them now. He stripped out of the jumpsuit, yanked on his jeans and muddy boots, and joined Kai in the hallway. Since he was shirtless when Forbes arrested him, his chest was still bare. Kai handed him a black hoodie that said “Nathanson Consulting” on it in white lettering and some of the puzzle pieces clicked into place. No wonder he suddenly had a get out of jail free card. Money made things happen, made unpleasant things go away, and Sullivan Nathanson, his old C.O., had enough to share.

“How’d Sully find out about it?” he asked once they were outside in the parking lot, beyond the glowering stares of the sheriff and his deputies.

“Sully knows all and sees all,” Kai said and handed over an evidence bag that contained Alex’s necklace.

“Bullshit.”

“Not entirely,” Kai muttered.

Alex slipped the chain over his head, thumbed the bullet, then tucked it and the small, cool cross against his chest. “Seriously, who called him?”

“Nick.”

“So who called Nick?”

“Some woman named Pru Maddox.”

Alex’s heart did a little two-step. He stopped walking. “How’d she know to call him?”

Kai gave him an odd look, a lifted eyebrow. “She went through your phone after the cops took you. Smart lady. Sully, being the suspicious asshole that he is, had a dossier put together on her and I read it on the flight over. Photos included. Nice ass.” His grin returned. “She available?”

Even though he knew Kai was kidding—maybe—Alex felt his jaw tighten, a hot surge of possessive testosterone spilling into his blood. Kai was a playboy. He’d fuck anything with a vagina and a nice set of tits as long as she didn’t say no. When he turned on his charms and flashed his smile, women melted like ice on a summer day. Very rarely did he hear the word no.

“Hands off, Spook,” Alex warned.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. That’s okay. My flight’s waiting anyway. I don’t have time to worship that luscious body properly.” A dreamy smile spread over his lips as if he was imaging doing just that. “Mm. But that won’t stop me from thinking about it.”

“Kai,” Alex said through his teeth, “don’t make me hurt you.”

“Hah. I’d kick your Irish ass into next month.” He laughed and slapped Alex on the back hard enough to rattle teeth. “So like I said, your woman’s a smart cookie. Nick was the last person you called, so she redialed and explained what was up. He called Sully, and here I am. Your lawyer.”

“Yeah right. Since when do you have a law degree?”

“Since Sully forged the documents.” He wiggled his brows. “I passed the bar exam in Maine about an hour ago too.”

“Says the mercenary to the fed. I don’t want to hear this.”

Kai ignored him. “Nick wanted to play the part, but we didn’t think he looked lawyer-y enough. It’s that whole Cowboys and Indians look he has goin’. Jacob—hah, can you image Jacob as a lawyer? And Mal—well, he still needs to work on his people skills before we let him out in public alone.”

“No kidding.” Alex loved the guy like a brother, but Malcolm Cole was about as trustworthy as a starving pit bull trained to fight. About as brutal too. “So that left you.”  

“That left me,” Kai agreed. “I shine up nice when the sitch calls for it.” He tugged the knot of his tie, loosening it, and reached for the driver’s side door of a rented SUV. “Don’t worry, these cops have nothing on ya. A monkey could poke holes in their case.”

Alex slid into the soft leather passenger seat of the car. “Well, that explains one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Why Sully really sent you.”

“Oo oo ah ah,” Kai said, deadpan, and stepped on the gas.

***

“Sully’s probably gonna nail my balls to his ceiling for not dragging you outta here,” Kai said twenty minutes later, studying the outline of Pru’s slim figure standing on her front porch. “Is she worth it?”

Alex opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Yes
, had been the immediate response that jumped to mind, but he felt foolish saying so to Kai of all people. He watched Pru wrap her arms around her middle as if holding herself together, same as she had last night when Forbes dragged him away. Emotion rolled through him, so poignant his vision blurred. She’d cared enough to call Nick for help. That had to mean something.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

“Yeah, you do.” Kai stared at Pru a second longer, then turned in his

seat and the smart-ass clown persona dropped away, revealing a glimpse of the deadly man Alex knew Kai really was.

“I got a couple things to say before I take off.” His blue eyes cut into Alex like shards of glass. He motioned with a jerk of his head toward the house. “See that lady up there? First, don’t fuck it up. She’s good for you; I can tell. Second, she’s the only reason I’m risking my balls, which I happen to like right where they are. I’m getting a distinct danger vibe here, and who better to protect her than the guy that’s goofy in love with her.”

“Hey, whoa. Spook, I’m not—”

“Shut up and listen,” Kai said. “You need to know Sully’s been getting some…ripples…lately.”

Alex groaned. “C’mon, you know I don’t believe in that psychic shit.”

“Yeah, believe in whatever the hell you want, man. It doesn’t change the fact that Sully has instincts like a shark and whatever’s going on …” He trailed off, thumped his hand on the steering wheel and looked at Pru again. She was nervous now, shifting back and forth on her feet.

“You’re probably the one putting her in danger, you know,” he said. “Guys like us, we can’t settle down. Sully thinks someone’s after us.”

The thought of putting Pru in danger sent pain stabbing through Alex’s chest. He wanted to punch Kai for the feeling and gritted his teeth. “Sully always thinks someone’s after us. The man sees conspiracies in line at the grocery store.”

“Like he’s ever done his own grocery shopping.”

“You know what I mean.” Alex exhaled sharply and forced his muscles to relax. His hands had balled into fists and he shook them out. Anger would not do any good. He had to get control of himself, had to think this through. It was true Sullivan was a paranoid son of a bitch, but as much as he hated to admit it, the paranoia came with good reason. Sully’s so-called “ripples” were never,
never
wrong.

“All right, so someone’s after us. Who’s he thinking?”

“Government, military, Interpol, Taliban, little green pygmies.” Kai lifted a shoulder. “Who the fuck knows? We’re not exactly popular guys in certain circles.”

He had a point. Still, it was too much to think about right now, a vague threat, one of Sully’s ripples compared to the very real danger lurking in this town, hanging around Pru.

Alex popped open the door. “I got other problems to deal with, but if those little green pygmies start coming out of the woodwork, keep me in the loop.”

“Don’t laugh. They’re mean little fuckers.” Kai shifted the car into gear. Alex shut the door and backed up a step, but the car didn’t move. The window buzzed down.