Dead Right (21 page)

some sort of pervert? Suggest he might’ve molested my own
sister?
”

He shoved a hand through his hair. What he’d read in her mother’s journal this morning had him worried. There was more going on with the reverend’s disappearance than a simple mugging gone awry or a wife hoping to claim some life insurance money.

“What about that dildo?” he asked. “It had to come from somewhere, didn’t it? It was found in the trunk of
your
father’s car. Along with your
stepsister’s
underwear. Do you know what that tel s me?”

“I don’t want to hear,” she cried, the tears coming faster.

“It tel s me it probably belonged to him. What are the chances that some unknown assailant molested your sister and planted the evidence in your father’s vehicle?”

“You don’t know
anything,
Hunter! It’s possible.”

“Why do you think Grace said she wasn’t molested? For her own sake? Or for yours!”

“You’re fired!” she screamed. “Go to the airport and leave my car in long-term parking. I’l pick it up later. Use the rest of the money to buy a ticket. I don’t care. I just want you gone!”

She started running. But he caught up with her and, grasping her arm, turned her around. “So I’m the bad guy now?” he asked in frustration. “Or is it easier to blame me than deal with the truth?”

“You don’t know the truth!”

“I know your father might’ve been a pedophile!”

She lifted her hand as if to strike him, but he grabbed her wrist. Then the fight drained out of her and she dropped her arm to her side. “I can’t take it anymore.” She stared up at him, her expression tortured. “I just want—” Her hand rose again, but with a completely different intent. Touching his cheek, she slid her fingers over the line of his jaw, his lips, his chin, as if seeking some kind of solace.

Hunter told himself not to react. The hunger in him was too strong, and she was confused and distraught. But when she raised her eyelids, he could see tears glistening on her lashes. “Tel me it isn’t true.”

He couldn’t. But he wanted to erase the pain, to ease her burdens for a little while. Meeting her mouth lightly with his own, he whispered, “It’s okay, Maddy. You’re going to be okay.”

He’d meant to let it go at that, with a sweet, comforting kiss. But she parted her lips and pressed them to his so quickly and greedily that he was soon cradling her head in his palm as he met the thrusts of her tongue. She responded eagerly, frantical y, compel ing him to take the kiss even deeper until they were so out of breath they broke apart panting.

“This isn’t wise,” he managed to say. “You’re not thinking rational y. Hel ,
I’m
not thinking rational y. Kissing you like that is making me want…too much.”

She didn’t seem to hear the first part, only the second.

Taking his hand, she began to run for the shelter of some trees, pul ing him with her.

Ray pushed his shopping cart up one aisle and down the next. He didn’t have much money for groceries. Work was scarce during the winter months, and he liked saving most of his change for the porn sites and the pool hal . But now that he was out and about, he actual y felt safer, less trapped. Maybe he should move away, find a new place to live. He’d often wondered if it would come to this.

But where would he go? And what about money? He was barely surviving as it was. He leased his trailer, had nothing but the broken down furniture inside it and his old truck. And he couldn’t sel his truck or he wouldn’t be able to work. Besides, he liked Stil water. He knew everyone and could only imagine how strange and lonely it’d be anywhere else. Lord knows he couldn’t live any closer to his mother and sister. It’d been difficult enough spending so much time with them the last few weeks. They henpecked him so badly he’d want to kil them inside of twenty-four hours.

No, leaving wasn’t the answer. If he wasn’t here to guard his secrets, the truth might come out. Then the police would come after him no matter where he was. And his mother, sister and friends—
everyone—
would despise him. Worse, his ex-wife would crow to the world that she’d been right about him al along and he’d live as a hunted man. Or he’d go to prison.

He shuddered. He couldn’t go to prison.

If he was careful, he wouldn’t have to, he told himself. He was getting worked up again, that was al . He just had to lie low, like he’d decided back at the house.

But then he overheard Beth Ann Cole, who worked in the bakery section, talking to Mona Larsen while she bagged a few donuts.

“He’s
cute,
isn’t he?”

“Gorgeous! But who is he?”

“Hunter something or other.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“He’s that P.I. from California. The one Madeline hired.”

P.I.?
Ray had been pushing his cart toward the dairy section, but at this he paused and pretended to consider a box of cookies. A P.I.
A private investigator.

Shit!

“God, even his job sounds sexy,” Mona was saying with an excited laugh. “How long do you think he’l be in town?”

“Until he solves the case, I guess.”

“Wel , then, he could be here for quite a while. Maybe we should introduce ourselves.”

“Why not?”

“Who’ve you been seeing lately?” Mona asked, and the conversation veered off the subject that interested Ray, so he moved on. But Beth Ann and Mona weren’t the only ones talking about recent developments. When he went through the checkout, Lizzie brought up the investigation.

“Did you see the flyer?” She motioned with her head to indicate a blue sheet of paper taped above her register.

Ray’s eyes weren’t what they used to be. He leaned closer so he could read the smal print.

Please stop by the police station to view pictures of two pairs of girls’ panties found in my father’s Cadil ac this past week. I’m offering a $500 reward to anyone who might be able to identify who they belonged to or offer any other information on their origin. Let’s final y discover what happened to my father—and your pastor, friend and neighbor. Thanks for your help. Madeline Barker.

Five hundred dol ars? That would have everyone in town traipsing down to try their luck.

Anger and panic swirled together, creating a deadlock inside him. Damn Madeline Barker. Ray had wanted to include her in the fun he and Barker had had with Rose Lee and Katie, but the preacher wouldn’t hear of it. As far as he was concerned, Madeline was too pure to be defiled. But she deserved the same treatment, and this was proof.

Barker had used Ray’s daughter easily enough.

The anger coalesced, curling through his veins like smoke…. Anger that Barker could protect his own daughter while using his. Anger that Madeline, of al people, would be a threat to him.

“Are you going to go over and take a look?” Lizzie asked.

Ray nodded. As frightened as he was, he had to appear to do his part. Then he had to stop Madeline from pushing the investigation any farther.

Even if it meant staging another accident.

Madeline didn’t care that she’d left her car on the highway. She didn’t care that she’d slept with only one other man in her life. Or that she’d known Hunter Solozano for only a couple of days. She was hurting so badly, she had to end the pain. And when he touched her, it was gone.

Ducking behind some large oaks, where they’d be shielded from the road, she grabbed his shirt and pul ed him to her again, desperate for his kiss.

“Maddy.” She could tel by the way he’d spoken her name that he was trying to persuade her to slow down. He obviously hoped to discourage her, to talk her out of what she wanted to do. But it wouldn’t work.

“Don’t ruin it,” she said. “Just kiss me and keep kissing me—”

Burying his hands in her hair, he backed her up against the tree as his mouth met hers. She reveled in its warmth, the solidity of his larger body, the pressure of his erection, his need answering hers. His arms around her felt so satisfying, she couldn’t think about anything else. Except the craving to feel him inside her, to let him carry her away from al thought and memory.

She began fumbling with his pants.

“Maddy, wait.”

“Don’t talk,” she whispered.

“But you’re going to make it too difficult to stop. It’s been a long time for me. Do you understand?”

“I don’t want to stop.” She silenced him with another kiss, the kind that promised him she wouldn’t refuse at the last minute.

She felt the change in him when he gave up his struggle to resist. He lifted her skirt and his fingers grazed her bare thighs.

She shivered, almost too sensitive to withstand even such light contact. But she kept kissing him. She was afraid if she stopped, he would, too. Then they might reconsider.

“Is this what you want?” he asked.

“Yes.” She moaned when he touched her.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he whispered as they fumbled with their clothing. But his voice sounded ragged, desperate—as desperate as she was—and she wasn’t about to stop him. Not now. He’d already taken a condom from his wal et. While he opened it, she felt the velvety softness of him in her palm and experienced a thril of satisfaction as his muscles jumped in response.

“God, I hope you don’t regret this,” he said.

“Just make the pain go away,” she begged. Then she slid her panties to one side and stared into his eyes, eyes that were stormy and intense as he lifted her up and buried himself inside her.

13

I
t was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Despite the cool, overcast weather, Hunter could feel the quiver in his muscles from bearing her weight, the sweat on his back, her chest rising and fal ing against his own as they recovered from the physical strain and the emotional intensity.

“You okay?” he murmured.

She nodded, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was busy adjusting her clothes. “My office is on the way home.

We’l stop there and check for outbound flights. If we can get you on a plane today, we’l go home and grab your guitar and your computer.” She hesitated. “Or…maybe we should wait for your luggage.”

“You can send it on when it arrives,” he said, as eager to leave Mississippi as she was to see him go. They couldn’t continue on as if nothing had happened. If he stayed, he’d remember the feel of her every time he looked at her. And he’d want her again.

“I’l do that.” She seemed relieved that he’d let her off so easily.

He fastened his pants. “I’l return your money before I leave.”

“No, I—this was my fault. You deserve the week’s pay.”

“That’s okay.” He hadn’t real y done anything yet. If he couldn’t help Madeline resolve the questions that were tormenting her, he at least wanted to leave her no worse off than he’d found her. It was bad enough that he’d just broken one of his cardinal rules and had sex with a client. “I don’t need it. I’l write you a check.”

She didn’t answer. Careful not to even brush hands for fear the passion that had ignited between them would start up again, they walked back to the car. But there was a truck parked behind the Corol a. And a man was peering into it.

A moment later, he came toward them.

“Oh, God,” Madeline said, her step faltering.

“What?” Hunter murmured.

“I recognize that walk.”

“Who is it?”

“Mike Metzger. He’s back.”

Madeline was so shaken from the frenzy that had just occurred, she wasn’t sure she could face Mike. It’d been five years since she’d seen him, even longer since she’d become convinced he was her father’s kil er.

When he spotted them crossing the field to the highway, he shaded his eyes. She hoped that when he recognized her, he’d get right back in his vehicle and drive away. But he didn’t. He met them about fifteen feet from the road.

Guilt over her brazen behavior, and embarrassment at being caught with her hair mussed and her clothes wrinkled, roiled through her. She felt as if anyone looking on would be able to tel exactly what she and Hunter had been doing behind those oak trees and didn’t relish the idea of her greatest enemy being privy to that knowledge. But guilt and embarrassment were only a smal part of what she felt.

A chil ing apprehension crawled through her, inspired by Mike’s hateful glare and made worse by the fact that he no longer resembled the seemingly harmless, straggly haired stoner he’d once been. Judging by the ropy muscles bulging beneath his clothes, he’d spent much of the past five years weight-training. He had several white supremacy tattoos to go along with the added weight.

“What are you doing in Stil water?” she asked, refusing to show her fear.

“I live in Stil water, no thanks to you.”

“Why’d you stop here?”

“When I saw your car, I thought someone was broken down.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“No one’s keeping you from leaving.”

His dark eyes flicked Hunter’s way. “Who’s this?”

Hunter stood close enough that she could smel the aftershave she’d breathed in when she’d buried her nose in his neck—and that brought back the very recent and vivid memories of what they’d done. “He’s a—” she fought to steady her voice “—a private detective from California.”

“A
P.I.?
” There was no mistaking the panicky edge in Mike’s voice. “God, you don’t give up, do you?”

“I want the truth, Mike.”

“That’s fine, as long as your so-cal ed truth has nothing to do with me. I didn’t touch your lousy self-righteous hypocritical father!”

“And you’d tel me if you did touch him?” she chal enged.

“Just leave me the hel alone. Do you hear? I won’t go back to prison. I’l kil myself first.” He lowered his voice.

“And I’l take you with me.”

“That’s enough.” Hunter stepped between them. “Get back in your truck and keep driving.”

Although Mike was about the same height as Hunter, his arms were so big they didn’t lie flat against his sides anymore, and his hands had curled into fists. But Hunter didn’t seem intimidated. He even took a step forward. “I suggest you go
now.
”

“Or what?” Mike asked, chuckling softly.

“Or you’l be asking for trouble you don’t need.”