Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (17 page)

“Yes, but I don’t have that kind of equipment.”

Brody stood, carried his empty plate and glass to the sink, and turned back to her.
“I’ve got what you need at our office in Mobile. I’ll get it and come back here tomorrow
afternoon and show you how to use it.”

Wishing she had Bri’s gift for saying something outlandish
to break the sudden tension, Samantha smiled her thanks at his offer. At his answering
grin, she mentally shook her head. This was a good man, a war hero with the medals
and scars to prove it. He was Zach’s best friend and gorgeous to boot. Why couldn’t
she be interested in him? Brody had the kind of gentlemanly gentleness that any woman
should find irresistible.

As if realizing she had nothing else to say, Brody gave a “See you tomorrow” to no
one in particular and walked out of the kitchen.

The instant she heard the front door close, she turned to Savvy. “Why can’t I be interested
in him? He’s such a good guy.”

She should have known not to ask the question. Her sisters never lied to her and sometimes
told her the painful truth. This time was no different. Looking both compassionate
and slightly amused, Savvy said, “Because you’re hopelessly and irrevocably in love
with another man. That’s why.”

Since denying it would do no good, Samantha chose to ignore the statement. Heading
to their new office, which had once been their grandfather’s study, she said, “Let’s
go see what we can find out about Blaine Marshall.”

“So did anything strike your fancy?” Mary-Jo’s voice held a less-than-hopeful tone.

They were stopped in front of the real estate agent’s office. The exhausted woman
had shown him eight houses, all well within his price range but none that felt right.
He refused to ask himself why he was spending so much time looking for a house he
didn’t know if he would ever live in. If Sam never forgave him, he would own a home
that he might never be able to get off his hands. Even though he’d had some breaks
in life, no one
would ever accuse him of being an optimist. So why the hell was he pursuing this?
Quinn gave a mental shrug. He didn’t have an answer. He only knew he was on a set
course and it led straight to Sam.

Midnight was a small town and the chance of finding the perfect home was slim. Not
that he knew what he wanted, but with every house Mary-Jo had shown him, Quinn had
found himself asking the same question: Would Sam like this house? So far, the answer
had been no.

“And there’s nothing else?”

Her eyes narrowed, Mary-Jo considered him for several seconds. “Well, there is one
more but I doubt it’s what you want.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s an old farmhouse on a small man-made lake. Has twenty acres to it. Several developers
have tried buying it from the owner, but he refuses to parcel it out or sell to someone
who will divide it into lots. The land’s been in his family for over a hundred years.
The house is old but solidly built. Definitely needs some renovations, though. It’s
been on the market forever.”

A memory clicked and Quinn’s heart set up a hard thud. “Can we take a look at it?”

“Sure.” Starting her car again, she pulled back out onto the road. “For a man who
doesn’t even work close by or have family here, you sure seem determined to have a
house here in Midnight.”

Yes, he was definitely acting out of character. Even though he didn’t plan to move
to Midnight, he felt the need to have a house here so that when he came back to visit,
he’d have a place to stay. This thing with Sam was not over, no matter what she said.
Before all of this happened, they’d been headed in the right direction. Charlene’s
murder had caused them to take a major detour,
but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get back to where they once were.

Since Mary-Jo didn’t seem to know who he was or why he wanted a house here, he didn’t
bother to enlighten her. Not talking about himself had become a self-defense mechanism
long before he met Sam. That had to change, because it had been the root of their
problems. He had worked so hard on forgetting what he came from that maintaining a
relationship based only in the present had felt natural. And because he hadn’t wanted
to talk about his past, he hadn’t delved too deeply into hers. Unfortunately it had
backfired. The first real challenge they’d encountered had all but destroyed them.

As they drove out of town, his mind returned to earlier today. Sam had been walking
down the sidewalk talking animatedly with a man. Who was he? An old boyfriend? They
hadn’t looked affectionate with each other, but Sam had definitely been pouring on
the charm. Was she already dating someone else?

“Are there any questions you have about Midnight?”

Pulled from his black thoughts, he answered Mary-Jo’s question. “How old is the town?”

“It was founded in the early nineteenth century by five families out of Mobile. They
decided to branch out and start their own town. Some of their descendants still live
here.”

“What’s the population?”

“About fifteen hundred, give or take a few. We don’t get a lot of new people coming
to Midnight, and fewer who return after leaving. Well, except for the Wilde sisters.
They came back just a few months ago.”

“The Wilde sisters?”

Apparently recognizing she had his interest, she went on. “Oh, there’s an interesting
story there. In fact, more than anyone would’ve ever guessed.”

“Why do you say that?”

She glanced over at him, her eyes behind her bifocals gleaming with excitement. “Well,
of course, I’m not one to gossip.”

Spoken as one who does exactly that. However, Quinn was more than happy to listen.

“Eighteen years ago this past summer, their parents died in what looked to be a murder-suicide.
We moved to Midnight about a year after it happened, but people were still talking
about it.”

Emotion clogged Quinn’s throat, making it hard to swallow. Sam had told him about
her parents’ deaths. And instead of talking with her, offering his sympathy and understanding,
he had thrown her explanation back in her face and walked out the door. Hell, no wonder
she didn’t want to see him again.

“You said ‘what
looked
to be a murder-suicide.’ There were doubts?”

“Oh yes, in fact, the truth was just discovered a few months back. Turns out both
the mother and father were murdered. The killers made it look like a murder-suicide
to cover it up.”

Shit. What that must have done to her. For eighteen years, she had believed her father
was guilty of murdering her mother. To find out it was all a lie and cover-up must
have brought great relief, but devastation, too. He should have been here for her,
helping her through that time. Instead he’d behaved like an ass and hung on to his
hurt pride. Hell, he hadn’t thought he could feel worse.

“So what do you think?”

Quinn had been so immersed in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed that they were now parked
in a small clearing. Before him lay a small, sparkling lake. Opening the car door,
he got out and took in the scenery. Even in winter, when nothing was growing or blooming,
the lake and surrounding trees made an attractive
and serene picture. He could only imagine how it would look in the spring.

He turned to the old farmhouse behind him. Two stories, with a giant wraparound porch
and small individual balconies on the second floor—Sam had called them sleeping porches—and
a tin roof. Even with the weathered exterior, shutters hanging askew from a couple
of windows, and an obvious woodpecker’s hole in the chimney, the charm was undeniable.

This had to be the place Sam had mentioned, he was sure of it. He remembered the conversation
well. They’d been sitting in a noisy restaurant in Atlanta, eating dinner. Sam had
been looking out the window, a wistful expression on her face. Quinn had asked her
what she was thinking. Instead of answering, she had surprised him with the question
“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

Always too practical to be a dreamer, Quinn had said something like Tahiti or Hawaii … he
barely even remembered his response. When he’d asked Sam the same question, she had
surprised him with her thorough, detailed answer. He remembered every single word.
Could almost hear her soft, dreamy voice, as if she had been in another world.

“There’s a place right outside my hometown. An old farmhouse on a small lake surrounded
by all sorts of flowering trees and shrubs. A friend of my granddad’s used to own
it, but he went into a retirement home. I don’t even know if he ever sold it, but
I remember visiting there when I was a kid. The house is beautiful, with a gigantic
wraparound porch, hardwood floors, and sleeping porches for all the second-floor bedrooms.
Once when we were visiting, we stayed long after dark. Savvy, Bri, and I sat on one
of the sleeping porches and listened to the frogs from the pond and the fish jumping.
It was so peaceful, almost magical
.

“I used to imagine how beautiful it would be decorated for Christmas. The entire house
covered in lights, reflecting on the lake. I loved the thought of sitting on one of
the porches, curled up in a blanket, sipping hot cocoa.”

She had abruptly stopped talking and given him a small, self-conscious smile. They’d
gone on to talk about something else, but her words had stuck with him.

His mind already made up, he said, “What’s the asking price?”

Mary-Jo looked both stunned and excited … she was also apparently speechless. When
she didn’t answer, he said again, “Mrs. Deacon, what’s the asking price?”

Recovering quickly, she named a price. Quinn was pleasantly surprised. The amount
seemed more than reasonable. Of course, he hadn’t yet seen the inside of the house.
It could be full of vermin and need a complete gutting. Not that it mattered … his
course was set.

“How much acreage did you say?”

“Right at twenty.”

“How long’s it been for sale?”

She grimaced. “Over five years without a nibble.”

That was understandable. These days it was hard enough for some people to buy any
house, much less one with a lake and acreage. He could do it, though. He’d have to
sell some stock, but it could be done.

“Let me walk around the lake, then I’d like to see the house. If I see nothing to
change my mind, I’ll make an offer.”

Leaving her with a stupefied expression on her face, Quinn started walking. The farther
he went, the more sure he was of his decision. Sam loved this place. How could he
not buy it?

Muffled conversations, squealing children, and the occasional plate being dropped
rivaled the soft background music of the restaurant. Michelle’s Place was one of the
newer restaurants in Midnight. Offering a varied menu, it drew diners who were a mix
of couples on dates and families with children. Samantha much preferred this atmosphere
to that of a stuffy, overpriced restaurant in a big city.

She wasn’t too sure Blaine felt the same way. She’d seen him wince more than once
when the noise level increased.

Offering him a small, flirtatious smile, Samantha said, “So have you found yourself
yet?”

He answered with a charming, self-deprecating grin. “That was probably the worst pickup
line ever, wasn’t it?”

Surprised laughter escaped her before she could catch it. “That was a pickup line?”

“I thought you would be impressed with my sensitive side.”

“So you’re not here to find yourself?”

“Not really. After my girlfriend and I broke up, I knew I needed a change. I quit
my job and was mulling over where I wanted to move. I was going to Florida for a few
days of sun. On the way, I happened to see a sign
for Midnight. The name captured my attention, so instead of going to Florida, I came
here.”

“Are you usually that impulsive?”

“I can be.”

Samantha leaned back in her chair and studied the man across from her. This was their
second dinner date. And so far, despite numerous questions, she still didn’t have
a good grasp on who Blaine Marshall really was.

On the surface, he was an interesting, intelligent man who could converse on a multitude
of subjects. Even though she was going out with him solely to determine if he was
Cruz’s man, both times she had enjoyed herself. There was no attraction there but
he was a pleasant, entertaining dinner companion. That is, if he wasn’t a hired killer.

He had asked several questions about her and her family. Samantha had been just as
vague in her answers as he had been. Not that it really mattered what she told him.
Blaine could ask just about anyone in this town and find out more than he could ever
want to know about the Wilde family.

Their initial research showed Blaine was who he said he was. A mild-mannered former
accountant from Indiana. He seemed uncomplicated, without mystery. She had dated her
share of Blaines. Most of them had been nice guys. But still, she wasn’t completely
convinced of his innocence.

“You said you were headed to Florida. Have you spent much time there?”

Something odd flickered in his eyes. He shrugged, a little too nonchalantly. “Some.”
And then surprising her, his eyes narrowed and in a much harsher tone than normal
he asked, “Why?”

Her heartbeat kicked up. Hmm. Definitely a Florida connection. Her expression one
of surprised innocence,
she said, “No reason. Just asking … getting to know you better.”

As if realizing he’d revealed something he hadn’t intended, he gave another one of
his charmingly boyish grins. “Sorry. I like the beaches but not all my memories of
Florida are good. That’s where my girlfriend grew up.”

“I see. So is that the real reason you were headed to Florida?”

Another grin. “You guessed it. She’s visiting her family and I thought I’d give it
one last shot. I’m just damn glad I saw the sign for Midnight or we never would have
met.”

“You’ve changed your mind about her?”