Repressed (Deadly Secrets) (11 page)

“What’s going to happen, Kenneth?”

“I don’t know, but something bad. Samantha Parker found that body.”

“And?”

“
And?
What if she was there—?”

He was getting worked up. Kenneth Saunders was only an asset so long as he didn’t lose his shit. “She wasn’t there that night, Kenny. End of story.”

“But—”

Margaret was seriously losing her patience. She had guests waiting downstairs. He
knew
that. “It’s been eighteen years. Don’t you think Sam would have mentioned something about it by now if she had been there? Use your brain, Kenny. No one knows anything about what happened, and it’s going to stay that way. Unless, of course, you start flipping out, in which case, people
will
take notice. And if that happens, I guarantee I won’t let you drag me down with you.”

Kenny grew quiet on the other end of the line.

There. That ought to shut him up for good.

Shuffling echoed from the doorway, and Margaret glanced in that direction, then sucked in a breath. He stood in the shadows of her bedroom. She couldn’t see his face but instantly knew who he was. The same man she’d been waiting for. Her gaze slid across a hard chest and chiseled abs covered by a pressed white dress shirt, over slim hips encased in spendy black slacks, then finally down thick, powerful legs that knew just how to take control.

Arousal burst in the center of her body and radiated outward until heat was all she felt. Into the phone, she muttered, “I have to go.”

“Wait,” Kenny said.

“Remember what I said, Kenny. And don’t be late tonight. It won’t look good.”

Margaret clicked off the phone before Kenny could whine again and pushed to her feet. The thigh-length black cocktail dress she’d slipped on for the event hugged every curve and showed off her best asset—her legs. She knew from the approval in his eyes that he noticed.

Anticipation and excitement rolled like fire through her blood. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

“I know. Was that Saunders?”

She nodded.

“And?”

“And he’s not a problem.”

“You’d better hope he stays that way.”

A whisper of fear rushed down her spine. Fear mixed with lust and sin and temptation that only pushed her forward. “My husband’s downstairs.”

He didn’t move. But his voice was like sandpaper and velvet when he held out his hand, drawing her to him like a moth to a flame. “Then, this time, you’d better not scream.”

A light snow fell as Ethan pulled into Samantha’s driveway Friday night. It wasn’t sticking to the ground yet, but the kids at school had been beside themselves as the weather threatened all day.

Ethan hadn’t been able to concentrate much either, but his distraction had nothing to do with the weather. Between lying awake all night thinking about Samantha and the remains they’d found behind her house, then catching glimpses of her at school between classes, all he could focus on was taking that worried look from her eyes and replacing it with the smile he’d seen when he’d kissed her in the woods.

That kiss still radiated through his toes every time he thought about it. Tonight he didn’t want to talk about what they’d found. Didn’t want to talk about the gossip he’d heard at school. Didn’t want to do anything but take Samantha’s stress away and have a good time. And kiss her again. Several times if she let him. He just hoped she wanted the same things.

He jogged up the front steps and knocked. The porch light illuminated small flakes floating in the air. Memories of snowball wars with his brothers filled his mind as the cool air enveloped him, sending a shiver down his spine. But when the door pulled opened, a whole other kind of winter fun seeped into his head.

Ethan’s mouth went dry and fell open.

A strapless black jumpsuit nipped in at Samantha’s waist, accentuating her cleavage and showing off her curves. Some gauzy, sheer overlay puckered around her waist and flitted down her hips, showcasing the wide cut of the leg, making her look like a sinful mermaid. The sheer black scarf she’d wrapped around her neck peeked out from behind the mass of curly hair falling down her shoulders, emphasizing the long, sexy line of her throat, making him want to use it to pull her in and never let go.

“You’re letting in the cold, Dr. McClane.” She tugged him into the house and closed the door at his back.

Maybe, but heat was suddenly all he felt. “And you’re gonna freeze dressed like that.”

Not that he’d mind. If she got cold, he was more than willing to offer his body heat to keep her warm.

“Tell me something, Ms. Parker.” He watched the sexy sway of her hair as she turned to grab her jacket from the coat tree in the entry hall. “Do you always dress like sin when attending political parties?”

Approval lit her eyes as she shrugged into her coat. “No. But I rarely get to dress up. Looks like I made a good choice.”

“Did you ever.” His gaze swept over her, from the top of her curly head to the tips of her hot-pink toes peeking out beneath the black fabric in her strappy black heels. “How the heck did you get into that thing?”

She fluffed her hair from the collar of her coat. “Very carefully. I’ll probably have to peel it off when the night’s over.”

A heavy tingling shot through his body, and he tipped his head to the side. “Stop. You’re torturing me here.”

Laughing, she grabbed her purse. “No, torture is where we’re headed next. Let’s go so we can get out of there and get on with dinner.”

When they were on the road, she shifted in her seat, then smoothed her hair back from her face in that nervous way he’d come to anticipate. “I should warn you that we’re going to Margaret Wilcox’s house.”

“The English teacher?”

She nodded. “Her husband’s going to announce his candidacy for the Senate tonight. He wanted to do it here, in their hometown, first, just a small local deal. I don’t think it’s going to be a big party, but there will probably be a few reporters hanging around.”

Light from the dash illuminated her face and made her hair look even darker. “You and Margaret don’t seem to get along that well. Why are you going?”

She relaxed against the leather seat. “Because Jeff asked me to be there. Trust me, if Margaret had asked, I’d have said no. My mother contributed a hefty sum to Jeff Kellogg’s campaign, and we’ve been friends for years.”

Ethan sucked in a breath. Jeff Kellogg. He’d already suffered through Will Branson and Ken Saunders. Now he had to face Jeff Kellogg? Son of a bitch. His situation was just getting better by the day.

“Margaret will do anything to make me feel uncomfortable. So just be prepared. I have no intention of staying long.” She pointed. “Take the next left.”

He wanted to whip the car around and get the heck out of Hidden Falls for good, but being the responsible adult he’d worked hard to become, he turned where she indicated.

They drove up a long paved private road flanked on both sides by gnarled oak. Just as they turned the last corner, a large house came into view, a tower of stone and glass and wood. Warm light spilled through the massive windows. Alternating rooflines framed broad balconies and intimate verandahs. As Ethan continued up the drive, he spotted a circular drive complete with trees decked out in white twinkle lights and an illuminated waterfall. A parking attendant dressed in a black suit beckoned them closer.

Ethan’s nerves were shot by the time he pulled to a stop. Beside him, Samantha reached for the door handle. “One hour. I promise we won’t stay a second longer.”

The attendant opened her door before Ethan could stop her from getting out. Closing his eyes briefly, he drew in a calming breath, then let it out. Did it again until he felt like his lungs weren’t about to explode. Part of agreeing to Thomas’s case had been about facing his own demons, right? If he could make it through the next hour, he’d have done that. Then maybe he could let go of the past once and for all.

The attendant walked around and opened his door. Ethan climbed out and handed the man a five. The attendant thanked him, took the keys, then climbed in and drove off with their getaway car.

Samantha eyed him warily as she pulled her coat tighter around her. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.” Ethan knew she’d noticed his strange behavior, but at the moment he couldn’t even muster up a smile. And there was no way he could tell her why. Especially here. Placing a hand at the small of her back, he ushered her up the wide stone steps. “Let’s just go in so we can get this over with.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Thanks for coming with me.”

His stomach twisted tighter. She wouldn’t be thanking him soon if Kellogg recognized his face.

Nerves bounced through every inch of his body, but to keep himself distracted from the horror that waited on the other side of that massive double door, he tried to remember the lesson Samantha had taught that day in class. Something about chemical bonding—sharing electrons, stealing electrons. Crap, he couldn’t remember. Why wasn’t his brain working?

They reached the top step, and Samantha leaned forward to ring the bell. Voices and laughter echoed from inside the house. The right side of the enormous mahogany door opened seconds later, and a woman in a black maid’s outfit gestured them in. She took their coats and pointed down the wide hall toward the back of the house.

Samantha scanned rooms as they passed. “You’re a saint, Ethan. You know that? And I owe you big for this.”

He didn’t feel like a saint. He felt like a fake. A giant fake who was about to be discovered.

The great room was crowded when they reached the threshold. People chatted in small groups, sitting or standing around plush furnishings. Waiters mingled with trays of food and drinks. Wide, two-story windows looked out to the backyard and the lit-up verandah while soft music echoed from the ceiling and firelight flickered in the enormous stone fireplace to their right.

Samantha smiled at the woman on her left and turned to speak with her. Ethan heard his name but couldn’t focus on what Samantha was saying. Because ahead of him, three men stood in quiet conversation near the windows.

Three men dressed in slacks and dress shirts and ties. Three men he’d never expected to see together again in this lifetime.

Something was up.

“Ethan?” Sam said his name again. He still didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead. Growing worried, she laid a hand on his arm.

Ethan startled and looked down. “Yeah?”

His eyes were a little dazed. His focus distracted. Did he not like crowds? He’d seemed fine at school. “This is Pearl Hamilton. She owns the café on Main Street.”

Ethan offered a tight smile, one Sam had never seen on his face. “Nice to meet you.” Releasing the sixtyish woman’s hand, he leaned toward Sam and whispered, “I need a drink. Do you want anything?”

“No. I’m fine.”

She watched him walk toward the bar and swipe a hand over his brow. An odd tingle spread down her spine.

“He’s sure handsome,” Pearl said, drawing Sam’s attention back to the gray-haired woman who stood at only four foot ten. “Is he from around here?”

“No. Portland.”

“Hmm.” Pearl’s gaze followed Ethan as he reached for his drink from the bartender. “He looks familiar. How long have you two been dating?”

“Oh, we’re not dating. Just friends.”

“Too bad.” Pearl sighed and tugged on the shawl around her shoulders. “That man’s a looker. And he has big hands. You know what they say about big hands.”

Sam’s cheeks heated as she glanced back at Ethan. But the flutter in her stomach had more to do with the word “friend” than Pearl’s comment. Especially because saying it made her immediately remember that kiss in the woods and what she’d been ready to do to that so-called friend before Grimly had changed their plans with his wild barking.

She watched the muscles in his shoulders bunch and roll as he lifted his drink and tossed it back. Being friends was good, right? Friends was safe. She was nuttier than a Snickers bar on a good day. Someone like him would figure that out sooner rather than later. It was better to be friends and let him down gently tonight when they had dinner alone, rather than allow him to get close and see too much.