Читать книгу A Fatal Romance - June Shaw - Страница 11

“Sorry,” he said. “I shoved on the door before I heard you say not to.”

Was that true? Being around him was supposed to make me forget death. It wasn’t happening. He stepped into Eve’s studio, scanned the damaged paintings and wall, and turned to me. “The glass can be changed, of course, but a sliding glass door won’t keep out a person who’s determined to get in.”

“I know, but neither will most windows or doors. One day I might close in that space.”

“Good because even our best system will only give a warning. It won’t stop a smart thief or worse.” He allowed me a minute to contemplate his words. “So you’ll want us to install the system we talked about?”

He and Eve must have discussed a certain one. “Yes.” I thrust out my hand, letting him know he should go first. He stepped into the den. I didn’t invite him to sit but mentally saw the pistol Eve set in the drawer and remembered how easy she said it was to shoot. Was he a bad guy or great one? I hadn’t decided.

“I’ll check the windows and exterior doors and the wiring in the attic,” he said.

I nodded. “Can you check the windows and doors from outside?”

He gave me a hard stare. With a brief nod, he proceeded out the front door. My breath relaxed. I would keep him in open spaces where other people would be near.

The phone rang, and I grabbed it.

“You’re okay,” Eve said.

“I am never switching roles again.”

“Fine. I saw him come out the front looking unhappy. I was afraid he hurt you and then searched for what was written on the wall but couldn’t find it and stormed outside.”

“Oh, terrific. Yep, I could be here in your house bleeding to death, and you’d be sitting in your plush car across the street.”

“Sunny, I’m sorry. He didn’t try to hurt you, did he?”

“No, but thanks for asking.” I calmed a pinch. “I’m still not totally comfortable about him.”

“But it is kind of exciting to have a man with a dark edge. It makes him rather mysterious.” Her tone hinted of a grin.

My anger flared. “How about if you come here with his dark edge?”

“Come on, Sis. He shouldn’t be there much longer.”

“I ordered the alarm system and asked him to go outside to check all the openings to your house.”

She didn’t respond right away. “Did you know it was drizzling when he got there?”

No, I hadn’t noticed. Maybe that was what made him annoyed. I opened the door and peeked at Eve parked across the street under a mossy branch of an oak. And saw the falling water had intensified beyond the range of a drizzle. “I’d better go,” I said and pressed the off button.

Dave was measuring the window on a spare bedroom and making notes when I hustled out to him. “Hi,” I said, cell phone in hand. “My sister just called again. She’ll be here soon. Would you like to come in until it stops raining?”

Fierce eyes peered at mine. “No, thank you. This is obviously where you’d prefer to have me.” He moved off to the next window.

I couldn’t deny his statement. Running inside, I stashed the phone in my pocket, grabbed an umbrella from a stand in the foyer, and ran back out. He stood near a bathroom window and shifted his pad under the soffit, trying to keep his paper dry.

I thrust the open umbrella over him. Within seconds, rain soaked me. I realized he was already drenched. Giving him a weak smile, I offered the umbrella.

He looked at it. At me. At my breasts, outlined through my wet T-shirt. With a sigh, he stamped off to the next window.

Shivering from his gaze or a chill, I wasn’t sure what to do but spied his black dress shoes in what was now a mud puddle. If any shoeprints had remained around Eve’s house, his shoes would cover them. Somebody broke into this house and wanted more from it.

Him?

I snagged a sane thought. I was the one who urged him outside. He was a great-looking guy—a terrific combination of little boy and rugged male—quite possibly my sister’s soul mate, the one she’s been looking for all along.

Rushing behind him, I thrust myself under the roof’s overhang and held the umbrella over his head. He threw me a solemn glance. When he stepped father along the house, I followed with my raised umbrella. At the plywood-covered sliding door, he stopped. “Do you want to wait on this one? Or if you have the glass changed soon, we can install a sensor for it.”

“That would be fine.”

“I don’t want the umbrella, thanks. I’m already wet.” He did look nice with his shirt and slacks clinging to that body with well-defined muscles. “If you want to stay out here to check on what I’m doing, that’s okay, but keep the umbrella to yourself.”

“Check on you? I’m sure you’re doing everything right. I’ll go back inside and get out of your way.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

I rushed in the house. Even wet and chilled I felt a warm blush. Okay, I told myself, the only reason I cared about the man was to make sure he wouldn’t try to harm Eve. I got her on the phone. “Are you watching your guy get soaked?”

“I can’t believe he’s out there like that. Why didn’t you make him stay inside?”

“Grrr.” I wandered through rooms, scanning almost-bare closets in guest bedrooms and opening drawers. What might an intruder have wanted?

“He’s moving to the window on the side of my bedroom,” she reported, keeping me up on his whereabouts. “Maybe he’ll go in there and stay.”

“Sis, I hate to interrupt your musing about a man, but you do remember someone murdered a woman across town? And you recall that somebody broke into your house?”

“Yes, Sunny.” She used her stern voice.

“The man outside is a stranger, no matter how good he looks.”

“Okay, Momma.”

“I’m only trying to protect you.” Heat swelled up behind my eyes, clouding my vision. Giving me a fuzzy picture of the person I hadn’t been able to protect.

“I’m sorry.” Eve spoke in a quiet tone. “Oh, he’s heading for the front door.”

The doorbell chimed. I disconnected with Eve and pulled the door open. Water dripped from Dave’s black hair to his wet face. He swatted a large drop off his ear. “I have what I need for now. I’m too wet to go in the attic today.”

Sadly, I viewed a man soaked from his scalp to his probably ruined shoes. “I’ll get you a towel.”

The skin between his eyes creased. “No, thanks. I’ll be back.” Sliding into his truck, he drove off without hesitation. The rain was only trickling now, too late for him.

Before he turned the corner, Eve left her parking space and drove over.

I went inside, ready to meet her the second she parked in the garage and walked through the connecting door to her kitchen. “Don’t ever ask me to be you again.”

She lifted both hands. “I won’t.”

“You were so wrong to ask me to do that. Suppose he had been a killer?”

“I know. I’m sorry, Sunny.” She grabbed mail from her table.

“I don’t think you are. I think you were being selfish and inconsiderate.”

Her phone rang. She looked relieved to have a reprieve from my gripes. Grabbing the phone, she carried it toward her bedroom. I fumed. Needing the reminder that she was in trouble, I stepped into her studio and glared at her former artwork and words on the wall.

“Detective Wilet wants to see us.” Eve entered the room, lips tightening when she looked at her ruined paintings. She wrenched her gaze away from them toward me. “We need to go to the police station at three. There’s new information in the Daria Snelling case. That’s all he’d tell me.”

In the den, we both checked the frameless clock. Twelve-forty.

“We need to eat. I have tuna in the fridge,” she said. “I’ll make sandwiches.”

“While you’re doing that, I’ll go grab my estimate for Anna’s window.” I walked out, spied her nosy neighbor’s son Royce driving away in his mother’s five-year-old sedan, and scurried between the fences to the rear, wishing they were down so I could see into both yards. Could a burglar have hidden in either one?

On my street, Miss Hawthorne stepped out her front door and thrust on her floppy straw hat. Trowel in hand, she descended her porch steps, more light-footed than I would have imagined. Was she wearing her girdle? Even the thought made me aware of the moist heat now that the sun came blaring out.

A few steps from my house, I experienced excitement creeping through my chest. Surely the detective had more information about the break-in at Eve’s.

A sudden rush of uneasiness replaced my content. Someone just broke into her house on the next street. We resembled each other. I scanned my surroundings and found cars normally home at this time of day were parked where they belonged. The front of my house appeared normal. I pulled the key out of the pocket of my jeans, opened the door, and peeked in. Quiet descended. Was it quieter than usual?

“Don’t be stupid, Sunny,” I told myself. Still, I wanted to get outside fast.

Ripping off my wet garments, I tossed them in the tub and slipped into similar dry clothes. I grabbed the estimates and hurried back out. Scurrying to Eve’s house, I hoped my sudden fear diminished once we spoke to the detective. I rang the front doorbell to give her warning, let myself in with my key, and was struck with the urge to hug her. There couldn’t be a connection between the break-in here and Daria’s murder. I could never bear the thought of anyone trying to kill her, and I would do everything in my power to prevent that from happening.

I hadn’t prevented one sister’s death. That couldn’t happen to my remaining one.