Читать книгу The Man From Falcon Ridge - Rita Herron - Страница 12

The next two days as Hailey cleaned the house, she discovered a few nice antiques in the parlor, an iron bed in the master bedroom and a Chippendale sofa in the sitting room. The claw-foot dining-room table also added an ambience to the dreary interior. Painting the rooms would definitely spark new life to the inside.

But painting would keep Rex Falcon around longer, which was both a blessing and a curse. Rex distracted her from the fact that Thad might be looking for her, and kept her from dwelling on the fact that people had died in the house.

But his presence also unnerved her on a sexual level.

Not that he’d made any kind of advance toward her. But occasionally she sensed him watching her from a distance. Studying her as if he possessed a keen sight that could see inside her.

Another reason she’d maintained her distance. Her secrets would stay safely hidden.

Unless Thad decided to look for her.

His parting words echoed in her head, I’ll never let you go, Hailey. You’re mine forever.

Fighting the fear threatening to consume her, she headed up to shower before she drove to town for supplies. Then she’d meet the owners of the bed-and-breakfast and ask them to post an advertisement for her business on their bulletin board.

As soon as she undressed, the cool air inside the house brushed her nerve endings. It was almost as if someone was in the room with her. A ghost maybe?

No, that was ridiculous. Shaking off her foolishness, she climbed into the shower. The warm water soothed her, but when she closed her eyes, fingers of tension coiled inside her. She could almost feel Rex’s heated gaze linger over her naked body. His hands trailing down her damp breasts. His lips pressing along her sensitive skin, loving her.

She jerked her eyes open. She’d never lusted for a man before, especially like this. Not even Thad, who she’d actually considered sleeping with, and he’d appeared to be charming, educated and a professional. So why was she fantasizing about Rex Falcon, a mysterious, dangerous man she’d only met?

The isolation—that was the only explanation.

The floor squeaked above her and she froze. The attic. Were there squirrels or raccoons inside? Or could someone have climbed in there to hide? A homeless person or stranded hiker might want refuge from the elements in the dead of winter. But she hadn’t seen signs of anyone in the house when she’d first arrived.

She slipped on her terry-cloth robe and padded to the door, eased it open and listened. Another squeak. Rex?

No, Rex was working in the first-floor bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed down the hall, then unlocked the door to the staircase. The old-fashioned house had very poor lighting, and darkness shrouded the narrow spiral stairway, the scent of musk and some pungent odor she didn’t recognize stifling. Maybe an animal had gotten inside. A hawk or vulture or even a bat.

Holding her breath, she started up the stairs, but darkness trapped her. She clutched the stair rail, unable to make her feet move. Panic overtook her, and her vision clouded.

She was a little girl. Alone. Scared.

Someone pushed her, shoved her forward. She was terrified, clutching her stomach. A harsh hand gripped hers and dragged her anyway. Her knees hit the steps, and she cried, but he jerked her on, blood trickling down her legs. A sob welled in her throat. Her throat clogged. A screeching sound echoed from above.

He flung her inside the room and shut the door, pitching her into the cavern.

DAMMIT. REX HAD TRIED to search the attic while Hailey showered, but now she was coming upstairs to find him. He fumbled for an excuse as he closed the trunk of memorabilia he’d been scrounging through. So far, he’d found nothing.

Deciding on his story, he headed down the steps.

A pang of concern hit him when he saw Hailey. She was frozen on the staircase, her hand clutching the rail in a white-knuckled grip, her face deathly pale.

His brain ordered him not to get involved, but instincts forced reason aside. “Hailey?” He lowered his voice to the soft, crooning pitch he used with the hawks. “What’s wrong?”

She startled, her eyes drifting back into focus. “Rex?”

He nodded. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”

“I…I don’t know.”

He pried her icy hand from the rail and led her away from the entry. Her frightened eyes trapped him in their clutches. “What’s wrong?”

She tugged at the top of her robe, looking confused. His gaze fell to the opening, tempting him, but purple bruises marred the creamy skin of her neck. Anger bolted through him, along with protective instincts. She reminded him of one of the injured birds that had been battered by the hypocrisies of mankind.

“Did something happen?”

“I…I thought someone was up there.”

“It was me,” he said. “I finished with the bathroom cabinets, and I was going to replace the hardware. I thought the owners might have left some of the original pieces in the attic.”

She nodded, her lower lip trembling. A needy part of him that hadn’t seen daylight in years surged to life.

But he’d never shaken the fear that he had violent tendencies, that he could prey on the weaker like the raptors. Or that he belonged alone, that no woman would understand him, much less overcome the fact that his father was a convicted murderer.

She ran a hand through her hair, drawing him to the damp strands and the way they cupped her delicate face. There were scratches on her palms that he hadn’t noticed earlier. Had she gotten them cleaning, or had they been there before?

“I’d better get dressed,” she said. Suddenly looking panicky, she fled to her bedroom.

His chest squeezed with anger and other emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge. He couldn’t let his guard down around this woman, worry about her problems or give in to this wild urge to be with her. He had too much work to do on his father’s case.

Still, he wondered who had hurt her.

WHAT HAD HAPPENED back there in the attic stairwell?

Hailey hurriedly dressed, trying to warm herself. Even though the rusty furnace rumbled, she was cold all the way to her bones. Why had she been afraid to climb those stairs?

It wasn’t as if she’d been in that attic before.

She massaged her temple, trying to remember her childhood. When she was five and she’d misbehaved, her foster father had locked her in a closet. Maybe he’d shut her in an attic, too, and she’d forgotten. She had developed an uncanny way of taking herself out of her body when situations had gotten too bad….

Shaking off the disturbing memory, she grabbed her purse. She’d drive to town, forget the past and steer herself back on track.

Rex met her at the bottom of the steps. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m going to town for supplies.”

“Why don’t I drive you?” Rex offered. “I need to pick up some things, too. You can buy paint for the interior walls while we’re there. If we get snowed in, I can work on the inside.”

Hailey frowned, but reminded herself she’d hired him to do a job. She could take care of herself. Besides, if Rex Falcon had intended her harm, he’d had ample opportunity to hurt her. In this remote area, he could have killed her and no one would ever know.

A chill engulfed her at the thought. How long had the Lyles lay dead in the house before their bodies had been discovered? Had Rex lived nearby when the family was slaughtered?

REX SILENTLY CURSED HIMSELF for insisting on driving Hailey. Her trip into town would have been the perfect opportunity for him to search the premises. But she’d looked so vulnerable and alone, his mouth had betrayed his brain.

Besides, he had to face the town sooner or later. Word of his return had most likely already spread. He needed to question the locals, too, especially the sheriff.

Should he tell Hailey who he was before someone else did?

Probably.

But her rose-scented shampoo swirled around him, and the tender skin of her throat made him itch to touch her. Sleet slashed the windshield, the defroster working overtime to clear the fog, adding to the tension as he steered his Jeep down the mountain road. The minute Hailey realized his father was imprisoned for the hatchet murders, she’d look at him differently. As if he was evil. Just like the kids had when he was younger. And just like Sharon, the woman he’d dated in Arizona, had a few years back.

Another reason he avoided relationships.

“Where are you from?” he asked, determined to learn more about her.

She fidgeted, clasping her hands together. “Denver.”

“What brought you to Tin City?”

She burrowed deeper inside her coat. “I wanted a fresh start. I’ve always been drawn to the mountains.”

“You mentioned opening an antiques business? Won’t that be hard in the mountains?”

She shrugged. “Tourists like to browse in small shops. With some advertising, the Internet auction houses and the ghost stories to add to the flavor, I think I can make it work. Besides, I worked at an auction house before.”

She was going to use the tragedy and his family’s pain to promote her business. “How about your family?”

“I don’t have any.” She fidgeted with her hair, as if she wasn’t quite used to the cut, then turned to stare out the window. He wanted to ask more, but again her scent enticed him to forget. Made him ache to reach out and comfort her.

But her body language indicated she wouldn’t welcome his touch. Better he keep his distance. He couldn’t afford to care for her, and he had to remember it.

REX HAD ASKED so many questions. Did he have an ulterior motive? Could he possibly be working for Thad?

The piercing cold seeped through her as she studied him. His jaw was covered with beard stubble, his mouth set in a tight line, his dark eyes focused on the road. And his big hands…they were wrapped around the steering wheel now. But earlier they’d stroked her with a tenderness that had surprised her. Would he understand if she confided her past to him? If she told him about Thad?

No…she couldn’t allow herself to open up to anyone. Much less a dark man like Rex.

The rest of the ride passed in a strained silence, the sleet and wind adding to the tension. Hailey grocery shopped in the small supermarket, stocking up on basics. The paint selection in the hardware store went quickly, although people stared and whispered behind their backs just as they had in the grocery store. Did they think she was crazy for buying a house where a family had been murdered?

Painful childhood memories surfaced. How many times had she attended a new school and been the center of gossip? She’d been the little orphan girl nobody wanted.

Rex frowned as they stepped up to the cash register. Hailey paid the elderly man behind the register in cash.

“You the lady who bought the Hatchet House?”

Hailey shifted on her heels. “Yes.”

The old man cut his gaze toward Rex. “You’re one of the Falcon boys, ain’t you?”

Rex stiffened beside her and offered a curt nod. “Rex.”

“I thought you boys were gone.” He leaned back in his cane-back chair, his eyes bulging. Several customers turned and stared. A white-haired woman in a purple knit pantsuit pressed a hankie to her mouth, and another lady ushered her kids out the door, not even bothering to button their coats before braving the elements.

“No, I’m back at Falcon Ridge.” Rex’s boots clicked on the floor as he strode out the door. Hailey followed, wondering at the hostile atmosphere between the men.

Granted she had her reasons for being wary of Rex, but the townspeople had almost seemed afraid of him….

REX’S RESOLVE to exonerate his father grew stronger as he left the hardware store. This time he wouldn’t let the locals run him and his brothers off. Not until he knew the truth.

He drove back up the mountain road, his body tight with tension, the Jeep occasionally skidding on the icy pavement. Though fog and snow enveloped them in the vehicle together, thankfully, Hailey remained quiet. She seemed lost in her own world, oblivious to his problems.

“Thanks for driving,” Hailey said as they parked in front of her house.

“No problem.” He killed the engine, then jumped out and carried the paint and hardware supplies to the storage room while Hailey unloaded the grocery bags onto the front porch.

Late-afternoon sunlight splintered through the forest, flickering off her reddish-brown hair, reminding him again of a red-tailed hawk. But the owl’s incessant cry for a mate echoed in his mind, and the wind whipped those long strands around her face, tempting him to touch her. They were alone here together. Inside, they could light a fire. It would be cozy.

Jeez, he was only feeling this way because of the town’s reaction. That and the natural attraction of man to woman. Not because Hailey was special or could be anything important in his life.

Rattled, he suddenly felt a desperate need to escape her for a while, and an even more desperate need to focus on his reason for returning to Falcon Ridge.

“I’m going to the house to pick up some tools to repair the kitchen sink,” he said curtly. “And I need to check on this injured hawk I found in the woods. I’ll be back later.”

Her cheeks glowed with the cold as she nodded, her body relaxing slightly as if she was relieved to see him leave.

He jumped in the Jeep and started the engine, then ripped across the icy dirt drive, eager to put Hailey out of his mind.

He’d hike in the woods, clear his head, talk to the only creatures in life who understood him—the birds of prey.

Then he’d drive back to town and question the sheriff to see what he remembered about the murders.

AN ODD ODOR PERMEATED the house. It smelled like gardenias… A pile of dead ones lay on the table.

Hailey’s breath caught.

What in the world? How… Who had put dead flowers on her table?

Was the person still inside?

She paused and listened, her breath wheezing in the tense silence. Nothing. Except another scent—cigarette smoke…and aftershave. Old Spice?

The smell turned her stomach, reminded her of her third foster father.

A creaking sound jerked her head toward the stairs.

Maybe there was a vagrant nearby who wanted her to leave? Or a ghost? Or had Thad found her already?

Perhaps she should call the police, or Rex. But then she’d have to tell them about Thad. For all she knew, he’d spread the word that she’d stabbed him in the eye, and the cops were looking for her. They might even arrest her. With Thad’s connections, she’d end up rotting in a jail cell for assault and battery when she’d only been defending herself.

Grabbing her cell phone from her purse and a kitchen knife for protection, she slowly moved through the parlor. The floor squeaked again as she walked, a sharp wind whistling off the thin windowpanes. Nothing downstairs, so she slowly climbed the staircase. An ominous foreboding tickled her neck as if she wasn’t alone.

Then she spotted the attic door. A note had been stuck on the wooden frame. “Leave the Hatchet House or you’ll end up like the Lyles.”

She swallowed hard, then inched closer to study the photograph taped below the note. In the picture, the family was lying in a river of blood, gashes from the hatchet exposing bare bones, their eyes bulging in horror.

Her stomach convulsed as she staggered down the steps to escape. The sound of footsteps creaked again.

Whoever had put the picture on her wall was still inside and they were right behind her….