Читать книгу Bait - Samantha Keith - Страница 9

Chapter 2

What an asshole. Who the hell did he think he was butting into her life? He’d been pleasant since he’d moved in, but he’d been right. She wasn’t interested in guys like him. Oh no. She had her sights set on different characteristics. Besides, he’d only been here two weeks. He couldn’t possibly be the guy she was looking for. Which made him no good to her. Until now, she’d tried to be polite, but screwing up her plan with Ryan had been crossing the line. And now he’d gone from annoying her to making her want to gouge out his persistent, overbearing blue eyes.

She shoved the key in the door and turned the lock. The smooth piece of metal didn’t resist in her hand, nor did the lock click. Her brow furrowed. She’d left the door unlocked? That wasn’t like her. Nearly every citizen in Beaufort didn’t lock their doors, but in Boston, you’d be crazy not to. She swung the door open, flicked on the hall light, and shut the door behind her. It was eerie staying in Hanna’s old house since she’d disappeared. On one hand, she felt closer to her missing friend, and on the other, a constant pit of devastation sucked at her chest with every reminder of Hanna.

Riley had been raised in Beaufort, but her family had moved away shortly after she’d started school in Boston. At least in the house that Hanna’s parents owned, she didn’t have to impose on anyone and she had her own space. Except for the apartment upstairs that was rented by Michael, one of the area’s dentists.

The soles of her feet throbbed in her cowboy boots. She winced as she pulled her boots off and dropped them to the floor.

Creak…

The slow, gentle shift of the hardwood floors straightened her spine. She sucked her breath in through her nose and closed her hand around her keys.

Someone was in the house.

She swallowed. Her feet rooted to the spot and ice filled her veins.

No. She was being paranoid. It was an old house full of creaks and groans. The sound very well could have come from upstairs where Michael lived.

But it had sounded like her floors…

She straightened her shoulders and strained her ears. Not another noise sounded. She locked the front door and turned toward the kitchen. She’d grab a glass of water, get into bed, and go straight to sleep.

Moonlight streamed in through the kitchen window, shining through the sheer, white curtains. She groped for the light switch and the bright fluorescents lit the kitchen. She reached for the cupboard, snagged a glass and—

The lights went out. Her pulse raged against her throat. She wheeled around, the glass wielded in front of her like a weapon. The soft rattling of metal sounded at the back door in the mudroom. It was a double dead bolt that always stuck and took a lot of maneuvering.

It could be him…

She couldn’t let him get away. Her purse lay at the front door, her phone tucked inside it. Her gaze traced the counter, but darkness concealed the object she sought. She fumbled along the laminate surface until her fingers grazed the smooth knife block. She set the glass down and pulled the butcher’s knife out. Its hard, silver sheen caught the moonlight as she moved swiftly for the mudroom.

A tall, black-clothed form blocked out the light from the back door. She tightened her grip on the handle of the knife and poised it in the air, ready to stab if he moved.

“Stop! Raise your hands or I’ll—”

He turned and charged, his shoulder jabbed into her stomach, and she stumbled to the floor, the knife dropped from her fingers. A black hood fell low over his forehead, shielding his eyes. He crouched down and lifted the blade.

No!

He was going to stab her. She scrambled on her knees and stood on wobbling legs, waiting for the sharp penetration of the knife. She raced through the house. Her feet pounded the old wooden floors. Light from the streetlamp outside shone through the window of the front door, guiding her way. She clawed at the lock, panic made her movements clumsy. Heat blazed up her spine. He would be right behind her.

She turned the lock and flung the door open. She bounded down the stairs and into the street. A scream tore from her throat.

“Help!”

Headlights coated her body, blinding her. Tires screeched across the pavement and the large face of a truck filled her vision.

It stopped inches from her. Her chest rose and fell, heat scorched off the hood of the truck, branding her cold skin. Paralysis settled into her bones and her lungs ached for air. Hands closed around her upper arms, shaking her.

“Riley! What happened?”

She looked up to find wild, familiar blue eyes looking at her, but they didn’t register. She shook her head, grasping at his arms. “H–He’s in my house,” she wheezed. He kept his hold on her and craned his neck toward her large Carolina porch. Her eyes searched his face and recognition set in.

“Ethan?”

“Get in my truck and lock the doors. I’ll be right back.” He ushered her to the open driver’s door and she climbed in.

She grabbed his bicep, and her hand didn’t even come close to circling it. “He has a knife.” The words tumbled from her lips, breathless and strained.

“He’s going to need it.” Ethan shut the door and strode purposefully for the house. As he reached the sidewalk, his hand pulled something from the small of his back…its black metallic sheen stalled her breath: a gun. Her eyes didn’t leave him until he disappeared inside the dark house. Her body trembled in violent shakes and she pressed her hands to her temples.

Someone had been in her house…

Why?

Cool air blasted from the vents, chilling her skin even more. She took one deep, shuddering breath, and then another. She had to call the police but there was no way in hell she was going in to get her phone. She wrung her hands on her lap and scanned the darkness through the windshield.

The driver’s side door opened and a screech bubbled from her throat.

“It’s okay, it’s me.” Ethan’s large hand clasped her shoulder. “Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

She licked her lips and her eyes swept behind him.

“He’s gone,” he said softly.

She loosened the hold on her fingers and her extremities tingled as blood flow returned. She swallowed. “I heard something when I came in but didn’t think much of it. I went to the kitchen for a glass of water and the lights went out.” Her voice trembled, and she took a breath to steady it. “I grabbed a knife and went to the back door where I heard him trying to get out. I confronted him and he knocked me to the ground. I got up and ran and—”

“Okay, okay.” His soft tone silenced her and he reached in and pulled her out of the vehicle. “You’re shaking,” he said. His hands rubbed up and down her arms, heat ebbed from his body, making her ache to lean into it. She kept her back straight, resisting.

“I should call the police,” she mumbled.

“I already did.”

God, he was quick. His hands moved down her spine efficiently.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt? That was a stupid thing to do. You should have gotten out, not grabbed a fucking knife,” he growled.

She stiffened against him and tipped her head back to scowl at him.

“And waiting for him to attack is better?”

The hard line of his mouth tensed. “You could have been killed.”

Irritation rippled through her, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with him again. And, despite herself, she was grateful he was here.

She pinched her brows together. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.”

His gaze shifted away and then landed back on her. “I see that.” His mouth hitched up at the corner and her stomach muscles tightened. Under normal circumstances, that smile would have wobbled her knees. But not now. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. She should still be pissed at him. But he’d helped her, and for that she was grateful.

Sirens split the air and a few minutes later two police cruisers pulled up to the curb. The rest of the night was a whirlwind. She’d insisted Ethan leave, but he’d hovered near his truck after first speaking with Detective Drummond. She’d known Joe Drummond growing up, and saw him often at the diner. She gave her statement on the porch while the police searched her house for signs of entry and fingerprints.

“I think we have all we need, Riley. Do you have somewhere you can stay for the night?” Joe’s warm brown eyes fixed on her as he tucked his notepad away. She almost shook her head, but knowing Joe and the tight-knit community, he’d find someone to take her in.

She nodded. “I’ll—”

Ethan strode up, his hands buried deep in his pockets. “You need a ride somewhere? It’s getting late.”

Joe cleared his throat and nodded at her before making his way back to his squad car.

She forced a tense smile and got to her feet. “Thanks, I’m fine.”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose, crinkling his tanned forehead in the porch light. “You’re not staying here are you?”

Not a chance in hell.

“No, I have somewhere to go.” He didn’t need to know that place was a hotel. But there was no way she’d wake her friend Jenny up at this hour. It might be a while before she’d have the nerve to come back, and definitely not until the locks were changed.

“Let me give you a ride.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Look, I appreciate all you’ve done but please, I just want to be alone. You’ve done enough.” Her tone held more edge than she’d intended. His eyes grew small and he nodded slowly.

“Fine. You seem to have it together.”

“I do.” And later, she’d fall apart. But not now. Relief expanded in her chest when he climbed in his truck and pulled in to the driveway next door. She closed her eyes against the hammering against her temples and turned toward the door to gather her things. In her bedroom, she pulled the tiny ziplock bag from her back pocket. A handful of small pills stared back at her before she tucked them in her bag.

She’d been close tonight. Had Ethan not have intercepted her leaving with Ryan, she might have been able to complete her plan. It was risky, there was no doubt about that. But every other avenue was futile—the police next to useless.

Riley had been staying here for weeks, but finding the journal yesterday had been a complete stroke of luck. She’d grabbed an extra blanket from the top shelf in Hanna’s bedroom closet and Hanna’s journal had fallen out and landed on her toes. She’d dropped to the floor and had stayed there, combing over the neat penmanship.

The words from one entry she read rang through her mind:

He was attractive in the tall, dark, and lean way that I gravitate to, but he was too ballsy. We talked for a while until he made me feel like a piece of meat and continued to feed me shots. I made up an excuse, got into a cab and came home. I hope he’s not there next time I go out.

After reading that, Riley had had no choice but to go out tonight. She’d gone to the same bar, and sure enough, Ryan had fit the description and actions of the man who’d come on strong to Hanna. It was a small town, there couldn’t be that many creeps who frequented the bar. She shoved fresh clothes into her bag, stopped to gather her things from the bathroom, and then quickly got out of the house.

Ryan had been ready to take her home, and she had been ready to catch him. All she’d had to do was go to his house, let him pour them drinks, and slip two of the pills in his glass. It wouldn’t have taken long for them to take effect, and in that time she would bring up Hanna. This was the trickiest part about her plan. She couldn’t come across as accusing, or he’d be suspicious. Instead, she’d break down into tears about her missing friend, show him Hanna’s picture, and with the help of the drugs, he’d hopefully slip up enough to make him a viable suspect. Then he would pass out and she’d call the cops and let them do their part.

Her plan was unconventional, challenging, and possibly suicidal. But it was all she had. The harsh reality was that Hanna could be dead…but there was still the possibility that she wasn’t. One thing was certain, the longer she was missing, the less likely it was she’d be found alive.

* * * *

Her hands shook as she lifted the warm, steaming plate from the counter. Her old boss’s words rang in her ear from this morning.

I urge you to rethink this decision. You may need to accept that she won’t be found.

She swallowed and sucked back the wall of tears that had built behind her lashes. Leslie was a kind and thoughtful boss. For three years, the Leslie Thom Art Gallery had been her second home. In February, she had been promoted to a senior fine arts consultant. She missed her job, and she hated having to officially resign. Abandoning her career had left an ache in her heart. What choice did she have? She couldn’t return to Boston. She couldn’t leave Beaufort without finding Hanna. How could she possibly pick up where she’d left off? It was simple, that part of her life was dead…at least for now.

Hanna’s disappearance last month had torn her world to shreds. Forgetting about her old life would serve her better. Finding Hanna was her sole purpose. She couldn’t think about her past now. Everyone in town crowded the inside of the restaurant.

She forced a smile and slid the pile of pancakes beneath the eagerly waiting child’s nose, and filled the grandparents’ coffee.

Jenny passed her in the aisle, her hand outstretched with the diner’s cordless phone.

“It’s Jean,” she said. Riley’s stomach bunched into knots. If Hanna’s mom was calling her at work, it couldn’t be anything good. Unless she was calling to check up on her. Jean and her husband Theo had been devastated by the break-in the other night. She accepted the device and pressed it to her ear.

“Jean, is everything okay?”

“Hi, dear.” Her warm, calm voice made Riley relax her shoulders. “I’m so sorry to bother you at work, but I seem to have misplaced your cell number. We’d love to have you for a visit when you’re free.” The last word came out on a slow tremor and Jean cleared her throat.

The knot in her stomach expanded, making it hard to breathe. She nodded slowly and guilt swarmed through her. She’d made a few visits to see Hanna’s parents, but she’d been so consumed by her search for Hanna that she hadn’t visited in more than a week.

“Of course.” Her schedule ran through her brain. It was Wednesday and she was scheduled to work all weekend, but Tuesday she’d be done by six. “I can come by Tuesday evening if that works for you.”

“Absolutely, dear. Be sure to stay for supper.”

Riley accepted and disconnected the call. Jenny’s eyebrows bounced at her. “You okay?”

Riley brushed a thick strand of hair away from her cheek with the back of her wrist. “I’m fine. Jean just wants me to visit. I feel bad that I haven’t been in a while.”

Jenny closed her hand around Riley’s bicep and gently squeezed. “I’m sure they understand. And it’s probably hard on them to visit you at Hanna’s place. I can’t imagine how they must feel seeing all of Hanna’s things.”

Riley’s lips threatened to tremble but she clamped them into a firm line. It was a struggle every day, seeing Hanna’s clothes hanging in the closet, her shoes at the door…even her favorite air freshener still hung in the air.

Jenny propped her hand on her hip. “I’m sure the police have already done a thorough look through her things, but I wonder if Hanna left any clues…maybe an email or threat from a stalker?” Jenny kept her voice low and the patrons paid them no mind, but still, the air in Riley’s lungs lay trapped. She hadn’t told anyone about the journal.

Riley sucked in a breath and dropped her voice. “I found her journal the other day. I still have so much left of it to read, but I’m hoping something will jump out at me.” She hadn’t wanted to take the journal out of the house, somehow it felt wrong and invasive doing so. She’d gotten to read several entries already, but there was still a lot left to dissect.

“If anyone will find something useful, it’ll be you.” Jenny winked at her. “I need to drop Lucas off at his soccer game. I’ll be back in a half hour or so. Will you be okay?” Her blue eyes filled with concern for the hundredth time today. It was Riley’s first shift since the break-in, and even though she’d been staying with Jenny for the last three nights, she still hovered over Riley like a concerned mother hen. Riley forced a smile, but the corners of her mouth wanted to crack. She took a quick survey of the room. Tables were beginning to clear and so far, everyone still sitting had received their food.

“No problem, I’m fine.”

The bell sounded above the entrance door. Jenny cocked her head around Riley’s shoulder. “Morning, Ethan,” Jenny called as she made her way to the front. Riley’s thundering blood drowned out their friendly exchange. She gulped. Ethan strode down the aisle, a snug light blue T-shirt outlined the muscles in his shoulders and biceps. Lightweight gray shorts tapered his waist.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. He was easily a foot taller than she, even from the short distance between them she was dwarfed by him. Ethan pulled his dark aviator shades off and tucked them in the neck of his shirt. He didn’t smile at her like he normally did. His lips stayed tense, his jaw hard as he sat at the front counter. Her lungs tightened in her chest.

She sucked her breath in as she rounded the long counter. Ethan’s elbows rested on the countertop, waiting. She picked up a clean mug, filled it, and slid it under his nose.

“Thank you.” His eyes moved over her before landing on her face. “How are you?” His gaze focused on hers, staring through her soul, and reading her mind like an open book.

She dug her fingers into the stainless steel carafe. Her eyes scanned around the restaurant, hoping someone would request her assistance. No one did. She met his gaze. “I’m great, thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Look, I don’t have time to chat, Jenny had to run out. Do you need anything else?” She kept her voice low.

Ethan’s blue eyes flickered. Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were too sharp, too knowing. When Ethan came around, she wasn’t herself. Something about him set her off. It was that look of his, that calculative, scrutinizing way about him that made her nerves sizzle. He was a distraction…one she couldn’t afford. Even if he had been her saving grace the other night. More than anything, that was reason enough for her to stay away.

Slowly, he nodded. His face was freshly shaven, yet the dark hair showed beneath his skin. It matched the thick brown hair on his head. He picked up the small carafe of creamer and fixed his coffee. “I’ll tell you what. You give me five minutes of your time and I won’t come here anymore on the days you’re working.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. Well darn it. She hadn’t meant for him to need to avoid the diner to please her. But she couldn’t think when he was around. A little less Ethan might do her some good. And Hanna…

“Do we have a deal?”

Curiosity piqued her interest. As much as she disliked his confident demeanor that bordered on cockiness, something pulled her to him. “And if I say no?”

He smiled then. The slow, lazy smirk made her stomach twist. “I think you want to say yes.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re not very good at reading people, are you?”

“Actually, I’m an expert.”

Her eyebrows rose. He leaned closer, and his warm, heady aftershave surrounded her. “Please?” His tone was soft and low, the gentle timber of his voice met her on a vibrational level.

She exhaled sharply. “Fine. Five minutes. Meet me outside in an hour. That’s when I’ll be on break.”

His eyes sparkled with satisfaction. She started away and then stopped. “Is that all you need?”

He sipped his coffee. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you in an hour.” He winked and flashed a half-smile, giving her a glimpse of his bright, white teeth. She combed a few loose strands that had fallen from her ponytail. What the hell did he want to talk to her about? They’d hashed everything out the other night. She’d bitten his head off after the bar and maybe, just maybe, she’d been a little hasty.

But he’d been pushy and egotistical. Thankfully, the lunch rush started a few minutes later and she didn’t have time to worry about Ethan. By the time she got the chance to look up, he was gone.

Jenny hustled in as Riley cleared some dishes from the table nearest the door. “Sorry,” she mouthed as she slipped past her to get her apron from the back. They carried meals out quickly and before long the lunch rush died down. Riley met Jenny in the back room and glanced at the clock over Josh, the cook’s, head. What were the chances Ethan had given up and gone home? “Ethan was outside when I came in. Did he stay long?”

Shit. Riley grimaced. “No, just came in for coffee. I’m going to take my break now.” She pulled her apron over her head and hung it on the hook, then snagged her purse. Jenny was right behind her.

“Wait a minute. Is he waiting for you?”

Riley tightened her hold on her purse. She’d avoided going into great detail about her encounter with Ethan the other night. As much as she loved Jenny, she was observant and would press her. If Jenny found out what she was up to, she’d never hear the end of it. She turned to face her. “It’s a long story, okay?”

She gasped. “Oh my god.” Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh my god,” she hissed again, more dramatically. “You lucky little brat I knew you two had a thing for each other.” Then, in a whisper, “Did something happen after he was at your house the other night?”

Riley dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling. She brought her eyes back down to her friend. “No. He just wants to see me for a minute. He probably wants to talk about the break-in. I’ll tell you more after work.”

She turned on her heel and made her way through the restaurant. She pushed open the door and walked into the wall of heat. She plucked her black T-shirt away from her chest. Sweat had already collected beneath the material from the busy lunch hour, but now with the scorching sun on her it stuck to her like glue. Ethan waited, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes on the dirt beneath his feet. He looked cool and comfortable despite the raging temperatures. Why couldn’t he look like a bag of shit? That would make this so much easier.

Her fingers curled into the strap of her purse. She stopped in front of him. “Can we make this quick? It’s disgustingly hot out here.”

“Why don’t we chat in my truck? I have the AC running and it’s nice and cool.” He gestured to the truck idling in the parking lot. Her body temperature rose a degree from his presence. He led her to his vehicle, and then opened the passenger door.

She planted her hand on her hip. “Don’t try to impress me. It won’t work.”

He slapped his hand to his chest. “Ouch. You have a sharp tongue, do you know that?”

“What can I say? You inspire me.” Her tone was dry as she stepped in front of him and hefted herself into the seat. He chuckled, shut the door, and then climbed in the driver’s side. Heat crept from her belly to her cheeks. Her hand on her thigh trembled. He was staring at her. Slowly, she met his gaze. Her breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. “What is it you want to talk about?”

His hand fell to the console between them as he shifted to face her. His fingers lay only inches from her arm. Her skin tingled as if he’d touched her. “I want to apologize for the other night.” His tone was even and as warm as the air outside of the truck.

She raised her eyebrows. He’d brought her out here just to say sorry? She lifted her shoulder. “Fine. Apology accepted.” Her fingers closed on the door handle, but before she could open the door and hop out, he grabbed her wrist. His fingers were hot and firm. A tingle shot down to her toes.

“Wait.” He didn’t let go until she turned to face him. “I’ve been pretty concerned about you the last few days. Where are you staying?”

She didn’t owe him a thing, but something in his face made her answer. “I’ve been staying with Jenny, tonight will be my first night back. The landlord had the locks changed yesterday.”

He nodded. “Because there was no sign of a break-in? Someone had a key.”

She held her hand in the air. “I really don’t want to talk about it, okay? He could have picked the lock you know.”

His lips dipped at the corner. “Could have.”

She inched closer to the door. “Is that all?”

“No,” he said softly.

She blew out an exasperated breath. “What now?”

“Don’t you have anything you want to say to me?”

The words take a hike burned on her tongue. Some of the intensity had left his eyes, and his face had softened. She couldn’t outright insult him, at least not after he’d apologized.

“You want me to say sorry?”

Humor sparked a glow in his eyes. The skin around them crinkled with the hint of a smile. “You were pretty snarky.”

She sucked the inside of her cheek between her teeth. “I don’t get what you’re trying to do, Ethan.” Her tongue slid over the letters of his name.

“I’m trying to do what I’ve been doing all along–be nice to you. Wouldn’t it be great if I could come in and ask how your day was? You could smile without hurting your face and respond with something other than a sneer?”

A smile tugged at her lips—the first one in a month. Although she didn’t give in to the grin that nagged her, he beamed as if she had. He had a nice smile. Her nerve endings vibrated under the heat of his gaze.

“Look at that, you almost smiled.” The tip of his finger tapped the corner of her mouth. She clenched her jaw to fight the urge, but lost. “See? We can be friends.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and squinted skeptically at him. “I thought you said if I came out here, you wouldn’t come into the restaurant anymore while I was working?”

“I might have told a small white lie.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together. “Besides, I never got that apology.”

Her shoulders sagged as if the weight she’d been carrying had been lifted a few pounds. “All right, I’m sorry for snapping at you. You seem like a decent guy, but to be honest, I don’t need any friends.”

His eyes darkened a shade and his fingers fell from her arm. Regret burned a hole in her stomach. She was pushing him away…but she had to. If only things could be different. If only she could have met him before all this. But right now she couldn’t explore the interest in him that burned inside her.

“I appreciate that.”

“Can I go now?”

“Yes.” His lips thinned. “But I have one more question.”

She rolled her eyes to stare at the ceiling of his truck, then brought them back to his face. “Of course you do.”

“That woman at the bar, who was she? From what I can tell, she couldn’t be more different than the Riley sitting in front of me.”

Her stomach pitched. It hadn’t been an insult, and the gentle way he spoke oozed concern. “Good-bye, Ethan.” This time he didn’t stop her when she slid out of the truck. She wasn’t sure if she was happy about that or not.

“That was quick.” Jenny’s eyebrows bobbed when Riley strode back inside.

“Not much to talk about.” She sailed passed Jenny and into the back room. She made a quick sandwich in the kitchen, sat, and nibbled while she pulled her phone from her purse.

A missed call and new voicemail flashed across her screen. She’d forgotten it was on silent since she’d gone to bed last night, so she hadn’t heard it ring when she was in the truck with Ethan. Her stomach plummeted and turkey salad threatened to catapult up from her stomach. She placed the sandwich on the plate in front of her and sucked in a deep breath.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

But that didn’t mean it was him. She pressed the voicemail icon and entered her password.

One new message.

She tightened her grip on the phone and curled her other hand around the edge of the small table. She hit the number one to listen to the new recording. The line crackled in her ear.

A scream split through her eardrum and died.

Riley bolted to her feet, terror slammed against her palate. Hanna. Her hand trembled and vomit climbed up the back of her throat.

Her fingers shook as she pressed Save and then dialed Joe’s number. Her lungs cried out for her to take a breath, but for the life of her, she couldn’t summon the strength. Joe answered on the second ring and words came tumbling out in a desperate plea.

“Joe, it’s Riley. He left me a voice mail—he has Hanna.” Her voice teetered on the verge of hysteria.

“Calm down, Riley. Where are you?”

She swallowed and held her palm to her pulsating temple. “At work.”

“Sit tight. I’ll be right over.”

She disconnected and set her phone down on the table in front of her. Her breastbone vibrated with every sharp beat of her heart. She pressed her elbows to the counter and rested her forehead on her closed fists. She had to get a grip or she’d be no use to the police.

This was the first major clue that Hanna was alive. The bastard was tormenting her. He wanted her to search for Hanna. But she didn’t need his threatening calls and antics. She needed him to attempt to take her—that was the only way she’d find Hanna.

He’d slip up. He had to.