Читать книгу Her Hero And Protector - Shawna Delacorte - Страница 7

Chapter Three

Anxiety filled Brandi’s voice, and a hint of panic crept into her words. “I can’t go home. Whoever it is knows where I live. He might be watching my house at this very minute.”

Reece tried to alleviate her sudden surge of panic. “That’s what I thought, too. So, we’re left with two options. I can drive you to a motel or…uh…” A rush of discomfort told him how awkward he found the situation. “You can spend the night here.”

He saw the alarm flash through her eyes and across her face. He rushed his words, afraid she had misinterpreted what he’d said. “This sofa folds out into a bed. I can sleep here and you can have the bedroom.”

Brandi stared at him for a moment. She knew she couldn’t go home but hadn’t really solidified any thoughts about exactly what to do or where to go. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions again, assume the worst, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea either. “I don’t want to impose on you like that. I’ve already abused your hospitality.”

With his free hand he gestured toward her dirty clothes. “You’d probably like something clean to put on and a hot shower, too.”

A shy smile slowly formed on her lips. “Yes, that would be nice. But I don’t know where I’m going to get any clean clothes tonight.”

His words were tentative, escaping into the open before he was sure he wanted to say them. “I could go to your house and bring back what you need.”

A quick look of concern flitted across her face. “But if someone is watching my house, they’d see you go inside. You’d be in danger.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don’t you worry about that. I can spot surveillance a mile away, especially if the person watching your house thinks they are dealing with someone who is inexperienced in the method of a stakeout. I know how to get in and out of places without being spotted. So—” he flashed a confident smile “—draw a floor plan of your house, give me your keys and a list of what you want and tell me where to find it. I should be back in a little over two hours. It’s normally a one-hour drive to Rocky Shores from here. I should be in and out of your house in less than ten minutes and will come straight back. Of course, it might take a little longer because of the rain on the mountain roads.”

“Why can’t I go with you? I certainly know where everything is. Wouldn’t it be better if I went along?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. If someone is watching your house, I don’t want to take a chance on whoever it is seeing you. If they spot you, it could be a dangerous situation. I can take care of myself, but I’d rather not have to take care of both of us. It will be quicker for me to go alone.”

“Well…I guess that makes sense.” Giving the key to her house to a virtual stranger? It was a decision that left her uneasy, but what did she have to lose at this point? If he truly posed a threat to her, he could have done any number of unpleasant things to her by now.

After all, no one knew where to find her. She was trapped in his cabin—even to the point where he had hauled her back inside when she had tried to run. He had her pinned to the floor and under his complete control.

Yet he had been a man of his word. He had told her he wouldn’t hurt her, and he hadn’t.

Then another thought occurred to her. Having him gone for a while would give her an opportunity to search the cabin and see if she could find anything other than the very sketchy information he had given her—reluctantly given her. Was she merely rationalizing this no-win situation, or was this strategy viable? She wasn’t sure.

He may have soothed her shattered nerves a bit, but she was still acutely aware of the very real danger that had chased her to his cabin in the first place and continued to pursue her. She steeled her determination. She needed to take advantage of every opportunity that came her way, and this was no exception.

“Do you have some paper and a pencil so I can draw that floor plan and make you a list?”

He grabbed a notebook and pen from the top of the desk and handed them to her. She sketched the layout of her house, listed a few basic things for him to bring her and where to find them. She tore out the page and handed it to him along with her keys.

“Here, this should do it.”

He took the paper from her, started to leave, then paused. He turned to face her, his voice soft and conveying his genuine concern. “Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone, no matter who they say they are. I’ll use my key to get in when I return.”

Her words were filled with emotion. “Please…be careful.”

He extended a confident smile, then the smile faded. It was as if he didn’t have any conscious control over his own actions. He brushed his fingertips across her cheek, cupped her chin in his hand and leaned his face into hers. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. His words held the same emotion as hers had. “Don’t worry. I’m always careful.” He allowed his hand to linger for a moment before breaking the enticing physical contact.

Brandi watched as he pulled on a rain jacket and stepped out onto the front porch. He brought the hood over his head, then made a dash for his car. She shut and locked the front door and listened as he started the engine and drove away.

She suddenly felt very much alone. It had only been a few hours since Reece had found her in his cabin. During that time, she had been fearful of the danger he represented, petrified when he’d chased her out into the storm and forcibly brought her back to the cabin, then terrified out of her wits when he’d tackled her and pinned her to the floor. But he had let her up as he’d promised and had done his best to make her comfortable. She had to admit that he had managed to ease her fears and worries and even instill a modicum of confidence. He seemed a man of his word.

She touched her fingers to her lips. The heat of the brief kiss continued to linger there. She didn’t know what to think. Was she being played for a fool? Was this all part of some master plan he had devised? She shook her head. If he was somehow involved, why would he have gone off and left her alone to escape? True, he had her house keys, but not having a key certainly wouldn’t stop someone from entering her house.

She attempted to dismiss the conflicting thoughts and her emotional upheaval by turning her attention to other matters.

The desk against the far wall—there would probably be something in the desk that would tell her more about him. If nothing else, at least something that could confirm his name.

She swallowed down the nervousness churning in the pit of her stomach as she slowly crossed the room to the desk. She reached out a trembling hand, then paused. The same feeling of guilt washed through her as it had when she’d crawled in his kitchen window. What she was doing was wrong. But she also told herself that the present circumstances were anything but normal.

Her confusion ran rampant, leaving her emotions in turmoil. He had been right. She wanted to believe him. To believe that he was an honorable man. To believe that he could and would help her.

To believe that she could trust him.

She pulled open the drawer and withdrew several file folders, placing them on top of the desk. Then she opened a large bottom drawer where she found a laptop computer resting on top of several large envelopes.

REECE DROVE DOWN Brandi’s street, taking careful note of every parked car. He didn’t drive so slowly that he would look suspicious to the neighbors, but slowly enough that he didn’t miss anything. Her sketch indicated a gate from the back alley to her yard and a side door from the yard to the garage. He could enter the house that way without anyone in front seeing him. But first, he wanted to make sure no one was watching from the street.

For an hour he had turned things over in his mind as he drove from his cabin to her house. Had he just been pulled into another bad situation by a beautiful woman who appeared vulnerable and seemed in need of his help? Was he being set up again, only this time with a longer prison sentence waiting on the horizon? But could he afford to pass up an opportunity to even things with Frank James, no matter what the risk? He wasn’t at all sure he was doing the right thing.

Had he ended up frightening Brandi more than instilling a sense of confidence? He touched his fingers to the scratches on the side of his face. Yes, indeed—she had fought to protect herself. Unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of her attack. After that, had he managed to assuage her fears?

Suddenly, a flicker of light caught his attention, snapping his mind away from his thoughts and back to the task at hand. The breath froze in his lungs. His senses went on full alert. A man was sitting in a car parked across the street from Brandi’s house, his cigarette lighter supplying just enough illumination to see the man’s face. There was no doubt in his mind—Detective Sergeant Frank James, recently promoted to the rank of lieutenant.

Years of anger and resentment twisted in his gut, turning his insides into a seething cauldron. It took all his conscious control to continue driving in a straight line at the same speed and not do anything to arouse suspicion. When he arrived at the corner he made a left turn so that he could come back through the alley behind Brandi’s house. As soon as he was out of the lieutenant’s line of sight, he pulled over to the curb and stopped.

His worst nightmare and his foremost obsession all rolled up into one. Frank James—the crooked cop who had lied on the witness stand. The man responsible for sending him to prison. Frank James and his cohort, an enticing and devious little sexpot named Cindy Thatcher. Cindy had played him for a fool from day one, and he had been so dazzled that he hadn’t seen it coming.

Reece had a turbulent ten-year history with Frank. It had started when Frank had arrested a murder suspect, insisting that the man was guilty beyond any doubt—almost as if it had been a personal matter for him. The suspect’s attorney had hired Reece to find evidence to verify his client’s alibi. Reece had been able to do it, and the man had been acquitted. Reece later found out that the man’s arrest had, indeed, been a personal matter on the part of Frank James.

After that, it had seemed that every time Reece had turned around, a case he was involved with ended up having something to do with Frank James. Twice Frank had attempted to get his private investigator’s license revoked on the flimsiest of excuses, and twice he had failed.

What in the world could Brandi be involved in that had put a piece of vindictive scum like Frank James on her trail?

He clenched his jaw in determination and tried to tamp down his bitter resentment. If she had somehow crossed this rogue cop, then it was as much his fight as it was hers. She was ill-equipped to handle a confrontation with Frank on her own. If nothing else, that settled the matter in his mind. Frank James was his prey—and nothing would stand in his way in bringing Frank down.

True, Brandi’s sketchy description of her abductor could fit any number of men, but Frank James was definitely one of them. A little flicker of satisfaction told him things were about to break wide open, that inner voice and instinct he had learned to trust over the years, especially during his time in prison. If only he had trusted that voice earlier, back when it had tried to tell him Cindy Thatcher was bad news.

Suddenly the world had come alive with a promise of a future. He had found a purpose, a way to focus his energy and revitalize his existence. And that purpose was to expose Frank James and bring down his network.

Reece drove down the alley behind Brandi’s house with his headlights turned off. He stopped two houses from her back fence, turned off the engine and sat for a few minutes going over everything in his mind. The reason he had given Brandi for her staying behind had been the truth—as far as it went. But he had another reason for not wanting her to go with him. He wanted to do more than just pick up the things on her list. He also wanted to look around inside her house, to get a better feel for who she was and see if he could find anything that might give him a clue to what was happening and why. But with Frank James sitting out in front, he needed to be careful.

Very careful.

Frank James epitomized obnoxious, unethical, dishonest and arrogant. He represented a slap in the face to all the law enforcement officers who worked hard to keep the public safe while placing their own lives in daily jeopardy. But there was one thing Frank James was not—he was not a fool.

Reece didn’t want to enter Brandi’s house while Frank was still parked in front. He made his way across her backyard and stationed himself in the bushes where he could see Frank’s car.

And then he waited.

Stakeouts weren’t new to him, but it had been a long time since he had experienced the excitement of being on a case. The adrenaline surge told him he was back where he belonged. Even the steady rainfall didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. And he had the added benefit of knowing it was more than just being on a case again. His one burning obsession, clearing his name while bringing down the man responsible for putting him in prison, had just taken on a new life. It had moved into the realm of reality.

Less than half an hour later Frank started his car and pulled away from the curb. Reece waited another fifteen minutes to make sure Frank wasn’t circling the neighborhood in an effort to make it appear that he had gone.

He pulled Brandi’s keys from his pocket and entered the garage from the side door. Once safely out of sight, he shrugged out of his rain jacket and shook off the water. He took off his boots and left them in the garage so he wouldn’t track mud inside her house. He pulled the flashlight from his pocket.

Using her sketch, he slowly made his way through the interior, room by room. Everything in the living room, dining room and kitchen seemed to be normal, or at least what he assumed to be normal. Everything was neat, clean and orderly. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He looked around her bedroom and bathroom. Things there seemed to be in place, too. He collected the items she had on her list, placing them in a small suitcase from her closet.

Then he checked her office, a storage room, her darkroom and what would have been another bedroom that she was using as a studio. In sharp contrast to the rest of her house, it seemed obvious that someone had searched these rooms. While her picture files had not been vandalized, someone had definitely been looking for something specific. He had no way of knowing what they had been searching for or if anything was missing.

What could someone have been looking for? Or more accurately, what could Frank James be looking for? Why would pictures of weddings and portrait sittings be of interest to him? What could they have to do with the nightmare that had invaded her life? Even the photographs for the book she said she was working on, scenic pictures from around the state, didn’t seem to be anything that would pose a threat to anyone.

If Brandi had purposely hidden something in her picture files, then she would know what someone had been after and why she had become a target. But he believed her story. He believed she was very frightened and didn’t know why any of this was happening to her.

Two televisions, a VCR and a DVD player, a computer, camera equipment and darkroom equipment—items easily turned into cash—had not been disturbed. He returned to her bedroom and checked the jewelry box. Unless there was a particular piece of jewelry missing, everything appeared to be undisturbed.

So, the disarray in her office was not the work of a common burglar. Had whoever it was found what he had been looking for? It was a question he couldn’t answer. Would Brandi be able to?

Reece pulled a small digital camera from his pocket and thoroughly documented the condition of her work areas. Maybe the pictures would trigger something for her that could help them figure out what was going on. As an afterthought, he also took pictures of the other rooms in case there was something missing that was not obvious to him. He worked quickly, dimming the flash so it wouldn’t be visible to curious eyes outside.

He glanced at his watch. He had stayed there longer than he had intended to on top of the long wait before he could enter the house. He would be very late getting back to the cabin, and he had no way of contacting her to let her know what was happening.

He made one last survey of her office and darkroom. A strange thought began to form in the back of his mind, something so obscure that it seemed almost ridiculous. But not so ridiculous that he could completely dismiss it. A thought about why someone had rummaged through her picture files.

Before leaving, he grabbed the business appointment book from her desktop, the PDA from the drawer, then turned on her computer and checked her security software to make sure he could access her hard drive from his laptop computer.

He returned to the cabin as quickly as the road conditions allowed. Would she still be there, or would she have taken advantage of his absence and left his cabin? Surely she wouldn’t be so foolish as to wander around in the woods on foot in a rainstorm at night. Or would she? Would his impulsive kiss have frightened her, made her afraid of what might happen if she stayed in his cabin overnight? Was she still wary about him having been physical with her to get her back inside the cabin? She should know that if he were the type of man who would attack her he would already have done it, but that didn’t mean she was thinking with her logic rather than her emotions. He again touched his fingers to the scratches on his cheek.

Stupid…stupid…stupid. Why did I kiss her? Why couldn’t I have left the cabin as I’d planned, without indulging the temptation?

By the time he pulled off the fire road and parked in his carport, over three and a half hours had passed, much longer than he had told her. He was tired, but the excitement of being involved in a case again had kept his adrenaline pumping.

And the chance to get at Frank James had made his spirits soar.

Reece unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cabin was quiet and the room empty. His muscles tensed and an adrenaline surge put his senses on high alert. He called to her, forcing a casualness to his voice that did not exist. “Brandi…it’s me. I’m a little late, but I’m back.”

He maintained his position by the front door as his gaze raked the room, searching for anything that was out of place. He spotted the papers on the dining table—his release papers from prison. A quick jolt of panic hit him. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He called her name again.

“Brandi…”

A moment later she emerged from the bathroom. Her strained voice told him she had forced a calm to her words. “I was starting to worry. I thought you might have had problems because of the rain and the mountain roads…or something.”

He saw the wariness in her eyes and the way she seemed to be using the furniture as a barrier between them. He knew he could not sidestep this one by telling her it was none of her business. He had forcibly carried her back inside the cabin when she’d tried to leave. That sort of made it her business. She had the right to know who he was…within reason. But exactly how much should he tell her? He also knew it would be better if he brought up the subject rather than waiting for her to do it. That way, he could control the direction of the conversation.

He gestured toward the papers on the table. As the old adage said, the best defense was a good offense. He carefully chose his words in an attempt to throw her off balance and keep control.

“I see you’ve been snooping in my desk and going through my personal papers.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his accusation. She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t like what he’d said, but she couldn’t deny it. “Well, uh…no, I…well, I did happen to see—”

He picked up the papers from the table top and glanced through them. “Yes, I can see what you happened to come across in your innocent perusal of my belongings—something that was inside an envelope under my laptop computer in the bottom drawer of my desk. They were practically on public display, just waiting for someone to come along and see them.”

He turned his back on her as he took off his rain jacket and hung it on the coat hook by the door. Then he pulled off his muddy boots. He turned and faced her again.

“And now I suppose you’d like to have an explanation?”

“Well, I was sort of wondering…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say or how to respond to his attack. What in the world had possessed her to leave the papers on the table rather than putting them back where she had found them? Her initial thought had seemed like a good idea at the time. She had intended to use it as a means of forcing him to tell her about himself—an exchange of information for what he had managed to wheedle out of her. She had hoped seeing the papers on the table would throw him off guard, leave him unnerved and a little rattled so she could have the upper hand. But whatever the reason, it now seemed very foolish.

She looked up at him. His face held an impassive expression. His eyes weren’t angry, but they were intense. A new wave of anxiety washed through her body, one that put her on edge. She tried to analyze the situation. Was she in trouble? Had she stepped over some invisible line from safety into danger? Was this the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back? She swallowed in an attempt to lessen the lump in her throat.

Reece fixed her with a steady gaze. “I was released from prison three months ago, after serving the full two-year term of my sentence. I’m not on parole. My arrest and subsequent conviction was a travesty of justice. I did not do what I was convicted of. I was set up and framed.”

She glanced down at the floor. “Of course.” That really wasn’t an explanation. Didn’t everyone in prison claim to be innocent? At least that’s the way it seemed. She regained eye contact with him. “Exactly what were you convicted of doing?”

A snort of disgust escaped his throat. “What was I convicted of? I guess you could say I was convicted of trying to help a lady in distress who had retained my services as a private investigator.”

She swallowed the apprehension trying to work its way up her throat. “What does that mean?”

“It means I was not convicted of a violent crime or anything having to do with drugs, if that’s your concern. You’re not in danger from me.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “All I can do is tell you that what I’m saying is the truth. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you. Now, do you want to dwell on this, or do you want to know what I found at your house?” He picked up the small suitcase he had placed on the floor and held it out toward her. “Other than the items on your list.”

She took a couple of tentative steps forward and accepted the suitcase from him. “Thank you.” Now what? He admitted to having been in prison yet made no attempt to explain what had happened beyond saying he was innocent. And two years wasn’t a very long sentence. She knew that much was true because she had seen the dates on the papers. It wasn’t like having been convicted of murder or armed robbery or some other sort of violent crime.

She clenched her jaw. She was rationalizing again. He had made it very clear that he had no intention of discussing it any further. Should she push him for more information or let it drop? An uneasiness welled inside her. She knew her position was tenuous. As he had said, he was bigger and stronger than her. He had physical control of the situation. So, she had to concentrate on being more clever—at least until she had her concerns about him settled in her mind. But for now there were more immediate matters to consider.

His comment about finding something at her house had grabbed her attention and continued to circulate through her mind. Perhaps that would be a more prudent path to follow for right now. But she had to admit that she couldn’t shake the notion that there was an indefinable quality about him that went deeper than what he had shown on the outside. It said he was an honorable man despite having been in prison.

She knew exactly how vulnerable she was. She had given it a lot of thought while he was gone. Isolated in a mountain cabin with a man she had never seen before. A man who had just been released from prison. A man who could have taken advantage of her if he’d wanted to. And she had not objected when he’d kissed her—only a brief kiss, not much more than a brushing of the lips, but still a kiss. He could certainly have taken that as encouragement. There was no way she could have physically stopped him. But, she hadn’t needed to. His behavior had been above board.

Could she really trust this stranger who had served time in prison? She tried to regain her composure. Did she have any other options at the moment? She would take it one step at a time.

“You said you found something at my house?” She looked at him questioningly. “What did you find?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he took the digital camera from his pocket and removed the card. Next, he took the laptop computer from the desk, plugged it in and turned it on.

Curiosity got the best of her. She edged her way over to the desk to see what he was up to. “What are you doing? Why won’t you answer my question about what you found?”

“I’m about to show you. I took lots of pictures. Give me a few minutes and I’ll have them downloaded into the computer, then you can see them large size on the screen.” As the photographs were transferred from the card to the computer hard drive, he took her appointment book and PDA from his jacket and set them on the desk.

Before he brought the pictures up on the screen, he edged into the conversation he really wanted. “Tell me, do you know someone named Frank James?”