Читать книгу Imminent Affair - Sheri WhiteFeather - Страница 8

Allie Whirlwind couldn’t breathe. The air in her lungs wouldn’t expel. She felt as if someone were sitting on her chest, forcing her to relive a nightmare.

Only this nightmare didn’t involve her serial killer mother or her psychic sister or the ghost of her father. It didn’t involve Raven, either. Her former shape-shifter lover had moved on to the underworld, to an Apache place that rivaled heaven.

And now Allie was in hell.

While she’d been at work, someone had come into her loft and trashed her bedroom. Just moments ago, she’d opened the door and encountered the gruesome sight.

Her sheets had been slashed. The canopy above her bed had been knifed. On the wall nearest the window, red paint dripped like blood, with a message in the center that said This is for Daniel.

Still struggling to breathe, she stared at the elegantly scripted letters. The vandal had used a lovely form of calligraphy. Daniel’s name was especially pretty.

This is for Daniel.

What was? The mock blood? The knifed anger? The whole chilling scene?

Was Daniel in danger? Panicked, she reached for the phone and dialed his cell.

He answered on the second ring, apparently recognizing her number from caller ID. “Hey, Allie.”

The air in her lungs finally whooshed out. He was the man she loved, but she didn’t have the courage to tell him. As far as he knew, she simply regarded him as a friend. But that was all he considered her, too. He didn’t remember that deeper feelings had developed between them. Daniel Deer Runner had retrograde amnesia.

“Allie?” he addressed her again, filling the silence.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m on a break at work.” He paused for a second. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

She bit back a rush of tears. “Someone slashed up my bedroom and used red paint that looks like blood. They left a message that said they did it for you.”

His voice went anxiety-ridden gruff. “Someone? Someone who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes.” She’d done that right away.

“Good. Stay put, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Oh, thank God, she thought. He was coming over. They hung up, and she waited in the living room, with Christmas decorations twinkling in every corner. This was Allie’s favorite time of year.

Clinging to her holiday spirit, she lit some cookie-scented candles, hoping that Daniel would get there before the LAPD.

No such luck.

The police arrived in record time. Most local cops knew her, or at least knew of her. She was even friends with some of the Special Sections homicide detectives. But these detectives were unfamiliar, and that did little to steady her nerves. Being the daughter of a serial killer made Allie and her sister uncomfortably famous. Not only was their mother a murderer, she was a black magic witch, and in their culture, witchcraft was evil. The question, “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” didn’t apply. But at least Mom was in prison now, paying her debt to society on death row.

A detective named Bell interviewed Allie. He was tall and blond and purposely expressionless. They went into her bedroom and stood amid the mess.

“Who’s Daniel?” he asked, scribbling on a notepad and glancing up at the message on the wall. His partner did other investigative-type things, like interviewing neighbors, taking photographs of the vandalism, checking for signs of forced entry and dusting for prints.

“He’s a friend,” she responded, wishing that Daniel didn’t make her ache. Allie had always dreamed of falling in love, but not with a man whose lack of memory robbed her of a future with him. “He’s on his way. He should be here soon.”

Bell merely nodded. “Does anyone else live here?”

“Not anymore. My sister used to, but she just got married. She’s in Europe on her honeymoon. Her husband is a special agent. You know. FBI.”

No visible reaction, aside from another nod.

Allie fidgeted with the silver beads around her neck. She favored Native jewelry and wore it often. She was a full-blood from the Oglala Lakota Sioux and Chiricahua Apache Nations.

“He saved my life,” she heard herself say. Her mind was moving in what seemed like a zillion different directions. She hadn’t meant to offer unsolicited information.

“The special agent?”

She shook her head. “Daniel.”

That got Bell’s attention. He exhibited a genuinely interested expression. “How?”

“He stepped in front of a loaded gun that was aimed at me.” Just in case the officer presumed that the message on the wall was related to the shooting, she explained that the shooter, an admirer of her mother’s, was in prison now and was no longer a threat.

“How badly was Daniel hit?”

“Bad enough to need surgery, to slip into a coma and lose most of his memory.”

“Which means what? That he won’t be able to provide answers as to who might’ve done this and why?”

“Probably not. But he’ll do his damnedest to try.” Daniel Deer Runner belonged to a Warrior Society, a group of former military men who excelled at close quarter combat and fought for Native causes. He wouldn’t let something like this go. He wouldn’t let someone torment Allie in his name.

Anxious to see him, she fidgeted with her jewelry again. Daniel consumed her mind far more often than he should.

He arrived a few minutes later, cradling Samantha. Sam was Allie’s cat, a fussy black stray that shunned almost everyone except Allie. Sam adored Daniel, but he’d worked on wooing her.

“I found her outside,” he said. “She was hiding under the stoop. The vandal must have scared her.”

He handed Allie the cat, and when she took Samantha, their hands connected. Touching him was almost more than she could bear. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to take comfort in his strength.

Daniel stood tall and broad, with medium-length, slightly messy black hair and killer cheekbones. He used to iron his jeans, slick back his hair and sport horn-rimmed glasses. But he’d changed since the coma. He’d ditched his ironing board, traded his glasses for contact lenses and tossed out the Brylcreem.

Today he wore dark blue scrubs. He was a veterinary technician at the zoo, and although he struggled to recall people from his past, he clearly remembered how to do his job.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you,” he said. “That someone…” He frowned at his name on the wall.

Allie couldn’t seem to find her voice. Detective Bell stood back, watching her and Daniel. Did the cop suspect how she felt about her “friend?” Did the person who’d vandalized Allie’s room suspect it, too? Was that a key point? Was the vandal another woman who had designs on Daniel?

He reached out and skimmed the side of her arm, and the long, gentle stroke from his fingers gave her soft, sexy chills.

“You’re so quiet,” he said.

She tightened her hold on the squirming cat. Apparently Sam wanted to bolt, to hide under the stoop again. Or maybe she wanted to climb back into Daniel’s protective arms. Allie certainly understood that.

Since he was waiting for a response, she said, “I should be used to creepy things by now. But coming home to this was shocking.” Mostly because it was related to him. The creepiness from the past had involved her mother.

Daniel frowned at the wall again, and Detective Bell led him away from Allie to interview him. She remained off to the side, noticing that Bell was more cordial with Daniel than he had been with her.

The boy’s club, she thought. It made her feel like a third wheel. But she supposed that sweetening the loft with cookie-scented candles made her seem like a girly-girl, which she was, most of the time. Sometimes she even got lost in her own dreams. Allie was a fantasy artist who painted sensual mermaids, fire-breathing dragons and castles in the sky. For her day job, she gave art lessons at a bustling senior citizen community center.

Not that Allie wasn’t trained in self defense or couldn’t hold her own. Of course the last time she was in danger, Daniel had taken a bullet for her. She hadn’t done a very good job of protecting herself.

Bell ended the interview, and Daniel returned to her.

“I want you to come home with me,” he said. “To stay at my house until this is over.”

She looked into his eyes and noticed that the light caught a corner of his contact lenses. Two months had passed since he’d lost his memory, since Daniel had morphed into a harder-edged man, and she was still getting used to the alpha he’d become. Although he’d always been tall and muscular with striking features, he’d also been a bit of a nerd, even to the Warrior Society. Years ago, they’d nicknamed him “Fearless” derived from Fearless Fly, a goofy vintage cartoon character that obtained superpowers from his glasses.

Sometimes Allie missed Daniel’s glasses. Sometimes she missed who he used to be. But the new Daniel was wildly compelling, and she couldn’t help but love him, too. He was Fearless either way. The nickname still fit.

A scowl bracketed his mouth. “Why aren’t you talking to me, Allie?”

Oh, damn. She’d done it again. She’d kept quiet. “I’m not sure about going home with you.”

The scowl deepened. “Why not?”

Because sleeping under the same roof would only make her want him that much more. She fabricated an excuse. “My studio is here.”

“I have a couple of extra rooms. You can use one of them as a studio.”

She put Sam on the ground. The cat was meowing for her freedom. “I know, but—”

“But nothing. I’m not leaving you here alone. Detective Bell thinks this could turn into a stalking, and I agree. We think the vandal is a deranged woman from my past who considers your friendship with me a threat.”

Allie had already mulled over that possibility. The calligraphy seemed deliberately feminine, as if the vandal was identifying herself as a woman, especially from the pretty way she’d written Daniel’s name. “How did she get into my loft?”

“The front door lock was picked. But that isn’t a complicated lock. A credit card would have done the trick.”

“Maybe the police will come up with some fingerprints.”

“Maybe, but it’s doubtful. More than likely, she was wearing gloves.”

“How many deranged women from your past do you think are out there?”

He tunneled his hands through his already messy hair. “How the hell would I know? I’m going to ask Rex Sixkiller to investigate my life, the things I can’t remember.”

“Is Rex from the Warrior Society?”

“Yes, but he’s a licensed P.I., too.”

She could only imagine how invasive for Daniel that was going to be. “What about Glynis?”

He squinted. “Who?”

“Glynis Mitchell. She’s a former lover of yours, and a bit of an enemy of mine. She’s never done anything threatening, but she disliked me from the start.”

Daniel cocked his head. “Because of me?”

“Because of my mother. A lot of people dislike me for being related to Yvonne Whirlwind.” A connection that made Allie sick, too. “Still, I should probably tell Bell about Glynis.”

“Yes, you definitely should.” He angled his head again. “Why didn’t you ever mention her to me before?”

Allie shrugged, trying to seem more unaffected than she was. She didn’t like thinking about Daniel with other women. “Glynis didn’t seem to matter until now.”

“After you talk to Bell, you need to pack your bags,” he said, reminding her that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She was going home with him, whether she wanted to or not.

While Allie settled into a guest room at his house, Daniel waited for her to join him in the kitchen for dinner. He wasn’t much of a cook, and since Allie was a vegetarian, he tossed a simple green salad and proceeded to grill a couple of cheese sandwiches. He put on a pot of herbal tea, too. Allie liked hot tea.

Samantha purred at his feet and he reached down to pet her, but the cat wouldn’t be staying for very long. Tomorrow, she would be going to a boarding facility. Allie was worried that Sam might become the target of the vandal’s next threat, and Daniel agreed that it was a valid concern.

He petted Sam again, thinking how pretty she was, much like her mistress. Allie was a bit of cat herself. Long, lean and feline.

Damn, Daniel thought. Damn.

Allie stirred a blood-burning hunger he was desperately trying to suppress. Being friends with a woman that you wanted to strip naked wasn’t a good thing.

To make matters worse, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten laid, and he meant that literally. He’d been celibate since the post-surgical coma that had wiped out most of his memory.

She entered the kitchen, and his pulse quickened. She looked so soft, so beautiful, so vulnerable, he battled his emotions. Beyond the attraction was an overwhelming desire to keep her safe.

The scene at her loft had knotted his gut. If it went further, if someone tried to harm her…

“I think it’s done,” she said.

He gave her a blank stare. Or maybe it wasn’t so blank. At the moment, he’d become fixated on her waist-length hair, on the way it framed her face and wrapped her in flowing lines. “I’m sorry. What?”

“That sandwich. You’re killing it.”

He glanced down at the pan. He was squishing the grilled bread with a spatula, making cheese leak out the sides. He scooped it up and put it on a plate, then realized how unattractive the presentation was. Trying to pretty it up, he reached for shiny red apple from a basket on the counter and placed it beside the sandwich. He’d already put the salad on the table.

Once both plates were fixed, he and Allie sat down to eat. She didn’t seem to mind his lousy cooking. Either that or she was too hungry to care. The tea seemed to help, too. She sweetened it with honey and sipped generously.

“Tell me more about Glynis,” he said. It was odd to ask one woman about another, but what else could he do? He had no recollection of his former lover. His doctor claimed that portions of his memory might return, but a full recovery was doubtful.

Allie glanced up from her plate. “She owns a string of mortuaries that she inherited from her late husband. She’s always had a ‘thing’ for death.”

Daniel made a tight face. If Glynis was the vandal, she might be capable of anything. Not only that, but why would he have slept with a woman who was intrigued by death? That didn’t bode well for his character.

“In the eighties, she ran a Death Rock club,” Allie said.

“The eighties?” Not only did Glynis sound odd, she was older than he’d expected. “I dated a cougar?”

“That’s one way of putting it, I guess. But I can see why you were attracted to her. She’s quite glamorous. She resembles Bettie Page.”

“The 1950s pinup model?” Daniel got an image of a shapely brunette wearing fetish gear. The Glynis scenario was getting weirder. He wondered what sort of relationship he’d had with her. He couldn’t begin to describe how disturbing it was not knowing intimate details about himself.

He quit eating. The sandwich tasted like crap anyway. “I wasn’t into kinky sex, was I?”

Caught off guard, Allie coughed on a sip of tea, and he realized how inappropriate the question was. He couldn’t backpedal, so he apologized. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t expect you to know something like that.”

Her cheeks turned rosy, making her look young and sweet, even if she was almost thirty.

Daniel discarded his kinky sex concerns. He might be lusting after Allie, but he wasn’t envisioning her in a rubber corset and bondage ties. He would rather see her in a luxurious nightgown, something long and lacy.

He wanted to reach across the table and touch her, but he resumed their conversation, returning to Glynis. “What does her fascination with death entail?”

“When she was younger, she used to pen pal with killers on death row. After she met her husband, she learned to respect death the way he did, not wallow in the morbid side of it. Or that’s what she claimed.”

“Do you know how I got hooked up with her?”

“Her husband supported the Native American Graves and Repatriation Act. He helped the Warrior Society recover stolen remains and funerary objects to their rightful owners.”

“So I knew him?”

“Yes, and after he died, you helped Glynis get through her grief.”

By sleeping with her? Daniel frowned. “That doesn’t make me sound very honorable.”

“You were honorable to me.” Her gaze locked onto his, and a blast of emotion erupted between them. “You saved my life. You…” Her voice broke, making the connection between them even more sensitive.

“I don’t remember the shooting.”

Her voice rattled some more. “I remember for both of us.”

“Remembering for me doesn’t count.” He wanted his own memories.

She didn’t say anything, and when things got too uncomfortable, he cleared the table. She’d eaten all of her food, lousy as it was.

He turned to look at her. “I think you should take some time off. Maybe call in sick, then arrange for a vacation or whatever.” He would be taking time away from his job, as well. “Tomorrow we can meet with Rex and get started on the investigation. We can pay Glynis a visit, too.”

“She won’t like us dropping by.”

“Too bad for her.” He wasn’t leaving any stone unturned, regardless of where it led or what it revealed about his past.

He was going to protect Allie. Every shaky step of the way.