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Authors: Brenda Whiteside

Tags: #Contemporary,Suspense,Scarred Hero/Heroine

The Art of Love and Murder (8 page)

BOOK: The Art of Love and Murder
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He looked directly into her eyes, hoping he could communicate more with his mind than his words. “I’ll call you later.”

She turned, a triumphant sway to her hips. Chance sighed. This wouldn’t be an easy fix.

“Enjoy the rest of your stay.” She stopped next to Lacy. “When are you leaving anyway?” Her tone, however, said
, “Get out of town.”

“I’m not sure anymore.” She flicked a glance at him through long lashes before she turned back to Kitty. “I’m finding Flagstaff quite intriguing.”

The three silently watched her sashay out the door. Chief released a chuckle as Kitty rounded the corner. He shot his friend a deadpan glance.

****

Outside on the sidewalk, Lacy paused. Indignation flushed hot on her neck. Carol couldn’t hold a candle to her rude daughter, Kitty. She hadn’t known Chance long enough to understand his temperament, yet she’d sensed a struggle raging inside at Kitty’s blunt remarks. If she hadn’t seen a hint of that, she’d have marched out of the store with apologies. The woman’s attitude raked across her nerves, revealing a stand and fight mode she never knew she possessed.

“You don’t have to go to dinner with me if you need to...if it will cause you any trouble.” She glanced sideways while they waited for a car to pass by. His face remained neutral. The man held his emotions close, heightening the sense of mystery that intrigued her.

“No trouble at all.” He took her arm, walking her across the street to the Grand View. Once on the opposite sidewalk, he guided her to face him then released her. “Kitty’s a friend. Nothing more.” His expression hadn’t changed except for his eyes, soft and inviting.

She swallowed, his admission sending flutters across her chest. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

He shrugged. “But you two have a connection?”

“How about I explain it over dinner?”

“Now you have me.” He quirked an eyebrow.

Phoebe would have had a comeback for that. “Here’s the car.” She pressed the remote unlock and made a movement to open the door.

He beat her to the handle and picked her sweater from the seat. Independent woman or not, his gesture touched her.

“Thank you.” She took it from his hand and let the khaki bag fall from her shoulder. “I’m tired of lugging this around. I think I’ll lock it in the trunk.”

“Where would you like to eat?” he asked as he lifted the trunk lid.

“Unless we go for Mexican at the Kachina, I’ll have to leave the decision to you. You said you hadn’t been there in a while. We could go there. I wouldn’t mind Mexican food again.”

“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.” His brow wrinkled and his attention drifted from her. “I used to eat there all the time with my wife.” He closed the trunk and faced her.

“Oh, no, that’s fine. I just thought, well, it’s close, but if you have another idea...”

“There’s a new place just across the tracks I haven’t tried yet. It’s gotten great press.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’s about four blocks. Do you want to drive?”

Lacy glanced up at the sky, now sporting breaks in the clouds. “Can we walk?”

“I hoped you’d say that.” He nodded in the direction they should take. “’Course, that’ll make it that much longer until I get the story.”

“I don’t know the whole story myself, Chance. Maybe you can help me fill in some blanks.”

Chapter Four

The doorbell chimed, and Myles looked at his wristwatch. A bit early for Justine. His Top-siders touched down silently on the Carrara marble floor of the entryway. He opened the door to Carol Katz.

“Hello, Myles.” Her hot pink lips smiled.

He’d not seen her in at least a year, and only then from a distance. Her white hair suited her more than the yellow-blonde she’d hung on to for so many years.

“Carol, what a surprise.” She smiled as if he’d complimented her. “What brings you to see me?” Although he guessed why, he felt no desire to extend the courtesy of an invitation into his home, at least not until she volunteered what he already knew.

“It has been a while, Myles. You may be surprised to see me here, but I’m surprised I haven’t run into you around town in the last...what...year or two?”

“I’ve become quite a homebody.” As if he ran around town or anywhere near her world.

“If your home is as lovely as it was so many years ago, I guess I can understand that.” She glanced past his shoulder and into his entryway.

Ah, the reminder of their brief past. Of course she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to mention a time far more important to her than to him. Still, he didn’t extend the invitation. Impatience played at his nerves, but he waited.

She sighed and returned her gaze, cocking her head to one side in a flirtatious gesture. “I could’ve called, but I felt what I have to tell you might best be delivered with a personal touch.”

“Yes?” He knew what personal touch she might prefer. He’d given in to her some years back, in a maneuver to bargain her silence. In exchange, his silence of their adulterous affair had been his counter. Would her husband still care? He could put up with her less than subtle flirtations to get what he now wanted. “Perhaps you should come in then.”

She traipsed across the threshold, paused, her hip grazed his and she continued past him into his living room. She stopped in front of the fireplace and faced him. For her age, she wasn’t entirely unattractive. Some men his age might find her obvious attempt at seduction inviting. His mind wandered to the last young co-ed he’d had, and to Justine. Maybe money would entice Carol to do his bidding this time.

“I’d offer you tea, Carol, except I have an appointment shortly, so we’d best conduct our business.”

Her hand fell from her hip and fisted at her side. “Business?”

“I made the assumption.” He shrugged. “Forgive me if this is a social visit.”

“Of course it’s not a social visit.” Her shoulders squared, defensively. “I...I’ve seen some of Kaya’s work, some sketches, and thought you might want to know about them.”

He crossed the room to stand next to her. “I know about them, my dear Carol. The question is, what shall we do about them?”

“You know?”

“Please sit.”

He touched her elbow, pleased at her response, and she moved without hesitation, joining him on the sofa. The distance between them allowed him to hold her interest without any additional contact. It would be so easy, but the desire had long ago died.

“I knew she’d visit you. What do you want?”

“What do
I
want?” Her eyes blinked rapidly, and her hand went to her chest.

“Yes.” He nearly laughed at her feigned innocence. “You’re the auntie and in a good position to acquire the art, don’t you think? Just like you
acquired
the art of your deceased sister so many years ago. I was very appreciative, if you’ll remember.” The redness rising on her neck recalled his appreciation. The peak of her nipples formed the exclamation point. He settled against the sofa, confident she’d arrive at the conclusion he guided her toward. “I hoped we could work together on this. Surely the thought must have occurred to you.”

“Myles—”

“Come, come, Carol. You know money is not an issue.” No, money wouldn’t be an issue. Money would be the only form of payment he’d give her. He didn’t intend on a third affair like the second, a combination of lust and greed. He had no desire to entangle himself all over again with this needy woman, not the way she wanted anyway. He’d deal with only her greed now. “I’m counting on you, as I know I can, to keep our relationship in this affair a secret.” He leaned toward her, close enough to bathe her in his words. “As I have kept another affair secret for you.”

She clasped her hands in her lap, her mouth falling into what looked to be its natural scowl. Her fingers held her attention as she gathered her thoughts. When she finally looked into his face, a smirk accompanied her words. “Of course, Myles. How nice we can benefit, mutually.”

****

White linen, sleek recessed lighting and candles on the table—not what Lacy expected in this rugged mountain city. The host of the Brie showed them to a table by the window overlooking the street and train station beyond. Although a working station, the outside of the building looked more like a gingerbread house. An obvious draw for tourists, the city had capitalized on the focal point of the main road through town.

Chance rested his forearms on the table, gazing across the candle. Sparks flickered in his eyes and highlighted the gold in the hair falling onto his forehead. Although he looked more suited to a granola café or lumberjack inn, the contrast left her breathless with his raw masculinity. He appeared perfectly relaxed.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to follow his example—and to calm the quivers he caused. “You’re showing me a whole new side of Flagstaff.”

He gave a cursory glance at the art on the walls. “I think it’s the California influence.”

“California?” She opened the menu.

“We’ve been discovered and have quite a few transplants.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not if the food’s as good as they say.” One corner of his mouth ticked up as he opened the menu. “Which appetizer would you like?”

“They all look good.”

He cocked a brow and tipped his chin down. “I know you’re starving, but I’d say we should stick to two.”

She laughed. “And share?”

“Of course.” His full-blown smile met her laughter.

“Do you drink wine?”

“Anything red, regardless of what I’m eating.”

She smiled. “I’m so happy you’re not a wine snob. Red is always my preference.”

Chance opened the wine list. “Well, there are plenty of California offerings.”

“How about Merlot?”

The waitress approached the table, a young woman with her hair pulled back in a chignon, dressed in a white shirt and black slacks. Her smile widened when she saw Chance.

“Good evening, Sheriff.” She glanced between the two of them, a surprised slant to her eyes.

Lacy gawked at Chance. “Sheriff?” The dark and dangerous bad boy image might be blown.

He nodded at her then at the waitress. “Hi, Laura. Didn’t know you worked here.”

“This is my second week.” The young waitress glanced at her again with a sweet smile, looked at Chance and pinched her lips together as if suppressing a grin. “I’m still working at the Grand View and here part time. Until my husband gets a job.”

“Did you and the jerk get home okay last night?” He darted a glance at Lacy. “Her pet name for him, not mine.”

“Thank you, we did.” She rolled her eyes, opened her mouth then looked as if no more should be said on the matter. She raised her brows and flicked her eyes toward Lacy.

“Laura, this is Lacy Dahl. She’s visiting Flagstaff from Scottsdale where they light their walkways much better than we do.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Dahl. I didn’t know the Meadowlarks had friends in Scottsdale. I have an aunt who lives there.”

“Nice to meet you, Laura. I don’t think the Meadowlarks knew they had friends in Scottsdale either.”

Laura blinked. “Huh?”

Chance chuckled. “We’ve just met. Yesterday.”

“Did you mean the Grand View Hotel, Laura? That’s where I’m staying.”

“I clean rooms there. Do you like it?”

“Yes, and don’t tell me about the ghosts.” She smiled and waggled a finger at her. “Seems everyone is convinced I’ll see one.”

Laura stabbed the air with her ink pen. “I haven’t seen any, although one housekeeper tried to use it as an excuse for not putting a room back together properly.” She put a hand on her hip, mimicking the lazy maid. “I did clean the room. Must’ve been the ghost who made this mess.”

She giggled. “I better get your order. What can I start you two out with?”

“Your choice, Chance.” She closed her menu.

“Give us the grilled flatbread and also the asparagus appetizers. And a bottle of the Teira Merlot.”

“Great. Thanks, Sheriff.” Laura flashed them both a smile before moving to the next table.

“So, you’re a sheriff?” She regarded him with a different slant. Dangerous and sheriff didn’t seem congruous. Phoebe might be disappointed she hadn’t met her first bad boy after all. So much for first impressions. No surprise. Reading men was not her forte. If she’d gotten nothing else out of her marriage, she’d learned that about herself.

“Sheriff is what they call me.”

“Were you walking the beat last night when you came to my rescue?”

“I don’t walk a beat.” A chuckle cracked his serious expression.

“Well, what do sheriffs do?”

“I’m an elected official; the Coconino County sheriff. Most of what I do is—”

“Ah, the man in charge. Of the whole county?”

He shrugged, but he didn’t reply right away as Laura returned with their wine.

The man in charge fit him. On the surface anyway. She still couldn’t help but feel she’d read something about him, more than merely a reserved personality.

They gazed at each other as the young waitress poured the wine for him. He sipped and nodded his approval. She finished pouring and moved on.

“Okay,
Sheriff
, I’m impressed. Elected official. How daunting.”

“Daunting?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever dined with a politician before.”

“I’m far from a politician. I’m a sheriff, Lacy. Plain and simple.”

Sheriff or not, plain and simple hardly described the man on the other side of the table. Something simmered below the surface. Maybe his calm exterior and his unreadable face had something to do with his job. Or not. His demeanor spoke to privacy, and she couldn’t imagine him campaigning, speaking to crowds, making promises and kissing babies.

She lifted her glass. “Here’s to being in the right place at the right time.”

He lifted his glass in the air, lifted his brows in a question.

“You might have saved my life.” Although she’d been frightened last night, she joked about the experience.

His uplifted hand dipped a bit, he blinked and his copper eyes grew dark amber.

Did he think she’d really been in danger? She hesitated, thinking she should apologize for joking.

He drew a deep breath. “To new friends,” he said. Their glasses clinked. “And ghosts in dark alleys.”

BOOK: The Art of Love and Murder
11.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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