Blood Ties (16 page)

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Authors: Judith E. French

BOOK: Blood Ties
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"Here on Tawes?" Abbie asked.

"Yeah, but not just on Tawes-in the marsh near the
burial ground."

Buck shook his head. "Didn't see it."

"You've seen that reporter Tess Quinn on the evening news, haven't you? "Well, she's investigating the
death. Calls it a genuine mystery."

Buck arched an eyebrow skeptically.

"The dead man was Fleming Caulk. I remember
when it happened, but it's been so long ago, I clean
forgot. Caulks are good people, been on Deal Island
almost as long as Parkses have been on Tawes."

"I know the surname, but I don't remember his
death," Buck said.

Emma nodded. "You must remember. Everybody
talked about it. Fleming Caulk? Middle-aged. Crabber? George Williams found Fleming stone dead on
his boat."

"What was the cause of death?" Abbie paused in
spreading peach jam on her biscuit.

"Head injuries," Emma said. "Authorities said it was
an accident. Mainland authorities, state police, or a medical examiner from the county. We didn't have
any law on Tawes back then."

"But if it was an accident-" Abbie began.

Emma raised a hand dramatically. "Found Indian
arrowheads and a bloody stone mortar next to the
body." She sniffed. Accident? Bull pizzles! Fleming
Caulk sure didn't trip over his own feet, fall, and crack
his skull on that corn grinder. What he did was dig up
that Indian stuff in the burial ground to sell at the auction in Church Hill. Whoever or whatever killed him,
it was no accident."

Daniel threw back the sheet, got out of bed, and
opened the Roman shades so that a flood of sunlight
illuminated Bailey's bed. She groaned, rolled onto her
stomach, and buried her head under a pillow. "Let me
sleep," she mumbled.

"Have I told you what a nice ass you have?"

"Mmm. Go away."

He returned to the bed, sat on her side, and patted
her bare buttocks. "Nice and smooth," he teased. "Perfect. Really a perfect little ass."

"It's the middle of the night."

"It's eight forty-five. Time to milk the cows."

She moaned and burrowed deeper. "No cows."

"Then we should get some." He caressed the curves
of her bottom with the palm of his hand before
running his fingers up to massage the small of her
back.

"Mmm. Higher. Scratch. My back itches."

"Your wish is my command, darlin'."

"Not quite. You didn't fix the towel bar."

"I told you. I have to buy longer screws next time
I'm in Crisfield. Dori's Market is out of them." He
scratched her back before massaging her shoulders
and the nape of her neck.

"Don't stop. It feels heavenly."

"You have freckles," he pronounced, kissing one after another. "If I had a Magic Marker, I could connect
the dots." He began to tickle her ribs, and Bailey
squealed, rolled over, and threw her pillow at him.

Daniel arched over her, careful to brace his weight
on his knees and elbows. "Got you!"

Bailey laughed. "Cheater." She wrapped her arms
around his neck and pulled his head down until their
lips met.

Her kiss was slow and sweet. He could taste minty
toothpaste. Sometime before dawn, when she'd made
the second or third trip to the bathroom, she must
have brushed her teeth before returning to bed. Their
kiss deepened, and he moaned in contentment as
waves of pleasure swept through him.

Tingles of desire became a rush. He could feel himself growing harder. She felt so good. He wanted to
bury himself in her and stay there forever ... never
leaving this room ... never being hassled by the
agency or dealing with Lucas's threats and blackmail.
Never having to think of a small boy who might be in
danger.

She made a small sound in her throat, and his
breathing quickened. She was so small, so vulnerable.
The thought that she was carrying his child made her
all the more precious to him. He wondered if he
could ask her to mother a stranger's child, born half a
world away.

"Love you," she whispered in his ear.

"Me too." He nuzzled her neck, thinking she was the
best thing that ever happened to him. "You smell
good."

"Don't think this lets you off the hook." She wound
a lock of his hair around her finger and tugged at it.

"Ouch! What's that for?"

"To remind you that you aren't forgiven." She nibbled at his shoulder and goose bumps rose on his skin.

"Not even a little?" He pushed his fears to the far
corners of his mind and grazed the hollow of her
throat with the tip of his tongue. She made a small
sound as he slid a hand down to explore her inner
thigh. "Mmm, nice."

"Daniel ... We don't have time. I promised Abbie-"

She gasped as he lowered his head and drew her
nipple between his lips. He suckled gently, savoring
the exquisite sensation of her warm body beneath
his. "Woman-do you have any idea what you do to
me?"

"I mean it, Daniel. Oh ... "

He kissed her other breast, circling the pink aureole
with his tongue until her nipple grew taut and erect. "I
should have noticed. They're growing, aren't they?"
he asked.

"I'll be huge."

He laughed and trailed kisses between her breasts.
"Fine by me." God, but the scent of her made him
crazy. They'd made love twice the night before, but he
wanted her as much as he had the first time he'd taken
her to his bed.

She pulled his hair again. "My belly ... not my
breasts. I'll look like a walrus."

"Then you'll be a beautiful walrus." Daniel pressed
his cheek against her stomach. "Doesn't feel any fatter.
Are you sure there's a little Catlin in there?"

Bailey rubbed against him and sighed. "I'm sure. So
will you be in another month or two."

"Are you in there, Angus?"

She giggled. "We are not naming our daughter Angus."

"Son. That's a son. Aren't you, boy?" He raised his head and peered up at her. "He's says he's got a willie
and that makes him a boy. All the Catlin males in our
family had willies."

"Get off." She twisted out from under him.

"Why? It was just getting interesting." He moistened
her belly button with his tongue. "Maybe a little farther south..."

"Nope." Bailey sat up and curled her legs under
her. "You're sweet, and it feels good, but it's just not
happening for me this morning." Her dark red hair
tumbled in damp tangles over her pink cheeks. "We
really don't have time to play. It's late. I have to meet
Abbie."

Disappointed, he rolled over onto his back. "You
know how to take the wind out of a man's sails."

"You're oversexed. It's all you think about."

"Not my fault," he countered. "It's yours, darlin'.
You are one hot babe."

"With my new boobs."

"Those too." He grinned. "And I didn't get any
complaints until-"

"Until I got preggers and started throwing up?"

"I'm sorry, hon."

"Sorry you've lost your playmate, or sorry that we're
going to be parents?"

"You know better than that, Bailey. I love you, and I
think you're more beautiful than ever. Even if you are
bitchy in the morning."

"I know I am. Cathy says it's my hormones." She grimaced. "I hope you aren't sorry five months from now
when I look like a whale."

"I thought it was a walrus." He leaned close and
kissed her. "Why don't I make you some breakfast?
Bring you some hot tea, a few scrambled eggs. Sausage.
We could-"

"No eggs. And no sausage. Yuck. Toast. Tea. And I
need to shower before I ride out to the site."

He leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder. "We
could shower together. I'll scrub your back."

"How about a rain check?"

"One-time offer. Going fast."

She covered her ears. "No. No. No. You make tea.
I'll shower. Alone." She rose and padded barefoot
toward the adjoining bathroom.

Bailey had inherited the old farmhouse a year ago,
and when she'd decided to live in it instead of selling,
the first change she'd made was to turn a bedroom
into a custom bath and dressing room. Daniel loved
the rain shower.

"You play dirty."

"Do I?" She paused in the doorway and looked back
at him. "No more secrets, Daniel. I mean it. I don't understand how you and Mallalai could have had a child
without-"

"We weren't together that often. Sometimes I didn't
see her for months on end. You wanted to know what
was wrong, and I told you. What else do you want from
me?" He hadn't told her about Lucas or the blackmail,
and he had no intention of doing it. Not unless the situation became more volatile. Explaining why Lucas
had contacted him would mean telling Bailey about
the money in the Caymans. He wasn't prepared to
open that can of worms.

"And this boy is the right age? He could be yours?"

"He would have had to be born ..." He thought
back, trying to remember. "It was crazy over there, Bailey. Mallalai was killed almost two and a half years ago.
I suppose the boy-if he is mine-would have to be a
little older than that, but not three yet."

"And that's it? That's all you know?"

"I said so, didn't I?" He pulled on his shorts. "Sure I
couldn't interest you in blueberry pancakes?"

"Just toast and tea."

"Coming right up." He pulled his shirt over his
head. "Are you certain you're up to working on the
site?"

"I'm pregnant, not an invalid. At least I won't be,
once I get over the morning nausea."

"I could take you there in the boat."

"No. I'd rather ride horseback. And George's house
isn't that far away if I'm not feeling well."

Daniel shook his head. "Don't mess with him. He's
not-"

"I thought he was nice. When Karen and I found the
body, he couldn't do enough for us."

"Take my word for it, hon. I've known George all my
life. Stay away from him."

"That's what you told me about Uncle Will when I
first came to Tawes," she reminded him.

"For the love of God, Bailey. Do you have to make a
drama out of everything I say? George is an old
drunk."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think maybe you were
a closet racist." She disappeared into the bathroom.

"Fine. Suit yourself," he called after her. "You always do."

She ducked her head back into the doorway. "On
second thought, Daniel, forget breakfast. Go home
and yell at your cat. Just lock the door behind you on
your way out."

"I don't want to argue with you this morning."

"Good. Neither do I. So don't be an ass, and we
won't have any reason to argue."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Just go, Daniel. Go before we really get into it."

"Are you still coming to supper tonight? I promised
Will soft crabs."

"Tonight," she agreed. "But you'd better be on your
best behavior."

Right, he thought. He wondered if he was working
himself out of a bad situation or just getting in
deeper.

 

Heart hammering in his chest, he opened the barn
door and crossed the dusty floor to the ladder. He was
cautious, watching to make certain that no one saw
him leave the house or followed him to the stable. He
hadn't been here in a long time. No one had.

Spiderwebs hung from the rafters along with rope,
crab floats, and a trap in need of repair. His mouth
was dry, and he felt blood pounding in his veins. He
could still taste the coffee he'd had with his morning
eggs, and he knew he should have made a new pot instead of drinking what has been sitting on the stove all
night. Leftover coffee never tasted as good, even if he
sweetened it with four spoons of sugar. He liked sugar,
always had. When he was a boy, he'd buy candy whenever he got the chance. His mother told him that his
teeth would turn black and fall out, but that never
happened. He wondered what it was about mothers
that made them take pleasure in stopping boys from
doing what they loved most.

Outside, it was bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. It was dark in here. No light filtered through the
dirty windows. He supposed they hadn't been washed
in ... He laughed, and his voice echoed through the
sagging building. He didn't think the windows had
ever been washed.

No animals lived in the barn now except a stray
chicken or two, those the foxes and weasels hadn't
caught. He remembered when the barn had sheltered
cows and horses. No more. It didn't pay to keep a cow.
It was easier to buy canned milk from the store.

He looked down at the tracks his mocassins made
on the dusty floor and then back at the ladder. He
hoped the ladder would hold him. The third rung was
missing a nail and had dried chicken poop on it. The
fifth rung was rotten. He'd have to take care.

He reached into his pocket, removed the small section of bone, and rubbed it between his fingers. He'd
found it in the burial ground years ago, and he carried
it with him always. He didn't know what he'd do if he
lost it. It felt warm to his touch. He wasn't certain what
it was. He thought it might be a section of a child's rib
bone, but the salt water had softened the edges so that
it crumbled if he squeezed too hard.

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