Home Is Where the Heart Is (9 page)

Kyra took in the simplicity of the décor, appreciating the natural light that radiated through the windows. She had always enjoyed how large windows made you feel as though there was no separation between you and nature. Looking around the large living room, she realized how much she felt at ease in his house. Safe.

“It’s beautiful, Dylan. Your house is so… cozy and warm.” She turned to face him. “It’s definitely you.”

Dylan smiled back at her. “Yeah I guess it is. Simple, that’s me. Let’s get you settled in.”

At the end of the long hallway, he opened one of the bedroom doors, revealing the most amazing little guest room she had ever seen. She had stayed at a bed and breakfast with Paula several years ago and this room reminded her so much of the comfort she felt on that trip. It was perfect. Charming, yet rustic.

“My room is just across the hall.” He pointed at the door across from hers Kyra tried really hard to not think anything naughty about them sleeping so close to each other. Tried, but failed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Just down the road, Harley Daniels sat in her car, burning with anger. She had followed Dylan and Kyra through town, watching them like a demented predator stalking its prey. Seeing Dylan touch Kyra, seeing how he’d cradled her in his arms had Harley’s blood boiling. She didn’t have a plan yet, but she would come up with something. There was no way in hell that she would let boring little plain jane Kyra have Dylan. He was hers. No other woman would ever have him if she had anything to say about it.

Pulling an old pair of binoculars from the glove compartment, she angled them towards the cabin, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening inside. Not being able to see much more than shadows passing in front of the windows, she gave up for the day. Needing a drink to calm her anger, she headed over to Skells Bar. It was an interesting place, no matter what day of the week. Members of Sizzle’s police force always made an appearance there, livening things up. She had spent a lot of time there with Dylan back when he was a cop.

Harley pulled into the parking lot, parking as close to the door as she could. It was a safety measure she prided herself in. You never knew what kind of men would find their way there. She exited the car and headed for the door, trying to figure out what her next move would be. Grasping the door handle, she tugged it open, stepping into the dark smoky room. Making her way to the end of the bar near the jukebox, she took a seat, taking in the sounds of laughter, pool sticks banging against the colorful pool balls, before ordering a whiskey sour. She nursed her drink, hoping it would bring clarity to her thoughts. It didn’t. All she could see was Kyra stealing the one thing she wanted more than anything.

“Hey there, Harley! What’s got you looking so down?” asked a middle-aged cop.

She had seen the guy around town several times, most recently at John Michael’s funeral. He seemed pleasant enough, a little older than she’d typically go for, but Harley didn’t really care for company. Not tonight. “Nothing!” she said sharply. Running her finger around the rim of her glass, she stared into her drink.

“Aww now, Harley. You can tell me. Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think so. Who are you anyway?” she responded with a sharpness that could cut to the bone.

He gave her a half-smile. “I’m Detective McAllen.”

“I’m just upset. Things are going to get better though, really soon.”

“How about I buy you another drink?” McAllen motioned for the bartender to bring them another round of drinks.

Harley drank several more drinks, becoming pretty darn inebriated. She hadn’t drunk this much in months, and with her small frame, she knew she had exceeded her limit hours ago. She danced a few times with McAllen, having a better time than she had expected, almost forgetting what brought her there to begin with.

“I need to head home, McAllen,” Harley said in a slurred voice, barely audible against the noises of the bar. “Thanks for the company tonight.” She stood on shaky legs, wobbling back and forth. Grabbing for the edge of the bar to steady herself, she glanced at the cop.

He reached for her arm, holding her upright. “Let me give you a ride home, Harley. You know you shouldn’t be on the road driving.” Before Harley could respond, he motioned another cop over, asking him to follow behind them and get him back to his car. The young officer agreed without question and they headed for the door. 

“Thanks for helping me get home, you two,” Harley said, letting McAllen support most of her weight.

Her head was spinning like she had been stuck in a tilt-o-whirl. Stamping down the bile making its way up her esophagus, she closed her eyes hoping the feeling would subside. It didn’t.

“What’s your address, Harley?” McAllen asked.

She rattled off her address, not realizing they were already headed in that direction. She should have felt worried but he was a cop and cops could be trusted. Right? Leaning her head against the window, appreciating the coolness it provided, her thoughts returned to Kyra and Dylan. She must have mumbled her thoughts out loud because McAllen responded.

“Harley, you could do something about that nosey little bitch.”

Harley shrugged, pouting. “I… I just don’t know what to do.”

“Sure you do, girl. You fight for what you want.” McAllen smirked, knowing Harley couldn’t see him in the dark. Everyone in town knew about Harley and Dylan’s history. McAllen planned to use it to his advantage. From the look on the girls face, the wheels were already turning full tilt. Good.

Harley didn’t respond this time. She could tell the cop what she really wanted to do to Kyra. He would arrest her ass and then she would never get the revenge she wanted. Deciding it was in her best interest to remain silent, she closed her eyes and nodded off.

“We’re here, Harley,” McAllen said, reaching across to shake her arm.

“Alright,” she responded with a mumble as she rubbed her eyes.

“I’ll help you inside. Where are your keys?”

“Here.” She pulled the keys from her pocket and handed them to him.

He helped her out of the car, towards the front door. She leaned against the doorframe as he unlocked it. She desperately needed to lie down. After McAllen settled Harley on her couch, he turned and walked out the door.

McAllen made his way past Harley’s car to the patrol car waiting behind it. His partner, Detective James, the thirty-year-old rookie cop he had been saddled with six months ago, waited. James was one of those cops that wanted to make a difference. McAllen had been that way, too, until things changed in Sizzle. When debts began to grow larger than mountains, his wife had left him holding it all alone.

He never intended to be a dirty cop, but he couldn’t pay his debts, and the thought of losing his family home tore him to pieces. He had only intended to take a few bribes, just enough to pay off the debts and get in the clear financially. McAllen didn’t realize that getting out wouldn’t be as easy as getting involved in the murky dealings going on in the little town. Now he was stuck, firmly rooted between the old rock and a hard place. All he could do now was continue to do as he was told. He slid into the patrol car next to his partner.

“How’s the girl?” James asked.

“She’s settled in for the night,” he responded without thought. “Get me back to my car man. It’s been a long night.”

“Sure thing, partner.”

They rode in silence back to the bar. James pulled up behind McAllen’s car. McAllen sighed and opened the door, taking his time exiting the vehicle. “Thanks for the ride.” He shut the cruiser door, not bothering to wait for a response from his partner.

McAllen pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked his Dodge pickup. As he climbed inside, his hand brushed against a package wrapped snugly in a towel on the seat. The serial numbers had been removed long ago from the gun. His orders were to dispose of it. He hated getting innocent people involved in a murder, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. If he fucked this up, the man in charge would have him pay. The price was too high. He’d do what was asked of him as long as he didn’t have to kill to do it. Even that hadn’t worked out so fucking well.

Cranking his old Dodge truck, he slammed it in gear. As he turned onto the highway, he checked his rearview mirror, making sure no one followed him. He couldn’t risk being seen. Harley’s house was a few miles away so he would have to park a few blocks away and sneak around like scum of the earth to plant the weapon in her car. He blanched at the idea of what she might do with it, but whatever she decided to do, it was on her.

Staying in the shadows, he made his way back to her yard. The lights in the house were off, assuring him that she wouldn’t see him there. He took notice of the surrounding houses; they too were dark and quiet. Easing the car door open, he unwrapped the .45 caliber Glock semi-automatic, making sure to wipe it down again with the towel before placing it in the glove compartment. Looking around the neighborhood one more time, he eased the car door shut until he heard it click, and then quickly made his way back to his truck and headed home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Once Dylan had settled Kyra at his house and she had become comfortable in her new surroundings, he headed back to the office to meet up with Jake. They had a lot of work to do. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Kyra was in danger. In just under two weeks, both of her parents had been murdered. He had to get to the bottom of this, and fast. Murder wasn’t a normal occurrence in Sizzle, and the idea that two murders had taken place in such a short time was cause for concern. Southern Gentlemen’s Detective Agency had their hands full with this one. Dylan had to find someone at the police department that he could trust.

He flicked the turn signal and eased into the parking lot of the detective agency. The parking lot was empty except for Jake’s motorcycle. He’d have to pick his up at the Michaels’ residence soon. Making his way inside, he found Jake huddled in front of the computer. Jake looked up from the screen, nodding at Dylan.

“Jake, this case is getting out of control,” Dylan said, worry in his voice.

“I agree. Should we call in Jordan? We could really use an extra set of hands.”

“Not yet,” Dylan answered. “I have an idea.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“There were two detectives that met with Kyra and Liz about Mr. Michaels’ death,” Dylan said. “Let’s do a little research on them. Maybe one of them could help us access police records.”

Jake shook his head, concern on his face. “I don’t know, man. You know what that department is like. It’s risky.”

“I know, but they aren’t all dirty. We’re proof of that.”

“You’re right about that. I’ll do some digging around.”

Dylan pulled the police reports for John and Liz Michaels hoping to find something. The same signature was at the bottom of each report. “Jake, do we know anything about a Detective McAllen?”

“McAllen? He’s one of the guys that met with Kyra and her mother. I’m pulling financials now.”

Jake recited all of the debts that McAllen had up until a few years ago when they suddenly disappeared. “His accounts reflect the usual steady deposits of paychecks from the police department. No other income.”

Dylan shook his head. “There’s no way a cop could come up with as much money as he did without playing dirty. What about his partner?”

“That would be a Detective James,” Jake said, looking at the information on his screen. “He’s a rookie. Been on the police department payroll for about six months now; seems to be clean as a whistle.”

“He’s our guy,” Dylan said coolly.

Dylan and Jake ran through several different scenarios to approach McAllen’s partner. They decided it might be best to catch him at home, away from McAllen. They’d have to do a little recon to work out his schedule before they moved forward with their plan, and Jake wanted to check with a few more contacts to make sure the guy was as clean as he looked.

Realizing how late it was, Dylan called to check on Kyra. He hated leaving her alone. As small as the town was, whoever was behind the murders would know where she was and that she was alone.

“Kyra. How’s everything going there?” he asked in a soft voice.

“I’m fine, Dylan. I’m just throwing together a late dinner. I hope you didn’t have plans for the steaks in the freezer?”

“Nope. Like I said, just make yourself at home. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Okay, see you then,” Kyra said before hanging up.

Dylan couldn’t wait to spend time with Kyra tonight. He was really looking forward to a nice quiet evening, but before he could let his mind run away with thoughts of holding her, touching her, feeling her lips on his, he had to take care of business. “Jake can you drive me over to the Michaels residence to pick up my motorcycle?”

“Sure. We’ve done as much as we can for today.”

They climbed into Kyra’s mini cooper and headed out. It was a tight fit for the large men. They were like two sharks crammed into a tin can. Arriving at the Michaels home, Dylan handed Jake his key. He didn’t know how Kyra would feel about letting someone else drive her car. It was better to play it safe and have Jake ride his bike back to the office. The trip didn’t take long because he was damn excited to get home for a change. For so long, Dylan had nothing but an empty house waiting for him, so he had thrown himself into work to avoid having to be there any more than necessary.

Jake could tell that Dylan was in love with Kyra. He was usually wound so tight it seemed like he would burst. Kyra relaxed him. He had given Dylan hell over dating Harley. She was one of those girls that would leave a path of destruction everywhere she went. As far as Jake was concerned, Harley was a piranha, snacking on any man that hung around long enough for her to sink her teeth into. Dylan deserved better than that. Hell everyone did! It was a damn shame that neither Dylan nor Kyra realized they both were in love with each other. And to think that Kyra thought Dylan was married to that conniving little bitch was crazy. He had wanted to tell her she was wrong but couldn’t do it. Soon enough they’d both figure things out on their own.