Living Lies (17 page)

“So do you believe our sister is a ghost, haunting the highway into town?” Paige asked.

“I don’t know,” Haley admitted with a shrug. “But it’s so strange.”

Paige nodded. “But why now? Why would she start appearing now after all these years?”

“She wanted to be found,” Dean said. “At least that’s what it seems like. She appeared to Sandra, and she found the skeleton. She’s appearing to you and Paige, so what does she want from both of you?”

“I don’t know,” Haley whispered.

Paige stubbed out the cigarette. “Me either, but I do know I’m tired and I want to go to bed. I’ll worry about this tomorrow with a clear head.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Haley agreed, barely stifling another yawn.

Paige stood and pulled on her jacket as Haley and Dean walked her to the door.

“You’re leaving me with your sister alone?” Dean asked, in mock horror.

“Yes, I am,” Paige said. “If anything happens to her, I’ll blame you, and there will be no where in this world you can hide from me.”

“Gotcha.” A slow smile curved his lips.

“I’ll come by the store tomorrow and we can talk about this some more.”

“Yeah, okay,” Haley said, opening the door. “I’ve got a customer coming in first thing…” The words died on her lips and her stomach leapt into her throat. A tissue wrapped bundle lay in the center of the porch.

Paige knelt and scooped them up. “Roses. Here’s the card.”

Haley took the small square envelope and removed the tiny white square, the words “I’m Sorry” printed neatly.

“Maybe whoever had been sending Michelle flowers killed her, and maybe that same person is sending you flowers,” Paige said, her lips curled in disgust.

“Our peeper was back at the window,” Dean said. “Those prints are new.”

Haley clutched the roses. How could someone have been right there and she not notice? Sick dread turned her insides cold. “Call me as soon as you get home. And make sure the doors and windows are all locked, okay?”

Paige nodded. “I will, but I’m more worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Haley stayed where she was until Paige drove out of sight. With a gentle tug on her arm, Dean pulled her back inside, closed the door and turned the bolt.

“I have to throw these out.” She held the roses away from her as if they were contaminated.

“I’ll do it.” Dean took the bundle and disappeared into the kitchen.

With a trembling sigh, Haley leaned back against the closed door. Tired as she was, sleep would be a long time coming.

Chapter Twenty

Haley squinted against the bright shaft of sunlight, stretching from the gap in the drapes, over the floor and up the side of her bed. Closing her eyes, she snuggled against Dean. His lean, hard body curved around her, his arm tight around her middle.

Last night, after throwing fresh sheets and coverings on the bed, they had made love into the early morning hours. She’d drawn comfort from his strong hands and gentle kisses. And even then, craving the security he wrapped around her like blanket, she had known accepting what he offered was a mistake. Soon he would be gone, and she would be on her own again.

With that dismal thought, she opened her eyes. Time to get up. So much light spilling into the room meant she had slept too long as it was.

Carefully, she eased away from Dean, trying to lift his arm without disturbing him. His grip on her waist tightened and his lips pressed against the back of her neck just below her ear. She shivered.

“Don’t go,” he murmured his breath hot against her skin.

“I have to. I’m already late.” Her voice trembled a little when she spoke and her resolve slipped as his fingertips moved feather soft over the curve of her hip. His hand trailed down her thigh then back up, lightly skimming the gentle dip of her waist. Goose bumps formed beneath his touch as he brushed over her ribs and cupped her breast, rolling the taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Tiny jolts rippled through her system.

Still, she fought for responsibility. “I’m meeting a customer this morning.”

“Please.” His voice was rough and pleading. His teeth scraped her neck, and his erection, hot and hard, pressed against her buttocks. “Just a little longer.”

A slow ache pounded inside her. She wanted so much from him, and what she felt terrified her.

His hand splayed her belly, sliding lower until he cupped her, his finger slipping inside.

“Dean.” Pleasure, fierce and overwhelming, streaked through her. Her hips rocked forward into his hand, as if of their own accord, driving his probing fingers deeper and bringing her to the thin edge of her control. His free hand eased beneath her side, cupping and kneading her swollen breasts.

Desperate for more of him, she reached her arms back. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as if to keep from being swept away by the torrent of sensation raging inside her.

She cried out as the first orgasm exploded inside her, like an invisible land mine, sending hot shards of shrapnel spiraling through her shuddering body. And still his hands and mouth drove her on.

“I want all of you,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper. His beard-roughened jaw scraped the soft skin on her shoulder.

Even that tiny sensation sent her already jangled nerve endings into overdrive. With aftershocks of her orgasm still surging through her, her greedy body sought more. Her hips moved to the pace Dean set instinctively. She arched back giving him better access to her heavy breasts, and her heart seemed to swell in her chest from the fierce emotions assailing her.

“All of you,” he said again, nudging her legs apart with his knee.

“I can’t,” she half-moaned half-panted.

He lifted her leg high with his. She heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper then the blunt end of his penis pressed against her sex.

“You can,” he ground out and drove inside her, filling her.

White-hot need coiled low in her belly, growing tighter with his every thrust. His fingers continued to manipulate the soft folds of her flesh, and with her leg over his she had no choice but to follow his hard, furious pace. Each deep plunge sent her soaring higher and higher. She cried out as her orgasm burst and swept through her, fierce and fast like a flash flood, leaving her clinging to him.

With a final thrust, Dean gripped her hips and pulled her tight against him. His ragged gasp filled her ear as he came in his own shuddering release.

For a moment, Haley stayed as she was, her leg draped over Dean’s and her fingers gripping his hair. Oh, God. What had just happened? She’d had sex before, and she’d come before. But nothing like this. Nothing so powerful and all-consuming. Her heart thudded against her chest and her skin tingled where he had touched her.

Dean shifted and rolled her gently onto her back. His face hovered over hers, his smoky gray-green eyes bright with emotion. Her throat tightened and she was filled with an almost terrifying need. When he opened his mouth to speak, she drew his head down pressing her lips to his and keeping him from saying something neither of them could live up to.

“Good morning.” He lifted his head, a half-smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m sorry if I made you late.”

“No, you’re not.” She ran her hand over his smooth chest. She might never get enough of touching him. “But then, neither am I.”

“Why don’t we forget everything else and stay like this for the rest of the day?” His smirk widened as his hand gently smoothed her hair away from her face.

The idea was tempting. Too tempting. “I can’t,” she groaned and wriggled out from under him. “I need to take a shower and get to work.”

Dean watched her cross the room naked, his appreciative gaze running up and down her small, lithe form. Her hair fell just past her shoulders, curling slightly inward over the swell of her breasts. She pulled on her robe, covering her nakedness.

After she slipped from the room, he fell back against the tangled blankets, the memory of her body moving with his still fresh in his mind. And her eyes, dark and swirling, looking up at him afterward. He could have drowned in them, drowned in her.

The feelings he had for her were growing and becoming more complex by the moment. Eventually, he would have to go home to the life he’d built, and she would stay here, in the life she lived.

He got up, discarded the condom and cleaned himself up, then yanked on his jeans and sweater from the night before, thoughts of the future too grim to dwell on for long.

Once downstairs, he started the coffee and waited for it to brew. He’d left his computer in the backseat of the car last night in his rush to make sure Haley had been okay. He hoped it was still there.

He made his way down the hall, shoved his bare feet into his boots and stepped outside. The sun glared from the cloudless blue sky off the stark, blindingly white snow. The frigid wind lashed cruelly at the bare skin of his face and hands, blowing through his clothes as if he wore nothing at all.

He jogged to his car parked on the opposite side of the road from Haley’s house. With his head bent against the wind, he turned his key in the lock. The black bag sat on the floor, wedged between the front and backseat, just where he’d left it. Thank God, half his life was on that thing. He’d been pretty stupid to forget it outside, but then lately his mind wasn’t where it should be.

He grabbed it from the back seat, slung the strap over his shoulder then slammed the door shut. As he started back to the house, something caught his eye.

Slight impressions half-buried in the snow and running up the side of Haley’s house. Dean walked along the shoveled sidewalk. Footprints, he realized as he grew closer, partially hidden by yesterday’s flurries.

The snow glittered under the sun’s brilliant glare and small clouds of powder, like curls of smoke, twisted and danced in the wind. Leaving the sidewalk, he stepped into the footprints to keep from sinking in the deep snow as he followed them to the door off Haley’s kitchen. He tried the knob, but it wouldn’t turn. Locked.

Tiny rivulets of snow spilled into his unlaced boots, freezing his bare feet. He squatted to inspect the lock. This had to be how the intruder was entering Haley’s house, but from where he stood, there was no evidence the lock had been tampered with.

The door swung inward, making him jump.

“What are you doing?” Haley asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Again he looked closely at the lock, moving inside and kneeling on the kitchen floor to study both sides. He ran his finger over the smooth metal. No sign of scoring, or anything else that would have forced the mechanism.

“Damn my feet are freezing,” he muttered, stepping out of his boots and closing the door. He set his computer on the floor beside him.

“What were you doing out there?” Haley asked, frowning.

“When I went to get my stuff from the car, I saw footprints in the snow next to the house.”

Her face paled. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know for sure, but if I were to guess, I think whoever is getting into your house is using this door.”

“Not good.”

Oh, it gets worse. “And unless your intruder is an expert lock picker, he has a key.”

“This is too much,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. He moved to pull her to him, but she stepped away. A tiny ripple of fear stirred inside him, but he ignored it.

“So whoever is doing this is someone I know.”

“You can’t be certain of that.”

“How else would he be getting in here? My mother and brother are the only other people who have a key to my house.”

“You’re renting, right? Your landlord would have a copy. And I bet the locks in this place haven’t been changed in years. Previous tenants could still have keys. Just because someone is unlocking and locking this door doesn’t mean it’s someone you know.”

Haley nodded slowly. He wanted to touch her, sooth her, but he was afraid she would move away from him again.

“While you’re at work I’ll pick up new locks and install them. Until we’ve got this mess figured out, don’t give a copy of the new key to anyone.”

She nodded. “I’ll give you some money.”

He wanted to shake her, tell her to forget the money, but he didn’t. She was trying to put distance between them, and maybe that was best. Even if the idea scraped him raw.

“Don’t worry about that now. Wait until I’m done.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to get going. I’m really late.”

He nodded. She pulled on her jacket and slipped out the front door. A heaviness settled over him. He didn’t want to leave her, but he knew he would. And so did she.

Haley parked next to Al’s car in the alley behind the store and did her best to ignore the sick feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t care what Dean said, someone she knew had been breaking into her house, peering into her windows and vandalizing her bedrooms.

As if having her sister’s killer stalking her wasn’t bad enough, she’d hopelessly complicated her life by falling in love with a man she couldn’t have. And it was love. No matter how she tried to convince herself that everything she felt was simply the result of really good sex, even she wasn’t buying it anymore.

What had she been thinking, letting this happen? She had been relying on him too much, depending on him. That had been her mistake. She knew better than to rely on anyone else. It left her open to disappointment. Once inside, she’d call Dean and tell him not to bother with the locks, she’d pick them up herself.

She climbed out of the car and hurried to the back door. She was nearly forty-five minutes late. Al had made it in before her for once. Maybe he’d already taken care of the Burlands. Not likely. As she had driven down Main, she noticed the closed sign still in the window and the lights off in the store.

God forbid Allister show a little initiative. Do something without being told. She yanked on the door, toppling a small drift of snow at the base.

Inside, the room was dark. “Christ Al,” she muttered, turning to the alarm then remembering Al would have at least already entered the code. “What are you doing sitting in the dark…”

The words died on her lips. Something permeated the air stronger than the combined chemical odor of solvents and stains. A stink like rancid meat.

No more.

The words screamed in her head, but she flipped on the lights anyway. Her stomach rolled and the spit in her mouth dried instantly. She might have screamed, except her voice had vanished.

Al lay in a dark, red puddle in the middle of the floor. At least she assumed the body, beneath the clotted mess of flesh, bone and hair was Al. He wore the same clothes Al had been wearing when she left last night.

OhGodohGodohGod!

The sound of her pounding heart filled her ears with a rush as the blood drained from her face and cool sweat slicked her skin. She scrambled into the bathroom, emptying her meager stomach contents into the toilet.

Once the waves of dry heaves passed, she pushed herself up, trembling. Her cheeks damp with silent tears.

What next? What do you do when you find a dead man in your shop? The police. She would call the police.

Wiping her face, she forced her feet to move and stumbled out of the bathroom. Careful to keep her toes from disturbing the wide puddle, she edged around the corpse and slipped through the door into the store.

With the mutilated body out of sight, she let out a trembling breath. That couldn’t be Al, not that poor, battered creature. It had to be a fake. Not real, just something to scare her. But the thick, meaty smell, hanging heavy in the air killed any hope of falling for her own explanations.

Her hand shook as she lifted the phone to her ear and called the police. How could any of this be happening? How could everything have turned so badly so quickly?