Slow Burn (22 page)

They started up the stairs. “We owe Sandy a good dinner for this one.”

“Sandy makes lots of money off us,” Jared said dryly.

“But she also works very hard and is good at what she does,” Spencer commented with a slight frown furrowing her brow. His mood was definitely on the sour side today. He wasn't usually so down on people.

When they got to the landing Spencer gave a little cry of delight. A hallway led to one side, and the door to the master suite was perhaps twenty-five feet in front of her. To her left the balcony stretched out, ever larger than it had appeared from below. And the living room, with its beautifully stenciled beams and arches and French doors, was an incredible sight.

Spencer walked to the balcony, Jared close behind her.

“The railing is low,” he commented.

“It's perspective. From below, it looks tall,” Spencer told him, sliding her hands over the old wooden railing. She noticed that the rungs were rotting in places. “It's such a shame this place was let go for so long.”

“This railing could break through in a dozen places,” Jared agreed, coming to stand next to her. He gripped the rail, as well, looking over.

A trickle of unease swept through Spencer as she watched her cousin. “Jared, you shouldn't lean over like that. You know this place is in bad condition.”

“Strange, Spencer, that they would have made this so short. Even for perspective. Imagine someone with small children. A little seven-or eight-year-old having a fight with his brother, the nine-or ten-year-old. They come out on this balcony, squabbling, horsing around. Sam makes a jab for Harvey. Harvey moves. Sam goes sailing on by. Over the railing. Splat. It really is a long way down from here.”

He shivered suddenly. It looked as if he was about to topple over at any second.

“Jared!”

“Spencer, you should look straight down. God, it's chilling. Come over here. Look.”

He looked at her, stretching out an arm toward her. His eyes seemed strangely glazed. She was suddenly frightened of him, no matter how much she reminded herself that he was her cousin.

Her blood.

A curious smile curved his mouth. “Spencer…”

He was reaching for her, determined. She started to back away. Too late.

His fingers caught hold of her wrist.

She stared at him. Into his eyes, ready to tense. To fight. He was over six feet. Tall, strong. In good shape.

“Jared,” she began softly.

“Spencer.” His voice seemed like a hiss from far away.

Chills exploded along her spine.

“Spencer!”

This time her name was called out sharply in a deep strong, masculine voice. Called out from below.

Jared instantly released her hand and stepped back. Spencer inhaled deeply. Her cousin seemed to give himself a shake.

“Spencer!” came the sharp sound of her name again.

From a distance she peered carefully over the rail. Her heart was still pounding. Even before she saw his tense, upturned face and the thick thatch of dark hair falling over his forehead, she had known who she would see.

David.

Thank God.

He'd been so far away, and now he'd finally come close.

Just in the nick of time.

“I
t's David,” Jared said. “Hey, Delgado! Can you imagine growing up in a place like this?” he called down.

Spencer had already turned. Already started downstairs. She collided with David halfway down. He caught her by her shoulders, steadying her.

Strange, when he held her like this, looking into her eyes for the source of her panic, she felt foolish. Jared couldn't have meant to push her over the railing any more than he had meant to topple over it himself.

“We would have destroyed it,” Jared continued, falling in behind Spencer. He was smiling, greeting David with a handshake. He looked as innocent of any possible evildoing as a Dalmation puppy.

“Well, I definitely can't imagine me growing up here,” David agreed. He gave Spencer another curious look and started up the steps again, heading for the balcony that had seemed so beautiful to her when she had first arrived.

“Don't go too close to the railing!” she warned.

“It's all right—David is steady on his feet,” Jared said. Spencer felt everything inside her tense up as Jared joined David at the railing and pointed out something below that David bent to see. As far as Spencer was concerned, both men were in precarious positions.

“Would you two quit acting like adolescents and get away from that railing!” she demanded irritably.

Both men turned and stared at her with surprise. “I was just trying to show him the way the support beams were cut,” Jared said.

Spencer didn't say anything. Instead she went to inspect the bedrooms, trying to keep the house uppermost in her mind. She couldn't quite do it. Inside, something was screaming that her cousin, a man who had been her friend all her life, might have been about to kill her just a few minutes ago. But no man could attempt murder and then appear so completely innocent of any wrongdoing right afterward. Could he? She had overreacted. He had encouraged David forward in the same way, and nothing had happened. Jared couldn't have meant to kill her.

But she was still afraid.

There were five bedrooms on the second floor. The master suite was large, with a beautiful sitting room that looked over the golf course and pool. The baths weren't small, but they weren't particularly generous, either. Most of the grande dames built in the twenties had many of the same characteristics; the downstairs entertaining areas were beautiful and lushly proportioned, while less attention had been given to some of the details that were so important today, such as big bathrooms and large closets. But everything here was wonderfully workable. The master suite was definitely large enough for her to enlarge the bathroom and add a much larger closet at the other end of the bedroom.

David and Jared stepped into the room behind her. Jared leaned against a wall, watching her with what looked like affectionate amusement. “What are you still looking around for? You know you're going to buy the place.” He looked at David. “And she doesn't like the balcony railing, so it's the first thing she'll change.”

Spencer crossed her arms over her chest. “Whether I like it or not, it has to come down. But first we have to rewire the electricity and redo all the plumbing, even some of the lathing, I imagine. And all that will be well before I decide on what kind of railing I'm going to use.”

“
She's
going to use?” David said. “Don't you get any say in this?” he asked Jared.

Jared smiled again, watching Spencer. “Usually, of course, I would. And Sly would give his opinion, too. But this isn't going to be a corporate acquisition, is it, Spence? She's buying this one herself.”

David looked incredulously at Spencer. “Really?”

“Possibly,” she said defensively.

David looked around the room. “Lot of work.”

Spencer sighed, repeating herself. “It's what we do,” she reminded him.

“How did you happen to be here?” Jared asked him, frowning. “I mean, I know Sly has you watching Spence, but she was with me.”

David hesitated just briefly.

Did Sly mistrust Jared for some reason? Spencer wondered.

But then David answered quickly. “Reva is having a party tonight. My nephew's tenth birthday. She hasn't seen much of Spencer in years, and she was hoping that maybe she wouldn't mind coming by with me. Of course, I know she'd be pleased if you and Cecily could come along, too. With your own kids.”

Spencer and Jared both stared at him.

“How about it, Spence?” David asked softly.

“I…”

“I think Cecily would love it, and I know the kids would,” Jared said. “What time do you want us there?”

“She planned it for seven-thirty. It's a half Cuban, half American household, so that means thirty minutes late is about average,” he said. “Spencer?”

“I—sure,” she said, just a little uncomfortably. Did Reva really want them at her party? Or had David said that because he didn't want Jared to know that he was in some way suspicious of him? “But I need to go back to the office first. I want to let Sandy know I definitely want the house.”

“You think you're really going to move into this place?” David asked her.

“It's…possible. It's just down the street from Sly's,” she said. “And it's not a bad idea to be close to him now.”

David nodded, watching her.

“And she loves the house,” Jared said, his hands on Spencer's shoulders. She felt her body go tense as he touched her. “You okay?” he asked, frowning.

“Fine. Let's go.”

They went down the stairs. There was a lot of the place that she hadn't seen yet, but it didn't matter. She wanted the house. And she also wanted to lock herself in her office, where she could be alone. She couldn't believe she was suspicious of Jared; she had to be mistaken. And she didn't want David noticing that anything was wrong.

Spencer hurried out to her car. Jared swept in beside her. David followed in his car.

Jared talked all through the drive. He'd seen more of the house than she had realized. He had suggestions for turning closets into more spacious baths, and making closets out of the some of the smaller rooms. They were good suggestions, things Montgomery Enterprises would definitely have done with the house. Things she might do herself.

“I'll get an architect out on Monday and close the deal as soon as possible,” Spencer told him.

“
Are
you keeping it for yourself?”

“You don't mind?” she asked him.

“Spencer, I need another house like I need a hole in the head. I have over five thousand square feet and big-time taxes now. And Cecily is big on contemporary pleasures, you know that. I think the house is great for you. Even if it's not business, I want to help you in any way I can.”

He couldn't have meant her harm. Couldn't have meant to send her flying over the railing.

When they reached the freestanding Montgomery Enterprises office on Main, David pulled into the small lot beside Spencer.

“I just need to see Sly for a minute,” he said, joining them as they walked inside. Spencer left him with Jared in the entryway and hurried past Audrey, shutting the door to her office and leaning against it. She stared at her hands. They were shaking.

What if Jared
had
been trying to kill her?

But why would he want to?

She sat behind her desk, then leaned her head on it. Why did
anyone
kill? She'd heard so much from the police about motive. There was almost always a motive for murder. She'd heard it so many times because of Danny. Every time the police questioned her they had apologized and told her how often the wife was the one with a motive when her husband was killed. But Danny's death was different. She had no motive, and plenty of other people did. Someone might have wanted revenge, like Ricky Garcia. And Trey Delia could hardly be considered sane. Almost anyone Danny was investigating might have been afraid of something he knew. Someone might have hated him simply for his love of justice.

And Jared? Why would her cousin hate her?

Even as her thoughts flew, she heard a tapping on her door.

“Spencer?” It was David, and he had already opened the door.

“Spencer, Mr. Delgado isn't big on being announced!” Audrey called from behind him, her annoyance clear. “I'd call security, except that as I understand it, he
is
security.”

Spencer stood and stared at the pair of them.

“I need to talk to you,” David said.

“He won't go away,” Audrey told her.

Spencer lifted an arm in invitation. “Come in, David.”

David gave Audrey a firm glare. She lifted her shoulders and turned up her nose. Spencer smiled at her and shrugged, and Audrey shook her head and left the office. Spencer walked behind her desk, indicating that he could take a chair.

“Taking chances with your life, aren't you, Delgado? I might have been wearing nothing but a towel.”

“The risk didn't seem too great,” he said, glancing over the pictures on her walls, then taking the chair in front of her desk. He leaned forward. “All right. Let's have it. What happened?”

She shook her head. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Something happened. You looked at me as if I were Christ and it was the Second Coming when I walked into that house.”

She shook her head. “Nothing happened. That railing just gave me a moment's unease. I asked you not to go near it, remember?”

He folded his hands in his lap, staring at her. Weighing her words. Disbelieving her. Maybe thinking that he wasn't going to get the truth right now no matter what.

“What did you think of the house?” she asked him.

“It was great,” he said coolly.

“You don't have to be sarcastic.”

He lifted his hands, baffled. “I thought it was a great house. You do need a new railing, but that balcony has a fantastic view. I could see a small sofa of some kind—”

 

“A Victorian?” Spencer suggested.

“Yeah, something like that, maybe a few bookcases. It would be a great place to sit. You can see out to the back from there, as well as the whole living room. It was a great house. Not for everyone. For a lot of people it would just be too much. But for you, it's definitely right.”

Spencer smiled suddenly. “Hmm. I think that's the first approval I've gotten from you on anything.”

He stood up. “You've gotten approval from me on lots of things, Spencer. I've got to go now, though. I have a few things to do. I just came by to see if I can pick you up at your place around seven.”

“You don't have to. I can drive—but then, you'd be following me anyway, right?”

“Right.”

She shrugged. “Pick me up at seven.”

He left her. She wasn't alone, though. When she left the office, Jimmy Larimore was waiting. “Hi, Spencer. How was your day?”

“Pretty good.”

He followed her to the house and parked in front. After she parked her car she went over to talk to him. “Jimmy, am I under some kind of a twenty-four-hour watch now?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much. You might want to take it up with David.”

“I might do just that. Thanks, Jimmy.” She started toward the house, then came back. “So are you off tonight? Do you get to go out and do something fun?”

“I'll be at the party,” he said with a frown. “Reva always asks everyone from the office to her parties.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

He grinned. “I will get to go home for a shower, though, once David shows up.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Spencer went in and took a shower herself. She dressed in jeans, a mauve cotton blouse and sneakers. David showed up at exactly seven, in jeans and a blue polo shirt. He waited for her on the porch.

When she was seated in his car, she found herself studying his terse profile. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were afraid of me.”

He glanced her way. “I
am
afraid of you, Spencer. Terrified.”

She looked straight ahead again. “Sorry. I didn't know that sex once or twice a decade was so wretched.”

“It's damned good sex, Spencer,” he said lightly. He was watching the road as they drove along the tree-and brush-shaded street. The foliage was beautiful, having grown back thickly after Hurricane Andrew. Bougainvillea sprouted along fences in all kinds of colors, purples, oranges, reds. “I just prefer mine with a partner who doesn't cry afterward. And I'm not a kid anymore, Spencer. Not ready to forget the bitter facts of life just to hop into the sack. There are things I'm definitely not looking for. Crying is not what I want.”

“Well, you're not always exactly what I want!” she lashed out, hurt, humiliated. Embarrassed. Wishing she'd never spoken. “You're not—”