Trust No One (12 page)

“Harley Montoya.”

“Harley?” Grace turned around quickly, shocked. “Your next-door neighbor? The man who sold you the house here in Cloud Lake?”

“That Harley.”

Grace smiled, pleased. “That is sort of sweet.”

“Sweet is generally not the first word that comes to mind when people describe Harley.”

T
hey worked on the Speech from Hell until sometime after nine with a break along the way to eat the tofu satay and seaweed salad. Julius decided that tofu and seaweed tasted surprisingly good, at least as long as Grace was sitting on the other side of the table.

“That should do it,” Grace said. She hit save on the computer. “Your audience will love it.”

He studied the notes he had made on the notepad. “I don’t know that anyone will love it, but it certainly won’t be the speech they’ll be expecting from me.”

“There’s nothing like the element of surprise to wake up an audience.” She got to her feet. “I need some exercise. The rain has stopped. Want to go for a walk?”

He looked out the window. “It’s cold out there.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“And dark.”

“The moon is out, there are lamps along the footpath and we can take flashlights for backup.”

A moonlight walk with Grace suddenly sounded like an excellent plan, Julius thought. It would give him an excuse to stick around a little longer, maybe come up with a way to present his grand plan for staying the night in the city at his place.

He felt better already. Maybe there was something to the positive-thinking nonsense.

“You’re right,” he said. “After all that speech writing, I could use some exercise, too.”

She bundled herself up in the jacket that he would always think of as her Little Red Riding Hood coat. He took his leather jacket off the back of the chair and pulled it on. Together they went out onto the back porch. Grace paused to lock the door.

The night air was well chilled. They went down to the water’s edge. He waited to see which way she would go. Turning right was the route into town. It ended at the public marina. Left would take them past his house. Beyond that, at the top of the lake, heavily shrouded in trees and night, was the old asylum.

He was not surprised when Grace chose to walk toward the lights of town. He fell into step beside her. Neither of them spoke for a while but the silence felt comfortable, at least it did to him. Silver moonlight gleamed on the surface of the lake. The low footpath lamps created a string of fairy lights. They did not need the flashlights.

“Thanks for the help with the SFH tonight,” he said after a while.

“You’re welcome. By the way, you owe me twenty bucks.”

“I always pay my debts.”

“Thanks for understanding why I had to buy a new refrigerator.” She paused. “We’re even, right?”

“Even?”

“You know, a favor for a favor.”

“Oh, yeah. Got it.” He came to a halt. “Do you have a problem with owing someone a favor? Or is it just me?”

Grace stopped, too. “Not exactly. Okay. Maybe it’s just you. I’m not sure yet.”

“You’re not making things any more clear.”

“It’s just that I don’t want you to think of me as some kind of hobby,” she said.

He tried to wrap his brain around that. And failed.

“What?” he asked.

“You heard me.” She turned her head slightly to look at him. The hood of the jacket shadowed her face, making it impossible to read her eyes. “I think you’re just bored. I don’t want you to get the idea that involving yourself in my current problems would be an interesting way to . . . distract yourself.”

He stared at her, a slow-burning anger heating his blood.

“That is the dumbest reasoning I’ve ever heard,” he rasped. “No wonder your track record with relationships is so bad.”

“My track record?” Her voice rose in outrage. “You’re the one with a failed marriage behind you and no visible signs of a serious interest in dating since your divorce.”

“Who told you that?” he demanded.

“Irene is my friend, remember? I told her the blind date hadn’t gone well but that I had hired you to consult for me. I think she panicked. She thought I ought to know a little more about you.”

“We’re a real pair, aren’t we?” He gripped her shoulders with both hands. “Just to clarify, I am not getting involved in your problems because I’m looking for a way to distract myself.”

“No? Why, then?”

“Damned if I know.”

He pulled her close and crushed her mouth beneath his own before she could say anything else.

He wasn’t looking for a distraction but he was looking for something, and since he could not put a name to it, he was willing to settle for sex—as long as it was sex with Grace.

As far as he was concerned the kiss had been waiting to happen since she walked through Devlin and Irene’s front door the previous night. But it seemed to catch Grace by surprise. She went still.

For three of the longest seconds of his life he wondered if he had made a terrible mistake by misreading the heat in the atmosphere between them.

But on the fourth beat of his heart he felt a shudder go through Grace’s supple body. She braced her gloved hands against the front of his leather jacket.

And then she was kissing him back. It was a tentative response at first, as if she wasn’t sure it would be a good thing to go down this road with him. He moved his mouth across hers, trying to persuade her that he was worth the risk.

She pressed closer and made a soft, urgent little sound in the back of her throat. In the next moment she was responding with a hungry, sexy energy that sent lightning through him.

He moved his hands from her shoulders down to the front of her coat. He got the garment unfastened and slipped inside, settling his palms on the lush, feminine curve of her hip. He was tight, hard, intensely aroused and intensely aware of everything about Grace. Her scent dazzled him. Her gentle curves made him desperate to touch her more intimately.

No wonder he hadn’t been interested in dating anyone else for so long. He’d been waiting for this woman. He just hadn’t realized it until now.

Grace’s arms moved up to circle his neck. She leaned into him and opened her mouth a little. He was suddenly lost in the sweet, hot, aching need.

The muffled sound of a cell phone ping shattered the crystalline atmosphere. Grace froze. So did he.

“Damn it to hell,” he said softly.

Grace pulled away and took a sharp breath.

They both looked down at the pocket of her jacket. Slowly Grace took out her phone and studied the screen.

“An email from Sprague Witherspoon’s account,” she whispered. “Nyla is not giving up easily.”

“Assuming the crazy emailer is Nyla Witherspoon.” A cold fury splashed through him. “What does it say this time?”

Grace opened the email and read it aloud in a flat, emotionless voice.
“Savor the present because it is all that is certain.”

“One of those damned Witherspoon affirmations?” Julius asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes, but there’s more this time.” There was a faint shiver in Grace’s words now.
“Thirty-nine hours and counting.”

“Sounds like Nyla’s counting down the forty-eight hours she gave you earlier today,” Julius said. “Let me see your phone.”

Grace handed it to him without a word. He studied the email, searching for any clue in the format but to all appearances it had come from Sprague Witherspoon.

“That settles it,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be spending the night with you.”

“What?”

The shock in the single word was not particularly heartening but he told himself that he had handled tougher negotiations.

“Nyla Witherspoon, or someone posing as her dead father, seems to be determined to scare the hell out of you. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone—not at night.”

“Julius, I appreciate the offer,” she said, very earnest now. “But there are some things you don’t know about me. I’m not a sound sleeper,
especially when I’m stressed. And I have problems with nightmares, especially lately. Sometimes I get up and walk around the house in the middle of the night. People find it . . . unsettling.”

“What people?”

“Look, I’d rather not go into the details, all right?”

“Sure. But just so you know, I’m okay with you walking around the house in the middle of the night. I do that, myself, on occasion.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending. “You do?”

“Yes,” he said. “I do. We’ll stop by my place first. I need to pick up a few things.”

She held up a finger. “Just to be clear, if you stay at my house, you’re sleeping in the guest bedroom.”

“Understood.”

He waited but she did not seem to know where to go after that so he took her arm and piloted her back along the footpath.

T
hey walked past her house, past Agnes Gilroy’s place and on around the little cove to Julius’s house.

Julius went up the back porch steps and opened the kitchen door. He flipped on the lights and stood aside, waiting for her to enter first. She got an odd, tingly feeling when she stepped into his kitchen. A deep sense of curiosity infused her senses.

Kitchens were very personal, in her opinion. They said a lot about an individual. This one had a retro vibe. The old appliances, cupboards and tile countertops had been caught in a time warp. But everything, from the old-fashioned gas range and the chrome toaster to the ancient coffeemaker, appeared to be clean, in good repair and ready for action.

A Marine lived here, she thought, biting back a smile. Electrical cords were neatly secured. Canisters were lined up against the backsplash in strict order—short to tall. Even the saltshaker and the pepper mill seemed to be standing at attention. She suspected that Julius’s
office and his condo in Seattle probably radiated the same sense of order and discipline.

“I’ll throw some things in a bag and get my shaving gear,” Julius said. “Wait here. This won’t take long.”

She walked slowly around the kitchen, taking in the feel of the space. Everything whispered Julius’s secret to her—he was a man who had long ago learned to live alone.

He reappeared at the entrance to the kitchen, a black leather duffel in one hand.

“Ready,” he said.

She looked at him. “You really don’t have to babysit me tonight. I mean, it’s very nice of you and I appreciate it but—”

He crossed the distance between them in two long strides and silenced her with a straight-to-the-point, no-nonsense kiss. When he raised his head, his eyes were dark and intent.

“Yes,” he said. “I do have to do this. Think of it as part of the consulting services that you hired me to provide.”

“That’s a stretch. How many times have you spent the night with one of your clients?”

He smiled the slow, wicked smile that made her pulse kick up, but in a good way. Arkwright the Alchemist.

“Every job has unique requirements,” he said. “I try to be flexible and adaptable.”

Neither of them should be thinking about sex, she told herself. But she knew that the subject was burning in the background, a smoldering fire that would flash out of control if she wasn’t very careful. Too soon. Too many unknowns.

They went out onto the back porch. Julius locked up. The back door of the neighboring house banged open as they went down the steps. Harley Montoya’s bald head gleamed in the porch light. He was
wearing a pair of khaki pants and a faded sweater. He moved to the edge of the porch and gripped the railing.

“Thought I heard someone out here,” he roared. “’Evenin’, Grace. What are you two doing? Little late for a stroll around the lake, isn’t it?”

“It’s never too late for a walk around the lake,” Julius said.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Harley said. “Pardon my language, Grace. That’s a duffel bag you’re carryin’, Julius. You two are fixin’ to spend the night together at the Elland house.”

“That’s the plan,” Julius said. “You’ve probably heard by now that someone is stalking Grace.”

“Yep.” Harley peered at Grace. “Agnes told me about the rat in your refrigerator. Some real sick people out there. But don’t worry, Julius will take good care of you.”

“Julius very kindly offered to stay with me tonight so that I won’t have to be alone in the house,” she said.

“It’s gonna be all over town tomorrow, you know,” Harley warned.

Grace opened her mouth to say
He’s going to sleep in the guest bedroom
, but that sounded defensive so she decided to shut up. Harley probably wouldn’t believe it, anyway. Tomorrow morning no one in town would believe it, either.

“I’m planning to put in an alarm system and maybe get a dog,” she said instead.

Harley snorted. “You’ll be fine with Julius. In my experience, he’s about as good as an alarm system and a dog.”

“Thanks,” Julius said. “I’ll treasure your words of high praise.”

“You do that,” Harley said. “Take good care of Grace. See you tomorrow.”

Harley went back inside his house. The door banged shut behind him.

Julius took Grace’s arm. They walked through the garden to the gate that opened onto the path.

Grace glanced around at the lush landscaping. “Is this your work?”

“Of course not,” Julius said. “Harley takes care of my garden and his own.”

They started back toward Grace’s house.

“Harley was right,” Grace said after a moment. “The fact that you spent the night at my place will be all over Cloud Lake by noon tomorrow.”

“Got a problem with that?”

She gave it some thought. “No, I don’t have a problem with it. I’ve got a problem with finding dead rats and bottles of vodka in my refrigerator, and I’ve got a problem with someone sending me creepy emails but, no, I don’t have a problem with you spending the night in my spare bedroom.”

“I like a woman who knows how to keep her priorities straight.”

When they reached her house, Grace pulled some fresh linens out of a closet. Together she and Julius made up the bed in the guest bedroom.

Earlier Julius had tacked up a sheet of plywood to cover the opening left by the smashed pane of glass. The second pane was still in place so the room was not completely shuttered. Grace could see clouds moving across the night sky, obscuring the moon. Another storm was on the way.

Getting the bed ready proved to be an unnervingly intimate process, at least on her side. By the time she had finished stuffing the pillow into the pillowcase she could have sworn that the atmosphere in the room was charged with electricity.

Julius made himself at home with the ease of a stray cat—or a man who was accustomed to living out of a suitcase. She looked at him across the expanse of the freshly made bed.

“The guest bath is just down the hall,” she said, determined to adopt the same casual attitude toward the situation that Julius was exhibiting. “There are some sesame seed crackers if you get hungry.”

“Thanks,” he said.

She went toward the door. “I’ll say good night, then.”

Julius followed her as far as the doorway.

“Good night,” he said.

She hesitated, aware that something more needed to be said. But she did not know how to bring up the subject of the hot kiss in the icy moonlight.

She turned away and went down the hall. She could feel Julius’s eyes on her until she escaped into the relative safety of her bedroom.

She undressed, changed into her nightgown, robe and slippers and went into the master bath to brush her teeth.

When she emerged a short time later the door to Julius’s room stood slightly open but the lights were off. She waited a moment. When she heard no sound from the guest bedroom, she hurried through the ritual of securing the house.

At least it was only a partial ritual that night, she thought. She did not have to check the closets or look under the bed in Julius’s room. Something told her that if there was a monster hiding there, Julius could deal with the problem.

Eventually she turned off the lamps. The night-lights that she had placed strategically throughout the house came up, infusing each space with the exception of Julius’s room with a reassuring glow. Julius must have unplugged the little night-light in his room.

She went back to her room and sat on the edge of the bed for a while, doing her breathing exercises. During the meditation process thoughts always swirled and intruded. The trick was to return the focus again and again to the breath.

When she was finished she crawled under the covers and gazed up
at the shadowy ceiling and brooded on her decision to allow Julius to spend the night in the guest bedroom. One moment she managed to convince herself that there was no harm in letting him stay; the next moment she was forced to conclude that it might not have been one of her brighter ideas. She was violating one of her own rules.

But it was good to know that tonight she would not be alone if the monster came out from the darkness.

In the end she opted to go with a Witherspoon affirmation:
Meet challenges with creativity.
She had no idea what that meant in regard to Julius but it sounded reassuring.

•   •   •

J
ulius stretched out on the bed, his hands folded behind his head, and contemplated the ceiling of the guest bedroom. He thought about how Grace had walked through the house, not only double-checking all the locks that he had secured earlier, but opening and closing cupboards and closets. It all sounded methodical, as if it were a nightly routine.

Some people might have considered the detailed security check a tad obsessive but he understood. The enemy could be anywhere.