Lost in Shadows (Lost) Page 12

  “No, it should be right on top.”

  “It isn’t. It wasn’t last night when I went into the room, looking for you. Our suspects must have gotten it.”

  She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the haze that came with the pain meds enough to think. “I can deal with that, but I want the rest.” She hit the unlock button and flung the door open.

  Jeb dove to catch her arm, pulling his weight from the brake enough that it rolled forward toward her driveway. “I’m not going to let you go in there. You very narrowly missed being killed twice. I can’t take three. You have to give me this.” He turned in the driveway then, parking with the doors even with the walk to the front porch. “Promise me you’ll stay,” he said, not moving until she nodded her agreement.

  Alone in the truck, Carolina studied what she could see. The windows of the kitchen, dining room, and her office were boarded up. So, too, was the back door.

  Her imagination got ahold of things after that. She expected the back of her house was missing, covered only by blue, space-age material that would keep out rain but open her home to a critter convention.

  “Okay, that’s the worst that could be back there. What’s the best?” She talked herself down from panic using the technique Jeb had taught her. “Best is that the back is perfectly normal. Maybe a little touch-up painting needed. Most likely? Most likely there is more plywood on more windows.”

  On a fortifying breath, she left the security of the SUV to inspect her home. She began in the front, where things appeared in well and proper order. The front lawn suffered a few ruts and welts, but nothing that couldn’t be corrected. All the windows were closed, the door, until moments ago, locked.

  The library side of the house was also perfectly normal. There wasn’t a footprint or snapped branch to say anything extraordinary had transpired.

  The back looked like a marshmallow that fell into the fire. All the windows of the kitchen and her office were covered in plywood. The shrubs and vines outside the kitchen were blackened, trampled, soggy, and dead.

  All right. She’d faced it without fainting, vomiting, or crying like a baby. Good. She lifted her chin, proud of herself. What was she going to do now? She needed to contact her insurance company.

  “I thought you were going to wait in the truck.” Jeb stood in the driveway, hands on his hips.

  “I…needed to see.”

  “This is fixable. With your insurance and a good contractor, you’ll be back in here before you know it.”

  She paced the width of the kitchen. “I always wanted a breakfast nook. Something with a lot of glass to bring the morning inside.”

  “Sounds beautiful. Everything you wanted is in the truck. Ready to go?” He held his hand to her and waited patiently.

  “Are you sure you want me in your house?” They had discussed it in the hospital while her paperwork was being processed. He laid out the options. Staying in her temporarily dysfunctional house, going to her uncle’s house, going to a safe house, or going to his house. He explained what security would be going forward and how he intended to proceed with the investigation for each scenario. She’d categorically rejected staying with her uncle. She’d considered staying in her house, but this wasn’t going to be fixed with a little bleach and elbow grease. Jeb preferred working from his house, his territory. He didn’t pressure her but objectively outlined the advantages. He gave her what she needed: control.

  “You’ll have peace and quiet to heal while we figure everything out.” He smiled, enticing her to play. “You’ll get to meet Thomas and Katelyn. You’ll see for yourself that I was right. They’re a couple of boneheads.”

  She had it in her head to turn him down, to say this was too much to ask of a friend of Nate’s, but she’d already put herself in his hands. She needed to move forward. “I’m ready.”

  “Carolina? You out of the hospital already?” Emmaline leaned over her front porch rail; her pitched voice said she definitely did not approve. “I didn’t think they’d release you for at least another day.”

  “I released myself.” She stood a little straighter, making it clear she was having things her way. “They said I need sleep and time to heal. I can do that better out of a hospital.”

  “How bad is it?” Emmaline looked to the house. “It’s not lost, is it?”

  “No,” Carolina said, “but it’s going to take more than lipstick and rouge to make her presentable again.” It would take time and money. Fortunately, she had both and a place to stay in the meantime. “I’m going to Jeb’s house for a few days. If anything else happens, call me. Oh, wait.” She turned to him. “I broke my phone when I threw it. Can you give Emmaline your number?”

  She spent a few more minutes talking with Emmaline, convincing her that the steps she took were her own. Emmaline had been a good and patient friend and deserved answers to her questions. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before long.”

  “If you do worry,” Jeb said, “just call. A good friend is always welcome.”

  “Absolutely.” Carolina walked across the grass, meeting her friend on the sidewalk for a hug. “I’ll call, too.”

  “Don’t worry about calling,” Emmaline said. “Spend your energy healing. Come home soon. This old street is going to be lonely without you.”

  Carolina broke the embrace and turned to Jeb. He represented her future. Her path forward. With one last look at her house, she took that first step.

  Forward. Easier said than done. As the miles raced by under them, Carolina’s emotions grew out of control and worse, she knew it. One minute she wanted to tie the men responsible to a medieval rack and pull them limb from limb. But then, the next minute, she wanted to run away and find a place to curl up in a ball and pretend the world didn’t exist. She worked as a researcher. Give her a computer and she could work from anywhere.

  Then in the third minute, hysteria crept in. “I’m a mess,” she said quietly, fighting off a wave.

  Jeb turned onto a country lane too narrow for his truck to share with anything wider than a bicycle. Farm fields flanked them on both sides with colors that celebrated a prosperous summer and welcomed the rest that winter brought. A black wrought iron fence began at the creek. “This is us on the left.”

  She sat up a little straighter, gawking out the window at the horizon. The house appeared, growing until a mansion-sized country cottage sat in front of them.

  He turned into the driveway and pressed a button to open an automated gate. “We never used to have a gate, but people started showing up all hours of the day and night. After one of them nearly hit my mother, I insisted on the fence and the gate. Turns out it’s easier on everyone. Butch never remembers to lock the door, well, doors.” He gave her a little smile. “How are you feeling? Does your head hurt?”

  She looked at the concern on his face. “My head is all right,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t see through the lie. When he just stared at her, she quickly covered up with a little bit of truth. “I’m tired. I never knew a body could be this tired.”

  He parked the truck in the garage and patted her knee. “We’ll get you settled, and you can take a nap. It’s quiet here.”

  “I’d like a real shower first.” She shoved at her still-dirty hair.

  He pulled open the door to the courtyard and stood aside with a bow. “Welcome to my home.”

  “You think this is a game? Does it look like I’m playing? Dance!”

  Chapter Seven

  A stream of water burst across the courtyard, hitting a tall man in the knees. “Two days,” the little redhead screamed as she nailed the lean man who looked a lot like Jeb. “We haven’t been married for two days and you let her tongue your ear!”

  As though a curtain went up in the middle of a pivotal scene, Carolina’s mind raced to make sense of the situation. The woman stood with an oversized garden hose in a courtyard, with a long-legged puppy bounding about, barking at the water. She had pinned two men to the white-sided building with the water stream
.

  “Come on, Katie,” a second man said, pushing his wet, dark hair out of his eyes. “It was an after party. It wasn’t Butch’s fault.”

  “Traitor,” the redheaded Katie screamed and turned the pounding spray on the second man. “What kind of cousin are you, Tommy? I’m going to disown you.”

  Jeb stepped next to Carolina, laughing softly before shouting to the men. “Clyde, what’d you do?”

  She ignored him and focused on the woman at the center. Katie may have been shouting but her voice quivered precariously on the verge of tears. Carolina could feel them. Her hand went to her heart, rubbing at the ache.

  Katie turned the hose back on her husband. “He flirted with that wench not a day after we’re married. Then he has the nerve to get pissed at me.”

  “I wasn’t flirting, and you poured your drink on her.” Butch held up his hands to fend off another stream of water. “God damn it, Katie, that’s cold.”

  Tommy stepped wide of the water. “It’s not like he asked her to do it. What did you want Butch to do? Make a scene?”

  “Yes! Stand on a soapbox and shout ‘I’m married!’ Tell her that your wife and only your wife gets to do that.”

  Jeb clucked at his brother. “Who?”

  Tommy answered. “Abbey McNeil.”

  Jeb raised his eyebrows. “Oh, well then.”

  Carolina scowled at Jeb. She had no idea who this Abbey McNeil was but his tone said the name made it forgivable. She stepped away from him just as a stream from the hose caught him square in the chest.

  “Kate!” The name exploded from deep within him, menacing, threatening, promising retribution.

  Carolina planted her hands on his wet chest and pushed. “Don’t you dare take his side.”

  Surprise wiped the outrage from his face. “Carolina, you don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand enough. If you think a woman behaving that way to a married man is acceptable then you are not the man I thought you were.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned her back on him.

  “Katie, honey,” Butch said, holding his hands out appealingly. “It didn’t mean anything.”

  “She’s after you, Butch.” Katie’s voice broke but she didn’t back down. “Everyone can see it but you. She dyed her hair red! She has her sights on being the next Mrs. McCormick, and you encourage her.” Her face crumbling with misery, the wet dog pressing to her side, Katie dropped her guard and the hose.

  Pandemonium broke out. The men bolted in three different directions. Jeb had Carolina up in his arms and nearly shoved back into the garage. Butch ran at his wife, willingly taking on the water she used to try to reestablish a perimeter. Tommy ran straight up the middle. He ripped the hose from Katie and would have turned it on her except Butch threw Katie over his shoulder and disappeared through an arched door with her spewing a litany of curses.

  Jeb walked over to shut off the water, Carolina followed. In the middle, Tommy stood, wet and grass-stained, with a plastered grin she was certain would “knock them dead” nightly at the bar scene.

  He bowed regally to her. “Dr. Thomas Riley. At your service.”

  “Clyde, don’t even think about it.” Jeb tucked her under his wet shoulder. “Tom’s not a doctor. Not a real one.”

  “I’m working on my dissertation.” Tom grinned, looking like a fallen angel offering a night of sin. “I’m a structural engineer. I work with forensics. Why bridges fall, why buildings crack, that sort of thing. I’m better than a real doctor because there’s no blood involved. Just concrete, steel, and wood. And you are?”

  “Carolina Walker.”

  “Well, Miss Walker, that’s a mighty nasty bruise on the side of your head. I hope my friend is in no way responsible for it. I’d have to kick his ass.”

  Jeb chuckled and pulled her away from Tom. “Like you could. Come on, Carolina. You should lie down.”

  She looked across the courtyard to the door. “Is Katie going to be all right?”

  “Of course. Butch will grovel and, if he’s lucky, she’ll forgive him without another stunt. He’ll take care of her.” He kept his arm tight, ushering her forward toward a door. “Let me take care of you.”

  She lifted her chin and walked through the door he held open. “I can take care of myself. I just need a place to sleep for a few nights. Who is Clyde?”

  “Clyde was a donkey, an ass you could say. He belonged to our neighbor and was abnormally ornery. One particular day when Butch was being an ass, I got fed up with him and decided to kick his ass. Mama threw us out of the house and told us if we were going to act like Clyde, we could stay outside with him. We got in a fight over who was the bigger Clyde. That was a long, cold night.”

  “So it’s an insult?”

  “More like a term of endearment. Since that day, Butch and I have called each other ‘Clyde.’ Tom’s Clyde enough to join in.”

  “But Katie is not Clyde?”

  He snorted. “I don’t know any man Clyde enough to call Katie ‘Clyde.’ She’s got a mean streak.” His hand, warm and strong on the small of her back, guided her up the stairs. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea from what happened out there. Katie is the best thing that ever happened to Butch. Before I left to see you, I told him he’d be an idiot to screw up his marriage…and a dead man. Abbey McNeil is a tabloid reporter in Nashville with a reputation for stirring up marital problems.”

  She stopped inside the doorway as her brain finally got two and two to equal four. “Butch. Your brother is Butch McCormick?” She had all his albums. His songs of love and longing that had spoken to her heart. “Your brother is the Butch McCormick?”

  He groaned. “Don’t say his name like that around him. As I was saying, there are two ways to deal with people like Abbey. One, you ignore them, completely diminishing their power and influence. Two, you nip them in the bud. Butch is more of a type-one man. He’s a lover, not a fighter. He never has been.”

  She nodded, understanding. “But Katie is. She’s type two.”

  “She prefers nipping her buds with sledgehammers and homemade stink bombs. Butch’ll learn. He’ll never be one to make a scene, but I’m guessing that’s the last time Abbey McNeil will get within arm’s length of him.”

  “I can understand not wanting to make a scene. I’m that type-one person,” she said, holding his cool gray eyes with her own. “But did you see her face? He really hurt her.”

  “They’ll work it out,” he said to end the conversation. “Come on. You can’t overdo it so soon. I’m a bit concerned about that concussion. I know you want a shower, but a bath would be a better idea.”

  …

  Jeb had set out soap, shampoo, and conditioner, laid out extra towels, and folded his robe on the vanity. He had started the water, checking the temperature until it was warm enough to heal, cool enough not to scald. She stood aside, her arms crossed under her breasts, her eyes half open.

  “Maybe a bath isn’t the best idea. You look like you’re falling asleep on your feet.” His heart seized at the thought of her drowning in his bathtub. He turned off the water. “Maybe a shower is a better idea.”

  “I’m fine, Jeb, just really tired all of a sudden. A quick bath and a nap, and I’ll be good as new. Which room should I use?”

  “Mine, of course. This side of the house is gonna be quiet. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can’t take your bed.”

  “You aren’t taking, I’m giving. Besides, I don’t have any others to offer.”

  “But…all those rooms?”

  “Plywood and studs. No offense but you aren’t in any shape for camping out. Take the bed. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re sleeping better. I’m going to get your stuff from the truck. Do not fall asleep in that tub.” He left before she had a chance to argue.

  He brought up the bags and boxes from her house. Her clothing went in his room and everything else in another. It all smelled like smoke. He’d deal with it later. He set
his computer up in the living room and started work with a quick phone call.

  “Finch, any word from the lab?”

  “Expecting miracles?” Finch chuckled quietly. “They’ve had the bottles for only a few hours. You know how long this type of testing can take.”

  “You said our lab was going to be fast.”

  “If they were in a police lab they’d still be rotting away, waiting on red tape and backlog. They’re in good hands now. You got anything new?”

  He laid out Derrick Jenkins’s role and the missing contracts. “I’m going to start with the three active files. I’ll need to get into the work she did and see what might attract attention. I am sure they were going for her laptop.”

  “But the files are lost?”

  “Carolina used cloud storage. We have what they have.”

  “What will they do when they realize it?”

  He took a deep breath. If they were after the information, the threat to Carolina could be over. If they were after the source of the information, she would still be in their sights. He was glad, again, to be on his home field. “I need to start with ‘why’. Once I know that, we’ll be better positioned to anticipate and counter their next move.”

  “The lab has orders to call you ASAP. Let me know what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Finch.” He ended the call and walked down the hallway to his bedroom door. He had left it ajar, now it was closed. He knocked with one knuckle.

  “Jeb?”

  His name. He took it as an invitation and opened the door. She lay in his bed, her hair fanned out across his pillow. “Feeling better?”

  “Feel like I can sleep for three days.” She wrinkled her nose. “I still smell smoky.”

  “It’s probably the clothes. I’ll take them down and wash them. Here.” He pulled out several shirts and sweat pants from his dresser, setting them on top. His mind wandered, wondering what she wore under his blankets. Curiosity toyed with him, lust tightening his muscles. He blew out a breath, putting the image away. She didn’t need to deal with him on top of everything else. “They’ll be big but will cover you until these are clean.”