Lost in Shadows (Lost) Read online

  “I just came by to see if Carolina had finished going through the house yet.” Her uncle’s sharp gaze rested on her. “Anything missing beyond the food?”

  Carolina pressed her fingertips to her forehead, closing her eyes to the thought of what was upstairs. She hadn’t been beyond the first floor rooms. “Let’s go look now.”

  The little troop paraded through the hallway, foyer, and up the staircase. The utilitarian spaces were untouched, masking that a group of madmen had been running amok. Upstairs was a different story.

  Carolina gasped and stopped abruptly in her bedroom doorway, dumbfounded. “Oh my God. My…my…” As if a child played in a pile of leaves, her clothes were everywhere. Drawers were turned out. The closet empty.

  “Son of a bitch.” Jeb’s curse was in her ear.

  She swallowed hard against the dirty, greasy feeling coating her skin. A case of soap and a year of showering couldn’t remove the feeling that the…the…the bastards who had violated her home were violating her body. She staggered away, knocking into Jeb. His arm came around her waist, steadying her.

  “Step aside, boyfriend.” Mitch wedged his way between Carolina and Jeb, shepherding her into the room. “We’ve photographed the room, Carolina, but I need you to tell me if anything is missing. Where did you keep your jewelry?”

  “Do. Not did. I still live here. It’s still my house.” She swallowed hard, wondering if she’d be able to close her eyes in the room again.

  “Absolutely. There’s time for this later.” Jeb stepped behind her, saying without words that he had her back.

  “You see this, boy.” Her uncle drew out the “boy” as he tapped the badge on his chest. “This says I’m the one who says what it’s time for and what it isn’t.”

  She turned and planted her hands on Jeb’s chest, backing him away from her uncle. She was right, he was absolutely cut from the same cloth as Nate. She backed him into a corner and kept him there with a look her mother taught her. She turned away then, and slowly walked the room’s perimeter. She looked for the familiar patterns of her bedroom. This was her talent—seeing sequences, noticing the odd man out. The décor on her dresser. The colors in her closet. The books on her little shelf. “It’s all here. Scattered and broken but it’s all here. Let’s go to my office.” She gave her own order before her uncle could issue another of his own, one that would likely escalate the testosterone in the room.

  She stopped a few paces short of the door, her resolve failing her. If her bedroom was home to her personal life, her office was the same for her professional life.

  Large hands cupped her shoulders and turned her until Jeb’s face filled her vision. “What’s the worst thing that could have happened?”

  “The worst? Um. They could have urinated on my furniture and carpet, and written creepy messages on the walls in pig’s blood.”

  Emmaline clucked behind her. “Really, Carolina. What do you watch at night?”

  A shadow of a smile came over Jeb’s lips. “What’s the best thing that have could have happened?”

  “The best?” Carolina smiled, the tension melting away like ice in July. “They could have moved the file cabinet to the corner, fluffed the carpet up where it was pressed down, and gotten the coffee stain out by my desk. And…” she said, when he was about to answer, “they could have put those little butterfly decals on the wall.”

  “What is the point of this?” her uncle growled from behind.

  Carolina ignored him, choosing to see only Jeb.

  “Now, what’s likely to be behind the door?”

  She worried her abused lip, startled when he soothed it with his thumb. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and her skin tingled as if he’d touched more than her lip. Her pulse quickened and, for a moment, she flashed to the panic that had her heart racing the night before. Then he pulled away. The panic subsided…but the butterflies stayed. She pressed her fingers to her mouth, wanting to hold onto the feeling as it faded. “Well, based on the bedroom and the kitchen, there’s likely to be a mess. A mess with little actual damage. A few things may be broken.”

  “Anything you can’t handle?” His gray eyes held hers, gave her strength.

  “No…unless they didn’t take off their shoes. It is good carpet.” She smiled bravely and was rewarded when he laughed out loud. “Open the door, Uncle Mitch.”

  With Jeb at her shoulder, Carolina entered the room.

  His hand wrapped around hers and squeezed. “Just like you thought.”

  Instead of clothing, this room had paper strewn everywhere. Her six-foot-tall file cabinet had the bottom drawer pulled out as far as it would go. Empty. Without question, the other drawers were empty, too. “Really, somebody has issues.”

  Shaking her head, she walked out of the room. The first order of business would be collecting and sorting the files. No, she’d rearrange the room first. Maybe get that scanner she’d considered and eliminate the paper altogether.

  Jeb caught up as she walked down the stairs. “This may sound out of line, but I’m proud of you.”

  She stopped two steps from the bottom. “Why?”

  “Your office. You handled it. Did you see the look on your uncle’s face when you walked out?” he asked.

  “No.” She had focused on what needed to be done. “How did he look?”

  “Shocked. Ready to get back to work?”

  “I am.”

  It was slower going than she hoped, but as the clock put an end to the day, she felt a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. Jeb and Emmaline worked tirelessly, performing any and every chore she asked of them. She pushed aside the thought of her uncle sitting in her father’s office. It wasn’t that she doubted he was working on her case, it was that she knew he was avoiding anything to do with a mop, vacuum, or soap. She chose to focus on the good. She liked Jeb’s company and appreciated Emmaline’s off-tune, nonstop rendition of the top country songs of the last decade. She hadn’t thought Jeb liked the singing, but she caught him smiling a time or two, and he laughed out loud at a song originally performed by Butch McCormick.

  “Enough,” Carolina said when the stainless steel sparkled. “Emmaline, we are finished for tonight.”

  Emmaline stretched, her hand going to her back and nodded her agreement. “I’ll come back in the morning and help you finish. Don’t think about arguing with your elder.”

  She wrapped her arms around her mother’s best friend. “What would I do without you?”

  Emmaline held her tightly, conveying the worrying she hadn’t let show. “Let’s not find out. Make sure you eat. You’re already too skinny.”

  She closed the door behind Emmaline and turned to the spotless kitchen. Her stomach growled. She quieted the rumbling with a press of her hand, wondering if Jeb’s stomach was just as empty. With a little creativity and a little luck, she could fix that.

  Carolina carried the tray to where Jeb worked in the library, smiling because she wanted to smile. Just maybe, she’d found the silver lining. “Take a break with me.”

  He moved a stack of books to the bookshelf, making a clear spot on the table. “Great.”

  “Well, don’t get your hopes up. Mother Hubbard’s cupboard was bare enough before, well, before.” She laid out a white dish towel and set down the lone two surviving china plates with their treats. “We have the finest in culinary delicacies. String cheese that I unwrapped myself. Mostly whole crackers that were still in the box. Apple slices from the unbruised side. And, the pièce de résistance, tap water imported from right here in Bowling Green, Kentucky.”

  “Yum,” he said in his deadpan voice.

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “Bon appétit.”

  He chewed thoughtfully. “I’m sorry about your mother’s china.”

  She bit into a cracker, apple, and cheese stack, and waved her hand dismissively. The vandals had been very thorough in the dining room, shattering the china displayed on the lighted shelving. It was all stuff, she told herself. Stuff coul
d be replaced.

  He caught the hand and squeezed it.

  “Seriously, Carolina. I understand family legacy. My brother and I built our home around our family’s farmhouse. We grew up in that house. It’s the only home I’ve ever had.”

  She was growing accustomed to his little gestures. The small squeeze and soft touches made her feel…not so alone. Instead of thinking about it, she sighed, acknowledging the “stuff” had sentimental value. “I salvaged a few pieces. Enough that I can have a nice meal and remember my mother. Besides,” she said with a little smile and a saucy shift of her shoulders, “I’m not going to get married. Nate’s going to have a flood of kids, and I’m going to be the world’s best aunt. I’m going to spoil his kids and drive his wife crazy. They can have the dinner parties on their own china.”

  “I like parties on paper plates. Easy cleanup.” He offered her a cracker. “Why did Emmaline have your car? Doesn’t she have one of her own?”

  “She was in a fender bender and her car is in the body shop. I let her borrow mine a few days ago to save the expense of renting. I don’t use mine very often and, well, I forgot she had it.”

  “She thought the window might have been broken at her aerobics class.”

  “She does a Rumba Tumba class on Fridays. The parking lot isn’t well lit, but I’ve never heard of a problem. A woman from the class, her friend Mary, had hip replacement surgery this week. She lives alone so the class had been taking turns staying with her this week. They surprised her with a get-well potluck dinner tonight.”

  “Rumba Tumba?”

  “Picture Latin dancing on steroids. Strong, illegal steroids.”

  He frowned. “Are all the women Emmaline’s age?”

  “No. Some are older. Most are bigger. They wear leotards and little sarongs.” She burst out laughing at his strangled expression.

  He shook his head to clear the mental picture. “That’s just mean.”

  “So, what’s your story? I know you were in the army with Nate and that he asked you to come here. What about in between?”

  “Nate and I were in the same unit for two years before he was promoted. He was…he was a good man to have at your back. I joined the sheriff’s department when I came home and then ran for the post when the sheriff retired. Did that for five years or so. Last spring, the opportunity came up to start Chameleon Security.” He shrugged off the unspoken. “So here I am.”

  “I assume it’s like safety security and not like securities and exchange commission.”

  He smiled wryly. “Do I look like a banker?”

  She measured his broad chest and bulging arms and had her answer. “You look like the kind that specializes in damsels in distress.”

  “Damsels, dudes, dignitaries. No client’s too big, no client’s too small.”

  “What did Nate hire you to do?”

  “He didn’t hire me, let’s get that straight. He asked me to look into the break-in and tighten up your security.”

  She fully supported his investigating the break-in and tightening up her security but not paying for it felt wrong. As much as she felt it was her responsibility to be charitable to others, accepting charity made her feel in debt. Walkers always paid their own way. “I would rather—”

  “Carolina, it’s nearly midnight.” Without warning, Mitch filled the doorway, hands on his hips, scowl on his face. “Come home with me tonight, and we’ll work more tomorrow.”

  She bit her tongue. Her uncle hadn’t cleaned one square inch in the hours he’d been there. She put another cracker in Jeb’s mouth. “No thanks, Uncle Mitch. I’m staying in my home.”

  The edges of Mitch’s mouth sagged lower. “If you insist, then I’ll stay with you.” He slid his attention to Jeb. “Take a hike, boyfriend. I’ve dealt with men like you my entire life. You may be good in a fight, but there is no place for you in Carolina’s life. My brother is gone; that makes me the man who says you’re not good enough. Get your shit and get out.”

  She hadn’t given a thought to where Jeb would stay the night. Concentrating so much on putting the house back in order, it didn’t occur to her he would leave. She didn’t know how to respond to her uncle. If Jeb were her boyfriend, would she insist he stay? But he wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t even a friend.

  Jeb didn’t retreat from the waves of animosity radiating from her uncle. She was sure he would tell Mitch to flip off, he would stand his ground with her, and relief swamped her. It was unexpected, and she’d have to examine why she wanted Nate’s friend in her house.

  But he dropped his chin, giving in to her uncle.

  Her stomach plunged. “No. Jeb. You don’t have to leave, not like he said.”

  His head came back up, his gaze tender. “It’s all right.”

  “It’s not all right.” She clutched at his hand. “It’s not.”

  He squeezed her hand, then let go. He took another slice of apple and walked past the sheriff.

  “That’s what I thought.” Mitch followed him to the front door. He walked with his chest out, arms wide and boxing Carolina out.

  “I don’t want you to go.” She called out as Jeb stepped over the threshold. He looked over his shoulder and winked.

  “Take the hint, and don’t come back.” Mitch slammed the door after Jeb walked through. He turned back to her, satisfied with a job well done. “I think that’s enough excitement for one night, don’t you?”

  “Why, Uncle Mitch?” She clenched her hands into tight fists. “Why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know who he is, but he isn’t welcome here.”

  “I say he is.” She put her foot down physically and metaphorically.

  His eyes widened. It may have been the first time she’d talked back to him. Hands on his hips, he pitched forward, eyes narrowing. “Carolina, what does he do for a living?”

  She backpedaled, physically and intellectually. “I…I don’t, I, uh, I think he’s…” Good lord, she was bad at this.

  He held up his hand, stopping her yammering. “You’re a good girl. A nice girl. And a girl with money. Yes, he served with Nate, but that just isn’t enough. These men find women like you, live off of them until the next good thing comes along.”

  “He…he doesn’t know about the money.”

  “He served with Nate. He knew about the money before he knew your name.” His voice was low and soft with pity.

  Nate had sent Jeb, which made him above reproach. He’d mopped her floor and stacked her books and swept up the china when she couldn’t. “You’re wrong. You are wrong.” Carolina opened the front door. “Good night, Uncle Mitch.”

  Her resolve didn’t falter. Eventually, Mitch retrieved his hat and gear from her daddy’s desk and stepped over the threshold.

  “You and your momma, you were the sunshine in my brother’s life. He wanted to give you the world on a platter. I know I’m not your father, but I want the same.” He pulled her in for an awkward hug. “I’ll be back in the morning to check on you. Turn on the security system.” He put on his hat and walked down the steps of the house he’d grown up in.

  Carolina closed the door and locked it. Men were baffling. Someone should write a book that translated their behavior into common sense. She put the rest of the house to bed and walked with heavy steps to her bedroom.

  The room had been picked up, but she doubted it would ever be clean again. She cuddled the framed picture of herself and Nate to her chest, broken glass and all. “I wish you were here.” She set it on the end table and searched her room for comfort. This room that had been her refuge now felt like a prison. She opened her window, slid the screen up and leaned out into the cool night, wondering for the thousandth time what she had done to bring this on…

  Lost in thought, lost in grief, she didn’t see the hand that came from the shadows.

  Chapter Three

  Jeb leaped from the trellis to the open window. He moved quickly to prevent himself from falling and to cover Carolina’s mouth before her
scream brought her uncle running, gun drawn. He fell in with more luck than grace and landed with her beneath him. “It’s me, Carolina. It’s me, Jeb.”

  She scowled, waiting for him to remove his hand. “You scared the life out of me. What were you doing?”

  “You didn’t think I would leave, did you?” His body hardened as he became aware of the soft curves trapped beneath him. He hastily lifted his weight off her before he embarrassed them both. Deftly, he rolled to the balls of his feet, took her hands, and pulled her up.

  “Of course I did. Couldn’t you have given me a signal or something?”

  He tightened his fist to discipline the fingers that wanted to feel the silk of her hair once again. Throughout the night, he wanted to touch her. He knew she was struggling with the trauma of the crime, and he wanted to show someone cared. Tucking her thick hair behind one ear, he fell into the liquid pools of her eyes. “I didn’t want to tip off your uncle. He might try to arrest me, and then we’d have a whole big thing.” He smiled, inviting her to join in the conspiracy.

  She spun away, fists clenched. “He thinks I’m some shut-in. He pushes and bosses until I can’t take it anymore.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s my house. I say who stays and who goes.”

  He loved the way her hair moved. The toss over her shoulder was incredibly sexy. At the bite in her voice, he held up his hands, palms out in surrender. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m the guy you almost shot.”

  She pulled back abruptly. “I just wanted you out of my house.”

  He grinned at her. “Not much of a shot, right?”

  She thumbed him to a case on the wall with years’ worth of blue ribbons. “I hit what I aim for.” Her brows suddenly pressed together and her lips pursed. “Your shirt’s ripped. There’s blood on you.”

  “It’s just a scratch. Nicked myself on the climb up.”

  “I want to see it.”

  He shrugged it off. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll clean up later.”

  Her swift intake of breath told him he’d made a mistake. She spoke through tight lips. “All this time you’ve been babying me, cleaning my house, arguing with my uncle, the least you can do is let me take care of one small, insignificant scratch.”