Читать онлайн книгу «Natural-Born Protector» автора Carla Cassidy

Natural-Born Protector
Carla Cassidy


Natural-Born
Protector
Carla Cassidy


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u2b22b8da-ab03-5802-8e9c-519d08d06d3c)
Title Page (#ueabc018a-7c42-5c87-b16d-d030bac022e4)
About The Author (#uf02bb1da-e77e-57c4-8f14-4ac5d5dd780b)
Prologue (#ulink_50fbf326-492e-5d1f-9e12-9046161401f6)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Carla Cassidy is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty books. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from Romantic Times BOOKreviews. In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from Romantic Times BOOKreviews.
Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Prologue (#ulink_17df2935-1358-5e01-97ab-15eb4b51fd0d)
Hank Tyler sat in the chair opposite Dalton West, waiting for his old friend to make a decision about hiring him for the family business, Wild West Protective Services.
Hank had been back in his hometown, the small Oklahoma town of Cotter Creek, for the past four months, trying to decide what he wanted to do with the shambles of his life.
He hadn’t just been floundering for the past four months, but rather for almost the last two years. His ranch in Texas had become a hotbed of memories too painful to endure, so despite the protests of his little daughter, he’d sold his spread and had moved himself and his daughter here to Cotter Creek for a new beginning.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Dalton asked. “You realize that working for us as a bodyguard would mean you’d have to be available for travel—sometimes for weeks at a time.”
“I realize that,” Hank replied.
“And that won’t be a problem with you as a single parent?”
“Not at all. My mother lives in a town house in the same building as mine. She’ll be available to take care of Maddie whenever I’m away.”
“I understand there’s been some drama where you live,” Dalton replied.
Hank nodded. “The woman across the hall was just murdered. Lainie Thompson—did you know her?” A knot of emotion balled up in Hank’s chest as he thought of the neighbor who had become a close friend in a remarkably short time. Lainie’s death was a deciding factor in Hank’s decision to join Wild West Protective Services.
“Everyone knew Lainie,” Dalton said, nodding. “She was a troubled woman.” He leaned back in his desk chair and eyed Hank for a long moment. “I could definitely use you. Even though your military training was a long time ago, I’ve seen you at the shooting range and know you’re well qualified. You’re obviously in tip-top physical shape.”
Dalton frowned thoughtfully, then continued. “These bodyguard gigs pay very well, but this isn’t like working a nine-to-five job with a steady paycheck. In fact, I’ve got nothing for you at the present time.”
“If you’re worried about my finances, then don’t,” Hank replied. “Selling the ranch in Texas left me what some would consider a wealthy man. I’ll be fine until something comes up.”
Dalton stood and held out a hand to Hank. “Then welcome to Wild West Protective Services.”
Hank rose and grasped Dalton’s hand in a firm shake, knowing that he had just irrevocably changed his life.

Chapter One (#u4d8f4dbe-1ba6-5d4b-a686-6f4c67c2bf4b)
The man was in Lainie’s bathroom, cleaning up blood from the tiled floor. Melody Thompson dropped her suitcase, stifled a scream and stumbled backward.
The stranger turned around, his handsome features registering surprise. “Wait…it’s okay,” he exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet. “I won’t hurt you.”
He was clad in only a pair of navy athletic shorts that rode low on his lean hips. And his hips were the only lean thing about him. His shoulders were broad, his chest tautly muscled, and his long legs had the athletic appearance of a man who probably jogged.
These first impressions flew through Melody’s head as her body tensed with fight-or-flight energy. “Who are you?” she demanded as she backed down the hallway toward the front door.
He followed her at a nonthreatening distance as he wiped his hands on a towel. “I’m Hank Tyler.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a key ring with a single key dangling from it. “I live in the town house next door. Lainie and I were good friends. She gave me a key a couple of months ago.”
The fear that had momentarily gripped her eased a bit. He did have a key and it was obvious by the fit of his jogging shorts that he was carrying no weapon.
“What are you doing in here?” she demanded. It was easy for her to translate good friends. Lainie didn’t have male friends, but she’d always had plenty of lovers. There was no way she’d have been able to pass up this dark-haired, blue-eyed model of masculinity.
“I knew the sheriff released this place this morning and eventually somebody from the family would come in. I thought it would be easier if the…uh…mess was cleaned up.”
The mess. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what he was talking about. The mess was her sister’s blood. A wave of grief struck her, nearly buckling her knees.
“You’re Melody, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Lainie talks about you all the time.” He frowned, as if aware that he’d used present tense for somebody whose words would now forever be past tense. “Did you just get in from Chicago?” he asked.
“No, I’ve been here since Tuesday. I’ve been staying with my mother since then.”
He took a step back from her. “Look, if you’ll give me just a minute or two, I’ll finish up and get out of your hair.”
Before she could reply, he turned and disappeared back into the bathroom. Melody stared at the air where he’d stood, trying to decide if she felt threatened by his presence in the town house or not. She decided she didn’t, at least not for the moment, and sank down on the sofa.
Over the past four days, since the police had shown up at the school where she taught in Chicago to tell her that her sister had been murdered, her life had taken on a bizarre quality that hadn’t ended. The fact that an unfamiliar, attractive man was scrubbing her sister’s bathroom floor was as crazy as it got.
The sheriff had called her mother that morning to let her know he was releasing the condo and that the investigation into Lainie’s death had so far yielded no substantive clues.
Melody wasn’t surprised. Sheriff Jim Ramsey was a lazy, judgmental man who had probably decided that the investigation into Lainie’s death wasn’t worth any real effort. Melody hadn’t even bothered checking in with him when she’d arrived in town.
What she knew about her sister’s murder she’d learned from her mother. Rita Thompson had told Melody that Lainie had been killed in her bathroom sometime between the hours of eleven at night and two in the morning.
There had been no signs of forced entry and she’d been beaten to death with an unknown object. A maid who came in once a week had found her body. Nothing had been stolen, so robbery had been ruled out as a motive.
If I’d just answered the phone, Melody thought. The evening of the murder, Lainie had called Melody. But Melody had been tired, not in the mood to talk, so she’d let her answering machine pick up the call.
She couldn’t help but think that if she’d just answered her phone, the events of that horrible night might have turned out differently. She closed her eyes and the sound of Lainie’s message played in her head.
“Hi, sis. Just wanted to check in. Are you there? Well, anyway, I’m really excited. I’ve got a date with a new guy tonight and who knows, he might just be the one.” Lainie had sounded upbeat and happy, and how Melody wished she’d answered that call. She hadn’t known that it would be the last time she’d hear her sister’s voice.
She jumped to her feet as Hank came back into the room, an empty pail in his hand and the scent of pine cleaner in the air. “I think I got up all the fingerprint dust and everything else,” he finished with a touch of awkwardness.
“You didn’t have to do that for us,” she said. Yet, as she thought of the horrible task he’d just completed, a wave of gratefulness swept over her.
“I did it for Lainie. She wouldn’t have wanted you to have to face that.” He walked toward the door. “I guess I’ll see you this afternoon at the funeral.” His blue eyes darkened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
The words should have sounded like the empty platitude spoken at funerals by sympathetic strangers or distant relatives. But, as he spoke, his startling blue eyes filled with darkness and she sensed the true emotion behind the words. He didn’t wait for her to reply. With a small nod of his head, he walked out.
She closed the door after him and locked it, then once again slumped on the sofa. She still hadn’t processed that her wild, crazy older sister was truly gone.
The real grief had yet to strike, but the guilt that gripped her was nearly paralyzing. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, remembering the last time she’d seen her sister.
“Don’t go,” Lainie had said, her lower lip in the infamous pout that had so often gotten her whatever she wanted.
The two were in Melody’s bedroom at their mother’s home, where Melody had spent most of the day packing up boxes to take with her to Chicago. “I have to go,” Melody had replied. “It’s a great opportunity and there aren’t any teaching jobs available here in Cotter Creek right now.”
“You just want to get away from me,” Lainie had exclaimed. She’d scooted across the bed and grabbed Melody’s hand. “I know you’re tired of cleaning up my messes. I know that I’m an emotional vampire, but I promise I’ll do better. I swear I’m going to get it together. Melody, what am I going to do when night falls and I get scared? You can’t go.”
But Melody had left, and now somebody had murdered Lainie. And she couldn’t help but feel that if she hadn’t left town her sister would still be alive.
She swallowed against the thick emotion that was like a granite weight in her chest. Glancing at her wristwatch, she realized that the funeral was a mere two hours away.
Wearily, she pulled herself up from the sofa. Lainie had bought the town house five months ago, finally moving out of their mother’s home where she’d lived on and off again whenever she was between boyfriends. This building had originally been an old five-story apartment building that had been updated and renovated into town homes for sale.
Lainie had been proud to be a homeowner, although twice in the last four months Melody had sent her sister money to help pay the mortgage and Melody suspected her mother had made at least that many payments and helped with utilities. Lainie had gone through money like she’d gone through men.
The living room was a reflection of Lainie’s personality, an explosion of colors and whimsical knickknacks that had probably all been impulse buys. Melody frowned slightly as she gazed at one wall where wild, crazy flowers had been hand-painted. The wall would have to be repainted before the condo was put up for resale.
The slightly chaotic flavor of the living room spilled into the master bedroom, so evocative of Lainie that it brought tears to Melody’s eyes.
The spare bedroom held only a bare double bed and a dresser. It was here that Melody placed her suitcase. It took her just minutes to make up the bed with clean linens she found in the hall closet.
After making the bed she hung the clothes from her suitcase, put her nightclothes and underwear in a dresser drawer and her toiletries on top of the dresser.
Her mother had been appalled when Melody had announced her intention to stay in the condo. Her mother saw it as nothing but a place of death, but to Melody it was also the place filled with Lainie’s life.
Besides, she’d been sleeping on the sofa at her mother’s place. All the spare bedrooms were taken up with relatives who’d come into town for the funeral. It might have seemed morbid to some people, but Melody just felt like she needed to be here.
She had to pack up Lainie’s things and get the place ready to put back on the market—and she was hoping that someplace within these walls would be the answer to who might have killed Lainie and why.
And that was the other reason Melody wanted to stay there. Her mother would be upset if she knew Melody intended to do a little investigating on her own.
To most of the people in the small town of Cotter Creek, Lainie had been a throwaway, a wild, bad girl whom everyone expected to come to a bad end.
But to Melody, Lainie had been the sister who had taught her how to laugh, who had introduced her to a world that others didn’t see. Lainie had been five years older than Melody, but she’d had the exuberance of a child and a child’s fear of the dark. She’d been incredibly dependent on Melody for as long as Melody could remember. The roles of older sister/younger sister had been reversed long ago.
Yes, Lainie had made bad choices. She’d been impulsive and immature, but she’d also been loving and bright and hadn’t deserved to die at the young age of thirty.
Melody had spent most of her life taking care of her sister and she wasn’t about to stop now. Instinctively she knew that the powers that be in this small town wouldn’t knock themselves out to solve the murder of a woman like Lainie. But she would.
She thought of the handsome man who had cleaned up the bathroom and she wondered how close her sister had been to him. Had they been in love? Was he aching with her loss as much as Melody was?
She walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. This room looked the least used in the place, which wasn’t surprising since Lainie had never been much of a cook.
If Melody intended to stay, she needed to buy groceries and see what kind of cooking utensils Lainie had owned. Sure, it would have been much easier to just camp out at her mother’s, but that wouldn’t do.
Melody needed to be here. School was out for the summer and she didn’t have to be back in Chicago for two months. She would use that time to immerse herself in Lainie’s surroundings and hopefully ferret out a killer.
Hank gazed around at the people attending Lainie’s funeral, surprised at who was missing and also surprised by some of those who had shown up.
He knew Lainie had been seeing a man named Dean, a tough guy who rode a motorcycle and worked as a mechanic down at Hall’s Car Haven. Dean was absent from the solemn ceremony, as were all the men Lainie had dated over the last four months of her life.
Grace and Mabel Talbot stood side by side, their gray heads close together as they whispered to each other. The two widowed sisters were responsible for most of the gossip that made the rounds in Cotter Creek. They gave slander a new meaning as they chewed up and spit out anyone who didn’t live up to their particular moral standards.
Hank stood beneath the shade of an old oak tree and gazed across the flower-laden closed casket to where Lainie’s mother, Rita, leaned weakly against Fred Morrison, the man who had been her companion for years.
They made an attractive couple. Even with grief etched deep into her features, Rita was a pretty older woman. Fred, clad in a black suit and carrying his ever-present silver cane, held her tightly.
But it was the woman standing slightly apart from them who captured Hank’s attention. Melody looked so alone in her grief.
She wasn’t as striking as her sister had been, but there was a quiet beauty in her delicate features. Her dark hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck and her blue eyes were without tears but filled with the kind of pain Hank knew only too well. He was well acquainted with loss and the kind of pain that was so deep it went beyond tears.
Once again he gazed around. He’d heard that killers often attended the funerals of their victims, but he saw nobody he’d believe capable of the violent rage that had propelled Lainie’s killer.
The ceremony was blessedly brief and when it was over, Melody walked over to Hank. “Thank you for coming,” she said.
“I told you, Lainie was a good friend of mine. I’m going to miss her.” His sense of loss at Lainie’s death was nothing compared to that of his daughter, Maddie, who had positively adored Lainie.
“Some of us are going to my mother’s house. You’re welcome to join us there.” Her lower lip trembled slightly and the impulse struck him to reach out and take her in his arms, offer her comfort. It shocked him, for it had been a very long time since he’d wanted to take a woman in his arms for any reason.
He glanced at his wristwatch, even though he had nothing to do, nowhere to be. “Thanks, maybe I’ll stop by for a little while.”
Melody looked at him for a long moment, her thickly fringed blue eyes holding open curiosity. “You’ve told me you were close to Lainie. I’d like to speak with you about her later…in the next day or two.”
If she was looking for answers about the tragedy of Lainie’s death, he had few to give her. But he knew about the need to speak of the dead, something many people just didn’t understand.
“Anytime.” He flashed her a quick smile. “You know where to find me.” She nodded and hurried after her mother and Fred, who were walking toward his car.
It took only minutes to reach the Thompson house, where a number of cars were already parked and several people were milling around on the front porch.
When he entered the house, the first person he saw was Melody, who was standing next to her mother and Fred to greet people as they came through the door.
Hank had met both Rita and Fred before. Once when he and Lainie had met them for lunch at a restaurant and then another time when Lainie’s car had broken down and Hank had driven her here.
“Hank, thank you for coming.” Rita reached for his hands and squeezed them tightly. “I’m not sure how to live without worrying about Lainie.” A choking sob escaped her as she dropped Hank’s hands.
Fred, leaning heavily on his cane, reached out and placed an arm around Rita’s shoulder. “She’s at peace now, honey,” he said. “You have to know that Lainie is finally at peace.”
Rita nodded and for a moment an awkward silence prevailed. “How about a tall glass of iced tea?” Melody said to Hank, breaking the silence.
“That sounds great,” he agreed. He followed her through the living room and into the country kitchen where the table was laden with food.
“Help yourself to anything you want,” Melody said, gesturing toward the table.
He watched as she opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of iced tea. The scent of her eddied in the air, a floral fragrance he found incredibly attractive. The black-and-white dress she wore emphasized her slender waist and the thrust of her breasts. Her legs were shapely, and a sudden stab of desire struck him.
The time and place was inappropriate for such a feeling but even more shocking was that he felt it at all. Maybe his sorrow at losing Lainie had somehow manufactured some crazy feelings for her sister.
The last thing he wanted was to feel desire for any woman. At least Melody was relatively safe. She’d be out of town before he knew it, back to her own life in Chicago.
He took the glass she held out to him. “Where are you from, Hank?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing you around town before I moved to Chicago.”
“Actually, I’m originally from Cotter Creek. Lainie and I were in the same grade from kindergarten to seventh grade. Then my parents moved to Texas. My mom moved back after my dad died.”
“I think I remember your family. What brought you back here?” she asked.
“I’m a single parent. I have an eight-year-old daughter, Maddie. About four months ago I decided to make a change. Since Mom lives here now, it seemed a logical place to land. Mom has one of the town houses on the second floor.” He broke off, realizing he’d given her far more information than she’d asked for or probably wanted.
“The night Lainie was murdered, you didn’t hear anything?” The intensity of her eyes was heartbreaking.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t. I’m an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy, and even though our places share a common wall, the units are fairly soundproof. I wish I had heard something,” he said as a wealth of emotion surged up. His hands made tight fists at his sides. “I would have gone inside and stopped it all from happening.”
She reached out and placed a hand on his forearm, her fingers hot, as if she were suffering from a fever. “Don’t blame yourself.” She instantly dropped her hand and took a step backward, her forehead wrinkling with a frown.
“I can’t imagine life without her. She was such a big part of my life.” She released a small laugh. “Even when I was in Chicago, Lainie managed to fill my life. She’d call at least once a day. Sometimes it was first thing in the morning and other times in the middle of the night.”
She shook her head ruefully, a hollowness taking up residency in her eyes. “The night of her murder, she called and I didn’t pick up the phone.” Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I was tired and I just didn’t want to deal with any drama, so I let my machine take the call.”
He set his glass on the counter, searching his mind for the right thing to say. She hadn’t shed a tear during the funeral service but, when her lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably and her blue eyes washed with impending tears, he realized she was now about to lose it.
Hank shifted from one foot to the other, unsure what to do as she seemed to crumble within herself. He didn’t know whether he reached for her or she reached for him, but she was suddenly in his arms, sobbing against his chest.
Hank froze for a moment, but as she continued to cry, he wound his arms around her slender back and held her close.
It didn’t matter that they were virtually strangers. At the moment they were merely two people mourning a loss. As he held her, he tried not to notice how well she fit into his arms, how the top of her head fit neatly beneath his chin and the press of her breasts was warm and inviting.
What a time for his hormones to kick back to life after being dormant for so long. He wasn’t sure what it was about Melody Thompson, but from the moment he’d seen her a spark had gone off inside him—a spark he hadn’t felt in years and one he wasn’t eager to welcome back.
She cried for only a minute or two longer, then stepped back from him. “I’m sorry.” She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “I normally don’t fall apart like that.”
“Please, don’t apologize,” he replied. She grabbed a paper napkin from the table and finished wiping her tears. He stood by awkwardly and waited for her to pull herself together. He picked up his drink from the counter, even though he wasn’t thirsty.
“What are your plans now?” he asked.
She tossed the napkin in a nearby trash can, then shrugged. “I have to decide what needs to be done with Lainie’s things, then get the town house on the market.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know,” he offered.
She smiled then, the first smile he’d seen from her, and pleasure washed over him at the beauty of her expression. “Thanks.” The smile fell away and she held his gaze intently. “The most important thing I want to do is find out who killed my sister, and I’m not leaving town until I have an answer.”

Chapter Two (#u4d8f4dbe-1ba6-5d4b-a686-6f4c67c2bf4b)
Melody grabbed her coffee cup and took another sip. Maybe after two or three cups she’d start feeling alive. She sat at the kitchen table listing everything that needed to be done.
She had three lists started. One detailed what needed to be done to get the place ready for resale. The second had notes she’d made about what to do with Lainie’s personal items and the last one simply had the word Investigation across the top.
It was just after eight and the morning sun was pouring in through the window, warming her back as she worked. She’d been up far too late the night before, searching Lainie’s bedroom for a diary, a notepad, anything that might yield a clue as to whom she’d had a date with on the night of her death.
She’d found nothing. If anything had once been there, then the sheriff and his men had probably removed it when they’d searched the place as a crime scene.
It had been after two when she’d finally fallen into bed, exhausted both mentally and physically. She took another sip of her coffee and stared down at the sheet of paper headed Investigation.
There had been no sign of forced entry. That meant that Lainie knew her attacker, that she’d either opened the door to him or he’d had a key.
Hank Tyler had a key. He’d used it to come in and clean up the blood. And any incriminating evidence he feared might remain? She found it hard to believe that the handsome man who had held her while she wept after the funeral was also a cold-blooded killer.
However, she also knew that to trust anyone right now would be foolish. Just because Hank Tyler was easy on the eyes and seemed to have compassion didn’t mean that he wasn’t a viable suspect.
There hadn’t been anything missing. Whoever had come in hadn’t been bent on robbing the place. That meant he’d entered with the specific purpose of harming Lainie.
She picked up her cup once again but, before she could bring it to her lips, she froze. Had she just heard a door open? Her heartbeat quickened, and she thought she heard a furtive movement in the living room.
Had the killer come back?
Sliding out of her seat at the table, she fought the icy chill of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. As quietly as possible, she moved to the drawer that she knew held the knives and grabbed one in her hand.
If she was wrong and nobody was in the condo, then she would chalk it up to an overactive imagination. But if somebody were in the next room, she wouldn’t go in unarmed.
Gripping the knife tightly in her fist, she eased out of the kitchen and into the living room to see a dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl sitting on the sofa.
She swallowed a gasp of surprise and dropped the hand that held the knife to her side. “You must be Maddie,” she said, remembering that Hank had mentioned his daughter.
The little girl nodded, eyeing Melody as if measuring her worth. “My real name is Madeline Renee Tyler. My friends call me Maddie, but I think you should call me Madeline ‘cause I don’t know if we’re going to be friends or not.” She paused a moment. “You aren’t as pretty as Lainie.”
Melody nodded and surreptitiously placed the knife on one of the end tables. “Lainie was beautiful.”
Maddie frowned, her gaze not leaving Melody. “I loved Lainie, but I’m not sure I’m even gonna like you.”
An unexpected burst of laughter welled up inside Melody at the little girl’s brutal honesty. She managed to swallow it. “I’m not at all sure I’ll like you, either.”
“You have to like me.” Maddie lifted her chin a notch. “It’s not polite for grown-ups to dislike little girls.”
Again laughter bubbled to Melody’s lips. “Maybe when we get to know each other a little better we’ll discover that we like each other very much.”
Maddie looked at her dubiously. “Do you like chocolate?”
“I love chocolate.” Melody sat on the opposite end of the sofa.
“Well then, that’s a start,” Maddie replied in a voice very grown-up for her age.
“Does your father know you’re here?” Melody asked.
“He was in the shower and I was supposed to be watching cartoons, but I decided I wanted to come and meet you. He won’t miss me. Lainie used to let me drink soda in the morning.” She cast Melody a glance that indicated that this might just be a tiny fib.
“Really? That’s strange. Lainie always liked a tall glass of orange juice first thing in the morning,” Melody replied. Maddie offered her a sly grin, as if she knew she’d been caught. “Maybe we should call your father and let him know you’re here?”
“He’ll know as soon as he sees that I’m gone. Whenever I disappear he always knows I’m here or at Grandma’s. Besides, I’m mad at him.”
Before Melody could ask why the little girl was mad at her daddy, she heard a rapid knock on the door.
Melody got up and opened the door to see Hank. “Hi, is my…” He gazed over her shoulder and spied his daughter. “I’m so sorry,” he said to Melody.
“It’s all right. Come on in, we were just getting to know each other.”
Hank swept past Melody, bringing with him the scent of minty soap and shaving cream. Clad in a pair of navy slacks and a crisp white shirt, he looked in control and amazingly handsome, but definitely irritated with his daughter.
“Give me the key,” he said as he stood in front of Maddie.
Her chin thrust out and she grabbed the key that Melody now saw hanging on a chain around her neck. “But Lainie gave it to me,” she protested, a hint of moisture shining in her eyes.
“I know, sweetie.” Hank crouched down in front of her. “But Lainie isn’t here anymore and Melody is going to sell this place to somebody else, so you can’t have a key anymore.”
Maddie stood up, removed the chain from her neck and handed it to her father as tears filled her eyes. “Why did she have to die?” She glared at Melody. “I don’t want you here. I want Lainie.” She burst into tears and ran for the door.
“Maddie!” Hank turned to Melody, apology written all over his face. “I’m so sorry.”
Melody held up a hand. “Please, don’t apologize.”
He headed for the door. “Look, she has a birthday party to attend later today. You said you wanted to talk to me about your sister. Would two this afternoon work for you?”
“Okay,” she replied.
With another apologetic glance, he hurried after his daughter, and at that moment the phone rang. Melody reached across to the end table and picked up the cordless.
“Have you come to your senses yet? Are you ready to come back here and stay?” Rita said without preamble.
“I never lost my senses, and no, Mom, I’m not ready to come back there. How are you doing this morning?”
“A little better, I think. All the relatives have gone and Fred wanted me to ask you if you’re joining us for lunch. He thought it would be nice for me to get out of the house and he’s offered to take us to Raymond’s. They have wonderful steaks there.”
“Thanks, but I’m going to pass,” Melody replied. “I want to start boxing up some of the things here.” And she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to talk with Hank. She needed to find out if he knew who her sister had been seeing, who might have had a motive to want her dead.
“It shouldn’t take you too long to get things done there. You need to get back to your own life in Chicago,” Rita said. “I’ll feel better knowing that you’re building your own life. Melody, honey, you gave enough to Lainie.”
Yes, she’d given a lot to Lainie, but when her sister had needed her most, she’d been too tired to pick up the phone. “I’ll get back to my life when it’s time, Mom. Don’t worry about me.” She decided now wasn’t the time to tell her mother that she had no intention of going back to her own life until she found out who had taken her sister’s life.
“I’ve never had to worry about you, Melody. You’ve always been wonderfully self-sufficient. And you were always so good with Lainie, much better than I was.”
It was true. Rita had been at a loss when it came to her eldest daughter. She’d done what she could for Lainie, but usually fell apart at the first sign of trouble. Fred had comforted Rita while most often it had been Melody who stepped in to clean up whatever mess Lainie had made.
There would be no more messes, no more scandals, at least none that involved Lainie because she was gone forever. A feeling of loss nearly took Melody’s breath away.
She and her mother small-talked for a few more minutes, then after Melody had promised to have lunch with her mother the next day, they hung up.
Melody wandered back into the kitchen and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, then sat down and stared at the lists in front of her.
She’d spend the time between now and when Hank arrived packing up Lainie’s clothes. Even though the two sisters had been close in size, they couldn’t be further apart in styles. Lainie had been flamboyant and Melody much more staid. Melody would donate Lainie’s clothes to a local charity.
She’d also donate the furniture. She had no use for it, nor did her mother. There was no point in paying to have it stored.
There were a few personal items she’d keep, like the Guardian Angel picture that had always hung on the wall opposite Lainie’s bed and a collection of fairy figurines that had been collected over the years. The fairies had been Lainie’s favorite possession and Melody couldn’t imagine anyone appreciating them as she would.
She turned her attention to the list that had been on her mind every moment since she’d arrived in town. Staring at the word Investigation that she’d written across the top of the page, she wished she would have listened more carefully to Lainie’s phone calls in recent weeks.
Most of the time when Lainie called it had been late and Melody had been tired. She’d often listened to her sister’s stream-of-consciousness chatter with only half an ear.
She wished she could go back a week or two and really listen to what Lainie had been saying, listen to whom she’d been seeing and where she’d been going. Somewhere in those conversations there might have been a clue to the killer’s identity.
Drawing a deep sigh, she started a final list and at the top of the sheet of paper she wrote the word Suspects. She needed to stop by the bar where Lainie had worked as a bartender off and on for the past five years. Maybe one of the waitresses or some of the customers would know whom she’d been seeing at the time of her death.
She took a sip of her coffee, her thoughts lingering on one particular man. She’d been charmed by Hank’s daughter. Maddie was outspoken and obviously sharp as a knife—and her grief over Lainie’s death had been heartbreaking.
And Hank Tyler had all the characteristics of a heartbreaker. Handsome as sin with an underlying simmering energy and—at least on the surface—a sensitive man. Under different circumstances she might have been interested in him.
But Melody had one rule in life. She never dated men who had dated her sister. She now had a new rule to add to the first. She didn’t date men who were potential murder suspects.
She stared at the list titled Suspects and added the first name. Hank Tyler.
Hank knocked on Lainie’s door at precisely two o’clock. Melody answered with her purse slung over her shoulder and her car keys in her hand.
“I thought we could talk over coffee out,” she said and stepped out of the town house. She firmly pulled the door shut behind her.
“Okay,” he said with a touch of surprise. “Anyplace in particular you want to go?”
“Is the café still there on Main Street?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s still there.” There was only one.
She nodded. “Then if you don’t mind, we’ll go there.”
He shrugged. “All right by me. It would probably be best if I take my own car because I need to pick up Maddie from the birthday party in two hours.”
Hank followed Melody’s rental car to the popular café. While he was driving, he realized the reason she’d wanted to speak with him out in public. She thought he might be Lainie’s killer.
And why wouldn’t she regard him with suspicion? Somebody Lainie knew, somebody she had either let into her condo or who had used a key to enter, had killed her. Melody knew he had a key and he’d told her he’d been close to Lainie. She’d be a fool not to suspect him.
Maybe over coffee he could convince her that he had no reason to kill Lainie, that it had been Lainie who had brought laughter back to his life after it had been missing for too long.
Even though the lunch rush was over, there were few empty tables and booths in the café, which was a popular place for women to share tea and retired men to sip coffee and pass the time.
As he walked in the door, he spied Melody already seated at a booth in the back. The coral blouse she wore brought out the color in her cheeks and made her eyes appear impossibly blue.
He headed toward the booth and couldn’t help but remember how she’d felt in his arms the day before, so warm and for just a moment so yielding.
He mentally shoved the image away as he slid into the seat opposite her. He’d just settled in when the waitress arrived to take their order.
“Coffee,” Melody said.
“Make it two, and I’ll take a piece of apple pie,” Hank said to the waitress, then smiled at Melody. “Sure you don’t want a piece of pie or something?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I just had lunch a little while ago.”
The waitress left and she pulled a small notepad and pen from her purse and set them on the table before her. He eyed them curiously. “I feel like I’m about to be deposed by a lawyer.”
A tinge of red danced into her cheeks. “For the last couple of days I’ve been so frazzled, I think it’s important I take notes so I won’t forget anything you say.”
“I’m not sure what it is you want from me,” he replied.
The waitress arrived at their table and served their coffee and his pie. When the waitress left, Melody wrapped her fingers around her cup as if seeking warmth to chase away some inner chill.
“Lainie and I had kind of an unspoken agreement. Even though she told me when she was going out with somebody, she didn’t give me all the details. She knew I disapproved of her dating habits.” Melody laughed suddenly, a short but musical burst she instantly stifled. “I sound like a prude and I’m not, but I knew Lainie was promiscuous.” She said the last word with a wince, as if it hurt coming out of her mouth.
Hank knew he had two choices. He could either protest her assessment of her sister or he could be completely truthful. He opted for truth. “Lainie was obviously looking for something she couldn’t find.”
“Lainie was mentally ill.” Again there was a wealth of pain lacing her words. “She was never officially diagnosed with anything, refused to see a doctor. But I truly believe she was bipolar or something like that.”
“We talked about that,” he said. She looked at him in surprise. “Lainie knew she was out of sync with the world, but she was afraid of taking medication, of somehow losing herself to drugs in an effort to be normal.”
Melody stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes thoughtful. “You must have been very close to her.”
“I didn’t kill her, Melody.” He leaned forward slightly, wanting to take away any doubt that might linger in her head. “I had no reason to kill your sister. You saw how my daughter loved Lainie. Aside from the fact that I’m not capable of beating a woman to death, I’d never hurt my daughter by harming somebody she loved. She’s had enough loss in her life. I cared about Lainie. She was like a little sister to me.”
There was no way to explain to her that when he’d arrived in Cotter Creek he’d still been deep in a grieving process that had lasted for far too long. It had been Lainie’s irrepressible sense of humor and warmth that had chipped away at the emotional shell he’d built around himself.
Instead of taking away the faint frown that stretched across her forehead, his words deepened it. “You weren’t her lover?”
“Never.” He leaned back against the booth. “Lainie had plenty of lovers. What she needed was a good friend, and that’s what I tried to be to her.” And that’s what he’d needed in his life as well.
She picked up her coffee and took a sip, her gaze not wavering from his. He felt as if he were on trial and the jury was still out.
She placed her cup back on the table, then picked up her pen. “Do you know the names of some of the men Lainie had been seeing just before that night?”
That night. It was as if she found it impossible to say the word killed or murdered. “I know she was off and on with a man named Dean Lucas. He’s a mechanic. Works at Hall’s Car Haven.” He watched as she wrote the information down on her pad. Her long dark hair fell forward, looking shiny and soft, and he was surprised by his impulse to reach out and touch it.
Throughout his relationship with Lainie, he’d learned a lot about Melody Thompson. He knew she had just turned twenty-six, that she’d been the one person Lainie had depended on and that, according to Lainie, Melody had never had a serious romantic relationship.
He found the last hard to believe. She was gorgeous, and bright, with an underlying sensuality that was more than a little appealing. Not that he was interested. When he’d buried his wife, he’d made a vow that there would be no other woman in his life on a permanent basis…ever.
“Who else?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
“She had problems with a guy named James O’Donnell a couple of months ago. I don’t think they were dating, but she thought he was obsessed with her. I think Lainie called the cops on him because she thought he was stalking her.”
She wrote down that information as well, then took another sip of her coffee. “You’d better eat your pie before it gets cold.”
He picked up his fork and cut into the pie, but the last thing on his mind was food. “Why do you want that information? I’ve already told the sheriff everything I know.”
“Sheriff Ramsey is an idiot who couldn’t find a criminal if one came up and introduced himself,” she exclaimed, her voice rich with derision.
“Ramsey isn’t the sheriff anymore,” Hank replied. “Zack West is sheriff now.”
She raised one of her dark, perfectly arched brows. “Really? I didn’t know. I haven’t talked to anyone but family members since I’ve been back in town.”
For a moment they were silent. He ate his pie and she stared down at the short list of names he’d given her.
Lainie had been incredibly easy to read. She’d worn her emotions on her face where everyone could see them. Melody gave away little of what she was thinking or feeling. It was an easy guess that she was a far more complicated woman than her sister had been.
“Your daughter is a little charmer,” she said, finally breaking the silence that had grown between them.
“She’s far too smart and too outspoken for her own good. Which reminds me…” He dug into his pocket and pulled out two keys. “Here are the keys that Lainie gave us to her apartment.” He placed them on the table between them. “I don’t know who else she might have given a key to, so it might be a good idea to change the locks.”
She nodded. “I’ll have somebody come out first thing in the morning. Is there anything else you can tell me about what was going on with Lainie around the time of her death? Anything unusual?”
He hesitated a long moment, unsure about revealing the confidences of a woman now dead. “What?” she asked as she leaned forward.
“Did you know she wanted a baby? That she was trying to get pregnant?” He could tell by the shocked look on her face that Lainie hadn’t shared that with her.
A spasm of grief twisted her features and he bit his tongue, sorry that he’d told her. “That’s the last thing she needed. She couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone a baby,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you,” he said, fighting the impulse to reach out and take her hand, offer some sort of physical support. She looked so sad, so lost.
“No, I want you to tell me everything. If I’m going to find the person who killed her then I need to know everything.”
He stared at her in surprise. “Don’t you think it would be best to leave the investigation to the sheriff and his men?”
She leaned back, looking stronger than she had moments before. “I’ll let the sheriff run his investigation but I intend to run my own. If I know my sister, she liked to run with people who had at least as many problems as she did, people with attitudes and criminal records, not the kind of people who will likely cooperate with anyone in law enforcement. They’ll talk to me.”
Hank thought about the blood he’d cleaned up. So much blood. Whoever had killed Lainie had been enraged. The violence that had taken place in that bathroom sickened him.
He wanted to talk Melody out of whatever it was she intended to do, but he could tell by the fervent glow in her eyes that she was determined.
“That could be dangerous. Do you have a plan?” he asked.
“The first place I’m going to start asking questions is at the Edge,” she replied. “Maybe Lainie’s boss or one of her coworkers will know something.”
Hank scowled. “That bar is no place for a woman to go by herself. Why don’t I tag along with you?”
“I can’t ask you to do that,” she replied.
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
Once again she stared at him for a long moment. He’d thought her eyes were a clear, sharp blue like Lainie’s, but he realized now they were deeper, darker and far more enigmatic than her sister’s.
“I was planning on going tonight,” she finally said.
He nodded. “Maddie can stay at my mother’s.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” she asked. Some of the fervor left her eyes and she suddenly looked small and vulnerable.
“You know any of the West family?” he asked.
“I know them on sight and by reputation. I know they work in the bodyguard business. Why?”
“Dalton West is an old friend of mine. One of the reasons I decided to make the move from Texas to Cotter Creek was so I could go to work for them. At the moment I’m waiting to be assigned to my first job with them.”
Maybe four months of boredom was getting to him, or maybe he was jumping into her drama because he had genuinely grown to care for Lainie. “Maybe we could help each other,” he continued. “It sounds to me like you intend to talk to people and go places that might put a single, attractive woman at risk. You could use a bodyguard, and I could use some practice at being a bodyguard.”
“So, you want to be my bodyguard in training?” A small smile curved her lips.
He returned her smile. “Something like that.”
Once again she wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup and eyed him soberly. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally.
He nodded and told himself it really didn’t matter to him whether she took his offer of help or not. Eventually the killer would be caught and Melody Thompson would return to her life in Chicago.
And he’d keep putting one foot in front of the other and try to figure out how to keep going when the only woman he’d ever loved was gone.

Chapter Three (#u4d8f4dbe-1ba6-5d4b-a686-6f4c67c2bf4b)
Melody stared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. She scarcely recognized the woman who looked back at her. Tight jeans molded to her and the bright turquoise blouse fit her like a second skin, the plunging neckline revealing far more flesh than she was used to showing.
If she was going to hang out at the Edge, then it was important for her to blend in with the clientele that frequented the bar on the edge of town. Her conservative clothes would set her apart, draw attention that she didn’t want, so she’d raided Lainie’s closet for something appropriate.
Her hand trembled slightly as she raised it to smooth an errant strand of hair away from her face. She knew that she might be asking questions tonight that could make somebody nervous.
She turned away from the mirror and checked her wristwatch. Almost nine. Hank would be here soon to accompany her to the bar.
She wasn’t sure why she trusted Hank Tyler, but she did. There was something solid about him. She liked his direct gaze and the straight answers he’d given her over coffee. Besides, he was working for the West family. That went a long way in alleviating any fear she might have that he was a nut.
After she’d left the café and Hank that afternoon, she’d gone straight to the sheriff’s office and met with Zack West. He’d assured her that they were doing everything in their power to find Lainie’s killer.
“But I’ll be straight with you, Melody. We don’t have any real leads and your sister didn’t have a conventional lifestyle.”
“The night of the murder she left a message on my answering machine and told me she was going out with somebody new. I don’t suppose you’ve identified who that might have been?” she’d asked.
Zack shook his head, his green eyes sympathetic. “Not yet. But I’ve told your mother and I’m telling you, I won’t rest until we have the killer behind bars.”
She’d left the office satisfied that Zack and his men were doing everything they could to solve the crime, but unsure just how successful they would be.
As irrational as it was, she felt as if she were the only one who could find the answers. She was the one who had known Lainie better than anyone and she owed it to her sister to help her rest in peace. The only way that would happen was if Lainie’s murderer was found and punished.
The soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts and she hurried to answer. Hank had underdressed for the night as well. Clad in tight worn jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, he looked both slightly dangerous and capable of handling anything that might come his way.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked as she grabbed her purse from the sofa.
“Are you sure you want to?” she countered.
He flashed her a small smile. “I’m in if you are.”
“Then let’s go.” She locked the door behind her and together they left the building and walked out into the warm night air.
“We’ll take my car,” he said as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “If we run into any problems I know mine has the horsepower we need to make a fast getaway.” He gestured toward a bright red sports car, a larger model that seated four.
“Definitely better horsepower than my rental,” she agreed. “Are you expecting trouble?”
He shrugged. “I like to be a good Boy Scout and be prepared for anything.” He opened the passenger door and she slid inside, then watched as he went around the front of the car to the driver’s side.
She drew a tremulous sigh. Hank Tyler had been attractive in his dress slacks and shirt, but he looked like pure sin in those jeans and T-shirt. His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead and only added to his lethal look.
“You don’t need that kind of distraction,” she muttered to herself as he slid in behind the steering wheel.
Fastening her seat belt, she tried to ignore the scent of him, a pleasant fragrance that reminded her of sunshine and sandalwood. “You must have moved into the town houses right around the time Lainie did,” she said, determined to keep her focus on the matter at hand.
He started the engine with a roar and pulled out onto the street. “She moved in a couple of weeks before me and Maddie. The first night we were there she brought over a little basket of soaps she’d collected from hotel rooms over the years.” He smiled. “She said she didn’t have any fruit and refused to bake a cake, but wanted to welcome us and bring us something. Maddie still uses the soaps. She says they’re just her size.”
A new edge of grief crawled up in the back of Melody’s throat as she thought of her sister. “Lainie loved hotel soap and shampoo. When any of us stayed at a hotel, we always grabbed the freebies for her.”
They cruised slowly down Main Street and Melody looked at him curiously. “Where were you before coming here? You mentioned something about Texas?”
“Just south of Dallas. My grandfather was an Oklahoma oil man, and when he passed away he left me an embarrassingly large inheritance. I used it to buy a ranch. I raised cattle and horses.”
“What made you decide to leave it all and come back to Cotter Creek?”
In the illumination from the dashboard she saw his hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. “My wife died.” The words fell flat, with no other information offered.
It was obviously a topic he didn’t want to discuss. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Thanks.”
They were silent for several minutes. So, he wasn’t a stranger to grief, she thought. She realized that’s what he’d meant earlier when he’d told her that his daughter had suffered enough loss in her life.
Her heart ached for Maddie, who had lost a mother so early in life. Melody knew what it was like to lose a parent. She’d lost her father when she’d been ten, and while Fred had stepped in as a father figure and support, it would never be the same as having her own dad in her life.
A new tension filled her as Hank turned off the main road and onto a gravel road that led to the Edge. Was she foolish to think that she could get information that Zack West couldn’t? Perhaps. All she knew was that she needed to try.
“Looks like a full house,” he said as the place came into view. A sprawling one-story building, it was weathered to a dark gray with neon signs in the windows that advertised a variety of beer.
Motorcycles were parked in a row by the front door and the parking lot was filled with pickups and cars. A group of men stood just outside the front door, their cowboy hats pulled low in tough-guy fashion.
Hank found an empty parking space and pulled in, then together they got out of the car. As they approached the door, Hank threw an arm across her shoulder in a proprietary fashion. She welcomed it, was glad that he was with her as the men eyed her up and down with drink-induced boldness.
Hank met their stares with a hint of challenge as he and Melody passed them to go inside. Anxiety twisted in her stomach as they entered the dim, noisy, smoky tavern.
Hank pointed to two empty stools at the bar and Melody quickly beelined for them. “Two beers,” Hank said to the bartender, a young man with tattooed arms and a pierced ear.
“Bottle or tap?”
“Bottle,” Melody said. She wasn’t sure she wanted to drink from any glass the place had to offer.
The bartender set the beer in front of them and Hank tossed a bill on the counter. “Is Harry in?” She had to yell to be heard above the sound of the band that was playing on a platform stage at the other end of the place.
The bartender glanced at his wristwatch and then shook his head. “He usually shows up around ten or so.”
“Can you let me know when he gets here?” she asked.
He nodded and moved down the bar to serve another customer. “Who’s Harry?” Hank asked. He leaned so close to her she felt his warm breath on the side of her neck. It danced a shiver of pleasure up her spine.
“Harry Pryor, the owner,” she replied. She picked up her beer, then swiveled her stool around to face the crowd. The dance floor was packed with two-stepping cowboys and women dressed to attract Mr. Right, or at least Mr. Right at the Moment.
So many people, she thought. How was she ever going to find the ones who might have been close to Lainie? How could she even begin to try to figure out who might have answers that could lead to a killer?
She looked at Hank, who scanned the crowd with narrowed, calculating eyes. “See anyone you know?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I was hoping to see either Dean or James here, but I don’t see either of them.”
“It’s early,” Melody replied. She turned back around and motioned to the bartender. When he approached them she offered him her brightest smile. “I was just wondering if you were friends with Lainie Thompson.”
He grabbed a wet sponge and swiped down the countertop. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m Melody Thompson, Lainie’s sister.”
Immediately his expression changed as a smile exposed a chipped front tooth. “Everyone was Lainie’s friend. She used to talk about you a lot.” The smile fell. “I can’t believe what happened to her.”
“You know anyone who was angry with her? Somebody she was fighting with or who was giving her a hard time?” Melody asked.
His gaze shifted to Hank, then back to Melody. “Is he a cop?”
Hank shook his head. “Just a friend.”
“I already talked to the sheriff and told him I don’t know anyone who was upset with Lainie, unless maybe it was Harry. But Harry was always mad at Lainie. He’d fire her at closing then rehire her the next day. Look, I really don’t know anyone who’d want to hurt Lainie.” Once again he moved away from them as a customer hollered for him.
Hank leaned closer to Melody. “Anyone else you see that you want to question?”
Once again she gazed around the room and spied a waitress in black tights, a short skirt and a tight T-shirt that advertised the Edge. “The waitress over there. Her name is Kerry Butcher. She was one of Lainie’s friends.” She slid off the stool.
“Want me to come with you?” Hank asked.
“No, I’ll just see if I can grab her when she brings over her next drink order.” Besides, Melody suddenly needed a bit of distance from Hank Tyler. She was finding it difficult to focus on what she was there for with his evocative scent washing over her and his body warming hers.
She’d been cold ever since she’d been told about her sister’s murder, and she found Hank’s warmth far too appealing for comfort.
She wound her way through the crowd and touched Kerry’s arm. The big-breasted, wild-haired woman spun around to face her. Her caramel-colored eyes instantly took on the sheen of tears. “Melody! What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you about Lainie,” Melody replied.
Kerry frowned as somebody at a nearby table called her name. “I’ve got a break coming up in about ten minutes. Meet me in the back of the building.”
As Melody returned to the bar she couldn’t help but notice that Hank was the most attractive man in the place and was garnering plenty of admiring female glances.
Another place, another time, she might have considered following through on her initial attraction to him, but he was merely an emotional support while she navigated her way through her sister’s murder investigation. Nothing more.
By summer’s end she’d be back in Chicago living the life she’d begun there. There had only been two weeks left of school when she’d gotten the word about Lainie’s death and Mr. Cook, the principal at the school, had assured her the job would be waiting for her in the fall.
“Everything okay?” Hank asked as she rejoined him at the bar.
“I’m supposed to meet her behind the building in ten minutes when she takes her break.”
“Maybe she’ll be able to tell you something you can take to Zack.” He frowned. “I know it’s really none of my business, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to be putting yourself out here like this, asking questions that could possibly stir somebody up in a very bad way.”
Melody lifted her bottle of beer to her lips and took a swallow, her mouth suddenly unaccountably dry as she felt an unexpected press of tears.
She set the bottle back down on the bar, then leaned closer to Hank. “I just need to do this,” she said. “You don’t have to help me, but I have to do this, with or without you.”
For a long moment his gaze held hers and the noise, the crowd and their entire surroundings fell away as she felt as if he were looking deep inside her and saw her need. He covered her hand with his and smiled. “Bodyguards in training don’t quit before the job is done.”
She smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you.”
“And now, let’s head out back and see what your waitress friend has to tell us.”
It was almost midnight when Hank and Melody left the Edge with precious little information gained. As they got back into his car he could feel her depression weighing heavily on her.
Kerry hadn’t known who Lainie was seeing at the time of her death, although she did mention both Dean and James as men in Lainie’s recent past. Harry, the owner of the tavern, had also had little information to give them, except mentioning that Lainie had been talking about wanting to have a baby.
They’d spoken with him in his cramped office in the back of the building, and he’d told them that he didn’t remember any customers having problems with Lainie or her talking about having any kind of trouble with anyone else.
“I guess it was silly of me to think I’d just waltz right in and find out all the answers that Zack hasn’t been able to find,” she said, breaking the silence that had built between them. She released a weary sigh.
“Not silly, just a bit unrealistic,” he replied.
“I hope your mother isn’t upset that we stayed so late.”
“She’s keeping Maddie overnight so it’s not an issue.” He turned into the parking lot of the town houses, surprised to discover that he was sorry the night was about to end.
It had been a long time since anything or anyone had captured his interest. Certainly he was interested in seeing Lainie’s murderer brought to justice, but he had to confess that he was quickly becoming equally intrigued by Melody.
When he’d first arrived at Lainie’s place that evening, her appearance had punched him right in the gut. She’d looked hot in her tight jeans and turquoise blouse, and throughout the evening he’d hardly been able to keep his eyes off her.
He’d had one brief affair a year ago with a woman he’d known had no expectations of a happily-ever-after. He had a feeling that Melody Thompson wasn’t at all like that.
As they’d sat in the bar watching the crowd, the toetapping music had made him want to grab Melody in his arms and swing her out on the dance floor. He’d wanted to feel her body pressed against his, move in the rhythm that mimicked sex.
Rebecca had loved to dance. Almost every Friday night she’d asked Hank to go with her to the local honky-tonk for a night of dancing. Most Friday nights he’d declined. He’d been too tired, preferred spending his evenings alone with Rebecca and Maddie rather than in a bar with loud music and drinkers.
When Melody wasn’t asking questions about her sister, they’d talked, passing the time and getting to know each other better. She was easy to talk to, both intelligent and quick-witted.
He parked and they got out of the car. “You want to come in for a little while?” she asked when they reached her door. “I know it’s late but I’m a little wound up. I could make some coffee.”
He smiled. “Coffee is the last thing you need if you’re already wound up.” He could tell by the soft plea in her eyes that she didn’t want to be alone. “But, I would come in for a tall glass of water.”
She flashed him a grateful smile and unlocked her door. He followed her through the living room and into the kitchen where he sat at the table while she got out the glasses and ice.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said as she placed his glass of water in front of him.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied as she sat in the chair opposite him. “I want Lainie’s murderer caught, too.”
Melody took a sip of her water, then stared out the window where the blackness of night was profound. “She hated the night,” she said softly. “She read a poem when she was younger. I don’t know who wrote it or where she found it, but it started out something like…‘When night falls and takes the day, that’s when evil comes out to play.’ I don’t remember the rest of it. She told me once that when night fell and she was alone, she feared she’d disappear. It was her biggest fear and it breaks my heart that it came true.”
Melody looked at him, her eyes filled with pain. “As silly as it sounds, I think it would have been easier if she’d been murdered during the day instead of at night when she was most frightened anyway.”
Her words broke his heart. Once again he had the desire to pull her into his arms and offer comfort, promise her that the pain would pass and life would go on. But how could he promise her that when he wasn’t at all sure it was the truth? It had been two years, and his pain was still as raw as it had been the night that Rebecca slipped from this world.
“Tell me about your life in Chicago,” he said, hoping the change of subject would take away the shadows from her eyes. “Lainie told me you’re a teacher.”
“Third grade. I love kids that age, around Maddie’s age.”
“You always wanted to be a teacher?”
“Not always.” She leaned back in the chair and for the first time since the evening had begun she looked relaxed. The tiny line of stress that had streaked across her forehead had disappeared and her mouth looked less tense. “For the first two years of college I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life.”
“You went to Maple Park College?” he asked, knowing the small school was a mere twenty minutes away.
She smiled. “I think almost everyone who lives in Cotter Creek attends Maple Park Community College at one time or another.” She took a sip of the water, then continued. “For a long time I thought my job in life was going to be taking care of Lainie. She never wanted me to be too far away from her.”
“But you moved to Chicago.”
She leaned forward, the line of stress once again creasing her forehead. “By the time I graduated and realized I wanted to teach, there were no jobs here in Cotter Creek. Actually, it was Lainie who initially encouraged me to take a job wherever I could get one. She was feeling particularly good at the time, strong and independent. So I got the offer from the school in Chicago and decided to take it. I was thrilled when I heard that Lainie had decided to move out of Mom’s home and into her own place. But I could tell by her phone calls that she wasn’t having an easy time without me.” She sighed, as if the long explanation had exhausted her.
“Lainie mentioned you didn’t date much. You have somebody special in Chicago?”

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