In Seconds

3

I have a better idea… What if we made an arrangement?… What kind of arrangement?… An arrangement that would last for one night…?.

Holy hell. Myles had so many hormones coursing through him he couldn’t even bring himself to sit down. Leaving the lights off—the darkness gave him a sense of privacy he desperately needed right now—he prowled around his living room, fighting the urge to return to Vivian’s. If he couldn’t convince her to go out with him, why not take what he could get? Tonight might be his only chance.

But that was a pretty creepy way to look at it. He really didn’t want to be that big an asshole. For one thing, she’d had too much to drink. That meant he couldn’t.

There were other issues, too. He still felt some loyalty to Amber Rose, hadn’t been with anyone since. Then there was Marley and how irresponsible it would be for him, as a father and a police officer, to be intimate with someone he wasn’t even dating. And what about Pat? The murder of a Pineview citizen should’ve been enough to keep him occupied and well beyond temptation. He’d assigned his two best investigators to the case, but he’d have his work cut out for him in the morning, when the press began to call and everyone started demanding answers. He should be getting some sleep. The whole community was depending on him…?.

But he wanted her. There was no question about that. As guilty and disloyal as it made him feel, he’d wanted her almost from the first day he saw her, watering her lawn wearing that pretty summer dress and no shoes. Would one night of hot, sweaty sex be that reprehensible?

If he indulged himself, maybe he’d be able to start living again. He felt as if his life had been on pause since Amber Rose died. He’d convinced himself to go out on a couple of blind dates set up by well-meaning friends, and he’d joined a softball team in an attempt to socialize, but he was merely going through the motions, pretending to be whole when he wasn’t. Except for the love he had for his daughter and the interest Vivian sparked whenever he saw her, he felt very little passion for anyone or anything—even, to a point, his work.

This might be the answer, might bring him back to the man he used to be.

He imagined taking Vivian to the lake, pictured himself peeling off her swimsuit and bringing his mouth to her breast, and nearly groaned. Allowing himself to dangle at the far edge of restraint was driving him mad—

“Daddy?”

His daughter’s voice acted like a splash of cold water in the face. Whipping around, he saw her charging down the steps, heading toward the kitchen. He’d left the light on in there. Her best friend, Elizabeth, trailed after her. Their movie must’ve ended.

“Yes?”

His answer, coming from the direction it did, startled her. She hadn’t expected to find him brooding in the dark.

After hesitating for a moment, she came forward. “Is something wrong?”

A lot was wrong. But he felt as though fifteen minutes with Vivian could fix at least some of it. “No, why?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just thinking.”

When she leaned closer, he could tell she was trying to see him more clearly in the light spilling from the hallway. “Why is your hair messed up?”

Better his hair than his clothes, he thought, and jammed his hands in his pockets. “I must’ve shoved my fingers through it.”

“It looks funny.” She nudged Elizabeth and they both giggled. But then she sobered and the worry was back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

That was a question he hoped he’d be more capable of answering in the affirmative tomorrow. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Elizabeth and I were wondering if I could stay over at her house tonight.”

“No!” The quickness of his reply revealed that he hadn’t even considered it. She wouldn’t like that, of course, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t let her stay elsewhere. Not until they found Pat’s killer. Besides, her absence would leave him with an empty house, making it that much more difficult not to slip over to Vivian’s.

When she summoned the pout he usually couldn’t resist, he knew she wasn’t going to accept his answer without an argument. “Why not? It’s summer. It’s not like I have school tomorrow.”

He hated to tell her about Pat, but she obviously hadn’t heard. “Pat Stueben was murdered today, Marley. I don’t want you going anywhere.”

The “please, please, please” part had been coming next. He could tell. But this brought her up short. “What do you mean…murdered?”

He put some effort into gentling his voice. “Someone killed him.”

She gaped at Elizabeth, whose horrified expression matched her own. “The real-estate agent?” she breathed when her attention shifted back to him. “The guy who sold us this house?”

“That’s him.”

“Oh, no!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Now I feel awful for making fun of that plaid jacket he always wears…wore.”

Her comment might’ve been comical under different circumstances. Under these circumstances, Myles wasn’t even tempted to laugh. “It’s very sad, especially for his wife.”

“Are you sure someone did it? It wasn’t an—an accident?”

“I’m sure. A person doesn’t get beaten to death by accident.”

“So that’s why you’re pacing around in here.”

The murder was part of it; his angst over Vivian was the rest. That lust could take center stage on a night like this made him question his own character.

Marley turned on a lamp. “But…how could someone do such a thing?”

The sexual tension that had held him in its grip was beginning to dissipate. His daughter grounded him, helped him remember what was important. He’d made the right decision coming home. How could he expect Marley to approach sexual relationships with respect and caution if he didn’t set the proper example? “I don’t know, but we’re going to do everything we can to find the culprit.”

“Are you investigating it? I thought you had people who did that for you.”

“I do, but I’m in charge, so I’m responsible for how it’s handled.”

Troubled eyes regarded him as she pondered the news. But with typical teenage narcissism, she reverted to what she wanted almost immediately. “So why does that mean I can’t go to Elizabeth’s? You don’t think it’s safe?”

That wasn’t what he’d meant to convey. He didn’t want to cause mass panic in Pineview. He simply preferred to have his daughter at home tonight, where he could watch over her. And he wanted to remove the temptation to unleash the anger, disappointment, sexual frustration and myriad other emotions of the past three years on his neighbor. Taking Vivian up on her offer wouldn’t have made dealing with their lives afterward any easier. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to be cautious while my investigators figure out how and why it happened and make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“You think someone else could be killed?”

Unless the perpetrator had already moved on. For the sake of everyone who lived in this small town by the lake, Myles hoped the danger had passed. But he also craved justice for Pat and understood how much harder it would be to obtain if his killer had left the area. “I can’t even guess. Like I said, we need to be cautious until we know more.”

“Oh, my gosh!” She grabbed her friend’s hand. “Then can Elizabeth stay here instead?”

So much for being afraid he’d spook her. With a sigh, Myles stretched the taut muscles in his neck. “Sure. As long as it’s okay with her parents.”

“We’ll call,” she said, and they hurried into the kitchen.

Despite the opening and closing of various cupboards—Marley digging out a snack—Myles heard Elizabeth on the phone.

“You know that real-estate guy? The one with the fake hair and that old-fashioned jacket? He’s dead,” she told her parents. “Someone killed him.”

The horror in those words doused the last of the arousal burning inside Myles. He had no business obsessing about a woman who wouldn’t even go out with him, not when he had a murder to solve.

And yet he was still up, rambling around the house, long after the girls fell asleep. Never had he missed Amber Rose more. It’s not fair. She should still be here with us.

But life wasn’t fair. No doubt Pat Stueben would tell him that.

If he could…

Vivian woke angry at Myles. It was the only way to avoid the embarrassment that would set in otherwise. After he’d shown a great deal of interest in her over the past year, she’d been nice enough to offer him the physical intimacy he had to be missing—and it wasn’t going to cost him so much as a meal. But he’d refused her. She had no patience with a guy like that. What was he, some kind of saint?

“Of course he is,” she grumbled. She’d heard what everyone had to say about him—how hard he tried to be a good father, how tender he’d been with his wife. This town considered him their guardian angel, the answer to every problem. He was even more popular than the mayor. But she didn’t have the luxury of living in a world where she could welcome the possibility of love. Not without putting the person she loved in danger. Or taking the risk of being wrenched away from him. That was why, in some ways, Rex had been perfect for her. Falling for him hadn’t drawn him into her problems. As Virgil’s former cellie and an ex–Crew member himself, he’d been involved before they ever met.

Tightening her robe, she tossed both wine bottles in the recycle bin. Pat’s murder had sent her reeling, made her reach for an antidote to her pain and fear. But the fact that someone had been killed was all the more reason to keep her wits about her. Especially since Claire would be over soon, wanting to know if Vivian had heard any more about the murder, if the sheriff happened to mention it to her, if she could ask him whether it might have a connection, however remote, to her missing mother. When Myles first came to town, he’d reopened the case as a favor to Claire, but her sister, Leanne, didn’t want to be reminded of the past. She’d reacted so badly to the investigation that Claire had asked him to stop.

Movement next door drew Vivian’s attention to the kitchen window. Myles had emerged from his house.

Don’t look at him!

She didn’t want to, but couldn’t resist. Tall and commanding in his uniform, he was as gorgeous as ever. She knew Virgil and Rex wouldn’t approve of her fascination with a cop. After having spent so much time in prison, they didn’t care for the type of personality generally attracted to law enforcement. But, as Claire so often pointed out to her, Myles was different. He was real, warm, unaffected by the power his office gave him. That was because he had a natural sense of authority, and even if he wasn’t the sheriff, she felt pretty certain that people would expect him to take charge—

Wait! Was he looking back at her? Yes! Startled by the realization, she ducked out of sight and, a few seconds later, heard his car start.

“Thank God,” she whispered as he drove away.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Jake had come stumbling into the kitchen. Although he was dressed—in swim trunks, a T-shirt and flip-flops—his thick blond hair stood up on one side and his eyelids drooped with sleep.

A bit self-conscious about being discovered hiding behind the curtains, Vivian pasted a smile on her face. “Nothing, honey. What are you doing up so early?” She glanced at the clock. “It’s barely six.”

“Nana Vera is taking me fishing. She’ll be here any minute.”

A trickle of unease slid down Vivian’s spine. Last week, when she’d agreed to let Vera take Jake for the day, she’d had no idea they’d planned an activity so out of the ordinary. “What do you mean, you’re going fishing?”

“Nana Vera said I could do anything I want. Today is my half birthday.” He grinned at the idea of having a second birthday in one year. “So I picked fishing. I’ve never been fishing before.”

A twinge of guilt added yet another element to the chaos of Vivian’s emotions. Myles had invited her and the kids to go out on the lake a few weeks ago, had specifically mentioned how much her son would enjoy it, and she’d refused.

She didn’t feel comfortable with Jake being near the water today, either. She wasn’t as afraid of letting him grow attached to Vera as she was Myles. Vera seemed far safer in that regard. She needed Vera’s help too badly to avoid letting her have contact with the children, anyway. But she wasn’t sure their “nana” was completely reliable when it came to keeping Jake safe so close to the lake. Would she have the physical strength and agility to save him if he fell in?

Or was she being overprotective? He’d be wearing a life jacket, he knew how to swim and no doubt he’d be fishing from the wharf, where so many young men liked to go.

Because of everything that had happened—the release of her brother from prison, his and Rex’s attempt to leave The Crew and The Crew’s determination to stop them or make them pay—Vivian had a tendency to shield her children too much. That only made her son more determined to escape the strictures of her concern. She could sense him pulling away from her as he grew older, preferring to spend time with Myles and other men, to embrace life without fear or reservation.

But there was so much Jake didn’t know, so much she wouldn’t tell him for fear he’d have to carry the same burden she did…?.

“What about your sister?” she asked, stalling while she decided whether or not she’d go along with this.

He selected a box of cereal from the pantry. “It’s not her half birthday, so she doesn’t get to go.”

“Why not?” This came from Mia, who’d entered the kitchen behind him. Still in her nightgown, she looked as tired as Jake. But, in true Mia fashion, she wasn’t about to miss out on anything. She seemed to feel as if she should be able to trail after her brother 24/7.

“Because it’s not your half birthday,” he said with sufficient exasperation to tell them both that he was tired of repeating it. “You’ll get your turn. I was born first, so I get to go first. You heard Nana.”

Her bottom lip jutted out. “I want to catch a fish.”

Vivian handed Jake a bowl and a spoon, which he carried, together with his cereal, to the table. “Then ask Nana to take you fishing when it’s your turn,” he said.

“I’m calling her!” Mia started for the phone on the wall, but Vivian intercepted her by sweeping her into both arms for a hug. She was getting too big to carry, but Vivian couldn’t resist. Besides, this day meant a lot to Jake. Vivian felt she had to agree to it or risk driving an even bigger wedge between them.

“We’ll let Jake have his half birthday and plan yours, okay?” she said.

Mia opened her mouth to complain, but Vivian spoke before she could. “What are you going to do for yours?”

The furrows on her forehead disappeared. “Make a cake,” she announced. “And have a party!”

“That sounds like fun,” Vivian said. “Will I be invited?”

Her daughter gave her an impish grin. “Will you bring a present?”

Vivian laughed. “Of course.”

“What kind of present?”

“Aren’t presents supposed to be a surprise?”

As Mia tried to weasel an answer out of her, Jake wolfed down his cereal, set his bowl in the sink and went up to brush his hair and teeth.

Just as Vivian heard the faucet go off, a car horn sounded outside.

“Nana’s here!” she called up to him.

Rapid footsteps pounded the old wooden floor in the hallway above as he dashed for the stairs and jumped down them two at a time.

“Have fun!” Vivian said, but she almost couldn’t leave it at that. Wanting to warn Vera about all the dangers of the lake—and to make sure she’d heard about Pat Stueben’s murder so that she’d be extra cautious—she nearly followed him out of the house. But that was precisely the sort of thing that upset Jake.

Vera was careful with the kids. She’d take good care of him.

“I can’t wait till it’s my turn.” Mia’s wistful comment broke the silence that had rolled over them like a fog in the wake of Jake’s rushed departure.

Vivian smoothed her daughter’s hair off her forehead. “Your turn will come soon enough, sweetheart,” she promised. If they were able to stick around…

Where would they go if they had to leave? And how would she manage another relocation? She’d been on a rent-to-own plan and had recently signed the contract to purchase her house. She no longer had the government’s help and, expecting the coming fall to be her best year yet, she’d invested what money she hadn’t put into the house in her business.

Just when she’d stopped looking behind her…

Eager to send her brother an email, to get some reassurance that he, Peyton and Rex were okay in upstate New York and to keep him apprised of what was happening in Montana, she quickly prepared Mia’s breakfast. Then, sitting at the desk in one corner of the living room, she went online—and that was when her throat closed as if someone had tightened a noose around it.

It was Tuesday, not Sunday. This wasn’t the day she and Virgil usually communicated. But there was a message from him. And it was marked Urgent.