A Shiver At Twilight (3 page)

“Why are you here?” she asked suddenly.

“I saw your car up on the highway. It was still running and the headlights were on. I thought there might be trouble so I pulled over to help, but there was no one there.”

Carly watched him, suddenly certain there had to be more to it than that.

“It looked like something was down in the canyon—I couldn’t tell what, so I came to see.”

“How did you get down here?”

“There’s a road—it loops back and around the base of the canyon.”

“Can we get out the same way? Up to my car?”

“Tonight? In this storm? Maybe. It would be risky, though. It’s a good ten-twelve miles. Up. You don’t even have a coat.”

True and already the cold had made her numb. “But . . . You came all that way without even knowing what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” he said. “Someone could have been hurt down here.”

She stared at him standing there like some unflappable hero in a bad action flick, flashlight in hand, cool confidence radiating from him.

“What are you, a boy scout?”

She hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic or ungrateful, but in a night when nothing made sense, his “rescue” seemed nearly as bizarre as the absent old man and the fire that no longer burned.

His chin lifted a fraction and his eyes narrowed on her face. Embarrassed by her own harsh words, she tried to look away, but he captured her gaze and held it.

“Looks to me like you could use a boy scout,” he said softly.

He had her there. Face hot, she broke his spell on her and glanced down at her feet.

“How did you know your friend was in an accident, anyway?” he asked. “Did you see it?”

“She called me,” Carly said, keeping her lashes lowered so he couldn’t look in her eyes again.

“After it happened? So you know she’s okay?”

“No, I was talking to her when it happened,” she lied. “The police said they couldn’t find anything so I raced up here.”

JD studied her for a long moment and she had the uncanny sense that he’d seen through her deception to the truth. But that was impossible. No one would guess how she knew about Jillian being run off the road. Even if she told him, he wouldn’t believe it.

Softly JD sucked in a breath. “Christ,” he said. “You must have been nuts, hearing that. No wonder you jumped in your car and drove through this storm.”

Relief washed over her, but with it a strange sense of disappointment. In those moments when he’d held her, she’d felt a connection like she’d never experienced before. Maybe this man might be different.

Ridiculous.

He turned away and continued his inspection of the house, bouncing his flashlight beam over the room. Shaken by her own thoughts, she went with him, noticing with uneasy surprise that the rocking chair had broken runners and a layer of dust and dirt coated the blankets in the corner.

“Did she call you back? Afterwards?” JD asked.

Carly stared at the chair, clearly remembering that it had been rocking when she entered the room the first time. As if the old man had just stood up from it.

“Carly?” JD repeated. He touched her shoulder and had her immediate attention. “Did your friend call you after the accident?”

Without thinking, Carly shook her head. JD gave her a sideways look, frowning. “Then how did you know where to go? Where to find her car?”

Mouth dry, Carly cursed herself for the slip. “Just before, she told me about the scenery and how pretty it was in Canyon Veil,” she said quickly.

His expression mirrored the disbelief she heard in his voice. “She could have crashed anywhere in a twenty mile radius,” he said. “How did you find the exact place? I was there. You could barely see it from the road.”

“Just lucky, I guess,” she answered. Her teeth had begun to chatter from the cold, from the dread she’d felt since she’d seen the accident.

“With that kind of luck, I hope you play the lottery,” JD muttered.

He went to the front door and closed it. The click it made echoed ominously. An instant later another sound followed. Another door, upstairs. It slammed shut, rocking the house with the force of its swing.

They heard the thud of heavy footsteps thumping the floor and then another door slammed with a rattling bang. A slight pause and then more pounding steps and a third door banged shut, then a fourth and a fifth. Someone up there was running down the hall from one end to another, slamming every door in between. Then suddenly the steps started back, racing, angry. They paused at what had to be the landing at the top of the stairs. Then they started down.

Carly couldn’t help herself, she scooted closer to JD. The ceiling of the first floor obscured the upper portion of the stairway and they waited for the feet, then legs, then body to appear. But though the heavy thud of steps raced closer, they saw nothing, no one to make the sound.

She could feel her lungs burning, begging for her to breathe in, but she couldn’t. She could only stare as the pounding came at her, wanting to move aside but paralyzed by fear.

The sound rushed them, an invisible menace ladened with hostile intent. It didn't pause, even though the steps made the dust at the floor by their feet jiggle and dance. And then it pushed between them, nudging both of their shoulders as it split them apart and hurled itself at the front door. The heavy wood swung back on its hinges then banged shut again, rattling the cracked glass panes that bordered it.

The two of them stood motionless, staring at the door, speechless as a deathly silence settled like the freezing snow.

Chapter Five

“What the hell was that?” JD said under his breath, staring at the closed door, the rattling window panes, trying to rationalize what had just happened. But there was no way to do it. Something had come down those stairs. Something big, alarming . . . and invisible.

Christ almighty. Beside him, Carly stood like she’d been turned to stone. Her big blue eyes looked ready to swallow her face and she was pale. Too pale. A fine tremor seemed to be running through her.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to touch her and bring her back from the edge of terror she teetered on. She shifted those baby blues to his face and pulled in a loud, gasping breath. He watched her chest rise as she drew it in but there it seemed to stick. She shook her head and tried again, but her lungs had locked up. She wasn’t breathing.

“Shit,” he said and moved to help, not sure what to do. Was she hyperventilating? Had something blocked her airways? He didn't know, but she made a desperate sound of panic and her hands flew to her throat.

Quickly, he moved behind her, pinned down her arms and forced her to bend forward, using his body as support as he pushed her head lower. She made another gasping sound that scared the hell out of him and then he heard her expel whatever had held her lungs captive. She gulped in a new breath, and then another. He kept her bent, her hips cradled by his, listening for her exhale, relieved when he heard it.

He nearly slumped with relief, still bent around her, still holding her tight against his body, aware of her softness, her heat, the curved femininity of her. He cursed himself for thinking about her breasts which made a silken weight against the arm he had wrapped beneath them as he kept her steady while the oxygen raced through her blood. He tried not to focus on the hips firmly pressed to his or how seductively rounded they were.

At last she took another deep breath and then a few more ragged inhalations before her breathing returned to normal. She was so small, fine boned and delicate. She roused all of his protective instincts.

The thought sent a red flag up in his mind. Damsel in distress. According to his brother, Bill, JD had a hero syndrome. He rescued women from bad relationships, financial ruin—he glanced at Carly—mud slides. He did it because he wanted to help, not because he expected anything in return. But more often than not, he ended up paying for his good intentions. No good deed goes unpunished, as Bill loved to say.

Carly took another breath and patted his hand. He realized he was still holding her head down. Embarrassed, he straightened, reluctantly giving her some space. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her though. He dropped his hand to her back where he rubbed slow circles. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m okay,” she said after a moment. She turned, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparking with an awareness that made his blood feel hot beneath his chilled skin. She gave him a nervous smile and squared her shoulders as she darted her gaze over the shadows that surrounded them. Mud covered her from head to toe, scratches whipped up her arms and fear tightened the muscles around her mouth and pulled a frown between her finely arched brows, but she tried to put on a brave face.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice pitched low. “I’m better now.”

JD nodded and forced himself to let her go and step away. “Sounds like your old man is upstairs. I’m going to go up and see what’s going on. I’ll be right back.”

“What?” she asked, double-stepping to catch up to him. “You’re going up there?”

Her face was so expressive that he only needed to look at her to read her thoughts. Her bravado had fled under the fear of being left alone.

“I’m just going to talk to the guy,” he said, glancing at the darkness that waited above. “Don’t worry.”

“You think he’s up there?” Carly whispered.

He faced her, his gaze calm and serious. “Someone slammed those doors.”

Or something, her worried eyes corrected him.

“Someone,” he said to her silence. “It’s the old guy you said let you in, right?”

She nodded, entirely unconvinced.

“Come with me,” he said easily enough and yet his pulse still felt hot and fast from having all those soft curves so tight against him and the simple invitation took on another meaning in his head.

He gave himself a shake and a mental eye roll. Obviously he’d been too long without female company. He just hadn’t realized what bad shape he was in until he’d set his eyes on this female.

He started up the stairs, trying to project calm and fearlessness, taking each step like it led to the upper floor of Macy’s and not an eerie, deserted place that had just coughed up an invisible, stomping, door-slammer.

Honestly, he didn't know what the hell he’d find upstairs. This house had been abandoned years ago which meant either some homeless person had decided it would make a good shelter or kids had taken over upstairs, playing games and trying to scare them off. That still didn't explain the rushing energy that had pushed him, but that didn't mean there wasn’t an explanation for it.

Silently, he tracked his flashlight beam into the consuming darkness, aware of Carly so close behind him that a quick stop would send her crashing into him. He fought the instinct to reach back and take her hand. Fought an even greater desire to turn around, pull her close and talk about the first thing that came up. He couldn’t remember ever having such a fast and physical reaction to a woman he’d just met. It took the concept of chemistry to a whole new level. Being near her felt damned close to combustible. He wondered if she felt any of it…he wondered if somewhere away from this cold, dark house she had a boyfriend waiting. A husband even.

He felt a scowl pulling his brows together at that.

“So Carly,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Did you tell your husband you were going out for a drive in the worst storm of the decade?” he asked as casually as he could.

“I’m not married,” she said. “What about you? Does your wife know you’re out rescuing strange women tonight?”

It pleased him to no end that she’d asked.

“Of course,” he said. “That’s what boy scouts do.”

“And she’s okay with that?” Carly asked, sounding cross and a little disappointed.

JD shot her a smile over his shoulder. “I’m not married either,” he said and let his gaze travel her pale features, lingering on the big eyes that stared back. God, she was pretty. Dangerously so. He needed to get his mind off all of those curves and focus on what went on here and now.

He reached the top of the stairs and called out a loud hello. His voice echoed dissonantly in the suffocating quiet. The old man didn't answer. If he’d really let Carly in, where had he gone? Maybe he’d heard the male voice and assumed it was the police, there to throw him out. Maybe he was just as scared as Carly was. JD aimed the beam of his light down the hallway as Carly stopped at his side, inching closer until her shoulder brushed his.

Her hair had a faint, coconut scent that made him want to gather it up in his hands and bury his face in it. He forced himself to ignore the impulse and concentrate on finding the old man.

His flashlight parted the shadows and brought a chilling illumination to the darkness. Every door in the hall stood open.