Colder Than Ice (20 page)

“What did he do?”

“I don't know. I ran up here and hid. Kept the door locked until I heard you guys pull in. I guess I scared him off.”

Bryan was riveted, watching her, and he put his hands on her shoulders, thinking how scared she must have been. “Are you okay?”

She nodded rapidly. “I didn't see him, but I think…no, I know. I know it was him, Bryan.”

“Who?”

“Mordecai Young,” she told him. Then she looked him in the eye. “My father.”

 

Josh took Beth into the kitchen and put on a kettle of water as she sank tiredly into a chair. “Maude's tea is great,” he said, “but I'm in the mood for cocoa.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

He licked his lips. “Well, this is your house. You've been gracious enough not to ask Bryan and me to leave, so far, and—”

“I don't want you to leave.” She blurted the words as if on impulse, and the silence that followed them confirmed his guess that they hadn't been preplanned. She seemed to gather her thoughts; then she started over. “You're welcome to stay as long as you want. Maude would have wanted it that way.”

“She would also have wanted me to return your hospitality with good manners. At the very least.”

“Your manners are fine, Josh.” She tipped her head to one side, studying him as he emptied packets of hot cocoa mix into a pair of coffee mugs with roosters on them. “But you're getting at something, aren't you?”

“Yeah. How do you feel about guns, Beth?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Guns?” Clearly, it was not the topic she had thought he was working up to. “I don't like them. I don't think anyone should be allowed to have them. And I own one.”

He almost gaped at her. Man, she could turn the tables on him faster than anyone he'd ever met. He'd known, of course. He just hadn't expected her to admit it. “You do?”

She nodded. “A nearly useless little derringer. I had a big
ger one, but it was in the house and I guess it's gone. Don't worry about it being where Bryan can get at it. I'm very careful about that.”

He nodded. “I suppose it's logical you'd have one, given your situation. Do you think you could use it?”

“I've already proven I could.”

He blinked, recalling what he knew about her past, realizing she was right. “So why did you bring up the subject of guns, Josh? You thinking of getting one?”

“I already have one. Two, actually. I thought you should know that.”

She lifted her brows. “Now why would a guy like you feel the need to keep a gun?”

He sighed. “A lot of reasons. Living in the city, I saw a lot. Makes a guy want a little added security.”

She pursed her lips.

“Like you I'm careful. There are trigger locks on them when they're not on me, and I have the only keys. I just thought you ought to know they were in the house.”

She nodded slowly. “Think you could shoot someone, if it ever came down to it?” She watched his face as he thought about how to answer.

“Yeah, I think I could.”

Her eyes narrowed, head tilted just slightly to one side. “Have you?” He frowned at her, and she said, “Have you ever shot anyone, Joshua?”

The question hit hard, virtually knocking the wind out of him. He
had
shot someone. He'd shot
her.

“You have, haven't you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why did you take so long to answer?”

“I was surprised by the question.” He was saved by the teakettle's whistling, so he got up to get it, then brought it to the table and poured the bubbling water into both mugs. “Do you mind my having guns in the house?” He sat down in his chair, stirring his cocoa with a spoon.

“Depends on whose side you're on, I guess.”

Josh stopped stirring, smelling an opportunity. He reached across the table, covered her hand with his. “Yours, Beth. No matter who the enemy is, I'm on your side. Understand?”

Her gaze glued to their joined hands, she shook her head slowly from side to side. “No. I don't think I understand you at all.”

Josh got to his feet, and went around the table. He saw her tremble, saw her tongue dart out to moisten her lips in anticipation. He still had her hand in his, and he used it now to tug her to her feet. When she was standing, he slid his arms around her waist, tugged her gently to him, found she didn't resist. Sliding one hand up her back, over her nape, until it cupped the back of her head, he lowered his own head slowly and kissed her. And when he lifted his head again, he said, “Now do you understand?”

“Even less,” she whispered. “What do you want with me, Joshua?”

He let his lips pull into a gentle smile. “I like you. Maybe…more than like you. I think I'm starting to fall for you, Beth.”

Her brows came together. “You don't even know me.”

He did, he thought. He knew her. She'd been living inside his mind for almost twenty years, a ghost he could never touch. Being here with her, being able to touch her, to feel her living warm skin and taste her breath, just added
to that knowing. He thought he knew her on a level far deeper than he'd ever known anyone. He thought he knew her soul.

Joshua blinked suddenly, reminding himself that this, what he was doing with her right now, tonight, was an act. A confidence scheme, designed to win her trust. He needed her to stop mistrusting everything he did or said, so that he could protect her and keep her alive.

She was staring up at him now, waiting for him to explain. He stared into her eyes, and something twisted in the pit of his stomach. Genuine attraction—because he wasn't a monk or a dead man, after all—and guilt so big it nearly choked him. He managed to force the words out all the same. Maybe he would burn in hell for this, but if he could save her life, it would be worth it.

“Is it really so confusing, Beth? I'm falling in love with you.”

She stared up at him for a moment, her eyes stunned, then suddenly brimming with moisture. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged, and then finally she pulled free of his embrace, turned and hurried from the room.

Josh was still standing there when Bryan said, “You're colder than ice, you know that?”

Josh looked up fast, saw that Bryan had come into the kitchen. “Don't start on me, Bry, not now.”

“How the hell could you do that to her? Especially after what she's been through today?”

He shook his head. “I'm not discussing this with you. It's my job. If I don't win her trust, she could end up dead.”

“And if you do, she's going to end up finding out the truth, and having her heart broken and her entire world torn apart all over again. Jesus, Dad, there has to be a better way.”

“You think I want to mess with her head this way? You think I'm enjoying this or something?”

“Hell, I don't know. You looked to be enjoying it plenty a few seconds ago when I started to walk in here and saw you kissing her.”

“Watch yourself, Bryan. You're walking on thin ice.”

Bryan lowered his head, sighed.

“Did she see you when she went tearing out of here?” Josh asked, tempering his tone a little.

“I doubt it. She looked pretty upset.” He searched his father's face. “You sure this whole thing isn't going to backfire? You're not going to wake up tomorrow to find all our stuff sitting on the porch?”

“It won't backfire.”

Bryan pursed his lips and was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I have to tell you something. And I can't tell you how I know, so don't ask.”

Josh frowned, finally tugging his attention away from the kiss and Beth's reaction to it, not to mention his own unexpected reactions, to focus on his son. “What is it?”

“Someone tried to break in here tonight.”

“What?”

“While we were at the funeral home. A friend of mine saw it, made some noise or something, and apparently scared him off.”

“A friend of yours, huh?”

Bryan didn't elaborate. “My friend wasn't able to see his face, but…he was pretty sure it was a man, from the build. He tried the front door, then went around to the back, but ran off before he could get inside.”

“Hell. That's it, then. It's got to be him. It's got to be Young.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Hell, it's what I thought, too. Just how dangerous is this guy, Dad?”

He looked at his son, knew damn well he was going to have to get the boy out of town. When he thought about Bryan being here in this house alone all day—God, he got chills.

“I was never really sure he'd track her down or I wouldn't have brought you here.” He shook his head. “Young is a killer, but more than that, he's insane. If he
is
around here, he's well hidden—not too tough, with all the tourists in town right now, but still…”

“Not answering the question, Dad.”

Josh licked his lips. “I can't think of anyone more dangerous.”

“That's what I figured.”

“This friend of yours…if Mordecai saw him…”

“He didn't. But thanks. I'll keep an eye out.”

Josh nodded. He didn't tell Bryan he was going to be shipping him out of there first thing tomorrow, because there was no point in starting the argument that might very well erupt if he did. He was going; it was that simple. Maybe if Josh offered him a visit to some of his old friends in California, he wouldn't fight it too hard. Hell, he would probably welcome it.

“Thanks for telling me about this, Bryan. You've been a lot of help on this.”

“I could be more, if you'd just listen. Don't you think Beth ought to know if this guy has tracked her down? Don't you think she ought to be aware of the danger she's in, and that you're here to protect her? How's she going to know to watch her back if she doesn't even know all the facts?”

Josh licked his lips. “I'll think about that. You go on up to bed and try not to worry. I'll stay up tonight, keep an eye on things.”

Bryan nodded. “I can set my alarm, stand watch for a couple of hours later if you want to get some sleep.”

Josh stared at him, still irritated with the boy, but amazed by his offer. “Thanks. I'll give you a holler if I need you.”

Bryan paused a second, then said, “You'll have to knock. I'm gonna keep my door locked tonight, just in case.”

“Okay.”

“Think about telling her, Dad.”

Josh nodded and watched his son go back upstairs to bed. Then he slipped up to his own room, and took the 9 mm from its spot, unlocked and removed the trigger lock and loaded a full clip. He buckled the holster around his shoulder, put the .38 away and went back downstairs to brew a pot of very strong coffee.

 

Beth went to her room, closed the door, sat on her bed and held her head in her hands. What the hell was happening to her cautious, calm life here in this town? Everything had gone crazy—and it seemed to have started with Joshua Kendall's arrival. The next thing she knew, her house had blown up, her belongings had been annihilated, her only friend was dead, and some strange man she didn't even know was falling in love with her.

Or trying to fool her.

And God, she was an idiot, because her heart had raced and her stomach had churned at his words, at his touch. She'd wanted to believe him. It had been so long since any man had felt anything for her, cared about her, even pretended to.

It had been since…

Since Mordecai.

She closed her eyes.

She'd fallen for everything Mordecai had said, lost all sense of judgment, fallen for him so hard she had nearly died because of it. Her baby daughter had nearly died, as well. God, and here she was again, falling for a man when she knew damn well it made no sense. He wasn't being honest with her, she knew that. And it didn't matter that she was attracted to him, that when he kissed her she went molten inside, or that she couldn't stop thinking about him, even now.

He was dangerous. Not just because she didn't know him, not just because he was hiding something, but because she wanted him. God, she wanted him with every breath she drew.

Beth knew her strengths, and, as painful as it was to face them, she knew her weaknesses, too. She wasn't going to let emotion overrule common sense again.

No. Not ever again.

“Not even for you, Joshua Kendall. Whoever the hell you are.”

M
ordecai lowered the night vision binoculars and wiped the tears from his face. The boy had come into the kitchen after that tender kiss. But Mordecai had been too upset to continue the surveillance, even though he still didn't know who had been left behind in the house while the others had gone to Maude Bickham's calling hours.

At the moment, he didn't care. The vision of the stranger kissing his Lizzie had burned all else from his mind. “I'll kill him,” he whispered. “I'll kill him for this.”

You killed the old woman. It didn't break Beth. You destroyed her home, and that only drove her to him.

“I'm far from finished with her. Wait. She'll be working at the school soon. And the boy will be there, as well. I've made it essential. Now that her reputation is ruined, no one will hire her to tutor their children. She'll have to apply for a job, and
teaching is what she does. I'll see to it that the rumors are explained away as soon as she submits an application. She'll be there soon. They'll be mine, then, close to me, day in, day out, and they won't even know.”

The man is not what he seems.

He's up to something. He knows more than he pretends.

You saw him at the funeral parlor that night! Someone was examining the old woman's body. He was involved with that.

He must suspect.

“They'll never find a trace.”

Don't kill him, Mordecai. Not yet. Better to let this thing develop. Let her feelings for him grow until they reach their full power. Only then will taking him from her have the ultimate impact on her.

“I can't,” he whispered.

You must.

“No. God, no, how can I do this? How can I stand by and watch her fall in love with another man? How?”

Let this be a lesson to you, Mordecai. You dared to question your guides. You dared defy our will.

You will destroy her spirit, and then you will kill her, just as you have been instructed to do. That is what has to happen. That is the only part of your mission that involves her. The rest is about the heir. About passing on your powers to the one worthy of receiving them.

“Powers. They're not powers, they're—”

When Abraham was instructed to sacrifice his precious son, Isaac, even he obeyed, Mordecai. Even he. Surely your faith is as strong as his. You will obey Spirit. You will.

“Please, take this cup from me,” Mordecai moaned, lowering his head. His tears were hot, acidic on his skin. His chest spasmed in his anguish. “Please, I can't bear it. Anything else,
yes. Ask me to sacrifice my child, I'll do so. But don't force me to witness Lizzie's betrayal of our love. I can't bear it. I can't!”

You can.

You must.

You will.

And then you will kill her.

He had sunk to his knees in the grass of the old house's back lawn, pleading with Spirit. But it was no use. He'd been stubborn, arrogant, assuming he knew what was best, determined to prove Spirit wrong. This was his punishment. He was living his own private hell.

He would never question Spirit again. And in the meantime, he would do what must be done. For now, he had seen enough. He needed to obey, and obey without question.

The guides had withdrawn for tonight. He felt the emptiness in his mind that only came when they were angry or displeased with him. They wouldn't return before tomorrow. He had been given his orders, anyway. He was to find out who this strange man really was.

Monday

“No way in hell, Dad. No, absolutely not.”

Josh took a deep breath, and Bryan would have bet he was counting silently to ten. Beth was upstairs taking a shower, and Josh was in the kitchen adding to a stack of pancakes and trying not to burn the sausage links. Bryan had just come in, lured by the smell and hoping to fill up a plate big enough to share with Dawn. He'd slept on the floor last night and let her have the bed.

God, it had been good, having her that close to him all night long. He really liked Dawn. There was something special about
her, something he couldn't put a name to, but it was real. And powerful.

So he came down, slipped a spare fork into his back pocket, started filling a plate, and got a bombshell dropped onto his head.

“Look, Bryan,” his father said, “a few days ago, you were wishing me into hell for taking you out of California. Now I'm offering you the chance to go back and you're turning it down?”

“That's about the size of it. So can we move on to a new topic now?”

Josh shook his head as if confused, and flipped pancakes. “I made the arrangements last night. Ticket's waiting at the airport, and the Malones will be expecting you to land at 5:00 p.m. You've got a bit of a layover in Chicago, but—”

“I'm not going.” Bryan couldn't even believe the way his father was trying to run his life.

“It'll only be for a week or two,” Josh said. “I thought you'd be glad.”

“Was I glad the first time you decided to move me across the country without consulting me first?”

Josh set the spatula down and turned around to face him. Bryan was angry as hell. “Bry, if Mordecai Young is in town, your life is in danger.”

No crap, Bryan thought. “So is Beth's. So is yours.”

“It's
her
problem and
my
job. You don't need to be here.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I'm not willing to put you at risk, Bryan. I'm your father. I can't let my job put your life in jeopardy.”

Now he was trying to be father of the year. Great. “I can help, Dad. You already said yourself how much help I've
been—you said I was doing better than you were on this thing.”

“And that was the truth. But, Bryan—”

“I'm almost eighteen. I'm not a kid, I'm an adult.”

“Doesn't matter. You're going, and that's final. And you may as well get packed, because we leave for the airport in two hours. That'll just give me time to run to the hardware store for some dead bolts and get them installed on these doors.”

Bryan glared at him, but it seemed to have no impact. He knew his father well enough to know that once his mind was made up, there was little hope of changing it. God, how had his mother ever lived with the man?

Bryan turned away with a sigh, poured maple syrup all over his plate, and carried it with him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. When he passed Beth's room he could hear the shower running. He kept on going to his own room, tapped twice to let Dawn know it was him, and then went in.

“God, that smells good,” she said. She was wearing an oversize hockey shirt and a pair of white ankle socks. They were what she had slept in, and her hair was long and loose and hanging over her shoulders, and he thought he'd never seen anything better looking in his life.

He handed her the plate with the fork on it and tugged the extra one from his pocket. She sat on the bed and dug in. He sat down beside her and took a bite or two himself.

“Something's wrong,” Dawn said after cleaning half the stack. “You aren't eating.”

“My father has a ticket to San Francisco waiting with my name on it. I'm supposed to be packing. He's driving me to the airport in two hours.”

She nodded. “It's just as well. Mordecai's a maniac.”

“No way am I going and leaving you here alone.”

She smiled. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

“Yeah, but what can I do about it?”

She shrugged. “You mind getting into heaps of trouble?”

“Not particularly. Why, you have a plan?”

She nodded. “Those two are going to be in a hurry when they drop you at the airport. Maude's graveside service is this afternoon, and the airport is a good hour away. So let them walk you as far as security, where they probably can't go through anyway, and then say goodbye. You go on to the gate alone.”

“And?”

“I'll walk into town and grab my Jeep from the parking lot where I left it. Then I'll follow you guys to the airport. When I see them leave, I'll let you know the coast is clear, you come out, and we drive back here.”

“And then what?”

She shrugged. “And then we catch a killer who should have been in prison a long time ago.”

He blinked slowly, wondering why he was feeling a rush of adrenaline instead of any hint of nervousness. “How are we going to do that?”

“We'll figure that out on the drive back from the airport. You got a cell phone?”

“Yep.”

“Me, too. So we're set, then.”

He smiled at her. “You're brilliant, you know that?”

“Mmm-hmm. Now you'd better eat the rest of this, then pack a bag just to make it look convincing.”

He took the plate from her, his appetite suddenly restored.

 

Beth couldn't help the emotional storm that surged up in her when she watched Joshua say goodbye to his son at the airport. He hugged Bryan—a massive, manly hug that nonetheless conveyed a wealth of feeling. Even Bryan seemed moved.

When the two men pulled apart, he said, “It'll be all right, Dad. Try not to worry.”

“I'm not worried. I
am
gonna miss you, though.”

“Yeah, me, too.” He turned to Beth. “Take care, Beth.”

“You too, Bry.”

Nodding, Bryan spun around and took his turn in line, going through the metal detector. On the other side, he grabbed up his backpack, the only luggage he'd taken, and headed around a corner toward the gates and out of sight.

Josh didn't turn to face her. He remained where he was, with his back to her, and she thought his shoulders slumped forward a little.

She touched his shoulder, then moved around in front of him, but he lowered his head fast.

“He'll be all right, you know.”

“I know.”

She was trying to hold on to her anger with Josh, because she just
knew
he was lying to her yet again. According to him, this trip was a gift for Bryan, an effort to show him that his father understood his feelings and homesickness. And though Bryan was doing a great job of acting, Beth didn't believe for a minute he really wanted to go.

She was sure Josh was sending Bryan away to protect him. And that could only be because Josh knew something she didn't. She would be damned if she didn't get the truth out of him before this day ended.

But not right now. Because right now, when he lifted his head to look at her, she saw traces of moisture in his eyes.

It did her in. “You okay?”

He nodded, then turned with her to walk out of the airport. “Fine.”

“No, you're not. I know how it is, you know. I've had to say goodbye to my Dawn twice now. Once in the middle of chaos, with gunshots and fire all around me. And a second time when I left her because the government said I had to. It's heart wrenching.”

“It's torture.”

She slid an arm around his waist, and he put his around her shoulders and held her beside him as they walked out to her waiting car. They'd left the pickup at home. “And now we've got the funeral to get through,” she said.

“We'll have time to get home, change clothes, grab a bite of lunch.”

“I don't think I could eat.”

“I think you have to, Beth. You skipped breakfast.”

She lowered her head. “Fear makes me queasy, Josh.”

“You don't have anything to be afraid of. Not as long as you stick by me.”

She fastened her seat belt, started her engine and bit her lip, vowing not to bring her questions up now, while he was still bleeding over the painful separation from his son.

An hour later, though, she had lost the ability to censor herself.

“You say I have nothing to be afraid of. But it's a lie, isn't it? I have everything to be afraid of, Josh. And I think you know that better than anyone.”

He frowned at her.

“You sent your son away because you believe Mordecai has finally tracked me down.”

“I don't—”

“Yes, you do. It's not a conclusion I haven't already reached on my own, Joshua.”

He lowered his head.

“I've been through all Maude's things, all her photo albums by now. Even the ones she had packed away.” She drove as she spoke, taking the exit that would lead them into Blackberry. “Every last one of them. There's not a shot of you or of Bryan anywhere. And the woman had pictures of everyone she ever knew. Every pet she ever had and every town she ever visited.”