Deadly Obsession (8 page)

While she peeled wallpaper, the kitten played with the debris, swatting at curls of paper and dust balls. Fifteen minutes into stripping the rose room, as she had named it, a light tap on the door pulled her out of her musings. “Come in.”

The man she'd been dreaming about appeared in the doorway, carrying a large box. “You've been busy.” He stared at the walls, his gaze returning to her face. “And you have a smudge on your nose.”

She stared cross-eyed at the tip of her nose.

Chance balanced the big box in one hand and brushed the smudge off her nose with his thumb. “There.”

He tipped his head toward the box. “I found a security system at the hardware store. It's simple and not very expensive, but something is better than nothing where safety is concerned.”

“You didn't have to do that.” She rubbed her hands down the sides of her jeans and grabbed the kitten as it made a dash for the open door. “Let me pay you for it.”

“I'd like to consider it a housewarming gift.”

“I can't accept something like that from a stranger.”

“I insist. It will give me peace of mind knowing you have something better than a kitten to guard you at night. Besides, we can't be considered strangers. We've kissed.”

She hugged the kitten to her chest and stared at this man she'd only just met and smiled. “You confuse me.”

“How's that?”

“You just do.” She let out a long breath. “I'll see if Mitchell can fit this into his wiring schedule.”

“I'll help with the installation. It will make it go faster and save you money.”

She tilted her head. “So you're a secret agent and an electrician?”

“Let's just say I've done my share of wiring.”

She stared at him hard. “I won't ask what you wired. I'm afraid of the answer.”

“I promise I'll only wire the security system. Nothing else. And Mitchell can inspect my work.”

“Okay.” Jillian chuckled. “I guess I'll have that security system.” She poked a finger at his chest. “But I still want to pay you for it.”

“We'll talk later. Right now, I want to get a start before it gets too dark.”

“I can help if you and Mitchell tell me what to do.”

“You're on.” He led the way down the stairs.

Jillian found Mitchell in the basement adding wire and fixtures that would eventually light the entire room. A large working light stood to the side, powered by the generator outside, giving him just enough light to see what he was doing.

Mitchell climbed down from the ladder he was working on and brushed the dust off his hands. “Oh, good. A security system is exactly what you need, especially if you're going to live here alone.” He took the box from Chance and studied the writing on the side. “I have heavy-duty wire in my truck, but the electronics in this unit will work fine for now. You might want to upgrade eventually.”

“So you'll do it?” Jillian asked.

Mitchell rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don't know. I need to finish this room, rewire the upstairs and install the recessed lighting in the kitchen.” He looked around. “I'd hoped to turn on the main breaker this evening.”

“I've done some wiring,” Chance said. “I can help.”

“With direction, I can help, too,” Jillian offered.

“Fortunately, the drywall guys haven't repaired the walls where I rewired each room.” He nodded. “I'd feel better knowing you had a security system installed. Okay. Let me get you started and you can run the wire. I'll install the controls.”

Jillian and Chance worked side by side, running wire through the walls to the windows, doors and corners. When Mitchell finished the basement and kitchen, he installed the control panel, tapped into the wires for the new phone line and set up cameras in strategic corners inside and outside the house. They were able to complete the wiring and electronics installation. All they needed was for the electricity to be turned on and the phone lines to be connected by the telephone company.

All the time, Jillian couldn't help admiring how good Chance was with his hands. And how sexy those hands were. The more she worked with him, the more she wondered how those hands would feel on naked skin.

Holy hell.
She had to get Chance and his sexy bare chest and capable hands out of her naughty thoughts.

“Did you say something?” Chance paused in his effort to thread the wire through a hole that had been drilled through a stud.

“No, no, I didn't.” Her cheeks burning, Jillian bent her head and unrolled more of the wire from the spool.

Mitchell entered the room. “I'm ready to turn on the main breaker to test out the lights. We can finish the security system tomorrow. I need to get home to my wife.”

“The timing is good. We need to make a dash into town before they roll up the sidewalks,” Chance said.

“We do?” Jillian asked.

“Yes.” Chance nodded to Mitchell. “Let's light up this place.”

“On it.” Mitchell left the room and headed for the pantry in the kitchen, where he'd updated and upgraded the breaker box, bringing it into the current century.

Jillian held her breath. The light from outside had faded, and they were working in near dusk conditions.

A loud click and then several more, and lights came on in some of the rooms.

Jillian clapped her hands, her spirits rising. “I feel like there really is a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Let's check all the rooms.” Chance flipped the switch in the living room and the recessed lights gave it a soft glow.

Jillian ran to the dining room and flipped the switch. The few recessed lights came on. Mitchell would add a separate chandelier when the flooring and painting were done.

“How's it looking?” Mitchell called out from the kitchen.

“Great so far,” Jillian responded. “We'll check the second story.”

Chance started up the stairs. Jillian snatched up the kitten and followed. He went right, she went left. They met in the master bedroom.

Jillian couldn't tone down the smile on her face. “I'm that much closer to moving into my very own house. I can't tell you how great that will be.” Sharing the moment with Chance seemed natural. When he opened his arms, she stepped into them.

Too bad he wasn't going to be around to see the house when it was completed. Her happiness dimmed. For a long moment, she remained in Chance's arms, soaking up his warmth. Then she moved away. “Mitchell will need to be going, and I need to pay him for all of the work he's done so far.”

“I want to get to town before the local library closes.” He followed her out of the bedroom. “You're welcome to come with me.”

“Did you need to use a fax or copier machine? I have one of each in my office.”

“No, I thought we'd see what we could find out about this house.”

“That's right. I meant to do some homework and look up its history. I'd really like to put an end to the rumors that this house is haunted.” As much as she liked to think she was open-minded about a lot of things, believing in ghosts wasn't one of them. And ghosts didn't use spray paint to vandalize buildings. “Let's go.”

Chapter 8

C
hance waited while Jillian wrote a check to Mitchell. The contractor and his crew locked the generator in the house, stacked the lumber neatly and four of the five men climbed into the truck's crew cab.

The contractor yelled, “Daryl, it's time to go!”

Jillian was standing with Mitchell, holding the kitten. She glanced around the yard.

The fifth man of the construction crew was nowhere to be seen.

“I don't know where he gets off to,” Bob said, “but he's always disappearing.”

“I'll check out back,” she offered.

“I've got it.” Chance hurried around the exterior of the big house, searching for the missing man. When he'd made it around the back and was starting for the other side, he still hadn't found Daryl. “Daryl!” he called out.

He and Jillian had made a final sweep of the house before Bob's crew locked the generator inside. Daryl hadn't been in the house.

Rustling in the woods behind the house alerted Chance's attention. A big man, wearing faded denim overalls and a blue flannel shirt, emerged from the woods.

“Are you Daryl?” Chance asked.

“Yup.” Daryl carried a ball of fluff in his hand. “I found a kitten.”

“Your boss is waiting for you. They're heading into town.”

“I wanted to give Miss Jillian the kitten.”

When Chance looked closer at the kitten, it appeared to be a replica of the one he'd found in the cellar of the house. “She's around front.”

Daryl plodded along. A big man with a tiny kitten in his meaty fists. Not all men liked cats, but apparently, Daryl did.

A horn honked and Bob called out, “Daryl! Either you come now or you can walk back to town.”

Chance stepped into the front yard. Mitchell had left and Jillian was taking the second kitten from Daryl. “Thank you, Daryl.” She juggled the two squirming fur balls and shot a smile at her construction foreman. “Bob, I'll give Daryl a ride back to town.”

“Okay. We'll pick him up at the café in the morning.” Bob drove off with the other construction workers.

“Since we're going the same direction, we can ride together. If that's all right with you.” Chance didn't like the idea of Jillian riding alone with Daryl. Not that the man had been anything but nice to her. Given the fact someone had locked her in the basement and vandals had desecrated the house with paint, Jillian couldn't be too careful.

“Are you sure?” She glanced across the furry creatures. “I don't want anything else to happen to your rental.”

“I don't mind leaving it here. The damage is already done.”

“I might need you to drive, since my hands appear to be quite full.” She laughed. “I didn't know I'd inherited a family of kittens when I bought the house.” A frown creased her brow. “I wonder if there are any more.”

“Two. Only two,” Daryl said. “Can I ride shotgun?”

“Sure.” Jillian piled the kittens on top of each other, dug the keys out of her pocket and tossed them to Chance. “I'll just sit in the back and keep these two out of your way.”

Dressed in dusty jeans and a red flannel shirt and with her hair pulled back in a messy bun, Jillian couldn't have been prettier. Gone was the sophisticated real estate agent and in her place was a real, flesh-and-blood girl next door with two gray tabby kittens snuggled beneath her chin.

Chance found himself wanting something he could never have—a home, a woman just like Jillian and a life filled with sunshine and rewarding work fixing up a house they both could love.

Unfortunately, that would never work for him. As long as he still had the nightmares, he couldn't be the kind of man a woman like Jillian needed.

Chance climbed into the driver's seat of Jillian's Jeep, adjusted it to fit his long legs and waited for Daryl to get in and buckle up.

“Where are we taking you, Daryl?” he asked.

“Mama picks me up at the café.”

Chance shot a glance at Jillian's reflection in the rearview mirror.

“The Seaside Café.” She smoothed a hand over a kitten. “You probably passed it on your way through town. Head into Cape Churn. I'll tell you where to turn.”

The drive into town only took ten minutes, most of which was slow going on the bumpy gravel driveway. Once they reached the highway, it was smooth sailing all the way to the parking lot in front of the café. The sun angled toward the horizon, turning the sky and bay to fire.

Daryl got out at the Seaside Café and waved at Jillian in the backseat.

“Did you want to join me up front?” Chance asked.

“I'll just stay back here.” Jillian pointed ahead. “The library is two blocks down on the right. It closes in twenty minutes, so we'd better hurry.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He winked and shifted into Drive. “What's the story on Daryl?”

“From what I know, he's mentally challenged. As far as I can tell, he's harmless. Most folks look out for him.”

“That's good to know. Is this the place?” Chance slowed in front of an old brick building and parked.

“This is it.” Jillian pulled the two kittens free of her shirt and placed them on the backseat.

Chance got out and held the door for her.

In the library they stopped at the front desk, where Rita Sims was stacking returned books on a cart. “We close in twenty minutes,” she reminded them.

“We'll try to be quick,” Jillian promised. “Could you point to the local newspaper archives?”

“Sure. What are you looking for?”

“I'm curious about my house,” Jillian said. “I'd like to find the news articles from seventeen years ago.”

Mrs. Sims frowned. “Reading through all of those will take longer than twenty minutes.”

“We'd like to get a start, if you don't mind. We'll leave when it's time to lock up. Oh, and we gave Daryl a ride into town. He's waiting for you at the café.”

She paused with a book in her hand. “Why didn't he ride with Bob?”

“Daryl was busy bringing me a kitten.” Jillian smiled. “We didn't mind giving him a lift into town.”

“Still, he needs structure.” The lines on Mrs. Sims's forehead deepened in the grooves. “He forgets things when he doesn't stay in his routine, and he needs to keep this job.”

“I'm sorry,” Jillian said. “I didn't think it would matter who brought him to the café. I'll keep it in mind in the future.”

“I should hope so.” She pointed to the computers lining the walls. “The archives have been scanned and digitized. There are instructions next to the computers.” Mrs. Sims pushed the cart away, muttering, “Kittens. That boy is always collecting things. I don't know where he keeps them.”

Jillian led the way to the computer bay.

Chance followed. “Is she always that gruff?”

“I hadn't really noticed, but I guess she is somewhat abrupt.” Jillian sat at one of the computers.

Chance sat next to her. It took a few valuable minutes to find the archives and the year they were looking for.

Chance clicked on January. “I'll take the first six months.”

“I'll take July through December.”

For the next ten minutes, they were silent, skimming through articles until Chance found a front-page article with the caption Search Continues for Missing Girl.

Chance's pulse kicked up a notch. “I think I've found something.”

“I'm sorry, folks,” Mrs. Sims called out. “I need to close the library and lock the doors.”

“We're wrapping it up now,” Jillian responded. To Chance, she said, “Print it out. We can take it with us and read it later.”

“It requires change.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out the right amount of coins, feeding them into the machine. Then he hit the print button and pushed back his chair. The pages printed out quickly. He grabbed them, hooked Jillian's arm and smiled at Mrs. Sims as they exited the library.

* * *

Once outside, Jillian took the pages from him. “You have the keys, you can drive.”

“Back to the B and B?”

Jillian slid into the Jeep, settled the kittens in her lap and glanced at the clock on the dash. “No. I told Molly not to hold dinner for me since I was going to be working at the house. We can go to the Seaside Café and grab a bite while we read through this article.”

Chance drove to the café and parked. Jillian settled the kittens on a towel in the backseat. They entered, finding Daryl seated at the counter on a stool.

“Jillian, how are the house renovations coming along?” A gray-haired woman wearing an apron and carrying a coffeepot stepped out from behind the counter.

“Hi, Nora.” Jillian grinned. “The electricity is on.”

“That's a step in the right direction.” Nora held up the pot. “Coffee?”

“I'd love a cup,” Chance said.

“Nora—” Jillian turned to Chance “—this is Chance McCall, Nova's best man. He got in yesterday for the wedding.”

“Welcome to Cape Churn.” Nora set two mugs on a table and poured coffee into them. “Are you staying in town or at the B and B?”

Chance held Jillian's chair for her and then sat. “I'm staying with Molly and Nova at the B and B.”

“I hear there's going to be quite the crowd. I can't wait for the wedding. The last one we had was Gabe and Kayla's. They make such a good couple.” Nora took a pad and pencil out of a pocket. “Are you two just having coffee or are you here for dinner?”

“Dinner.” Jillian sat back in her seat. “I'll have the fresh catch of the day, blackened.”

“I'll have the same. Could I get a salad and baked potato to go with it?”

Nora nodded. “Sour cream and chives?”

“Only butter.”

“Got it.” Nora left them with the fragrant brew.

About that time, Mrs. Sims poked her head through the door of the café. “Daryl.”

Daryl swiveled on his seat and glanced behind him. “Coming.” He climbed down from the seat and followed his mother out the door.

Chance lifted his mug and sipped his coffee. He watched Jillian's face as she read the first page of the article. She passed it to him and continued on to the next page. He read quickly and held out his hand for the next page. Jillian waited for him to finish.

Nora arrived with two bowls. “Here are your salads. Your dinners will be out in a few more minutes.”

Setting the papers to the side, Jillian laid her napkin in her lap. “Thank you, Nora.”

“Whatcha reading?” Nora asked. “Tell me it's none of my business if you don't want me to know. I'm just a busybody.”

“Damn right she is.” An older man walked up behind her and hugged her around the middle. “Is my wife interrupting your date?”

“We're not on a date,” Jillian was quick to correct the man. She couldn't help the heat rising up in her cheeks. “Chance, this is Tom Taggart, Nora's husband and the chief of the Cape Churn Police Department.” She explained Chance's connection to Nova and glanced at the papers. “We were researching the history of the house I bought.”

“The old Thompson place?” he asked, his brows furrowing. “What did you want to know?”

“People say it's haunted,” Jillian said.

“Nonsense. No one I know of died in the house. But I'll bet that's why it never sold. Rumors can be damned destructive.”

“We did a little digging in the newspaper archives and found this article about a missing girl.” Chance handed the pages to the chief. “Can you tell us anything about it?”

Taggart held the papers up, his frown deepening. “I was a patrolman back then. I remember helping in the search for that little girl. We had people from all over the state come in to search. Spent a week combing the woods on the path from the school to her house. We never found any sign of her. And it started raining before we could get the tracking dogs in.”

Jillian pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. She pushed past the pain. “The article said they thought someone might have snatched her.”

“Had to have been. She was gone for over thirty days. We'd given up hope. Some of the local business owners donated money for a sizable reward for finding her. Her mother, Sarah, blamed herself for letting her daughter walk home from school. She never gave up. Then thirty days later, the little girl just showed up.”

“Showed up?” Chance shook his head. “From where?”

The chief held up his hands, palms up. “We don't know.”

Nora sighed. “Little Julia walked into her house and collapsed in her mother's arms. Sarah brought her to the Cape Churn Hospital.”

Tom continued. “Other than being dehydrated and a little thinner than she'd been when she went missing, she appeared to be physically fine.”

Nora lowered her voice. “They did one of those rape kits on her, but she didn't show any sign of sexual abuse.”

“Where had she been?” Jillian asked.

“That's just it.” Tom shook his head. “When she woke up, she couldn't remember anything about what had happened to her. No amount of questioning by the social workers or psychologists could unlock the story from her mind. They said she had some kind of amnesia.”

“Poor kid.” Jillian stared at the pages, her eyes glistening. “Who would abduct a child like that and hold her hostage for thirty days?”

“We might never know,” Nora said. “It was kind of scary. Everyone with children kept them on short leashes after that. Whoever took her had to have been someone from Cape Churn.”

Nora shook her head. “Sarah Thompson couldn't stand the thought of the abductor still walking free. She was so afraid he'd come back for Julia, she packed her things and left with her daughter. Some say they moved to Portland. But I looked, hoping to send them a Christmas card and ask how the little one was. I never found Sarah Thompson in Portland. It's as though she disappeared.”