Deception (6 page)

“Y-yes. Of course.”

“Tell you what. You go ahead and I’ll meet you over there in a bit.”

“Sounds good.” Mia pasted on a cheery smile and then slumped in the car when he walked away
. Damn, girl. Why are you pushing away the one good thing left in this town?

Mia drove up the coast with the window down, allowing the wind to tangle the strands of her hair. She eyed the rearview mirror more than a few times, hoping to catch a glimpse of Dylan’s squad car following her. He’d wanted to come along, but she’d implied she wanted him to back off.

Did she?

Not at all. She just wanted Dylan to take her seriously now. She’d gotten off to a bad start by being forced to confess how she’d set up Marissa and married Peter just to get her hands on a house. No wonder he felt she still needed saving from herself.

Coral Cove Drive looked a lot less spooky by daylight. The house didn’t look much better, though. In fact, it looked worse. It didn’t even have that haunted vibe going for it in the harsh light of day that exposed all its flaws and blemishes.

She rolled to a stop in front of the house and scrambled out, dragging her canvas bag with her. She pushed open the front door and poked her head inside before entering.

She expelled a sigh of relief when she saw the broken wood hanging from the balustrade. That was what she’d seen last night; that was what sent her scurrying for safety. Not that her rental car had proved to be safe.

She wrinkled her nose at the dust and decay in the house. Could anyone ever really restore the house? Would she want anyone to restore it?

She wandered around the downstairs, taking notes on a yellow legal pad. She jiggled the handle of the basement door, dreading the trip downstairs. Then decided to put it off for another time.

She climbed the stairs like she had lead weights on her feet. Reaching the second-story landing, she peered over the railing. Why exactly had she wanted this house?

Why had she wanted it enough to trick her sister and marry a man she didn’t love? Had she really expected Dylan to offer himself in Peter’s stead?

She threw open the doors to all the bedrooms and bathrooms. After taking inventory of the items in these rooms, she dragged herself up to the third floor.

Rosie Grant, the mother of Kylie Grant, the same psychic who had sent her the email about Marissa, had hung herself from the third-floor landing a few years ago.

Mia shivered and scooted past the spot where Rosie had jumped. But more terror awaited her at the end of the hallway. A gaping hole was all that remained of the cavity where some local man had walled up a body.

What was it about this place? It drove people to madness.

She took more notes on the third floor, and then sank into a chair, facing a set of double doors that opened on to a balcony facing the sea.

Crossing her arms behind her head, she stretched her legs in front of her. The only thing that made sense right now was Dylan Reese. If he wanted to play knight in shining armor, who was she to stop him?

But she didn’t want them to fall into their old, familiar pattern. She wanted him to see her in a new light, for the woman she’d become. Because now maybe she could meet him on equal footing.

She cocked her head. She could hear a rumbling of voices raised above the rush of the ocean beneath her.

Unless the Vincents were having one heck of a big party, there couldn’t be that many people gathered on this block.

She peeled herself from the chair and scuffed to the balcony. Here the voices came cascading along the sea breeze. Shouts. Yells. Jeers.

Mia jogged down the spiral stairs that led from the balcony to the rocks and then made her way to the front of the house.

She stumbled to a halt, her jaw dropping. Hordes of people were gathered around Columbella House, carrying signs and yelling at each other.

Then a few of them spotted her and started yelling at her. She set her jaw and marched to the front of the house.

She zeroed in on the closest person. “What is going on? What are you people doing here?”

“We just want to make sure you do the right thing.”

Before Mia had a chance to respond, another person pushed her way forward and wagged her finger. “Don’t try to force yourself in here and influence her.”

Sirens sliced through the air, but the noise didn’t faze the crowd. Two police cars pulled up to the curb, and Mia blew out a breath when she saw Dylan climb out of one of the cars. He cut a swath through the mob, and they parted for him.

“What’s going on here?”

Mia flung out her arms. “I was inside, and apparently, these people just spontaneously gathered here.”

He flicked a sign next to him. “Doesn’t look spontaneous to me.”

“This is a peaceful protest, Chief,” a voice yelled from the back of the crowd.

“It doesn’t look peaceful to me, and unless someone can produce a permit, you’re going to have to disperse.”

A low chant started slowly. “Restore, restore, restore, restore.”

Another thrumming began from the other side. “Rebuild, rebuild, rebuild, rebuild.”

The words merged in a hissing and bubbling cacophony. The faces swam before Mia so that they no longer resembled people but just working mouths and angry eyes.

Then out of nowhere, an object came hurtling from the belly of the crowd and Mia felt a sting on her chin.

Chapter Five

Mia staggered against his shoulder and gasped. Dylan’s arm went around her like second nature. “Are you okay?”

She turned a pale face to him and blood dripped from her chin next to the scuff from the air bag.

“What the hell?”

Touching the wound with trembling fingers, she said, “Someone threw something.”

Dylan scanned the ground and saw a sharp-edged rock at Mia’s feet. Anger coursed through his veins. “Baxter, get these people out of here.”

He tucked Mia against his side and guided her to the dilapidated porch while his officers began blasting at the crowd through bullhorns.

Dylan held up the rock. He didn’t need a bullhorn. “If I find out who threw this rock, I’m bringing you up on assault charges.”

The crowd took on a frightened aspect, as if it feared its own strength. Slowly it melted away, but nobody stepped forward with information about who threw the rock.

Dylan crouched beside Mia. “Do you want me to call the paramedics?”

“For a cut on the chin?” She shook her head and her silky, dark hair slipped over her shoulder. “I’m okay.”

Why did she have to keep trying to prove her toughness to him? He’d known her since childhood, and she’d always been a leader with a spine of steel. Of course, sometimes she’d led her followers, including his sister, into all kinds of craziness, but that only added to her charm.

“I know you don’t have running water in that house or anything close to a clean bandage, so you’re going to have to get that cleaned up and dressed.”

She pointed across the street. “Is Michelle Girard back yet?”

“No, not yet. School doesn’t start for another week.”

More sirens wailed down the street and an ambulance swung into view. Dylan shrugged. “I guess Officer Brady called it in.”

“Those EMTs are going to get tired of being at my beck and call.”

“Stop talking. You’re making it bleed more.”

The paramedics hustled from their van, bags in hand. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

Mia rolled her eyes, trying to be the tough girl again. “It’s just a cut on the chin.”

Dylan hefted the rock in his palm. “It was a shot to the face with this. When did you have your last tetanus shot?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” The EMT snapped open his bag, all business.

Dylan stepped back and allowed the paramedics to do their jobs. Mia insisted she didn’t need to be carted to the hospital, but she sat patiently as they cleaned and dressed her wound.

He eyed the stragglers, as Brady darted among them, notepad in hand. Grady turned to Dylan and shrugged, and Dylan motioned him over.

“Nothing?”

“Nobody is admitting to seeing anything, but I think they all got spooked when their little protest turned violent.”

Dylan shoved a hand in his pocket and half turned toward Columbella House. “This house does things to people. Do you believe in evil auras or bad vibes?”

He’d expected his officer to snort at him and call him crazy, but Grady slid a glance at the old house and clenched his jaw.

“Usually not, but this house? Bad news all the way around.” He hunched in and cupped a hand around his mouth. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m on the side of the folks who want this thing torn down and turned into a resort hotel.”

“You don’t think the bad vibes would persist?”

“You have a point there.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Mia, a white bandage plastered to her chin, strolled toward them.

Dylan exchanged a guilty look with Grady and then reached out and nudged Mia’s chin. “You don’t need stitches?”

“It was just a scratch.” She rolled up her sleeve. “I did get a shot, though, thanks to you.”

He inspected the red dot on her upper arm. “I think the paramedics would’ve thought of that all on their own.”

“Do you have the rock, Chief? Maybe we should take it in as…uh, evidence.” Grady colored up to roots of his hair.

Dylan dug the sharp-edged rock from his pocket and held it out. “Sure, but you’re not going to get any prints off it, and I don’t think anyone’s going to step forward and claim it as their very own rock.”

Grady took it anyway. “Maybe a witness will come forward in secret. These were all friends and neighbors out here. Nobody’s going want to be labeled a rat.”

“Even if that rock could’ve seriously injured Mia?” Dylan shook his head. “If so, this town doesn’t have the values it did when I was growing up here.”

Grady pocketed the rock and returned to his squad car. The few remaining onlookers disappeared when the ambulance rounded the corner.

Dylan turned to Mia. “Do you need to go back inside the house?”

“I left my bag in there.” She turned and put a tentative foot on the first step of the crumbling porch.

“Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Uh, police business.”

Actually, he didn’t have much to do back at the station. Mia had made it clear she didn’t want his hovering presence, and he didn’t want his own issues to get in the way of his relationship with her.

Relationship? They had no relationship. She’d returned to Coral Cove for business, and she’d be back in New York once she made a decision.

And he’d returned to Coral Cove for…redemption? Whatever his personal reasons, he couldn’t drag Mia into the middle of them.

“You
were
here when someone decided to chuck a rock at me, so it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway.”

“If I had come earlier, I would’ve seen the protest forming and I would’ve dispersed the crowd before things got sketchy.”

Mia shrugged and picked her way over the last two porch steps. She’d left the front door open, and she pushed at it. The squealing hinges made Dylan clench his teeth.

Light from the open door and the windows streamed across the floors and shrouded furniture. He sneezed from the dust.

“Pretty bad, huh?” Mia grabbed her canvas bag from a chair and cruised to the front door. “I’ve had enough for one day.”

As Mia locked up, Dylan faced the street and saw a blue compact car squeal around the corner.

“What kind of car is your ex-husband driving?”

“I have no clue.” She hitched the big bag over her shoulder. “Why, did you see him?”

“If he’s driving a blue compact, yeah.” Dylan narrowed his eyes in the direction where the little car huffed off. “Maybe he was here at the protest.”

“He could’ve been. There was a sea of faces out there, all blurred together.” She hit the remote on her car and yanked open the driver’s side door. “I could see Peter leaving the voodoo doll easier than I could imagine him chucking the rock. Peter is not a rough-and-tumble kinda guy.”

“Money can make people do crazy things. Look at you.”

Mia had been tossing her bag on to the passenger seat and jerked up at his words. “Wait a minute. I didn’t trick Marissa and marry Peter for money…it was for this house.”

“And the house doesn’t represent money? Who are you kidding, Mia? It sits on a prime piece of beachfront property. I know a few developers who would kill to get their hands on this lot.”

She stomped her foot. “It wasn’t like that, Dylan. Both Marissa and I had plenty of money. It was just a game to get the house. And I won.”

He ground his teeth together. He hadn’t meant to go all judgmental on her. That was the old Dylan. The Dylan who used to believe he could do no wrong. Make no mistake.

That
Dylan died with Melody Firenzi.

Dragging in a breath, he traced his fingertip along her bandage. “I know that. You and Marissa always played by different rules, and you both knew those rules.”

Mia bit her lip. “I thought we both knew the rules, but then Marissa disappeared. I assumed she’d figured out what I had done and wrote me off.”

“Or she never figured it out and felt too ashamed and guilty to contact you while she was having fun with Paolo, the Brazilian Adonis.”

She slugged his arm. “His name was Raoul.”

“I’m sorry.” He held up his hands. “Can I take you out to dinner tonight to make up for accusing you of money lust?”

He held his breath like a boy asking a girl out on a first date. He’d never tried to date Mia. She’d never seemed interested, and he didn’t want to get in line to have his heart broken by one of the St. Regis twins. The twins already had a long list.

“Sure, sure, let’s grab a bite.”

His chest deflated. At least she’d accepted, although she was already downplaying the date’s significance. And why shouldn’t she? They were two old friends grabbing a bite to eat. She had to eat.

Then she’d go back to New York.

“I’ll pick you up at the Sea View around seven.”

“Sounds good.”

The growl of a car’s engine had them both swiveling their heads toward the street. A silver Escalade cruised to a stop at the curb, and Mayor Tyler Davis poked his head out the window.