Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) (6 page)

No more worrying that the knock on the door of her hotel might be him or that the delivery at the front desk wasn’t some clothes she’d ordered to replace the ones she’d had to leave behind.

If he wasn’t here yet, he would be soon.

He was too good at tracking her down, although she doubted there was much
tracking
going on now. Once she’d crossed the line into Mississippi, he’d have figured it out.

He’d last called two days ago, when she’d left Memphis. She hadn’t answered, but that hadn’t stopped him from sending her a text. No words, just a picture, and she’d been torn between rage and revulsion.

He still had those pictures. Or copies of them, stashed somewhere on a thumb drive or something, after all this time.

She’d hurled her phone on the ground, smashing it in a fit of misery, fear, and nausea.

She’d bought another phone, one of those cheap, pay-as-you-go phones, and she’d gone online in the truck stop, using her laptop to activate it. Now she had a phone with a number he didn’t know.

For a while.

And she was home.

He’d show up here, she had no doubt of that, but this was
home
. She had family here. Roots.

But first … she had to figure out how in the hell to fix everything she’d fucked up.

*   *   *

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the … oh, my goodness.”

Neve smiled, feeling out of place, but she wouldn’t let it show.

That was the trick, you never let it show, no matter what.

The woman who came bustling around the nearly finished counter was the closest thing she’d had to a mother for the majority of her life, and Neve found herself already battling tears. She braced herself for the hug that would smell of orange blossoms and too much perfume.

It did.

Sniffling, she wrapped her arms around Ella Sue’s neck. “Hi, Mrs. Daltry.”

“It’s Mrs. Pendleton now. That no-account fool Billy ran off and I divorced him.” Ella Sue leaned back and smiled. She was sixty if she was a day, but her face was unlined, smooth and warm, the color of coffee laced with just a touch of cream. She winked and added, “I married his accountant and we took over the business Billy thought he’d have to shut down. We’ll be able to sell it in five years and move to Lake Tahoe, if we want.”

Neve arched a brow. “You’d never leave Treasure.”

“Of course not.” Ella Sue lifted a hand, cupped Neve’s face. “My baby looks worn out.”

Neve covered Ella Sue’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. “I’ve been driving the past few days. That would wear anybody out.”

Ella Sue eyed her shrewdly and Neve suspected she wanted to say more, but chose not to. “I heard you were here last night … I hoped you’d show up at Ferry.” Then she smiled. “But you’re here now. You’ll come home. I’m making your favorite for dinner and I’ve already had my Aneila ready your room.”

Relief gripped Neve’s heart. “You’re still at the house.”

“Of course I am.” Ella Sue sniffed. “Like anybody else could handle the lot of you. I’ll call Aneila, though, make sure she has everything ready for you.”

“Oh, please—”

Ella Sue’s eyes went steely. “Hush, now. And don’t you dare give me any lip about not staying at the house.”

“Of course.” Neve wisely hushed. Now. Then she slid her hands into her pockets and wandered in a small circle around the wide, open space of the lobby as she waited for Ella Sue to finish.

Pausing by the black-and-white images—copies, she knew—of several generations of McKays, she smiled. Bits and pieces of family history to start the visitors off, leaving them with just enough questions to make them want to know more.

“Ella Sue—well, hello there. Can I help you?”

At the deep voice, brushed with the crisp tones of England, Neve turned.

Automatically, she pasted a smile on her face as she met a pair of velvety dark brown eyes. His eyes were seductive and rich, like melted chocolate, something a woman might want to gorge on. But Neve knew better. She’d never much liked Charles Hurst, not when he’d traveled with Moira a few years ago to meet her and not during their infrequent conversations since. The few times she
had
talked to Moira she’d also talked to this smug son of a bitch, and if she was being honest, she’d have to admit that she’d stopped trying to call as much once she knew she’d likely have to deal with him as well.

Charles inclined his head, studying her. Then he smiled. “Neve. It’s you. Don’t you look … lovely.” That faint pause was almost imperceptible but she picked up on it.

No. I look like hell. I would have thought better of you if you’d just left it alone or even called me on it.
Instead of saying anything to that effect, she just lifted a brow and went back to studying the family images in front of her. “Hi, Charles.”

“Here to see Moira, I assume.”

“Yep.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The air-conditioning had felt good at first, but now she was cold. The simple cotton top she’d pulled on didn’t do much of anything to protect her from the cool air, and she had goose bumps breaking out all over. “Any idea where she is?”

“Of course.”

She turned to look at Ella Sue.

The older woman was tucking away her phone. “Mr. Charles, I’ll take her back. I’ve missed her so much. Besides, I’m sure you have so much work going on.” She smiled.

That smile, friendly as it was, sparked something in Neve’s mind. It was the smile Ella Sue had given the vultures who had started to circle after Devon and Sandra McKay—Neve’s parents—had died in a car wreck years ago. It was the smile Ella Sue had used when cops would show up at the door, intent on questioning Neve.
Why, yes. I’ll be happy to help you … but I’ll do it my way
.

Charles remained at Neve’s side. “Nonsense, Ella. It won’t take but a minute.”

Unaware of just what the issue was between them, but more than happy to get away from her former brother-in-law, Neve gave him a sunny smile and crossed over to Ella Sue. “Charles, I’m sure we’ll have lots of time to chat. But I haven’t seen Ella Sue in years and I’ve missed her.”

A moment passed and then he nodded. “Of course. You can use your lunchtime, then. Just remember, Ella, you are working.” He brushed a hand down the front of his suit and gave Neve a friendly smile. “Before you disappear, let me show you my office. You can swing by and say hello before you head out.”

Yes, because I’m so determined to spend time with you
. Biting back the sarcasm, Neve headed across the floor and followed him behind an opaque, flowing wall of colored, carved glass. It made her think of water, ever flowing. Ever changing.

The wall hid several doors, and he disappeared behind one that led down a long hallway. It ended in a set of stairs that went up, up, up, curving around until she found herself in an office that looked out over the lobby, with little windows that offered views down into other areas of the museum she hadn’t yet seen.

“So. You’re working here, huh?” she asked as he pushed open a door.

“Yes. I’m the director and I’ll handle day-to-day operations once we’re open. You might not realize how busy Moira is with the board and keeping McKay operating.”

The barb was subtle, but oh so sharp.

When he smiled at her, she smiled back blandly. “Bless your heart, Charles … it’s so kind of you to stay on even after things … didn’t work out with you two.”

A small smile curled his lips. “If I may…” He inclined his head and reached into his desk.

“Yes?” She tucked her hands into her pockets.

“Moira has a great deal on her mind right now.” Charles watched her, his expression flat, his eyes unreadable. “While … things didn’t work out as either of us had hoped, I still care a great deal for her. She doesn’t need any more stress piled on.”

“She’s always had a great deal on her mind.” Neve shrugged. “It’s a wonder she has enough room in her mind for the thoughts she likes to think. And
more stress
is practically her motto.”

If he was amused by the comment, he didn’t show it. All he did was continue to watch her and then after another thirty seconds ticked by, he pulled something out of the top drawer of his desk. “How much do you need?”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s not play games, Neve.” He gestured to her, somehow managing to encompass her entire body, from her head to her feet. “You look like you found your clothes in a homeless shelter. You haven’t slept well in weeks, and if you’ve had your hair cut in the past year, then you did it yourself. I always suspected that you’d fall, and fall hard. So. How much do you need?”

That was a hit, straight to her pride, and it did more to clear away the apathy, the misery, even the fear than anything else could have done. Placing one foot in front of the other, she moved to his desk with slow, easy strides. “So. You’re willing to pay me to just leave … and not bother Moira, I assume? Just disappear right now?”

“You are quite the intelligent one. I thought as much.” His gaze was cool and direct.

“I wonder, can you pay me enough?” She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes. “Let me think—considering that I own a third of the McKay family empire? Dynasty? Enterprise? What do you call it when your family owns a little of this, a little of that … you know. The bank in town, half the real estate, two of the restaurants … then there are the patents … well, the list goes on. Should I continue?”

Curling her lip at him, she finished by saying, “I don’t need your money,
Charles
. Nice of you to worry about Moira, though.”

She turned on her heel and strode to the door. Hearing him move behind her, she put more speed to her steps and hit the door just as his fingers brushed her arm.

She jerked her arm away. If he laid a hand on her, she’d lay the son of a bitch out flat.

She hit the steps and didn’t stop until she saw Ella Sue’s familiar face.

*   *   *

Moira looked the same.

Well, except for the blue silk scarf she’d tied around her hair, a darker shade of red than Neve’s.

The blue gleamed against the soft waves. The blue, the dark red of her hair, and her pale complexion—the smooth, creamy skin—all of it had Neve pausing in the doorway for a second.

Even as she helped pry open a box, her skin glowing with sweat, her eyes gleaming, Moira McKay was beautiful.

In comparison, her kid sister felt awkward and gangly.

Out of place, like she’d often felt.

But that wasn’t Moira’s fault. Too often, Neve had done her best to
not
fit in. If she didn’t fit in, then she stood out. If she stood out … well, they paid more attention.

“Moira.”

Ella Sue’s soft voice drifted through the air and Moira looked up.

Her gaze connected with Neve’s.

For a second, just a second, something bright and vivid lit Moira’s dark blue eyes. But then it was gone and her expression smoothed over. A calm, easy smile settled into place as she put down the tools she’d been using on the box.

“Neve.” Moira cocked her head. “I was hoping we’d see you today. I heard you got back last night.”

There might have been the faintest bit of censure. Self-conscious, Neve shrugged. “I got in pretty late. I was tired. Stopped in town, ended up running into Gideon and I just crashed at his place.”

Moira’s features froze.

Completely froze.

Well, what do we have here …
Neve wondered. Then she smiled, a little more naturally this time. “He’s got a great place. The guest bedroom faces right out over the river. He must have shocked the hell out of some people when they pinned a badge on him.”

Moira looked away, but not before Neve caught the way her shoulders sagged. “Oh, did he ever.” She laughed softly. “Sometimes I still have a hard time believing it myself. Gideon Marshall, reformed bad boy … now the chief of police.”

Moira’s gaze came back to her, roaming over her, and Neve fought the urge to squirm as the concern in her sister’s eyes grew.

A sigh ghosted from Moira and she turned to look at the man who’d been helping her wrestle with the box. “Max, can you give us a while? Take an early lunch if you want.”

He nodded and smiled over at them before heading out of the room.

“I … you look busy. We can talk later,” Neve said, resisting the urge to back away.

“Don’t be silly.” Moira frowned as she moved closer. Neve stood seven inches taller, but she lacked the confidence, the ease with her own body that Moira had always had. “Neve, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like hell. I…”

She stopped and blew out a breath, and then, with a tiny shake of her head, pinned a hard look on Neve. “Have you been sick?
Are
you sick?”

Ten years ago, that would have pissed her off—the demand, the flat tone. Now, though, she heard the concern and it soothed something inside her, the hurt she hadn’t been able to hide. “I’m not sick,” Neve said quietly. She shrugged restlessly as she turned away to study the room around her. “I’ve had a rough few months. Okay, the past few years have kind of … sucked.”

Now she turned and looked back at her sister. The ugliness of that final night lingered like a raw, gaping wound, but she shoved those memories aside for now. Swallowing, she said roughly, “I … I needed to come home.”

“Honey.”

A second later, she was wrapped in Moira’s arms and it caught her off guard. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Hush.” It was a command. Not a request, but a command. “Of course you came home—this is where you belong.”

*   *   *

Brannon probably wouldn’t be considered the most
sensitive
of souls, a fact he was well aware of.

He was, however, observant.

Observant enough to know when somebody was walking on eggshells. Particularly when that somebody was six feet five and had a predisposition toward the bold and brash, not the quiet and tentative.

After the seventh or eighth sidelong look from Ian, he thumped the plans he’d been working on down and demanded, “Out with it.”

Ian looked up from the schedule he’d been dealing with. “Out with what?”

“Don’t give me that shit, Campbell. Something’s chewing on your ass so just lay it on me and get it over with.”