Key Trilogy (41 page)

“What did you want, Dane?”

“At that moment? Just to be alone, I guess, not to worry about anything. Not to think how upset I was that the evil Joan had manipulated me out of a job I really loved, and
how I’m a little scared about starting Act Two of the Life of Dana.”

“That’s human. That’s normal.”

“It is.” She glanced back at him—big, handsome Jordan Hawke watching her with those deep blue eyes. He understood she wasn’t looking for meaningless words of comfort or sympathy.

“It is,” she repeated, as soothed by his understanding as she’d been by his hands. “I walked toward this grove of palm and fruit trees. I picked a mango. I could taste it,” she paused, touching her fingers to her lips. “Basically, I just walked along thinking, boy, this is the life. But it wasn’t the life, it wasn’t
my
life. And it’s not what I want, not really.”

She came back to the couch, afraid her legs might go weak again when she told the rest. “That’s the thought that came into my head—and then I heard voices. Off in the distance, but familiar. And I thought, this isn’t real. It’s just a trick. That’s when it happened. Oh, God.” As her chest tightened again, she pressed her fists between her breasts. “Oh, God.”

“Easy now.” He closed his hands over hers, squeezing lightly until she met his eyes. “Take your time.”

“Storm came in. That’s a mild word for it. When I realized it wasn’t real, the world went to hell. Wind, rain, dark, and the cold. Jesus, Jordan, it was so cold. I starting running. I knew I had to get away, because I wasn’t alone after all. He was there, and he was coming for me. I got back to the beach, but the ocean was insane. Walls of black water, fifty, sixty feet high. I fell. I felt him over me, around me. That cold. And the pain. Horrible, tearing pain.”

Her voice was breaking. She couldn’t stop it. “He was ripping out my soul. I knew I’d rather face anything but that, so I jumped into the sea.”

“Come here. Come here, you’re shaking again.” He gathered her close.

“I woke up, or came back, whatever it is. In the tub,
strangling for air. The bathwater had gone cold. I don’t know how long I’d been out of it, Jordan. I don’t know how long he had me.”

“He didn’t have you. He didn’t,” he insisted when she shook her head. Gently, he eased her back so he could see her face. “A part of you, that’s all. He can’t get the whole, because he can’t see the whole. A fantasy, like you said. That’s how he works. And he can’t push you into it so deep that a part of your mind doesn’t surface again and question. And know.”

“Maybe not. But he sure knows how to go for the gut. I’ve never been that scared.”

“Once you move past that into pissed-off, you’ll feel better.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I want a drink,” she decided and pushed away from him.

“You want water?” He realized she was coming back fast when the question had her curling her lip at him.

“I want a beer. I never had my bath beer.” She rose, seemed to hesitate. “You want one?”

Still watching her, he laid his fingers on his own wrist as if checking for a pulse. “Yeah.”

He liked the way she snickered at him before she walked away. It was a normal sound, a Dana sound. There’d been nothing normal in the way she’d collapsed on him.

If he hadn’t come by . . . but he had, he reminded himself. He was here, she wasn’t alone. And she’d gotten through it.

He got to his feet, took his first real look around her place. Pure Dana, he thought. Strong color, comfortable furniture, and books.

He wandered after her, leaned on the wall. More books, he noted. Who but Dana would keep Nietzsche in the kitchen? “First time I’ve been in your place.”

She kept her back to him as she opened two beers. “You wouldn’t have gotten in this time if I hadn’t been wigged.”

“Despite that lack of welcome, I like it. Suits you, Stretch. And because it does, I don’t suppose you’d consider bunking at Flynn’s for the next little while. I can take my stuff over to Brad’s and hang there if that’s a factor.”

She turned back slowly. “Are you being accommodating because I was hysterical?”

“I’m being accommodating because I want you to feel safe. To be safe.”

“No need to put yourself out.”

“I care about you.” He shifted, blocking her exit before she could move past him. There was a quick flash of rage over his face, almost as quickly banked.

Where had that been hiding? she wondered. And how did he tuck it away again?

“I care, Dana. Just for a minute, one damn minute, set aside the way things ended up. We cared about each other, and if you’d feel safer at Flynn’s, I’ll get out of your way.”

“All the way back to New York?”

His mouth thinned as he took one of the bottles out of her hands. “No.”

Maybe it was unfair to poke and prod at him. But what the hell did she care about fair when it came to Jordan? “I wouldn’t feel safer at Flynn’s—with or without you around. In spite of my condition when you knocked on the door, I can take care of myself. I
did
take care of myself. I got out of it without your help. And nobody, not you, not that bastard Kane, is going to run me out of my own apartment.”

“Well.” He took a sip of beer. “I see you’ve moved to the pissed-off stage of tonight’s entertainment.”

“I don’t like being manipulated. He used my own thoughts against me, and you’re using old feelings. We cared about each other?” she shot out. “Maybe we did, but remember, that’s past tense. If you want to be such a nice guy and get out of my way, then get out of it now. You’re crowding me.”

“I’ve got things to say to you, and if I’ve got to block you in to get you to hear them, then that’s the way it is. I didn’t know you loved me. I don’t know what it would have changed, I just know it would’ve changed . . . something. Just like I know I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t smart enough or steady enough.”

“You were smart and steady enough to do what you wanted.”

“That’s exactly right.” With his eyes locked on hers, he nodded. “I was self-absorbed, broody, and restless. What the hell did you want with me, anyway?”

“You idiot.” Because she’d lost her taste for it, she set the beer aside. “You’ve just described the sort of guy every girl falls for at least once. Then you add those whiffs of recklessness, the brain, the looks, and the chemistry, and I didn’t have a chance. How can you make a living writing about people when you don’t understand half of them?”

When she tried to push past him, he took her arm. The look she sent him could have melted steel. “Buy a clue, Hawke. I said girls fall for
once
. Girls generally evolve into smart and steady women who put away the childish things like self-absorbed assholes.”

“That’s good. I prefer women.” He put his beer on the counter. “I’ve always preferred you.”

“Do you think that makes my heart go pitty-pat?”

“Not yours, Stretch. But this might.”

He caught her face in his free hand, allowed himself the perverse pleasure of seeing her fury leap out of her eyes, then covered her mouth with his.

Thank God, he thought, thank God she was angry enough that he could do what he hadn’t been able to do when she was pale and shaken.

There’d never been a taste he’d craved the way he craved Dana’s. He had never understood it. And never worried that he should. It simply was. She might rake him to the bone for it, but he had a point to prove. To both of them.

He wasn’t gentle. She’d never seemed to expect or need gentleness from him. He simply pressed her back to the wall and took.

Heat flooded her, as enervating and nearly as terrifying as the cold she’d experienced earlier. There was no point in lying to herself, she wanted to feel this
involved
again, this aware of self, this needy.

But lying to him was a different matter entirely, so she shoved at him, struggled with herself, and refused to yield to either.

He laid a hand on her heart, and with his mouth only a breath from hers now, stared into her eyes. “Yeah. That got it going.”

“Get this. It’s not going to happen. It’s never going to happen again.”

“Somebody once said, ‘What’s past is prologue.’ ”

“Shakespeare, you ignorant jerk.
The Tempest
.”

“Right.” Amused admiration flickered over his face. “You were always better at remembering that stuff than I was. But, in any case, I’m not looking to repeat myself. However much we’re the same, we’re that much different. We’re not the same people we were, Dana. I want a chance to see who we would be together now.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Sure you are. You’ve got a curious mind, and you’re wondering, the same as I am. But maybe you’re afraid that being around me will prove too much for your self-control.”

“Please. You arrogant pig.”

“Well, then, why don’t we test your self-control and satisfy my curiosity, and have ourselves a date?”

He’d managed to throw her off. “A what?”

“You remember what a date is, Dane. Two people going out to a prearranged location.” Idly, he ran the lapel of her robe between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I see, you thought I meant we’d just jump straight into bed, rock and roll. Okay, if that’s the way you want it—”

“Stop it.” Baffled, annoyed, and more than half amused, she elbowed him aside. “I was not thinking about sex.” And because that was a complete lie, her tone was aloof. “There’s not going to be any rock and roll, as you so succinctly put it. And the idea of a date is just ludicrous.”

“Why? You’d get a free meal out of it. And the added pleasure of being able to shut me down when I put the moves on you, and send me home sexually frustrated.”

“That does have some appeal.”

“Saturday night. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”

“How do you know I don’t already have a date for Saturday night?”

He grinned at her. “I asked Flynn if you were seeing anybody. I know how to do my research, Stretch.”

“Flynn doesn’t know everything,” she retorted as Jordan strolled away. “Wait just a damn minute.” She rushed out into the living room, caught up with him at the door. “There are some basic requirements. The meal’s in an actual restaurant. No fast food, and not the Main Street Diner. And when you say you’ll pick me up at seven-thirty, that doesn’t mean you get here at seven-forty-five.”

“Agreed.” He paused. “I know there’s no point in asking if you want me to stay, bunk on the couch. But you could call Malory, and I could hang out until she got here.”

“I’m okay.”

“You always were, Stretch. See you.”

Thoughtfully, she locked the door behind him before wandering back to the kitchen to pour the warm beer down the sink. It seemed to be her night to waste beer.

She didn’t know if any of it brought her closer to the key, but she’d certainly learned some new things this evening. Kane already knew she was searching for the second key, and hadn’t wasted any time putting the whammy on her. He’d wanted her to know he was watching.

And didn’t that mean he was worried that she had a good chance of succeeding?

Yeah, that made sense. Malory had shut him down once. So maybe he would be less cocky this time up. And more vicious, she mused.

She’d learned that Jordan still had that core of decency that had always attracted her. She’d been scared, nearly ill with fear, and he’d given her exactly what she needed to find her feet again without making her feel foolish or weak.

She had to give him credit for that.

More, she admitted as she went to clean up the mess she’d left in the bathroom, she had to give him credit for being honest enough to say he’d been selfish.

She could still hate him for it, but she had to respect the fact that he acknowledged it.

She had to bear down hard just to cross the threshold into the bathroom. It gave her the willies to see the book still floating, bloated with water, in the tub.

It was symbolic, she thought, that he’d invaded this most personal of rooms. It told her there was no place that she would be completely safe until the key was found or the month was over.

She pulled the plug, watched the water begin to drain.

“Just have to deal,” she ordered. “And it won’t be so easy to scare me next time. I’ll deal with you. With Jordan. With myself. Because I learned one more thing tonight. Goddamn it, I’m still in love with the jerk.”

It didn’t make her feel any better to say it out loud, but it did help to put her bathroom to rights again. Her apartment, her things, her life, she thought as she went into the bedroom.

As far as Jordan was concerned, it was much more likely that it was the memory she still loved. The boy, the young, wounded man who’d been her first love. Didn’t every woman have a soft spot for her first true love?

She settled on the bed, took her bed book out of the nightstand drawer. The paperback she kept there was only
a front. The one she opened was
Cold Case
, by Jordan Hawke.

Wouldn’t he crow if he knew she was reading his latest book? Worse, if he knew she was enjoying every damn word.

Maybe she was still in love with the memory of the boy, but she would rather eat live slugs than have the man discover that she’d read every one of his books.

Twice.

T
HEY
started work on the porch, taking advantage of the fine fall weather and Zoe’s experience.

By unanimous agreement, Dana and Malory had elected her the goddess of remodel. In their oldest clothes, and with new tools for Dana and Malory, they worked at Zoe’s direction prepping the porch for paint.

“I didn’t know it would be so much work.” Malory sat back on her heels and examined her nails. “I’ve ruined my manicure. And you just gave it to me a couple of days ago,” she reminded Zoe.

“I’ll give you another. If we don’t scrape and sand off the peeling paint, the new paint won’t stick right. It needs a good, smooth, porous surface, or we’ll be doing this again in the spring.”

“We bow to you,” Dana told Zoe, and watched her wield the little electric sander. “I always thought you just sort of slopped the paint on, then waited for it to dry.”

“That kind of thinking is why you bow to me.”

“It’s already gone to her head,” Dana grumbled and attacked curls of peeling paint with her scraper.

“I wouldn’t mind having a little crown, something delicate and tasteful.” Even as she spoke, Zoe kept one eye on her underlings. “It’s going to look great. You’ll see.”

“Why don’t you entertain us during the drudgery?” Malory suggested. “Tell us about dinner with Brad last night.”

“It was no big deal. He just played some video games with Simon, ate, then left. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up about it. I just haven’t had a guy over in a while. And I’m not used to cooking for millionaires. I felt like I needed finger bowls or something.”

“Brad’s not like that,” Dana protested. “A guy with money can still be normal. Brad used to eat at our place all the time when we were kids. And we hardly ever used the finger bowls.”

“It’s not the same. We didn’t grow up together, for one thing. And your family and his have more in common. A hairdresser who grew up in a trailer in West Virginia doesn’t have a lot to say to the heir to an American empire.”

“You’re not being fair to him, or yourself,” Malory told her.

“Maybe not. Just realistic. Anyway, he makes me nervous. I guess it’s not only the money, really. Jordan has money, he must with all those bestsellers. But he doesn’t make me so nervous. We had a nice, easy time together when he came over and fixed my car.”

Dana lost her rhythm and ended up with a splinter in her thumb. “Your car?” Scowling, she sucked viciously at the thumb. “Jordan fixed your car?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know he used to work on cars. He really knows his way around an engine, too. He just came by the other afternoon with all these tools and said why didn’t he have a look at my car for me. It was really sweet of him.”

“He’s just a big sugar cookie,” Dana said with a smile that clamped her teeth together.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Dana.” Zoe switched off the sander, angled her head. “He didn’t have to bother, and he spent over two hours messing with it, and wouldn’t take anything but two glasses of iced tea.”

“I bet he ogled your ass when you walked in the house to get it.”

“Maybe.” Zoe worked hard to keep her face sober. “But only in a healthy, friend-of-the-family sort of way. A small price to pay for saving me another trip to the garage. And the fact is, my car hasn’t run this well since I bought it. Actually, it didn’t run this well then, either.”

“Yeah, he always was good with cars.” And generous with his time, Dana was forced to admit. “You’re right, it was considerate.”

“And sweet,” Malory added with a meaningful look at Dana.

“And sweet,” she mumbled.

“He let Simon hang around him when he got home from school, too.” Zoe flipped the sander back on, bent to her work. “It’s fun to see Simon pal around with a man. I guess I have to say Bradley was nice to Simon too, and I appreciate that.”

“So neither of them put the moves on Simon’s mother?” Dana wanted to know.

“No.” With a half laugh, Zoe scooted farther down the porch. “Of course not. Jordan was just doing a favor for a friend, and Bradley . . . it’s not like that.”

Dana’s opinion was a long
hmmm
as she got back to work.

By lunchtime the porch was sufficiently prepped to pass Zoe’s inspection. They gave their tired muscles a rest and sat on the sanded boards eating tuna sandwiches.

With a morning’s work behind them, the sun bright, and the mood mellow, Dana decided it was time to tell them her experience of the night before.

“So . . . I had a little run-in with Kane last night.”

Malory choked, grabbed for her bottle of water. “What?
What?
We’ve been here for over three hours, and you’re just getting around to telling us that?”

“I didn’t want to start off the morning with it. I knew we’d all get freaked again.”

“You’re okay?” Zoe laid a hand on Dana’s arm. “You’re not hurt or anything?”

“No, but I’ve got to tell you, the little brush I had with him before was nothing compared to this. I knew what happened with you, Mal, but I still didn’t get it. I do now.”

“Tell us.” Malory shifted so she and Zoe flanked Dana.

It was easier this time. She was able to relate the experience more calmly and with more detail than she’d done with Jordan. Still, her voice shook at times, and she had to reach for her Thermos of coffee, sip slowly to ease her throat.

“You could’ve drowned.” Zoe put her arm around Dana’s shoulder. “In the tub.”

“I wondered about that. But I don’t think so. If he could just, well, eliminate us, why not have us walk off a cliff, or step in front of a truck? Something like that.”

“Boy, that’s really cheery.” Zoe stared out at the street, nearly winced when a car drove by. “I’m so glad you mentioned it.”

“Come on. Seriously. It seems to me he can only go so far. Like it was with Malory. It comes down to us making a choice—to reaching down inside, holding on to enough of ourselves to recognize the illusion and reject it.”

“But he hurt you just the same,” Zoe pointed out.

“Oh, man.” Remembering, Dana rubbed a hand over her heart. “I’ll say. Even if the pain was an illusion, it did the job. Worse than the pain was knowing what the pain meant, then the fear that he could take that from me.”

“You should’ve called.” There was as much exasperation as concern in Malory’s voice. “Dana, you should have called me, or Zoe. Both of us. I know what it’s like to be caught in one of those illusions. You didn’t have to be alone.”

“I wasn’t. Exactly. Afterward, I mean. I was going to call. In fact, I think I was just going to stand in the bedroom and scream for both of you, but then Jordan knocked on the door.”

“Oh.”

Dana stared at Malory. “There’s no ‘oh’ in that meaningful tone. He just happened to be there at a moment when I’d have welcomed a visit from a two-headed dwarf as long as he could chase the bogeyman away.”

“Funny coincidence, though,” Malory said with a flutter of lashes. “I mean when you figure the elements of fate and destiny and connections.”

“Look, just because you’re all mush-brained over Flynn, don’t assume the rest of the world has to fall in line. He came by, and he behaved very decently. At first.”

“Let’s hear about at second, then,” Zoe insisted.

“Unlike Brad, apparently, Jordan rarely hesitates to make his move. He cornered me in the kitchen.”

“Really?” Malory gave a sigh. “The first time Flynn kissed me was in the kitchen.”

“Anyway, I’m going out with him Saturday night.” She waited, then scowled when no one spoke. “Well?”

Zoe braced her elbow on her thigh, propped her chin on her fist. “I was just thinking that it’d be nice if the two of you could at least be friends again. And that maybe, from an entirely different perspective, becoming friends again is part of what you have to do to find the key.”

“I think I need to get into this a little more before I start multitasking. I don’t know if I can be friends with Jordan again, because . . . I’m still sort of in love with him.”

“Dana.” Malory took her hand, but Dana broke free, pushed off the steps.

“I don’t know if I’m still in love—more or less—with
him
him, or with the him that I fell for all that time ago. You know, like this memory of him. This image, and it’s no more than an illusion now. But I’ve got to find out, don’t I?”

“Yeah.” Zoe unwrapped the brownies she’d brought along and held one out to Dana. “You need to find out.”

“And if I am in love with him, I can get over it.” She took a huge bite of brownie. “I got over it before. If I’m not in love with him, then everything gets back to normal. Or as back to normal as possible until I find the key.”

“What about his feelings?” Malory asked her. “Aren’t they a factor?”

“He had it his way once. This time around it’s my way.” She rolled her shoulders, pleased that the weight seemed to shrug off with the statement. “Let’s paint our porch.”

WHILE they broke out brushes and rollers, Jordan relayed Dana’s experience to Flynn and Brad.

They sat in Flynn’s living room, set up as an informal think tank. Jordan paced as he spoke, and Flynn’s dog, Moe, watched every movement in hopes that Jordan might detour to the kitchen, and cookies.

Now and again, if Jordan’s direction veered closer to the doorway, Moe’s big black tail would thump in anticipation. So far it hadn’t netted him any treats, but it did get him a few rubs on the back with Flynn’s foot.

“Why the hell didn’t you bring her back here?” Flynn demanded.

“I guess I could have. If I’d knocked her unconscious and hog-tied her. This is Dana we’re talking about.”

“Okay, okay, point taken. You could’ve told me all this last night.”

“I could’ve—and you’d have rushed over there. Which would’ve annoyed her. You’d have tried to make her come here, which would have meant the two of you would’ve ended up fighting. I just figured she’d had enough for one night. Added to that, I wanted to tell you both about it at once, when Malory wasn’t around.”

“Now that we do know,” Brad put in, “what do we do about it?”

“There you go.” Jordan walked back to the couch, and burst Moe’s cookie fantasy by sitting down on the crate that served as coffee table. “We can’t get her, or any of them, out of this. Even if we could, I don’t know if we should. There’s a lot at stake.”

“Three souls,” Brad murmured. “I don’t think I’ve adjusted to that yet. Even knowing what happened with Malory, it doesn’t compute in my head. But I’ll go along with this. We can’t get them out of it. So the question comes down to two parts. What can we do to keep them safe, and how do we help them find the key?”

“We make sure none of them is alone any more than necessary,” Flynn began. “Even though we know that he got to Malory when she was with Dana and Zoe, it’s a precaution we ought to take.”

“She won’t move in here, Flynn. I offered to move out, and she still wouldn’t go for it.” Absently Jordan rubbed his chin, reminding himself that he hadn’t shaved. “But one of us could move into her place. At least stay there with her at night.”

“Oh, yeah, she’ll go for that.” Sarcasm dripped from Flynn’s voice. “The minute I say I’m going to sleep at her place, she’ll get her back up, or just brain me with the handiest blunt instrument. And she sure as hell isn’t going to let you move in with her. Or Brad either.”

“I was thinking of Moe.”

The annoyance on Flynn’s face changed to bafflement. “Moe?”

At the sound of his name, Moe leaped up happily, knocking magazines off the crate with the enthusiastic sweep of his tail before trying to climb into Flynn’s lap.

“You said Moe sensed Kane, or danger at least, when you went into the building where he’d separated Malory from Dana and Zoe.”

“Yeah.” Remembering it, Flynn rubbed Moe’s big head. “And he charged up those stairs ready to rip out throats. Didn’t you, you wild thing?”

“So, he could be a sort of early-warning system. And if he carried on the way you said he did before, he would alert the neighbors. Potentially, he could keep Dana grounded.”

“It’s a good idea,” Brad agreed, and began to pick a few of Moe’s hairs off his trousers. “But just how are you going to talk Dana into taking Moe as a roommate?”

“I can cover that,” Flynn said smugly. “I’ll tell her I’m moving in at her place, and we’ll have the expected argument. I’ll give in, then ask her if she won’t at least compromise by taking Moe so I can sleep at night. She’ll feel sorry for me and agree so she doesn’t come off as bitchy.”

“I’ve always admired your sneaky, serpentine methods,” Brad commented.

“Just gotta keep your eye on the goal. Which brings us back to the key.”

“My schedule’s still the most flexible,” Jordan began. “I can take all the time needed to dig into this. Research, brainstorming, legwork. You’ve got your journalist’s resources,” he said to Flynn. “Plus Malory’s willing and able to work with you, and Dana and Zoe have already let you in—as far as women ever let men in—to their group. Brad’s got the HomeMakers’ advantage. He can drop by their building most anytime—How’s it going, ladies? Looks good. Can I give you a hand with that?”

“I can do that. Maybe you could casually mention to Zoe that I’m not now, nor have I ever been, an axe murderer.”