Midnight Secrets (35 page)

A chain reaction of sensations swept through her body. Goosebumps zipped up her spine, nipples grew tight and hard, breath increased, and her sex throbbed in anticipated arousal. They’d made love only about four hours ago and she wanted him again. Was ten years of deprivation causing this oversexed reaction? She’d like to think so but she didn’t believe that for one moment. No one had ever been able to make her react like Zach. At the mere sound of his deep, sexy voice, she went wet with arousal.

She desperately wanted to say yes. Going home and getting lost in each other sounded like heaven. But there were a few more people she wanted to chat with. “Let’s stay for a little while longer.”

Again that grim look, but he nodded and said, “I think I saw Cooper Douglas out on the patio. I need to see him about something. I’ll catch you later.”

He was decidedly upset about something. She shook off her worry and headed to the corner where Kyle Ingram was sitting by himself. Why he came to these parties she couldn’t understand. Every time she saw the poor man, he was either alone or had the saddest expression on his face. Noreen, whom she’d talked to earlier, had been her usual sour self, so maybe it made sense he came to parties. Staying at home, alone with his wife, couldn’t be fun.

“Hi, Kyle. How are you doing?”

He blinked up at her as if he’d been asleep, and then jumped to his feet. “Savannah, hi. How are you?”

Since one never went anywhere in the South without being prepared to talk about the weather, Savannah started first. “Sweltering in this heat. Must’ve been close to a hundred today.”

“That’s what I heard. Sure hope we get more rain soon. That downpour we got the other day got absorbed into the ground like a sponge.”

Remembering what she’d been doing during that particular downpour brought a new wave of heat to her body. Great. Zach didn’t even need to be near her to turn her on.

Kyle didn’t seem to notice her flushed state. The same look he had every time she talked to him came into his eyes … some sort of weird adoration. Though the look was disturbing, perhaps if he was distracted, he wouldn’t wonder too much about her questions.

“You said you went to school with my mama, didn’t you?”

A smile brightened his glum face. “Maggie Mae … I used to call her. She was one of my best friends.” His face dimmed again. “Until she went off to college.”

“You didn’t see much of her after that?”

Savannah hadn’t thought his face could get any gloomier, but he managed it when he answered, “She met your father.”

That he hadn’t been a fan of her father’s even before her parents’ deaths was obvious. Was it jealously or something more sinister? Then why kill her mother? Why not just kill Beckett Wilde?

“You and my father weren’t friends?”

Hatred gleamed so hot in his eyes, Savannah had to force herself not to gasp and step back. The last thing she wanted him to do was shut down or guard his responses.

“Before they got married, I told her that she’d rue the day she married that bastard.” His mouth twisted in a sanctimonious purse as he added, “I was right.”

For someone who talked almost daily to sadistic, evil people, Savannah was hard to shock or scare. This man had something wrong with him. It wasn’t just dissatisfaction with his choices in life or a bad marriage.

Despite her disquiet, she continued with her questions. Hoping to ease the tenseness, she tried a different approach. “How was it that you got into the furniture business?”

“My parents own Ingram’s Furnishings.”

“How interesting. I didn’t make the connection.”

Ingram’s Furnishings was one of the largest furniture companies in the South. Half the furniture in her apartment came from their store. She made a mental note to give it away when she returned home.

“I talked my daddy into expanding.” He straightened his shoulders as he proclaimed proudly, “I opened the first fine-furniture store in Midnight. The other one in town is just mass-produced crap.”

“Did you see my mother much after you moved here?”

“She came into the store occasionally.”

“What about my father?”

His face closed down and Savannah knew she’d gone too far—interrogating instead of holding a friendly conversation. Before she could figure out a way to get back on track, a soft hand touched her bare arm.

“Excuse me, Savannah Rose,” Gibby said. She smiled sweetly at Kyle. “Mind if I steal my niece for a minute?”

Kyle shook his head and backed away. “I was just about to say good night.” He gave a small nod to Savannah and said, “Good to see you again.”

Savannah watched as Kyle muttered something to Noreen and then they both walked toward the door. When would she ever get a chance to talk to him again?

Turning to her aunt, she smiled, thinking how pretty Gibby looked tonight. “You know, pink really is your color.”

Gibby glowed at the compliment but she had something else on her mind. “An idea came to me a few seconds ago that I thought could be significant to your investigation.”

Looking around, Savannah winced at the number of people who’d heard that statement. As Gibby grew older, her hearing had become less sharp and her voice had become louder. She took her aunt’s elbow and guided her gently toward a more private area a few feet away.

“Now, what was—”

“Gibby, I’m leaving. You coming?”

Hester, Gibby’s best friend, stood beside them.

“I’ll be there in just a few minutes. I wanted to talk to Savannah a minute.”

“I need to get home now. Scooter’s medicine was due half an hour ago.”

Savannah knew that Scooter was Hester’s elderly cat, who, she claimed, was the oldest cat in Alabama. Savannah didn’t doubt it, since she swore the cat had been around when she was a little girl.

Gibby sighed. “All right. I’m coming.”

“Zach and I can take you home, Gibby.”

Instead of answering, Gibby looked at Hester. “Go bring the car around and I’ll be on the porch.”

Her mission clear, Hester walked away.

“If I don’t go with her, she’ll pout for a week. Why don’t you come by for breakfast in the morning? I froze a delicious breakfast casserole a few months back. We’ll have a nice meal and chat.”

Since a few months back probably meant she’d frozen the casserole a couple of years ago, Savannah knew indigestion would result. However, it was worth it if Gibby had what she thought was significant information.

“That sounds good. Eight o’clock okay?”

“Perfect.”

Savannah leaned down and kissed the soft, creped cheek. “You be careful going home. See you in the morning.”

Gibby looked around Savannah. “Zach, you get my girl home at a decent hour, you hear?”

Startled, Savannah turned. Was Zach in the room when Gibby made the statement about her investigation? The glint of fury in his gray eyes answered her question. She had decided to tell him everything tonight. Wrapped in his arms, she had planned to reveal that and possibly more.

Gearing up for what was most likely not going to be the sizzling night of passion and sharing she had been anticipating, she watched Zach charm Gibby and escort her out the door. Savannah went to say her goodbyes to Lamont and Nesta. If Zach’s expression was anything to go by, she was not looking forward to the next few minutes.

Hurt and anger were each powerful emotions on their own. Mixed, they could make you say shit you’d regret forever. Which was exactly why Zach hadn’t said a word since he’d gotten in the car. Savannah had tried to open up several avenues of conversation, but he hadn’t taken the bait. Responding to anything right now would open up a chasm neither of them was prepared to handle. Once his temper was intact, they’d talk. Until then, he’d stay silent.

According to Gibby, Savannah was running an investigation. The conversation he’d had with Inez Peebles the other day took on new meaning. She’d said Savannah was asking questions about her parents. She was investigating what? Their deaths? If so, why? And why now?

He shot a glance over at her. She was staring out the window, her profile as classic and pure as a madonna’s. At his request, she’d worn her long hair down, and all during dinner tonight, he’d dreamed about taking her home and burying his hands in those golden tresses as he buried himself inside her. Unless he was totally misjudging the situation, neither of them would be getting that kind of satisfaction tonight.

Pulling into the drive, he got out of the car. She met him in front of the car. “Are you coming in?”

Torn between devouring that sexy, mutinous mouth and just leaving and letting her to stew for a while, Zach took another direction. One he should have taken when he first suspected she was keeping secrets. “Yeah, I’m coming in and we’re going to talk. You ready to do that?”

“Yes, I was going to tell you tonight anyway.”

“Let’s go.”

They walked side by side to the front door. Zach unlocked the door and held it open for Savannah to enter. The instant he shut the door behind him, she whirled around and said, “I know you’re angry, but—”

Zach held up his hand. “Don’t even give me the bullshit of saying you were going to tell me tonight. Just tell me.”

Issuing an exasperated huff that echoed through the house, she crossed her arms and said, “Fine. Remember I told you I found letters my grandfather wrote to my grandmother?”

When he just stared silently, she continued, “He wrote that he didn’t believe my father killed my mother, nor did he think he committed suicide. He believed they were both murdered but it was made to look like a murder-suicide.”

“Did he have any proof?”

“As far as I can tell, no, he didn’t. Just his suspicions and some vague threats that Mosby made.” She turned slightly and said, “Come into the study. I faxed the letters to Sammie and Bri the other day. And I made copies for you, too.”

Did she think that was going to make this better? It made sense that she had planned to tell him at some point. She would want to see copies of the police and coroner’s reports. He could get those for her, so of course she had to tell him. What he didn’t understand was why she hadn’t told him immediately.

As he followed her into the large room that had been her grandfather’s study, he asked, “When did you find the letters?”

Her shoulders went stiff and he already knew he wasn’t going to like her answer. “Last week.” She handed him a stack of papers. “I wanted to check things out before I told anyone.”

“Anyone being me. Right? Apparently you’ve told your sisters, your aunt, and how many others?”

“That’s all, Zach. I just …”

“You just what, Savannah? Have you ever considered that the dead animal on your doorstep might be related to this?”

She shook her head. “That wasn’t anything other than a prank. You said so yourself.”

“That was before I found out that you might be attracting the attention of a killer.”

“A killer is not going to leave a poor dead animal on my doorstep.”

“Killers have a tendency to not be completely sane. Don’t discount it just because it doesn’t seem harmful.”

“All right, fine. But—”

Again, Zach held out his hand to stop her. “What’s your fax number?”

“Why?”

“So I can fax you the police and coroner’s report. I’m assuming that’s why you were going to tell me.”

“Dammit, Zach, it wasn’t like that.”

“The number.”

Green fire flashed in her eyes as she rattled off the number.

Zach turned to the door. “I’ll read over the letters tonight. It’ll take me some time to find the reports, since old records are in the storage room. Tomorrow okay with you?”

“Zach, please. You have to understand. Ever since my parents’ death, I’ve hated my father for destroying our family. No one ever mentioned it might not have happened the way we were told. I had to investigate.”

“You think I blame you for investigating? That’s not my problem and you damn well know it. You’ve slept by my side for the past week and you kept this from me.”

Knowing why she didn’t tell him cut deep into his heart. “Look, I’ve apologized, Savannah. I know I hurt you and I’d give my life to change what I did ten years ago. I can’t go back, I can only go forward. You need to make a decision. Either you trust me or you don’t.”

With that ultimatum, he walked out the door.

Chapter

Twenty-six

Rain, like small dismal streams, drizzled down the windowpane. From the window of her bedroom, Savannah looked out into the water-drenched backyard. The gloom of the weather couldn’t have reflected her mood any better. She hadn’t slept all night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Zach’s face. She had never meant to hurt him.

Even as she had the thought, her conscience snarled a reprimand. How could he not be hurt? Even if he hadn’t learned the truth on his own and she had told him first, he would have asked her when she’d read the first letter. Not telling him immediately was a breach of his trust.

She had to come clean about everything. He would be hurt again, but the longer she waited, the worse it would be. Adrenaline-charged panic flooded through her, familiar and unwelcomed. She took deep, cleansing breaths, fought for control and won. What remained was a cold lump of dread that settled in her chest. She didn’t talk about that time … hadn’t in years. But what would be worse? The pain of remembering or keeping the truth from Zach? He had every right to know.