Natural-Born Protector / Saved by the Monarch (2 page)

“Hank, thank you for coming.” Rita reached for his
hands and squeezed them tightly. “I’m not sure how to live without worrying about Lainie.” A choking sob escaped her as she dropped Hank’s hands.

Fred, leaning heavily on his cane, reached out and placed an arm around Rita’s shoulder. “She’s at peace now, honey,” he said. “You have to know that Lainie is finally at peace.”

Rita nodded and for a moment an awkward silence prevailed. “How about a tall glass of iced tea?” Melody said to Hank, breaking the silence.

“That sounds great,” he agreed. He followed her through the living room and into the country kitchen where the table was laden with food.

“Help yourself to anything you want,” Melody said, gesturing toward the table.

He watched as she opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of iced tea. The scent of her eddied in the air, a floral fragrance he found incredibly attractive. The black-and-white dress she wore emphasized her slender waist and the thrust of her breasts. Her legs were shapely, and a sudden stab of desire struck him.

The time and place was inappropriate for such a feeling but even more shocking was that he felt it at all. Maybe his sorrow at losing Lainie had somehow manufactured some crazy feelings for her sister.

The last thing he wanted was to feel desire for any woman. At least Melody was relatively safe. She’d be out of town before he knew it, back to her own life in Chicago.

He took the glass she held out to him. “Where are you from, Hank?” she asked. “I don’t remember seeing you around town before I moved to Chicago.”

“Actually, I’m originally from Cotter Creek. Lainie and I were in the same grade from kindergarten to seventh grade. Then my parents moved to Texas. My mom moved back after my dad died.”

“I think I remember your family. What brought you back here?” she asked.

“I’m a single parent. I have an eight-year-old daughter, Maddie. About four months ago I decided to make a change. Since Mom lives here now, it seemed a logical place to land. Mom has one of the town houses on the second floor.” He broke off, realizing he’d given her far more information than she’d asked for or probably wanted.

“The night Lainie was murdered, you didn’t hear anything?” The intensity of her eyes was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t. I’m an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of guy, and even though our places share a common wall, the units are fairly soundproof. I wish I had heard something,” he said as a wealth of emotion surged up. His hands made tight fists at his sides. “I would have gone inside and stopped it all from happening.”

She reached out and placed a hand on his forearm, her fingers hot, as if she were suffering from a fever. “Don’t blame yourself.” She instantly dropped her hand and took a step backward, her forehead wrinkling with a frown.

“I can’t imagine life without her. She was such a big part of my life.” She released a small laugh. “Even when I was in Chicago, Lainie managed to fill my life. She’d call at least once a day. Sometimes it was first thing in the morning and other times in the middle of the night.”

She shook her head ruefully, a hollowness taking up residency in her eyes. “The night of her murder, she
called and I didn’t pick up the phone.” Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I was tired and I just didn’t want to deal with any drama, so I let my machine take the call.”

He set his glass on the counter, searching his mind for the right thing to say. She hadn’t shed a tear during the funeral service but, when her lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably and her blue eyes washed with impending tears, he realized she was now about to lose it.

Hank shifted from one foot to the other, unsure what to do as she seemed to crumble within herself. He didn’t know whether he reached for her or she reached for him, but she was suddenly in his arms, sobbing against his chest.

Hank froze for a moment, but as she continued to cry, he wound his arms around her slender back and held her close.

It didn’t matter that they were virtually strangers. At the moment they were merely two people mourning a loss. As he held her, he tried not to notice how well she fit into his arms, how the top of her head fit neatly beneath his chin and the press of her breasts was warm and inviting.

What a time for his hormones to kick back to life after being dormant for so long. He wasn’t sure what it was about Melody Thompson, but from the moment he’d seen her a spark had gone off inside him—a spark he hadn’t felt in years and one he wasn’t eager to welcome back.

She cried for only a minute or two longer, then stepped back from him. “I’m sorry.” She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “I normally don’t fall apart like that.”

“Please, don’t apologize,” he replied. She grabbed a
paper napkin from the table and finished wiping her tears. He stood by awkwardly and waited for her to pull herself together. He picked up his drink from the counter, even though he wasn’t thirsty.

“What are your plans now?” he asked.

She tossed the napkin in a nearby trash can, then shrugged. “I have to decide what needs to be done with Lainie’s things, then get the town house on the market.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know,” he offered.

She smiled then, the first smile he’d seen from her, and pleasure washed over him at the beauty of her expression. “Thanks.” The smile fell away and she held his gaze intently. “The most important thing I want to do is find out who killed my sister, and I’m not leaving town until I have an answer.”

M
elody grabbed her coffee cup and took another sip. Maybe after two or three cups she’d start feeling alive. She sat at the kitchen table listing everything that needed to be done.

She had three lists started. One detailed what needed to be done to get the place ready for resale. The second had notes she’d made about what to do with Lainie’s personal items and the last one simply had the word
Investigation
across the top.

It was just after eight and the morning sun was pouring in through the window, warming her back as she worked. She’d been up far too late the night before, searching Lainie’s bedroom for a diary, a notepad, anything that might yield a clue as to whom she’d had a date with on the night of her death.

She’d found nothing. If anything had once been there, then the sheriff and his men had probably removed it when they’d searched the place as a crime scene.

It had been after two when she’d finally fallen into bed, exhausted both mentally and physically. She took another sip of her coffee and stared down at the sheet of paper headed Investigation.

There had been no sign of forced entry. That meant that Lainie knew her attacker, that she’d either opened the door to him or he’d had a key.

Hank Tyler had a key. He’d used it to come in and clean up the blood. And any incriminating evidence he feared might remain? She found it hard to believe that the handsome man who had held her while she wept after the funeral was also a cold-blooded killer.

However, she also knew that to trust anyone right now would be foolish. Just because Hank Tyler was easy on the eyes and seemed to have compassion didn’t mean that he wasn’t a viable suspect.

There hadn’t been anything missing. Whoever had come in hadn’t been bent on robbing the place. That meant he’d entered with the specific purpose of harming Lainie.

She picked up her cup once again but, before she could bring it to her lips, she froze. Had she just heard a door open? Her heartbeat quickened, and she thought she heard a furtive movement in the living room.

Had the killer come back?

Sliding out of her seat at the table, she fought the icy chill of fear that threatened to overwhelm her. As quietly as possible, she moved to the drawer that she knew held the knives and grabbed one in her hand.

If she was wrong and nobody was in the condo, then she would chalk it up to an overactive imagination. But if somebody were in the next room, she wouldn’t go in unarmed.

Gripping the knife tightly in her fist, she eased out of the kitchen and into the living room to see a dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl sitting on the sofa.

She swallowed a gasp of surprise and dropped the hand that held the knife to her side. “You must be Maddie,” she said, remembering that Hank had mentioned his daughter.

The little girl nodded, eyeing Melody as if measuring her worth. “My real name is Madeline Renee Tyler. My friends call me Maddie, but I think you should call me Madeline ‘cause I don’t know if we’re going to be friends or not.” She paused a moment. “You aren’t as pretty as Lainie.”

Melody nodded and surreptitiously placed the knife on one of the end tables. “Lainie was beautiful.”

Maddie frowned, her gaze not leaving Melody. “I loved Lainie, but I’m not sure I’m even gonna like you.”

An unexpected burst of laughter welled up inside Melody at the little girl’s brutal honesty. She managed to swallow it. “I’m not at all sure I’ll like you, either.”

“You have to like me.” Maddie lifted her chin a notch. “It’s not polite for grown-ups to dislike little girls.”

Again laughter bubbled to Melody’s lips. “Maybe when we get to know each other a little better we’ll discover that we like each other very much.”

Maddie looked at her dubiously. “Do you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate.” Melody sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Well then, that’s a start,” Maddie replied in a voice very grown-up for her age.

“Does your father know you’re here?” Melody asked.

“He was in the shower and I was supposed to be watching cartoons, but I decided I wanted to come and meet you. He won’t miss me. Lainie used to let me drink soda in the morning.” She cast Melody a glance that indicated that this might just be a tiny fib.

“Really? That’s strange. Lainie always liked a tall glass of orange juice first thing in the morning,” Melody replied. Maddie offered her a sly grin, as if she knew she’d been caught. “Maybe we should call your father and let him know you’re here?”

“He’ll know as soon as he sees that I’m gone. Whenever I disappear he always knows I’m here or at Grandma’s. Besides, I’m mad at him.”

Before Melody could ask why the little girl was mad at her daddy, she heard a rapid knock on the door.

Melody got up and opened the door to see Hank. “Hi, is my…” He gazed over her shoulder and spied his daughter. “I’m so sorry,” he said to Melody.

“It’s all right. Come on in, we were just getting to know each other.”

Hank swept past Melody, bringing with him the scent of minty soap and shaving cream. Clad in a pair of navy slacks and a crisp white shirt, he looked in control and amazingly handsome, but definitely irritated with his daughter.

“Give me the key,” he said as he stood in front of Maddie.

Her chin thrust out and she grabbed the key that Melody now saw hanging on a chain around her neck. “But Lainie gave it to me,” she protested, a hint of moisture shining in her eyes.

“I know, sweetie.” Hank crouched down in front of her. “But Lainie isn’t here anymore and Melody is going to sell this place to somebody else, so you can’t have a key anymore.”

Maddie stood up, removed the chain from her neck and handed it to her father as tears filled her eyes. “Why did she have to die?” She glared at Melody. “I don’t want you here. I want Lainie.” She burst into tears and ran for the door.

“Maddie!” Hank turned to Melody, apology written all over his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Melody held up a hand. “Please, don’t apologize.”

He headed for the door. “Look, she has a birthday party to attend later today. You said you wanted to talk to me about your sister. Would two this afternoon work for you?”

“Okay,” she replied.

With another apologetic glance, he hurried after his daughter, and at that moment the phone rang. Melody reached across to the end table and picked up the cordless.

“Have you come to your senses yet? Are you ready to come back here and stay?” Rita said without preamble.

“I never lost my senses, and no, Mom, I’m not ready to come back there. How are you doing this morning?”

“A little better, I think. All the relatives have gone and Fred wanted me to ask you if you’re joining us for
lunch. He thought it would be nice for me to get out of the house and he’s offered to take us to Raymond’s. They have wonderful steaks there.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to pass,” Melody replied. “I want to start boxing up some of the things here.” And she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to talk with Hank. She needed to find out if he knew who her sister had been seeing, who might have had a motive to want her dead.

“It shouldn’t take you too long to get things done there. You need to get back to your own life in Chicago,” Rita said. “I’ll feel better knowing that you’re building your own life. Melody, honey, you gave enough to Lainie.”

Yes, she’d given a lot to Lainie, but when her sister had needed her most, she’d been too tired to pick up the phone. “I’ll get back to my life when it’s time, Mom. Don’t worry about me.” She decided now wasn’t the time to tell her mother that she had no intention of going back to her own life until she found out who had taken her sister’s life.

“I’ve never had to worry about you, Melody. You’ve always been wonderfully self-sufficient. And you were always so good with Lainie, much better than I was.”

It was true. Rita had been at a loss when it came to her eldest daughter. She’d done what she could for Lainie, but usually fell apart at the first sign of trouble. Fred had comforted Rita while most often it had been Melody who stepped in to clean up whatever mess Lainie had made.

There would be no more messes, no more scandals, at least none that involved Lainie because she was gone forever. A feeling of loss nearly took Melody’s breath away.

She and her mother small-talked for a few more minutes, then after Melody had promised to have lunch with her mother the next day, they hung up.

Melody wandered back into the kitchen and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, then sat down and stared at the lists in front of her.

She’d spend the time between now and when Hank arrived packing up Lainie’s clothes. Even though the two sisters had been close in size, they couldn’t be further apart in styles. Lainie had been flamboyant and Melody much more staid. Melody would donate Lainie’s clothes to a local charity.

She’d also donate the furniture. She had no use for it, nor did her mother. There was no point in paying to have it stored.

There were a few personal items she’d keep, like the Guardian Angel picture that had always hung on the wall opposite Lainie’s bed and a collection of fairy figurines that had been collected over the years. The fairies had been Lainie’s favorite possession and Melody couldn’t imagine anyone appreciating them as she would.

She turned her attention to the list that had been on her mind every moment since she’d arrived in town. Staring at the word
Investigation
that she’d written across the top of the page, she wished she would have listened more carefully to Lainie’s phone calls in recent weeks.

Most of the time when Lainie called it had been late and Melody had been tired. She’d often listened to her sister’s stream-of-consciousness chatter with only half an ear.

She wished she could go back a week or two and
really listen to what Lainie had been saying, listen to whom she’d been seeing and where she’d been going. Somewhere in those conversations there might have been a clue to the killer’s identity.

Drawing a deep sigh, she started a final list and at the top of the sheet of paper she wrote the word
Suspects.
She needed to stop by the bar where Lainie had worked as a bartender off and on for the past five years. Maybe one of the waitresses or some of the customers would know whom she’d been seeing at the time of her death.

She took a sip of her coffee, her thoughts lingering on one particular man. She’d been charmed by Hank’s daughter. Maddie was outspoken and obviously sharp as a knife—and her grief over Lainie’s death had been heartbreaking.

And Hank Tyler had all the characteristics of a heartbreaker. Handsome as sin with an underlying simmering energy and—at least on the surface—a sensitive man. Under different circumstances she might have been interested in him.

But Melody had one rule in life. She never dated men who had dated her sister. She now had a new rule to add to the first. She didn’t date men who were potential murder suspects.

She stared at the list titled Suspects and added the first name. Hank Tyler.

Hank knocked on Lainie’s door at precisely two o’clock. Melody answered with her purse slung over her shoulder and her car keys in her hand.

“I thought we could talk over coffee out,” she said and stepped out of the town house. She firmly pulled the door shut behind her.

“Okay,” he said with a touch of surprise. “Anyplace in particular you want to go?”

“Is the café still there on Main Street?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s still there.” There was only one.

She nodded. “Then if you don’t mind, we’ll go there.”

He shrugged. “All right by me. It would probably be best if I take my own car because I need to pick up Maddie from the birthday party in two hours.”

Hank followed Melody’s rental car to the popular café. While he was driving, he realized the reason she’d wanted to speak with him out in public. She thought he might be Lainie’s killer.

And why wouldn’t she regard him with suspicion? Somebody Lainie knew, somebody she had either let into her condo or who had used a key to enter, had killed her. Melody knew he had a key and he’d told her he’d been close to Lainie. She’d be a fool not to suspect him.

Maybe over coffee he could convince her that he had no reason to kill Lainie, that it had been Lainie who had brought laughter back to his life after it had been missing for too long.

Even though the lunch rush was over, there were few empty tables and booths in the café, which was a popular place for women to share tea and retired men to sip coffee and pass the time.

As he walked in the door, he spied Melody already seated at a booth in the back. The coral blouse she wore
brought out the color in her cheeks and made her eyes appear impossibly blue.

He headed toward the booth and couldn’t help but remember how she’d felt in his arms the day before, so warm and for just a moment so yielding.

He mentally shoved the image away as he slid into the seat opposite her. He’d just settled in when the waitress arrived to take their order.

“Coffee,” Melody said.

“Make it two, and I’ll take a piece of apple pie,” Hank said to the waitress, then smiled at Melody. “Sure you don’t want a piece of pie or something?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I just had lunch a little while ago.”

The waitress left and she pulled a small notepad and pen from her purse and set them on the table before her. He eyed them curiously. “I feel like I’m about to be deposed by a lawyer.”

A tinge of red danced into her cheeks. “For the last couple of days I’ve been so frazzled, I think it’s important I take notes so I won’t forget anything you say.”

“I’m not sure what it is you want from me,” he replied.

The waitress arrived at their table and served their coffee and his pie. When the waitress left, Melody wrapped her fingers around her cup as if seeking warmth to chase away some inner chill.

“Lainie and I had kind of an unspoken agreement. Even though she told me when she was going out with somebody, she didn’t give me all the details. She knew I disapproved of her dating habits.” Melody laughed suddenly, a short but musical burst she instantly stifled.
“I sound like a prude and I’m not, but I knew Lainie was promiscuous.” She said the last word with a wince, as if it hurt coming out of her mouth.