Slow Hands (11 page)

"Another scorcher of a day," the man said. "The only good thing about the afternoon thunderstorms is that they cool things off."

Alec nodded, topping his tank before shutting off the nozzle. He pulled out a credit card and followed the man into the dingy shop.

"Hold on. I gotta find that dang credit card machine." The man scratched his head, bewildered.

Alec tugged out his wallet. "Is cash easier?"

The man nodded. "My help usually takes care of this stuff. I try to avoid paperwork."

"Shorthanded?" Alec tried to sound casual. "Are you hiring?"

The man punched the sale into the ancient cash register. "Nah. Got a new guy starting soon."

Ian Griggs.
Alec knew the station had a contract with the halfway house to provide "employment training." Which basically meant that the station owner made money by employing parolees.

"Men's room around back?" Alec asked.

The owner handed Alec his change and a key. "I close in five minutes."

After using the toilet, Alec bought a lukewarm soda from the vending machine and left.

The building was straightforward, with no rear exits. He noticed the station didn't have an alarm system. The office had a television and a pay phone.

Between the expanse of plate glass windows across the front and the garage doors that were kept open during business hours, Griggs would be easy to watch while working.

Alec circled the block, checking out the surrounding businesses. It would be dark soon. He would park and walk back to the station to check it out more thoroughly.

A sheriff's patrol car cut in behind him, lights flashing. Swearing, Alec pulled to the curb, shut off his car, and had his driver's license in hand when the deputy leaned in his window.

"Feel funny having a legitimate license?"

Alec recognized the man's voice.

"Carl Winters." Smiling, Alec climbed out, shook the deputy's hand.

He and Carl had graduated the same year. They had played football, cut every class they could. Both made occasional moonshine runs. But mostly they were forever in search of fake IDs. Beer had been the beverage of choice among seniors.

Alec pointed to the star on the deputy's uniform. "Pay much for that badge? Almost looks real."

Carl leaned an arm along the Jeep's roof. "Heard you were in town. Back for good or just visiting?"

"Haven't decided." The lie stuck in his throat. He had returned to Freedom for one reason, then he'd leave.

Alec changed the subject. "When did you come back?"

"Six, seven years ago." Carl shrugged. "I know. We couldn't wait to leave this town, swore we'd never return. But when I ran out of wild oats, I found, by comparison, Freedom wasn't so bad. And after my daughter was born, well, hands down, it's a great place to raise a family."

Alec nodded. That was one reason he'd known Keira would have wanted to return.

"Everyone comes back sooner or later," Carl continued. "And they're all amazed by how much Freedom's changed. How much it's stayed the same. I figured it was just a matter of time before you showed up."

Before Alec could deny it, the two-way radio in Carl's patrol car squawked. "Unit seven, we got a one-eleven at the county park."

Carl responded to the call then turned back. "A one-eleven's a loud party. Damn high school kids."

"Are they as bad as we were?"

"Hell no. Which makes my job easier." Carl moved to his car.

"My wife and I own the old Hecklemeyer place on Elm. Stop by one night. We can catch up."

Alec watched Carl make a U-turn, tires squealing slightly.

For a moment, Alec remembered racing on Saturday nights, out on Highway 87. Nobody could beat Carl, though Alec had tried plenty of times. The men were friends. Comrades. Both bad news. They had joked about how the final race would be graduation night. The last one out of Freedom lost.

So
who'd won?

Chapter Six

The
following day, word of Ian Griggs's parole hearing made the news.

Most people in Freedom were outraged to learn that the chances of his returning to town were quite favorable. The local radio station urged listeners to write their congressmen in protest.

Alec reminded Keira to act surprised, not to give away the fact she had advance knowledge.

She was in her truck, on the way back from Hot Springs, when Willis reached her on her cell phone. Her grandfather was furious. "Dag-nab judges. What the hell are they thinking with? Their asses? Why, I got a mind to—"

"Settle down, Gramps. I know you're upset. I'm upset, too."

Even though she'd already known, it still unsettled her to hear it on the morning news. Besides covering the latest developments in Griggs's case, the station did the obligatory "look back" at the crime. The film clips made her ill.

Two reporters who zeroed in on the story about the assault charges being dropped had already tried reaching Keira for her "reaction." The buzzards were circling.

"Look," she said to her grandfather, "I'll stop by and visit. We'll talk."

"You do that. Just don't think you'll change my mind."

Keira hung up. She had no expectation of talking Willis out of his anger. He was entitled. So was she.

The best she could hope for was that Willis would vent the worst of his ire on her, then feel guilty. Which she could use as leverage to make him promise to steer clear of Ian Griggs.

Keeping her grandfather out of harm's way was her only concern.

Twenty minutes later Keira pulled into Willis's drive.

She climbed out of her truck, a familiar sense of ease settling over her as she entered her grandfather's cabin.
Home.

The main room was over a hundred years old and was part of the old stone cabin erected by her ancestors after fire destroyed the original log structure.

Her grandfather claimed the fire started when a still exploded. No doubt the highly flammable moonshine was great fuel.

She found Willis around back, hoeing his garden. Grabbing another hoe, she moved in beside him as he attacked the soil with harsh chops. Sand and dirt gritted against steel as they worked in silent unison. Within minutes, Keira was perspiring.

Finally, he spoke. "Those lying good-for-nothings! They said he'd serve his full sentence."

"I know, Gramps."

"Back in the good old days, we would have dealt with it ourselves. Permanent rehabilitation. In a facility six feet under."

Keira sighed. "Do you think I like any of it?"

Once again, Willis's hoe danced furiously in the dirt. He didn't stop until he reached the end of the row.

Then he dropped the tool and mopped his brow with a blue paisley bandanna. "It ain't right he's being set free after what he did to you."

"I agree. But you know the one thing that keeps me going?"

Willis didn't respond.

"You told me a long time ago life wasn't fair, but we had to keep moving forward anyway." Keira raised her chin. "Those words kept me afloat through some tough times. And they'll keep me going now."

She knew by the slight slump of his shoulders that Willis had gotten over the worst of it. For the time being.

Once again, the thought that Ian Griggs wanted to harm her grandfather nearly overwhelmed her. As much as she resented the emotional intrusion of Alec's return, she was glad he'd be keeping tabs on Griggs.

"Hand me that watering can," Willis grumbled. "And lower your hackles."

By the time they finished tending his garden, Willis's mood was improved enough he thought he could nap.

Keira bid him good-bye, but didn't go far, not ready to leave the peace and quiet that was Fire Mountain.

Instead, she went just down the road, not far from her grandfather's place, where she was building a log cabin on the mountain's small lake. It was the same spot her parents had planned to build.

The view there was stunning. When the sun sank low on the western horizon, it set the lake on fire. Possibly the reason her forefathers had named it
Fire Mountain'!

She shut off her truck and eyed the site. Earlier in the spring, she'd hired a crew to raise the walls and complete the roof, but there was still plenty of finish work to be done inside and out.

Initially, she had planned to work on the cabin at her own pace, had no set deadlines for completion. But suddenly she had the urge to see it finished.

To be closer to Willis.

Alec pulled in behind her truck.

He'd gone by Keira's office and learned from Martha where he could find her. While he was at the office, a reporter phoned. He got the impression it wasn't the first such call. Martha's protectiveness didn't surprise him. Keira's employees were fiercely loyal.

Alec stared at the log cabin, mildly surprised. Though only the walls and roof were up, he knew exactly what the finished structure would look like. His eyes followed the soaring roofline.

Yeah, she'd changed a few things, but he recognized the plan.
Their dream cabin.

He and Keira had drawn it together. In fact, he still had some of the rough sketches. Had always planned to build the cabin himself, but never found the right piece of land.

She had picked an ideal spot. The cabin fit perfectly with its surroundings. Forest encircled three sides of the house, but she had a pretty good clearing for lawn.

He felt a momentary pang of envy as he climbed out of his car. Keira was building a future, putting down roots with the quiet tenacity of a woman who'd always known exactly what she wanted. Even at eighteen, she'd had a single-minded determination few acquired in a lifetime. Hadn't that been one of the things he'd loved most about her?

He went inside, picking his way around the power tools and scrap lumber strewn on the floor. Without a breeze, the house was sweltering. The mercury had peaked at ninety-seven that afternoon.

He looked out the back door. The view rivaled a fantasy. Perched on a slight knoll, the cabin overlooked the lake. It was private, secluded, and surrounded by Morgan land.

For a second, Alec envisioned children playing in the yard, a young boy running up with a fish on a line. A young girl on a swing set.

He shook his head, banished the thought. "Keira!" He called out, sharper than intended.

When she didn't respond, he grew anxious, yelled out again.

Uneasiness pricked his spine. Dammit, where was she and why wasn't she answering? He drew his gun and stepped onto the unfinished deck.

He spotted a neat pile of clothes on the bank just as her head surfaced thirty feet out. Holstering his gun, he jumped off the deck and ambled down to the water's edge. Only then did he realize how fast his heart was pounding.

He stopped at the clothes, grabbed them. "Aren't you a little old to be skinny-dipping?"

Keira trod water, eyeing him. He had one knee straight, one relaxed, a hand on his hip. A deceptively sexy stance.

"Aren't you a little old to be stealing a girl's clothes? "Guess you never outgrow some things." "Ditto. Now drop my clothes and go back where you came from."

Alec shook his head. "Never outgrew that part, either."

Keira ducked underwater, smoothed back her hair. His words triggered memories of being seventeen and skinny-dipping in this same lake. Alec would steal her clothes back then, too, refusing to relinquish them. Or he'd strip down himself and come in after her. Either way they always ended up making love.

For a moment she wished he'd come in, wished she could turn back time, recapture the sweetness. Without the heartbreak.

She ducked under again. Despite the heat, the spring-fed water was a little chilly for staying in one place.

"Drop 'em, Alec. I'm freezing."

To her surprise, Alec dropped her clothes. But he didn't step away. He cocked his index finger, signaling
come here.
Silently daring her.

She'd show him.

Swimming toward shore, she climbed out of the lake wearing a light yellow, one-piece strapless. Alec's gaze dropped, his grin widening as he held out a towel.

She looked down at her suit. Her nipples were contracted, poking through the damp fabric like little torpedoes. She snatched the towel and wrapped it around her.

"It's the cold water," she gritted.

"Hey, I didn't say a thing."

He didn't need to. His wolfish grin said it all. Grabbing her clothes, Keira headed back toward the cabin.

Alec followed, only to find himself banished while she dressed.

"This is going to be a great place," he told her, when she let him enter.

Keira started gathering up tools, putting them away quickly, in a hurry to leave. She didn't like Alec being there, in the house. Didn't want a memory of him to take hold to haunt her later, when he was gone. This was a part of her life untainted by him, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Stowing her gear in quick, efficient movements, she headed for the front door.

"When it's done it'll be nice," she agreed as she made her way to her truck.

"I recognize the floor plan."

Keira nearly stumbled. "Don't flatter yourself. It's not the same one." She had purposely changed several elements so it wouldn't look exactly like the house they'd planned together.

Alec followed her, carrying a toolbox. He swung it into the pickup's bed and secured it.

"You changed the exterior a bit," he said. "I like the porch and double doors. But the rest? It's everything we planned. I remember we didn't want a cook top on the kitchen island."

The better to make love on it,
Keira recalled.

"We wanted the fireplace to take up most of one wall," he continued.

To keep them warm while they made love on cold winter nights.

"And we wanted a balcony off the master bedroom—"
To make love under the stars.
She cut him off. "Coincidence, Alec. There's no sauna, no whirlpool on the patio."

His shrug said they'd be easy to add. "The plan turned out pretty decent considering we planned the entire thing around making love."

She slammed the tailgate. Hard. "Figures you'd think that. That
was
all you ever thought about."

Alec caught her arm, tugged her close. "Hey, you were the one who insisted we have an island in the kitchen. Because you were short. Or were you planning to become a gourmet cook?"

He was correct, but she'd die before admitting it. If making love was all Alec thought about back then, she was equally guilty.

She sighed, stepped away. "Did you come here for a reason? Or just to annoy me?"

He lowered his voice. "I was worried. I was at the office when a reporter called. Martha said you've been dodging calls from the press all day."

"They'll lose interest as soon as a bigger story breaks."

Alec didn't agree, but kept quiet. Once the press confirmed Griggs was returning to Freedom, they'd close in. "Are you headed back to your apartment?"

She looked at him, wanted to tell him to mind his own business. Except that sounded childish. "I've got to stop by the office first."

He moved toward his car. "I'll head to your place and start heating the ziti."

Her place? She frowned. They needed to have a talk about the way he pranced in and out of her apartment. She didn't like it, and would tell him so.

Right after they ate.

Keira purposely worked late, in Hot Springs, the next few days, avoiding the reaction and disbelief sweeping through Freedom as word of Griggs's upcoming return spread.