Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense (12 page)

Minx.

He couldn’t help it. He laughed.

That woman was something else.

Dylan pushed a slice of out-of-this-world delicious supreme pizza into his mouth and stepped back to figure out how to tackle this latest problem.

The wood on the mantle over the fireplace had been rotted through. He’d bought a restored antique mantle piece to replace it, but he’d apparently screwed up and measured the damn thing wrong. It didn’t fit. Too thick.

Piece of crap had cost him almost an entire paycheck. What was he supposed to do now? He’d hate to take it back—it had taken too long to find one with this look—so maybe he’d see if he could shave a little off the bottom. Repaint it.

There was a knock on the door, and he glanced at the alarm clock sitting on the coffee table. It was close to nine. Probably the old guy from next door, coming to complain about the little bit of hammering he’d just done.

He shouldn’t have done it so late, but he’d found that beating the hell out of stuff at night and on weekends helped release some of the frustration he felt when he got snagged on a case. Helped clear his head so he could think.

Tossing the uneaten portion of pizza slice back into the box, he ran a hand through his hair and dusted off his pants. His jeans were ragged and his wife-beater was stained with sweat. Hardly presentable attire for company. It would probably fuel the old guy’s opinion Dylan did not belong in the neighborhood.

He opened the door and blinked in surprise.

Not the old guy at all.

Alexandra pushed her hand flat against his chest and shoved him quickly out of the doorway and back into his house before shutting the door behind her. She whistled and pointed up. “Holy crap, Collins. You live
here
?” She meandered into the living room and did a complete rotation as she looked around.

“What are you doing here? Where’s McCormick?”

She thumbed over her shoulder. “Outside in the car. Told him I wanted to visit a friend. Didn’t tell him it was you.”

Of all the stupid things!

Did McCormick know where he lived?

She looked at him and chuckled. “Calm down, hot stuff. I asked Reedus for your address. FYI. Pretty sure he already knew about us. I don’t think McCormick has a clue you live here. I mean, seriously? On a cop’s salary?”

The three-bedroom townhouse on East Bay Street was nestled among historic buildings worth millions. It was a rich district. He understood why she’d question his ownership. He just prayed McCormick wasn’t outside running a check on the property owner out of curiosity.

He made sure the blinds were closed tight. “I bought it at foreclosure.” About six months ago, he’d been seeing a pretty little real estate agent who’d turned him onto the idea of buying the place, fixing it up and making a profit. He’d put all of his savings into the deal, and it had been nothing but a headache ever since.

She used the end of her boot to lift a piece of the rotted mantle he’d left lying in the floor. “Oh yeah. Looks like a bit of a fixer-upper.” She arched a brow at him as she let the piece slide back to position. “You never mentioned you lived a block away from my hotel. No wonder it never took you long to run home and be back.”

“Why are you here, Alexandra?”

He had a hunch he already knew. She was still dressed in that sexy-as-hell outfit, and when she slid out of her jacket to reveal even more flesh, heaven help him, he almost didn’t care what her reason was. She could paint rainbows and clowns on his ceiling as long as he could stand here and watch her do it.

“Figured this was the only way I could get you to listen to me.” She moved some papers out of the way and flopped onto his sofa, looking as comfy as if she owned the place. She picked up one of the files. “Do you always bring your work home with you?”

“Not always. Sometimes it follows me.” He shook his head. Aside from shoving her out into the street in front of McCormick, he didn’t have many options here. Cunning move on her part. Might as well sit back and listen to the woman. Enjoy the eye candy. Maybe if he put up more resistance, she’d end up stripping to get his attention. His lips pulled up in a smile at that idea. “Want some pizza? There are a few slices left.”

“What kind?”

“Supreme.” She’d probably scrunch up her face and say something negative about having too many toppings.

“Mmmm. Gimme.” She popped off the sofa and hurried over to the table. “I didn’t manage to snag any dinner. I’m starved.”

She helped herself to a piece and bit into it. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head in ecstasy. “Ohmygosh. This is the best pizza ever.”

He grinned and moved to get her a drink. “Afraid all I’ve got here is water. Haven’t been to the store this week.”

“Typical man.” She carried her pizza slice as she walked around the room. “Mind if I look at the rest of the place?”

“Looking for ghosts?”

She shrugged. “Sorry. Habit. Especially in an area like this. I’m sure you probably have a couple, at least.”

He hoped not. “Help yourself.”

Her boots clicked against the hardwood floors he still needed to have refurbished. He knew exactly where she was as she moved room to room.

She finally reappeared in the living room, licking her empty fingers. “Not a single ghost. So weird.”

He handed her a glass of water and tried to ignore the way his nerve-endings danced with excitement when their fingers brushed. What was he? Fifteen again?

He forced himself to move to the other side of the room, away from her. He leaned against the doorjamb separating the living room from the small room he used as an office and crossed his arms. “Might as well get this over with. Why don’t you just say what you came to say, Alexandra? I’ve got a lot of work to do here.”

She glanced at the plastic spread in front of the old fireplace. Took a sip of her water. “I want to talk about Zach.”

“I don’t.” The mere mention of his brother’s name had his temper rising. “You have no idea what happened there.”

“Enlighten me.”

“None of your business.”

She shrugged. “I’ll tell you what Hannah has confided in me, and we’ll go from there. According to her, Zach—”

“Who’s Hannah?”

“Hannah is Zach’s girlfriend. You’ll love her. She’s the best.” She sank onto the sofa again. Crossed her legs. “Anyway, as I understand it, Zach ran away from home when you were still a kid. He didn’t get along with your stepdad. Guy was a real a-hole or something. You—”

“That guy was a great dad to me after Zach left. The only a-hole in this scenario was my brother.”

She hesitated at that comment. Good. No telling what lies his brother had been spilling to try to make himself come off more sympathetic than he was. Ray hadn’t been a saint, but he’d always treated Dylan well.

She licked her lips. “Dylan, didn’t you see Zach before he left? I mean, that day.”

“Of course I did. I’ll never forget it.” He’d thought back to those last moments so many times he’d lost count. He used to lie awake at night, wondering if it had been something he’d done wrong to make Zach want to leave.

“How did he look to you?”

“Like hell. He’d gotten into another fight at school.”

She cast her eyes down. “Got into a lot fights, did he?”

“From what I remember.”

She crossed her arms and lifted her gaze. Said nothing. Dylan shifted to the other side of the doorframe. Why was she looking at him like that?

He clenched his jaw. “Go ahead. Say whatever it is you wanna say.”

“Did it never occur to you that Zach wasn’t really getting into a lot of fights at school? That maybe someone else had done that to him?”

He scoffed. “Who? Ray?” He shook his head. “If Ray had hit Zach, Zach would have told me.”

“Maybe Zach was protecting you.”

He pointed at his chest. “Ray never laid a finger on me.”

“There are other ways of protecting someone. You were how old? Like twelve, right? And Zach was only sixteen or so? Your big brother. What do most big brothers do?” She bit at her bottom lip. “Dylan, your mother came to me because she knew why Zach left. She’s validated everything Zach told Hannah. She’s told me most of this herself.”

He shoved away and walked into the office, fists clenched. This was outrageous. His mother had never said anything about this when she’d been alive. She wouldn’t have—

“Dylan, I won’t pretend to know how screwed-up your family situation really was, but I do know what Rebecca has told me.”

She knew his mom’s name was Rebecca? Of course. Zach could have told her that.

“My mother was a good woman. She would have never let Ray hurt me or Zach and just stood by.
Never
.”

“But she did. And she spent the rest of her life dealing with that guilt, which is why she’s still hanging around, trying to make things right.” He heard the click-clack of her boots then felt her hand on his shoulder from behind. “She made a mistake. She told me she tried to make things with Ray work because she didn’t think she could take care of you on her own, financially.”

His mother had hinted as much, especially after she’d filed for divorce and kicked Ray out.

“Did you know Zach sent her money?”

He half turned. “What?”

“He sent her money to keep your house out of foreclosure. That’s why he took the job on TV. Not because he wanted the money for himself, but because he needed it for
you
. He kept sending her money, to help you go to college, and that’s what eventually gave her the courage to leave your stepdad. She tried to fix things with Zach when she was alive. It just never worked out.”

“Then she tried. He didn’t.” He turned and faced her. “He could have come home at any time.”

That’s what Dylan had always believed.

Maybe he’d been wrong.

There had been times when Ray had come down hard on Zach for stupid stuff. Zach had always taken it on the cuff and not acted like it was a big deal. And Zach
had
tried to contact Dylan. He’d been so angry at his brother, he’d never responded to the calls or letters.

His mind flashed back to a few days before his mother had died. She’d been on morphine for the pain and calling Zach’s name over and over. He’d finally picked up the phone to call and tell Zach to get his ass back home, but he’d gotten a disconnect message. Man, how he’d hated his brother then for not being there.

Their mother had squeezed Dylan’s hand. “Oh, Zach! I’m so sorry for what I did! So sorry, son. Please forgive me.”

At the time, he’d assumed she’d been blaming herself again for driving Zach away. But maybe—?

“Dylan.” Alexandra’s hand moved to his face. “Are you okay?”

He felt the hot threat of tears behind his eyelids and moved away. “I’m fine. Is that all you wanted to say?” He rested his hands on his hips. Took a deep breath and faced her again.

“You’re a good detective, Dylan. I just wish you could look at this information objectively, as if it were a case involving someone else. What would your gut tell you then?”

That everything Alexandra had implied was true. That the stepfather had driven the older son away. That the mother had displayed signs of guilt throughout her life that had been mistaken for other emotions.

“He waited
years
to get in touch with me, Alexandra. That part is all on Zach. That’s the part I’ve always had the hardest time forgiving.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d be pissed too. You should give him hell about it. You deserve better.”

He turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. His head needed to be in this Grim Reaper case. Not on old family problems or sexy female psychics determined to drive him to the grave.

“Is my mother…still with you?”

Silence. He turned again and looked at her. Alexandra was biting her lip. “Um, not at the moment. She’s been coming and going as she pleases.”

He nodded. He didn’t know what to believe about that.

“That’s not all I came here to talk about, Dylan.”

He blew out a breath. She was changing the subject. Thank heavens.

“Okay.”

She took a step closer to him. “I wanted to talk about us.”

Aw, hell. Talk about leaping out of the volcano and into the lava. She really wasn’t going to go there now, was she?

One look at her face told him all he needed to know.

She most certainly was.

***

Alexandra took a step back, not at all certain she was ready for this, but crap, who was she kidding? She was here. She’d lose her nerve if she didn’t go ahead and get it out.

She lifted her chin and met his wary gaze. “You hurt me, but you know what? You don’t really know me, so let me fill you in on some things so you won’t make that mistake again.”

He didn’t turn away and seemed to be listening. Good.

Crossing her arms, she moved toward him. “I get that you’re good-looking man who probably sleeps with every pretty little thing that bats her eyelashes at you, but I don’t normally fall into bed with every guy I meet.”

A flush ran up his neck. His expression darkened. “I don’t sleep with—”

“Just listen!” She pointed at him, and he shut up. “I’ve certainly never slept with your brother. I mean, gross. Totally not my type, thank you very much.” She shook her head and rotated on her heels. “And another thing, it’s your prerogative not to believe in what I can do, but I would never—ever,
ever
—pretend I could talk to someone’s dead mother unless I could. That’s just wrong.”

She rounded on him again. “You know what else? I like dead people. I can talk to them better than I can living people. They’re usually pretty good listeners once they’ve forced you to listen to all of their crap. They don’t give half bad advice either. ”

“Really?” His lips twitched.

“Uh huh.” She turned back toward the wall and kept on with her pacing. “I also go to church. Not as much as I should, I’ll give you that, but I am not some freaking devil worshipper and you pissed me off when you implied I was. I even used to sing in the choir until I moved to Atlanta. Still haven’t found a new church there, by the way, but I’m working on it.”

When she twirled and looked at him this time, at least he had the decency to look sheepish about questioning her faith. His eyes dropped to the floor.