Reckless Hours: a Romantic Suspense novel (Heroes of Providence Book 3) Page 2

  She looked at Bill and, through tear-filled eyes, said the things she couldn’t put into words.

  Bill sighed. “You’re not returning to the college next year, are you?”

  Her bottom lip wobbled. “You know I’ve always suspected their deaths weren’t an accident. A diesel boat doesn’t explode when taking on fuel unless something ignites it. Even a faulty wire would have caused only a small fire, giving them plenty of time to get off the boat. I saw the explosion from the parking lot, Bill. The boat went up like an atomic bomb. Even the fire investigator said they should have had time to escape, and yet the boat was engulfed almost immediately.

  “Things just don’t add up. They were acting so weird, insisting I go away with them before school was over. I would have been on that boat, too, if I hadn’t been so late getting there. I need to know the truth. But I honestly have no idea where to start.”

  * * *

  “You should start here.”

  Dylan peered over the side of the flatbed truck. Mrs. Burdett stood at the side of the road, giving him instructions on how to retie the ropes that were supposed to keep her priceless antiques in place. This not being the first time he’d been given a lesson from the elderly woman, he’d actually thought of passing by her when he saw her truck pulled over to the side of the road.

  But guilt crept up his spine, reminding him he was not only a cop, but a Marine, as well. Or at least he used to be. And at one time, he’d even been a Boy Scout. That still meant extending help to little old ladies in need, even when he was practically being forced out of town against his will.

  “Nah, you need more support on this end.”

  He wrapped the thin, almost clothesline-like rope around the solid sideboard snug up against the back of the truck. Even as he did it, he knew the rope was going to snap again.

  “Who packed the truck for you, Mrs. Burdett?” he called down.

  “Trudie,” she said, reminding him of her request that he call her by her first name. Tipping her frayed straw hat up so that she could meet his gaze, she harrumphed.

  His look was apologetic. “Okay, Trudie.”

  “Had to do it myself. That lazy good-for-nothing grandson of mine took off this morning after promising he’d help me load the truck. Probably down at Handies again with his lazy-boned girlfriend. Seems all they do these days is play pool and text on their cell phones, the two of them. I told him I had to get these pieces down to Jackson’s. They have to be photographed for the catalogs before the end of the day, or I’ll miss my spot during the auction. And I’ve held that spot going on thirty-three years now.”

  “Well, I’d hate for you to lose your spot. But we’re going to need something a little stronger than what you have here to secure these pieces, or you’ll lose the entire truckload down Main Street before you even make it to Jackson’s.” Dylan jumped down from the truck and stood directly in front of the elderly woman. She was no more able to haul this furniture onto a truck by herself than a five-year-old. He had a feeling he wasn’t the first Boy Scout to have helped her out today.

  “You shouldn’t be moving furniture anymore. You don’t want to break your hip again, do you?”

  She straightened her spine. “Who’s been telling you such things? Betcha it’s that new waitress down at the diner. She’s from out of town and she can’t keep her mouth shut for breathing. There’s nothing wrong with my bones, son. I got my new hip two years ago, and I’m as good as I was the day I started the Auction Acres.”

  Dylan winked. “Course you are. And just as pretty, too.” Her quick grin twisted into a forced frown, but Dylan knew she’d been flattered by the compliment, even as transparent as it was.

  “Don’t you go sweet-talking this woman. If you were this slick with the young ones you’d be married off by now, not chasing down that brother of yours.”

  Dylan winced at the mention of Cash, but he let it pass. He’d already grilled Trudie once about his brother, and it had been clear she didn’t have a clue who he was talking about. No one in this town did even though it was clear Cash had spent a good amount of time investigating something here. The one person he knew would recognize Cash was Serena Davco, a local woman who seemed as mysterious as the legend around the house she lived in. But she was the one person Dylan hadn’t been able to see.

  “Next time, you might want to think of calling some professionals to help out, if Maynard is too busy,” he said, changing the subject “All it would have taken is one more pothole and you’d have lost the whole load in the middle of the road instead of just that chair.”

  He pointed to the side of the road, where what was left of a wooden chair sat broken and splintered. “Doesn’t bode well for business.”

  “No, it does not. I’ll be sure to tell Maynard that bit of news.” She harrumphed again, this time with a little additional steam. “Not that it’ll do an ounce of good for the half ounce of sense he has in his head these days.”

  Trudie was still grumbling about her kin as she climbed into the truck, pulled out onto the road and sped off, the engine coughing black fumes that mixed with the kicked- up dirt. Laughing, Dylan strode back to his Jeep and swung the door open. Before he could climb in, a red subcompact car with rental plates rolled to a stop in front of him.

  Dylan did a double take; he couldn’t believe his eyes. He glanced up at the big ol’ sky and smiled. Maybe he wouldn’t be leaving town just yet after all.

  Heat seared his cheeks as the woman behind the wheel of the car rolled down her window. Reaching into his Jeep, he grabbed the picture he’d found in his brother’s apartment and stared at it for a brief moment. Then he glanced back at the woman just to make sure. He really didn’t need the extra look. He’d memorized the face in the picture over the two months since Cash had gone AWOL. This was the woman. Serena Davco. Since the photo had been taken, her hair had been cut in a straight style that fell around her cheeks, but the color was the same, as were the dark blue eyes.

  The woman’s smile was pleasant as she cocked her head to one side. “Hi. I was hoping you could help me out. I’m looking for a hotel in town that might have some vacancies. Do you know of any? Every place I’ve tried is full.”

  Anger surged through him but he held it back. Dylan tossed the picture onto the driver’s seat and strode into the middle of the road. He’d been knocking on Serena Davco’s door for weeks, and he’d had the housekeeper slam the door in his face each time. For weeks Serena been giving him the runaround and now she seemed content to play with him out in the middle of the road as if she didn’t even know who he was. There was no way he was letting her get away with not talking to him now.

  “Well, it’s about time you showed your face, lady.”

  She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “It’s about time you do. You’re the only one in this town who knows Cash Montgomery and I’m not letting you out of my sight until you tell me where the hell my brother is!”

  #

  Chapter Two

  The woman blinked at his hostility. Normally Dylan wouldn’t have been so harsh with a stranger, much less a woman, lest he suffer the wrath of his sister, Sonny. But he’d been unsuccessful in getting a meeting with Serena Davco the entire time he’d been in the small Massachusetts town of Eastmeadow. If demanding answers in the middle of the main street running through the center of town was the only chance he had to get information about his missing brother, then so be it. He was done waiting.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s not that hard a question. My brother. Where did he go?”

  She blinked again, her mouth agape. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Anger like hot coals surged through Dylan and he laughed. He’d already spent too much time in this hick town getting the runaround from everyone he talked to. But Cash had been clear about one thing. And Serena Davco was it.

  “The hell you don’t. I know you had a relationship with my brother. Cash started talk
ing all crazy about coming here to rescue you, because you were in danger. That was nearly three months ago and no one has heard from him since.”

  Dylan fisted his hands in frustration and then took a deep breath and looked at the open meadows on both sides of the road, and then released tension in his fingers.

  “Well, here you are. You don’t look like you’re in danger from anything but a stray cow, and even then I’m pretty sure you could hold your own, by the looks of you. Meanwhile, my brother seems to have fallen off the face of the earth.”

  “You’re clearly upset,” she said.

  “Damn right I am! When you brush me off for nearly a month, what do you expect?”

  She squinted her eyes and looked at him as if he was crazy. “Look, I’m just trying to find a hotel to stay in while I’m in town.”

  A fingernail of irritation raked up Dylan’s spine, sending what little patience he had left blowing out the top of his head. He raked his hand over his head just to make sure it was still there.

  “Hotel? Now there’s a real twist.”

  “What?”

  “Lady, you live in the biggest mansion this side of the Mississippi.” He pointed back down the street to the intersection where he’d traveled many times over the last few weeks. “That house on the other side of town is practically a hotel all by itself and it has your name on it.”

  The woman clamped her mouth shut and started rolling up her window as she put the car into drive.

  “Hey, wait, wait—you’re not going anywhere.” Before he knew what he was doing, Dylan’s hand was inside the window, trying to keep the glass from closing. But she was quicker than him, and the window shut, squeezing his palm.

  Desperate to keep his only lead from vanishing, Dylan pulled his hand out and ran in front of the car, effectively stopping her escape. That is, unless she was inclined to run him over, which by the look of her was definitely a possibility. Dylan didn’t care. Let her run him over. His brother was missing and Serena Davco seemed to be the only woman who knew why. He wasn’t letting her get away without finding out what happened to Cash.

  * * *

  Tammie stared in total disbelief at the crazy man glaring back at her from beyond her windshield.

  “This guy is a lunatic,” she muttered to herself as she contemplated her next move. She could run him over. But then she’d have to stay and talk to the police. She could back up and try to outrun him. But seeing how she’d opted for an economy rental car, he’d probably outrun a four-cylinder engine before she got up enough speed to get away from him. Her gaze was fixed on his glare and for the first time in her life she wished she’d chosen the Mustang with the fast engine that would get her from zero to seventy in two seconds flat.

  Giving herself a moment to decide whether she wanted to tick this madman off any more than he already was, she leaned on the horn. It didn’t seem to faze him at all. He just placed his wide palms on the hood of the car and continued to glower at her. She saw his dark blue eyes narrow as a gust of wind blew the curls of his chocolate-brown hair up and into his face. His black T-shirt did little to hide the muscles underneath and she knew without a doubt this wasn’t a man she wanted to get into a physical altercation with.

  “I’m not going anywhere!” he yelled.

  “Well, I am,” she called back. Inside the car, with the windows rolled up, her voice boomed around her. Her fingers white-knuckled the steering wheel as she licked her lips, contemplating her escape.

  “Where is Cash? What did you do to him?”

  Tammie shook her head, her eyes darting from one side of the road to the other in search of someone who might bear witness. She’d seen a truck filled with furniture pass by before she stopped, but it was long gone now. The only souls around her were the cows and a few horses grazing in a field, seemingly unconcerned with the disturbance happening in the street.

  She braved a glance in her rearview mirror. “Little four-cylinder, don’t fail me now!” Punching the transmission into reverse, she hit the gas and the car sped backward, the tires leaving tread on the road. As she gained speed, she cut the wheel and did a one-eighty degree turn. Heart pounding, Tammie glanced once again in her rearview mirror to see the psychotic man waving his arms at her as he ran. But to her relief, the little rental was faster.

  Even when the man was out of sight, her pulse kept pounding. With the back of her hand, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and tried to steady her breathing. Her heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear blood rushing through her veins. Though it was June, the temperature outside had shot up well into the eighties and with the window rolled up, it hadn’t taken long for the inside of the car to get hot.

  She pressed the A/C button on the console and opened the vents and waited for the cool air to fill the car. She’d passed a small, run-down-looking efficiency motel on the edge of town, but she still opted to go further in hopes of being able to stay in a nicer place to stay in the center of Eastmeadow. But if the local folk were anything like this guy, maybe she’d be better off in a dive she could escape to the interstate easy enough. At this point, as long as it had a kitchenette where she could brew some coffee, who cared?

  Her heart had slowed only marginally when she pulled into the parking lot of the Yankee Motel. There were only a few cars, but the sign said there were no vacancies.

  Heaving a sigh, Tammie bit her lip and stifled a curse. “When did that happen?” Tammie couldn’t recall the sign being there earlier when she’d driven past it. But then, she’d quickly dismissed the idea of staying here, so she’d probably just overlooked it the first time.

  Undaunted, she pulled into a parking space. Killing the engine, she reasoned that at least the motel clerk would know of other places in the area she could stay, which was more than she knew now. A town as quaint as Eastmeadow probably had a few bed-and-breakfasts that were worth checking out. She preferred something comfortable and homey to being locked up in a small room.

  As she walked toward the side door up the concrete path with grass poking out of the many cracks, she began to think that perhaps Bill had been right. Maybe all she was doing by coming here was chasing something that couldn’t bring her happiness. Couldn’t bring her parents back.

  She’d fought that battle long ago, after her parents’ deaths. She’d been angry. Who wouldn’t be? Grieving made people do funny things. She’d questioned everything about that day from why her parents’ insisted they take that boat to every detail of the harbor master’s report on the explosion. Since she’d received those DNA results, she was questioning her parents.

  She had to know the truth.

  The cool air in the foyer bathed her face as she stepped inside the lobby. An older man sat behind the counter reading a newspaper. The TV at the end of the counter was tuned to a sports channel, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to the game. At her approach, the man dipped the newspaper only slightly, so that she could see his face fully, and he quickly nodded toward the front window.

  “Sign says no vacancies, ma’am,” he grunted, and then stuck his nose back in the paper without so much as a glance in her direction.

  “I see that,” she said, pointing outside the window. “I was hoping that you knew of another hotel in town or even a bed-and-breakfast that might have a room.”

  “You must not be from around here,” he said, just his gaze rising to meet her face. It was enough to reveal his amused grin. Then he slowly dropped the paper and laid it on the counter.

  “Hey, aren’t you...?” He stared for a moment, as if he were waiting for her to say something.

  “Ah... I just got into town this morning.”

  The clerk nodded. “This morning? Huh. Well, there aren’t any vacancies anywhere in the area, with the auction coming up this week. Most reservations are booked as early as the year before. I had to kick two people out of the motel just this morning to make room for guests who’d booked their rooms last year.”

  “Last year?”


  “All those antique people want to make sure they’re close by their stuff while they’re here in town. It only takes one or two people to walk through the fairgrounds during the night to wipe ‘em out.”

  Tammie forced herself to keep her disappointment from showing.

  “The antique auction is serious business around here. But you know that.”

  “Actually no. Like I said, I’m not from around here.”

  His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Yeah…whatever.”

  His focus was back in the newspaper. She didn’t have a clue what the man was talking about. But given she’d seen a truck overflowing with furniture just before she saw the crazy man, she decided to play along and get any information she could about the town. It would help her decide where to start asking questions about her parents.

  After an uncomfortable moment, she said, “Since I’m here, I thought I’d check things out. When do the auctions start? Maybe I’ll wander in.”

  He laughed, placing his hand on top of the paper. “Little lady, this isn’t a place people just wander into during auction week. This small town of three thousand is going to grow to about a hundred thousand in a day or two, and it will stay that way until the auctions are over. People come from all over the country to this event. You can’t walk down Main Street without fighting your way through a crowd of people. And forget the parking. They’ll rob you blind just because they can. The traffic on these roads will be horrendous, and only the locals know how to navigate their way around it. If you want to wander. I’d wander right out of town and come back next week when things are quiet again.”

  The clerk pulled a map out of a container filled with pamphlets from area businesses and started circling spots in town. Motioning her closer to the counter, he stuck his finger on a map.