“What do you mean?”
She parted both lips but shut them quickly.
“I promise, Lilah, you can tell me anything, and I wouldn’t judge you for it.”
The woman inside screamed,
go ahead, trust him,
but the scared little girl pulled back into her closet. “I’m just so confused right now. No, not about you, but — there are elements I’m dealing with, my Ex, other stuff, my emotions; it’s all jumbled into a crazy mess.”
He issued one word, “Jesus,” before exhibiting a peculiar chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Sorry, Sweetheart. It just confounds me, the similarity between all the shadows, the self imposed chains we both trail behind us.” This time he took both her hands and refused to let go. “Lilah, I sense the same exact thing. I know; I’m a man, we’re not supposed to fear this stuff, but I do, at least in my heart. I, too, don’t want to be crushed again.”
“You have my word, Lilah. I won’t push until I feel you’re ready, and not because I lack interest in intimacy. Nor will I lose interest, or look elsewhere. We’ll take things at your pace. Is that fair?”
The uncertainty eased, yet the flutter in her pulse continued as his hands melted her skin. “Yes, Reece, and thank you.”
“My pleasure, Lilah. Can I share a secret with you now?”
“Yes, please.”
“I consider myself one lucky man to have an angel like you admire him from afar. Thank God I saw your paintings at the wine festival. Or maybe that was meant to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“You moving here with all the…” he hesitated, as if changing direction, “At this junction in your life, having the courage to reflect on canvas what you felt in your heart.”
The look he gave frightened her more than any of his revelations or the fact they hit it off so well. Her stomach knotted, and her mouth went dry. If they continued on this path, she’d give into her desires, but it was way too soon. She wanted their time together to be more than a melding of flesh. As attracted as she was to the man, she wanted more time before taking their new relationship to the next level.
She pushed from the table and stood. “I know you had plans for the rest of the evening, but I – I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll be glad to help with the dishes, though.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do. It’s not you, Reece. Truly, this has been an incredible evening. It’s me. I just…”
“Promise.” He lifted his hands. “I won’t rush you.”
“What about an evening sail after I get home from the library sometime next week?”
He shook his head as he followed her to the drain board with their dirty plates. “Can’t. I’m working. I’m off Friday.”
“I get off around three on Friday. Maybe I can pack us a picnic dinner. Or better yet, we can go to Pelican Point first for happy hour.” She placed their empty glasses on the counter and reached for the soap. “I fancy arriving at the bar by boat.”
“It’s a date.” He caught her hand. “No. You go. I’ll take care of all the cleaning.”
“But I want to do my part.”
He turned her in his arms and stroked her chin. “You’ve already done your part. You accepted my invitation to dine.”
“But not the rest of your invitation.” They both knew she meant more than his desire to take her for drinks and a midnight sail.
He gave her a lazy smile while studying her lips. She parted them slightly, thinking she should say more. With her butt wedged against the cabinets, he took advantage and leaned forward. She didn’t stop him. She wanted the kiss as much as he did, more.
The first tentative touch of his lips to hers ignited a fire deep inside. Placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder brought him closer. The kiss deepened, bridging the awkward gap that brought them to a new level of understanding.
After several moments of sensual tasting, of delving into the beginning of their physical bonding, he pulled away. His hooded look said it all.
“That was…”
“Incredible, amazing, stimulating…” His breathless delivery said as much as his words.
She nodded and slid out of his arms. “Yes. But that was also my cue to leave.”
Seventeen
Lilah trudged up the pebbled path to her front door, her mind solely on the evening’s events and Reece. Why had she been so quick to leave? After all, he was every woman’s dream man, the perfect candidate for an honest and fulfilling liaison.
“Honest?” Lilah snorted at her own single word. Already she’d started them out on the wrong foot by not telling her true identity, not confiding all the ghosts haunting her this past year. Guilt made her leave early. Guilt and fear.
She wasn’t afraid of the sex. No, she looked forward to becoming intimate with this man, of sharing that part of herself.
What she feared was disappointing him, of being less than what he wanted or needed. To be the woman he desired, she needed to come clean, to tell him everything; her marriage, the murder, her run ins with the media, her inability to cope with it all. Everything.
Friday. She’d use the week to rehearse exactly what she wanted to say and Friday, she’d introduce him to the real Lilah Johnson Randall. On their next date, she’d …
The front door gaped wide, and the wood had splintered around the lock. She froze at the evidence of an intruder.
An eerie surrealness enveloped the area, and she took a step back, unsure of her next move. Had someone broken in? Were they still inside? She’d locked the door but not the deadbolt. In this quiet area, she’d seen no need. She shivered, suddenly feeling violated. Panic threatened to consume her.
She took another step backward, tripped, and did a stumbling pivot. Running, she headed for her car. The keys lay at the bottom of her purse, and she fumbled to pull them from the depth of clutter. Once inside, she locked the jeep doors, took out her cell, and dialed the local police.
They answered almost immediately. “Your name please.”
“Lilah Johns – Randall.”
“Address.”
“508 Stella Lane on the southeast leg of Wautaga Lake.” She couldn’t believe how calm her voice sounded.
“What seems to be the trouble?” the dispatcher asked in a kind but efficient voice.
“I – the house…” Tears welled and her throat tightened. She cleared her airway and tried again. “I think someone’s in my house.”
“Where are you now?”
“Outside in my car.”
“Stay on the line Ms. Randall while I alert officers in the vicinity.”
Lilah leaned her head against the backseat and stared at the ceiling of her jeep. Shadows moved across the darkened interior from the swaying tree limbs overhead. A moment later, the female operator returned. “A squad car will be there soon. In the meantime, don’t try to enter your home.”
“Oh, believe me. I won’t. I’ve watched far too many cop shows and thrillers.” Surprisingly, her voice grew stronger now she knew help was coming. She thought about calling Reece but didn’t want to burden him so late at night and especially after running out on their date.
Even with the windows up, the night sounds invaded the small cab. A three-quarter moon illuminated the yard. As her eyes adjusted, details on silhouettes became more defined. Behind the curtained windows, nothing moved. Perhaps the perpetrator was gone. She longed to enter, to find out if anything had been damaged, but she stifled the urge.
Soon after making her call, a car pulled behind hers, the tires crunching on the gravel. She held her breath, waiting for the officers to investigate. Spots of light danced around the house to disappear within. The two uniformed men elected to use only flashlights to search out details of the crime. Thirty minutes later, lights flooded the inside of her home. At that point it seemed like hours before one of the policemen approached her car.
A tap on the window indicated he wanted her attention. She opened the door and climbed out.
“Ma’am, it’s safe to go inside. I’m Officer Parks and my partner is Officer Eubanks. We’ve already taken photos and dusted for prints, but now I need you to take inventory of anything that might be missing so I can add that to my report.”
A groan escaped her dry lips, but she followed the man inside, anxious to discover the full extent of the villain’s evil machinations. At the threshold, she paused and gulped a lungful of air.
The interior appeared as if someone had haphazardly tossed every object within reach. Cushions, books, CDs, videos; nothing had escaped the bastard’s brutality. The scene before her brought back memories of her husband’s office the night he lost his life.
Could this be the work of the same man, of her husband’s killer?
She shuddered.
“You all right, ma’am. Maybe you should sit.” The taller officer took her by the elbow, the one called Eubanks she thought. And where the hell should she sit?
“I’m fine.” She lied. She wasn’t fine. She was raving mad. Who the hell could have done this?
“Any ideas on who might want to harm you?” Parks looked down his long nose at Lilah.
“What makes you think he meant me harm?”
“Follow me.”
He led her to the bedroom where she found the same destruction and pointed to the mirror above her dresser. Sprawled in bold letters, the message, “You have something I want.”
“What on earth?” She stared at the threat and swallowed hard to calm the fear coursing through her veins. “I don’t understand.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I think you do,” Parks said. “I recognize your name and face. Do you think this has anything to do with your husband’s…”
“Don’t say it.” She held up a hand. “I guess it could. When Ben died, the office had been ransacked just like this, but I have no idea what the killer wanted and nothing was missing.”
“Do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”
She thought of Reece again, but quickly discarded the idea. Damn it, this was her home. She shouldn’t have to go anywhere else. “I know the door knob is busted, but does the deadbolt on the door still work?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then I’m not going anywhere. I have to clean this mess, and I won’t be driven from my home. Tomorrow, I’ll call and have a home security system installed.”
Parks gave her a disapproving frown. “I’ll see that a squad car paroles the area tonight, and we’ll make frequent stops by your place during the week. In the meantime…”
“I should report any suspicious activity. Oh wait. I’ll be right back.” She suddenly remembered the faxed image Detective Ames sent and went to her studio in search of the photo. She’d pulled it from her purse with the intention of showing Ashley upon her sister’s return from Knoxville. Surprisingly, the fiend hadn’t touched anything in her studio. Or so she thought.
She glanced at the drafting table she used for sketching. The photo was gone. The hairs at the back of her neck raised, making this seem less and less like a random burglary.
She hurried back to the living area where she’d left the two officers. “I had a photo of a man the detective working the murder case suspected of Ben’s death. But it’s not where I left it.”
“And the detective’s name?”
“Ames.”
Parks jotted down the information. “I’ll contact Ames in the morning. As for tonight, try to get some rest. Might need you to come to the station tomorrow so we can print you and eliminate your prints from the crime scene. We’ll be parked outside if you need anything else.”