Dangerously in Love (9 page)

“To die would be an awfully big adventure.” ― J.M. Barrie

Hill wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the den. He opened the humidor, admiring his handiwork, clipped a cigar, and lit it. At the window, as he stood watching the speeding train and smoking the cigar, he heard a faint knocking sound. At first, he thought it was residual noise from the passing train or traffic from the other side, but as he listened closer, it sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he looked around, but nothing was out of place, and the noise had subsided. He looked in the cabinets, checking to see if something may have shifted or fallen. Nothing. Then he heard the knocking again. It was coming from the mudroom, and peering through the glass in the door was Caitlin. Hill hurried over to let her in.

“When did you start locking the door?” Caitlin asked.

Hill pulled her into a hug, kissing her tenderly. “I’ve always locked the door. I just left it unlocked whenever I thought I’d have company . . . namely, you.”

“I brought something for you, but I can’t carry it. You’ll have to get it out of the car.”

Hill went to the car and came back toting a large framed picture wrapped in brown paper.

“Go ahead. Open it,” she urged.

Hill put the cigar between his teeth and ripped the wrapping paper from the frame with both hands. When he finished, he was looking at the backside. He lifted it onto the counter where he could admire the portrait. It was a pencil drawing of Caitlin, nearly nude. Only a sheer, silk scarf scantily covered her breasts. Her legs were posed to conceal her nudity below the waist. It was beautiful.

“Where will you hang it?”

“Prominently over the fireplace,” he joked.

Caitlin smirked but was clearly petrified that he wasn’t joking.

“I’ll hang it in my room where you’re the first person I see when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep.”

“Good. That means there won’t be other women in your bedroom.”

Hill paused for a moment and contemplated this. Every night, she slept in the same bed with another man and spent fleeting moments with him. Yet she seemed to have an expectation of exclusivity from him. He set the portrait on the floor, leaning its face against the kitchen island.

“I have another surprise, Hill,” she said as she unwrapped her sarong dress, allowing the fabric to drop to the floor. “Right here, right now . . . in your kitchen. You and me.” She gave a toothy grin.

Hill pulled Caitlin’s naked body against his, pushed her hair from her face, kissed her, and said, “I can’t do this with you anymore, Cate. There’s no future in it for me.”

“What? Hill? What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

“I can’t wait five years for your pre-nup to mature so you can divorce Adam, but I also can’t ask you to give up the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.”

“The pre-nup is ironclad. I had it reviewed by an attorney,” she said.

“No doubt. But this sneaking around has gotten old and stale, darlin’. I can’t tell my friends about you. We can’t go out in public. I can’t take you anywhere nice or go dancing with you, which is something you say you love.”

“I told you, I don’t need romance. I just need you,” she said. “And I love the stolen moments, the way you make love to me. No dance floor can come close to that.”

Hill smirked. “I love your body, Cate. And while I really enjoy making love to you, I can honestly get that anywhere without all the risk and hassle.”

Caitlin sank. She backed away, bumping into one of the counter chairs. Her eyes filled with tears that poured onto her cheeks. “You can’t do that, Hill. I love you. Don’t you believe me?”

“Yes, I believe you. But we have a messy detail called Adam.”

“Adam! Oh, how I wish he were dead right now!” she shouted.

Hill, without missing a beat said, “Me, too. But he’s not. And, I don’t want to keep doing this . . . hiding like I’m a punk. I can’t do it anymore. Not even for you, Cate.”

Before she could respond, the doorbell chimed. Hill went to the closest iPad, which was installed on the wall, and cued up the front outside camera. “What’s he doing here? Shit!” He looked at Caitlin, who was wiping her tears with a paper towel. “Put on your . . . whatever that is. You have to leave. Go now, out the mudroom.”

She nodded as she wrapped the sarong skillfully around her body. “Who is it?”

“A business associate. You have to go, Cate. Now.”

“Hill,” she said, “you can’t leave me. Not now. Can’t we work this out?”

He kissed her as the doorbell chimed once again. “I promise we’ll talk about this later. Go.”

***

After tying his robe, he grabbed the cigar that was no longer lit, then opened the door. Two rather large, barrel-chested men flanked Adam Church.

“Can we come in?” Adam asked, annoyed to find Hill in a robe.

Hill was reluctant. He had no idea what had sparked this impromptu visit, unless Adam had followed Caitlin to his place. But if he had followed her, he would have entered on the rear end of the property. There were only two very distinct entrances to the property. One road led to the front. A totally different road led to the back. Anyone who knew how to access the front had no idea of the back and vice versa. So had he followed Caitlin, he would have been at the back entrance where all the security was. So if he didn’t follow Caitlin, why was he here?

“Sure.” He opened the door wide enough to accommodate the large men. “Come in.”

All three walked in, looking around. One of the men continued walking toward the rear of the warehouse while the other stood near Hill. Adam sat on the two-seater.

“Where’s he going? What’s going on?” Hill asked.

“Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

Hill felt his heart skipping beats. Where was his bat when he needed it? He didn’t like the looks of things and suspected Adam knew something. Did he know about his affair with Caitlin? He tried to appear nonchalant, but his mind was racing.

“Rum? Tequila? Or beer?”

Adam cleared his throat. “Beer is fine.”

Hill walked into the kitchen, followed by one of Adam’s sidekicks. He returned with three beers.

“Sit down, Hill.” Adam waited until Hill sat. “I’m looking for my wife.”

“And so you came to my place?”

Adam nodded then pulled a business card out of his pocket and slid it across the cocktail table to Hill, who was sitting on the couch across from him.

“Why did
my wife
have your
home
address next to
our
bed?”

Hill looked down at the card, recognizing his business card. He picked it up and saw his address written on the back side. He shrugged. “I don’t know, Adam. Maybe she intended to send me a ‘thank you’ note. Who knows?”

“Why would my
wife
be thanking you, Hill?”

“For a job well done? The landscaping. . .” Hill speculated. The other big guy returned to the living room, shaking his head. Adam nodded at him.

“Did my wife come to see you, Hill? Don’t lie to me.”

The man standing beside Hill pulled a nine millimeter Glock from the holster at the small of his back and placed the barrel at Hill’s temple. A wave of fear and fury fell over Hill, but he hoped it didn’t show, although all the blood drained from his face, leaving him pallid.

“Tell your boy to take his gun from my head, Adam,” Hill threatened.

“Not until I’m satisfied you’re telling me the truth. Where. Is. My. Wife?”

“I’m not your wife’s keeper. I don’t know where she is and I, quite frankly, don’t give a shit where she is.”

Adam signaled the second man, who began breaking Hill’s decorative items—vases, crystals, framed pictures—one by one.

“Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck, Adam? That shit cost me a lot of money.”

“Where is my wife?”

“I don’t know.”

The man with the gun at his head unlocked the safety.

“For the last time, Hill. And I want you to think hard about this before you answer. I
know
she’s here.”

“I tell you what, Adam. Why don’t you search the house for her then? I keep telling you, I don’t know where your wife is. So if you’re going to shoot me, just do it. Fucking do it.”

“Okay,” Adam agreed as he stood, took the pistol from the gunman, and aimed it at Hill, who stared Adam in the eyes, looking hardcore. Hill shuddered and shielded his head with his arms when he heard two pops. The smell of gunpowder filled the room. Hill closed his eyes tightly, wondering when he would feel the pain—feel the burn. But it never came.

“She’s not here,” Adam said to the men. “If she were, I would have heard her scream or run when I fired the gun. She’s not here. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Adam stood over Hill and said, “If I catch you even
looking
at my wife, I’ll kill you. Thanks for the beer.” He patted Hill’s face—more like two light slaps—then tucked the gun into his belted waistband and left.

***

Hill rubbed his hand over his face and sighed with relief. He looked beside him and saw two bullet holes in his sofa then looked around at the mess Adam’s sidekick had made. Hill picked up one of the beers and guzzled it down. His hands were shaking, his heart racing. He yelled and hurled the empty beer bottle across the room where it shattered into a flurry of pieces onto the floor. He couldn’t calm down. He was still shaken. He guzzled another bottle of beer, hoping it would at least settle the trembling. It didn’t.

Remembering that Gabe and Ty had cleared all of their stuff from the Church residence because they’d finished the project, except for the final walk-through, he went to the truck to unload it. He hoped keeping busy would calm him down. And it did. After he removed the last thing from the truck, he noticed a briefcase. It wasn’t his. He thought that maybe it was Gabe’s or Ty’s. He threw it back in the truck so he wouldn’t forget to give it to them.

Back inside, he cleaned up the mess that had been made and took out the trash, including the sofa. He put the sofa in the parking area until bulk trash day. That done, he collected the two fragmented bullets from the plaster in the wall and repaired the holes. He put the bullet fragments in a container and placed it on the shelf along with the shell casings.

Sunday morning, Hill was still reeling from Adam’s visit the day before. He wanted revenge but knew he couldn’t win against Adam—especially not with his staff of armed bodyguards. No, he knew that would be a losing battle. But the one thing he did have that Adam feared losing was Caitlin. He wanted to see Caitlin and, dammit, nobody was going to stop him. Not even Adam. Hill decided he would go to see her . . . at her house and while Adam was in town
and
at home. But first, he went out for breakfast at a restaurant not too far from the Church property.

Knee deep into his buttermilk pancakes with apple butter and butter pecan syrup, he smelled the sweetest scent, followed by the sound of a sultry voice. It wasn’t husky but bordered on heavy. He recognized it. When he looked up, he saw it was Amelia Morales, the spitting image of Caitlin. He’d thought she was just passing through on her way to Spain, but apparently, she had decided to stay a little while longer.

“Hi Hill. May I?” she asked with her arm extended toward the seat across from him.

“Sure. Why not.”

“You must live nearby.”

“No, I work nearby,” Hill countered, with a mouthful of pancakes.

The waitress came by to ask Amelia if she’d like anything. She nodded and ordered coffee. Hill asked for a refill.

“So what gives me the pleasure,” Hill asked, wiping his mouth with the paper napkin.

“I was passing by and saw you, so I thought I’d stop in—you know, after that scintillating moment we shared,” she said in jest. Hill didn’t see the humor. As a matter of fact, he was so focused on his plan of action to see Caitlin that he hardly focused on Amelia. She leaned in close. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t,” she warned. The waitress returned with a fresh carafe of coffee and set it on the table after pouring a cupful for Amelia and refilling Hill’s cup.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Hill said.

She took a sip of her coffee and seemed startled by its awful bitterness. “Hill, Cate isn’t who you think she is.”

“Who is she then?”

“She’s dangerous.”

Hill chuckled. Amelia didn’t. She stared at Hill stoically.

“I’m serious. Do you think Adam frightens her?” She waited for Hill’s reaction, but he just sipped his coffee. “He doesn’t. Adam is child’s play for her. She. Is. Dangerous. Hill, watch your back.” On that note, she placed five dollars on the table and stood. She kissed Hill’s cheek. “Be careful, Hill. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. As I said, she isn’t who you think she is.”

He watched Amelia slink out of the restaurant.

***

Hill arrived at the rear edge of the property where his truck couldn’t be detected. He brought his tools as a cover, just in case. He grabbed his metal tamper, the one Adam had used to break his rib, and hurriedly walked along the massive property, shielding himself behind trees and structures along the way, until he arrived at the bungalow. He didn’t know if Adam monitored Caitlin’s incoming calls, so he hadn’t tried to text or call her. Still, he needed to somehow get her attention. But how? He could have pretended to work in the yard, but that would just alert Adam to his presence, and then he’d be watching like a hawk. So how could he get her attention? This was an all-around bad idea that he hadn’t thought through—making it not only a terrible plan, but reckless. And yet, he didn’t care.

He heard water splashing. It could have been the waterfall spilling into the pool, but it sounded more like someone swimming. He peered around the side of the bungalow and saw Adam looking out the window. He seemed to be looking for something. Hill wondered if there was any way Adam could see the truck from the window, but Caitlin had told him it couldn’t be seen. He’d have to trust that.

Then before he had to think about it any further, Caitlin strolled along the granite pathway he had made for her—donning a sheer sarong to conceal her thong bikini. She’d just left the pool and was heading to the cabana. Perfect. Hill waited until Adam walked away from the window, then jogged to the cabana and entered on the opposite end. When she emerged through the sliding door, Hill grabbed her and pinned her in the corner, kissing her fiercely.

“Hill,” she managed to say between kisses. “What are you doing here?” He was still kissing her, and she tried not to submit, although she’d periodically cave. “Adam’s here, you know.”

Hill nodded. “I had to see you, Cate. I need to feel you. I can’t deal with knowing that he’s touching you.”

“Adam doesn’t touch me, Hill. He has too many other women he touches.”

Hill cupped his hand around her behind and pulled her against his hardness. “Damn, you look good in this . . . this . . . bikini. I want you now, Cate.”

“We can’t . . .” she began, but Hill kissed her before she could say another word. His hands explored all the crests and curves of her body, reveling in the softness of her olive skin.

“Hill, Adam could be on his way here. You know how he is.”

But Hill ignored her. “I want to feel you, Cate. I need to feel you,” he said, kissing her, his tongue toying with hers. He gathered a handful of her hair and pulled her head to his, kissing her harder, biting her lip, sucking her neck, outlining the shell of her ear with his tongue.

“Why don’t I meet you at your place?” she asked Hill between gasps and moans and kisses.

Hill slid her thong down her shapely thighs, around her calves and, when he reached her ankles, she stepped out of them. Working his way upward, he kissed her legs between her thighs and unzipped his pants, releasing himself from their confines. He was so hard, aching with desire. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and rolled his tongue in the juncture of her thighs. She threw her head back, pulling him closer to her.

“You taste so good,” he said, gently caressing her sweet spot with his tongue, sucking, licking, grasping her gently between his teeth, his tongue brushing her. She squirmed and swiveled her hips, pulling his head in harder, closer.

He stood up, kissing her navel, then her chest, then her neck on his way up. He helped her onto her knees, spreading her wide enough to take him. Slowly, gently, he pressed into her and pulled back again. Then he pressed a little further and pulled back slowly. Then further, until he was slick with her desire.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Yes, Hill. Yes.”

He got up and sat on the bench, pulling her to him. She hoisted her sarong high enough to straddle him, working him inside of her with smooth glides of her hips. She slid up and down, grinding on him for a little while. She saw his eyes roll back and his mouth drop open. His hands grasped her waist, pushing her down on him as he went deeper, gyrating inside of her, impaling her with pleasure, making her body quiver and quake. “That’s it, darlin’,” he said. “Keep it up,” he said.

She couldn’t help herself, she got caught up in the moment and asked, “Is this what you want, baby?” He nodded, biting his bottom lip, his eyes closed, hips thrusting, grabbing her so tight, she could hardly move. “Here you go, baby,” she said, swerving and grinding on him. “You like that?” she asked.

He nodded and pushed hard into her, thrashing his body against hers on the limited space of the narrow bench. She felt the sensations of his explosive pulsations inside of her as he yelled out, “Aaahhh, yes!” Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his body went limp. She leaned in to kiss his lips. Hill pressed against her shoulders, pushing her back a little so he could look into her eyes. He knew right then, in that moment, what he wanted to do—no, what he
needed
to do.

“How do you call me—on the phone?” Hill asked.

“I use my Google Voice app. Why? What’s going on?”

“What does that mean, Google Voice app? I mean, can your husband or anybody trace the calls back to me?”

She shook her head. “No, the app rings to my phone showing my Google number, not the caller’s number. And when I make outgoing calls, I call through the app. None of my outgoing calls show up on my phone bill.”

He was ecstatic at first that she had been so clever and careful, but it also disturbed him that she was so calculating. Even down to the phone calls she made.

“From the very beginning?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve always called me from your Google Voice app?”

“Yes. That’s the number you have for me. You call my Google Voice number.”

“Why do I get the impression you’ve done this many times before?”

“No, Hill. I’ve never done this before. I just know Adam. He’s smart and calculating—and always thinking ahead. I had to think ahead of him from the first time that I called you—even if it never amounted to anything between us. I’d never want him to find out about you—about us. Why all the questions? What’s going on, Hill? What’s happened?”

He rested his hands on her waist and pulled her a little closer, pressing his forehead against hers. He whispered, “We’re going to kill him.”