Haunting Rachel (12 page)

“I was just resting my eyes,” she explained.

“Are they rested?”

“I think so.”

He kissed her, taking his time about it. One big hand
was wrapped gently around her throat, while the other one pushed the covers down and began a leisurely wandering.

Mercy tried her best not to purr out loud.

“How would you like to spend the whole weekend in here with me?” he murmured, his mouth replacing his hand on her throat.

She heard an odd sound, and thought it was probably her, purring. She cleared her throat “What? The whole weekend? In bed?”

“Why not?” His mouth moved lower.

Mercy clutched a handful of sheet at her hip. “Um … it sounds … very hedonistic.” The words were followed by another of those throaty murmurs, and she felt a vague embarrassment. Damn the man, did he
have
to reduce her to incoherent sounds?

His laugh against her skin was a caressing rumble. “I like that word. Shall we be hedonists?”

She let go of the sheet and clutched at him. “Nick, for God’s sake—stop
talking.”

With another laugh, he did.

Rachel was in her father’s study on Saturday morning, when a still-unnerved Fiona announced Adam and quickly retreated, crossing herself once again.

“Hello,” Rachel said. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself,” he said, coming toward her. “But I thought maybe I could take you to lunch?”

She had been working at the drafting table and sent a surprised look at her watch. “It’s nearly noon? I had no idea.” After a virtually sleepless night it had taken her hours and another hot bath to work most of the stiffness
and soreness out of her body; her unsettled thoughts and emotions had been far less easy to tame, and only fierce concentration on this work had steadied her somewhat. But she knew her control was uncertain at best.

“Looks like you’ve been busy.” He nodded toward the sketches on the table. “Designs for the new store?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going forward with the scheme?”

“Of course.”

He shifted a bit restlessly and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I guess it’d be useless to ask you to put off moving on that for a while?”

“Until?”

“Until the police have the fire marshal’s report on the explosion. Until I can nose around a bit, ask some questions.”

Rachel frowned at him. “Ask who what kind of questions?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Yet. But I know I’d like to talk to the mechanic who examined your car. Maybe to your lawyer.”

“Why him?”

“You come home to settle your parents’ estate and things start happening. Maybe there’s no connection—and maybe there is. Maybe something your father was involved in has survived him.”

“My father had no enemies.”

“Rachel, every rich man has enemies.”

She shook her head, but instead of arguing, said, “I don’t think you want to talk to Graham. He … wouldn’t be very forthcoming.”

“Most lawyers aren’t. But I’m sure he has your best interests at heart.”

“Adam, I appreciate your concern, but—”

“But it isn’t any of my business?”

She hesitated. “I wasn’t going to say that. It’s just … I don’t need a watchdog. Or a bloodhound, for that matter. I don’t believe anyone’s trying to hurt me. Just accidents, that’s all.”

“Rachel, I know I’m a virtual stranger to you, and there’s no reason on earth why you should listen to me. Except one.”

“Which is?”

“I’m asking you to.”

After a moment, Rachel moved away from him to lean against the edge of her father’s desk. She was still shaky, and hoped he couldn’t see it. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Instead of coming toward her, he respected the distance she had put between them and remained by her drafting table. “Look, I don’t know if there’s someone out there who’s a threat to you. All I do know is that both of us will feel better when we eliminate the possibility. And the only way to do that is to find a few answers.”

She shook her head slightly. “Suppose the mechanic tells you he’s positive the brake line was cut. What then?”

“Then we try to find out who had access to the car between the last time it was safely driven and when you got in.”

“And if the fire marshal’s report says the explosion was arson?”

“Then we try to find out who was seen near the building yesterday morning before we arrived.”

“But that won’t tell us if I was meant to be a target.”

“It will if we find the arsonist.”

“Isn’t that for the police to do?”

“The police have a city to take care of. We can focus entirely on you.”

Rachel shook her head again. “Adam, I’m not a cop. Or any kind of investigator.”

“I know that. I’m not either. But I know how to find answers. All I’m asking is that you let me try.”

“I thought you were going back to California.”

“Not for a while.” He looked at her steadily. “A staff I trust is running the company for me. Anything I have to do I can do by phone and fax, or with my laptop. Right now this is more important to me.”

Rachel asked the question before she could stop herself. “Why?”

“I could say it’s because you’re the daughter of the man I owe everything to.”

“You could. Would it be true?” At that moment, she forgot about being sore and shaky and afraid.

“Partly.”

Rachel shied away from pressing for anything further. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“All right, I’ll accept that. For now.”

“And you’ll let me try to find out what’s going on?”

She smiled briefly. “I get the feeling I couldn’t stop you if I tried. But you can forget about talking to Graham. He wouldn’t tell you anything about Dad’s business. Or mine, for that matter.”

Adam frowned. “Have you gone through Duncan’s personal papers yet?”

Rachel glanced over her shoulder at the huge desk. “I barely made a start. A few letters so far. There’s an awful lot packed into this desk. I think Dad kept every scrap of paper he wrote a note on. And I haven’t even gotten that far with the little desk in his bedroom.”

Slowly, Adam said, “I know you want to go forward with your plans for the store, Rachel. And I know it’s
… less painful to postpone going through your father’s things. But it needs to be done.”

“You’re so sure the answer’s there? That my father made an enemy so vicious that now he’s after me?”

“I think we have to rule it out. Rachel, none of us ever knows all the secrets of the people we’re close to. I’m absolutely positive your father was an honorable man, and if he ever broke the law, it would come as a shock to me. But he was a wealthy man who dealt with a wide range of people. It isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he got involved in something that became dangerous. That he might have made an enemy.”

Reluctantly, Rachel nodded. “I accept that. But an enemy coming after me now? I can’t believe that.”

“The explosion—”

“A random arsonist. You heard what the police said.”

Before she could continue, the phone on her father’s desk rang. With a slight smile of apology, Rachel went around to sit in the swivel chair and answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Miss Grant?”

“Yes?”

“Miss Grant, this is Sharon Wilkins, from the real estate office. I just wanted to call you and say how horrified we are about that explosion.”

“A random arsonist,” Rachel said lightly. “None of you could have known it was going to happen, Sharon. It’s just a shame the building’s gone now.”

“Yes—but at least it was insured.” The agent’s voice became brisk. “Miss Grant, I didn’t want to bother you, on a Saturday and all, but I did want to assure you that if you do lease a property we’re representing, we’ll make sure security is part of the package.”

“Thanks, Sharon. As a matter of fact, I’ve made up my
mind. I want to lease the store on Queen Street.” She was aware of Adam moving restlessly, but didn’t look at him. “So if you could get the papers ready?”

“Absolutely. I can have everything ready for your signature by Monday afternoon.”

“Great.”

“I’ll see you then. Oh—and, Miss Grant?” “Yes?”

“Did your friend find you?”

“My friend?”

“Yes. He called here just after you left yesterday morning, very eager to talk to you.”

Rachel felt a slow chill crawl up her spine. “So—you told him what stores I was going to be looking at? The addresses?”

“Well, yes.” Sharon’s voice became anxious. “I just assumed— He knew all about your plans for a boutique, and I assumed he was somehow working with you. If I did the wrong thing—”

“No.” Rachel cleared her throat. “No, of course not. And, yes—he found me. I’ll see you Monday, Sharon.”

Gently, she hung up the phone.

“Rachel?”

She looked at Adam, vaguely surprised to find that he had come around the desk and knelt beside her chair. “The strangest thing.”

“Someone knew where you’d be yesterday? Is that what she told you?” His voice was grim.

“Yes. Someone called the real estate office. A man. He knew about the boutique idea. So she told him.”

“So that explosion could have been meant for you.”

Rachel drew a breath.

And for the first time, she really believed it.

It was very possible that someone wanted her dead.

dam wanted to take her to lunch, but Rachel was too shaken by the phone call, and he didn’t press her. Instead, Fiona brought soup and sandwiches to the library. Rachel hardly touched the meal, but she was able to get the shakes under control by the time she pushed her plate away.

“Stop watching me,” she told him. “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t watching you, I was looking at you.” He smiled slightly. “Don’t ask me to stop doing that. And you’re not fine. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t scared and worried.”

“I just can’t quite get my mind around the idea that someone might want to kill me.”

“We still don’t know that for sure,” he said, now playing devil’s advocate. “Whoever called the real estate office may have really wanted to see you. Maybe he got there after the explosion, and didn’t try to approach you in all the confusion.”

“I don’t know who it would have been.”

“How about Graham Becket?”

Instantly, Rachel shook her head. “He wouldn’t have told Sharon he was my friend. He would have said he was my attorney.” She smiled. “He likes the sound of it.”

Adam leaned his forearms on the desk they were using as a dining table. “Can you think of anyone else? Any reason why someone would have wanted to find you yesterday?”

“No. No one who knew about the plans for the boutique. That’s where the list gets really short.” “Me,” he said.

“Yes, but—logically—you were with me the whole time. Graham knows. My uncle Cam. Nicholas Ross. Any of them could have told someone else, but why would they?”

“Maybe we’d better ask.”

Rachel grimaced. “Why don’t you ask Nick? I mean, since you two are friends. He unnerves me.”

“I can deal with Nick,” Adam said.

“I’ll ask Cam later. And call Graham.”

Reluctantly, Adam said, “Do you suspect any of them?”

She didn’t immediately say no. Instead, she replied with a carefully maintained detachment. “I have a will. Or, rather, a trust. It was updated after Mom and Dad were killed. If I were to die anytime soon, childless, Cam would get the house and contents. Nick would get my shares in the bank. Graham would get a relatively small bequest, some beach property. Is any of that enough to kill for?”

Adam reached across the desk and took her hand. “I don’t think that’s it, Rachel. This all started when you came home to Richmond to settle your father’s estate. I think we have to look there first.”

She looked down at his hand and, almost absently, said, “It’s taken months to sort out Dad’s business affairs at the bank. Sorting out his personal affairs could take just as long.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to do this. To watch over me. No matter what Dad did for you, he wouldn’t expect—”

“Rachel.”

She looked up and met his gaze. That was very different from Thomas, that gaze. The color of his eyes, their intensity. There was something in them that made her breath catch in the back of her throat.

His fingers tightened around hers. “Tell me not to say it. Tell me you’re not ready to hear it.”

Nobody had ever looked at her like that before. Not even Thomas. For just an instant, she hesitated, almost not breathing. But then she leaned back in her chair and very gently pulled her hand from his grasp. Her heart was pounding, and she didn’t know if it was excitement or terror. “I’m not ready. Adam, we barely know each other—”

“I know all I need to know.” But he was smiling faintly, that naked look in his eyes gone now. Or hidden. “But I also know you need time.”

“Yes. It’s an understatement to say there’s a lot going on in my life right now. The timing is—”

“Lousy. Yeah, I know. Rachel, listen to me. I won’t push. I learned a long time ago how to be patient. And I am not going to let anything happen to you. All right?”