In The Dead Of Night. Linda Castillo

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СКАЧАТЬ I’m here,” he said.

      “We wouldn’t want those ghosts getting any ideas.”

      He gave her a half smile. “Everyone knows they do their best work in the dark.”

      The tension drained from her body when he started toward the utility room and, beyond, the garage where the fuse box was located. Using the dim light slanting in through the window, she began searching for another plate or saucer to use as a candleholder.

      “Fuses look fine.”

      She jolted at the closeness of his voice and nearly dropped the saucer she’d found. He was standing right behind her, so close she could smell the piney-woods scent of his aftershave. For the first time she realized just how tall he was. At least six-three or maybe six-four. He towered over her five-foot-three-inch frame. Uncle Nicholas had been tall….

      Nick stared at her intently. “You’re not still afraid of storms, are you?”

      “Of course not,” she said a little too quickly.

      One side of his mouth curved. “Looks like you’ll have to ride this one out in the dark.”

      “Thanks for coming by. And for checking the fuses.” She wanted to say more, but what? Thank you for not hating me. I’m sorry my father ruined your childhood. Oh, and by the way, he didn’t do it….

      The words flitted through her mind, but she didn’t voice them. Even though she was no longer convinced her father had done anything wrong that night, she needed to figure out who to trust—and find proof of her suspicions—before going to the police.

      “Just doing my job.” His gaze flicked to the saucer in her hand. Usurping it from her, he set the candle on it and dug out a match. “This should help keep the ghosts away.”

      “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

      “Don’t you?”

      “Not for a second. Don’t tell me you do.”

      “I guess it depends on the ghost.” He set the saucer on the counter. “Hopefully the utility crews will get the transformer up and working in the next couple of hours.”

      “Does the electricity go out often up here?”

      “They don’t call this stretch of beach the Lost Coast for nothing.” He stood there a moment, studying her. “How long will you be in town?”

      “I’m not sure,” she answered. “A few days. Maybe a week.”

      “Any particular reason you’re back?”

      Sara wished it were lighter so she could gauge his expression. Was it an idle question? Or was he uneasy that someone was sniffing around a mystery that, in the minds of a few, had never been solved? Somewhere in the back of her mind, the caller’s voice echoed eerily. Don’t trust anyone….

      “Family business,” she said vaguely.

      “I see.” But his expression told her he didn’t. “How’s your sister?”

      “Sonia’s doing great. She and her husband live in Los Angeles now. She thinks I’m a nut for staying here.”

      “It’s not exactly the Ritz.”

      She smiled, but it felt brittle on her face. “I think she was more concerned about how the citizens of Cape Darkwood would react.”

      As if realizing to whom she was referring, Nick sobered and shoved his hands into his pockets. “There might be a few people in this town who can’t differentiate between what your father did twenty years ago and you.”

      “What are you saying?”

      “Some people have short memories and small minds. If you run into any hostility, give me a call.”

      “I hope I don’t.” But Sara knew she probably would. Emotions had run high and hot in Cape Darkwood after her father had allegedly shot and killed his pretty young wife and her lover, then himself, leaving two little girls without parents, a little boy without a father.

      She looked at Nick. “It seems like if anyone in this town has a right to be angry with the Douglas family, it’s you.”

      “I wasn’t the only one hurt that night.”

      The statement made Sara think of Nick’s mother. Laurel Tyson had been widowed at the age of thirty and left with a mountain of bills and a young boy to raise. Sara had been too distraught to remember much about her parents’ funeral, but she would never forget the look of hatred in Laurel Tyson’s eyes.

      “How’s your mother, Nick?”

      “She’s doing fine. Owns an antique shop and a couple of bed-and-breakfasts in town.” His expression darkened. “But then, you knew about the B&Bs, didn’t you?”

      Sara nodded.

      “Then you’ve already realized it might be a good idea for you to steer clear of her.”

      His meaning was not lost on Sara. She’d often wondered if Laurel Tyson had recovered from the grief and scandal surrounding her husband’s murder.

      “Thanks for the warning.”

      He studied her a moment longer, then touched the brim of his cap. “Welcome back, Sara.”

      At that he started for the door, leaving in his wake the smell of pine and rain and the undeniable feeling that she would see him again.

      THE MEMORY of her sultry perfume still danced in his head when Nick climbed into his cruiser. Sara Douglas was a far cry from the freckle-faced little girl he’d played hide and seek with some twenty years ago. She’d grown into a gypsy-eyed beauty with a throaty laugh and a body any Hollywood actress would give her right hand to possess.

      As a man, he’d enjoyed seeing her, talking to her. Touching her, an annoying little voice chimed in. But as a cop, he knew her return to Cape Darkwood spelled trouble. He couldn’t help but wonder why she’d really come back. He didn’t buy the family-business bit. Why would she fly all the way from San Diego to Cape Darkwood and spend a week in a dilapidated mansion when most business matters could be handled via phone? The mansion was barely habitable. Especially taking into consideration what had happened there twenty years ago.

      But Nick knew why she hadn’t stayed at one of the bed-and-breakfasts in town. His mother owned both of them. Sara must have done her homework and realized it would have been an uncomfortable situation to say the least.

      Thoughts of his mother elicited a sigh. He’d lied to her when he’d said his mother was doing okay. Laurel Tyson had never recovered from the events of that summer night twenty years ago. Nick had never been sure if her bitterness stemmed from the fact that her husband had been having an affair or that he’d been gunned down for it. Whatever the case, her happiness had ended that night right along with Nick’s childhood. Neither of them needed the past dredged up.

      As he started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, he decided Sara Douglas bore watching. He was the chief of police, after all. It was his job СКАЧАТЬ