Chapter Twelve
They slept later than usual Sunday morning. Lindsey’s face still showed signs of strain that concerned Nick. He tried to talk her into breakfast in bed, but she was having none of it. Something was bothering her, and he was damn sure going to get it out of her. For some reason last night, she’d pulled away from him. He could almost see the distance. If she hadn’t had the nightmare, would she even have let him touch her?
He scoured his brain, trying to think of anything he might have said or done, but he came up empty. Finally, he left her to dress while he went downstairs to check on his crew, who’d arrived early again to finish up the security job. But he wasn’t done with this. One way or another, he’d get it out of her.
“The alarm system is nearly set to go,” he announced when he joined Lindsey at the kitchen table. He bent to brush his lips against hers, but she turned her head giving him her cheek. He stared at her for a moment before he sat down. Okay, this was going to stop, just as soon as he got her alone.
Mary served them enough food for an army, having already fed the men from Guardian as well as the ranch hands.
“How much longer until they’re finished?” Lindsey asked.
“They’ve got about another hour’s work ahead of them, and then they’ll be done. Before the guys leave, we’ll go through it and make sure everyone knows how the system works in every building. I’ll feel a little better when it’s finally turned on.”
Ruben, who was drinking a cup of coffee, grunted and automatically reached for the gun at his back. Nick smothered a smile, because it was the same thing he was tempted to do. He was determined to keep everyone as safe as possible, and the alarm system gave them an edge they didn’t have before.
He was pleased at how quickly Mary and Ruben, for all their protests, picked up the procedure. With each test he ran, Nick checked at the office to make sure everything was working perfectly. Finally, he was satisfied and sent the crew on its way.
“Come on.” Lindsey tugged on his hand. “Now that we’re electronically safe, can we get back to the boxes?”
Mary followed them upstairs with a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses. “Thirsty work,” was all she said before clumping away.
“Let’s talk a minute first.” Nick dropped into the big armchair by her bed. He tried pulling her into his lap, but she tugged her hand away and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Okay.” Lindsey folded her hands primly in her lap and stared at him. He could badger her all he wanted, but she was going to put space between them. He could have Stacy and leave her alone. “Talk.”
Nick stared right back at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it. Problem one. Your stalker and your nightmare. My inner alarm system is telling me the two might be connected.”
Lindsey frowned. “But how? I don’t even know what the nightmares mean, except someone’s drowning and wants me to save them. I’ve never lived near water in my life or swum in anything larger than a small lake. And that was when I was a lot younger.”
And since the dreams started, swimming has definitely not been on my agenda. Taking a shower is all I can manage without freaking out.
“But there’s water in some of the photos,” he reminded her. “That means it plays some role in your life. There’s a reason your mother had this stuff taped up and hidden away.” He rubbed his chin. “I just wish I knew what kept her from destroying everything. My grandmother would say a message is trying to get through to you.” He grinned. “My grandmother hasn’t been wrong too often. Tomorrow, I’m going to get the office started on trying to trace some of these people.”
“All right,” she agreed. “What’s the second thing?”
He studied her for so long a feeling of unease pulled at her. “What? Is it worse than the stalker?”
“I’m trying to figure out what’s changed between us since yesterday morning. One minute we’re fine, the next I feel like I’m in a deep freeze zone.”
Lindsey dropped her gaze to her hands, unable to bring herself to look at him. “I told you last night. I think everything’s happened too fast. For me, anyway. I’m not used to this. I need to take a step back.”
She could feel his eyes boring holes in her.
Finally, he pushed himself out of the chair. “Fine. Let’s drop it for now and get back to work here.”
She felt a mixture of relief and regret. Why didn’t he push harder? Why didn’t he ask if something happened? But he wouldn’t and she knew it. If she was truthful with herself, he was probably relieved.
They followed the same procedure with the contents of the boxes as the day before. Pull out photos, try to match them to others in the carefully arranged piles, look for inscriptions on the back. An hour had passed when they found the first clue to any identification.
“Nick, look.” Lindsey tried to keep the excitement from her voice. “Here’s a picture that was taken at the same beach, with a bunch of people, and there’s a lighthouse in the background. See? It’s pretty clear.” She handed over the photo.
He looked at it carefully. “Good. This isn’t much, but it’s something. When we get done, I’m going to scan it and email it to the office so someone can start looking for a match. No sense waiting until tomorrow.”
“Today? But it’s Sunday.”
“Lindsey, Guardian runs twenty-four/seven. Problems don’t confine themselves to business hours. And I don’t really want to wait on this stuff.”
Under the careless piles of photos in the remaining boxes, they found more correspondence between Carrie and Renee. As in the previous letters, the women were mostly concerned with the little girl, Barbara, and the coming baby. They were frustrated in their attempts to get Marie and Brent to take the situation more seriously but didn’t go into further explanation of exactly what that situation was.
“These are obviously the grandmothers,” Nick told her. “And they’re very good friends.”
“Do you think they could be my grandmothers?” Lindsey stared at one of the letters she was holding.
“Anything is possible, Lindsey.” He turned over another letter. “But right now, we’re only speculating.”
“Oh, here it says the baby was finally born.” Lindsey read from the page in her hand. “It’s a boy. Charles. Marie and Brent are very excited. Carrie is panicky, though. She’s still worried about Barbara.”
“Here’s another letter,” Nick said, pulling a thin sheet of notepaper from the pile. “It’s dated much later than the one you’re reading. Carrie wants Renee to convince Brent to take Marie and Charles to the cottage and leave Barbara at home with the nanny. The little boy’s first birthday is coming, and she has an uneasy feeling.”
Lindsey studied the photo she’d picked up. “I wonder if they listened to Renee.”
“Apparently not, because here’s a picture of the happy family—mother, father, daughter, and son.” Nick handed the photo to her. “I guess they made it to the beach together. Recognize anyone?”
Lindsey took the photo from him and nearly passed out. Her hands began to shake.
“Lindsey?” Nick reached out and put his hands on her arms. He tried to take the photo from her, but she had a death grip on it. “What is it? What do you see? You look like you’re going to faint.”
“Oh, Nick. Oh, my God.” She pulled away from him and thrust the photo at him. “These people? They’re my mother and father.”
“What? Are you sure? Maybe you should take another look.”
“I don’t have to. I recognize them.” She took the photo back and stared at it again. “They’re a lot younger, but it’s definitely them. Here, I’ll show you.” She grabbed two small, framed photos from the table next to the chair and put them down beside the one from the box. “See? It’s the same people.”
Nick looked at them closely. “You’re right. There’s no mistaking it. That man and woman are your parents.”
“But their names were different,” she burst out. “Their names were Andrew and Elizabeth, not Brent and Marie like it says here. Nick, what’s going on? What is this about? And who are the children? They can’t be my sister and brother. I was an only child.”
“Take it easy.” When Nick tried to pull her into his arms, she stiffened and tried to push him away. She even turned her face away from his attempt at a reassuring caress on her cheek. “Let’s keep this picture separate and see what else we can find.”
“Open the last box,” she demanded. “Open it now, Nick.”
He barely had the tape cut away and the lid removed before she was digging into it furiously. She pulled out two handfuls of documents and began to scan through them rapidly. Suddenly, she yanked one out of the pile.
“Here. This is another letter between the grandmothers. From Renee to Carrie.” Lindsey’s hands were shaking. “She says the tragedy is destroying her. She can’t eat or sleep. She doesn’t know how she will cope with it. She says she prays for Marie and Brent and the children, that they will find peace in heaven. My God, did they die?” She shook her head in frustration. “But it doesn’t make sense. My parents were alive for a long time after this. I don’t understand.”
“Okay.” Nick plucked another sheet from the pile in his hand. “Here’s one from Carrie to Renee, the same kind of stuff. Looks like an answer to the letter you’re holding.”
“What does she say?”
“Just that she feels the same, she doesn’t know how to deal with the tragedy. She wishes Brent and Marie had listened and maybe this could have been averted. She doesn’t think so, though. She says this was a heartbreak waiting to happen. She is so distraught she doesn’t know what to do.”
“We have to find out who these people are,” Lindsey said, raking her fingers through her hair. “And where they are. Something is terribly wrong here, Nick.”
“Here’s another piece of the puzzle, although a very small one.” He studied the scrap of paper in his hand. “At least it’s something else I can track down.”
“What? What is it?”
He held out the paper. “It’s part of a newspaper clipping, but most of it’s been torn away. See? You can read the name, The Beach Recorder, and a part of the headline, but that’s all.”
“What does it say?” she demanded, trying to reach for it.
“All that’s left is the first part of the headline Tragedy Strikes Young… That’s all.” Nick put it to the side. “It gives us a starting point, though. I’ll scan this with the pictures and shoot them to the office. I need to find out who’s monitoring email traffic today and tell them what I want them to do.”
Nick pulled his laptop out of the big metal case he carried everywhere and booted it up. He got the network name and password from Lindsey then scanned the documents into his cell phone and sent them to Guardian. Lindsey tried to sit patiently while he called his office and tracked down the person he needed.
“Start right away,” he ordered, after telling him what he wanted. “This is a priority. Call someone else in if you have to, but I want something back by the time I call tomorrow morning.”
Finished, he closed the laptop and set it aside.
“I’m going to pack everything away in some sort of order,” he told Lindsey. “That way we can find something quickly if we have to. I want you to lie down and rest before supper.”
She wanted to tell him he didn’t have to keep pretending such concern for her but just shook her head instead. “I can’t rest. I’m too wound up. My head is spinning. Let me check my messages on my cell phone and then walk down to see the horses. That always makes me feel better.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll just turn in early tonight, then and get some sleep.”
He better understand that sleep is all we’ll be getting.
To distract herself, she clicked through her cell messages. Unprepared for one that jumped out at her, she dropping the phone and bit off a scream. She barely heard Nick pick up the phone from where she dropped it or the curse he muttered under his breath. All she could think of was the message.
I’m still watching you. You can’t get away.
Nick barely caught her as she crumpled in his arms.
****
She was floating, suspended somewhere, weightless. If she kept her eyes closed, she was sure she could stay this way forever.
“Lindsey?”
The voice sounded far away, familiar, warm. She reached for it, but it was so elusive. “Lindsey, honey, can you hear me?”
She felt something wet and cold on her head and hands rubbing at her wrists. The same voice was shouting, “Mary? Mary, can you come up here?”
Lindsey stirred at that, the floating feeling dissipating, and forced her eyes open. She turned her head and realized she was lying on her bed. “Nick?”
“Right here, honey.”
Then Mary’s voice. “Ruben, go downstairs and get me the phone number for the doctor.”
Lindsey looked over Nick’s shoulder to see both Ruben and Mary standing behind him. “No doctor. Please. I’m okay.” She tried to sit up.
“Uh-uh.” Nick pushed her back onto the pillows. “No getting up for you right now.”
“No doctor, Mary,” she repeated. She closed her eyes again, and then pushed them open. “I just feel really stupid. I never faint.”
“I never should have told you to go through all that old stuff.” Mary wrung her hands. “It’s too much for you, niña. Better burned and forgotten.”
“No, you’re wrong,” Lindsey told her. The memory of the text message swept into her brain, and her pulse skipped. “And it wasn’t the boxes we were going through that did this. I got a message on my cell phone from the stalker, and it startled me.”
“I’d say startled is not the word, little one,” Ruben said. “You fainted, and you look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks, Ruben.” She tried to grin. “Compliments always make me feel better.”
“Hold on a minute, Lindsey.” Nick stood up from where he sat on the edge of the bed. “I need to make a call.”
He moved to a corner of the room, and Lindsey heard him punch in a number. He spoke quietly for a few minutes, then hung up and came back to sit beside her.
Mary had gone into the bathroom to wet the cloth again and now hovered nervously beside the bed.
“She’ll be okay,” Nick told the older woman. “I’ll get her into bed. But maybe you could make her some strong tea?”
“Strong tea with a shot of whiskey,” Mary agreed. “She needs to get some color back.”
“That’ll be good. Just yell when it’s ready, and I’ll come get it.”
Nick shooed everyone out of the room, then lifted Lindsey off the bed and stripped off her clothes. She wanted to protest but couldn’t find the strength. He found her sleep shirt from the previous night and pulled it gently over her head. “I’ll go check on that tea and bring it right up to you. And I want you to drink it all.”
“All right.” She bit her lip, uncomfortable at what she was about to ask him. She didn’t want to send him mixed signals. She sure didn’t want to seem so needy. But more than that, at this moment, she didn’t want to be alone. “Will you stay up here with me?”
“Sure.” He kissed her forehead. “Count on it.”
He sat with her while she drank the tea laced with whiskey, then made her lie down, stretching out beside her. At first she thought about pushing him away. The problem was, she also wanted him next to her. Wanted his warmth and the safety of his body. Wanted to feel what he made her feel.
Okay, I’m a fool and a sucker, but right now I don’t care.
Nick began to stroke her, his hand caressing first her shoulders, then her arm. Light, feathery touches. Then, pausing only a moment as if waiting for her to stop him, he eased up the nightshirt and cupped one breast. She loved the warm, rough feel of his hands and the brush of his thumb over her nipple. Right now, in spite of her inner conflict, she needed this to take away the fear she couldn’t seem to push away. She nestled her head into him and gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her.
Nick nipped the lobe of one ear, then stroked it with his tongue. He paused a moment, as if waiting for her to stop him, but when she arched herself against him, he continued exploring her body. Pressed against him, she could feel the heavy thickness of his cock even through the fabric of his jeans. Without thinking, she eased her hand out from beneath the covers, released the snap on his pants and drew down the zipper. His grip on her tightened when she slid her hand inside his boxers and closed her fingers around his shaft.
The moment she tightened her grip and began to stroke her fingers up and down, he sucked in a breath. “You’d better mean business, darlin’, or else you can stop now.”
“I mean it,” she assured hm. At least the need for physical satisfaction. And for something to take away the terror of my nightmares.
“Then let’s give you better access.”
He drew back the covers, and before she could organize her brain, he had stripped both of them and tossed their clothing to the side. Then, as if desperate to tear down the barrier she was throwing up between them, he rolled her onto her back, spread her legs wide, and slowly began to lick every inch of her hungry, pulsing sex. He stroked her wet flesh with his tongue, teased her clit with light nips of his teeth, and placed a row of sucking kisses on the lips of her sex.
Immediately, heat surged through her and her pulse accelerated. Her need for him shot into high gear. When he thrust his tongue inside her, she nearly jackknifed, the sensation was so erotic.
“Yes,” she hissed as she pressed her feet to the mattress and tried to lift herself to him. But then she nearly lost her mind when he coated one finger with her juices and painted the tight pucker of her rear opening.
“One of these nights, I’m going to fuck you here,” he told her in a gravelly voice. “Then you’ll really belong to me.”
“Yes. Whatever.” She tossed her head back and forth, so aroused, so on the edge, she would have let him do anything. She tried to twist her body and reach for his shaft, but he kept her pinned in place.
“No. This is for you. For us.”
Then, abruptly, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks, lifted her, and drove inside her.
“Oh, god,” she cried and locked her ankles at the small of his back.
There was no further buildup, no slow strokes and hot kisses as he pounded into her. This was hot, hard sex as he drove into her again and again.
Sliding one hand between them, he found her clit and tugged on it until she screamed with need. At the moment she thought she would lose her mind if he didn’t at last bring her to orgasm, he thrust once, twice, three times, hard and fast, and they exploded together. The spasms shook them so hard she was afraid her bones would crack, but she hung on tightly and rode out the storm with him, consumed by the shattering climax.
As the last shudders subsided, she lowered her legs, and Nick eased himself from her body. He pulled her against him, curling his hot, hard frame around her, not saying a word, just holding her.
Finally, he kissed her on the cheek then eased the covers over her. “I’m going downstairs to take care of some things. I want to make some more calls and not disturb you while I do it.” He kissed her again. “Try to sleep a little, okay?”
She wanted to ask him if he was going to call Stacy, but she didn’t want to know. Instead, she lay there, still trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heart. Thinking about the frantic almost desperate coupling that had just happened and wondering what was driving them. Surely it was a mistake on her part when another woman hovered in the background, yet she’d needed that intense connection. The locking together of their bodies.
But what had driven Nick? And what message had it sent to either of them.
Her head hurt from thinking so she closed her eyes, trying to shut out everything, and actually slept for a long dreamless time. She awoke when she felt the mattress dip beside her.
“Better?” Nick was leaning over her, his arms braced on either side of her.
Her immediate reaction was to push him away, but she was too exhausted, despite the nap, to get into a discussion of what was going on.
“No dreams. That’s always good.” She pushed herself up and shoved her hair back from her face. “What time is it?”
“Almost six. Think you could eat some supper? Mary made her famous enchiladas.”
Lindsey forced a smile. “I’m always hungry for those.”
He made no mention of the explosive sex they’d had. Instead, he studied her face, as if searching for answers there.
“How about if I bring a tray up here for both of us?” he asked at last.
“Absolutely not.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m not an invalid. I had a little fainting spell is all, and I’m fine. Let me wash my face and throw on some clothes.”
She was surprised to discover she was ravenous. The aftermath of shock, Nick pointed out.
“No more photos tonight,” he decreed. “Tomorrow is plenty of time to get back to them, and you need a clear head to do it.”
“The message on my cell,” she began.
“I’ve got the guys working on it,” he told her. “I’ve got the phone so you won’t have to even look at it until tomorrow. Then we’ll get you a new one.”
“A new phone? But how will I get my messages?”
“You can always call the office or use a code to tap into the answering machine. So let’s call it a day.”
After dinner, Nick made sure she got into bed again, then left her long enough to take a last turn around the outside with Ruben, checking to make sure all the alarm panels were set. Lindsey left the bedside lamp on and was staring at the ceiling, trying to sort out the jumbled thoughts in her mind, when he came back into the room.
“Give me a minute to shower, okay?”
“Yes. Of course.”
He frowned at her, then shrugged and headed for the bathroom.
She would have had his things moved to another room, but that would bring too many questions from too many people that she didn’t want to answer right now. When he slid into bed next to her, he smelled of soap and toothpaste and his own musky scent.
For a moment, she was tempted to nestle against him, but the memory of that phone call was still too fresh. The sex earlier she could chalk up to therapeutic, a cure for the nightmares. She just couldn’t do it again, not with this between them.
He started to say something but shook his head and picked up the television remote.
They spent the evening watching an old movie on television. Finally, Nick turned off the television and reached for her.
“I’m very tired tonight, Nick. Today exhausted me.”
He spooned against her, one arm circling her, and brushed a kiss against her cheek.
“Lindsey, whatever’s bothering you will have to come out. If tonight’s not the right time, okay. For now, let’s just get a good night’s sleep.”
She tried to relax, but long after Nick fell asleep, she lay in the dark, the moonlight shining through the window illuminating the two photos of her parents, the old and the new. A terrible dread settled over her as she thought about the Pandora’s Box they were about to open…and what could fly out.