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Murder in the Clear Zone Page 14


  Paula climbed into bed and pulled the sheet up to her chin. She breathed deeply to relax. She’d been droopy-eyed while reading the last pages of the journal. Her body was rigid and her mind alert. Her heartbeat quickened. In a few minutes, Bard would come into the room and climb into that other bed.

  At the previous hotel, she could close the door to the adjoining room and lock him out; he would be only a couple of feet away.

  Not to worry, he wasn’t the kind of guy to force himself on a woman. Or was he? She’d been wrong about men before. Very wrong.

  She caught herself fingering that old scar as the image flashed in her mind: her foster father, Frank, lumbering closer, her backing away and screaming no, please don’t. Paula trembled. She glanced at Bard’s briefcase sitting on top of the dresser. Unable to deny the street-smart part of herself, she swung out of bed, got his gun, and shoved it under her pillow.

  Her stomach knotted. She desperately wanted to trust Bard. Why was trusting him so important? But could she ever completely trust anyone? And with the stories going around about her killing people, would anyone totally trust her? What if Bard believed those stories? Paula closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It didn’t help. Her mind stayed on Bard.

  The power he had to draw her out of her hard shell worked against her. It was scary the way he could stir her emotions. If she were to survive, she’d have to fight her feelings for him, feelings she hadn’t completely clarified. It would be far too easy to let him watch over her the way Charlie had done when she was a child. But he wasn’t Charlie, and she was no longer a child.

  Still, until she uncovered Charlie’s murderer she needed Bard. He had connections.

  Paula tossed and turned, fighting the past, uncertain about the future. Her bed covers tangled like snarled ropes and at about 1:00 A.M. she got up and straightened them.

  Seconds later, when Bard tiptoed into the room, she pretended to be asleep. She peered at him between semi-closed eyelids and slightly fluttering lashes.

  Instantly her heart quickened at the sight of him, at the way he moved. The dim lighting didn’t hide how his jeans and T-shirt clung to his powerful body. His hair was wet, and he had a towel around his neck. He smelled of chlorine. It was obvious that he’d done more than check the oil and use the phone.

  Blast him. While she was here with her nerves tied in knots worrying about him, he was off swimming, enjoying himself.

  Fifteen minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, smelling of soap and shampoo. He wore only navy blue bikini briefs. Her gaze traveled over his body, taking in the wide shoulders, flat stomach, lean hips. Damn him, his body was better than Michelangelo’s David.

  Bard laid his clothes in a nearby chair and started to climb into bed. He paused and wrinkled his brow. He went to the briefcase. Oh no, he was searching for the gun.

  He closed the case softly. He crossed the room and stood close enough for Paula to sense his tension. He looked down at her, his breathing even.

  She didn’t move a muscle, but her cheeks burned. Bard knew she had the gun. Did he think she was wary of spending the night in the same room with him? Or was he concerned about spending the night with her, a suspected murderess armed with his gun? She hoped instead he’d assumed she was frightened that the intruders would find them.

  After an eternity, he turned to his own bed. He glanced in her direction as the bed dipped slightly under his weight. She imagined that weight on her, her shifting to accommodate him. Her heart pounded. Good grief, she was alone in this room with a very attractive, barely clothed man and her own far too vivid imagination.

  The full moon conspired with her heart against her, bathing his bare shoulders in silvery light. It took all of her willpower to stop herself from sliding into his bed and smoothing her fingers over the shimmering path of muscles. A quiver slid down her spine. Spending another night this close to him would be impossible.

  Abruptly, she turned over and covered her head with the sheet. If she lay very still, surely sleep would come. When Bard moaned softly, she turned over and peeked at him. His sheet had tangled below his belly button and one muscular leg was uncovered. He looked magnificent. She wrenched her attention away. The large red numerals on the clock displayed 2:00 A.M. Her mind wouldn’t shut down. Men had broken into the other hotel room. Could those guys find them here? What was Charlie’s involvement with the attorney, Lomas? She shifted, missing the firmness and privacy of her own bed. Admit it, the main reason you can’t sleep is because of your attraction to that guy in the other bed only a couple of feet away.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sunlight streamed through the open drapes framing the sliding glass doors. The smell of sea air drifted into the room. Bard heard Paula moving around in the bathroom. Amazing, he thought, as he rubbed his eyes. He’d actually fallen asleep with that spirited bundle of femininity only two feet away.

  He propped himself on his elbow. Noticing the butt of his gun sticking out from under Paula’s pillow, he rolled out of bed grabbed it, and shoved it back into his briefcase.

  Last night, when he’d first realized she had the gun, Cory’s warnings resurfaced and provoked new doubts. Fortunately, intuitiveness helped him squelch them. He knew Paula trusted no one. And why should she? Her first twenty-three years of life had been about betrayal and losing the people she loved. Bard paced. Damn. He was about to join the string of dishonest men who’d betrayed her. Could he really keep her in the dark? She deserved at least one honest relationship. If he hadn’t left the room last night he might’ve spilled his guts. And if she knew he planned to go undercover it would put her in more danger, and he couldn’t risk jeopardizing her further.

  When they were alone, all he could think about was taking her into his arms and never letting go. His feelings had grown more and more intense. It wasn’t merely his protective instinct. He doubted it ever was just that. He wanted to be with her, watch sunrises, take walks, share souls. But he couldn’t do that until this job was over. And when she found out he’d kept things from her, she’d figure he was like all the rest and hate him and then any chance for more would be down the tubes.

  Fragrances of shampoo and soap escaped around the edges of the closed door, stirring a fantasy of what stood on the other side. Paula nude, glistening with moisture. Perky breasts, lovely mounds of ivory flesh, made more pronounced by her tiny waist and slight curve of hip.

  Fighting his throbbing arousal, Bard threw things into his suitcase. He shrugged into his shirt then called through the bathroom door, “Paula, I’ll meet you downstairs in the coffee shop.”

  “What?” she asked.

  He didn’t dare answer, except with a slam of the door.

  ****

  The message light blinked crazily. Paula checked. It was a message from Bard asking her to meet him in the coffee shop. So that’s what he’d said. But why didn’t he wait for her?

  Minutes later, Paula shoved open the restaurant door with so much force it shook the glass. Bard sat in the booth at the back of the room. The first two buttons of his white dress shirt were open, revealing tanned skin and a trace of black hair. The fabric molded perfectly across his chest. Something inside her softened a fraction.

  When she slid into the booth across from him, she caught a whiff of his spicy aftershave and noticed he’d shaved. Her fingers tingled with an urge to confirm whether his square, firm jaw was as smooth as it looked. “Where’d you shave? I’m afraid I hogged the bathroom.”

  “No problem,” was all he said.

  His green eyes were clear and twinkling, which amazed her considering how restless he’d been all night. The only evidence that he hadn’t slept much was the slight shadows under his eyes. “You were gone a long time last night.” She arched a teasing eyebrow. “Have to check the oil for every guest in the hotel?”

  A smile played at his lips then he looked down at his coffee. “Decided to make some phone calls.”

  “You couldn’t make them from our room?”
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br />   He smiled widely this time, peering up from under his brows. “Did you miss me?”

  She wasn’t about to answer that. “After what happened at the other hotel, I imagined all sorts of—” She silently cursed herself when her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “I was worried.”

  Regret flickered in his eyes. “I knew you were safe. Never dreamed you’d worry about me.”

  She was worried all right, about him, about his actions. “Why the disappearing act this morning?”

  “To speed things up. Since I couldn’t join you in the bathroom, I showered and shaved in the men’s room by the pool.”

  Join you in the bathroom brought an image of them showering together. Stay focused. His explanation sounded logical. Still, she sensed there was more to his quick departure. Before she could press him, he said in a husky voice, “I called Attorney Lomas. The answering machine said he would return to the office at nine.”

  Paula had called, too, with the same results. “I want to be there when he arrives and get this over with today.”

  Bard studied her face. “We can get the information over the phone and save time.”

  His steady scrutiny got to her and her cheeks burned. “No. I want to see Lomas’s eyes when I tell him Charlie’s been murdered.”

  “What if Lomas can’t meet with us today?”

  She lifted her chin. “I won’t accept that.”

  “I hate to throw dirt on your fire, but—”

  “Don’t.” Why was he giving her a hard time on this? She folded her arms across her chest. “Because, with or without you, I’m going.”

  Bard slowly and deliberately unwrapped his silverware from the burgundy cloth napkin. After a long moment, he shook his head and grinned. “Okay. We’ll try it your way.”

  She grinned, too, feeling she’d just won an important battle. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

  He glanced at his watch. “We still have time to eat. I already ordered a couple of the breakfast specials. Hope that’s all right.”

  “Perfect.” For no reason that she could fathom, an image of Bard in his navy blue bikini underwear popped into her mind. Her cheeks flamed. She closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath. She couldn’t let herself be blinded by the sexy way he’d looked last night. She nailed him with her gaze. “Back to the phone calls.”

  “Nothing mysterious,” Bard said. “I called Gary’s house. He’s home from the hospital and doing fine.”

  Relief washed over Paula. A compelling tenderness made her reach out to touch Bard’s hand. “So that’s who….” Paula stopped mid-sentence and retracted her hand just before contact. She clasped the glass of ice water instead, and stroked its dewy coolness. She couldn’t touch Bard the way she wanted to. Showing affection would only get in their way.

  Again, he searched her face in that intense way of his. “If you want to know who else I called just ask.”

  “I’m asking.”

  The waitress brought their coffee and two plates of sausages and scrambled eggs rolled in thick, fluffy pancakes. Bard pointed at her plate with his fork. “Better dig in. We need to be the first clients in Lomas’s office.”

  Paula took a sip of coffee then glared at him. “Well, are you going to tell me or not?”

  “Tell you what?” He shoveled a big bite of pancake into his mouth.

  His mock innocence burned her to the core. She raised her voice a level. “Who else did you call?”

  “Oh, yes.” He finished chewing, taking longer than Paula felt was necessary. “I was just getting to that,” he said. “I called the security guard at your house to make sure everything was A-okay on the home front. It was.”

  Her anger melted, and she stared at him in amazement. He’d thought of everything. “Thanks for checking. After that attack at the hotel, I prayed that those guys didn’t take out their frustrations on my birds.”

  “They may not be safe for long, so I’ve made arrangements for you to move into your new place before the escrow closes. A carpenter is building the new aviaries now as we speak. I know a guy who will guarantee the safe transport of your birds on his flatbed eighteen-wheeler. You can be out of the clear zone by the end of the week.”

  “Wait just a minute, Mr. Relocation Man. Your concern is touching, but I make my own decisions. And I’m definitely not moving now. Not until Charlie’s killer is caught.”

  Bard’s eyes darkened. “Better rethink that. Gordon said there’s been another murder. And based on the attack at the hotel you could be next.”

  Paula gripped the edge of the table. “Who was killed?”

  “Deeter. Apparently, he never made it out of town. At first, the police thought he’d missed the curve on Keppers Hill. But the bullet hole in his head and minimal blood suggested he was killed at another location then placed in his wrecked truck.”

  Paula clutched her napkin. “One of the last entries in the journal said Deeter was taking Charlie to see the gang’s number one.”

  “Then I was right. Deeter was in on the looting.”

  “But if he was part of the gang, why kill him?”

  Bard’s jaw tightened. “Maybe he became expendable.”

  Paula trembled. Like her and Bard?

  Something else Bard had said gnawed at the back of her mind. “You said you called your boss. Was he upset that you didn’t make it to work this morning?”

  “No. He didn’t even seem surprised.” Bard finished eating and pushed his plate aside, then his brow furrowed as though something disturbing occurred to him.

  Paula felt a tightening in her stomach. Bard had made a lot of phone calls. “What about Cory?”

  “What about him?”

  “Did you call him, too?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. Told him I was spending the night out of town.”

  “Did you tell him you were with me?”

  Bard wrinkled his brow. “Roommates don’t share everything.”

  Paula felt a sinking sensation. There was no way to know what information had passed between the two men. She suspected the real reason Bard had left the room last night was so she wouldn’t hear their conversation.

  She crossed her arms over her belly as her stomach seemed to close in on itself. Cory had a direct pipeline to her through Bard. However, as much as their unlikely triangle troubled her, she didn’t have time to worry about it now. She had a more immediate concern; to find out what attorney Lomas knew that might help her identify Charlie’s killer.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lomas’ law office screamed wealth, success. How could Charlie afford this high-priced attorney? Paula’s gaze fixed on the design over the doorway. It was a leaded glass half-circle composed of pie-shaped pieces floating over a small gilded orb. Probably real gold.

  With Bard at her side, Paula explained the purpose of the visit to the secretary, and after a few moments, the stately woman led them across a luxurious carpet into a windowless conference room where twelve chairs circled a highly polished oval table.

  “Help yourself to the coffee,” the secretary said in a refined English accent. Then she disappeared, silent as an apparition.

  Bard pulled out one of the chairs for Paula and sat down next to her. Cool air blasted from the wall vents. Paula rubbed her arms. Bard took her pastel blue suit jacket from her and held it up so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. “Attentive devil, aren’t you?” she said, forcing humor she didn’t feel.

  “It’s a male thing,” he said, grinning.

  A wisecrack to that would only get her into trouble. She glanced around the plush oak paneled room and tapped a rapid tattoo on the table with her fingernails. Bard offered her a mint from the candy dish on the table, perhaps to give her fingers something less disturbing to do. When she shook her head, he unwrapped the clear cellophane and popped the mint in his mouth.

  She knew his Johnny-on-the-spot attentiveness, seating her, helping her with her jacket, offering her candy was meant only to put her at ease.
She would’ve loved him for it, but in the back of her mind she suspected that everything he did was to woe her into leaving the clear zone. She glanced at her watch then stood and paced. The attorney had cleared a half hour slot to see them, but they had to wait.

  Yesterday, Corps Chief Reed had shaken her world with his news. Would Lomas drop a bombshell of his own? Paula’s knees trembled beneath her. She sank again to the chair.

  Bard gestured toward the journal. “May I?”

  She had an urge to say no, but every time he looked at her with such scrutiny and soul-searching depth the invisible wall between them crumbled another stone. But how could she let him see the journal? Charlie had laid his thoughts bare. The notion of someone else, especially Bard, reading those passages, perhaps misinterpreting them, knotted her insides into triple knots.

  An excerpt darted into her mind: The nights Paula and I snuck out and swam in the pond at Meade Park made those hellish years in the homes bearable. Our daredevil spirits bonded us.

  Paula sighed. Bittersweet memories was all she had of Charlie. They’d slipped out their bedroom windows and ran laughing to the park two blocks away. There they pretended the murky, mosquito infested pond was a clear lake at the edge of a magical forest, and that they were the rulers of the land, able at last to have some control over their world.

  “Come on, Paula,” Bard said, yanking her back to the moment. He held out his hand for the journal. “I might catch something you missed. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

  He was right. She hadn’t recognized any of the names except Deeter’s, and maybe Bard would. Hesitantly, she handed him the journal. She clasped her hands tightly in the center of her lap to keep from snatching it back. This was her chance to show him, and herself, that she could be open with him, trusting. Or, at least pretend to be.

  He rewarded her by reaching over and patting her clutched hands. His large hand covered hers so completely that his fingertips rested on the flimsy fabric of her skirt. The feathery touch set off a tingling sensation between her thighs that rocked her senses.