Virgin in Disguise Page 8

  He pointed at the door. The screen door stood halfway open. About an inch of space showed between the heavy glass slider and the doorjamb.

  A noise came from the corner of the patio. She had her gun out and ready in a heartbeat.

  Pushing the slider open a little farther, she slipped outside. The noise continued, and she crept to the edge of the wood deck.

  The last step down to the lake path squeaked beneath her foot. A metallic crash rang out in answer.

  She raised her gun into position as she swung around the corner of the cabin. Sunlight broke through the last clouds and bounced off the dull metal of the garbage can laying tipped on its side. Two raccoons scurried back into the woods.

  She sagged against the side of the house as she lowered her revolver.

  Cabrini sidled up beside her. “Local wildlife?”

  She nodded. “Looks like it. It seems early for them to be out. I’m going to check around the perimeter, just to be sure.” She pushed away from the wall. “Could you—”

  “Take care of trash duty?” Cabrini heaved a deep sigh. “That seems to be my main use these days.”

  “Buck up, Cabrini. You could turn into what most women dream of.”

  “What?”

  “A man who cleans up after himself.”

  He crossed his arms and looked her over. “Is that what you want, Elf?”

  “Do I strike you as being like most women?” She set off down the path. His chuckle followed her on the breeze, sending desire rippling across her stomach.

  Most women probably wouldn’t look twice at someone with Cabrini’s rough appearance. Sometimes she wished she was more like most women. The more she got to know about him, the more she grew to like him.

  Ten minutes later, she returned to the cabin. Everything had been cleaned up and the trashcan was secured in place. Cabrini stood on the porch, waiting for her.

  “Thanks for picking up.” She sank onto a patio chair.

  “Did you find anything?”

  “There were a few ATV tracks, but that’s all. Am I going paranoid?”

  “If you are, I’m keeping you company.”

  She rested her head in her hands and gave her scalp a good scratching. “This is nuts. No one knows we’re here, and if they did, why would they come after us, anyway?”

  “Your mystery client sent you after me.”

  “I told you, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

  He sat in the chair next to hers. “So, what do you want to do?”

  “Eat.” She relaxed against the cushions and closed her eyes against the lowering sun. “Eating would be good.”

  “Are you cooking?”

  “No. I wouldn’t think of subjecting you to that sort of torture again.” She frowned at him. “Do you promise to behave?”

  “I always behave. Just not always very well.”

  “Got it. Okay, if we go into town, do you promise to be on your best behavior and not make any attempt to escape?”

  “What do I get if I do?”

  “The pleasure of dining at a surprisingly nice steak house not too far from here. If you’re really good, I might even let you have some wine or other alcoholic beverage of your choice.”

  “Are there vegetables?”

  “I imagine there might be a head of iceberg lettuce floating around the kitchen. They could probably come up with a decent salad. If you don’t expect much.”

  “Sounds great.” He crossed his heart and held up his hand. “I solemnly swear that I will be charming, congenial and cordial. I will stick beside you, no matter what.”

  Stick beside her. The concept held a certain attraction. And nothing would come of it. She smiled and shook her head. “Don’t push it, Cabrini, or I’ll suspect you of trying to distract me. Let’s get changed and head into town.”

  Frank, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt, watched in awe as Elf came down the stairs.

  She had completely transformed her appearance once again. Long, curly black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Brown contacts hid the blue eyes he’d admired all day. And her clothes… His mouth went dry.

  Holy hot pants.

  An oversized, white shirt, left unbuttoned enough to reveal teasing glimpses of the curves underneath, had him torn between buttoning her up to the neck or undoing the shirt completely. The stiletto heels of her red shoes and her short jean skirt left an impression that her legs ended somewhere around next Wednesday.

  He let loose with a wolf whistle.

  “Get over it, Cabrini.”

  “It is you. I wondered for a second.” He shook his head. “When you say you’re going to change, you don’t fool around.”

  She couldn’t possibly have any idea of the effect she would have on men seeing her for the first time. They’d be hitting on her all night long and he’d probably end up hitting one of them, just for the principle.

  He was about to say so when he caught the knowing look in her disguised eyes and the quirk of her eyebrow. “You want to cause problems, don’t you?”

  “Why, Mistah Cabrini, I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  “Like hell you can’t. Why a disguise?”

  “Because I never leave home without it. Just like I don’t leave home without this.” She held up a credit card and some folded cash before slipping them into her front pocket. “Or this.” She slid her driver’s license and a lipstick tube into the other pocket. “Or this.” She lifted her skirt just enough to reveal the edge of a garter holding her cell phone in place high on her thigh.

  He had to swallow a couple times before he could get his voice working again. “Ever try carrying a purse?”

  “Too much bother. I always forgot it someplace. Besides, the only thing I carry that’s too big for a pocket is my handy Smith & Wesson Bodyguard Airweight.”

  “And where do you plan to tuck that?”

  “Rusty’s trunk. I like to keep it handy, but most businesses don’t allow guns on the premises.”

  Of course. He’d been foolish to think the afternoon’s exchanges had made a difference in their situation. She was still on the job. So was he. “Why the disguise, Elf?”

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have my reasons.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Maybe later.”

  “Maybe now.”

  She pouted. “You’re just being a big ol’ spoilsport.”

  “Give it up, Elf. You’re forgetting we’ve played cards all afternoon. I know you too well for the southern-belle bit to be effective.”

  “Fuhgeddaboudit.” She switched to a Jersey accent. “I suppose you think this is better?”

  He shook his head.

  “No?” She shifted accents again, and sounded straight out of the movie Fargo. “Oh, yah, sure. Well, you know, I suppose since we’re up nort’ I should sound like them folks, then, huh?”

  “Why the costume?”

  “Distraction.” She brushed past him with a chicka-boom swing of her hips that had his libido, and other parts, standing at attention. “Is it working?”

  “You’re killing me, Elf.”

  Her throaty laugh scrambled his thoughts. “Care to take a ride, big guy?”

  Oh, yeah, it was working, all right. Too well.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner, as it turned out, was quite pleasant. Nobody hit on Elf, and Frank occupied himself trying to decipher the puzzle she presented. Angel Donovan fascinated him and frustrated him and he wanted to get to know more about her. He wanted to know everything about her.

  They ate and laughed and he coaxed her out onto the miniscule dance floor once. Once was enough.

  She fit in his arms like she’d been custom-tailored for him.

  He was heading for dangerous ground and he didn’t care.

  They returned to the cabin well after midnight. The moonless night wrapped around them, serenading them with the frog-and-cricket chorus of the woods.

  He followed
her up the porch steps, took the keys from her hand and unlocked the door. “You know, Elf, this is the closest I’ve come to a date in a long time.”

  “Really?”

  “Um-hmm.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder and cupped her cheek. “I’m out of practice. What comes next?”

  He felt more than saw the tiny shake of her head. “I’m probably more out of practice than you are.”

  “Interesting.” The fact that she didn’t date much pleased him in a strange way.

  He enjoyed being with her, regardless of how it had all begun. He didn’t know where it would lead, but was willing to go along for the ride for a little longer. “Well, I’m pretty sure—” he stepped closer “—a good-night kiss is still customary.”

  With her high heels, she stood nearly as tall as him and he didn’t have to bend very far.

  He paused, waited to see if she would pull away. Her soft breath teased his lips, lured him closer.

  The first brush of his lips on hers set his blood humming through his veins. He played with the sensations, experimenting with the pressure and placement of his mouth on hers, letting the hunger build in a sweet torture before advancing to the next step.

  He teased her lips, tracing their outline with the tip of his tongue, tasting the lingering flavor of her chocolate dessert. When he reached the limits of his patience for that, he deepened the kiss.

  Her arms wound around his shoulders and he pulled her closer, matching her length to his as he leaned against the door. The heat built.

  Each time he’d kissed her, it had been different. The desire to know her better, to get closer, to taste more of her, grew with each experience.

  A film of perspiration spread across his back and, with it, reality intruded. Hot as his desire might be, there was something else going on.

  He loosened his hold on her enough to reach behind him and touch the door. It was unnaturally hot. The doorknob was even hotter.

  A branch cracked somewhere nearby. Splinters of wood bit into his cheek.

  Not a branch, realization hit. Gunshot. The bullet had come damn close.

  He tightened his arm around Elf’s waist and dragged her off the porch, racing to get to the shelter of the car.

  Another crack of gunfire. Glass shattered and the world exploded.

  The blast knocked them to the ground. He twisted to cover her body with his, protecting her from falling debris. Something hit him in the back with the force of a fist.

  It was over in a matter of seconds.

  Flames engulfed the cabin.

  In the distance, an angry mechanical buzz disappeared in the roar of the growing fire.

  “Holy mother of—” He stood and helped Elf to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, speechless, as she took in the devastation.

  He pulled the car door open and shoved her behind the steering wheel. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  She nodded again, fumbled the key into the ignition. He slid into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life. As he pulled the door shut, she shoved the car into gear and peeled away, spraying gravel in their wake.

  At the end of the long driveway, she slammed on the brakes. “We can’t just leave. We have to do something, call the fire department, get them out here. The whole woods could catch on fire.”

  “Which would suit whoever set that fire, I’m sure.”

  She looked at him, anger and fear growing in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Get on that cell phone of yours and call nine-one-one, Elf. You’re right—we need the fire department ASAP. The local law enforcement would be good, too. Once they’re done, I’ll be real interested in what the fire investigator has to say.”

  “You think it was deliberate?”

  He nodded. “Make the call, then we’ll talk.”

  She called in the fire, then pulled her car onto the far shoulder of the road, got out and walked around to the passenger side. The car door creaked as she pulled it open. “Okay, now explain why you think this is arson.”

  Muscle twinges and shoulder pain accompanied his movements as he stood next to the car. “Do you know what a backdraft is?”

  “I’ve read about it, but can’t seem to keep the term straight.”

  “A fire smolders in an enclosed area, just waiting for a fresh air supply. When it gets that air, it explodes, literally.”

  “Like the cabin just did.”

  “Right. Our fire had a little help in renewing its oxygen. Whoever it was missed on the first shot.”

  “First…” She slumped against Rusty’s back fender, arms crossed. “I heard it. But out here…it didn’t register.”

  “Took me a second, too. The bullet hitting the door next to my head helped. The second shot opened a window and—” he clapped his hands together “—bang.”

  “Backdraft.”

  Lights strobed in the distance and the sound of sirens began to fill the air. “That was fast.”

  “Dispatch said we were the second call.”

  “Neighbors?”

  “They didn’t say. I thought I heard an ATV—it could have been the rider.” She glanced at him. “This stinks like last week’s sauerkraut.”

  “No argument there.”

  The fire engine skidded around the sharp turn into the driveway. The fire chief’s SUV followed hard behind.

  The county sheriff’s patrol car skidded to a stop, blocking the drive.

  “Methuselah,” Elf muttered.

  “What?”

  “This guy. He’s been sheriff since the first Ice Age.”

  “He knows you?”

  “Not this version. It’s been years.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.” Frank spoke in a low tone. “I don’t think hanging around here is good for our health so let’s not give him any reasons to keep us.”

  The sheriff stood next to his car, one hand resting on the butt of his gun, the other aiming his spotlight at them. The bright beam trailed over the Mustang, then settled on Elf. “You the folks that called it in?”

  Frank draped an arm around Elf’s shoulders as they faced the peace officer.

  “Nooo. I pulled over for just a second?” Elf waved her arms vaguely and slipped a question mark into every sentence. “All of a sudden? We heard this big, ya know, noise?”

  “What were you doing stopping here? You know the owner of this place?”

  Elf tried to pull away. Frank squeezed her shoulder, pulling her in front of him and wrapping his arms around her. “Was that some kind of party house?” he asked.

  “You from around here?” The sheriff shifted the light to Frank’s face.

  “Nah. I’m not. But Chris, here,” he smoothed her hair away from her neck. “She tells me she comes through here all the time. I just wanted to see some of the countryside.”

  The sheriff’s spotlight moved back to Elf. “Did you see anybody?”

  “Nooo?”

  Frank tickled her neck with his beard. She giggled right on cue, adding a little more ditz to her performance.

  The sheriff studied them for a moment. “Well, keep driving. The fire crew’s got their hands full. We don’t need spectators getting in the way.”

  “Okie, then.” Elf gave a little wave of her hand.

  They wasted no time getting back in the car. Under the guise of giving her a kiss, Frank leaned close and said, “Step on it, Chris.”

  She complied, making a big show of checking for nonexistent traffic and waving to the sheriff as she pulled onto the road.

  Through the rear window, Frank watched the sheriff pull out a cell phone. His spotlight bobbed for a moment, then trained on them and held steady as they drove away.

  Ten miles down the road, Angel’s cell phone vibrated, jerking her attention away from their dark surroundings. She pulled to the side of the road.

  “As much as I’d love a quick make-out session, I’d really prefer that we keep going.”

  “Zip it, Ca
brini.” She hiked her skirt up a little to pull the phone from its garter holster.

  Cabrini’s soft whistle would have earned him a backhanded swat but she was too busy tugging her skirt back into place and sliding out of the car.

  A chill slithered down her spine when she saw her mother’s phone number on the screen. “Corie? Is something wrong? Has something happened?”

  “Angela?” Her mother’s voice came through the receiver.

  “Mom?”

  “Oh, sweetie, is it really you?”

  “Of course it is. Who else would it be?” She began pacing alongside the car.

  “Thank heaven it’s not too late,” Maryam whispered.

  “Mom, it’s nearly two in the morning. Why are you calling?”

  “You’re all right.” Her mother’s voice broke on a soft sob. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

  “No, Mom, I’m fine. What’s going on?”

  “He said there’d been an explosion…. It didn’t make sense—it’s all confused…. It sounded like when your father… I can’t live through that again.”

  Her own memories of that time clamped an iron fist around her heart. Neither of them could survive that sort of devastation a second time.

  “Mom? Mom, it’s okay. I’m okay. Nothing has happened.” She stopped pacing. Covering her ear, focusing all her attention on the distraught woman on the other end, she ignored her own remembered loss and worked to calm her mother.

  After numerous reassurances, her mother calmed down enough to hand the phone to Corie.

  “What the Frankfurt is that all about? Who told her I was dead?”

  “He didn’t say that, exactly. He said there was a fire and you were missing. She jumped from there to…”

  “The only logical conclusion in her mind.” Angel sank against Rusty’s rear fender.

  “You’re really okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She rubbed the back of her neck, pushing at the edge of her wig. “Corie, who called with that information?”

  “Mr. Dexter.”

  Chilling anger threaded through her veins. “Why would he do that to her? How could he call in the middle of the night and say something like that?”

  “He didn’t call—he came here.”

  She pushed away from the car. “Put him on the phone.” Her voice shook with the effort it took not to shout.