Blackbird Lake (30 page)

All night long, Jake’s advice had drummed in Brady’s head.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

As he parked his Harley on Spring Street just before nine o’clock the next morning, and headed to A Bun in the Oven for a muffin, fried eggs, and coffee, he knew he should have been there a lot more for Madison. He never should have stayed away from her these past weeks, watching out for her from a distance. He should have had her back all the time.

He’d thought it wasn’t his job, or his place. That all he’d do was make more trouble for her. That her grandparents would give her grief about him, and she’d had enough strife in her family already.

He hadn’t wanted to be the cause of more.

But ever since the gig at the Spotted Pony, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her. Worrying about her. He’d even hung out across from her apartment building a few times late at night when he knew she had gigs. Just to make sure that after parking her car, or getting dropped off by one of the members of the band, she got in the door and upstairs safely.

Not once had she even known he was there.

So now I’m following her, too,
he thought. And wondered about the other guy.

Who was he? Brady hadn’t seen anyone else hanging around her building late at night. Not once.

Hell, just call her,
he told himself.
You owe her a date. It’s a matter of honor.

Torn between eagerness to see her and the conviction that he wouldn’t be doing her any favors, he finished his breakfast and paid his tab. Shoulders straightening with resolution, he left the bakery and strode the few blocks to Madison’s apartment.

He took the stairs two at a time and knocked on her door more than once, but there was no answer.

Maybe she was at work already, taking care of little Emma McKinnon.

Or rehearsing somewhere with the Wild Critters for her next gig. He’d seen a poster at the Lucky Punch, advertising the band’s next performance in Big Timber.

Brady cursed himself for never having asked Madison for her cell number. So he dug a scrap of paper from his jeans pocket, found a stub of a pencil, and scratched out a note.

How about our date? Ice cream. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven. If you can’t make it, call me.
He hesitated before writing the next line.
But I hope you can.

Then he scribbled down his cell number and shoved the scrap of paper under her door.

He’d been intending to go back home and sit with his feet up on the porch railing for a half hour before he had to be at work, but he suddenly was hit by another thought and changed his mind.

Leaving Madison’s apartment building, Brady turned left on Hickock Street and walked toward the sheriff’s office.

“All I know,” Carly told Martha on the phone as sunshine poured through the kitchen windows, “is that it definitely wasn’t my cousin breaking in, looking for money. It seems he’s been located—in New Jersey. I can’t believe it. I was so sure it was him.”

She paced across the kitchen, then back toward the table. “According to Sheriff Hodge, Phil’s turned his life around. He works at a manufacturing plant now. He’s been gainfully employed for just over a year. His foreman says he clocked in for the late shift yesterday and was at work during the time of the break-in, so now I don’t know what to think.”

Jake filled two bright blue mugs with coffee and noticed how tightly her fingers were clenched around her phone. She looked rested at least, and beautiful in sleek jeans and a soft plum sweater, but her tension was palpable—and had been ever since the call from Teddy Hodge minutes before.

He couldn’t say he blamed her. If her asshole bully of a cousin wasn’t behind the break-in, they were back at square one. Jake would be spending a whole lot more time making certain she and Emma not only were safe but that they
felt
safe.

“There’s going to be a lot going on here today while Travis installs the security system,” Carly continued, “and Madison has a three-hour online exam this afternoon, so if you’re
sure
you don’t mind keeping Emma at your place, I can pick her up sometime later when I head to the shop—”

Carly listened a moment. “Of course I know you
like
to take her shopping, Martha, but you weren’t planning on being tied up today. Are you sure? You don’t have appointments at the Cuttin’ Loose? Okay, thank you, but don’t spend too much money. Emma has all the clothes she needs. I’ll pick her up at your apartment no later than four.”

Disconnecting the call, she set her phone on the burnished wood countertop and met Jake’s gaze as the smell of fresh coffee wafted through the kitchen.

“She and Dorothy are taking Emma clothes shopping in Livingston today. Martha insists on buying her a new dress to wear for Thanksgiving dinner. I think because it will be her first Thanksgiving at Sage Ranch with your family.”

“My family?
Her
family,” Jake corrected her. “And yours. They all love you—you know that, don’t you?”

She nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. But her eyes still looked troubled. He knew she was still focusing on the break-in.

Her next words confirmed it.

“I can’t believe we need a security system,” she muttered for the fourth time that morning as she carried a platter of bagels to the table and set it alongside the cream cheese, raspberry jam, and apple cinnamon muffins already arrayed in the center.

Jake was opening the sliding door to let Bronco back in from the yard. “Think of it this way. You don’t actually
need
Travis’s system. It’s only a backup.”

“A backup to what?” She’d been about to slip into her chair but she paused and stared at him in confusion.

“A backup to me. I told you, until Hodge gets this guy, and all this is resolved, I’m your full-time, round-the-clock, living and breathing security system.” He lifted a brow. “Unless, after last night, you have any objections.”

“Hardly.” She grinned up at him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind.”

He moved toward her, cupped her face, and brushed his lips against hers. At her instant response, a fierce fire seemed to shoot through his blood. He kissed her again, wanting to do so much more.

But now wasn’t the time. Reluctantly he forced himself to let her go, and as she slipped into her seat, he took the chair beside her.

“How do you know Hodge will get him?” she asked as she spread cream cheese on a bagel.

Jake sipped his coffee. “Because Hodge is good at what he does. And so is Travis. I can guarantee you, after today, no one’s breaking in here again.”

She lifted her cup, then set it down again without drinking. “I really thought it was Phil. It’s been a long time since he called me demanding money, but I can’t think of anyone else who would break in here. It’s unnerving not knowing who was in my house. You heard Sheriff Hodge say there haven’t been any other reports of home invasions in town. And nothing was even stolen. So…”

“Someone was searching for something.”

She nodded, stared bleakly into his eyes. “The question is what.”

He’d been wondering the same thing, turning possibilities over and over in his mind. But so far, he didn’t have a single theory. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, Carly. Give it some time. But right now, I have a plan for the day.”

She swallowed another bite of bagel and studied him. How did he always manage to appear so calm? Somehow, his easygoing confidence steadied her and she found herself smiling almost lightheartedly.

“Does this plan include something besides me going to work and you helping Travis install the system?”

“So happens it does. Since Laureen is opening the shop, I thought we’d wait and let Travis in, then take off while he
does his thing. He can put in your system blindfolded—he doesn’t need my help.”

“Take off for where?” she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“That I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

Her spirits lifted inexplicably as she saw the anticipatory glint in his eyes. “I have to warn you, I’ve never been fond of surprises. I had a nasty one yesterday when I found someone broke into my house and I’m—”

He leaned forward, cupped her chin, and gave her mouth a gentle little kiss to quiet her. “I promise you this is a good surprise. There’s something I want to show you. It won’t take long. Then I’ll get you to work and after you close for the day, we’ll take Emma to the Lucky Punch for an early supper. If she’s not too tired, I thought we might stop for ice cream at Lickety Split. Something tells me today might be one of the last days we want ice cream for quite a while. We’ll be freezing our butts off before we know it.”

She momentarily forgot about the break-in and the security system and someone searching her home. All she saw, all she knew, was Jake, tall and hunkily handsome in a black shirt tucked into faded jeans, his longish jet hair still damp from the shower, his elbows on her kitchen table as he kneaded her hands gently within his. He was talking about “we” and “us” as if he was going to be around all winter. But he was leaving soon for Salt Lake City. Did he mean that he’d be back fairly often?

Whoa. Don’t count on it,
a wiser voice inside her head counseled.

She leaned back and nodded.

“I’d love to see what you have to show me. Something at your cabin? The one you’re turning into a lodge?”

“Not far from my cabin, but we’re actually going past it—somewhere else.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapped an arm around her waist. “Let’s pack a lunch and head out soon after Travis gets here. Bronco can keep an eye on ol’ Travis. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And where did you say we’re going again?” she persisted.

“Oh, hell, I may as well tell you.” With a smile, he brushed a strand of her hair from her eyes. “We’re going to Blackbird Lake.”

The tall man waited until Tanner’s pickup turned the corner off Blue Bell Drive. Then he hit his accelerator and followed at a discreet distance.

Giff Hurley had watched through binoculars as a powerfully built, dark-haired man driving a black SUV had parked in the McKinnon woman’s driveway and carried a box of some sort into the house, and then a few moments later, Tanner and Carly McKinnon had headed out—only the two of them. He didn’t know what that was all about but the man who’d gone inside had “cop” of some sort written all over him.

The sheriff had been there, too, the previous night.
And now this guy shows up.

Damn. I really screwed up. Shouldn’t have been drinking before I went in there. I got real careless.

His client wouldn’t be too happy. The asshole had a temper and had made it more than clear he didn’t want any attention from the cops.
But then,
Giff thought,
he doesn’t need to know. I sure as hell don’t plan to tell him. Not if I don’t have to.

Giff had started out in life planning to build a career on the right side of the law. He’d never thought he’d end up skirting the edge of it.

Hell, he’d wanted to be a cop himself, until he got kicked out of the damned police academy. All because they found out about that stupid drunk driving accident when he was fucking seventeen. They were pissed because he hadn’t bothered to mention it on his application. He guessed mouthing off to his training officer hadn’t helped much, either.

This career was a better fit for him, though. He worked for himself and he didn’t have any dumb-ass rules to follow, except the ones he made up as he went along.

When business was good, he had plenty of dough. When things were quiet, and he hadn’t picked up a case in a while, there were always the casinos.

He usually did pretty well at blackjack—except lately when he’d been on a gawd-damned crazy-shit losing streak.

As Tanner’s truck took a left on Coyote Road, he swore under his breath. Tanner and the McKinnon woman were driving
away
from town, not toward it, and he scowled at his bad luck.

He’d assured his client the woman would be going to her quilt shop like she did every day. Their plan had been to corner her there, with just her and the other woman who worked for her in the shop. Giff had observed that normally customers didn’t show up until an hour after the shop opened. This little town came awake lazily in the morning—except for that bakery, A Bun in the Oven. So they’d be alone with the two women—and maybe only with Carly McKinnon—if things went their way.