Explosive Attraction (7 page)

“What about your receptionist, Mindy?”

“Assistant, not receptionist.”

He raised a brow and waited for her answer.

She chewed her bottom lip as she thought about what she would need. “Okay, that will work. I’ll ask her to go by my house and get some of my notes in my home office, too. It might take a few hours for her to pull everything together.”

He looked at his watch
and stood. “We can’t stay here much longer. Someone is bound to see my truck and assume you’re here with me.”

“What do you mean? Our names weren’t in the paper. And wouldn’t the bomber think I’m still at the hospital? That’s why we left while it was still dark yesterday morning.”

He gave her a droll look. “How long have you lived in St. Augustine?”

“All my life. Why?”

“Me,
too, so we both know how small towns work. The bombing, the boat crash, the search for the gunman in the marsh, Daniels’s murder—it’s all over the news. By now, someone at the hospital has pieced it together, that you and I were the ones the gunman was after. They’ve told a friend, who told another friend, and so on. It’s only a matter of time until the reporters hear our names and go on the hunt.
We need to get out of here, get new transportation and find a new place to stay before some overzealous reporter leads the killer straight to you.”

* * *

A
FTER
FINISHING
WITH
the sketch artist, Darby and Rafe were about to leave the police station when a man stepped in front of the door, blocking their way.

Jake. Again.

“Move,” Rafe said. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Make time. What the hell was that all about at the hospital? You almost ran me down.”

“I might ask you the same thing. Why were you hunting for Darby and me with a gun?”

Jake’s brows rose. “
Hunting?
I went to the hospital to see you. When the power went out, I figured you might be in trouble. So I went up the back stairs to try to find you. And
protect
you.” His face twisted with anger.
“Is that what you thought? That I was trying to kill you? Are you really that stupid?”

Rafe narrowed his eyes at his former friend. “Are you stupid enough to think I’d believe you went to the hospital to
visit
me? Especially after holding your gun on me before those SWAT guys showed up?”

Jake’s hands tightened into fists. “Maybe I was being a jerk in the stairwell, but I wouldn’t have
pulled the trigger. I didn’t say I went to the hospital to
visit
you. I said I went to
see
you, to discuss the evidence I collected in the warehouse. To brainstorm about the case that I’m trying to solve.” He added a few choice swearwords, letting Rafe know exactly what he thought of his suspicions.

“Uh, Rafe. Everyone’s watching us.” Darby put her hand on his arm.

Sure enough, everyone
in the lobby was watching them. A couple of uniformed officers looked ready to step in, if necessary. Hell, if he and Jake came to blows right now they’d both end up in the tank, meaning Darby would have to rely on someone else for guard duty.

Since he didn’t trust anyone but himself to look after her, he forced himself to calm down. He drew a deep breath.

“Get out of my way, Jake.”

Jake shook his head. “Believe it or not, I’m actually trying to help. You can’t go out this way.” He pointed through the glass doors to the parking lot. “The
St. Augustine Record
has a reporter sitting in a silver Ford Taurus parked right beside your flashy truck.”

Rafe stepped to the side, shading his eyes against the sun reflecting through the glass. Sure enough, there was someone sitting
in a Taurus beside his truck, a Taurus he recognized as belonging to one of the
Record
’s reporters—Robert Ellington.

He gave Jake a terse nod. “Thanks. I was going to swap my ‘flashy truck’ with someone else’s vehicle. I’ll just call and have him pick me up here instead.”

“Take mine. I’ll drive yours.” Jake held up a set of keys.

Ignoring the keys, Rafe waited for the sarcastic
comment he knew would come next.

Jake’s face turned a dull shade of red. “Look, there’s no angle here. Yesterday morning I was trying to flag you down to trade cars at the hospital, but you practically ran me over. I just want to make sure Dr. Steele gets out of here safely, without some reporter following her.”

Wait for it. Wait for it...

“Besides, you suck at protecting people.
You need all the help you can get.”

“Keep your keys.” He shoved Jake out of the way and pulled Darby through the door after him.

As they neared his truck, he pressed the clicker and unlocked the doors. He hurried to the driver’s side, picked Darby up and practically threw her inside, slamming the door closed behind her. Darby’s eyes widened when he pulled out a pocketknife and turned
back to the car beside them.

The reporter was just getting out of his car when Rafe stabbed one of the rear tires. The reporter ran behind his car, his mouth dropping open like a widemouthed bass.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t do that.”

“I just did,
Bobby.
” Rafe couldn’t resist baiting the other man, knowing he preferred to be called Robert. He grabbed the man’s
camera, holding it above the shorter man’s head, out of reach. He took out the memory card and the battery, tossing them through the open window into the back floorboard of the Taurus, then throwing the camera onto the passenger seat.

Bobby’s face turned bright red. “You won’t get away with this, Morgan. I have my rights.”

Leaning in through the open window, Rafe took the keys out of
the ignition and tossed them into the shrubs a few feet away. “Dr. Steele has the right to be safe. That trumps the first amendment any day. Besides, I’m not stopping you. I’m just delaying you. Bill the station for the tire.”

He yanked his truck door open and hopped inside.

Darby glared at him. “Don’t you think you overreacted just a bit?” she accused.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

Memories of the brutal home invasion, the senseless loss of his wife and the press’s intrusion into his private life had his jaw clenching. Ellington had been the worst of all the reporters, splashing the story in the newspaper long after other news outlets had let the story die a natural death. Ellington was the one who kept digging, looking for a motive.

He was the one who found out
about the adultery.

That was the first, and only, time Rafe had ever lost his temper with a civilian. Ellington had spent a week in the hospital. Rafe had spent an entire month on unpaid suspension.

He twisted the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. “Let’s just say, he and I have a history.”

Chapter Seven

Darby quietly watched Rafe as he drove them down a residential street into the heart of St. Augustine’s historic district, a neighborhood of wooden two-story houses shaded by centuries-old live oak trees. He’d told her they were going to exchange his truck for another vehicle, but that’s about all he’d said to her since they’d left the police station.

“Want to
talk about it?” she asked.

“Talk about what?” He put the blinker on, and slowed to turn down another street, edging around a group of teenagers standing near the end of a driveway.

“The reason you’re so angry. It’s not good to keep that kind of emotion inside. Talking might help.”

He shot her a quick glance. “And you’re a good listener, is that it?”

“I have a PhD in listening.”

His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. “I’m well aware of your PhD. I’ve dealt with it in court dozens of times. For the record, I don’t put much stock in that piece of paper.”

She reminded herself she was trying to help, and that now wasn’t the time to respond with anger. She shouldn’t take any of this personally. It took about ten times of her repeating that to herself before
she could speak again without gritting her teeth.

“Have you and Jake tried to talk out this animosity between you? I’d be happy to sit with both of you. An independent third party can help defuse—”

Rafe sharply turned the wheel.

Darby grabbed the armrest with both hands as he turned into a driveway and slammed the brakes.

The truck rocked on its springs. Rafe unclicked his
seat belt and turned to face her. “Are your parents still alive?”

She stiffened, not at all pleased by the change of subject. “Excuse me?”

“Are they still alive—your mother, your father? Unless you were raised in an orphanage, I assume you have parents.”

“No, I wasn’t raised in an orphanage,” she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I have parents.”

“Still living?”

She clenched her hands in her lap. “Yes. What’s this got to do—”

“Sisters? Brothers? One of each, two?”

“Why are you asking about my family?” She glanced at the house in front of them. “I thought we were going to borrow a car, trade your truck with someone. Shouldn’t we—”

“Do they live around here? You said you grew up here. Are you sure you don’t want my phone so you can give
them a call?” He cocked his head to the side. “Oh, wait. Maybe you don’t have their number memorized. It’s programmed into your cell phone, and you don’t have your phone with you. No problem. I can call information, get the number.” He slid his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your dad’s first name? Oh, wait. What about his last name? Is it Steele, or have you been married before, changed your
name?”

She sputtered, her mouth opening and closing, but she couldn’t seem to put a single coherent thought together.

“I’m waiting.” His finger was poised over the phone, a banal smile on his face.

She crossed her arms. “My father’s last name is Steele, but I’m not telling you his first name. I’m not discussing my family with you. My family is none of your business.”

He arched
a brow and lowered his phone. “Really? Why?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Because...it’s personal. You and I barely know each other, certainly not well enough to discuss...”

The smug smile on his face made everything click together.

“Is this your way of telling me to mind my own business about you and Jake?” she asked.

“What do you think?”

She rolled her eyes and dropped
her arms. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking about Jake...for now.” The man was absolutely infuriating, and she hated that he’d just outmaneuvered her.

“And I’ll stop asking about your family. For now.” He threw his door open.

“Wait, aren’t we supposed to go trade your truck for a different car?”

“Yep. That’s why we’re here.” He winked and hopped out of the truck. Darby blinked in shock
as Rafe strode around the hood of the truck to the passenger side. Had he really just winked at her? She wasn’t sure what to make of that, but she didn’t have time to think about it. Rafe opened her door, lifted her out of the impossibly high-up truck and set her on her feet. He didn’t wait for a thank-you. Instead, he hurried up to the house where the front door had just opened to reveal a disheveled
blond man.

Darby gritted her teeth in frustration. Hopefully Rafe would trade the truck for a low-to-the-ground car that would better accommodate her height. It was really getting old being picked up all the time as if she were a child.

She hurried to join Rafe. The man in the doorway turned bloodshot eyes on her. His lack of a shirt, along with jeans that were practically falling off
his narrow hips because he hadn’t bothered to button them, indicated he’d just woken up even though it was well past two in the afternoon.

He didn’t look too thrilled to see Rafe, but when he noticed Darby, his mouth curved into a roguish grin. “Well, hello, beautiful. Come on in. I’m Nick. And who might you be?”

“D...Darby. Darby Steele,” she stammered, a bit stunned at having a gorgeous,
half-naked man flirt with her. Before she could protest, he’d grabbed her hand and hauled her inside.

“Close the door, will you?” he yelled at Rafe as he pulled Darby into the kitchen. “I was just about to make some coffee, darlin’. Want some?”

“Um...I...ah—”

“No, she doesn’t. I need a car.” Rafe stepped into the kitchen, snatching Darby’s hand away from Nick. He pulled out one
of the kitchen chairs for her to sit.

She sat, enjoying the view as the Adonis who called himself Nick set about brewing a pot of coffee. He reminded her of Brad Pitt in the movie
Troy.
Shoulder-length blond hair, broad shoulders, golden skin. She rested her chin in her palm and sighed.

Nick grinned, as if he knew what she was thinking.

Rafe rolled his eyes.

“What?” she asked
innocently.

He tossed his keys on the countertop. “Unlike some people,
Nicholas,
I’m in a bit of a hurry here.”

Nick pressed the coffeemaker’s on button and turned around, looking completely unconcerned. “If you’re in a hurry,
Rafael,
maybe you should have called first.”

“I didn’t think you’d be lying in bed this late in the day. Some of us work for a living and have been up for
hours.”

Darby wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a teasing note in Rafe’s voice.

Nick sat down across from her. “Please forgive my brother’s poor manners. If I knew he needed a car I would have had one gassed up and ready to go. But since he didn’t bother to tell me, I don’t have a car here. And he knows very well I’ve been working nights, which is why I’m not dressed for company.”

“Your brother?” Darby glanced back and forth between them. Other than their basic build—over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, muscular—there was nothing about them that would make her think they were related. Rafe had dark hair, almost black, and deep blue eyes. Nick was all golden, from his honey-blond hair to his sun-kissed skin, and his eyes were hazel. Darby preferred Rafe’s dark good
looks over Nick’s, but that didn’t reduce her enjoyment in viewing Nick in his half-naked state.

Nick gave her a long-suffering look “Yes, he’s my brother. I’m cursed with two of them. But God made up for it by giving me three smart, sassy sisters who tease both my brothers mercilessly. I’m the favorite, of course.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “What about you? Are
you cursed with a big family like me?”

“I...um.”

“Does your fiancée know how much you still flirt with other women?” Rafe asked.

Nick shot him a dark look. “We’re not discussing my on-again, off-again fiancée today.”

“Ah, so it’s
off
again. When are you going to move on to someone else?”

Darby suddenly realized what Rafe had just done. He’d diverted Nick’s attention, turning
the conversation away from his questions about her family. She gave him a nod of thanks.

He gave her a subtle nod in return. “Since you don’t have a car here,” Rafe continued, “we might as well go.” He grabbed his keys and held his hand out for Darby.

Nick shoved his arm away. “Give it a rest. I can have a car here in fifteen minutes.” He leaned over and grabbed the cordless phone off
its base on the wall.

Darby couldn’t help but stare at his perfect, golden skin stretched taut across his well-defined abs. He spoke to someone named Kitty, telling her to hurry home with a car, and promising her she’d get to drive his brother’s four-wheel-drive truck.

Rafe scowled as Nick hung up the phone. “Whoever Kitty is, she’s not driving my truck. I just had it repainted from
the last time one of your friends scratched it up.”

“I paid for that paint job, so you have nothing to complain about.” Nick plopped down in the chair across from Darby again. “Tell me, darlin’, why is a beautiful woman like you hanging around my brooding brother? You can do much better than him.” He winked, obviously implying he meant himself.

She laughed, but when Rafe frowned at her,
she tried to contain her amusement.

“Leave her alone, Romeo,” Rafe said. “She’s with me. I’m her bodyguard. Someone’s trying to kill her.”

Nick’s smile faded. “Who?”

“The bomber in the paper.”

“That was you? The boat crash?”

Rafe nodded. “I left you a voice mail.”

“I’ve been using a burn phone. Haven’t checked my voice mail in a while.” Nick turned his attention back
to Darby. “He never could drive a boat. I, on the other hand, am an expert. Ever been to the Keys? I go there a lot. I could take you around and show you—”

“She doesn’t need a DEA guy. She needs a bomb tech. You wouldn’t know a mercury switch from a radio-controlled detonator.”

“True.” Nick shrugged. “But I have other talents.” He grinned, and Darby felt her face grow warm.

“When’s
your girlfriend getting here?” Rafe asked, his voice sounding aggravated. “If I knew it would take this long I would have switched cars with Lance instead.”

Nick stood and leaned against the wall. “Kitty’s not my girlfriend. She’s DEA. We’re working a case. Speaking of work, why couldn’t you take one of the loaners from the station? Are they too cheap to give you a car these days? What about
the impound lot?”

“I wanted a car with muscle, that no one who knows me would recognize.” Rafe didn’t look at Nick when he said that.

All signs of amusement faded from Nick’s face. “Why are you worried someone might recognize the car you’re driving? The only people who’d know those police loaners or your impound inventory are...” His voice trailed off and he looked at Darby as if he
wasn’t comfortable speaking in front of her anymore.

Taking the hint, she pushed up from the table and grabbed the cordless phone Nick had just used. “If you two don’t mind, I’ll go in the other room and call my assistant. I need to arrange a meeting with her so she can bring me a few things.”

Both men nodded, obviously relieved to have a few moments alone.

She left the kitchen
and headed into the adjoining family room, crossing to the far side so she could give the men more privacy.

A small scattering of pictures on a metal and glass bookshelf caught her attention. From the looks of it, Rafe and Nick came from a large family. There were several group photos, featuring Rafe and Nick smiling and posing at what looked to be family get-togethers. Most of the pictures
were taken outside—boating, fishing, picnicking at the beach.

Even Rafe was smiling in most of the pictures. One smaller photograph, off to the side, showed him and a leggy, beautiful blonde who almost matched him in height. From the way they were looking at each other, she had no doubt who the woman was—Shelby Morgan, the wife he’d lost over a year ago.

Seeing how happy he’d been in
the pictures had Darby wishing she’d had the chance to get to know him before he’d changed. Because of his cold demeanor at the courthouse, she’d always assumed he was suffering from survivor’s guilt, because his wife had died and he’d survived. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she hadn’t seen him smile much even before his wife’s death. When had he changed from the happy
man in these pictures to the man he was today? Two years, longer? If losing his wife hadn’t changed him, then what had?

Moving to the sliding glass doors that looked out over a retention pond with a fountain in the middle, she punched Mindy’s cell number into the phone. Mindy answered on the first ring.

“Dr. Steele, Darby, is that you?” Her voice sounded frantic, making Darby flinch
with guilt. Buresh had called Mindy the day she and Rafe were admitted to the hospital, and Rafe had spoken to her when he’d asked her to pack Darby some clothes, but she now realized she should have called Mindy herself, to reassure her.

“Yes, Mindy, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

“Oh, my gosh. I was so worried. I didn’t know what to do. Are you okay? Are you coming back to work?
I canceled your appointments through tomorrow, but I wasn’t sure—”

“Take a breath. Calm down. Everything is going to be fine, but I can’t go back to work just yet.”

“Just yet? What does that mean? Is that man still after you? What are you—”

“Mindy, Mindy, please listen for a minute. I promise you I’m fine. The police are being cautious and keeping me in hiding until they get this
guy. You did the right thing by canceling my appointments, but I need you to cancel a few more, at least through the end of the week. I’ll need all of my files for my current clients. Most of my regulars should be okay missing this week, but there are a few I’d worry about if they miss even one appointment. I need to refer them out to other psychologists. Plus, I need some other files, older ones.
Are you writing this down?”

“Oh, shoot. Hang on, I’ll get a pen.”

Darby stepped back to the bookshelf, unable to resist the lure of looking at more pictures while she waited. Seeing a family that looked so happy, so close, was such a refreshing change from her memories of her own family.