Foxfire (19 page)

“What more is there to talk about?” she
asked.

Tyler sat on the edge of the sofa, placing a
bag on the floor at his feet.

Grace flicked a glance at the bag. “What did
you buy?”

“An alarm system.”

Oh, no. He couldn't possibly have bought that
thing for her house.

She rocked forward, placing both feet firmly
on the floor. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair. “Don't even
tell me that's for my house.”

“It is.”

“People here do not put in alarm systems.
There are no crimes in Foxfire.”

His amused glance infuriated her. She wanted
to believe Foxfire was safe. That's why she moved here, but she'd
brought danger to this community.

“No arguments. If you insist on staying at
your place, we've got to do something to make it safe, especially
with Tiffany laid up.”

Grace knew he was right, but she didn't want
to give him the satisfaction. “I don't need an alarm. I have a
gun.”

His emerald gaze met hers.

She jumped to her feet. “Damn it, Tyler. I
don't need you to protect me. I'm perfectly capable of taking care
of myself. I've been doing it all my life.”

His gaze never wavered. “With a gun?”

She narrowed her gaze. “I know how to handle
the gun quite well, thank you.”

“And you think you're capable of shooting
somebody?”

She held her own. “If I have to.”

“Somehow I doubt you'd be able to shoot
anyone.”

Her face heated. How dare he? Did he really
take her for a woman who'd back down from a threat? It just showed
how little he really knew her. They could never have a relationship
because he was just too cocky, too macho. She didn't need him or
any man to protect her. Not now, not ever.

She pulled herself upright. “That's your
opinion. I can do anything I set my mind to.”

He grinned. “Damned if I don’t believe you.
So, what did Harri tell you?”

The sudden change of subject took her by
surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“Harri said not to forget what she told
you.”

“Oh, that? You mean I didn't tell you?” she
asked in a false disbelieving tone.

“No.”

She hitched both shoulders up and down. “Then
it must have been none of your business.”

Tyler's eyes narrowed into slits and a muscle
twitched in his jaw. He stood and moved toward her. She cringed,
backing against the chair, preparing to flee. But something about
the look in his eyes...something about his demeanor froze her in
place. He looked determined and angry...intent on punishing her.
Before she could make her move, he grabbed her arms, pulling her
toward him and clamping his mouth over hers. The kiss was hot and
angry...and breathtaking. He circled her lips with his probing
tongue and slipped it into her willing mouth.

A throbbing began deep in her stomach,
radiating downward. A clock ticked somewhere in the room. Heavy
breathing rent the air. Were the moans coming from her or Tyler?
She couldn't tell. Their lips were seared together. She felt his
heart pounding, racing faster. His hands slid down and gripped her
hips, fitting her contours to his.

Fire lit in her belly and below. She couldn't
have stopped, even if she wanted to. Which she didn't. She wanted
him, needed him. The intensity of the past twenty-four hours
erupted into overpowering passion.

She inhaled the unique scent that was
Tyler's. Her legs wobbled. She clasped her hands behind his
neck.

He broke the kiss, and she gave a cry of
protest.

He lifted her in his arms, and he flicked his
tongue against the side of her neck, then circled the inside of her
ear.

Her body had turned to a quivering mass of
want. With great skill, he continued to seduce her. She clung to
him desperately, pushing away the doubts, the fear, the anger.

****

Suddenly, he felt someone else's presence. He
released Grace and stepped away from her.

He looked over her shoulder into the amused
face of Jake Scott. “What are you doing here?” Tyler demanded.

Jake said, “Looks like I caught you at a bad
time. Ms. Wilkins, I presume?”

Tyler looked down at Grace, surprised to see
a grin on her face.

“Ah, hell. Grace, meet Jake Scott. Jake,
Grace Wilkins.”

Jake's lips tilted upward. “Nice to meet you,
Grace.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “I'll just in here while
you finish...whatever you were—”

Tyler flung a throw pillow at his head. “Go
to hell, Jake.”

“Nice to meet you,” Grace called out to
Jake's back.

Tyler growled, kissed Grace with a promise
that they would finish what they'd started.

“Why do you suppose he's here?” Grace
asked.

“I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I
told him to send in some backup, but I didn't expect
him
to
come.” He winked before leaving the room.

Chapter Twelve

Jake looked around as Tyler entered the room.
“Nice digs.”

“I asked what you're doing here.”

Jake motioned to the chair. “You called,
remember? Sit down.”

Tyler sank into the chair. “I asked for guys
to do some surveillance.”

“What, I don't qualify?”

Tyler ran a hand through his hair. “Things
have been heating up.”

“Obviously,” Jake answered.

Tyler met Jake's amused glance.

“That's not what I meant.”

Jake leaned forward. “I've got news. Max is
walking around with a new face.”

“Just like we figured.”

“Right. We've got the doc who did it.”

“Couldn't you have told me this over the
phone?”

“Yeah, but I thought you might want this, and
you don't have a fax.”

Jake held out a picture. Tyler recognized
Max's eyes in the unfamiliar face.

“The ‘after’ picture. The doctor had a hidden
camera. Felt he needed to protect himself.”

A soft indrawn breath drew both men's
attention to Grace. “I've seen that guy. If that's Max, he is
here.”

Tyler handed the picture to Grace. “Are you
sure?”

“I'm positive. I know his eyes. I should have
figured it out before now.” She handed the picture back to Tyler.
“I saw him outside the D.A.'s office when I returned my key. He
watched me get on the elevator. Something about him seemed
familiar. He gave me the creeps.”

“I take it she knows?” Jake asked.

Grace swung to face him. “Don't talk as if
I'm invisible. I know you sent Tyler here to find Max, and I know
he's using me to do it. So, yes, I know.”

Tyler put a hand on her waist. “Grace—”

She pushed his hand away. “I also know that
you need my help if you want to succeed. So, whatever plans you
have in mind better include me.” She looked at Tyler, then at Jake.
“Gentlemen, shall we talk?”

Jake held out his hand. “I'm glad to meet
you, Grace, and I think you're right. We need to work
together—”

“Not on your life,” Tyler said. “We're not
putting her in danger. This is our fight, not hers.”

“You're wrong.” Grace placed her hands on her
hips. “This is my fight. Max is here for one reason. He wants me.
You're here because you want Max. I'm the common denominator.”

“She's right, Tyler. We need her.”

This wasn't what Tyler wanted. Not now.
Hadn't he and Grace moved to a new level in their relationship? How
could he let her become a pawn in this game of revenge? He ran a
hand through his hair.

****

Max waited until the old man and his gaudy
companion drove away before leaving his hiding place. Something was
up. He'd watched the two men on the porch talking as if plotting
something, but he'd come too far to let anything stop him now.

Stupidity couldn't defeat genius. He'd show
them no one could cross Max Clayton.

He slipped a tool from his pocket, inserted
it in the lock, and opened the door of the old man’s house. He
walked into a small living room and gave it a quick once-over. A
natural stone fireplace dominated one wall. The whole place had a
rustic look, complimented by the heavy wood sofa with blue and
brown plaid cushions, wood table lamps, hardwood floors with
braided rugs in shades of brown, and a solid blue recliner. A
mirror hung above the narrow mantle. Several pictures in wooden
frames standing on the mantle were the only decorations. He lifted
a picture frame and looked at a young woman's face, lips lifted in
a smile, eyes sparkling as if hiding a happy secret. Her shoulder
length brown hair parted in the middle and brushed her cheeks in
soft waves. Who was she? The old man's daughter? Nice looking
broad.

Max sat the picture back in place and moved
into the kitchen. He removed the bag from his back, unzipped it and
reached inside. In the past, he'd always assigned this type of job
to one of his minions. Now he was reduced to doing his own dirty
work. The only redeeming factor lay in knowing he'd soon have his
revenge on Grace.

The bitch deserved every exciting thing he
planned for her. All the previous kills only fueled his desire to
save Grace for last. She knew the truth now—that Max had found her
and her days were short on this earth. She'd turned against him,
testified against him after all he'd done to make her life better.
When he met her she was nothing but a cocktail waitress. He
showered her with gifts, put her in a nicer apartment, introduced
her to his friends and planned to marry her one day. Oh, yes, she
deserved to die begging for her life.

His fingers deftly went to work. In a few
minutes, he'd rigged the kitchen door to explode when it opened.
Max checked the C-4 and the wiring to ensure it would ignite
properly. He used a small charge, for he didn't want to set the
entire mountainside on fire. He needed just enough to do major
damage to the old man.

When Max was satisfied with his work, he
closed the bag, shifted it onto his back and left the way he'd
entered.

****

Grace looked at Jake. “What do you want me to
do?”

“Why don't you tell me what you know about
Max. Then we can put our heads together and come up with a
plan.”

“I don't like this,” Tyler said. “Max is
dangerous. I don't want—”

A loud explosion rent the air.

“Stay here,” Tyler ordered, shoving Grace
into the chair.

Anger brought her to her feet.

Tyler rushed toward the kitchen.

Jake followed closely behind. “What the
hell?”

“Sounded like a bomb,” Tyler said.

“Hurry,” Grace said as she passed them both
with a burst of speed, racing onto the deck.

“Grace, stay here until we find out what's
going on.”

“Not on your life,” she cried, racing down
the stairs.

Dark smoke rose above the tree line.

“Oh, my God, it looks like Brad's house,”
Grace yelled.

Sirens cut through the sounds of heavy
breathing as she raced along the mountain toward her friend's
house. She prayed she was wrong. Maybe someone had set fire to a
heap of trash and it got out of control. But the explosion? Please,
God, let it be anything but what her heart feared.

False hopes were quickly destroyed when they
reached Brad's yard. He lay on the ground, his leg askew, his face
and hands covered with black char. A small piece of wood protruded
from his cheek. Large splinter-like spikes of wood peppered his
arms.

Brightly colored clothes decorated the lawn,
probably the ones Harri had intended for the church. The back porch
had been destroyed and flames flickered along the outside wall of
the kitchen. Grace registered everything within seconds, full of
anger at the destruction. She looked around. Where was Harri?

She dropped to the ground beside Brad.

“Don't touch him,” Tyler warned
unnecessarily. He knelt on the ground and placed two fingers gently
on Brad's neck. “He's alive.”

Jake flipped open a cell phone and walked a
few feet away. She hoped he was calling an ambulance.

Grace leaned close to Brad's ear. “Brad, it's
me. I'm here. Can you hear me?” Grace pleaded.

A car door slammed and Harri came running to
where Brad lay. “Oh, no. Oh, no.” Her eyes overflowed with tears. A
low moan rose from her throat, then built to a loud, keening wail.
“Brad!” She threw herself on him, but Tyler reacted quickly,
lifting her off his prone body.

“Let me go.” Harri struggled to break free,
but Tyler kept her firmly in his grip.

“Harri, listen to me. Help is on the way. He
might have broken bones. You don't want to hurt him any more than
he already is, do you?”

Harri shook her head in defeat. Tyler
awkwardly hugged her, continuing to assure her Brad would be all
right. He looked over his shoulder at Grace.

“He's not responding,” Grace said.

“He can't hear you right now. The blast will
have deafened him temporarily.”

A fire engine arrived, followed by an
ambulance. Two paramedics pushed Grace back so they could tend to
Brad. They examined him, attached an oxygen mask to his face, then
lifted him onto a stretcher. Harri climbed into the ambulance and
Grace tried to follow.

“There isn't room for both of you.” The
paramedic attending Brad gave her a sympathetic look and reached to
close the door.

“I'll make room,” Grace insisted. Her face
must have shown her determination, for he offered no further
argument as she squeezed in beside Harri.

He shut the door and the ambulance sped away,
siren blaring. Grace and Harri were jostled from side to side, but
Harri seemed unaffected. Black mascara ran unheeded down her
cheeks. Her green tank top was smudged with the black smoke that
riddled Brad's clothes and body.

Brad's eyes fluttered open and locked on
Harri's face. “What...?” He grimaced in pain, then closed his eyes,
losing consciousness.

“Brad, don't you dare give up,” Grace
ordered. “You're going to make it, you hear me? I need you. Harri
needs you. Hang on. Please, please hang on.”