Nora Roberts Land (20 page)

“Well, bad boys still need lessons. Don’t make me give you another.”

The phone disconnected.

Tanner kicked the leather ottoman with his boot. “Fuck.”

Sommerville was on a tear. Tanner had little doubt there would be some form of payment now. He could only wait and see.

He needed to call Peggy to talk through autopsy cover-ups. And warn her to watch her back. Sommerville had better not go after his sister.

Picking up the legal pad, he scanned his tightly printed outline.

Suddenly he knew exactly how to make Meredith go out with him, and he wouldn’t even need to toss his ethics to the wind to arrange it.

Chapter 22

W
hen Meredith left the locker room, Tanner was leaning against the concrete block wall outside of it, looking oh-so-delicious in a black fleece and worn denim. She was growing to like their swims way too much.

“I need you to go on a drive with me. There’s something we should talk about.”

She shifted her gym bag, surprised by his serious tone. “Okay.”

Stepping forward, he took the strap from her. “Let me carry it. We can take my car.”

He held the door open for her like usual, but something was up.

His clenched jaw made her stomach hurt. She hoped it wasn’t anything about Jill. She’d been both inconsolable and enraged all week long. Jemma’s death had put a hole in her heart, and Brian’s continued silence was aggravating—and worrying—her. Meredith didn’t know how to help Jill except to visit the coffee shop more often and watch chick flicks with her until she finally fell asleep on the couch.

As soon as they got into the car Tanner turned the heat on, obviously noticing that she was cold. “Do you have any suggestions for a quiet, private place where we won’t be overheard?”

The wind blew hard against the car. She rubbed her arms, her heart beating faster. “How about my grandpa’s house?”

She didn’t ask why he didn’t take her to his place. In some ways, she was glad. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see where he lived. It was too…personal. Not to mention tempting.

“It’ll be okay, Meredith.” He put the car in gear.

He looks hot when he’s all serious.

Meredith didn’t even bother to comment. In a scary way, she was becoming used to the sultry voice in her head.

Tanner drove silently, following her directions. She wrung her hands instead of biting her nails, her mind awash with possibilities. When they arrived, she went around back, unearthing the key from the birdhouse by the deck. The house carried the faint whiff of coffee when she stepped inside. Her grandpa had left about an hour ago, she knew. He was always at work early.

“Do you want some coffee?” She surveyed the dirty dishes in the sink and the crumbs on the counter.

“Sure.” He shut the door and took her coat, hanging it on the fleur-de-lis coat rack.

She couldn’t help noticing how handsome he looked with his big shoulders, thick hair, and brown, melting eyes. The house was suddenly too quiet. She reached for the coffee.

“I had a visitor at my house the other night. I can’t tell you who. I promised him anonymity.”

She dropped the coffee can on the counter, her hands going lax in relief. A story? He’d brought her here for a story?

Looking for something more personal, dearie?

Grabbing the container again, she let out a breath. “Okay. What can you tell me?”

“The source thinks Jemma’s death didn’t play out like the autopsy said.”

She dropped the can again. All her grandpa’s suspicions shouted in her head. She leaned back against the counter. “Why would your source think that?”

“He supplied the marijuana she smoked. He thinks his supplier’s been lacing it. The autopsy should have picked that up. It only mentioned the heart murmur and alcohol, according to
The Independent.”

“Hmm.” She’d figured the reporter had stayed silent out of respect for the dead. The paper didn’t always include all the details from an autopsy report. “So your source—a known drug dealer—thinks there’s a cover up? And you believe him?”

He walked forward, eating up the space between them. “Sit down. I’ll make the coffee.”

She batted his hands away, guilt making her shake. If her grandpa was right, they might have stopped Jemma from dying. “I’m fine! I can do it.” His intense gaze made her look away. She took a shaky breath. “Maybe they didn’t release the information to protect her family.”

She managed to start the coffee, her mind spinning. He waited for her to sit before turning a chair and straddling it.

“If I didn’t believe my source, I wouldn’t be telling you any of this. Most drug dealers wouldn’t disclose to a journalist that their drugs caused someone’s death. Usually they’d let a bogus autopsy fly.”

“Wait a minute! We don’t know anything was bogus. We only know what the paper said. I know the coroner. He’s a family friend.”

“Hold the fort a minute and listen.” He outlined more of what he knew—and what didn’t add up.

Bile rose in her stomach. So, his source had been concerned about clients visiting the ER, so much so that he’d even asked his dealer about it. That jived with her grandpa’s hunch. She needed to talk with him about all this before she said anything to Tanner. Even if he hadn’t been family, it was still reporter’s courtesy. It was her grandpa’s story.

The coffee brewed in the background, filling the kitchen with its dark roast scent. “So why did your source come forward? What’s his angle?”

Tanner crossed his arms on the top of the chair. “A guilty conscience, I think, and reparation. He was a pawn. He wants the people who laced the drugs to pay for what happened to Jemma.”

“We’d have to prove they were laced.”

“I know.”

She studied his face. She responded to his calm and collected approach, and it made her earlier knee-jerk reaction subside. She could trust this man, and if her grandpa agreed, they could share what they already knew.

“So why are you telling me? A good journalist doesn’t want someone else stealing his scoop.”

He raised his hands like a white flag. “I need your help. I don’t have the same access to things in Dare. You just said you know the coroner. That’s the kind of help I need. People will suspect something the minute I start asking questions. Plus, your paper has access to a lot of information. We can start there without tipping anyone off.”

He was right. Outsiders were not part of the inner circle. She was a Hale. People considered her one of their own.

Plus, his source was exactly the kind of break her grandpa had been looking for.

“So what do you want to do?”

“Well, first, get me the autopsy report. Then, we have to create a cover for our investigation. Otherwise people are going to wonder why we’re spending so much time together. There will be a lot of man hours on this. We’ll need to be alone more often.”

All the ideas racing around in her head stilled. Her heart bounced against her chest like a kid playing jacks with a rubber ball. She knew where he was going with this. Her mouth went dry.

“We’re going to have to pretend we’re going out.”

What? The coffee machine coughed and sputtered, so she pushed back from the table to pour them a cup. When she extended his, the rim dipped.

He covered her hand. “Don’t burn your fingers.”

His touch instantly raised goosebumps across her arm. Damn those stupid pheromones.

“Why can’t we simply say we’re working on an article?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“If we do, people will want to know what we’re working on. We’re two high-powered journalists from New York who just arrived in town. It’ll look funny.”

“I don’t—”

“If we tell anyone, it’s your grandpa, no one else.”

“You’re darn right we’ll tell my grandpa. I just have one question.” She dropped her gaze to his lips before meeting his eyes. “Does this have anything to do with your intentions toward me?”

Those chocolate eyes twinkled. “My intentions? That sounds pretty old school. If you’re curious to know, Meredith, my intentions toward you haven’t changed.”

Well, hello, Mr. Darcy.

Meredith pressed her fingers to her navy cashmere bodice with ivory lace cups. “I told you we could go out on Halloween.”

He rubbed the scar by his lips. “I remember. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss we shared. Have you decided to go out with me exclusively?”

She’d thought about it until she was blue in the face with no resolution. She snorted while her heart beat wildly in her chest. “No.”

Chicken,
Divorcée Woman snarled.

He rocked forward on the chair. “Then we’re at an impasse. You’re acting pig-headed. Just because I’m a journalist doesn’t mean I’m Richard Sommerville.”

She sucked in a breath. “Have you been
investigating
me?”

“Because I know who your ex is? Please. Besides, that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

“How do you know?”

“Because his reputation for being a fucking prick extends far and wide.” His hands clenched the chair frame. “Okay, let’s drop this.”

“So you still want me even though you said no to me on Halloween?”

“Are we really having this conversation? You’re making me crazy!”

She pointed to herself. “Me? How am I making
you
crazy?”

“I want you,” he said, his eyes darkening. “I can’t stop thinking about you. But I want us to be exclusive. You don’t. So until you change your mind, we’re only going to pretend to date. Got it?”

A headache spread around her temples. “No. Most guys would be content with being non-exclusive. Heck, they’d be thrilled. Why not you? You’re expecting me to do what…surrender?”

His pulse pounded in his neck. “I’m expecting you to give yourself to me without holding anything back. Can you do that?

Her breath hitched once, twice, three times. “Shit. God. No.”

His chair scraped when he thrust out of it. “Oh Christ, don’t have a panic attack again.”

“I won’t.” She held out her hands to keep him away. His words had turned her skin to brushfire.

He hovered nearby like some hot paramedic waiting to see if she’d need mouth to mouth.

Oh, my,
Divorcée Woman drawled.

“Stand up.” Tanner said. “Meredith, look at me.” A frown-mark appeared between his brows. “I need you to trust me.”

“I…want to.”

He shook her. “Then do it.”

A burning warmth spread out from his hands down to her arms. She moved closer and inhaled the forest musky scent of his soap and shampoo. His gaze dropped to her mouth. She was sure of it.

Kiss him, you idiot.

As she was about to lean in, he pushed her away. He walked to the other side of the kitchen, reaching for her red coat. She tried not to look at his jeans when he turned back toward her and handed her coat to her. But she did. He was aroused, the cords of his neck looking more defined than usual. Suddenly, she could barely draw in a full breath.

“You’ll get the autopsy?” He reached for the door handle like a prisoner ready to make a break for freedom.

“Of course.”

“I’m going to wait outside.” The door slammed behind him.

What are you doing, Meredith Hale?

Good question. She scrubbed her face with her hands and set about putting things back where they belonged, using the time to let them both regain control.

She couldn’t let herself slip again. He was coming too close. Something had to give.

It couldn’t be her.

Chapter 23

T
anner thrust back from the desk in his home office the next morning and gave it a hearty kick. Fuck Sommerville. “Fuck!”

An hour ago, he was heading out the door for his morning swim when his brother gave him a frantic call. Sommerville hadn’t lied. He’d shown his intent to hold Tanner’s feet to the fire by running a nasty article on some discrepancies in David’s voting record. Now David’s opponent would have good fodder against him in the upcoming campaign, which would be a tight race. The article had stayed silent on his brother’s good work as a councilman, of course.

Shoddy, personalized journalism. Well, nothing could be done now. He would have to pretend he was cozy with Meredith. Hopefully their cover would buy him enough time to bury Sommerville without hurting Meredith. The thought of her drove spikes in his gut.

So why the hell had he told her he wanted her when they were in her grandfather’s kitchen?

Because he did.

Desperately.

It was more than being horny. He was old enough to know the difference.

He wanted her. And only her.

God help them both.

Even while he was telling her that she needed to trust him, part of him knew she shouldn’t. The man in him wanted her trust—wanted to earn it. It was impossible. He’d hurt her and come off looking like as big a sleaze as her ex if she ever found out why he was really in Dare.

He gripped the chair to stop from throwing it across the room. His situation was impossible and infuriating.

Glancing at the clock, he called Peggy.

“Did you see the article?”

“Yes. David already called. He’s going to crack, Tanner. He thinks it’s all going to come out and ruin everything. I’m afraid he’ll fall off the wagon again.”

Knowing Peggy’s tense relationship with their brother over his past binges, Tanner knew she was feeling more than she was letting on. Like him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hadn’t thought of that. I was too mad.”

“That’s understandable. I want to take Sommerville down with my bare hands.”

Her violence quieted his own. “We will, Peggy. We just need to keep digging.”

Hearing something from outside, he turned toward the window. Seeing the stray dog again, tail wagging eagerly, only made him feel like a bigger heel. The animal’s ribs were more prominent from hunger. Twigs and leaves dotted his mangy coat like he’d been rolling around on the ground. The mutt’s golden eyes gleamed with excitement when Tanner approached the window. It gave three short barks and charged the glass.