The Drake House (13 page)

“That’s everything from Andrew’s file,” she said.

Handing the copies to Detective Lafferty, Trisha sat on the couch next to Brad. He slipped his hand inside hers, squeezing tight. She chanced a look at Nick, trying to gauge his response to all this, but his face remained guarded. He hadn’t looked at her since before the phone rang.

Lafferty leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I understand you had a sleepwalking incident last night?”

Trisha kept her eyes on Nick, even if he wouldn’t look at her. “Yes. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

“Any chance you were over at the ranch?”

Her gaze whipped to him. Cold steel edged her voice. “Are you suggesting I did this?”

Lafferty shrugged. “You were the only one here.”

She stood. “Obviously I wasn’t, because I didn’t kill Andrew.”

“I was with her all night,” Nick interjected. “Including while she was sleepwalking. She didn’t go anywhere near the house.”

“I came while they were still outside.” This from Brad.

They were defending her, and not fighting while doing so. It should’ve brought her some relief. Instead, all she could think about was if she had told Nick not to stay, she wouldn’t have an alibi.

Lafferty stood. “I didn’t think you did do it, Ms. Eaton, but it was necessary to ask. Mr. McArthur’s six feet tall,” his gaze traveled over her, “and I don’t think you have the weight to…”

Even he couldn’t say it. Or he was being polite about it in front of them. He briefly glanced at the two men with raised brows. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, so she stayed silent.

“For the record,” Nick said, “I was with her the whole time trying to wake her up.”

“Yep,” Brad agreed. “She was still out of it when I got here.”

Jotting that down in a small spiral notebook, Lafferty asked, “Did you see anything by the house? A car? A light on?”

Both Nick and Brad shook their heads and exchanged a look. Something passed between them, something like a silent agreement not to relay the incident with the person in the woods.
Why not tell the police about that?

“You had some trouble with an employee.” Lafferty checked his notes. “Mike?”

Trisha never thought of that, but Mike said he was going to rehab. The alarm codes had been changed, as well as the locks. Andrew never would’ve let Mike in anyway.

“I’ll give you his info, but I don’t think it was him.”

Lafferty nodded. “Where are the rest of the employees?”

“They’re off until next week,” Trisha answered. And thank God no one else was here. If someone else had been hurt…

“I’ll need their names anyway.”

“Fine. How long before you are done here?”

Lafferty radioed in to the crew down at the ranch house using a two-way. “How far along are you?”

The radio crackled for moments before a voice came on. “Coroner took the body. Pictures are done. Outside crew finished the sweep. Getting the last of the prints now.” Pause. “There’s almost nothing here.”

Nick turned his back to them, brushing a hand across his face and over the back of his neck.

Lafferty attached the radio to his belt. “No one can go in the house until we clear it. Shouldn’t be more than a few days.” He again looked at the two men in the room before returning his gaze to her. “Do you have an alarm system? Someone to stay with you?”

“I’m staying with her,” Nick said, turning around, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll set the alarm.”

She should be pissed. She should be demanding she could run her own life in her own house without the need to be told what to do. But she wasn’t. She was scared out of her mind, and Nick would be here to keep her safe. He’d protect her.

That should’ve angered her too. She wasn’t characteristically the damsel in distress type. She abhorred women like that. She loved her independence, her strong will. But none of that seemed to matter right now. Because Andrew was dead, there was a man in her woods with a gun, and the sleepwalking was worse than it had ever been.

I’m so damn helpless
.

The detective turned to Nick. “Crime scene tape will go up before we leave. I know you’re on the Small Rapids P.D., but just let us handle this. If you get anything, call.”

“We don’t have the manpower or experience to handle this, so you’ll get no interference from us.”

Detective Lafferty left, and Trisha made her excuses to go call her employees. She needed to be alone.

Chapter Eight

When Trisha finally emerged from her office after calling everyone, it was past dark. It had been a fight, but she assured all her men Nick was staying at the house and not to return until Saturday as planned. Nancy had cried through the whole conversation.

Brad was sitting next to Nick on the couch with a half-eaten pizza on the coffee table in front of them. The smell made her sick. A fire was crackling in the fireplace. It could be just any normal day. Except it wasn’t. They stopped talking when she came in.

“You get a hold of everyone?” Brad asked.

She nodded. “I think I liked it better when you two were fighting,” she said, sitting in a chair across from them. “What are you two talking about?”

“We were talking about the phone calls and the warning.”

She could always count on Brad to be honest with her. Nick’s gaze locked with hers and she swallowed. “What about it?”

Determination and anger blared in his eyes. “I’m going to check our file on Alexandra Drake at the station in the morning.”

It was like ice water on her brain. “What? Why?”

Brad interrupted. “The calls started when we were kids, right? More specifically, they started when you showed an interest in the Drake house. We don’t even know how Alexandra died or if this is connected.”

Nick leaned forward. “This is between us. The three of us only. I can’t go around asking questions, so we have to be careful. Something strange is going on here.”

“That’s why we didn’t tell the Madison police about the guy in the woods,” Brad said.

Trisha bit her lip. “My dad said there was a rescue team from Madison here when I was a kid. Something about me disappearing and scraping my knee.” They were both eyeing her with a mixture of trepidation and interest. “It didn’t make much sense at the time. Something scared the crap out of him, cause he clammed up in a hurry.”

Leaning back against the couch, Nick crossed his arms. “I’ll check for a file on that incident. To my way of thinking, there’s too much coincidence for this not to be related to Drake. The tree that was chopped down was right in front of the path. The man you saw in the orchard pointed to the stump then you. Not to mention, I get a threatening call after you’re sleepwalking again?”

Trisha’s eyes narrowed. “The calls started again after our date. Are we sure this isn’t some jealous whack job?”

Nick appeared to mull that over. “I don’t think so. Brad isn’t getting calls, and you two are—”

“Friends,” she interrupted with a warning.

“Right.” Nick’s tone was unbelieving. He eyed the two of them and shrugged. “This ties to something from when you were kids. I just don’t get what it has to do with now. Even without that, I don’t think it’s a jealous ex. You’ve had boyfriends before without intimidating calls.”

Trisha looked at Brad, an exchange of challenge. “Tell him, please.”

Brad tried to worm his way out of it, his way of guarding her. Trish wasn’t having it. She kept her eyes on Brad, pleading. Whatever this chemistry was between her and Nick may only be chemistry. She wouldn’t and couldn’t ever marry Nick, settle down and raise a litter of mini-Nicks while living happily ever after. But he deserved the truth. He was going to find out sometime. Trish would rather he hear it from Brad than the gossip mill.

Finally relenting, Brad turned to Nick. “I’m gay.”

Nick laughed, long and loud, before standing in discomfort when they weren’t laughing, too. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting back down. His gaze raked over Brad. “Really?”

Clearing her throat, Trisha brought Nick’s attention back to her. “So you see, Nick, Brad is more likely to date you than date me. Most of the town knows his sexual preference, so no one would be jealous of him if this were about me.”

Brad tuned in, growing more serious. “You’re a new police officer in town, showing interest in Trisha. In addition, her sleepwalking is drawing her back to the Drake property. Someone’s threatened by one or all of those scenarios.”

She was too damn tired for this now. “I’m going up,” Trish said while rising and nodding to the stairs. “I agree we should keep this between ourselves.”

An involuntary shiver tore through her. She knew almost everyone in this town. The thought that someone had done such unspeakable violence, and here on her land, to one of her friends, was appalling. “Detective Lafferty said not to get involved.”

She kissed Brad on the cheek. “Go home to your parents. Get some sleep.” When he agreed, she glanced at Nick. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

****

Nick watched Trisha ascend the stairs. Part of him, a
very
big part of him, wanted to follow. She’d just lost one of her workers today, a man she considered a friend. She’d withstood the questions and accusations with bravado, but she was going to collapse sometime.

Nick was no knight in armor. He wasn’t even sure he had much emotion left in him after the shooting in Milwaukee. But something inside started to crack when he met her, and today it split wide open. Something that had him wanting to hold her and comfort her. And something stronger that wanted to kiss all the bad memories out of her.

Brad cleared his throat. “If you’re done ogling…”

Nick shifted on the couch uncomfortably.

“There’s a reason Trish and I are so close—beyond friendship. She saved my life once.”

Nick looked at him.

“We were thirteen, skating on the pond over by the library, when the ice cracked and I fell in. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t save myself, so she did it for me. She pulled me out, covered me in her coat, and forced my ass to walk the two blocks home.” He sighed and looked away. “They kept me in the hospital for a week. Trish came every day. Sometimes she’d climb in the bed with me, thinking I still needed to warm up, sometimes she’d just sit and cry.”

Nick pictured Brad and Trish, younger versions of what they were now. Two scared kids, one who almost died. He could see now what the bond was, why Brad was so determined to protect her. Because she had done that for him years ago.

“The doctors said if she hadn’t made me walk home I may have lost my legs. Or died. It kept the blood flowing and the limbs moving. I still can’t handle really cold weather for long periods. Neither can she. Trish almost lost her hands to frostbite.”

“Jesus,” Nick said.

Brad stood. “I love her, Nick. More than anything. She’s a damn good person who didn’t deserve any of this. She laid down her life for me once, and I’d do it for her. We have to find out what’s going on.”

“We will,” he said, watching Brad don his coat. “In the meantime, tell me what to do about the sleepwalking.”

Brad fiddled with the zipper on his coat, looking lost. “It’s best to stick to a routine. Avoid stress, bedtime the same time, a bath to calm down. Nancy gives her chamomile tea. When she’s having a nightmare, try to wake her then. If not, and she’s already sleepwalking, don’t try to wake her by shaking her or yelling her name. I squeeze her hand and say her name calmly. Eventually she snaps out of it.” He paused and looked at him. “Sometimes she doesn’t and you just have to wait.”

“I didn’t hear her last night. She was outside before…”

Brad nodded. “There’s a door alarm somewhere in one of the kitchen drawers. Put it on her bedroom door. Sometimes it’s enough to wake her. If not, it’ll wake you.” His mouth firmed into a thin line before he said, “She’s never been this bad. With Andrew and everything…”

“I’ll watch her. I promise.”
Like a hawk.
It’s not like he slept much himself.

Brad opened the front door. “Thanks.”

“Look, I was kind of an ass…”

Brad stopped him with what could’ve passed for a smile. “Yeah, you were. So was I.”

As far as apologies went, it was sincere, and as gushy as two guys would get. Nick grinned. “Gay,” he muttered, not realizing he said it out loud until Brad stepped onto the porch and turned. “Really?”

“Really. But you’re not my type.”

Nick laughed, Brad joined in. “Goodnight.”

He made sure Brad got into his car all right, and after his taillights were gone from view, Nick set the security alarm with the code Trish gave him. He checked the back door and flipped the sensor lights on, too, then proceeded to clean up the pizza and put out the fire. It took him ten minutes in the enormous kitchen, but eventually he found the door alarm. It was just a cheap hardware store model and it would have to be screwed into the door. He’d make sure she put on the ankle alarm, too. With everything secure, he climbed the stairs with a cup of tea and a Phillips screwdriver, trying to mentally block out the day.

Stopping in the hall, he noticed the lamplight poking through under Trisha’s door. She wasn’t asleep yet, or she was too scared to turn the light off. When he knocked on the door, she told him to come in.

“I’m just finishing a bath,” she called from behind the adjoined bathroom. “I’ll be right out.”

Nick’s jaw clenched. Setting the tea down on her nightstand, he went about putting the alarm on her door, focusing on that instead of images of her in the bath. Finished, he tucked the screwdriver in his back pocket.

“I was just checking on you before going to—”

The door to her private bathroom opened, a swirl of steam following. Trisha held a white terry cotton towel around her, the sweet scent of peaches lofting from her skin.

“—bed,” he finished his thought.

All that phenomenal chestnut hair was clipped at the top of her head, a few dewy tendrils escaping and curling at her nape. Damn, she had a fabulous body. Not the model-thin rails he used to date, but curves and lean muscle and edge. He was rock hard instantly.