Deadly Reckoning

Kayla’s hands trembled, the tremors jarring the brush from her fingertips. It fell to the rocky ground at her feet.

As she bent to retrieve the brush, a large male hand got to it first.

Kayla screamed and jumped back, the palette filled with paints clattering to the ground. Her hip caught the leg of the easel, jolting it so hard the canvas caught the breeze and flew over the edge of the cliff to crash against the rocks below.

A man leaped forward, yanking her toward him, crushing her against his chest.

Kayla fought him, kicking him in the shins and shoving her hands against his chest.

“What the hell—”

“Let go of me! Let go!” she yelled, landing a solid kick to his ankle.

His grip loosened enough that for a moment, she thought she could back away from him. But he caught her hand, jerking hard, once again slamming her into his solid, muscular chest so hard it took her breath away. This time, before she could punch, scratch or hit him, he clamped her arms against her sides. “Will you be still? I’m not here to hurt you.”

“You could have fooled me,” she said, barely able to push the words past the fear blocking her vocal cords.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have grabbed you.”

“Huh?” Kayla finally looked up into eyes so blue they rivaled the hues of the morning sky. “You grabbed me so I wouldn’t get hurt?”

“You were about to fall over the edge of the cliff.” He spun her in his arms, still holding her close.

She faced the edge of the cliff only a foot away.

“When you jumped back, you almost backed off the edge,” he said, his breath stirring the tendrils of hair beside her ear.

Rocks slithered over the side, the larger ones pinging against others on their way down to splash into the ocean.

Kayla swallowed hard to keep the bile from rising in her throat. She gulped a lungful of air to settle her stomach. It wasn’t until she remembered to breathe that she became aware of the solid wall of muscle pressed against her back and the strong arms circling her waist, keeping her from toppling off the cliff.

“It’s a long, bumpy trip down that way.” His chest vibrated against her back, sending crazy electrical surges across her nerve endings everywhere his body touched hers, from the backs of her thighs, across her buttocks and around her waist where his arms tightened. The tingling nerves had nothing to do with fear, but something altogether different.

Kayla stiffened. “You can let me go, I’m not suicidal. I won’t throw myself over the side, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

His arms loosened slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe her. He backed away before he let go of her, giving her the space she needed to edge away from the cliff.

She turned and faced the man, her eyes narrowing. Over six feet tall, dressed in a navy-blue uniform, he sported a shiny silver badge on his chest. Broad shoulders filled his navy shirt, the lines tapering to a trim waist and hips.

Kayla inhaled and let out the breath slowly. An officer of the law. Nothing to be afraid of. Other than the way her heartbeat galloped when she stared into his light blue eyes.

Kayla had never seen eyes that blue. His sandy-blond hair ruffled in the wind, giving him a casual, open and appealing look. As if the blue eyes weren’t enough, they were accompanied by high cheekbones and a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled, which he was doing now. The effect was to take her breath away, yet again. Out of nervous habit, Kayla’s hand reached for the locket she kept hanging from a chain around her neck. Not until her hand met bare skin did she remember that the locket with the picture of her parents had been lost on the night she’d been attacked. She flinched, and pulled her hand away.

“Hi. Gabe McGregor, Cape Churn police officer.” He held out a large, callused hand.

She eased her hand out toward it.

His fingers closed around hers, engulfing them in a warm handshake. It felt good compared to the cool breeze blowing in off the water.

Too good. For two weeks now, she’d had to steel herself to keep from flinching at every man’s touch. Her therapist had said it was a perfectly normal reaction to an attack like hers, but it was still unsettling—and part of the reason why she’d chosen such an isolated place to stay. So why did she feel no urgency to get away from Officer McGregor’s touch? The lack of fear was odd … and a little disturbing.

“Kayla Davies.” She pulled her hand free of his. “Do you always sneak up on people?”

That dimple flashed and Kayla could swear his blue eyes twinkled in the morning sun. “I called out, but I guess you were caught up in what you were doing.” His smile twisted. “Sorry about the canvas.”

She shrugged. “I hadn’t actually put paint to it.” She glanced up at him, raising a hand to shield the eastern sun from her eyes. “What brings you out to the lighthouse, Officer McGregor?”

“Call me Gabe.” His smile returned briefly before it disappeared and his face grew serious. “I’m here on business.”

“Business?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He reached into his uniform pocket for a notepad and pen. “Were you anywhere near the lighthouse last night around midnight?”

Kayla looked back at the cottage, her lips curling upward on the corner. “Yes. I’m staying in the cottage beside it. I was in bed trying to sleep. Why?”

He tipped his head to the side. “I didn’t know anyone was renting it. How long have you been there?”

“I arrived around dusk last night.”

“Did you notice anyone else out here?”

“Some kids went down a trail to the beach just before dark.” She squatted to retrieve the paintbrush that had been forgotten in their earlier struggles and placed it in her work case. “I counted three girls and two boys.”

“Anyone else?”

She nodded in the direction of the cliff with the building tucked into the trees. “I thought I saw a man along the cliffs to the south. I think he was walking a dog. I was inside, looking through the window, so I can’t be certain. After the sun set, I closed the blinds on that side of the house.” She didn’t tell him why she’d closed the blinds. He didn’t have to know that the new resident of the lighthouse cottage was afraid of the dark.

“What about at midnight? Did you see or hear anything?”

“Like what?”

“Anything out of the ordinary. A car, voices, someone screaming?”

Kayla gasped. “What?” The air around her got warmer, perspiration beading on her forehead.

“Did you hear a car drive up, voices, a scream, anything?”

“Screaming?” Kayla’s hand rose to her throat where the air refused to move into her lungs. “Did something happen?”

Officer McGregor’s lips pressed into a line. “One of the girls in that group showed up this morning on the beach half a mile away. She’d been murdered.”

Chapter 3

Gabe reached out and grabbed for the woman, once again, to keep her from crashing to the ground. She sagged against him, her head lolling back, exposing her neck and the distinct yellowing of fading bruises. What the hell?

“Ms. Davies?” He shifted her, holding her in one arm while smoothing the rich, auburn hair from her eyes. The color of her hair struck a chord with him. Where had he seen dark red hair recently?

Then it dawned on him. The murder victim on the beach had dark red hair. “Ms. Davies, please wake up.” He shook her gently.