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Carefully, he climbed out of bed, pausing to take a look at the woman lying in the rumpled blankets. Her eyes were closed, lashes fanning her cheeks, her breathing even and restful. He felt like he knew everything about her, yet she was still full of mystery and complexities. It was intoxicating and vaguely dangerous. There was too much going on, too many unanswered questions to start a relationship. But he didn’t care.
And Jessie Brentwood might have been pregnant at the time of her death, at the time she’d been killed.
You might have been a father if something horrible hadn’t happened to her in that maze, in front of the Madonna statue.
How his life would have changed. He wouldn’t be here at the ranch with Becca, that much was for sure. He probably would never have known how it felt to be touched by her or kissed by her. He would have been tangled with Jessie-wild, mysterious, and dangerous Jessie.
But a kid-a kid who would now be nineteen. Hard to damned believe.
Pulling on a pair of boxers and jeans, Hudson headed downstairs only to encounter Ringo, whose low growl indicated he wasn’t quite sure of both the new surroundings and the intentions of this stranger. Hudson half smiled as he made a pot of coffee. The sun was lifting higher, widening the arc of its rays, burnishing the outbuildings beyond the kitchen window. He knew Rodriguez would show up soon. Grandy’s replacement had been as reliable as promised, though Hudson would rather have his family’s longtime ranch foreman back.
It was really too early to make phone calls, but Hudson unplugged his cell phone from his charger and pushed the speed button that accessed his sister’s number. Renee didn’t pick up and he decided not to leave a third message telling her to call him. She’d sounded better. He was being over-protective. And the phone call to her soon-to-be ex, Tim Trudeau, earlier in the week, hadn’t been a wise choice, either.
Tim had acted as if he couldn’t be less interested in anything to do with Renee, saying only, “When you talk to her, tell her I’m putting the house on the market. Real estate agent’s coming by today and we’re coming up with a price. All I need is her signature.”
Oh, yeah, pal. I’ll pass that along.
Renee and Tim owned a house on the east side of the Willamette River, in an area known as Westmoreland. Hudson had steered clear of all the marital infighting that had broken out between them the last few years, but with Renee’s strange change of attitude lately, he’d felt the need for more information.
His phone buzzed in his hand and to his complete surprise he saw the call was from Renee. He clicked on. “Finally,” he greeted her, stepping onto the outside porch in order not to wake Becca. “Where have you been?”
“I told you I was going to the beach.”
“Well, what the hell are you doing there? I’ve left messages.”
“I’ve been really buried in my story.” Her voice came and went, as cell phone reception was spotty along the coast. But he could hear an element of excitement in her voice. Or was it fear?
“The Jessie story?”
“Do you ever think this is the end of the…” She disappeared for a sentence or two.
“Renee? Can you hear me?”
“…and people formed colonies along the cliffs that became towns, mostly. It’s like a history
lesson. But very weird. I’ve been interviewing…”
“Interviewing?” Hudson listened hard, but he heard only fuzz on the line. “Renee? Renee?”
“…you there?”
“Yes, yes, I’m here.”
“Remember? Jessie…all about justice?…Now I know…”
“Know what?”
“…Jessie…I’ll talk to you when I…Be there soon, okay? On my way back. If you can hear me, good-bye! Love you!”
“Renee!” Hudson heard the distinct sound of his phone disconnecting. He ended his call and made a sound of frustration. Well, at least she was coming back. He was determined to get to the bottom of what was driving her, be it a story or some inner worry or fear that she’d been reluctant to name so far.
On bare feet he climbed back up the stairs to check on Becca. He peeked into the room and saw her eyes were open. A soft, sexy smile caressed her lips and she lifted her arms to him. Thoughts of Renee drifted away and he quickly stripped naked and came to bed once more.
Renee tossed her cell phone into her purse as she drove north. The damned thing would be useless for a few more miles. There were stretches on the coast where there was poor service and then a place in the mountains where there was no connection at all. But she’d be home in a couple of hours.
Good! She’d had it with the beach. Even the tidy little hotel where she’d rented a room in Pacific Beach, ten miles north of Deception Bay, had become tiresome. She hadn’t gone back to the cabin where she’d thought she’d seen a man with dead eyes outside the window, a place where she’d “misplaced” a butcher knife. No way. She wasn’t that secure. No, she’d rented a room at the hotel ten miles away, a place she could write her story and sleep in peace.
Now she flexed her fingers on the steering wheel of her Camry, a hard smile crossing her face. She’d known something was wrong. Off. But she hadn’t known exactly what.
