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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REED CLENCHED HIS teeth together to stop himself saying the words that were rolling around on his tongue. He’d asked her to stay put, and what had she done? Calmly wandered down to the local Main Street, as if there wasn’t a crazed madman out there somewhere. Did she not realize how much danger she could potentially be in?
By the time they got back to his little flat, he’d managed to calm down. When he’d first come home to find Sierra missing, he’d been irritated. But that irritation soon turned to growing fear. What if her stalker had found her here at his place? Reed hopped back in his car and searched the surrounding streets with growing trepidation.
Then he’d spotted her, talking to some plain-looking guy on the street. Even though Sierra seemed to know the guy, and assured Reed he was all right—owned a business on the island, and all—he hadn’t liked the vibe he was getting from the man. He was shortish, stout almost, but not fat. All muscle, he obviously kept himself in shape. With that neatly trimmed beard and those heavy-rimmed glasses you could easily dismiss him. A memory tugged at his mind, of a man hailing Sierra as she drove off the ferry the other night. It looked like the same guy. He was uninteresting and plain. Yet, he was obviously captivated by Sierra. The way he looked at her, with hungry eyes. The jealous glance he’d shot at Reed when he thought he wasn’t looking. But then again, who could blame the man? Sierra was a sultry beauty, and he wouldn’t be surprised if half the male population of the island had a thing for her.
And then there’d been that guy yesterday. The ranger. There was something going on between him and Sierra, an undercurrent he hadn’t been able to decipher. The ranger had been good-looking, if you liked the surfer type. And young. Much younger than Sierra, if he wasn’t mistaken. Reed didn’t like it. He’d already asked a mate of his, a cop back in his old unit, to take a discreet look at the Ranger for him. He was way too busy here with the missing girl to be following up leads on people that looked at Sierra wrong. But that didn’t stop him calling in a favor.
“Sorry if I scared you. I should’ve left a note.” Sierra seemed to read his mind. Was it that obvious on his face?
She limped into his flat and he followed, putting the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter.
“I wanted to cook you something nice for dinner. To say thank you for all your help. That’s all.” She leaned back against the laminate, her chocolate eyes alight with contrition. The bruises on her temple and forehead had turned darker since he’d last seen her, and were now a vivid shade of purple. There were tiny lines around her mouth as she pursed her lips. She was in pain, he could tell. But it wasn’t just physical pain. There was an emotional pain there, buried deep. He’d seen flashes of it before. Perhaps now that she was vulnerable after the car crash today, it was able to manifest into something stronger he could finally discern. He went up and stood close to her, so close she couldn’t escape, the bench trapping her. Raising a finger, he traced the lines around her mouth. Her eyes widened at his touch, but she didn’t pull away.
His lips met hers gently, one hand slipping around her slim hips to pull her closer. He liked her wearing his sweater, it looked good on her, much better than it did on him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she nestled into his chest, their kiss deepening. Her lips were both soft and firm against his and she opened for him, so he could slip his tongue inside. A burst of heat charged through him like a firework going off, and his cock stirred. God, she was beautiful. And God, he wanted her. And if the urgency with which she was kissing him was anything to go by, she wanted him just as much. They could forego dinner and move onto dessert. Dessert being her. Slow down. He needed to stop thinking with his dick for a second. He broke their kiss and she stared up at him with those unfathomable eyes, her lips slightly parted and slick from kissing him.
“How about I cook dinner? You go and sit on the couch and tell me what to do. I’m pretty good at following directions.”
She looked dazed for a second, pulling herself back from the depths of the kiss. Finally, her eyes focused on him. “All right. If you think you can manage. I might go and sit down.” He could see how much it cost her to admit defeat, she was used to fending for herself. He playfully slapped her on the bottom as she made her way toward the couch. It was round and firm beneath his hand. He was starting to like the way she wore these tight leggings more and more. They afforded a great view of her pert rump, as well as allowing ample access to her curves.
He turned toward the counter, hoping to hide the growing bulge in his pants. “Fire away, what should I do first?” he asked, rummaging through the shopping bag, pulling out some kind of meat, and a couple of delicious looking cheeses, a bunch of baby carrots, some fresh beetroot, and a bottle of red wine. Reed prided himself on being able to cook healthy, wholesome meals. But this looked like it might be more gourmet than he was used to.
“Don’t look so worried,” she laughed. It’s all very easy. It’s just oven-baked veggies, grilled venison and a red wine jus. I bought a bottle, I wasn’t sure if you’d have any, being at a guesthouse, and all.” She sat in the single lounge chair so she could watch what he was doing, easing her hiking boots off and resting her socked feet on the coffee table. “You won’t need all the wine for the dish. There’s enough for a glass each if you like.”
He poured them both a glass and took hers over. Her dark eyes followed his every move as he chopped and peeled the vegetables, and then prepped the frying pan. He liked it. He liked the way she sipped her wine, savoring the taste, even while her gaze never left him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cooked for a woman. It was probably for Penny, when he’d lived back in Ballarat. Such a long time ago. This felt cozy and intimate, in his little rented flat. A kind of energy buzzed between them, a heightened awareness.
“I told you my life story the other night. Now I reckon it’s your turn. What about you? Have you ever been married?” Her eyes widened as a thought seemed to occur to her. “I never even asked, but I assume you’re not married now?”
He chuckled as she stared at him, waiting for his answer. Eventually he put her out of her misery. “No, I’m not married. Now.” He took a deep breath, the knife hovered in mid-air. He found himself blurting out the words before he had time to think. “I was married once, though. We were both really young. Bit of a shotgun wedding. Penny was pregnant.” This wasn’t something he shared with most people. But something about Sierra made him more at ease. He forced his hand down to continue chopping the veggies.
“So, the marriage didn’t work out, then? Does your child live with your ex-wife now?”
His fingers tightened on the knife handle. “No. The baby was still-born.” He wanted to say more, to make his voice light and flippant, but his traitorous throat had closed up all of a sudden.
“Oh, Jesus, Reed. I’m sorry.”
He looked up finally, wondering what he might see; scared of what he might see. Condemnation. Rejection. Pity. The bruising on her face stood out against her pale cheeks, but there were none of the emotions he feared would be there. Instead, he thought he saw…understanding. Awareness. Empathy.
He gulped in a couple of deep breaths. “It was a long time ago,” he said, in explanation.
Silence descended, as she stared at the wine sloshing lazily in her glass. But it was a familiar silence, not awkward and Reed didn’t feel the need to break it. The recipe was indeed as simple as Sierra said it would be. With the veggies in the oven he got down to making the red wine sauce—or jus, as she called it. Reed shook out his leg surreptitiously. It was aching again, and he really needed to sit down to give it a break. All this extra walking—and sometimes running—as well as standing for hours on end, was taking its toll. He should really ice it at some stage tonight, but that might not happen with Sierra staying here.
“What did Evan mean when he said they arrested someone?” Sierra asked over the rim of her wine glass.
He was glad she’d decided to change the topic. Reed raised his gaze to the ceiling. How did he put this? His gut told him this man wasn’t involved in the missing girl case, or the newly uncovered bones. But it was just a feeling, a hunch. The mainland cops were all over this guy. Interrogating him hard.
“I suppose I can tell you; it’ll probably be on tonight’s news anyway. They arrested Tom Hubbard.”
“Why? Whatever for? Tom’s a good guy. I know him. He’s in our walking group. He wouldn’t…” She trailed off, staring at him.
“They found kiddie porn on his computer. Lots of it.”
“No,” she whispered, almost to herself. A small shudder ran through her. “Shit. It goes to show how much we really don’t know people like we think we do. This is going to cause an uproar in the community.” He watched her swirl her wine, digesting the news, brow furrowed in thought. “Oh God,” she whispered. “Tom is a member of the Friends of The Glossies.”
Reed raised an eyebrow at that information.
“It means he knows about the nesting areas. How secluded they are.” Then she speared him with that investigative gaze. “What do you think? Do you think he’s involved in Jessica’s case? Or the bones we uncovered?”
