Nash slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Damn!” How could he be so careless? He gave himself a firm shake, looked both ways, with one last glance at the two women staring from halfway down the driveway and pulled into the empty street. Phoebe Smith was a distraction he could not afford. Not now. Or ever. He’d been down that twisted path before and it only led to heartbreak.
4
When Deputy Grayson pulled out of the driveway, Phoebe’s heart clenched in her chest. He’d been the rock in her extremely turbulent day. Though he didn’t know half of what she’d gone through, and had yet to deal with, he’d seen that she got the proper clothing and shoes, met a woman who could put her up in her own apartment and he’d even doctored her cut toe.
Maybe she was putting him up on a white horse, with the halo-effect of a knight in shining armor, but she had been so grateful for the help when she’d needed it most. Unfortunately, the one person who’d helped her most would also be the one who’d ultimately arrest her and charge her with murder once his brother opened the trunk of the rental car and discovered the body of her fiancé.
What had made her run after the deputy, she didn’t know. But as he’d walked away, Phoebe couldn’t let him go without telling him what his actions meant to her. And the kiss…
It was only a kiss on the cheek. Nothing more than a woman would give a father or brother. Though the feelings she’d had when Grayson had held her in his arms were anything but sisterly.
When he’d nearly backed into the dark sedan, Phoebe stifled a scream. She let go of the breath caught in her throat when the sedan sped away and the deputy pulled out of the drive. Pressing a hand to her chest in a useless attempt to slow her thundering pulse, she sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly.
“Nash is quite the heartthrob, isn’t he?” a voice said beside her.
Phoebe turned to face Lola, shocked she’d forgotten the woman was even there. “I’m sorry?”
“Nash.” Lola nodded toward the disappearing SUV. “Deputy Grayson.” She grinned. “His first name is Nash. He’s one of the four Grayson brothers. Every last one of them is tall, dark and so handsome they’ll make your panties damp.”
Heat rose in Phoebe’s cheeks at Lola’s words, and her belly clenched. She’d met two of the four and knew at least half of the truth of what Lola was saying. “There are four of them?”
Lola nodded, her gaze also following the sheriff deputy’s vehicle. “I’d give my left breast to be twenty years younger.” She sighed. “But I always say, I might be weathered, but this old hearth still has a scorching flame burning inside.” With a shrug, she sighed. “And it doesn’t hurt to flirt.” With a wink, she turned toward the garage apartment. “If you don’t like the place, I can put you up in my spare bedroom until you find something you like better.”
“I’ll just be happy to have a roof over my head.” And as soon as she could find Rider Grayson’s auto repair shop, she’d do something about getting rid of the body in the trunk of the rental car.
Lola led the way up the stairs and unlocked the door of the garage apartment. Inside were stacks of cardboard boxes, plastic containers and strands of colored lights. “When my husband was alive, we rented out the apartment. After he passed and our tenant moved out, I didn’t want to fool with it.”
Phoebe turned to Lola, her heart constricting. “Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Lola gave her a gentle smile with her bright red lips. The brightness of her gaze dimmed a little. “It’s been five years, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. He was my everything—my soulmate. But he made me promise that if anything happened to him, I shouldn’t stop loving life and I should get on with living. Maybe find me another man to fill my days and heart.” She snorted. “I haven’t found one who gets me like George did.” She winked. “But I’m trying. I’ve had my sights set on the Grayson boys.”
Phoebe’s chest pinched and she frowned. She didn’t have any hold over Nash Grayson. But the thought of any other woman with him made her fingers curl into fists. She glanced down at her bunched hands, perplexed. She’d never felt that way about Ryan. Nor had she felt like Lola felt about her dead husband. Ryan had been a man her father and mother had chosen for her.
Being the dutiful daughter, whose peers had all landed successful matches, Phoebe had let the wave of her familial obligations sweep her along. And where had that gotten her? In a relationship she regretted and now facing a potential murder rap. She really needed to get to the auto repair shop as soon as possible.
Lola led the way into the apartment chatting all the way.
Phoebe followed, barely hearing a word the woman said until she stepped through the door.
“The nice thing about living here is that you’re only a couple blocks from the sheriff’s office and fire station.” Lola’s lips curled into a secretive smile. “And you know what that means.”
Phoebe came back to the present with a frown. “No. What does that mean?” Other than it wouldn’t take long for a deputy to get there once they found the body in the trunk of the rental car. A cool chill rippled across her skin.
“The fire fighters arrive in less than three minutes, if you have an emergency.”
“You know this because…?” Phoebe queried.
Lola glanced toward the sky. “You could say I’ve had an emergency or two.” She spun to face Phoebe. “They’re like clockwork. Three minutes on the dot.” With a quick glance around, she grimaced. “It is a mess, but the bed is somewhere in the corner and a small balcony juts off the back if you get claustrophobic. I think the former owners had the apartment made up for their grown son as a weaning off option before he got a place of his own. When it’s not full of junk, the space is kind of cozy. You have your own kitchenette and small refrigerator, if you can find them.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Phoebe tried not to think of the cobwebs hanging from the rafters. And, really, how hard could it be to knock down a few spider webs or clean up a little dust? Lots of people did it. Phoebe shivered. As the daughter of a very wealthy man, she’d never had to clean her own room. Even in college, her father had hired a maid to clean her apartment.
Straightening her shoulders, she told herself it would be an adventure, a chance to learn and grow as a person free of her parents’ expectations. She could do this.
“As for the boxes, I suppose you could move them to the garage. I’d help, but I have a ton of new inventory I’m sorting through at the shop. I need to get it on the shelves as soon as possible.”
“Oh.” Phoebe turned to Lola. “Do you need help? I can deal with this at another time.”
Lola patted Phoebe’s arm. “You need to stay here and find the bed. I’m sure that it’ll take a little time pulling off the dustcovers. Open the windows and let in some sunlight and fresh air. I’ll bring up fresh sheets before I head back to the shop.”
Lola left her standing among the stacks of boxes, all of her worldly goods crammed into a couple of plastic bags and the pathetic twenty-five dollars wadded in her jeans pocket. The task of moving, sorting and cleaning seemed overwhelming. After all the other things she’d been through that day, cleaning was a minor inconvenience. She could stand there feeling sorry for herself, or get to work and make some sense out of her life.
She changed into a slightly faded T-shirt from her bag of clothes and went to work moving boxes from the apartment down to the garage. By the time she’d made her way through fifteen of them, she was cursing her personal trainer for insisting on spin class instead of the stair climber. Her hamstrings were screaming, and her back hurt like it never hurt before. The kicker was that she considered herself in fairly good shape. If she ever went back to that gym in Fort Worth, she’d be sure to ask for a refund of her father’s money.
All the while Phoebe worked, she waited for the shoe to drop and Ryan’s body to be discovered. Every time she heard a siren, she tensed and waited for the wailing to swing her way and stop in the gravel driveway of Lola’s house.
Good to her word, Lola had delivered a set of clean sheets, towels and a couple sampler bottles of shampoo and body wash that looked like the kind hotels offered their guests. By the time the sun dropped below the horizon, Phoebe was hot, sweaty, and physically and mentally exhausted.
She had a pretty good path through to the kitchenette and could squeeze past old furniture she couldn’t lift to get to the tiny bathroom and shower. Though the window air conditioner worked, the old unit had struggled to cool the small apartment in the heat of the Texas summer afternoon.
Too tired to care how small the shower stall was, Phoebe stripped out of the dirty clothing and stepped beneath the spray, shocked by the chill of the water. Apparently, the water heater wasn’t working or hadn’t been turned on. But after a moment or two, the cold water felt great against her sweat-soaked skin.
Once she stepped out of the shower, she almost felt human. Dressed in a clean pair of jeans, a dark blouse and a pair of gently worn running shoes, she exited the apartment, so hungry she couldn’t think straight. First, she’d find food and then the auto repair shop where the rental car had been taken. If she was lucky, Rider hadn’t searched the trunk for a spare. If she was even luckier, the tire would be magically intact and inflated. She’d be able to drive the rental car away to dispose of Ryan’s body or ditch the car somewhere and walk back to her new life in Hellfire.