She’d refused to keep a key to this old farmhouse, but had agreed to a hiding place in case of an emergency. Carlotta wouldn’t mind if she let herself in to use the house phone. Since Caleb hadn’t seen fit to replace her cell, she didn’t have a choice. She’d go in, call Alec to let him know she was sorry for boosting his truck, and that she’d be back soon.
She’d hoped to be able to tell Carlotta the news about her ex-husband while she was here, but she didn’t know where she was or how long she’d be gone. She could call her, but Alec and Amanda’s numbers were the only ones she knew by heart and she wasn’t leaving that kind of message in a note on the counter.
Retrieving the key, Samantha let herself in the side door and was immediately assaulted with sticky warmth. Good lord. The temperature outside remained mild, but inside, it felt as though the house had been shut up tight for a while. By the time she’d traveled through the mudroom, past the kitchen, and into the living room, a light sheen of perspiration covered her skin.
Samantha opened the curtains to let some light in, then decided to open the windows, too. No reason she couldn’t air the room out before she left. She’d also double check the air conditioner. If something was wrong, she’d have it replaced. Texas summers could run even the sturdiest cooling units into the ground.
She tossed Alec’s keys on the coffee table and frowned, hands on her hips as she looked around. Other than the couch and coffee table, the room was bare. No pictures on the walls. No other furniture.
She hadn’t expected Carlotta to be Susie Homemaker, but this place didn’t even look occupied.
Curiosity got the best of her and she walked through the rest of the house. Each room was the same. Windows covered, minimal amounts of furniture and bare walls. Her shoes echoed through the hallway as she came to the last room, what she assumed would be the master bedroom, since there weren’t any signs of life anywhere else. Maybe Carlotta had felt safer staying in the back of the house, a place where she’d hear someone coming long before they got there. Samantha understood that.
The room was dark, so she reached in and flipped the switch. Nothing.
Great. Maybe Carlotta had an aversion to light bulbs too.
She went to the window and threw the curtains open. Dust flew and Samantha covered her nose with a cough as she moved away from the offending material.
She took a quick assessment of the room. The bed was flanked by matching nightstands, one of which supported an old-fashioned cradle telephone. A cedar chest sat at the end.
She was moving toward the door she assumed was either a closet or a bathroom when a deep, male voice startled her.
“Hello, Samantha.”
She spun and stumbled back, catching her leg on the bench at the end of the bed. She fell back, her ass hitting the floor hard. So much for the hearing-someone-before-they’re-in-your-face theory.
“Mark.” Samantha stared in disbelief at the man in the doorway, his damaged face void of expression. “What’re you doing here? Are you following me?”
“One should always keep an eye in their rear view.”
Okay, that was a little creepy. She got up and dusted off her backside. “Right. I’ll remember that. You scared the shit out of me. Jesus. What do you think you’re doing following me out here? Why’re you following me at all?”
He made a noise of disgust. “Arrogant. What makes you think I’m here for you?” His head tilted to the side as if considering his own question. “You really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you?”
Samantha took a step back at his insult. She stared at the man lounging casually in the doorway, his eyes as dark as his expression. This was not the man she knew. This man was dangerous. Scary.
Samantha’s gaze darted toward the phone as her pulse kicked up a few notches.
“Be my guest.” Mark waved his hand in challenge.
She moved slowly, not taking her eyes off him as she grabbed for the receiver and brought it to her ear. Fear knotted her stomach at the silence that greeted her.
“Line’s dead.” She suspected he’d already known.
Seemingly satisfied, he pushed from the doorway and approached her.
“You’re wise to be afraid.”
“What’s going on, Mark?” She hated that her voice shook.
“Not what you’d think.”
“You just said I should be afraid. You’ve got no plans to hurt me then? You just stop by for tea?” What was wrong with him? Mark got within arms reach of her and she jumped, rolling across the bed, trying to keep as much distance between them as she could.
He surprised her by laughing. His face softened, giving her a glimpse of the charming man she’d met over coffee so many months ago. “So feisty. It’ll be a shame to kill you. Very few people in this world can make me laugh.”