Identical Threat Page 6
Desmond was dressed down in a dark blue button up, a pair of jeans that looked like they were made just for him, a black Stetson and a pair of matching cowboy boots. Dark hair was flipping out beneath the rim on his hat and blue eyes that looked a whole lot more like the sky now that she could see them in the daytime were narrowed in on the man whose name was apparently Geordi. A blond-haired woman with a long braid over her shoulder, a scar on her left cheekbone and a sleeping baby in a sling across her chest stood next to Desmond. Her expression was impassive as she too was staring holes into the man.
“Well if it isn’t the man of the hour,” Geordi said with a notable lack of enthusiasm. He looked to the woman. “And the last Nash to get her week or two of fame.”
“And if it isn’t the ambulance-chasing has-been who took a perfectly good profession and decided to turn into a stereotypical scumbag instead. What brings you to town?”
Desmond said it with a smile but there was obviously no love there. Geordi looked ten shades of angry.
“Despite what you might believe, you don’t own this town,” he spit back. “Not only can I be here but I can talk to anyone I damn well want to.”
“But does Ms. Stone want to talk to you is the question.”
“I don’t,” Riley was quick to say. “In fact, I’d like to leave now.”
Geordi let out a frustrated growl. Desmond didn’t back down. He didn’t break eye contact as he walked to the jungle gym’s stairs and held out his hand. It was a power move if Riley ever did see one.
A power move that gave her the perfect way to get out of the reporter’s vicinity.
She placed one hand inside the cowboy’s and walked down the steps, careful to keep Hartley on her hip. He’d gone quiet, no doubt watching the growing group like a tennis enthusiast at Wimbledon.
“Then why don’t you join us for coffee at Claire’s? We were heading there just now.”
Riley wasn’t about to tell him that her sister Jenna was there in a meeting already. She also wasn’t going to go to the car and leave Jenna either.
She definitely wasn’t going to stay with Geordi.
“That sounds like a plan.”
Desmond let go of her hand and, without prompting, went low and scooped up Jenna’s “survival kit” for Hartley. It was a large messenger bag with a floral print across its length.
Desmond slung it over his shoulder like a man on a mission.
Then he tipped his hat to Geordi.
“You bother her again and I’ll call the sheriff on you,” he said, all cool. “If you really believe we Nashes run this town then imagine the trouble we could cause if we really wanted to.”
* * *
DESMOND WAS SPITTING MAD.
Geordi Green was scourge of the earth, in his humble opinion. A man who could barely be called a journalist let alone a decent human.
“Geordi runs an online tabloid out of his house near here,” Madi explained when the three of them—five of them if you counted his niece, Addison, and the boy, one asleep the other watchful—were walking away from the man. “His plan of attack is to wait out the direct aftermath of when something big happens and then put a spin on it once everything has blown over. You know the ‘calm before the storm’? Declan says Geordi is the ‘crap after the storm.’”
“He’s a pot stirrer,” Desmond added.
“A big ol’ crap pot stirrer,” Madi finished.
Dark, worried eyes glanced back over their shoulder at the reporter. Desmond felt the need to defend her still pulsing through him. He slowed a beat and angled his body so he was between her and Geordi. Madi gave him a look but quickened her pace so they both were ahead of him.
Desmond realized the women hadn’t met. He swallowed his bristling and remedied that.
“This is my sister Madi Mercer and my niece, Addison,” he started. “Madi, this is Riley Stone.”
Riley couldn’t hide her look of surprise.
“You know I’m not Jenna?”
Desmond raised his eyebrow. Were they trying to switch again?
“Was I not supposed to?” Suspicion started to rise in Desmond’s chest again. He didn’t understand the Stone twins if so.
Riley shook her head. She used her free hand to point to Main Street a few yards away.
“No, I’m babysitting while Jenna is in a meeting with Claire.” She actually laughed. “I’m honestly just surprised. I can’t even count on one hand how many people can tell us apart, not even my—” The rest of the sentence died on her tongue. A look of almost panic flashed across her expression. She hurried to change whatever she was about to say. “Most people just assume whoever has Hartley is Jenna.”
Desmond didn’t see how. After he’d met the real Jenna at the hospital, he’d noticed several differences between them. The first and most noticeable being how she carried herself.
Jenna looked like she was always in a moment of exhale, weighted and mentally sagging. The entire world on her shoulders. When he found out she was a single parent, Desmond assumed that’s where the worry must have been coming from. He’d seen it on his own mother after their father had passed away, even though the children had all been grown.
Riley, on the other hand, held herself like she was in a perpetual inhale. She stood taller and at the ready. To the point of almost being defensive. He’d seen that same stance clear as day when talking to Geordi. She might have had her nephew with her, but to Desmond, he’d known which sister she was with ease.
Although, if he had been unsure, the second she looked at him, he would have known.
Desmond knew it wasn’t rational but after looking into the dark depths of Riley’s eyes in the woods, he knew them.
It was a realization that made him uncomfortable.
Not only had she lied to him, even if it had been only for two hours, with everything going on Desmond didn’t have the time to deal with anything other than Second Wind.
Especially not when people like Geordi Green were still circling.
Second Wind was about creating new beginnings for people who had survived being put through the wringer.
It was Desmond’s greatest goal in life.
He didn’t have room for anything else.
Not even a siren.
Chapter Seven
Geordi watched Desmond the Great and just another lamb who had fallen for his good-guy schtick walk away. The Nash daughter’s presence wasn’t surprising. The Nash clan had a habit of being together at almost all times. They did live together on the ranch like some weird commune.
Geordi didn’t understand or appreciate the family’s obsession with each other.
Just like he didn’t understand his client’s focus on the Stone twins.
He waited for Desmond and company to turn out of view before deciding to retreat to his car. There, he was and wasn’t surprised to see a woman wearing an honest-to-God trench coat and sunglasses. How she thought that was being inconspicuous and her platinum-dyed and straight-as-a-board, down-to-her-hips hair wasn’t an attention getter, he had no idea.
She lifted her designer frames and showed him something he assumed were smoky eyes. Geordi tried to keep up with what was “in,” considering the only way to keep the tabloid alive was to be connected with the online world.
And, when that didn’t work, take paying gigs like this one.
“That seemed to be a disaster,” she greeted, eyes roaming to the sidewalk the group had just left. “You were supposed to talk to Jenna, not scare her into the arms of Mr. Dolittle.”
Geordi felt his nostrils flare. Just as he felt the urge to strike out at the woman for talking to him like an errant child.
“It isn’t my fault the Nash family moves across this town like a plague,” he snarled out instead. “You can’t throw a rock without hitting one of them and now that they’re starting to repro
duce? Forget about having peace and quiet in this town.”
The woman didn’t seem to understand the problem. She slid her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose.
“I came to you looking for solutions, not problems,” she simply stated. “If I had known you were so hung up on pretty boy and his famjam, I would have gone to someone else. A better reporter, for starters.”
If it hadn’t been midmorning on a Saturday near a park no less, Geordi would have given the woman a piece of his mind. A very loud piece.
“I can go to her house,” he said through clenched teeth. It wasn’t like finding it would be hard. There weren’t many newcomers to Overlook. All he had to do was look at houses that had recently sold or been rented. Or just find Craig Tilly, the local Realtor, and buy him a drink.
The woman shook her head.
“The spotlight is already on the Stones. We don’t want to get caught in it. Which is why it would have been so nice if you’d convinced her to come for an interview. I guess you lack charm and skills.”
Geordi growled.
“Listen here, you little—”
The woman moved her coat. She pulled a small pistol out but didn’t aim it at him. It was meant to be seen.
It was meant to threaten.
It did.
Geordi shut up.
The woman smiled but when she spoke her words were sharp.
“You made a promise. You agreed to a deal. But, more importantly, you took my money,” she said. “Now it’s up to you to figure out how to deliver what I’ve asked for. I don’t care how you do it, just get it done or keeping that pathetic little blog up and running will be the least of your sleazy little worries. Understand?”
Every fiber of Geordi’s being was telling him to walk away. To just leave. To maybe tell the woman off but from a safer distance.
But then he remembered all of that cash.
It would solve the entirety of his problems.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” he said. “I’ll get her to talk to me.”
“And when you do?”
“I’ll make sure you’re there for it.”
The woman nodded, apparently satisfied. She turned on her heel but looked over her shoulder at him before she walked away.
“And, Mr. Green? You tell anyone about our little arrangement and I’ll burn you and your life to the ground.”
Geordi hated to admit it but he fully believed her.
* * *
SOMEHOW DESMOND’S MORNING had taken an unexpected turn.
He’d gone from giving in to his sister’s request to put down his work and join her for coffee to sitting opposite a sea of red curls. Jenna and her son, Hartley, were in their own shared mom world with Madi and Addison while Claire moved between them to customers. It left Desmond and Riley sequestered to their non-children-filled lives at the end of the table.
Desmond took a long pull from his coffee. Riley picked at the sleeve on her cup. Those eyes, dark chocolate, met his after several minutes of pretending to be in the neighboring conversation before going right back into the fray.
It felt like she was avoiding him.
Desmond didn’t like it.
“The coffee’s good here, isn’t it?”
If his brothers had been there they would have immediately gotten gruff with Desmond at his lame opener. The town of Overlook had dubbed him the charming Nash and here he was floundering about coffee.
Desmond blamed it on the sudden spike in anger he’d had at the sight of Geordi. His normal easygoing facade had taken a few hits recently and that sniveling pot stirrer had felt like a cherry on top.
He was off-balance and trying to reclaim his charisma.
But, Riley didn’t make it easy.
The woman nodded, eyes meeting and settling in his gaze. They looked far away, lost in thought. A look he was used to seeing in the mirror. Then she took in a deep breath as if to shake herself out of it.
Maybe she hadn’t been avoiding him after all.
“It is. Though, to be honest,” Desmond’s attention wobbled as she leaned in a little and lowered her voice, “I’m not a big coffee drinker—and yes, I know how insane that sounds—but that’s how it’s always been. Until now. I think there might be some kind of narcotic in here. I already want another cup and I’m not even halfway finished with this one.”
Desmond chuckled.
“Welcome to Claire’s,” he said. “I grew up on black coffee on the ranch but as soon as she opened her doors, she opened my eyes to these sugar monstrosities.” He tapped his drink. “One second my eyes are drooping, the next I’m buzzing around, ready for anything.”
“It’s more of a hit or miss for me. I’m either energized and raring to go or I’m riding a sugar high all the way to a forced nap.” Riley shrugged. “There’s no pretty in-between for me.”
Desmond saw the conversational bridge ahead unfurling. He knew what to say to get to the other side, just as he knew what to say to avoid it.
You just admitted to yourself you have no room for anything else in your life, his inner voice—angel or demon, he didn’t rightly know which was speaking—goaded. Smile, be nice, leave.
Yet—
“Have you tried any of the other local eateries?” He thumbed back toward the wall behind him. “Like the Red Oak?”
“The Red Oak?” She shook her head. “I haven’t been there.”
Desmond felt a genuine smile split his face.
“Boy, you’re missing out on that one. I spent the last few years traveling the country and still haven’t found a restaurant that does it as good as the Oak. It’s been around for almost my entire life. I swear it’s one of the best things to come out of Overlook.”
Leave it there, his inner voice warned.
But Desmond decided not to listen.
“I was actually going to go there tonight. Would you like to join me?”
One dinner wouldn’t hurt anything, Desmond reasoned. It wouldn’t mean anything. Just two friendly acquaintances sharing an old and newfound love for great food.
Right?
Then again, there was something about Riley Stone. Something that made him feel different.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all.
No sooner had Desmond’s reasoning slipped by, than it was replaced by a startling smile in answer.
“That sounds nice. Sure.”
Reasoning or not, Riley was ten kinds of beautiful, a fact he couldn’t much deny anymore.
And she was smiling right at him.
* * *
“IS THIS A DATE?”
That question had punctuated the second half of Desmond’s Saturday with annoying precision. Madi, who did not live on the ranch anymore, had come back to the Nash family ranch with stubborn persistence and there she had stayed, up until Desmond was getting into his truck.
“Is this a date?” she started, hurrying alongside him. Their mother stood on the porch—another woman who had copied the question and thrown it at Desmond at every chance she had gotten—holding Addison while Julian had agreed to man their bed-and-breakfast so Madi could keep up her verbal assaults. Apparently Desmond was known for being charming but not known for using that charm to go on dates. Not that he was counting dinner with Riley as a date, he’d decided. It was just two people who had been tangled up in each other’s lives recently sharing a friendly meal. That was it. “Because if it is, I just want to remind you of a few things before you go.”
Desmond sighed. If he wasn’t so annoyed, he would have taken pleasure in seeing his breath mist out in front of him. February had a habit of unpredictable weather. They’d gone from warm to humid to chill to now, a high chance of rain and a low of thirty-eight. He’d had to break out his leather jacket. It was thick, insulated and had once belonged to his father.
“It’s not a date,” he reminded her. “But say what you want to so you, Ma and the little one don’t freeze on my account.”
Madi dropped her grin. She got down to business.
“I was going to say if this is a date, try not to look like that.” She put her thumb between his eyebrows. It was ice-cold. He swatted her away, startled.
“Like what, Crazy Lady?”
“Like you’re not there,” she stressed. “Be present. Leave work on the way, way, way back burner and don’t worry about the construction site or reporters, Geordi Green included.” She grabbed the opening of his jacket and pulled the sides closer together, a maternal move that softened his annoyance with her. “You can help people live their lives while still living your own. Have fun. Even if this isn’t a date, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. Got it, cowboy?”
Desmond snorted.
“I got it, cowgirl. Thanks.”
Madi nodded, satisfied. She let him get into the truck before she issued one last comment.
“And Des? Ma and I have decided to not tell those other two Nashes about this nondate until tomorrow.” She smirked. “Enjoy the freedom.”
Desmond didn’t say so but he did appreciate that gesture.
Winding Road led him to the county road that took him across town to one of the more rural Overlook neighborhoods called Willows Way. Ranch-style houses were planted on large lots with at least a half acre or so between each. While there were an insane amount of trees taking over most of the town, Willows Way had very few. Some of the residents had compensated by creating massive gardens, statue scenes and one even had soccer goals planted in the yard.
Desmond hadn’t been to Willows Way in years. In fact, he hadn’t been to the opposite side of Overlook at all in some time. Actually, he hadn’t been on a social call in general in a while either.