Identical Threat Page 7

  It made him weirdly antsy.

  Was he nervous?

  Why should he be?

  Desmond swore as he cut the engine in the driveway of the all brick house at 207 Willows Way.

  “Madi got to me,” he told no one.

  The home was smaller than the other houses on the road but there was a charm to it. Yet when movement from inside caught his eye, a surge of adrenaline rocketed through him. Desmond’s muscles tensed, a dull ache in his leg throbbed and he was seconds away from jumping out of the truck and running inside to rescue anyone who needed it.

  But then he felt like an idiot. It took him a few beats of being completely still to realize he had overreacted. The movement belonged to a woman peering out the window then moving and making the curtains sway.

  Maybe he was a little more on edge about this nondate—and in general—than he’d admitted.

  Desmond took one long breath and told his body to calm down.

  Sometimes life could be simple.

  There was no reason to believe anything else was going to get messy.

  When his cell phone started to ring, Desmond decided he’d listen to Madi’s advice. He’d ignore the call. Enjoy his dinner and company. He’d be present. He could call whoever it was back. No problem.

  But curiosity was a persistent creature. Once he saw the caller ID Desmond couldn’t help but click Accept.

  Why was one of the town lawyers calling him?

  He answered the phone with one hand on the door handle.

  “Desmond, here.”

  “Hey, Desmond, it’s Marty McLinnon.”

  “Hey, Marty, what can I do you for?”

  There was rustling on the other side of the phone. Marty was moving around.

  “Well, I was at home when I got an alert that the cameras at my law office across the street from your construction site were going off. Since what happened the other week I pointed one of my cameras in that direction and that’s the one that picked up something. I looked into the live feed and there sure was some movement so I drove on out here and parked in the back and—” There was movement again. The man was breathing a bit harder than normal. “Yep, there’s someone in the building. I can see them on the second floor. You got anyone that’s supposed to be up there?”

  Desmond shook his head even though the man couldn’t see him. His adrenaline spiked again. This time with a vengeance.

  “Not on a Saturday night, no.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Marty started to lower his voice. “Hey, Desmond, my husband is calling. Probably freaking out. I need to get it. Want me to call the cops after?”

  “I’ll call Declan—don’t worry. Just don’t go over there, okay? Could be some punk teens being rebellious, could be worse.”

  “I got you. I’ll stay put.”

  “Thanks, Marty.”

  The call ended. Desmond got out of the truck, phone to his ear and called Declan on reflex.

  “Marty McLinnon is across from Second Wind right now. He says there’s someone on the second floor,” he jumped in.

  Declan was quick to answer. Though there was some heat in his voice.

  “Call Caleb. I’m—I’m in a situation right now. Call me if anything else happens.”

  The phone call ended without another word.

  Desmond did as he was told.

  Caleb didn’t answer, which was unusual. When Jazz’s phone went straight to voice mail, the hair on the back of Desmond’s neck rose. Something must have been going on with the department. Something pressing.

  He hoped his family was okay.

  In the meantime, Desmond decided not to call anyone else.

  Not until he was on-site. The drive wasn’t too far from where he was now. He could join Marty and try to take a picture of the culprit, if he or she was a culprit. Plus, if Marty’s camera caught the person already, they could use that to ID them if they were gone by the time he showed up. Plus, the department wasn’t too far away from Second Wind’s construction site anyways.

  Desmond was about to run up to the Stone sisters’ door and cancel their plans when the front door opened.

  He found those dark eyes, framed by crimson fire, and knew then, with surprising ferocity, that he didn’t want to cancel at all. Not on Riley.

  Not even when his gut was twisting to get a move on and protect his baby, Second Wind.

  No. Desmond knew right at that moment that he didn’t want to leave without her.

  Chapter Eight

  What Desmond Nash would never know was just how insane the Stone household became leading up to the moment he arrived at the front door.

  “He’s here,” Jenna had yelled clear across the house. She’d had her nose basically pressed against the living-room window for twenty minutes in anticipation of the man’s arrival. Riley had been taken aback by Desmond’s casual invite to dinner; Jenna had lost her damn mind.

  “Have you seen him?” Jenna had exclaimed when they’d gotten in the car after Claire’s. “He’s not even my type and my knees went a bit gooey when he shook my hand. I mean I saw him at the hospital the other day, sure, but without the adrenaline and sisterly worry I really got to see him, you know? He’s like a cowboy and he loves his family... I mean, wow-ee!”

  Riley wasn’t going to disagree.

  “So, let me be the first to say, I totally get why you said yes,” Jenna had continued. “But, I do have to ask, is it a date?”

  That had been a question that both women had gone over the rest of the day. Riley didn’t think it was, Jenna wanted it to be. The uncertainty ate at Jenna until it had manifested in Riley mere minutes before he was supposed to arrive.

  After Jenna had heralded his arrival, chaos had consumed the house.

  “What’s he wearing?” Riley had yelled back. Jenna’s bed was covered in ten different outfits all of varying levels of heat. From completely casual jeans and a button up to a little black dress with heels that tied up and across the ankle.

  Jenna had gone silent.

  “JENNA?”

  “He’s still in the truck! I can’t see what he’s wearing!”

  Riley had felt like an idiot as she waited. Mostly because she was standing in her black bra-and-panty set staring at a pile of clothes.

  “He’s getting out,” Jenna had finally yelled.

  Riley’s muscles had tensed up. Her adrenaline had hit a high. She had waited with bated breath until...

  “Dressy casual! Outfit number three!” Footsteps had thundered down the hallway as Jenna flew into the room. She had panted while she repeated herself. “Dressy. Casual.”

  Riley had dressed faster than she ever had in her entire life. Outfit number three was a Stone sister combo. Jenna’s black skinny jeans and suede boots, Riley’s navy sheer blouse and faux leather bomber jacket.

  “Date or no date, you look hot! Now, teeth.”

  Jenna had performed the lipstick check before running behind Riley and fluffing her hair. It was down and crazy, as per usual.

  Now after opening the front door because Riley couldn’t take it anymore, Jenna crouched down behind the oak door, out of sight. She looked like a crazy person.

  “Have fun and wear protection,” she hissed.

  Riley’s cheeks turned into flames.

  There was a special kind of chaos that came with being a sister.

  “Hey there,” Riley greeted, lamely. She already felt off her game around Desmond but Jenna had really thrown her off, especially since Riley knew she was behind the door, listening. It pushed her to almost jump across the door frame, closing that same door shut as she did so.

  Desmond watched the move but didn’t offer a comment.

  Or the greeting Riley had expected.

  “Do you mind if we make a quick pit stop?”

  Riley, st
ill very much wanting to create distance between them and her eavesdropping sister, was already walking toward him.

  “That sounds fine to me!”

  Desmond was stepping fast. He paused only long enough to open the door for her. He was in his seat in record time.

  “Is something wrong?” she couldn’t help but ask. The urgency was clear, she just didn’t know what for.

  Desmond, who was absolutely owning a dark red button-down, dark jeans and a worn leather jacket that actually matched hers, made a noise in response.

  A weird noise.

  One that had her turning in her seat with her eyebrow rising high. She saw Desmond glance at her out of his periphery. He turned the engine over. His hand went to the gear shift but he stopped from putting it in Reverse.

  He sighed.

  Then there were baby blues staring at her.

  “I just got a call that someone is lurking around Second Wind’s construction site. I think it might be the person who vandalized a wall there the night of the gala. The department seems to have their hands full so I thought I’d go check it out before I call in the rest of cavalry. We can reschedule if you want. It’s really no problem.”

  Riley slapped her seat belt into the clasp with vigor.

  “Come on! Let’s go before he gets away!”

  Desmond’s eyes widened in surprise but he got to reversing without making any more fuss.

  “I didn’t know the construction site was vandalized before,” she admitted. It was a bizarre desire to want to be a part of seeing if someone was messing with Second Wind but there Riley was, feeling it.

  “Yeah, it was one of the few pieces of news the media around here didn’t find and publish. Honestly, I’m okay with that.”

  “Wait, is that the reason you were on Winding Road when Brett—well, when that happened?”

  He nodded.

  “I slipped away to check it out for myself after my brothers told me. Second Wind, it—it means a lot to me so I wanted to see it in person. I saw the wreck on my way back to the party.”

  “I’m sorry it happened, the vandalism, but I have to say I’m extremely lucky it did.” Riley lightened her tone. “Maybe count the first strike as a necessary evil so you could convert another person to your obsession with this Red Oak place? Is that an okay silver lining?”

  A small smile tugged up on the corner of Desmond’s lips.

  “I suppose so because it really is a great place. Their steak?” He brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth and kissed them dramatically. “Perfecto. Unless...” A look of acute worry immediately blanketed his expression.

  Riley realized, belatedly, she was just staring at the man like he was a riveting action movie playing on a TV.

  He didn’t seem to care when he whipped his head around to look her in the eye.

  “Unless you’re vegan? Or a vegetarian?”

  Riley laughed.

  “Neither.”

  Desmond let out an exhale of relief.

  “I mean, they have salads and other options but the steak and chicken? As Madi says sometimes when something is really good, ‘God bless.’”

  The urgency, the tension the cowboy had been carrying seemed to lessen. Riley wanted to capitalize on that. She turned her gaze out the windshield, watching the dark world around them flash by. In the woods it had been terrifying. Here, with Desmond in the truck, it was actually comforting.

  “I know everyone assumes multiples have to be close but it’s nice to see you seem to genuinely be close with your siblings,” she said. “I also have to admit, I’ve never met a set of triplets before. It’s kind of exciting.”

  Desmond let out a howl of laughter. Riley jumped in surprise. It only seemed to balloon that same laughter.

  “The other day Caleb and I talked about how wild it was to meet a set of identical twins.” He turned, pulling her attention from the road outside. “Like I told him, it’s like looking in a mirror with the two of you. What was that like growing up? We’re fraternal and Madi still felt like she had to dye her hair blond to feel like an individual.”

  It was a question Riley and Jenna had been asked a lot growing up. One, she suspected, she’d always get asked. It was also the most she thought Desmond had spoken to her in one breath.

  “We went through a phase where we tried to look different. Coincidentally it was the same time I realized that, yes, mohawks are a daring hairstyle but not everyone was meant to rock them.” Desmond snorted. They turned out of the neighborhood and bounced along an even darker road. “Other than that I can’t say we’ve ever really disliked being identical twins. Then again, I think I got incredibly lucky with who ended up being mine.” A warmth blossomed in Riley’s chest. It was followed by a low flame of anger. Old but always hot. She knew she sounded different when she continued. “Jenna is one of those people who has the rare capability to love unconditionally even when it’s not deserved. She’s good people through and through. I think that’s what’s made being her twin so easy. I don’t just like being her sister, I’m proud to be.”

  The sudden rush of enthusiasm on Desmond’s part diminished. Riley felt her cheeks heat. She’d overshared.

  “Feel free not to answer but that love that’s not deserved, does it have to do with Hartley’s father?”

  Yep. She’d overshared.

  Still, she answered. Though she did so carefully.

  “Yes. At first he seemed like the perfect guy. But then... He wasn’t.” Riley couldn’t help her hand from fisting in her lap. Guilt, heavy and hollowing pushed through the fire in her chest. “She stayed with him longer than she should have, so worried leaving would hurt Hartley. Worried that somehow it was her fault too. It took a lot for her to realize that the only good option was to go.” She unfurled her fist and took a small breath. “Then she came here, fell in love with the town and rented the first house she saw. At first I think it was a temporary plan but now I think she’s in for the long haul.”

  “Overlook can have that effect on people. How do you like it? Declan said you said you lived in Atlanta before coming here? That’s definitely a far cry from small-town Tennessee.”

  She nodded.

  “It is,” she admitted. “But it’s not bad. Just different. I used to work as an office manager for a company that was in the heart of downtown. The commute was...less than desirable. I don’t miss that.”

  “But you do miss it? The city, I mean.”

  Riley had thought about that a lot since she’d arrived with all of her belongings on Jenna’s doorstep.

  “I miss the rhythm. The hustle and bustle. Even though there were so many people doing so many things, I grew used to it. Here, well, I don’t think I’ve really left the house enough to learn the rhythm.”

  She caught the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips again.

  “You ever had a faucet with a slow leak?” he asked. “One that just goes drip...drip...drip... I’d say that’s about our speed in good ol’ Overlook.”

  Riley wanted to point out that in the short time she’d been there she’d been chased by a man into the woods with a bat and then approached by a scoundrel reporter who had done such a good job at digging, he’d hit the one deep wound she and her sister shared. Instead she laughed.

  “A leak is better than a flood, I suppose.”

  A small silence stretched between them. Riley didn’t know how to fill it. But she knew she wanted to do just that. She wanted to learn more about the man next to her.

  Sure, Desmond Nash was a good-looking guy. He was the poster boy for strapping young cowboys who could use their jawlines to slice butter. Yet, there was more to the man than looks. Tragedy had shaped him as far as Riley could surmise from the countless news stories. He’d taken that pain and made it into a tool. One that had created a foundation that was now setting up shop in the same town h
e’d experienced that tragedy.

  There was a weight to Desmond.

  Riley couldn’t explain it past that. She’d felt it looking into his eyes that night in the woods, she’d felt it seeing his anger at her lie in the hospital and she’d felt it now sitting next to him.

  Desmond Nash was a question she wanted to answer and an answer she wanted to question. All at once.

  * * *

  SECOND WIND’S CONSTRUCTION SITE was five minutes from downtown Overlook. Placed on a large lot bordered by pines, it was one of five businesses along the aptly named Business Boulevard. A back road led to the law offices across the street and the florist farther down. Desmond took it slow and with the truck’s lights off until they were parked next to Marty McLinnon’s Honda at the law offices.

  “I don’t think anyone is in there,” Riley said, face an inch from the passenger’s-side window. She unbuckled her seat belt without looking. “Do you think this Marty guy is inside of the offices?”

  Desmond undid his own seat belt. A trickle of excitement ran down his spine, spiked by the excitement he heard in her voice.

  “Let’s find out.”

  They moved from the truck to the back door of the office building. It was locked. Desmond knocked but no response. He pulled out his phone and called Marty back.

  After a moment Riley touched his arm. She turned her head toward the corner of the building.

  “Do you hear that?”

  Desmond lowered the phone. It took him a moment to hear a song playing somewhere out in the night. It was faint.

  “It sounds so far away,” Riley whispered. They followed the length of the building to the corner. Like they were in an episode of Scooby-Doo, they leaned over and peeked around the brick. It gave them a clear view of the other side of the road.

  To Second Wind.

  To where the ringing was coming from.

  Right before it stopped.

  Marty’s voice mail started to play.

  “Call back to make sure that’s his phone we’re hearing.” The excitement Desmond had heard in Riley’s voice earlier was ebbing. “You told him not to go over there, right?”