Unearthed Read online

  Alex quickly pressed two fingers to her lips and pointed to the phone at her mouth.

  Her voice and demeanor showed signs of agitation. He wanted to get closer so he could learn the reason for both. Instinctively, he closed the door and locked it. Let the little fucker fume. Sure enough, he’d no sooner turned back to Alex when knocking on the door started. He put his mouth close to the door. “Get the hell away. I need to talk to Alex alone.” He spun and walked toward her. Damn, if she would keep him at bay.

  Alex’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

  Probably from prolonged crying. He slipped an arm around her waist.

  She gave him a weak smile before she ended the conversation and hung up the phone. With a low moan, she stepped into the circle of his waiting arms and sobbed.

  He didn’t try to stop her. Witnessing her pain made his heart ache.

  Shuddering, Alex pulled back her head and looked up. “My dear friend, Evelyn French, died this morning. That was her husband on the phone.” Sniffling, she laid a hand across her chest. “I can’t believe it. Evelyn was due to leave the hospital tomorrow.” She pressed her lips together and took a fast breath before she spoke. “Since no indication of a medical crisis that could have caused her death was found, an autopsy will be performed.”

  Beck could tell by the way Alex’s face paled that she was shaken, so he carried her to the small couch across the room and helped her sit. He sat next to her and took her hand in his. When she looked up, her face was etched in pain.

  “I feel as though I’m in a time warp or trapped inside a bad dream that won’t end.

  “Not fifteen minutes before I heard about Evelyn, I found out that Cindy, the student of mine who committed suicide, had such an overload of drugs in her system she would have died anyway of an overdose.”

  Damn. He could see Alex was near the breaking point from all the bad news she’d received lately—two recent deaths on top of the death of her child that still haunted her. Now, he had to add to her burden with his confession Ned might have gone over the edge and might do her harm. Christ. He didn’t know whether to feel guilt, frustration, or anger.

  Where would all this end? How could he convince her she shouldn’t be alone for one minute until it did?

  Chapter Eight

  “You can’t be serious,” Alex said, when Beck told her he wouldn’t leave her alone until he found his friend. They were still seated on the small couch in the cabin, her hand in his.

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “You can’t actually mean you’ll stay with me every minute of the day until you catch up with him.”

  “Every minute. Me or someone else.” He pointed a thumb toward the door. “Someone other than that snarling watchdog outside, of course.”

  She ignored the dig at Kent, but she couldn’t ignore what Beck had in mind. She slipped her hand from his and stood, still unsteady on her feet. “Are you telling me this friend of yours is so dangerous you don’t trust me out of your sight? If that’s true then why don’t you want me to call the police?”

  Beck took both her hands in his. “Because, a call to the police will ruin him for good. Right now, he has a chance to straighten out if I can talk to him. He’s not a vicious person. He just loses his cool when his back is against the wall.”

  His reason for remaining close wasn’t making too much sense. If she went home, she’d be safe. “Beck, do you think your friend possibly knows where I live?”

  “Possible, yes. Probable, no. But I’m not taking that chance.” He pointed a finger. “You go home.” He turned the finger toward his chest. “I go with you.”

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “Do I need to remind you of last night? Of how frightened you were and how glad you were that I was here?”

  She waved a hand. “That instance was different. I was stressed and tired from lack of sleep. I feel fine now. Really.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah. Like you’re not more stressed today than you were yesterday. Like I’d bet my last dime if I leave you alone tonight, tomorrow morning you’ll look as pathetic as you did yesterday morning.”

  “I have things to do.” She ticked each one off her fingertips. “I need to bring the latest find to my lab. I also have to get back to my research on the Indian legend. Evelyn’s funeral service is in three days.”

  The memory of the tragedies that had just befallen two people close to her consumed her again, and she fought to keep her emotions under control. If she started to fall apart, she’d give Beck even more reason to insist she needed looking after.

  Beck tilted his head to the side. “I promise not to get in the way.”

  The gesture reminded her of a little boy pleading with a parent to let him stay up past bedtime. She unwound her fingers from his. Touching him made getting her point across harder. Another reason not to be glued together for the next couple of days. Maybe she should just be up front and tell him how she felt.

  “Alex?”

  She turned toward the door. She had forgotten about Kent waiting outside.

  “I have to be at work by seven.”

  To anyone else he might seem calm, but she could tell from the sound of his voice, even through the closed door, he was agitated. She looked at Beck. “He works in an emergency veterinary hospital at night. He can’t be late.” Before Beck could say anything, she went to the door.

  He came up behind her, reached over her shoulder, and put the flat of his palm against the door. “Tell him I’m taking you home.”

  His tone, although whispered at her ear, held all the authority of a command. Under ordinary circumstances, she would defy the command simply because she refused to be bullied. But, admittedly, this was no ordinary situation. She gave Beck a quick nod and waited for him to move his hand before she opened the door to find Kent so close to it, he almost fell inside. “I’m sorry, Kent, but we’ll be a while yet. You should leave now so you’re not late. Beck will see that I get home.”

  “But, Alex, you—”

  “You heard the professor,” Beck snapped. “She said I’d see her home.”

  Kent opened his mouth then closed it quickly. After a couple of steps backward, he turned and ran down the steps.

  Uncomfortable with the situation she closed the door and turned to Beck. “You really were very rude.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Eyes closed, she shook her head. “What is it with you two? From the first moment you met, you’ve been at each other’s throats.”

  “Don’t know why exactly. I guess he just rubs me the wrong way.”

  She chuckled. “You’re not the only one. To be honest, few people like him. Cindy, the student who committed suicide, was an exception. For some reason, the two of them were good friends. I think she felt sorry for him.”

  He leaned forward. “Well, I don’t, and I don’t intend to feel guilty about it.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I was merely making a statement.”

  Beck shrugged and looked around the room. He pointed to the two suitcases in the hall. “Those all you have?”

  She followed his gaze. “I have a makeup bag in the bathroom.”

  “I’ll take these out to the truck while you get the bag. Then I’ll come back in and check that everything’s locked up tight.”

  After an internal scream, she pursed her lips. “You’re treating me like a child, or worse yet, like I have the IQ of a stone.”

  Another shrug. “Don’t mean to do either. But we have at least a two-hour drive. We still need to stop at my place so I can pick up clean clothes. I don’t see any sense wasting time discussing something that won’t change.”

  Getting angrier by the second, she stood and stared.

  He stared her down. “Well, are you going, or do I have to get the bag, too?”

  She blew air through her nose like a fiery dragon. At the moment, she felt like one. “I’m going. But you haven’t heard the last of this.” As she hurried down the hall, she guesse
d he was grinning behind her back. Well, just let him grin. She would have the last laugh yet. If not today, then tomorrow.

  ****

  When they pulled up to her condo Friday night, Alex relaxed. After a quick stop at his cabin, Beck insisted they go to one of the better restaurant chains for an old-fashioned hamburger. She wasn’t hungry and would have preferred they not stop.

  Crafty as he was, he probably knew once he got her inside, the smell of food would get to her. The moment they stepped into the restaurant, she was ravenous. Well she should be. She hadn’t eaten anything all day.

  After they’d both wolfed down a burger—hers just an ordinary quarter-pounder with shredded cheddar, and Beck’s a double-decker with everything but the kitchen grill—they’d settled for coffee to go and got back on the road.

  Now at last, she was home. She opened the door and turned off the alarm system. Her shoulders eased down in relief. She was safe now. Beck’s staying was even more ridiculous. For the umpteenth time, she turned to tell him so.

  But he was already at the bottom of the stairs. “How many bedrooms?” He started up without waiting for her answer.

  She followed. “Two bedrooms.”

  At the top of the stairs, he paused. “Which one is yours?”

  She pointed to the door on their right.

  Beck walked to the door across from hers, opened it, dropped his bag on the floor, and closed the door. He waited at the bottom of the stairs. “If you’ll point me to the television and be a good little hostess and fix me a glass of ice cold water, I’ll be a good little boy and stay out of your way until bedtime.”

  She pulled in a steadying breath. A few seconds later, she was calm enough to address him in a civilized manner. “Now, look here. This act has gone too far. In the first place, I don’t need you here. In the second, I don’t want you here. Thirdly, I’ll be darned if you’ll order me around like a house servant in my own home.” A bemused expression crossed Beck’s face.

  “Just out of curiosity, have you ever gotten angry enough to just let it all hang out?” His smile widened. “You know, yell like a banshee or cuss like a sailor?”

  “You mean use coarse language like you do? No. Never.”

  “Never?”

  She wasn’t about to let him draw her into an inane conversation just to throw her off track. She would stick to her guns, and eventually, he’d get the message she didn’t want him here. “Staying here is not necessary.” She gestured with her hand around the room. “I’m home and, as you can see, everything is fine.”

  “I’m not leaving, so get used to having me around.”

  “You…you…” She turned so quickly she lost her balance and steadied herself with the newel post. When she regained her footing, she rushed toward the den.

  Beck started after her.

  At the doorway, she turned, breathing so hard she feared she couldn’t speak. After a deep, measured breath that she blew out very slowly, she glared with a look she hoped dripped venom. “I have calls to make. I’d very much like some privacy.”

  For only a moment, he was speechless before he let go with a low whistle. “You may not know the dirty words, but you sure win the blue ribbon for dirty looks. I’ll be in the kitchen getting my own glass of ice water, if that’s okay.”

  “You do that.” She headed for the den without another look his way. As she entered the room, she smiled. Even small victories felt good.

  ****

  Beck had the glass of water halfway to his mouth when Alex stormed into the kitchen.

  “Would you happen to know why the towing service I called was told they weren’t needed?”

  Oh, shit. He’d not only forgotten to tell her what he’d done about her car, he’d also forgotten to call his father before they left Mississippi. He unclipped the phone from his belt and entered his old man’s number. Christ, he hoped he hadn’t waited too long. After a few seconds, the call connected. “I’ll explain in one minute,” he told Alex, thinking the fire in her eyes could melt the ice cubes in the bottom of his glass.

  She opened her mouth.

  He silenced her with a finger to his lips. The old man was already talking a blue streak, and wonder of wonders, he sounded sober. Beck’s grip tightened on the phone. The news confirmed what he’d suspected but hoped wasn’t true. He chanced a look at Alex then quickly turned his back. He wanted to finish the conversation before he told her the bad news. “Do you have enough money for a cab?” Beck asked his father. After receiving a satisfactory answer, he told the old man to take a cab to Alex’s car and drive the car back to his place.

  After he hung up, Beck hesitated a few seconds. He wished he didn’t have to tell Alex what he’d just found out. But he would. “Someone tampered with your car. Loosened some wires to the ignition. My old…my father took care of the problem and then drove home.”

  Alex’s hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened. “Someone tampered with my car?”

  A few strides later, he stood close enough to feel the fear in each breath she drew. He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms, but he didn’t. “I’m afraid so.”

  A kitchen chair was close by, and she sat on its edge. “Why would someone go to all that trouble to make certain my car wouldn’t start?”

  He wished he could tell her why. “Maybe just to annoy you.” His answer didn’t make much sense, but then nothing that happened in the past few days made much sense, either. Anyway, what was important now was he make her understand she shouldn’t be alone. Not until… “Regardless of the reason,” he added, cutting off his own disturbing thoughts, “I can’t say it surprised me a whole hell of a lot. That’s why I asked my old man to look at your car. He’s a crackerjack where cars are concerned.” Pride in his father that he hadn’t felt in years swelled his chest. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this proud of his old man.

  “That’s why you’ve been adamant about sticking so close, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t have to answer the question for her to know it was true. Only half-true really. The other half was that he wanted to be close for other reasons. For all the wrong, other reasons. She was out of the chair and at the phone before he blinked an eye.

  “I’m sorry, Beck, but I’m calling the police. I can’t handle any more of your friend’s sick jokes.”

  He cursed under his breath. “Alex, wait.”

  The doorbell rang. Turning, she rushed down the hall before he could protest.

  Alex must have known he was following, though, because she didn’t act surprised when he placed himself between her and the door. “Ask who it is first.”

  She glared. “Last time I checked, this was my home.”

  Damn stubborn woman. He stepped a few feet to the side where he’d be shielded by the door.

  She opened the door just a few inches. “Mister Millbourne.”

  Some of Beck’s tension eased. Obviously, the visitor was someone she knew. He left the shelter of the open door and moved behind Alex where he could be seen. When he saw the man outside the door, he breathed easier. The caller was in his late seventies, at least. Didn’t look like the old guy could swat a fly much less hurt a healthy female. Still…

  Alex opened the door wider. “What can I do for you, Mister Millbourne?”

  The old man looked first at Alex, then at Beck, and spoke more to him than to Alex. “A prowler was outside your condominium last night. Millie saw him, too. We called the police.”

  Alex took a step backward. “P-prowler?”

  “Don’t mean to frighten you, but he looked to be poking around your glass door in back. As soon as I saw him, I tapped on my bedroom window. Probably caught him before he could do any damage. The police checked around really good. Didn’t seem to be anything out of place.”

  Against his better judgment, Beck put his arm around Alex’s waist. No time now to worry about the havoc his touching her would play on his starving libido. She needed reassurance now. “D
id you get a good look at him?” Beck asked.

  “Couldn’t see his face. The night was too dark. But he wasn’t a big fellow. Looked not much taller than Doctor Kingsley here.” He lifted his hand to a height about an inch or so taller than Alex.

  “Are you sure?” Beck asked.

  Mister Millbourne nodded. “Well, the shadows were deep like I said, and I was two stories up. I couldn’t say positively just how tall he was, but I know for sure he wasn’t a big guy.”

  Beck let his pent-up air escape without restraint. He felt better now. Much better. But, damn it all, he shouldn’t. Fear for Alex crept over him, and instinctively, he tightened his hold on her waist.

  “Should I call the police? Did they say I should?” Alex asked her neighbor.

  Some of the fear Beck felt was reflected in her voice.

  Mister Millbourne held out a piece of paper Beck hadn’t noticed before.

  “Here’s a copy of the report with a case number you can refer to when you call.”

  Alex took the paper, looked at it briefly, then folded it, and stuck it in her pocket.

  “If there’s nothing else I can do…” The old man looked over at the house next door.

  Alex reached out and touched the old man’s hand. “I can take care of things now. Thank you very much.” They waited in the doorway until Mister Millbourne was safely inside his home.

  As soon as Alex closed the door, she slipped from Beck’s hold and ran for the portable phone on the kitchen counter.

  Beck hurried to her side and put his hand on her arm.

  Quickly, Alex twisted away and dashed out of the room, the phone clutched to her chest.

  Beck remained where he was for the next few seconds then he went after her. He had to convince her that calling the police was the wrong thing to do.

  ****

  “Get away,” Alex yelled over her shoulder when Beck followed her down the hall. “You’re not stopping me this time.” She made it inside the den, slammed the door, and locked it with barely a second to spare. Silently, she thanked her high school track coach for training that had never failed her when she needed it. Ignoring Beck’s pleas to open the door, she took the police report from her pocket and scanned it for the telephone number of the police station.