Deception

He jumped up next to her. “Are you okay? Did you lose control of the car?”

Shaking her head, she bent over and brushed the dirt and gravel from her flowery skirt. The toes of her bare feet curled into the gritty ground. “The brakes went out on me.”

The firefighters scrambled from the truck and rushed to the edge of the overlook. Then the fire captain, Dave Melendez, peeled away and approached them. He nodded at Dylan. “Hey, Chief. Miss, is that your car?”

“That was my car, or rather the rental company’s car.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. Shaken up.” She waved a hand in Dylan’s direction. “Dyl…Chief Reese came to my rescue.”

The ambulance roared into the overlook and squealed to a stop. Dylan held up both hands to slow them down. Thank God the EMTs wouldn’t be scraping anyone off those rocks down there.

Melendez asked, “Did you see what happened, Chief?”

“No, just the aftereffects. Ms. St. Regis’s car had plowed through the guardrail and was hanging halfway over the cliff with her in it.”

The captain whistled. “You’re lucky you got out of there before it went over.”

“Thanks to the chief.” Mia rubbed her arms. “He pulled me out before it went kaplooey.”

Dylan shrugged out of his windbreaker and draped it over Mia’s shoulders. His arm followed, as she swayed forward and he clamped her body to his.

An EMT, Patrick O’Shea, charged into the group. Dylan knew him, too—one of the more interesting aspects of working in a small town.

“Sit down, Ms. St. Regis. We’ll check you out.”

Mia wrinkled her nose, probably wondering how everyone in town knew her name. “I’m fine. Just a little unsteady.”

“You have an abrasion on your chin. Did the air bag deploy?”

Mia touched her fingertips to her reddened chin. “Yes.”

“You’ll probably have some bruising on your arms, too.” O’Shea jerked his thumb toward the back of the ambulance. “Have a seat and we’ll check out your vitals.”

She took a few shuffling steps away from Dylan, and he placed his hands on her shoulders to guide her to the ambulance. He exerted a little pressure to get her to sit in the back of the ambulance since she still seemed incapable of voluntary movement.

Melendez had returned from his investigation at the edge of the lookout. “They put out the fire. Not much damage from that, but the car’s pretty smashed up.”

Mia struggled against the blood pressure cuff secured around her arm. “My purse! My laptop! My…shoes.”

“Don’t worry about that now, Ms. St. Regis. We’ll salvage what we can, right, Chief?”

“But my laptop. I have…stuff on there.”

Dylan squeezed her knee. “Once they bring up the wreckage, I’ll have a few of my guys sort through it. Not sure your laptop would survive that drop and then the explosion that followed. I hope you have a backup for all those fancy designs you create.”

“Fancy…?” She settled back on the ambulance and let the EMT finish his inventory of her vitals. “Oh, you mean my work.”

What did she mean? Did she have photos of her family on there—husband, children? He’d never bothered to ask…too busy drinking in the sight of her with her gleaming chestnut hair and big brown eyes. She had the looks to be a model herself, but not the height. She barely reached his shoulder.

“Are you about finished with the patient?” Dylan wedged his boot against the tire of the ambulance. “She needs a ride home and a good, hot meal.”

O’Shea looked up from shining a light in Mia’s eyes. “Taking this chief stuff seriously, huh, Reese?”

“I run a full-service department. You ready, Mia?”

Her eyes widened, the dilated pupils making them look even darker. “You’re going to take me back to my motel?”

“Sure. I guess your exploration of the old homestead is going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

“I…I guess so.”

Dylan scratched his chin. “We’ll haul the car to Ted’s Garage. Maybe he can figure out what went wrong. The rental car company’s going to demand that anyway. They’ll probably try to put the blame on you.”

She pushed off the back of the ambulance, steadier on her feet this time. “Let ’em try. I wasn’t even speeding. I started going downhill, pumped the brakes a bit and…nada…they wouldn’t work.”

“You were going downhill?” Coming from town, he thought, she should’ve been going uphill. “I’m glad I was on the road tonight.”

“Me, too.” She dipped her head and scooted off the edge of the ambulance. “Did you call 911, too?”

“No. That call had already gone in by the time I saw your car.” He waved to the fire captain. “Hey, Dave. Do you know who made the 911 call?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to check with dispatch.” He tilted his head toward the clutch of firemen peering over the edge of the cliff, now joined by four cops in uniform—Dylan’s entire on-duty squad. “Your boys are calling in for a truck and a crane. My guys will make their way down there and try to get that hunk of junk up top.”

Mia hugged herself and hunched her shoulders. “I could’ve been part of that junk.”

“But you’re not.” Dylan snaked an arm around her again, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Her lips twitched into a smile, but her brow furrowed. “Don’t worry about dinner. All my money and credit cards are probably floating in the ocean about now.”

“No problem. You can pay me back.”

“Just like the brother I never had—but really, I’m not hungry.” She slugged him in the shoulder, and he winced—not because she packed a powerful punch, but the reference to being a brother had just cut him off at the knees.

He gave her a little shove from behind toward his squad car. “Wait for me in the car…and watch where you’re walking with those bare feet.”

After consulting with the accident scene investigators and his officers, Dylan slid into the car and eyed Mia slumped in his backseat. “You could’ve sat up front, you know, so you don’t look like a suspect.”

Sitting up, she curled her fingertips into the wire mesh that separated the front seat from the back. “Wasn’t sure I was allowed next to all those gadgets.”

“I trust you.” He wheeled his squad car to the edge of the turnout. “Where are you staying?”

“I’m at the Sea View Motel.”

As he pulled onto the highway, Dylan knitted his brows. “That’s in the other direction. What were you doing on this stretch of the highway?”

“I went to the house.”

“Columbella House?”

“Is there any other?”

“It’s dark.” He adjusted his mirror. “What did you hope to find there?”

She flopped back against the seat again. “I don’t know. Just had a burning desire to see it.”

“Are the lights on out there?”

“I had a flashlight. Of course, that’s with my purse, shoes and laptop now.”

“What did you get out of the visit? Did the ghosts of past St. Regis family members clue you in on what you should do with the house?”

“No, but whatever I do is going to be a monumental feat. The place is a mess.”

Dylan swung into the parking lot of the Sea View. He’d have expected Mia to stay at one of the more luxurious hotels in town or along the coast. The Sea View was decidedly low rent.

“Oh, crud.” Mia slapped the seat. “I don’t even have a key to get into my room.”

“Stop at the front desk. I’ll vouch for you.”

They crowded into the small office and tapped the bell on the counter. Gladys Hofstedter came out of the back, and shut the door on the TV blaring behind her. Her eyes popped when she took in the occupants at the counter. “Hello, Mia, Chief Reese.”

Looked like Mia didn’t need him to vouch for her. She and Gladys were already on a first-name basis. “Hello, Gladys.” She folded her arms on the counter. “You’re not going to believe this, but the brakes on my rental car went out, and my car went off a cliff near Coral Cove Drive.”

Gladys gasped and covered her mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Chief Reese got there just in time.” Mia patted his arm. “But all my stuff was in that car—purse, money, credit cards, room key.”

“Well, that’s not a problem, dear.” Gladys pulled open a drawer and fished out a key with a white tag on it. “You can have this one.”

Mia jiggled the key in her palm. “Thanks, Gladys, and don’t worry about the money. I’m good for it.”

Gladys’s plump cheeks turned pink. “I know you are, dear, and isn’t it nice to have another Chief Reese at the helm? He’s not back one month and he’s performing rescues.”

The skin on the back of Dylan’s neck prickled with heat. He knew taking Dad’s place in Coral Cove would come with its challenges, but he didn’t figure being treated like some kind of returning hero was one of them…especially since he was far from that.

Mia clenched the key in her fist and banged the counter. “Yep, I’m glad his tenure coincided with my visit.”

“Well, I’m going to get back to my show.” Gladys made a half turn toward the door that led to her living quarters. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”

Reaching for a small refrigerated case, Dylan said, “How about a couple of sodas?”

“You can have those on the house, Chief.” Gladys winked.

“Not allowed to take a bribe, Gladys.” Dylan shoved his hand in his pocket, drew out three crumpled bills and dropped them onto the counter. “That about do it?”

“That’s fine.” Gladys swept the money into her hand and shuffled back toward the closed door. “Have a nice evening.”

“Since you’re not hungry, how about a drink?” Dylan held out one of the bottles to Mia.

“That’ll do. Thanks.”

He gestured around the motel office. “I can’t believe every other hotel in town was booked up, what with the tourist season coming to an end.”

Mia shrugged and twisted the cap off her soda. “Almost every other hotel in town is a chain. Gladys worked for my grandparents once, and she’s trying to stay in business.”

He choked on his soda and it fizzed in his nose. Mia St. Regis had a few compassionate bones left in her body? She’d been that way as a girl, although her imperious attitude sometimes overruled her compassion. The last time he’d briefly seen her in Coral Cove, the summer her boyfriend ran off with her twin, she’d seemed…brittle. And that was even before Marissa absconded with the boyfriend.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Don’t believe everything you read about me. I thought you knew me better than that.”

He held open the door for her and inhaled her expensive perfume as she brushed past him. “I used to know you.”

“I’m the same old Mia.”

He followed the sway of her hips and the swirl of her skirt around her thighs as she strolled outside. She perched on the seawall and crossed her legs, swinging one slim stem back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm.

He straddled the wall and took another swig of soda. The sea breeze tossed Mia’s dark hair and carried a hint of jasmine from the untidy bushes that scrambled along the base of the seawall. For the first time in a long time, knots unraveled in his shoulders and his jaw didn’t ache from tension.

She pointed the neck of her bottle at the ocean, a deep, inky-blue relieved by lines of whitecaps on the horizon. “This is another reason why I wanted to stay here. Can’t beat this view, and you don’t have to share it with a patio full of drunks like you do at the ritzy places down the coast.”

“Are you going to turn Columbella House into another hotel with patios for drunks?”

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet.”

“Holt shouldn’t have written that article in the Herald about you. It got some people riled up.”

She took a sip of soda, and he tried not to fixate on the way her lips wrapped around the bottle.

“So what is it the good residents of Coral Cove want me to do with Columbella House?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Depends on who you ask. Some of the younger people and new business owners would like to see you turn the property into a resort. A lot of the older folks want to see the house restored to its former glory and the land untouched.”

“I guess nobody’s in favor of me just pushing the whole damned thing into the sea, huh?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He stretched his legs in front of him. “I could name a few people who’d like to see the place disappear.”

“And you?” She tapped his boot with her toe. “Do you have a preference?”

“It has been a magnet for crime lately, but whatever you decide is fine with me. It’s your place.”

“Not yet it isn’t.”

The loud, male voice cut through the night air. Mia scrambled to her feet, gasping.

Instinct had Dylan’s hand hovering over his holster.

The owner of the voice, an angular man of medium height, stepped into the splash of light Gladys had rigged above the path to the seawall, and Mia stiffened beside Dylan, every fiber of her body vibrating like an electric power line.

“What the hell are you doing here? Following me across the country isn’t going to change my mind.”

“Just want to make sure I get a piece of what’s rightfully mine.”

“You already got that.”

Everything in Mia’s stance and voice screamed anxiety…fear. Dylan faced the intruder, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who is this man, Mia?”

The man turned his sneering face toward Dylan. “Oh, is this the lawman you were always pining for?”

A muscle ticked in Dylan’s jaw, and he took a step forward. “Mia?”

“Th-this is my husband.”

Chapter Three

Her admission had Dylan expanding his muscles even more until she thought his shirt would rip off his back Incredible Hulk style.

“Ex-husband.”

Peter flashed his white teeth in a smile that looked more like a snarl. “Not yet, cupcake. I haven’t signed those papers.”

She squared off against him, digging her toes into the dirt, wishing she had on her high heels. “You’d better get to it then, Peter, or else you’ll wind up with nothing.”

“We’ll see about that. My attorney’s working on a big surprise for you.”

Dylan stepped in front of her, blocking her view of Peter. She’d rather stare at Dylan’s broad back than Peter’s weasel face, any day.

“Get moving.”

Mia had heard that tone from Dylan before, and it brooked no argument, but this time it carried an edge of…violence. She shivered at the distinct chill in the air.

“Wh-what are you going to arrest me for, Sheriff? I’m just enjoying the night air like you two.”

Peter had tried to keep the sneer in his voice, but he definitely must’ve felt the chill, too, his words almost ending in a plea.

“Trespassing. This is private property.”

“How do you know I didn’t just book a room here?”

“Because Mia booked all the vacant rooms for privacy.” Dylan took another step forward and placed his hand on the butt of his gun. “Get lost.”

“Ooh, what are you going to do, shoot me for trespassing?”

Something in Dylan’s face must’ve given Peter the idea he just might. He spun around on his expensive shoes and called over his shoulder, “This isn’t over, Mia.”

She poked her head around Dylan’s impressive frame and heaved a sigh when she saw the last of Peter round the corner. “Thank you.”

Then she sucked in another breath and held it as she stared at Dylan’s straight back. What would he think about her marriage, especially once he knew the reason behind it?

He turned toward her, his blue eyes dark and unreadable, his expression slightly amused. “How’d you wind up married to a tool like that?”

She coughed, her hand covering her mouth and hiding her smile. Leave it to Dylan to distill the situation to its purest form. “You don’t want to know.”

“Sure I do, but tell me in your room. It’s getting chilly out here, and you don’t even have any shoes on.” He took her arm and his touch spread warmth throughout her body.

No wonder she could never fully commit to Peter, or any man. She’d always compared the men she’d dated to Dylan Reese, and they’d always come up short.

But Dylan had changed. Would the Dylan of her childhood have accepted the news of her marriage so calmly? She hadn’t noticed one drop of judgment in his face or his voice. Growing up as the Coral Cove police chief’s son, Dylan had held himself to a higher standard than everyone else.

Not that she could ever live up to it.

She picked her way over the rocky path to the rooms, and then Dylan curled an arm around her waist and swept her off her feet. “I hope you have several pairs of shoes in your room, or you’ll need to get tougher feet.”

With Dylan’s arms around her, gathered close to his body, Mia momentarily lost her capacity for speech…for rational thought. She dropped her head to his shoulder and breathed in his masculine scent, clean and outdoorsy.

Her eyelashes fluttered against his neck and he tightened his grip. Oh, Lord, she’d missed this man. But she’d returned to Coral Cove to take care of business, not to tempt a man she’d written off as too good for her.

Nothing had changed. Now in addition to her other faults, she’d added a divorce. That made her not only unworthy of the police chief but damaged goods.

She kicked her legs as they neared her room. “I thought you knew me better than that, Dylan Reese. Where would I be without at least ten pairs of shoes?”

“Do they all have sky-high heels like that last pair? Because you looked a little overdressed for Coral Cove.”

“Then it’s a good thing I lost them.” She twirled the key chain around her finger, but he still didn’t put her on her feet, even though they now stood on smooth cement.

He snatched the key from her hand and unlocked the door. Kicking it open, he carried her across the threshold.

“I don’t think Gladys is going to appreciate you kicking her doors.”

Releasing his hold on her, he grinned. “Gladys is a romantic. She’d appreciate the circumstances.”

Romance? He’d rescued her from a car about to tumble over the side of a cliff, stood up for her against Peter and literally swept her off her feet and carried her over a threshold. Yeah, that all added up to romance…or at least several selfless gestures.

“So spill.” He parked himself in an uncomfortable-looking chair, as if preparing for an interrogation. “How’d you end up married to Peter…?”

“Casellas.” She dropped to the bed, bouncing up and down for a few seconds, wondering how much she should tell him. “You know the story about how I showed up here in Coral Cove with a boyfriend, Raoul, whom my sister promptly stole from me.”

He crossed an ankle over his knee. “Yeah. I was here for about two minutes when you arrived. Marissa was engaged to Tyler Davis at the time—Mayor Tyler Davis now, who happens to be the biggest pain in my… Go on.”

“Well, after they ran off, I hightailed it out of here, and a lot of people figured I’d had my heart broken.”

“I didn’t figure that when I heard about it.”

“No?” A warm flush crept up her throat. Did Dylan realize nobody could break her heart because she’d kept it wrapped up in gauze for him?

“You’re not the running kind and you’re not the heartbroken kind. But keep going.”

She scooped in a breath and allowed her words to tumble out as she released it. “I left because I had to find someone else to marry.”

He raised one eyebrow. He didn’t even look shocked. “Because…?”

“Because marriage was one of the terms of my…our inheritance.”

He raised the other eyebrow. “Your grandparents stuck that in there?”

“Yes.”

“And this Raoul, he was your first victim?”

She reached back, grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him. “You make me sound like a black widow.”

“If you had to get married, why the hell didn’t you…find someone more appropriate?”

Her pulse quickened. Had he been about to say why hadn’t she asked him? She’d thought about it, but she hadn’t wanted to snare him that way. “That’s what I thought I did when I returned to New York and married my friend Peter.”

“Prenup?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is that what he’s trying to weasel out of right now?”

“Right again.”

He yawned and stretched his long legs in front of him. “Peter didn’t turn out to be much of a friend, did he?”

“He’s a photographer. He’d worked on a few of my fashion shows. I knew he wanted to set up his own shop and needed the capital, so I offered him a deal and he jumped at it. We’d dated a few times, but the marriage was in name only, and when I’d satisfied the terms of my grandparents’ will and it was time to call it quits, Peter got greedy.”

“Marissa had the same requirement?”

This time the flush spread from Mia’s neck and suffused her face. “I-it was kind of a competition.”

“Let me get this straight.” He hunched forward, gripping his knees. “You and Marissa were in a race to get married to get your hands on Columbella?”

“Sort of.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s not like we were going to be cut off from our inheritance if we didn’t get married, it’s just that the first to marry got the house.”

He snorted and collapsed back in his chair. “Draconian. Is that why Marissa hooked up with that stick Tyler Davis?”

“Yep—the only reason. When I heard about their engagement, I rushed back here and, and…” She flopped back on the bed, allowing her hair to sweep across her hot face.

She heard a rustle and then the mattress dipped. Dylan’s low voice reverberated close to her ear. “Mia St. Regis, are you telling me you brought your boy toy Raoul to Coral Cove to tempt your sister away from marriage with Tyler Davis?”

“Umm, maybe.”

He hooked a finger around several strands of hair and pulled them aside like a curtain. “You’re unbelievable.”

She sat up, almost bumping her head against his chin. “I had to, Dylan. You knew Marissa. She had no feeling for the old place. If she’d have gotten her hands on it, she’d have auctioned off Columbella House to the highest bidder.”

“Instead of allowing it to fall into disrepair?”

Her face got even hotter and she dropped her chin to her chest. “I never meant for that to happen. It’s just that after everything—Marissa running off and disappearing and my hasty marriage to Peter—it turned out to be a hollow victory.”

“I could’ve told you that.”

“But you weren’t around then.” And if he had been? Would she have taken a chance and suggested marriage to her old friend? No. Dylan had too much honor for that.

She puffed out her cheeks and expelled a long sigh. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’d never do anything to compromise your standards.”

Dylan tensed and shifted away from her. “I’m not judging you, Mia. I know that house meant a lot to you at one time, and yes, Marissa would’ve sold it faster than she would’ve cheated on Tyler.”

She spread her hands. “Anyway, that’s my sordid tale. After Marissa ran off with Raoul, ending her engagement to Tyler, I rushed back to New York and made my proposal to Peter. He agreed, and the rest is history.”

“Except Peter is no longer happy with the deal he inked.”

“Exactly.”

“And your twin took off to live the good life with Raoul.”

Mia clamped her bottom lip between her teeth and stared out the hotel window into the darkness.

“Mia?” Dylan touched her hand and she jumped. “What’s wrong? Did Marissa find out you’d tricked her, and decided to hold a grudge?”

“I don’t know.” Her nose stung and she rubbed it with the back of her hand. “I haven’t heard from Marissa since she left.”

His dark brows snapped together. “She cut you out of her life completely? I know you two were never close, especially for twins, but that seems harsh.”

“Oh, she sent several postcards, but no phone calls, no emails.”

“Were the postcards nasty?”

“Not really. She never mentioned my scheme. I’ve tried searching for her online, and I hired a private investigator a few years ago. He took my money and came up empty. I’ve even tried to find Raoul, but it seems he went back to Brazil. I assumed Marissa went with him.”