Repressed (Deadly Secrets)

  “Samantha,” he said again softly.

  She blinked rapidly. “Stupid, huh? Bet you could analyze the heck out of that one.” She pulled her hand from his and started walking again. “Where’s that darn dog? Grimly!”

  Ethan followed Sam away from the shack. He wanted to know more about the cabin and her dream but sensed this wasn’t the time. Samantha was already nervous around him. Just the fact she was opening up to him at all was a step in the right direction.

  Grimly’s incessant barking echoed through the trees.

  “I sure hope he hasn’t found a skunk again,” she said. “I’m going to kill that dog if he went after one.”

  Ethan laughed behind her and slipped his hands into his pockets, relieved she sounded normal once more. “Yeah, me too. That’d seriously ruin my appetite, and my plans to hit on you later at dinner.”

  She smiled back at him. A big, gorgeous smile. One that brought the heat right back to his belly and made him forget that cabin, the waterfall, and everything else he didn’t want to remember. “He loves to dig. The last time he disturbed a sleeping family of skunks, he reeked for a week. Trust me, it wasn’t funny.”

  Ethan caught up with her and reached for her hand again. Her fingers were warm where they slid around his. Warm and soft and perfect. And once again those tingles spread up his arm and down into his chest. “Maybe we shouldn’t chance leaving him alone. We should stay in tonight.”

  Amusement lit her eyes. “I don’t cook.”

  “That’s okay. I do.”

  He tightened his grasp on her hand, pulling her to a stop. Interest sparked in her eyes. Interest and excitement.

  “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, doc?”

  He reached for her other hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “I try to be. Wanna make out in the woods?”

  She laughed. “It’s cold out here.”

  “I know it sounds cliché, but I could warm you.”

  Her lips curved into a smile. A tempting, seductive, tantalizing smile. “I think you might be trouble, Dr. McClane.”

  When she didn’t make any move to pull away, he let go of her hands and slid his arms around her back, tugging her body against his. Her hands flattened against his chest, and her hips drew flush to his, sending all those tingles straight into his groin. “The best kind, though, right?”

  She laughed again, then drew in a breath as he lowered his head and kissed her.

  Her lips were soft and cool, her mouth hot and oh so tempting when she opened. And the moment his tongue met hers and their kiss deepened, what was left of his anxiety slipped away, leaving behind only heat and need and a burning desire to get close to this woman in any way he could.

  Grimly’s bark interrupted their kiss, and Samantha eased back and dropped her forehead to Ethan’s chest. “That dog has the absolute worst timing.”

  He did, but Ethan didn’t really care. Because just knowing she was as disappointed as him made the interruption bearable.

  “What do you say we go get him and head back?” He slid his hands to her arms, easing away just enough to look down at her glimmering eyes and cheeks flushed from their kiss. “Then maybe think about picking up where we left off.”

  “I—”

  Grimly let out a sharp yelp, and Samantha jerked and twisted in the direction of the sound. “Grimly?”

  She took off at a run and disappeared around a bend in the path, calling Grimly’s name.

  “Samantha, wait.” Ethan’s adrenaline shot up as he followed. Rounding the corner, he spotted Samantha drawing to a stop not far ahead. Past her, Grimly frantically dug and growled and whined at something he’d found in the earth.

  “Grimly,” Samantha yelled at the dog. “Stop that.”

  Grimly dropped and rolled over the dirt, then jumped up and dug again.

  “If you found something dead to roll in, you’re sleeping outside.” Sam stalked toward the dog and grasped his collar.

  “What is it?” Ethan called.

  Samantha’s feet shuffled to an abrupt stop, and her face went ashen. “Oh my God.”

  Grimly barked again and pulled at her hold.

  “Samantha?” Concern shot Ethan’s adrenaline up as he crossed the distance between them.

  And he froze himself when he spotted the human skull.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Flashlight beams dipped and bounced on the hillside behind Samantha’s house. Standing at the kitchen window with his hands in his pockets, Ethan looked out into the darkness, watching the intense streams of light darting between tree trunks.

  The kettle on the stove whistled, startling him, and he tore his gaze away from the window and the crime scene in what was basically Samantha’s backyard. Flipping off the burner, he poured boiling water over the tea bag he’d slipped into a waiting mug.

  Samantha sat in the living room, grading papers, where she’d been since they’d come back and called the police. He knew she was a mass of nerves, but she wasn’t talking. After the police had arrived, Ethan had taken them into the woods and left her in the house with a deputy. When he’d returned, he’d found the officer on the porch with his phone and her hiding in her work. She’d completely shut down, blocked Ethan and everything else out. A self-defense mechanism, he knew, but still one that worried him.

  A tap echoed at the back door. Ethan set the teapot down and pulled the door open.

  Light from the kitchen cast shadows over Will Branson’s face. Ethan’s stomach lurched at the familiar face, but he stepped to the side. “Chief Branson.”

  “Dr. McClane. Officer Travers said I might find you here.” Branson moved into the room and slipped off his cap. “Where’s Sam?”

  “Living room. Working.”

  With a nod, Branson ducked through the arched doorway and made his way down the hall. Ethan told himself to stay calm. This time it wasn’t personal. The situation had nothing to do with Thomas and the reason Ethan was in town. Lifting the steaming mug of tea, he followed Branson into the living room.

  Samantha glanced up as they both entered. Her legs were tucked under her on the recliner, papers scattered across her lap. Lowering her feet to the floor, she tossed her papers on the coffee table, slipped off her glasses, and set them on top of the stack. “Hey, Will. I didn’t expect you to come by.”

  “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine.” Samantha spared Ethan a quick smile as he set the mug on the end table beside her, then stepped back. “Peter already took our statement.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  She pushed to her feet. “Are you done up there?”

  “Almost.”

  “A little excitement in this boring town.” She brushed the curls back from her face that had slipped free of the clip at the base of her neck, a nervous move Ethan had grown used to. “Peter seemed almost giddy. Any idea who it is?”

  “We’re checking missing-persons reports from outlying areas.”

  Samantha huffed and rubbed both hands over her face. “That body’s been up there awhile.”

  “Sam—”

  “I have a degree in biochemical sciences, remember? I took anatomy in college. That amount of decay? There was basically nothing left.”

  Branson sighed. “Yeah. I remember. You’re not a forensic scientist, though, Sam. Leave it up to the experts. It’s probably a vagrant, someone passing through who got lost in those woods years ago. Nothing more than that. You know how people get turned around up there.”

  She folded her arms in front of her and rubbed her biceps, as if she were cold. “There’s only one missing person I can think of from around here.”

  “It’s not her.”

  “Would fit the time frame, though,” Sam said quietly.

  Ethan glanced between the two. He didn’t miss the tension radiating from Branson. Or the nerves vibrating in Samantha. “Who are you both talking about?”

  “A teacher.” Samantha glanced his way. “She taught science at the hi
gh school. Went missing, what, eighteen years ago, Will?”

  Branson rolled one large shoulder. “Yeah. Something like that. It’s not her, though, Sam. She left Hidden Falls.”

  “Not everyone thinks that. From what I remember, her sister said she never showed up in Seattle after she left here.”

  “Trust me. It’s not her.” Branson slipped his cap back on. “You sure you’re going to be okay here alone tonight?”

  “I’m fine.” Samantha tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “Thanks for checking on me.”

  “Sure thing.” Branson slanted a disapproving look Ethan’s direction. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  Branson’s footsteps echoed down the hall. When the back door opened then clicked shut, Ethan crossed to Samantha and ran his hands down her arms. “You okay?”

  “Hmm? I’m fine.” Stepping back out of his reach, she moved to the coffee table where she bent and straightened her papers. “I don’t know why the two of you think I’m not. It’s no biggie.” A frown tugged at her mouth. “I mean, it is a biggie. But nothing that directly affects me, so I’m fine.”

  She was lying. Ethan could see it in her eyes, in the way she had to keep her hands busy and couldn’t seem to hold still. Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and take away that haunted look she’d been sporting since they’d returned from their hike. Part of him wanted to run. Finding a dead body in that forest was too coincidental for his taste, and a thousand memories he didn’t want to remember were running through his head.

  “You don’t have to stay, Ethan.”

  “We didn’t have dinner yet.”

  “It’s all right. I’m not that hungry now, and something tells me you aren’t either. I really need to finish grading these papers, then I think I’m just going to head to bed. It’s been a long evening.”

  He nodded. She wasn’t going to let him in, confess what was really bothering her. And he didn’t want to push at this point. He wanted her to open up when she was ready, and if he started prodding too soon, she’d never get there. Plus, she was right. It had been a long evening. And he needed some time alone to process what they’d found. “Okay. I should probably go, then.”

  He lifted the jacket he’d draped over the back of the couch and pulled it on. “I’ll be at the hotel if you need anything.”

  He made it as far as the front door before she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry this ended up being such a bust. I . . . I wanted to call you over the weekend, I just . . . I chickened out.”

  He ran his thumb over her smooth cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin. “I get it. And what happened tonight is not your fault.”

  She glanced down at their feet. “Finding a body kind of put a damper on the whole go-back-to-my-house-and-make-out thing.”

  He smirked. “Kinda.”

  She bit her lip and looked up, wariness darkening her eyes. “I have a favor to ask. I have this . . . event . . . that I have to go to Friday night. A friend is running for political office, and he and his wife are having a little get-together. It’s nothing fancy, and normally I’d find a way to blow it off, but I’m kind of stuck here. You’re under no obligation, but I just thought . . . if you were free . . . that maybe you could save me from having to go alone?”

  She really was adorable. She might not want his company tonight, but she wanted to see him again. And just knowing that made his heart skip a beat. “Friday, huh?”

  “Yeah. We wouldn’t have to stay long, and maybe we could try dinner after again.”

  “What time?”

  She exhaled what sounded like a relieved breath. “Seven.”

  His blood warmed, and even though he wanted so much more, tonight he satisfied himself with a kiss on her forehead. “Okay. It’s a date.” He drew back and smiled down at her. “Be sure to lock up after me.”

  She gripped the door handle and pulled the door open for him. “I will. Thanks, Ethan. For everything.”

  He headed out to his car. But as the cool night air surrounded him, he knew he didn’t want her thanks. He wanted a whole lot more. And considering everything he’d learned and found tonight, he wasn’t sure how that would play out.

  Sam watched the headlights from Ethan’s car as he backed out of her driveway and disappeared around the bend. Closing the door, she dropped her head against the hard wood and drew in a shaky breath.

  She’d been lying through her pearly whites. Fine. She wasn’t fine, and if she said that one more time, she was going to seriously lose her slight grasp on reality. It amazed her that Ethan couldn’t see through her veiled insecurities. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. If he knew what a mess she was inside, he’d run for the hills.

  She turned, braced her back against the door, and surveyed the entry of the old house. Scarred pine floors flowed down the narrow hall. The stairs swept up and to the right. Her mother’s antique secretary sat against the stairwell wall, cradling bills and notes and to-do lists she didn’t have time to get to. She didn’t feel any emotional connection to the house or the things inside it. Didn’t want to do anything but dump it and run. To her, it was a vast cavern of nothingness, much like her life.

  Sam closed her eyes. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. The house was too big, her mind too full of images and memories she didn’t want to relive. But she couldn’t really ask Ethan to stay. She didn’t want to take advantage of him. And she knew she would have done exactly that if he’d stayed.

  She probably shouldn’t have invited him to Jeff and Margaret’s party, but she’d wanted to do something to make up for this mess of a night. And taking him to the party would do that. They would be surrounded by people there. The setting wouldn’t be intimate at all. They could mingle and have a few drinks, then she could take him to dinner in town—somewhere loud and busy. They could grab a bite to eat, and she could apologize for tonight. Then she could let him slip out of her life without another thought. Because, deep down, she knew she was not relationship material. After tonight, he had to realize that as well. From the way he’d kissed her forehead instead of her lips when he’d left, she sensed he already did.

  A whisper of sadness rushed through her, but she knew it was for the best. Her life was nothing like his. He had a family, people who cared about him, and she was a loner. Plus, as soon as this house sold, she was heading back to California. There was no logical reason to start anything with anyone now.

  Pushing away from the door, she made her way into the kitchen. After checking the locks, she left the kitchen light burning and climbed the rickety steps to her bedroom. She had to pick her way around boxes in the upstairs hall, reminding herself she still had a ton of packing and cleaning to do in the old house. That—if nothing else—would keep her busy this weekend and prevent her from thinking too much about Ethan.

  She slipped into her favorite faded blue flannel pajamas, the ones with the little clouds all over them, and brushed her teeth. Making sure to leave the bathroom light on, she climbed into bed and pulled the plush comforter up around her neck. Then stared at the ceiling and prayed she wouldn’t sleep.

  Because as soon as she closed her eyes, she knew what she would see and hear. That weather-beaten cabin. The cold, eerie light shining through the windows. The blood-curdling cry for help that always paralyzed her. And, thanks to what they’d found tonight, the bones Grimly had uncovered in those woods.

  Her mind would replay the dream, meshing the two together until she didn’t know the difference. And, just like every other night, she’d once again be trapped in a nightmare of her own making.

  Margaret took a long drag from her cigarette Friday night as Kenny continued to bitch into the phone pressed to her ear.

  “This is all we freakin’ need,” he whined.

  Margaret glanced toward the open door of her master bathroom. Dim voices echoed from the first floor where the party was already underway, and she hesitated to see if anyone was listening, but no sound came from her
bedroom or the hallway.

  “Relax, Kenny.” She tapped her cigarette against the ashtray on her vanity. “You’re making this bigger than it is. It’s being handled.”

  “Bigger than it is?” Kenny’s voice rose an octave. “That’s a fucking dead body they pulled out of the woods! Don’t tell me you aren’t worried.”

  Margaret took another drag. Of course she was worried, but she wasn’t about to let Kenny know that. “No. I’m not. As I said, it’s being handled.”

  “By who?”

  “Whom.”

  “What?”

  “The proper grammatical pronunciation is, ‘by whom.’ And you don’t need to know the answer to that question.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath. “Do you have any idea what could happen?”

  “What’s going to happen, Kenneth?”

  “I don’t know, but something bad. Samantha Parker found that body.”

  “And?”

  “And? What if she was there—?”

  He was getting worked up. Kenneth Saunders was only an asset so long as he didn’t lose his shit. “She wasn’t there that night, Kenny. End of story.”

  “But—”

  Margaret was seriously losing her patience. She had guests waiting downstairs. He knew that. “It’s been eighteen years. Don’t you think Sam would have mentioned something about it by now if she had been there? Use your brain, Kenny. No one knows anything about what happened, and it’s going to stay that way. Unless, of course, you start flipping out, in which case, people will take notice. And if that happens, I guarantee I won’t let you drag me down with you.”

  Kenny grew quiet on the other end of the line.

  There. That ought to shut him up for good.

  Shuffling echoed from the doorway, and Margaret glanced in that direction, then sucked in a breath. He stood in the shadows of her bedroom. She couldn’t see his face but instantly knew who he was. The same man she’d been waiting for. Her gaze slid across a hard chest and chiseled abs covered by a pressed white dress shirt, over slim hips encased in spendy black slacks, then finally down thick, powerful legs that knew just how to take control.