Reluctant Dad Page 4

  Dominic instantly realized where Samantha was going, what she was speculating. As he looked at the young woman on the bed, a shiver of apprehension for her rippled through him.

  “I don’t understand. Why would that make it necessary for Dominic to stay with me?” Melissa asked.

  “Because if it was not your normal routine to leave the house, then perhaps the killer was not just after Bill, but after you, as well,” Dominic said softly. He watched as Melissa’s blue eyes darkened with sudden comprehension and fear.

  “But why would anyone want to kill me?” she whispered.

  Nobody answered, but Dominic knew it was a question they would have to address in the next couple of days, or else Melissa would find herself charged with a murder he knew in his heart she couldn’t, wouldn’t commit

  Melissa stood at the window of her hospital room, awaiting Dominic’s arrival to take her home. She wasn’t particularly pleased with the idea of having Dominic in the house, but she was more fearful of the idea of being alone in the house with a killer possibly after her.

  She rubbed the back of her neck. A tension headache had taken hold from the moment Samantha had delivered her bombshell yesterday.

  Why? Why would somebody want to hurt her? Why had somebody killed Bill? She was the only one who’d had a motive for murder. Who else might have wanted Bill dead? Who else had harbored the kind of rage that it took to stab him twenty-two times? And how could the police believe her capable of such a crime?

  “Melissa?”

  She jumped at the sound of the familiar male voice and turned to see Dominic standing in the doorway. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt, and she realized he probably wasn’t any more thrilled at the idea of staying in the house with her and her newborn than she was.

  “You ready to go home?” he asked. He held himself aloof, not venturing into the room.

  She nodded. “I’m supposed to wait for a nurse to bring a wheelchair. Hospital policy.” She busied herself gathering the last of her things into an overnight tote.

  She’d been secretly somewhat hurt when he’d declined her offer to be Jamison’s godfather. She now realized it had been a ridiculous idea. Despite the fact that he’d shared the intimacy of birth with her, he was a stranger. And now, a stranger who would be living in her house.

  “Dominic?” She zipped the overnight bag, then looked at him. “I know you can’t be thrilled to be assigned the task of baby-sitting me and Jamison.”

  His lips curved up, but she could hardly consider the gesture a smile. No light brightened his eyes, no warmth emanated from him. “Samantha and Tyler think it’s necessary. They want you to be safe.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t mind.” Just then a nurse appeared at the doorway, pushing a wheelchair, and Dominic moved out of her way.

  “Here we are,” the young nurse stated cheerfully. “Transportation to the front door for mother and baby.”

  Melissa sat down in the chair, and the nurse handed her Jamison.

  “I’ll get the bag,” Dominic offered. He picked up the tote, then the group left the room.

  It took them only minutes to reach the curb outside the front entrance. Dominic left them waiting there while he went to get his car.

  “Is that your husband?” the nurse asked, her gaze admiring Dominic as he walked away from them. The sun sparkled in his dark hair, and his jeans fit tight against his long legs and slender hips.

  “No. Just a friend.” Melissa was surprised the woman hadn’t heard about the murder. She’d seen the curious looks, heard the muted whispers the few times she’d left her room. She knew she’d been the topic of conversation among the hospital staff—and half the town.

  At least in the privacy of her own home she wouldn’t be subjected to the stares, the whispers. Home. Thoughts of returning to the house filled her with anxiety.

  “Some hunk of a friend,” the young woman observed with admiration.

  Dominic pulled his car up and quickly jumped out of the driver’s seat. The nurse took the baby from Melissa, and Dominic helped her out of the chair. As she stood, Dominic’s hand rested on the small of her back, gently guiding her.

  The touch, so small, so natural, most women would scarcely notice it, filled Melissa with a rush of warmth. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been touched with such tenderness, such caring.

  She watched as the nurse buckled the baby into the infant seat in the back, then Melissa slid into the passenger seat. “Good luck,” the nurse said and waved as she closed Melissa’s car door.

  As Dominic walked around the front of the car, she watched him. Some hunk of a friend. Yes, Dominic would be considered a “hunk.” Tall, with broad shoulders and slender hips, he radiated a quiet confidence that was instantly appealing.

  His face was a study in contrasts. A sharp, angular jawline, soft full lips. A strong, straight nose and sinfully long eyelashes.

  She averted her gaze as he slid behind the wheel, immediately filling the interior of the car with the scent of minty soap and woodsy cologne.

  “Feel good to be out of there?” he asked as he pulled out onto the street.

  “Yes and no.” She smiled when he looked at her curiously. “The food was horrible, I didn’t sleep well, but thanks to Samantha, I was isolated from everything that has happened.”

  “Unfortunately, that isolation will end now.”

  “I know.” She turned and checked on Jamison, whose bright eyes seemed to be focused on the back of her seat. She leaned her head back and released a sigh. “It still feels so unreal. The murder, the police suspicions.” She once again looked back at Jamison, who’d fallen asleep. “Even his birth seems like it happened in a dense fog.”

  Dominic flashed her a tight smile. “Not to me. I can tell you honestly it was the most terrifying moment of my life.”

  She smiled warmly, remembering the gentle touch of his hand on her forehead, the encouraging words he’d whispered as she’d been engulfed in pain. “I didn’t know you were terrified. You were wonderful.”

  A deep blush stained his cheeks. “I’m just glad you and the baby are all right.”

  Melissa’s smile faded, and she studied him thoughtfully. It felt awkward to be with him. She didn’t know him at all, knew the only reason he was here with her now was because of his allegiance to Samantha and Tyler. “I didn’t kill Bill, Dominic. I need you to believe that.”

  “If I didn’t believe you, I wouldn’t be here,” he answered, not taking his eyes from the road.

  “Why do you believe me?” She wasn’t sure why his answer seemed so important to her, why she cared what this man thought of her. But she did.

  He looked at her, his gaze momentarily connecting with hers.” “I believe you for several reasons.” He returned his gaze to the front window. ”First of all, women rarely resort to stabbing as a method for murder—it’s too up close and personal. Second, at the moment there’s no motive. You and Bill were expecting a child, which implies a commitment to each other. And, if the rumor is true, you have a trust fund you’ll collect in a couple of months. That discounts a money motive.”

  She nodded.

  “Besides—” He looked at her again, and in the depths of his dark eyes she saw a whisper of warmth. “Call it intuition, gut instinct or whatever...I just believe you couldn’t possibly be capable of such a thing.”

  Melissa was overcome with emotion, and her eyes filled with grateful tears. She swallowed against them. “Too bad you aren’t the officer in charge of this case.” She shifted position. “Speaking of that, why didn’t you go back to the police force when the charges against you were dismissed?”

  He frowned and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I knew there was no point. For all intents and purposes, my career as a cop was over.” “But why? You were innocent of the charges.”

  “There are a lot of people in this town who don’t remember that. They remember the headlines that were splashed across the papers, the juicy detai
ls of a cop arrested for killing his ex-lover. I would have been a public-relations nightmare for the department.” He relaxed somewhat, his knuckles regaining color. “Anyway, it’s all in the past now. I like working for Samantha and Tyler. It suits me for now.”

  Melissa nodded and turned her gaze out the passenger window. She had a feeling Dominic’s words covered a deep well of suffering. She wondered how many friends had abandoned him, how many colleagues had turned their backs on him. She also wondered if he’d meant his words to be a warning of what she might expect.

  He didn’t have to worry about her suffering that particular fate. Bill had kept her so well secluded that she had no friends, no colleagues. Even when Samantha had returned to town after a six-year absence, Bill had made it difficult for the two sisters to maintain a close relationship.

  Dominic pulled up in front of her home where yellow crime-scene tape still clung to the front door. Melissa stared at the house. It was difficult to believe Bill wouldn’t be there, would never again walk through the garage door and into the kitchen after a day at work. He would never again bellow at her, rage at her, hurt her.

  Still, the house would never be the peaceful sanctuary she’d dreamed of when they’d bought it, now that somebody had snuck into it and brutally killed her husband. She shivered.

  “You okay?” Dominic asked as he parked the car and shut off the engine.

  “No...yes...I don’t know.” She raked a trembling hand through her hair. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come back here, maybe this was a mistake.”

  “You want me to take you to Samantha and Tyler’s?”

  She thought of the gaily decorated nursery inside. Bill had indulged her need to prepare it, but he hadn’t been a part of it. In fact, Melissa couldn’t remember her husband ever setting foot into the smallest of the three bedrooms.

  This was her home. She couldn’t allow anyone or anything to keep her away. “No, it will be fine. I need to be here. Jamison’s room is ready for him. I’ll be fine. I have to be,” she said, looking back at her precious son.

  He hesitated for a moment, as if to make sure she was certain, then he got out of the car and went around to her side.

  He opened her door, and she got out, then flipped the front seat forward and unbuckled Jamison. She held the baby out for him to take so she could grab the tote bag from the back seat.

  He hesitated, then took the baby, who stirred and yawned, his little arms stretching from the blanket. A grin filled Dominic’s face, warming the dark brown of his eyes and lighting his features attractively.

  A tug of emotion pulled at Melissa as she watched Dominic cradle her son as if the little boy was the cutest, most amazing infant he’d ever seen. It was like viewing a scene from her heart’s fantasy.

  Her mind flashed a warning. Oh, she would have to be careful or this man might crawl into her heart. And that would be the absolute worst mistake she could ever make.

  She was a grieving widow with a fatherless newborn. It was a role she had to embrace, with no space left in it for Dominic.

  She could just imagine what the police would think of her if she followed through on any sort of attraction to Dominic. Bill wasn’t even buried yet and she felt a magnetic pull toward the handsome stranger holding her son. If Detective Mawlins sensed any interest for Dominic on her part, it would add fuel to his suspicions of her.

  A tangled web seemed to be closing around her, a web of her own secrets and fears. Allowing Dominic into her heart in any way, sharing with him any of those secrets could have grave consequences, ones that just might land her in prison for the rest of her life.

  With a shiver of fear clawing at her insides, she reached for her son, needing to hold him close, afraid of what the future held.

  Chapter 4

  Dominic pulled the pieces of yellow tape from the front door and added them to the trash bag he carried. As he worked, the late-May sun warmed his back.

  He and Melissa had been inside the house only a few minutes when he’d decided to come out here, remove the tape and inspect the premises. He intended to take the job of bodyguard seriously. And from his police background, he knew the first thing he needed to do was learn the territory around the house.

  When they’d first gone inside, Melissa had directed him to carry her bag into the nursery. On one side of the room was a wooden crib, on the other side a single bed, where he supposed she intended to sleep. He wasn’t surprised that she’d steered clear of the master bedroom.

  She offered him the use of the second bedroom, a nondescript spare room with a double bed and dresser. He’d retrieved his bag from the car, placed it on the bed, then gone outside to give her some privacy and himself the chance to look around.

  He now sat beneath a large oak tree in the front yard, observing the house with a critical eye. It was so isolated, with the trees and brush providing hundreds of hiding places. A perfect place for a murder. It was easy to imagine somebody sneaking into the house, killing Bill, then sneaking back out and fading into the brush amid the dusky shadows.

  He frowned and rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Melissa he believed in her innocence. Or at least, he wanted to believe in it. Suddenly the bruises on her legs flashed into his mind, leaving a niggling, disturbing doubt. How had those injuries occurred? Again he told himself there was probably a perfectly logical, perfectly innocent explanation.

  It made no sense for Melissa to kill Bill. She’d been carrying the man’s baby. Dominic’s frown deepened. It had made no sense for him to kill Abigail, either, but that hadn’t stopped the police from arresting him, or the district attorney from pressing charges.

  Thoughts of Abigail always gave him a bad taste in his mouth. It was partially the taste of grief, a grief that had begun on the day she’d told him she intended to marry Morgan Monroe, the town’s wealthy banker.

  The taste was also the bitterness of failure, the acrid flavor of self-hatred. He should have been able to save Abigail. He’d been a cop, sworn to serve and protect, but in the end, she’d been killed while he’d lain unconscious next to her.

  He stood, irritated by his walk down memory lane—a lane that led straight to hell. The past was gone. What mattered now was seeing that Melissa and her child were kept safe, and that Bill’s real killer was caught.

  Dominic made a mental note to talk to Samantha about installing a security system. The house had too many doors and windows for any one man to watch.

  The lawn was well kept, Dominic noted as he walked around the side of the house toward the back. He stopped in his tracks, instantly spying Melissa at the very edge of the backyard.

  The area where she stood appeared more wildlife refuge than yard. A half-dozen bird feeders hung on poles of various heights. Rosebushes not yet in bloom surrounded a concrete birdbath, and the baby carrier sat on a stone bench in front of a flower bed bursting with late-spring blossoms.

  Still, it wasn’t the beauty of nature that captured Dominic’s attention, rather it was the beauty of the woman who stood at its center.

  She’d changed from the slacks and blouse she’d worn home from the hospital and instead wore a long, gauzy, pale pink dress that billowed in the warm breeze. Her hair sparkled as if infused with gold glitter. Had Dominic not known better, it would have been impossible for him to believe this slender woman had given birth only three days before.

  As she filled one of the bird feeders with seed, he could hear the melodic whisper of her voice talking to the baby. She rehung the feeder, then spun around and saw him.

  He walked toward her, not wanting her to think he’d been standing there staring at her. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?” he asked, reminding himself that she had just given birth.

  She smiled. “Dominic, I had a baby, not some dread disease. I feel fine. He was small but perfectly healthy, and as you know, the delivery was without complications.”

  “You shouldn’t have come out here alone without telling me,” he c
hided.

  The smile on her face faded, and the pink of her cheeks paled. “You’re right. That was thoughtless of me.”

  “I can see why you’d want to come out here. It’s nice,” he observed as he stopped beside the birdbath. He could smell the scent of the sweet flowers, which was much like the perfume he’d noticed her wearing earlier.

  “Yes. This is my sanctuary.”

  She bent down and pinched off several dead blossoms. He watched her curiously. “Sanctuary” implied “escape,” a “haven” or “refuge.” What would she need refuge from?

  “The moment I saw this area, I knew this was the house I wanted to buy,” she said as she smiled up at him. “The bench and the birdbath were already here. I—we added the feeders and the flowers.” Her smile faded, and she looked back down at the flower bed.

  A stab of pity flowed through him. Was she remembering the happy day she and her husband had planted the flowers? Hung the bird feeders? Had they planned to watch the flowers grow, spend their years together nurturing this place as they nurtured their marriage?

  As far as he knew, she had yet to grieve properly for all she’d lost. He imagined her grief had been postponed by the horror of discovering herself a prime suspect in her husband’s murder case. But sooner or later it would come, and by that time Dominic would be long gone from her life.

  A birdsong broke the silence between them, the cheerful tune a contrast to his thoughts. He cleared his throat and sat down on the bench next to the sleeping baby. “I think you should have a security system installed.”

  She stood and brushed her hands together to dislodge any dirt. “Okay,” she agreed readily. “Do you know a good company?”

  He nodded. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll make the arrangements tomorrow.”