The Deputy's Proof Page 7

  “Maybe you just gave me a second suspect to add to the short list,” Josh said.

  “I don’t know. He’s a creep but I can’t imagine him going to such a length as attacking me to get me to move out.”

  By that time they’d reached her house. She pulled a small key ring from her back pocket and unlocked her front door, then turned back to face him. “Thanks for the company. Now go home and go to bed.”

  “You’d better do the same. You have a night shift to work tonight, too.”

  “True, but I can doze on my night shift. You have to be alert and ready to fight crime at any moment.”

  “If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you Thursday night at my place for dinner. Around six thirty?”

  She hesitated, and he sensed she was about to cancel on him. He didn’t want that to happen. He knew that she was forever changed by the murder of her sister and the basic destruction of her family, but he also knew she dwelt in a dark place that had become far too comfortable for her.

  “I’ve already bought the best steaks in town and can’t wait to get your opinion on my special seasoning,” he said hurriedly.

  She nodded, albeit with obvious reluctance. “Then I’ll see you Thursday night.”

  “Great,” he replied.

  Minutes later as he headed toward home, pleasure filled him at the anticipation of Thursday night, but it was tempered by concern about the attack on her.

  Did Eric entertain some kind of sick obsession with Shelly that had now transferred to Savannah? Had he been the one who had attacked her? Or were there really other people using the tunnels? And for what purpose?

  Was it possible that something evil was going on beneath the streets of Lost Lagoon?

  Chapter Six

  Josh felt as if he were preparing for the first date he’d ever had in his life. He awoke about noon and laid out the frozen steaks to thaw, then immediately set to cleaning the house as if a dignitary was coming to visit.

  A nervous energy filled him, definitely because he would be spending time alone with Savannah. They wouldn’t be traipsing through tunnels or talking to local officials. It would just be the two of them over dinner.

  He desperately wanted the night to go well. He wanted the conversation to flow light and easy and for her to feel comfortable in his presence.

  They would be eating in his kitchen rather than the formal dining room, which had become his home office. The top of the fine mahogany dining room table was currently covered with a large piece of poster board on which he’d been attempting to map the tunnels.

  The kitchen was cozier anyway, he told himself. The round oak table would be conducive to a more intimate setting.

  He was in the process of wrapping potatoes in aluminum foil to go into the oven when Daniel Carson opened his back door and walked in. “Don’t you look domestic,” he said in amusement. “All you’re missing is a frilly apron.”

  “Just making sure I have everything under control,” Josh replied. He gestured his fellow deputy and friend to a chair at the table. “Want something to drink?”

  “I wouldn’t turn down a cold beer,” Daniel replied.

  Josh snagged two bottles from the fridge and then sat across from Daniel. “So, what’s the news of the day?”

  “I had breakfast at the café this morning and heard that May Johnson’s son is in the hospital from a dope overdose. It was apparently meth.”

  Josh raised a brow. “We don’t get much of that around here. How’s he doing?”

  “He’ll survive. How goes the underworld?”

  “I’m not sure I understand why Jim decided to change courses and start in the tunnels closest to the swamp rather than those closest to Savannah’s backyard, but we’ve been down there three times in the last week and have managed to map out a single branch with several forks.”

  “Anything exciting found?” Daniel asked and then took a swig of his beer.

  “Dirt and more dirt. No gold coins, no rubies or diamonds or pirate treasure, just dirt and a couple of exits.”

  “Exits where?”

  “One came up in the floor of one of the abandoned shanties on the swamp side of town, and another one opened up in a pile of brush just outside of town.” Josh paused to sip his beer. “We haven’t found any sign that those tunnels have been used in recent times.”

  “Shouldn’t they call in some kind of expert for this?” Daniel asked.

  “I imagine Mayor Burns eventually will, but I swear right now he’s like a kid with a new adventure to explore. He doesn’t seem inclined to share the information about the tunnels just yet.”

  “It is pretty amazing that they’ve been there all this time and nobody ever knew,” Daniel replied. He leaned back in his chair and looked around the kitchen, then focused his attention back on Josh.

  “You realize a steak dinner isn’t going to make you feel less guilty about what happened two years ago,” he said.

  “That’s not what tonight is about,” Josh protested. “She fed me a gourmet meal last week, and so I’m just returning the favor.”

  “You know I feel guilty, too, about how the investigation into Shelly Sinclair’s death went down, but we both knew we’d be risking our jobs if we tried to buck Trey’s assessment of the murder. If we’d done anything differently we would have been fired and nothing would have been different anyway.”

  “I just wonder how different Savannah’s life might have been for the last two years if we’d gotten the job done right,” Josh admitted.

  “I don’t want you going all savior on me and trying to save Savannah from herself and in the meantime getting hurt.”

  “I just think she needs a friend right now.”

  “Yeah, but the real question is, does she want a friend right now?” Daniel countered.

  The question hung in Josh’s mind long after Daniel had left. Was he trying to assuage his guilt by attempting to build a relationship with Savannah? Or was he simply on a misguided quest to find the woman who had once made his heart beat just a little bit faster, a woman he’d wanted to pursue before tragedy struck?

  It didn’t matter that he wasn’t sure of the answer. All he knew was that he was looking forward to the evening. By the time six twenty had arrived, he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a button-up short-sleeved blue-and-silver-striped shirt.

  The table was set. The potatoes were cooking. The steaks were seasoned, and a fresh salad was in the fridge. The only thing missing was his date, and she should be arriving within the next fifteen minutes.

  He had called her last night to confirm tonight but had gotten the impression that if there had been a graceful way for her to back out, she would have taken it. But he hadn’t given her a chance.

  He’d tucked in his shirt twice and opened a bottle of wine when the doorbell rang. He hurried to answer, and when he opened his door, he nearly lost his breath to the beauty of the woman before him.

  Clad in a peach-colored sundress that displayed her beautiful shoulders, her small waistline and the length of her legs, she looked gorgeous.

  It was obvious she’d taken extra time and trouble with her appearance. Her lashes looked longer and darker, a faint blush colored her cheeks and her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. The only things missing were a smile and a light of anything in her eyes.

  “Are you going to invite me in?” she finally asked.

  “Oh yeah, of course.” He opened the door farther to allow her entry into his hallway. As she passed him, he smelled the floral scent that stirred him on every level.

  “Your home is beautiful,” she said as she entered the living room. It was furnished with modern but comfortable black-and-white furniture and glass-topped end and coffee tables.

  “Let me give you the full tour,” he said. She followed him down the hallway, where he showed her the two guest bedrooms, a guest bath and then the master suite complete with the bathroom with the oversized tub. He knew his pride was obvious, but he couldn’t help
it.

  “You have wonderful taste,” she said.

  “You might change your mind when you see the formal dining room.” He led her into the room filled with a desk, computer equipment, file cabinets and the table covered with the poster board of the mapped tunnels.

  “You’re mapping the tunnels,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “I’m doing the best I can with the information Trey gives to me. As you can see by the new red and green lines, they’ve fully explored two more tunnels in the last couple of days, although nothing extraordinary has been found. But we’re not talking about that tonight.” He gestured her to follow him into the kitchen.

  She gasped in surprise as she saw the built-in double oven and an upscale microwave and convection oven. “Do you do a lot of cooking?” she asked as he gestured her to a chair at the table.

  “Nah, I occasionally use one of the ovens, but the microwave and my barbecue pit are my real friends. The brick pit on the back patio even has a place for pizza baking. Wine?”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Why would you go to the expense to put in such a kitchen when you don’t cook?”

  “Resale value,” he replied. He set a crystal stem of red wine next to the red-and-black dishware that adorned the table. “I think my builder probably took advantage of me in adding all this stuff, especially since I have no desire to sell or move anywhere else.”

  “It’s a dream kitchen,” she replied, and for the first time since she’d arrived, her eyes lit with pleasure. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked when he took a salad from the refrigerator and placed it in the center of the table.

  “Just tell me how you like your steak. Mooing, medium or well-done?”

  She laughed. It was a brief noise like a wind chime musically dancing with a sudden breeze. It lasted only a mere second and appeared to surprise her as much as it pleased him.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve never heard rare described as ‘mooing’ before,” she said.

  “Don’t apologize for laughing, Savannah. If I had the ability, I’d make you laugh as often as possible.”

  Her eyes went dark. “Medium rare, that’s how I like my steak.” She focused on her wine and took a sip.

  He’d stepped over the line. He picked up the plate with the seasoned steaks. “I’m going to throw these on the grill. I’ll be right back.” He stepped out the back door, where the elaborate brick grill was hot and ready to cook the meat.

  He placed the steaks on the grill and then went back inside. “I’ll need to go back out and turn them in just a few minutes.”

  “Tell me about the special steak rub you use,” she said.

  “Ah, it’s an old family secret,” he replied as he leaned a hip against the counter.

  “But you’re going to share that secret with me,” she said with a small curve of her lips.

  Hell, if he were a CIA agent, he’d spill every secret he knew for one of her rare, beautiful smiles. “I suppose I am. It’s a little bit of molasses, a little bit of bacon and a pinch of cayenne pepper.”

  “Hmm, sweet with a little kick.”

  He grinned at her. “Reminds me of somebody I know.”

  That earned him a genuine smile. “I don’t know how sweet I am, but I definitely have a kick.”

  All too quickly the steaks were done and the meal was on the table. The conversation revolved around cooking as she shared some of her favorite recipes and he told her about his botched attempts to do any real cooking.

  Those stories made her laugh several times. It was sweet music to his ears and confirmed to him that someplace inside the shell she presented to the world was a vibrant young woman who deserved a better life than the one she’d committed herself to.

  “Let me help with the cleanup,” she said when they finished the meal.

  “Nonsense, I have all night to take care of it. How about we take a glass of wine into the living room and talk a little bit more?”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  He’d noticed her relaxing as the night had progressed, and the fact that she agreed to stay for another glass of wine and a little conversation pleased him.

  He carried their wineglasses and followed her into the living room. Instead of sitting on the sofa, she walked over to the bookcase that held keepsakes and photos.

  “These are your parents?” she asked and pointed to one of the framed pictures.

  “Yeah, those are my folks. They live in Georgia.”

  “Are you close to them?”

  “As close as I can be living this far away,” he replied. “I talk to them about twice a week. They come and visit on their anniversary, and I always go home for Christmas.”

  She pointed to another photo and looked at him in surprise. “Is that you? And do you have a twin brother?”

  “Yes, and I did have a twin brother. He died in a car accident when we were fifteen.”

  She picked up the photo and sank down on the sofa, and he noticed that her hands trembled slightly. She looked up at him, and her eyes were shiny with tears. “How did you manage to survive?”

  He sat next to her. “I took his death hard, but I knew I had to go on if for no other reason than to honor him in my heart. That sports car I have is a car Jacob and I dreamed of owning when we were young. We both wanted to be cops when we grew up, and so here I am wearing a deputy’s star. I survived, Savannah, and I went on to live my life because it was the only thing I knew how to do.”

  * * *

  THE KNOWLEDGE THAT he’d lost a twin brother nearly stole her breath away. For just a moment she forgot about her own losses. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him for the tragedy in his own life.

  “I’m so sorry.” She didn’t even realize she’d slipped her hand into his until she felt the warmth of his wrapping around hers.

  “Thanks. It was a long time ago. Sometimes bad things happen to good people, but you already know that.”

  She set the picture on the coffee table. “Tell me about him.”

  He smiled. “Jacob was two minutes older than me, and he never let me forget it. He was definitely the dominant twin. I was a bit shyer, and I idolized him.” His smile drifted away.

  “That’s the way it was between me and Shelly,” she replied. “She was only a year older than me, but she was more social and outgoing than me. I idolized her, too. But I was always Shelly’s little sister to most of the people in town.”

  “Just like for the first fifteen years of my life I was Jacob’s twin. It took me a while to figure out who I was without him.”

  She stood and took the picture and returned it to where it belonged. When she returned to the sofa, she took a sip of her wine and eyed him over the rim of the glass. “How did you do it, Josh?” she asked when she’d lowered the glass.

  “I just figured the best way to honor Jacob was to live well. I had to find out who I was alone, and that meant just moving forward.”

  “I should get home,” she said abruptly. The night had been too pleasant, his company both relaxing and exciting. Now knowing they shared common tragedies only pulled her emotionally closer to him, and she needed to get away from him.

  “It’s still early,” he protested. “At least finish your wine.”

  She shook her head, stood and grabbed her purse next to her. “Thanks, but I’ve had enough wine.” He jumped up off the sofa, and she headed for the front door. She turned back to him. “Thank you for a lovely meal, and I think that makes us even where dinner is concerned.”

  He stepped closer to her, and her heart jumped up in rhythm at his nearness. He smiled, that sexy expression that always pulled a pool of heat into her stomach.

  “I don’t think we should keep score on dinners,” he said teasingly. The light in his eyes darkened, and he reached out and took hold of her chin. “I never saw you as Shelly’s sister. You were always sweet, sexy Savannah to me.”

  Before she knew his intention, his lips captured hers. She wanted to pull away, but his mouth was oh
so warm and inviting. Instead of stepping back, she found herself leaning into him, opening her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss.

  She’d once dreamed of what it might be like to be kissed by Josh Griffin, but now she knew her wildest dreams had simply been pale imitations of the real thing. There was no way she could have dreamed of the magic and the fire in his kiss.

  She wanted to melt into his arms and stay there forever, and that was what made her break the kiss and step back from him. “I’ve got to go,” she said, needing to escape before she fell into his arms again.

  He stepped back from her. “Savannah, find yourself again. Find the person separate from Shelly.”

  She didn’t tell him goodbye. She raced out the door to escape not just her desire for him, but also his parting words.

  She kept her mind carefully schooled to blankness as she drove the short distance home. It was only when she was in bed that she mulled over the night.

  There was no question that she’d enjoyed his company. He’d made her laugh for the first time in years, and for the most part, their conversation had been relatively light and easy. He was still the man she’d found sexy and fun two years ago. He was still a man who drew her to him despite her desire to the contrary.

  The fact that he’d lost somebody so close to him and had become the man he had spoke of his inner strength, a strength he didn’t understand she didn’t possess.

  Shelly had been the strong one. Her parents had known it. Mac had known it. Everyone had known that Shelly was special, that she was a leader. Savannah had been happy to be in Shelly’s shadow.

  She tried to think about everything but that kiss. The kiss that had rocked her back on her heels and pulled forth a powerful emotion that had stunned her.

  It was the thought of that kiss that finally got her out of bed around one. Sleep eluded her. She went into the kitchen and put the teapot on to boil water. Hopefully a cup of hot tea would relax her enough to sleep.

  She pulled down a cup and readied a tea bag and then moved to the kitchen window and stared out into the night. Tomorrow night would be the first time in a long time that she wasn’t going to make her ghost walk.