The only picture she’d ever seen of him was the one on the back of his books. In it, he’d been posed leaning against a single-engine plane, the same one he’d ridden to the ground shortly after takeoff at Houston’s Hobby Airport. The black-and-white photograph had captured a man no more than thirty, tall and physically fit, but hardly muscle-bound; and although attractive, even intense, he’d hardly looked the sort to spend so much time focused on the dark side of human nature. The man glaring down at her was a different story entirely.
The fierce-eyed, scraggly bearded sentinel above had the haunted face of someone who could be at least a decade older—until you looked at the rest of him. Even from down here, she could tell he wasn’t anything close to the atrophied wreck she’d expected. Within what looked like a moth-eaten sleeveless sweatshirt was a body that seemed capable of bench pressing someone twice his size. It made her grateful for the distance between them.
“I asked you a question. What kind of help?”
His sharp reprimand snapped her out of her trance. “Excuse me. I’m—”
“I know who you are.”
He did? Had he seen her pull in next door? She wanted to ask, but his stare stopped her. It wasn’t that being looked at was a new experience for her; she and Kelly had been blessed with good genes, inheriting the best features from their striking parents, and as a result had always attracted their share of attention. But few people tended to be quite this…direct about it. Zachary Denton’s visual inventory felt anything but flattering; it was almost an assault!
“I don’t like people wandering around out there.” His voice echoed off the high ceiling and dark-paneled walls, sounding not too different than the rumbling thunder. “When they do, I find out why.”
The accusation gave her the courage to reply. “Then you know I’m not wandering. I’m your new neighbor.” She pointed behind her with her thumb. “11 Raven Lane?”
When she’d first read the street sign down the block, she’d chuckled, reminded of Poe’s famous poem. Now she wondered if the road hadn’t been named after Zachary Denton moved in.
“Well, this isn’t 11, it’s 13, so what do you want?”
What a charmer. Bet anything his house suffered a good trashing from disappointed kids on Halloween, she thought with disappointment. For A.J., of course; how crushed her husband would have been if he’d discovered his favorite writer was a big…creep. Maybe the man had suffered a horrible tragedy, but he wasn’t the first to do so. A person needed to pull himself together and get on with life. All Zachary Denton seemed to have done was entomb himself.
On the other hand, she wasn’t about to offend the man. She needed his help too much to risk getting thrown out.
Moistening her lips, she tried to ignore the deep shadows filling every corner, or how angry the rain sounded beating against his house. “Mr. Denton, if you’ll just let me borrow your telephone, I’ll be on my way in a minute. You see, I was told the water would be on at my place, but apparently someone didn’t make it out here yesterday.”
“No, they didn’t.”
So he didn’t miss anything from his second floor observation point. Wouldn’t George Orwell have found this “Big Brother” inspiring?
When he didn’t add anything else, Willa sighed inwardly and continued. “Yes, well, unfortunately, my telephone isn’t hooked up yet—I mean, either.” Good grief, the man was turning her into a babbling ninny.
“Only a fool would be alone over there without a phone.”
She couldn’t believe his gall! That did it; as soon as she moved in, she intended to lease one of those cellular models. No way did she intend to deal with this caustic, ungenerous…writer again! “That matter should be taken care of shortly,” she assured him, holding fast to the last shreds of her manners, if not her goodwill. “In a few hours at the most.”
“Yes…but sometimes a few hours can feel like an eternity.”
It was a warning despite the softer delivery. It sent another chill racing through her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, barely managing to resist rubbing them again. How dare he entertain himself by attempting to unnerve her! Worse, he’d succeeded. And it wasn’t merely the threat she had a sudden urge to run from, it was an inescapable something reaching for her through his dark, hypnotic stare…something blatant and physical. Something…sexual?
Are you crazy? The man’s in a wheelchair for pity’s sake!
Willa straightened and tried to look like the businesswoman she was, polite but cool. Clearly, she’d made a mistake. He’d gotten the wrong impression from the way she was dressed. It was too late to do anything about that; however, she intended to let him know she didn’t unravel quite as easily as he seemed to want.
“I’ll be fine, Mr. Denton, but thank you for your concern.” Trying not to appear anxious as she glanced around, she spotted the phone on the side table not three yards away. “Oh, I see it right here. If you don’t mind, I’ll—”
“If you have any sense, you won’t move into that house. Get away while you can.”
“Excuse me?” Stunned, she couldn’t have budged now if she wanted to.
“You heard me. It’s all wrong…dangerous for someone like you.”
“Someone like me? That one you’re going to have to spell out,” she said growing more angry with every second. “Exactly what are you driving at?”
He nodded as though she’d satisfied some private question. “Yes, you look like a woman who wants to hear men say it. Beautiful.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she snapped with a dismissing wave.
“And alone.”
A surprisingly cool breeze blew in through the screen door and Willa shivered. It was because it felt like phantom hands stroking her arms, she insisted to herself as goose bumps sprang up on her skin. She wouldn’t let it be him. He was just playing games to scare her, toying with her mind to make sure she never bothered him again.
Fury gave her the nerve to shift her hands to her hips and take a few steps toward him. It brought her directly under the single, but dim chandelier light. She wanted to make sure he had an excellent view; then she gave him the slow smile that used to make A.J. start breathing like a freight train engine carrying one car too many. “But I’m hardly alone am I, Mr. Denton? After all, I have you to watch over me.”
Something mesmerizing and yet untamed flared in his eyes. “That’s your biggest danger.” This time he was the one to point to the phone. “Make your call. You have three minutes before I reset the electronic bolt lock. You don’t want to be on the wrong side of that door when I do.”
Willa stared, speechless, until he disappeared into a room and slammed the door behind him. Surely he didn’t mean that?
But what if he did?
Most important, what was that nonsense about his being dangerous to her? She didn’t care for that threat one bit, or how it reminded her of the stalkings going on around Vilary.
Get a grip, kiddo. The only thing she could take comfort in was knowing that a man in Zachary Denton’s condition was about as likely to be connected with the trouble in town as it was apt to snow tonight.
Wishing she’d never come over here, Willa hurried across the room and snatched up the telephone’s receiver. Only then did she notice that her hand was shaking. Zachary Denton had achieved what he’d set out to do: he’d frightened her. In fact he’d left her trembling all over.
He waited until late to make his move, waited until she’d returned from another trip to