He made one last survey of her office and darkroom. A strange thought began to form in the back of his mind, something so obscure that it seemed almost ridiculous. But not so ridiculous that he could completely dismiss it. A thought about why someone had rummaged through her picture files.
Before leaving, he grabbed the business appointment book from her desktop, the PDA from the drawer, then turned on her computer and checked her security software to make sure he could access her hard drive from his laptop computer.
He returned to the cabin as quickly as the road conditions allowed. Would she still be there, or would she have taken advantage of his absence and left his cabin? Surely she wouldn’t be so foolish as to wander around in the woods on foot in a rainstorm at night. Or would she? Would his impulsive kiss have frightened her, made her afraid of what might happen if she stayed in his cabin overnight? Was she still wary about him having been physical with her to get her back inside the cabin? She should know that if he were the type of man who would attack her he would already have done it, but that didn’t mean she was thinking with her logic rather than her emotions. He again touched his fingers to the scratches on his cheek.
Stupid…stupid…stupid. Why did I kiss her? Why couldn’t I have left the cabin as I’d planned, without indulging the temptation?
By the time he pulled off the fire road and parked in his carport, over three and a half hours had passed, much longer than he had told her. He was tired, but the excitement of being involved in a case again had kept his adrenaline pumping.
And the chance to get at Frank James had made his spirits soar.
Reece unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cabin was quiet and the room empty. His muscles tensed and an adrenaline surge put his senses on high alert. He called to her, forcing a casualness to his voice that did not exist. “Brandi…it’s me. I’m a little late, but I’m back.”
He maintained his position by the front door as his gaze raked the room, searching for anything that was out of place. He spotted the papers on the dining table—his release papers from prison. A quick jolt of panic hit him. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He called her name again.
“Brandi…”
A moment later she emerged from the bathroom. Her strained voice told him she had forced a calm to her words. “I was starting to worry. I thought you might have had problems because of the rain and the mountain roads…or something.”
He saw the wariness in her eyes and the way she seemed to be using the furniture as a barrier between them. He knew he could not sidestep this one by telling her it was none of her business. He had forcibly carried her back inside the cabin when she’d tried to leave. That sort of made it her business. She had the right to know who he was…within reason. But exactly how much should he tell her? He also knew it would be better if he brought up the subject rather than waiting for her to do it. That way, he could control the direction of the conversation.
He gestured toward the papers on the table. As the old adage said, the best defense was a good offense. He carefully chose his words in an attempt to throw her off balance and keep control.
“I see you’ve been snooping in my desk and going through my personal papers.”
Her eyes widened in surprise at his accusation. She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t like what he’d said, but she couldn’t deny it. “Well, uh…no, I…well, I did happen to see—”
He picked up the papers from the table top and glanced through them. “Yes, I can see what you happened to come across in your innocent perusal of my belongings—something that was inside an envelope under my laptop computer in the bottom drawer of my desk. They were practically on public display, just waiting for someone to come along and see them.”
He turned his back on her as he took off his rain jacket and hung it on the coat hook by the door. Then he pulled off his muddy boots. He turned and faced her again.
“And now I suppose you’d like to have an explanation?”
“Well, I was sort of wondering…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say or how to respond to his attack. What in the world had possessed her to leave the papers on the table rather than putting them back where she had found them? Her initial thought had seemed like a good idea at the time. She had intended to use it as a means of forcing him to tell her about himself—an exchange of information for what he had managed to wheedle out of her. She had hoped seeing the papers on the table would throw him off guard, leave him unnerved and a little rattled so she could have the upper hand. But whatever the reason, it now seemed very foolish.
She looked up at him. His face held an impassive expression. His eyes weren’t angry, but they were intense. A new wave of anxiety washed through her body, one that put her on edge. She tried to analyze the situation. Was she in trouble? Had she stepped over some invisible line from safety into danger? Was this the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back? She swallowed in an attempt to lessen the lump in her throat.
Reece fixed her with a steady gaze. “I was released from prison three months ago, after serving the full two-year term of my sentence. I’m not on parole. My arrest and subsequent conviction was a travesty of justice. I did not do what I was convicted of. I was set up and framed.”
She glanced down at the floor. “Of course.” That really wasn’t an explanation. Didn’t everyone in prison claim to be innocent? At least that’s the way it seemed. She regained eye contact with him. “Exactly what were you convicted of doing?”
A snort of disgust escaped his throat. “What was I convicted of? I guess you could say I was convicted of trying to help a lady in distress who had retained my services as a private investigator.”
She swallowed the apprehension trying to work its way up her throat. “What does that mean?”
“It means I was not convicted of a violent crime or anything having to do with drugs, if that’s your concern. You’re not in danger from me.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “All I can do is tell you that what I’m saying is the truth. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you. Now, do you want to dwell on this, or do you want to know what I found at your house?” He picked up the small suitcase he had placed on the floor and held it out toward her. “Other than the items on your list.”
She took a couple of tentative steps forward and accepted the suitcase from him. “Thank you.” Now what? He admitted to having been in prison yet made no attempt to explain what had happened beyond saying he was innocent. And two years wasn’t a very long sentence. She knew that much was true because she had seen the dates on the papers. It wasn’t like having been convicted of murder or armed robbery or some other sort of violent crime.
She clenched her jaw. She was rationalizing again. He had made it very clear that he had no intention of discussing it any further. Should she push him for more information or let it drop? An uneasiness welled inside her. She knew her position was tenuous. As he had said, he was bigger and stronger than her. He had physical control of the situation. So, she had to concentrate on being more clever—at least until she had her concerns about him settled in her mind. But for now there were more immediate matters to consider.
His comment about finding something at her house had grabbed her attention and continued to circulate through her mind. Perhaps that would be a more prudent path to follow for right now. But she had to admit that she couldn’t shake the notion that there was an indefinable quality about him that went deeper than what he had shown on the outside. It said he was an honorable man despite having been in prison.
She knew exactly how vulnerable she was. She had given it a lot of thought while he was gone. Isolated in a mountain cabin with a man she had never seen before. A man who had just been released