Who was Leigh? Undoubtedly related to her if they looked enough alike to be mistaken for one another. Stony Ridge did have answers after all. So did this man. All she had to do was to ask the right questions.
Alexis hesitated, debating her options. She glanced at the building behind her. A smoky scent lingered in the heavy, humid air. The fire must have burned hot and furious, because the insides had been destroyed with savage completeness.
“You and Gavin were lucky the other night,” he said in a hard tone of voice. “If you’d been upstairs when that gas line blew…”
Upstairs? She raised her eyes and realized there had been living quarters above the shop. The thought that anyone might have been inside was horrifying.
“You want to toss your briefcase back here?” he asked, dismissing both the fire and the building.
Should she go with him or stay here?
He waited calmly, as if he sensed her indecision. There was nothing remotely threatening in his manner. She liked that he was giving her time to decide. But when it came right down to it, she had nowhere else to go.
Alexis handed him the heavy case. He set it on the back seat without a word about its weight and stepped back, holding the door open for her.
The car was low. Her skirt scooted up her thigh as she sat. She felt his stare as she struggled to pull it into place. If his expression had been the least bit lecherous, she’d have been out of the car instantly, but his gaze held only a masculine appreciation she might have enjoyed if things had been different.
Watching him stride around to the driver’s side, Alexis had all sorts of time for second and third thoughts. Going anywhere with this vibrant stranger was a really stupid thing to do. He thought she was someone named Leigh. How long could she maintain the pretense before he saw through the sham? She wasn’t up to this. Heck, she didn’t even know who she was anymore.
He offered her a smile as he slid behind the wheel. Her clenched muscles began to relax. The man had a breathtaking smile.
“I’m afraid it’ll take a second or two for the air conditioner to put out anything like cool air. Jezzy here isn’t up to dealing with this sort of heat.”
“You named your car?”
His grin widened unselfconsciously. “Blame it on my mother. She and my sisters always named our cars. I guess I picked up the habit.”
There was something rather endearing about that, which was ridiculous. So what if the man had a mother and sisters? Even serial killers had family.
“Jezzy?” she asked nervously.
“Short for Jezebelle. You’ll notice the faded leather seats and all the fancy dashboard equipment. At one time this girl was loaded with all the extras, flashy and pretentious for such a cheaply made little car. When I found her on the used car lot, she reminded me of an abandoned harlot, past her prime but determined to make the best of what she still had.”
“Oh.”
He chuckled, a warm rumbly sound that was as oddly soothing as the man himself.
“Don’t worry about it. My family thinks I’m a little nuts, too, but it isn’t contagious.”
“Too bad.”
He tilted his head. Alexis squirmed. “I just meant that it’s a nice sort of nuts to be.” That grin of his was dangerously disarming.
“Thanks.”
Alexis looked away quickly. The man gave a whole other meaning to the words “perfect stranger.” She was suddenly all too aware of how rumpled she looked. She’d done the best she could this morning considering she’d had no fresh clothing and only the contents of her purse to work with. She’d only wanted to look presentable when she spoke with the lawyer. Now she wished she’d taken the time to stop and buy a clean outfit. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment, but she’d noticed a dress shop in town. She’d go there as soon as they returned. Hopefully the prices wouldn’t be too outrageous. Her bank account was a little slim these days.
With a start, she realized he’d spoken to her again. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I just said you look tired.”
“I am tired.” A gross understatement. Alexis closed her eyes in despair.
“It’s going to be okay, Leigh.”
Her eyes flew open. Who was Leigh? Cousin? Sister? Aunt?
“Look, I don’t mean to be rude—”
“You aren’t being rude. You’re tired. You’ve been through a lot in the past few days.”
Startled, she inhaled sharply. How did he know?
Puzzled concern creased his forehead. He didn’t know, she realized. He’d meant this Leigh person had been through a lot in the past few days. He’d said the woman could have been inside the burned-out shell of that building back in town. It was simply an unnerving coincidence that this Leigh person had been through an ordeal, as well.
“Hey, how does a milk shake sound? Chocolate? Vanilla? One of the more exotics?”
A milk shake? Somehow she couldn’t get her mind to focus on something so mundane. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be able to swallow a single sip anyhow.
“Surprise me.”
“Okay, but I like the exotics, myself. Some of those candy-flavored ones are dangerously addictive, you know.”
It was impossible not to return that smile, even if hers felt weak and distant. She suspected candy-flavored milk shakes weren’t the only things potentially addictive around here. Why couldn’t someone like this have been her roommate’s cousin instead of Seth?
Golden’s Ice Cream turned out to be a drive-up place in the middle of nowhere. Yet, judging from the number of cars clustered around the parking lot, being in the middle of nowhere wasn’t a drawback. A scattering of picnic tables sat in a grove of trees off to one side and all of them held people.
“Do you want to come with me or stay here while I get us something?” he asked.
“I’d rather stay.”
He opened all the windows before stepping out of the car. “You sure you won’t get too hot waiting for me?”
“I’ll try to contain myself.”
He winced in consternation as he realized how his question had come out.
“I meant, try not to melt before I get back, okay?”
That dredged a genuine smile from her. “You’d better quit while you’re ahead.”
“I think you’re right. I’ll be right back.”
She liked him. Not only was he extremely good-looking, he was a genuinely nice guy, as well. She watched him stride toward the long line of customers waiting under the awning for service. More than one person called out a greeting as he passed.
“Hey, Wyatt!”
“Wyatt! Are we still playing ball tomorrow?”
“That’s the plan, but if we get more rain, we may need snorkels.”
His name was Wyatt and he played ball. She tossed the name around in her head. Unusual, but it suited him. Alexis could picture him as gunslinger in the Old West. Tall and loose-limbed, Wyatt had an athletic body that moved with a comfortable grace. Yet there was a sense of barely restrained energy about him. Wyatt never seemed to just walk. He strode with a sense of purpose, a sense of power. Like his namesake, the role of sheriff would suit him. Wyatt was the sort of man people looked up to, a natural leader.
What