Chapter Two
Staggering back from the room, Marly clapped a hand to her mouth.
Oh, man. Oh, no.
She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to ward off the nausea. Trying to block out the revulsion.
But it was too late. She was going to be sick. Collapsing against the wall, she tried to fight it.
What am I doing here? she wondered frantically. What had possessed her to enter law enforcement in the first place? She’d never had a burning desire to be a cop. It wasn’t some lifelong dream of hers. She wasn’t remotely suited for the job, and everyone in town knew it. She’d put in for the opening at the police department because after leaving her last position so abruptly, she’d desperately needed a job. Any job.
And then with just eight weeks of training at the Texas Law Enforcement Training Academy in San Antonio under her belt, they’d pinned a badge to her chest, strapped a .38 onto her hips and called her a deputy. But that didn’t mean she was qualified. That didn’t mean, even after nearly a year on the job, she was equipped to deal with the bloody mess inside that bedroom that had once been Ricky Morales’s face—
But she had to deal with it. She had to do something. Call for backup. Secure the scene…
A subtle noise somewhere nearby brought Marly’s head up with a jerk. She couldn’t tell what the sound was or even where it had come from, but the sudden knowledge that she was no longer alone chilled her blood.
She eased herself away from the wall and for the first time in her short law enforcement career, drew her weapon.
Heart pounding, her mouth dry with fear, she peered down the murky hallway toward the living room.
Someone was there. No doubt about it. She could see his silhouette at the end of the corridor. His features were indistinguishable, but he appeared huge as he started toward her.
Marly clutched her weapon with both hands. “Police! Stay right where you are!”
To her immense relief, the man froze. He didn’t so much as move a muscle that Marly could see, but she could feel his gaze on her. Dark. Intense. Cold. Gooseflesh prickled along the back of her neck.
“Hands behind your head,” she barked. “No sudden moves.”
Slowly he lifted his hands and clasped them behind his head.
Still gripping her weapon, Marly inched toward him. “Who are you?”
“Deacon Cage.” His voice was deep and smooth. A little too smooth, Marly decided.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m looking for Ricky Morales.”
“He a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. He didn’t show up for work this morning so his boss sent me over here to check up on him.”
“This boss have a name?”
“Skip Manson. He’s a job foreman for Satterfield Construction. They’re building the new gymnasium at the high school.”
By this time, Marly was standing only a couple of feet from the stranger, and what she saw when she glanced up caused her heart to skip a beat. Dark hair. Dark eyes. High cheekbones and a well-shaped mouth. A chiseled jawline and a strong, determined chin.
Not bad, Marly thought. Not bad at all.
The stranger lifted a quizzical brow, as if he could tell exactly what she was thinking.
He couldn’t, of course, but heat washed over Marly’s cheeks just the same. To cover her embarrassment, she gave him a piercing glare. “Do you always enter private residences without an invitation, Mr. Cage?”
“The front door was open. Besides, when I saw the police car out front, I was afraid something might have happened to Morales.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “An accident maybe.”
The way he stared down at her was very unnerving.
It’s like he knows me, Marly thought with a shiver.
Taking a steadying breath, she tried to disregard the icy tingles shooting through her veins. “I’ll need to see some identification.”
She tensed when he started to lower his arms.
“I have to get my wallet from my back pocket,” he explained.
“Just don’t make any sudden moves,” she warned.
He fished out his wallet and slowly handed it to her. He was being very cooperative. Nothing in the least threatening about his attitude. So why did she feel so vulnerable? Marly wondered. So…exposed?
She scrutinized the picture on his California driver’s license, noting his age, address and physical description. To her dismay, her hand trembled as she folded the wallet and gave it back to him. “You’re a long way from home, Mr. Cage.”
“No law against that, is there?”
Marly ignored the question. “I’m going to have to ask you to step outside.”
“Why? Has something happened to Morales?”
“Just step outside, Mr. Cage.”
Something flickered in his eyes, a darkness that made Marly realize how alone they were in the house.
You have a gun on him. No way he can hurt you.
But when he made a slight move toward her, Marly jumped back like a nervous cat.
“I wouldn’t try that,” she warned.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Damn straight you’re not.” She clutched the gun.
He backed off, lifting his hands in acquiescence. “Look, I just want to know what happened here—”
A sound from the living room stopped him cold, and he seemed to grow very tense. “We’ve got company,” he said in that hair-raising voice of his.
Thank God, Marly thought. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could take being alone with him. He was a very intimidating man although she had no idea why she felt that way. He hadn’t threatened her. Hadn’t so much as said anything out of line to her. And yet her instincts told her he was dangerous. In more ways than she could possibly imagine.
Lifting her chin slightly, she tried to peer around him. “Who’s there?” she called out. “Identify yourself!”
A slight hesitation, then a male voice responded, “Tony Navarro. Jessop, is that you?”
The stranger jerked around at the sound of Navarro’s voice, and he stared down the hall for just a split second before he slowly turned back to face Marly. She caught her breath at the look on his face. If she’d thought him dangerous before, there was no doubt in her mind now. None at all.
What the hell was going on here? she wondered desperately. Who was he? And why was she so afraid of him?
There was something about him, something…not quite of this world. Not with those eyes. That voice…
Marly sucked in a sharp breath as she finally put a name to her fear. He was temptation.
She glanced toward the end of the hallway where Police Chief Tony Navarro had appeared. It might have been Marly’s imagination, but she could have sworn the testosterone level in the immediate area shot to a very perilous level.
Even under such grim circumstances, the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. She hadn’t had a date in almost a year, and now all of a sudden she found herself in the company of two tall, dark, dangerously attractive men. The chances of that happening in Mission Creek were slim to none, and just her