The Masked Man Part 12

"They didn't believe my lame excuse about a man in the cottage seducing me."

Who had seduced whom? He wasn't sure.

Her voice rose with her anger. "Or you could have said something when Arnie Evans came in and announced that he had been my mystery lover."

"Did you believe him?" Mac had to ask.

"No."

He knew he shouldn't have taken so much satisfaction in that. "I wouldn't have let you go to jail."

She shook her head, obviously disgusted with him, but not as disgusted as he was with himself.

"I'm sorry," he added, "but I had my reasons."

Her eyes narrowed and he could see that if she had even an ounce of killer's instinct in her, she would have pulled the trigger. He watched her reach for his cell phone on the coffee table where he'd tossed it earlier.

"I'm sure you also have a good reason why you were at the Foresters' party last night dressed in the same costume Trevor was planning to wear," she said. "And an even better reason why you haven't told the sheriff you were with me in the cottage."

She picked up the phone and hit three numbers. He put his money on 911. "Not to mention the human skull you have in your duffel bag."

"Hang up."

She put the phone to her ear.

"Hang up. Please." Please."

She glared at him for a moment, then hit the off b.u.t.ton, but still kept the weapon trained on him. He considered taking it away from her, but decided it would only make matters worse. Somehow he had to convince her to stay out of this.

"I do have a good reason for being at the party last night," he said. As for what had happened in the cottage...well, he could explain gravity better than he could that.

He turned his back on her and walked into the small galley kitchen. He knew Jill Lawson wasn't the kind of woman to shoot a man in the back-even if she didn't. "I need a beer. You want one?" She didn't answer, so he pulled two long-necks out of the fridge, walked back into the living room, twisted off the top of one and held it out to her.

When she didn't take it, he set the beer on the coffee table next to where she stood, then sat down in a chair facing her and twisted the cap off his own beer. He took a swig, studying her, trying to decide the best way to handle her. And handle her, literally, was exactly what he wanted to do. But then, that was what had gotten him into this mess.

"Trevor Forester called me the day before the party," he said after a moment. "He'd heard I was a private investigator and wanted to hire me."

"Hire you? you?" she said, suspicion in her tone as she glanced around the houseboat.

"There aren't many private investigators in Bigfork. I actually have an office in Whitefish." He didn't know why he was explaining himself. Maybe because he wanted her to know he was legit. "Trevor said he feared his life was in danger."

Her eyes widened and she lowered herself into the chair next to the coffee table. She rested the weapon on her thigh and reached for the beer with her free hand. She took a sip, watching him over the bottle.

"Trevor said he needed to talk to me in person, but couldn't until the next evening," Mac continued. "I was to meet him at the party, or more precisely, in the lake cottage at eight-fifteen. He had a costume delivered to the marina for me with instructions that I was to go straight to the cottage via the sh.o.r.e and be inconspicuous."

"Inconspicuous as Rhett Butler?"

"I had no idea he planned to show up in the same costume. Or that you would mistake me for him."

Her eyes narrowed. "You were the one who kissed me me the instant I stepped into the cottage." the instant I stepped into the cottage."

"I did it to shut you up. I saw a boat approaching. I wasn't sure who was on board." A small lie, but he didn't want to bring up Nathaniel Pierce. "I figured Trevor had his reasons for such a clandestine meeting-and his reasons for believing his life was in danger. I didn't want you giving me away."

"So that was all there was to it," she said.

He knew she was waiting for him to tell her that there was a h.e.l.l of a lot more to the part where they'd made love.

He looked her in the eye, knowing how important it was that he make her believe him. "We just got a little carried away, I guess. Pretty hot s.e.x. Must have been the intrigue of it. I'm sure we'd be disappointed if we tried it again."

The hurt in her eyes was almost his undoing. He feared, though, that he was right. They would be disappointed. Last night had been...amazing. He also feared the reverse-that making love to her would be even better the second time-and that he'd be tempted to love. Again.

He cursed himself for hurting her, but it would be much worse to let her think anything was going to come out of last night's lovemaking. It would serve no purpose to tell her he'd never felt anything like what they'd shared. Even if they'd ended up making love again a few minutes ago before she pulled the gun on him, it wouldn't have changed the final outcome-which was him leaving. Soon.

He was a loner, a guy who never stayed in one place long, and he liked it that way. Jill Lawson was a woman with deep roots, a woman who, until a couple of days ago, was engaged to be married.

"Now you know my reasons for not telling the deputies I was with you in the cottage. I didn't want to get involved in Trevor's murder."

OH, SHE UNDERSTOOD all right. He didn't want to get involved with the authorities-or with her. It was just a one-night stand.

So why didn't she believe him? Not his supposed nonchalance about their lovemaking last night or his refusal to become involved in Trevor's murder.

"If you didn't want to get involved, then what were you doing out on the island today, Mackenzie?"

He took a swallow of beer. "I was curious. And you can call me Mac."

Mac. "I saw the skull in the duffel bag, Mac," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "There's an old cemetery on the island. Probably early pioneers. That's not that unusual."

"And it interests you because...?"

He shrugged. "I was just curious what was behind that restricted fence. Weren't you?"

"I still am. I know Trevor and Arnie Evans have been in there working. I've seen the mud on their boots."

Mac nodded. "They were probably trying to get rid of the bodies before anyone found out. If there are any relatives of those pioneers still around, they could make a stink about the bodies being moved. Even shut down construction, possibly."

She stared at him, wis.h.i.+ng she could find a flaw in his logic. He seemed to have all the answers.

She couldn't help being disappointed the skull hadn't meant more. And angry with him for making it sound as if their lovemaking had been...what? Great s.e.x but a fluke?

"Where is the skull?" he asked.

"Still in the duffel, unless whoever jumped me took it."

He shook his head. "He didn't have it when he dived into the water."

"I wonder what he was after," she said, watching Mac, curious how he would explain this away.

"You."

"Me?"

"I imagine he followed you here."

She couldn't believe this. "Why?"

"Trevor owed a lot of people, people who might think that because you were his fiancee, you were in on scamming them."

She hadn't thought of that. "I think the man was the same one who was in my apartment last night. He demanded my engagement ring and was upset when I told him I didn't have it." She noticed Mac's surprise. "He tore the silver bracelet that Trevor gave me from my wrist."

"Did he take any of your other jewelry?"

She shook her head. "You think it was someone who knew Trevor had given me the ring and the bracelet? The bracelet was just a trinket, not worth anything."

Mac took another swallow of beer. "The word around the area is that Trevor hadn't been paying his bills. It sounds like whoever took your bracelet was just trying to get even. That's why I think you should stop snooping around, stay some place other than your apartment until things blow over. At least until Trevor's killer is caught. And try to keep a low profile."

"I have a business to run."

"Hard to run dead."

She got to her feet, put the gun on the coffee table and turned to him again. "I took the bullets out before I came out of the bedroom."

"I know." He shrugged. "Otherwise, I would have taken the weapon away from you."

He was an impossible man. She went back into the bathroom. Her bikini was still wet, but she closed the door and put it on, anyway. It helped cool her anger. "Where's my wet suit?"

"Just take the s.h.i.+rt," he called through the closed door. "It's an old one."

She put the s.h.i.+rt back on. The cloth was worn and soft and smelled a little like him. She'd get it back to him tomorrow.

When she came out, he was sitting where she'd left him, drinking his beer.

"Are you going to try to find out who killed Trevor?"

He shook his head. "I stay clear of ongoing murder investigations. It keeps me out of trouble."

She studied him for a long moment, feeling that electric excitement in the air between them. She didn't believe for a moment that if they made love again it would be anything but amazing. Maybe even more amazing than last night.

She ached for him to take her in his arms again, ached to feel his touch once more on her skin. But more than that, to feel that connection she'd felt between them. More than s.e.x. Much more.

"About last night in the cottage-"

"Do me a favor," he said interrupting her. "Don't make me have to rescue you again. Tonight makes us even, okay?"

Even? She glared at him. "You're scared, aren't you."

He looked surprised.

"You're afraid of what would happen if we made love again." She couldn't believe the brazen words coming out of her mouth.

He couldn't seem to, either. He laughed and shook his head as he got up from his chair. She watched him go out onto the deck and pull her wet suit off the railing. He stayed there in the shadowy darkness, holding her wet suit out to her. "I think you better get going before I prove you wrong and disappoint us both. Let's just keep last night a memory, okay?"

She walked to him, s.n.a.t.c.hed the wet suit from his fingers and crossed the deck to the opening in the railing. Once on the dock, she started the long walk to her van.

The dock felt warm under her bare feet as she left. A quiet darkness had settled over the marina. A light fog had moved in off the lake. The marina lights cast an eerie glow over the water.

She didn't look back at the houseboat until she reached the stand of pines where she'd left her van. Mackenzie Cooper was leaning against the boat railing, looking out into the darkness.

Just the sight of him made her ache. But Mackenzie Cooper had made it clear that last night was a mistake. One he didn't plan to repeat. Unfortunately it didn't make her want him any less.

What was it about last night and her that seemed to scare him? He didn't seem like a man who scared easily.

And she didn't believe for a moment that he wasn't looking for Trevor's killer. Which meant they'd be seeing each other again. Soon.

Chapter Ten.

After a sleepless night watching Jill's apartment, Mac returned to the houseboat, took a cold shower and was getting dressed when his cell phone rang. He hoped it was Shane, who, Mac worried, was hiding, trying to figure out how to turn twelve gold coins into cash.

"h.e.l.lo?" His hope was dashed at the sound of Pierce's voice.

"Well?" Pierce said.

"Well, what? You didn't really expect me to find your...merchandise this soon, did you?" Mac snapped back.

The silence on the other end of the line made it clear that Pierce had.

"I checked with my ranch foreman," Pierce said, sounding put out. "Shane did work on the ranch. For a week. He quit. So did his buddy who was hired with him, some guy who called himself Buffalo Boy."

Buffalo Boy. "I a.s.sume he has a real name," Mac said. "I a.s.sume he has a real name," Mac said.

"Marvin. Marvin Dodd. You realize how important it is that the contents of that box don't just start turning up, don't you?"

Mac groaned to himself. "I have another call coming in. I'll let you know as soon as I have something." He clicked off. What a pompous a.s.s, he thought, as he took the other call.

"Mackenzie? It's Charley Johnson." Charles was one of the few people on earth Mac let call him Mackenzie.

The tone of his cop friend's voice scared him. Had Shane been found?