The Masked Man Part 17

"All right. Just don't let her get away."

He smiled. "I'll tackle her if she makes a run for it."

"You used to play football, didn't you?"

"A long time ago."

"I'll bet you were good. High school? College?"

"Both." This kind of talk was making him uncomfortable. He didn't tell anyone about his past. "Sit tight."

Mac knocked. No answer. He tried several more times, then peered in the windows. The place looked as if it'd been ransacked. Impossible to tell if it had happened before or after Rachel Wells had packed up and cleared out. There was a photo on the floor, the frame and gla.s.s broken. It was the same woman as in the Employee of the Month photo.

He checked the back, then returned to the pickup and Jill. "It looks like she's taken off. The place has been ransacked."

Jill groaned. "I just know she's involved in Trevor's murder somehow. She warned me at the funeral that it was dangerous to be asking questions about the murder."

"I believe I told you the same thing," Mac said. "Call the sheriff's department. Maybe she left a clue in the apartment about where she went, and they can go in and find it."

He listened while Jill placed the call on her cell. Deputy Duncan wasn't in, so she left a message for him with Rachel Wells's name and address.

When she hung up she looked over at Mac. "Well, I guess that's it. I helped you find Marvin and you helped me find Rachel."

He looked out at the darkness, not wanting to leave her any more than he suspected she wanted him to. "Technically, we didn't find Rachel."

"True, and we might not," Jill said. "I'm sure she's skipped town. And to add insult to injury, probably in my car."

This was crazy. And dangerous. "I don't think you should be alone right now."

She shot him a look. "What are you suggesting?"

He had trouble saying the words. "I think I should stay with you, on your couch, at least for a while."

"I just got new locks-"

"Look," he said, turning to face her, "your couch has to be better than sleeping in the front of this truck every night."

She smiled at him. "You've been watching my apartment?"

"You didn't give me much choice," he said.

"Why?"

"So you wouldn't get killed."

"No," she said. "I mean why do you feel you have to protect me? What makes it your job?"

"After the other night..."

She started laughing. "Do you protect every woman you sleep with?"

"Of course not," he said, wis.h.i.+ng he hadn't told her about the night vigils.

She raised a brow. "Then why me?"

"You know the answer to that. I made love with Trevor Forester's fiancee while he was being murdered just before he was going to hire me to find his killer."

She shook her head. "Nice try. But that isn't it."

He swore under his breath. "Are you going to let me stay on your couch or not?"

"Of course. I appreciate your wanting to protect me, although I don't think it's necessary."

"Let me be the judge of that." He started the truck and drove back to where they'd left her van earlier. "I'll follow you to your apartment."

THE MOON FLIRTED with the clouds as Jill drove her van back to her apartment. She rolled down the windows in the van and let the warm, pine-scented night air blow in. She turned up the radio. She couldn't remember ever being this happy. Not even the day Trevor asked her to marry him.

When she parked, she saw that she had company. Brenna was waiting anxiously on her doorstep.

"I'm so glad to see you," Brenna said. "I have to tell you-" She stopped abruptly when she saw Mac pull up behind the van and get out of his truck.

Jill figured whatever her friend had found out must be about him.

"Mac, this is my friend Brenna Margaret Boyd. Brenna, Mackenzie Cooper."

Mac's smile had an edge to it. "Mac. But we've met. Last night at the Beach Bar." He shot Jill a look that said he had only suspected he'd been set up the night before-but was well aware of it now. He shook Brenna's hand, then glanced at Jill. "Let's go up to your apartment, and then I'll have a look around."

Brenna looked as if she was bursting to tell Jill something, but asked first, when Mac left the room, "What happened last night on the boat?"

Jill filled her in, skipping the part about the skull. Nor did she tell Brenna about the ring Trevor had given her. Both stories were too big for a reporter to sit on, and Jill didn't want to put her friend in that position. When Mac found out from his friend whether or not the skull was that of one of the missing teenaged girls, then Jill would tell Brenna and let her go after the story.

"He was your mystery lover?" Brenna cried. was your mystery lover?" Brenna cried.

Jill shushed her. "I've never felt like this."

"You do look flushed and a little wild-eyed," her friend said. "Jill, you know nothing about this man!"

"I know everything I need to know." Jill saw Brenna look uncomfortable. "Don't I?"

Mac rejoined them. "I've checked all the locks and windows in both the apartment and bakery-"

His cell phone rang. He held Jill's gaze for a moment, then answered it.

"Uncle Mac?"

"Shane." Mac took a relieved breath, fighting the urge to yell at his nephew. "Where are you?"

"I'm in trouble."

As if Mac didn't know that.

"I need your help." The fear he heard in Shane's voice scared him. "I think someone's trying to kill me." Shane sounded close to tears.

"Tell me where you are," Mac ordered. He looked up to see Jill watching him, looking concerned.

"I'm at the gas station phone booth at Yellow Bay, but I can't stay here," Shane said.

"All right. Just tell me where to meet you."

"Do you know where that abandoned cherry-packing plant is near Finley Point?"

Mac remembered pa.s.sing it earlier that day on the way out to Marvin Dodd's. "Yes. I'll be there in just a few minutes. Shane?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

He hung up and looked at Jill.

"Go," she said. "I'll be fine."

"I'll stay with her," Brenna said.

Mac couldn't take his eyes off Jill. He didn't want to leave her, but she was much safer here than where he was headed. "Lock up behind me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nodded and followed him down the stairs.

"She seems like a good friend," he said, knowing Brenna was waiting for Jill upstairs and, from the looks of her, dying to talk to Jill alone.

"She is a good friend."

He nodded, wanting to pull Jill into his arms, wanting to kiss her. "You have a good life here." Kissing her would mess up that life.

She looked as if she might cry. "Be careful?"

He touched her cheek, then turned and left before he said something he couldn't take back. Something that could change his life. Forever.

JILL WATCHED Mac leave. He'd looked worried. About his nephew? Or was he worried about what Brenna might tell her? She wanted to believe it was because he cared more than he wanted to admit.

She'd wanted him to kiss her. For a moment at the door, she thought he might. But she knew if he did, she'd only want more.

When she got back upstairs, Brenna was pacing. "Okay, what is it you're dying to tell me?"

"He was married."

"Mac?"

"They met his last year in college."

"And?"

"And she died. Cancer."

Jill sat down. "Oh, how awful. She must have been very young."

Brenna nodded. "They'd been living in Denver, but he left right after that. The people he worked with at a private-investigations office there said he was devastated by his wife's death. His whole personality changed. He started keeping to himself, moving a lot and became bitter and cynical. I guess he avoids relations.h.i.+ps big time."

"That explains why he seems so...afraid of what happened between us. So determined it won't happen again."

"Maybe it shouldn't," Brenna said.

Jill sighed. "I don't know. I just know that what happened between us wasn't just great s.e.x. Something clicked, something...big. And I'm afraid this sort of thing only comes along once in a lifetime. I don't want to pa.s.s it up. I want to see where it takes me."

"What about Mac?" Brenna asked.

"He's determined to keep me at arm's length." The phone rang, making Jill jump. She went to answer it, worried about Mac and Shane.

It was her father. "I'm fine," she told him. "Brenna is here with me. Catch any fish?"

"We got a few."

We? "Who went with you?" she asked.

Silence. "Darlene. I've been wanting the two of you to meet." Silence.

Jill felt tears burn her eyes. She'd caught the sound of happiness in her father's voice. "I would love to meet her." She could almost feel his relief over the phone line.

"Oh, Jill, I can't tell you how glad that makes me."

She was crying softly. "Dad, I like it that you've found someone. I don't want you to be sad anymore."

"I'll see you in the morning, then," he said. "Sleep tight, sweetheart."

"You too, Dad."

As Jill hung up, she dried her tears and noticed the answering machine blinking. She pushed Play and was startled to hear the other Scarlett's voice. Only, there was another layer to it. Fear.

"It's Rachel. I have to talk to you." She was whispering as if she thought someone might be listening in. "Call me. It's urgent." She left a cell-phone number.

When Jill looked up, Brenna was standing in the doorway. "Our missing Rachel? She sounds scared."