Chapter Nineteen

 

The Thursday night run started off fairly normal. Hope Williams wore a black lycra with bright yellow stripes at her knees and arms. Soft leather gloves kept her hands warm and a slim cotton band kept her hair from her face and her ears warm. She loved running through the old part of Defiance Point, the ancestral houses built at the turn of the century taking up huge plots of land with tall wrought iron fencing and old world trees.

She’d come to fashion her own little gothic stories around each of the sprawling homes. Her favorite was the werewolf pack moving into the neighborhood.

The first sign something was off was when she found the large sliding gates wide open. The driveway wasn’t a long one compared to others along the winding roads above the southern Sound. The second sign that had her frowning was the car parked near the back door. There was only one vehicle she’d ever seen there and it was always beneath the wide carport. The house was dark, not a light showing.

A low groan broke from inside her when her sneaker feet swerved to go up the short drive toward the house.

“This is the part where you scream to the TV,” she said softly to herself. “The part where you tell the girl don’t go in the house!”

She kept to the shadows, moving around the side of the house where the unknown car was parked. Another groan broke free.

“You don’t leave a car running…without a really good reason,” she told herself, cursing the lack of pockets in spandex. “Or a really bad reason,” she amended, leather clad slim fingers touching the shredded wood at the side entrance.

She flattened herself against the door as she stepped inside, moving very slowly to let her vision adjust as she found her way. She heard the angry voices and then the loud crash that sent a shudder through her, her almost black body plastered against the wall when another darkly clad man started up the wide, curving staircase. She went the other direction, into the kitchen again and up the back staircase. Something inside her said there was a valuable item upstairs the man was after.

A deep instinct told her it wasn’t an inanimate object. She’d glimpsed a pale blond head on the floor of the room the man had left. She didn’t think she had time to check on him, not if her hunch was right. She wasn’t sure if she watched too much police dramas or too much sci-fi channel. The hall was wide in the old house, the doors to the rooms open and looked to be in the middle of a renovation. All of them were empty. But one.

She had to smile. Kids never slept the way the bed went. This one was very small and curled against the upper corner of the twin bed. Judging by the décor of the room, it was a little girl. Using the quilt on the bed, she quickly bundled the sleeping little girl inside, holding her tightly against her and slipping back out of the room and into the hall. Children were amazingly rubbery and the little girl soon formed herself to the new warmth holding her close.

The man was noisy and must have known he was the only other person conscious in the house except for the child. So it was a kidnapping, she thought, easily moving back to the kitchen and staring around. She heard the little mews from the bundle in her arms and smiled down into a cherub face topped with unruly blond curls and wide brown eyes.

“Hi…what’s your name?” She asked softly, continuing her gaze around the very large, newly installed kitchen appliances and counters.

“Mina…who’re you?”

“My name is Hope,” she answered with a smile. “And we’re going to play a little game of hide and seek…do you like games?” She laughed softly at the nod and grin on the still drowsy looking face.

“Where’s daddy?”

“I’m going to find him…but first I have to hide you, okay?” Hope lifted a heavy stainless steel panel shielding one of the shelf units in the pantry. “I need you to be very, very quiet, alright? And don’t talk unless it’s me or daddy? Do you understand?”

Mina nodded and curled onto the shelf the woman set her into, laying her head down on the blanket with a big yawn.

“I’ll be real quiet, I promise,” she whispered sleepily.

Hope crossed her fingers after they brushed some stray curls from the little girl’s forehead. If Hope was lucky, she’d fall back to sleep. She looked around the kitchen, one palm rubbing her neck before letting her fingers close around the handle of the heavy frying pan, testing the weight. She inhaled deeply.

It always worked in the cartoons, she thought.

She crept up the back staircase, keeping herself close to the wall and listening. The man was obviously really angry that he couldn’t find what he was after, loud cursing and slamming doors. He stood facing the stairs, his hand on a phone at his ear. He seemed to be waiting, looking up in surprise at the same time she swung the pan with all her might.

Hope wasn’t sure what kind of outcome she expected. But this was definitely not it. The pan fell from her hands at the same time the man rolled over and over down the wide, curving staircase, landing at the bottom with a stomach lurching snap that sent her eyes wide and head shaking in denial.

Rubbing the back of his head, Devon Alexander had stepped into the foyer at the same time he saw the woman dressed in running clothes swing the heavy frying pan. He watched the man crash down, ignoring him when he heard the crunch.

Alert eyes swept back to the top of the stairs, his feet taking them two at a time when he saw a glimpse of what was to come. Dark eyes peered at him, slivers of white beginning to show when he gripped her shoulders with a strong shake. She was wearing gloves, he thought, good.

“No! No…don’t blink out on me now…” He lifted her by her shoulders, a slender, slim very female figure. He held her on her toes with a firm shake. “Stay with me…What’s your name?”

“Hope…” she brought her tongue out. “Hope Williams…”

“Listen to me…don’t faint on me…I need you awake…where’s my daughter? Where’s Mina?”

“The kitchen…I put her there…she’s safe…hiding…” her head bobbed, deep brown gypsy layers fluttering around her face. “Oh my god…he’s…I…” Lashes fluttered again, her breathing coming too fast.

“No!” He shook her again. “You didn’t,” he said firmly, holding her on the edge of pain to make her stay with him. “Listen to me…your name is Hope Alexander. Got it? And you didn’t do anything…I did it…Can you stand?”

“Yes…yes…but…”

“Go bring Mina up here and go into that bedroom,” he nodded behind her, his hand pulling a phone from the pocket of his slacks. “Go bring her up here, Hope. Trust me,” he watched her nod and take off at a light run to the kitchen. He picked up the pan, holding it firmly to plant his fingerprints on the handle before he placed the call to the police, snapping his phone closed as she reappeared, the little bundle in her arms, asleep. “Thank god…” he brushed his fingers over her forehead.

“Why…” Hope frowned at the hand on her elbow, guiding her into the very large master bedroom.

Devon pulled a large tee shirt from a drawer and tossed it to her. He took Mina from her and laid her in the middle of the big bed.

“I don’t have time to explain now. You and Mina were asleep. I was working downstairs. You screamed, I came up the back stairs and hit the guy with the pan, got it? Get out of those clothes and put that on,” He moved quickly to the door, growling at the pounding and sirens outside. “I’ll deal with this…remember what I told you,” he said firmly, accepting her nod before going to answer the door.

Hope stared after him. She just killed a man, she whimpered, quickly changing out of her running clothes, laying them on a cushioned chair before dropping the tee shirt over her head.

Swell. Airborne was blazoned across her chest, her hands tugging at the hem. She slid over the surface of the bed, arranging blankets over the little girl and her own bare toes.

She felt her stomach clench.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Alexander, we need to speak to your wife,” said the firm voice coming up the stairs.

Hope knew she was shaking, hands wrapped tightly around the edge of the blanket when the door was pushed wide, the light brought up to a low level. Two officers stepped inside the large room.

“I’m sorry. Mrs. Alexander. I understand you’re shaken by this…but we need to talk to you about the break in,” the officer said gently, making notes as he asked questions. He accepted her nod, noting the husband moving to sit at her side, his arm reassuringly around her shoulders. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I…I honestly don’t know,” Hope couldn’t stop the shudder racing through her, her brain working to remember what he’d told her to say. “We were reading and Mina fell asleep. My…my husband was working downstairs. Some…person…he shoved the door open and…and grabbed me…and I screamed…why was he in our house? What did he want?” She heard the confusion in her own voice even as the words broke free. “I heard crashing on the stairs…” She looked from one to the other, a little frantic.

“I think we have all we need, sir, ma’am…”

“Is he…did he…” Hope looked from one to the other, their grim expressions answering her questions. “Oh god…”

“Hope…” Devon took hold of her shoulders again. “No…stay with me, honey…”

“I’m good…I’m sorry…I…someone died…” she forced a deep breath into her lungs, sitting upright, hands out to steady her. “I’m good…”

“They’re cleaning things up now, Mr. Alexander. If the prosecutor’s office has any further questions, we’ll be in touch,” the officer nodded at Hope and left them alone.

“I have to go downstairs,” Devon bent his head to peer into her eyes. “Okay?”

“Yeah…oh, yeah…I’m good…”

“You did good with the police, but with me, you’re a lousy liar, Hope,” he said with a chuckle, glancing at his daughter. “I’m just glad she slept through the whole thing. I owe you,” he told her solemnly, striding from the room and going below to finish dealing with the police.

Hope felt her stomach give another lurch when she heard the sounds below.

She just killed a man.

And she lied to the police, her mind whimpered, laying back and pulling the blankets over her head.

“I just got a new job,” she wailed softly. “I don’t want to go to jail…”

“I’ll do my best to see that doesn’t happen,” Devon commented with a low chuckle, watching the sudden explosion of dark brown hair appear, the blanket stopping just below a pair of very wide, very dark eyes. “Devon Alexander.”

“Hello,” Hope answered, swallowing hard. “I killed a man and lied to the police!” She whispered hoarsely.

He took a slow inventory. Her features were delicate, and she would have been simply cute if not for her stubbornly set mouth and arresting dark eyes which transformed her into stunning. With her golden tanned skin, dark hair and long lithe body, he was positive she was the feature of many men's illicit daydreams. Her hair had been pinned out of her face, but that was many hours ago and the tendrils of her somewhat unruly mane had begun to slip free.

“Technically, the fall killed him,” he winced as she fell back on the bed, the blanket over her head. “Not that I’m questioning my good fortune, but how is it you came to be inside my house?”

“I didn’t listen to the voices that said don’t go into the haunted house,” she mumbled from inside her cocoon.

“Think we could do this face to face, Hope?” He asked, watching as she slowly lowered the blanket and sat upright. He didn’t remember his shirt ever looking quite that curved. “Haunted house?” He prompted, leaning back in the chair and studying her. There were no rings on her hands, the deep brown hair barely touched her neck and he had a glimpse of something gold dangling from each ear. “Is there someone waiting up for you, Hope?”

“Waiting…no, no…” her head shook slowly, long legs pulled so she could sit cross legged, elbows on her knees. “My room mates are a little self involved at the moment and wouldn’t notice I was gone until the food ran out. I start a new job on Monday! I’m not sure they’ll hire me if I have a felony breaking and entering! Oh, let’s not forget the murder part…” she said with a groan. “Only I didn’t break in! The door was already broken…”

“I know…and I’ll have to check in the morning to find out how he bypassed the gate security,” Devon told her flatly. “And once more…I don’t intend to turn you over to the police, Hope. Just remember the story and we’re fine. It’s called home owner self defense. He was threatening my family,” Devon felt the surge of anger in him once more.

“He was going to kidnap her…” Hope whispered softly.

“I didn’t give him the answer he wanted,” he supplied tonelessly.

“I heard the crash…you knocked something over when you fell.”

“How were you close enough to hear that?” He asked, trying to get back to the beginning.

Hope closed her eyes, sighing thickly. “I run in the evenings, usually after work. And I run in this old world part of Defiance Point. I’ve run here for a couple years, the house I’m sharing is just outside this area. So I’m familiar with…with things…around the homes. You moved in about a year ago. I saw the renovations. I talked to the person installing the security on the gate. There was ever only one large black car under the carport. The gates were always locked at night,” she outlined things in her memory.

Devon felt his brows arch, impressed at her observations.

“When I came around the corner tonight, all that was off. He parked his car and left it running by the back door. The house was dark and your door was broken,” Hope dragged two sets of fingers through the short, thick hair. “I…went inside and heard you arguing then the crash. It…it didn’t feel like a robbery, so that meant he was after something else. I heard you moaning so I knew he left you alive…” She met his eyes and shrugged. “Logic…he went upstairs, so I went up the back stairs…and I got there first,” she looked down at the little body curled against the pillow. “She’s tiny…I wrapped her in the blanket and went back to the kitchen. She woke up enough for me to tell her we were playing hide and seek…and that she wasn’t to speak to anyone but me or daddy.”

“I can’t thank you enough for that, Hope. Sincerely…”

“Her mother?”

“Maggie died when Mina was six months old…cancer…”

“I’m sorry,” Hope whispered.

“She won’t remember…that’s one pain I can spare her in her life,” he said quietly.

“What did he want from you?” Hope asked carefully, taking a mental inventory of the man with his head back on the cushioned chair. His hair was a dirty blond and his eyes a light brown. He had a shadow forming and she knew from his hands on her shoulders, he was strong beneath that button down shirt and casual slacks.

“A hotel in Seattle. He wanted me to bow out so his people could buy it,” he said flatly. “I should have been smarter,” he shook his head, his hand up and rubbing the back of his head with a wince.

“He hit you…” Hope was out of the bed, ignoring the lack of clothing, she moved to his side. “Let me see…” her fingers were gentle, parting the hair and biting her lip. “Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Under the cabinet in the bathroom,” he turned his head, watching the expanse of long leg, the barest hint of lace peeking out at the hem of his tee shirt. She walked toward him, head bent and hand rummaging in the white kit she set on the table beside the chair.

“Hold still…this might sting…” she warned, dabbing gently at the dried blood. “Not deep enough for stitches…but you might not wash your head for a day or so,” she dropped the gauze and picked up a fresh piece, dousing it with antiseptic before dabbing up more of the blood. “It’s about an inch long…”

“Nursing your career?” He asked casually.

“Good grief, no…I had a couple brothers who were always in need of first aid, though. I’m an admin. I was just offered a job with the resort,” she shared her information excitedly, carefully keeping her voice low. “They’re opening an office to help people financially plan their futures and use their money wisely. It’s an amazing opportunity for me. I was getting terribly bored at the bank.” She gathered the things and carried them back to the bathroom, returning and trying to recall where she’d left her clothing. “I really should be going.”

“It would be best if you didn’t,” Devon said after a few seconds of silence. “If the police are looking for you, it would be more convincing if you were here.”

“But I don’t live here,” she pointed out, hands flying in the air. “I live with a couple of crazy people bent on driving me insane with late teen hormones!” One palm few to her mouth.

“A problem with room mates?” Devon asked cautiously.

“Don’t mind my mouth,” she murmured, shaking her head. “This is the same mouth that said don’t go into the haunted house.”

“What did you expect to find in the haunted house?” He asked, standing up and moving carefully towards her. A gleam sparked in his eyes, lighting up the amber color in the dim room.

Hope swallowed and backed up a step, coming against the wall. “Oh...you know…the usual…vampires…werewolves…” she mumbled, frowning at the golden edges to his eyes. “Just…stories I make up when I run…”

“The room on the other side of Mina is finished being remodeled, Hope,” he said easily, taking her palm and leading her into the hall.

“Exactly why did I have to tell them I was your wife?” Bare toes flinched a little on the cold hardwood beneath them.

“One would be to preserve your reputation,” he said evenly.

“My…in this day and age?” She choked a little. “The truth…”

“Would have you entering a house without permission and admitting to smacking the guy with the pan, Hope,” he pointed out, looking down at her expression. “The other reason is selfish. The people I’m working with to get the hotel deal in place are a little on the rigid side and I flat out don’t want the grief.”

“If…if you’re working with them, aren’t they aware you’re not married?” She returned, clearing her throat to try and get her voice closer to its normal self.

“I’ll think of something for that one…whirlwind romance kind of thing,” he told her tapping the light switch near the door.

“It’s beautiful,” Hope stepped away from him. A huge walk in closet, a private bath and nice furniture, she mused, thinking of the things she’d pieced together in her little room. “Can’t have really nice things with roommates…you’re just never sure someone won’t borrow stuff…”

“Have you always had roommates?” He watched her shrug as she wandered around the room. She looked up and pulled on the heavy drapes until the full length thick windows were bared on the other side of the bed.

“A sister…parents with little money or time…friends…it’s hard to afford a place of your own here,” she licked her lips and faced him. “You’ll let me stay here? For how long?”

“A month…maybe two,” Devon shrugged. “Give this stuff time to blow over,” he couldn’t guess her age. He was a little surprised she didn’t bulk at getting Mina to safety or hitting the guy with the frying pan. She only got nervous when she realized he had broken his neck on the way down the stairs. “I might need a favor, though, Hope.”

“Favor?” suspicion immediately filled her frown.

“I have some dinners to attend getting this hotel set up and all the principles pulled together…” He began immediately.

“Oh…and you’ll need someone to take care of Mina,” she breathed, nodding immediately.

“No, I’ll need someone as my wife,” he corrected. “If you don’t have the right clothing, I’ll give you my credit card and you can go shopping. This is very important to me and I don’t want to lose it.”

“I…wife…like a date?” She really hated the height her voice got to when she was surprised.

“Hmmm…a date with my wife…now there’s a concept that could go far towards world peace,” Devon said with a chuckle. “How about talk tomorrow? I think I’m about out of adrenaline tonight and my head is pounding. I’ll get your clothing from the other room. Do you think you could move your clothes or whatever in here tomorrow?”

“I…yes, yes…alright…” Hope figured the evening was filled with surprises and snap decisions. Why not one more? She waited, accepting the shoes and clothes at the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Hope,” Devon pulled the door closed, rubbing his neck and heading down the stairs to his office for a little research before bed.

Hope stood in the center of the large room and quickly grabbed up a pillow off the bed, screaming into the fluffy white rectangle before lowering it enough so her eyes could be seen. She tossed the pillow back to the bed, her voice a low, disbelieving whisper.

“I have a room of my own!” Bare feet that belonged to a ten year old instead of a thirty-four year old ran to the bathroom door, another squeal breaking from behind her palm.

“I have my own master bathroom! With a big soaking tub and walk in shower!” She opened the thick, shiny new frosted glass doors before spinning around and picturing where her things would go.

Her things. Just her things. With no one stealing them or using them and leaving the mess for her to clean up!

She ran through the room and threw herself into the bed, rolling and tangling herself in the blankets once she’d pulled the neatly made up bed apart. She finally lay in the center, breathless and grinning up at the ceiling.