CHAPTER 6

Ford would have left a half hour ago if he hadn’t seen Gemma among the crowd at the Stillwater Inn. Samuel was throwing an elaborate party at his latest haunt. Towering fountains. A crystalline pool. Servants with trays of tonic water. Masseuses. Pedicurists at the feet of the wealthy. Fake laughter completed the orgy. It didn’t seem to matter that a man had been murdered in one of the inn’s rooms. Unless something about that was significant. Why had Samuel chosen this venue for his event?

From his hiding spot behind a thick island of shrubs and blooming flowers, Ford watched a woman lean back on her lawn chair and arch her back as she poured a bottle of tonic water over her body. Did she think it would make her live forever?

Having watched Gemma talking to Samuel for a good forty-five minutes now, he had to stop himself from charging in there and dragging her out by her shiny dark hair. He hadn’t seen her since he left her house a week ago. Thoughts of her had weighed on him. He had to force himself to stay away from Cold Plains Coffee on the off chance he’d run into her. He’d been starved for just the sight of her. To see her here shot him through with disappointment. And something else he was reluctant to name.

The swelling on her nose was gone. The cuts on her face were faint scars and there were no more traces of the bruises. He couldn’t have prepared himself for her beauty.

What was Grayson saying to her? Whatever it was, she loved every word. She glowed. She smiled. She laughed. Had a week been long enough for him to get his tentacles into her? Was she yielding to his will?

Seeing her flash another one of her magnificent smiles at the man, Ford clenched his fists. Was she attracted to him? Grayson was handsome and adept at hiding his psychosis behind a magnetizing personality. People fell for him and his ideology. What would Ford do if Gemma became one of them? What would he do if Grayson wanted her to be more than another Devotee?

Kill him. He pictured his hand clasped at Grayson’s neck, choking the breath out of him. And then, just as quickly, he got hold of himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, hoping this damn party would end soon, or at least that Gemma would leave.

He endured Grayson handing Gemma a business card and her nodding agreement over whatever he said. He endured him kissing her cheek. And then, at last, the party began to thin. Everyone had already eaten the barbecued lamb and about thirty other dishes, all prepared with health in mind. Health and richness befitting a man with power and money. Befitting a town that demanded both from its citizens. Perfection.

Ford slipped away from the cluster of vegetation and headed for the front of the building, stopping before the doors where he wouldn’t miss Gemma. He didn’t want to admit why he felt so driven to have it out with her, only knew there was no stopping him. Watching her had worked him up into a lather. Dressed in an ocean-blue bikini and a matching sheer sarong, she was a vision for his hungry eyes. She’d left her hair down and her sunglasses made her look like a movie star. Just like Grayson.

That’s what ate him up the most. Just watching her stirred a roaring flame of desire in him, and yet she fitted into this crowd so well. She looked as if she belonged among them—the rich and flawless.

She and Lacy emerged from the inn. He should just turn around and leave. Something kept his feet still. His ire. His passion. Emotion he couldn’t control at the moment.

Lacy pointed him out. Gemma’s smile faded, though her face still glowed from her afternoon of fun and pampering and Grayson’s sinister ministrations. Nails freshly painted, skin bronzed from the sun, she was striking. Her trim, petite body didn’t have an ounce of fat on it.

“Ford.” Surprise marked her tone.

“Having a nice afternoon?”

She exchanged a glance with Lacy.

“I’ll wait for you in my car,” Lacy said.

“Okay.” Gemma turned back to him. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?” She looked around.

He wouldn’t reveal that he’d followed Bo here. “Are you getting personal invitations to Grayson’s events now?”

“It was a harmless pool party.”

“Yeah. Real harmless. Your ex-husband was murdered here and Grayson had the whole afternoon to work you over.”

“Work…” Her eyes flashed with anger. “He wasn’t working me over.”

“Why’d he give you a business card?”

“You were spying on me?”

“Does he want your money?”

That made her flinch a little. “He talked to me about an investment opportunity.”

“One I’m sure he’ll benefit from. Open your eyes, Gemma. He’s interested in more than your pretty face.” He hoped that was all.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I saw the way you were with him. Are you going to let him give you a tattoo now?” He couldn’t contain himself, and worse, he didn’t understand the degree of his emotion. Why did seeing her enjoying the company of another man bother him so much? The answer taunted him.

It took her a moment to respond, during which she studied him incredulously. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you?”

“That’s ridiculous. Samuel doesn’t tattoo anyone. I’ve heard all the rumors and I don’t believe them. Why do you think Samuel would do that?”

“Who do you think arranged for your bracelet to be planted by Jed’s body?”

She scoffed. “That wasn’t Samuel.”

The way she said his name inflamed him further. An afternoon trapped in Samuel’s disingenuous web had already polluted her rationale. “I keep having to remind myself that you’re new here, so I’ll overlook your ignorance.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Because you’re here, having a great time with that…killer.”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t you think that’s pushing it?”

“The rumors are true, Gemma. People do get his tattoos. His Devotees are brainwashed to follow him. And if he decides they aren’t perfect or if they disagree with him, they disappear. Sometimes they die.”

A long silence passed while she absorbed that. “Why do you care so much?”

Her question stopped him short. “Why do I care that you’re enchanted by a psychopath?”

“Samuel isn’t a psychopath.”

He should have expected her to deny Grayson was anything but a savior. “Stop saying his name.”

“You’re jealous.”

He ignored that. “It means nothing to you that the rumors are all true?”

She hesitated. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“What proof do you have?”

“Dead bodies keep piling up and Grayson is behind every single one of them. One way or another.”

“That’s not proof. That’s your opinion.”

“In this case, my opinion happens to be right. I don’t need proof. I’ve seen enough to know what he’s capable of.”

She considered him with new insight. “I’ll ask you again. Why do you care so much?”

About her. That’s what she was asking. He didn’t know if she believed him about the murders and she wasn’t going to tell him. She wanted to know if he cared. When the answer—yes—came into his mind, a trapped feeling quickly followed. He did care. He cared enough to let temptation overrule. Except, he could never forget how it felt to lose someone he loved, and he couldn’t risk that again.

“I care about anyone who falls prey to Samuel Grayson,” he said at last.

The inquiring look in her eyes clouded with disappointment. “I’m not your problem anymore, Ford. If I decide to see Samuel, I’ll see him.” She started walking toward Lacy’s Mercedes sedan.

Ford caught up to her. “Gemma. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“That’s not your call to make.”

She was upset because he hadn’t told her he cared the way she hoped. Just when she was about to go around the back of the parallel-parked sedan, he grasped her arm and eased her to a stop.

“Gemma…” So much confusing emotion jumbled up his mind that he couldn’t organize it all. “He’s dangerous.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

Somehow he had to convince her. “You haven’t noticed anything strange? Nothing? No matter how small?”

With that she averted her head. She had noticed something.

“Promise me you won’t go near him anymore. No more seminars. No more glamorous parties.”

“I like the seminars. They help me.”

“I know they do.” Under false perceptions. “Can’t you find a therapist instead?”

“I don’t need therapy.”

The seminars were a form of therapy. “Then buy some self-help books. Just don’t go near Grayson anymore.”

She searched his eyes. “Why are you so jealous?”

“I’m not…” Even as he said it he knew it was a lie. “All right. I am. I would be jealous of any man who makes you laugh the way Grayson made you laugh today. But that has nothing to do with why I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

A smile reserved only for him dazzled her face. The light reached her eyes and he was captivated.

“Stop doing that,” he said.

That only rewarded him with an all-out, megawatt smile.

She was killing him.

Putting her hand on his chest and moving closer, she said huskily, “You know what I think?”

He was afraid to ask.

She slid her other hand onto his chest and pressed her body against his. “I think—” her hands ran up over his shoulders and he thought he’d die right then “—you’re afraid of what this means.”

“What’s that?”

Rising up onto her toes, she pressed her warm, soft lips to his. “That.”

Unable to resist her, he wrapped his arm around her and held her head as he kissed her the way she’d encouraged him to. When he finished, it took all of his willpower to release her and step back.

“Stay away from Grayson,” he said, her sultry expression making it exceedingly difficult for him to turn and walk away.

* * *

As though hypnotized, Gemma got into Lacy’s car, sitting in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield, still reeling from that kiss. The sun was low in the sky but the clear day was still bright and warm, adding to the array of awe singing inside her.

“That man’s got it bad for you,” Lacy said.

“Huh” was all she could muster.

“I mean, I knew he liked you, but…whoa. I’ve never seen a man kiss a girl like that.”

“Yeah.”

“Hot sex is one thing, but that…that is something different, honey.”

That brought her out of her hypnosis. “What?”

“He’s madly in love with you.”

“No, he isn’t!”

“Yes, he is. And you’re in love with him.”

“I am not.” She swatted her hand through the air with the ridiculous idea, while anxiety churned her stomach sour.

“Neither of you knows it yet, that’s all.” Lacy chuckled. “It’s just like the movies.”

“You said he had too much baggage.”

“That was before I saw him kiss you.” Lacy drove away from the inn. “And I’d like to see you happy, Gemma.”

She believed that’s what Lacy genuinely wanted, but falling in love with Ford wasn’t a smart thing to do. Neither was getting pregnant…

Panic stirred her anxiety to a new level. She hadn’t gotten her period this month. If she was pregnant, she couldn’t depend on Ford to be there for her.

Oh, God, what if she was…?

“It could be worse,” Lacy said as she drove. “You could be dealing with Alan.”

Gemma didn’t miss the subtle confession. “What’s going on with him?”

“He’s mad that I went to this party without him. He wasn’t invited. Samuel made it clear this was invitation-only. And Alan had to work anyway. I don’t know why he’s so mad.”

“Doesn’t he work for Samuel?”

“He doesn’t report directly to him.”

“What does he do?” Gemma hoped to get an answer out of her this time.

Lacy shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “Probably something over at the community center.”

“You mean you don’t know what he does for Samuel?”

“He supports the community center.”

Her vagueness made her suspicious. “Why did you go to the party if your boyfriend had such a big problem with it?”

“Are you kidding? Turn down an invitation from Samuel? No way!”

“What would he do if you politely declined? Kill you?” Gemma laughed halfheartedly. She wasn’t actually sure the answer would be no.

“No, but he might run me out of town. I wouldn’t be able to go to the seminars anymore. I’d be an outcast.”

Run her out of town? Apprehension clamped down on her hope that nothing was wrong with Samuel and the sanctuary she’d found in Cold Plains. “For not going to a party? What if you were in the hospital?”

“Having to go to the hospital would be worse. Samuel hates illness of any kind. We have to stay healthy.”

That sounded terrible. Did Lacy hear herself? And who encompassed the we she’d referenced? “Are you serious? He’d run you out of town if you didn’t do what he expected or got sick?”

“I’ve heard rumors, that’s all.”

Gemma went still. Lacy was backpedaling now. Surely Ford couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be. The seminars. What would she do without them? Cold Plains couldn’t turn out to be something different than what she’d seen when she’d first arrived. It couldn’t. “You believe them?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard people…” Her voice trailed off.

“I’ve heard similar rumors, too, Lacy. People have been locked in the basement of the community center, and there’ve been some murders linked to Cold Plains. Some say Samuel is responsible.”

If he decides they aren’t perfect or they disagree with him, they disappear. Sometimes they die…

“You’ve been listening to Ford too much. I mean, Ford is against Samuel, and Samuel cares about you.”

Did he? She was beginning to wonder. Maybe what Lacy really meant was Samuel had targeted her. But for what? To be his next Devotee?

Is that why Lacy was so vague when she talked about Alan? Was he a Devotee? Was she? Gemma studied her friend as she tried to grasp the ramifications. It would explain why Lacy kept warning her about Ford, and why the rumors frightened her. They were true.

And yet, Lacy was desperate to hang on to the seminars and what she must see as an elite membership to Samuel’s inner circle.

“I just can’t see Samuel doing those things.” Lacy shook her head. “He’s a wonderful, positive influence on this town. On me. We can’t believe everything we hear.”

A short while ago, Gemma would have agreed. It was so implausible that Samuel could be anything other than what he appeared to be, a good and honest man. She could see the inconsistencies now. Lacy was afraid of the rumors, but only because of what she’d lose if they were true and she fell victim to them. Gemma felt a rift begin to form. If Lacy was a Devotee, how could they remain friends?

Looking over at her as she pulled into the driveway and stopped, Gemma wanted to ask her more questions, reassure herself that her fears were unfounded, convince her not to follow the wrong path.

“Would you like to come in for a while?”

“I have to get home,” Lacy dispelled that possibility. “The sitter is waiting for me and I can’t wait to show my girls what I bought before I came to pick you up for the party. Take a look.” She reached behind the passenger seat and came back with a shopping bag. “I felt like you today, spending money frivolously. But I couldn’t pass these up.”

Gemma opened the bag to see two pairs of tiny bright-red shoes with enough sparkles to delight any three-year-old. “They’re going to love them.”

In light of Lacy’s joy, Gemma lost her ambition to talk more about Samuel.

“Pick me up tomorrow night and I’ll tell you all about it,” Lacy said.

“Sure.” The words she felt drawn to say got tangled in a yarn ball in her throat.

Deciding to table her questions for now, she got out of the car and waved. Lacy waved back and drove the Mercedes out of the driveway.

Gemma went into her house, putting her beach bag down next to the door and heading for the stairs to go up and take a shower. It was so nice to be home and not be afraid that Jed was going to pop out of nowhere and attack her.

The doorbell stopped her, giving her a jolt. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Reminding herself that she didn’t have to be afraid anymore, she walked to the door. Maybe Lacy had come back.

She looked through the peephole. Definitely not Lacy. She didn’t recognize the trim, average-height man standing there. He held a laptop case and was dressed in jeans and a light blue short-sleeved shirt. His hair was cut short and neat. Nothing about him seemed menacing.

She opened the door a crack, ready to slam it shut if she had to.

“Ms. Johnson?” he asked.

He knew her name.

“I’m David Retting. I’m a desk clerk over at the Stillwater Inn where your ex-husband stayed. May I talk to you?” He glanced around him as though fearing he’d be seen.

“How do you know my name?”

“I read about your ex-husband in the paper, and I heard your bracelet was found at the scene and that you were being questioned in connection with his murder. I know for a fact you didn’t do it.”

“How?” Alarm and hope collided in her.

She looked down at the laptop case and let him in.

Going into the kitchen, he put the laptop case down and went about removing the laptop. “I was working the night Jed Johnson was killed.”

“Why haven’t you gone to the police?”

He booted up the laptop. “This is Cold Plains, Ms. Johnson. Sometimes the cops can’t be trusted.”

“I don’t understand.” Then she took a closer look at the laptop. As the screen came to life, she recognized the background picture. “That’s Jed’s laptop!”

He opened Windows Explorer and stopped to face her. “Ma’am, I could be killed for what I’m about to show you. I didn’t have to come here, but I did. After I read that article, I knew I had to.”

“Where did you get that laptop?”

He hesitated. “I stole it.”

“From Jed’s hotel room?”

He nodded. “I’m the one who called in his murder. I’m the one who found him. Now, I know how bad this is going to sound, but I frequently watch guests and find the ones who have money. I was going to wait until Mr. Johnson left his room, but one time I walked by and the door was open. I saw this here laptop and decided to take it. I put it in my car before the cops arrived.”

“You stole…” She gaped at him. “How could you? Steal from a dead person?”

“I don’t expect you to understand. Times have been hard for me. Stealing’s kept food on my family’s table.” He faced the computer and shook his head. “I’ve given this a lot of thought and I just can’t keep this a secret. I’ve got to do what’s right.”

Gemma normally wasn’t the kind to forgive anyone for taking what didn’t belong to them, but this man had an odd sort of honor about him. She watched as he opened a video file.

A dim clip began to play. Jed’s face appeared. Part of a bed was visible behind him. Some closed drapes. His hotel room. A knock brought him to his feet and he disappeared from the camera’s view. Muffled voices followed and then a hard thud. After a few minutes of shuffling, she glanced at David.

“Keep watching.”

She did. The silhouette of a man appeared briefly, and then vanished. Seconds later, David appeared and the video clip ended when he closed the computer.

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you see him?”

“No.”

“We have to go to the police.”

“No. No police. Please. I came to do what’s right. I beg you not to reveal my identity to anyone. You can call the cops as soon as I leave.”

“You stole my ex-husband’s laptop.”

His head bowed as though he was gathering his wits. “Ms. Johnson, you may not know the kind of people who are running this town, so I’m going to warn you. When this video file is discovered, some very bad people are going to want to stop it from reaching anyone who can identify the killer. I risked my life coming here.”

Gemma stared at him. Everything Ford said must be true. She could no longer deny any of it. “Samuel?”

“He’s behind it all. The disappearances. The murders. That Jane Doe case Ford is investigating? I’ll bet he’s got something to do with it.”

Rubbing her arms, Gemma wandered to her back patio door and looked outside. Just when she thought she was safe again, this happened.

“You’d better go,” she said.

“I need your word, Ms Johnson.”

“I won’t reveal your identity.”

After a long sigh of relief, he said, “Thank you.” A few seconds later, she heard the front door close.

Facing the laptop again, she replayed the video. She still couldn’t see enough of the man to identify him. There was only one thing she could do. Only one person she could turn to. Unfortunately, he was also the one person she shouldn’t be close to right now.

* * *

When Gemma opened the door, Ford devoured the sight of her in a denim dress and no shoes. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders and her beautiful brown eyes roamed all over him, pausing on his badge before falling to the carry-on-sized suitcase beside him on her front porch.

After receiving her call, he’d known he wouldn’t be leaving her alone. Once word got out that there was a recording of Jed’s murder, Grayson would have his henchmen combing the town for it. That was his reasoning. His heart had another story. It didn’t help that she had accurately assessed him after Grayson’s party. He was afraid of what she meant to him. He was afraid she’d mean too much if he allowed it. Fortunately, his heart didn’t make his decisions for him.

Wordlessly, she made room for him to enter. He put his luggage just inside the door and went into the kitchen where the laptop was. After watching the clip, he had to agree with Gemma. The image of the man was too dark.

He shut the computer down and faced her. “Why don’t you tell me who gave it to you?” She’d refused to on the phone.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He asked me not to.”

“A man steals a laptop from a dead man and you want to protect him?”

She explained how David Retting had entered the room and found Jed. He’d taken the computer to sell it so he could feed his family. “And now he’s afraid.”

Ford didn’t care if it was her ex-husband’s computer, stealing was wrong.

“He didn’t have to come forward,” she argued.

No, he didn’t.

“It was the desk clerk at the Stillwater,” Ford said. “That’s who took the computer.” It wasn’t that hard to figure out.

At her startled look, he added, “He called in the murder.”

“Oh.” Warmth danced in her eyes.

“What’s he afraid of?”

“Samuel.”

“He’s afraid Grayson will find out he had the recording and gave it to you?”

She nodded.

Something was different about her. She wasn’t defending Grayson anymore. “Do you believe him?”

“Yes.”

Hearing her say that should make him feel a lot better. It did, but not in a way that made him comfortable. She was on his side now. No longer would he have to butt heads with her regarding Grayson’s cult. Instead, he’d have to fight even harder not to touch her.

“It would probably be best if you continue to behave the way you have,” he said. “The hotel clerk is right. We don’t want anyone to find out about the recording.”

“Okay.”

“Keep going to the seminars.”

“What if Samuel invites me to another party?”

As much as he hated the idea, he said, “You’ll go. Don’t even tell Lacy. By now you must know she’s one of them.”

“I haven’t seen a D on her hip and she hasn’t said she’s gotten one.”

“I know she’s your friend, Gemma, but you can’t trust her. You have to assume her first allegiance is to Samuel Grayson.”

Reluctantly, she nodded. “What are we going to do with the recording?”

“I know someone who might be able to help us.”

All they had to do was leave town without anyone knowing. Or following. It would keep him busy and his mind off Gemma. For now. Living with her again didn’t fill him with an abundance of confidence.