Double Deception. Terri Reed

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Double Deception - Terri  Reed


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a crisp freshness. But the telltale signs of raindrops still beading on his car reminded Brody of the night before and of what Kate would find when she went back to the house. He stopped in his tracks.

      “Kate?”

      She looked over her shoulder at him, her steps slowing to a halt and her brows drawn together. “Now what?”

      “Did you get everything?”

      Her brows rose. “I didn’t bring anything.”

      “This, maybe?” He held up her purse.

      She snatched it from him. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

      She wouldn’t be thanking him when he told her what he’d discovered. With a pleasureless twist of his lips, he followed her to his cruiser and held open the passenger-side door. She gave him a tight smile and slid in.

      As he headed the car down Main Street, he tried to formulate the best way of saying what needed to be said. But every time he tried to tell her, he couldn’t get the words to form.

      “Okay, out with it.”

      “Excuse me?”

      Kate sighed. “You obviously have something on your mind. You’ve looked like a fish out of water ever since we got in the car.”

      He slanted her a glance. “And how is that, exactly?”

      “You keep opening your mouth to say something, then shutting it tight.” Kate demonstrated with exaggerated movements.

      Brody’s rich laughter filled the cab of the car. Kate sucked in a breath. She liked the sound of his laugh: deep and warm…and inviting. She forced the thought away. She couldn’t let down her guard no matter how pleasing she found the sheriff.

      “So, what is it?”

      Brody sobered, his expression turning grim. A sense of impending doom filled Kate. What could he possibly have to say that would warrant such a reaction? Nothing, she decided, now that they’d determined she wasn’t going to be arrested.

      “How long were you married to your…late husband?”

      She frowned. “Four years.”

      “How do you know Pete Kinsey was his business partner?”

      That seemed like an odd question. “Paul told me after I found an invoice for a piece of office equipment. It had Kinsey’s name on it.”

      He slanted her a quick glance. “You never met Pete Kinsey?”

      She hated the pinprick of hurt needling her. “No. I didn’t even know about him until a year ago. Paul hadn’t invited anyone he worked with to our wedding.”

      He didn’t comment, as his hands gripped and re-gripped the steering wheel.

      “Why?”

      He shrugged, then asked, “How well did you know Paul?”

      An even odder question.

      “As well as one could, I suppose. Paul wasn’t your open and friendly type.” Thinking back over the course of their relationship, she wondered how she’d missed his coldness in the beginning. Or had he been just that good at hiding it?

      “He changed from when you first met him?”

      Unnerved that he’d practically read her thoughts, she replied, “Yes, he did.”

      “He traveled a lot.”

      It wasn’t a question. “Yes. How did you know?”

      Without answering, Brody slowed the vehicle and turned down the narrow dirt drive leading to the house.

      In the bright morning sun, the cottage-style home and surrounding area held a charming appeal. A far cry from her impression last night. The blue-gray shingles, quaint dormer windows edged in white, and the wraparound porch were very welcoming. The shrubs and foliage of the yard held a certain rustic charm. And beyond the bungalow, the beach and frothy waves of the Atlantic Ocean gleamed in the sunlight. It was very picturesque and soothing.

      Kate wished she’d been able to arrive in the light of day rather than the dead of a stormy night. The late flight out of L.A. and the subsequent drive to Havensport had made her arrival untimely.

      She regretted she hadn’t rented a car instead of arranging for ground transportation. But at the time it seemed the best thing since she hadn’t a clue where she was going. Last night, the driver had dropped her off without so much as waiting to see if she’d made it in the house okay, leaving her stranded without any way to get around.

      Brody parked and got out. Just as Kate opened the door, he was there offering her his help. She laid her hand in his. Warmth spread up her arm and around her heart. She hadn’t felt anything but coldness in so long.

      Quickly, she disengaged from him and stepped away. “You didn’t answer my question.”

      “And what question was that?”

      She put her hands on her hips. “How did you know Paul traveled?”

      Brody ran a hand through his dark hair. She watched the motion with a good dose of curiosity. How would his hair feel beneath her hand? Uncomfortable with the course of her thoughts, she averted her gaze and concentrated on the unseen bird singing from high in the large birch tree to the right of the house.

      “I knew your husband.”

      Snapping to attention, she frowned. “You did?” Wariness coiled tight in her chest. She looked at the house and tried to rationalize how they could have met. “He did own the house even if Pete Kinsey lived here. They were business partners, after all.”

      “Not partners, exactly.”

      Apprehension chilled her skin like a cold wind. “Meaning?”

      Brody shifted his feet in a restless gesture before saying, “You see, your husband and Pete Kinsey were, well…”

      “Yes?”

      “Man.” His hard jaw tensed. “I’m botching this up.”

      The wind turned into a full-blown hurricane. Could he have the answers she sought? “What? What should I know?”

      Locking his gaze with hers, Brody stated, “They were the same man.”

      FOUR

      She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t something as ridiculous as that. Relief and disappointment made her laugh. “Excuse me?”

      “Paul Wheeler and Pete Kinsey were the same person.”

      She couldn’t see any humor in his expression, any mirth glinting in his dark eyes, but she couldn’t believe he was serious. “What kind of joke are you trying to play on me, Sheriff?”

      “It’s no joke.”

      “Oh, come on.” She gave a nervous laugh. “You can’t expect me to believe…that…my husband led some sort of…double life.”

      Brody shrugged. “Believe what you will. The facts speak for themselves.”

      “What facts?”

      Shifting his weight to his left leg, Brody asked, “Was Paul tall, about six feet, with gray eyes and blond hair?”

      Mutely, she nodded.

      “So was Pete Kinsey.”

      She scoffed. “Those are your facts?”

      Brody’s mouth tightened. “Pete Kinsey had a tattoo.”

      Kate’s eyes narrowed. “So?”

      “Did Paul?”

      “A lot of people have tattoos”

      “On their left shoulder?”

      Her


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