Under Suspicion, With Child. Elle James
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Jet-black hair was longer than what she’d consider regulation for a man in his profession, but then it made him look more dangerous, a rule breaker. And the eyes—
He chose that moment to face her and pin her with his ebony gaze. “I found out something interesting yesterday you might be able to help me with.”
“Me? I’ve been out of this town for close to ten years. I barely know anyone. How could I possibly help?” And she didn’t want to spend any more time than she had to with this man who made her feel strangely off balance.
Leah poked her head through the swinging door. “Better hurry with the food. The natives are restless.”
“You’re busy, let me help you get this food out before your customers start shouting.” He lifted a tray of scrambled eggs and the basket of biscuits and left the room through the swinging doors.
More intrigued than she cared to admit, Jocelyne grabbed the pancakes out of the warmer and the tray of condiments and followed. What had he found and why come to her?
ANDREI STOOD BACK WHILE Jocelyne arranged the food on the buffet, placing serving spoons and spatulas within easy reach. He admired her smooth efficiency and easy smile for the guests, finding himself envious of her attention.
The customers waited patiently in line until she’d finished. Andrei, with less patience than the hungry patrons, stood by the kitchen door, arms crossed over his chest, his toe tapping the wood flooring of the elegant old house. He’d been here for breakfast on one or two occasions, but he wasn’t here about food. He was here on business. Although the scent of bacon and pancakes were making his mouth water.
Finally, Jocelyne stood back and announced, “Help yourselves.” With that she grabbed her hot pads and hurried toward the kitchen, leaving the pretty blond worker to fill glasses.
Andrei held the door for her and as soon as it closed behind them, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Are you familiar with a plant called henbane?”
Jocelyne reached for the color picture of an ordinary-looking plant. “A little. I know that it’s dangerous. A person can die if given a lethal quantity. The pagans used it in Medieval Europe as a painkiller and sometimes as a poison….” She glanced up at him. “Why do you ask?”
“Do you know of anyone who might have access to it?”
Her brows drew together and her teeth chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s not something you can find easily in the States—” Jocelyne froze, her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No way. She wouldn’t.”
“Who wouldn’t what?”
She spun on her heels and flew toward a door at the opposite end of the kitchen, flinging it wide to reveal the entrance to a lower level beneath the house. Before he could stop her, she was racing down the steps into the darkness.
For a split second, panic seized Andrei’s chest and he rushed for the doorway, staring down into pitch black. A light flickered below and Jocelyne’s silhouette appeared.
“Wait.” He took the steps two at a time, catching the bottom step with the edge of his heel, stumbling before he could right himself.
The innkeeper’s red-haired daughter was nowhere in sight, but her footsteps echoed against the damp walls.
In the back corner of the sprawling subterranean room were long tables stretched out beneath fluorescent lights. Jocelyne hurried along the rows of greenery flourishing in the underground greenhouse.
Was she on to something? Had she found his source of the drug used on the four victims of the Seaside Strangler? Andrei hurried to catch up to her.
When she stopped before one plant, her face turned an alarming shade of white. “This is it…” Her voice came out in a whisper and she handed him the sheet of paper, pointing to the plant that was the exact replica of the picture he’d pulled from the Internet. “This is henbane.”
“Well, Ms. Baker. Seems we have a problem.”
“Oh, Mom, why do you have such a dangerous plant?” The self-assured and self-proclaimed independent woman, who’d had Andrei scratching his head since he’d met her, turned a sickly pale green and sank toward the floor in a dead faint.
Chapter Four
Strong, warm arms held her against a solid wall of muscles. Seems she’d been here before. Jocelyne opened her eyes and stared up into dark brown eyes, hooded in the shadows of the overhead lights. “Did I do it again?”
“Uh-huh.” He pushed a strand of her hair away from her face. “You’re not such a good advertisement for a holistic healer.”
“Shut up.” She pushed away from him and attempted to stand. Her knees refused to hold her weight and she fell back into Andrei’s lap. Despite the coolness of the basement’s musty interior, her cheeks heated. “My blood sugar must be low.” Only a healthy breakfast and maybe some dry toast would make her better.
He set her to the side on the cool stone flooring and rose to his feet, extending a hand to her. “How many months along are you?”
In one swift tug, he had her up on her feet.
The rush of air in her face and blood to her legs made her stagger and fall against his chest. “What business is it of yours?”
“A man kinda likes to know a few details when the woman with him faints into his arms. Twice.”
Jocelyne pushed away from him and smoothed a hand over the baby growing inside. “Six months. I’m six months along.”
“And the father?”
“Dead.”
“I’m sorry.” And the bad thing was that he really did look sorry. The grow lights cast a reflection in his dark eyes, turning them to glowing ink.
“Me, too.” She’d just discovered she was pregnant the day before he’d been killed in a subway accident. They’d only been engaged for one night. Before she found out she was pregnant, she’d been considering moving out because the spark wasn’t there anymore for her. Had there ever really been a spark, or had she settled for companionship over coming home to an empty room?
“Jocelyne?” Andrei bent and peered into her face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She pushed a stray hair out of her face, sweeping aside six-month-old memories with the wave of her hand. “Yes, yes. I’m all right.”
His eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her, but he straightened and stared back toward the corner lit by the grow lamps. “Unless you know of another local source of that plant, I’d venture to guess that someone has been harvesting from this garden to drug the victims.”
Jocelyne stared at the lighted corner, uncontrollable cold overwhelming her body, almost as if a hideous creature lurked in the dark corners poised to crawl out after unsuspecting young women. She used to play hide-and-seek down here. Now all she could think of was the monster who could have been sneaking in to steal her mother’s herbs. A shiver shook her so hard, her teeth rattled. “You don’t think my mother’s capable of murder, do you?”
Andrei shook his head. “The victims were all strangled. It takes a lot of strength to strangle someone and then load them into a boat.”
“My mother is strong.” She didn’t know why she was giving him reasons to suspect her mother. The townsfolk already thought Hazel was a nutcase. Had she crossed the line of mild mannered to murderer?
“But she probably doesn’t have the strength it takes to lift a body. No, she’s not the killer, although it doesn’t take a lot of strength to be an accomplice.”
“As much as my mother loves this town, I can’t see her hurting anyone in it. If she is an accomplice to murder, she probably doesn’t know it.”
“Based on our brief acquaintance, I don’t