Covert Kisses. Jane Godman
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made their relationship permanent. His face clouded slightly, and it was clear the question provoked a memory that made him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Cameron shook his head. “It was the one subject on which we couldn’t agree. Yet it was such an important one. Looking back now, I wish—” He broke off, taking a moment to collect his emotions. “Carla didn’t want to stay in Wyoming, and I could never see myself living anywhere else. I wanted the whole fairy tale. Marriage, kids, big goofy dog, family life, all the things my own folks had. Carla wasn’t the maternal type. Her own childhood had been traumatic.” He hesitated, and she sensed this was a big part of who Carla was. Even though she had learned recently that she was related to Carla, she knew nothing about her early life. Clearly Cameron wasn’t ready to go into details. “We could never meet halfway on it. Now, in hindsight, I think if I’d done it her way, upped and left Stillwater, gone to live in a big city, she wouldn’t have been on the lake that night.”
His eyes were twin pools of anguish. There was a trace of guilt in his expression and something more. A plea for reassurance. Carla just went down a notch or two in Laurie’s estimation. Sure, cling to your independence. Stick to your principles. But at the risk of losing a man who loved you to distraction? A man like Cameron Delaney? No, Carla, I can’t understand where you were coming from. Mind you, her rational mind kicked in, let’s not forget we are talking about a likely criminal mastermind...even though Carla may not have known about that facet of his life.
“I’m a great believer in fate. I think there is a time and a place for everything and, while we control some aspects of our destiny, there are other things that are meant to be.” Her hand was still in his, and she clasped his fingers tighter. “You may never know what it was, but it’s possible there is a reason why Carla was meant to be on the lake that night.”
Cameron didn’t reply, but she thought some of the tension went out of his frame. Looking around, Laurie was amazed to see the restaurant was empty and they were the only ones left. A glance at her watch told her it was close to midnight. How had all those hours passed without her being conscious of them? Cameron settled their tab and escorted her out to the car.
When they reached the vacation village, Cameron walked Laurie to her cabin. This was always the tricky part. Make sure he wants to see you again without coming on too strong. For the first time ever, she felt a pang of regret at that necessity. It would be so easy to give in to her instincts right now and invite Cameron in for coffee. To explore where this attraction might take them. Instead, she rose on the tips of her toes, touched her fingertips to his shoulder and pressed a chaste kiss onto his cheek.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.” Determinedly, she ignored the insistent tingle that shimmered through to her nerve endings as her lips brushed his flesh. His delicious scent invaded her nostrils, and she resisted the temptation to press her face into the warm curve of his neck.
His face was in shadow, but she was aware of his eyes probing hers. “Can we do it again?” Somehow she sensed those words didn’t come easy. Cameron was fighting an internal battle. Whether he was winning or losing wasn’t clear.
“I’d like that.”
When he’d gone, she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Years of training had conditioned her. She scrutinized the room, checking for signs that anything might be out of place. The cabin looked exactly as she’d left it. Except for one thing.
In the middle of the table there was a heart-shaped arrangement of dark red roses.
The city of Cody, in neighboring Park County, looked a lot like the city of Stillwater. It had the same wide main street, historic buildings and backdrop of snow-capped mountains. Laurie parked the rental car and looked out at her surroundings, drawing in a deep breath to steady her nerves. In all her years of working undercover, she had never had to make emergency contact with her handler. She supposed there had to be a first time for everything. And these circumstances certainly were unusual. Grabbing the portfolio of pictures that were her cover story together with the paper bag in which she had concealed the flower arrangement, she locked up the car.
When she found the nondescript attorney’s office, she made her way up the steps at the side of the building to the second floor. Moreton, who was leaning back in his chair drinking coffee and reading a newspaper, looked startled when, after a brief knock, she walked into the tiny office he was using.
“Another ten minutes and I’d have been gone.” He indicated the clock on the wall. The arrangement was he would be there for two hours each day from 9 a.m. “How are you?”
“Exactly how did Carla die?” Laurie didn’t want to waste time on pleasantries.
“In a boating accident. You read the file.”
“That’s not what I meant. What was the specific injury that killed her?”
Moreton frowned. “It’s always been assumed she drowned.”
“Assumed? Did you actually read the autopsy report?”
“Laurie, sit down. Take a breath. What’s this all about?”
Instead of doing as he said, she produced the heart-shaped flower arrangement from the paper bag and placed it on his desk. His eyes remained on the flowers for a moment or two, before lifting to her face. His expression was blank. “That was left in my cabin while I was out last night.”
“Someone got into your cabin?” Moreton pulled a pad of paper toward him and flipped it over to a blank page. “Who else has a key?”
“We can check that out later. How they got in is not the most important thing.” Moreton waited for her to continue. “Cameron told me last night Carla had a secret admirer. Someone who sent her a heart-shaped arrangement of red roses every week.”
“And you think whoever sent it was the same person who sent these to you? And that he could have murdered Carla?” Moreton was scribbling notes, following her thought processes fast.
“You have to admit it’s a possibility.”
He remained quiet while he studied the flowers. Laurie knew that look. It meant his analytical mind was weighing every probability. But she caught a glimpse of something else in his expression. A glimmer of acute emotion that looked a lot like excitement. It was gone as soon as it appeared. And it puzzled her. Moreton didn’t do excitement. Didn’t really do emotion. Maybe it had been a long time since he’d come across such an interesting lead with the potential of opening up a whole new case.
“Okay. I agree it’s possible Carla Bryan had a stalker. There’s even a chance she was murdered by the person who was sending her these flowers, and her death was mistakenly written off as an accident. Let’s not rule anything out. The first thing I need to do is what you’ve asked, and double-check the coroner’s report. I’ll let you know the actual cause of Carla’s death.”
“We could also try to find out where these flowers came from and if any were sent to Carla from the same supplier.”
“We?” He raised a brow. “You can’t do any investigating. You are not Detective Bryan of the San Diego Police Department. She hasn’t been around for a while, remember? You are Laurie Carter, children’s storybook illustrator, here in Wyoming on vacation. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk.”
“Okay.” Laurie felt a blush tinge her cheeks. Moreton’s reminder put her firmly in her place. In this investigation, she was powerless. In reality, she didn’t exist. Even her name was fake. She actually was Amy Carter-Bryan. Her middle name was Laurie, and that was what her family called her. She was an undercover detective in the San Diego Police Department. Two years ago her department had worked alongside the FBI on a series of homicides. Laurie and Moreton had collaborated closely on that case.
When Moreton needed someone here in Wyoming to get close to Cameron Delaney, he had