Because You're Mine Read online

  She still needed to talk to Barry about his mother’s misconceptions.

  Patricia stood. “I think we’ll head for bed.” Without offering any acknowledgement to Alanna, she held out her hand to her husband. “Come along, Richard.”

  He rose obediently, but his gaze lingered on Alanna. She wished she could believe he saw her only as his new daughter-in-law, but after Grady’s comments and Patricia’s rage, she wondered if he saw her as a schemer as well.

  “Where are they staying?” she asked Barry.

  “They have a suite in the tower wing,” he said. “You haven’t been over there yet.”

  “Is there room for my band there?” Not that her in-laws would welcome her intrusion.

  He shook his head. “It’s just one bedroom, living room, bathroom, and small kitchenette. A self-contained suite.”

  There was so much of this huge place Alanna hadn’t seen. She was going to have to go exploring at the first opportunity. The big old house whispered of secrets, and she suddenly couldn’t go to bed without clearing the darkness from her brain. She needed her nightly walk. Mostly, she just wanted out of the oppressive atmosphere his parents had brought with them.

  She stood. “I believe I’ll take a stroll.”

  Barry was pulling out his laptop, but he paused to glance up. “I’d better go with you.”

  “You should be getting your work done. I’ll be fine. I won’t go by the lagoon.”

  He frowned. “Put on bug spray. The mosquitoes will carry you off.” He put his nose back toward the computer screen.

  Through the screen door she could hear the crickets and katydids and some other sound she couldn’t identify. Barry had once said something about tree frogs. Perhaps that was the strange, almost musical tone she heard.

  She spritzed herself with the bug spray she found on a shelf in the entry, then flipped on the porch light. Almost at once, moths and other flying insects raced for the dim glow. She stepped through the creaking screen door onto the porch. The moistness of the night breeze touched her skin with a refreshingly clean touch.

  She paused on the top step while her eyes adjusted to the dark ahead of her in the yard. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, at least not without a flashlight. She wouldn’t be able to see her hand in front of her face. She started to retreat for a flashlight when the moon came out from behind the clouds and touched the trees and shrubs with a faint glow.

  Good. The thought of going back inside didn’t appeal. She stepped down onto the brick walk and walked along the flowerbeds in front of the mansion. In the night, she couldn’t see the peeling paint or crumbling brick. She could almost imagine she was a Southern belle strolling the yard in her hoop skirt.

  She heard the sound of a motor, then headlamps swept the grass before the vehicle stopped in the laneway. She paused and strained to see in the dark. The lights went out, a door opened, and a man emerged from the shadows. She took a step back until he drew near enough that she recognized the police investigator, Detective Adams.

  “Is there something new in the case, Detective?” she asked, brushing a mosquito from her arm.

  He stopped two feet from her. “I hear Jesse Hawthorne is coming to work for you.”

  “Righto. As our percussionist.”

  Adams switched his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. “I want you to keep an eye on Hawthorne. See if he’ll open up to you. Trust makes people want to confess sometimes.”

  “He doesn’t remember,” she reminded the detective.

  His teeth flashed white in the dark. “So he says. I’m not sure I buy it. And why did he even take drumming lessons? Our psychologist says sometimes people deal with guilt by taking on the persona of the one they killed. He might be trying to become Liam Connolly.”

  Chills rippled down her back and gooseflesh rose on her arms. “That would make him flipping crazy.”

  “Like I said, keep an eye on him. If he’s really trying to slip into your husband’s shoes, he’ll cozy up to you.”

  “Could someone else have planted that bomb?” she asked. “Just before my wedding, you mentioned Jesse might have enemies. Maybe someone was trying to kill him.”

  The detective shrugged. “I’m checking out every angle. He was fired for sexual harassment. The victim might have hated him enough to hire someone to snuff him out.”

  Acid burned her throat. A man like that lived while Liam had died. Life wasn’t fair. “You have to find out who did this.”

  “I plan to.” Adams said. “You’ll let me know if you learn anything?”

  “Yes.” Her hand went to her belly. Her baby would grow up without a father because of Jesse Hawthorne. He’d either killed Liam himself, or his actions had caused someone to hate him enough to do away with him.

  Adams’s big hand came down on her shoulder. “Try not to worry. It’s not good for the baby.” He lowered his arm to his side. “I’ll be in touch.” He turned and melted into the darkness.

  Even though the night was warm, Alanna shivered. She didn’t want to think that Liam might be lying in his grave because of a suicide attempt, but the thought of an angry woman planting a bomb under him wasn’t any better.

  She wandered down closer to the waving sea grass until she stood at the edge of the lapping waves. Water calmed her and made her think she stood on the shores of the Atlantic in her homeland. Ireland was in her blood, her bones. Her fingers itched to hold her fiddle and play a mournful tune that would whisk her to Hibernia in her mind.

  The wind sighed through the tall grass and brought the salt scent to her nose. Liam should be here with her with his arm across her shoulders and his thick brogue in her ears.

  “Alanna?”

  For a second she thought her daydreaming had conjured up Liam, then she recognized Barry’s big shoulders and shock of golden hair. She put on a smile. “Barry, you startled me.”

  She heard a rustle, a slither, then he grabbed her arm and yanked her from the water. The next thing she knew, they were running up the slope. Water splashed behind her. “What was that?” she asked, panting. “The gator?”

  Barry slowed their pace. “Pete about had you for dinner.”

  “In the seawater?” She’d thought she was safe.

  “He sometimes moves around.”

  “In seawater?”

  “It’s brackish here, not fully salt water. Gators move through brackish water.”

  A shiver ran up her spine, and she studied his face. “Did you come out to throw him a kitten?”

  His lips tightened. “No.”

  She didn’t know if she believed him. Was it the air of danger under the surface that drew her? She didn’t want to experience the warmth in her belly when she looked at him or the racing of her pulse when he touched her hand. Not a man like him.

  She stopped at the top of the hill and turned back to watch the moon glimmering on the water. “It’s such a beautiful place to hold such danger.” When she tried to tug her hand out of Barry’s, his fingers tightened. Her desire to pull away melted. He was her husband now. It was all right to enjoy the contact of skin on skin, to relish not being alone. She had no right to judge him.

  Barry had feelings for her, and she longed to return them, to put the pain of Liam’s death behind her. She stared up at him in the moonlight. “You’ve been so good to me, Barry.”

  His fingers brushed her cheek. “I love you, Alanna. I’ve always loved you.”

  “Me or the fact that I look like Deirdre?” She blurted the question that had been lingering in her heart every time she saw the portrait.

  “Where’d that come from?”

  “Grady says all the men in your family are obsessed with Irish women who look like her. Is that true?”

  His lips tightened. “You have to be careful of anything Grady tells you. It’s just a painting. I love you for much more than your beauty. I love your passion for life, the way you care about other people and animals, even the way you run around barefoot.”

  �
��And your desire to marry me hadn’t anything to do with how I look like Deirdre?”

  His gaze narrowed. “I’ll not lie to you and say I didn’t notice. I’ve got eyes in my head. You’re a beautiful woman, and it is almost uncanny how much you look like her, but it wasn’t what made me fall in love with you. Satisfied?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me how your parents would react to my appearance?”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t important.”

  “She accused me of trying to entrap you. Have you told them the baby isn’t yours?”

  “My mother can be a little overwhelming, but they won’t be here long before they’re off on another trip. She was just shocked. Tomorrow she’ll be fine.”

  She wouldn’t get anything else out of him. And maybe it was enough. Maybe tomorrow would be better. “Did you get your work done?”

  He brushed the hair back from her face with a tender hand. “No, but I worried that you might stumble into trouble. It appears I was right. Let’s go in. You’re shivering.”

  “You go ahead and I’ll be along. I want to enjoy the night a bit longer. I’ll stay away from the water.”

  He bent and brushed a kiss along her brow. “Don’t be long.”

  She watched him turn and walk along the brick path to the house. Thanks to Barry she was in a lovely old house and her baby was secure. If not for him, she’d be wondering how she was going to make enough money to support her baby. She might have had to give up the band and live with the Connollys after all. Barry had saved her. Surely that was more important than his affection for an alligator.

  He disappeared around the side of the house, and she wandered through the garden. A garden by moonlight held its own brand of magic. The scents floated from everywhere, and light gilded the blooms with gold. The summerhouse loomed at the end of the garden, but she knew better than to poke around there in the dark.

  She retraced her steps to go inside. Passing the roses, she felt a hard shove between her shoulder blades. The blow knocked her forward. Her legs moved fast to avert a fall, but a slight dropoff unsteadied her even more. She put her hands out. She had to protect the baby.

  She hit the ground on her right shoulder, then she was rolling down a steep slope that she hadn’t even known was there. Thorns tore at her bare arms and tangled in her hair. She tried to protect her stomach, but her body slammed from one spot to another and gathered speed as she tumbled down the hill.

  Her head rammed into a large tree at the base of the hill and she came to a stop. Crumpled into a ball, she lay stunned with the world spinning around her. Her hands roamed her belly, but she couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything. Then her knee cried out, and her shoulder groaned. The pain of her abrasions began to penetrate her numb state.

  Get up. She had to get up. Make sure the baby wasn’t hurt. Groaning, she got onto her hands and knees and shook her head to clear it. Her blurry vision kept her from recognizing exactly where she was, though she saw trees marching off into total darkness to her right. The woods. She’d rolled down to the base of the woods.

  She managed to claim her feet, though her legs trembled. Something trickled down her arm, most likely blood. Her hands cupped her belly. “Please, Lord, let the baby be all right,” she mumbled. There were no cramps, at least not yet. Maybe the baby was unharmed, but she needed to see a doctor and make sure.

  Who had shoved her? She shuddered and turned to stare up the hill, an impossible slope to climb in her state. A figure appeared at the top, then started down. Out of the darkness, a man called her name. In Liam’s voice.

  She strained to see. It was him. She recognized that walk, the way he held his head. Her knees crumpled, and darkness claimed her.

  Seventeen

  The baby. Alanna swam out of the darkness, her hand going to her belly. She struggled to sit up.

  “Lie still until the doctor sees you,” said a male voice to her side.

  Liam’s voice. Surely it was. She strained up, then opened one eye and stared into the face hovering over hers. Jesse, not Liam. Slumping back, she blinked against the moisture in her eyes. What had she expected—that Liam had come back from the dead?

  “How do you feel?” Jesse crouched over her. He brushed mosquitoes from her arms. She still lay at the base of the tree.

  Her hands roamed her stomach. “I-I don’t know.” Her arms and face throbbed from scratches, but she had no cramps or pain in her stomach. The baby was all that mattered to her. The other pain was a minor irritation.

  Jesse brushed the hair back from her face. “The ambulance is on its way.”

  “Where is Barry?”

  “In the house, I assume. I rang 9–1–1 on my cell.”

  “Help me sit up,” she said. The detective’s warnings rumbled around in her head. This man might have killed her husband. Was he trying to become Liam? The inflections in his voice suggested it, but she told herself to show no fear.

  Had he shoved her down the hill?

  “You need to lie still.”

  She pushed away his restraining hand. “I must get to the house.” She managed to sit up, and her head swam. She waited until the spinning stopped, then struggled to her feet with his help. Before she could take a step, he swung her into his arms and started up the hill with her.

  The scent of spearmint on his breath smelled like the same gum Liam used to chew. “It’s too steep,” she protested. “I can walk.”

  He ignored her protest and continued to lug her up the slope with his breath growing more labored. When he reached the top, he paused to draw in a few deep lungfuls of air before heading toward the house.

  “I can walk,” she said again, more convinced now that it was true.

  Against her will, her fingers touched the curls at the base of his neck as she hung on for dear life. Liam’s had felt just this soft and springy. She jerked her hand away.

  “Almost there,” he gasped.

  “Put me down and go get Barry,” she commanded. All she wanted was to get away from this man who reminded her too much of Liam.

  They reached the porch steps and he carried her up them to the front door, which he banged with his foot. Insects dive-bombed them from the porch light. The breeze changed direction, and she smelled his cologne, Irish Tweed, just like Liam used to wear. The scent angered her. How dare he think he could ever hope to match Liam? There was no one like her husband.

  His wearing the cologne convinced her of all the detective had said. “Put me down!” she said in her fiercest voice.

  He stopped banging the door with his foot and glanced down at her before carefully allowing her to gain her feet. It was a mistake. Her head spun again, and she swayed before grabbing his arm for support. She hated that she had to depend on him for any help.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. He opened the door with the other hand and half carried her over the threshold. “Kavanagh!” he shouted.

  Barry appeared in the hallway, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing with my wife?” He rushed toward them. “Give her to me. Alanna, are you all right?” He swept her into his arms and carried her to the living room. “What did you do to her?”

  “She fell down the hill,” Jesse said, following them to the living room.

  Shudders wracked her body, and she couldn’t stop them. “What’s wrong with me?” she stammered through chattering teeth.

  “Shock, I think.” Jesse shoved his hands in his pocket as he stood at the edge of the sofa where Barry laid her.

  Alanna couldn’t bear to look at him.

  She clenched her teeth to keep them from jittering. “Can I have a blanket?” she asked Barry.

  “Of course.” He grabbed an afghan from across the back of a chair and laid it over her. He knelt beside her, and his warm breath caressed her face. He stroked her hair. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

  The warmth enveloped her, but the shivers didn’t stop. No pain in her belly though, and she laid still with her hands protec
tively over her child. She couldn’t lose the only piece she had left of Liam. “I-I think I’m all right.”

  He frowned at her bare feet. “You were outside again with no shoes? You could get snake bit.”

  “You know I hate shoes.”

  From outside, the ambulance screamed up the drive, the siren growing louder until it stopped with a final shriek right outside. Footsteps pounded up the porch then the front door shuddered with a fist pounding it. “Paramedics!” a voice shouted.

  “I’ll let them in.” Jesse disappeared into the hall.

  “What’s he doing here?” Barry asked, still stroking her hair.

  “I don’t know. When I came to, he was standing over me.”

  “Came to? What happened?”

  She stared into his worried face. It was a bit dodgy that Jesse happened to be there right after she’d been pushed, but she couldn’t afford to let Barry forbid Jesse to come on the property—not if she wanted to get to the bottom of what happened to Liam. Could he have pushed her, then played the hero? It made a twisted kind of sense.

  “I fell down the hill,” she said.

  “I should have made you come in.” He tucked the afghan around her better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” The paramedics came rushing in and he stepped back.

  The paramedics checked her vitals and told her nothing serious appeared to be wrong. They bandaged the worst of her cuts and told her to rest. When a worried Barry asked if she should be transported to the hospital, the paramedics glanced to Alanna for input.

  If her fall had damaged the baby, no doctor could fix it. “I think I’m all right,” she said. “But I wouldn’t turn down an ultrasound.”

  “Is it okay if I take her in?” Barry asked.

  The men nodded. “She’s in no danger.”

  When the EMTs left, she realized Jesse had gone as well. On the way to the ER, she reflected on her attack and tried to remember anything in that moment before she fell, but nothing was coming to her. No whiff of cologne, no sense of who her attacker had been.

  Shudders racked her again, but this time they were from knowing a madman was out there.