beers. “Can I offer you a drink?” she asked.
“Only if it comes with an explanation as to why you’re entertaining me in my own kitchen. And don’t revert back to the friendship scenario. That won’t cut it.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I figure that’s a given.” He opened the beers and pushed hers across the table to where she’d dropped into one of the padded wrought iron-and-wood dining chairs.
She toyed with her beer, finally taking a tiny sip. “You’re the only one I have to turn to.”
“What about Julie’s father?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t want to be pulled into something between you and your husband.”
“There’s no husband, Cutter. There’s just me and Julie. That’s why I need your help.”
“Why me?”
“Everyone in Dobbin has been talking about you. You’ve won medals for your bravery. You’re used to danger and not afraid of anything.”
Except spending the night in this house with Linney. “Cut to the chase. What have you got yourself and your daughter into?”
“Well, you see, that’s just the thing, Cutter. Julie’s not my daughter. I’ve kind of…Well, it’s just that…” She threw up her hands in a display of frantic frustration. “I sort of kidnapped her.”
Chapter Two
“You sort of kidnapped her? What is that supposed to mean?”
Linney tried to stay calm. “I didn’t set out to do it. The woman at the day-care center called and said Julie was crying hysterically. I went to check on her.”
“Why did the center call you instead of her parents?”
“They tried to reach her father. He didn’t answer his cell phone. Amy—her mother—had put my name on the emergency caller list so the woman who manages the center called me.”
“If you’re on the list, then how is this kidnapping?”
“I said ‘sort of’ kidnapping. You have to pay attention, Cutter.”
“It would be easier if you didn’t talk in riddles. The father must have called you by now to see where his daughter is and when you plan to bring her home.”
“He hasn’t.”
“Then this is simple. Just take Julie home.”
“It’s not quite that simple.”
His eyebrows arched again. “Because…”
“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Julie.”
“She’s already asleep? What did you do, drug her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s exhausted and she’s been through a terrible ordeal over the last few days.”
“A sort-of kidnapping will surely help that.”
“Sarcasm under fire is not the mark of a hero, Cutter Martin.”
“I never claimed to be a hero and we’re not under fire. Not yet, anyway.”
Linney flashed what she hoped was a persuasive look. “Would you just sit down and let me explain?”
“I like standing, and I don’t see how anything you will say can justify a kidnapping—or even a sort-of one.”
Linney studied Cutter. He looked different than he had the last time she’d seen him. Older, harder and, if possible, even more ruggedly handsome. Then, desire had fired in his dark eyes. Tonight his gaze seared into hers accusingly.
His five o’clock shadow was pronounced, his face a mix of taut planes and angles, his muscles strained and pushing against the white cotton dress shirt. The white dress shirt didn’t fit the image she’d carried of him for the last six years, not even with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows.
The rest of him fit the image perfectly. The lean, hard body. The tanned skin. The thick locks of dark hair falling across his forehead giving him a devil-may-care look and a sexiness that wouldn’t quit.
Linney took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then pushed her back against the slats of the chair. “Julie’s mother drowned last Friday. Amy Colley. You may have read about it in the newspaper. It happened in Green’s Harbor. That’s a small town on the bay about twenty miles south of Houston.”
“Yeah, I know where Green’s Harbor is. And I read about the accident. Her husband came home from work and found her floating in their backyard swimming pool.”
“That’s what he said. It’s not what happened.”
Cutter’s eyebrows arched. “Oh?”
“He killed her.”
“By he, I assume you are talking about the husband?”
“Yes, Dane Colley. Amy’s husband.”
“And also Julie’s father?”
She nodded.
“I suppose you have proof of your accusation.”
“I don’t have hard evidence, if that’s what you mean. But I know he did it.”
“So now you’re psychic?”
“This isn’t a joke, Cutter.”
“I’m not laughing.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “Didn’t I read that Dane Colley is a homicide detective?”
“Yes, and that’s the worst part of all this. He knows how to play the system and he’s got friends in all the right places. They’ll take him at his word and there won’t be a real investigation into the murder. He’ll just kill my friend Amy and get away with it—unless someone stops him.”
“Did you talk to the Green’s Harbor Police Department about your suspicions?”
“I tried. I gave the clerk a statement and he said I’d hear from one of the detectives. That was two days ago. I’ve called several times since then as well. No one’s called me back. I also called the news department of several of the local TV channels. They told me they’d need more than groundless suspicions to run a story.”
Cutter walked to the refrigerator and retrieved a couple more beers. He opened them both and set one in front of Linney. “Only two left,” he said. “I’m not sure that will get us through this explanation.”
“You asked for the facts.”
“I’m still waiting for the main one. Why is the daughter
