Because You're Mine(69)

“Dead?”

She nodded. “I think it was a heart attack.” In the distance, she heard a siren approaching. There was no need for the siren or for speed. No one could help Richard now. “I need to let in the paramedics.” She brushed past him.

He trailed her. “I can do it.”

She realized she’d dropped the kitten at some point. The feline wound herself around her ankles and mewed. Scooping her up, she headed for the front door without answering Jesse.

The ambulance came screaming up the drive. Her friends milled around the porch, obviously unaware of what had happened. Alanna stepped through the screen door and told them about Richard before the paramedics came rushing up the porch steps.

“I’ll show them where to go,” Jesse said.

Alanna let him. The thought of facing Patricia’s hatred again made her shudder. She sank onto a rocker on the porch.

Ciara knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Just shaken,” she said, placing her hand over her belly.

“It was a banshee after all, you know,” Ena said.

“You can’t believe that,” Alanna said. “It was a heart attack.”

“Foretold by the banshee,” Ena said. “The legends don’t say the banshee causes the death. Just that it’s a warning.”

Alanna was too tired to make sense of her friend’s superstitions. “Did you see anything when you went exploring?”

Ena shook her head. “We were afraid to go far after we heard Patricia screaming.”

Jesse came back outside. “They’ll be bringing him down.”

From the upstairs window, she heard Patricia’s sobs kick up again. In spite of the hostility between them, Alanna’s heart ached for the woman. Alanna knew the pain of losing the man she loved.

Ciara stood. “I’m going inside. It’s late. Call me if you need me.”

Alanna nodded and said good night to her mates. Only Jesse stayed behind. He pulled another rocker over close. The mosquitoes whined in her ears, and the kitten kneaded her claws in her lap. She rubbed the tiny ears, and the rumble of the kitty’s purr soothed her. Leaning her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes. The warm night was so beautiful, even with the trauma that had gone on.

She’d be resting for just a minute, then go inside.

With her eyes closed, she could imagine it was Liam rocking beside her. Her breathing eased, and her body relaxed. She drifted into slumber.

“Alanna.”

The soft voice in her ear woke her. She kept her eyes closed. Liam would kiss her awake. He always did. She longed for his touch. For him to tuck her hair behind her ears so he could press his lips against her neck and make his way to her lips.

“Honey, it’s time to go to bed.” His fingers slipped her hair behind her ears. His lips left a warm trail on her neck and up to her lips.

Alanna inhaled the sweet aroma of his breath, relished the warm pressure of his lips. Liam had always been her soulmate. She was so lucky.

Then she remembered. The love of her life was lying in a cold grave.

Her eyelids flew open and she stared into Jesse’s face.





Twenty-Nine


Jesse punched his pillow. Morning would be here all too soon, and he hadn’t slept a wink. Every time he closed his eyes, memories flashed through his mind as if played on an old movie reel: Alanna’s first attempt at cooking dinner and her tears when the bangers burned, watching her twist a curl around her finger while she read, her shriek when he threw her in the cold waves on their honeymoon.

No, not their honeymoon. Her honeymoon with Liam. Jesse was finding it harder and harder to keep track of reality. Maybe he didn’t want to. The pleasure of kissing her last night had been exquisite, yet somehow so familiar. If this was what it meant to go crazy, maybe he didn’t want to be sane.

Guilt rose from the depths of his belly. He’d kissed another man’s wife. That was wrong. Even in his rattled state, he knew it was wrong, but he seemed unable to tame his obsession with Alanna. Maybe he needed an exorcism, but that didn’t seem right either. If Liam’s love for Alanna was strong enough to survive the grave, what right did his murderer have to sever it?

He ran his hand through his hair. The decision about what to do wasn’t easy. Maybe he could pick up the pieces of who he was without being around her all the time. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave, not when she’d been attacked twice. She needed his protection, didn’t she? Or was he fooling himself about that too?

When he’d seen the detective at his parents’ house yesterday, he thought Adams was there to arrest him. The more he discovered about himself and Liam, the more he despised himself for what he must have done. Maybe he should turn himself in and get it over with. Not only had he kissed a married woman, but he’d put the moves on the wife of his late best friend. He was scum of the earth.

He rolled over and closed his eyes. No more thinking. It hurt too much.

By the time the sun pushed streaks of light across his floor he’d gotten barely three hours of sleep. A racket outside roused him. He stumbled to the window and glanced into the yard to see workers tearing out windows in the old summerhouse. The contractor’s crew had finally arrived.

Barry stood talking to a man in jeans. Jesse’s gaze lingered on Barry. Dressed in khaki slacks and a pale blue oxford shirt taut across his wide shoulders, Barry dwarfed the worker. Jesse could see how he’d be attractive to women. Did Alanna love him? She must have some feelings for him or she wouldn’t have married him. The realization stung, and Jesse glanced at his watch. Seven. Later than he thought.