Myths, Murder & Love

Chapter 16

She turned back to the stove before her expression betrayed her.

The warmth lingered in her fingers. Again.

Thallia stared at the simmering sauce. What the hell was that?

This wasn't the first time she'd felt it when Leon touched her. It had happened at the bar, again this morning, and now here. A strange warmth started wherever they touched and spread beneath her skin, as though her body knew something she didn't.

Ridiculous. She was a journalist, not the heroine in some overwrought soap opera where one touch revealed her soul mate and guaranteed they would live happily ever after.

Besides, she'd done a spectacular job choosing the last man she'd thought she could trust.

Thallia picked up the spoon and stirred the sauce with far more attention than it required. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

She just hadn't found it yet.

Dinner moved to the courtyard.

The evening had cooled, and the last sunlight deepened the red stone of the canyon walls. Leon switched on the patio lights, a string of bare bulbs casting a warm glow over the table.

Thallia found several bottles of wine tucked in the back of the pantry and examined one of the labels. “Evalyn planned ahead.”

Leon glanced over. “Evalyn always planned ahead.”

Thallia looked at him. “You say things like that as if I should be worried.”

Leon winked. “Probably.”

She opened the wine anyway.

Later, Leon built a fire in the stone pit. Thallia moved her chair closer, and firelight flickered across the courtyard as the last color faded from the canyon walls.

Neither of them seemed particularly interested in going inside.

Leon told her about places he’d traveled without giving her enough details to explain how he seemed to have been everywhere. Thallia shared stories from assignments around Chicago and the occasional job that had taken her farther from home.

They discovered books they had both read and disagreed about several of them. That conversation lasted well into the evening.

She brought out the remaining bread, cheese, and pears because neither of them seemed interested in ending the evening.

The courtyard darkened around them. Stars appeared overhead.

Thallia tucked one foot beneath her chair and listened while Leon told her about an argument he'd once had with Evalyn over the ending of a novel.

“She was wrong,” Leon said.

Thallia stared at him over her wineglass. “My great-grandmother isn’t here to defend herself.”

Leon’s expression remained unapologetic. “I’m aware.”

Thallia tipped her head. “That seems suspiciously convenient.”

A hint of amusement crossed Leon’s face. “She had twenty years to change my mind.”

Thallia lowered the glass. “You argued about a book for twenty years?”

Leon’s expression changed by barely a fraction. “Evalyn held grudges.”

Thallia studied him. “That did not answer my question.”

“I didn’t expect it to,” Leon admitted.

Thallia remained silent, waiting for the answer he was clearly avoiding.

Leon reached for his glass instead.

Thallia studied him for another moment. “You do that deliberately.”

Leon met her gaze. “Do what?”

“Give me enough of an answer to be truthful without telling me anything you don’t want me to know.”

His amusement faded. “You notice more than most people.”

“It’s how I make my living.”

Leon considered her across the table. “Does it bother you?”

Thallia thought about that before answering. “Secrets don’t bother me. Everyone has things they aren’t ready to share.”

She paused. “Lies bother me.”

Leon’s expression grew serious. “Then I won’t lie to you.”

Thallia believed he meant it.

She wasn’t sure yet whether that made all the things he wasn’t telling her better or worse.

Her gaze drifted toward the house. So much of what Leon wasn't telling her seemed to lead back to Evalyn.

She wished she could ask her great-grandmother what she'd been keeping from her.

Leon seemed to notice the change in her expression.

He didn't ask about it.

Instead, he reached across the table and rested his fingers lightly over hers.

Thallia turned her hand beneath his.

Neither of them spoke.

The intimacy of it surprised her more than a kiss might have.

After a few quiet minutes, Leon looked at the bottle between them, then toward the dark drive beyond the courtyard.

“I shouldn’t drive home.”

Thallia followed his gaze.

They had finished most of the wine between them over several hours. She felt pleasantly warm rather than drunk, but Leon was right. Driving back into the canyon wasn't a good idea.

Relief came before she could stop it. She didn't want him to leave.

The realization settled differently now than it had earlier in the courtyard.

Asking Leon to stay for dinner had been easy. Asking him to spend the night in her house felt like something else entirely.

Leon hadn't asked to stay. He hadn't assumed he could.

He was simply sitting across from her, prepared to make the responsible choice and waiting for her to decide what happened next.

That mattered. Thallia looked toward the house. She wanted him here.

“There’s a guest room,” she said.

Leon’s attention returned to her. “I’ve stayed in it before.”

Thallia turned toward him. “You’ve slept here?”

“Many times,” Leon explained. “Evalyn and I occasionally played chess until ridiculous hours. She refused to let me drive home tired.”

Thallia considered him. “I’m beginning to think I inherited you with the house.”

Leon’s smile came easily. “There are worse things to inherit.”

Thallia held his gaze. “So far, I’m not complaining.”

His quiet laugh followed her as she gathered the dishes.

Leon joined her without being asked, carrying the remaining plates into the kitchen. They cleaned up together, moving around each other with the same comfortable ease they’d found while making dinner.

By the time the last dish was put away, the hour had grown late.

Leon stopped outside the guest room while Thallia continued toward her bedroom.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The attraction between them had been easy to joke about when they were standing in a bar or walking along Main Street.

Here, in the quiet hallway of her house, it felt different.

Much closer.

Leon’s gaze held hers. “Good night, Thallia.”

She heard the restraint in it.

Thallia smiled. “Good night, Leon.”

A few minutes later, she climbed beneath the covers, surprised by how comfortable the Stone House already felt.

Thallia closed her eyes, still thinking about the warmth of Leon’s hand against hers.

Sleep came easily.

Across town, Crossing River Nursery had been closed for hours.

Most of the property lay dark.

Near the center of the nursery, water continued to spill over the broad stone waterfall into the shallow pool below.

Jake checked the night-blooming cereus again.

The flowers had begun opening shortly after sunset. He'd been waiting weeks to see them.

Large white petals spread against the darkness, revealing blossoms that would be gone before most of Olympia Springs woke the next morning.

Jake lifted his phone and took another photograph.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

He lowered the phone.

A man walked toward him through the nursery.

Jake straightened. “What are you doing here? We’re closed.”

The man stopped several feet away. “You really don’t remember me.”

Jake frowned and studied him more closely.

Recognition slowly replaced confusion. “I know you.”

The man’s jaw tightened. “Now you do.”

Jake’s expression hardened. “What do you want?”

The answer came fast and angry.

Jake shook his head. “I’m not doing this with you.”

The man stepped closer, his voice rising.

Jake’s patience disappeared. “You came here to say what you wanted to say. You said it. We’re done.”

He turned away.

In her bed in the Stone House, Thallia dreamed.

She stood beside running water.

An angry voice came from behind her.

She couldn't understand everything he was saying. The words reached her through layers of distance, as though she were hearing them from inside someone else.

Irritation tightened her chest.

Except it wasn't hers.

Neither was the impatience urging her to walk away.

She wanted the argument finished.

She turned.

Pain exploded across her shoulder and neck.

White light filled her vision.

Heat rushed down the side of her throat.

Her knees gave way. She tried to catch herself, but her hands wouldn't work.

The ground slammed into her.

Cold earth pressed against her cheek.

She couldn't breathe.

Water rushed nearby.

Not a river.

Falling water.

The sound filled everything.

Her heart hammered.

Something metal struck the ground beside her.

She tried to move.

Nothing obeyed.

A man stood several feet away. Thallia could see him, but his face refused to come into focus.

He stared down at her. Then he turned away. His hand moved behind him, stuffing a pair of golf gloves into his back pocket. One slipped from his hand and disappeared beneath a shrub beside the path.

Thallia tried to call after him. No sound came.

Warmth spread beneath her cheek. Then something dark changed around her.

The pain remained, but another sensation pushed through it.

Pressure gathered deep in her chest, heavy and suffocating.

Dread pressed down on her until there was no room for anything else.

This wasn't fear. This was death.

Not peaceful. Not expected.

A life being torn away before it was ready to go.

The falling water grew distant.

The earth beneath her cheek grew colder.

Darkness closed around her.

Thallia screamed.

She woke fighting for air.

Her hand flew to her neck.

For one terrifying moment, she still felt the pain tearing through her shoulder and throat.

Her fingers found unbroken skin.

Thallia began to shake.

Her bedroom door flew open, and Leon rushed inside.

“Thallia.” Fear sharpened his voice as he crossed the room.

She couldn't answer.

Leon sat beside her. “Look at me.”

Thallia found his face through her tears.

He reached for her, then hesitated just long enough to give her the choice.

Thallia moved into his arms.

Leon held her while she struggled to breathe.

“He hit me,” she managed.

Leon stiffened.

Thallia shook her head against his chest. “No. Not me.”

She pulled back enough to look at him.

“It was him. I was inside him when it happened.”

Leon said nothing.

Thallia struggled to put the fragments together.

“There were two people. They were arguing. I couldn't hear all of it. One of them wanted the conversation to end, so he turned away.”

Her hand returned to her neck.

“The other one hit him. Something metal hit the ground beside me. I think it was a shovel.”

Leon’s expression sharpened.

Thallia swallowed against the memory of pain. “I felt the blow.”

Her voice broke. “I felt him die.”

Leon watched her.

She expected disbelief and questions. Some reaction that would make the impossible thing she'd just said sound as impossible as it should.

Instead, he drew her back against him.

“I’m here,” Leon said quietly.

Thallia closed her eyes.

“There was water. A waterfall, I think. My face was against the dirt.”

She swallowed and forced herself to remember.

“The man walked away. He put something in his back pocket.”

Leon kept his voice calm. “What did you see?”

“Gloves.” Thallia closed her eyes, trying to hold onto the image. “I think they were golf gloves.”

Leon held her while the trembling gradually eased.

Neither of them called it a nightmare.

When Thallia lay back down, Leon pulled the blanket over her.

She caught his hand before he could move away.

“Stay until I fall asleep.”

Leon closed his hand around hers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He settled into the chair beside the bed.

Thallia watched him until exhaustion pulled her under again.