She Can Kill Read online

  Rachel stripped off her coat, dumped it on a stool, and attacked a piece of bacon on a plate at the island. Mike stood next to her, grinning like a fool.

  Cristan helped himself to a cup of coffee. “All is well?”

  “She was dehydrated,” Mike put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “And pregnant.”

  Sarah dumped her pan of eggs in a large bowl and ran around the island to hug her sister. “Oh, my god. That’s so exciting.”

  Smiling, Lucia brought a platter of toast to the island and filled a plate with food.

  Rachel reached for another piece of bacon. “Wait. It gets better.”

  Mike looked as if he would burst. “Twins.”

  Cristan had never heard a grown woman squeal, but that’s the only way he could describe the sound that burst from Sarah’s lips.

  Face beaming, she hugged her sister hard. “How do they know so soon?”

  Rachel sighed. “They did an ultrasound. I’m already seven weeks.”

  “And you didn’t notice?” Sarah asked, laughing.

  “I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I was preoccupied with Lady.” Rachel crunched through another piece of bacon and reached for more.

  “Your appetite seems to have improved.” Sarah went back to the cooking side of the island. “How about eggs or toast?”

  “Yes, please, and extra bacon.” Rachel made a face. She narrowed her eyes at Mike’s disapproving glance. “The doctor said I should eat whatever appeals to me.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “You can have whatever you want.”

  Rachel turned up her nose at orange juice and went to the cabinet for a Pop-Tart. Mike opened his mouth, then closed it. She ate it cold with a contented sigh. “I’m going out to see my baby.”

  Lucia wolfed down a plate of eggs. “I’ll come with you.”

  Mike filled a plate and sat at the island. His ruddy face was lined with exhaustion. No doubt Cristan looked the same.

  He took a piece of toast from the plate. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. As soon as they rehydrated her, she felt better.” Mike scooped eggs with his fork. “But the doctor wants her to take it easy. That will be a challenge.”

  “She’s going to be tired.” Sarah stood on the other side of the island, holding a mug of coffee with both hands. “It might not be as hard as you think.”

  “Do you need any more help today?”

  “If Brandon is here, all is good.” Mike shrugged into his jacket. “Thank you for your help last night. That horse is very important to my wife.”

  “You are welcome, but I would have done it regardless,” Cristan said. “Has there been any progress tracking Eva?”

  Mike shook his head. “Her fingerprints weren’t on the ring she gave to Sarah or on the gun we assume she used to kill Troy. Do you think she’ll be back?”

  Eva had been different when she’d appeared on his patio. For the first time ever, she’d been humbled. Her world had been completely upended.

  “I hope not. I felt like she was telling me the truth.” Eva had her own, skewed sense of morality and justice. “As I said before, Eva is a killer, but she isn’t a liar.”

  “And that makes you feel better about the situation?” Mike asked.

  Cristan laughed. “I know it’s odd, but yes.”

  “Odd doesn’t even come close.”

  Eva got out of the SUV. She looked up at her sister’s house. The square stucco structure squatted in the middle of a plateau. Beyond the house, the vineyard stretched across the moon-brightened plateau. She wrapped her leather jacket around her shoulders against the night chill. The high altitude brought cold nights, but the slower ripening period gave Mendoza wine its distinctive, rich flavor.

  Using her key, she went inside the estancia. After disarming the security system, she headed to the kitchen. Her sister lived simply. No servants. No armed guards. Just a basic alarm system.

  Maria was in the study, a book in her lap and a glass of wine at her elbow. She looked up in surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming. You should have called.” She set aside her book and stood to give Eva an air kiss.

  A small fire cracked in the hearth. The room was warm and cozy. Maria had built a safe haven here. She lived in quiet seclusion. The same tranquility that gave her sister peace made Eva restless.

  She paced the study. “How do you live here? Nothing happens.”

  How could Maria be content watching grapes grow?

  “You need to relax.” Maria went to a side table and poured a second glass of red wine. She handed it to Eva. “The 2011 Cabernet is our best yet.”

  Eva held the glass up to the firelight. It glowed like a liquid ruby—or blood. A sniff brought hints of blackberry and clove to her nose. Looking at her sister was like looking into a mirror, minus a few years. Except Maria’s face was relaxed, her posture content.

  “You are happy, aren’t you?”

  Maria smiled. “I am.”

  “How long did it take to feel happy?”

  “What do you mean?” Maria asked.

  “After. How long after the family was killed did you grieve?”

  Maria shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. But it’s been twelve years, Eva. Maybe you should let the past go.”

  Eva set her glass down. “I still have a hard time believing Nicolas betrayed us.”

  “There isn’t anyone else,” Maria said. “He was never blood, after all.”

  How does it feel to be betrayed by the one who is supposed to love you the most? Aline’s words rang in Eva’s head. At the time, she’d thought Aline was referring to Christopher, but the statement didn’t make any sense when applied to Nicolas. He wasn’t family.

  “Isn’t there?” The truth speared Eva like a sharp blade. How much was Maria willing to sacrifice for the life she wanted? “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?” Maria asked, but a secret lurked in her eyes.

  Despite the heat of the fire, Eva’s skin went cold. “You betrayed the family to Aline. You had them all killed.”

  “How can you even suggest such a thing?” But Maria’s protest didn’t reach her eyes.

  And Eva knew the truth. “You did it. Why?”

  Heat flared in Maria’s face. “Why? Why? Our father was a monster. He was in the business of selling death. He murdered people. You and Christopher killed people. You all did. I was almost raped as a child because of the type of men our father welcomed into our home, and you wonder why I never wanted anything to do with the business. Why I wanted out of that life? Papa kept telling me I had to come home and take my place at his side. That was the last place I wanted to be.” She spat.

  “There were children there, Maria. My child could have been there.” It was only by chance that Christopher had escaped with Luciana. “You had Papa killed. You tried to kill me.”

  Death was no stranger to them, but family loyalty was an unnatural bond to break.

  Maria didn’t respond. Hatred shone from her eyes.

  Without a word, Eva turned and walked out of the house. If she stayed any longer, if her sister issued one more word from her lips, Eva would kill her.

  And she didn’t think she could live with that. Not now. Not after seeing Christopher and Luciana and the happy, domestic life they lived. There had been too much death. He’d been right all along. If only she’d listened to him sooner. If only she’d loved him more than her family. Maybe they could have gotten away and started a new life together.

  She inhaled cool, dry air deep into her lungs. Who was she kidding? The thought of living in that little town, of spending her days running errands, of the endless boredom, made her skin itch. She would never be able to adapt to the unrelenting tedium. The pain rocketing through her soul right now was preferable. In the long run, it was probably best that Christopher raise
Luciana on his own or with his new woman. Sarah Mitchell suited his new life far better than Eva.

  Maria didn’t follow her outside. Eva got into her car and drove away from the house into the dark. She had no idea where she would go, but she hadn’t killed her sister, and for tonight, that was enough.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Two months later

  Sarah adjusted the bodice of her sister’s wedding dress. Plain silk and strapless, it fell from a gray sash from the bodice straight to the floor. Simple, classic, and no-fuss, it suited her sister perfectly, except the sash restricted her almost four-months-pregnant belly. In a dove gray, Sarah’s dress mimicked the style, but with a just-above-the-knee hem. Sarah wore a cropped silk jacket to cover the scar on the back of her shoulder.

  “Aunt Rachel, you look boot-i-ful.” Em stared up at Rachel.

  “You’re perfect.” Eyes shining with excitement, Alex spun. The hem of her poofy white dress twirled around her legs. “I love weddings.”

  “They’re right,” Sarah said to her sister. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. Oh my God, this dress is tight.” Rachel pulled at the waist. “I had it let out twice. According to the book, I’m not supposed to be this big yet.”

  Sarah wrapped an arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “Honey, you are manufacturing two human beings. It’s bound to take a toll.”

  Her sister patted her barely rounded stomach. “I guess I can’t back out, considering I’m carrying his twins.”

  “Why on earth would you want to back out? You love Mike and he loves you.”

  “I do. So much.” Her eyes went misty. “It’s the pregnant part that’s scary. What if I’m a horrible mother? Ours wasn’t exactly Donna Reed.”

  “It’s going to be all right. You’re going to be a great mom.” Sarah hugged her. “I might make plenty of mistakes, but I’m a good mother. Neither of us is Mom.”

  “You’re the best. I guess if you can do it, so can I.”

  “Now stop blubbering. You’ll ruin your makeup.” Sarah plucked a tissue and blotted Rachel’s eyes. “Are you ready?”

  “I am.”

  They went downstairs. In the kitchen, the servers bustled. Sarah pointed at a chafing dish. “That Sterno needs to be lighted.”

  Rachel poked her. “I let you plan and prepare the food. But you’re not supposed to be working today, remember?”

  “I remember.” Sarah herded the girls through the chaos before one of them ended up covered in something sticky. White dresses and preschoolers were a dangerous combination.

  They went outside. Friends gathered under a tent in the backyard. In front of a lattice-and-flower pergola, Mike waited in a dark-blue suit and tie that made his shoulders seem impossibly broad. As best man, Sean stood next to him. He leaned over and whispered something in Mike’s ear. From Mike’s expression, the comment was typically funny but inappropriate. Grinning, he jabbed Sean with an elbow.

  Sarah scanned the crowd. Everyone from the police department was there. Brooke and Luke were in the back row. Mike’s friend, Jack, and his enormously pregnant wife, Beth, sat with her children. Sean’s wife and his little girls occupied seats next to them. Sarah smiled at Lucia, but her gaze fell on Cristan—and stayed there. Incredibly handsome in a charcoal suit and silver tie, he held two seats in the front row for Alex and Em. But it was the smile on his face that transfixed her. He looked content and relaxed, two words she would never have used to describe him eight weeks ago.

  Em tossed her flower petals with care and precision, while Alex skipped down the aisle and flung them over guests’ heads. Sarah and Rachel walked between the chairs together, the way they’d gone through life, Rachel had said. Sarah hadn’t heard from their father since she’d walked out of his house that last time. Nothing could be perfect, she supposed, but today was awfully close. The ceremony was short and sweet, and by the time the “I dos” were exchanged, Sarah had tears in her eyes.

  Cristan was at her side the second the nuptials were over. His arm curled around her waist as he whispered in her ear. “You are the most beautiful woman here.”

  She blushed, happiness flooding her. A thin whinny punctuated Rachel’s arrival at the aisle between folding chairs. The colt ran a circle around his grazing mother.

  “Lucky!” Alex and Em raced for the fence. Their long-legged playmate trotted over to greet them. Officially named Lucky Feet, after his show jumping champion father, Fleet O’ Feet, the colt acted more like a puppy than a horse with the children.

  “I’m on them,” Lucia called, jogging after them.

  Alex and Em didn’t know all the details of their father’s death. Sarah didn’t know when they’d be old enough. Maybe it’d be best if the truth came out in small pieces. She’d promised herself that if they asked questions, she would give them answers. She wouldn’t offer details until she thought they were ready, but she wouldn’t lie to them. For now, they were happy, and that’s all she could want.

  The colt stuck his head between the boards and wiped dirt on the front of Em’s white dress.

  “I hope you weren’t planning on Emma wearing that dress again.” Cristan smiled at the children. “They’re both going to be filthy by the end of the day.”

  “But they’re having fun.” Sarah laughed. “I’m shocked those dresses stayed clean until the ceremony was over.”

  “Your food is very popular.” He swept a hand toward the buffet table, where guests lined up. “You’ll have plenty of new orders after today.”

  Sarah’s business was building at a slow and steady rate. Her friends and family were spreading the word, and she’d garnered several local events already.

  “I hope so. I’d love to be able to pay rent to Mike and Rachel.”

  He turned her to face him. “Or you could move in with me and Lucia.”

  “I’m not ready to get that serious just yet.” But the fact that he’d asked pleased her.

  He kissed her on the cheek. “And yet, you can continue to use me for my gourmet kitchen.”

  She flattened her hands against his chest and teased him. “It is a great kitchen.”

  “My kitchen,” he smiled, his eyes darkening, “and anything else of mine you desire, is at your service. Then the more orders you have, the more I get to see you.”

  “You see me almost every day.” Sometimes when all the kids were at school . . . Sarah flushed with the memories. Lover was definitely the correct term for him.

  Cristan tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Someday I intend to stand at an altar with you. I love you, but I’m a patient man. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

  “Who knows how long your paperwork will take anyway.”

  “True.” Though his official paperwork would declare Cristan Rojas a single man, a divorce was being arranged for his Argentinean alter ego. “None of that matters if we’re together. I love you, Sarah. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, raising children, growing old, making love.” He leaned closer, kissed her jaw, and whispered, “Especially making love. I could be with you every moment, and it wouldn’t be enough.”

  “I love you.” She rose onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. Over the last few months, she’d decided she didn’t have to be alone to be independent. Cristan respected her, and that made all the difference. The time they spent together felt right in a way she couldn’t describe with words, but her heart understood. Cristan was trust and passion and friendship.

  “Tienes mi corazón,” he whispered in her ear.

  “That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

  “You have my heart.” He pressed her hands against the center of his chest, where his heart thudded under her palms. “I don’t commit easily, Sarah. But when I do, I don’t hold back.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. “You have given me your trust and restored my faith in love and life. You
are my forever.”

  You have my heart. He’d summed up her feelings perfectly. Sarah rose on her toes to kiss him. “Tienes mi corazón right back at you.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always, credit goes to Super Agent Jill Marsal. She is the best.

  I also need to thank the entire team at Montlake Romance, especially author herder and tech goddess Jessica Poore, who keeps everything in order, and editor Anh Schluep. Special thanks to developmental editor Charlotte Herscher for helping me pull this book together, and Mary Buckham, writing teacher extraordinaire, for helping me plan it.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2014 Marti Corn Photography

  Melinda Leigh abandoned her career in banking to raise her kids and never looked back. She started writing as a hobby and became addicted to creating characters and stories. Since then, she has won numerous writing awards for her paranormal romance and romantic-suspense fiction.

  Her debut novel, She Can Run, was a number one bestseller in Kindle Romantic Suspense, a 2011 Best Book Finalist (The Romance Reviews), and a nominee for the 2012 International Thriller Award for Best First Book. Melinda is a three-time Daphne du Maurier Award finalist and the winner of the Golden Leaf Award. When she isn’t writing, Melinda is an avid martial artist: she holds a second-degree black belt in Kenpo karate and teaches women’s self-defense. She lives in a messy house with her husband, two teenagers, a couple of dogs, and two rescue cats.