Midnight Sacrifice Read online

  Mae ladled pancake batter into the hot pan. “You have enough to do. You don’t need to wait on me.” Despite her protest, Mae leaned harder on the counter.

  Mandy started the dishwasher, crossed the kitchen, and wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders.

  “I’m not good at sitting around.” But Mae’s face was pale, her voice breathy. Clearly, the small effort of standing at the stove, flipping pancakes, was draining her. “You can’t make breakfast alone every day. Running this inn is too much for one person.”

  “You did it for years,” Mandy said.

  “Which is how I know how hard it is,” her mother quipped.

  “How about I give Mandy a hand this morning?”

  Mandy whipped her head around. Danny was standing in the doorway. His black hair still damp from the shower, worn jeans and a snug T-shirt outlined his hard body. No one should be allowed to look that good after less than three hours of sleep.

  She cleared her suddenly constricted throat. “Guests don’t work in the kitchen.”

  “I’m not really a guest, am I?” Danny asked with a bad-boy grin. He sauntered across the kitchen and looked over her mother’s other shoulder. “Mm. Mm. Those sure look tasty.”

  Even in pain, Mae gave him a smile. Oh, no. Her mother was falling for Irish boy’s charm.

  “We’ll manage, but thank you.” Moving closer to her mom, Mandy pulled a stainless steel bowl from the wall shelf. She separated four eggs and beat the whites with salt and pepper.

  Instead of yielding to Mandy’s attempt to claim her space, Danny took her mother’s arm. “How about I take over the griddle, Mrs. Brown? It would make me feel better knowing I was helping Mandy after I interrupted her sleep last night.”

  “Well, all right.” Her mother moved aside. She pulled a mug down from the cabinet and filled it with decaf before sagging onto a stool at the center island.

  Mandy looked over at Danny. Clearly this wasn’t his first time in a kitchen. Even one-handed, he handled the spatula like a pro. Mandy wiped a hot pan with vegetable oil and poured the beaten egg whites in with a sizzle. A few minutes later, she slid the low-fat breakfast onto a plate, added some fresh berries, and set it in front of her mother.

  While Danny flipped pancakes, Mandy went into the dining room to check on the guests and the coffee supply. The first wave had finished. Mandy cleared their tables. She walked back into the kitchen and collected the stack of pancakes. By the time she’d refilled the chafing dish in the dining room, Danny was drying the clean griddle with a dishcloth. “Your mother went to rest.”

  “OK.” Mandy loaded the dishes into the second dishwasher. “You don’t have to do all that.”

  “I know. I want to.” He set the griddle on the stove. “You took me in last night. Now it’s my turn to help you.”

  “Thank you.” But working side by side with Danny proved distracting. Had the kitchen been this warm earlier? Mandy poured a glass of cold orange juice. “Did you eat?”

  “I finished breakfast before I came into the kitchen.”

  Had he been looking for her? Needing space, Mandy filled a pitcher with orange juice and returned to the dining room. By nine, the few late sleepers trickled out. Most guests liked to get a jump on their chosen outdoor activities. Mandy bused the last tables. With Danny’s steady help, kitchen cleanup took twenty minutes instead of forty.

  “Thanks again.”

  “Anytime.” Way too comfortable in her kitchen, Danny wiped the countertops.

  “I appreciate the help this morning. I slept through my alarm—”

  “Which was my fault,” Danny interrupted.

  “It was,” Mandy continued. “But tomorrow, I should be fine.”

  Danny took a step closer. He tossed the sponge into the sink. “Why don’t you want my help?”

  “It’s just that you’re a guest, and guests don’t work in the kitchen.”

  “That’s the only reason? It’s not because of Jed?”

  “What does Jed have to do with it?” Mandy inched away. Her back pressed into the countertop. She didn’t want to bring up Nathan because, well, she didn’t want to talk about the case.

  “He’s not jealous?”

  “Why would he be jealous? We’re just friends. Jed’s been my best friend since we were kids.” Mandy gave herself a mental head slap. First her mother, now Danny. “Jed and I aren’t in a relationship.”

  “Really?” Danny frowned.

  “Really.” Why was everyone trying to hook her and Jed up?

  “That’s good to know.” He flashed a wicked smile that brought to mind all sorts of things good girls didn’t do. A sigh worked its way up from Mandy’s toes. Why did things that were wrong for her always look so good?

  “Hold still. You have some dough…” He reached out and brushed a finger across her cheek. Nerves twittered in her belly. Her mind went blank. Why did she want him to go?

  Danny leaned in. His body caged her against the cabinets.

  She couldn’t back up any more. And if she moved sideways, she’d rub against the lean hips that were blocking her exit. Not that she really wanted to move at all. But she angled her body a bit so he wouldn’t feel the gun nestled behind her right hip.

  His eyes darkened and dropped to her mouth. He licked his lips, as if contemplating the taste of her.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  Uncomfortable just didn’t cover it. The kitchen was warm, but the external temperature had nothing to do with the lava flowing through Mandy’s veins. Never had a man made her feel like every inch of her skin was alive.

  “Mandy?” The door opened, and her mother stepped into the room.

  She felt the disappointed sigh roll through Danny’s whole body. He backed off. But regret didn’t dim the intensity in his eyes.

  “Thank you for helping me with breakfast.” Her voice came out way too Marilyn Monroe breathy. She was practically panting. Ugh. Get a grip.

  “Anytime.” He left the kitchen.

  Her mother crossed the tile to the coffeepot. She emptied the decaf into her mug, then took the pot to the sink and filled it with soapy water. “Did I interrupt something?”

  Mandy gulped orange juice. It wasn’t nearly cold enough. “No.”

  “Sure looked like I did.”

  And now her humiliation was complete.

  “Well, you didn’t.” Mandy set her glass on the counter. “Danny was just helping me to say thanks for taking him in last night. That’s all.”

  “Look, Mandy. You’re a grown woman. I can’t tell you what to do,” her mother said as she scrubbed the glass pot clean. “Danny seems like a nice man, and God knows I’m grateful to him for saving you and Jed, but he’s not going to stay here. Half the people who live in Huntsville don’t want to stay here. You can’t expect a city person to be content living in the middle of nowhere.”

  “I know that. There’s nothing going on between us,” Mandy insisted.

  “Good. Maybe Jed would come and help you with breakfast.”

  “Mom, please stop calling Jed to help me. He can barely take care of his own place, and I can handle breakfast by myself. No, it’s not easy, but I can manage.”

  Her mother shook her head. “I don’t want you to work yourself to the bone like I did. You should just marry Jed. If he moved in here, he wouldn’t have a separate place to keep up.”

  Mandy took her glass to the sink. “We’ve been over this before. I don’t want to marry Jed. Besides, he hasn’t asked. He hasn’t made one move to suggest he has anything but platonic feelings for me. Ever.”

  “He would if he thought you were interested.”

  “I don’t love him. Not like that.” Sadness doused her desire like a bucket of cold water. “I’d rather be alone than settle for a marriage without love.”

  “Love can grow out of friendship.” Mae looked over the half glasses perched low on her nose. “Marriage isn’t about romance. It’s about commitment through the drudgery of every
day life, when the moonlight and roses have turned to sick children and medical bills.” Mae’s voice turned bitter. “I wish I’d have used some sense in picking a husband instead of following my heart. This heart attack has made me worried about your future. I’m not going to be around forever.”

  Mandy looked away. Her father’s betrayal had left a deep imprint on all of them. “I’m sorry Dad left us, but that doesn’t mean I should marry Jed.”

  Mae was right, though. Jed had always been there for Mandy. He was her best friend. The person she called if she needed help with anything.

  But was friendship enough? After the disastrous affair with Nathan, maybe that’s exactly what Mandy needed to do. To use her head instead of her emotions. To ignore the flash of desire that heated her blood. The tension coiling in her belly made her forget the reasons she needed Danny to leave. Desire was dangerous, addictive, and should be doused at its first spark. He was hypnotic, like truth serum. Unless she could figure out who was threatening her and why, the absolute last person she could get involved with was Danny.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In the lot behind the inn, the spring air was still morning cold. Today, Danny welcomed the chill. He tossed his jacket in the passenger seat. He needed to cool the fire rushing through his body. Being that close to Mandy made him want things he hadn’t had in a long time, since before his last tour. He could imagine Mandy’s soft body under his far too clearly.

  Now that he knew she wasn’t Jed’s girlfriend, his imagination was doing all sorts of speculating. He brushed away the prickling of guilt. How could she not see Jed was in love with her? Maybe she was too close to the situation.

  He needed to think. He also wanted to do some research. There was no way he was going back into the inn to ask Mandy for her laptop. Did Huntsville have a library? If it did, it couldn’t be that hard to find.

  Danny’s car roared to life. The engine coughed a few times while it warmed up. He turned onto Main Street. The two-block-long business district quickly gave way to residences. Houses grew farther apart along the long, winding road that led out of town. Danny drove to the Quickie-Mart and grabbed a candy bar and a Coke. The elderly clerk was watching a game show on the small TV behind the counter.

  The clerk rang up his purchases. Danny handed him a five. “Is there a library in town?”

  “Sure is.” The clerk handed Danny his change. “It’s right next to the grammar school on Sixth Street. We have computers and everything.” His voice rang with pride.

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Danny cruised back into town. Sixth Street was an easy find. Next to a small park, a converted two-story Colonial housed Huntsville’s library. He parked at the curb and went inside. The transformation process from house to library consisted of lining all the walls with bookshelves. Chairs and a table or two were assembled in the center of each room.

  Danny wandered around.

  “Hello,” an elderly woman greeted him. “I’m the librarian, Mrs. Proctor. Can I help you find something?”

  She was about a thousand years old and had the same skin tone as the tortoises at the Philadelphia Zoo. The baggy dress, support hose, and orthopedic shoes didn’t help.

  Danny turned on the charm with a wide smile. “I’m looking for a computer.”

  Unswayed, she frowned at him with less humor than his high school principal. “Our media room is upstairs. Follow me.” Could she even get up the stairs? Spryer than Danny expected, she led the way back to the foyer and up a narrow staircase in the center hall. The media room was an empty bedroom with three desktop computers on a trestle table. Mrs. Proctor booted up the first machine. “Our system is slow. I hope you’re not in a rush.”

  “I have some time.” He was avoiding the inn and Mandy and her mother, who had just witnessed Danny making moves on her daughter. Being caught by angry parents was nothing new to Danny. With his reputation for trouble, he’d never been welcomed into a girl’s home in his youth. In adulthood, his army career had made long-term relationships difficult. How did a man talk to a woman’s parents while he was thinking about getting their daughter naked?

  And why was he suddenly pondering parents and long-term relationships? Neither was part of his MO.

  Wishing he’d borrowed a laptop for the trip, Danny waited for the browser to open. He called up a search engine. The aged computer chugged along. Web pages loaded at cyber snail’s pace. He started with getting an update and details on the fisherman’s disappearance. Nothing on that front except head scratching from rescue crews. The search was being expanded, but so far, nothing indicated foul play. Lake Walker was deep. Dragging its bottom would be a lengthy process. Danny stared at the grainy pictures of a pudgy, smiling man and his freckle-faced son. Danny wanted to believe the pair was too happy, too innocent to be gone, but he knew otherwise. Death didn’t discriminate. Suppressing his pity for the victims’ family, Danny took a few pertinent notes and moved on.

  Danny googled the museum theft and was rewarded with a number of articles. Ignoring the No CELL PHONES sign hanging on the wall, he dialed his brother.

  “Yo,” Conor answered.

  “Yo, yourself,” Danny retorted.

  “Everything OK?”

  “Sort of.” Danny sucked up his pride and told Conor about the fire at Reed’s house.

  “I’m coming up there,” Conor said in his chronically rude older-brother voice.

  “Because I clearly need a babysitter.”

  “You almost set yourself on fire.”

  “No shit. Thanks for pointing out my latest failure. I feel useless enough,” Danny shot back.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” Conor sighed. “But we’re all worried about you. None of us wanted you to go up there by yourself in the first place. Honestly, we figured the chance of you actually discovering something was pretty slim, and therefore, you weren’t in any real danger.”

  “Thanks for the confidence.”

  “I only meant that there doesn’t seem to be anything to find.”

  An ache gathered behind Danny’s temple. “I need to do something, Conor, without one of you to jump in and fix it for me.” He rubbed his eyes. “Jayne is never going to feel safe unless Nathan Hall is found, and the police up here have given up.”

  “Maybe you should give up, too. Maybe the police are right, and he’s gone,” Conor reasoned. “The dude did have a fatal brain disease.”

  As usual, Conor’s coolheaded calm irritated Danny’s sensitive nerves. He fell right into his assigned sibling role as family hothead. “Do you really want to take that chance with Jayne? This guy could be a threat for another year.”

  “We can protect Jayne.” Conor’s voice hardened.

  “That’s not the point. Jayne deserves some peace and happiness, don’t you think?” Danny shouted. “She shouldn’t need a bodyguard for a fucking trip to the grocery store.”

  “Is everything all right up here?” The librarian stuck her head into the room. Disapproval scrunched her wrinkled face into a giant prune.

  Danny turned toward her and covered the phone with a palm. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

  Not assuaged, she raised a brow and pointed to the sign. “You’ll have to take your call outside.”

  “There’s no one else in the whole building,” Danny protested. Wrong move. Mrs. Proctor crossed her arms.

  “Rules are rules.” Under her thinning, snow-white hair, her eyes were solid, clear, and filled with the superiority of the aged.

  “OK, OK. I’m going.” Annoyed with rules, tight-assed old people, and his arrogant brother, Danny spoke into the phone. “I’ll call you back in a few. I have to go outside.”

  Over the line, he could hear Conor chuckling. “You’ve been served, baby brother.”

  Danny hung up on him. “Can I print this article?” he asked the librarian.

  “It’ll cost you a dime per page.” Unbelievably, Mrs. Proctor’s posture stiffened.

  “That’ll be fine, ma’am.”

 
She turned on an old printer in the corner of the room and entered a passcode. Then she supervised his use of the machine. Danny shelled out the fifty cents, took his pages, and bolted for the exit.

  One curse and he was on the librarian’s shit list. Small town life was going to take some adjustment. As soon as his sneakers hit the sidewalk, he was dialing Conor’s number. His brother picked up.

  “Stop laughing.” Danny got into his car and flipped through the article.

  Conor snorted. “Sorry.”

  “How can you irritate me eight hundred miles away?”

  “It’s a skill. Now what’s up?”

  “The Winston Museum of Art and Archeology in Bangor was robbed last night,” Danny started. “The only objects stolen were part of a Celtic History exhibit.”

  “Is there a list of what was stolen?”

  Danny skimmed the text. “No, but the thief bypassed more valuable pieces to lift the Celtic stuff. The journalist speculates about it being an inside job, based on the assumption that if there’s no forced entry, the thief had a key.”

  “You know what happens when you assume. Criminals know lots of clever ways to get into buildings.”

  “But they usually go for stuff that’s easy to fence.” Danny always had. He waited for the slap of guilt that usually followed memories of his dark teen years, but all he felt was a nudge. “Celtic artifacts are not easy cash.”

  “What are you thinking, Danny?”

  “That the police confiscated Nathan’s collection of Celtic objects back in December. Maybe he needs stuff.”

  “For what?”

  “No idea,” Danny said. “But it’s weird, and weird shit gives me hives. It makes me worry about Jayne.” And Mandy.

  “How far is Bangor from Huntsville?” His brother’s wheels were turning.

  Danny checked his map app. “Couple of hours by car.”

  Conor was quiet for a minute. He’d be at the bar at this hour, but from the lack of noise behind his voice, he was probably sitting in the tiny back office with the door closed. Though on a weekday between lunch and dinner, the tavern would be fairly quiet. His siblings would be preparing for the evening rush. “You really think this museum robbery could be connected to Nathan’s disappearance?”