Shed done okay, taking over more and more of her fa-thers duties until his death, but would Paul Bailey have seen it that way?
The song ended, and the next cut on the album began, a plaintive ballad that Rachel didnt seem to know. She hummed along, swaying gently against the constraints of the seat belt. She was beginning to wind down, he noticed with a glance her way. Her eyes were starting to droop closed.
Maybe he should have taken her straight to the hospital in Maryville to get checked out, he realized. What if shed overdosed on whatever shed taken? What if she needed treatment?
He bypassed the turnoff that would take him to the Edgewood area, where Bitterwoods small but influential moneyed class lived, and headed instead to Vesper Road. Delilah was housesitting there for Ivy Hawkins, a girl theyd grown up with on Smoky Ridge.
A detective with the Bitterwood Police Department, Ivy was on administrative leave following a shooting that had left a hired killer dead and a whole lot of questions unanswered. Ivy had taken advantage of the enforced time off to visit with her mother, whod recently moved to Birmingham, and had offered Delilah a place to stay while she was in town.
Rachel, you still with me? he asked with alarm as he noticed her head lolling to one side.
She didnt answer.
He drove faster than he should down twisty Vesper Road, hoping the deer, coyotes and black bears stayed in the woods where they belonged instead of straying into the path of his speeding car. He almost missed his turn and ended up whipping down Ivy Hawkinss driveway with an impressive clatter of gravel that brought Deli-lah out to confront him before he even had a chance to cut the engine.
What the hell? she asked as she circled around to the passenger door.
You did some medic training at that fancy place you work, right?
Delilahs eyebrows lifted at the sight of Rachel Davenport in the passenger seat. Whats wrong with her?
Thats what Id like to know. He gave Rachels shoulder a light shake. She didnt respond.
What are you doing with her?
Its a long story. Ill tell you about it inside. He nodded toward the door shed left wide-open.
Inside the house, he laid Rachel on the sofa and pressed his fingers against her slender wrist. Her pulse was slow but steady. She seemed to be breathing steadily.
She was asleep.
He stood up and turned to look at his sister. She stared back at him, her hands on her hips and a look of suspicion, liberally tinged with fear, creasing her pretty face.
What the hell happened? Did you do something to her?
Anger churned in his gut, tempered only by the bitter knowledge that Delilah had every reason to suspect him of doing something wrong. God knew shed dug him out of a whole lot of holes of his own digging over the years until shed finally tired of saving him from himself.
I found her in this condition, he explained as he pulled a crocheted throw from the back of the sofa and covered Rachel with it. On Purgatory Bridge.
On the bridge?
On the bridge, he answered. Up on the girders, about to practice her high-dive routine.
My God. She was trying to kill herself?
No. Shes on something. I thought maybe you could take a look, see if you could tell from her condition
Not without a tox screen. Delilah crossed to the sofa and crouched beside Rachel. How was she behaving when you found her?
Drunk, but I didnt really smell any liquor on her. The memory of her body, warm and soft against his, roared back with a vengeance. Shed smelled good, he remembered. Clean and sweet, as if shed just stepped out of a bath. She was out of it, though. Im not sure she even knew who she was, much less who I was.
Was she hallucinating? Delilah checked Rachels eyes.
Not hallucinating exactly, Seth answered, leaning over his sisters shoulder.
She shot him a back off look, and he stepped away. What, then, exactly?
She seemed really happy. As if she were having the time of her life.
Standing on a girder over a thirty-foot drop?
Technically, she was swaying on a girder over a thirty-foot drop. Even the memory gave him a chill. Scared the hell outta me.
You shouldve taken her to a hospital.
Worry ate at his gut. Should we call nine-one-one?
Delilah sat back on her heels, her brow furrowed. Her vitals look pretty good. I could call a doctor friend of mine back in Alabama and get his take on her condition.
You have a theory, Seth said, reading his sisters body language.
It could be gamma hydroxybutyrateGHB.
Seths chest tightened with dread. The date rape drug?
Well, its also a club druglower doses create a sense of euphoria. You said you found her near Smoky Joes, right? She might have taken the GHB to get high.
He shook his head swiftly. No. She wouldnt do that.
Delilah turned her head to look at him, her eyes narrowed. And you would know this how?
We work in the same place. If she had any kind of track record with drugs, Id have heard about it.
Delilah cocked her head. Really. You think you know all there is to know about Rachel Davenport?
He could tell from his sisters tone that hed tweaked her suspicious side again. What would she think if he told her he was working for her old boss, Adam Brand?
As tempted as he was to know the answer, he looked back at Rachel. If its GHB, would it have made her climb up on a bridge and try to fly?
It might, if shes the fanciful sort. GHB loosens inhibitions.
Which might explain her drunken attempt at seduction in the middle of Purgatory Bridge, he thought. How can we be sure?
A urine test might tell us, Delilah answered, rising to her feet and pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans. But its expensive to test for it, and its almost impossible to detect after twenty-four hours. She shot her brother a pointed look. Do you really want it on record that shes got an illegal drug in her system?
Delilah might look soft and pretty, but she was sharper than a briar patch. No, I dont, he conceded.
We cant assume someone did this to her, she said, punching in a phone number. After all, she just buried her father. That might make some folks want to forget the world for a while.
As she started speaking to the person on the other end of the call, Seth turned back to the sofa and crouched next to Rachel. She looked as if she was sleeping peacefully, her lips slightly parted and her features soft and relaxed. The calm expression on her face struck him hard as he realized he had never seen her that way, her features unlined with worry. The past year had been hell for her, watching her father slowly die in front of her while she struggled to learn the ropes of running his business.
He smoothed the hair away from her forehead. Most of the time when hed seen her at the office, she had looked like a pillar of steel, stiff-spined and regal as she went about the trucking business. But every once in a while, when she didnt know anyone else was looking, she had shed the tough facade and revealed her vulnerability. At those times, shed looked breakable, as if the slightest push would send her crumbling to pieces.
Had her fathers death been the blow to finally shatter her?
Behind him, Delilah hung up the phone. Eric says we just have to keep an eye on her vitals, make sure shes not going into shock or organ failure, she said tonelessly.
Piece of cake, he murmured drily.
We could take shifts, she suggested.
He shook his head. Go on to bed. Ill watch after her. He certainly wouldnt be getting any sleep until she was awake and back to her normal self again.
There was a long pause before Delilah spoke. Whats your angle here, Seth? Why do you give a damn what happens to her?
Shes my boss, he said, his tone flippant.
Tell me youre not planning to scam her in some way.
He slanted a look at his sister. Im not.
Once again, he saw contradictory emotions cross his sisters expressive face. Part hope, part fear. He tamped down frustration. Hed spent years losing the trust of the people who loved him. He couldnt expect them to trust him again just like that.
However much he might want it to be so.
BLACKNESS MELTED INTO featureless gray. Gray into misty blobs of shape and muted colors and, finally, as her eyes began to focus, the shapes firmed into solid forms. Win-dows with green muslin curtains blocking all but a few fragments of watery light. A tall, narrow chest of drawers standing against a nearby wall, a bowl-shaped torchiere lamp in the corner, currently dark. And across from her, sprawling loose-limbed in a low-slung armchair, sat Seth Hammond, his green eyes watching her.
Shed seen him at her fathers funeral, she remembered, fresh grief hitting her with a sharp blow. Shed looked up and seen him watching her, felt an electric pulse of awareness that had caught her by surprise.
And then what? Why couldnt she remember what had happened next?
Her head felt thick and heavy as she tried to lift it. In her chest, her heart beat a frantic cadence of panic.
Where was this place? How had she gotten here? Why couldnt she remember anything beyond her fa-thers graveside funeral service?
She knew time must have passed. The light seeping into the small room was faint and rosy-hued, suggesting either sunrise or sunset. The funeral had taken place late in the morning.
How had she gotten here?
Why was he here?
What is this? she asked. Her voice sounded shaky, frightening her further. Why couldnt she muster the energy to move?
She needed to get out of here. She needed to go home, find something familiar and grounding, to purge herself of the panic rising like floodwaters in her brain.
Shh. Seth spoke softly. Its okay, Ms. Davenport. Youre okay.
She pushed past her strange lethargy and sat up, her head swimming. What did you do to me?
His expression shifted, as if a hardened mask covered his features. What can you remember?
She shoved at the crocheted throw tangled around her legs. Thats not for me to answer! she growled at him, flailing a little as the throw twisted itself further around her limbs, trapping her in place.
Seth unfolded himself slowly from the chair, rising to his full height. He wasnt the tallest man shed ever met, but he was tall enough and imposing without much effort. It was those eyes, she thought. Sharp and focused, as if nothing could ever slip past him without notice. Full of mystery, as well, as if he knew things no one else did or possibly could.
Her fear shifted into something just as dangerous.
Fascination.
Snake and bird, she thought as he walked closer, his pace unhurried and deceptively unthreatening.
Whats the last thing you remember? He plucked at the crocheted blanket until it slithered harmlessly away from her body. He never touched her once, but somehow she felt his hands on her anyway, strong and warm. A flush washed over her, heating her from deep inside until she thought she was going to spontaneously combust.
What the hell was wrong with her?
He asked you a question, the rational part of her brain reminded her. Answer the question. Maybe he knows something you need to know.
Instead, she tried to make a run for the door she spotted just beyond his broad shoulders. She made it a few steps before her wobbling legs gave out on her. She plunged forward, landing heavily against the mans body.
His arms whipped around her, holding her upright and pinning her against his hard, lean body. The faint scent of aftershave filled her brain with a fragment of a memorystrong arms, a gentle masculine murmur in her ear, the salty-sweet taste of flesh beneath her tongue
She tore herself out of his grasp and stumbled sideways until she came up hard against the wall. Her hair spilled into her face, blinding her. She shook it away. What did you do to me?
She had meant the question to be strong. Confronta-tional. But to her ears, it sounded weak and plaintive, like a brokenhearted child coming face-to-face with a world gone mad.
Or maybe its not the world thats gone mad, a mean little voice in the back of her head taunted.
Maybe its you.
Chapter Three
Seth met Rachel Davenports terrified gaze and felt sick. It didnt help that he knew hed done nothing wrong. She clearly believed he had. And he would find few defenders if she made her accusation public.
Cleve Calhoun had always told him it never paid to help people. They hate you for it.
What if Cleve was right?
Youre awake. The sound of Delilahs voice behind him, calm and emotionless, sent a jolt down his nervous system.
Rachels attention shifted toward Delilah in confusion. Who are you?
Delilah Hammond, Delilah answered. She took the crocheted throw Seth was still holding and started folding it as she walked past him toward the sofa. How are you feeling?
I dont know, Rachel admitted. Her wary gaze shifted back and forth from Delilah to Seth. I dont remember what happened.
Delilah slanted a quick look at Seth. Thats one of the symptoms.
Symptoms of what? Rachel asked, looking more and more panicky.
GHB use, Delilah answered. Apparently you did a little partying last night.
What? Rachels panic elided straight into indignation. What are you suggesting, that I did drugs or some-thing?
Considering my brother found you about to do a double gainer off Purgatory Bridge
I dont think you planned to jump off, Seth said quickly, shooting his sister a hard look. But you were not entirely in control of yourself.
Delilahs eyebrows arched delicately. Rachel just looked at him as if hed grown a second head.
I was not on Purgatory Bridge last night, she said flatly. I would never, ever She looked nauseated by the idea.
You were on the bridge, he said quietly. Apparently whatever you took last night has affected your memory.
I donttake drugs. Her anger faded again, and the fear returned, shining coldly in her blue eyes.
Maybe someone gave something to you without your knowledge.
Seths suggestion only made her look more afraid. I dont remember going anywhere last night. I dont She stopped short, pressing her fingertips against her lips. I dont remember anything.