Smoky Ridge Curse - Paula Graves



His hand slid up under the hem of Delilahs jacket and crept beneath her thermal sweater until his cool fingers traced over the hot skin of her waist. Kiss me.

She lowered her mouth to his slowly, her heart pounding. His lips were warm and dry, soft at first, but hardening as her mouth met his. She threaded her fingers through his dark hair, slanting his head so that their mouths fit together more completely.

Kissing him still felt like sin and salvation, contradictory and irresistible. She knew she couldnt let herself want him, but she was powerless to resist the pull of attraction. Nothingnot their present danger or their past betrayalscould stem the tide of her desire

About the Author

Alabama native PAULA GRAVES wrote her first book, a mystery starring herself and her neighborhood friends, at the age of six. A voracious reader, Paula loves books that pair tantalizing mystery with compelling romance. When shes not reading or writing, she works as a creative director for a Birmingham advertising agency and spends time with her family and friends. She is a member of Southern Magic Romance Writers, Heart of Dixie Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America. Paula invites readers to visit her website, www.paulagraves.com.

Smoky Ridge Curse

Paula Graves

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Chapter One

Winter had come to Bitterwood, Tennessee, roaring in on a cold, damp wind that poured down the mountain passes and shook the remnants of browning leaves from the sugar maples, sweet gums and dogwoods growing at the middle elevations. Delilah Hammond remembered well from childhood the sharp bite of an Appalachian November and dressed warmly when she headed up the winding mountain road to her mothers place on Smoky Ridge.

Reesa Hammond was on day three of her latest hop on the sobriety wagon, and withdrawal had hit her hard, killing her appetite and leaving her shaking, angry and suffering from a persistent headache no amount of ibuprofen seemed to relieve. Frankly, Delilah was surprised her mother had bothered trying to stop drinking at all at this point, since her previous eight attempts at sobriety had all ended the same way, five fingers deep in a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey.

Delilah didnt kid herself that this time Reesa would win the battle with the bottle. But Reesa had taken a hell of a lot of abuse trying to protect Delilah and her brother, Seth, from their sick creep of a sperm donor, so a little barley soup and a few minutes of company wasnt too much to offer, was it?

Her cell phone beeped as she turned her Camaro into a tight curve. She waited until the road straightened to answer, aware of how dangerous the mountain roads could be, especially at night with rain starting to mix with sleet. Hammond.

Just checking to make sure you hadnt changed your mind. The gruff voice on the other end of the line belonged to a former leatherneck named Jesse Cooper, the man whod been her boss for the past few years, until shed given her notice two weeks earlier.

I havent, she answered, tamping down the doubts that had harassed her ever since shed quit the best job shed ever had.

Youre overqualified.

I know.

Youre no good at small-town politics.

I know that, too.

You should have held out for chief of police, at least.

She grinned at that. Talk about small-town politics.

I can keep the job open for a month or two, but thats it. Our caseloads growing, and I cant afford to work shorthanded.

I know. I appreciate the vote of confidence in me, but Im ready for a change. She tried not to dwell on just how drastic a change shed made in the past two weeks. Going from a global security and threat assessment firm to a detective on one of Tennessees tiniest police forces was turning out to be a shock to the system even she hadnt anticipated.

She still wasnt sure why, exactly, shed decided to stick around Bitterwood, Tennessee, after so many years away. She only knew that a few weeks ago, when the time had come to go back to work in Alabama after an extended assignment in her old hometown, her feet had planted firmly in the rocky Tennessee soil and refused to budge. Shed returned to Maybridge just long enough to work out her two-week notice, talk her landlord into letting her break her long-term lease and gather up her sparse belongings. Two days ago, shed moved into a rental house off Vesper Road at the foot of Smoky Ridge. In a week, shed start her new job with the Bitterwood Police Department.

I dont suppose youve heard anything else about Adam Brand? she added as the silence between her and her former boss lingered past comfort.

Nothing yet. We have feelers out. I know youre worried.

Not worried, she denied, though it was a lie. More confused than anything. Going AWOL is not an Adam Brand kind of thing to do. And theres no way in hell hes a traitor to this country. Its not in his DNA.

Your brother still wont tell you anything more about the work he did for Brand?

I dont think Seth knows anything more, Delilah said. He didnt ask a lot of questions, and Brands not one to shoot off his mouth. Even when a few well-chosen words might do him a world of good, she added silently.

Isabel and Ben have both been trying to reach him, but theyre not having much luck. They didnt keep in close touch with Brand after leaving the bureau.

It happens. Delilah ignored the stinging pain in the center of her chest. Ive got to go. Im taking soup and sympathy to my mom. Shes on the wagon again.

Oh. She could tell by Jesses careful tone that he wanted to say something encouraging, but hed been around for three or four of her mothers last brief flirtations with sobriety and knew better than to dish out false hope. I hope she makes it this time.

Yeah, me, too. Say hi to everyone. And call me if you get any news about Brand. I dont think this Davenport case is really over yet, and he seems to know something about it.

Will do. Jesse hung up.

The Davenport case was at least part of the reason shed stuck around Bitterwood. Two months earlier, the murders had startedfour women found stabbed to death in their beds, though theyd clearly been killed elsewhere. A Bitterwood P.D. detective named Ivy Hawkins had made the first clear connection between the murdersall four women had been friends with a woman named Rachel Davenport, whose dying father owned Davenport Trucking in Maryville, Tennessee, a town twenty minutes from Bitterwood.

When Ivy had caught the murderer, hed admitted hed been hired to kill the women. With his cryptic dying words, hed hinted the killings had everything to do with Rachel Davenport, as Ivy had suspected. Someone had wanted to torment Rachel until she broke, and only after several close calls had the police discovered a struggle for control of Davenport Trucking was at the heart of the campaign of emotional torture.

If there was anything good to come out of the whole mess, it was that Delilahs black sheep of a brother, Seth, had ended up a hero and even won the girlhe and Rachel Davenport were already talking rings and wedding dates, which seemed pretty quick to Delilah. Then again, she was thirty-four and single. Some might say she was a little too cautious about affairs of the heart.

Her mothers house was a small cabin near the summit of Smoky Ridge, prone to power outages when the winter storms rolled in. But she had a large fireplace in the front room and a smaller woodstove to warm her bedroom, both of which seemed to be working based on the twin columns of smoke rising over the fir trees surrounding the small cabin.

A thin layer of sleet had started to form on the hard surface of the narrow driveway next to the cabin, crunching under Delilahs boots as she crossed the tiny concrete patio to the kitchen entrance. She had to bend into the wind as it gusted past her, slapping the screen door against the wall of the cabin.

It swung back as she passed, crashing into her with an aluminum rattle.

She stopped short, skidding on the icy pellets underfoot, and stared at the offending screen door. It hung sideways, still flapping in the cold wind, as if someone had tried to rip it from its hinges.

Moving slowly, she stepped back and reached into her pocket for her keychain, where she kept a small flashlight attached to the ring. She snapped it on and ran the narrow beam across the patio beneath the door.

Dark red splotches, still wet and glistening beneath the thin layer of sleet, marred the concrete surface. Another streak of red stained the aluminum frame of the broken door.

Her first thought was that her mother had gone back on the bottle, taken a spill and was laid up inside somewhere, drunkenly trying to patch herself up. It was the most logical assumption.

But a lot of bad things had been happening in Bitterwood in the past couple of months. And between her FBI training and her years working for Cooper Security, Delilah always assumed the worst.

Setting the bag of take-out soup on the patio table, she pulled her Sig Sauer P229 from the pancake holster behind her back and tried the back doorknob. Unlocked.

She eased the door open. Heat blasted her, a welcome contrast to the icy breeze prickling the exposed skin of her neck. Somewhere in the house, a vacuum cleaner was running on high, its whine almost drowning out the whistle of the wind across the eaves.

She shut the door quietly. Keeping her eyes and ears open, she moved as silently as she could, checking each room as she went. If there had been blood splotches inside the house, theyd been cleaned up already. The rough wood floor beneath her feet was worn but spotless.

In the den at the front of the house, the sound of the vacuum cleaner roared with full force. Reesa Hammond was running an upright vacuum with cheerful energy, dancing to whatever tune she was singing beneath the noise of the cleaner.

She swirled the cleaner around in the opposite direction and jumped when she saw Delilah standing in the doorway, weapon in hand.

Reesa shut off the vacuum cleaner and put her hand over her chest. Good Lord, Dee Dee, you scared me out of my wits!

Are you okay?

Reesas brow furrowed. Im fine. Are you okay?

After a pause, Delilah reholstered her Sig Sauer. Did you know the screen door to the kitchens been nearly ripped off its hinges?

Really? Reesa looked surprised. It was fine when I got back from the mailbox this afternoon. I guess the winds stronger out there than I thought.

I dont think it was the wind, Delilah murmured, remembering the blood on the patio. You didnt hear anything?

I was in the shower for a little while, then running the hair dryer, and Ive been vacuuming the place ever since. I reckon half the mountain could have come down out there and I wouldnt have heard it. She cocked her head. You look tired.

Delilah gazed back at her mother through narrowed eyes. I thought you were feeling bad.

Reesa looked sheepish. I was, this morning. But when you called and said you were coming over, I didnt want you to see what a mess the place was, so I started cleaning up. And before I knew it, my headache was gone, and I was feeling so much like my old self, I thought maybe Id surprise you by having dinner ready for you when you got here. She sighed. But youre early. I havent put the casserole in the oven yet.

I brought barley soup from Ledbetters Café. And left it out in the cold, she realized, where it had probably reached refrigerator temperature by now.

And Ive ruined it for you by feeling better. Reesa patted her cheek. Im sorry. I know I must seem such a mess to you.

Unexpected tears burned Delilahs eyes. She blinked them away. Im just glad youre feeling better.

Reesas smile faded. This is the farthest Ive gotten, you know? Ive never reached the point where I actually feel better not drinking. Its a surprise, I have to say!

Well, good. Delilah couldnt keep a hint of caution out of her voice. She could tell her mother didnt miss the inflection, for Reesas green eyes darkened with shame for a moment.

But she lifted her chin and smiled at her daughter. I think its havin my kids around me again. Ive missed you both so much.

Seths been by? Delilah asked as her mother unplugged the vacuum cleaner and started looping the cord around the hooks in the back.

He stopped in with Rachel earlier today. Reesa slanted a quick look at Delilah. Shes good for him.

Shes great for him, Delilah agreed. Shes crazy about him, too. Go figure.

What about you? Putting the vacuum cleaner away in the living room closet, Reesa paused to look over her shoulder. Met anyone you like?

Not recently, Delilah answered. Actually, shed met her share of men over the course of working for Cooper Security, but none whod interested her enough to keep seeing him long-term.

There was only one man shed ever really wanted, and though hed never be hers, she still seemed to measure every man she met against him.

Maybe youll meet someone when you start work.

Maybe, Delilah agreed in order to end this particular topic of conversation. Shed already met everyone in the Bitterwood Police Department without a single spark flying. Most were married, and of those who werent, only Antoine Parsons was remotely interesting. But he was seeing someone in Maryville, and Delilah had never been a poacher.

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