Twisting sideways, she avoided it, and with her forearm knocked her attackers hand away. His fist rapped against his mouth, and she heard him grunt.
Still squirming, she rammed the heel of her hand into the side of his head. Shed been aiming for his ear and from his reaction thought she might have hit it.
When he jerked back, her instincts took over. Planting both hands on his chest, she shoved. It gave her the space she needed to work her leg out from under him.
He felt strong, but she couldnt see well enough to fix an age on him. Young or old, however, she knew a mans vulnerable spots, and she aimed for the one that would cripple him the fastest.
Did she make full contact? Her brain said no, yet a second later, he was gone, tackled sideways by something or someone else she couldnt see.
The wool strip that had partially covered her eyes lay on the ground beside her. The chloroformed cloth had vanished with her attacker.
She rolled out of the flower bed and onto the grass. It took a moment to steady her breathing, another to realize that there was no one in the tiny front yard except her and Hannahs long-haired cat.
What the hell was that, Podge? she demanded, pushing to her feet. She swayed slightly, but shook herself and scrambled to locate her cell.
She had her thumb on the key pad when a mans hand closed over hers and a low voice came into her ear.
Lets leave the police out of this, Ms. Hunt.
Chapter Two
Darcys blood pressure spiked, then slowly settled. This man was holding her, not choking her. Relaxing her muscles, she offered a pleasant, Let me guess. Damon Marlowe?
Im impressed.
Dont be. Word travels at warp speed in my business. Uh, do you mind?
For an answer, he released her and moved back half a step.
With a smile on her lips, Darcy faced him.
Gorgeous was her first, frankly surprised, thought. Elaine had been right. If the word sexy could take human form, Damon Marlowe would be it. She would have continued to marvel at his amazing, albeit shadowed, features, but she had a different agenda in mind.
Keeping her smile in place, she said, You saved my life. Thank you for that.
He moved a shoulder. No
The crack of her hand across his cheek cut him off.
It had to hurt, but given his profession, maybe he was accustomed to being slapped. He absorbed the strike with nothing more than a lift of his brow. Feel better now?
No, but you deserved that and more. Darcys eyes glittered. You destroyed a cover thats held for three years. Apparently, you also lost whoever it was you tackled, so now I get to spend a sleepless night wondering who he was, why you felt the need to rush to my rescue and what you stand to gain from it. Do you know what youve done, Marlowe? Do you have any idea?
You want to take another swing, dont you? he asked without rancor.
Love to. Her lips curved. Will you stand still and let me?
I might.
The answer was just unexpected enough to make her laugh. Then suspicion moved in and she circled him with caution. Who hired you? Was it Vince?
Umer Lugo.
She stopped. Who?
Not your dying, ninety-two-year-old grandfathers lawyer, I assume.
My dying She shook the question away as her thoughts slid in a more disturbing direction. Where is he? The guy who jumped me?
He grabbed your neighbors bike and took off. He was gone by the time I reached the corner.
Darcy released a frustrated breath. Let me get this straight. Whether by accident or design, you sicced someone on me. Then you switched sides and ran him off. Im an investigative reporter, Marlowe. Oh, but wait, you already know that. You also know my real name. You relayed my alias to Umer Lugo, who very likely relayed it to Frankie Maco. By rights, I should be dead, and you should be home counting your money. So tell me, Mr. New York P.I., why isnt the story playing like that?
You dont trust me.
Last I checked, I was a sane American female. Whats the deal? Why are you here?
Call it a rare attack of conscience, likely spawned by the fact that I was a cop in a former life. Losing the guy who jumped you pisses me off, but nowhere near as much as letting myself be set up.
Frankie Macos very good at setups. Do you know who Frankie is?
His mug shot made the rounds before I left the force.
And there it is. You didnt do your homework. Umer came up clean, so you were good to go. Bet he paid you plenty, huh?
Enough. Look, Shannon
Darcy. A false smile. For what its worth and what might be salvageableprobably not much Ive been Darcy Nolan for three years now. I prefer to keep as many doors closed and windows open as I can. When something rustled the bushes near the fence, she sighed. Much as I hate to suggest this, we should probably finish our chat inside, where no one can come crashing through a hedgerow on a stolen bike. Can you imagine the headline? My editor would have the exclusive shes been longing for, followed by book and screenplay rights. All things good in her world.
Marlowe picked up her bags as she started for the stoop. Shes not a friend?
Oh, Elaine and I are friendly enough, but longings are longings, after all.
You dont sound bitter.
Bitterness is a destructive emotion. I prefer being positive.
And you can find a shred of that here?
She tossed a smile over her shoulder. Of course I can. Three years, a name change and one late-night attack later, Im still alive.
HE DIDNT WANT TO step inside her home. Didnt want to know her, or anything more about her than was absolutely necessary. Simpler, smarter, easier to keep her at arms length and think of her in two dimensions rather than three.
Unfortunately, it was too late for that, and the anger crawling in his belly wasnt the kind he could push away. He deposited her bags next to the door, then followed her down a wide corridor to the kitchen.
Shadows hung everywhere in the old house. They spilled over the upstairs railing and slashed through the carved wood of the banister, lengthened on the hardwood floors and darkened cream walls.
In the kitchen, she switched on the overhead light. Heres the deal. You tell me what I deserve to know, and you can have a beer.
Unexpected amusement rippled through him. Ive given you the meat, Darcy, all true and more or less verifiable. Lugo called, said hed been referred to me by a former client. The client vouched for him. Money was good, man came up clean, I took the case.
She headed for the fridge. Tell me, were you this gullible as a cop?
He gave a humorless laugh. Goes hand in hand with cynical, insensitive and dont give a rats ass about other people.
Sounds like burnout to me.
Any way you look at it, I screwed up, and youre paying the price. You get killed, itll be on my conscience.
Well, hey, dont sugarcoat the possibilities.
Do you want them sugarcoated?
What I want, she replied, is Umer Lugos phone number. I want to know who hired him. Because while Im ninety-five percent sure one of Frankie Macos family members is behind this, Ive done other stories about a few other people who might not like some of the things Ive said. She waved her hand. A lot of stories, actually. Anyway, my point is that knowledge is the key, and the key in this case is one Umer Lugo.
The beer she tossed him was ice-cold and medium dark.
Marlowe let his gaze travel over her body. Shouldnt, but it wasnt as if hed walked in unprepared.
She was pretty, all right. Beautiful, if you liked moonlight blondes with mile-long legs, sultry blue eyes and a killer smile. Her hair was straight, shoulder-length and made him think of silk. The edgy razor cut suited her. It was also the only noticeable change shed made to her appearance since leaving L.A. three years ago.
And now, he looks. She pushed off gracefully from the fridge. Dont worry, Marlowe, Im not going to seduce you. I only pull out the Mata Hari card when theres a chance itll work. Guys who claim not to give a rats ass about people arent likely to succumb.
You like positive, I like simple. Just so were clear.
As Mississippi mud. Now, about Lugo.
He twisted off the top, drank deeply. He said hed be staying in the city until you got back. That might or might not be true. Lowering the bottle, he asked, Do you have a laptop?
You dropped it by the front door. She uncapped a bottle of orange juice. Why would he hang around? she mused. Then she considered. How old is he?
Fifty-eight.
Muscular and tall?
Five-six and stocky with a hump on his back.
Charming. Do you have the name of his hotel?
Give me five minutes on your computer and I will.
She started toward him, dangerous in a way only a man on the edge would understand. And then?
Because he knew what she was thinking, he used the beer to cover a burgeoning smile. Sorry to disappoint you, Darcy, but Ive dealt with reporters before. I go in alone, you follow me. So well save time and do this together.
Setting her tongue on her upper lip, she tipped her head to the side, strolled closer and assessed him from top to bottom. Youre a man of mystery and surprise, Marlowe. I foresee all kinds of problems between us.
I see them here and now.
Humor sparkled in her eyes. You can drop the guard. I told you I wouldnt play the seduction card, and I meant it.
Was he on guard? Maybe. Probably. Didnt mean he had to ditch a rather intriguing situation. He just had to make sure he didnt get tangled up in it.
Taking another drink, he let his gaze slide over her face. Im not afraid of you.
The sparkle blossomed into a smile. Oh, I believe that. Your kind isnt afraid of any woman.
Im a kind?
Very much so. Youre immovable, inscrutable, emotionally distant, and if I were a female rat, I wouldnt even consider exposing my ass to you. Unfortunately, youre also hot and sexy, and Im going to guess chock-full of bad-boy vices. Makes you irresistible to a female like me. Therefore letting a sly look steal across her face, she hooked her finger around the front of his T-shirt and gave a tug my feeling is, we should get this out of the way now, before we move on.
A thread of amusement, mostly dark, wove through his system. Im not a gentleman, Darcy.
Well, Im shocked.
Eyes glittering, he let the darkness have its way, set the bottle down and trapped her jaw between the fingers and thumb of his right hand.
Lady, this is one mistake Im going to enjoy. Leaving no time for second thoughts, he covered her mouth with his.
HE TASTED LIKE SOMETHING forbidden, something she should run from and not look back.
He went in deep, and he savored. He made light and color shimmer to life in her head. When he finally stepped back, it took several long moments for the drumbeat hed created in her blood to subside.
Now that, she thought through a lovely warm haze, was a kiss.
He didnt say a word afterward, just stared into her eyes, then turned and walked out.
Darcy knew his mind was working. On what, she wasnt sure. But that was enigmatic for you.
He returned a moment later with her laptop. The haze vanished when he told her where Umer Lugo was staying.
It took them twenty-five minutes to reach their destination in Marlowes Land Rover. During that time, Darcy rattled off a dozen questions, most of them concerning the state of Lugos mental health.
The Declaration Inn. She read the dimly lit sign from the parking lot off the westbound Interstate. Aka the Bates Motel. I see five cars, three of them old and rusty, outside four doors. The only visible lights are in the lobby, and theres no one behind the desk.
Marlowe surveyed the low structure as they got out of the car.
Question, she said as they navigated the ravaged lot. Why do you suppose Lugo is staying in a place like this?
With his fingers wrapped around her bare upper arm, Marlowe swept the line of doors. I dont know. He glanced down when she turned her ankle. You probably shouldnt have worn heels.
If Id known about this parking lot, Id have worn combat boots. And full camo gear, she thought, although the pale pink dress that stopped just above her knees and crisscrossed in the back was definitely cooler. I hope the manager isnt a weirded-out mamas boy. She peered through the spotty glass. Still no one in sight.
Easier for us to find Lugos room and get inside.
Its a fine line between cop and crook, isnt it?
Ex-cop.
And the line gets finer.
The lobby door creaked, but no bell announced them. In fact, the only sound came from a pair of droning flies and a whiny Merle Haggard song emanating from the dusty wall speakers.
Steadier now on the cracked linoleum tiles, Darcy eased her arm free. In her mind, she was still going over a kiss that had left her breathless and oddly light-headed. At this moment, though, and given the circumstances, distance was more prudent.
She ran a finger down the open register while Marlowe checked out the shadowy back room. Theres someone named Jones in three, she told him. A double X in eleven and a squiggly line with two big rabbit ears in five.
Anything that looks like Lugo? Marlowe asked from the inner door.
She ran the list. Lucky number seven. Then she glanced at the Peg-Board. Theres no key.
Returning to the desk, Marlowe took her hand. Lets go.
Drawing a gun she hadnt realized he was carrying from the waistband of his jeans, he nodded forward.
At the door of room seven she gave two firm taps. Mr. Lugo? Its Darcy Nolan.
Five seconds ticked by. Mr. Lugo? she tried again. Are you there?
No light came on.
Doors paper-thin, she noted. Unless he sleeps with earplugs, Id say hes Oh, God, youre not. A credit card?
Seconds later, Marlowe opened the door to an expanse of black, the smell of must and Rambo playing on a very old TV.
He located a tippy floor lamp. The low-watt bulb cast a long shadow over a pair of twin beds, an open bottle of Bordeaux and an unzipped suitcase.
Darcy swung in a slow circle. Well, this is really icky. Even on the lam, Janet Leigh wouldnt have showered in a motel room that had splotchy walls and vermin in the once green carpet.
Theres a reason he chose this place, Marlowe told her. He switched on a second lamp.
It didnt help, only made it possible for Darcy to step over the more suspect stains.