Tempting Target Page 2

His devotion to justice certainly went a long way toward cementing that feeling, but it was something more. Something hovering just out of reach. A sense, really, that Reed Graystone was more than the sum of his parts.

  And there she had it. Where her business used to be full of estrogen and wedding talk, it had devolved into discussions centered on danger, decades-long deception and men who gave her moon eyes over her gooey, pork-infused pastries.

  She wasn’t a fanciful woman—she’d lost that skill long ago—but even she wasn’t immune to that juxtaposition.

  “Come on. Back in the main office so we can discuss finally getting back to normal.” She didn’t miss the matched looks of longing across all three men’s faces at the small scattering of appetizers on the warmed plate. “After, of course, I throw another batch in the oven.”

  * * *

  Reed snatched the last puff pastry—more to piss Max Baldwin off than any real hunger—and watched the byplay between the three women who had descended into his life like Dorothy in the middle of Oz.

  While he didn’t quite feel as if he had a house on his head, he was increasingly concerned how his world had exploded in vivid Technicolor.

  Speaking of color...

  Lilah returned, now with a plate of desserts that drew a worshipful expression from Max, and set them down on an oversize coffee table in the main area of what Reed supposed was a bridal salon. A long wall of mirrors and elaborate-looking dressing rooms stood on the far wall and he had positioned himself in a very large velour chair in a shade of red that screamed brothel or a Louis of France. Fourteenth? Fifteenth? Who the hell knew.

  Buchanan’s boxer, Bailey, watched with equally worshipful eyes until Lilah pulled a boiled soup bone from behind her back. Those solemn brown eyes nearly rolled into the back of his square head as she offered it to him.

  If dogs could talk, Reed suspected he’d have heard a prayer of thanksgiving. As it were, the ugly—yet lovable—beast gently took the bone between his teeth and trotted toward a welcome mat near the front door.

  The dog had lain near that door since all of them had assembled earlier, his devotion to his task only pulled away by the arrival of the food. While he didn’t consider himself a fanciful man, Reed could only think of the boxer’s behavior as sentinel duty.

  He keyed in to the reassuring feel of his gun strapped to his ankle, but couldn’t deny the presence of the large dog offered a damn good bit of reassurance, as well.

  He turned back to Lilah, color exploding before his eyes once more as he looked at her. It wasn’t simply the vivid pink streak that stood out in her blond hair, currently brushed behind her ear, but it was her.

  The woman just transmitted pink in everything she was.

  Her warm, rosy cheeks. A wide, generous mouth, with plump cherry-colored lips that had drawn his gaze more times than he could count. And her usual pair of thick pink plastic shoes that seemed her perpetual choice of footwear.

  Even with her nondescript white baker’s coat and black slacks, when Reed looked at her he saw pink. The fact that he found that wash of color so enticing was only the latest surprise in a long line of them over the past few days.

  “We need a plan to draw them out.”

  Reed keyed back in to the discussion, his ears ringing with the mention of a plan. “I went along with you on this once but not again. You need to get those damn stones out of your possession.”

  “We’ve been over this.” Lilah’s voice was quiet, her usual animation gone. “No one, not even the Dallas PD, will be able to protect all of us. And without the stones we don’t have any leverage.”

  “And with them you’re all sitting ducks.” Reed was done pussyfooting around the argument. He understood the choice to hide the jewels. And while he didn’t have to like it, he also knew his jurisdiction to do anything about it was suspect.

  But he’d be damned if he was going to sit there and let them talk about drawing out some criminal who was determined to get ahold of the find. Especially after their faceless enemy had proven how ruthless he was in his pursuit to acquire them.

  The break-in that had started it all had devolved into a body dumped at the back door and an attempted kidnapping on Cassidy. Although they’d determined the responsible party for the body was Robert Barrington, Cassidy’s ex-fiancé, the man’s lack of history as one of Dallas’s criminal masterminds didn’t sit well with Reed.

  Someone else was pulling the strings.

  Reed took a cream puff and considered the rest of the players. Although he’d initially given Buchanan a second look, the man’s devotion to helping the women and his subsequent relationship with Cassidy had changed Reed’s mind.

  Buchanan’s partner, Max Baldwin, was an interesting one. Stoic and stiff, he’d obviously come to understand the implications of taking possession of the stones after their discovery. And, in his remorse, had grown gruff and impatient as they worked through various scenarios.

  Reed also hadn’t missed the byplay between Max and Violet. His career was all about observing people, and the two of them had something going on, even if it was just a massive case of verbal foreplay.

  But none of it changed the fact Violet was mad Max accidently focused the mastermind’s attention onto the women. She was smart and sharp, but her every exchange with the man held decidedly tart edges and a layer of frustration that his impulsive act had put them in this position in the first place.

  Reed rubbed the back of his neck, willing away the tension curled there. This was a case, nothing more. He had no right to be mad or frustrated with the three women who’d had their livelihood—and their lives—interrupted.

  But nothing about this case had been easy or smooth and he was increasingly coming to care about what happened to this crew.

  So here they were. Four days into an endlessly circulating argument that he hadn’t figured a way around.

  The women had jewels that they were rightfully allowed to possess. Said jewels had a bad history and an even worse present. And none of them were willing to give them up.

  Damn it.

  He always knew how to figure his way around a problem. It was the Reed Graystone way of life. He was good at figuring his way around problems.

  Cassidy’s phone ringing punctuated the tense silence and he saw the quick flash in her eyes that suggested she’d like to ignore it, before a reluctant sigh had her off the couch and headed for the hallway. Bailey glanced up at her with an adoring expression as she moved toward the back of the shop—another sign of just how in this together the women of Elegance and Lace and the men of Dragon Designs were.

  Even the dog had adopted the women as his own.

  Reed’s gaze drifted to Lilah and he fought the swell of attraction that always punctuated his interactions with her.

  How had it come to this?

  His thoughts had been consumed by a woman who lived and breathed pink and who perpetually smelled like vanilla frosting. And even if the vanilla was a side effect of her job as baker extraordinaire, the pink was just a flat-out choice.

  He liked long, lithe women who dressed in all black and avoided commitment like the plague.

  Instead, he’d found himself increasingly intrigued with a woman who looked like a cross between a guardian angel and a pixie with a Pepto-Bismol addiction.

  Cassidy waved from the hallway, the dark expression on her face a match for the somber words she murmured over and over. “When? How? Who would do that?”

  Tucker crossed to her, his arms around her as she continued to murmur in shocked surprise.

  “What is it?” Violet spoke first as soon as Cassidy had hung up the phone.

  “Robert was found dead. Out in an empty field near Fair Park.”

  Robert, the ex-fiancé who’d tried to kidnap her.

  “Murdered, more like.” The
words were out before Reed could pull them back or soften the implication, and he was already reaching for his phone to contact the investigating officer.

  Lilah spoke first, her vivid features going ashen with the question. “But wasn’t he in jail?”

  “Which means whoever’s been behind all this got to him or managed to post bail for him.” Reed dropped his phone back into his pocket. The call could wait.

  “Where the hell did he find a judge who would let him post bail?” Tucker’s anger exploded like a gunshot. “The bastard attempted premeditated murder.”

  “That’s what I need to find out.”

  * * *

  Lilah busied herself in her kitchen, the long, sleek countertops shining like a homing beacon as she set out trays of ingredients. Cupcakes today, for a wedding shower in Highland Park, followed by a delivery of a luscious Italian crème cake for a ninetieth-birthday party. The grandmother of a happy bride they’d taken care of the previous spring.

  It was a light day, relatively speaking, and Lilah thought she might work on a few designs for an upcoming holiday wedding. She’d tried several poinsettia designs in fondant and hadn’t yet settled on what she wanted.

  Anything to keep her mind off the matter at hand.

  Attempted kidnapping. Stolen jewels. Murder.

  A hard shiver gripped her shoulders as she thought of Cassidy’s former fiancé. She’d never liked Robert Barrington, even if she’d never been exactly sure why, but she certainly had never wished the man dead.

  Of course, that was before he’d attempted to kidnap and attack her best friend.

  Lilah wrapped her arms around her midsection at the all-too-recent memory. She was deeply grateful Cassidy was okay, but knew her friend still had a long road ahead. Robert had almost gleefully shared the horrific news that Cassidy’s sister had been murdered by her husband years earlier.

  Cassidy had worked so hard to move on from the loss of her sister. To have the truth revealed in such a callous manner only reinforced what an evil man Robert had truly been.

  She fought off another shiver at the memories of her ex that always hovered just beneath the surface. The angry words. The dismissive statements. But when the statements had turned to fists...

  “Fitzgerald shower?”

  Cassidy’s statement pulled Lilah from her dark place, the memories skittering back into the shadows. “Yep.”

  “Champagne frosting?”

  “Of course.”

  “Yum.” Cassidy ran a hand down Lilah’s back, the comforting gesture at odds with their casual words.

  Lilah should have known her friend had seen the memories reflected in her eyes.

  True to form, Cassidy hovered an extra moment—waiting—but when Lilah said nothing, she moved on, pouring a cup of coffee at the counter before refilling Lilah’s own mug. “I’d offer to help, but since a Betty Crocker box mix and Rice Krispies treats are the limits of my baking abilities, I’ll keep you company instead.”

  “Never underestimate a woman who can microwave marshmallows.”

  “It’s a gift.” Cassidy laid the coffee down.

  “And the company’s always welcome.”

  They drifted through odds and ends of conversation. An upcoming wedding they each had a role in. Violet’s latest report from the Design District’s last town hall, including a collective promise from the nearby businesses to help keep a closer watch. And a new boutique that had opened in Uptown that they wanted to do some advance recon on.

  Normal. Comfortable. And deftly avoiding the elephant that sat on their chests like a lead weight.

  “You didn’t stay on long with your mom last night.” Lilah disengaged the paddles from her hand mixer, scraping each with a spatula before giving them to Cassidy. She knew her friend and her pleading puppy-dog eyes were a match for Bailey’s. Cassidy let out a small sigh of contentment.

  “No one’s batter tastes like yours.”

  “Naturally.”

  Lilah waited her own beat before pressing her point. “You haven’t told your mother what happened yet.”

  “No.” Cassidy shook her head, her blue eyes going wide.

  Lilah knew she wasn’t one to tell others how to make their family decisions, but, well, this was them. They were a unit and she’d be damned if she was going to keep her mouth shut.

  The news of Robert Barrington’s death was one more confirmation that things were spiraling out of control. “You need to tell her. For her own protection, she and your father need to know.”

  “She won’t keep it to herself.”

  Lilah began to transfer the rich, cream-colored batter into cupcake trays. “Then we need to convince her why she has to. We’ll give her enough information to make her understand and keep the rest to ourselves.”

  “She won’t. Not coming on the heels of the news about Leah.” Cassidy hesitated, her throat constricting as her eyes grew red at the rims. “I can’t tell her.”

  “Then we’ll help you.”

  Lilah kept her gaze focused on the neat, even rows of batter as the mixture filled each well of the muffin pan. She knew her friend struggled—from the close call with her ex to the even more startling revelation that her sister, Leah, was killed by her former brother-in-law.

  The news had come as a shock—Robert’s confession coming as he attempted to kidnap Cassidy—and Reed had begun working that murder angle, as well. Not that he’d been willing to share much the night before, which had been the ostensible reason for his visit.

  “You okay?”

  Lilah glanced up from the pan. “Yeah, why?”

  “You just looked really annoyed there for a minute.”

  Willing that strange mix of frustration and intrigue over the stoic detective to stop messing with her focus, Lilah smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m really glad Tucker is here.”

  “Me, too.” Satisfied the telling moment had passed, Lilah shifted to the next pan and continued the precise deposits of batter.

  “What did Robert get himself involved in?” Cassidy crossed to the sink and busied herself with rinsing off the beaters. “And how could I have been so oblivious?”

  “You were in love.”

  “No.” Her friend shook her head before turning at the sink. “I understand what it truly means to be in love now, and what I felt before wasn’t even close.”

  “It doesn’t mean you didn’t have feelings. Or a basic belief that your fiancé was above theft, kidnapping and possible murder.”

  Cassidy scrubbed at her cheeks, the tears fading in the bright morning sunlight that flooded the kitchen. “You sound so rational when you put it that way.”

  “Because it is rational. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words were honest—she meant each and every one—even as a tiny voice rose up and whispered what a hypocrite she was.

  Not to mention terribly inept at taking her own advice.

  “You’re right. I know you’re right. Maybe if I say it enough times I’ll believe it.”

  “Don’t worry.” Lilah ran a spatula around the rim of the bowl, capturing the last bit of batter for the cupcakes. “Tucker’s hell-bent on convincing you. And what he misses, Vi and I can manage.”

  “He’s surprisingly stubborn.” A tremulous smile tilted Cassidy’s lips. “Sort of like two friends I know.”

  Lilah dropped the now-empty bowl into the sink, then gave Cassidy a quick squeeze. “Skills, we’ve got ʼem.”

  “And you bake like an angel.” Cassidy’s arm wrapped tight around Lilah’s waist. “Is there no end to your talents?”

  “Nope.”

  Lilah reveled in the gentle affection, the love and comfort of her best friend going a long way toward banishing the dark memories that had accompanied her earlier.

  B
asking in the light of a pretty summer morning and the love of her best friend, she doggedly fought off the memories of a congenial man with the personality of a monster. The deception that lived behind a jovial wink and a knowing nod for the rest of the world.

  She’d left that nightmare behind over four years ago, and there was no way in hell she was ever going back.

  Chapter 2

  Reed scanned the paperwork on the clipboard and tried to make sense of what he saw. A hastily scribbled signature at the bottom of official papers ensured one Robert Barrington was released from jail three days ago.

  The printed name underneath the scrawl was no doubt fake, but Reed tapped it quickly into his phone before shoving it back into his pocket.

  “Thanks, Gannon.”

  The officer nodded, his face bright and eager, such a huge departure from the man he’d been a few years before. “Glad I could help.”

  “How’s the baby?”

  “Jade’s crawling already.” Gannon’s deep brown eyes sparkled brightly, a happy haze filling them up as he spoke about his daughter. A picture soon followed the words and Reed found himself oohing and aahing over a chubby little girl with mocha skin, eyes that matched her daddy’s and the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

  Reed let Gannon talk—partly because he was happy for the man and partly because it was good to see his old friend engaged in life again—and smiled through a story of how the baby had managed to wedge herself behind the couch while learning to crawl. “She’s amazing.”

  Reed could only nod his agreement. “Of course she is.”

  He let the conversation run out naturally, ending it with a quick handshake before he headed out into the noon sun. August was blazing in full force and he briefly toyed with marching back into the office building and finding something else to work on.

  He’d lived in Dallas his entire life. But even with thirty-two years of Texas summers under his belt, every time he thought he’d gotten used to the heat, about a million degrees rose up to slap him in the face.

  Or give him a full body hug was more like it.

  Reed slipped into his car, the quick blast of air from the vents keeping him company with his thoughts.