Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [67]
“My mother told me that the reason I hated you so much was because a part of me still loved you,” Mike admitted.
Lorie remained completely silent.
“I think Molly agreed with Mom.”
“Oh, Mike.”
“Molly knew I loved her, that I’d never betray her. We had a good life together. She gave me two fantastic kids. If she were still alive…I wish you could have known her. You two would have liked each other. It’s my fault that you never got the chance to…” He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Lorie, sorry for so much.”
She brought his hand to her lips, turned it palm side up, and kissed the center of his open hand. Her kiss burned like fire. He closed his eyes for a second and prayed for strength.
Easing his hand from her gentle grasp, he said, “No more mixed signals, no more confusion.”
She looked at him with hope in her eyes. His next words erased that hope.
“A part of me does still care,” he admitted. “And I’d be lying if I said that as a normal, red-blooded man, I didn’t want you. But…we can’t…I can’t…I have to think about Hannah and M.J. and what’s best for them. They have to come first.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“My sordid past makes me unsuitable stepmother material.”
“God, Lorie, I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
She pulled away from him, opened the door, and jumped out of the truck. He sat there and watched her hurry up the sidewalk and back into her house.
“Damn, damn!” He beat his clenched fists against the steering wheel.
Chapter 14
After the unsettling night before, Lorie had decided not to open the shop until eleven, so she was still at home when the phone rang at ten fifteen that morning. She looked down at the portable phone on the kitchen counter and checked the caller ID. She didn’t recognize the caller’s name. Anthony Johnson.
Shelley glanced at her and then at the phone.
“Let the answering machine get it,” Lorie said.
After the fourth ring, the answering machine clicked on, with Lorie’s voice reciting her number and asking the caller to leave a message.
“Lorie, if you’re there, please pick up,” a female voice said. “It’s Shontee, Shontee Thomas.”
Lorie grabbed the phone off the base. “Shontee?”
“Thank the Good Lord you’re there. I can’t tell you how much I need to talk to you. I’m about half out of my mind and know you must be, too. Somebody from the Powell Agency called me this morning, asking me if I’d gotten any threatening letters, telling me that somebody sent Dean, Hilary, and Charlie letters and then killed them.”
Lorie remembered Shontee as a bubbly, fun-loving girl with huge brown eyes and an infectious laugh. They hadn’t known each other very long—they met during the filming of the one movie they’d made together.
“Then you’ve received the letters, too?” Lorie asked.
“Yeah, four of them,” Shontee replied. “My fiancé hid them and didn’t show them to me until yesterday. Good thing he did or when the Powell Agency called this morning, I wouldn’t have known what they were talking about. They said that they’re contacting everyone who was involved with Midnight Masquerade.”
“Did whoever you spoke to tell you that I’ve hired the Powell Agency and so have Dean’s brother and Hilary’s husband? We’ve hired them to do an independent investigation to find out who sent the letters and killed Dean, Hilary, and Charlie.”
“That’s one of the reasons I’m calling—Tony, my fiancé, wants us to be part of this deal. He says we need to be in the loop on all the info.”
“I agree with your Tony. The more we all know, the better off we are. It’s too late to save Dean and Hilary and Charlie, but the rest of us can band together and help one another. The Powell Agency should be working for all of us.”
“Do you have a bodyguard?” Shontee asked.
“Yes, I have someone from the agency with me twenty-four/seven. I’m sure they can provide a bodyguard for you.”
“Tony’s already taken care of that. He keeps several bodyguards on his payroll. He’s a nightclub owner, and rich men like him need protection. Oh, Lorie, I wish you could meet my Tony. He’s a great guy and I’m crazy about him.”
“It sounds like you’ve really