Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [107]
Then she saw it. The rust-colored stain on the floor below the ladder to the hayloft. Someone had tried to clean it up, but the stain seemed indelible. Covered by stray wisps of hay, the evidence of Andrew Prescott’s fall caused her to stop dead in her tracks.
There must have been so much blood….
She stepped backward, shivering.
Scraaape.
What was that?
The sound of leather against wood.
She wasn’t alone!
Heart hammering, she backed up, ramming into a post just as scuffed cowboy boots and long, jean-clad legs appeared on the ladder. “Someone here?” Trent called, just as he hopped to the floor, his boots avoiding the stain. He saw Jules and one side of his mouth lifted. “Lookin’ for me?” he asked, a bit of humor glinting in his brown eyes. He was still unshaven, his mouth a razor-thin line, his deep-set eyes cutting right to her soul.
“Definitely not looking for you to scare the hell out of me,” she said, hand over her heart.
“But you were looking for me.” A smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, and the corners of the stable seemed to grow closer. Tighter. The atmosphere suddenly thick.
“You tell me.”
“Nah.” He shook his head. “What’s the fun in that?”
She grinned, not able to believe him. “Wait a second, Cowboy. Are you flirting with me?” she asked, secretly pleased, even though the entire situation was surreal, considering the circumstances.
“Flirting? I don’t think so.” But the glint in his eyes told her differently. Her heart raced a little faster as she remembered exactly how it felt to kiss him, how his tongue touched the roof of her mouth and caused a tingle deep inside. How the crush of his lips brought heat to the back of her neck. How he’d made her go weak, her knees giving way of their own accord.
As if reading her thoughts, he said, “So what is it you want, Jules?”
“I hate to burst the bubble that’s your incredible ego, but I really didn’t think I’d find you here.”
One doubting eyebrow cocked.
As if she were challenging him. The way it had often raised just before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard, to prove the point that she wanted him.
She had to fight the urge to back up a step.
A paint with a white face and blue eyes pushed his head over the top of the box and snorted, sniffing. Jules moved toward the stall to stroke the gelding. “You think I have a treat,” she said to the horse to break the tension, “but I don’t.”
“Scout’s always looking for something,” he said.
“Typical male.”
“Yeah, well, don’t tell him, but he’s been gelded.”
“Oops.” She glanced at the horse. “Sorry, boy.” She felt Trent’s eyes on her, studying her. “You know, I really didn’t think I’d run into anyone in here.”
“So, what, you just came to the crime scene to look it over?”
“I guess.” She scratched Scout beneath his black forelock. It was hard to explain. She didn’t want to think she was the victim of morbid curiosity, but there was a part of her that wanted to know what had happened, to see for herself and connect with the victims. “I thought maybe if I saw where it happened, I’d have some idea of why and how it connects, if it connects to Lauren Conway’s disappearance. Don’t tell me the same thought didn’t cross your mind.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
“I came to Blue Rock to see what was going on and to get Shay out of here if I found out that the academy wasn’t the answer it was supposed to be.” She shook her head and bit her lip, thinking. “But even before I got here, things turned upside down, a girl killed. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Nothing does,” he admitted.
“Well, then, let’s add another cryptic note to the mix.” Jules retrieved the note from her pocket and handed it to him. “I found this under my door this morning.”
Trent read the simple message and frowned. “From Shay?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t think so.”
“Mind if I keep it?”
“Sure, but why?”
“I’m a deputy now,” he said,