Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8) - Page 6/53

The opportunity lost for the moment, she’d have to pick up his trail later. After buying a wreath of pink, peach, cream, and lavender blossoms at the floral shop down the street, she drove to the hiking trail where her mother had been murdered, intending to pay her respects like she did once a week, no matter what else was going on with her life.

Although the conversation she was going to have with her mother today wasn’t her usual kind.

She still felt angry that her mother had to die in the prime of her life and that she hadn’t heeded Alicia’s warnings. Alicia was driven with the need to avenge her mother’s death and saddened by missing her so. But this time a man she didn’t even know had made her feel something different. More alive than she’d felt in years. Distracted from her mission.

Neither of her former husbands had made her feel the way Jake had with his heroics and sizzling kisses. Never had her body melted into a pool of ecstasy from the simple touch of a man’s fingers at her back as he guided her outside or from the way he looked as though he wanted to eat her for dessert—her treat—after he’d so gallantly paid for her breakfast.

He was dangerous, all right. And armed!

She’d joked about it, but she’d really been flattered she could arouse him that much just by kissing him back. Of course, she told herself that she was only doing what she had to do to prove to Mario’s breakfast companion that she truly did know Jake intimately and had backup if she needed it. But the way Jake had reacted showed he was playing the game for keeps—at least for an overnight tryst, she assumed. Even though she suspected he was not the kind of person who frittered away hours doing inconsequential things. Neither was she. Her mother had always said she was way too serious. But for Alicia, it had been a case of survival.

Still, after her two husbands and a number of no-account boyfriends, for the first time ever, Alicia was really feeling something for a man—just because of the kind and interested way Jake had treated her.

Alicia parked at the trailhead, changed out of her heels, and slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. Then, with the fragrant wreath in hand, she hiked along Spruce Creek Trail to where her mother had died, the summer breeze twisting tendrils of hair around Alicia’s cheek and the sweet scent of pine drifting to her.

As she often did on the hike, Alicia thought about her mother, Missy Greiston, taking this very path as she started the trek to the Upper and Lower Mohawk Lakes to meet her lover at Continental Falls. Alicia had been there before and loved seeing the crystal water cascade in a foaming rush diagonally down a wildflower-blanketed hillside with alpine woods all around and abandoned mining cabins scattered over the area. But her mother had never made it that day. The macabre truth was that Tony Thomas, her mother’s lover, had been left for dead long before Missy would have reached his location.

Alicia thought about the times she and her mother had gone skiing on the mountain together—intermediate blue trails, not black-diamond expert runs for them, unless they skied onto them by accident. And they had done that a few times. They had laughed as they tried to make their way down the steep trails, taking one difficult mogul at a time. Stopping, skiing to the next one, and hoping they’d make it to the bottom without breaking their necks. Vowing never again to get on another expert slope. Until they made the same mistake later on a different black-diamond expert slope.

Alicia swallowed hard, hating that she still missed her mother so much and wishing that her mother had listened to her, believed her when Alicia had told her she thought the man her mother had been dating might be a mobster and dangerous to associate with.

She soon stood in the thick forested area where hikers had found Missy’s body and notified police. Despite it having been months earlier, Alicia still felt as though the murder had taken place only yesterday. She took a deep breath, having to make a confession to her mother. One she really didn’t want to make.

“Momma,” she said in a hush, crouching to place the flowers beneath a tree, “I’ve tracked down the family that killed you. Mario Constantino was the one who ordered the hit. Danny Massaro was the man who pulled the trigger. The judge set them free while awaiting trial, so they can eat in fancy restaurants, drink their fancy drinks, and have their fancy women.”

More strands of hair pulled loose from Alicia’s bun, flipping across her eyes. She snagged them and then slipped them behind her ear.

“But the one, Danny Massaro? He’s already skipped his trial, so as soon as I can manage, I’m turning him in to the police. Once Mario misses his trial date, I’ll re-arrest him, too. I swore to you…” Alicia swallowed hard. “I swore to you I’d make them pay.”

A tear and then another slid down her cheek, and she hastily brushed them away. “I’ve been…” She wiped away a couple of more tears. “I’ve been missing you something awful. Everything reminds me of you—the little tea shop on Main Street that we used to eat at, even that Victorian restaurant, Victoriana, across the street from the art gallery.” Her throat felt clogged with tears.

“I… I followed Mario into that restaurant this morning. Our restaurant. The bastard,” she said softly. “But I met someone else there today. And… well, it made me think of something other than revenge for a change.”

That made her feel guilty. How could she think about a man as beguiling as Jake Silver and how nice it would be to date someone like him, when she had a promise to fulfill?

She didn’t say anything for a while as she looked up at the wisp of clouds dotting the blue sky. She thought about how this was just like the kind of day she used to enjoy on nature walks with her mother and how her meeting with Jake would have been a godsend, if not for what Mario and Danny had done to her mother.

“I’m not sure you’d approve of him.” Alicia gave a sad little laugh. “You never really liked any of the guys I dated, and no wonder. They were all losers. But Jake, well, he seems different somehow. Dangerous in a good way.” She stood and took a shaky breath. “You know what a mess I’ve always made of my life when it comes to guys.” Just like her mother’s relationships with men.

“I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Only that Jake made me realize I wasn’t totally dead like I thought I was. But it scares me. Not only because my past relationships were such disasters, but also what if I fall for someone like Jake, and Mario or his thugs kill him, too?”

She knew they wouldn’t hesitate to make her hurt even more than she did now. She folded her arms around herself and rubbed them, suddenly feeling a chill. She’d already lost her mother to these men. She didn’t want them killing anyone else she felt something for.

As much as she wanted to have lunch with Jake later and see him further, she couldn’t. For now, men and relationships were out of the question. Deep down, she knew that. Knew she couldn’t keep their “date.” That was why she’d had to slip away from him back in town. To get away from his enticing presence so she could think clearly again.

Car doors slammed near where she’d parked, and her whole body tensed with worry. Turning to look, she watched the path for some time until a dark-haired man and a blond woman—hand in hand, and both wearing shorts and T-shirts—appeared, strolling along the hiking trail with their backpacks bulging. Alicia took a relieved breath.

They looked at her with odd expressions. The suit jacket and skirt and sneakers probably puzzled them until they saw the memorial wreath propped up by the tree and murmured greetings as they walked by her.

Unless they were out-of-towners, they’d probably heard about her mother’s murder. Many people knew about the flowers she set out each week on the spot where her mother had been murdered. Someone always took away the spent flowers before she returned. At least, that’s what she told herself. If someone was stealing her mother’s flowers after Alicia left, she hoped they put them to good use.

The hiking couple had long since disappeared along the path and through the woods. Alicia was about to say her good-byes to her mother so she could go back to town and try to catch up with Mario again, when two more car doors slammed shut in the parking area. Hikers, more than likely. Still, she watched the path with apprehension, waiting for their appearance, unbuttoning her jacket in case she had to get to her gun, and hoping some of Mario’s henchmen weren’t coming to pay their last respects.

Mary Clebourne identified herself as the gallery owner. She’d frowned at Jake’s brusque greeting and jumped when he set the box of photographs on the desk a little too firmly.

He quickly said, “Price them however you see fit. I’d planned to meet with you earlier this morning when you were supposed to be open, but I’ve got another commitment right now.”

She seemed to gather her wits and frowned even deeper. “We need you to sign some paperwork and—”

“I’ll return later today,” Jake said, heading for the door. It wasn’t like him to let his imagination get away from him, but after the thug had threatened Alicia in the restaurant, Jake couldn’t quit worrying about her.

“But…” the woman said.

Jake let the door swing shut on his departure as he rushed to his truck. He glanced up the street at the floral shop and noted that Alicia’s car was no longer parked there. Hell.

With his truck in gear, he tore off down the street and jammed on his brakes in a parking spot at the floral shop. Barely shutting his vehicle’s door, he stalked into the fragrant, refrigerated store where bouquets of flowers and pots of plants resting on terra-cotta tiles decorated four-tier circular shelves.

Dressed in a blouse and skirt covered in red roses, a gray-haired woman smiled in greeting, dimples appearing on her full cheeks. “May I help you, sir?”

“A woman came in here wearing a black suit, her hair dark brown, and… her name is Alicia Greiston. I need to track her down.” He sounded as desperate as he felt.

The smile instantly fell from the florist’s face, and a grave sadness marred her appearance. But she hesitated to say where she might think Alicia had gone.