Get a Clue

'If you never try, you've failed before you've begun.'

'I have tried.'

'No, you went through the motions, but you've never really put yourself out there. Not like you did with me.'

'Cooper.' Words failed. She shook her head. 'You scare me, you know that? All the way to the bone.'

'You either want to see me outside of here, or you don't.'

'This is about mote than that, and you know it,' she said. 'We already know we're sexually compatible. Now you're asking me if it can be more.'

'Why can't it?' he asked. 'I like you. You like me. Let's take it where it goes.'

'But how will we know if it's right? How will we ever know?'

With a shrug, he pulled on his jeans as if they were discussing the weather. 'You just do.'

'You're telling me you know?'

'Yeah. I do.'

For some reason, that made her mad. She shoved back the covers and got out of bed. Stalked toward him. Poked a finger in his chest. 'Well, maybe it's not that easy for me.'

'Why not?'

His eyes were clear and full of things that took her breath. She knew he had a slow and easy smile, somehow both so sweet and sexy that she always felt like smiling back when he flashed it at her. She knew how he made her feel with just a look, which was so damn special she always felt as if she could take on the world.

'Why not?' he asked again, softly, giving her one of those looks now.

'When you look at me like that,' she whispered, 'I lose my place.'

'So start at the beginning,' he whispered back. 'And tell me again why this can't work.'

'Besides the fact that we're so different?'

“Yeah, besides that.'

'Besides the fact that neither of us is currently employed?'

'Sounds to me like a great time for a change.'

'Damn.'

'Is that 'Damn, you're right'?' he asked. 'Or 'Damn, he's lost his mind'?'

She just shook her head, frozen to the spot.

His smile congealed a bit but he slowly nodded. 'I'll tell you what. I'm going to go start digging.'

'What am I supposed to do?'

'I don't know. You could sit here and keep letting life pass you by.'

'Hey, I don't let life pass me by! In fact, that's the problem. I jump at things without thinking them through.'

No longer quite so calm, he shoved his arms into a T-shirtand pulled it on. Inside out. Swearing, he ripped it off and righted it. 'You get a jump on ignoring this thing between us, Breanne.' He grabbed a fleece sweatshirt. 'Because I can't convince you that this would be a good decision, or that you're just afraid because deep down you know it's different, that what we have would be better than anything else you've ever done. That this is real and deep and yeah, scary as hell, but worth it. You go ahead and pretend you don't know any of that.' His hair was sticking straight up as he jammed on his shoes. 'And I'll get us out of here so you can rush back to that life you want so badly, where you can pretend you never met me, where you can pretend you didn't fall as hard and as fast as I did-'

'Cooper-'

'Don't.' Whipping around, he pointed at her. 'Don't even try to tell me I'm wrong.'

She couldn't, she didn't have the breath, and when he'd left, quietly shutting the door behind him, she turned to the bed, looking at the rumpled sheets, remembering how much she'd shared with him right there in that spot. It'd only been a few nights, and yet she'd shared more with him than she had with any other man.

How had that happened?

And what did it mean?

Afraid she knew, she reached for her clothes. She'd just laced up her boots when she heard pounding feet. Going to the door, she opened it. Shelly was running toward the stairs. 'Shelly?'

Shelly stopped. Turned back. Wearing a long, flowing, flowery skirt and a blue hoodie sweatshirt with the hood up, she smiled tentatively.

'What, you're taking fashion lessons from Dante now Breanne asked.

Shelly's smile went from anxious to nervous as she pulled the hood off her head. Her hair wasn't neatly pulled in its usual ponytail, but wild and uncombed. Probably from another Dante romp.

'So where's the fire?' Breanne asked her.

'Fire?' Shelly's eyes went wide. 'Oh, my gosh, there's a fire? Fire!' she screamed, and then went running.

'No, I was just-Shelly, come back! It was just an expression, there's no-Damn it.' Breanne took off after her, moving down the stairs.

Daylight streamed in all the windows. It was the first time since she'd been here that she'd seen the place in full light, and she was blown away by the difference. Everything seemed warm and cozy, gorgeously simple, not gloom and doom. Above, the sky was a squinting azure blue, so big and bright as it shined through the skylights it almost hurt to look. At the bottom of the stairs, she could see through the foyer windows. Everyone was outside. Patrick and Cooper were bent over one snowmobile, its hood up. Dante was over the other one. Beside him was Lariana and… Shelly. She wore dark jeans and her fluffy white sweater that went to her knees, her hair up in a perfect ponytail.

No skirt. No sweatshirt. No wild hair.

Breanne turned and stared down the hallway past the kitchen, where she could still hear footsteps running away from her. 'Shelly?' Feeling almost disembodied from reality, Breanne took one more look outside, then turned and headed down the hall. 'Hello?'

'No one's here!'

That was Shelly's voice. Breanne would have sworn it, but Shelly was outside, she'd just seen her there. With goose bumps raised over every inch of her body, Breanne came to the kitchen.

Empty. 'Hello?' she called out, half afraid to get an answer.

'I told you, no one's here! Don't you listen?'

The voice hadn't come from the kitchen. Breanne moved out of there, past the dining room, which was also empty. 'Where are you?'

'Go away!'

The voice came from the back, the hallway with the servants' rooms. It was darker here, but not as dark as it had been on previous visits. Uneasily, Breanne stared at the door to the cellar straight ahead, beyond which lay Edward's body. Then she turned and eyed the other four doors, all closed.

She could feel someone behind one of them. 'Who are you?'

'I'm not telling,' came the soft whisper. 'I'm not supposed to tell.'

Chapter 27

Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.

– Breanne Mooreland's Journal Entry