Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard #6)

Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard #6) Page 17

Noah took it from her and gave her a warm smile. “That’s awfully nice of you. Thank you.”

“If you’re hungry,” she continued, “I could pop some corn or something.”

“No, thank you. I really appreciate the beer though.” He began to close the door. “Have a good night,” he said.

Amelia Ann angled her head to peer around the door at him. “If there’s anything else I can do…anything you need…you just call up to the front desk.”

“I will. Thank you,” he said as he closed the door.

When he returned to Jordan’s room, he was twisting the cap off a beer bottle.

“The lady who runs the motel…what was her name…?” he began.

“Amelia Ann?” Jordan supplied.

“Yes, Amelia Ann. She just brought us some beer. That was nice, wasn’t it? Want one?” he offered.

“No, thanks,” Jordan answered. “And I don’t think it was ‘us’ she wanted to be nice to.”

He took a swig from the bottle. “You still haven’t told me why you were crying,” he reminded her.

“It’s foolish.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I read this story the professor had transcribed, and it affected me. Would you like me to read it to you? Then you’ll understand.”

“Sure. Go ahead,” Noah said as he sat on the bed.

She began to read in a clear, concise voice, but by the time she reached the end of the tragic story, her voice trembled, and the tears were back.

Noah was laughing at her. He couldn’t help it. “You’re just full of surprises,” he said as he handed her the box of tissues. “I never would have guessed.”

“Guessed what?”

“You’re a romantic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a romantic.”

Jordan returned to the research papers and read another ridiculous account about the barbaric, bloodthirsty Buchanans. This legend wasn’t at all romantic but a detailed description of a gory battle which, according to Professor MacKenna, was started by the Buchanans.

“No surprise there,” she mumbled to herself.

“Did you say something?”

“The man taught history, for heaven’s sake. Medieval history. His class should have been called Fantasy because that’s what he was teaching.”

Noah smiled. When Jordan became passionate about something, her face lit up. How come he’d never seen this before?

“So what would you sign up for? Fantasy 101?” Noah asked.

“No, I’d call it Let’s Make Up Stuff 101.”

He laughed. “I’d take that class. Exams would be a snap. Is any of the research accurate?” he asked. He took a swallow of his beer and leaned back against the headboard.

“I don’t know,” she said. “The farther back in history, the crazier the legends become. But there’s some mention over and over again about a treasure that was stolen.”

“You know what they say.”

Jordan reached for the bottle in his hand and took a drink. “What do they say?”

“There’s always a thread of truth in every lie. Any guesses what the treasure was?”

She took another sip of his beer and handed it back before answering. “A jeweled crown is mentioned several times in different stories, but there’s also a mention of a jeweled sword.”

She took the bottle from him again, emptied it in one long gulp, and handed it back. Noah didn’t say a word. He simply got up and brought two bottles back with him.

“Move over, Sugar,” he said as he dropped down next to her.

She scooted out of his way. When he offered her a bottle, she shook her head.

“No, thank you. I’m not in the mood for beer tonight.”

“Is that right?”

She stacked the papers to put them back in the box. “Even though the professor’s research is grossly biased, he really believed there was a treasure. I’m sure he thought the Buchanans stole it from the MacKennas.”

“Do you think there was a treasure?”

She was embarrassed to admit it. “I do,” she said and then hastily added, “I’ve gotten caught up in all of this. Maybe I’m just being fanciful.” She sat back and stretched her legs out. “Some of the stories though…they’re fun to read because they’re so…out there.”

“Yeah? Tell me an out-there bedtime story.”

He put his untouched bottle of beer on the nightstand next to the one he’d offered Jordan, then crossed one ankle over the other and closed his eyes.

“I’m ready, Sugar. Once upon a time…Read me something gory.”

She filed through the papers until she found one especially bloody tale. It was quite graphic, which was probably why Noah enjoyed it so. When she was finished with that one, she told him about another battle.

“The legend describes two angels coming down to earth to escort a fallen warrior to heaven. This happened during a fierce battle. It was reported that all the warriors on both sides of the field saw the angels coming. Suddenly time stopped. Some of the warriors had swords raised, others were about to throw their lances or swing their maces, but they were all frozen in those stances. They watched transfixed as the warrior was lifted up into the sky.”

“What happened then?”

She shrugged. “I suppose they thawed out and continued with the battle.”

“I like these. Read another one,” he coaxed.

“Do you want to hear something romantic or something gory?”

He didn’t open his eyes when he replied, “Let me think about this. I’m in bed, and right next to me is a scantily clad woman who’s in dire need of a little action…”

She poked his side. “I am not scantily clad. I’m wearing shorts and a T-shirt. There’s nothing scanty about my clothing.”

His eyes remained closed, but he was grinning now. “But I happen to know that you’re not wearing anything underneath that T-shirt and shorts.”

She quickly looked down at her chest. Nothing showed through the fabric, thank God. “Only you would think about that.”

“Any man would.”

“I don’t believe that,” she scoffed.

He laughed. “It’s what we do.”

She tried to pull up the sheet, but it was trapped under his legs. “Why don’t you just not think about it.”

He opened one eye. “Don’t think about it?”

“Do you want to hear another story or not?”

“Huh.”

She sighed. “Huh what?”

“You didn’t argue with me about needing a little action.”

He had her there. “I didn’t feel it was necessary to respond to such an incorrect assumption. What story would you like to hear?”

He’d gotten her all riled up again. He didn’t know why he got such a kick out of her indignation, but he did. “Am I rubbing you the wrong way, Sugar?”

She rolled her eyes. Oh, brother. “You’re not rubbing me at all. I’m putting these papers away,” she warned.

“Sorry. It’s just that you’re real easy—”

She interrupted. “That’s what all the boys tell me,” she joked.

“Yeah? But are you any good?”

Her eyes sparkled playfully. “What do you think?”

Noah didn’t answer at first. He stared into her incredible blue eyes and lost his train of thought. Sexual banter had always come as second nature to him, but suddenly he had no reply. An image of Jordan—sans T-shirt, sans shorts, making love—whizzed through his head and rendered him speechless.

He grabbed the beer bottles on the nightstand and headed for his room. His words were gruff when he finally answered her. “I think I’d better get out of here.”

Chapter Sixteen

TWO PHONES RANG SIMULTANEOUSLY.

Jordan woke to the sounds coming from Noah’s room. She rolled over in bed and opened her eyes a crack as she listened to Noah answer the ring that sounded like his cell phone. She heard him ask “Darlin’” to hold on a minute, and then he answered the other ring. He obviously didn’t like whatever the caller was saying to him because his voice turned hard. Then he began to snap out orders. She heard him explain in his don’t-mess-with-me tone that he expected results by noon.

A few minutes later he strolled through the door. “That was Joe Davis on the line…” he began.

“Before you tell me what he has to say, you might want to talk to Darlin’ if she’s still holding on.”

“Ah, hell…” he said as he hurried back into his room.

She could hear him apologizing to the caller as he returned. He dropped down on Jordan’s bed, grabbed the edge of her T-shirt when she tried to get up, and said, “Hold on. She’s right here.” He handed his cell phone to her. “Sidney wants to talk to you.”

She didn’t believe her sister was on the line until she said hello.

“How come you have Noah’s phone number?” Jordan asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve always known it. That isn’t important now. Theo told me what happened. Did you know about the body when we talked before?”

“Before what? I don’t remember,” she said. “Does everyone know what happened?”

“Dylan and Kate don’t know, but then they’re on their honeymoon, so Alec didn’t think we should bother them with any worries. Jordan, tell me, are you okay?”

“Yes,” she assured her sister. “The police sorted it all out, and I’m coming home tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything then. I promise. Sidney…” she began.

“Yes?”

“Do Mom and Dad know what happened?”

“Nick called and talked to both of them.”

“He shouldn’t have,” she said. “They’ll worry, and they both have enough to think about now, what with the trial and all.”

“They would have found out. Zack would have let it slip.”

“Who told Zack?”

There was a long pause, and then Sidney said, “I might have mentioned it to him.”

Jordan didn’t want to argue. She talked to her sister for a few more minutes to reassure her and ended the call. As she handed the cell phone to Noah, she said, “When I found that body, I should have called Dylan.”

“Why? Because Nick told your family?”

She nodded. “Sidney insists they would have found out…”

“They would have.”

“Maybe,” she allowed.

After she had dressed and packed her things, she zipped her bag shut and went to the connecting door. Noah was snapping his gun holster closed.

“You were about to tell me what Chief Davis had to say,” she said.

“Right. He told me Sheriff Randy has no idea where his brother is. He said he has people looking for him.”

“Do you believe that story?”

“No,” he answered. “The sheriff knows exactly where J. D. is. He probably wants to sit down with Chief Davis and work something out before J. D. comes in. That’s my guess anyway.”

“Would the sheriff of Grady County usually handle a murder investigation?’

“Yes, but Davis told me he’s on vacation.”

“Hawaii,” she volunteered. “Why doesn’t the FBI help the chief?”

“Davis seems to think he can handle this without the FBI’s interference.”

“What about Lloyd? Has Davis spoken to him yet?”

“No,” he answered. “No one can find him. His garage was unlocked, but Davis says that’s not unusual. A lot of people in this town don’t lock their doors.”

“I’ll bet they do now. After all, one of their own was murdered.”

“Except Professor MacKenna wasn’t one of them. He didn’t own the house. He rented it, and he kept to himself. Very antisocial. No one really knew him.”

“I think Lloyd knows what happened. If he didn’t kill the professor, I’ll bet he knows who did. He was so nervous when I picked up the car. I think he knew the body was in the trunk.”

“I’d say he’s the primary suspect.”

“He couldn’t wait for me to leave,” she said. “And that was peculiar because when I first drove the car in, he hit on me and kept trying to get me to go out with him. He tried to keep me in town.”

“Did he continue to try to get you to go out with him after you threatened him?”

“I did not…oh, okay, I guess I did. But it was all so stupid. He asked me what I would do if my car wasn’t ready when I came back the second time, and before I could answer, he asked me if I would hurt him. I believe I agreed that I would.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t see. Lloyd happens to be a very big man. I would have to stand on a chair to hit him.”

“A chair, huh?”

She was irritated that he was making fun of her. “I went over all of this with Chief Davis, and I believe you were standing right there. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“Lloyd will turn up,” he predicted.

She nodded. “When do we meet Chief Davis at the professor’s house?”

He checked the time. “In an hour.”

“Would you mind if we stopped at the grocery store first? I’d like to photocopy the rest of the research papers. It shouldn’t take long, I promise.”

“All of those boxes need to go to Davis?” he said.

“Copies don’t have to go to him. I’m going to ask Candy if she’ll mail them to Boston for me.”

Candy was working at the front desk and was all in favor of helping out and making some extra spending money. Jordan filled out a form with the necessary mailing information, told Candy she would bring her the boxes to be mailed, paid her in advance, and headed back to her room.

Noah was leaning against his door talking to Amelia Ann when she returned. Amelia Ann had brought him coffee and a basket of homemade cinnamon rolls. Jordan noticed that she had put on makeup. The blouse she wore was tucked into her slacks, and the top three buttons were undone. Ten to one she was wearing a push-up bra. Amelia Ann’s nervous laughter followed her as Jordan walked into Noah’s room, grabbed the car keys from the desk, and said, “I’m going to start loading these boxes in the car.”