The Dead Come Calling Read online

  Smiling to myself at the thought of Mal suffering through a movie full of man candy, I left my bedroom and walked down the upstairs hallway toward the staircase. I jumped and choked back a scream as the door to the guest bathroom opened, letting loose a cloud of steam and the familiar scent of soap that emanated from Mal’s skin.

  Speaking of skin, I could see quite a bit of it. In fact nearly all. Standing in the open doorway, Mal clutched a tiny hand towel against his hips and wore nothing else but a sheepish expression. It was as if my thoughts of Magic Mike XXL had conjured up my very own hot, naked man.

  As I gaped at him, he smiled, but it was more an embarrassed smirk than anything else.

  “Um, I couldn’t seem to find any other towels,” he muttered.

  “Guh,” I replied, a droplet of water catching my eyes as it slithered down his collarbone. I followed its path down his pectoral, unable to tear my gaze away as it trailed over his abdomen and disappeared into the fluffy teal towel that barely covered his pelvis.

  “Damn, I forgot about the hand towel,” Teri complained behind me. “Still the view is pretty awesome. He must work out a lot to have a body like that.”

  Her words yanked me out of my lust-induced trance and I whirled to glare at her.

  “Seriously, Teri?” I growled. “What were you thinking?”

  She widened her eyes. “Uh, that I wanted to see what Hunkypants was packing. Duh.”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head without turning back toward the bathroom door. “I’m sorry, Mal.”

  “I take it Teri was responsible?” he asked, his voice right next to my ear.

  I realized he had come up behind me while I was talking to Teri and now he was standing less than a foot from me. My eyes popped open and I twisted around. I tried not to stare at his naked chest because I knew that would create the temptation to touch. Or maybe lick.

  I managed to meet his eyes and the heat and humor I saw in his deep brown gaze made my knees weak. Instead of responding verbally, I nodded my head.

  “I don’t think I mind anymore,” he replied quietly, inching closer until I could feel the damp heat of his skin through my t-shirt.

  “Mmmm-hhmmm,” Teri hummed to my left. “That boy has a fine ass.”

  Once again her words ripped through the spell cast by Mal’s naked body. Good grief, I’d never reacted this way to a naked man before, even when I was in bed with one.

  My cheeks heated and I knew that my face was bright red. “I’ll, uh, just go start the coffee,” I mumbled, stepping around Mal.

  I heard him chuckle quietly and glanced back over my shoulder to see him disappear into the guest room. As he shut the door behind him, I was glad he didn’t look back because I stood, utterly frozen, at the top of the stairs.

  Teri was right, Mal had a damn fine ass and I’d just seen every inch of it.

  I cursed under my breath as I all but ran downstairs. I knew, just knew, that I would never get the image of a mostly naked Mal out of my brain. It was irrevocably burned into my retinas and my memory.

  I was also certain that the last few moments would make it impossible for me to even look at Mal. Every time I saw him from now on, all I would see was the sculpted muscles of his upper torso, tight abdomen, and firm ass.

  Other than in the movies or magazines, I’d never seen a man who looked like that. I’d always thought they were like unicorns, mythical beasts that only existed in the fevered imaginations of romance authors and horny women.

  Even then, the ripped bodies of male movie stars and cover models hadn’t affected me half as much as seeing Mal’s body.

  Lost in a daze of my tangled thoughts and slowly fading lust, I wandered through the living room into the kitchen, moving straight to the full coffee pot. Teri appeared nearby, watching me speculatively.

  “You okay, Zoe?” she asked. “You look a little…hot.”

  Her sly words brought me back to reality with a thud and I shot her a hard glare before I reached for a mug.

  “You need to stop doing stuff like that, Teri,” I admonished. “Mal and any other men in this house are entitled to their privacy, just like I am.”

  She stared at me as if she thought I’d lost my mind. “You should be thanking me.”

  I exhaled heavily. There was no way I would be able to convince Teri that what she had done was inappropriate. As far as she was concerned, no one got hurt, so it was all good. I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows. It felt like an ice pick had been driven into my skull. It was probably my blood pressure spiking to dangerous levels.

  “Everything okay?” Mal asked as he sauntered into the kitchen.

  “Oh, yeah,” I answered. “I’m just waiting on my impending stroke. Don’t worry about me.”

  Mal’s fingers circled my wrist, pulling my hand away from my face. “Don’t be so upset,” he stated. “I’m not.”

  I stared up at his smiling face. “I’m more concerned about the next time,” I replied. “What happens when every towel in the house disappears? Or your clothes?”

  “Oh, hey! Great idea,” Teri cried.

  I turned to stare at her. “If you don’t want me to put this place on the market, you won’t even consider it.”

  “Well, Jesus, there’s no need to go that far,” she grumbled.

  I saw Mal’s shoulders shaking and glanced at him. “You’re going to encourage her,” I stated flatly. “Then it won’t be so funny.”

  “Well, considering I thought you might not find me as attractive as I find you, I’m glad Teri did it.”

  I frowned at him. “Huh?”

  Mal released my wrist and tugged lightly on the wet ends of my hair. “You’re not exactly easy to read, Zoe,” he said as he reached for a coffee mug. “Except this morning. I liked the way you were looking at me.”

  “Um. Well. Uh.” I couldn’t decide how to respond to that so I stopped talking. I wasn’t easy to read? Considering how well Mal seemed to read my thoughts, I’d assumed that my face was too expressive.

  Mal poured coffee into both of our cups. I moved forward and added sugar and milk to mine, our arms brushing as we moved.

  “I thought we could get started on research today,” he said before he took a sip of his coffee. “I’ll show you those databases so you can work on your project for Teri and I’ll spend some time talking to friends of mine that may be able to help us.”

  Apparently our discussion about what happened in the upstairs hallway was over. I let it go because I really didn’t want to continue the conversation anyway.

  “That sounds good to me,” I responded. “I’m getting sick of the archive room in the library.”

  Mal smiled. “It’s not very comfortable, is it?”

  Thinking of the windowless basement room, I shook my head. Though the archive room was large, the ceiling was low and the musty odor of dust and old newspaper seemed to permeate every nook and cranny. It definitely wasn’t cozy that was for sure.

  “I’ll make breakfast,” I offered. “Then we can get to work.”

  After a quick meal of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit, Mal showed me the research databases he used and gave me his passwords.

  “This way you can access them even when we’re not together.”

  With each of us engrossed in our own tasks, we spent a quiet morning at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and tapping away at our laptops. Teri flitted in and out to “check on my progress”, but disappeared around ten. I figured she was watching Preston in his backyard. As long as the temperature remained above seventy, he tended to exercise outside and was usually bare-chested. As a result, Teri spent many mornings glued to the window in the upstairs guest room, watching him and calling out encouragement that he couldn’t hear.

  Mal and I threw together sandwiches for lunch, discussing our findings, or rather lack of them, before resuming our research. I was nearly ready to give up for the day when I stumbled across a small article dated six months prior to Teri’s death.

  Some
thing about the first paragraph made the back of my neck prickle. As I read, I wasn’t sure how this particular piece related to Teri, but my instincts were screaming that I needed to sit up and pay attention.

  I continued reading. The article was about the murder of a Fort Worth woman. Though the crime appeared to be a suicide, police found evidence that suggested it was staged.

  As I read further, my heart began to pound. The brief, and likely incomplete, description of the crime scene sounded familiar, down to the information that the woman had been hung with the belt from her bathrobe. There were no suspects, but the police were investigating.

  I wondered how the murderer managed it. He had to have been incredibly strong because it was likely that this woman and Teri were dead weight when he hoisted their bodies up to hang, slowly asphyxiating them.

  The thought made my stomach twist sickeningly. I didn’t want to imagine the horrors these women must have faced.

  I read the article twice and realized that this could be another avenue in my search for Teri’s murderer. Though there was no hard evidence that the man who murdered the Fort Worth woman was the same man who killed Teri, I had a hunch that they were connected. There were too many similarities for it to be a coincidence. I could search suspected suicides or staged suicides in the DFW area.

  I paused then. The murderer likely worked in a larger area than just the Metroplex. I would expand my search to include Texas and neighboring states like Oklahoma, Louisiana, and Arkansas.

  For the first time since I promised Teri I would do everything in my power to find her killer, I felt as though I was finally on the right track.

  Chapter

  After nearly thirty-six hours of research, broken up by yet another horrible night’s sleep, Mal looked up from his laptop in the living room and said, “Okay, it’s time to take a break.”

  I glanced up at him with bleary eyes. “Huh?”

  He smirked and closed his laptop with a snap. “We’ve been at this for two days and I’m pretty sure neither of us has enjoyed a decent night’s sleep in that time. We need to take a break or we’re going to crash and burn.”

  “What do you suggest?” I asked, blinking rapidly to moisten my dry eyes.

  “Let’s order pizza and watch a movie or something,” he replied. “We’ll drink some beer and relax for a couple hours.”

  Though both of us were frustrated at the lack of answers to our respective questions, I agreed that we needed to chill out for a little while.

  “Pepperoni and Italian sausage okay?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah. And get some boneless wings and cheesesticks.”

  I grabbed my cell phone and quickly found the number for the local pizza joint in my favorites list.

  “You have them on speed dial?” Mal asked with obvious surprise.

  I lifted my brows at him. “Uh, yeah. There’s only one pizza place in town and I order from them often enough.”

  He laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his laptop and set it on the table beside the couch. He headed into the kitchen, hopefully to get us each a drink, and I called the restaurant.

  I was done by the time he returned, holding a bottle of beer and another of hard cider just as I’d hoped.

  I took the bottle he held out to me. “Thanks.” I sipped the cider and stated, “I ordered brownies too.”

  “Sounds good,” he replied, flopping down on the couch next to me once again. “God, how can I be so tired from sitting on my ass all day?”

  I grinned at his question. “Don’t ask me. I’ve never figured out the answer to that question.”

  Mal rubbed the back of his neck and took another swig of beer. “I need to go for a run.”

  “We can go together in the morning,” I offered. I was feeling a little restless myself and a nice, long run would likely help me sleep better at night.

  “It’s a date,” he answered.

  We spent the next thirty minutes picking out a movie to watch on Netflix, laughing and arguing good-naturedly. When the doorbell rang, Mal beat me to the front door and blocked the opening with his body.

  “Mal, I need to pay for the pizza,” I protested.

  He ignored me, reaching for his wallet.

  “Mal.”

  Jonas, a recent high school graduate, watched our byplay with fascination. I knew he would likely tell Maggie, the owner of the restaurant, all about the guy that answered my door and insisted on paying for pizza. Maggie Brentwood was a busybody and a horrible gossip. By tomorrow, it would be all over town that I had a man staying with me.

  Stepping back, I let Mal pay for the pizza, making a mental note to call my mother in the morning and let her know that he was staying with me for a little while. I hadn’t talked to her much since my birthday, too distracted by my research into Teri’s death. Still, I knew she would be pissed if she heard that little bit of information second hand from the gossip grapevine in Kenna rather than from me.

  “What’s wrong?” Mal asked as he closed the door and threw the deadbolt.

  “Why do you think something is wrong?” I asked him.

  “Because you just sighed. You usually sound like that when you have to do something you don’t want to.”

  “I do not!” I argued.

  He grinned at me. “Yes, you do.” He brushed by me, his arms full of boxes, and carried everything to the coffee table.

  “I don’t,” I replied adamantly.

  “Whatever you say.” His voice was even and nonchalant and I knew he was humoring me.

  “Okay, give me a specific example. When do I supposedly do this?”

  “Let’s see. When Stony and Blaine want to get a specific shot of you for the show. Or when they try to weasel you into picking up breakfast for them. Or when you’re dealing with a particularly stubborn ghost,” he listed. Mal grinned at me as he grabbed a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth.

  “Damn.” He was right. I did sigh when I had to do something I didn’t want to.

  “So what caused the sigh this time?” he asked.

  “The sigh?”

  He shook his head. “It’s what Blaine and Stony call it. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  I caught myself about to exhale heavily again at his words and glared at him when he burst into laughter. “Fine, fine. I was just thinking that Jonas is going to tell Maggie that you’re here and you insisted on paying for the food, which means I’m going to have to call my mom first thing in the morning and tell her you’re staying with me.”

  The laughter faded from Mal’s expression. “I don’t understand. What does the pizza delivery guy and this woman Maggie have to do with your mom or me? And who is Maggie?”

  I realized I hadn’t explained myself well. “Maggie owns the pizza joint,” I clarified. “She’s also a terrible gossip. Everyone knows that the best place to find out all the dirty secrets in town is at Maggie’s place. Maggie also happens to be good friends with my mother, which means she’ll be sure to mention that I have a man staying with me.”

  “I see,” Mal responded.

  He really didn’t. From what I’d seen, Mal had a good relationship with his parents and spoke to them a couple of times per week. Though things with my mother were better than they had been in a long time, if she thought I was keeping something from her, she would be beyond angry. Not just annoyed like a normal parent, but full-on-silent-treatment-for-weeks angry.

  While I had avoided telling her about Mal’s visit, it wasn’t because I was hiding him. I just didn’t know how to explain the reason behind his arrival. I knew I couldn’t tell her about what happened in my bedroom two nights ago. She and my dad would lose their minds.

  “I don’t know what to tell her when she asks why you’re here,” I admitted. Mal grabbed a piece of pizza and I frowned at him. “You need a plate for that.”

  Before he could reply, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed plates and paper towels, carrying everything to the couch. Mal smiled a
t me as he put his pizza on the plate.

  “Why not tell her the truth?” Mal asked.

  I grunted and grabbed a piece of pizza and a cheesestick for myself. “Have you met my mother? Or my father for that matter? They would freak out if I told them what happened. Plus, I’m not sure how they could help. All it would do is make them worry like crazy.”

  He chuckled. “Good point. Maybe you could tell them I want your help researching locations for our next few episodes.”

  I munched on the cheesestick as I mulled over his suggestion. “That should work,” I replied.

  We ate pizza and watched the movie, sitting close enough on the couch that our hips and arms brushed when we moved. Between the hard cider and Mal’s proximity, I felt flushed and warm by the time the end credits rolled.

  I’d been suppressing the memory of my encounter with a nearly naked Mal for two days now, but it was difficult. Now that I was relaxed from good food and drink, my guard was down. Sitting so close to him, I could smell the soap he used and the warmer undertone of his skin. The scent was addictive and I was tempted to shove my face against his neck and inhale just so I could get a larger hit.

  “Let’s watch something else,” Mal requested. “Maybe Stranger Things. That looks interesting.”

  It looked a little creepy too, but I didn’t disagree because Mal wrapped an arm around me and pulled my body against his side. My head rested against his shoulder and I could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt.

  During the opening scene, I flinched and buried my face against his chest.

  “We can watch something else,” Mal said. His voice was low and it was nearly a rumble against my ear.

  “No, no. I’m okay,” I insisted. “Just a little on edge.”

  I could handle the goriest horror movie if it meant I didn’t have to leave my cozy spot cuddled up against him. Still, I was grateful when the first episode progressed to less frightening scenes.

  After it was over, I lifted my head and turned to look at him. “Do you want to watch the next episode?” I asked.