Page 176 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

He drew in a deep breath, and his hand dropped away. “You’re right.” His voice seemed almost normal.

Becca wondered if she’d imagined the expression in his eyes. Maybe she was reading what she wanted to see. Most men were put off by her height. She’d lugged more boxes and suitcases by herself than she wanted to. A part of her yearned to be treated like a dainty flower of a woman.

Biting her lip hard enough to hurt, she pulled her hand free and went toward the stairs. “Thanks for saving me,” she said.

“Any time,” he said quietly.

Becca nearly ran down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, she wrestled with the door. “It won’t open.” She banged her hand against it in frustration.

She heard Max’s steps behind her, then his breath whispered across her cheek. “Let me.”

She pressed her back against the wall so he could get to the latch.

“It doesn’t have a lock on it, but it sticks sometimes.”

He fiddled with it for what seemed like an eternity. His shoulders brushed her arm as he worked on the latch. Panic flared in her chest as she realized he could kill her up here then stash her body. She told herself not to be silly, but she couldn’t get over her suspicion of him.

He was too attractive for her peace of mind, but even more than that, he might be a murderer.

He finally succeeded in getting the latch to open. The door swung open with a loud creak. “There you go,” he said, but he still blocked her escape.

Her mouth was dry as she tried to ease by him. Her chest felt like a seagull was trying to escape. “Th—thanks,” she whispered.

He stood staring down at her, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Why were you really up there?” he asked. “I think there’s more to Becca Lynn than I know. Maybe I should send you packing.”

“I’m just an ordinary girl,” she whispered.

He gave a bark of laughter. “You’d never be ordinary,” he said. His fingers tucked a curl behind her left ear. “For my own safety, I should send you home.” He stepped back. “But I don’t think I’m going to do it.”

Becca didn’t pause to explain. She dashed past him as though the Windigo was on her tail. And for all she knew, that was just what Max was. A mysterious being who sucked the life out of others. Someone had done that to her parents. She just prayed Max wasn’t that someone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Becca tossed and turned all night. She awoke in a tangle of sweaty sheets with a dim sunrise casting shadows in the room. Her grandmother was coming home today. She felt hollow inside at the thought. God would have to work this one out. She couldn’t do anything about it on her own.

She’d asked as many questions as she’d dared over the week she’d been here, but was no closer to discovering her parents’ killer than the day she arrived. Dinner on Friday with Nick had gotten postponed, so she’d found out nothing there.

The aroma of bacon and hash browns drifted up the stairs. Her tummy rumbled. Tossing back the covers, she decided she wouldn’t worry about what the day would bring. Though she was no closer to solving the murder, she was here. Her grandmother wouldn’t send her away. While it might be more dangerous if everyone knew who she was, she could still poke around.

Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton top, she went on sneakered feet down the stairs to the dining room. Max was the only one in the room when she stepped through the doorway. Her gaze collided with his, and she thought she saw a flare of some kind of emotion before he shut it off. Gladness, attraction? She wasn’t sure what it had been.

“You look rested,” he observed. “We have a lot of work ahead of us. Gram is supposed to arrive around one so we’ll try to cram a lot in this morning.”

Mrs. Jeffries came into the room before Becca could do more than nod. Carrying a plate of bacon and bowls of scrambled eggs and hash browns, she didn’t look at either of them.

“Something wrong, Mrs. Jeffries?” Becca asked when she saw the housekeeper’s tight mouth.

She shook her head without looking at them. As soon as she left the room, Max sighed.

“It’s my fault,” he admitted. “I tossed Robert out this morning. I found him going through Gram’s desk.”

She winced. “Any idea what he was after?”

“I’m not sure I want to know. He’s always looking for a way to make a score.”

“What did he say when you told him to leave?”

Max shrugged. “What could he say? I’m in charge with Gram gone. I escorted him off the premises.”