Page 36 of The Murder Club

Belatedly realizing that she was leaving him standing on her porch while she daydreamed about an affair that hadn’t happened yet, Bailey shook her head and hurried to pull open the door.

“Dom,” she murmured, awareness blasting through her as she caught the scent of his warm, male scent.

A slow, devastatingly sexy smile curved his lips. “Am I too early?”

With an effort, Bailey forced her gaze from his mesmerizing eyes to focus on the pink package he was holding in his hands.

“That depends on what’s in the box,” she informed him.

“An assortment of doughnuts from the local diner.”

She stepped back to wave him in. The local diner was famous for their apple pie, but their doughnuts ran a close second.

“Then it’s not too early.”

His smile widened. “Good. I . . .” His words dried on his lips as he turned to squeeze past her. Coming to a halt, he nodded across the street. “Do you recognize that car?”

With a frown, Bailey leaned forward to follow his gaze. She easily spotted the old, rusty vehicle that was parked near the railroad tracks.

She wrinkled her nose. Even from a distance she could see the hubcaps were missing and the back window was covered with duct tape. It made the vehicle easy to identify.

“It looks like Eric Criswell’s car.”

“The Eric from the nursing home? The one who got you involved in the Murder Club?”

“Yes.”

Dom scowled. “His name keeps popping up. Does he live in the neighborhood?”

A chill inched down Bailey’s spine. Dom was right. Eric’s name kept popping up. And now he was parked outside her house. This wasn’t just a coincidence.

“No, he stays with his mother,” she said. “Her home is near the nursing home.”

Dom shoved the box of doughnuts into her hand. “I’m going to have a word with him.”

Bailey dropped the pastries on the table next to the door. “Me too.”

Dom frowned. “Bailey.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “Yes?”

He sighed. “Never mind.”

Muscling the dogs back, Bailey managed to slip outside and close the door. Then, keeping pace next to Dom, she jumped from the porch and headed directly toward the rusty car.

They’d crossed the empty street when there was a loud bang as Eric started the old engine.

“He’s going to take off,” she warned.

Dom jogged forward, planting his hands on the hood of the car. “I’ll block him, you find out what he’s doing here.”

Bailey nodded. “Be careful,” she warned him. “Eric has a habit of panicking if he’s confronted. He might run you over before he can stop himself.”

“Noted,” Dom assured her, his hands remaining on the hood.

Trusting he had enough sense not to get squished, Bailey moved to the driver’s door. She could see Eric clutching the steering wheel as he stared at Dom, no doubt battling back the urge to take off.

Tapping on the window, Bailey waited for it to be rolled down. A moment later, Eric reluctantly turned his head to meet her frown.