A Willing Murder Read online

  “Don’t apologize. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through. Anyway, that year I had a full-time girlfriend, Delia Monroe. Head cheerleader, prom queen, that sort of thing. Between school, sports and Delia, I can assure you that I had no time for anyone else. Besides, Delia was a bit jealous.” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Fiery temper, huh?”

  “The worst. She was my first girlfriend and I had no sisters, so I thought that’s how all girls were. She and I vowed to be together forever.”

  “What happened?”

  “College. Life experience. When I got away from Lachlan, I met girls who were interested in something besides how they looked.” He leaned forward a bit. “And I met young women who didn’t demand to know where I was and who I’d spoken to every minute of the day.” He leaned back. “Sorry. It still gets me. All that high-school possessiveness.”

  “Is she the reason you’re not married?”

  “Actually, I was married. But it only lasted three years. I came home early one day and she and a coworker were... Well, let’s just say that I never used that shower again. Anyway, it’s an old, boring story. The divorce was quite civilized. I’m just glad there were no children. Why are we talking about me? I want to know everything about you.”

  Kate started to ask more questions but stopped herself. Since the moment a skeleton had seemed to reach out and grab her hair, all she’d thought about was misery. The murder of two women, Evan’s passing, accusations about Jack, his angry father, et cetera.

  She picked up her wineglass, drained it, then held it up for more. “I would really like to talk about something other than death.”

  Alastair filled her glass, then raised his for a toast. “What about not even mentioning the Wyatts?”

  “Cal, Roy, Evan, even Jack,” she murmured. “I’d very much like to have a Wyatt-free evening.”

  Alastair held his glass back without touching. “What would you most like to talk about?”

  “Houses!” she said. “I have a career, one that I’d like to succeed in. Someday I want to see Medlar Realty on a door.”

  “Then here’s to that,” he said. “Medlar Realty.” They clicked glasses and drank deeply.

  “Actually...” Alastair said as he leaned toward her.

  “Uh-oh. You look serious.”

  He didn’t smile. “I am serious. I didn’t answer your texts this week because I was in Atlanta.”

  “Makes sense. I’ve heard that up north they don’t have the internet. Very backward people are those Yankees.”

  He laughed. “My father used to say ‘If they can grow apple trees, then they’re Northerners.’”

  “I like that.” Her scallops were delicious. “So you couldn’t answer my texts because Atlanta isn’t a technically advanced city. Right?”

  “No. It was me. I was putting in sixteen-hour days and collapsing at night. Too tired to answer any form of communication. My mother is so angry at me that I have to take her to lunch on Sunday. Somewhere very expensive.”

  “So why all the work?”

  “I completed what I needed to move my business here. Well, not here in Lachlan, but into a high-rise downtown on Broward.”

  “Ooooh. Big city. Why not Miami?”

  Alastair held his fingers up in a cross. “Don’t hex me with that name. Fort Lauderdale and Miami don’t mix.”

  “I didn’t know. I’ve been learning that Fort Lauderdale and Lachlan are separate.”

  “True. We just share utilities, taxes, public transportation and schools with them.”

  Kate finished her second glass of wine, while Alastair had barely touched his. “And we can’t forget the Broward County Sheriff’s Department that rules us both.”

  “With its state-of-the-art forensics department.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yes. Fort Lauderdale Police Department uses it.”

  “Wish they’d use Sheriff Flynn,” she said under her breath.

  “I wondered how you were getting along with him. Too bad you aren’t a Kirkwood.” He grinned. “Or a Stewart. Hey! Let’s elope tonight and tomorrow you’ll be a Stewart. That’s one up from a Kirkwood. Ol’ Sheriff Flynn will be kissing your rings.”

  Kate had already drunk enough wine that it seemed like a hilarious proposition and she laughed hard. “You’re my third marriage proposal.”

  He picked up a table knife. “If one of them was from Jack Wyatt, I’ll stab myself in the heart now.”

  “Jack? Not a chance. He’s more like my brother than a...than a...”

  Alastair held the wine bottle over her glass. “Say he’s not like me and I’ll buy a hundred-dollar bottle of their finest.”

  “He’s not at all like you,” she said.

  Alastair signaled the waiter and ordered a second bottle. “Now, seriously, Kate, my lovely, I need a house here in Lachlan. Can you find me one?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely. What are you looking for? Acreage? Old house? New? Something to remodel? Water view? In town so you can walk to the shops?”

  He was grinning at her. “I like this Kate. Do you wear suits and high heels? Carry a briefcase?”

  The way he said the words was so sexy that she felt herself sliding down in the chair. “I’m prim on the outside but I love lacy underwear.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “From that catalog?”

  “The one teenage boys like so much?”

  “And mature adults. How about something chocolate for dessert?”

  “Too many calories.”

  “But also a reward for all the work you’ve been doing. Besides, we need time to talk about the house you’re going to find for me. I’ve only lived in Granddad’s house and in glass-walled apartments. I need something in between.” He ordered the dessert. “I think it’s time I settled down. What about you? Any plans for the future in the way of a family?”

  “Two kids,” she said. “Maybe another one later when the others become obnoxious teenagers. I like babies.”

  “Sounds like we agree on that. What kind of house do you like?”

  “Regional,” she said. “I like houses that look like where they’ve been planted.”

  “Like apple trees in Maine,” he said.

  “And corn in Iowa.”

  “And palm trees here.”

  “Spanish,” she said. “I love Sara’s house, the one you grew up in.”

  “Me, too, but half that size. We definitely don’t need a room for Jack Wyatt to freeload in.”

  “We?” She was on her second glass from the expensive wine. It was by far the best she’d ever tasted. The waiter brought a large piece of chocolate cake and two spoons for it. Spoons were needed because hot chocolate fudge was oozing out of the center. “I am now going to sin.” She picked up a spoon and tasted. Heaven! “You are an evil man, Alastair Stewart.”

  “Truthfully, Kate, you could stand to add a few pounds.”

  She groaned. “Those are ‘get her into bed’ words.”

  “Really? Do they work?”

  “Always.” As Kate put a bite of the deep, dark chocolate in her mouth, she closed her eyes. “Those words have never failed.”

  When she opened her eyes, he was smiling at her. “I would love to take advantage of your inebriated state, but I am officially declaring that I’m in this for the long term. How about if I pick you up tomorrow and we spend a Sunday afternoon looking at houses for sale in little Lachlan?”

  “Great idea.” Kate’s mouth was full. “No. Wait. I can’t. Jack and Sara and I are going on an adventure.”

  “What does that mean? Should I be jealous?”

  “No. It’s not a real adventure. The place just sounds like one. It’s somewhere in Fort Lauderdale but far from Lachlan. I really need to study a map.”

  “Aventura?”

&nb