Page 34 of The Murder Club

“You are to me.” He lowered his head to brush a light kiss over her lips. “And I hope to convince you to return my interest.”

He felt her stiffen in shock. Damn. Had his risk backfired? Then, thankfully, she melted against him, her hands lifting to grasp his shoulders.

“You are a dangerous man, Dom Lucier,” she whispered against his mouth.

“No, Kaden is dangerous,” he argued, nibbling a path along the line of her jaw. “I’m a simple, uncomplicated man who has no use for games. You’ll always know what I’m thinking and what I’m feeling.”

She arched back, regarding him with a strange expression. “That only makes you more dangerous.”

He claimed one last kiss before reluctantly stepping back. He’d pressed his luck far enough.

“We can take this as slow as you want,” he promised. “I’m a very patient man.”

She reached up to brush back the hair that had come loose from her bun, her hand not quite steady. Dom hid a smile. He would gloat later at the fact that his touch had so obviously shaken her.

“I’m still sorry I made you rush over here for nothing.”

Dom felt a pang of regret as she deliberately diverted the conversation from what had just happened between them, but he didn’t protest. He’d assured her that he would be patient. He was a man of his word.

“It’s not nothing,” he argued, his unease bubbling to the surface. Dorinda’s visit had changed his original hypothesis, but it didn’t erase his concern. If anything, he was more worried than ever. “And I’m glad you did ask me over. The sooner we figure out who’s harassing, you the better.”

“I’m not even sure that it is harassment,” she said, stubbornly attempting to minimize her danger. “I might be overreacting to a couple of text messages.”

“You’re not overacting, but I’ll admit that I’m reconsidering my theory that the same person is responsible for the deaths of Nellie Warren and the woman in Grange,” he conceded, speaking his thoughts out loud. “Your neighbor mentioned Nellie, telling her that she caught her son stealing from her. Gage Warren might not be overly bright, but he had to realize she wasn’t going to be happy with him. And that he was in danger of losing everything.”

Bailey widened her eyes. “Are you suggesting that Gage killed his mother?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

There was a long silence as Bailey processed his theory. Her expression was troubled but not shocked.

“You know, a week ago I would have said it was crazy to think that Nellie could have been murdered by her own son,” she admitted. “Now I don’t know what to think. I mean, Gage has always been a jerk. And everyone in town knows that he would be bankrupt if it wasn’t for his mother’s financial support. But . . . murder?”

“He was very eager to imply you were responsible for her death,” he reminded her.

She nodded. “And the theft of her ring.”

“It would have been easy to have slipped something into her food or drink if he wanted to get rid of her.”

“Plus, he had her cremated as soon as possible.” Her hands clenched into fists. “What was his hurry unless he was afraid someone might question her death?”

“Exactly.” He paced across the cramped living room, his mind churning as he tried to imagine Gage’s panic when he feared that his mother might cut him out of the will. It would have been a murder of desperation, he silently concluded, not a cold-blooded plan. Which meant that he didn’t fit the mystery person stalking Bailey. “But I doubt he had the capability or the interest in becoming a member of an online murder group or send you texts,” he added.

She pursed her lips, her brow furrowed. “No.”

He came to an abrupt halt. “You thought of something.”

She held up her hand, as if trying to lower his expectations. “I agree that Gage wouldn’t have any reason to be involved in Pauline Hartford’s death, but if—and it’s a very big if—Gage did kill his mother to get his hands on his inheritance, it’s remarkably similar to what we suspect happened between Pauline and her grandson.” She waited for his brows to slowly rise in understanding. “Both women might have argued with their heirs and even potentially cut them out of their wills and within days they’re both dead.”

“You’re right.”

“It’s possible whoever sent the texts saw the connection between the two deaths and simply assumed that it would make an interesting investigation,” she said, something that might have been relief shimmering in her eyes. “Nothing sinister about it.”

Dom studied her in silence. He understood her desire to pretend that they’d solved the mystery. Who wanted to accept they’d attracted the sick fascination of a stalker? Or that they were in danger? But as much as he wanted her to feel safe and secure in her own home, he would never forgive himself if she let down her guard and something terrible happened.

“And the pearl necklace?”

“They could be nothing. Lots of packages end up at the wrong address.”

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