“And I really don’t think Silas has it in him to kill. And it all comes back to what do they have to do with Frank Richards?”
“Your father’s disappearance may have nothing to do with Frank Richards. It could all be one big coincidence.” Kat turned the laptop around and closed the lid.
Nick growled. “There’s no such thing as coincidence,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“What did you say?” Mary’s blue gaze held his.
“We need to run a check on the man riding snowmobiles with Silas today.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t press for the truth. “Fine. Want to meet at midnight to go to my father’s house?”
“Midnight it is.” Nick opened the door and waved her toward it. He’d had enough temptation in the room for now. “If you plan to shower, I suggest you do it. I’m next.”
“Ah, here’s my room key.” Kat stepped out in the hallway to greet Nancy Petri, the owner, operator and number one housecleaner of the B and B.
Mary ducked back into her room and closed the door, mulling over what Kat and Nick had said about Ed and Silas. If these were the only two suspects they could come up with, they were in trouble. Mary just couldn’t see either one as threatening to her father. Santa had dealt firmly and fairly with everyone in this town for years.
Mary wasn’t familiar with the strong-arm tactics of Las Vegas bookmakers. Had Silas gotten himself into a pinch over his gambling? Everyone knew he made frequent trips south. Mary hadn’t known where, until today. Was a gambling debt enough to drive a man over the edge? Would her father have run from Silas, a man he’d known for years?
Mary grabbed a towel, her shampoo and clean underwear and dashed down the hall for her shower, determined not to run into Nick until the appointed hour of midnight.
She stood under the hot spray, letting the water jet over her skin, beating away the stress of the day. The heat and steam eased the bruising from the tumble down the hillside and drained away the tension and what was left of her energy, leaving her tired and sleepy. She wondered how she’d ever wake up enough to perform the next mission.
All her sleepiness disappeared the moment she stepped out of the bathroom.
Nick leaned against the hallway wall in only his jeans, having tossed his shirt again. A towel draped over his shoulder and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Did you leave me any hot water?”
It wasn’t so much the words as the way they rolled off Nick’s lips so effortlessly and with such a deep, resonant tone that made Mary’s bones turn to soup. “Uh, yeah.” She stood transfixed and tongue-tied, unable to drag her gaze from the mat of hair sprinkled across his chest. What would it feel like to run her fingers through the springy curls?
Mary licked her bottom lip which had gone suddenly dry.
Nick’s eyebrows rose into the dark hair drooping over his forehead. “Mary?”
“What?” She shifted her gaze from his chest back up to his face and fell into twinkling dark eyes.
The smile at the corners of his lips spread across his face. He nodded to the door behind her. “The shower?”
Her face flamed and she scooted out of the bathroom door, hurrying down the hallway as fast as she could go without running.
A low chuckle followed her, echoing off the walls.
Mary slammed her door behind her. “Jerk.” She pressed a hand to her heated cheeks, ignoring the way her breasts felt ultrasensitive against the abrasion of the soft terry cloth. She yanked the bathrobe off and strode across the room in her panties, searching for dark, concealing clothes, her heart hammering in her chest and not from sprinting down the hall.
The man infuriated her.
She paused with her hand on a black turtleneck sweater.
“Why?” she wondered aloud. Why did he infuriate her? All he’d done was stand in front of her without a shirt.
It was the smile. That freakin’ sexy smile of his had completely thrown her for a loop.
Mary smacked her hand against her forehead. “Get over it. The man isn’t going to be around once we find Dad.” Even if he was, he’d never tell her what she wanted to know about him. She couldn’t trust Nick any more than she could trust her ex-boyfriend, Bradley.
She tugged the sweater over her head and slipped into a pair of black, lined leggings and thick socks. Completely covered, her body still tingled with awareness for Nick.
Damn. Why did she do this to herself? Why did she let her emotions get the better of her when she knew nothing would come of it? Was that it? Was she always going after the unavailable men to save her from ever committing to one?
She lifted the photo frame on her nightstand. It was the one picture she’d carried with her everywhere. The last family photo of her mother, father and herself together.
