Discarded Promises Read online

“You were very lucky,” Owen Day said. His hand trembled as he picked up his tea. He set it back down.

  He was so distressed, Quilla felt compelled to respond. She smiled at him. “I’m okay. I’m a fighter.”

  When Hattie left, Owen said to Jake, “I’d like a few minutes alone with my daughter.”

  When Jake left, Owen sat on the couch beside Quilla. “I know the things I did to you and your mother were terrible,” he began.

  She wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. But he was so obviously distraught, she didn’t have the heart to be mean. “You mean to Mama.”

  “I never physically touched you, but the mental damage is just as lethal. I’m not giving you excuses. And I take one day at a time. I can’t make up for those things and I won’t even try. But I have always loved you. Always will. I couldn—” he stopped and pulled himself together. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.” He put a hand around her shoulders and held her close.

  Quilla didn’t know what to say or what to do. The adrenaline was still running through her system from her close call. But maybe she didn’t have to do anything. Perhaps she didn’t have to control this.

  They were alone again. Denton held Quilla tightly in his arms.

  “How is that arm?” he asked.

  “Now that I’ve taken a painkiller, it’s better.”

  They were lying on the bed and she was stretched on top of him.

  “You need a keeper twenty-four/seven.”

  “Are you applying for the job?”

  He groaned. “Every time I think about . . .”

  Quilla leaned up, slid up his body, and kissed him. “You talk too much,” she said.

  He’d meant to give her a lecture. But... “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He gazed into her eyes for long seconds. Then he gently positioned her on the bed, leaned over her, slipped his hand under her T-shirt, and caressed her breasts. Then he brushed the T-shirt up to reveal her gorgeous brown skin.

  His breath left his lungs in a shudder. “You drive me crazy,” he said before he planted a kiss on her stomach. “I’m going out of my mind right now.”

  “So am I. You work too much. And we haven’t spent enough time together lately,” she complained. “I missed you.”

  He gazed down into her eyes. “Well, I’ve got something to make up for all that.”

  He peeled the clothing off her and kissed each area revealed. But he wasn’t finished. He massaged every inch of her body. And then he strung kisses all over her to her pleasurable moans.

  “My turn,” she said.

  Quilla had never stroked a man’s body the way she was about to do to Denton. But she felt so boneless, so magnificent, that she wanted him to feel the pleasure he’d given her.

  He lay flat on his back and she started with little kisses on his face and stroked and kissed his body until he yanked her into his arms.

  “I can’t take any more,” he said in a deep voice that had lost all control. And then she was beneath him. She slowly covered him with a condom, stroking the hard length before he slid into her and their loving was hot and intense. They moved together until the hot tide of passion raged through both of them. Afterward they lay wound in each other’s arms, wondering what on earth had rocked their worlds.

  Chapter 16

  Every time Denton closed his eyes that night he dreamed of his brother. One moment he’d see Daniel’s face and the next it was suddenly replaced with Quilla’s. He woke up in a cold sweat.

  But she was sleeping peacefully in his arms, her warm body pulsating with life. He turned his head to look at her. Her face was pressed against his chest. Gently, he ran the back of his hand down her cheek, and she caught a hiccough breath. He moved his hand away so she wouldn’t awaken.

  Streetlights gleamed over the bed, touching the white comforter with yellowish streaks. Five-thirty flashed from the illuminated dial on the digital clock across the room. It was too early to get up. And if he shifted, he would awaken Quilla.

  There was another break in her breathing as she shifted against him. In a moment, she settled down, and with a light touch he stroked her back.

  He’d fallen in love with Quilla Day.

  She was so unexpected. But from the moment she came strolling down the hall demanding information about Sadie, he knew his life was about to change. He’d thought he’d run from love kicking and screaming. The surprise was, he didn’t want to run. He wanted to hold her close to him for the rest of his life. He wanted to grow old with her.

  But she had a killer on her trail. And her stubbornness made it difficult to keep her safe. Because she had to control everything. And she didn’t trust men. Even he had gleaned that much from their short time together.

  Her father had done a number on her. And now the poor guy ran around like a puppy trying to win back her favor. Quilla wasn’t a forgiving woman. He knew her father had a lot to atone for, but he wondered if one day he’d do something she’d find unforgivable.

  Denton slid his arm from under Quilla, rolled out of bed, and padded silently across the carpet to the bathroom. Next to his shaving gear were Quilla’s face creams and perfumes. She’d slid his stuff over to make more room for hers. But he didn’t mind. He liked the sweet smell of the bathroom after she left. He turned the hot water on and stepped out of his briefs. When the temperature was right he got in and let the water ease the tension out him.

  After his shower, Denton made a pot of coffee and read the morning paper. When he read the small article in the Police Beat about Quilla’s attack, fury almost choked him. His little Quilla, a minute big, and some big ox was yanking her out of the door to kill her . . . Denton took several deep breaths to cool his temper and he flipped through the paper to the sports section.

  He was almost through and had started on his second cup of coffee when Quilla strolled into the kitchen looking warm, mussed, and disgruntled.

  He smiled. She wasn’t an early-morning person like him, but she tried to get up early because he did. Some adjustments were in order, he thought and not just her, either.

  “Go back to bed, honey.”

  She shook her head and poured herself a cup of coffee, joining him at the table. “Want me to fix breakfast? I’m feeling better now.”

  “I bet every muscle in your body hurts.”

  She winced.

  “I’ll run water in the tub for you. The soak will ease the soreness in your muscles.” He’d seen the stairs she’d tumbled down and they seemed to go on forever.

  While she was soaking, the phone rang.

  Denton appeared at the door. “It’s Loretta. She wants to visit you tomorrow.”

  “Tell her I’ll be here.” An hour later when she got out of the tub and dried herself off, Denton poured two glasses of juice and set one in front of Quilla.

  “You don’t have to wait on me,” Quilla said. “I can do more things now. I’m feeling much better. Just let me get some clothes on.”

  “Have you ever trusted anyone? Will you trust any man?” Denton asked.

  The aches had eased, but she was bruised in several places. She’d wrapped a towel around herself, but the bruises were enough to send Denton into lecturing mode.

  “What brought this on?” She had no idea how he came to that conclusion, but she already knew he wasn’t making sense.

  He shrugged.

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you.” Quilla had never seen this side of him before and it surprised her. He was always calm and logical. Always took things in stride.

  “If you trusted me, you would have been in this apartment last night and not running down the hall straight into a killer’s arms. I’m trying to do everything I can to keep you alive and you won’t cooperate. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “I stayed in the building. I had no idea who the killer was, that he was associated with that woman,” she murmured. “But now that I know how easy it is for someone to
get in here, I’ll stay in the apartment.” She glanced up from her juice. “Aren’t you late for something?”

  “You don’t trust any man.”

  “That’s . . .”

  “Don’t bother to deny it.”

  He was getting too carried away with male outrage. “I’m female, not stupid.”

  “That was an intelligent thing you did last night?”

  “Okay. So I made a mistake. I’m accustomed to taking care of myself and making my own decisions whether they’re right or wrong. Maybe I was wrong yesterday, but how could I have known the man had access to the building? That’s another point. Who let him in, anyway?”

  “My point exactly. We don’t know if he’s the only one involved.”

  “I won’t go anywhere without Irving. Are you satisfied?”

  Seconds ticked by as he regarded her with distrust. Finally she’d taken the wind out of his sails. “Sometimes,” he said in a calmer voice, “things happen that make it sensible to let someone else take over.”

  “I realize that.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “You wouldn’t recognize it because you like to control. You want to issue orders, go your merry way with the assurance they’ll be followed, not taking into consideration that the person you’re leaving behind has a brain and can actually think.”

  Denton regarded her. “You aren’t making a bit of sense.”

  “I’ve been working on this murder from my armchair. I’ve been searching so hard in Sadie’s diary for clues.”

  “What?!”

  “And I think I found something.”

  Denton looked as though he was going to blow a gasket. “Diary? You’ve had the diary all this time?”

  “It’s sort of in code and it’s taken me awhile to go through it. You’ve been so busy I was sure you didn’t have time.”

  Quilla didn’t want to get into a deep discussion with nothing but a towel wrapped around her. She needed the armor of clothes.

  Denton looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, as if he could strangle her.

  “Look, this is going nowhere. Why don’t we both take a break while I dress. Then we’ll discuss it when I come back.”

  Denton had left the house before he choked Quilla with his bare hands. And he’d forgotten the damn diary. She was a liability. Why the heck was he so taken with her, anyway? He couldn’t think of one good reason he’d fallen for her like a ton of bricks.

  She didn’t trust men. She thought they were the spawn of Satan. So why should he give a damn? Except she’d wiggled her way under his skin and he couldn’t seem to get rid of her no matter how hard he tried.

  Riddled with frustration, Denton drove the rush-hour traffic to his office at Smitherton. The last place he wanted to be was in the office surrounded by George, Wendy, and Tom, no less. Who needed to deal with a domestic situation in addition to all his other concerns? But this was a family business and there was no way around it.

  He’d given Irving instructions not to let Quilla out of his sight, if he had to tie her to the chair to keep her in that damn apartment. Denton shook his head. She’d probably lay a skillet to his skull if he did.

  Cantankerous woman.

  At least Irving was with her and he’d spoken to the neighbors about the couple parading as Jehovah’s Witnesses. Everyone thought they were so kind and helpful. The older neighbors looked forward to the woman’s visits. Usually she was the only person they would see during the course of a day. She took the time to talk to them. More than the religious material, they craved the human contact.

  The police had tracked down the woman. She had been working with people for years, but she told them Lester had joined their group a few months ago and began to court her soon after.

  He’d seemed concerned about her visiting homes alone, even convinced her it would be safer if he came along with her on her visits to lend protection. She’d thought it was a caring and Christian thing to do. Because, although she did good works, all the people she encountered weren’t necessarily of the same mind. Danger lurked everywhere. Little did she know she had been walking with danger.

  She showed them the diamond he’d given her as a friendship ring. Of course the diamond was more than likely one of the pieces he’d stolen.

  Even though the police had finally identified Lester as the murderer, he still had the gun on him, and wisely, he’d failed to return home or visit his new girlfriend. Denton shook his head. He’d seen the woman. She was easy pickings for a shyster like Lester. He’d seen her coming.

  Denton made it to work and marched into the building to more drama.

  Denton focused on the drama going on in front of him and stifled a sigh.

  “I want you to fire him now, Daddy!” Wendy yelled at her father, pointing an imperious finger at Tom.

  “Honey, we’re at a precarious point in the business. We have to think of the employees and their families. It’s just not feasi—”

  “For once, can’t you put family before business? Your whole life has centered around business. Besides, Tom isn’t the only one who can run it. Don’t you understand, Dad? He cheated on me. He took our son to that—”

  “She’s dead, honey. She’s not a threat now,” George said, as if that would matter.

  Denton expected Wendy to toss something at her father. But the silence that suddenly greeted them was charged. Finally she turned and walked to the door, turning to face the group one last time.

  “You’ve betrayed your family, Daddy, and I’m not a part of it any longer. You’ve chosen sides.”

  George looked imploringly at his daughter, his only child. “Honey, you got the job you always wanted. You’re working here. Let that be enough for now.”

  “The job I should have had years ago. It should never have gone to Tom. Randall and I are leaving tonight. This place isn’t big enough for Tom and me.”

  “But it’s Christmas. And your mother will be disappointed,” George tried.

  Tom spoke for the first time, gaining confidence with what he perceived as George’s support. “I know I made a mistake, Wendy. Just give me another chance.”

  Wendy flipped him the bird.

  Tom’s face turned a putrid red. “I’m not letting you take my son away from me.”

  “Think again. I’m taking him and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me. Just try.”

  “You better quit while you’re ahead,” George said. There was anger beneath George’s façade that he’d carefully hidden before. “You want your wife to take you to court and disclose the fact that you took your minor son to a whore? Get to work. I don’t pay you to waste company time.”

  Wendy flew out the office with Tom sputtering behind her.

  “You can’t do that! I’ve got rights. He’s my son, too.”

  When Tom stormed out, George turned to Denton. “Follow me,” he said, and the men headed for the parking lot. Employees were watching them surreptitiously as they left. Everyone must have heard the conversation. Wendy hadn’t tried to lower her voice.

  “Find what you need and fast. I don’t ever want my daughter to think I betrayed her, that I accept that piece of scum over her for any reason.” He glanced at Denton, his face a glowing mask of rage, and pointed an imperious finger. “My daughter means the world to me. And you keep her from leaving, or the deal’s off.” Then George settled himself angrily behind the wheel of his big car and left skid marks when he pulled away.

  Isn’t life a bitch, Denton thought. A perfect start to an already hellish day.

  Quilla had dressed and settled down to Sadie’s diary but didn’t derive the pleasure from it she usually did. Denton had put a damper on her spirits. She was not as untrusting as he described her, and she was going to tell him so when she saw him again.

  Guilt nagged her. She wasn’t being totally truthful. She didn’t quite trust men, but maybe she could change.

  She read the diary until one passage stopped her.

  Lore
tta was Sadie’s daughter.

  Surprised, Quilla put the book on her lap. Her friends thought Sadie had been in her mid-thirties, but she was actually forty. She wore her age extremely well.

  Sadie wrote that when she was almost fifteen, she had been raped by her mother’s boyfriend. Quilla guessed this was the reason she and her mother moved away. Her mother pretended the baby was hers, and a year after Loretta was born, her mother remarried.

  At first Quilla considered it wasn’t her place to tell Loretta, but she would eventually get the diary. So eventually Loretta would discover who her natural mother was. Wouldn’t it be better to learn from a friend than to discover that news on her own?

  As Denton drove toward Alexandria to Wendy’s place, he picked up the phone.

  “Jake, watch Tom’s people closely. He knows his days are numbered. He has to move the rest of his shipment before he gets fired, and that’s going to happen soon.”

  On his way he thought of Quilla. This agent business was hell on a relationship. He parallel parked behind Wendy’s car, marched up to her door, and rang the bell.

  “Who sent you after me?” she asked when she opened it. “Tom?”

  “Your father.”

  “Like he cares.” She turned and headed back inside.

  Denton followed her across the wide-plank wooden floors. The house was at least two hundred years old. He passed through a foyer decorated with an antique writing desk with a Chinese vase on top. A family photo had been removed, replaced with Randall’s senior picture in his cap and gown.

  How did he always get entangled in family squabbles? It wasn’t the most comfortable position. He had to fix squabbles at work, then deal with personal ones at home.

  “He cares,” Denton said as he followed her to the kitchen.

  “It’s ‘protect the good old boys’ again.”

  “It’s protect your inheritance. He gets offers for buyouts all the time. He’s saving Smitherton for you and Randall. He knows how much the company means to you.”

  “Then explain why Tom is at the head and not me?” she asked, using jerky motions to start the coffee.