Deadly Beginnings by Jaycee Clark Page A

it.
    The waves crashed against the shore, the moon bright off the tops of the clouds rolling in.
    He took a deep breath and thought it all through.
    Maybe he wouldn’t go back to work. That, of course, would make him look guilty.
    Give him a couple of days and he’d have a plan.
    In due time, he’d have Katherine right where she was meant to be. With him.

Chapter 8
     
     
    Kaitlyn watched the scenery blur outside the window as Jock drove them to D.C. She’d told him several times she’d be fine. She’d had second—or tenth—thoughts. She could stay, stay and what? Wait for the next confrontation with Landon?
    Jock had merely kissed her on the forehead and she’d gotten into the car.
    She was stupid. What was she doing? She had nowhere else to go though. She’d talked to the police this morning and no one had known where Landon was. His parents had claimed he was with them last evening.
    Lie. That had been a blatant lie. There had been blood on a pottery shard in her apartment. Had the police taken it?
    No one had been in her apartment by the time the police had arrived while she’d been in the ER, or the hotel.
    No one knew where Landon was this morning.
    Jock had left her for about an hour or so, claiming he had a meeting to attend and he’d be back.
    She didn’t know where he went, didn’t ask.
    Fat to the fire, she thought.
    Completely stupid, but she wouldn’t lie. Jock just felt . . . easy. And, honestly, safe. She could be herself, and he seemed fine with whoever that was. He didn’t get angry at her, or scare her.
    But she could have stayed, she could have and she’d have been fine.
    Probably she would have. More than likely she would have gone to Rainey’s to stay until she figured out what to do.
    Now, though . . .
    Maybe she was just weak. She’d put up with too much from one man, even as she extricated herself to what? Jump into bed, and a car, with another man and head to parts unknown?
    Run away with me, Kaitie.
    “This is so . . . so . . . not planned,” she said quietly.
    “Best things in life are never planned,” he said just as quietly, taking her hand.
    She loved the feel of wind in her hair; she rolled her window down and caught Jock smiling at her before he turned on the radio.
    A song a few years old by Freddie and the Dreamers. “You Were Made for Me.”
    Jock started to sing and she grinned, wincing at the sting on her lip. His baritone didn’t really go with the group’s higher vocals.
    “You were made for me,” he sang, bringing her hand up to kiss the back of it. He wiggled his brows.
    She smiled even more, ignoring the pain on the side of her face. Instead she leaned back and listened to Jock sing, from one song to another. Normally she’d sing along, but for now she was content to just listen.
    To just be.
    With Jock, she knew she didn’t have to worry.
    Several miles passed and the radio had played a few more songs. He turned to her, and then reached over to turn the radio down.
    “What?” he asked her.
    She just shook her head. “Nothing.”
    “Something.”
    She didn’t answer him and he maneuvered through the traffic as he said, “You know, Kaitie, you’re safe.” He glanced at her again and then back to the road.
    “I know.”
    He took a deep breath. “I want to take you home, but I think it’d be a better idea if I took you to the hotel for now.”
    A breath of relief sighed out. Good. She didn’t know what she’d do if he took her home. He’d already told her of the big house he rarely visited because there was no one there.
    But it was his house. His home.
    She wasn’t quite ready for that, she realized. The hotel would be fine.
    She opened her mouth to tell him . . . tell him what? That she’d pay him back? She’d been to his hotel in Baltimore, and if the one in D.C. was as posh as that one, there was no way she could pay him back. Not right away, in any case. She’d have to find a job. She’d need references, but what if the hospital