The Undead Next Door (Love at Stake #4)

His gaze would focus on her face with a hot intensity that curled her toes, then it roamed down her body, lingering here and there. Just thinking about it made her tingle all over. She was so aware of him. The air between them seemed to hum with some kind of magnetic current that sought to pull them together.

"Are you all right?" He glanced at her.

"Yes." She looked away. He must have felt her gaze. He was aware of her, too. "There's the entrance." She pointed at a dimly lit sign on the right.

Jean-Luc slowed and turned onto the narrow road.

"'Tis verra isolated here," Robby observed. "A good hiding place."

"The campers are down there." Heather gestured at a dirt road that veered off to the left.

"Campers?" Jean-Luc glanced back at Robby with a worried look.

"Bugger," Robby muttered.

A chill crept over Heather's bare arms. "You think the campers could be in danger?"

"If Lui has been here, yes." Jean-Luc eased down the road, glancing right and left. "He might need money and...food. Is that the place?" He pointed ahead.

Heather squinted and could barely make out the stone structure ahead. "Yes. You can park over there by the playground."

The slides and swing sets gleamed stark and gray under the overhead lamp. A corona of light circled the lamp, filled with buzzing insects. The swings dangled perfectly still in the warm, humid air.

Heather exited the parked car, then removed the flashlight from her purse and clicked it on. In just a few seconds, she was flanked by Jean-Luc and Robby. Both carried their swords.

She slung her purse over her shoulder. "Ready?"

Jean-Luc rested his fingertips lightly on her elbow. "Stay close to me."

Robby moved ahead to enter the stone shelter first. She climbed the steps with Jean-Luc at her side.

Large, open windows lined all four sides of the shelter to let breezes drift through on hot summer days. Leaves lay scattered across the cool cement floor, and the fluttering of bird wings echoed high in the rafters. A series of wooden picnic tables cut across the middle of the room.

Robby marched around the perimeter, apparently able to see without a flashlight. "There's no cellar door here."

"It's outside." Heather lit the way down the steps. "To the right."

Robby strode ahead while Jean-Luc remained glued to her side.

The warm air felt thick and moist against her bare skin. A mosquito buzzed by her ear, and she brushed it away. "Damned bloodsucker."

"Where?" Jean-Luc raised his sword, pivoting to look around.

Heather laughed. "You're going after a mosquito with a sword? Good luck with that."

He gave her a sheepish look. "I thought you meant something a little bigger."

"Like what? A bat? I don't think we have any vampire bats in Texas."

"You never know," he muttered, then motioned toward Robby. "He's found the cellar."

Heather heard the rattle of chains. She pointed her flashlight toward the noise and spotted Robby leaning over the cellar door. "Don't tell me they locked it. The cellar's supposed to be a tornado shelter for the campers."

Robby pulled the chains away from the looped door handles. "The lock was broken." He exchanged a look with Jean-Luc.

Heather wondered if the Scotsman was being entirely honest. He must be. He couldn't be strong enough to rip open a padlock.

"Let me help." Jean-Luc heaved open one of the doors while Robby opened the other.

Heather pointed her flashlight into the gaping dark hole. Sheesh, what had possessed her to come here? "So, who wants to go into the black pit of doom first?"

"I will." Robby started down the steps, holding his claymore ready.

"Don't you need the flashlight?" Heather asked.

"I can see," Robby muttered.

She kept the light aimed into the hole. "You were right," she whispered to Jean-Luc. "I shouldn't have come."

"What about being master of your own destiny?"

"I still believe that, and I believe I can protect myself. I'm just afraid you'll be more concerned with protecting me than catching Louie."

"You are correct. That's why I brought Robby."

"I don't want to hold you back. Or endanger you."

"I'll be fine." He moved to her right with his foil in his right hand. "Stay close behind me." He started down the stairs.

She took a deep breath. You're at war with fear. She followed him down, resting a hand on his shoulder.

When he reached the bottom, he took her hand to escort her toward the center of the room. She pivoted, shooting a beam of light in a circle around the dark cellar. It fit Fidelia's description. Dark. No windows. Stone walls. A thick layer of dust on the stone floor made her nose itch. Dirt and debris were swept into small mounds along the walls.

"Check the ceiling," Jean-Luc said quietly.

The ceiling? She aimed her flashlight up. Did they really expect Louie to hang around the ceiling? That was weird.

"It's clear," Jean-Luc announced.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Great. No homicidal maniacs here."

"Nay. 'Tis safe enough." Robby circled the room. As he approached a dark corner, little scurrying feet pattered away from him.

"A rat!" Heather grabbed Jean-Luc's arm and pressed close. Her flashlight waved about wildly.

He took the flashlight and located the creature. "Don't worry. It's just a mouse."

"Are you kidding? That thing is huge!"

"It's a harmless little field mouse."

"Haven't you heard? Everything is big in Texas."

"Our rats in France would laugh at your mouse." Jean-Luc looped an arm around her shoulders. "You haven't lived until you've seen the rats of Paris."

"Oh, that's so romantic...not."

"Ah, now there's a big one with giant claws and sharp teeth." He laughed when she flung her arms around his neck. "Not."

"What?" She realized her face was pressed close to his.

"I was kidding." His arms wrapped around her. "But I can't apologize. I'm quite happy with the results."

"You rascal. You scared me." She should have swatted him, or at least pulled away from him, but it felt so good to have his strong arms around her and the solid warmth of his chest pressed against her.

He rubbed his chin against her brow. The soft scrape of whiskers was both masculine and comforting.

"I doona believe Lui was ever here," Robby announced. "As dusty as the floor is, there would be footprints."

"I agree." Jean-Luc kept his arms around Heather.

Robby muttered something under his breath. "Shall I leave ye two alone?"

Jean-Luc chuckled. "We're coming." He released Heather and handed her the flashlight. "We've done enough for tonight."

Enough searching for Louie or enough hugging? She would have enjoyed a few more minutes of hugging. Or an hour or two. She followed them to the staircase and took Jean-Luc's hand to ascend the steps. The night air smelled fresh compared to the musty, dank air of the cellar.

"We'll try again tomorrow," Jean-Luc announced as he and Robby shut the cellar doors.

Tomorrow? That was Sunday. "I have other plans, but we can go somewhere afterward."

"What plans?" Jean-Luc escorted her back to his car. "I cannot leave you unprotected."

"I already volunteered to help out at the fair. The church is trying to raise money for some playground equipment. I have to be there early to set up chairs and stuff. Fidelia and Bethany will be there, too."

Jean-Luc frowned. "A public place could be dangerous. Robby and I will have to come."

Robby groaned.

Heather grinned. "Great! It starts at seven. At Riverside Park."

"Fine." Jean-Luc pressed his keypad to unlock his car, then opened the door for her. "And afterward, we will continue our hunt for Lui. If you can, think of more places that fit Fidelia's description."

"Okay." She climbed into the car, and he shut the door.

She could hear Jean-Luc and Robby discussing something quietly. Probably the best strategy for keeping her and Bethany alive. She slipped her flashlight into her purse, next to the Glock. With the arrival of Jean-Luc Echarpe, her life had become much more exciting. She was not going to let Louie take her life away.

But she might just lose her heart to Jean-Luc.

The next evening, Heather was setting up chairs at Riverside Park. It had been another uneventful day with no sign of Louie. They'd gone to church in the morning, then they'd goofed off the rest of the day. Jean-Luc had promised to come soon after sunset. She'd found herself eagerly wishing for the day to pass by so she could see him again.

"Need some help with that?"

She cringed at the sound of the booming voice and prayed it was not directed at her. She glanced up. Nope, Coach Gunter was swaggering toward her. The football coach at Guadalupe High had been trying to score for more than six months. The fact that Heather hadn't let him get a first down did not deter him.

"No thank you." She turned her back to him as she unfolded a metal chair. She still had the last row to set up in front of the gazebo where the children would sing.

Coach Gunter circled in front of her so she couldn't help but see him and assumed his usual Superman pose - feet spread, hands on hips, chest thrust out. He also wore his usual attire - a sleeveless T-shirt to show off his bulging biceps, and shorts to show off his muscular calves.

Heather considered him a miniature caveman - short in stature and shorter on brains. There were eligible women in town who collected miniatures. He really should try his luck with them. Some women did ogle his manly physique, and Coach knew it. Heather could tell he expected her to stop her work and admire him, but she continued to unfold chairs and line them up. Bethany was her assistant, sitting in each chair to make sure it worked properly.

"How do you like my swim trunks?" Coach swiveled, no doubt to showcase his buns of steel.

"They're okay." Heather dragged another folding chair off the nearby stack.

"I'm doing the dunking booth," Coach continued. "You should come by later and see me all wet." He winked.

Heather made a noncommittal, grunting sound as she snapped another chair open and placed it in line. She smiled at her daughter. "How does this one work?"

Bethany wiggled onto the chair. "It's fine, Mama." She glanced up at the coach. "I'm gonna sing tonight."

"Yeah, whatever." Coach gave her a dubious look, then his face brightened. "Hey, how'd you like to go out with your mom and me for some ice cream later tonight?"

Bethany squirmed on her chair, grinning. "I love ice cream!" She looked at her mom expectantly.

Oh, foul play. Heather had just picked up another metal chair, and she contemplated whacking the coach on the head with it. But would he feel it? With her luck, he'd consider it some kind of Neanderthal foreplay.

She jerked the chair open and gave her daughter a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but Coach should have asked me first." She straightened, glaring at the coach. "We already have plans for tonight."

He jutted out his chin. "So the rumors are true? You have a new boyfriend?"

Sometimes this town was a little too small. Heather glanced at the sun skimming along the tops of the trees. In less than an hour, Jean-Luc would arrive. "I have some friends coming later."

"Yeah, right," Coach muttered. "You don't know what you're missing." He stalked away.

With a sigh, Heather grabbed another chair. Only three more to set up. The fair started in five minutes. There was already a line of people at the ticket booth.

"Don't you like him, Mama?" Bethany asked quietly.

"Coach?" Heather positioned the chair next to her daughter. "He never did help me with the chairs, did he?"

"I'm helping you." Bethany climbed onto the one she'd just set up.

"Yep, you're doing quality control. And doing a great job." Heather retrieved another chair from the stack.

Bethany scrunched up her little nose as if in deep thought. "He thinks he's pretty."

The coach? Heather laughed as she opened the chair. "I think you're right. You're a smart cookie."

Bethany shrugged like it was a given. "I like Emma."

"So do I." Heather picked up the last chair.

"Will she see me sing?"

"I believe so." Heather opened the last chair and sat next to her daughter.

"I like the man who talks funny, too."

Heather's heart did a little flip. "Mr. Echarpe?" She'd tried hard not to think about him all day, but he'd still crept into her thoughts a dozen times. Per hour.

Bethany crossed her little legs, mimicking an adult, then folded her arms and rested her chin on one palm. She tapped her chin with a finger. It was her serious thinking pose. Heather considered it adorable, and it always made her want to drag her daughter into her arms for a big hug. She refrained, however, since she knew she should encourage her daughter to think for herself. She glanced at the sun once more, trying to estimate how long it would take to set. And how long before she'd see Jean-Luc.

"Mr. Sharp doesn't know he's pretty," Bethany announced. "But he is."

Heather's mouth dropped open. Good Lord, she'd given birth to a genius. "I think you're brilliant."