Page 3 of Hell Hath No Fury

A quick search of Eric’s messages confirmed Emma’s assessment. Nothing raised any red flags. Matthias pocketed the phone and went in search of Emma, following the sounds of cabinets opening and closing. He passed through an arched doorway into a massive kitchen and attached living room.

Emma hadn’t been kidding about Eric’s book collection. One full wall of the living room held bookshelves filled with enough volumes to put some small-town libraries to shame. A second wall also contained bookshelves, but these shared the space with a massive television. One look at the kitchen stopped him cold. “Whoa.”

Emma stood before a deluxe coffee system and gave him a weak grin. “Almost as nice as yours, huh?”

“Nicer,” he admitted.

She focused on the coffee maker. “When I’ve stayed here, Eric’s the one who does all the cooking. He never allows anyone else in his kitchen. I have no clue how to even make a cup of coffee with this thing.”

Matthias moved to her side and whistled. “I’ve seen these units online. This is top of the line. It probably costs upward of five grand.”

In his peripheral vision, Emma’s gaze turned to him. “Seriously?”

“Your friend must do very well for himself.”

“He does, but what surprises me is that you’ve looked at high-end coffee machines online.”

“A fella can dream, can’t he?”

“All I want to know is, can you work it?”

“I’m damned sure gonna give it a shot.” He hiked an eyebrow at her. “Get it? Shot? Espresso?”

“I got it. You make the coffee. I’ll make some scrambled eggs. We can decide what to do next while we eat.”

ChapterTwo

Emma sat in her usual spot at Eric’s kitchen island and watched Matthias eat the eggs she’d cooked. He was much better at the stove than she was. No contest. But if it came down to him or Eric in aMasterChefcompetition? Toss up.

While Matthias’s focus was on his plate, Emma took the opportunity to study him. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, his strong jaw sporting a hint of stubble, there only because he wasn’t on the job. She had to admit it made him even sexier. His heavily muscled physique, a pair of scars on his face—one above his upper lip, the other transecting an eyebrow—and a nose that had been broken on more than one occasion solidified the tough-guy image.

And then there were those killer blue eyes that could scare the wits out of a criminal one minute and melt her heart the next.

He brought those eyes up to meet hers, and she felt the blood rise in her cheeks. “Do I have something on my face?” He brushed a hand across his lips.

“No.” She smiled. “I’m just admiring the view.”

The look he gave her drove away all thoughts of why they were sitting in Eric’s kitchen.

After a few flirtatious moments, Matthias grew serious and brought her back on task. “What’s the plan?”

Emma cleared her throat. “You’re the cop. What do you suggest?”

He shook his head. “We’re on your home turf. You know the area, and you know Eric and your sister. Think. Where would they go?”

You know your sister.At one time, yes. Now? Not even a little. Or maybe she did. “Our farm. Nell would want to be on our family farm.” Even though both houses had been destroyed by an arsonist.

Matthias stood. “All right then. That’s where we’ll start. I’ll load the dishwasher. You write a note for Eric in case he comes back.”

“Should we take his phone with us?”

“No.” Matthias dug the phone from his pocket and placed it in front of her. “Leave it with the note. That way he can call you when he comes home.”

At least Matthias hadn’t saidifhe comes home. She was trying to keep her worries hidden, but she could think of no acceptable reason for Eric to leave without a way to reach him.

* * *

The rain had diminished to a light drizzle by the time Emma directed Matthias to make the right turn into her farm’s lane.Herfarm had once been her parents’, her grandparents’, and her great-grandparents’ property. The driveway was overgrown and rutted, and the Jeep jounced up the rutted incline before the road gradually leveled out for the rest of the climb. Both her dad and grandfather had griped about the grade. They’d discussed hiring a local company with heavy equipment to reroute the lane, but neither lived long enough to tackle the project.