Annie on the Lam: A Christmas Caper (22 page)

“He's had a shot of morphine,” the doctor told her. “He's drunk as a skid row bum but he'll be fine.”

Annie turned back to Joe.

“I'm sorry,” Joe murmured groggily. “I'm a jerk.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, his fingers cold against her skin. “I need you, Annie.”

She kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, then laughed as she peered into his drug-hazed eyes. “I need you, too, Joe. No one else knows how to warm up my feet.”

He managed a shaky, lopsided smile. “Wish I could help you with that right now, Sweet Tea. Afraid you'll have to catch me later.” His eyelids drooped. “Definitely later.”

Annie leaned down to his ear, whispered, “I love you, Joe.”

One eye twitched. “Enough to take in Mac while I'm laid up? Trust me, it gets lonely in that apartment by yourself. He's a good bird most of the time, no matter what Dino says.”

Smiling, Annie glanced back at the doctor. “Are you sure he's drunk? I think maybe he's just using the morphine as an excuse to take advantage of my good nature.”

The doctor laughed and left the room.

When she looked at Joe again, Annie noticed a flicker of pain in his eyes that no amount of morphine could dim.

“I'm sorry about O'Malley,” she said.

“Me, too.” He turned his head.

Annie covered his hand with hers, sensing he wasn't ready to talk about his partner. “I guess it won't be so bad having Mac keep me company until you're out of here,” she said to change the subject. “But I do have one question. Do you ask so much of all the women in your life?”

A sob sounded behind Annie, and she looked back to see a pretty, petite elderly woman with gray-streaked dark hair enter the room. “He does ask a lot,” the woman said, pausing at the foot of Joe's bed where she proceeded to burst into tears. “I clean his apartment, you know?”

Releasing Joe's hand, Annie approached the woman. “You must be Joe's mother.”

“Yes.” Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, Mrs. Brady said, “My Joey, he's had a hard time this past year. Now this.”

“The doctor says he'll be fine.” She offered the older woman her hand. “I'm Anne Macy. Joe's told me wonderful things about you.”

“And Dino's told me all about you.” Mrs. Brady linked her fingers with Annie's and smiled through her tears. “He's a good boy, my Joey.” She leaned closer and in a conspiratorial whisper, added, “But I warn you, he lives like a pig.”

People
were already leaving the cemetery when Annie's cab pulled up. After paying the driver, she climbed out and scanned the somber faces in the crowd. She had planned to be here for Joe, to stand beside him, to help him through what she knew would be a difficult ordeal. Cathy O'Malley had died three days before. Joe had been more than a little antsy about the funeral, about coming face-to-face with his ex-partner again for the first time since the shooting.

But just as Annie had been leaving her apartment, her attorney called, making her late.

She had not gone home to Georgia for Christmas. Instead, her family came to New York. Even if the police hadn't ordered her not to leave the city, she wouldn't have been able to go with Joe still in the hospital.

They spent Christmas Eve in his hospital room, she and her father, Aunt Tawney and Uncle Hank, and Aunt Tess. Joe's mother and Dino and Joe's aunt Sophie were there, too, as well as a stream of other Brady and Corelli relatives too numerous to count.

Yesterday, Joe was released from the hospital and they celebrated Christmas at his aunt Sophie's house. He had remained quiet and pensive throughout it all, and Annie had not been able to steal one minute alone with him to talk.

With her hands in the pockets of her coat, she made her way across the snow-patched cemetery grounds. Though the temperature remained brisk, the sun was out and the wind had stilled. She spotted Joe alongside a canopy, embracing a slender wisp of a girl. His gaze met hers and she knew instinctively that the young woman was Steve O'Malley's daughter Jayne, whom Joe had mentioned with fondness. After introductions were made and Annie expressed her condolences, she and Joe started off toward his car side by side.

He leaned on a cane, favoring his wounded leg as he walked. He wasn't supposed to be on it so soon, but she knew scolding him would do no good. In the past few days, she'd found out just how stubborn Joe could be.

“I'm sorry I missed the service, but it couldn't be helped,” she told him. “I have some good news.”

“I could use some right now.”

Annie linked her arm through his. “I really hated not being here for you. I didn't see Steve. How did he hold up?”

“They didn't let him stick around long. He couldn't handle it, anyway. He fell apart. I think he believes the knowledge of what he did killed Cathy. I'm not sure I disagree.” He shook his head, his voice strained and tired. “If he'd come to me, I would've helped him out with the money. I could have if I'd stayed on the force.”

“I wish I could promise that you'll make sense of this one day.”

Joe exhaled a long, noisy breath as they stopped beside his car.

She took the keys from him, determined to drive, even if he put up a fight about it. “Why didn't you take a cab or have someone bring you? How in the world did you drive with your leg like that?”

“I did fine.”

“Such a tough guy.” At least on the surface, Annie thought. He was tender underneath.

“When you didn't show up,” he said, leaning against the car, “I thought maybe you'd had a change of heart about us now that the doc says I'm out of the woods.”

“You aren't getting rid of me that easily, Brady.”

He frowned. “I don't have anything solid to offer in the way of a future. I'm an unemployed cop, I—”

“Here we go again.” Annie whacked his chest. “If this ‘I'm not good enough for you' routine is your way of trying to dump me, well you're not going to get away with it. I love you.” She tilted her head to one side. “How do you feel about that?”

“It's just—” He cleared his throat, looked away briefly, then back at her. “I have a lot of baggage.”

“I'm strong. I can help you unload it, if you'll let me.”

He studied her, nodded across the street at a park. “Let's walk. Over there where it's not so depressing. I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“Your leg—”

“Is fine. Let's go.”

She scowled at him. “Yes, Mr. Brady.”

They crossed at the light. Once in the park, he draped one arm around her shoulders. “So what's your good news?”

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“I'll get back to it.”

She looked sideways at him. “My attorney called. That's why I was late. The D.A. is dropping my case.”

Joe stopped beneath a tree and faced her. The sun filtered down through the branches. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, she saw a hint of the old smile she loved. “That's not only good news, it's fantastic. Did he mention anything about Willis and Prine?”

She nodded. “No bail. They're stuck behind bars until the trial. Reno and Harry, too. I'm not looking forward to testifying.”

“I am. And you're not leaving my sight until we do. The sooner we testify, the sooner we can put all of this behind us.” With a sudden burst of laughter, he leaned his cane against the tree trunk, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her feet off the ground. “This deserves a celebration.”

She smiled down at him. “Dinner?”

His eyes searched hers. “Since you said there's no getting rid of you, I was thinking more along the lines of a wedding.”

Her heart stopped a moment, then started up again in double time. “Are you serious?”

He lowered her to the ground and laughed again. “Yeah, dead serious.” Clearing his throat dramatically, he took both her hands in his. “Pretend I'm on my knees. I would be if not for this leg.”

Everything around them seemed to fade into the background as she looked into Joe's eyes.

“Annie,” he said, “I'm forty-one years old and you're the first woman I've ever been truly and deeply in love with.”

Her eyes filled. “Truly?”

He nodded. “And deeply.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I thought you were forty?”

“You know what I meant.”

Joe smiled. “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

An image flashed before her eyes. Giggling perimenopausal poodles in poofy pink dresses. Aunt Tawney fluttering around her, fussing and fidgeting with an itchy, crooked, delicate white veil.

“On one condition,” Annie said. She winced. “Can we elope?”

He nodded.

Lifting onto her tiptoes, she threw her arms around his neck. “Then my answer is yes.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
”

His smile turned into a dazzling grin. “No doubts?”

“No doubts.”

“You won't pull the runaway bride act on me?”

She shook her head. “Honey, I've been there, done that.” They sealed the deal with a kiss, then Annie leaned back. “So where do we go from here?”

“What would you think about being a small-town sheriff's wife? I seem to recall Pinesborough County's in need of a new sheriff.”

“Are you serious?” she asked again.

“You could get a job or go back to school at the college the next town over. Or, you could just stay home and be my love slave.”

“Actually, I seem to recall that the women of Pinesborough are in need of a nice clothing boutique, too.” She gave him a coy look. “I could bring a little Georgia style into town.”

“You being a proper southern belle and all,” he drawled.

She winked. “You mean a
tarnished
southern belle. Maybe that's what I'll call it. The Tarnished Belle. What do you think?”

His brows tugged together, and he poked out his lip. “I was really kind of hoping you'd go for the love slave suggestion.”

“If the business goes belly-up, I'll keep that in mind.” When Joe reached for his cane, she took hold of his other hand and they started off again. “We'll need someone to watch the baby while I work. At least until he or she is old enough to take with me to the boutique. You think your mom might like living in Pinesborough?”

“Baby?” Joe missed a step, stumbled a little.

“We could find her a little place to rent. You know, something with a yard and a garden like she's always wanted. And I'm sure Aunt Tess wouldn't mind us renting her barn until we can afford to buy a place.” She drew closer to his side, murmured, “It has a great big bed we could get lost in every night.”

“I remember.” He blinked at her, his face pale. “Back to the baby. Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Wipe that panicked look off your face. I'm just trying to tell you that my biological clock is ticking. There's still time, but not much. I want a dark-haired little boy or girl that looks just like you.”

“We can work on that.” He stopped walking, tugged her against him, kissed her long and deep. Then he held her close, so close she felt his muscles trembling. “Does this mean we can throw away those little Christmas presents from Lacy?”

Annie smiled up at him. “I already did.”