Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4) (31 page)

"What's going on in here?" Security approaches Joe in the bed.

I can see the cogs turning in that vile bitch's head when she speaks up.

"I want to press assault charges," she has the gall to say, working hard to make a few tears appear.

Oh hell no. That is not going to happen. There is no way in hell I'm gonna let her pull a fast one on Joe.

"Really? You want to tell me you didn't come in here, undress yourself, while my man was sleeping in the bed and tried to force yourself on
him?
Because that's sure what it looked like from here. All Joe did was pull your mouth, which probably tastes like pond scum, away from his when he woke up. You're a repulsive human being, Jenna, and a very sore loser. You really think that little show you put on was gonna fool me? Or win him over? I know your mind is too small to comprehend, but Joe loves me. I love him, and some power crazy, surgically enhanced crotch muncher isn't gonna change that!"

GOD
that feels good. Joe is smiling at me from the bed. No. He's actually grinning like this is the funniest fucking thing ever when I'm still energized with indignant rage, so I throw him what I hope is a scathing look. Only seems to make him grin wider. I hadn't noticed the increase in audience since I started my little tirade, but it appears the room has filled with onlookers. Oops. A quick look at Jenna tells me she isn't too happy with me. Go figure. If looks could kill? Yeah. Code blue.

"Ms. Stanley? I need a word with you in my office please."

Stare down interrupted, I turn around to find Gordon Pinchette, our Medical Chief of Staff standing in the doorway. The portly grey-haired head honcho is not one of my favorite people in the hospital, too politically colored and utterly intimidating on most days, but today I think I could kiss him. Jenna visibly blanches under his dark glare, but then straightens her shoulders and walks with her chin high through the throng of people now gathered around the doorway. Dr. Pinchette lets her pass before glancing around the room. "Show's over folks, back to work. Sheriff, Dr. Waters, my apologies for this unfortunate incident. I'll be in touch." With that he too turns on his heels and stalks off after Jenna in the direction of his office.
Oh my.

When the security guard and the nursing staff along with a few nosy passers-by have dispersed, only Fox—who apparently heard enough to come see—Joe and I are left.

"Crotch muncher, Mom? And you tell me to watch my language."

Of course my son would hear that,
and
feel the need to repeat it, to Joe's apparent great hilarity.

"It slipped," I defend myself rather pitifully, but then Fox turns to Joe.

"And you actually went there?" The look he throws Joe is one tinged with disappointment. It's obvious Joe is affected by the way he flinches at the words and scrutiny from my protective son. Part of me wants to jump in and defend him, but I decide to let them figure this one out. After all, they had a pretty good thing going and if Joe wants to be in our lives, he's gonna have to deal with the brutal honesty he can get from a teenager. So I keep my mouth shut and go to set the coffee cups I've been clenching in my hands this whole time, on the bedside table.

"I messed up with your mom the first time, years ago, Bud. In hindsight that may not have been a bad thing. I needed time to sort stuff out before I was really ready for her.” He throws me a regretful glance, before turning his attention back to Fox. “My last big mistake was when I was feeling sorry for myself and finally acted on a standing invitation from Ms. Stanley.” A derisive snort from Fox has Joe raise his hands. “Not making excuses here; I effed up royally and regretted it almost instantly. Even then, I'm pretty sure I was already in love with your mother and still I went there. I'm responsible for a lot of the shit she's been putting your mother through and there's nothing I can change about that now. “

One look at Fox shows me the earlier anger in his body is already waning. His attention is completely focused on Joe’s words.

“Trust me. If I could go back and make a different decision I would, but that's not the way things work. You mess up, you work hard to deal with the consequences — ‘cause, Bud, there's always gonna be consequences—hoping you can set things right, and then you move past it. You hear me?"

I've snuck in closer to Joe's side and grabbed hold of his hand, whether to show Joe my support or Fox a united front. Either way works for me.

"I hear you." Fox's mumbled response is barely audible and knowing my kid, he's likely processing some of what Joe said. Recognizing some of that speech could just as easily be applied to his own situation. Joe's not stupid. He comes clean with him, but at the same time, tries to teach him a valuable lesson; one that Fox will hopefully tuck away somewhere safe. Joe's apparently not done, because he continues, "You know I'm proud of you though, Bud. You kept your cool and had my ass back there. If not for your dead aim with that bum arm of yours, I might not have been here. That right there is one decision I hope you will never come to regret, just like I'll never regret drawing on and shooting the man, ‘cause you're still in one piece. Tucking that ball away was a dangerous move, but a smart one and don't be afraid to tell everything you know to the detective and the FBI when they ask you later. These are the good decisions we sometimes make—and even those come with consequences that have to be dealt with, those are also not always pleasant, but at least you can hold your head high. You saved my life."

"Why don't you give Gus a call to pick you up?"

"What? And have him drive out here again to pick you up later? I'll wait. Neil's already come to get Fox and the impression I got from Detective Dooley when he was questioning Fox earlier, the feds still want to talk to us both. Dooley's waiting for a phone call. Just sit tight. I'm sure we'll be out of here soon."

I finally got cleaned up and stitched by some pimple-faced doctor, who looked to be barely older than Fox. Naomi swears he is good, but I was watching him like a hawk anyway. Didn't like the way he got
friendly
with Doc. He said he was sending someone back with a sheet of information, some antibiotics, and painkillers, which I refused. All that was over an hour ago. In the meantime my phone's been ringing off the hook. Carol called having put out the original call. Drew did as well, even though I'd seen him briefly at the house and then there was the brass; they're on my case because I discharged a weapon while under suspension. Never mind that it was my personal weapon or that I was trying to save a life. No, they're more concerned about which bullet actually killed Heffler, and my apparent 'inappropriate conduct' as they called it. Fuck this. I just want to get out of here.

Just as I'm about to use the nurse call bell for the third time, the door swings open and Stacy comes in.

"Hey girl!" Naomi is on her feet hugging the nurse in a second. "Did you just come on shift? How've you been?"

Stacy bursts out laughing. "You serious? How have I been? My life is same old, same old. But from what I hear, yours is more exciting than an episode of 'Bones.' I'm surviving without you—barely—although this afternoon's little incident in the parking lot, when I was just getting out of my car, gives me renewed hope there is a God," she says snickering and looks at Naomi who has her eyebrows raised in question. "I spotted a certain bedraggled looking hospital administrator being led to her car by security with a big ole box in her arms."

"No shit. About fucking time too. The woman is a menace."

Both women look at me and Naomi smiles before turning to Stacy. "Here's the deal. You get Joe out of here in the next five minutes and I'll give you all the dirt."

Without hesitation, Stacy walks over to the bed and throws the covers back.

"Out." This to me, before she turns to Doc and says, "Now spill."

"Where to?" Gus asks when he finally picks us up an hour and twenty minutes later.

"Your guesthouse, if you don't mind, Gus," Naomi answers and I'm too tired to object.

Of course the minute Stacy has me ready to go, Dooley and Special Agent Marks walk in.
Christ.
Almost made it. Both Naomi and I go over the events as we remember them from this morning.  Details of the brief conversation start floating back and I mention what Heffler said about James leaving 'insurance.'

"Fox said something about that in his interview with us too, but he can't think of anything his father gave him before he left. Nothing that would contain files of any kind. I know I asked earlier, but have you come up with any ideas Dr. Waters?" SA Marks directs his attention to Naomi who just shakes her head.

"Nothing. Really, I can't think of anything. He hasn't sent anything by email or mail in the longest time and even then it had to do with Fox one way or another. School or health or something. I wouldn't even know what I'd be looking for, to be honest."

"Well if anything comes to mind, at any time, please let us know right away. Heffler may no longer be a problem, but we know he has a large network behind him. Until we can start tying things together, I'd still suggest you remain cautious. Phoenix PD has had to release Bancroft. Apparently they managed to get a search warrant for his home, but that didn't produce anything. Judge wouldn't allow one for the office though. He said evidence to warrant a search was too thin to justify compromising the confidentiality of all the firm's clients. We're keep close tabs on him, so that the moment he moves, we'll be on him. For now he seems to be doing his normal routines. Just stay alert."

Fucking great.

Things are wrapped up pretty quickly after that and I make it a point to get both of them to promise to contact me directly should anything change. Right now, I'm tired and just want to sleep with my woman in my arms.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get you to bed."

I must've dozed off, because when I open my eyes we're parked in front of Gus and Emma's place.

"Slept enough for now," I mumble, trying to battle through the lingering brain fog. My leg stings like a son of a bitch, instantly reminding me of the day’s events. It's gotta be eight o'clock or even later, ‘cause the sun is almost down.

"What do you want to do then? Come in for a quick bite—Emma's kept something warm for ya—or do you wanna go straight back?" Gus asks as he's helping me get out of his Yukon. The hospital provided me with a pair of scrubs since my jeans were toast, and there is a stiff breeze I can feel on my legs through the thin material. Damn. Already winter is close.

"Food I guess. Okay with you, Doc?" Naomi is just coming around the back of the truck.

"Yeah, sure. I'm good with that. After that, you're going to lay back down though. You can play the tough guy tomorrow again."

I suddenly realize the kid isn't there. "Where's Fox? Shouldn't he be here?"

"He and Neil came here, had a bit to eat and I told him it was okay for him to tag along with Neil to his room. Wasn't sure what time you guys were gonna be done and I figured after today the kid could use some distraction."

Naomi walks up to Gus and reaches up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for looking after him," she smiles.

I can't help it. I don't like seeing those lips anywhere near another guy; even if it's my best friend who is happily married at that.

After allowing Emma to fuss over us with food and attention for a bit, I'm finally where I want to be; in bed with Naomi cuddled up beside me. God I love that woman.

First thing she did when we got here was lead me to the bedroom, sit me down on the edge after getting rid of my scrubs and giving me the best sponge bath imaginable. Stuff fucking dreams are made of and I didn't even move. The sight of dark hair spread out over my thighs and feel of her mouth around my cock was enough to have me come within a couple minutes. Wouldn't allow me to return the favor either. Now her breathing is deep against my shoulder and I'm still wide awake. Exhausted and sore, but awake and thinking about my future.

Our future.

"M
om—I can't find my deodorant!"

"Bub, Jesus! There are spares in the second drawer in the bathroom. Will you hurry up? You're gonna be late for school."

I'm still lying in bed, having had a late night last night going over some loose ends with Gus and his crew. Naomi woke me up with a coffee this morning, only to tell me she'd be back after dropping Fox off for school and that if I catch some extra sleep I
might
be ready for her when she comes back. My girl's got plans for me. It's been a bit of a challenge, us all cramming into the guesthouse, with Fox now taking residence on the couch, but every time I suggest going back to my place, Naomi argues that I'm not quite a hundred percent yet. Bullshit, and she knows it, but who am I to argue. I like going to sleep with my woman in my arms, even if we have done little more than snuggle and pet with Fox constantly around. Things are about to change though, cause the day after the shooting, her realtor called to let her know she had a serious bid on her house in Cortez and the people were looking for a quick possession. That meant that Naomi was able to turn around and get the lawyer to start finalizing the purchase of the Parker place and by Wednesday the ink was on the paper. With a bit of luck she'll be able to move in after the weekend. I have already lined up a few surprises for her.