Cold Hearts (21 page)

He walked back into the hospital with a lighter heart. Lots of details still had to be worked out and the place had to be appraised, but it felt right.

He hurried down the hall to the elevator, ready to be free of this place, and walked up on a woman already waiting for it to arrive. When she turned and saw him, she broke into a wide smile.

“Mack Jackson! It’s been ages.” Then the smile shifted to an expression of sympathy. “I’m so sorry about your father’s passing. He was a good man.”

“Thanks,” Mack said, trying not to stare.

She smiled again. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

“No, I’m sorry but—”

“Jessica York...used to be Jessica Shayne. We were in the same graduating class, remember?”

His eyes narrowed and then he looked away. “Yes, I remember.”

“I’ll bet you’re on the way to visit the same person I’m going to see. Melissa Sherman?”

“No, you aren’t going to visit her. She isn’t going to want to see you,” he snapped.

Jessica gasped at the insult. “I know you two were a thing years ago, but I’m certain you don’t speak for her.”

“We’re still a thing, and the reason I know she isn’t going to want to see you is because she told me only a few days ago that it was you who started the rumor about her having an abortion back in high school, when you knew all along it was a miscarriage. It hurt her in more ways than you will ever imagine.”

An angry red flush swept up Jessica’s throat and face. “Why, I never—”

Mack poked a finger in her face, stopping only inches away from her nose.

“Yes, you did, and if you ever start another ugly lie about her, I will make you sorry. Do we understand each other?”

Her face went from red to a pale, pasty white as she turned on one heel and started walking toward the exit. Her stride was hurried. And she kept looking over her shoulder every few seconds, as if fearing he was on the attack.

The elevator doors opened.

Mack walked in, punched the number to the floor and watched Jessica York until the doors completely closed. The last glimpse he had of the woman, she was running.

* * *

It was midafternoon by the time Lissa was released from the hospital, and now she was waiting for Mack to come get her. He’d gone down to the parking lot a short while ago to meet some men who were bringing his car. She couldn’t wait to get home. It felt like she’d been gone for days instead of twenty-four hours.

They’d cut off her clothes in the ER, so they’d found a pair of hospital scrubs for her to wear home. She was stiff and sore in almost every muscle and still battling a horrible headache, but she was no longer seeing double and had lost the need to fall asleep every ten minutes. The restrictions on what she could and could not do were enough for her to know she still couldn’t go back to the classroom, but as Mack kept telling her, they would figure all that out later.

When she heard footsteps coming down the hall, she rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed. She would know that stride anywhere. Mack was back.

“Hey, baby! Did you miss me?” he asked, and then gave her a quick kiss. “Nice duds,” he added.

“I just want to go home,” she said.

“Me, too. The nurse is coming with the wheelchair. I have all your paperwork, so we’re good to go.”

They both turned as the sound of footsteps neared the open doorway, and were surprised when it was Chief Jakes who walked in and not the nurse.

“Hey, Melissa. It’s good to see you up and smiling,” Trey said, and then he gave her the sack he was holding. “It’s your purse. It was still in your cart at the supermarket. One of the shoppers turned it in to the manager, and he brought it to the police department this morning.”

Lissa sighed. “I hadn’t even thought of it, which tells you how rattled my head has been. Thank you so much.”

Trey smiled. “Happy to help.”

“Hey, Trey, I don’t suppose you have anything new on Dad’s death?” Mack asked.

The smile disappeared. “I’m sorry to say I don’t. I sent that tassel to the state crime lab with a rush request, but I haven’t heard anything.”

“I had to ask,” Mack said.

“So where are you headed from here?” Trey asked.

“Back to Dad’s house,” Mack said. “There’s still the memorial service to get through.”

“If either of you needs anything, all you have to do is ask,” Trey said. He left just as a nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room.

“There’s your ride,” Mack said as he helped Lissa down from the bed.

“You go bring the car up to the door while I wheel her down,” the nurse said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mack said, and headed for the elevator as the nurse settled Lissa into the wheelchair.

His shoulder was aching and the staples in his arm were beginning to pull, but he felt like he was walking on water.

The danger to Lissa was over, and their life together was about to begin.

The drive home was anticlimactic. Knowing Mack was beside her and her life was no longer in jeopardy was a gift. The simple pleasure of sunlight coming in through the windshield and someone waving at them as they passed put a smile on Lissa’s face.

Mack went by the drive-through pharmacy and picked up a prescription that had been called in for her. The lady at the window had to take the time to tell Lissa that she’d heard all about her ordeal and wished her well before they could leave.

Lissa was smiling as they drove away, but it did occur to her that she was once again without a car.

“I hate to bring this up, but I need to make a decision about my car,” Lissa said.

“I don’t know when Trey is going to release it,” Mack said.

“Whenever he does, I’m going to trade it in and get a new one.”

“Are you sure you—”

Lissa held up a finger to make her point, just as she would have had done in the classroom. “I’m positive. I do not ever want to sit in that car again.”

He nodded. “I totally understand. Look, if it’s okay with you, you can drive this SUV and I’ll drive Dad’s truck until we can arrange something else. That way we won’t be under any pressure to hurry.”

“That sounds like a good idea, thank you,” she said.

There was a lump in Lissa’s throat the size of her fist. She blew him a kiss and quickly looked away.

Mack saw the tears in her eyes and knew what she was thinking. They would never get back the years that they’d lost, and they’d almost died before getting their second chance. It was enough to make anyone cry.

He took the next left and fixed his eyes on the third house on the right.

“And we’re here,” he said, as he pulled up into the driveway and parked beneath the carport.

Lissa got out without saying much, but she clasped his hand tightly as he walked her up the steps and then to the door.

The click of a turning lock had never sounded so good.

Mack felt blessed. The familiarity of comfortable surroundings and the woman at his side gave him a sense of peace. He hadn’t felt this at ease since he’d gotten the call about his father’s death.

Lissa was just as relieved to still be alive and was grateful for Mack’s presence.

“I just want to lie down,” she said.

“Sure thing, honey,” he said, and he helped her to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers as she kicked off her shoes and eased down onto the mattress.

“Oh, dear God, every muscle in my body aches,” she whispered, then rolled over and closed her eyes. The pillow was cool against her cheek as Mack pulled up the covers.

“You need to rest, too,” she said.

“Don’t worry about me, honey. I’m a couple of days ahead of you on healing. I’ll be back shortly. I just have a few phone calls to make.”

Mack’s steps were long and measured as he headed for his dad’s office. It was time to make arrangements for the memorial service. He sat down at the desk, and as he did, he felt his father’s presence so strongly it made him ache.

“I miss you,” he said, then he called Pastor Farley.

The church secretary answered, then transferred his call. Pastor Farley answered immediately.

“Pastor Farley speaking,” he said.

“It’s me, sir. Mack Jackson. You told me to give you a call when I was ready to schedule the memorial service.”

“Yes. Of course,” the pastor said. “What did you have in mind?”

Mack went through the list of things he wanted to include. After a brief discussion regarding dates and times, they settled on the day after next at 2:00 p.m.

“Wednesday at two,” Pastor Farley repeated. “I’ll have my secretary get it in the daily paper, and we’ll need a eulogy from you.”

Mack sighed. “I’ll get it to you tomorrow. I just got Melissa home from the hospital, and we’re both beat.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want flowers at the church?”

Mack sighed. “Yes. I forgot about that. I’ll call them now.” He disconnected, then found the number and called the florist.

A few minutes later he hung up again and got up to take his pain meds. There were other things he probably should do, like check in at the lumberyard. Maybe get one of the casseroles from the church ladies out of the freezer. Check to see if he had any messages. But all he could think about was getting to his bedroom and lying down beside the woman he loved. He’d lost her ten years ago and by the grace of God had her back. He would tend to business later.

He downed the meds and headed back to his bedroom, where he stopped in the doorway. All he could see was the back of her head and a tangle of honey-colored curls. She looked so small beneath the covers, but her heart and courage made up for her lack of height.

He stripped off clothes as he went until he was down to undershorts and a T-shirt, and then he eased into bed, being careful not to jostle her awake.

Thick golden eyelashes rested lightly on the bruise around her eye. The bruise would fade, but his love never would. He leaned over just far enough to kiss her cheek, then stretched out beside her and closed his eyes.

Seventeen

L
issa woke up to the sound of rain on the roof. The first thought that went through her head was that the students wouldn’t be allowed to go out at recess, which meant she would be penned in with a room full of antsy six-year-olds.

And then she remembered and rolled over.

Mack was asleep beside her, still
her
Mack, just a little older and a whole lot sexier. He wore maturity well, but he looked as battered as she felt. There were so many staples in his left arm it looked like he had a zipper, and she knew his back was bandaged again because the doctor had needed to repair what he’d done to himself in getting her to safety. They were both wrecks, but still here and still together. It was enough.

She slipped out of bed and then hobbled her way to the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later feeling better for having slept and slightly surprised it was only a little after 5:00 p.m. She’d thought she’d slept all night, not just through the afternoon.

When she got back to the bedroom she changed out of the scrubs she’d come home in and into sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. After pulling the shirt over her head, she reached up to finger comb her curls back into place and, as she did, accidentally touched the cut the doctors had fixed.

Then she wondered if her hair was bloody and had to go back to the bathroom to look. To her surprise, it wasn’t, and she could only assume that when they flushed the cut to clean it, they must have rinsed the blood from her hair, as well. What she did see was a small circle about the size of a half-dollar that had been shaved before they had glued the edges of the cut back together again. But when she fluffed the curls back around the spot, it disappeared. So there was a reason for thick, curly hair after all.

She put on a pair of warm socks and some slippers, and headed for the kitchen. She was hungry and thirsty, and guessed Mack would wake up the same way.

She got a drink and then started to dig through the refrigerator before she remembered the donated food he’d put in the freezer. She looked until she found a casserole full of meat and vegetables, then put it in the oven to heat. A little too hungry to wait for it to be ready, she got a couple of Frieda Sanford’s cookies and sat down at the kitchen table with those and a glass of milk.

She had just taken the first bite of her last cookie when she heard Mack’s footsteps.

“There you are,” he said, and leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “Mmm, you taste like cookies.”

“Open wide,” she said, and when he did, she poked the rest of her cookie in his mouth. “Some of Frieda Sanford’s cookies,” she said. “I was starving, so I got a casserole out of the freezer and put it in the oven. It should be ready in about an hour or so.”

He got a bottle of pop from the refrigerator and then sat down at the table with her.

“I talked to Pastor Farley while you were asleep. I’ve set Dad’s memorial service for Wednesday afternoon at 2:00 p.m. When they finally release his body, we’ll do a graveside burial without a need for ceremony.”

Lissa circled the table, sat down in his lap and kissed him.

“It’s a little daunting to know you’re in the world without another soul who shares your blood, isn’t it?”

He nuzzled a spot behind her ear and then hugged her, taking care not to squeeze too tight.

“It would be hell except for you. We
are
family, Melissa, even though the ceremony has yet to happen. We belong—you to me and me to you.”

“And the babies to come,” she added.

He was still smiling, but there were tears in his voice when he said, “Yes...and the babies to come.”

* * *

The next morning dawned damp and cold, and they were both trying to find comfortable clothes for the day. Mack was digging through the clothes he’d brought with him from home, looking for something to wear that would still be comfortable on his shoulder and arm, when he realized tomorrow was the memorial service and everything he needed was at his house in Summerton.

“Well, hell,” he muttered, as he shoved a dresser drawer shut.

Lissa had on a pair of jeans and a sweater, and was looking for a clean pair of socks to wear with her boots, when she heard him slam the drawer shut with a curse.

“What’s wrong?”

“Tomorrow is the memorial service, and the clothes I need are back at my house in Summerton.”

“Oh, you’re right! Mine aren’t here, either, but at least my house is closer than yours. I don’t think Louis...er, Reece or...whoever...got to that part of my closet, although he did tear up a lot of stuff.”

Mack frowned. “We’ll go check at your house first, and if you can’t find anything you want, we can go shopping in Summerton.”

“I’m sure I can find something. My winter clothes were actually still packed away in another room, so he didn’t even get to them. I’ll be fine.” Then she eyed the frown on his face. “Are you up to driving that far? We could probably get someone to take us if—”

“No, of course I can do it,” he said. “Do you feel like riding that far?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Besides, I want to see your home.”

“Soon to be
our
home,” he said.

“Then, why the frown?” she asked, as she traced a finger down the line between his eyebrows.

“I dread the service. I have to drop the eulogy off at the church. Getting the right clothes together is one more thing. It’s not an issue. I just made it a roadblock when it didn’t need to be.”

Lissa slid her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against the middle of his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat always had the power to center her world, and today was no different.

“It will be okay because we’ll do it together, remember?”

He exhaled slowly as he pulled her close. “God, I am so grateful for you. I hope one day you realize how much I love you.”

She cupped his face. “You always were my hero, even before you saved my life.”

And just like that, all the tension he was feeling faded.

“So, my sweet lady, are you ready to go see your new home?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Lissa said. “But first I need shoes.”

She moved out of his arms to finish dressing, leaving him with a slight, but heartfelt, smile on his face.

A short while later they pulled into her driveway.

Lissa shivered. “I haven’t been back since the...”

Mack frowned. “That’s over, Lissa. Don’t let that part of your life color how you feel about the house you grew up in.”

“Right,” she said, and she got out with purpose in her step.

Mack thought he was following for moral support, but even so, the hair stood up on the back of his neck when he walked into the house. Bad things had gone down in here. This house needed people and laughter in it again to heal the energy.

“Oh, my teacher friends did such a great job,” Lissa said, as she went into the kitchen.

The last time she’d been here, Mack had been bloody and unconscious. She traced the caulking on the new window glass with a finger, then moved out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom with Mack right behind her.

“Here goes nothing,” she said, and walked in.

The chaos she’d seen the night of the attack might never have happened. The broken glass, the torn clothing, even the broken night-light that had been the last link to her childhood...all gone.

“Oh, wow,” she said softly, moving to the closet and turning on the light.

Her clothes were back on hangers, her shoes back on the rack.

She opened the drawers in the dresser at the far end of the closet and sighed at the sight of everything clean, folded and back in place.

“They put everything back together again.”

Mack walked up behind her and took her by the shoulders. “Good friends are worth their weight in gold, right, honey?”

“Yes, they are,” she said. “Now give me a few minutes to find something suitable and we’ll be out of here.”

Mack gave her a quick pat on the butt and then sat down on the side of the bed to watch. She flipped through the hangers for a couple of minutes before she zeroed in on one outfit, and promptly took it out of the closet and slipped it into a garment bag. Then she chose shoes to go with it.

“I’m ready,” she said just as Mack took everything out of her hands.

“You lead the way and lock the door behind us. I’ve got this.”

After dropping off the eulogy at the church, they were finally on their way to Summerton.

Lissa pulled the visor down to use the mirror on the back, looked at her reflection and groaned.

“Just look at me. Black eye, bruise over half my forehead and a busted lip. What on earth are people going to think?”

“That you won the fight?”

She grinned. “Really?”

Mack shook his head. “I am in so much trouble, aren’t I?”

“No. I like you. I won’t ever hurt you, I promise.”

He eyed the little blonde sitting beside him and burst into laughter. “Like I’m scared,” he drawled.

“Well, you’re not and we both know it, but I love you for not minding being seen with a girl with a smashed-up face.”

She flipped the visor back into place, smiled when he winked at her and settled in for the ride.

* * *

After Trey’s interrogation, Betsy Jakes had been feeling less scattered. Maybe it was turning her dream journal over to the police that made the difference, as if she’d given up the responsibility of trying to figure it out to someone else.

Trina’s breakup with Lee Daniels had also helped shift her focus. Trina’s heartache had turned on Betsy’s mother mode. She was still having nightmares, but now she was able to let go of them more easily on waking.

Still, she couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she’d lost a limb and was just pretending she still walked and talked like everyone else, knowing any minute they would see her for the fake she was. And when the reveal finally happened, which she knew was inevitable, she would never get back up again. She’d even come to terms with the fear of dying. After all, Connie had been dead for years. The rest of them had gotten a free pass from that wreck. Despite how this was playing out, maybe it was just God’s way of putting out that final call.

* * *

The killer was on a mission, reconnoitering. Everything he’d been working toward was almost finished. Only one more to get rid of and he would be home free, with no one the wiser.

According to today’s paper, Paul Jackson’s memorial service was going to be held tomorrow afternoon. Everyone in town would be there, including him. He couldn’t afford to be visibly absent, but he intended to take advantage of everyone being out of place when it was over. It would take a bit of luck, a little finesse and a good aim, but he’d always managed to land on his feet in life and expected nothing less now.

He was almost at the Jakeses’ place now. All he needed was to remind himself of the layout and see if his plan would hold water; if not, he would take care of things somewhere else.

He could see the mailbox in the distance, and of all things, there was Betsy herself getting the mail. If only he’d brought his weapon, everything would be over. But he hadn’t, and maybe there was a reason. As he neared the mailbox she turned and disappeared. That was when he realized how dense that stand of trees was on the north side of the drive. It might be a good place to hide out until he could get inside.

As he drew closer he saw a small blue metal sign fastened to her mailbox post. A security company! Hell, her house was probably wired to the hilt, which entailed a change of plans. He would not be taking her out inside her own home. Then he saw her about twenty yards down the drive and, on a whim, honked and waved. When she turned and waved back, he took it as a sign.

She thought she’d just said hello, but he knew it was goodbye.

* * *

The closer Mack got to Summerton, the more anxious he became. Lissa had been asleep for half an hour, but he was going to wake her up because they would drive right past his lumberyard and he wanted her to see his name on it. He was proud of what he’d accomplished. He wanted her to see his business and his neighborhood and the street where he lived. He wanted Lissa to love his home as much as he did. He wanted her to walk in and feel like she’d lived there forever. He hoped he wasn’t wanting too much.

As soon as he reached the city limits, he reached over and touched her arm. “Lissa, honey? We’re here. We’re in Summerton.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and then she raised her seat back to a sitting position, and began fluffing at her hair and looking around.

“I’m ashamed to say I haven’t been here once since I moved home, although I didn’t really have a need.”

“Well, you’re here now, and I wanted to show you something as we pass.”

She smiled. “Okay. What should I look for?”

He pointed up at a huge warehouse-style building spread out over the entire block, and then to the name over the wide porch at the front door.