Courting Death (8 page)

As I had predicted, the media went into a feeding frenzy once word leaked about the funeral home. Anchors vied for clever nicknames for its former director, with “The Bone Harvester” and “The Organ Grinder” prevailing. Reports detailed every legend, urban or otherwise, about the ancient tradition of body snatching.

The press learned about my involvement and descended upon the office in droves. A few reporters came to the house, and for once I counted Mom’s escape into oblivion a good thing. Fortunately, I had long removed the phone in her bedroom after she had made a long distance call to a perfect stranger in Great Britain and talked for over an hour. Now only the phone in the hallway remained connected. All media calls were directed to the firm.

Chaos reigned in the office, but Carling and Kate were high-fiving over all the free publicity when several people called looking for representation.

I kept waiting for another development on the Whitman case. The husband, Brian, called so frequently that I almost cringed when I heard he was on the line. Probably the same reaction Oceanview’s administrator and Dr. Hassenfeld had to my repeated calls for updates on the missing records.

However, the week passed without any contact from the police, the state attorney’s office…or Sam. I should have been relieved but instead the dead silence from his direction made me edgy. Only through the grapevine did I learn the ice cream truck driver had lawyered up immediately and wasn’t saying a word.

Late Friday I returned from a witness deposition on another case only to find the staff gathered at my office door. Catching the lead secretary’s eye, I asked, “Maria, what’s going on?”

She grinned. “You have flowers. We were trying to get up the nerve to open the card.”

“Flowers?” No wonder the staff was atwitter. With a year’s abstinence from the dating scene, I myself could only describe the excitement welling up inside me as giddiness. Everyone stepped aside so I could enter the room. My jaw dropped. A lavish bouquet of blood-red roses stood in a vase on my desk.

Only one name floated to the surface—Sam. My fingers trembled as I opened the envelope. But my excitement fled as I read the card.
Looking forward to spending time with you. Damian Quint.

I looked up at the expectant faces. “Sorry, ladies. They’re from a friend of a client.” I could almost see the collective drop of shoulders as they turned and went back to their stations. I flopped down in the chair, leaned my elbows on the desk, and braced my chin in my hands.

“Why the glum look?” Kate strolled into the office.

“I got flowers.”

“How perfectly dreadful,” she murmured as she stroked one of the blossoms. “Name the culprit and I’ll beat him up with one of the fronds.”

“They’re from the wrong guy.”

Understanding lit her face as she sank into one of the visitor chairs. “Not from Sam.”

“Nope.” I leaned back and propped my feet on the edge of the desk as I considered the truth of my disappointment.

“Still.” Kate cocked her head to gaze at me. “Someone thought enough of you to send you these. Is he good looking?”

I nodded. “Very. Damian Quint. He’s a friend of the Whitmans. Wants to buy me a drink.”

“That’s a very non-threatening first date. The problem is…”

“All I could think about when he asked was how much background information I could obtain on the Whitmans.”

Kate nodded. “Occupational hazard in the dating world.”

Grinning ear-to-ear, Carling rushed in carrying rolls of bright pink fabric. “I got the T-shirts.”

I blinked. “What T-shirts?”

She dumped two shirts into the remaining chair and unfurled one. Across the fuchsia-colored front, in bold black letters read Dent, Rochelle and Sterling. She flipped it around to the back to show off the tagline: The criminal attorneys who care.

“We’re going to stand out in the crowd tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I stared at the shirt. “Oh, the race.” At some point I had agreed to run with my partners in the West Palm Beach Police Race for Drug-Free Kids. Sam would be there—he was one of the officers who first organized the race several years ago.

“Look, I’m not sure I can—”

Carling held up her palm. “Hold it right there, Sterling. You promised. I know darn well you made arrangements with Sophie to be at your house. You’re not wiggling out of this commitment.”

“Besides.” Kate smoothed an imaginary wrinkle on her still perfectly pressed skirt. “Sam will be there and some little birdie might tell him you received flowers from another man.”

I gave my friends a long, slow smile. “There is that.”

Saturday morning found me with others milling on Flagler Drive by the Intracoastal Waterway. Even as the sun’s morning fingers of pink released their grip on the blue sky, I knew it was going to be a perfect day for running. With fifteen minutes until the race, I ran through my warm-up stretching routine. Kate and her fiancé, the firm’s investigator Gabe Chavez, had gone after bottles of water for our group.

Beside me Carling sat on the ground and grumbled. “I don’t know why I thought this was such a bright idea. I should be in bed sleeping and enjoying my Saturday.”

I grinned down at her. “It’s for a good cause, and one early morning run won’t kill you. You might even like it.” Over the past year running had been my salvation. While I never could outrun my problems, for a blessed period every day I could forget about them.

Carling wore a pained expression. “Never. Have you ever seen anyone who smiles while they run? It’s called masochism.”

She tied her running shoe and re-directed the conversation. She excelled at such maneuvers.

“You also forget.”

“Forget what?”

“This run is twice as long for me than you.”

Astounded, I stopped stretching. “It’s a five mile run. Last time I checked, we were all running the same route.”

Carling smirked.

“Your legs are twice as long as mine. That means for every step you take, I have to take two.”

Laughing, I reached out to help her up. “Only your warped mind would think of something as ridiculous as that at seven forty-five on a Saturday morning.”

Carling calmly accepted the assist. “It’s not ridiculous. Think about it.”

“I’m glad to see the two prettiest women here can think, laugh and run all at the same time.”

I stilled at the gruff voice. My heart pounding, I pivoted, forcing a bright smile. “Good morning, Detective.”

Carling hurled by me, flinging her arms around his neck. “Save me, save me, Sam, from this fiend. She and Kate coerced me into running.” She moaned tragically and burrowed her head against his shoulder.

I fought back a tinge of jealousy at my friend’s easy physical contact with Sam. I flushed as his gleaming eyes stared at me over Carling’s head and then slowly traveled up and down my body. Although I wore a zip-up sweatshirt over the firm’s T-shirt to guard against the November chill, my leggings, while practical for running, fit like a glove.

He righted Carling and then affectionately fluffed her black cap of hair. “I like the firm’s logo on the shirts.”

She tilted her face for his kiss on her cheek. “My idea of course.”

Sam cocked a brow at me. “Didn’t think the warm and fuzzy motto would be your partner’s idea.”

“Smart ass.” Carling released him. “Are you running today?”

He slowly shook his head. “No, I got stuck coordinating the damn thing again this year so I’m relegated to the sidelines.”

It was time to insert myself into the conversation. It was either talk or become hypnotized by the sight of Sam in his white regulation T-shirt and black jogging shorts. The man was all bronzed muscular arms and long, sinewy legs. His powerful chest tapered down to a narrow waist and hips. In the crowd of male participants, Sam was the essence of virility. He wore his prized Florida Gators cap tipped back on his head.

“Bull. The drug prevention program has always been your baby. You probably stood first in line with your hand raised for this race.”

The crevices lining the sides of his mouth deepened into a sheepish grin. “You’ve got me there, Red.”

Carling’s cell rang. She glanced at the display. “It’s Jared. He’s preparing a big trial for Monday. Hey, honey, how’s it going?”

Sam raised his voice. “Tell him to get his sorry ass over here.”

She held out the phone, and Jared’s sonorous voice succinctly told Sam what he could do with himself. Carling grinned, put the phone to her ear and turned away. I still couldn’t get used to my sharp-tongue friend practically cooing whenever she spoke to her boyfriend.

From the staging area I spotted Kate and Gabe, carrying bottles of water, pause and grab a lingering kiss. A sharp tinge squeezed my heart.

I was happy for the two women who had been my closest friends since law school, but at times I missed the close comradery we’d once shared. After all, we first hatched the idea of running a law firm together over dinner at the pub across from campus, although then we’d sarcastically dubbed it Debt, Default and Miscarriage Law Firm.

Now we were Dent, Rochelle and Sterling, P.A. We’d come a long way, but our paths were now branching out in different directions. That’s what grown women did, and yet I sensed I was the one getting left behind, at times in a cloud of dust.

A shadow fell over me and I realized with a start that Sam was so close his breath feathered my face. “What’s this about you getting flowers from a strange man?”

My partners hadn’t wasted any time. I kept an innocent look on my face. “A friend of a client sent them.”

Wasn’t it wonderful how one could hide behind the truth and make it sound like a lie?

“Two dozen roses don’t sound like a ‘thank you’ to me. More like a hit on.” He leaned even closer. “Do I know him?”

I slapped a hand across his chest. “Don’t pull that intimidating stance with me, Bowie. I’m not going to tell you his name.”

Sam placed one hand over mine, imprisoning it. He circled his other around my waist and drew my body against his. “Then how about a good luck kiss before the race, Red? If you make it soft, long and juicy, I may even give you my lucky hat so you’ll win.”

I relaxed against him, splaying my free hand up high across his chest for balance. “Is that right, big guy?” I ran my tongue over my top lip.

Desire darkened his eyes. With a stifled groan, he lowered his head. In one quick move I snatched his cap, broke free and danced out of his reach. As I flashed him a victorious grin, I slipped the cap on.

Sam fitted his hands to his hips and watched me. “I’ve never knew you to be a tease.”

I hadn’t either and the fun of being one was delicious.

“You owe me a kiss, Red, and trust me, when I collect, I’ll pick a time when we’re not in public.” His slow smile was dark and wicked with a promise.

I halted my celebratory jig.

“I have to go start a race. I’ll be watching for those long legs of yours and imagining them wrapped around my waist.”

As every erogenous zone in my body quivered to life, he turned. I breathed a huge sigh of relief intermingled with regret. I’d been so positive that it had been for the best to break up with him. But best for whom? My need for him was just as sharp and strong as ever, and he still wanted me too.

Watching his taut backside disappear into the throng of racers, I belatedly realized Carling had returned and was studying me. “What, Carling, what?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think you’re nuts, that’s all.”

I lifted my eyes in supplication to the sky. “Why?”

“For letting Sam get away from you.”

I didn’t like being pinned by the truth and resentment welled up. “I had my reasons and he didn’t particularly try to hang on.”

Mentally I seized on that point. Sam hadn’t fought for me or our relationship. He’d walked away.

Carling snorted. “Only after you dusted him off.”

My mouth tightened. “He was only too willing to be dusted off.”

Shooting me a look of disbelief, she adjusted the number on her shirt. “Come on, let’s join Kate and Gabe. It’s almost starting time.”

We took our positions together. Through the crowd, I zeroed in on Sam at the front, raising the starter pistol above his head. At its sharp report, the pack surged forward.

Carling shouted at me, “Just because a man walks, Nicole, doesn’t mean you can’t get him back again.”

My friend was infamous for getting the last word. She also sure knew how to sprint out of harm’s way.

After the race we gathered together. Gabe and Kate suggested going to a bar on Clematis Street for a beer and a quick bite to eat. Carling called Jared and he agreed to meet us. The buzz from the race continued for me so when Sam approached our group, I planted a hand over the top of my head.

“You can’t have your cap back until you have a beer with us.”

At that moment my cell rang. I unclipped it from my waist and saw the display number. Like a rattlesnake, tension struck and my relaxed mood fled. “What is it, Sophie?”

“Your mother. I left her only for a minute and when I returned she was moaning and rocking back and forth. When I tried to ask what was wrong, she starting screaming.” In the background I could hear Mom’s wails. The insane sound drove tremors through me.

“I can’t get her to calm down.”

“I’ll be home shortly. Just don’t let her out of the house.”

I disconnected and gave everyone an apologetic smile. How many more times in my life would I have to make excuses for my mother?

“Sorry, guys, but I need to go home. Something’s come up with Mom.”

“Do you need help?” Kate asked, concern filling her blue eyes.

I needed all the help I could get, but how could I impose on friends? I had to shoulder this myself. I forced a smile and shook my head. “You all go have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I removed the cap and handed it over to Sam. “Good job with the race. I hope you raised a lot of money.”

I turned and walked away. Trying to maneuver through the crowd only upped my tension. Long minutes passed before I could get to my rental. By this time of the day, traffic packed I-95 so I did breathing exercises as I inched my way home. Finally I pulled into the drive. As I got out, two black pickup trucks parked on the street.