Gotcha! (12 page)

Billy paced the trailer living room. Where was Ellie? It had been over an hour since he’d arrived, and she still wasn’t back.

Lights flashed across the blinds, and he bolted to the window. Ellie got out of Andy’s car before it drove off. Billy met her at the door. She ran to him. Furious, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Where the hell have you been?” When he heard her hiccupping breath, he regretted his tone. “I was worried.” He pulled back so he could look at her. “What happened?”

“Fred died.” Tears filled her eyes.

“Who?” Billy thought about the man with his throat slashed.

“My patient. Remember the one I told you sneaked into Mrs. Kelly’s room?”

Billy recalled Ellie talking about the two old lovebirds. “What happened?”

“A stroke.” She buried her face back in his chest.

“How did you find out?”

“Nancy, the other nurse’s aide, called me. She knew how close we were. He died an hour after I arrived.”

“Damn it, Ellie! I told you not to use your phone.”

She stiffened. “I just checked my messages. I used Andy’s phone to call”

“Don’t even check your messages. They could trace it.”

She walked over to the sofa and dropped down on it. “Don’t be mad. I’m hurting too much—”

“I’m not mad,” he interrupted. “I just…don’t want you getting into trouble.” He sat down beside her. She leaned against him. Her soft weight felt good.

“I feel so bad for Mrs. Kelly. They loved each other. She stayed with me by his bed and held his hand. She called him the love of her life and kept saying it was unfair that she had only met him in the last year. It was so sad.”

“I know,” he whispered into her hair, holding her. Neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t a bad silence. Just two people holding on to each other.

“I’m scared,” she finally said. “I think we should leave. Get in the van and just go.”

Billy shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got to make sure Mace is okay.”

Ellie glanced up. “Did you call that cop like you said?”

“Yeah. But I don’t know if he’ll protect her. I’ve got to find Tanks.”

“But, how’s talking going to change things? I don’t see him promising you anything, and even if he did, that doesn’t mean he’ll keep his word.”

“I’ll make him understand,” Billy said. He didn’t want to talk about Tanks. Even exhausted, his body knew what it wanted. It wanted Ellie. “Where did Andy go, anyway?”

“He’s going to stay with a friend. I think…I think he thought we’d like to be alone.”

“Do we?” Billy asked.

She smiled and some of the worry left her eyes. “I do if you do.”

Billy’s gaze shifted around. Thanks to Ellie’s work, it didn’t seem like such a terrible place anymore. He felt her soft breasts against his arm and his body responded.

“I asked Andy why he was helping us. He said that he heard a preacher on television say that the next person you don’t offer to help, they might be Jesus.”

“He thinks I’m Jesus?” Billy laughed and then sighed as Ellie shifted to sit in his lap.

“No. But he said he needed to help others so he’d be a better person.”

“Why does he think he needs to be better?” Billy asked. But maybe he understood. Both Andy’s parents had left, and for years Billy had blamed himself for his dad leaving. Maybe Andy was trying to make up for whatever he believed he’d done wrong.

“I don’t know,” Ellie said. “But he’s a good kid. He wouldn’t even let me put gas in his car for taking me to the nursing home.”

Billy gazed into his girlfriend’s pale green eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he said. And the soft weight of her bottom against his crotch was delicious.

Her smile widened. “I love you, Billy. Just like Mrs. Kelly loved Fred. I’ll love you forever, and I’m glad I found you now instead of when we’re in an old-folks home.”

Billy’s gut clenched as he remembered that somehow, after he’d taken care of Tanks, he had to convince Ellie to stop loving him.

She leaned in and kissed him. Was it wrong of him to take tonight, when tomorrow…? Her tongue entered his mouth, and suddenly wrong and right didn’t seem so important. He kissed her the way he’d dreamed of doing it for five months. His hand shook a little as he slid his palm up under her light-blue T-shirt to cup her breast.

“You feel good,” he mumbled, rubbing his fingers over her bra, feeling her nipples harden. He didn’t have a lot of experience with women, but he knew enough to know that they liked to take this sort of thing slow. He’d go as slow as Ellie wanted.

“So do you.” She shifted her bottom against him, then grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

Her bra was white with lots of lace. Her nipples pebbled against it. He ran his hand over one tight, satin-covered little bud, and then Ellie said words he’d been dying to hear.

“Love me, Billy. Help me forget what a crazy mess we’re in.”

At seven, Macy slapped her alarm silent. Sleep offered escape. She didn’t want to worry about Billy, about getting her head chopped off, about the guy stretched out on her sofa who thought she was entering the convent.
You won’t even know I’m here
, he’d said. As if.

Crappers! Turning over, she buried her face in her pillow and mumbled a few more unladylike words. She’d known he was there, all right. She’d lain in bed for over an hour, listening to hear Baldwin roll over, listening to see if he snored. She’d hoped he did. Big, ugly, honking snores. Anything to stop her from thinking about what it would be like to have his body next to hers.

For almost two years she’d gone without sex. Sure, every now and then her body would ask,
Hey, remember orgasms?
Her brain would answer,
Yeah, I remember. But the last one I experienced wasn’t mine. It was my husband’s secretary’s
. She still couldn’t believe she’d let them finish before interrupting. Then again, it hadn’t taken very long. Tom had never had staying power.

Generally, thinking about Tom and his secretary was enough to trot her hormones back to the ice age. Last night, her hormones had refused to take the hike.

Remembering she had to work in the church garden, she sat up. She hadn’t gotten her eyes all the way open when someone knocked on her bedroom door, and before she could say
Go away
, Baldwin walked into her bedroom carrying two steaming cups.

“Got you coffee,” he said.

She wanted to scold him for walking in, to refuse the caffeine fix, but it smelled as good as he looked. A frown twisted her lips.

“Somebody isn’t a morning person,” he said. He winked, then had the audacity to sit on the edge of her bed. “A little birdie told me you take it with cream and sugar.”

“What little birdie?” she asked. “Where is it? I’m pretty sure I still have Billy’s old BB gun and I could take it out.”

“You wouldn’t shoot your grandma, would you? She called.”

Jake handed over a coffee. The warm, scented steam rose. Macy curled her hands around the cup.

Jake drew his own cup to his lips, and his gaze, as steamy as the coffee, swept over her. “There goes my fantasy that you sleep in a red silk nightie.”

Macy tugged at the front of her cotton pajamas. “Would you mind getting out? I need to say my morning prayers. It’s what soon-to-be nuns do.” She didn’t think he’d have been so brave as to ask Nan about that.

The heat in his eyes faded. Which told her she was right. Now, if she could just do something about the heat in her belly. Why did he look so natural sitting on the edge of her bed? Oh yeah, she’d imagined him here last night. Imagined him crawling under the covers with her, without clothes, to touch places on her body that hadn’t been touched in—

“What are your plans today?” he asked. He sipped his coffee.

“I’m going to church,” she replied. Not a lie, either. The nun excuse wasn’t going to last long, of course—he was bound to wise up sooner or later. But she’d milk it as long as she could.

“And then what?”

Then I’ll find some other excuse to keep you at arm’s length.

“I usually go visit my mom and Nan at Yoga Works.” Seeing Baldwin’s pinched brow she explained, “Nan runs a yoga school.”

“Biker girl, spray-paint grandma? She does yoga, too?”

Macy shrugged. “Teaches it.” She wouldn’t tell him what else Nan did.

“You don’t go to school today?”

“Not on Thursdays.”

“Work?” His face wore an odd expression.

“Not until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, well, you should hold off going to work until Tanks is caught.” He arched an eyebrow as if knowing she’d challenge him.

She didn’t disappoint. “So, you’re paying my rent this month?” she asked. “That’s sweet of you.” She set her coffee down and laughed.

He frowned. “If it’ll keep you alive, yeah.”

Macy scootched off her mattress, shaking her head. “Actually, I can take care of myself.” She then headed for the bathroom, ignoring him as he called her name. She hoped this was one room he’d consider sacred.

Slamming the door behind her, she came to an instant, heels-on-the-linoleum halt. Her eyes alighted on the broad chest and then lowered to—She yelped at the same time as the naked man, and only then did she look up at his face. She scrambled out of the bathroom.

Baldwin stood in the hall. Seeing her horror, his blue eyes danced with humor.

“What’s your partner doing naked in my bathroom?” she shrieked.

Baldwin grinned. “I forgot to tell him the singing rule.”

Today Hal felt…not better, but clearheaded. He’d cut back on the pain medication, but thinking clearly came with a price. Now he
really
knew how it felt to be shot in the chest.

When the nurse popped in and announced it was time for a walk, he’d told her to go on without him, and if he changed his mind he would catch up. Obviously, she thought he was joking. Now, one hand around his IV stand, he shuffled through the gray hospital halls like an old man. At least his ass was covered, thanks to the pajamas Melissa had brought this morning.

Hal had just cut a corner when he heard a familiar voice from one of the hospital rooms with the door ajar. He listened. The volunteer? What was her name? Faye, wasn’t it?

“You’re welcome,” the woman was saying. “I’ll come by and see you later.”

Hal stopped walking, if you could call his shuffling a real walk. Was it her?

“You okay?” his nurse asked, looking harried.

“Yeah.” He didn’t move.

The door opened, and Faye almost ran him over on her way out. She bumped his IV pole and sent the dang thing rocking. As she caught it, her blue eyes found him.

Desire to suck in his gut rolled over Hal. He didn’t have a large one, but a man his age came with a toolshed. Funny thing was, he hadn’t thought about his toolshed—or his tool—in years. Ahh, but
she
made him think about it.

“We meet again.” Hal smiled. “At least I got my clothes on this time.”

Faye’s gaze darted to his nurse. “Hospital-gown problems,” she explained, blushing. Then she met Hal’s eyes. “You look better,” she offered, though she looked nervous.

“Because I’ve got clothes on?” he asked.

“Healthier.” She was probably in her early fifties, he realized, noticing the gray strands in her dark curly hair, but as her cheeks brightened, she reminded him of someone a lot younger.

The nurse looked back and forth between them. “Great, Faye. You two know each other? Could you finish walking Mr. Klein?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she made tracks down the hall.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” Hal glanced at Faye’s name tag to see if it had a last name. It didn’t.

The woman nodded. “So it seems.”

Hal held out his arm, even though a few minutes ago he’d told the nurse he could gimp better without her clinging to him. But the idea of touching Faye…

She looped her arm through his, and a warm tickle, the one a normal man gets when he touches a beautiful woman, washed over Hal. Thing was, Hal hadn’t felt normal in a long time.

“So”—he purposely kept his pace slow, but began to walk—“how long have you volunteered here?”

“Four years.” She kept her eye on the passing doors, as if she couldn’t wait to dump him in his room.

“You do anything else besides volunteer?” His hip brushed against hers. It felt good. He caught her fresh, clean scent, too. Not perfumed, but something familiar. Baby powder?

“I…work part-time at my mother’s yoga school.”

He looked at her, to make sure he wasn’t hitting on a woman way too young. But nope, there were definitely some signs of age around her eyes. “Your mother runs a yoga school?”

She stopped. “This is your room, isn’t it?”

He glanced at the door. “The nurse said I needed to do two laps,” he lied, and set off walking again. “It’s not often I get escorted by a pretty woman.”

When he saw her frown, Hal got a bad feeling. Shit, he hadn’t been in this business so long that he’d forgotten to consider she might be married. But when his gaze darted to her left hand, he saw no ring.

She fidgeted with something in her pocket. They took several steps in silence.

“I’m Harold Klein,” he said at last. “People call me Hal.” He hoped she’d tell him her own full name. He still got the strange feeling he’d met her before.

“Hal’s a nice name,” she said, but she didn’t look at him.

“Doing good, Mr. Klein!” one of the nurses called out, walking by.

He smiled at her, then focused on Faye again. “So, what do you do at the hospital?”

“Run errands, help with the food trays.” The woman still didn’t look at him.

“Walk old men around the halls,” he suggested.

She glanced up. “You’re not old.”

“I feel old right now.”
Or I did until you walked up.

“You’ll feel better in a few days.”

“I might if…you’ll come visit me.” It was a horrible come-on line, but Hal lacked practice. Not that he hadn’t whispered sweet nothings to his wife, but those had been different, not first-time nothings. “Will you? Come visit me again?” he asked.

Her eyes widened and she glanced away. “I’m pretty busy.”

He frowned, realizing he’d failed. “I guess I’m bad at this.”