Seeing Red (25 page)

“Your mother?”

“No. No, she couldn’t have been.”

“She’s covering for something.”

“Someone.” Summer dropped her head to his chest and drew a shuddery breath. “I think she’s covering for someone.”

“Tina?” Joe asked.

“Well, look at my timing,” Tina said, and came into the room. “Chloe called your mom, darling, but she’s not home, so you get me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. There’s a jackknifed semi on I-5.” She looked from Joe’s face to Summer’s, then back to Joe’s. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“We’re talking about the first warehouse fire,” Joe said.

Tina’s smile faded. “Oh.”

“Someone else was at the fire that day,” Summer said.

“Are you sure?” Tina’s face was all concern as she hugged a clearly shaken Summer. “Darling, are you sure? Or are you wishful thinking?”

“There’s nothing wishful about it. Someone else was there.” Summer stared at Joe as the implications sank in. She was now a witness to a crime. To a possible murder. “Do you believe me?”

He looked into her eyes. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“How about a hot bubble bath?” Tina asked. “That’ll soothe your mind enough to help you sleep later, at least.”

She nodded, and let Tina lead her out toward the hallway.

Joe knew she’d want to be alone.
And wasn’t that half the problem.
He had no choice but to watch her walk away, and he had to wonder, when the hell would he get used to it?

They spent long hours working on the accounting discrepancies, not an easy process. Summer, Camille, and Tina started by figuring out which dates had cash missing from the deposit. This in itself was a huge chore, as the original deposit slips had not been kept with the daily records, but in a filing cabinet. Actually they’d been literally thrown into the bottom drawer and never looked at again. All the hundreds and hundreds of little white strips were in there like a tossed salad.

Summer had taken the job of pulling them out and putting them in order to compare with the bank statements. After that, she’d go back and figure out who had been working on each day, who had closed, and who had gone to the bank with the day’s deposit. She didn’t know what she’d find, but she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

At the moment, Summer and Camille sat on the floor of the back office, alone. Tina had gone to pick up lunch. Chloe was working the front of the store with the twins. Summer was doing her best not to think about Joe. “This is shocking,” she said flipping through receipts that dated back fifteen years. “You’re both such smart, modern women. How did you get so completely record challenged? I mean,
fifteen
years, Mom.”

“I know it looks bad, but the truth is, once a year we bring our accountant the general ledger from the computer printouts. He’s never asked for paper backup. We never needed these little slips, you’re lucky we even kept them.”

“We could call the accountant for help now.”

“Sure, but he’d cost a fortune, not to mention think we were the biggest idiots in town.”

Summer’s stomach rolled as she listened to her mother’s reasoning. Was embarrassment the real issue here, or was there something else?

God, she hated this doubt, this never-ending fear.

Camille was sitting on the floor. “What I don’t get is why you haven’t run screaming for the hills.” She wore a peasant blouse and a full denim skirt that was splayed around her, and four beaded bracelets up her right arm that jingled together with her every movement. “I’m beginning to think you’re enjoying yourself here.”

Summer looked into Camille’s smiling but baffled expression. “I am, actually.”

“You weren’t at first.”

“I know, but that was my fault. I kept you all at a distance. I’m good at that.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t think it’s a what.” Summer set down a fistful of deposit slips. “I think it’s a who.”

“Joe?”

Summer held her suddenly butterfly-ridden stomach. “Yes,” she said in a hushed whisper as if giving away a soul-deep secret. It felt like one.

“Oh, honey. He’s just what I would have wanted for you. Caring and compassionate, strong and kind. Like you.”

Summer was so stunned that for a moment she couldn’t speak. “You think I’m all those things?”

“I know it. Your dad used to say it all the time.”

“Mom.” Summer shook her head. “How come we never talk about him?”

Camille closed her eyes. “Too painful.”

“It’d be less painful to let it out. I want to let it out. I’ve been thinking about everything for so long now: Dad, life, love. How to make the motions of going through it all.”

“Having any luck?”

“No, and I’m going to lose Joe forever if I don’t figure this out.”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s a matter of getting past the fear.”

Summer laughed. “You have a book for that?”

Her mom remained serious. “Maybe you just do it. Maybe you just leap. Without looking.”

“That sounds painful.”

“Not as painful as
not
living,” Camille said. “Right?”

Just when Summer thought her mom not quite in touch, she went ahead and said something so profound it set everything in its place.

“Of course,” her mom added. “It’s one thing to say leap. Another entirely to do it.”

There came a soft knock on the door. They looked up to see Kenny standing in jeans and a polo shirt, looking tall and extremely GQish. No clipboard in sight. “Hi,” he said, eyes on Camille. “Busy?”

“Uh, yes, actually,” Camille said.

“No.” Summer snagged the towering stack of deposit slips from in front of her mom and gathered them into her own pile.

Camille snatched them back.

“Mom.” Summer leaned in and whispered, “Do it.
Leap.
”

Camille stared at her, then bit her lip as she tipped her head to Kenny. “I guess maybe I’m suddenly not so busy after all.”

Kenny crouched next to her. “I’m off today. Thought maybe we could go have lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Sure, you remember, where we sit across from each other over food and talk. Smile. Even laugh.”

Camille stared at him in indecision.

Kenny just waited with that endless patience of his.

“This is such a bad idea,” Camille finally said. “It’ll just lead to one thing or another…” She broke off, leaving Summer to wonder what exactly those “things” were, and had her mother and Kenny already done them?

Oh boy. Summer began to get up but Camille put her hand on Summer’s arm. “I thought we agreed not to see each other anymore.”

“No,” Kenny said. “We agreed to let you think about it. Me, I’m done thinking. I want to see you after this investigation, no matter the outcome. I want to see you a lot.”

“When I’m sixty, you’re going to be fifty-three.”

“And when I’m one hundred you’re going to be one hundred and seven. Looks like we both know our math.”

“Oh my God.” Camille looked at Summer, just a little scared and a lot lost.

Leap,
Summer mouthed.

Camille looked disconcerted at having her own advice flung back at her. “You should go out with a woman who will marry you and give you children,” she said to Kenny.

“Camille,” he answered with a low laugh. “I’m looking for a sandwich and some conversation. Not a white dress and a white cake and a new set of china.”

Camille hesitated. “Well, I guess under those conditions, I could use a little nutrition.”

He stood and held out his hand for hers.

“Hang on a minute.” Camille pulled Summer aside. “Thanks for lending me some of your endless courage.”

Courage?
Is that what her mother thought she had?

“You’re so full of life.” Camille smiled, even as her eyes went misty. “So like your dad.”

Summer’s heart filled. “Mom.”

“It’s true. He’d never have done as I did, shutting myself off. Especially not from you. Promise you won’t take after me and shut yourself off,” Camille whispered fiercely.

Summer leaned in and kissed her mom, on first one cheek, and then the other. “I love you.”

Camille gathered Summer in for a powerful hug, then pulled back, cupping her daughter’s face. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Yes. Now go take your leap.”

When Camille and Kenny left, Summer looked around at the messy room. Now it was her turn to leap. Without looking. Without a safety net. Without a damn thing but her so-called courage.

That night, Summer went to her cottage instead of to Chloe’s. She needed some clothes, and some alone time. It was dark and quiet, and feeling mentally and physically exhausted, she lay down on the couch and closed her eyes, telling herself she just needed a moment.

She woke up in the middle of the night to her cell beeping, signifying a new text message.

In the ensuing silence, her stomach clenched. It was never good to get a message in the middle of the night. It meant someone was hurt, sick, or dead.

Or it was Chloe, wondering where the hell she was.

She reached for the cell phone on the coffee table, retrieving the message with shaking fingers.

H
er heart pumped hard as Summer punched in Joe’s number.

“Walker,” he said, bringing her out of her mindless panic like no one else’s ever had.

He sounded sleepy. He sounded…warm and rumpled, and damn, she’d missed him. She’d missed him so much. “It’s just me.”

“A bad dream?”

She didn’t question how he knew something was wrong, it was the middle of the night. But even if it hadn’t been, he’d have known because he’d pretty much always been that tuned in to her. “I have a problem.”

“Define problem.”

No longer sounding sleepy, he spoke in his fire marshal–calm, alert voice. She knew his eyes would be flat and unreadable. “I received a new text message.” She read it to him.

“Where are you?”

Damn, she’d known he’d ask. “Don’t get mad.”

“Red—”

“I’m at the cottage.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, no. Don’t drive. I’m sorry, I didn’t think—I should have called Kenny. I just got spooked. Anyway, it can wait until morning—”

“Red.”

She gulped in a breath. “Yeah?”

“Lock your doors.”

“I did.”

“Keep your blinds shut.”

Oh, God. “They are.”

“Keep breathing, I’m already in my car.”

“But you shouldn’t drive.”

“Too late.”

“You have a clutch.”

“Yeah.” His voice was tight now, probably with pain. “I’ll be fine.” Indeed she could hear the engine roar to life. She realized she was rubbing her chest where it had pulled tight like a fist. “I’m sure I’m just fine,” she said.

“I’m sure you are, too, though we’re going to talk about why you’re there alone.” There was a slight edge to his fire marshal cool now. Temper, though not aimed at her. Okay, maybe some aimed at her.

“Where are you with the books?” he asked.

He was trying to keep her calm. Distracted. “Not far enough. I brought the stuff with me.”

“How long until you have a list of everyone who made a deposit with missing cash?”

“Maybe never,” she admitted. “I’m discovering that there’s often no way to tell who made what deposit, and on the days everyone was at work…”

“You can’t even guess.”

“No. Because
everyone
goes to the bank, it just depends on who feels like it.”

He was silent a long moment. Thinking. God knew about what.

She voiced her fear. “I’m thinking I’m hitting a nerve with someone.”

“You certainly have a knack for it, Were you sleeping when the call came in tonight?”

“Dreaming,” she said. “Joe—”

“Yeah?”

I missed you. I miss you so damn much.
“Nothing.”

“Jesus, Red. Just say what you’re thinking. It can’t be
that
hard to level with me.”

It never had been, but now there were new and fairly terrifying feelings on the line, and she hadn’t exactly dealt with them.

“Let me cut you a break since I figure you could use one,” he said quietly. “I miss you. Is that anywhere in the ballpark of what you wanted to say?”

“You always could read my mind,” she said shakily.

“I miss your smile,” he said quietly. “I miss your laugh. I miss the way you make me laugh. I miss you teasing me, making sure I don’t take myself too seriously. And I miss having you touch me at night. I really miss that.”

“You have all the words,” she whispered, her throat tight. “I don’t know how you come up with such things.”

“Just open your mouth and let it roll out.”

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“You could have called the police. You could have called Kenny. Or anyone. But you called me. There’s a reason for that, Red.”

“I wanted you.” The words were on her tongue and out her mouth before she realized it. “I got scared and you were the only person I wanted. I miss you too. Thanks for doing this, coming out here in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t thank me, I haven’t yelled at you for being alone yet. There’s a bunch of no-parking signs posted on your street.”

“They’re going to repave or something.”

“I’m walking in from around the corner. Or hopping rather.”

She hurried to let him in from the night. He wore a black T-shirt draped over his gun and faded soft Levi’s that were molded to his long, tough form, hunched slightly these days as he used the crutches to walk. There was a Lakers cap on his head and a deceptively relaxed air to him as he moved toward her.

He held out his hand. She put the cell phone in it. Wordlessly he shifted gears and looked at the display. His jaw was scruffy, unshaven, and she stared at it while he read the text message. She remembered all the nights he’d rubbed that sexy stubble against her body, remembering the things he’d said to her, done to her, the way he’d made her feel. “I really did miss you,” she whispered softly.

He looked at her for a beat. “I’m going to call this in.” He hobbled into the kitchen, murmured into the phone for a few minutes, then hung up and faced her. “We’ll go to the station in the morning to make a report. Do you have the accounting stuff you’ve been working through?”

“On the table.”

“Let’s look.”

“It’s two in the morning.”

“Let’s look,” he repeated stubbornly.

They spent an hour at it, Summer showing him how she’d put the deposit slips in date order, and had painstakingly matched each to the bank statements. They typically made a deposit every day, sometimes every other. In the past twelve months, cash had gone missing out of approximately one deposit a week, the amounts varying from three hundred and fifty dollars to two thousand dollars, for a total of thirty-six thousand four hundred dollars.

Just for the past year.

“Multiply that by all the years they’ve been in business…” Joe let out a low whistle. “Someone’s been getting a nice bonus. Let me see the employee schedule.”

She handed it over, but that was a problem too. There wasn’t, and never had been, a regular schedule. Tina and Camille kept it in their head, changing plans on a whim to accommodate all of them. And even if a schedule had been kept, it couldn’t be relied on because of how often it would have been adjusted at the last minute. So they went through the payroll records, through each individual time sheet, and began a new list, writing down the employees that had worked each day there’d been cash missing. It took a few hours, and when they were done, they had a new problem.

“Not a single person worked each of these dates,” Summer said.

“Except…” Joe looked at her, his face impassive. His fire marshal expression.

“My mother and Tina.” She picked up the phone and dialed her mom, then listened to the phone ring and ring. “It’s five in the morning, and she’s not home. She’s probably having another hot tub episode.”

“Hot tub episode?”

“Yeah, her and Tina—Never mind.” She dialed her aunt’s place and got a sleepy sounding Bill.

“I’m sorry,” Summer said. “I know it’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. But these accounting books have been calling my name all night. Are my mom and your wife boozing in the hot tub again?”

“No, sorry, Camille’s not here.”

Summer had forgotten. Her mother had taken the leap. “How about Tina? Can I talk to her?”

“What’s up, Cookie? Because I hate to wake her. She’s been having such trouble sleeping.”

“I know.” Summer chewed on her thumbnail. “Listen, I wish I already knew this because it makes me sound like a horrible niece and daughter for having to ask, but…”

“What?”

“Neither of them are in financial trouble, are they?”

Bill laughed. “Those two penny-pinchers? Are you kidding?”

When Summer didn’t laugh, he got serious. “Okay, what’s the matter? What did you find?”

“Nothing concrete,” she said, suddenly deciding this would be better done in person. “Tell Tina I’ll meet her at the store in a few hours.” She clicked off and sighed.

Joe was still sifting through the papers. “Let’s keep going.”

Half an hour later, with the sun coming up, Summer’s cell beeped. Startled, she stared at Joe for a long breath, then looked at the message.

Joe stared down at the digital display. “How spooked are you?”

“Uh…” On a scale of one to ten, make that a twelve, please. “Not too much.”

“Truth.”

“Truth?” She dropped her head to the table with a thunk. “I think my mother is covering for Tina. I think Tina is covering for my mother. And that it could be either one of them is making me want to throw up.”

He put his hand on her back and stroked. “Your polite but terrifying stalker is trying to scare you out of here because you know something.”

“I don’t remember any more than what I’ve said.”

“They’re not sure of that.”

“I’m not afraid of anyone here.” She wasn’t. Her terror was bigger than that. Such as the reality of seeing someone she cared about go to prison. “Much.”

Joe sighed, then gathered her close. “Do you want me to stay?”

Being held by him was like coming home again. Shockingly good, shockingly right. “Yes, but it has nothing to do with being scared.” She pressed her face to his throat and inhaled his scent.

“Red.” This was a low groan. He let out another when she licked him. “Don’t.” His arms tightened on her in direct opposition to his words. “God, don’t. I can’t resist you. It’s like every bad diet out there, I’m good for a day or two and then I have this terrible, clawing craving that I can’t escape from.”

“So let’s satisfy the craving.”

“I can’t do this, Red. I can’t make love to you and then get out of your bed and go home to my cold one. I hate connecting with you like I do, and then waking alone.”

“Then don’t go home. Wake up here, with me.”

He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head back so he could see her face. His eyes were dark, his body tense.

“Don’t go home tonight,” she said again. “This morning. Whatever it is. Stay with me.”

He cupped her jaw, ran his thumb over her lower lip. “Why?”

Leap.
If her mother had done it, she sure as hell could at least try. “Maybe I want to try it on for size.”

“Try what?”

“You.” She smiled shakily. “Look, probably you’ve already realized, I’m a little slow at this stuff.”

“No,” he said wryly. “Really?”

She rolled her eyes. “I want you to be happy. I want to be the one to make you happy, but I have to go at my own pace, I just do. I can’t speed that up, Joe. Not even for you.”

He closed his eyes, then opened them again, and they were filled with things that caught her breath. He grabbed a crutch and stood up, reaching for her. “A bed this time,” he said. “Your bed.”

“Yes.” Turning, she put her shoulder beneath his, acting as his crutch for that side, and led him to her bedroom. The sky had just barely begun to change, lighten. A new day.

Sunbeams slanted in through the shades, creating bands of light over her bed and the soft sheets and blanket there. He sat on them and drew her between his legs. “I like your pj’s.”

They consisted of an oversized white T-shirt and boxers. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged his face to her middle, rubbing his jaw against her belly in a sweet, loving gesture that had her throat tightening.

She tossed his cap aside and sank her fingers into his hair. He took his hands on a leisurely cruise down her spine, over the backs of her thighs, then her calves. Given how hot and explosive their past encounters had all been, she’d have expected him to dive in. Wanted him to dive in.

He didn’t. He kept nuzzling her belly button, slowly bunching up her shirt until he could stick his tongue in her belly ring, then pressed a kiss to the curve of the abdomen she could never get quite flat, making her squirm.

He looked up. “What?”

“Maybe you could concentrate on a more flattering spot.”

“Are you kidding me?” He palmed her belly, his fingers just barely dipping beneath the elastic of the boxers. “I love this spot. It’s one of my favorites.” He pushed her shirt up further, exposing her breasts, which hardened just because he looked at them. “Here are two of my other favorites.” Leaning forward, he put his mouth on one nipple and his fingers on the other, tugging lightly.

She felt her eyes roll back. Then her T-shirt vanished over her head and sailed across the room. Joe kissed his way over to her other breast, his fingers hooking into the elastic banding of her boxers. “I do have a couple of other favorite spots,” he murmured, and tugged. “Want to guess where?”

Her body was both humming and throbbing. She couldn’t talk. She was halfway to orgasmic bliss from nothing more than his mouth and fingers stripping her naked.

“Mmmm,” he murmured, dipping his fingers between her thighs. She was already wet. “Here’s one.”

She managed to pull at his shirt. “Lose this.”

For a guy who was handicapped, he stripped down to his birthday suit so fast she got dizzy. Suddenly she was grateful for the bright slats of light because she loved looking at his amazing body. In fact, she could almost just look and be happy.

Almost.

She pushed him back on the bed and sat on him, bending low to brush kisses over his chest. With a groan, he tunneled his fingers into her hair and pulled her head to his for a long, hot, wet kiss that had her panting for more. Then in one fluid movement he rolled, tucking her beneath him. “There,” he said, and slid his hands up her arms, linking their fingers on either side of her head. “Now you won’t be able to rush me.”

“Rush you?”

“You have a tendency to race for the big bang.” He kissed her shoulder, her throat.

“I like the big bang.”

“You’ll get it.” He bit her jaw lightly. “Eventually.”

He wasn’t kidding. It took him forever. First he skimmed his hands over her, then replaced his fingers with his tongue, by which time she was writhing, begging, panting. He pulled her over the top of him, gripped her hips, and thrust into her with one stroke.

He held her like no other ever had, and when it was over, when she’d collapsed on his chest, gasping for air, sated and replete, he gathered her close and pressed his lips to her damp temple. They lay there for a long, relaxed moment.