Sooner or Later (19 page)

Within an hour he’d learned the whereabouts of the military compound and the commander’s name. News of the execution of four teenage boys was rampant. A day meant for joy had been tainted with grief.

As the two women who strolled past talked about the execution, Letty’s eyes met his. “They executed children?”

“So it seems.” Murphy stood and helped Letty to her feet. “Let’s mingle.”

As he edged the way outside of the town square, he found two well-armed soldiers advancing in his direction.

“Let’s dance,” he said, taking Letty’s hand firmly in his.

“Dance?”

It was close to evening, cooler. A row of Japanese lanterns was strung between trees, defining the area meant for dancing. Murphy turned Letty into his arms. He wasn’t exactly light on his feet, but he did a fair job of faking waltzlike steps.

It had been one thing to sit with Letty, but it was another to hold her in his arms. She moved against him as naturally as if they were long-standing partners.
Her warm breath tickled the base of his neck. The need to close his eyes and soak in her gentle softness was strong, but he resisted. Lordy, she tempted him.

He found her staring up at him, and her eyes smiled into his. They continued to sway to the music. What information they might have learned in those moments was lost on him. Murphy all but drowned in the depths of her eyes.

Unable to resist, he lowered his head and his mouth touched hers, tasting the softness of her lips, outlining their shape with the tip of his tongue. Letty moaned softly, and her arms crept about his neck.

“We have to find Luke,” she whispered huskily, and hid her face in his throat.

“We will,” he promised. He closed his eyes momentarily and breathed in the fresh, womanly scent of her. An educated guess told him the army held Luke Madden at the military compound with the other political prisoners. If the executions had already begun, there was no time to lose. He sincerely hoped, for Letty’s sake, that it wasn’t already too late.

Murphy wished he could protect her from what they might discover, but he could see no way. Her brother was all the family she had.

When the music ended, he led her off the dance floor. What they needed now was a vehicle. However, because of the festivities, the streets were barred from traffic. There didn’t appear to be a single car in sight.

His idea about blending in became increasingly difficult as the soldiers filtered into the crowd. They appeared to be on a quest, searching for someone.

“We have to get out of here,” Murphy whispered. “Come on.”

They hadn’t gone far before he instructed her to cover her head with the shawl. She readily complied.

Pretending an absorption with her, he managed to hide his face. Another pair of soldiers advanced toward them, and Murphy turned Letty into an alley.

“Kiss me,” he instructed.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Just do it, and pretend you’ve wanted nothing more for hours on end. Understand?”

She nodded. He had his back to the wall, and Letty slanted her mouth over his. She didn’t possess a lot of finesse, but to her credit, she gave it all she had.

With one eye open, Murphy watched as the soldiers walked past. He closed his eyes and took control of the kiss, deftly switching positions so that she was the one with her back against the wall.

His mouth was hard on hers. She whimpered softly and then parted her lips to admit his tongue. Her arms slid around his neck, and she was fully involved in the exchange.

Both were breathing hard and heavy before he ended the kiss.

“Are they gone?” she asked.

“They were gone a long time ago,” he whispered.

Letty muttered disparagingly under her breath, then asked, “Is everything a game to you?”

“No. I just wanted to see how much you wanted me. Now I know. You’re crazy for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. All I want is to find my brother and get the hell out of here.” She wrapped
the shawl around her shoulders as if it were a plate of armor, her dignity sagging and badly ruffled.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get Luke out,” Murphy said with a confidence he wasn’t feeling. He slipped her hand around his arm. Night was just beginning to settle in. The real celebrating would begin soon, and passage through the streets of San Paulo would become impossible. They’d best make their escape now while they could.

They’d gone a short ways when Letty stopped, staring. “Look,” she whispered, awed.

Murphy caught a glimpse of two men on stilts, dressed in outlandishly colorful outfits. Each carried a flaming baton, and at intervals they would stick the batons down their throats and then blow flames into the sky.

“I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“I did once in Rio during Mardi Gras.”

Suddenly her arm slipped from his. “What is it?” he asked.

“I think I see someone I know.”

Before he could stop her, she slipped into the crowd. Murphy attempted to follow her, but it was impossible.

“Letty,” he shouted, uncaring who heard him. “Stop.”

He skirted his way between, around, in and out, but it was useless. Within seconds he had lost her completely.

Marcie picked up her polished
pink bowling ball and enthusiastically approached the pins. She studied the shiny hardwood alley and stepped forward, swinging her arm back and then releasing the ball.

It rolled off her fingertips and coursed down the middle of the lane, zeroing in on the head pin. Then, at the last possible moment, just before the ball slammed into the pins, it veered sharply to the left, knocking down three out of the ten pins.

Her shoulders sagged with disappointment. She’d done everything exactly the way she should. The ball had zeroed in on the head pin, then had chosen a path of its own. All she’d managed to knock down were three lousy pins.

“It’s all right, honey,” Clifford called from behind her.

Marcie pushed down the sleeves of her thin knit sweater. The air-conditioning in the bowling alley had always been too cold for her.

“I was cheated,” she cried.

“You can get a spare.”

Clifford spoke with the utmost confidence. His smiling eyes reached out to her, and Marcie did her best to smile back, but it was difficult.

If her bowling was off, then she blamed Johnny…Jack Keller for that. Their meeting the night before had stunned her. He’d been so open, so sincere, so forthright. When she’d discovered that all this time she hadn’t even known his name, she’d been hurt and angry. Only later did she appreciate the risk he’d taken to set the record straight.

“You can do it,” Clifford called when the ball return spat out her pink ball. “Here.”

He joined her and, gripping her by the shoulders, gently eased her two shorts steps to the right. “You should be fine now.”

Marcie poised the ball in front of her and stared at the remaining pins, determined to pick them up. She wasn’t going to let a little thing like Jack’s proposition unsettle her from the really important matters in life, like bowling.

Smiling to herself, she started down the alley, putting some energy into her swing and delivery. This time when the ball left her fingertips it headed straight as a bullet down the right-hand side of the alley. The way it looked, she would leave the six middle pins standing.

Disappointed she turned around, not wanting to watch.

“That’s it, that’s it!” Clifford shouted. He waved his hand to the right as if that would influence the direction of the bowling ball.

Marcie turned around, and to her surprise she noticed that just as it’d happened before, the ball took another dramatic sweep to the left. Only this time it solidly hit the head pin. The remaining pins exploded as if they’d been hit by a blast of dynamite.

“I did it, I did it,” Marcie cried, jumping up and down as if she were on a pogo stick.

Clifford joined her, wrapped his burly arms around her waist, and lifted her over his head. “That’s my girl,” he said, grinning up at her, his face filled with pride and happiness.

Marcie returned to the bench as proud of this one small accomplishment as she was of anything she’d ever done. It was as simple as mind over matter.

Clifford walked up to the ball return and reached for his own bowling ball. The smile on Marcie’s face faded as she studied him. The plumber would never be poster boy-toy material, but he was gentle and charming.

Marcie knew how difficult it must be for him not to question her about what was happening between her and Jack. He’d asked about Jack only once, and then just to inquire if she’d be seeing him again. When Marcie had admitted that she didn’t know what she’d be doing, he’d praised her honesty and hadn’t pressed the issue again.

If the situation had been reversed, not knowing would have eaten Marcie alive.

Clifford threw the bowling ball and scored a strike.
She applauded wildly, reached for her beer, and saluted him. He bowed eloquently and marked the score sheet.

Marcie couldn’t imagine what it would be like to bowl with Jack. They’d never so much as attended a movie or a football game together. She didn’t even know if he liked sports or cheered for the Kansas City Chiefs.

Other than their lone dinner date, their entire relationship had revolved around their time in bed. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed herself. The sex had been incredible, but there was more to everyday life than a quick tumble in the sack.

Now Jack claimed he wanted her on a permanent basis. Marcie noted that the word “marriage” had never come up. At least not in regard to their relationship.

True, Jack had said something about two of his friends having recently married, but she’d noticed how he had carefully avoided the topic when it came to the two of them.

Men generally avoided the M word when it came to her, Marcie realized. A small pain stabbed her heart, and she shoved thoughts of Jack from her mind. It wasn’t fair to Clifford to spend time with him and stew about another man.

“How about catching something to eat?” Clifford asked when they’d finished with the game.

“That sounds great.” She feigned enthusiasm, although she wasn’t hungry.

Clifford carried both their bowling balls out to the car. He seemed a bit edgy, Marcie noticed, but she
suspected his uneasiness had to do with the uncertainty of what was happening with them.

They pulled into an all-night diner, one of his favorite spots. The waitress motioned them to the booth in the corner, and Marcie slid across the red vinyl seat.

Clifford reached for the menus tucked behind the sugar canister and handed her one. “I’m in the mood for a cheeseburger,” he announced. “How about you?”

Marcie shook her head. “I’m not that hungry,” she murmured absently. “I think I’ll just have a piece of lemon meringue pie.”

The gum-chewing waitress stopped for their order a couple of minutes later.

“So,” Clifford said, holding on to his water glass with both hands, “how’s life treating you this week?”

“Good,” she said.

He cleared his throat and briefly met her eyes before lowering them once more to his water glass. “I got to thinking this afternoon about you and this other friend of yours.”

“You want to know if I’ve seen him again, is that what this is all about?”

Clifford shook his head. “No,” he said with emphasis. “It’s probably better if you don’t tell me, and not because I’m burying my head in the sand, either. If you are seeing him, which you certainly have every right to do, I’d dwell on it more than I should and risk screwing up Mr. Wallace’s remodeling project.” He smiled tightly and focused his concentration on the tabletop once more.

“Clifford, maybe—”

“I don’t mean to interrupt you, but if you’d let me finish what I have to say, it would be easier. Okay?”

“Sure.” He was so adorable that Marcie had to work not to slip out of her seat and join him on the other side of the table. Instead she reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“When I left it up to you to date this old friend of yours, I got to thinking that maybe you assumed I didn’t really care if you did date this other guy.”

“Oh, Clifford, I know better.”

“I’m not much to look at, I realize that. There’s grease under my fingernails, and I could stand to lose a few pounds.”

Marcie had never seen anything but a gentle, kind man who was good for her and to her. Clifford would never pretend to be something he wasn’t. He’d never lied to her. He was thoughtful, sweet, and generous.

“You’re my teddy bear.”

A smile quirked one edge of his mouth upward. “No one’s called me a pet name before. At least none that they were willing to say to my face.” He sat up straight and rubbed his hand along the backside of his neck.

“When I met you I’d given up the hope that I’d meet someone special,” he continued. “Hell, I’m close to thirty-five now. My younger brother’s got four kids. His oldest is going into junior high in September.”

“Bobby?”

Clifford nodded. “I’ve never been good with women, talking with ’em and stuff like that. It seemed
every time I was around an attractive woman my tongue would get all tied up and I’d say something stupid that would sound like an insult. Then I met you.” He chanced a look at her.

“You came into my life at just the right moment as well,” Marcie said. She’d never mentioned her past. Never told him about the mistakes she’d made. The time, energy, and esteem she’d squandered on users and losers. For all Clifford knew, she was as white and pure as lambs’ wool.

“I did?”

“I’d given up on finding a decent man.”

“You?” He seemed incredulous. “But, Marcie, you’re beautiful. There must have been a hundred men who wanted to make you their wife.”

She hadn’t the heart to tell him the truth. Men didn’t marry a good-time girl. They’d had their fun and their kinky sex with her and then gone home to their wives and girlfriends.

Clifford lowered his head once again, then arched his back and stuck his hand inside his pants’ pocket. He brought out a diamond ring, which he held between his thumb and index finger. The stone was small and glittered in the light.

He cleared his throat and looked skeptically at her. “I’ve been trying for the better part of a month to find the nerve to ask you to marry me, Marcie. This here diamond’s been in my pocket all this time.”

“A month?”

“Everytime I’d try to come up with the words, my tongue would stick to the roof of my mouth. I must have rehearsed what I wanted to say a thousand
times. Then your rich friend came in the picture and, well…I decided I’d wait to see what happened with him.”

“But—”

“I know, I know. This guy’s still in town, and I figure you’re probably seeing him. I called you last night and there wasn’t any answer.”

“You didn’t leave a message on the answering machine?”

“No,” he admitted reluctantly, “I figured I was going to lose you to this fancy guy even before I had a chance to propose.”

“Clifford, please.” Her throat was closing up on her at the unexpectedness of the proposal. She didn’t know what to say.

“I know this is probably the worst thing I could possibly do to you now. The truth is, Marcie, I was afraid this diamond would be burning a hole in my pocket when you told me you were going back to your old boyfriend.”

“Oh, Clifford.”

“I love you, Marcie. I have from the day I first walked into your shop and you gave me a haircut. It was the first time a woman had ever cut my hair. You were so friendly and nice and chatted away like I was someone special. Women generally treat me like a husky Forrest Gump. I suppose that’s because sometimes I don’t make a whole lot of sense.”

“Clifford, you’re smart and kind….”

“Yeah, but I don’t fit the image of the tall, dark, handsome hero, and so…Never mind, none of that is important. What is important is that I love you. I
want to marry you, and if you agree, I promise I’ll do everything within my power to make you happy.”

Marcie covered her mouth with both hands as tears blinded her eyes. “There’s so much you don’t know about me.”

“I know everything that’s important.”

Marcie wiped the moisture from her face as she saw the waitress arrive with their order. She sniffled and smiled at Clifford.

“Would you mind very much if I took a day or two to think it over?”

He grinned and nodded. “I thought that was what you’d say. Take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Then, with barely a pause, he reached for his cheeseburger and ate it like a man on the brink of starvation.