Stranger in the Mirror [Shades of Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) (9 page)

“You’ll have another chance.”

She shook her head. “I don’t deserve another chance. Life is enough, love is too much, too difficult to manage.”

“Who says you have to manage it? It should flow, like this ole’ river.”

She watched the leaves drift past, floating on top of the brown water. “I wish it were that easy. It’s hard to think of it like a lazy river when your life has always been the rapids.”

They sat in contemplative silence, facing each other. Her thoughts turned outward as she realized with chagrin that Jesse went around without his shirt much too often.

She wondered if the first Marti had been in love with Jesse, whether she’d been fascinated by the subtle way he smiled, by the deliberate way he spoke. Had Jesse’s wife ever run her fingers across the expanse of his chest, trailed the edge of her fingernail down the indent in the middle? They had had sex once, enough to make the baby inside her body. Maybe she’d been afraid of failing in bed, of not living up to expectations.

Her gaze traveled down her own thin, tan arms, skinny legs with knobby knees. No big promises here, she thought, sighing inwardly. On the other hand, nothing to live up to either. In her old body, she had been sexy since she was fifteen. Now she felt like she did at thirteen, before her chest had blossomed and her hips had grown curvy. Before her first kiss. Awkward and unsteady. Would she ever feel comfortable in this body?

“Marti?”

Jesse’s low voice drew her from her disturbing thoughts. “Yes?”

“You have to promise me something.”

She wanted to back away from a forced promise, but she didn’t. “What is it?”

“That you won’t hurt that baby inside you. That no matter what happens between you and me, you won’t do anything to hurt him, or have an abortion. Promise me.”

“I promise.” That was easy, she thought, releasing her breath. She put her hand on her belly, imagining the fetus she saw on anti-abortion billboards. “I would never hurt him.”

He released a breath, too. “You’re off on Sundays, so we’ll get you a bed.”

He stood, stretching out his large hand for her to take. There was something secure about his fingers closing around hers. A mental picture flashed into her mind, Jesse with his brawn and muscles holding a fragile baby. She found herself smiling at the thought and wiped the grin away. Still, the picture remained, along with the feeling of security that went with it cloaked her in a warmth she hadn’t felt in many years.

For all his gestures of warmth and security, though, Jesse James West wasn’t letting anyone into his heart except his family. He’d probably go to any length to protect her, but he wouldn’t let himself fall in love with her. Not that she wanted that, she reminded herself. That was some other woman’s loss.

CHAPTER 5

“Have you ever seen Paul’s eagle pendant?” Marti asked around a forkful of pancake the next morning.

Jesse’s eyes narrowed across the Formica table at the Someplace Else Cafe. “I meant it when I told you not to talk to him again. He’s trouble.”

Her shoulders stiffened in response. “Keep your rifle in your jeans, cowboy. Husband or not, you can’t tell me who I’m allowed to talk to. The only reason I brought him up was because… oh, it’s probably nothing. Never mind.”

“What? What were you going to tell me?”

“Have you noticed his pendant? Really noticed it?”

“Sure. He showed it off to everyone when he got it. Why?”

“It caught my attention for some reason. Last night, when I saw the scratch on my chest, I realized why. It looks like the kind of object that could make that scratch.”

Fire lit Jesse’s eyes as he leaned closer. “What scratch?”

“I have a scratch, though it’s almost healed now. You didn’t know?”

“I want to see it.” Apparently not.

She glanced around at the busy diner. “Not here. It’s too low.” She pointed to where it was, at the upper curve of her breast.

He pushed his plate away. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

After they pulled out of the parking lot, he turned onto the first street they came across and found a vacant lot. Dust surrounded the truck as he screeched to an abrupt stop.

He cut the engine and faced her. “Show me.”

His intensity made her nervous. She tried to make a funny to ease the tension. “Don’t you want to flirt a little first?”

“Marti, this isn’t the time to joke around.”

“Nervous humor.” She erased her smile and stretched her shirt down.

He studied the scratch, pressing his finger on it. “You’re right, it’s almost gone.” He leaned back. “Dr. Toby took pictures to document the assault.”

Jesse started the truck and slammed it into reverse. She grabbed onto the strap to keep from flying around.

“You really hate that guy, don’t you?” she asked.

“I hate the guy who did this to you. If it was Paul, he’s dead.”

She shivered at the vehemence in his voice. Jesse came off easy-going, but inside he carried a lot of heat.

At the hospital, Dr. Toby explained that she had turned over all the photos to the sheriff. She pulled up the report she’d made and read her brief description of the scratch. “The picture will be much clearer,” she said.

Jesse was just as intent on getting to the sheriff’s office, and Marti became very friendly with that strap.

The sheriff’s office looked more like a storefront, with reflective windows that mirrored the main street from the outside and a brick façade. Lyle was sitting at the front desk in the small office, reading through the pile of mail. He looked up, then squinted as the morning sun reflected off the glass door. The blinds on the front windows left the office with a subdued feeling.

“Hey, Jesse. Marti. How are you two doing?”

Jesse leaned on the desk. “We might be doing real well if you can help us. I’ve got to see the pictures Dr. Toby took of Marti.”

“You’ll have to talk to Carl.”

“Why? You were the investigating officer.”

“I know, but Carl took over the case.” Lyle sniffed at the air. “He wanted to investigate the biggest case we’ve had since Mr. Peekin’s poodles were kidnapped for those dog fights. I guess he didn’t think I could handle it. I could’ve, you know.”

“I’m sure you could have, Lyle,” Jesse pressed. “As good a job as anyone. We just want to see those pictures for a minute.”

“A quick peek, in and out,” Marti added.

Lyle shook his head. “You’ll have to talk to Carl, and he’s not in. I can radio him if you got a lead.”

“No, don’t radio him.” Jesse clamped his hand on Marti’s shoulder. “It’s her body; let us look at the pictures. No one will know. We’ll give you the credit if what I want to look at does turn into something.”

“What do you have?”

“I’ll tell you when I have more to go on. The photos?”

Lyle hedged, looking out the door behind Jesse. “One quick peek.”

Both Jesse and Marti breathed a sigh of relief as Lyle went searching through the drawers of the spotless desk in back with Carl’s name and title spelled out prominently on a nameplate. He brought a large white envelope and pulled out a stack of photos. Marti took them before Jesse could grab hold.

“I’ll show you the ones I want you to see.” She flipped through them, the images clenching her stomach even though she’d seen them in person. “There are none of my chest.”

Lyle took the stack and went through them. “Every injury is supposed to be documented. Where is it?”

She pointed.

He went to another computer. After a few minutes of tapping keys and squinting at the monitor, he said, “Nothing in here either. Maybe Dr. Toby missed it.”

“She didn’t miss it,” Jesse said. “Maybe someone deleted the picture.”

“No, we’re very careful about that.”

“Come on.” Jesse tugged Marti out the door.

“Do you think they did it on purpose?” she asked as they got into the truck.

“I don’t know. Carl might be protecting his son, if he connected that scratch like you did.”

“I can draw what it looked like. Will that help?”

“It’ll help, but it won’t be proof.”

After stopping at a furniture store, Jesse carried in the bed frame and mattress with Marti guiding him verbally to avoid walls and obstructions. With the bed positioned, Jesse dropped down onto it, arms outstretched. He stared at the ceiling, and she stared at him. Catching herself, she checked out the room that was to be hers for a while.

It was smaller than Jesse’s room, with dark paneled walls. The lone bare window would allow anyone to look in at night. The closet was an indent, not even big enough to stand in. Jesse still looked a thousand miles away, and she searched the room for something to break the silence.

She saw the packages of sheets on top of the dresser and grasped at the opportunity to bring him back. “What are these for?”

He looked at the packages she held up, his eyes still tinged with some distant anger. “Marti bought those. We couldn’t afford the fancy curtains in the JC Penny catalog, so she was going to make curtains out of those sheets. This is going to be the nursery.”

Marti looked at the tiny white lambs on a mint green background and imagined them as ornate curtains for the bare window. She lacked in the creativity department, but maybe she could do something nice with them.

When she looked at Jesse again, he was staring out the window. His thoughts were miles away again, obviously some unpleasant place by his expression. The curves of his mouth that usually tilted up in a smile, even when he wasn’t smiling, were straight.

He stood suddenly. “I’ve got to go out for a little while.”

Something in his expression tightened her heart “Where?”

He swiped something off the dining table. “To see an old buddy of mine. I’ll be back.”

She watched him walk determinedly to his truck, realizing that the dark fire in his eyes had been there ever since she’d told him about the pendant that morning. The sketches of the pendant and her scratch were gone.

What if Jesse killed Paul? What if they arrested Jesse? The questions numbed her mind. After pacing in front of the living room window for a few minutes, she turned back to her new bedroom and put her nervous energy to work.

Jesse had finally maxed out his self-control. From the moment Marti had mentioned the pendant, he’d wanted to confront Paul—hell, he wanted to beat the crap out of him. Even the irony of bed shopping with Marti hadn’t distracted him. Now he couldn’t hold it back anymore. Not that he would start pummeling Paul’s face and ask questions later. He couldn’t do that until he had more evidence. But maybe he could gently persuade Paul to admit he’d attacked Marti. Yeah, gently persuade him.

Paul’s fancy new truck, black with neon ribbons trailing across the sides, sat outside. The house was partially hidden by a large banyan tree, roots dripping down from the branches to find a hold. Two stories of brick house stood a short distance away.

Jesse headed right for Paul’s truck. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he started digging through the piles of receipts, papers and cigarette packages anyway.

“I don’t believe there was a for sale sign on my truck, so would you mind telling me what you’re doing snooping around in it?”

Jesse swung on Paul so fast, Paul was pinned against the cab of the truck before he could think of fighting back. Jesse had more important things to do before beating him senseless. He grabbed at the pendant and pressed it against the inside of his wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?” Paul jerked out of his grasp before Jesse could get an imprint.

The rage twisted up in Jesse’s throat, and his voice came out strangled. “You son of a bitch, you attacked my wife. You kill—tried to kill her.”

Paul’s chest heaved as he tried to gain his composure. “I didn’t touch your wife!” He shook himself free, his blindingly white teeth gritted together.

“Don’t think I believe that for a minute. Your daddy might tamper with the evidence that proved your eagle scratched Marti’s chest, but I’ll find another way to nail you.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about? What evidence?”

“Why don’t you ask your daddy? He’ll tell you about the missing pictures, the one with the imprint particularly. The imprint that matches your pendant. I will prove it, and you will pay. Not even your daddy will be able to save you when I’m through with you.”

Paul crept around the truck and toward the house. “Isn’t it a little late to go around protecting your wife? Now that it’s over, you want to be the big avenger. Why don’t you spend your energies making sure your wife has enough gas in her car? Oh, and Jesse? You ever try something like this again, and you’ll be the one to pay. I promise you that.”

“You’d better be as ready to back up your promises as I am,” Jesse shouted.

He watched Paul head back into the house, then studied the faint imprint of the pendant on his arm. Close, real close. Unfortunately, it would be faded by the time he got home.

Ever since they were kids, Paul had a snake-edged tongue, always slicing through where Jesse was most tender. But he felt in every cell of his body that Paul was the one who attacked Marti. Not that he had much proof, but he could take a smidgen of hope and turn it into something tangible, like he’d done with racing. He would do it here, too.

Chuck was kind enough to close Bad Boys for Thanksgiving. Then Marti learned that it wasn’t so much out of kindness, because most of Chattaloo’s businesses were closed for the holiday.

She searched for large pans and serving dishes in Jesse’s cabinets, stacking them up on the table for transport to Helen’s at two o’clock. When Jesse walked into the kitchen wearing a maroon dress shirt and black pants, she just stared at him. Not only because he looked so formal and handsome and—she clamped her mouth shut. “I thought we were eating at your mom’s house.”

“We are. Why?”

“You look … nice.” She resisted the temptation to say,
Boy, you sure clean up nice
.

He shrugged. “We always dress up for holiday dinners.” He looked down at himself and grinned. “Then we crowd into the kitchen and sweat and get food all over our nice clothes before dinner even begins. It always did seem silly to me, but Ma insists.”