Sweet Dreams Boxed Set (149 page)

“Talk to me, Chris. I’ll go nuts if you don’t.”

He’d forgotten she thought he was Chris Patterson. He didn’t bother correcting her. “I have nothing to say,” he told her.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

He sighed.

“I never should have attempted to run off with that trucker. But try and put yourself in my shoes for a minute. A dead guy at the morgue where I work turns out to be an escaped convict accused of killing his business partner and friend. That same man forces me to go with him, against my will. He steals my money and then expects me to sleep in the same bed as him.”

His jaw twitched. “I told you I would let you go when this is over. I haven’t touched you inappropriately or harmed you in any way. If anything, I’ve provided a means by which to help get you out of your rut.”

“My rut? Who said I was in a rut?”

“Nobody. Forget I said anything.”

“No. I want to hear it.” She crossed her arms as she often did when she was upset. “Why do you think I’m in a rut?”

“Maybe rut was the wrong word. But come on, the way I felt you staring at a dead man back in Vermont was my first clue that at the very least, you might be bored.”

“That’s not a fair assessment, especially since you weren’t even dead.”

He wasn’t in the business of judging or analyzing others, but the fact that she’d been causing him nothing but trouble egged him on. “The fact that you hadn’t bathed in who knows how long was another indication that something was wrong.”

“I had a rough night and I was late for work—oh, never mind.”

“And what kind of woman would date a guy like Rob?”

“Sure, okay, I’ll give you that one, but—”

“You also happen to work in a privately-owned morgue in the middle of nowhere.”

“Where do you get off judging me and my choices?”

“You’re the one that wanted to talk. I made a simple observation and you wanted details, so maybe it’s best if we go back to watching the highway.”

“How do you know the morgue is privately owned?”

“It was all on Chris Patterson’s chart.”

“You mean
your
chart.”

“Yeah, sure,
my
chart.”

“Oh, my God. You’re not Chris Patterson!”

He drew in a breath. “Chris Patterson is dead.”

“You killed him. You
are
a killer.”

He released an exasperated breath. “Listen carefully because I refuse to repeat what I’m about to tell you. A riot broke out at the prison. Six men died. Refrigeration trucks were brought in and the bodies were picked up. Because of good behavior,” he said with much emphasis, “I happened to be on cleanup duty outside the prison. I switched all the wristbands on the corpses, put Chris Patterson inside another’s guy’s body bag, then took off my clothes and climbed into his empty bag. The rest is history.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one who had my ass squeezed by a toothless man as he helped me into his freightliner.”

For a few moments, she was quiet. “I do appreciate you coming back for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“If you’re not Chris Patterson, who are you?”

“Jason Caldwell.”

It didn’t take long for the silence to stretch out between them once more. When Angela went back to staring out the window, he said, “I’ll take you to your mom’s.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile.

They stopped for directions no less than three times. It was dark by the time they finally pulled up in front of a house in the middle of a five-acre lot in Lincoln, Nebraska. It was a big, two-story home with a long, gravely driveway and a wrap-around porch. They grabbed their stuff and climbed out of the car.

“She won’t mind that we just show up without warning?” he asked.

“No. She won’t mind.”

Thunder clapped in the distance and before they got to the front door, the clouds cracked opened and the rain began to come down hard. They ran quickly up the stairs to the covered porch, and stood there, gazing out at the downpour.

The wind had picked up and from where Jason stood the trees seemed to be dancing, their gangly branches swaying back and forth. It was one of the most beautiful sights he’d seen in a very long time.

When Angela looked his way, he smiled at her.

Despite the warmth of the air, hail came next. Angela reached out a hand and laughed as they both watched the icy pebbles gather in her palm.

The front door to the house opened just then and a barefoot blonde wearing a sleeveless, pale blue dress stepped out onto the porch. Her face tightened when her gaze fell on Angela. The woman’s wavy blonde hair swept well past her shoulders. She was the same height as Angela and they had identical noses and mouths. Definitely related. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” she asked.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

The blonde pushed strands of damp hair out of Angela’s face, then hugged her as if it strained her to do so. When she stepped back, she looked her over and said, “You’ve gained some weight, I see.”

Before Angela could answer, the woman gave Jason the once-over, letting her gaze roam slowly, carefully, down the length of him. “And who do we have here?”

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Rob. The guy I mentioned on the phone the last time we talked.”

“Nice to meet you, Rob.” Her mother came up on her tiptoes and kissed him on one cheek and then the other. “You can call me Samantha.” She looped an arm through his and ushered him inside the house, leaving Angela to follow behind.

He could hear music playing and people talking.

“It sounds like you’re having a party,” Angela said.

“Just a few friends.” Samantha dragged him into the main room. “Everyone! I’d like you to meet my daughter, Angela, and her boyfriend, Rob.”

There were three women and two men sitting in various spots inside a vast living space with floor to ceiling windows. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Jason, on the other hand, didn’t like the idea of being seen by too many people. He wasn’t sure what the deal was with Angela and her mother, but the tension between the two women was thick and uncomfortable.

“Is this the daughter who spends most of her time with a bunch of stiffs?” a woman asked.

They all laughed.

“Looks like she caught herself a live one, though,” another woman said.

More laughter.

Samantha ushered them both to the kitchen. “What can I get you two?”

“Nothing for me,” Jason told her.

She filled two glasses with champagne and handed one to Angela and one to Jason.

Jason set his full glass back on the counter. He needed to get out of there before someone recognized him.

Angela took a sip.

“Oh, come on,” Samantha said, trying to hand Jason his glass again and nearly toppling over in the process.

“Mom, I’m sorry to show up without notice, but I hope it’s okay if we stay the night.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks,” Angela said. “It’s good to see you having fun. Every time we’ve talked recently, you tell me you’re bored and spending your weekends alone.”

“That was before I met Gordon, over there.” Samantha indicated a man seated on a sofa across the room. He waved in response. Then Samantha laughed as she reached for Jason and gave his arm a squeeze before brushing a hand over his jaw.

She’d obviously had too much to drink.

Angela blushed. “Mom. Please. Leave him alone.”

“Oh, would you look at that? My daughter’s getting all territorial.”

Jason’s eyelids felt like cement blocks. “If it’s all right with you two,” he cut in, “I need to get some, sleep since we’ll be heading off early in the morning.”

“So soon?”

“It can’t be helped.”

“After you lovebirds visit with my friends, you can take the guestroom upstairs, second room to the left.”

He turned to Angela. “Why don’t you spend time with your mom? I’m going to go get some shut-eye. We have a long drive tomorrow.”

Angela looked desperate to be saved, but hell, it had been her idea to stay with her mom. If he didn’t get some rest, he wasn’t going to be able to handle another long drive like today. He walked off, leaving them both staring after him.

***

It was nearly two in the morning when Jason sat up in a cold sweat. Another nightmare, he realized; a regular occurrence since his first night behind bars.

Angela had yet to come to bed.

His mouth felt dry. He needed water.

He climbed out of bed, and made it to the top of the stairs when he heard Angela telling everyone goodnight. Then Samantha called out to her daughter.

“What is it, Mom?”

“As your mother I feel it’s my job to warn you not to get too excited about that man upstairs.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He’s a player, plain and simple. Those kinds of men don’t stick around for long. Trust me.”

“Not all men are like Dad,” Angela said.

“This has nothing to do with your father.”

“It’s late, Mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“Oh, here we go, time for a lecture from my little girl. I had a couple of drinks. So what? When are you going to loosen up and live a little?”

“Good night, Mom.”

Jason went back into the bedroom. He climbed under the covers and feigned sleep. Angela’s footsteps echoed down the hall on the way to the bathroom. It was another few minutes before the bedroom door opened and closed. “Are you awake?” she asked.

He looked toward the door, where Angela stood motionless in the dark.  Moonlight spilled in through the open blinds, and he could see she was wearing nothing but a T-shirt that hung to her knees. “What’s wrong, Angela?”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

“I don’t think so.”

She climbed into bed next to him, pulled the blankets around her, and stared at the ceiling. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked you to bring me here. Why? My mother has never had a kind word to say to me, but I wanted to see her.”

“She’s your mother.”

The mattress moved as she turned toward him and said, “You really are innocent, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For the way you’ve been mistreated. Spending eight years in prison for a crime you didn’t commit. The thought of it is unfathomable.”

She had no idea: the noise, the violence, the night screams, and fighting for survival every day.

“My mom has been an alcoholic for as long as I can remember. My grandmother said that’s why Dad left her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…me, too.”

Silence.

“What is your family like?”

There was a long pause before he answered. “My father passed away while I was in prison, but he was a wonderful man. We used to spend a lot of time together. He liked to tinker with cars and go fishing. Mom was and still is a rock—always there when we needed her, always calm during intense situations.”

“Intense situations?”

“My sister, Tracy, was a rebellious teen, and that’s putting it mildly. She dabbled in drugs, ran off to Mexico with friends and ended up in jail. Mom and Dad spent a lot of time in the principal’s office. And then I ended up in prison. Things haven’t been easy for Mom.”

“What about now? Did your sister finally grow up?”

“I haven’t seen Tracy in a while, but Mom says she’s doing well.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me, too. Now shut your eyes and get some sleep.”

“Good night,” she said, rolling to her other side.

“Pleasant dreams.”

The idea of leaving Angela here with her mother no longer seemed so appealing, but Samantha was family, and under the circumstances, it was the best he could do. He would push off in a few hours while it was still dark.

Chapter Eight

Angela woke up feeling better than she had in a very long while. She stretched her arms over her head, yawned, then glanced at the other side of the bed. The sheets were cold. Nobody was there.

She sat up.

Sunlight poured in through the window. The smell of coffee and bacon wafted through the room. She knew Jason would be ready to go, but first she needed to borrow a computer. She searched through her bag and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, went to the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth, and then headed downstairs to the kitchen.

Mom stood at the sink washing dishes, while Gordon sat at the kitchen table devouring a large helping of eggs and bacon.

“Good morning,” Angela said.

“There she is, my sweet girl.”

She knew her mom was putting on a good show because Gordon was in the room. “Where’s Jas—Rob?”

“I thought he was with you.” Her mom looked over her shoulder at Gordon. “Have you seen him?”

Gordon shook his head and tossed in a “nope” for good measure.

“Did you two have an argument?” Mom asked. “What did you say to the man?”

Angela rolled her eyes. “Stop it, Mom. Everything’s fine.”

Gordon set his mug down. “I didn’t hear anyone come or go.”

Angela ran to the front door, opened it wide, and looked outside. The gray, billowy clouds from yesterday had disappeared, leaving a blue sky in their wake. Her car was still in the driveway.

Her stomach turned. He must have taken off by foot.

He was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

She ran upstairs, changed into jeans and pulled on a pair of hiking boots. When she returned to the kitchen, Mom and Gordon were right where she’d left them. “I need some cash, Mom.”

“Why?”

“And a laptop.”

“You hardly ever see your daughter,” Gordon chimed in when he noticed Samantha hesitate. “Just give her what she needs.”

When her mother refused, Gordon got up from the table and disappeared. When he returned he was holding an ultra thin laptop.

Angela liked this man.

“That’s mine,” Mom whined.

“I gave it to your mother for her birthday and she’s used it twice.” He handed the laptop to Angela. “Password is ‘princess’”.

“Good one,” Angela said as she watched him open his billfold and pull out all the cash he had, which amounted to just over two hundred dollars.