Secret Agent Groom (The Bridal Circle #2)

by Andrea Edwards

  “Silly, isn’t it? But that’s me.”

  “I thought maybe you had—”

  “Summer’s really a bad time for me.” She didn’t want to know what he was going to say. “Bugs all over the place and I’m fainting right and left. Nobody invites me to barbecues anymore.”

  “I guess not.”

  His voice was thoughtful, uncertain. She closed her eyes in relief and managed to move a step or two, enough to sink onto the edge of the bathtub. He was buying it.

  “Thanks for checking up on me,” she called out. “But I’m fine. Don’t have time to be anything but fine with the festival coming up so soon.”

  He didn’t say anything and a little wave of panic washed over her. Maybe he wasn’t buying it. Maybe he was suspicious, or annoyed. Or even worried that she was trying to latch onto him.

  “I have so many Oz costumes to finish,” she said quickly. “I bet we won’t even see each other for the next month.” Was that long enough? “Or maybe even a couple of months. Maybe we should wish each other a Merry Christmas now, just in case.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he said.

  It had to be her imagination, but his voice sounded odd. Not quite disappointed which would make no sense. Resigned maybe. No, it was the echoes in the room, that was all.

  “So Merry Christmas,” she said.

  “Uh, Happy New Year.”

  There was no mistaking the odd tone this time, but she didn’t try to read any meaning into it. Holding her breath, she waited. After a moment that lasted several centuries, she heard him leave the room and a minute later she heard her back door close.

  She let her breath out with a sigh and leaned against the bathroom wall. Alex Waterstone was a spy. A bad guy. If this was a movie, he’d be wearing a black hat and everyone would boo when he came on the screen. If this was Oz, he’d be the Wicked Wizard of the West.

  Now she knew one way to win that bet with Toto—get proof of Alex’s evilness and turn him in. But she could never do that.

  Chapter Seven

  Alex walked out to the street with the student tutors, keeping his eyes from straying over to Heather’s house. He refused to find interest in the fact that lights were still on in her living room, so she must still be awake. He would not wonder what was keeping her up until midnight tonight when her lights were normally out by ten. And he certainly would not give a moment’s thought to the question of which pajamas she was wearing tonight—the cats or the teddy bears.

  It should be getting easier to ignore Heather; it’d been a week since he’d spoken to her. A week of long hours spent undercover. A week of coming home for short breaks at odd hours. A week of holding his breath with worry and anticipation every time the doorbell sounded or the phone rang thinking it could be Heather.

  A week of being so on edge that his relief felt almost like disappointment when it wasn’t her at the door. Which was crazy, because this was what he wanted. This was what he had to do to keep her safe. And right now, he had to be concentrating on the undercover work and the fact that, as planned, he had missed his first loan payment. He didn’t need any distractions. Not his next-door neighbor, not her cats, not anything.

  This meeting this evening with his student tutors had helped remind him that his real job was to catch some crooks.

  “With the Labor Day weekend here, be flexible with your schedules. We aren’t jailers,” Alex said as the students stopped near their cars. “Any last questions?”

  “Yeah. Can we get extra tickets to the home opener?” one of the students asked him. “My brother’s coming in and I’d like him to see the game.”

  Alex laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. At least you gave me a week to figure something out.”

  “If you can get him another ticket, I might have a brother coming too,” another student said.

  They all laughed and then piled into the cars parked along the street in front of Alex’s home. After much waving, honking and revving of engines, they pulled away from his house. They turned at the light two blocks down and disappeared from sight. The quiet of the night returned and the darkness got even thicker. The streetlights seemed unable to penetrate the shadows. It reminded him of the night Heather had come into his yard to catch Bonnie.

  He turned toward her house. He hadn’t wanted to but his head did. How was the little cat doing? Had she progressed enough to be let out of the cage, or maybe even out of the room? Just one more thing he would never know. One more thing that it was best he didn’t know.

  He turned to go back to his own house and saw something light-colored down by the sidewalk at the other side of her yard. It looked like a paper. Well, that was one thing he could do for her, pick up some stray trash from her yard.

  He went over and plucked the page from a free advertising newspaper from her lawn, crumpling it in his hand as he took a close look at her house. The bushes were a little high by that window, but otherwise the place looked pretty secure. Though that evergreen to the right of her door should really be trimmed back. And that sprinkler hose should definitely be—

  “Yo, professor.”

  Alex turned, taken by surprise. “Did you leave something here?”

  But it wasn’t one of his students. It was a large man in slacks and a suit coat who was now only a step or two away. A second man, shorter but just as wide, wasn’t far behind. Only then did Alex notice the dark sedan parked farther down the street.

  Damn. The loan shark’s collection squad. Where had his mind been? Life in Chesterton was making him careless.

  “We didn’t leave nothing, but a little bird said you was supposed to,” the large man said as he pushed Alex. A mixture of sweat, testosterone, and beer filled the air around him.

  “Hey,” Alex said and started forward only to stop. He was a professor. A wimpy, untrained professor who not only couldn’t fight back, but wouldn’t. Damn, Chesterton was fogging his mind.

  He let his shoulders droop and darted quick glances at the men. “I just need a little more time,” he said, whining the practiced lines even as he heard a noise behind him, a sound like a window opening in Heather’s house.

  Damn. He closed his eyes in brief anguish. That was all he needed after working so hard to keep her uninvolved. He had to get this over with quickly and quietly. Or at least, move it away from Heather’s front yard.

  He smiled at the thugs, hoping they could see his grin in the shadowy night. Hoping they would let him move over ten or twenty feet. “If you come—”

  But they weren’t about to let him do anything. “How about you come up with the money you owe?” the second thug muttered, his lips clamped around his cigarette. He grabbed for Alex’s shirtfront.

  Only at the same time, Alex had been taking a step toward his yard and away from Heather’s. The man’s sudden movement caused Alex to automatically move sideways, tangling his foot in Heather’s garden hose. He tottered for a moment, trying to regain his balance, and failed. He fell backward as if he’d been tackled and hit the base of his skull on something hard and unmoving. The garden sprinkler, he thought briefly as darkness threatened to claim him.

  “What the hell did you have to hit him for?” the bigger man whispered sharply to his partner. “We were just supposed to push him around a little.”

  “I didn’t hit him,” the second man murmured back. “I just pushed him a little and he fell. He must have a glass head.”

  Alex fought back the dizziness. He started to sit up but stopped. Maybe it would be better for them to think they’d knocked him out. Maybe then they’d leave and Heather would have nothing else to hear and come investigate.

  Alex closed his eyes, willing the thugs to leave. Unfortunately, he had fallen into a bed of flowers and the sweet smell was overpowering. He felt a sneeze coming on. Why couldn’t Heather have a plain old lawn instead of flower beds at every corner?

  One of the men nudged Alex with his foot and Alex moaned softly for effect. He was down, they could leave. So why weren’t they?r />
  “What do we do with him?” the first man whispered.

  “The streetlights ain’t very bright. Let’s just leave him here.”

  Yes, Alex agreed silently. Leave me here and go.

  “Better we should put him inside his house.” That would be okay too, Alex thought. Take him inside where innocent strangers wouldn’t get involved.

  “Uh, I dunno. Looks like somebody’s moving around inside.”

  What were they talking about? There was no one in his house. Damn. The fog in his brain parted for a split second. They thought Heather’s house was his!

  “How about we dump him on the porch?”

  “Great. Grab his feet. I’ll take his shoulders.”

  “No.” Alex rolled away from them and got to his feet. The world wobbled a bit, but nothing major. Nothing he couldn’t handle. “I’m okay.”

  The smaller man laughed and tossed his cigarette to the side. “Looks like the doc is afraid of the old lady.”

  Alex frowned, a slow anger starting to simmer. He wasn’t afraid of anything, certainly not Heather. But he didn’t like this jerk talking about her. He didn’t like the fact that they knew Heather was even around.

  “How could anyone be afraid of someone in those dumb pajamas?” the other man said.

  The two thugs had been looking in Heather’s windows ! Alex’s anger was slow no more. It exploded sky-high. These jerks were not allowed to laugh at Heather. She was sweet and gentle and caring. He grabbed the nearer thug, pulling him up by his shirtfront.

  “Leave her alone, you little worm,” Alex snapped.

  “Hey, doc!” the other man snarled.

  “Hello? Is someone out there?” Heather called from the house.

  Alex turned, his heart stopping. She wasn’t coming outside, was she? Then something solid connected with his chin, blackness swallowed him and he was falling backward. Away from the sprinkler, he hoped.

  He felt a solid thunk on the back of his head, and had a brief realization that his hopes weren’t to be answered before everything really went black this time.

  Heather stepped out onto the front porch. Good. Alex’s company was gone and she could move her sprinkler. She hadn’t been about to run outside in her pajamas while he and his friends had been out in front. Not that any of them would notice or care what she was wearing.

  She crept out onto the lawn, hoping no one was looking out their windows. Or that no bats were flying around low. Billy Mason told her class this morning that one had gotten into his house last week.

  She stopped, horror freezing her mind as she saw something on the yard near the sidewalk. What if it was a raccoon? No, it was too big for that. A bear, maybe? Did they even have bears around here? She didn’t think so and, swallowing hard, inched closer. The lump on the ground moved slightly.

  Heavens, it was Alex!

  The wobbliness of his movements as he tried to sit up pushed everything else from Heather’s thoughts and she raced over to his side.

  “Alex? Are you all right? What happened?” She knelt down on the dew-damp grass.

  He was frowning at her as if he didn’t know who she was. Gracious, had he been mugged again? But no one ever got mugged in Chesterton!

  “Are those the cats or the teddy bears?” he asked.

  Oh, no. He was delirious. This was serious. She wrestled for a moment with her conscience, then knew what she had to do.

  She reached over and slipped his arm around her shoulders. The closeness did funny things to her breathing and to her heart, but she promised herself she would not pay attention to such nonsense. This wasn’t the time to get all silly.

  “Let’s get you inside,” she told him. “We can talk about it then.”

  She put her arm around his waist. Golly, it was solid. He must be all muscle. She wondered if his arms were as strong. He could probably lift her with one hand. What would it be like to dance with him?

  A raindrop landed on her arm, then another and another. A timely reminder to get her mind back where it belonged and stop dragging out all sorts of foolish fantasies.

  “I don’t need help,” he mumbled.

  “Of course, you don’t.” Heather got him slowly to his feet. He was able to stand, but kept rubbing the back of his head.

  “Damn but you have a hard sprinkler,” he muttered.

  “Yes, I’m sorry about that,” she murmured. “I keep meaning to get a softer one.”

  She wasn’t sure if he realized that his other arm was around her shoulders, but she wasn’t going to point it out. She moved slowly toward her front door, bringing him along like a reluctant horse. Just keep moving, she whispered in her heart. If he fell, she’d have no way to get him inside. Just a few more steps.

  But when they reached the spill of light thrown across the grass by the open door, he stopped. “I need to go home,” he said.

  “You need to get your head looked at,” she said. “You could have a concussion or worse.”

  He took his arm from her shoulders and moved a step away from her. “I’m fine.”

  “You aren’t fine,” she informed him. “You got knocked out.”

  “I just tripped.”

  Why was he being so stupidly stubborn? “I need to get you to the emergency room.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  His voice had taken a definite sharp turn, but she didn’t care.

  “Then I’ll call the paramedics.”

  “I don’t need the paramedics. I’m going home.”

  “And collapse and die there by yourself,” she snapped. “I don’t think so, Mr. Know-It-All.”

  He stopped and stared at her. As well he might. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she was not going to lose this battle.

  “I’m not going to die,” he told her, but his voice had gotten gentler.

  And that gentler tone did something strange to her heart. It made her bravado double and triple in size. And made her take his hand in hers.

  “Come inside and let me look at your head,” she said. “If you don’t, I’m calling the paramedics and I’ll tell them you’re acting irrationally.”

  He sighed, a sound of obvious annoyance and exasperation, but he did come up onto the porch and into the house.

  “This really isn’t necessary,” he pointed out.

  “You’re irrational, remember?” she said. “You aren’t able to judge what’s necessary and what isn’t. Get in the kitchen. The light is best in there.”

  She led him into the kitchen, accompanied by Victoria and Henry, and pulled out a chair at the table. The cats bravely sniffed at Alex’s feet while she got her flashlight from the pantry. There was purring in the air by the time she turned back, but was it her or her cats?

  She didn’t have time for such thoughts right now. She grabbed the flashlight and went up behind Alex.

  “This really is ridiculous,” he said. His grumps had returned.

  “Lower your head, please.”

  She shone the flashlight on the back of his head, suddenly reluctant to run her fingers through his hair. It just seemed so...so...so intimate. But she didn’t need to touch him to see the lump at the back of his head.

  “Gracious,” she cried. “You really took a wallop. What happened?”

  “Nothing,” he said and got unsteadily to his feet. “I trapped.”

  This was a man that did every daredevil stunt ever conceived as a kid—and had never gotten hurt. And now she was supposed to believe he had turned clumsy and tripped over her sprinkler? She wasn’t that naive. But she wasn’t going to pursue the matter just now.

  “You need to get that looked at,” she said. “I bet you’ve got a concussion.”

  He flexed his shoulders. “It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll be fine.”

  He started toward the door, but she was faster and blocked his way. Hands crossed over her chest, she gave him a look that hopefully didn’t reveal the way her knees were knocking. Henry- darted behind her as backup. />
  “If you aren’t going to the emergency room, you aren’t going anywhere,” she said. “You need to have someone check on you often. Like every two or three hours.”

  He was not happy. In fact, he looked pretty dam murderous, but she refused to budge. She knew in a minute, she would collapse. If he said “Boo!” to her, she’d give in. She always had in the past and was certain this would be no different.

  But he didn’t say “Boo!” or anything else. He just sank back into the chair with a frown. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I shouldn’t be here at all. It’ll give everyone the wrong impression.”

  She laughed at that. If that wasn’t the sweetest, most old-fashioned idea. “No one’s watching,” she assured him. “And if they are, no one cares. Come on, I’ll show you the spare room.”

  Toto slowed his car to a stop and frowned as he peered through the gentle rain at Heather’s house. The place was all lit up.

  “That’s odd,” he told Junior. “She’s never up this late. We’d better check things out.”

  Toto turned off the engine, then he and Junior got out. He wasn’t sure if the retired police dog liked the rain, but Toto thought it felt good, cooling after the day’s heat. Maybe once they got home, they’d take a nice long walk in it. Nothing much to stay at home for anymore. Not since Dorothy had left town.

  Penny and Brad were back from Paris. He hadn’t actually seen them because seeking them out would look too much like he was anxious for news of Dorothy. Of course, he was, but no one needed to know that.

  Toto walked across the lawn, checking out the perimeter of the house. Drapes were closed in most of the windows except in the kitchen where the lights were off. In the light filtering in from the living room he could see one of Heather’s cats sitting on top of the refrigerator. It looked pretty calm, just giving itself a bath, so everything was probably all right

  Still, he and Junior climbed the back stairs and pushed open the kitchen door. “Heather?” Toto called softly.

  The cat jumped off the refrigerator and disappeared. A moment later, Heather came into the kitchen.