A Dark Horse

by Cooper, Blayne

  Natalie swallowed hard as she tracked Adele’s every move. “I would never!”

  Adele’s cheeks were tear-stained and glistened in the wan light. Fresh tears spilled over, but she didn’t seem to notice them at all. She just sat there, guardedly, waiting for an explanation from Natalie.

  She’s terrified. “I-I…You were screaming. You were screaming your head off. I thought you needed help.”

  “What?” A V formed between Adele’s eyes, and her gaze grew distant. “I couldn’t get away. I tried—”

  “You were screaming, Ella, because you were dreaming. A nightmare.”

  “Oh.” Adele sounded utterly lost, then upset with herself. “God, please put your hands down.”

  Natalie suddenly realized she still had her hands in the air and she lowered them cautiously. “Are you okay?”

  To Natalie’s surprise, Adele was completely honest and shook her head no. “I don’t think so.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped lean arms around them and buried her face against them.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Natalie said softly. She took a step closer to the side of the bed, but paused midstep, foot still in the air. “Is the gun gone?” She hated guns and didn’t want to come anywhere near it.

  “Yes. I mean no. Wait.” Adele glanced down at the weapon next to her, then carefully picked it up, ejected the clip, and placed the gun and clip on the nightstand next to her bed. On the same stand sat a small heavy-glassed, Tiffany-style lamp and Adele flipped it on to its lowest setting, bathing the room in a faint warm glow. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  Even though the light was weak, it was enough to make both women flinch.

  “It’s not a problem,” Natalie said, doing her best to be calm and reassuring. She decided in that moment that she’d take to the grave the knowledge that Adele’s screams had been one of the most terrible things she’d ever heard and that her own heart was still pounding wildly in her chest.

  Adele looked up, her eyes a tiny bit clearer than before. “I’m still so sorry. I didn’t mean…In my dreams, they were after me. I-I don’t know who. Just…someone. But I was running. And the next thing I knew, there was someone at the foot of my bed, holding a weapon of some kind.”

  Natalie could see that Adele’s T-shirt was completely soaked through with sweat. Her temples and neck were also wet with perspiration and her eyes looked haunted.

  “Ella.”

  “I’m sorry,” Adele’s voice broke.

  “Shh…it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. It was just a dream.” For the moment, Natalie put out of her mind that she’d just had a gun pointed at her face. She gestured to the bed, whose covers were strewn half on and half off the bed. “Can I?”

  “Y-yes,” Adele stammered. “Of course. Sit. Please. I’m sorry. I—”

  “Stop. You didn’t know it was me.” Natalie sat on the edge of the bed and fought the urge to hug Adele. She didn’t look ready to be touched in any way. Frustrated with herself, Natalie acknowledged her own mistakes. She knew, at least partially, what Adele had been through. Sneaking up on her, and then startling her in the middle of the night, wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done, even if she’d meant well.

  But when she saw Adele lying in bed, and so unearthly still, she was petrified. For a moment she wondered whether Adele had really been lying that still or whether she was the one who was seeing things that weren’t there.

  Natalie tried to smile and hoped it didn’t look as much like a grimace as it felt. Inwardly, she was every bit as shaky as Adele appeared on the outside. “I don’t know what I’d do if I woke up with a stranger standing at the end of my bed. Yes, an umbrella stand is probably better suited to a game of Clue than it is a real-life weapon, but still, I’d probably have a heart attack.”

  At the words, Adele managed a quick half grin and then pressed her hand to her own rapidly rising and falling chest. “I might have.”

  “I called your name and you didn’t answer. I thought you were hurt or maybe…” Natalie swallowed thickly. Against her will Misty’s lifeless body and dull eyes, and then Joshua’s still form resting on the table in the morgue, reappeared in a macabre montage in her head. “Thank God, you’re not…I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  For the first time, Adele looked down at herself and noticed her disheveled, overheated state. “Ugh. Gross.” She pulled at her damp shirt, her face scrunched up in disgust, her voice still a little rough from sleep and her screams. “I haven’t had nightmares like that…since before I bought the inn.”

  Natalie frowned and suppressed the desire to tuck a wild strand of blond hair behind Adele’s ear. “It’s because you agreed to help me work on Josh’s case, isn’t it?” Guilt caused a bitter taste to rise from her belly and into her mouth.

  Adele shrugged, upset. “Who knows? It doesn’t really matter. Sometimes, I’m a mess,” she admitted, glancing quickly at Natalie’s face to gauge her reaction. Then without a word, she got up and headed for her bathroom.

  Natalie wondered if Adele had been diagnosed with PTSD, but now wasn’t the time to ask. She could hear the water running in the sink. Then, damp washcloth in hand, Adele limped past her and disappeared inside a walk-in closet.

  Suddenly a T-shirt came flying out of the closet and landed on the floor at the foot of the bed. Next came a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. “I guess I need to add sound proofing my room to the list of renovations, huh?” Adele emerged from the closet wearing a new blindingly white T-shirt and a soft pair of black cotton boxer shorts. Her skin damp and wiped clean, she grabbed the dirty clothes and washcloth and threw them all into the hamper near the closet door. Then she stared grumpily at her bed.

  Guessing what she wanted, Natalie stood and offered to help. “It’s easier with two people.”

  Adele gave Natalie a wan smile as she made her way back inside the closet. “Thanks,” she said softly, her eyes conveying that it was for more than just offering to help change the bedsheets.

  “It really is okay,” Natalie promised as she tugged the blanket from the bed and let it pool gently by her feet. “Do, um, do you want to talk about it? The dream?”

  Adele emerged with a stack of freshly laundered pale yellow sheets and pillowcases. “Not much to say.” But she spoke anyway. “I used to get nightmares like that maybe four or five nights a week. The first few months back home from the hospital after I got stabbed were the worst. God, I was so tired all the time.”

  Right when Landry left you. Bastard! Natalie seethed inwardly.

  “They were…bad.” Adele paused, and Natalie could tell she was severely editing her story. “I finally had to start playing music in Logan’s room at night so I wouldn’t wake him. But they did taper off and eventually stopped.” She nibbled her lower lip as she passed Natalie a clean pillowcase. “Or so I thought.”

  Natalie gave her a sympathetic look. She felt horrible that she’d dredged up so much inner turmoil in Adele that it was literally pouring from her in her sleep. “Maybe you shouldn’t—”

  Jaw mostly clenched, Adele muttered, “Don’t say it. I should, and I want to do it.”

  “But—”

  “I need to help you, Natalie. And Josh.”

  “But—”

  “The last few years I’ve lost control of everything. Don’t decide for me what I can or can’t handle.” A hint of vulnerability slipped through her pique. “Please.”

  That, along with the raw look on Adele’s face, stopped Natalie’s protests cold. Things were upside down. Cats were barking and fish were walking and Adele Lejeune wasn’t just asking if she could help her, she was practically begging.

  “Besides, maybe your brother’s case has nothing to do with the nightmares coming back. Maybe I just ate too much and too late.” Adele’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Thanksgiving night must be treacherous at your house.”

  “It’s not.” But the protest was weak at best.

  “Believe me, I�
�m plenty grateful that you didn’t shoot me.” Natalie hesitated for a moment, but decided to ask anyway, very aware that she was about to tread into dangerous territory. “I saw the way you were gripping that gun. What if it had been Logan who had come in?”

  Adele didn’t seem irritated by the personal question, but her shoulders slumped a bit. “I know it might sound bad, but Logan’s not allowed to come into my room on his own at night. When he’s not with Landry, I lock my door when I go to bed. If he wants inside, he knocks until I open it for him. That way I know that I’m awake. He’s also the reason I keep the clip separate from the gun.”

  Natalie trusted Adele, but couldn’t help but feel relieved at the precautionary steps.

  Once the bed was remade, Adele climbed back inside. “Man, I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” She closed her eyes, but patted a space for Natalie to sit next to her again. “Thank you for trying to help me. Even if it was crazy.” Her tone was deadly serious, but her gentle smile softened her words. “If you ever think I’m in danger, you should run the opposite direction, Natalie, and go for help.”

  Natalie actually snorted, dropping down onto the soft blankets and feeling the last few minutes catch up with her. She was exhausted. “Hardly.”

  “It’s the safest thing to do.”

  Natalie’s face fell. Was she supposed to ignore that Adele might have needed her? “But I thought we were becoming friends.”

  “We are. But—”

  “So you wouldn’t come help me if the situation was reversed?”

  Adele looked mortified. “Of course I would. But I’m a—”

  Natalie was sure the word cop died an inauspicious death on Adele’s tongue.

  “You’re a good person,” she finished, fighting the urge to fuss over Adele and tuck the covers under her chin. “And occasionally I try to be one too, okay? So give me my ten seconds of glory as a would-be hero.”

  Without warning, Adele sat up and gave Natalie a quick, but tender kiss on the cheek. Her lips lingered for a few seconds, then Adele shifted and pressed her cheek against Natalie’s, her breath hot against Natalie’s ear. She grasped Natalie’s biceps and gave them a soft squeeze. “If I ever need saving, I’ll know I can count on you. And that means everything to me.”

  Natalie shivered at the feeling of the soft mouth, strong hands…and the words.

  “Grab an extra blanket from the closet in your room if you’re cold,” Adele said quietly, pulling away very slowly, her eyes twinkling just a bit. Invitingly, she inclined her head and smiled. This time her eyes were completely clear. “See you tomorrow?”

  Natalie had to remind herself to breathe. I’m not cold. She needed a few seconds to find her voice. “Yeah,” she rasped, resolutely ignoring the way Adele’s grin grew with every second and those goddamn cute dimples appeared in her cheeks. “In the morning.”

  * * *

  The next day…

  Adele shook her head no. “He’s with Landry.”

  “For real, Little Mama? Why don’t you go back to court and get your son away from that douche bag?”

  The heated words seeped into Natalie’s ears before she finished descending the several steps into the courtyard of the Touro Street Inn. Adele was arguing with a muscular, mocha-skinned man in a bold pin-striped gray suit and gold tie.

  He was Adele’s height, sported an ultra short Afro, and looked to be somewhere in his midtwenties. It was a toss-up as to what was the most striking feature about the man: his pale green eyes, or his tattoo of a sinister-looking fanged snake that slithered from just below his ear, wrapped around his neck, and then disappeared beneath the collar of a fitted hot pink dress shirt.

  Adele threw her hands in the air. “C’mon! Not this again.”

  “Not what? I was there when he took Logan and left you alone to deal with everything after the stabbing. He’s a dick. Weren’t you the one who always told me that a good father sets an example for children by treating his baby-mama right?”

  “If I was alone, it was because I wanted to be.”

  “You make it sound like being depressed was some choice you made!”

  Adele’s mouth clicked shut, and she squirmed at his words.

  “When he left, everything changed! You stopped trying and pulled away.”

  “You’re wrong,” Adele said simply, her eyes willing him to understand. “Everything changed because of me not Landry.”

  He and Adele were practically nose-to-nose as they quarreled.

  At the sound of the back door slamming, two sets of angry eyes swung in Natalie’s direction. She had the distinct urge to turn on her heels and run back inside the house, but she held her ground. Wisconsin, Natalie decided, was a distinctly less confrontational place. “Is everything okay back here?” she asked with a steady voice, her own gaze sweeping over Adele to make sure she was all right. She gripped her morning coffee mug a little tighter.

  “Yes,” Adele piped up, glaring at the man.

  “No,” he said at the exact same time, looking just as stubborn.

  Natalie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You’re, um, you’re not going to actually fight or something, right?” She narrowed her eyes at the stranger. “If this guy is bothering you, Ella, I can call the police.”

  “As if the cops would come to this address.” Adele snorted and turned back to the man. “And fight? You mean physically?” Their eyes met again. Then they burst out laughing, their argument suddenly taking a backseat to a statement they both found especially ridiculous.

  Adele pinched him playfully on the shoulder. “Maybe I should smack you around a little, Al. I would if I thought it would make you listen to me.” She was clearly joking, but there was still an undercurrent of intensity in her voice.

  He rubbed his arm with a faux pout. “I always knew you were secretly violent.”

  Adele rolled her eyes.

  Natalie let out an explosive breath. Why was Adele always scaring the daylights out of her?

  “Natalie,” Adele began, gesturing for her to come closer, “this is Officer—”

  Stuffing his hands in his pants pockets, the man cleared his throat loudly and gave Adele a dirty look. “Ahem.”

  “I mean, Detective Alonzo Rice. But you can call him Al.” Adele smoothed over the suit coat that covered the area of solid muscle she’d just pinched. “I still can’t believe you got your gold shield. I’m so proud I could burst.” Her expression turned a little wistful. “I wish I could have been there when you got it.”

  This time it was Al’s turn to roll his eyes, but it was obvious he was pleased by Adele’s statement. “Aww, don’t be that way. I texted you a picture.”

  “I know. I printed it and framed it.” Adele sheepishly turned to Natalie. “I’m sorry if we were too loud. Georgia must be fit to be tied.” She gave the man a chastising look. “Al was just sharing his feelings about my ex-husband with me. Again.”

  Al’s face darkened. “What he did was—”

  Adele patted his chest as she interrupted him. “I know, Al. But it’s time for us to both move on. It’s not like I didn’t let Landry know how I felt about what he did at the time.”

  A burst of laughter escaped Al, then he winced as he pressed his thighs together, twisting a little in automatic male sympathy. “I hope his balls still hurt.”

  “Let it go, okay?” Adele dropped her voice a little below its normally, soft lilting register and volume. “Please?”

  He looked pained for a second, then resigned, as though he was wholly unable to resist Adele’s request. He groaned loudly. “Fine.”

  Natalie watched the interplay with interest. There was obvious affection between Adele and Al, but there wasn’t a scintilla of romantic or sexual tension in the way they interacted. In fact, if pressed, Natalie would have said it was closer to the way Adele appeared with Amelia or even Logan. Siblings? There was no way she was old enough to have a grown man for a son, right? She began doing the math in her head.

&nb
sp; “Al, this is Natalie Abbott.”

  The smile slid off Al’s face at the mention of Natalie’s name, one he clearly knew. He whipped his head back toward Adele. “What the hell, Ella? Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

  “Al.” Adele’s voice was all warning. “You don’t need to be more involved than you already are.”

  “What’s going on?” Natalie wondered out loud. Detective Rice wasn’t one of the policemen who questioned her about Misty’s death or even Josh’s murder.

  Adele picked up a manila folder that was resting on the wrought-iron table near her. “I asked Al to bring me the police file on Misty’s death along with the preliminary autopsy results.”

  Al crossed his thick arms over his chest, his suit strained at the shoulders. “You lied to me. I can’t believe the first time you called me, instead of just texting, in almost a year was to lie to me! You said this Misty woman was the friend of a friend and that you wanted to know what happened.”

  A single blond eyebrow lifted. “That wasn’t a lie.”

  “Ella!” He angrily scrubbed the top of his head with both hands. “You left off the part about this having to do with the Joshua Phillips murder.”

  Adele looked regretful but resolute. “It was selfish of me to call you at all, but I don’t have anyone else at the NOPD that I trust. Even so, you’re not a homicide detective, Al. You didn’t have anything to do with Josh’s case. This doesn’t concern you.”

  He appeared crushed by her words. “You concern me. I always have your back, Ella! But, what you can’t do is trick me when I do.”

  Ouch. Natalie frowned.

  Adele flinched as Al’s remark hit home. “You need to trust me, Al. You’re going places with your career. I don’t want you involved with things that will only hold you back.”

  “You mean things like you?”

  His words were met with pained silence.