by Cindy Skaggs
The silence soon filled with rumbles of voices down the hall, but Mandi stayed with the bereaved until the scent of his cologne overpowered the waxy smoke of candles. A rich, fruity blend of blackcurrant and apples. The same cologne as Maurice.
Mandi associated the smell with dishonesty, but that wasn’t the fault of the man across the aisle. In truth, the man’s military bearing stirred up memories of Danny.
Another set of voices joined the first in the hall, and she was torn between her job and keeping this man company.
He glanced across the aisle. “I understand if you need to go.” A single tear dripped from his bloodshot eyes.
Crud. The least she could do was wait until the family came from the crying room and this man had their comfort. “I can stay a few more minutes if you want the company.”
A smile lifted his lips, but his eyes were still dead. Haunted really. “You’re very kind.” He shook his head. “When Marlene died, she took something special with her. Something I see in your eyes.” His face flushed. “I’m sorry, I know this is the wrong place and wrong time, but I learned something after I got that call.” He cleared his throat. “I won’t ever miss an opportunity. I won’t put it off until tomorrow like I kept telling myself I’d call Marlene.”
His sentiment was common. The ‘I wish’ or ‘what if’ that kept the bereaved awake at night. Mandi wished she had forced Danny to talk. What if he hadn’t been so alone?
“Marlene knows how you felt,” she said. Of course Mandi couldn’t know, but she clung to the hope of an afterlife where Danny knew how much she loved and missed him. Her chest tightened.
Now she was the one so very alone.
“I’m John, by the way.”
“Mandi.” The small space was overcrowded with emotions. She stood to leave.
“Wait.” He called her back gently. “Can you meet me for coffee after?” A flush climbed his thick neck. “I need some space before I go to the reception.”
She opened her mouth, shocked by the invitation. It was definitely a first in her line of work. The no was instinctive, but John interrupted.
“Like I said, wrong time and place, I know, but life’s short.” He gestured toward the viewing room. “And you’re the best thing to happen to me in several weeks.”
This was all kinds of wrong. Unprofessional. Plus she had already made arrangements to leave town and couldn’t afford a delay, but the part of her that Maurice had bruised felt relieved that someone still wanted her.
“Sure. The all-night diner has the best coffee in town.”
His eyes misted. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be an hour after everyone leaves.” Mandi heard the crying room door open, so she turned to see to their needs. When she finally had time to check, the chapel was empty and John was already gone.
Mandi paused longer than necessary at the four-way stop in the center of town, hoping to catch a final glimpse of the man who had so sadly and awkwardly asked her to coffee. John sat on one of those red vinyl stools at the lunch counter taking up twice the space of other men. Not an ounce of fat hung on his tall frame, however. He was simply broader than most. Through the large plate glass window, under the sign for a bottomless cup of coffee, he glanced at his watch before taking another look around the local hangout. It was ten minutes after the hour, making her ten minutes late.
For the most part, the guy was nondescript with brown hair and forgettable eyes. Seriously. She couldn’t remember his eye color despite the intense focus he’d blessed her with.
He’d made it clear—said the words straight out—that he thought she was the best thing to come out of his trip to this nowhere town. The compliment soothed the burn of Maurice’s rejection. It had been a crappy few months and John’s attention gave her a much needed ego boost. Guys like him didn’t come along every day.
Tina poured him a cup of coffee, leaning forward to show off a ridiculous amount of cleavage. Mandi pressed on the gas and moved slowly through the intersection. The new guy wouldn’t be lonely for long if Tina had anything to do with it. The flirty girl had a way of turning men into super fans, but John didn’t ogle Tina’s chest. He stood and faced the window. He was taller than anyone in the diner, which gave him a clear view. Time slowed and she swore his gaze latched onto hers and flared in recognition. Her heart jumped in her chest.
She considered turning around to give Tina a run for her money but talked herself out of it as she punched up the speed on her reliable little sedan. She had a mission to accomplish this weekend, and nothing could get in her way.
Headlights pierced the black veil around the highway, spotlighting a rust-colored bluff that blew past, a blur in her peripheral vision. A crappy pickup pulled behind her, riding her bumper like he wanted to buy her a new car.
Mandi gripped the steering wheel like her life depended on it. Maybe it did. She’d been running on adrenaline and coffee for hours. The shakes kicked in when she crossed into Arizona.
It was one thing to investigate her twin brother’s death from a distance and quite another to follow like a TV detective, a bumbling one at that, but the months of not knowing ate at her. She hadn’t slept through the night since Danny’s death.
According to the police and the news, her brother had gotten into a standoff with the police in Tucson. He wasn’t crazy or a dumbass looking for attention, the two motives attributed to him in the papers. So what had really happened? Nothing about his death was right and she was taking this time to investigate the events leading up to that horrific day.
Why had he been in Tucson? Why did he have so many weapons?
The only thing she had to go on was a bank statement showing where he’d eaten and stayed all those months ago. Pressure in her lower abdomen begged for a pit stop, but the desolate landscape and the truck behind her kept her barreling down the highway. The radio turned to static, so she twisted the volume off. The silence and the high speed ramped her nerves to the stratosphere.
The truck’s aggressive tailgating burned tension into her shoulders. It made no sense this late at night in the middle of nowhere. At the next straightaway, she slowed to let the guy speed ahead, but the truck nudged closer.
“Idiot,” she muttered, glaring in the rearview mirror. She adjusted her position to relieve the pressure on her bladder when the truck tapped the trunk of her sedan. The back fishtailed, but her death grip on the wheel helped straighten it out. “Crud.”
The truck rammed her again. The force sent her slamming against the seat belt. Metal crunched. Her pulse soared. A single headlight gleamed like a madman’s wink in the rearview mirror. A yellow sign signaled a set of hairpin curves ahead. Mandi stomped on the accelerator.
At the first turn, the truck’s upper body jostled and tilted like it might roll. It slowed.
Thank God.
“Take that, jerkwad.” A nervous giggle bubbled up. It was either that or a complete meltdown. After the next turn, the one headlight vanished from the rearview mirror. The absence of the light freaked her out, because now she couldn’t see him coming. Shifting her attention forward, she drove into a wall of dust that swirled around the car like dirt in a vacuum canister. Not even her headlights pierced the dark.
Logic ordered her to wait out the dust storm, even with the crazy person behind her. Mandi let her foot off the gas and coasted to the side of the road. Surely the idiot behind her would do the same.
Smack.
A harder impact forced the car to jump. The truck flipped past her before disappearing into the storm. The crash sent the car spinning. Another impact slammed her back into the bucket seat. Mini-explosions erupted as the air bags burst. Her throat burned and chemicals seeped into her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Then nothing.
“I’m Nancy.” A blond nurse with a chipper voice breezed into the room before the sun. “You’re at a hospital in Tucson,” she said. “Do you remember the accident?”
Mandi nodded, and pain zipped up her spine to land in the base of her s
kull. Okay. Moving was bad. “How long?” she asked, but her voice came out an unintelligible groan.
The nurse continued to chatter. “You were in an accident last night, and a doozy of one if you ask me. The EMT took pictures. You were luc-ky,” she said in a sing-song voice. “Oh, and your brother came to visit earlier this morning. That man is some serious eye candy if you don’t mind my saying. Put a little giddy-up in my step and it’s not even seven.”
At the mention of her brother, tears burned Mandi’s eyes. Her only brother had died months ago. “You must have me confused...” She started to speak, but it came out a harsh rasp.
“Give it a minute. We had to intubate you. The airbags saved your life, but they can lead to respiratory problems. Try this.” She handed Mandi a cup of water. “The doctor wants a CT scan this morning before he’ll release you. He’ll be along shortly to give you the details.” The nurse checked the machines and made a note in an electronic chart. “Plus there’s a deputy waiting for you to wake up. Three men—good-looking ones too—all set to see you this morning. Like I said. Lucky girl.”
Every muscle, every hair follicle ached. She didn’t feel lucky. Mandi leaned forward to sip from the straw. The water eased the tightness, but her throat still burned. She pointed to her neck. “Talking might be a problem.”
“Here.” The nurse handed over a Dixie cup with a lozenge inside. “It’s medicated. It should soothe the throat irritation so you can answer the deputy’s questions.”
“Doubtful.” A pain throbbed over her shoulder and across her chest. Her eyes burned, her throat was raw, all because some loser in a pickup didn’t bother to slow down.
“You caused quite a stir last night, let me tell you. Miracle anyone saw you so far off the highway. Straight miracle,” she affirmed. “You’re not from around here, because everyone knows you pull off to the side of the road and wait out a dust storm.”
“Tried.” Mandi sucked on the strange-tasting lozenge, but it didn’t help the burning tightness in her throat. A man in uniform stepped into the room and he wasn’t the kind that snuck in while you weren’t paying attention. He had a commanding presence, despite his height deficit. In fact the nurse was taller.
Mandi cleared her throat and tried to sit up, but the hospital gown stuck to her back and pulled to strangle her. She kept her attention on the officer. “What happened to the guy who hit me?”
“That’s the question of the day.” The deputy wore the beige and brown uniform like a second skin, showing off narrow shoulders and hips. An aura of power emanated from him that didn’t come from the uniform. “There was no driver in the truck we found thirty yards from your wreck. Are you sure it was a he?”
“Drove like a maniac.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Could he have been thrown on impact?”
“We have a team out looking now that the storm has passed. Should be able to find him in the daylight. Walk me through what happened.”
Mandi asked the nurse to adjust the bed before going over the details of the accident. The information was sparse and her mind wandered while she talked. The deputy didn’t write anything down. He listened and nodded and stood there looking beautiful. Could a man be beautiful? Silky black hair, high cheekbones, and eyes like a doe. No wedding ring. Definitely beautiful, except for the tall flat forehead that balanced his good looks with strength. She took a sip of water. “What did you say your name was?” she blurted. She had zero social skills. This is what happened when you spent too much time with dead people.
“We’ve been through this before.”
“We have?” Had he really already give her his name? Maybe there were still pain meds in her system. “I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten.”
The thin line of his lips turned down. “Deputy Chee, ma’am. From the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department.”
“Ma’am?” Her voice screeched as she said the word. Nothing said not interested like calling someone ma’am. She probably looked like death warmed over. Not that it mattered. The good-looking deputy was out of her league. Plus she’d come here to find information about her brother’s death, not flirt with a man she’d probably never see again. “Cochise County. Does that mean you’re not from Tucson?”
“No, ma’am. The incident occurred on I-10 just this side of the New Mexico border.”
“That’s good,” she said blankly. If he was from another county then he probably wasn’t one of the men who had shot her brother down in the middle of a public street.
“Your driver’s license and plates are from Colorado. Do you mind telling me what you were doing on the highway last night?”
“Getting run over by an idiot in a pickup.”
“And before that?”
“Driving.”
“And why were you driving on the highway so far from home?” His lips turned up slightly. “Ma’am.”
Her heart accelerated from his smile. “I planned to spend the weekend in Tucson.” To get answers. Mandi wiggled to scooch higher on the bed. Muscles groaned. Or maybe that was her.
“Are you okay?”
“I was in an accident last night.”
“So I heard.” This time his smile made the heart monitor accelerate. “Who were you going to spend the weekend with?”
The deputy was trying to find answers relating to her trip, but Mandi didn’t want to mention her brother’s ... situation. “I was planning to visit an old friend. Do you know what happened to my car?”
“Impounded. I’ll need your friend’s contact information for our records.”
“Why?” She didn’t want a record of her trip to visit Glen. He was breaking more than a few rules to get the records she needed. “I mean, it was just an accident.”
“The driver of the other vehicle has yet to be found.”
“Well, I am positive that my friend wasn’t out on the highway with me, so his name isn’t relevant.”
This time, the deputy did pull out a notepad. “Is your friend married?
“You think I’m down here for a hookup with a married man?” The deputy’s tone hit a nerve. She mashed the button to lift the bed to a fully upright position. When she spoke, her tone edged toward sarcastic. “Honey, I’m not that hard up.”
“No offense intended, ma’am. I’m trying to get a complete picture of what happened.”
“Offense taken.” The pulse in her temple pounded to the same tempo as the beep-beep of the machine. She rubbed her forehead as she spoke. “I’m not the kind of girl who needs to hide a relationship.” Not after Maurice. “Where’s my car?”
He wrote the tow company’s contact information on a paper he set on the bedside table. “You can retrieve your personal effects any time, but the car is totaled.”
“Fantastic.” Between Danny’s burial costs and Ellie’s treatments, she was flat broke. This little trip was the last of the petty cash and part of next month’s house payment. Her throat closed against tears and frustration. The investigation was supposed to answer questions, not put her further behind. On top of that, she was ten hours from home. “How—” A coughing fit stopped her. She tried to catch her breath and swallowed the lozenge. The deputy handed her a water cup. She sucked it back until the burning in her throat cooled. “How am I supposed to get home?”
“Your brother drove to Tucson this morning. I’m sure the nurse told you.” He glanced up when the doctor entered the room. “Did she hit her head?”
“That’s what I’m here to assess.” A man wearing a white doctor’s frock stepped the rest of the way into the room. He was tall and lean, with blond hair that moved like a constant breeze blew just for him. As if he was entitled to perpetual attention from Mother Nature herself. “I’m Dr. Simpson. I was the on-call doctor when they brought you in.”
The two men were polar opposites in appearance. Strong, dark, and sexy versus blond and charming with a lean build and a toothpaste-ad smile. She’d have to be dead not to notice, but the surface attraction was easy to ignore. Didn’t mean
she couldn’t look. Right?
The deputy frowned when the doctor asked him to leave, but he left without a fuss. She took a relaxing breath. “I don’t suppose you have a Tylenol in your pocket?”
The doctor glanced down with a softer, warmer smile than the deputy, but no less devastating. “I’ll have the nurse bring you something. Did she tell you what happened?”
“She said you intubated me?”
“You came in cyanotic with chemical burns to the face and neck.” He ran down a list of medical terminology that Mandi tuned out until he flashed a bright light in her eyes. “A woman zoning out is a sign of a concussion.” He smiled with his perfect white teeth. “Or I’m not as charming as I like to believe.”
His charming self grated on her nerves. Maybe she was worse off than she thought. “Sorry. I’m just trying to figure things out. How long am I in for?”
“I want to do a CT scan which can happen as soon as the nurse arranges someone to take you up to radiology. Air bags save lives, but the pressure and chemicals released on impact can occasionally cause inflammation in the lungs leading to breathing difficulties. Once I see that your lungs are clear, your brother can take you home.”
“What’s with the brother thing?” The phantom brother rubbed at the grief she barely kept hidden. “I don’t have a brother.”
“Come on, sis. I know we’ve had our problems, but I can’t ignore you when I find out you’re in the hospital.”
The man walking through the door looked like her brother on steroids. Taller than the doctor and wider than the deputy, he had a presence that was impossible to ignore. His stiff stance and fierce expression screamed warrior, but it was the split lip and bruises on his face that sent her shrinking into the mattress. No one would consider this man beautiful. Rugged, maybe. Intense for a fact. A man like that promised swift, definitive action.
Mandi shook her head as he approached the bed. “You’re not—”
“Doctor, would you excuse us for a moment?”
