Poison Me

by Checketts, Cami

  Michael was ninety-seven percent sure the mouth behind this speech belonged to Ellie. He rounded his shoulders and bent his knees, praying he was hidden behind the large potted plant.

  “Maybe she isn’t interested in him anymore,” came the response in what could only be Marissa’s voice.

  No, you’re wrong, Marissa. Of course Ruby’s still interested in me, Michael wanted to scream. He prayed Ruby’s friend was mistaken.

  “Bull. How could she not be? I know we’re hamming it up with pretending to want Michael, but if he didn’t love Ruby, I really would be staking down my man.”

  Marissa chuckled. “Staking him down to what?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Grateful the women couldn’t see him, Michael rolled his eyes.

  “It’s been so long since Michael and Ruby were in love,” Marissa said with a sigh. “I’m afraid Ruby’s lost any feelings she had for him.”

  Michael’s chest thumped painfully.

  Ellie slammed her hand against some object. “Pay attention to her face the next time he walks in a room. She’s denying her feelings, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

  Relaxing against the wall, Michael felt weak with relief. Ellie thought Ruby cared for him. It wasn’t an invitation from Ruby, but it was enough to keep him going. He needed Ruby to love him the way he’d loved her since second grade. He could still picture her dark braids, her eyes sparkling at him, her mouth laughing over anything he said.

  Michael stretched his right leg out and rubbed at the knee that had one too many replacement parts. He could still picture the day Ruby stopped laughing at him. Graduation night—the night she told him she was pregnant. He’d been so shocked. He’d acted like a jerk, said he was too young for a baby. She ran away from him with tears streaming down her exquisite face. Like an imbecile, he didn’t follow her.

  Ruby wouldn’t speak to him after that night. She refused his calls and always managed to escape when he tried to chase her down. Michael shouted through more women’s bathroom doors than any prideful man should ever have to.

  Several weeks passed. Michael was in agony without her by his side. One afternoon as he pounded on her front door yet another time, her mom opened the door to him. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Hammond,” he said, stumbling over his words. “I’ve hurt Ruby and I didn’t mean to.”

  Ruby’s mother shook her head. “Oh, Michael.”

  “I know, I know. I’ve got to apologize. I’ve got to make her understand how much I love her. Is she here?” He searched over the woman’s shoulder, praying for a glimpse of his love, ready to force his way into her home if necessary. “Please let me talk to her, Mrs. Hammond. Please.”

  Her mother’s face was distorted and stained with tears. “Ruby’s gone, Michael.”

  His gut twisted. “Gone? Where did she—”

  Ruby’s mother held up a wet handkerchief. “I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen.” She paused and looked at him, as if gauging his strength. “She ran away with Don Merrill.”

  Michael’s legs crumpled and he collapsed, right there on Ruby’s front steps. Her mom called the paramedics, but they couldn’t help him. They sent him home from the hospital with sympathetic glances, but nothing that could stop his pain.

  The next time he saw Ruby, she was on Don’s arm and very pregnant. Michael had been the one to hide that day. He ran into a craft store, waiting behind bolts of cloth until the couple walked past, continuing down the sidewalk. When Michael finally dared venture into daylight, he caught a wisp of Ruby’s sweet lavender and vanilla scent. She and Don were half a block away, but Michael could still hear her tinkling laughter. The sound broke his heart. She was laughing at something Don said. Michael stumbled to his car, praying that someday the ache would recede.

  Now, Michael shoved an enormous leaf away from his face. It still felt like someone had slugged him in the gut when he pictured Don touching Ruby. Yet Michael had never revealed her secret—their secret. He loved her too much to do that. He eased himself out of his hiding spot; he didn’t need to listen to Ellie and Marissa anymore. There was hope of Ruby loving him again.

  And suddenly hope was standing in front of him. He stopped and breathed, “Ruby.”

  Her shoulders straightened. “What are you doing hiding behind a plant?”

  “Oh, I…” Michael stammered. “I was checking to see if I need to prune it.”

  “You prune the inside plants as well as the garden?” She arched her eyebrows.

  “Sure. Whatever I can do to help out.”

  She moved to walk around him. Emboldened by what he’d just heard, Michael clasped his fingers around her arm. Her skin was heaven underneath his fingertips. “Ruby,” he said, his voice suddenly deeper.

  She blinked at his fingers, then at him. The creamy skin of her throat rippled as she swallowed. “Yes, Michael?”

  She had called him by his first name. Maybe she was warming up. “Could I… that is, could we… maybe go into town sometime and maybe…”

  Ellie and Marissa came around the corner, giggling and whispering. They stopped short at the sight before them. “Well, it is blasted time,” Ellie said.

  Ruby escaped from Michael’s grasp and joined her friends. “I’ve been looking for you two.”

  “No,” Ellie said. “You did not just disentangle yourself from that fine man and scurry over here.”

  “Yes, I did,” Ruby whispered, venturing a glance in his direction.

  “Woman, you have got to get it together.” Ellie stalked away from Ruby. “Let’s go, Marissa.” Marissa lifted her head and followed. They were almost past Michael when he heard Ellie whisper, “If it sends me to my grave I’m going to wake that woman up.”

  Ruby watched them go, her bottom lip protruding slightly.

  Michael crossed the distance between them. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends.” And he was sorry, but the possibility of Ellie reuniting them had him fighting back a grin.

  Ruby exhaled softly and fixed her posture. “You’re fine. Ellie is just being… silly.”

  Silly or not, Ellie was now his best friend. Michael nodded and bent down close to Ruby’s ear, inhaling the perfect softness of lavender and vanilla. “We were speaking earlier about doing something together…” He let the words dangle with possibility.

  “Sorry.” Ruby tossed her head and scooted around him. “Maybe some other time.”

  Michael stood, gazing at her backside. Just before she turned the corner, she darted a glance at him. He sighed heavily. It seemed he was always watching Ruby walk away from him.

  ***

  Jake and Chanel meandered along a private beach at Glendale Reservoir. The oblong lake was gaining popularity with water-skiers and wakeboarders. This was supposed to be Jake’s private sanctuary, and the crowds annoyed him.

  He didn’t tell Chanel that his family owned the stretch of beach they were on and the beautiful three-story cabin towering over the water. This lake was his favorite spot. Water-skiing, swimming, roasting hot dogs around a fire at night—he loved it all. As a teenager, he’d spent more time at the cabin or Grandma Ruby’s comfortable house than he ever did at his parents’ mansion. Not that his parents had been around enough to notice or care. Grandma Ruby had essentially raised him and Brinley while his parents toured the world, flitting from one humanitarian project to the next.

  Jake was at peace on the lake, comforted by the familiar smell of wet dirt and sun-bleached rocks. He’d brought Chanel here after dinner to try to assuage his memories of Angela. This was one of the few spots in Preston where her image didn’t torment him. Even though he and his high school sweetheart had been almost inseparable the year before her death, he’d never brought her here because she was terrified of water. He scowled. Angela had been afraid of a lot of things, and instead of protecting her, he’d…

  Forcing himself to quit reminiscing, he skipped a rock across the rippling water. Chanel seemed
impressed when the rock skidded along the surface for a while before sinking. Jake tried to forget the expression on Chanel’s face when he’d caught her looking at Angela’s obituary. Just seeing that picture brought back all the misery of losing her.

  “Where did you grow up?” he asked.

  “Everywhere.”

  Jake tossed a large rock. The water splashed onto Chanel’s ankles. She jumped and laughed. “Sorry about that,” he said, smiling.

  “Sure you are.”

  She turned to look at him with those big eyes framed with long lashes. She was beautiful. He was drawn to her in a way he couldn’t explain, but that didn’t mean he was ready to forget Angela. Looking away, he threw a perfect skipping rock—hard. The water consumed it with a splash. “You grew up everywhere?” You’re okay. Keep it casual, buddy. “Any specific spots?”

  “Mostly in the United States.”

  “That narrows it down.”

  Chanel smiled but didn’t explain.

  “Why’d you leave Vegas?”

  She shrugged. “Needed a change.”

  “Leave anybody there pining for you?”

  She twisted a broad silver and onyx ring on her index finger. “Nobody special.”

  “Uh-huh,” Jake said. Angela’s face faded in his head as he watched Chanel walk next to him, her dark hair trailing across her left shoulder and past her chest. “What was your favorite thing to do in Vegas?”

  She dragged her toe through the sand. “Anything outside, except in the summer when it was 110.”

  “Least favorite?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jake chuckled. “Do you work on being ambiguous, or is it a gift?”

  Chanel stopped and turned to stare at him. “Do you always drill your dates?”

  “This a date?’

  “Well, I don’t know. I thought…” She started rubbing her birthmark.

  Jake took her hand in his. Her fingers were smooth and long, and he liked touching her. “I’m just teasing you. If you want it to be a date, that’s fine by me.” He swallowed hard. He could count on one hand the dates he’d actually enjoyed since Angela’s death. “Since you asked me out, I guess I should’ve made you buy dinner.”

  Chanel laughed. “And I thought Ellie raised you to be a gentleman.”

  “Not many of those left these days.”

  Chanel pursed her lips and squinted at the sun sparkling on the water. “No, there aren’t.”

  His eyebrows lifted. Beautiful girl. Fun personality. Closed up. Resentful. Interesting. “So, you didn’t answer my question. Actually, you didn’t answer any of them. You don’t like twenty questions on a first date?”

  Her cheeks flared red and her birthmark darkened. Dang, he liked that birthmark and her eyes. Physically, she was Angela’s complete opposite, yet she seemed to have the kind of caring heart that made him love Angela so much.

  Chanel shaded her eyes from the sun. “I’ll answer a couple of questions.”

  “A couple?”

  She held up two fingers. “That’s it. Since you’re dying for info.” She lifted the hair from her neck and used it to fan herself from the heat.

  Jake watched the dark swath of hair falling through her fingertips. “Mighty kind of you.”

  “I’m just nice like that.” She smiled.

  He stroked her fingers. “What did you do in Vegas?”

  “I was an activities director.”

  “For an old folks’ home?”

  She ducked her head. “Not exactly.”

  Jake clucked his tongue, raising their clasped hands to her chin and tilting her gaze to meet his. “You’re doing it again.”

  “Being ambiguous?”

  “Sweetheart, you are definitely ambiguous.” Jake could’ve bit his tongue. He hadn’t used an endearment with anyone but his grandma or sister since Angela. He released Chanel’s hand and bent down to grab a smooth rock. He hurled it into the lake, but it didn’t skip.

  Chanel studied a boat and water-skier skimming by on the glossy water. Jake wanted to smack himself in the head for embarrassing both of them. “So, you didn’t work at an old folks’ home in Vegas. Where were you the activities director?”

  The skier cut, and a wall of water streamed into the air. Chanel focused on the opposite shoreline, biting her lip. Her eyes met his for a moment, but then she jammed her hands into her pockets and looked at the water. “Bally’s.”

  “Whoa.” Jake arched an eyebrow.

  Chanel smirked. “Impressed?”

  “Definitely,” he said. They started walking again, but he didn’t take her hand. “Bally’s. I like it. Rolling with the rich and famous.”

  “Sometimes. Mostly it was flirting with career gamblers and planning day trips for older people.” She smiled. “Great preparation for the Cub River Retirement Palace.” She said the words with mocking tenderness.

  “You’re good with Grandma and her gaggle.”

  Chanel’s eyes lit up. “Thanks. I love those ladies. They make dealing with Jennalou and her sort a lot easier.”

  “So, why did you leave Vegas?”

  Chanel stopped walking, and her mouth tightened. “I needed a break from the idiots.” She slipped off her sandals, tossed them up the beach a few feet, and waded into the water up to her knees. She kicked some water in his direction. “Come on in. It feels great.”

  Jake’s heart clutched—Chanel wasn’t afraid of water. “Guess question and vague answer period is over?” he said.

  Chanel bent down, scooped up some cool water, and tossed it at him. He caught a mouthful. Spitting, he charged in after her. She laughed and tried to dodge away. The water held her back, but she managed to load her hands and catch him in the face with another handful. The water didn’t slow him down. He dove for her like a linebacker sacking the quarterback.

  Her gasp of surprise was cut off by the lake closing in over both of their heads. She came up sputtering. Jake pulled her close, catching his breath in the waist-deep water. She placed both hands on his head and tried to wrestle him under.

  “Not a smart move.” He twisted and dunked her again. Her hair and face glistened as he lifted her from the water. Tilting back her head, she laughed out loud, and Jake joined in. A pang of sadness struck him, he had never been able to do something like this with Angela. They’d missed out on a lot because of her fears.

  Suddenly, Chanel’s eyes widened. She broke his grip and struggled to her feet, then aimed for the shoreline. “My cell phone!”

  Jake followed her, chuckling. He pulled his own phone from his pants and held it up. “Sorry. Guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  She yanked her phone from her pocket and shook it for a minute, then tossed it onto the beach with a disgusted sigh.

  “I’m betting it’s dead,” he said.

  Sticking out her tongue, she squeezed her dripping hair onto his shoulder. “I can’t believe you did that,” she muttered.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry about the phone.”

  Her eyes trailed over his clinging shirt, then slowly lifted to meet his gaze. “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” She lunged at him, knocking him off his feet and burying both of them in the shallow water.

  ***

  Ace pulled up the collar of his polo shirt. It hid a tattoo on his neck that could identify him to the policeman standing next to him at the Atlanta Airport.

  The cop glanced his way. “Boise your final landing spot?” he asked like they were old buddies.

  Ace forced a smile. “I hope so. Going to Preston to meet my girlfriend’s family. Planning to get a construction job, settle down, and make babies.” There was a short silence. “What about you?” Ace asked, feigning interest.

  “I’m from Nampa. I’ve been at a conference down this way.” The officer grinned. “Now I getta go home to my wife and babies.”

  “Nice.” Ace nodded, wishing the policeman would get to his wife and stay away from him.

  “Why are you flying into Boise? Salt Lake
is probably a shorter drive to Preston and would save you an extra flight.”

  Ace silently cursed Willy. Why had he let him make travel arrangements? “Better price to fly into Boise.”

  “Huh.”

  Thankfully, seconds later the cop grunted a goodbye and headed toward a recently vacated bench in the waiting area. Ace rushed down the hallway and into the closest restroom, hoping his seat on the plane wasn’t near the cop’s. He searched the restroom, and when he was sure it was empty except for his partner, he rapped on the last stall.

  “Okay, Willy,” Ace said. “Come on out, but don’t get on the plane until everyone else has boarded. You’re in the third row from the front, so as long as you sneak into your seat and don’t get up for any reason we should be okay.”

  “All right,” Willy said through the door.

  Ace drummed his fingers against the metal stall. “Just so you know, there’s a cop on our flight. Pull your hat down low, and don’t forget those glasses I bought you.”

  “I got it, Ace.” Willy flushed the toilet and opened the stall door. “You sure this is worth it?”

  Ace backed up a step. “Following the old man?”

  “Yeah.” Willy looked Ace in the eye for a brief moment.

  Ace turned to catch his reflection in the mirror. His spiked blond hair looked perfect, a great contrast to the tan he’d deepened while on the cruise ship. Too bad they were deserting the coast and any sign of beaches and women. They were going to have to lay low in small-town Idaho until they found Don and got some money out of the weasel. “The old man was loaded, or at least his son was loaded.”

  Willy walked over to the sink and squeezed a puff of soap onto his hands. “But how do we know he’s going to be with his son?”

  Ace rolled his eyes. “He was running out of money. What do you do when that happens? You go to the gravy train.”

  “But how are we going to get any money out of him?” Willy rubbed his hands under the water, squinting at himself in the mirror.

  “How is it you’re some bad boy with warrants out for your arrest and you think like a schoolgirl?”

  Willy’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser.