“How’s he holding up?”
The question was about his health, but Sheila’s glance expressed something more intimate.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, honey. It’s fine.” She placed a placating hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “He’s a man. His greatest fear is not being able to…get up with…” She gestured briefly with her fingers to her pants. The naked expression of fear and resignation on Sheila’s face brought tears to Bonnie’s eyes. She sniffed in an effort to collect herself.
“We’re okay. We are.” Sheila placed the heel of her hand on one eye then the other. “He knows the most important thing is living, but to live without….” Her voice died away.
Bonnie reached an arm across her friend’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be. These kinds of things, they show you what’s important. Really important, and I’d live a life of a monk if only I could sit across the breakfast table each morning and look at Robby Evans’ face for the next fifty years.” She stepped away from her friend’s embrace. “You’re sweet to ask about him.”
“You’ll let me know, won’t you, if I can do anything for you?”
“Of course.”
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor, and the women walked into the hallway. The cafeteria was just a few feet ahead. They entered the double doors and perused the selections. With her lunch bag and a fountain drink on a tray, Bonnie followed Sheila a few minutes later across the large dining area to a rectangular table their friends had claimed. Rita waved them over.
They sat, placing their food on the table.
Alicia eyed them critically. “You guys look like somebody shot your dog.”
Bonnie could always count on Alicia’s lack of tact.
Sheila took it with a grain of salt. “I was just telling Bonnie that I’d rather have Robby here without sex, then not have him at all.”
“Aww, Sheila,” Rita breathed. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, hopefully it’s not permanent. It bothers Robby though.”
“It wouldn’t bother me. I find sex to be a chore.”
“Alicia!” Rita’s eyes went wide.
“Well, I do. Ted and I can get in the biggest fight right before bed, then he starts rooting around like the pig that he is. But I tell him, ‘If you’re mad at my face, then you’re mad at my tail.’”
“That’s brutal,” Bonnie said.
“Hey, you’re divorced. You don’t have to put up with your husband wanting sex after you’ve worked all day here, then put in another six hours at home taking care of the house and kids.”
“Yeah, charmed life right here. Divorced with three children.”
“Seriously, Bonnie. Do you miss the sex?”
“If she ever decided to try to date again, she wouldn’t have to miss it,” Sheila counseled.
Bonnie watched her hand holding the spoon stirring her yogurt. “I’m too busy with my life to worry about such things.”
“Can’t a man be part of your life?” Sheila asked.
“Where is a man going to fit in with my life? I work, and when I leave here, I have three people depending on me to feed, clothe, love, and guide them. Even if a man fell in my lap, he’d have to love my kids. I can barely get Guy to take an interest in them, and he’s their father. Why in the world would some man take on a ready-made family just to be with me?”
“Because you’re awesome,” Rita declared.
Bonnie shot Rita a direct stare. Rita was always the cheerleader—rooting for the team even when they were losing without any hope of coming back in the fourth quarter. “I’m forty-one years old with children. Statistically, I’m more likely to be struck by lightning than I am to settle down with another husband.”
The women sitting around the table were silent. Finally, Bonnie lifted her gaze to them.
Sheila was the first to speak. “If you stand under a tree during a thunderstorm, it’s pretty easy to get struck by lightning.”
“And why get married again anyway? I tell you, if anything ever happens to Ted, I’m going to paint this town so red, people’s going to think it’s the Apocalypse.”
“This coming from the woman who just said sex is a chore.”
“Sex is a chore after I’ve cooked dinner, picked up Ted’s dirty clothes, and cleaned the house.”
“There’s your problem. Make him pick up his own clothes.”
“He’s a pig.”
“He’s a cop. How does he feel about you calling him a pig?” Rita asked.
“He’s a pig because he won’t pick up anything. He’d wear a dirty smelly shirt before he’d even think about washing it.”
Bonnie noticed she’d forgotten a napkin. She glanced around the table and didn’t see any extras. She stood up. “I’m going to get a few napkins. Anybody need anything?”
“More napkins sound great. I haven’t spilled anything on my shirt yet, so I’m overdue,” Alicia stated.
Bonnie walked to the sidebar and pulled napkins out of the dispenser. Walking back toward their table, she saw Tony Meadows from her department rise from a table with his paper bag lunch and head toward the exit. Sitting at the same table, but on the other end directly behind the divider where Bonnie and her group were was….
Bonnie stopped short.
Brandt Sherrod had the blue-plate special in front of him and was staring intently at his cell phone. He punched the screen with his index finger as if he were texting.
Why was he here?
Chapter Five
Bonnie continued on to her table, uncomfortably aware he could probably hear everything she and her friends were saying.
Had said.
She sat down at the table.
“Bonnie,” Rita said. “We think you need to cut loose and just go out with us, and we’ll find you a cute guy to dance with and—”
Alicia interrupted. “A younger guy.”
“Shh.” Bonnie glared at them.
“Why? Don’t you think—”
Bonnie leaned forward. “There’s a man back there. I don’t want him hearing anything.”
All three of them craned their heads to peer over the divider.
“Stop!” Bonnie hissed.
“Who is it?” Sheila asked.
“It’s someone I’m involved with in a—”
“You’re involved with somebody!” Rita crowed.
“No. Be quiet, would you? A case. A beneficiaries case. He’s…” Bonnie shook her head.
Alicia jumped up and trounced off toward the napkins. Bonnie reached to grab her, but the woman was too fast.
“Oh, darn it. I want to see too,” Rita complained.
Alicia came back with an angry expression on her face. “What is this, a joke? The table’s empty.”
“What? No. The table right behind us.” Bonnie stood and peeked over the divider. The table was empty. She scanned the room. He was at the self-service bar refilling his drink. “Oh,” she said. “There he is.” She sat back down, and the rest of the women all turned their heads in unison to see him.
“Oh, my gosh, he’s good-looking. Why aren’t you having lunch with him?”
“Because you asked me first.”
“What!” Rita reared back. “He asked you to lunch?”
“Look. He just appears and disappears. It’s kind of creepy.”
“If that’s what creepy looks like, I want creepy too.”
“No, you don’t. You think it’s an accident he just shows up here?”
“You think he’s stalking you?”
Bonnie raised an eyebrow at the people sitting around her. “He was sitting directly behind us. What do you think?”
“Go talk to him.”
“Yeah, don’t let him get away with it.”
“Hurry. Before he disappears.”
Bonnie huffed. Her friends were trying to set her up with a creepy stalker. So what if he was good looking? She scooted back her chair and walked over to where he stood at the kitch
en window placing his tray and dishes in the return. He turned and met her eyes as if he knew she had been behind him.
“Hello, Ms. Moore.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Having lunch.”
“You’re following me.”
“I was actually here first. I called you, and when you refused, I bought lunch and sat down. It seems you are following me.”
“You don’t have any business here except with me.”
He nodded and reached behind him. Pulling out his wallet, he opened it, slid a card out of a sleeve, and offered it to her.
“What’s that?” she asked suspiciously.
“Proof.”
She peered at it. She didn’t have her glasses, but from this distance it appeared to be a driver’s license. She snorted. “Right. I bet it’s fake.”
“Well.” He shrugged. “No, actually that one’s real.” He gestured her to take it, but she didn’t.
“Why did you ditch the security guards?”
He placed the license back in his wallet and pocketed it. “Because I had no ID and couldn’t prove who I was. What would be the point of wasting my time and theirs?”
“They wasted their time looking for you. What you did was rude and very unprofessional.”
He bit his lip in mirth. “I guess it depends on one’s profession.”
“There’s no such thing as a ninja. That’s ridiculous.”
“Okay.” His tone expressed he found her proclamation amusing.
Bonnie put her hands on her hips. “Did you want to meet with me?”
His eyes flicked to her hands then back to her face. He nodded.
She dropped her hands and straightened her spine. Why did he make her feel so…aware of herself? Every posture and stance? “Fine. I’ll be available at one o’clock. Do not go to my office. I don’t like you creeping around in secure locations. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
He wisely did not comment about how unsecure the secure locations were.
“Oh, forget it. You made me lose my appetite. Let’s just go now and get this over with.”
“May I have a few minutes? I want to get one more thing from the self-serve bar.”
“Fine. I’ll get my stuff and meet you in the lobby.” She pivoted and marched over to where all three of her friends were watching, their heads visible above the divider. Rolling her eyes at their antics, Bonnie approached the table and began gathering her lunch.
“Don’t say anything. He’s a benefits case.”
“I wouldn’t mind taking advantage of his benefits,” Alicia commented.
“For someone who thinks sex is a chore, you sure got a saucy mouth.”
“Where are you going? Are you going to eat with him?” Rita asked. She clapped her hands enthusiastically.
Alicia grabbed at Bonnie’s lunch bag. “Make him buy you lunch. Geez, he just dropped a few points if you’ve got to provide your own food.”
Bonnie pulled her bag out of her friend’s reach. “I’m not eating with him. I’m meeting with him so I can hopefully get this case resolved.”
Sheila’s head whipped around. “Where did he go? I didn’t see him leave.”
“See what I mean about him? He needs a bell hung around his neck.”
“And speaking of hung—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Bonnie growled. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. I’ll see you all later.”
Bonnie strode across the room and pushed open the door. She noted he wasn’t in the lobby yet. She claimed a spot in the corner where she could see all three entrances to the lobby. He wasn’t going to sneak up on her.
In a few minutes a small group of people exited from the direction of the cafeteria. Her eyes skimmed them before jumping to other door. But her skin on the back of her neck prickled, and her attention returned to the group.
Brandt meandered on the periphery. He was good at blending, even as attractive as he was. When he broke away from the group, his countenance changed. He walked taller, and his eyes focused.
On her.
Bonnie’s heart thumped hard in her chest, and she lost her breath for a second.
What is wrong with me?
He was a liar and possibly a thief. He was too smooth and too arrogant.
And much too attractive.
Gone was the suit he had worn when she’d first met him. Today he wore a pinstriped shirt and dark pants. No tie. He dressed like most of the other male state employees, but none of the other male employees made her knees feel like goo. The Styrofoam cup he had been carrying was gone. Now he held a white take-out bag, and Bonnie wondered what was in there.
The corner of his lips crooked upward, and Bonnie realized she was staring.
Fine. She had the right to stare at him in case he tried to pull something. She raised her arm and indicated that he should go toward the elevator.
“Ladies first,” he said.
“I don’t think so. You go first so I can keep an eye on you.”
He bent his head in acquiescence, turned and walked toward the shiny doors. Bonnie noted his broad shoulders under the wrinkle-free shirt.
Obviously he took his shirts to the dry-cleaners. No one could have a shirt that crisp and line free without commercial starch. She sniffed and detected a sweet aroma, which reminded her of the tobacco her grandfather had smoked in his pipe.
Did Brandt smoke a pipe? How odd. She didn’t know men under seventy did that kind of thing.
He pressed the up button, and they stood there for a moment. A hundred questions ricocheted through her head. How had he slipped away from Steve and Luke? How had he known she’d gotten into Mrs. Tackett’s computer? How had he acquired a custodian uniform, and had he only done it to try to get the beneficiary money?
A bell sounded, and the doors slid open. Brandt walked in and turned around to face the opening. He wore a smug smile on his face as he watched her follow him. She positioned herself in front of the buttons and pressed the correct number. When the doors closed, the room immediately closed in on her.
They were alone in this tiny space.
The sweet aroma she’d detected earlier lingered in the air. She inhaled, enjoying the familiar scent of her granddad. They’d sit on the front porch at his house in the dusk of the day. He on his chair, and her on the swing pushing her feet back and forth until the blinking of the lightning bugs drew her into the yard. Oh, the fun of catching them in the empty mayonnaise jar her granny provided. Then later she’d lie in bed and watch the multitude of blinking lights encased in the glass. Sometimes on the cusp of sleep, she’d detect the sweet tobacco scent of Granddad as he entered the room, picked up the jar, bent down and kissed her forehead goodnight, then took the jar outside to set the bugs free so they could continue their luminary courtship on into the night. The tender memories warmed Bonnie in spite of her present suspicions of the man with her.
“Do you smoke, Mr. Sherrod?”
“Do I smoke what, Ms. Moore?”
His low words spoken close to her ear almost made her jump. He’d moved after she turned to face the doors. She glanced over her shoulder and found him standing there. She stepped away and pivoted toward him.
“I smell pipe tobacco.”
“Really?” He sniffed. “I believe I do as well.”
“So, it’s not you?”
His brown gaze dropped before meeting hers. “Does it offend you?”
“No, actually. I…appreciate the aroma. I haven’t smelled anything like it in a long time.”
“Ah.” He nodded.
The motion of the elevator ceased, and the doors swooshed open onto her floor. She didn’t move. For a few seconds, he didn’t either. She folded her arms across her chest and crooked her head toward the door.
Go.
He did, strolling across the wide space and toward her office in that nonchalant way he had, as if he belonged here.
Bonnie trailed him until she reache
d her office door. Stepping in front of him, she slid her badge across the lock. Since she’d discovered him in her office, she’d started locking the door. She didn’t have to look behind her to know he was still there. Every one of her senses knew it—all five standing at attention, even her sense of taste, as memory receptors from childhood reminded her of the time she’d chewed on one of granddad’s tobacco leaves. The buzzy sensation had gone to her head.
She opened the door and took her place behind her desk. She needed to put something between them—a barrier. “Sit down, please.” She grabbed the folder from the drawer where she kept current open cases, and set it down in front of her.
“May I see your identification?”
With one hand, he moved the chair closer to her desk. Great. They’d be all cozy across from each other. He reached behind him for his wallet, and Bonnie purposely looked away. No sense in ruminating on how his slacks fit so well on his hips or the kind of belt buckle he had, or… Nope. No sense in thinking any of that. She scanned her desktop for her cheaters but didn’t see them. Pulling out the wide middle drawer of her desk, she didn’t see them there either.
He slid the license across the desktop toward her.
She picked it up and held it reading distance, squinting for a better view.
A pair of reading glasses appeared in front of her, and Bonnie lifted her gaze to them then to the man who held them.
The smirky expression she expected wasn’t there. Instead, she recognized the resignation of being forty and not being able to read small print without aid.
“How long have you needed glasses?” he asked.
“Two months after my fortieth birthday.” She pinched the stem and glanced through the lenses briefly before sliding them on her face.
The plastic frames felt warm against her skin.
Don’t think about it.
The letters came into focus.
“How about you?” she asked.
“About six months ago. I was almost captured in Kazakhstan because I couldn’t see the fine print.”
“What?” She watched him over the lenses. “On one of your spy missions, I suppose. You couldn’t read the instructions on the side of a bomb?” She turned back to his license. Running her thumb and fingers over it, she judged it to feel authentic. Reaching down, she fished her own license out of her purse and compared the two.
Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set Page 95
