Somewhere between the time they left the site and Ellen's car, she had a major meltdown. Her grief was so overwhelming she couldn't control it. It was mortally embarrassing. Gene kept patting her hand while he drove, but Ellen could not make herself stop sobbing.
She was still crying when they reached her car. Gene looked at her tear stained face and sighed.
"Look, I don't think you're in any shape to drive. Why don't I just take you home. I can call one of my deputies to pick up your car."
"Won't they ask questions?"
"Yeah, probably."
"I can drive. You can follow if it will make you feel any better."
"It will."
By the time they got back to the Anderson chalet, Ellen was shaking so hard, she could hardly walk. The finality of Mark being gone had hit home and Ellen was being blind-sided by emotions so deep they threatened to consume her. She had managed to hold back the tears while maneuvering hairpin mountain roads in the pitch black night, but now that she was home safe, the damn really broke.
Now Ellen was sobbing again as Gene got her settled on the couch and held her until the heart wrenching grief could pass. After awhile exhaustion overcame Ellen and she slept.
When she opened her eyes and looked around, she knew she was safe. Somebody was holding her against his strong, warm, body. For a mere second Ellen thought it was Mark. Perhaps the plane crash had just been a bad dream. Then the cuts on her arm began to sting and all the memories of this God awful night came flooding back.
Ellen opened her hand and saw Mark's wedding band nestled next to her own rings. The dream was real. Mark was dead. Moving away from the comforting warmth, Ellen felt mortal embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." She moved to the far end of the couch.
"I believe grieving for your husband came over you, and there's nothing to be sorry about."
Restless, Ellen stood up needing to do something. "Would you like some coffee? I really owe you for tonight."
"You don't owe me for anything, Ellen. This is something I wanted to do. If you tell me where your liquor cabinet is I will make you my special drink guaranteed to make all your troubles melt away," He chuckled, "at least for awhile."
Ellen sat on her couch while glasses tinkled and the blender buzzed. She couldn't help but wonder at this strange scenario. Here she was with a bandaged arm from retrieving Mark's wedding band from his wrecked plane, and having a drink with the county sheriff at midnight. What a scenario for a reality show this would be.
Gene handed her a chilled glass and took a seat on the couch. Ellen sipped and smiled. It was really tasty. "Wow, you'll have to share this recipe." She held up her glass. "So tell me about yourself, Gene. How have you come to know these back roads so well, you can navigate them in a pea soup fog in the middle of the night?"
"Well, that's a good story."
Gene began talking. He told stories about his childhood, growing up as a moon shiner's son in the Tennessee hills. As a teen he had to learn every road and how to navigate them in the pitch dark with no head lights.
He talked about his short stint in the Marine Corps and humorous stories involving his fellow marines. Noticing Ellen's rapt attention he warmed to his subject. Embellishing wild tales of being chased down treacherous mountain roads, bottles of white liquor clinking and sloshing in the back of his pickup, Gene kept talking. He wanted her to forget about the tragedy of losing her husband. Her sorrow was killing him. Gene ached to be showered in the brilliance of that beautiful smile. He had known a lot of women in his life but this one was special. Granted Ellen was a beauty but it was more than that. She possessed something that glowed from within. Gene had never met anyone quite like her.
The only thing he didn’t talk about was his wife Martha. He was relieved to see Ellen was no longer crying or trembling. Some color had returned to her face and he thought she was more exquisite than ever.
When Ellen began to nod off in sleep, Gene managed to talk her into lying on the couch. He covered her with a quilt and sat on the floor next to her. He continued to talk in a soft low voice. As her eyes closed and her breathing grew even, his head bent toward her almost as if an invisible force was urging him. Very gently, his warm lips grazed her soft cheek. She looked so innocent and child like, Gene found it very hard to break away. With her emotional state so fragile, he wanted to stay here all night just watching over her.
Looking at his watch was like a splash of icy water in the face. Martha was going to kill him. Gene had to get home whether he wanted to or not.
CHAPTER FOUR
All the lights were on in the house when Gene pulled into the drive. This was not a good sign. It was well after two AM and he couldn't imagine how mad his wife was going to be. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Gene stepped up on the porch and put his key in the lock. He heard the sharp footsteps before he even got the door open and startled as the door was snatched from his grasp.
“Gene Stone, where on earth have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Uh..."
"Never mind."
Gene shrugged and remained silent. He knew from past experience that trying to explain was a total waste of effort. Martha's voice was shrill and angry.
“I’ve been waiting dinner since five. It's ruined and I threw it in the trash. We’ve missed Bible study and I don’t know what in the world I’m going to tell the Reverend Bob. You promised, remember? You could’ve at least had the decency to call me.”
She dogged his steps as Gene made his way into the living room. Yeah he probably should've called but what the hell. He didn't. Martha would've just found something else to hound him about.
Gene allowed her voice to roll off his back. Damn nagging woman, he should be used to it by now. From Ellen's magnificent chalet to his own home, what a world of difference. Gene wanted to be back there with her.
Working hard at a placating smile, he said, “sorry Baby, it couldn’t be helped. A private jet went down up around the Asheville airport. I was out in the field helping the...uh... family.”
Gene headed for his favorite recliner and sat, hoping Martha would get distracted and leave him in peace. Shaking out the evening paper, he held it in front of him, but having some quiet time to himself was not going to happen. Martha put her hands on her hips and stood directly in front of his chair. Her face was pinched and Gene groaned inside.
"Are you listening to me, Gene Stone? She slapped at the paper. "I'm sorry for that family. I will say a prayer for them in church, but I don't see why it is always you that has to go.”
“Yes, Dear,” he nodded while turning a page. “What can I say? I’m sorry. It was department business and I'm head of that department. I would've called if I could but I was simply not able."
"You have a cell phone."
"I was out of range," he lied.
The news blurred before his eyes. Gene's mind was back there on Ellen's couch. Something about her had him mesmerized. He felt as excited as a boy experiencing love for the first time. Gene couldn't get his mind on anything else. His body, alive from the feel of her, he simply could not drive Ellen from his thoughts. She had cried so much on the drive back it broke his heart. But then she came into his arms and allowed him to comfort her. It was an indescribable feeling. Gene smiled. He could still feel how her body snuggled against him with that fragrant honey hair spread over his arms.
A small hand swatted his shoulder, shattering the sensuous daydream. Martha's voice was piqued. “Well, I’d like to know what you find so amusing about this. You’d best wipe that smirk off your face, Mister Stone.”
Gene looked up as if seeing his wife for the first time. Martha's short hair showed streaks of gray. Bearing a son had thickened her waist. There was a time when he couldn't keep his hands off her but that was eons ago.
Martha was a fine woman, the mother of his only son. He couldn’t imagine a life without her and he knew that in his own way he would alw
ays love her. Martha gave his life respectability, a reality that was sadly lacking in his youth. The townspeople looked up to him as their elected sheriff. Gene had standing in the First Baptist Church. But the sizzling passion between them died years ago. Now he stayed because it was expected of him as a pillar of the community.
Gene and Martha had been high school sweethearts. Right before graduation she tearfully confronted him one night with the news. It was a night that would burn in his memory forever. At the tender age of seventeen, Gene Stone was going to be a father.
He often wondered about the bond between them. Had he married her for love and not at the end of a shotgun, would he love her more? Would he have been satisfied in a monogamous marriage?
His son Eugene, now in college was the light of his life. But lately when he came home late like tonight, there was judgment in his son's eyes. Father and son were drifting apart and that broke his heart.
Gene had amused himself with more women than he could count. After all, he reasoned, a man needed that sort of thing so it wasn't really wrong. If Martha knew of his indiscretions she never let on. If he was seen, most people knew to keep their mouths shut.
Sheriff Stone was a powerful influence and nobody dared to cross him. On some occasions he was forced to do some fancy tap dancing to keep his secret life from blowing up in his face. Tonight just might be one of those occasions. With that thought in mind, Gene was painfully brought back to his present dilemma. Keeping his wife happy meant keeping her out of his business.
Gene sighed, put the paper aside and stood up. He reached out his arms and gathered Martha close to his chest. He smiled feeling her body relax against him. “I’m sorry, Martha. I realize I should’ve called you, but...I had an emergency and I’m sure you understand. Hey Baby, you know how much I love you.” Gene placed a gentle hand on her chin, tilting her face for a soft lingering kiss.
Martha gazed into his eyes with love. “I married you in the eyes of the Lord for better or for worse. I’ll try and be more understanding, Sweetheart. I want to be a good wife to you.
"You are a good wife to me, Baby. You always have been."
"I know you must be hungry. Tell me what you’d like and I’ll go fix it.”
Gene smiled, pleased with himself. "Martha, you're the best wife any man could ever have. I'll tell you what I'm hungry for, and that's you my sweet girl. Let's go to bed."
Ellen awoke with a start when she heard Juanita come in. Like an avalanche, the previous night crashed in around her. Her bandaged right hand throbbed with pain. Her left hand was unscathed as she held out her fingers revealing Mark's wedding band, clustered together with her own. Ellen stared at it with blurred, watery vision. This was the beginning. A painful, lonely life stretching to infinity awaited her.
Ellen wondered what time Gene left. It had been very late and he was so wonderful to help and stay with her. Sobbing on his shoulder and falling asleep in his arms was so blatantly inappropriate she couldn't believe it happened. How could she have done something like that, been so intimate with a virtual stranger? If Gene had any sense, he would stay well away from her. But Ellen had to admit that without him, she never would've found the crash site much less gotten into it. Thanks to Gene she was able to give closure. Thanks to Gene she had Mark's precious wedding ring. Ellen owed this man. If she ever got the chance again, he would be thanked properly.
Her skin was itchy and stinging from a thousand blackberry cane scratches and insect bites. Juanita probably saw her on the couch and chose not to disturb her.
"Hi Juanita, I guess you noticed I slept on the couch last night."
"Oh Senora, I so worry for you."
"I'm fine, don't worry, but I do need a shower. Will you fix me some of your luscious blueberry muffins?"
"Yes Ma'am. Right away, Senora."
Gene turned over and looked at the clock. Five fifteen. Martha was sound asleep, snuggled against him. He didn't want to wake her so he untangled himself carefully. Getting out of bed, he stood in front of the picture window. Dawn was just breaking, coloring the hills the deepest of purple. His mind was so full of Ellen he still couldn't focus on anything else. He wondered how she made it through the night and hoped finding herself alone wasn’t too devastating. He would've given anything to be able to stay with her. All Gene could think about was comforting Ellen. Going back to sleep was not going to happen now so he might as well get ready to face the day.
Gene walked into the kitchen to put the coffee on. He knew there would be a phone call to Mrs. Anderson sometime today. The strange nervousness in his stomach surprised him. A woman has never affected him quite like this and that was a bit unnerving. In the past he always had the upper hand. It was the women who were nervous about him. Excitement had Gene anxious to get to the telephone in the privacy of his office.
"Senora, phone is for you." Juanita called up the stairs.
"Who is it?" Ellen had just stepped out of the shower and was towel drying her hair.
"It some man, Senora."
A man? Ellen knitted her brows. She picked up the bedroom phone. "This is Mrs. Anderson."
"Hello Mrs. Anderson. This is Sheriff Stone."
"Oh...hi."
"You had a rough go of it last night and I've been concerned about you. How's the arm?"
"It's stinging a bit but I'm fine. Sheriff Stone..."
"Gene, remember?"
"Gene, I never got a chance to thank you for everything you did for me last night."
"I was glad to be able to help. You've been through a lot."
"Well, you took a risk for me that you didn't have to take. Because of you I found Mark's ring and shirt. I just don't know how I can repay you."
"That's really not necessary but I would like to see you from time to time, just to know you're doing okay."
"Do you like blueberry muffins?"
"They're my favorite."
"Juanita is making a batch. Would you like to come over for some breakfast?"
"I can be there in ten minutes."
Ellen hung up the phone puzzled at herself. Why did she do that? Ten minutes? Crap! She threw off the terry robe and rummaged through the closet.
The door bell rang just as she finished blow drying her hair. Ellen had pulled on a scoop neck jersey shirt and jeans. She peered in the mirror wondering why her choice of wardrobe was important. She was in her own home and could dress any way she wanted.
It's true Ellen owed Gene for getting her to the crash site but she didn't expect him to call and drop by the very next day.
This was probably a one-time thing anyway. She shouldn't let it concern her.
Ellen descended the stairs and joined him in the breakfast nook. "Good morning, Gene."
He immediately stood up. "You look great this morning, just like a princess."
She scoffed. "What have you been smoking?"
He laughed. "I think I'll nickname you Princess."
"Oh Yeah, Princess Ellen, nice ring to it."
"I think so, and I like seeing you smile."
Juanita came in with a steaming platter of fresh blueberry muffins, bacon and scrambled eggs. She poured coffee leaving the pot on the table.
"Well, Gene, I didn't get a chance last night to thank you properly for everything."
"Ellen, I know there is no way to make what has happened easy, but I'd like to make it less painful if I can."
She looked at him and smiled. "You've already done that."
"May I check your arm when we finish breakfast?"
"Sure."
"You may want to have your doctor look at it today."
"And what do you suggest I tell him?"
"Good question."
They ate breakfast and talked about how's the weather subjects.
"That was delicious, Ellen. Juanita, you are the best cook in the world," he called to the kitchen.
"Gracias, Senor."
"Let's look at those cuts, Princess."
Ellen shot him a ludicrous
stare. "The princess thinks it is fine." She had taken the bandage off in the shower. "It looks to be healing to me." She held her arm out to Gene.
He held her hand and gently checked the cuts. Then he looked at Ellen.
"The arm looks better and you look better. And that sure makes me feel better."
Ellen pulled away from his touch. "I'm fine, Gene." She got up suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "You'll have to excuse me. There's a lot I need to do today."
Ellen wasn't sure what was bothering her. Perhaps she was still in shock, or she needed to be alone, but this man's presence was annoying her.
Gene got up. "I need to get back to work anyway."
She walked him to the door. "Thank you, Gene, for everything, especially this." She held up her left hand as Mark's larger band dangled behind the others.
"You're welcome, Ellen. May I call you from time to time?"
She didn't know how to answer him. Did she really want Sheriff Stone to stay in touch with her? Why would he want to? It didn't make any sense. Maybe that was just the kind of man he was, a very caring one.
Ellen shrugged, "If you like."
"I would like." Gene gave her a grin. "Bye, Princess."
Ellen shook her head and shut the door. He was trying to lighten her mood. It was obvious. If only it could be that easy.
CHAPTER FIVE
The board room echoed with small talk as the executives of Anderson Enterprises corporate management helped themselves to coffee, fruit, and sandwiches on the buffet table. It was early evening and they had just gotten off from work. There was change in the air. Uncertainty rumbled through the room. Execs took their seats, shuffled papers and waited for their new boss to address them.
Sitting in Mark's private office, Ellen couldn't help but over hear some of the conversations. Of course everybody missed Mark. He was an exemplary boss, easily approachable and fair. Having his wife take over did not set well, especially with some of the senior male managers.
This was the reason Ellen called for an emergency meeting of the board this evening. The assembly would be broadcast by telecommunications to CEOs in other states. They had a right to know as much detail as possible concerning their future at Anderson Enterprises.
LETHAL OBSESSION Page 3
