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In the Heart's Shadow

Page 8

by T. L. Haddix


  “So does that mean we won’t be having fried chicken for dinner? Do I need to order pizza?”

  “No. I managed to protect three of the four breasts.” At the word “breasts,” his eyes dropped to her chest again, and Stacy felt her cheeks flush. “If you don’t mind watching that demon for a few minutes, I really would like to go take a shower.”

  Stacy let Murphy go, and he raced off toward the back of the house. “Is he always like that?”

  Gordon sighed. “More than he isn’t.”

  “Go take your shower. Don’t rush because I’m here. It sounds like you’ve more than earned a break. Is there anything in the kitchen I need to do?”

  “No, everything’s ready to go. All I have to do is fry up the chicken and mash the potatoes. I won’t be long,” he promised. “Make yourself comfortable.” With that, he headed up the stairs two at a time.

  Murphy came back down the hall, dragging a tattered fleece baby blanket behind him. He was meowing softly around the fabric, which he brought to Stacy.

  “You are a stinker, you know that? You could teach my Chloe a thing or three about being a bad cat,” she told him. She moved a hand toward the blanket, but Murphy growled and flattened his ears. Stacy backed off. “Okay, you can keep it.”

  At the words, he dropped the blanket and ran away, flying upstairs faster than she would have imagined he could. The shower had kicked on, and Stacy hoped Gordon had closed the bathroom door or else he might have an audience. Imagining Gordon’s reactions to the cat’s antics, she snickered and decided to text Maria.

  “At Chase’s. Gordon’s showering. I’m nervous. I wore a dress.”

  In seconds, a response came back. “Short dress or long dress? Don’t B nervous. UR fine. 2 person showers R fun.”

  “I’m not N there with him!” she typed back. “Long dress. And sweater.”

  “Take off sweater. Y not in there? He wouldn’t mind. Bet you 10 dollars.”

  Stacy let her head fall back against the chair, and she dialed Maria’s number. “You don’t know how I wish I was the kind of person who felt comfortable doing that,” she told her friend when she answered. “It took me hours to get up the nerve to wear the dress.”

  “I have an idea of how difficult the decision was. And I have every confidence that someday, and soon, you’ll be comfortable jumping the man. You need to be able to let down your guard, and being with the right man will make that happen.”

  “You think he’s the right man?”

  Maria didn’t answer immediately. “I don’t know. I think he very well could be. I think the two of you strike sparks off each other. And I know Wyatt respects him. That speaks loudly to Gordon’s character, at least in my book.”

  “Mine, too,” Stacy admitted. “Murphy’s given him a hard time today, I guess. He might decide to stay in the shower all evening.”

  “Well, if he does, then you’ll definitely have to join him. How’s the remodel coming?”

  They chatted for a few more minutes, until Stacy heard a vehicle pull up outside. “Someone’s here. I’d better go see who it is. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay. Call if you need me. Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks.” Ending the call, Stacy reached the front door as Deputy Robbie Bailey started up the porch steps. When he saw her, his face moved into a perplexed frown. “Hey, Robbie. What brings you out here?”

  “Stacy. We had a nine-one-one call from this house. I got dispatched out. Everything okay?”

  Surprised, she stood back and let him in as he radioed dispatch via his shoulder unit. “Yeah, as far as I know. Gordon’s upstairs, getting cleaned up.” She started to close the door, but stopped when another sheriff’s cruiser pulled in the driveway. Newly minted Detective Jason Hudson joined them in the living room. He eyed her up and down, no doubt taking in the dress.

  “Didn’t expect to see you here.” A smile played around his lips. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine, as I was telling Robbie.” She crossed her arms self-consciously. “Gordon’s in the shower. You sure the call came from this house?”

  Robbie nodded, looking around. “Yeah. It came from the house phone about ten minutes ago.”

  “Have you seen Murphy?” Jason asked. “In the last ten or so minutes, I mean?”

  Stacy scowled. “You don’t think Murphy called nine-one-one, surely.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me. Chase and Annie have to keep the phone locked up out of his reach, or he steals it and hides it. Beth, Mom and Dad, myself—we’ve all had three a.m. calls from Murphy.”

  Both Jason and Robbie were grinning. Stacy didn’t know whether to believe Jason, as he was one of the department’s biggest practical jokers, but Robbie seemed to.

  “I’ll get out of your hair, then. Surely between two detectives, you can handle whatever problem arises.” He let himself out and left Stacy staring at Jason.

  “You’re serious? Murphy steals the phone?”

  “Yep. Usually hides it under Chase’s bed.”

  She threw her hands up in the air. “Fine. Come on. Let’s see if we can find it.”

  Jason led the way upstairs. “Nice dress, by the way.”

  “Don’t you start.”

  He cast an innocent look over his shoulder. “What? It is a nice dress. It’s a little weird, seeing you in something other than khakis and a button-down shirt, that’s all.”

  Stacy cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m a little defensive.”

  “I noticed.” Jason tempered the words with a smile as they went into Chase’s bedroom. “So how has the demon been behaving for Gordon?” He hunkered down to look under the bed. “Yep, there he is. And I believe that is the phone he’s sitting on. I’ll go around to the other side and try to run him toward you.”

  “You have to be kidding me,” Stacy muttered as she got down on her hands and knees. “He’s apparently been pulling all his Murphy quirks out for Gordon.” By the time she finished telling him what Murphy had done, they were both laughing. When Gordon spoke, she jumped and gave a little shriek.

  “Well, this is unexpected. What the heck are you two doing?”

  From where he stood in the doorway, Gordon had a perfect view of the sundress cupping the rounded curves of Stacy’s behind. Not an unpleasant sight, he conceded, but he wasn’t able to enjoy it as much as he would have liked, given Jason’s presence on the other side of the bed.

  He’d finished his shower and was pulling on his jeans when he heard voices, then laughter coming from down the hall. The sound of Stacy’s amusement made him smile, but when a man’s voice joined in, all amusement fled. He stood in the doorway, waiting impatiently for someone to tell him what was going on. A low growling was coming from under the bed, and Gordon frowned at the sound.

  “Murphy apparently called nine-one-one,” Stacy explained, her cheeks flushed. A lock of shiny brown hair had escaped her hair clip, and she brushed it away as she looked up at him. She wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, and as Gordon looked down, he realized he hadn’t put a shirt on.

  Surely she wasn’t flustered to find him shirtless, he mused, and then her words sank in. “He did what?”

  Jason rested his arms on the bed and grinned. “He likes the phone. Didn’t Chase tell you that before they left? You can’t leave it where he can get to it, or he calls people.” The other man’s eyes went from Gordon to Stacy and back again, and Gordon could practically see him plotting and calculating. He girded himself for some ribald teasing, but to his surprise, it didn’t come.

  “We need to get the phone away from him before he calls China and racks up a huge long-distance bill,” Jason said. “Though, since my brother is a fancy-schmancy lawyer, he can afford it.”

  “Hey, now. Watch it with the lawyer jokes.” Gordon hunkered down next to Stacy and shot Jason a mock scowl.

  “I can come up with something else if you’d prefer, I’m sure.” When Gordon’s scowl turned serious, Jason relented. “But I won’t. Come on, Murphy.
I have a family waiting for me at home, you little monkey. Give up the goods.”

  “I have the longest arms here. Let me see if I can get him.” Gordon’s cheek brushed Stacy’s knee as he peered under the bed, and she moved out of his way. He edged closer to the bed and slid his hand underneath, toward where Murphy sat, growling. When his fingers touched fur, the growl turned into an angry hiss, and before Gordon could react, the hiss resulted in a vicious swipe of sharp claws.

  “Damn it! You little bastard!” Gordon jerked his hand back. “He scratched me.”

  “Did you get the phone?” Jason was unsympathetic.

  “Yes, I got the damned phone.” Sitting up, Gordon handed it to Stacy. Four angry red welts were rising on the back of his hand, and two of them dripped blood.

  “Oh, my gosh. He really got you,” Stacy tossed the phone on the bed and grabbed a tissue from a box on the nightstand. “Let me see your hand.”

  Gordon let her dab away the blood. He sucked in a breath when she pressed the tissue against the wounds, but he didn’t protest.

  Jason stood and came around to where they sat. When Stacy lifted the tissue and he saw the damage the cat had inflicted, he winced.

  “Damn. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he got you that badly.” He picked up the phone and checked it.

  “Not your fault. Where do I need to keep the phone?”

  “In the cabinet in the kitchen where the charger is, or wherever you keep your keys and cell phone.”

  “He goes for those, too?” Gordon asked incredulously. “What else didn’t Chase tell me?”

  “He probably left out as much as he could. The rest of us have learned the hard way that Murphy doesn’t play well with others. And he did make the call.” Jason held up the handset. “You need me to call an ambulance for those lacerations? You may need stitches.”

  Gordon used his uninjured hand to send Jason a very crude, pointed message. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “You do need to clean those and probably bandage them.” Stacy ignored their banter. She let go of his hand and stood. “I had no idea Murphy was so high maintenance.”

  “He’s not usually this bad,” Jason explained as Gordon also stood. “But Chase and Annie are settling in to being married, and there’s been a lot of stress lately, what with Beth getting ready to pop and the flower shop coming back online. Apparently, the little guy picks up on all that and doesn’t react well. I really am sorry about your hand.”

  They headed into the hall.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll live. I’ve had worse. Stacy’s going to have to finish supper, though.”

  Jason coughed. “Okay. Do you want me to let the fire department know now, or do you want to wait until the alarms go off?” Stacy turned to him with a scowl and smacked him on the arm.

  “Ow! That hurt!”

  “Good. I’m not that hopeless in the kitchen, thank you very much.”

  “Uh-huh. You say that now… I remember a pot of noodles that you were moaning about not that long ago. Tell me, did you ever replace that chisel you broke trying to get them out of that pan?”

  “Jason Hudson, don’t make me call Hannah and tell her you’re harassing me,” she warned.

  He held up his hands. “Okay, no need to get nasty. I’ll see you both later. Try to not burn the house down,” he called over his shoulder as he hurried down the stairs. “I’ll let myself out.”

  “You’ve had to call Hannah?” Gordon asked, surprised.

  Stacy grinned. “No. I just threaten to. Straightens him up every time.”

  “Ah, he’s afraid of her.”

  “Maybe. A little.”

  Gordon grinned. “That’s as it should be. Any smart man is afraid of his wife.” He looked down at his hand. “Do you mind helping me with this? I don’t even know where the first aid kit is.”

  “Probably the bathroom.” Stacy led him into the room. “Oh, wow. I love the decor in here.”

  “I’m bleeding to death, possibly contracting blood poisoning, and you’re fascinated by the tile? I’m crushed.”

  “You poor baby. We might have to amputate.” Her voice was droll as she opened the door to the small closet and found the bandages and antibiotic ointment. “And yes, I like the tile. It’s very retro.”

  The bathroom was done in pale pink and black tile, which if Gordon remembered correctly, was original to the house. He told Stacy as much as he sat on the edge of the counter and let her tend his hand.

  “It makes me glad to see they kept it. A lot of people would have torn it out, gotten rid of it.”

  “You really love old houses, don’t you?”

  Head tilted to the side, she considered the question. “Yes. Something about American architecture from the first half of the twentieth century speaks to me. It says ‘home,’ if that makes any sense.”

  Gordon winced as she gently cleaned the wounds, then patted them dry using a sterile gauze pad. “I get what you’re saying. I grew up in trailer parks outside Army bases, didn’t live in a real house until I was ten years old. There’s something very comforting about plaster walls and hardwood floors.”

  Stacy raised her head and looked at him with something nearing astonished surprise in her eyes. “You do get it. So you were an Army brat, huh? Where all did you live?”

  He shrugged as best he could with her holding his hand. “Here and there. Fort Campbell, Fort Bragg, even Fort Benning. We didn’t stay anywhere for very long.” He didn’t like remembering those times. Something in his voice must have alerted her, because she sent him an assessing look.

  “You’re good to go. And if I do have to finish supper, you really might want to consider calling in pizza now.”

  Gordon didn’t move as she cleaned up the first aid supplies, so she had to reach around him to get to the garbage can. He thought about drawing her into his arms, but given the way her eyes skidded across his bare chest, he figured that might be pushing things a little too much.

  “I think I can walk you through it. I’m not Kathryn, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He straightened and followed her into the hall. “I’ll grab one of Chase’s shirts and meet you downstairs.”

  “Okay.”

  As he rummaged through Chase’s closet, he wondered about her reserve and reticence. He didn’t think Stacy was overtly religious or conservative, and he didn’t like the options that left open. During the course of his stint as a law enforcement officer, he’d met women with the same reserve. Coupled with her reluctance to be touched, the behavior usually pointed to a history of abuse of some kind. Gordon didn’t know how he would handle it if that turned out to be the case for Stacy. He shrugged into the T-shirt he’d found, relieved to see that it fit well enough.

  “I guess I’ll have to deal with that if we get there,” he told Murphy, who had come out from under the bed to get on top of it and sat watching him with an unblinking gaze. “I just hope I’m wrong.”

  CHAPTER 8

  THEY MADE IT THROUGH SUPPER without setting off a single smoke detector, thanks in large part to Gordon’s close oversight. In the living room on the couch, she curled up her legs underneath her long skirt. She was glad she’d worn the dress. After the first few minutes of feeling awkward, it felt natural. She’d had to take off the sweater to cook, and seeing the covert, appreciative looks Gordon kept sending her bare shoulders hadn’t hurt her ego. Murphy jumped up and settled down on her feet with a purr.

  “So do you want to start with the Q and A part of the test?”

  “Sure. Oh, and I signed up for a refresher course. It’s a popular tool for people taking the bar. That should take a little pressure off us and what we’re doing here.”

  “But not enough that you don’t need to study?”

  He grinned at her. “Not really. Sorry.”

  “Well, lucky for you, I don’t mind helping.”

  They buckled down for the next couple of hours. When they reached the end of one of the mock test’s sections, Stacy set aside th
e notes. “Ugh. I need to excuse myself for a minute.” She gently moved her feet out from under Murphy and wiggled her toes to get the feeling back in them before standing.

  “How about I get dessert ready while you’re gone?”

  “Dessert?”

  He shrugged. “It might be that I have a chocolate cheesecake from The Brown Bag in the fridge.”

  Stacy stopped halfway to the hall and put her hands on her hips. “Oh, really? And you’re just mentioning this now?”

  “Um, yes?” He sent her a grin full of innocent, boyish charm.

  Stacy was no more immune to it than she was to Murphy’s or Chloe’s cuteness. “Make mine a double.”

  When she came out of the bathroom, sliced cheesecake was sitting on the plates on the coffee table.

  “I put on some coffee. It should be ready in a couple minutes.” He turned to go back in the kitchen, and Murphy stood, stretched, and inched his way toward the cheesecake.

  “Gordon?”

  “Yeah?” he called from the kitchen.

  “Murphy says thanks for the cheesecake.”

  Gordon was absolutely silent for two seconds, then appeared in the doorway. “Don’t you dare!” he told the cat.

  Murphy looked over his shoulder, unconcerned. With a defiant twitch of his tail, he leapt from the couch to the table. Before Gordon could obliterate Murphy with the heat in his gaze, Stacy stepped in and picked up the troublemaker.

  “He doesn’t have a cat, Murphy. You shouldn’t take advantage of him like that.”

  When Murphy protested with an angry grumble, Stacy laughed and let him down. With his efforts to steal a bite of cheesecake thwarted, he stalked off, tail twitching.

  Gordon went back in the kitchen for the coffee, then returned a moment later. “You know, you could have said something when I sat the plates down.”

  “I could have,” she agreed as she sat down. “But that wouldn’t have been nearly as fun as seeing your face when he went for it.”

  “Oh, really?”

  She smiled as she took the first bite of the cheesecake, then closed her eyes as the flavors hit her tongue. “Mmm, that is so good.” When she opened her eyes, Gordon was staring at her, his own fork hanging forgotten in the air halfway between his plate and his mouth. She flushed and looked away. “So tell me about you being an Army brat. I thought you grew up in eastern Kentucky.”

 

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