by Helen Conrad
She made an effort to settle back into the seat, watching him sideways as he started the engine and maneuvered the car into traffic.
Cody could sense her inspection. It made him feel slightly awkward. What did she see? From the evidence he’d gathered over the years, most women seemed to see a handsome, strong, sexually attractive man. But for some reason, he didn’t think that was what Kelly Carrington was seeing. What he couldn’t figure out was why he gave a damn.
“What were you doing there, anyway?” she asked, curiosity finally getting the better of reticence. “Why were they attacking you?”
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that.” He made a face at his unplanned joke. “But this afternoon a certain young lady, who I guess isn’t as good a friend of mine as I thought, called and asked me to meet her behind the casino.”
“She set you up?”
He nodded, watching traffic. “Looks that way.”
She was silent for a moment, thinking that over. “But why? What do they have against you?”
He glanced at her as he rounded a curve. He knew without being told that she wasn’t part of the scene on the Strip or downtown either. She lived quietly in some outlying part of Las Vegas and worked at a job that might as well have been in Minneapolis or Cleveland. There was a certain freedom in that. He could tell her things he wouldn’t tell anyone else.
“They’re warning me not to talk. I saw something I wish I hadn’t. They want to make sure I forget it.”
She turned toward him in the seat, interested. “What was it? You saw something illegal going on at the casino?”
He raised an eyebrow, slowed and honked at a double-parker. “Gee, I don’t know. I’m busy forgetting.”
But she hardly seemed to have heard him. “Well, the police will give you protection, I’m sure, once you’ve told them all about it. Where’s the nearest police station? Maybe we ought to go there first.”
He pulled the car to a stop at a red light and turned to her, all humor gone from his dark eyes. “You’ve got this wrong, Kelly,” he said evenly. “I’m not telling anybody anything. That advice they were giving me back there in that alley was a little rough, but it was good as gold. If I want to stay alive, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Her face was clouded, puzzled. “You mean you have information about illegal activities and you won’t come forward?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Her eyes widened, her face displayed outrage, incredulity, and a certain distrust for what she obviously considered his immoral and cowardly decision. “Why... That’s awful!”
He wondered with just a flashing moment of annoyance if she were for real. Maybe she didn’t live among the serious folks he moved with, but didn’t she watch television or go to the movies? Norman Rockwell could have used her for a model. She was almost too all-American to be true.
“Listen, honey,” he said, his voice sharper than he’d meant, using it as a verbal slap to wake her up. “Life isn’t a Frank Capra movie. The good guys don’t always win. It’s the quiet guys who stay alive.”
“If everyone thought like that, we’d still be the wild frontier,” she said. “I tell you what. You tell me what it was you saw, and I’ll go to the police.”
If you’re such a coward, her tone implied, and it hurt, he had to admit it.
“Stay out of this,” he said softly.
He expected an argument. From the first she’d seemed like the sort who would try to argue him into paying his bills before they were due. But to his surprise, she didn’t say another word. Instead, she sank back into her seat and frowned out the window. Then she realized they’d been driving aimlessly for some time.
“Where’s the closest emergency clinic around here?” she asked, straightening.
He shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”
She looked about as the huge hotels of the Strip flashed by. “Then where are we going?”
“Home.” He tried a smile on her again, but didn’t get a response. The wariness was even more obvious in her now. “Where do you live?”
She hesitated, then gave him the address. “But you should see a doctor.”
“I’ll take care of that on my own. Right now, I’m going to drive you home. I want to make sure those goons don’t follow you.”
She shrugged, shaking her head of burnished curls. “You’re the one who was beat up.”
“But you’re the one who stopped it. With a lie. Those boys don’t take kindly to being suckered in with a lie. Especially from a lady.” He shook his head in mock reproval. “You’ve got to remember, there are certain rules in this town. You’ve violated a few important ones. You should know better.”
He actually got a whisper of a smile from her. “Next time I’ll let them tear you apart,” she muttered.
“Good. That will make them happy.” He grinned, then modified it to reduce stress on his injured lip.
Kelly caught him at it and sighed. “I wish you’d get that looked at.”
“I’m fine. I just want to make sure you get in okay.” He glanced at his own reflection in the rear-view mirror and grimaced at the wound on his mouth. “Adds a dashing air, don’t you think?” he asked quite seriously. “Like a pirate’s scar—“
Suddenly she was actually laughing. “You’re crazy. Do you know that?”
He looked at her, slightly stunned by the wave of excitement that spun through him from the sound of her laugh. “You’ve got to be crazy to live in this town,” he murmured, wondering at her. He wanted to touch the golden mass of her hair.
She didn’t notice. “Not on my side of town you don’t,” she said almost cheerfully. “Things are perfectly normal here.”
“Vine-covered cottages, huh?”
“Split-level ranch style,” she corrected.
“Right.” He glanced at her. Her profile with its turned-up nose made him smile, for some crazy reason. “And I’ll bet you work as someone’s secretary in a nice clean office building—“
“Wrong.” She met his gaze almost defiantly. “I work at Sadie’s Nursery, and it’s nice, but not at all clean.”
“But wholesome,” he grumbled, staring at traffic to keep from staring at her. “Definitely wholesome.”
Chapter Two
He turned onto her street, a cul-de-sac, and he found the house easily. It was split-level ranch style all right, a simple stucco in a rather modest neighborhood. But the windows sparkled in the sun, and carefully planted petunias filled the border along the walk to the front door with riotous color. Cody stared at it for a moment. Flashbacks of his childhood intruded, and for just a fraction of a second he thought he saw his mother’s face behind one of the squeaky-clean windowpanes.
“Come on.” He jumped out and walked quickly to the other side, opening the car for her before she’d finished fumbling to find the handle. “Let’s go.”
She took his hand as he helped her out of the car, but she let it go quickly once she’d stood up. “You don’t need to walk me to the door.”
“Oh, but I do.” He didn’t try to touch her again, but he walked alongside her up to the front porch. “I like to see a job through to completion.”
She mounted the few steps quickly. “Look.” Slapping the flat of her hand on the varnished wood of her doorway, she gazed up at him earnestly. “The door. You’ve done it. Goodbye, now.”
“Goodbye.” He said the words, but didn’t move. He was looking down into her crystal green eyes and he couldn’t look away. A bird sang out from a yard tree. Children called at one another down the street, and a telephone rang nearby. Still he stared at her.
He just couldn’t stop looking at her. She was so... clean and wholesome. Oh my Lord, he groaned to himself. Clean and wholesome. The very things he’d come to Las Vegas to get away from. What was this, deja vu? Or maybe he was homesick. He’d better get over it quickly, or he’d make a damn fool of himself.
“I guess I’ll get going,” he sai
d, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He finally pulled his gaze away from hers, but it wandered rebelliously down across her body, taking in the way her small breasts pressed against the plaid cloth of her shirt, the way her rounded hips fit into the denim of her jeans. Suddenly he felt like a teenage boy just discovering what women were all about. Things stirred and feelings flowed and he was deeply embarrassed.
“Damn,” he muttered, turning away and looking back at his red car as though it were an escape vehicle he couldn’t quite reach. “Listen, thanks for what you did back there. I really appreciate it—“
Another voice interrupted his rambling attempt to break away. He swung around and found a young girl in a cap and baseball jersey coming up the walk toward the house.
“Hi, Mom,” she was calling. “Can you practice with me? Or maybe—“ she gestured toward Cody and lowered her voice “—he could?”
Cody looked around quickly, sure she had to be referring to someone else he hadn’t noticed. But no. The only “he” in sight was himself. He frowned at the girl, baffled. How anyone could take one look at him in his designer suit and think he might be up for baseball was a puzzle he didn’t have time to figure out.
“Sorry, Tammy,” Kelly responded before he could think of a proper answer for a ten-year-old girl. “Mr. Marin was just leaving.”
Tammy was crestfallen, kicking her foot into the grass. “Nobody will play catch with me. I’ve been all over the neighborhood. Mitch is too busy waxing his truck. Mr. Iver is watching a game on TV. How am I going to make the All-Stars if I can’t get anyone to practice with?”
Kelly’s smile was amused as well as compassionate. “You’ve got me,” she said. “I’ll practice with you later.”
Tammy nodded and looked shyly at Cody again from under her blond lashes. “Wouldn’t he like to throw me the ball just a little? I mean, you’re okay, Mom, but maybe he could throw a little harder.”
Kelly looked indignant. “Listen, young lady, I volunteered to coach your softball team and you were happy enough about that.”
Tammy’s lower lip threatened to quiver. “Yeah, because no one else would do it, and without a coach we couldn’t be in the Girls’ Softball League.”
“Right. If I’m good enough to coach, I ought to be good enough to play catch with.”
Tammy gave Cody a look that told him eloquently just how she rated her mother’s ball-playing talents. But Kelly had an ace up her sleeve. “Look what I got for you.” With a flourish, she brought out the new bat.
Tammy’s anguish fell away. “Oh, great!” She took it and made an experimental swing. “I love it! Thanks, Mom.” Turning, she eyed Cody, then looked away. “Now I need someone to pitch to me.”
Cody grinned at her, realizing at the same time that he was tempted to stay and throw a few pitches for her—tempted to stay and try to wrangle an invitation to dinner.
Tempted to stay here in suburbia. Good Lord! He’d better get out while he could.
And then it hit him. Hey, there had to be a dad around her somewhere. Who was Tammy’s father and why couldn’t he pitch for her?
“Maybe when you’re dad gets home,” he ventured in Tammy’s direction.
She made a face at him. “My dad’s gone,” she said. “All I need is somebody to pitch for me,” Tammy added, pulling her cap down over eyes that were replicas of her mother’s. She tossed the hide-covered ball up and caught it again. “You know what?” she said, braving another quick glance at Cody. “You look like a pitcher to me.”
Cody shrugged, then winced as he was reminded of what he’d gone through only an hour before. “Sorry, Tammy. My pitching ‘stuff’ has been folded, bent and mutilated today.”
There was just a pause before Tammy’s mother added, “And you wouldn’t want to jeopardize your dealing hand, would you?”
He swung around in surprise. He hadn’t expected an attack of sarcasm from Kelly. From the look on her face, he could see that she was just as surprised herself. But she didn’t back down.
“Mr. Marin isn’t a ball player, Tammy. He’s a gambler,” she said evenly, avoiding his eyes. “Let’s let him get back to where he belongs.”
“A gambler.” There was evidence of a consistent family antipathy toward games of chance in Tammy’s disgusted tone. She stood back to let him pass, her bright green eyes examining him coolly.
Cody took the steps slowly, retaining his dignity. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so summarily dismissed by females before. But what the hell! He was definitely out of his league here.
“Thanks again,” he said, looking back at Kelly.
The late afternoon sunlight shimmered in her golden hair. “You’re welcome.”
She didn’t smile. Neither did her daughter. He shook his head and turned toward his car. As he made his way down the walk, an SUV pulled up in front of the house and a thin, harried-looking man of about forty stepped out, frowning worriedly.
“Hey Kelly, you okay?” he called, glancing at Cody.
Cody paused, eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t she be?” he asked softly.
The man looked like someone who hadn’t been out in the sun enough. “No offense, mister,” he said evenly, surveying Cody’s torn suit, the bruises and cuts. “You just don’t look like you belong in this neighborhood.”
Cody’s irrepressible smile broke through. “You got that right,” he said. He turned away and went on, while the man strode toward the house.
“Hi, Glenn,” he heard Tammy say with a singular lack of enthusiasm as Cody was getting into his car. “Could you maybe throw some pitches for me?”
“Sure, kiddo,” Glenn answered, stopping on the porch to watch Cody. “But first I want to talk to your mother for a minute.”
The lady’s suitor, Cody thought as he peeled away from the curb. And a jealous one, at that. “Well, you can have her, buddy,” he whispered to himself, easing back into highway traffic, where he felt more at home. “Believe me, she’s all yours.”
Still, he had to force himself not to look back.
It wasn’t until the next morning that he found the cell phone on the floor of the passenger’s seat in his car. He knew right away it was hers. So how was he going to get it back to her without risking entanglements?
Easy. He’d take it over to her house mid-afternoon when she’d likely be at work.
He drove up to her house a few hours later, planning to leave the phone on her front porch or in her mailbox. But the first thing he saw was her daughter Tammy, throwing a ball against the garage door and catching it. He debated driving on, but that was no good. With a sigh, he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.
“Hey, slugger,” he said as he unfolded his body from the low sports car seat. “Still looking for someone to play catch with?”
Tammy pushed her cap back and tilted her head to the side. “You’re that gambler guy, aren’t you?”
Cody nodded solemnly.
Tammy held the ball up. “Wanna play?” She sounded more grudging than hopeful.
He shook his head. “Sorry, Tammy. I’m looking for your mother. Is she inside?”
“Nope,” she said back. “She’s not home yet.”
“Aw.” He brightened. “Too bad.”
She took a step in his direction and looked at him curiously. “Are you going to ask her out on a date?”
His eyes widened. “Uh…do you think I should?”
She nodded solemnly and asked, quite confidentially, “Do you have any kids?”
That startled him. “No. No I don’t.”
She looked pleased. “Good.”
He frowned, bemused by her matter-of-fact attitude. “Let me get this straight. Are you trying to set me up with your mom?”
“Maybe.” She sighed and her shoulders drooped. “She needs somebody. Once I go away to softball camp, she’ll be all alone.” She made a face. “And I’m scared that Suzy’s dad, Mr. Waxman, will try to marry her.”
Cody put on a
wise look. “And you don’t want that.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently. “He’s a creep.”
He raised an eyebrow, holding back a smile. “How do you know I’m not a creep?”
She made a choking sound and rolled her eyes.
He grinned. “But maybe I’m not good enough for your mom. She’s pretty special, isn’t she?”
She nodded. “She likes you, though. I could tell.”
“Uh huh. That puts you one up on me,” he muttered.
“So are you gonna?”
“Ask her out?” He hesitated, grimacing. See, this was just what he’d been afraid of. Entanglements. “Maybe.” It didn’t pay to raise expectations. And once he’d said the word, he realized it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibilities.
Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at him speculatively. “I don’t go to softball camp until July. You have a few months.”
“Do I?” He grinned. “Gee, thanks.”
She shrugged. “No problem.”
He had to admire her moxie. She seemed to take after her mother all the way. But that reminded him—he wanted to get out of here before her mother arrived.
“So, listen, I’ve got to get going. I just dropped by to give you this.” He pulled the cell phone out. “It was in my car. I think you’re mother must have dropped it yesterday.”
“Oh yeah. She said she couldn’t find her phone this morning.” Tammy took the item as he handed it over and slipped it into her own pocket. “I’ll give it to her.” She looked at him quizzically. “You don’t want to wait for her? She should be home any minute now.”
He shook his head and began to turn toward his car. “Got no time. See you around, kid.”
Tammy watched him go, her pretty young face expressionless, and he felt the guilt building as he backed the car out of the drive. He had plenty of time. He could stick it out and see her again. But he’d decided he wasn’t going to do that. Hadn’t he? Better to get out while the getting was good.
*** *** *** ***
