“What?” I asked.
She acted nonchalant, but her chin trembled slightly. “He died last year when he was pinned between a forklift and a wall. He was a great guy, and I miss him every day. He always helped me replace light bulbs and other things I couldn’t reach.”
I frowned a little. “Were you two romantically involved?” I asked, my voice coming out more forceful than I wanted.
She blinked twice and then burst out laughing. “No, I tend not to date guys old enough to be my father.”
I grinned sheepishly and bounced on my toes. “I sounded inappropriately possessive, didn’t I?” I asked.
Her gaze locked with mine. “I wouldn’t know about possessive, but I like knowing you feel threatened by someone else being ahead of you in the dating line.”
I stalked back to the couch and squatted, slipping my hand behind her head carefully and tugging her to my lips. When our lips touched, I understood we were both drowning and we only had each other to hold onto. I finally pulled away and rested my forehead against hers.
After a shaky breath, I could speak again. “I’ll fight anyone who thinks they’re ahead of me in the dating line. Kissing you blows my mind and I have no intention of letting anyone take my place at the front of the line,” I whispered.
She ran her hand up the side of my face and smiled shyly. “There’s no one else, Ren. Only you.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding and motioned at the chandelier over the table. “He died and you haven’t had anyone else to change bulbs, right?” Her eyes immediately hit the floor, which was enough of an answer. She couldn’t hide the embarrassment and shame she shouldn’t feel. I rubbed her cheek and I kept my forehead against hers. “It must be hard living by yourself sometimes,” I whispered, hearing her breath hitch in her chest.
“It has its ups and downs. I probably need a handyman,” she said, her defiant tone less prominent than the sadness filling her body.
I lowered my lips again, but I didn’t take more than she was willing to give. I let her end the kiss to help her see what I said next was the truth. “I’ll be your handyman from now on. I’m going to remove the outside bulb and take it to the police station when I go get your van. While we’re waiting for Cinn and Foster I’ll make a list of the bulbs you need replaced. Then I’ll go to the hardware store and buy a new outdoor bulb. Do you have regular bulbs?”
She shook her head. “I’m out of everything but a few low watt energy saver bulbs.”
I studied the room and could see multiple light sources around me with burnt out bulbs. I’m not sure why I never noticed them before, but they stuck out like a sore thumb this morning. I ran the outside of my hand down her face. “I’ll take care of it from now on.”
“At least until you move on,” she said quietly and I froze. I closed my eyes and kept my hand on her face. It only took a few seconds for me to sense she believed with every bit of her heart I would leave.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cat. I know you don’t believe me right now, but it’s the truth.”
I picked up her hand and kissed it, forcing her to hold my eyes. The fear in hers told me it was going to take a lot of convincing before she believed someone could love her, unconditionally.
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Foster asked as I climbed out of his car at Cat’s gallery. “What if you need a ride somewhere?”
I stood, and set the box with the light bulb on the seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ve already called the tire guys to meet me here. There’s no way I can safely jack her van up, pull the tire, and get it back here again without risking someone messing with the van while I’m gone. The van is all Cat has to get around with,” I said. The expression on his face made me chuckle. “Okay, at least the only non-human powered wheels. I would rather you stayed with the girls while I’m gone, just in case.”
He nodded once, but his face held concern. “I don’t feel like this was a random attack, Lorenzo,” he said.
“It wasn’t. Cat thinks it was an ex of hers. I’m not so sure.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I keep asking myself why did he hurt her? He knocked me out, so why didn’t he take her? Or at the very least, swoop in as the hero?”
His mouth made an O. “You’re right. I hadn’t considered it in those terms, but you’re right, chances are he would have either taken her, or played the hero, not left you both hurt.”
I nodded, feeling the knot on the back of my neck. “I can’t say with complete conviction it wasn’t him, but if it was him, and he left her injured, I’ll kill him myself.”
He grimaced. “You probably don’t want to say that too loudly. Someone might use your anger against you with Cat.”
I shrugged. “He already threatened to kill me at the last Little League game. We’re even now.”
“I think you better talk to the cops about this. It’s clear the guy is unpredictable.”
“He’s harmless. An all bark and no bite kind of guy, but if he comes around again, or threatens me again, I’ll get the cops involved.” I picked up the box and held it up. “Though, if the fingerprints on this bulb match a set they have on file then it all might be a moot point.”
“Unless the person wore gloves, but I hope not. It’s better to know who it was than to constantly look over your shoulder.”
I shut the door and waved as he steered back into traffic. My eyes shifted around the empty parking lot and I wondered if I shouldn’t have had him wait with me until the tire guys showed up. I shook off the feeling of being watched. Standing in broad daylight in an empty parking lot with traffic on the street didn’t lend itself to danger. It was time to stop being ridiculous. No one was out to get me.
I set the box down on the sidewalk and jogged to the van to inspect the tire. Last night the tire was flat, but I couldn’t tell why. Today, in the broad daylight, it was easy to see the large gash in it. Someone had purposely slashed this tire to strand Cat at the gallery. Whoever it was didn’t expect her to leave with someone last night.
I closed my eyes to think of possible scenarios. Maybe Xavier slashed the tire and planned to wait until she left the gallery. He would offer her a ride at just the right moment and be her knight in shining armor. Damn, I would have to talk to the cops about him after all. I couldn’t prove it, but I could suggest they check the bulb for his fingerprints. I figured he wouldn’t wear gloves since he isn’t overly smart. I bet the tire was his fault. He would wait for her to leave and then offer her assistance. Except she left with me, and he got angry. He drove to her house while we stopped at the liquor store and was lying in wait. What I couldn’t come to terms with was why he would hurt her. If he knocked me out, then he had her to himself. Unless she fought him off. Maybe they fought and she tipped over. Her head injury keeps preventing her from remembering what happened.
Tires crunched on the gravel driveway and I snapped my head up, my heart pounding. Thankfully it wasn’t anyone to cause me harm. The garage tire truck had arrived and I waved as they maneuvered in next to me. They cut the engine and climbed out.
“You Lorenzo?” one of them asked me.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I agreed, shaking the one guy’s dirty, grease covered hand. “I checked the tire and someone slashed it,” I explained, pointing out the large gash.
The guy with the name ‘Leon’ on his shirt inspected it then stood up and shook his head. “There’s no fixing it either. Good thing we threw a new tire on the truck, just in case.”
I stepped back and the two guys took over. I watched in fascination as they had the van jacked up, the tire off and the new tire on in less than ten minutes. Leon wiped his hands on a cloth which was dirtier than his hands.
“Do you want the old tire?” he asked, as he loaded his tools.
“I have no use for it,” I said, but paused. “On second thought, let’s put it in the back of the van. Her insurance may pay on the replacement cost, but I don’t have her
information with me.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Leon said and he tossed it into the back of the van while his friend stashed the jack and tire changer back on the truck.
Her insurance wouldn’t pay for it, but I wanted the tire as proof someone was after her. My next stop was the cop shop and I planned to show them the tire and the bulb.
“What do I owe you?” I asked the quiet guy when he finished loading the equipment.
Leon stepped in front of the guy instantly. “I got this Mick,” he signed and Mick nodded and climbed back in the driver’s side of the truck.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was deaf,” I said stunned.
Leon laughed. “Trust me, no one does. He reads lips, but numbers are hard, so I take care of the billing.”
I had never considered reading numbers on someone’s lips was harder than most words, but it fascinated me. “I had no idea. I guess it’s my one thing to learn today. Anyway, what’s the damage?”
“I’m afraid it’s not going to be cheap. It will be one fifty for the tire and mounting. If I were you, I would have her take it in somewhere and get the alignment and balancing checked. We can’t promise it’s perfect when we do an onsite job.”
I opened my wallet and handed him three fifties. “No problem, I’ll get it taken care of today. Thanks for coming out to repair it onsite. It saved me having to tow it, so one fifty is more than fair.”
He took my cash and handed me a handwritten receipt. Once they were on their way, I set the box with the light bulbs on the passenger seat. The driver’s side was a bit trickier, but once I figured out how to stash her transfer board behind the driver’s seat and I adjusted the seat backward, I was in business. I took a minute to figure out the hand controls. Even though they were connected to the pedals it appeared I could still use the pedals with my feet. I grabbed my phone quickly and sent her a text. I didn’t want to do any more damage to the van. It had seen better days, but it was all she had.
“The hand controls will go up and down when you use the pedals, but you won’t damage anything,” she texted me back.
I sent her a quick thank you, and told her where I was heading, then put it in reverse. I turned around in the parking lot and signaled left as I drove onto the street. I didn’t want to take the van in for balancing just yet. She might want to get out later today, and we could do it then. She also might have a specific mechanic she likes to use. I didn’t want to overstep my bounds and have her think I was trying to take over her life. I could tell independence was something she has worked hard for, and I didn’t want to make her feel inadequate. It was hard enough for her to concede she needed help with the light bulbs.
I stopped at Hardware Hank and jumped from the van, but I regretted it instantly when my head throbbed. It was like I had a hangover, but missed out on the fun part. I trudged through the door of the hardware store with my list in hand and found the aisle with the light bulbs. I had to grab a basket to put all the bulbs in, considering she had none at home and needed at least ten replaced. Having a supply on hand made more sense than buying them every time one burned out, but I might need a bigger basket.
“Can I help you find anything?” a voice asked.
I swiveled and an older man with graying hair and a generous belly stood next to me. He wore a green vest with a nametag which read, ‘Zach’.
I held the basket up. “My friend is out of light bulbs, so I’m stocking up.”
“Her, you say?” he asked, one brow raised almost to his hairline.
I nodded. “You might know her, actually. She owns a gallery down the street a few blocks.”
“Must be Miss Catalina, if I’m not mistaken.”
I chuckled. “You’re not mistaken. She needed someone to replace a few bulbs at her house.”
He rubbed his chin with his forefinger. “I guess changing light bulbs from a wheelchair might be a real difficult thing to do.” He held his finger up. “You know, I have a light bulb changer pole. Ever seen one of those fandangled things?” he asked, motioning for me to follow him. He strolled down a few more aisles and stopped at the last one which held a myriad of gadgets ‘As Seen on TV’. He picked up a pole and held it out. “It extends to four feet long and it can hold all different kinds of bulbs. All she has to do is put the bulb upside down in the top and twist it in with the pole. If she has to change one she slips the top over the bulb and unscrews it. The fingers at the top grip the bulb and hold it once she gets it loosened.”
I inspected the rubber tipped fingers and steel cable which held the bulb in. “You know, I think this would work great, at least for most of the fixtures. I’ll take this, too. Thanks for thinking of it. She doesn’t like having to ask others to help her all the time.”
He nodded as he sauntered up to the register with me. “I can understand wanting independence. She’s a young woman; you can’t blame her for wanting the little things to be easier in life.”
I set the items up on the counter and shook my head. “She deserves everything in life,” I said, pausing so I didn’t say more. “Hey, do you have a mini toolbox set up around here? Someone stole mine. I only need a hammer and couple screwdrivers. Nothing major, but I want to replace it.”
“I have a six in one hammer. The handle has several screwdrivers in it. Probably all you need in the car for small jobs.”
“Perfect, I’ll take one,” I agreed and he held up his finger as he left the counter. While he searched for a hammer, I checked my phone for a text message from her, but there were none. I opened the phone and typed out a message to my sister.
“I’m at the hardware store and then I’ll stop at the cop shop before I come home. I’ll be home in an hour.”
I sent the message and then slipped the phone in my pocket, and dug out my wallet. He rang everything up and I handed him two fifties. Eighty bucks for light bulbs, a light bulb changer and a hammer was exorbitant, but the light bulb changer would offer her independence which made it worth any price I had to pay.
I took my purchases and held the door open with my back. “Thanks for the help!” I called out and he waved just as the door started to close. One more stop and I could go back to be with her. Unfortunately, stopping at the police station was not a stop I wanted to make. Last year my sister landed herself on the wrong side of the law and now the police station gives me hives. Tabitha has worked hard to turn her life around, but I didn’t know if my last name alone would give them a preconceived notion about the story I had to tell. Up until last night, I’ve kept my nose clean and worked hard for everything I have. I didn’t want some unknown person with a grudge to ruin it for me.
I parked the van and hung my chin to my chest trying to stretch out the muscles which had knotted up in my neck after the attack. I probably needed an icepack and some Advil, but it would have to wait until after I talked to the cops.
I grabbed the box and locked the van then held open the door for a woman leaving the station. The Little Ivywood Police Department boasted an open concept space, with a beat cop at the front desk, and the detectives scattered around behind the main desk. I had already spent more time than I wanted in this place. Behind the detective’s desks sat interrogation rooms and the jail beyond those. The complex was much bigger than it appeared from the front.
I set the box on the counter and waited for the police officer to address me. When he didn’t, I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, I have some possible evidence about a crime reported last night.”
My words did the trick and he eyed me. “Who did you talk to about this crime?” he asked, his fingers posed on the computer.
“Ted Johnson, I believe,” I said, and waited while he typed the name into the computer.
“You believe, or you know?” he asked, his fingers posed over the computer.
“I believe. I had a head injury and things are a little fuzzy.”
He rolled his eyes and typed the guy’s name in anyway, waiting for the file to come up. “While we wait, what
kind of evidence do you have?”
“I would rather explain it only once, if that’s okay,” I said and he shrugged as if to say, ‘Whatever, man’.
He pointed at the bench on the opposite wall. “I’ll send him an alert to come up front. He’s here, but I don’t know where in the complex. Sit down and once he arrives you can show him what you’ve got.”
I picked up the box. “Yes, sir,” I said, wishing my nervousness would stop showing in my voice. I didn’t like admitting to myself cops made me nervous. Why they make me nervous, I don’t know. I hate the crawling feeling in my gut the second I step in the door. Maybe it has to do with unresolved feelings about Tabitha’s brush with the law.
I sat, but I swear the bench was made to be uncomfortable, and the longer I sat on it, the more I had to fight against squirming. My mind drifted back to when I sat on a bench this uncomfortable waiting to see my sister who had been arrested for a shopping bag full of crimes. The detective working her case, Noah Jonas, asked the whole family to come to the station and hear her confession. She then explained she had been blackmailed into doing them, and didn’t know where to turn. I could tell Noah didn’t want to deal with the sobbing, broken woman in his interrogation room, but he did it with fairness and kindness. He was integral in making sure Tabitha stayed safe until her blackmailer could be caught and tried, then afterward in making sure all the conditions of her sentencing were met. Noah plays on intermural softball team for the police and I’ve had to play him on a few occasions. He’s a tough detective and a tougher pitcher, but he earned my respect in the way he dealt with my sister when she was under the gun.
“Lorenzo, is that you?”
I looked up and right into the face of the man himself. I stood. “Hey, Noah, I’m here to see another detective about an incident last night.”
He nodded and without saying a word motioned me back to the interrogation room I sat in with Tabitha. Only it felt like this time I would be the one interrogated. I picked up the box and carried it under one arm as I followed him through the maze of desks and into the room. He closed the door and shut out the sound of the busy station, then motioned at a chair. I set the box down and lowered myself to the seat.
Inherited Light_A Small-Town, California Romance Filled with Dogs, Deception, and Finding True Love Despite Our Imperfections Page 17
