Bad Boy Heroes Boxed Set

by Patricia Ryan

“No, Philip, you’ve done enough.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Aren’t you happy you’re the first choice for the VP?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hey, look, I’m sorry about the Laufler thing. I had no idea the out-sourcing would be a problem.”

  “So you said.” The elevator dinged. “I’ll let you know what happens with Brubeck’s.”

  Margo stepped into the elevator. Don’t jump to conclusions. Take this slow. Figure it out. Maybe it’s just as it appears.

  And pigs fly, Linc would tell her.

  But she needed to think. To piece it together. Not, as she’d told Linc, to go off half-cocked.

  This is new evidence, kiddo. You can’t ignore it.

  I won’t, Margo thought, heading for her office. Oh, I won’t.

  *

  LINC SMILED AS he scanned the five women in his Thursday group. “Morning, ladies.”

  Each uttered a good morning. Anita Camp’s feisty, “You look tired, Rev,” brought Margo to mind. He pushed her out of his thoughts. He was done feeling bad about her. After the wrenching phone call Sunday night, and all the other problems they’d had lately, he vowed he was going to get on with his life. And, damn it, he needed rest. Everybody was commenting on his fatigue lately, and he’d looked like Frankenstein even to himself in the mirror that morning.

  “Been burning the candle at both ends,” he told the women and smiled. “But I’m going to change my ways, ladies.” He looked at the blackboard. “So the topic today is growing old.”

  Anita moaned. “And just when I noticed another wrinkle on my forehead.”

  “You’re still beautiful,” Rosa told her. “I like the way you dress, too.”

  Rosa—who always chose plain, nondescript clothing—had had two visits with the Social Services counselor, and several talks with Annie; already Linc could see she was gaining some self-insight. He was worried about her remaining in the home with Sam, but you couldn’t forcibly drag a woman out of an abusive situation. Still, he wished he could do more.

  “Linc.” Barb Mandarino nodded to the door.

  Henry stood there, big and bulky and with a question in his eyes. Today, he was a little hunched over. Linc wondered if the rain was bothering his back injury.

  “I didn’t know you were coming in this morning, Henry.” Linc smiled pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

  Henry shook his head. His face seemed more lined than usual.

  “Just wanted to let me know you were here?”

  The older man nodded.

  “Good. Maybe you could mop the kitchen floor, then.” Though Linc knew it wasn’t safe to let the man near water, he was afraid Henry would try to clean his office while he worked with the women, and Linc wouldn’t be able to find anything afterward. The last time Henry had straightened up, the room had looked like a battle ground during a jungle counterattack.

  Henry shuffled away.

  “Now, where were we?”

  “We’re growing old,” Mary O’Brien quipped, touching her graying hair. “Fast.”

  Linc laughed. “All right. Let’s brainstorm some of the worst and best things about being older. We can do it on the paper, first, if you like.” The leader of the seminar Linc had attended in New York had suggested that anonymity was useful initially, but he should try to lead the women toward more openness. “However, we’ve been conductin’ this little shindig for several weeks now, and I was hoping we could think about brainstorming out loud.”

  “I think we should do it.” This from Barb Mandarino. “Let’s live a little and actually say what we think.”

  The others smiled at her dry humor and agreed. Linc stood. “All right, I’ll write on the board.” As he picked up the chalk, he heard a door slam and hoped Henry hadn’t gone to the office after all. But Linc wouldn’t go check. He just put it in God’s hands. “I’ll go first. I think not fulfilling your life’s goals is one of the worst things about growing old.”

  “What are your goals, Reverend Linc?” Joanie Jorgensen asked.

  He pivoted. Dimly he was aware of some stomping out in the fellowship hall. Bravely he ignored Henry’s antics. “I’d like a wife and kids.” He watched the women. Workshop presenters called this a teachable moment—where you went off the track, but the new discussion was better than the original and you should pursue it. “Anybody else want to share their goals?”

  “I’d like to be more independent.” This was the same point Ona James had made when she’d suggested her topic for discussion.

  “Ona, what’s standing in your way?”

  “I—”

  “So this is where you go when you sneak out on Thursdays,” a gruff voice barked from behind Linc. He whipped around to find Sam DeMartino looming in the doorway. Rosa’s gasp came on the heels of her husband’s comment. Dressed in baggy pants and a sloppy flannel shirt that was tight around his middle, Sam’s face was a contorted mask of anger. A heavy growth of beard completed the sinister picture.

  “Sam.” Linc set down the chalk. “Can I help you?”

  “I told you to leave my wife alone, Grayson.” He faced Rosa, whose eyes were full of fear. “Come on, Rosa, we’re leavin’ here. And you ain’t never comin’ back. He’s caused us enough problems.”

  Shakily, Rosa stood.

  Linc drew up to his full height, which was considerably less than Sam’s. Okay, God, I need you on this one. Be with me.

  I’m right here, son.

  “Rosa’s having a good talk with us, Sam. She’s not doing anything wrong.”

  “Hell she ain’t. All this talk is ruinin’ my life.”

  Rosa shrunk back. “Don’t swear in church, Sam. I’ll come with you.”

  Jesse James surfaced. Physically Linc placed himself between husband and wife. “Rosa, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  The frightened woman’s gaze shot from him to Sam. She seemed to get the message. If she left with Sam, he’d hurt her. Slowly, she sat back down. Anita Camp, bless her soul, crossed to stand behind Rosa and put her hands on the trembling woman’s shoulder. One by one, Ona, Barb, Mary and Joanie formed a half-circle around the frightened woman.

  Linc faced Sam. “How about if you and I go into my office, Sam? We can talk.”

  Sam shifted unsteadily. It was then that Linc caught a whiff of the booze emanating from him. And his eyes were bloodshot.

  You can handle this, Linc. Stand your ground.

  “Don’t wanna hear what you have to say.” Sam’s eyes lit with fire. “You started this.”

  “If you won’t talk to me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Sam laughed, a gritty, unpleasant sound. “Yeah, and who’s gonna make me?”

  “I am.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Rosa, we’re goin’.”

  “Not right now, Sam.” Though soft, Rosa’s words were determined.

  It all happened fast. An ugly flush ran up Sam’s neck to his face. His hands fisted. He took a step toward Rosa. Linc blocked his way. Thwarted, Sam waited only a split second then bent at the waist and lunged for Linc.

  DeMartino’s huge shoulder rammed into Linc’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Linc fell backward into the blackboard. He went down, his arm twisting behind him. His head banged on the metal chairs and his vision blurred. Sam was on top of him then, grabbing his shirt collar; with one jerk, he smashed Linc’s head into the cold vinyl floor.

  Suddenly, Sam was dragged off of him—had God done that?—and then the world went dark.

  *

  “THAT’S IT, GERTY. Good.” Doc smiled. “Ain’t it almost as pretty as a West Virginia mountain?”

  Beth stared at the flower arrangement Gerty and Doc had made for the entry. They’d joined a garden club, and Beth had been the first recipient of their handiwork. A huge spray of delphinium, along with other exotic flowers, graced the front of the diner.

  “I think it’s those special
lilies you got from New York that do it, Leonard.” Gerty smiled at Doc, and the older man blushed. Beth hid a grin. Ronny. Gerty. Even Linc and Jane. Everybody around her was in love.

  Don’t think about it . “Flowers are so—”

  The door burst open, cutting off her remark.

  Annie rushed inside, her face flushed, her eyes wide. She wore a leotard and tights, over which she’d thrown a tan raincoat. Beth’s brain registered that it was odd her friend didn’t have street clothes on just before she realized something was wrong.

  “Annie, what is it?” Beth hoped nothing had happened with Joe. She was really coming to like the guy again.

  “It’s Linc,” Annie said simply. “He’s been taken to Glen Oaks Hospital by ambulance.”

  In one split second, Beth’s entire world shifted. Sounds, smells, everything was blocked out but Annie’s words. Linc. Hospital. Just like Danny. Beth grasped onto the table. “W-what happened?”

  “Something at church. One of the women from his group called me. All I know is that Linc was knocked unconscious. Rosa was pretty upset, and I couldn’t get much more out of her. Come on, I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  Beth stayed frozen to the spot. Linc. Hurt? It couldn’t be. He was too good to be hurt, too kind…

  Annie was in front of her. “Bethy, honey, are you okay?”

  Beth swallowed hard. Shook herself out of the trance.

  “Look, I know this is a shock. Let’s get to the hospital and see what’s going on.” Annie looked to Gerty. “Can you hold down the fort?”

  “Of course. Go ahead, Beth.”

  Numbly, Beth took her coat from Annie and followed her out the door. Beth was aware that it was raining; she let Annie usher her into the car, strap on her seat belt and start the engine. Annie took her hand as they started to drive. Heavy drops of rain pattered on the roof.

  Over the quiet hush-hush of the windshield wipers, Beth managed to ask, “He’s alive, right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How bad is he hurt?”

  “I really don’t know. Rosa just said he was unconscious.”

  They didn’t talk further on the ten-minute drive, but Annie held her hand all the way.

  Once there, they bounded out of the car and raced into ER. Glen Oaks had a high-tech, top-notch hospital, due to frequent injuries on the race track. That was good, Beth told herself. Having a state-of-the-art hospital was good.

  When she entered the waiting area, Beth remembered being here only a few short weeks ago with Doc and Tucker.

  Then she remembered that Danny had been taken here.

  Oh, God Danny had died here.

  Annie found the nurse, spoke to her, then came back and dragged Beth to the waiting area. “No news yet. He’s still being examined.”

  Determined not to fall apart, Beth nodded and tried to internalize what she’d been told. “What happened? Who called you?”

  “I told you honey, it was—”

  There was movement from the other side of the waiting area. Beth’s gaze was drawn to five women huddled together in a row of chairs. She recognized them as Linc’s women’s group. Slowly one stood and came toward them. “Beth, I’m so sorry.”

  Who was she? “Oh, Rosa. What…what are you sorry about?”

  Rosa’s bleak gaze flew to Annie then back to Beth. “Linc got hurt during our women’s group meeting.”

  “Did he fall down? Henry…he’s always leaving stuff around…water spills all the time…” Beth’s voice drifted off.

  “No, it wasn’t a fall.” Rosa gripped her hands together. “Somebody came in and attacked Linc.”

  “Who would attack Linc? Everybody loves him.”

  Rosa faced her squarely. “It was my husband, Beth. He was mad about me being in the group. And he was drunk.”

  “Oh, no.” This from Annie.

  “I don’t understand.” Beth stared at Rosa.

  Suddenly Annie straightened and slipped her arm around Beth. “Sam was mad and his anger was misplaced. It’s how abusive men are.”

  “I just want my brother to be all right.” Beth felt her stomach pitch. “Is he still unconscious?”

  “We…we don’t know.” Rosa’s voice was raw.

  Beth buried her face in her hands. Pray, Linc would tell her. Pray to God for strength to get through this. Swallowing back the tears, Beth prayed.

  It was an endless amount of time before the doctor came out. Beth recognized Doctor Jacobs, a neurologist, from the diner. “Beth?”

  She stood. So did Annie—who wrapped an arm around Beth’s shoulders again.

  “Your brother’s condition is stabilized, but he has some injuries. He’s still unconscious. And his arm is broken.”

  “Unconscious? After all this time?”

  “Yes, we’re surprised about that. We’re taking him down for a CAT scan now. There’s a large bump on the back of his head, but we’re not sure what’s wrong.” He glanced at the clock. “We should know in a few hours. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. I’ll bring you news as soon as I can.” He looked to Annie. “I suggest you wait down the hall, in the family emergency area. It’s private and more comfortable. You’ll be here awhile.”

  Stunned, Beth stared after him as he left, then looked at Annie. “That’s all? We just wait?”

  “I think so. But we, um, should call Margo.”

  “Margo?” Linc was that bad? Oh, God. Get a grip Beth, she told herself. “All right.”

  “What about Ronny?”

  “He’s on a field trip to the Math Museum in New York. He won’t be back until four. Linc was going to pick him up at school and take him to the lake for his community service.” Beth’s voice broke on the last word. Still, she held back the emotion.

  “Then for now, we’ll go where the doctor said and call Margo from there.” Annie glanced over to the women. “We’re heading back to the family waiting area. You’re welcome to come.”

  Each shook their heads. “We’ll wait here,” Anita Camp said for the group.

  Slowly Annie led Beth to the waiting area; it was new and hadn’t been here when Danny had died. A pleasant room, it sported soft blue-striped wallpaper, three stuffed couches and several chairs. Beth could smell the coffee brewing in the corner, see the rain hit the three huge windows off to the side. How many times had Linc waited here, counseled families here? How many fears had he quelled with his soft assurances, how many souls had he soothed, gently assuring them God was with them? Annie sat her down, then crossed to a small desk and picked up the phone.

  Shaking her head, Beth lay back against the couch and closed her eyes. Oh, God, how could this be happening?

  *

  “HOW COULD THIS happen, Tom? I don’t understand.” Margo tapped a pencil on the desk as she spoke to the product distribution manager. She’d been unable to get an answer to this problem the day before and she was not happy.

  “I don’t know, Margo. All I know is the date of delivery on my order form is different from yours.”

  “I’ve got my paperwork in front of me.” The button on the phone, signifying another call, lit up. Margo ignored it. “We need to meet on this.”

  Philip came to the doorway. She waved him in.

  “I can do it after lunch,” Tom told her. “Shall I come up there?”

  “That would be fine. Bring your forms.”

  As she hung up, she sighed. “That was Tom Newman. Seems the paperwork is screwed up on the Brubeck order.”

  Philip loosened the striped tie he wore with a pristine white shirt and soft wool sport coat. “How’d that happen?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll find out after lunch.” She shrugged into her gray jacket and fixed the scarf she’d worn over the pink silk T-shirt. “I’m going to go…”

  Margo’s group assistant appeared at the doorway. “Margo, there’s a call for you on line two.”

  “Can you take a message, Joanie?”

  Joanie’s pretty face scowled. “When you
didn’t pick up, I tried to. The woman said she’s from Glen Oaks and it’s an emergency.”

  Margo’s fingers gripped the edge of the desk; one of her rings bit into her hand. Beth. Or Annie. She whipped up the phone and pressed the button. “Yes?”

  “Margo, it’s Annie. I’m at Glen Oaks Hospital. Linc’s been hurt.”

  Margo’s breath stopped in her throat. “Linc? Hurt?” She clutched the phone with an icy palm. “How bad?”

  “We’re not sure. Seems some irate husband of a woman in his self-esteem group came to church and plowed into him. He’s unconscious, and they’re doing a CAT scan.”

  “Unconscious? How long has he been unconscious?”

  “Rosa, the guy’s wife, called me at ten.”

  Margo glanced at her watch. It was almost noon. “Two hours. That’s not good, is it, Annie?”

  “No, honey, it’s not good. I think you should come home.”

  “I’ll catch the next train.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  Margo hung up and smoothed down her skirt. Adjusted her belt. Woodenly, she reached into the drawer and got her purse.

  Philip asked, “What’s happened?”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  When she circled the desk, he stopped her with a firm grip on her shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”

  “That was my friend Annie. Apparently Linc’s been hurt. I’ve got to go to Glen Oaks right away.”

  “How badly?”

  Margo never cried. Absolutely never. She drew in a deep breath and willed back the emotion threatening to swallow her up. “I don’t know. He’s unconscious.”

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” He stepped aside. “I’ll come with you to the station, get you on a train.”

  “No, Philip. You don’t have to do that.”

  “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She glanced around the office. “I’ve, um, got work. A meeting with Tom this afternoon.”

  Taking charge, he opened her closet and got her raincoat. “We’ll have Joanie reschedule things, or I’ll deal with it.”

  Draping her hooded coat around her shoulders, he escorted her out of the office, holding her arm tightly.

  She was too shaken to protest. Even her legs were wobbly.