No. She had to put her raging hormones on hold. There was no time for men. She had tomatoes to tie up, a brother to save, a law degree to get, and oh yeah, she’d sworn off men for the next two lifetimes. It had originally been six lifetimes, but after her reviving hormones made their presence known, she’d decided to be reasonable. Two was more reasonable.
“Can’t. I need to finish here,” she said.
He glanced around. “So this was your brainchild?”
Macy shrugged. “I read about one like it in a magazine. It just seemed…doable.”
“He told me about the produce donated last year to shelters. You should be proud.”
“It’s done well, but not because of me. The community rallied behind it. We’ve got about eight churches that volunteer, even…” She brushed a mosquito from her face and looked up at him, remembering. “Sister Beth said you looked—”
“Did you take the church’s job offer?” he interrupted.
“I couldn’t say no. Father Luis said he’d work with me on my school schedule. They’re turning it into a paid position.”
“So, you’re quitting the pizza-delivery business?”
“Not exactly. With what the church can pay, I’ll still have to work part-time.”
“How about cooling it for a while? Just until Tanks is caught.”
“You make it sound as if you think he’ll be caught soon.”
“I do. Escapees are usually taken down…” He paused. “I mean—”
The fear for Billy that she’d been holding at bay hit full force in a wave. “What’s going to happen to my brother?”
She didn’t need to ask. Even the best-case scenario said Billy’s prison sentence would be drawn out considerably. But maybe she wanted someone to lie to her.
“If we can get him to turn himself in, it’ll go easier,” he replied.
Okay, so Baldwin was one of the honorable types who wouldn’t lie. But at least he’d tried to sound positive. She dropped down on her knees beside the next tomato plant. Its smell flavored her frustrated gasp of air. Snatching up a strip of material, she wrapped it around the stem.
“I feel helpless,” she said. “He doesn’t call me, and if he did…He’s stubborn.”
“Must be a family trait.” Baldwin’s knees popped as he bent down on the other side of the tomato plant. Slipping his hand into it, he held the stem to the stick for her to tie. “I don’t want you delivering pizzas right now.”
“Why? Tanks knows where I live. I’m probably safer at work than home.” She wrapped the strip of yellow cotton around the stake and tied it.
“He knows where you work, too.”
Baldwin’s tense tone had her studying him through the green tomato leaves. “How do you know that?”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak.
“What are you not telling me?” She fell back on her bottom. “Is Billy okay?”
“I haven’t heard anything about Billy.” Baldwin stood up.
“Tell me what you know. It’s our deal. Remember?” She raised her gaze. The sun came from behind him, making her blink. Her eyes began to water, and she blamed it on the glare. Then she blamed it on herself. Everything on herself. If she’d visited Billy from the beginning none of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have been so lonely that he got involved with Ellie. Tanks wouldn’t have threatened him.
It was all her fault.
Jake looked at Macy. She had tears in her eyes and a smudge of dirt across her cheek—and he’d never wanted to kiss a woman so badly in his life. “I got called to a case last night. Which is why Donaldson was at your house and—”
“What does that have to do—?”
“A man was murdered last night.”
Her eyes widened. “Billy?”
“No. I told you I didn’t know anything more about him. It wasn’t Billy.” Jake stepped between the rowed plants and knelt down beside her. “But when Billy called me, he said that Tanks had killed someone else. And the reason your brother went looking for you at work was that he found a phone book with the address of Papa’s Pizza marked.”
“My work address?” Her face lost a little color.
He watched her struggle not to cry, to not be afraid. She looked back at the tomato plants, snatched up the strips of material, and moved to the next plant. He’d never seen a woman work so hard to hide her vulnerability. Right then he knew he’d never met a woman like Macy. So yin and yang. So sweet yet sassy. So soft yet hard. So self-reliant but ready to embrace the needs of others. So afraid but courageous.
“You okay?” He moved next to her.
“What choice do I have? I have to be okay. Just tired of being freaking helpless!”
He dropped down and reached in to hold the plant close to the stake. She tied the stem. Then she moved to the next.
For thirty minutes, they worked together. He held. She tied. They seldom spoke. But whenever their hands met inside a tomato plant, he felt the power of their touch. She felt it, too. He knew because she’d raise her gaze to his. Once he even brushed his thumb over her knuckles. As they worked, he found himself thinking that his father would have liked her. It was, Jake realized, the measuring stick he judged women by when they crossed the line from just somebody to somebody special. Macy was special. How she’d moved to this level in such a short time, he didn’t know. He hadn’t even slept with her. While his first instinct was to search for his mental brakes again, his second instinct brought him up short.
Go for the ride, a voice whispered in his head.
They finally came to the end of the row. Jake stood and knocked the dirt from his knees. “You need to eat some lunch. Let me take you somewhere.”
“I’m not hungry,” she insisted.
“Did you eat breakfast?” he asked.
“I grabbed a yogurt.”
“That’s not enough. Let me take you out for a burger.”
She tilted her chin back. “You’re not my keeper, Baldwin.”
“Yeah, but I’m considering the position.” He wiped his thumb over the mud on her cheek. Then he let his hand move behind her neck. She was sweating, and all those soft moist curls of her hair rested on the back of his hand. He fought the desire to press his lips to her neck, to taste her with a hint of sweat on her skin, knowing she’d taste just like that when he got through making love to her.
“I’m not taking applications,” she growled.
“Good, because I don’t much care for competition.”
“You’re not listening to me.” She brushed his hand from her neck. “I don’t want…this.” She motioned between her and him.
Jake had never lacked confidence, but her words dinged his ego. Thankfully, his ego was pretty thick. “You need me, Pizza Girl.”
“I need your protection. Agreed. I need someone who’ll keep me informed about my brother. But that’s all I need, Baldwin. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “I just don’t believe it. We’ve got something between us. Chemistry, fate—I don’t know what to call it. I don’t even know where it’s leading, but I’d like to take the ride to find out.”
“I’ve been on that ride, and I don’t like where it leads.” She turned to go.
“You didn’t go with me.”
“You’re all alike,” she said over her shoulder.
“That’s not fair.”
“Who told you life is fair?” She started walking.
Jake decided not to push. “What time will you be home?”
“You’re not my keeper,” she repeated. She didn’t look back.
He let her go. For now. But not for long. This ball-busting, conniving, sassy gardener who worried about feeding the poor had gotten under his skin, and he planned to keep her there.
Jake stood in the middle of the garden for a few minutes thinking about how his dad would have liked Macy, and then he started for his car. The black sedan of Agent Mimms caught his gaze. He walked over and motioned for the FBI
man to roll down the window. It stayed up. He gave the dark glass a tap. Nothing.
His gaze caught the back door on the other side, which had been left ajar. Damn! He grabbed his Glock from his shoulder holster and raced around. Hit with an adrenaline rush, he jerked the door open. Agent Mimms lay slumped over the steering wheel. Then Jake saw the blood.
The smell and sound of bacon frying woke Billy up around noon. Ellie stood by the stove. Andy’s dog Spike sat beside her.
“Okay, one more.” Ellie dropped the dog a piece of bacon. “But no more, or there won’t be enough for breakfast.” The dog cocked his head and she chuckled. “You’re too cute. I guess I didn’t need any anyhow.” She gave the dog another piece.
Billy smiled. How a person could be so miserable and exhilarated at the same time, he didn’t know. But that’s what he was, caught in a tug-of-war of emotions. His gaze shifted to Ellie’s backside, which was encased in a pair of cutoff jeans. The memory of last night took his normal morning hard-on up a notch.
Sex with Ellie had been the best he’d ever had. He knew why, too. They hadn’t just had sex. They’d made love. Twice. Billy dropped his chin on the pillow. There wasn’t a place on her body that he hadn’t kissed and tasted. And he’d done it slow, the way he’d heard women liked.
Oh, she’d liked it. A sense of pride brought on another smile. Too bad it had to end.
He flung himself over and stared at the ceiling.
“You’re awake?” Ellie dashed across the room and wriggled that soft body down beside him. “You hungry?” She kissed him.
“Yeah, but you’ve fed Spike all the bacon,” he complained with a smile. “Is Andy here?” Curling his hand around her waist, he thought that maybe they could postpone breakfast.
“Yeah, he’s in his room, and he went by the store. We’ve got eggs and bacon and toast!”
Billy’s stomach ached with the hollowness of hunger, but his heart ached from knowing his time with Ellie was almost over. “It smells good.”
“Then come eat.” She shot upright and tugged on his hand.
He pulled her back to the sofa, and she fell against him. Chasing away thoughts of getting her naked, he concentrated on what he needed to ask—things he’d thought about last night after she’d fallen asleep.
“How well did you know David?”
She frowned. “I never loved him. We never even…you know.”
Relief washed over him, but that wasn’t what he needed to know. Billy ran his hand up her arm, wanting to memorize how she felt. “Where do you think he’s at? Where would he go?”
“I thought you said you knew where he was going.”
He hadn’t told her about last night, except that he’d waited for David to show up, and he hadn’t. The less she knew the better. “I’m thinking he might have gone somewhere else.”
She hesitated. “He might go to his ex-girlfriend’s house. I think her name is Jamie Clay. I don’t know where she lives, but she works at Girls Galore. The strip club.”
Right then Billy knew he had to find a way to get into that club. He recalled the fake IDs he’d stuffed under his mattress at home. Would they still be there? Would the cops be watching Nan’s place?
There was only one way to find out.
His gun gripped tight, Jake touched Agent Mimms’s neck to check for signs of life. The skin felt warm. Warm was good. A slight flutter danced beneath the man’s skin. A pulse! Thank God. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked.
Jake cut his eyes around, looking for the person who could have done this, but the streets stood empty. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and, hitting the button, spat out his name and badge number, and then: “Officer down. I need an ambulance and backup.” He gave the names of the cross streets, then moved out of the backseat and opened the front door to get a better look at Mimms. Blood covered one side of his face, but at least the man was breathing.
Jake could think of only one reason the man had been attacked: Macy. His gaze zipped back to the church. Where was she? His heart slammed against his rib cage. Then he spotted Father Luis jogging down the steps.
Jake stepped back and yelled to the priest, “Find Macy. Get her inside!”
Instead of listening, the priest bolted over. “What? Macy left. She went to Nan’s yoga place. What’s—?” His gaze shifted to Agent Mimms. “Dear God, what happened?”
“She left?” Jake stared up and down the street. “When?”
“A few minutes ago. Is he okay?”
“I’ve called for help.”
Jake snapped open his phone and hit buttons until he found Agent James’s number. He made the call. “Answer, damn it!” Beside him, the priest knelt down next to the injured FBI man—to pray or check on him, Jake didn’t know. He hoped both.
“Agent James,” the Fed finally answered.
“It’s Baldwin. Someone got to Agent Mimms.”
Agent James started spouting questions, but Jake cut him off and told him their location. “He’s alive. I’ve called for backup. Got an ambulance on its way. Macy Tucker has driven away, however. They probably followed her. I’m going after her.”
“Is the scene clear?” Agent James asked.
“Looks clear.” He straightened and took in his surroundings again.
“Not good enough! Don’t you dare leave my man alone.”
Jake hung up. Police procedure demanded he stay. His heart said go. In the distance, sirens blared. Music to Jake’s ears.
“I’m going after Macy,” he yelled to the priest after he’d run halfway across the street. “Where’s her grandmother’s yoga school, anyway?”
“Two miles down on the right. Past the second light, beside the Target.”
A patrol car squealed to halt and an officer jumped out. Jake held out his badge and pointed to Agent Mimms’s sedan. “He’s FBI,” he called, dashing for his car. “Medics are on their way.”
He crawled into his vehicle, ignoring the backup officer’s questions, then sped off. He kept a lead foot on the gas pedal. God, let him get there in time.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Macy walked into Nan’s yoga studio, all the lights were off and the blackout shades were down. The smell of burning incense and a lone jasmine-scented candle flickering in the darkness told her a class was about to begin.
She slipped through front area to peek into the back, into the yoga room. Inching open the door, she expected to give Nan just a little wave. Before she could peer inside, someone caught her elbow.
Tanks?
Macy swung around, knee raised and ready, when…“Nan, you scared—”
“Thank heavens you’re here.” Her grandma pulled Macy across the room to the stairs to the second level. She ascended.
“What’s up?” Macy bounded up the steps to keep pace.
“Your mom’s up. Really up. Not that I’m not happy about it, but I have a class.” She opened the door at the top of stairs, and the sunlight pouring in the room beyond made Macy blink. Today Nan wore lime green leggings paired with a purple shirt that read don’t worry. JUST HIDE THE BODY.
“She’s what?” Macy glanced away from Nan’s shirt into the empty office and makeshift lunchroom. The door from the small bathroom creaked open and her mom stepped out, humming. See? Even her mother knew the singing rule.
But, something wasn’t right. Faye Moore didn’t hum. She normally was too busy crying.
“Mace!” Her mom said, sounding like a giddy teenager. “Oh, goodie. I need your help.”
Goodie? Faye Moore didn’t hum, and she didn’t say goodie either.
Okay, an “up” mom would require some getting used to. But seeing her mom smile, Macy decided she could deal with it. “Help with what?” She glanced at Nan for a hint.
Her mom spoke. “I didn’t know what color would look good, so I got them all. Except the blonde. I don’t see myself as a blonde.”
Macy’s gaze fell to a nearby table where at least ten Nice ’n Easy boxes lined up like soldiers.
“You’re dyeing your hair?”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me I’d gone gray?” Her mom ran her fingers through her grizzled curls. “You’ll help, right?”
“Me? Don’t you remember the time I did Nan’s hair?”
Macy’s grandmother chuckled. “I liked that shade of purple.” Then she pointed to the bags crowding the room’s love seat. “She bought clothes, too.”
“Clothes?” Macy plopped down in a chair. Her mom never bought clothes. Whenever Macy would say something about tossing out a blouse or a dress, her mother would say, Your dad loves this. Loves! Not loved.
Her mom picked up a box of hair dye. “I think all we have to do is mix bottle A with bottle B, after we decide what color.”
“I have a class,” Nan reminded them. “I leave you in good hands.” On her way out, she whispered to Macy, “No purple.”
Nan bounced down the stairs. Macy’s gaze flickered from the table of Nice ’n Easy to her mother. “Why are you doing this?”
Instantly, Macy wished she could take back the words, scared her mom would back out and, in a small way, also scared she wouldn’t. Change was frightening, even good change. For some half-baked reason, Macy’s thoughts shot to Baldwin, to their hands touching in the tomato plants to the possibilities of where those electric sensations could lead.
No! She didn’t want change. Especially not that kind. She’d tried that lifestyle on for size, hadn’t she? It fit like a too-tight thong. She’d married Tom, believed in love, honor, and “until death do you part.” In her case, death had been his secretary.
“You don’t think I should dye my hair?” her mother asked with a sniffle.
No, not the tears. “Yes, I do.” Macy tossed Baldwin into the darkest corner of her mind, where no doubt she’d return to him later.
Her mom’s eyes continued to tear. “Your dad wouldn’t like it, would he?” Sniffle.
Macy frantically searched for the right words, something short that encompassed her exact feelings. Advice from the heart.
“Screw that bastard!” Faye Moore snapped, taking the words from Macy’s lips. Her mom scrubbed a tear from her cheek. “Screw him and his gold panning. Screw him for walking out on his family. I’m dyeing my fucking hair. And look!” She pushed back her curls. “I even got my ears pierced with a second hole. I’m considering doing my belly button next.”
Gotcha! Page 15
