With Her Last Breath

by Cait London

  Maggie ignored the question. Scout was at Tony’s house and she’d sent Jerry on a “necessary errand”: Jerry didn’t want to go into the grocery store for feminine supplies. And she’d said she wasn’t coming out of the bathroom until he got what she wanted. Once Jerry had left the house, Maggie had hurried to Lorna’s. “What do you know, Lorna?”

  “We’re going to have to play this my way, got it? Come on back.”

  Maggie followed Lorna through the elegant house to a well-stocked workout room. The punching bag was still swinging. “Let’s have it.”

  “I hear Nick’s winery was pretty well smashed.”

  Maggie nodded; it was hard to miss the big crime-scene van parked next to the winery and all the yellow ribbon blocking off entrances to the place.

  Lorna moved to a large framed mirror. At the touch of a hidden button, it swung open and a gush of cool air swept against Maggie. With an assessing look, Lorna folded her arms in front of her chest. “You’d fight for him, wouldn’t you?”

  “If this is—”

  “You’re going to have to take this package as I give it to you. I’m mixed up and know it. Therefore, I do mixed-up things. I’ve got two rotten marriages behind me, and Vinnie—”

  “Vinnie?” The name shocked Maggie. Was it possible that Nick’s own cousin—?

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. Vinnie is a good guy. He understands me and he doesn’t ask anything. He got me started on kickboxing to defend myself. I was a pampered butt once and I liked being a spoiled rich bitch. Maybe I still do. You were right. Nick was someone I couldn’t have—more of a challenge than anything else. Vinnie thinks my father soured me for most men.”

  Lorna paused briefly and then continued as if nothing could stop her admission, “I’m Vinnie’s girlfriend. I have been through everything, and he hasn’t pointed any fingers at me. We work out at night, sometimes put a car together, and I like welding and machines, something Daddy wouldn’t understand. I got a little worked up over this whole thing last night when we were practicing kickboxing and punched Vinnie too hard. My aim was off. I just wasn’t focused. He’s wearing a black eye this morning and I really feel bad about that. It was an accident.”

  She flicked on a switch, and light sprang from the stairway leading downward. She entered the stairway and paused to look up at Maggie. “Sixty degrees. A private cellar. And well stocked. Enough to help Nick meet some orders. It’s the only thing that Vinnie ever asked of me—to help Nick. Vinnie said he understood about me holding the twenty acres of Nick’s land. Just keeping something that someone else really wanted. If you think that I’m going to get you down here and do something weird, forget it.”

  Her voice lost that hard tone and shifted to a softer one. “Vinnie wouldn’t stand for that, and I guess I love him. He’s sweet, the kind of deep-down sweet that nothing is going to change. What I have or don’t have, or how I act, doesn’t make any difference to him. And he doesn’t make fun of my cooking, either. I always wanted to learn how, and oh, no, Daddy and my ex-husbands had to hire a cook for ‘the image.’”

  Stunned, Maggie slowly descended the stairs after Lorna. Cases of Nick’s wines were stacked everywhere. Lorna’s tone turned defensive again. “I said I had problems. I was thinking at the time that if I couldn’t get the man, I’d get part of something he loved.”

  Lorna pivoted to Maggie and shoved a fat file of papers at her. “I called in a few favors and they acted as buyers for me. Receipts, purchase dates. I’m ready to title those twenty acres back to him, too. You’ve got to promise you won’t spread this around. Talk to Nick and get this to go down smooth—that’s what you’re for—he’s in love with you. Any idiot can see that. The wines have aged and they’re good. The thermostat daily readouts are in the file. This room has been kept at a perfect temperature—I simply enlarged after Daddy died. Nick ought to make a profit off them as a special, private stock sale. He can pay whenever. Or not. I don’t care. This is for Vinnie. And maybe for me, too. But I don’t want this to get out,” she added fiercely. “I’d look like a stupid fool.”

  Amazed at Lorna’s admission and her kindness, Maggie asked softly, “Lorna, why don’t you want people to know how very special you are?”

  For the first time, Lorna’s brisk, tough attitude crumpled and tears welled in her eyes. “It started a long time ago with dear old Dad. The family image wasn’t sweet and wholesome when no one else was around. You learn how to protect yourself as a kid and then it just gets deeper, the need to be special and wanted, to make that old man proud of me. Vinnie doesn’t want us to go public because he says his image will hurt me. He said people will think he’s after my money—what a load of macho dumb duck dung.”

  This woman faced her own struggle with life, just as Maggie had. Where Glenda did not have the inner strength to depend on herself, Lorna had had a lifetime of trying.

  Maybe, just maybe, Maggie should have let Glenda do her own fighting. Maybe as an older sister, she’d protected Glenda too much, so that when the time came, she couldn’t make the right choices.

  Maggie shook herself free of the past and said, “Lorna, you are special. And I know it. I’ll talk to Vinnie.”

  “If you hug me, the deal is off. I’ve got a little favor to ask though. It won’t cost or hurt,” she added quickly.

  “Anything. Meanwhile, I’ve got to go see if Jerry has found my brand of tampons yet. You asked how I got rid of him. That’s how. What’s the favor?”

  Lorna looked down and spoke quietly. “I’m rich and I’ve never really dealt with an everyday working woman’s problems. There’s a big gap of understanding about life between Vinnie and me. I want to get a job and I want to learn how to cook. I thought maybe you could help me get into both—maybe a job at Journeys, if it’s okay with Beth, and maybe have Mrs. Alessandro teach me how to cook. And if you laugh, I’ll clobber you and the deal is off.”

  “I’m not laughing, but you’ve got to promise not to tell Jerry that I just wanted to get rid of him, sending him to get fem supplies. He was disgusted, but at least he thought he was helping me and I was safe. It wouldn’t do to let him know that I’d come here meanwhile, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  Lorna’s generosity and that knowing smile about male aversions and how to use them held a warmth that carried Maggie through the morning.

  At the winery, Nick was busy with investigators amid the shambles of his business. He looked tired and drained, but drew her against him for a brief kiss. He continued to hold her tight as if nothing could happen to her.

  “So this is your fiancée?” the investigator interviewing Nick asked. The man’s badge read DETECTIVE RON SIMMONS.

  Because Maggie didn’t want to argue the point before she’d made Lorna’s case, she nodded and smiled up at Nick brightly. He blinked and frowned and stared at her blankly. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, honey,” she managed sweetly, innocently. “If you don’t need me here, I think I’ll go home. I’m a little tired.”

  Nick’s blush was fascinating, because he knew the reason for her fatigue—last night’s marathon lovemaking to keep his mind from his winery. “Uh. Just so you know, I haven’t had time to move the camper. Uh…do you mean home as in the house?”

  She didn’t want to start an argument now, in front of the detective, and nodded. “You silly thing. You’re all upset, aren’t you? Why don’t you just take care of the detective here, and I’ll see you later?”

  Nick relaxed a bit, smiled, and shared a man-to-man look. “I was supposed to do that today. Then this came up. One of those honey-do things.”

  The detective, a middle-aged man wearing a wedding ring, nodded sagely and stepped in to protect one of the brotherhood. “Ma’am, take it easy on the guy. He’s just lost a hell of a lot of income. Those honey-do jobs will have to wait. And he’s going to have to do something about that incoming crop, and his equipment has been vandalized.”

  Maggie gave him her brightest a-man-
knows-best smile. “Thank you, Detective. That’s good advice.”

  Nick’s puzzled frown at her deepened. He was still frowning when she kissed him goodbye.

  After a session of explaining every detail of a woman’s cramps to Jerry, her bodyguard settled in Nick’s living room to watch a ball game, thus effectively avoiding more information and giving Maggie the privacy she needed.

  Then Maggie set to work. First she called Beth in Iowa for an update.

  But before Maggie could speak, Beth had her own happy update: “I think I’m pregnant. We did it on Celeste’s bed with candles and everything. It’s too early for a test, but Jeff has what it takes. Just within minutes of meeting him, I knew she was right. I knew he was the guy for me, and I am so in love. While we were doing it, I just got this warm snugly feeling, just like all of me was ready and revved. He said he didn’t want to take a chance I might get away from him, and he was ready to plow and seed and take possession of what was born to be his. Gosh, he’s romantic. And Celeste’s cats love the farm’s big barn. Who would know?”

  Apparently recovered from the lesson on women, Jerry went out to his pickup to retrieve Celeste’s plants. While he slumped by Maggie in his surly slave attitude, carrying the plants, Beth raved on about Iowa and Jeff. Maggie enjoyed every delightful word; Beth deserved every happiness.

  “Beth, there’s been some trouble here, and I want you to stay put. There’s no reason for you to be here, and I’ve found someone to work at Journeys.” Maggie thought it best not to mention Lorma at the moment. “I’m staying at Nick’s for a little while, trying to help. This is what happened…”

  When Maggie finished, Beth stated firmly. “I am coming back.”

  After a brief argument, Beth agreed to stay in Iowa, with the condition that Maggie was to call with updates.

  Maggie’s next call was to Vinnie. He was wary. “Yeah, sure. If you think it hurts Lorna to keep what we have going on as a secret, I sure don’t want that. Maybe it is time we shook up the town. Lorna would like that.”

  “She loves you, Vinnie. She’s terribly proud of you.”

  Maggie shook her head. Beth, Lorna, and Vinnie were one thing; Nick another. He wasn’t going to like her proposal to let Lorna help, and Maggie intended to make it easier for him to digest.

  She was just directing Jerry to arrange Celeste’s plants in the living room, taking advantage of the muted light, when the telephone rang.

  Maggie hurried to answer it, because if Nick needed her…The harsh deep breathing on the other end wasn’t welcome, and Nick didn’t need more trouble. “Ed, if you don’t stop your little joke, I am personally going to flatten you. And if you had anything to do with the winery getting destroyed, you are going to pay in more ways than one.”

  The line clicked off and Maggie frowned. Now was a poor time for Ed to play games. His feet were definitely larger than tens, but that didn’t eliminate him from being suspect—somehow.

  The police were searching for Leo and hadn’t found him; he had a few enemies, they’d discovered, and a few friends on the wrong side of the law. And, according to Lorenzo’s information, Leo wore size ten shoes, the same size as the boot tracks in the wine. If Leo was around, Maggie hoped they caught him soon.

  While the police worked on the investigation, Maggie had a very different and tough job ahead of her. Right now, she had to deal with how to get Nick to accept Lorna’s offer of the wine…and he wouldn’t be happy.

  The sun was round and burning, setting over the lake when Nick at last arrived home. Totally drained, he pulled his pickup into the parking space beside Maggie’s small white truck. Careful not to bruise the bouquet of roses for Maggie that Dante had delivered to him at the winery, Nick checked her door locks to see that they were secure and untampered. Nick’s request for the roses had been met by his brother’s knowing laughter.

  The camper was still against the house, the door padlocked as he had left it. He noted the goddess wind chime from Celeste’s house turning in the early evening breeze, and considered it a sign that Maggie was inside.

  He didn’t understand her sweet-innocent act in front of Simmons. More than likely, he was in for trouble when Maggie got him alone.

  She needed protection, Nick thought as his determination wavered just that bit. Sometimes Maggie just didn’t know what was good for her, but in this case, he knew better.

  Carrying his briefcase and the make-up roses, and feeling as if all he wanted to do was to hold Maggie, Nick stepped onto the back deck. He stopped and looked at the jumble of potted plants.

  The back door opened and Jerry rushed out, scowling at Nick. “I’m outa here.”

  “Problems?”

  “None that I want to talk about. She had me peel those apples for your pie, all the time telling me stuff I didn’t want to hear. I thought this was going to be bodyguard duty, not girl’s stuff. Man, women are gruesome when they want to be.” Jerry blushed deeply and revved his rusted black van, leaving clouds of dust as he shot away—evidently headed for freedom.

  Nick paused, his hand on the back doorknob. The delicious scents coming from inside the house were unexpected and more than welcome.

  He opened the door slowly. Inside the house was cool and dimly lit. He placed the briefcase aside and carried his defense—the rose bouquet. He’d hit her with a one-two, the roses and some good, old-fashioned groveling. If that didn’t work, then she’d just have to listen to good sense—until they knew if Leo was lurking nearby with revenge on his little brain.

  A deep-dish apple pie sat cooling on the counter. When Nick lifted the lid to the big pot on the stove, the aroma of pot roast swirled up at him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed.

  Scout’s claws sounded in the hallway, running toward him. “Maggie?”

  Nick scratched Scout’s ears and hurried into the living room, which was empty. He brushed aside a huge stalk of bamboo plant and eased around something that looked like it could have eaten a whole jungle. Making his way down the hallway, Nick noted a flowery feminine scent. The dog acted okay, and she was protective, and if anything was wrong with Maggie, Scout wouldn’t leave her…

  Maggie was in the big bathroom, her hair piled high, mounds of bubbles in the water. Her eyes were closed, her head back. “I’m in therapy. I’ve missed this since the attack in my home. I couldn’t bear to be in anything other than a shower. I hope you don’t mind Celeste’s plants. They were lonely. She always said they needed people around to make them happy.”

  Everything that had been troubling Nick fled into the hot summer night. Entranced by the sight of Maggie, relaxed, a feminine little smile on her lips, Nick sat on the edge of the tub. “I heard you checked on Eugene again.”

  “Jerry makes an excellent bodyguard and reporter, right? Eugene is absolutely wallowing in Dee Dee’s full attention. I wouldn’t count on him being well soon. His story about how he fought off his attacker is growing.”

  Nick’s vantage point was good; Maggie’s nipples played beneath the soapy water, bobbing like little cherries that needed tasting. Her long, sleek, curved body shimmered beneath the bubbles, her feet raised, her nails glossy and red. His hunger switched from food to woman.

  Apparently she made orgasmic sounds in the bathtub, too, and every one of them lodged hard and needy in his body. She’d made those same sounds last night as she moved against him, hungry and sweet and tight and—

  Her eyes opened drowsily, finding him. She shifted a little, and her breasts quivered beneath the bubbles. “Nick?”

  “Hmm?” He was having trouble thinking. Images of the ruined grape crusher had been replaced by memories of last night’s lovemaking marathon. They interfered with whatever his plan had been. And he was no longer exhausted.

  “This is a really big bathtub.”

  Maggie lay on top of Nick’s back, his body relaxed beneath her on the bed. She smoothed his temple with her lips, her fingertips at work massaging his shoulders. “Feeling better?”

  “Umm.�
� His back rolled beneath her breasts, a male luxuriating in the feminine softness lying over him.

  “Enjoying yourself?”

  “Umm.” His hand reached down behind him and caressed her bottom.

  “That’s good.” She nuzzled the side of his throat. “It’s not as bad as you think—the winery and the orders, I mean. You smell like my bubble bath.”

  He sighed heavily as if unwilling to return to the reality of dealing with the investigation and his endangered business.

  She nibbled on his ear, and Nick turned his head slightly to give her a kiss. “Thank you.”

  “For dinner?”

  He wriggled his butt just a little beneath her and smoothed her bottom again. “That, too. I like this total body massage idea.”

  “I had an interesting conversation today that might interest you.” If Maggie’s fingers weren’t smoothing his shoulders, she might have had them crossed for good luck.

  “Let me guess. Dee Dee and Eugene?”

  “He wanted me to sneak him some condoms.”

  She could feel Nick smile as her cheek rubbed against his. “Lorna invited me to her house. I sent Jerry on an errand while we were at Celeste’s house, because I knew if he reported my visit to Lorna’s to you, you’d be upset.”

  The powerful shoulders beneath her fingers tensed. “You’re right; I am. And what did Lorna want?”

  When Maggie briefly described Lorna’s offer, Nick flipped over so suddenly that she almost went tumbling off the bed. He grabbed her and hauled her up, leaning over her. He turned on the bedside light. “She had buyers working for her? Lorna has cases of my wine?”

  His quiet roar was enough to wilt Celeste’s plants, but Maggie wasn’t backing up. She took a deep breath and served what he didn’t want. “Your best reds. They store well. She has a special cellar and temperature control printouts.”