Reunion by the Sea

by Jo Leigh

  “Who?”

  She glanced back toward the door. “He’s my babysitter.”

  “Protective detail?” His heart lurched. “So, they think you’re in danger?”

  “No. Not at all. Agent Archer said Tilda and I should be just fine. We might even be the safest people on Masters’s radar. He’ll know the FBI will be keeping us under watch and he won’t come anywhere near us.”

  Right. Standard procedure. Parker still wasn’t thinking all that clearly. “That’s what I figured. I might be a little hazy, but I remember one of the agents saying something about having enough evidence in that envelope to lock him away for life. Something about selling arms to known enemies of the state. Meg did a great job at ratting him out.”

  “That’s true.”

  He looked down at the big remote on his lap and the sling he’d just noticed, cradling his right shoulder. “I’m proud of her. She did more good than she’ll ever know.”

  Ginny sniffed. “Yes, she did. I know she’d be thrilled to see him spend the rest of his life in a maximum-security prison.”

  He was sure Meg would be even happier to know that Ginny and Tilda were safe.

  “You have one too.”

  Parker frowned. “What?”

  “An agent is posted just outside your door.”

  “You’re kidding.” He could see she wasn’t. And now, he vaguely recalled the agent he’d spoken with before the surgery saying something along those lines. Man, he had definitely been out of it.

  She sighed. “I don’t know how long it’s going to last. You know, having a bunch of FBI agents lurking in the bushes. Waverly Hills will be in an uproar. Probably scare away all my piano students too.”

  Using the remote, Parker moved the bed up a little higher, until he was able to look Ginny in the eyes. “Don’t try to be a hero. They don’t need you to give them a hard time or ask them to scale back. Having them around is for your own protection. Understand? And Tilda’s. At least—”

  Ginny nodded. “I know. Ditto for you. Okay?”

  The soft way she looked at him stopped him from making a snide remark. He hoped that was a hint about how things might be. Although he wasn’t going to count on it. Not yet. He was still getting the invalid treatment.

  “Although, I have to say, that’s rich, coming from the man who gave those nice paramedics so much grief about taking you to the hospital. What a dope.”

  “What? I wasn’t even really shot. It was a nick.”

  She rolled her puffy eyes. “The bullet went all the way through your shoulder. I doubt that qualifies as a nick.”

  He grinned, grabbing on to the rope she’d just tossed him. “Did you talk to Tilda?” Her eyes lost their glimmer of humor.

  “I didn’t tell her much, just that I miss her and love her and she can probably come home tomorrow. I’m really pushing for that to happen. She’s curious and knows something is off. But I promised to explain everything as soon as she gets home.”

  He nodded, having no idea what the solution was going to be. He still wanted his mother to have the joy of a granddaughter, but despite all that had happened and the rotten things he’d said, Ginny truly was Tilda’s mother. “We’ll have to come up with a plan. I’ll have to explain things to my mom too.”

  “Will you be doing that in person?”

  Parker almost shrugged again but stopped himself. “I don’t know yet. And, yeah, thanks for telling the EMTs I’m a pilot. They let the doc know, and now I’m grounded.”

  “Good. You’re too stubborn to admit you shouldn’t fly. You’re in a sling. You don’t have the mobility to fly a kite, much less a plane. Now you have no choice.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Although he sure wanted to.

  She offered him the cup of mostly melted ice. “I bet you can have something else. They probably have Jell-O or broth.”

  “Um, no thanks. I’m not that hungry.”

  She smiled. “How long are they keeping you here?”

  “Gee, I’m not sure. Haven’t you given the doc and nurses their instructions yet?”

  Ginny actually laughed. “It’s good to know you’re not hurting so badly you can’t be a pain in the butt.”

  Parker sighed, suddenly so tired he felt as if he could sleep for a week. He looked to his right and noticed a window. It was dark already. How long had this day been? Had to be more than twenty-four hours. “I can leave tomorrow morning.”

  Ginny didn’t say anything. Neither did he. When she spoke again, it was little more than a whisper. “Shall I wait for you? We could fly back together.”

  “We’d have to go commercial.” He hated that. Sitting in the back of a plane had never felt right. But he could overlook it knowing that Ginny was still willing to wait for him after the way he’d treated her.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I figured. I’ll make arrangements.”

  “Thanks. Use my credit card. My wallet should be around here somewhere.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” She stared down at the floor. “I, uh.” She lifted her head so he could see her face. “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

  “For what?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Saving my life?”

  He brushed the thanks aside with a wave of his hand. “No need. I doubt a bullet could’ve penetrated that thick skull of yours.”

  Pressing her lips together, she gave her head a little shake. “Can we be serious for a minute?”

  “Go ahead.” He glanced at the IV bag. “I have nowhere to go.”

  “You were very brave, but you could’ve been killed, Parker. It was only a matter of luck—”

  “Hey, knock that off, okay? I mean it. Enough. Look, while we’re being serious...the things I said before...”

  She held up her hand like a stop sign. “It’s all right. I deserved it. Every word.”

  “No, you didn’t. Now, will you just let me apologize?”

  “I began my apology first and you cut in.” Ginny wasn’t joking, she seemed upset, and then resigned. That stop sign turned into a submissive wave.

  The nurse walked in without knocking, still far too cheerful. That smile of hers had to hurt. But now that she was there with Ginny, it was clear they looked nothing alike. Ginny outshone her in every way.

  The cheery smile didn’t distract him from the chart and the other things she’d brought with her. It meant another blood pressure check. As if she couldn’t take a readout from the one that had been marked on the chart by the surgeon’s nurse. Probably wanted to ask him more useless questions too.

  Before she could say a word, he pointed to the door. “No. No way. Out. I mean it. I’m not going to go through—”

  The smile vanished. “Don’t even try that with me, buster,” she said, and he would have sworn right there she must’ve been a prison guard before becoming a nurse.

  Ginny laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Have a good night, and don’t give everyone a hard time, okay?”

  “What? Wait,” he said as she was scooting out the door. “Where are you staying?”

  He got no answer. Just another surly look from the former Miss Sunshine. He gave her his best glare. And then remembered he’d forgotten to ask Ginny if she had his phone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  GINNY REALIZED HALFWAY through making waffles that she didn’t even know if Parker liked them. She’d been home for almost twenty-four hours, but everything still felt strange. Activity helped somewhat—hence the bacon, eggs, waffles, fresh-squeezed orange juice and coffee.

  Parker had told her not to bother, but he needed to eat while he was healing. His plane was still in New York, and against his protests, she’d set him up in the guest room early yesterday afternoon. She’d picked up Tilda in Providence late last night.

  Tilda had hugged the stuffing out of her, thrilled t
o be home in time for the barbecue. But when Ginny had evaded some of her questions, Tilda had clammed up, only willing to give one-syllable answers. Luckily, she hadn’t put up much of a fight when Ginny had told her they’d talk in the morning.

  The waffle iron beeped, so she added the last two to the plate in the warming tray.

  She heard a rustle behind her and spun around, relieved it wasn’t Tilda. Parker stood in the doorway in jeans, a brown T-shirt and a sling. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot, and she imagined he must hurt a great deal since he still refused pain meds. His scowl told her his mood hadn’t brightened overnight.

  He went straight to the coffee maker and poured a cup, unsteadily, with his left hand. “Tilda still sleeping?”

  “Yes. She was exhausted after those long layovers. I hope she sleeps for a couple more hours.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he did look at the mess on the counter. “I’d offer to help but I have a feeling I’d be in the way.”

  “I’d rather you go sit.”

  No arguing, he just sat at the table and took his first sip. “It’s going to be fine,” he said.

  “You don’t know that.” She hadn’t meant to snap at him. Instead of apologizing, she turned on the stove and opened the carton of eggs. Her stomach tightened, and she was pretty certain she would end up with an ulcer or worse.

  “You’re right. I don’t. But my instincts tell me Tilda will come through like a champ.”

  “I wish I had half your confidence.”

  His sigh cut through her. He was only trying to help. “Look, I get it,” he said. “I’ve got a call to make myself today, and I’d rather tear out my own fingernails. My mother’s a strong woman, but it’s going to devastate her. I doubt she ever imagined that Meg might be dead. Only thing I’m sure about is that I have to tell her it’s a distinct possibility. She deserves to know.”

  Ginny felt the verbal slap, and it sobered her. “You’re going to tell her about Tilda, aren’t you?” She cracked the egg too hard, and most of the shell landed in the pan. Plus she’d forgotten to add the butter. The whole mess went into the trash, and she started again, her hands beginning to shake.

  “Not until after you talk to Tilda. That was the deal.”

  Relief swept through her...for a moment. Then the dread came back, stronger than ever. There was no escape from any of this. The life she’d built with Tilda would never be the same again.

  This time she managed to concentrate on the eggs, and when they were done, she plated them with a few slices of bacon along with a waffle and put it in front of Parker.

  “What’s all this? I told you I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Too bad. If you want to get back to your precious Alaska before spring, you’ll eat what’s in front of you and stop complaining.”

  “Huh.” At his pause, she turned and saw a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “I’d wondered where the drill sergeant had gone.”

  “What?”

  He picked up the fork. “You know, the one who hijacked my phone while I was in the hospital and took it upon herself to call my business partner and tell him I’d be laid up for who knew how long.”

  “You were worried about your dogs. I wanted to make sure they got fed.”

  “Right. Just so you know, that pissed me off. Don’t ever touch my phone again. Understand?”

  She glanced toward the doorway and lowered her voice. “Would you have rather I’d left it with the FBI?”

  “I would have rather you didn’t call any of my contacts. By now, half my customers probably know I was shot, except in their versions I’m at death’s door. I’ve already gotten three stinking voice mails.”

  Amusement lit her face. “What did they say?”

  “I didn’t listen to them.”

  “You truly are a big baby.” She turned to pour herself more coffee. “Anyway, I’m not sorry I did it.”

  “Of course you aren’t. You’re too busy trying to force-feed me pills and food. Watching me drink my water, as if I’m twelve.”

  “Well, then, why don’t you just leave?” She smiled. “Oh, wait. You can’t drive that stick shift, can you? Or fly. Or shower without having someone help you cover your shoulder. Or change your bandage. But hey, you’re so used to taking care of yourself, none of that should bother you at all.”

  He glared at her.

  For a few minutes there, nerves and indignation had made her forget... “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know you can’t wait to get back to Alaska, and the last person in the world you want to be near is me. You can believe me or not, but I honestly don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Parker put down the fork that he’d been pointing at her like a weapon. He seemed a little chastened, although Ginny wasn’t sure why. This was on her.

  “That’s not true. Yeah, I miss home, but the rest of it—”

  “No need for apologies. I overstepped. I caused all of this. But I honestly think you’ll recover here faster...” She picked up a piece of burnt bacon from the skillet, meant to eat it, but put it down when her stomach rebelled. “So, if it’ll make things easier and you won’t feel like I’m hovering, I can go stay at the resort.” She chanced a glance at him. “Look, I’m not offended or feeling sorry for myself. Tilda will probably want me to leave too.”

  He stared at her for too long. She stopped herself from ordering him to eat before his food got cold. “How much sleep have you gotten in the last three nights?” he asked.

  Before she responded, she heard a familiar noise. Tilda was moving around upstairs.

  They looked at each other, then Parker asked, “Think she’ll come down right away?”

  Ginny nodded.

  He stood with his coffee cup. “I’ll uh...”

  “You don’t have to go anywhere. Eat your breakfast. She might be hungry. Anyway, when it’s time, we’ll talk in the den.”

  “It’s probably best I make myself scarce. We don’t need to explain the sling yet.”

  “Oh. Right.” She’d forgotten that he’d remained in the guest room when they’d arrived from the airport last night, precisely to avoid questions. “Thanks.”

  He nodded, smiled his encouragement, then picked up his plate and balanced it on his mug. “Mind if I take this to the room with me?”

  Ginny felt the first sting of tears behind her eyes. She knew he was only doing it to please her. “Of course not. Let me help.”

  He didn’t argue, so she followed behind him with his plate and utensils. After he was settled, she paused at the door. “Thank you,” she said, sorry she hadn’t told him first thing. “You came back and moved the table the other night.”

  “Oh, yeah. No problem.” He almost looked embarrassed, so Ginny just smiled and closed the door.

  The touching gesture had brought a few tears earlier, when she’d realized what he’d done. She lost the sentiment quickly when on her way back to the kitchen she saw Tilda on the stairs.

  “You gonna tell me anything today?” Tilda asked, her hand gripping the railing.

  “After breakfast.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Ginny took a breath. It was her turn to step up. “Fine. Pour us both some orange juice, please, and I’ll meet you in the den.”

  Tilda nodded, her eyes widening. They never talked in the den.

  Ginny turned around, rushed into the guest bathroom to grab a box of tissues. She didn’t want to cry, but Tilda might break down. They probably both would.

  When she got to the den, Tilda was already in the overstuffed chair, but she wasn’t curled up. Both bare feet were on the carpet, the glass of juice on the side table and she was rubbing her hands as if she were chilled...an old habit when she was nervous or scared.

  Ginny sat down across from her, took a sip of her juice. “Okay, so I know you have a lot of que
stions—”

  “Mom. Please, just tell me. I’m going crazy not knowing. Whatever it is. Just tell me.”

  “All right. But please bear with me, I have to start at the very beginning.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  DAYTIME TV WAS going to drive him to drink. He had little interest in sports, at least not on television. He didn’t mind watching ice hockey, but only if he liked one of the teams...and preferably hated the other.

  Giving up, he quietly moved to the living room window—even the great view of the ocean couldn’t hold his attention for more than fifteen minutes. He was too restless.

  He wanted more coffee. Didn’t need it, but it would sure hit the spot, even as the day grew warmer by the minute.

  He hoped going to the kitchen wouldn’t interrupt Ginny and Tilda. There was an ebb and flow to giving people bad news, and the slightest thing could change a win into a loss.

  Vividly, he remembered when he and his mother had discovered that the money from his dad had been stolen, and that she wouldn’t be receiving his pension. And that his life insurance policy had been courtesy of the DEA, with a caveat, so that was out too.

  Just an hour before, they had been planning a decent future. She hadn’t been crying; he’d been able to set his anger aside. And then the DEA brass had come to the crappy door of the crappy house in Indiana, given them the news, and ever so graciously, offered to let them stay in the government-owned house for another month.

  Fortunately, for the half hour Ginny and Tilda had been sequestered, he hadn’t heard a peep from either of them. Not even a slammed door. So things couldn’t be going too badly.

  There was a scant cup of the strong Kona coffee left in the carafe, so he made another pot. Even as he was adding the grounds, he knew taking a walk would’ve been a lot healthier. Ginny could be a real pain, but she was right about nutrition being important to his healing.

  The problem with a walk was that he’d stick out. He wasn’t exactly Waverly Hills material, and with the way he was looking today, people would stare, maybe even call the cops. The neighborhood had its own private security force, with their special cars and badges. Although Agent Morales would set them straight real quick. The thought made Parker smile, but he didn’t want to distract the guy from watching over Ginny and Tilda.