Triple Threat

by Jan Coffey

  “Over here,” he called, swimming to the deepest end. “There’s a warm spring right under here. You can jump in from these rocks.”

  Ellie straightened up and gave him a doubtful look. Then she stepped back and took off her shoes.

  “You said you wouldn’t look,” she scolded.

  “I said I wouldn’t stare.” He turned his back and took a stick from one of the spaniels that was swimming around him. He threw it and both of the smaller dogs swam after it. From the shore, the retriever leaped into the water in pursuit, too. Nate took a quick glance behind him, and his mouth watered. Ellie, wearing nothing but a lacy white bra and panties, was walking to where he’d told her the water was warmer.

  He swam closer, admiring the perfect curves and the contrast of her dark hair against her pale skin. She was breaking out in goose bumps, and Nate couldn’t wait to warm her up.

  “How deep is it?”

  Nate touched the bottom with his feet and came back up. “Maybe eight feet.”

  “And you promised it’s warm.”

  “Like a bathtub.”

  She dived in head first and came up sputtering and cursing. “You liar! This water is ice cold.”

  Nate swam to her. “What are you, a baby?”

  “You lied,” she accused, pushing him away. “You tricked me. I’m getting out.”

  Ellie turned to leave, and Nate reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her under with him. She turned in his arms, and they both kicked to the surface.

  “Move around a little. You’ll warm up in no time.”

  She splashed water in his face. “You’re such a liar.” She pushed his head down.

  The view below was superb. The bra became nearly translucent underwater. He brushed his thumbs over the dark nipples showing through. He caressed her slender waist. He ran his fingers along the elastic of her panties and then traced a path on the inside of her leg to where the triangle of dark hair showed through the sheer fabric.

  Ellie tried to pull his head out of the water. When he came up, she looked flushed and was no longer shivering. Her body slid against his, and he pulled her against him. There was no way Nate could hide the evidence of his arousal against her legs.

  “Warmer now?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, her arms twined around his neck and she kissed him deeply. Nate wrapped her in his arms and backpedaled to a shallower section beneath a rock overhang.

  “You’re so beautiful.” Nate pushed a shoulder strap of her bra down her arm. His mouth closed around her nipple. She moaned and impatiently tore the bra away from her body.

  “I want you, Ellie.” His hand moved inside her panties and curved around her perfect bottom. “I’ll go crazy if you don’t let me make love to you.”

  She continued to kiss his face, his neck, taking small bites of his shoulder. Her naked breasts slid against his chest.

  “I can’t let you go crazy,” she said breathlessly.

  “Say it.” His other hand cupped her. His fingers played against her folds. “Tell me what you like, Ellie.”

  When she started moving against his touch, he felt his control begin to slip. She reached down and wrapped her hand around him, and he knew he was finished. “Make love to me, Nate.”

  They were both starved for each other—for the joining of their bodies. Nothing was a hindrance now. The temperature of the water. The danger of someone coming upon them. Nothing. Nate carried her to a very shallow end where the stone was as smooth as polished marble. He quickly stripped off the little that Ellie had left on.

  When he entered her, he knew that they had always been intended for each other. When they came together in the shallows, with the dappled sunlight shimmering on the surface of the pool, he knew that this was the woman he had been made for.

  Afterward, they stretched out and dried themselves in the sun, wrapped in each other’s arms. And then they made love again. And when they had recovered a little, they swam once more with the dogs and the ducks and the shared desire to live this day to its fullest.

  Twenty-Two

  Ellie took Nate’s suggestion and waited in the lobby of the hospital, instead of in his car, when he went up to the critical-care unit to see Tom McGill. Settling into a surprisingly comfortable upholstered chair, she held the innumerable sections of the Sunday New York Times on her lap.

  She needed this. She needed time to take control of her high-flying emotions and settle her thoughts.

  This entire morning had been a whirlwind of sensations in so many ways. She was feeling more fulfilled as a woman than she’d ever felt. Nate had not only made love to her, he’d made her feel whole. He’d brought out in her a sense of confidence that Ellie hadn’t even known she lacked.

  At the water’s edge, he’d made her cry his name out loud, and she in turn had driven him out of his mind.

  Later, at the breakfast table, she’d noticed other changes in herself. No longer did she cringe at subtle comments by his family about her and Nate being an item. Suddenly, she was perfectly comfortable arguing politics with Harvard-law-trained Milt. At some point in talking to Karen, Ellie had even realized that she was no longer embarrassed to speak openly about her troubled youth. Doughnut in hand, she’d even talked about her father, his painting and his time in prison.

  The family’s response had been one of surprise at first, but they all had moved easily past it. In fact, Karen was very interested in the types of things Lou liked to paint. They were an amazing group, and she had felt Nate’s supportive presence beside her throughout the entire brunch.

  They hadn’t left Saratoga until midafternoon, and en route to the hospital Nate had suggested that since neither of them had gotten much sleep, perhaps it would be best if they’d stayed someplace overnight on their way back to Philadelphia. Ellie agreed and made the necessary calls as they drove.

  Victor was already set to open the shop on Monday, though he had to relay the dozen or so stories of the tourists who were invading Philadelphia and the store. Sister Helen told her of the scare that Chris had after the ball game Friday night, but she didn’t want Ellie to be concerned. He wasn’t sick or running a fever. In fact, Chris was eating and drinking as he should and was just lying low for the weekend. Ellie had thought to ask about Lou, too. After a slight pause, Helen told her that he was as ornery as ever.

  One more phone call that she had to make was to her friend John Dubin in Ticonderoga. At Nate’s suggestion, she hadn’t said anything about finding Teasdale’s dead body at his house. Instead, they’d just talked over the news that local TV stations had already broadcast.

  Nate’s call to Ticonderoga had informed them that Tom McGill was still in the ICU in critical condition. There had been some slight improvement over the day before, however. He was off pressure-support medications, his neurological functions continued to improve, he was alert and responding to yes and no questions by moving his head. On the discouraging side, Tom had fluid in his lungs, remained on the ventilator, and the prognosis was still uncertain.

  The sensation of being watched made Ellie very aware of her surroundings and the people in the lobby. She tried not to look up, shuffling some of the newspapers on her lap to look as if she was actually reading as she sat there.

  She glanced up casually at the groups of people coming in or leaving the main entrance. The last time she’d been here, Chris’s friend Allison had easily found her. The lobby was more crowded today than it had been last Monday. Families, more so than the individuals, were obviously taking advantage of the pleasant Sunday afternoon to visit their loved ones.

  Again, that uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching came over her. Ellie folded the newspapers and put them in a neat pile on her lap. She took her dark sunglasses out of her purse and put them on. Settling into the chair, she rested her head against the back and pretended that she was getting ready to take a snooze.

  She scanned the waiting room. There were very few individuals, and even fewer people who were
n’t obviously on their way in or out. A young man paced back and forth right near the main entrance, talking on his cell beneath the Turn Your Cell Phone Off sign. An old lady sat in a wheelchair with an attendant, obviously waiting for her ride to arrive. Two volunteers were changing shifts by the information desk.

  Ellie saw him standing against the wall near the registration windows. Black, considerably shorter than Nate, he was wearing khaki pants and a sport jacket. He was squarely built, like a club bouncer. His gaze flickered toward her and then back to the flyer he was pretending to read. Her sixth sense kicked into gear. He was a cop. No doubt about it. But she couldn’t figure why he’d zeroed in on her.

  Last night, while being questioned by the detectives in Saratoga, Ellie almost froze up several times. As irrational as it was, the old fears were quick to come back. Inwardly, she expected them all to point fingers at her and assume she must be guilty of the murder of Teasdale. For all the years that she’d been trying to change her life and her image, the one feeling that continued to nag her was that people never forget. A criminal is always a criminal, no matter what the offense. No matter how many years might pass, old prejudices lingered. Nate’s presence, though, had been Ellie’s salvation. More protective than she could ever have imagined, he had not left her side until his brother had come to take her home.

  The man across the waiting room was being discreet, but he was still watching her. Ellie wondered if his surveillance had something to do with last night.

  “Taking a nap?”

  She almost purred when Nate’s fingers gently combed through her hair before pushing up her sunglasses. Ellie smiled at him. “How’s McGill?”

  “I’ll tell you when we get to the car. Let’s get out of here.”

  She let him pull her to her feet. “Do you know the guy who’s hanging around the registration window?”

  He frowned and fired a look in the direction she said. “What guy?”

  Ellie turned around. The cop was gone. She shook her head.

  “I must be more tired than I thought. I thought someone was watching me, and I got nervous.”

  “Whoever was there was probably looking at you because you’re very beautiful and very sexy.” He pulled her against him as they walked out of the building together. “But I’m afraid I’ll just have to find the bastard and take his eyes out for ogling my woman.”

  “I like the word ogling. And I like it when you ogle me.” She put her arm around his waist and smiled up at him. “You don’t mind being my ogler?”

  “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “And that’s in and out of bed.”

  He knew exactly how to melt her heart. Ellie couldn’t wait until they were locked up in some hotel room, so she could show him how she would be whatever he wanted her to be, as well.

  Nate held the car door open, and Ellie climbed in.

  “So how is McGill?” she asked as soon as he closed his door.

  “Healthwise, not too good.” Nate started the engine. “But there is nothing wrong with his mind.”

  “Did he talk to you?”

  “Not in the usual sense of the word. Nodding a yes or a no is still the extent of it.” He pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “From what his parents told me, the doctors are keeping him pretty doped up most of the time. When he’s conscious, he gets irritated pretty easily. Of course, with those tubes and all that machinery, who could blame him.”

  “How was he with you?”

  “He was actually pretty glad to see me.”

  Nate fell silent, but Ellie sensed there was something else that he wasn’t saying. He glanced in the mirror a couple of times, and she turned around and looked behind them at the line of traffic.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Do you mind if we find a place in town to stay? I could really use a good night’s sleep before we head back to Philly.”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Good.” At the next intersection, he did a quick U-turn.

  “You want to see McGill again tomorrow before we leave town, don’t you.”

  He looked at her curiously. “How did you know?”

  She shrugged. “You don’t seem satisfied with whatever took place up there.”

  “Chief Buckley was there, too.”

  “In McGill’s room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You called ahead. They knew you were coming. Maybe Buckley was trying to impress you with his devotedness to his men by being there on a Sunday,” she suggested.

  “Whatever he was trying to do, I wasn’t impressed.” He looked in the mirror again. “But he did tell me that they’ve been showing Tom mug shots of possible perpetrators, hoping he’d be able to identify the drivers of the car that hit him. So far, no luck.”

  Following his gaze, Ellie looked out the back window again, but there was no one behind them. “Do you think McGill might have something to tell you that he can’t say with his chief there?”

  “I got that feeling, but I won’t know for sure until I talk to him again tomorrow…without anyone else there.”

  Ellie could just imagine how happy Sanford Hawes would be if he knew what Nate was doing. But he wasn’t going to know.

  “I think we should order takeout for dinner and stay in the room until you’re ready to go back to the hospital tomorrow.”

  “You’re reading my mind.” Nate flashed her a devilish smile.

  He pulled into the driveway of a decent-looking motor lodge that they’d passed coming into Ticonderoga. The parking lot was less than half full.

  “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding a room,” Ellie said. Already the excitement of spending the night with him was giving her butterflies.

  He checked in and then parked in the back parking lot, where the car wouldn’t be visible from the main road. He turned to her. “It’s not the Four Seasons or the Ritz.”

  Ellie looped her arms around his neck and kissed him with enough passion to set both of their bodies on fire. She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “I’ll take a flat rock anytime over those places. I’ll even take the back seat of the company car.”

  “You don’t say?” He glanced over the seat to see how much room there was back there. “Well, maybe we should try it before we go in.”

  Ellie scrambled out of the car, smiling broadly. “You’re incorrigible, Agent Murtaugh.”

  “And you’re a tease, Ms. Littlefield,” he replied, taking their bags out of the trunk.

  She looped an arm through his as they headed for the building. “By the way, some of these rooms have a balcony. I wonder what it would be like to make love on one of those. You know what an outdoorsy kind of girl I am.”

  Nate dropped a bag and swept her up into his arms, growling fiercely against her throat. “The way you’re going, baby, we’ll be lucky to make it to the room.”

  Gently, he put her back down, and she pressed her body against his.

  “I see an elevator.” She smiled, feeling his arousal hard against her. “Do you know how to stop one of those between floors?”

  Sister Helen opened the door and motioned Ted to follow her into the front living room. Once inside, she closed the double French doors behind her.

  She turned to him. “Thank you so much for coming over on such short notice so late at night.”

  “No problem.” He didn’t bother to sit down. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need some guidance.”

  Ted wasn’t able to hide his surprise. “You, Sister?”

  “Yes, me.” She walked to the center of the room. “Recently, I read an interview where a nun was telling the story of getting sick and going to the doctor. The doctor’s first question to her was ‘Nuns get sick?’ She told him, ‘We’re real people. We get sick. We have fun. We have fears and we sin. Like everybody. Our lives can be stressful, so we celebrate life when we can.”’

  “And you sometimes need help from your friends.”
<
br />   She nodded and turned to him. “I called you because of Chris. To tell the truth, I don’t know if anything is wrong with him at all. Maybe I’m just overreacting. I was never a parent, so I don’t honestly know if this behavior is normal for a boy his age. I just don’t know if I’m being concerned for nothing.”

  Ted felt his insides tighten. It happened every time someone reminded him of how he’d been a parent once. It was as if he was a damp rag and being twisted. At times in the past, when this would happen, it felt like the pain would go on until every drop of feeling was wrung out of him. Not this time, though. He forced himself not to let that happen.

  “What’s going on? What’s he doing?”

  “Nothing! And that’s what scares me most.” She sat down on the edge of a chair. “You stayed in his room until Chris fell asleep Friday night. When he didn’t leave the room on Saturday, except to run to the bathroom and back, I didn’t think too much about it. Sister Lisa spent some time with him and took up his meals. I just assumed he was recovering from his experience the day before.”

  Helen rose to her feet again. “But he did the same thing today. All day. He wouldn’t leave the room to go to church with us or come down for any meals. And then he told me he’s sick, so I got Lou to sit with him.”

  “How do you know he isn’t really sick?”

  “He told me he thinks he’s got the measles.” She gave him an incredulous look. “Of course, this was right after reading one of the books Elizabeth gave him that had a kid in it who contracted measles.”

  Ted remembered the summer his daughter Emily had decided that it was cool to have a broken arm. She didn’t believe her doctors and actual X-rays showing that there was nothing wrong. She wanted a cast.

  “Tonight, another thing happened that made me more concerned about what’s going on.” Helen started pacing the room. “When I went up to check on him about eight o’clock, I couldn’t get the door open at first. And then Chris moved a chair from behind it to let me in. Now, you know how small that bedroom is at the top of the stairs, and there’s no air-conditioning in this house. Inside, I found he’s got the window shut and locked. It was at least a hundred degrees in that room. And I had a feeling he wasn’t sleeping in the bed, either.”