Thirty-Two and a Half Complications

by Denise Grover Swank

  Muffy hunkered down on the bed and released a low growl.

  I rested my hand on the back of her head and rubbed lightly. “Easy, girl.” If Muffy had been a bigger dog, I might have let her loose to try and scare off my intruder, but it would be too easy for someone to overpower my eight-pound dog. I couldn’t risk letting her get hurt.

  When Mason and I had first checked out the house, we’d both walked right by the converted sunroom that was attached to the master bedroom. If Muffy and I hid there, we might go undetected.

  I slid off the bed and was reaching for my dog when I heard my name shouted.

  “Rose!”

  I froze, recognizing the voice. “Joe?” I called out.

  Joe had broken into my house.

  I turned on the bedside lamp, then headed into the upstairs hallway.

  “Rose? Where are you?”

  The last thing I wanted was for him to come upstairs. “I’m heading down.”

  A light flicked on in the living room, illuminating Joe, who was standing at the base of the stairs with a pistol in his hand.

  “Did you break my back window, Joe McAllister?” I asked in disbelief.

  He gave me an exasperated look as he shoved his gun in its holster. “Why didn’t you answer? I knocked and tried calling. I knew you were here because your truck’s out front. With the bank robbers on the loose, I was worried something might have happened.”

  It was hard to be mad at him when he’d broken into the house with the best of intentions, but now one of my windows needed to be replaced. With money I didn’t have. “I fell asleep.”

  Worry replaced his irritation. “Are you not feeling well?”

  My stomach had been a mess of nerves most of the day, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “I’m fine, just tired. Bruce Wayne and I had a big demo job today,” I said as I descended the staircase, Muffy bolting ahead to greet Joe.

  He bent down to rub her head. “What do you mean, demo job?”

  “You know how I hired Bruce Wayne and David to help me with the landscaping job at Jonah’s church?” Of course he did. He’d never approved of the decision. “Well, turns out that Bruce Wayne and I both love it. So we started a landscaping side for the nursery and we’ve had plenty of business. We ripped out a bunch of shrubs and bushes today and I got worn out.”

  “You shouldn’t work so hard, Rose. I know you like the planting, so why don’t you hire someone else to help Bruce Wayne with the hard labor?”

  I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him, shaking my head. “Stop.”

  His mouth parted as I walked past him and into the kitchen to examine the damage.

  The kitchen door had nine rectangular windows on the top. The one directly over the doorknob had been knocked in, and shards of glass littered the wood floor.

  Muffy must have sensed the tension in the room because she headed straight for her dog bed underneath the windows on the back wall, burrowing into it.

  I grabbed the broom and dustpan from the pantry, but when I headed for the mess, Joe blocked my path. “You don’t have any shoes on. You’re going to get cut.”

  I looked down at my feet, forgetting I’d taken my shoes and socks off.

  “I see that you go barefoot even in the winter,” he said, his voice lowering. “I always wondered what it would be like to sleep with you in the winter. Whether you’d put your cold feet on my legs.”

  My back stiffened with anger. “Let’s get one thing straight right now.” I glared and pointed my finger at his shocked face. “You are here for a professional matter, Deputy Simmons. You are here to show me mug shots so that I can point out the man I saw in my vision. If, God willing, I find him, you will figure out how to arrest the man. But let me be perfectly clear: You and I are no longer together. You walked out of my house two months ago. That was the end of us, whether you changed your mind or not. So I will not tolerate your continued intrusion into my personal life and matters. Is that clear?”

  To my surprise, he grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I shoved the broom and dustpan at him. “You broke the window, so you can clean it up.”

  He took them from me, actually chuckling now.

  That was not how I’d expected him to react. With my hands on my hips, I scanned the room. “Where are the mug shots? I’ll look at them while you clean.”

  “Shouldn’t the chief deputy sheriff be the one issuing the orders around here?” he teased.

  “Shut up and give me the mug shots.”

  “I left them in the car. When I saw that the lights were off but your truck was here, I worried something had happened to you.”

  That curbed my anger right quick. “Thanks.”

  “Just doin’ my job, ma’am.” He rested the broom against the kitchen counter. “I’ll get the photos. Leave the mess for me to clean up while you look.”

  “Okay.”

  He headed to the living room and out the front door while I grabbed the tea kettle from the cabinet. After I filled it with water and set it on the stove, I pulled out two cups, tea bags, and a jar of honey, setting them on the counter.

  “Are you actually making me a cup of tea, Ms. Gardner?” Joe asked when he re-entered the kitchen. “Doesn’t that cross the boundaries you established mere moments ago?”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “Do you want a cup of tea or not?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I do.”

  I scowled. Joe was definitely up to something.

  He pulled a folder out from under his arm and set it on the kitchen table. “Just look through these and let me know if any of the guys look familiar.” Then he pulled the chair out, waiting for me to sit.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “Ms. Gardner, my mother, bitch or not, taught me to be a gentleman, just like any other well-bred Southern man. We may be treating this as a professional situation, but I will treat you with the same respect I would give any other woman. I open doors. I pull out chairs. Deal with it.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled as I sat down and opened the folder.

  Grinning, he grabbed the broom and started to sweep up the glass while I started to look through the huge pile of photos. Several minutes later, the tea kettle began to whistle, but he waved me back down when I made a move to get it. “You keep at it. I’ll make the tea. I know how you like it.”

  I looked through more sheets of photos of a wide array of men with an even wider array of expressions. Most of them looked like they’d slit your throat without thinking twice, but a fair number of the men had bewildered expressions and terror in their eyes. Had they been arrested for something they didn’t do, like Bruce Wayne? Or were they just sorry to have gotten caught with both hands in the cookie jar?

  “You’re concentrating pretty hard,” Joe said as he set my tea next to me.

  “It’s a heavy responsibility,” I said, flipping a page. “If I accuse the wrong man, I could ruin his life forever.”

  “Rose, these men you’re looking at were already arrested for committing crimes. It’s not like you’d be pulling an innocent man off the street.”

  I looked up at him, my stomach cramping. “You said the exact same thing about Bruce Wayne when I worried about him going to jail for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  A sadness filled his eyes. “I know this is a burden for you, but all you can do is your best. You’re human just like the rest of us. We make mistakes.”

  While his words sounded preachy, I knew his intent was good. I also wondered if he might be talking about himself. “Okay.”

  “Just relax and do the best you can. That’s all you can do. I’m going to go drink my tea in the other room so you can be alone.”

  I blew out a breath. “Okay.”

  He offered me a soft smile before he rounded the corner to the living room.

  By the time I finished flipping through the stack—twice—my half-full cup of tea was cold. I hadn’t found the bank robber, and Joe still hadn’t returned.

  I sto
od and rolled my head around, trying to ease the tension in my shoulders as I walked into the empty living room. “Joe?”

  “Up here.” His voice floated down from upstairs.

  What was he doing upstairs? Livid, I stormed up the staircase. “Where are you?”

  “In the bathroom.”

  The hall bathroom door stood ajar. What was he doing in there?

  I hesitated in the doorway before peering in and found him lying on his back on the floor, his legs sticking out from the bathroom cabinet. “What on earth are you doing down there?”

  “I had to use the bathroom, and you were concentrating so hard I didn’t want to disturb you by using the one off the kitchen,” he answered, his voice muffled. “I figured there was one by the bedrooms, so I came upstairs and found it. But when I flushed the toilet, I realized the water in the tank keeps running unless the handle’s jiggled, so I fixed it. Then I noticed the sink was clogged up, so I’m fixing that too.”

  “Why?”

  He grunted, then slid out and sat up. “Because it needed to be done. These old houses require lots of work and you know I like tinkering with things.”

  “Joe—”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m here for a professional matter, but I found some tools under the sink and it gave me something to do while I waited on you.” He picked up the wrench and got to his feet. “Did you finish going through the photos?”

  “Yeah, twice. I didn’t find him. Are you sure you brought all the ones that fit the parameters Mason gave you?”

  He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. It means the guy’s probably never been arrested before.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “I can arrange for you to meet with a sketch artist, but it’s pricey and you told Taylor you only saw the guys with their masks on. There’s bound to be questions we won’t be able to answer.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “No. The guy threatened you. We have that on record, so I’ll have a sheriff’s car sit in front outside your house all night while you sleep.”

  “Are you sure it’s necessary?”

  Pinning his gaze on the faucet, he turned the handles on and off. “Why don’t we look at your history? We’ll start with the latest. Crocker. He escaped from prison and came after you. Before that, Jonah’s mother stalked and kidnapped you. If someone had been watching you, you wouldn’t have been kidnapped. You wouldn’t have almost gotten killed.”

  I didn’t respond. I noticed he didn’t mention that Mason had been the one to save me.

  “Before that, there was the killer who should have been on trial instead of Bruce Wayne. If a deputy had been tailing you, you wouldn’t have been attacked in your home and you wouldn’t have been kidnapped at gunpoint later.” He pushed past me through the bathroom door and moved down the hall toward the staircase. “And then there was me.”

  “You?” I asked, following him down the stairs.

  “I was working for Daniel Crocker undercover, Rose, and yet you trusted me.”

  “Newsflash. I didn’t trust you, but my visions kept telling me that I was going to die in a few days anyway. I figured I had nothing to lose.”

  “You needed protection. I practically blew my cover to protect you.”

  “Does all this have a point?”

  “Yes, that you have a penchant for trouble. Having a protection detail watch your house is a logical decision.” He gestured toward the front door. “I fixed the lock in the doorknob. I noticed that it was hard to turn so I oiled the mechanism.” He looked back at me in disbelief. “Honestly, I can’t believe Mason hasn’t done these things for you.”

  “He hasn’t had time. After he got out of the hospital, he’s been putting in long hours at the DA’s office to try and catch up, not to mention the fact that his boss keeps throwing all this extra work at him. I’m sure the last thing he wants to do is fix things in a house that’s not even his.”

  He looked unimpressed. “Hmm.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “What on earth does that mean?”

  “It means that I did plenty of things around your house and your nursery and they weren’t mine.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned the back of my head against the wall. “Stop. If you care one iota about me, then stop.”

  He moved closer and pressed his body against mine. “Rose, I know I’ve hurt you and I’m handling everything wrong. I know it,” he whispered, staring into my face. “But when I found out that you were a hostage in that bank robbery…that your life had been threatened, I nearly went crazy.” His hand slid up my neck, burying in my hair and tilting my face up so he could search my eyes. “The thought of losing the chance to win you back made me desperate. I want you to know how special you are to me. How irreplaceable. I could search the ends of the earth and never find another woman like you.” His other hand held my other cheek. “I need you, Rose. I am nothing without you. Do you want me to beg?” His eyes were wild with desperation. “Do you want me to get down on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

  I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “No.” My voice cracked. “Stop. You have to stop. We’re over. I’ve moved on. I’m sorry you’re hurting, and I’m sorry you haven’t let me go, but you have to stop.”

  His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a step away from me.

  “I still care about you Joe. I do. But we can only be friends.”

  He laughed. At first I thought it was a bitter sound, but after several seconds, I realized it was genuine.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He put his hand on his stomach and caught his breath. “You just friend-zoned me.”

  I shook my head. “And why is that funny?”

  He gave me a wicked grin. “It’s the exact same position Mason Deveraux was in three months ago.” He studied me for several seconds, and I could tell he was calculating something in his head. “Do you mean it? About being friends?”

  Good heavens. What can of worms had I just opened? “Yes.”

  “Then I accept,” he said with an air of confidence. “I want to be your friend.”

  “Okay.” How was Mason going to take this? How was I going to take this? While I’d only thrown out the offer as a way to get him to back off, I had to admit there were parts of Joe I missed. Still, this was probably a disastrous idea. “But you have to stop putting the moves on me every chance you get. If you persist, we can’t be friends anymore.”

  He pushed his bottom lip out in a smirk. “Okay.”

  This was never going to work. But then I suspected Joe was counting on that.

  Chapter Seven

  “I like your new house, Rose,” Joe said, wandering over to the office off the living room. Mason’s paperwork was stacked into piles on the desk. “It really suits you, although I have to confess that I was surprised to find out you were living here. The entire time we were together you never once expressed an interest in even seeing the place, let alone living in it.”

  “I didn’t. I was about to sell it to help pay for the nursery expansion, but Jonah suggested that I see it first.” I stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. “But when Mason and I used it as our safe house, I was surprised by how much I felt I belonged here. Plus, Mason thought it would be a good idea for me to live outside of the Henryetta city limits. He suggested that the sheriff’s department might be more receptive to my 911 calls.”

  “Mason was right about that,” he said, checking out the bookshelves. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was referring to himself and his own willingness to help me.

  Mason’s voice interrupted him. “Glad to know you think that I’m right about something,” he said good-naturedly from behind me. But there was a slight edge to his voice. Something most people wouldn’t catch.

  I spun around in surprise since I hadn’t heard him come in. Joe must have oiled the hinges on the front door too. “Mason. You’re home,” I said, happy to see him.

  He rested his cane against the
wall and smiled down at me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a soft kiss. “Finally. The sheriff can be quite chatty when he wants to be.” He glanced up, leveling his gaze on Joe. “But then Chief Deputy Simmons must know that, don’t you?”

  “I’ve only been with the department for a couple of weeks. I suspect you know him better than I do, Deveraux.”

  Mason ignored him and turned his attention back to me. “Did you have any luck with the mug shots?”

  I shook my head. “I went through them twice without seeing him.”

  “What about a sketch artist?” Mason asked, dropping one arm, but keeping the other around my waist.

  “I’m going to see what I can do.” Joe stared at us for a moment before leaning his arms on the back of the office chair. “The problem is that Rose never officially saw his face. So if we bring in a sketch artist, we’ll be asking for trouble. I’m going to see if there’s a way around it.”

  “Keep me informed,” Mason said. There was no mistaking the fact that it wasn’t a request but an authoritative demand.

  “I will.” Joe nodded, then gave me a smile. “Thanks for the tea, Rose. I’m going to go collect the photos and head home.” He walked past us as he left the room and headed into the kitchen.

  Mason’s face lowered toward my ear. “Are you okay?”

  I smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I think we’ve come to an agreement. At least for the time being.”

  “And what’s that?” he asked in surprise.

  “We’re going to be friends.”

  Mason’s expression froze for several seconds before he asked, “Do you really think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But it’s bound to be better than his full-on alpha dog behavior.”

  Mason tensed, his eyes hardening. “What did he do?”

  I patted his chest. “Not what you’re thinking. Just a few digs at you. He’s trying to reinsert himself into my life while making his intentions toward me perfectly clear. If he’s gonna be around, it would be better to keep things positive between us. Hopefully being friends will do that. Maybe he’ll see how happy you and I are and decide to leave me alone.”