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Hatfield and McCoy

Page 14

by Heather Graham


  “He must,” Joe agreed cheerfully. He leaned on the counter, cupping his chin in his hand. “Hey, kid, that’s an expensive dog he bought for you!”

  “Yeah, boy,” Patty agreed. “I didn’t even know that you were actually dating.”

  “I don’t think that we are actually dating,” Julie said. She didn’t want to discuss it any longer. She leaped off her seat. “So, Patty, are we going to see a movie, or what? I’m sorry, Joe, do you want to join us?”

  “No, thanks,” he said. “I’ve got plans.”

  “I think he has a very hot date, but he doesn’t want to tell me about it,” Patty moaned.

  “Yeah. Every law-enforcement official in the next three states will be talking about my love life if I tell Patty anything,” Joe said flatly.

  “Oh, come now!” Patty protested.

  “Timothy Riker went out with a Las Vegas showgirl last year and I swear, they knew about it in Maine,” Joe told Julie. “Ladies, with that, I am leaving. Have a nice night.” He paused a moment. “Hey, Julie, will you see that my partner here makes it home?”

  “Of course,” Julie assured him. He waved again. Patty made a face at him, and he was gone.

  “What do you want to see?” Patty asked Julie. “Have you got a newspaper around here?”

  Julie indicated the newspaper at the end of the counter. Patty started looking through it. “I wanted to go home and take a shower,” she murmured. “But if we want to eat first—do we want to eat first?”

  “Yes,” Julie said. “And I want to eat somewhere with lots of alfalfa sprouts.”

  “Alfalfa sprouts?” Patty said.

  “Never mind,” Julie murmured. “How about seafood?”

  “Whatever,” Patty said, poring over the movie section. “Comedy? History? Drama, suspense, murder—no, no murder. How about the new thing they’ve been advertising—”

  “Comedy?” Julie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Perfect,” Julie agreed. She wanted to see something she could just sit through. Her concentration probably wouldn’t be the best. She glanced at her watch. “Hey, we’d probably best be getting a move on here. Although, if you want to shower here, there’s probably time. You can find something of mine to wear, and we can still make dinner in plenty of time if we go to that seafood place right by the theater.”

  “Well, it sounds like a hunk of heaven,” Patty said dryly. “All I’d need is a good-looking guy to go with it.”

  “They’re not all that they’re cracked up to be,” Julie said.

  “I’d like the chance to find out,” Patty said with a laugh. Then her eyes twinkled with merriment as she studied Julie. “I just can’t wait to get all the dirt on McCoy. Is the feud over? What do you mean, you’re not dating? Just flat out sleeping together? What’s he like in bed? Is he just great?”

  “Patty, you are asking very personal questions,” Julie moaned.

  “Hey. They’re the best kind. Come on. Tell all.”

  “Patty, you’ve got about five minutes to shower.”

  “Hell, I’ll give up the shower for the information.”

  “Well you’re not getting any information, so go get ready.”

  “Well, all right. But as good-looking as McCoy is, I think you need to think about this one seriously. After all, if he bought you this giant dog after just a few dates, or sessions, or whatever you’re having, imagine what he’d get you for a first anniversary present? An African elephant would not be out of the question.”

  “Would you please go get ready!” Julie commanded. Patty laughed and went upstairs.

  Julie started to lock up the house, then remembered Rusty in the basement. She opened the door, calling to him. Absently she patted him on the head and straightened the kitchen. She heard Patty ask if she could wear a certain pair of jeans and Julie called back that she could wear anything that she wanted.

  Then Patty came running down the stairs, and Julie went up to brush her teeth and her hair. She grabbed a jacket and her shoulder bag and hurried down the stairs.

  Patty had stepped outside and was sitting on the porch, as Julie had been when Patty and Joe had arrived. Rusty had decided to like her. He was slumped on the porch, his nose in Patty’s lap. “Sorry, Rusty, we’ve got to go,” Julie said. “I’ve got to put you inside.”

  “He seems to like the outside. Maybe you should just leave him on the porch.”

  “But he’s supposed to protect the house. I think he needs to do that from inside.”

  “Maybe,” Patty agreed.

  Julie shooed the dog in the house, and the two of them left. She winced, hearing him bark mournfully as they drove away.

  “So what is the story with McCoy?” Patty persisted, watching Julie as she drove.

  “I don’t think there is a story right now, and I really don’t want to talk about it,” Julie told her.

  “Oh, come on—”

  “No. I’m serious. Patty, you believe in me, even if he doesn’t, right? Well, I knew when he left last night that he didn’t mean to come back, that he intends to stay away. For some reason. I don’t know why. And he hates psychics to begin with. For—” She broke off, ready to kick herself. She still hadn’t gotten hold of Brenda.

  “For?” Patty persisted.

  “Nothing. I really don’t know, and I really don’t want to talk about it, all right?”

  Patty sighed. “But—”

  “Whatever was is over. All right?”

  “Fine! I won’t push the future! But you can tell me about the past, okay? Is he just the greatest thing since the invention of chewing gum?”

  Julie groaned out loud. “Patty!”

  “Okay, okay.”

  And Julie was certain that Patty did try, but try or not, all she did was ask questions about McCoy all through dinner.

  And even during the movie, despite the fact that Patty was entertained at last, Julie couldn’t get her mind off McCoy. The whole thing was so crazy.

  It must have been a good movie, because everyone else in the audience kept laughing hysterically. Patty was laughing so hard that she punched Julie on occasion.

  Damn McCoy. She couldn’t even enjoy a movie anymore!

  She stood up suddenly, determined to leave the theater and find a phone.

  “Julie!” Patty said. “I’ve got more popcorn here—”

  “I’m not going for popcorn,” she whispered.

  “Ladies, please?” the fat man behind them intoned.

  Julie apologized, quickly slipped from her row and hurried from the movie. In the lobby, she found a phone, and dialed Brenda’s number.

  She had no difficulty. She had called McCoy’s sister so many times now that she knew the number by heart.

  “Oh, Brenda, come on, please!” she murmured. She was delighted when the phone was answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Brenda, it’s Julie!”

  “Julie! Hi, I’ve been trying to get you back—”

  “I know. I’m not home. I’m at the movies.”

  “Oh. What are you seeing?”

  Julie told her.

  “Oh, I’ve been dying to see that! Is it as good as they say?”

  “I guess so. The whole audience is laughing.”

  “Oh, my lord, but I never finished telling you the end of the story about Robert! Oh, Julie, I forgot, or I would have made sure to reach you today.”

  “Can you tell me now?”

  “Yes, of course. Julie, he’s really not as bad a bear as maybe he seems at times. And he’s worried about you. And all right, he has a real problem with psychics. Julie, his wife was murdered.”

  “What!” Julie gasped. She must have been very loud. She was standing in the lobby, but the theater manager frowned at her. “Sorry,” she mouthed.

  “Yes, she was killed. And under very similar circumstances to those right now. They lived in California. McCoy was already working on the case when Serena was taken from a shopping mall. It was entirely coincidenc
e. This man locked his victims in freezers. And McCoy was desperate so he listened to the psychic they had brought him, and, well, she directed him into the heart of L.A. when Serena was out in the suburbs.”

  “Oh, God!” Julie breathed.

  “I’m sorry. It’s awful, but I thought you should know. Maybe you would understand him a little bit better.”

  “I’m not sure if it matters or not.”

  “I know that it matters. I’ve seen him date since then, and I’ve met some of the women. I haven’t seen him care since then. And he does care now. Very much.”

  “Very much—but maybe not enough. I don’t know,” Julie said. “But whatever, Brenda, thank you. Thank you very much.”

  “Of course. Well, you can’t possibly enjoy that movie now. Go try, though.”

  She thanked Brenda again and hung up, feeling numb. She stood in the lobby, leaning against the wall. Okay, so she understood him now. Or at least she understood an awful lot.

  She stared blankly at her fingers. All right, so this was hard for him. But it was hard for her, too. She should have run from him the moment she met him. He had been hurt.

  Maybe she’d never had to deal with anything quite so horrible, but she’d had her own losses.

  She hadn’t cared. Her feelings for McCoy had just been too strong.

  The movie was letting out. She stood by the phone until Patty came by.

  “You are a rotten date, Miss Hatfield! Has anyone ever told you that before?”

  “I’m sure they’ve thought it on occasion,” Julie said.

  “Well? Did you make your call?”

  “Um—it was busy,” Julie said. She wasn’t ready to talk about the information she had received—not with anyone. She felt too numb.

  “Come on—let me get you home,” she told Patty. And she feigned a cheerful interest in the movie as they left.

  It was late and dark in the mountains by the time she had driven Patty to her home, an old house almost on top of the park area, then driven to her own mountain. She was surprised at how nervous she felt approaching her house. She hadn’t thought about the night, or the darkness, or anything but McCoy.

  And now …

  It was just that the place seemed so dark.

  She parked the car and stepped out, staring at the house. Why hadn’t she left on more lights?

  And why wasn’t the dog barking?

  Julie bit her lip. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.

  She wasn’t alone …

  She swallowed the sudden certainty, then tried to decide if someone was outside, near her, watching her.

  Or if someone had gotten into the house.

  “Rusty!” she called softly.

  There was no answer. Only the soft whisper of wind through the trees.

  It was suddenly cold, very cold. Was there danger outside?

  Julie raced for the house, then paused on the porch. Had she locked the door? She remembered ushering Rusty into the house, but had she locked the door?

  Oh, God! She didn’t know in which direction she should be running.

  All she knew was that she was not alone on her mountain that night.

  “Rusty!” she called softly again. She looked down. Her keys were in her hand. Should she open the door or run to her car and drive away as fast as she could?

  Could she reach her car?

  Suddenly, her front door swung open.

  And someone was there. Someone tall and unearthly dark in the night. Someone towering and staring at her and—

  A scream tore from her throat, and she turned to run. Too late. A hand shot out and fingers curled around her upper arm like a vise. Another scream ripped from her lips, and she turned, swinging, only to be caught in a set of powerful arms.

  “Damnation, Julie, what the hell is the matter with you?”

  McCoy. It was McCoy! She gasped, stepping back. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness. “McCoy!”

  “Yes, damn it, it’s me.”

  Relief flooded through her.

  “You all right now?”

  “Yes, I’m all right now.” He released her. She slammed her purse against his arm with all the power she could muster.

  “What the hell—”

  “You scared me to death!” she gasped.

  “I scared you! I came out here and you had left the place wide open!”

  “I left it with my attack dog waiting right in the entryway!”

  “But you still need to lock your doors!”

  “Well, who the hell knew you would just step right into my house?”

  “Fool woman, I was trying to make sure that you weren’t in trouble somewhere in it!”

  “Well, I’m not. I’m just fine, thank you. With no thanks to you. And what are you doing here, anyway? You said that you—you said that you weren’t coming back!” Her voice had broken. She was dismayed by the emotion she had betrayed with her words.

  Then she felt his eyes on her in the darkness. “No, Julie. You said that I wasn’t coming back.” He sighed. “And I didn’t come back. Not last night. And I didn’t mean to come back. Not tonight.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I don’t know,” he said very softly. “Yes, I do. I’m back because I want to go away. With you.”

  She gasped, stared at him, then brushed past him in a fury. “Oh, no, no, no, no! I will be neurotic by the time you finish with me, McCoy. First you can’t seem to live without me, and then you don’t want to be anywhere near me. Then you say that you’re not coming back—”

  “Wait a minute!” The door slammed behind them. Rusty barked at last, wagging his tail.

  McCoy caught Julie’s shoulders and spun her around to see him. “I will remind you, Miss Hatfield, you were the one who decided that I was not coming back!”

  “But I was leading your mind!”

  “I do not believe in mind reading!”

  “That’s right! You don’t believe in anything. You don’t believe in me, and I don’t even know if you really believe in the possibilities of love anymore! I’m trying to understand, and I do understand, and I’m so sorry—”

  “So sorry about what?” he exploded suddenly, wrenching her close to him. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your wife!”

  Suddenly, he thrust her away. His eyes narrowed. “Who told you about Serena?”

  “Your sister.”

  “Did she tell you that a wonder woman, the marvel of the state of California, sent me on a wild-goose chase while Serena lay in that freezer, suffocating to death?”

  “Yes, she told me.”

  He exploded with an oath and stared at the ceiling, as tense as a man could be, his hands braced at his hips. “Then have some mercy, Julie! Understand that I don’t want to hear anything about what you think you’re seeing in any visions!”

  “And understand why you want me one day, and not the next, too? I’m sorry, McCoy. I can’t. I gave you faith, I gave you everything. I need some of it back.”

  “Julie, damn you. After what happened, what the hell do you want out of me?”

  “I want you to believe in me!”

  “Damn you, I don’t believe—”

  “I know you don’t! You don’t believe in anything! Maybe you can’t believe in anything. And that’s why I don’t want you back!”

  “What are you talking about?” He stepped back and hit the light switch. Julie blinked against the sudden harsh glare. She bit her lower lip.

  “Nothing,” she said wearily. But she had gone too far, and she knew it. He was going to hound her until she said something to him.

  “Julie—”

  “All right!” she flared, staring at him. She took a step toward him. “All right, McCoy, so you don’t believe in psychics. I do understand. But you don’t want anything to do with that part of me. Well, I don’t want any part of the disbelieving part of you. Because I really couldn’t stand it. A time could come when I’d know you were
in danger, serious danger, and you wouldn’t listen to me—”

  “Wait. Wait right there, Hatfield!” he warned her suddenly. She had advanced on him. Foolish. He was bigger. And now his hands were on her shoulders, and his eyes were silver as they glared hotly into hers. “We went through this once. You asked me if I’d listen to you if you warned me about danger. Even if it was only to humor you.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And I said that I would.”

  “You just said that to shut me up!” Julie told him angrily. “So you go right ahead, McCoy! You just keep shutting me out and walking away, because that’s the way I want it! I can’t take any more.”

  She was amazed at the emotion that had suddenly risen within her. Her words were hot, impassioned and furious. And there were tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t want to see him any more. She spun blindly and headed for the stairs.

  “Julie!”

  She ignored him and raced to her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her. It didn’t deter him in the least. A second later he was behind her, catching her on her bed, flipping her over to meet his eyes when she would have kept her back to him.

  “Stop. I know all about Michael Grainger.”

  Julie gasped, amazed that he knew. Then she wasn’t so amazed. There were any number of people whom he might have asked about her.

  “Well, if you know—”

  “He was killed two days before your wedding, Petty told me. And he was killed because he rode his motorcycle when you warned him not to.”

  “Yes! Yes!” Julie shouted at him. “And you’d be just like him, telling me that I was wrong all the time. No, you’re not just like him. You’re worse. You’ve been hurt once. You won’t take any chances. There are no hard and fast guarantees in this life. Not in love, and not for life itself. And, oh, God, McCoy, I really am so sorry. So very sorry. But I do have something. It isn’t there all the time. It isn’t mechanical. It didn’t come with a warranty. It is a gift, and I have to use it when I can. But in my own life, McCoy, I have to have someone willing to believe!”

  “Julie …” He started to kiss her forehead.

  “No!” she cried out brokenly.

  He braced himself against her. Tension knotted throughout him like wire.

  Then he gently pulled her into his arms.

  “McCoy—”

 

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