Sultry

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Sultry Page 23

by Mary Lynn Baxter


  Now, as she tried to make sense out of something that made no sense at all, Lindsay fought against an oncoming bout of depression.

  No. She wouldn’t allow that to happen. She had come too far to slip back into that dark hole. Besides, she had too many people depending on her. For starters, the shelter and the ongoing project. She couldn’t let everyone down who had backed it. More importantly, she couldn’t let herself down.

  This latest debacle with Mitch and Tim was just another curve in the road—albeit a sharp one—that she would have to ride out. Somehow, somewhere, she would find the strength.

  As for Mitch—well, her torrid feelings for him would have to be shelved again. Until this was resolved with Tim, she didn’t dare put her soul under any more glaring lights.

  She still loved Mitch, but love without trust could not endure. Dear Lord, she wept silently, how could things have careened out of control so suddenly, without warning?

  Crying over spilled milk certainly wasn’t the answer. She knew that from experience. The only way to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again was to find the truth.

  As badly as she hated to admit it, Mitch had raised doubts in her mind. He had sounded so convinced that she couldn’t ignore what he’d said, even though she wanted to with everything that was in her.

  Suddenly Lindsay felt the need to hurt Mitch for making her distrust her brother the same way she had come to distrust him. Yet she had loved her unborn child, and if losing it wasn’t an act of nature, then she wanted to know that, as well.

  Sometimes life sucked. Like now.

  Turning, Lindsay went back inside, straight to her desk, and picked up the phone. A few minutes later, her gynecologist came on the line.

  “It’s Lindsay, Dr. Mason. Lindsay New—er, Rawlins.”

  “How are you?”

  “Better than I was, thank you.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Tell me the truth concerning my baby.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said gently.

  A few minutes later, Lindsay dropped the receiver back in its cradle, feeling dizzy. And sad. But then she rallied, refusing to wallow in self-pity. Forcing herself to get up, she dressed in a cream silk pants outfit and left the house.

  When she arrived at Tim’s office, she was afraid he wouldn’t be in, since it was a good hour before he was due to see patients. But luck was with her: his car was in its private parking place.

  On jelly-like legs, Lindsay made her way inside the building, then up to Tim’s plush suite. No one was in the outer office, so she went straight to Tim’s door and knocked.

  “It’s open.”

  When she walked in, his eyes widened. “Why, sis, what a surprise.”

  “Hello, Tim,” she said with a catch in her voice.

  He came around the desk and, after hugging her briefly, stepped back. “I’m so sorry about the baby.”

  “I know,” she whispered, thinking he looked about as bad as she’d ever seen him look. “Frayed around the edges” was an apt description.

  “Hey, have a seat.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured, sitting in the chair directly in front of his desk. He took the adjacent one, then asked, “How ’bout some coffee?”

  “Not right now. Maybe later.”

  He jumped up as though it was hard for him to sit still. “Mine’s tepid. I’ll just be a sec.”

  She watched him from under thick lashes as he poured the coffee. His hand shook, which was not a good sign. No doubt he was nervous. Was her presence responsible? Or had he been jittery before she arrived?

  She didn’t know any other way to find out except to hit him with the words that were about to choke her.

  “So to what do I owe this honor?” he asked, sitting back down.

  His eyes behind his glasses dodged hers, which was not good, either. “It’s not a social visit, I’m afraid,” she said softly but bluntly.

  His entire body seemed to shift into an alert mode. “Uh, that’s too bad, since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

  “You said a few minutes ago you were sorry about…the baby.”

  “Of course I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry enough to tell me the truth?”

  His thin features seemed to shrink suddenly, calling attention to the prominent bones underneath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, I think you do.”

  “Suppose you enlighten me.”

  His tone was a mixture of sarcasm and amusement, both of which made her itch to slap him.

  “What about the medicine you sell in your pharmacies?”

  He didn’t so much as move a muscle. “What about it?”

  “Where do you get it?”

  That question hit the mark. His nostrils flared, and a spark of fear leapt into his eyes. Yet when he spoke, his voice was nonchalant. “I can’t for the life of me figure out why that would concern you.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Tim, stop it! You’re not only playing me for a fool, but yourself, as well.”

  His color heightened. “Now, see here, Lindsay. You can’t talk to me like that.”

  “I sure can when it comes to the lethal drug I took.”

  His nostrils flared even more, and a fine line of perspiration broke through his mustache, darkening it. “You’re full of shit.”

  “Oh, really? I don’t think so, and not according to Dr. Mason, either.”

  “Then he’s full of shit.”

  Sweat now filled the fine lines on Tim’s forehead. “I didn’t come here to trade insults, Tim, but if that’s what it’s going to come down to, then I’m willing.”

  “What the hell is this all about?”

  “It’s about the drug Eve brought me when I was so sick—the drug that came from your supply.”

  “I know about that, of course. But that’s all I know.”

  So this was how it was going to go down, Lindsay thought, feeling heartsick. He was lying. She knew that with every fiber of her being.

  “The medicine I took was mislabeled.”

  “Mislabeled.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Come on, give me a break.”

  “How about I give you the bare facts?”

  “And just what would they be?”

  Again he was insultingly amused and sarcastic, which should have made her feel good about sucker punching him in the belly. Only it didn’t; it made her sick.

  “I’m sure you know there’s a drug they sell in Europe that induces miscarriages.”

  His eyebrows shot up, and the color receded from his face.

  “Instead of the packet containing anti-nausea medication, it contained that particular drug.”

  “Good God!” Tin lunged to his feet. “And you think I’m responsible?”

  “It came from your pharmacy.”

  “So what? I wouldn’t hurt anyone—least of all my own sister.”

  “Not intentionally, I know that. But when it comes to money, I don’t have much faith in you. If you could get foreign drugs more cheaply…” She let the rest of the thought hang in the air.

  “So what are you saying—that you hold me responsible for your baby’s death?”

  Lindsay hesitated. He sounded so outraged, so convincing. But the drug had come from his supply. What other explanation could there be?

  “Look, I know I’m not the best doctor, certainly not the caliber daddy was, but I’m a doctor, nonetheless, who’s sworn to heal, not kill.”

  “But the facts don’t lie, Tim!” she cried, peering up at him, aching to believe him.

  “I don’t give a damn what the facts are!” he exclaimed. “I’m innocent. You have to believe that.”

  Did she? She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. But unfortunately, she didn’t. However, she realized she wasn’t about to get a confession out of him. Continuing to spar with him like this was a waste of energy and time.

  “Have you said anything to Daddy?” he asked, ending the short, hostile silence. “And Rawl
ins—what about him?”

  “To my knowledge Daddy doesn’t know, but Mitch does.”

  “Great!”

  Lindsay rose.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  She took offense at his attitude and his words. “Hey, I don’t owe you an explanation for my actions.”

  “That works both ways,” he said in a frigid tone. “Remember that.”

  By the time Lindsay made it to her car, her stomach was pitching a fit, much as it had done when she’d been pregnant. Her baby. Misty-eyed, she covered her flat stomach with one hand, wondering if she and Mitch would ever create another child.

  Then, swallowing a sob, she started the engine and drove off.

  “Why, that bastard!” Mary Jane’s face turned scarlet. “Sorry, friend. I know he’s your brother, but—”

  “I’ve been calling him that and worse,” Lindsay responded in a dull voice.

  After leaving Tim’s office, she had called M.J. from her car phone. As luck would have it, M.J. had the day off. She had insisted Lindsay stop by her apartment.

  Now they were seated on the sofa, sipping peach-flavored iced tea.

  “So what are you going to do?” Mary Jane asked.

  “Hopefully find the truth.”

  “It won’t bring the baby back, you know.” Lindsay made a face. “Are you suggesting that I just drop the matter?”

  “Of course not. Only, Mitch is checking into it, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then let him handle it.”

  “But Tim’s my brother.”

  “That’s all the more reason to let Mitch handle it. You’re too close to the situation.”

  “And Mitch is too angry for too many reasons.”

  Mary Jane sighed. “Maybe that’s not all bad.”

  “Maybe,” Lindsay said, biting down on her lower lip.

  “So he’s not just a jack-of-all-trades, huh?”

  Lindsay didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Obviously not.”

  “A government agent.” Mary Jane shook her head. “Who would’ve thought it?”

  “Not me,” Lindsay responded with cloudy eyes. “I shudder to think what else he’s hiding.”

  “Did he give a reason for not confiding in you?”

  “None whatsoever.” Lindsay’s tone was hostile. “But then, secrecy’s been his modus operandi since I first met him.”

  “If I remember right, that was part of his charm.”

  “After we married, things changed. I changed.”

  “Well, kid, I’m so sorry for all the pain this has brought you. I know you love him, but—”

  “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

  Mary Jane reached over and squeezed her hand. “Still, I want you to promise me you’ll let Mitch take care of this mess with Tim. Don’t get in the middle.”

  Lindsay returned the squeeze, then stood. “I can’t promise that.”

  “So what are you saying?” Mary Jane’s eyes spoke volumes.

  “That I can’t let it go.” Lindsay’s chest heaved, but her voice grew more determined. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  Thirty-Three

  “Why, hello, Ms. Newman. Long time no see.”

  Lindsay gave Tim’s housekeeper a warm but brief smile. “You’re right, Juanita, I haven’t been here in a while. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Same here. Would you like to come in?”

  “Is Eve home?”

  “No, ma’am, she isn’t. She’s out of town for a few days, visiting a sick friend.”

  How convenient, Lindsay thought. Her spirits, which had been pumped up with adrenaline, suddenly deflated.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Lindsay realized Juanita was giving her a strange look, which meant she had let her agitation show. “Thanks, but I’ll give Eve a ring next week.”

  “Well, don’t stay away so long.”

  “I won’t. Take care, you hear?”

  Once Juanita had closed the door, Lindsay slowly made her way back to her car, her mind still in an uproar. Despite Mary Jane’s plea ringing in her ears, she had made a definite decision to follow through with her own investigation.

  She almost smiled at the use of the word investigation. It sounded so sinister, so cloak-and-daggerish, something that was as foreign to her as living in a developing country. Yet the days when she was content to sit idly by and let others tell her what to do and fight her battles for her were over.

  Mitch and the ongoing project were responsible for the new Lindsay. She had defied all odds to have both, though the verdict was still out on a future with Mitch.

  Would they ever reconcile their differences and live as husband and wife?

  The idea that they wouldn’t sent a sudden wave of panic through her. She wouldn’t think about that now. She wouldn’t think about him now.

  Suddenly she heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive. She stopped in her tracks. It was none other than Mitch behind the wheel.

  He braked the utility vehicle and got out, his eyes roaming over her. “What are you doing here?”

  Both his high-handed attitude and the tone of his voice rankled. She bristled. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  “I came to talk to your sister-in-law.”

  “Me, too.”

  His features hardened. “Let me handle this, Lindsay.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t—or won’t?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Look, this is not a game.”

  Lindsay flung her head back. “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “No, I sure as hell don’t.”

  They stared at each other for another long moment, tension vibrating between them.

  “Look, I’m not one of your subordinates you can order around,” Lindsay finally said.

  Despite her efforts to hold it steady, her lower lip wobbled slightly. She hated arguing with him. She hated their being at cross-purposes, which seemed to have become their way of life of late.

  What she really wanted to do was fling herself into his strong arms and have him hold her, comfort her, make love to her.

  As if Mitch could read her mind, his gaze softened, and his voice, when he spoke, had a gentleness to it. “I’m not trying to hurt you. You’ve got to believe that.”

  She struggled for a decent breath. “I want to know the truth myself.”

  “Then trust me to find it.”

  “Trust you?”

  The rebuke wasn’t lost on him; his features contorted. “Okay, I deserved that. But in spite of what you think, I’m not going to attack with guns loaded unless the need arises.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Dammit, Lindsay, if your brother’s guilty, then surely you want him nailed.”

  She rubbed her temple, where a mean headache was intruding. “Right now, all I want is for this nightmare to be over.”

  His features softened again, which was almost her undoing. Just when she thought they might have a chance to make a life for themselves together, another heartache further weakened an already shaky relationship.

  When was it all going to end?

  “It’ll be over soon, I promise,” he said, his fingers balling into fists. His eyes suddenly smoldered, raking over her once more.

  Her breath hung suspended.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, his tone raspy.

  “So do you,” she whispered, feeling warmth flood through her, settling at the apex of her thighs.

  He took a step toward her, then halted. “God, you have no idea how tempted I am to throw you down on the back seat of that car and bury myself deep inside you.”

  A moan slipped past her lips before they parted slightly. His apparent need of her was like a gigantic magnet, pulling her to him when she didn’t want to be pulled, at least not under these circumstances. “This is hardly the time—” />
  “I know,” he muttered harshly. “You don’t have to remind me.”

  Another silence.

  “So I’ll call you when I know something.”

  Mitch’s words brought her back to the real world with a hard thud. Her insides recoiled, and she glared at him. Had he deliberately been using his sexual charm to get what he wanted which was carte blanche to hang her entire family along with her brother, regardless of his guilt or innocence? To hang her entire family?

  Those ugly thoughts almost made her knees buckle. Surely he wouldn’t stoop that low? But what did she really know about this man? He remained a stranger in too many ways.

  “I’m making no promises,” she said into the thick silence.

  His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why not? I thought we had a deal.”

  “I don’t know where you got that,” she said, skirting around him in order to get to her car.

  He grabbed her arm. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stop. She looked down at his fingers, felt their callused warmth penetrate her flesh.

  Then her head came back up, and her eyes flashed. “Let go of me.”

  “Lindsay—”

  She jerked away, got behind the wheel and drove off, her heart beating in a frenzy.

  Mitch watched Ken Avery’s face closely, looking for a twitch, anything that would give him a clue as to what his ex-boss was thinking.

  No such luck. Avery’s “agent” facade was completely in place, which meant he wasn’t giving anything away, leaving Mitch no choice but to tighten the screws.

  “Like I told you, it’s a favor for a favor.”

  Avery’s body tensed. “I’m not sure we can do that.”

  “Apparently you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”

  Avery kept his stone face intact. “You always were a royal pain in the ass, Rawlins.”

  “That’s why I was your best field man.”

  Avery’s mouth turned down. “Who told you that?”

  “You did.”

  “Hogwash.”

  Mitch grinned briefly, then suddenly grimaced. “Some things don’t ever change.”

  “Do you ever have any regrets over walking away?” Avery shifted his big body in the desk chair, making it screech. “Hell, I still can’t believe you did it.”

 

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