Dear Maggie
Page 10
“How?”
“I’ll think of something. See you in about thirty minutes.”
He ended the call and looked at Mendez and Hurley, who were regarding him quizzically. “You got a girl already?” Mendez asked.
“Some parts of this job are better than others,” Nick said. “Now, show me where Dr. Dan told you he found the bracelet, then head downtown and get started on that composite. I want the details of this creep’s face while they’re still fresh in your mind.”
“I’m not likely to forget the bastard now,” Mendez grumbled.
Nick couldn’t help chuckling. “We’ll get him,” he promised. “Because we won’t rest until we do.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAGGIE FOUND NICK sitting in a shady spot on the riverbank, staring out over the water, deep in concentration. At three o’clock, the sun was still high in the sky, the weather sticky-hot. Maggie’s cotton top and shorts clung to her from the taxi ride. The car’s air conditioner hadn’t quite made it to the back seat. But the meter ran like a dream.
Orange crime-scene tape roped off a section of a dirt boat-launch and some surrounding trees not far from where Nick sat. Everything smelled green and woodsy and a little like licorice, because of the anise growing next to the bridge.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked, coming up on him from the side.
He took a deep breath, glanced over at the crime scene area, then shook his head. “Just wondering what was keeping you. It’s been more than an hour.”
“Sorry. I’ve been trying to get hold of the guy who found the bracelet—Mr. Bates—but he doesn’t answer his phone. A little old lady lives at his address. She said the police came by, too, but she’s never heard of him. I knocked on every apartment in the complex. And there had to be sixty.”
A sardonic smile curved Nick’s generous mouth.
“What?” Maggie demanded.
“Nothing.”
“That smile means something.”
“Did you pay the cab to wait while you did all that door knocking?”
“Of course.”
“Then it means I owe you more than just dinner. How ’bout a night on the town?”
“Tonight?” Maggie frowned at the fatigue showing in Nick’s eyes. “You’re exhausted. I think you should go home and get some sleep.”
He nodded. “That would probably be best. What do you want me to shoot? I’ve been looking at the crime scene over there. Nothing makes it any different from the rest of the riverbank.”
Maggie checked for herself. The boat launch sank into the water just twenty feet below the paved bike trail. A small clearing on the other side boasted a gravel lot with two trucks, one trailer and a green Porta Potti. The launch wasn’t designed for anything bigger than kayaks and fishing boats.
“Let’s get a few shots of the trees over there.” She indicated a stand of oak next to a small footpath leading into denser foliage. “I want to show the police tape blocking off this section, with the river beyond. I need something to give the impression that an incident of importance happened here, right in our communal backyard.”
“Okay.” He stood and took several pictures of the crime scene, then turned his camera on her.
“What are you doing?” Maggie asked, embarrassed. She waved him away, but his shutter clicked again and again. “Stop! The Trib’s not going to like owning an extra twenty pictures of me.”
“Which is why I’ll process them myself,” he said.
“And do what with them?”
“Keep them to remember you by.”
That took Maggie by surprise. “Are you planning on leaving?”
He shrugged. “Not right away.”
“But eventually?”
“We all move on eventually.”
Which was exactly the type of answer Maggie should have expected from a man like Nick, but it bothered her all the same. “I don’t think I want to have dinner with you,” she said.
“Tonight?”
“Ever. Let’s go.”
He didn’t say anything as he followed her to her car. When she reached out for the keys, he handed them over without argument. Then he climbed in the passenger side and lowered the seat into a reclining position.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“Just take me to the office. I have some things to do there, and my truck’s in the lot anyway.
“I thought you were going to get some sleep.”
“I am. I’m going to grab a twenty-minute nap right now.”
If he wanted to kill himself from overwork, it wasn’t up to Maggie to stop him. She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t sound like her mother or Mrs. Gruber and started the car. Nick was capable of making his own decisions. He’d be fine, she told herself, but she glanced over at him every few minutes, just to be sure. Now that his eyes were closed, she could study him with an abandon she’d never allowed herself before. The broad forehead, square-cut jaw, blunt chin and contours of cheek and lip, combined with the recent memory of his taunting grin and the devilish glint that entered his eyes every now and then, created a package so perfect she should have been content just to look.
But since when was looking enough for anyone?
Her gaze lowered to the muscular definition of the tanned arms crossed over his chest, the flat stomach beneath and finally the snug fit of his jeans….
Maggie jerked her attention back to the road. She’d never had a truly passionate affair, even with her husband. But that wasn’t what she needed now. She wanted to get married again, and married life was more than passion. A good relationship required selfless love and true dedication. A good relationship required commitment strong enough to pull a couple through the bad times as well as the good. All of which spoke of permanence.
Nothing about Nick said forever. Live for the moment, maybe. Que sera, sera. But definitely not “till death do us part.”
Wrong guy, she told herself. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the woman Nick had admitted making love to sometime during the past three years. What had she been like? Tall and fair? Short, dark and busty? Either way, she obviously hadn’t managed to capture Nick’s heart. But that wouldn’t be an easy feat for any woman.
“Poor thing,” Maggie muttered.
“NICK, WE’RE HERE.” Maggie let her Camry idle in the Trib’s parking lot behind Nick’s truck and gently shook his shoulder.
He didn’t wake immediately. When he did, he shifted in the seat and mumbled something about taking him home. Maggie was glad to see he’d decided to get some real sleep. Only problem was she didn’t know where he lived.
“What’s your address?” she asked.
He didn’t respond.
“Nick.” She put a hand on the warm flesh of his forearm and pretended, without success, that it felt like any other man’s—her brother’s, her ex-husband’s, Ray from Sports, who’d hung up on her when she’d called him back to tell him she couldn’t go to the game with him. “Are you going to wake up?”
This earned her an irritated grunt and another change in position but not full consciousness. Only a moment later, Nick’s breathing evened out and his chest once again rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
What now? Maggie wondered. She had a two-hundred-pound man in her car and didn’t know how to get rid of him. Worse, it was Nick Sorenson, and they were sitting in front of the office. If Darla or any of the other women who worked in the newsroom happened to see them, Maggie would never hear the end of it.
Glancing at the front doors of the building, which had a stream of people coming and going, as usual, she shifted into drive and exited the lot.
They reached her place ten minutes later. She pulled alongside the house, halfway between her detached garage and the narrow tree-lined street out front and cut the engine.
Still Nick didn’t move.
Maggie went around the car, opened his door and leaned in. “Nick? We’re here. Wake up long enough to help me get you inside, okay?”
“It’s too hot to leave you out here. Come on, let’s go inside.”
Nothing.
“Nick? There’s an air conditioner in my bedroom window. It’s cooler in there.”
His lids lifted again. “You’re going to let me sleep in your bed?”
Maggie tried not to smile. “I doubt you’d fit in Zach’s toddler bed, and Mrs. Gruber’s room smells like a medicine cabinet. She plasters her nose and chest with some kind of ointment before bedtime.” Of course, there was always the couch, but wicker wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, and Nick needed several hours of deep sleep. He was more likely to manage that in her room, away from the heat that permeated the rest of the house and the noise Zach would make when he came home, if he and Mrs. Gruber weren’t there already.
“Are you going to lie down with me?” he asked. “You need sleep, too.”
“I don’t need it that badly.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?”
“I wouldn’t trust you if you were a eunuch.”
“Eunuch.” He grimaced. “Few words are less appealing to a man.”
She laughed and tugged on his arm. He finally launched himself up and out of the car while she went ahead to unlock the house.
Inside, everything was completely still except for the steady hum of the air conditioner in her bedroom, the whir of the fan in Zach’s room, and the cough and rattle of the old fridge in the kitchen. Evidently, Zach and Mrs. Gruber had decided to spend the day next door, where the whole place was air-conditioned.
Maggie showed Nick down the hall to her room, then closed the door behind him and hurried to the kitchen to call Mrs. Gruber.
“I’m home. I’ll be over to grab Zach as soon as I can get a cold drink.”
“I bought a wading pool and Eric’s bringing Rusty over. I think Zach would like to stay a little longer so he can swim.”
Eric was Mrs. Gruber’s married son, a resident of Elk Grove, thirty minutes away. Rusty was her grandson and Zach’s only friend. Of course Zach would want to see Rusty.
“That’s fine. Just call me when they’re done swimming.”
“Okay. Zach’s asking to talk to you.”
Maggie spoke to her son and confirmed that he had his heart set on staying, then hung up. Zach would be occupied for a couple more hours, which would’ve been great. Except today she had Nick Sorenson in her bed and nothing to distract her. She couldn’t even log on to the Internet to see if John had written because the computer was in her room…with Nick.
She crossed the kitchen to stare inside the freezer, wondering whether or not she should make the steak dinner she’d thought about earlier, when a quick knock sounded at the front door and Darla breezed into the house. “Maggie, time to wake up,” she called.
Oh no! Maggie dashed around the corner in time to see her friend turn down the hall to her bedroom. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” she said before Darla could reach the door. “What’s up?”
Darla glanced at the closed bedroom as though surprised to see Maggie coming from the opposite direction but allowed herself to be drawn back to the living room. “Just got off work and thought I’d stop by to see whether you’re rested up for the day. I figured maybe you, me and Zach could go out for pizza.”
“Mrs. Gruber’s grandson is coming over. Zach wants to stay there for a little longer so he can play.”
“Just you and me, then.”
Now was probably a good time to mention that Nick was sleeping in her bed. But Maggie didn’t want Darla to say or do anything that would embarrass her while he was close enough to hear if he woke.
“I don’t think so, thanks. Not tonight,” she said.
“Why not? You want to get something besides pizza, then?”
Maggie considered the invitation, chagrined by her own reluctance to accept it. Nick had been in her house for fifteen minutes and already she wanted to throw over a night out with a friend for a night spent in his presence.
She’d known he was trouble from the start.
Probably it was smarter to override the stay-home-with-Nick instinct, get out of the house and forget about the man in her bed. Otherwise, she might make him dinner…and momentarily forget her high ideals.
“Okay. Let me get my purse and call Mrs. Gruber to tell her I’m going,” she said.
A few minutes later, she followed Darla through the door and down the path to the sidewalk, rounded a blue Geo Metro someone had parked in front of her house, and climbed into Darla’s Toyota 4Runner.
NICK WOKE to the smell of Maggie. Fresh and clean and completely feminine, her scent was everywhere. On the pillow, on the sheets, in the air. He took a deep breath, remembering where he was and savoring the feel of being in her personal space. Then he forced his eyes open. What time was it? He hadn’t meant to sleep more than a few hours. He needed to get his truck and go back to his apartment. He needed to call Mendez and check on the progress of that composite. He needed to get a copy of the tire tracks at the river and send the trace evidence to the lab and—
The darkness beyond the window finally penetrated his brain, and he shot upright. It was late. Far later than he’d thought. Where was Maggie? Had she left for work? Why didn’t she wake him?
Running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, he skirted the bed and headed for the hall. Zach was asleep in the room next to Maggie’s. From where he paused in the doorway, Nick could easily see the child’s silhouette in the moonlight filtering through his open window.
Open was the operative word. Zach’s window had bars on it, but there were plenty of others in the house that didn’t. Were they open, too? That worried him. If Dr. Dan ever came to call, he’d only have to cut the screen and slip inside—
Forget it. It wasn’t going to happen. Not to Maggie or Zach. Dr. Dan hadn’t even contacted her. He was too busy playing other games, like the one today at the river.
The floor creaked as Nick walked to Mrs. Gruber’s room. He expected to find the old lady snoring softly beneath a heavy quilt, despite the warm night, but her bed was perfectly made and perfectly empty. Where, then, was Maggie?
Retracing his steps down the hall, Nick turned left and entered the living room to find the back door open to the screened-in porch. It allowed a cool breeze to circulate through the house, but for Maggie’s safety, Nick wanted to shut the door and bolt the lock. He’d have to warn her somehow. He couldn’t let her continue taking these risks.
If it wasn’t too late already. No one was sleeping on the couch. No one was rummaging through the refrigerator for a midnight snack. Maggie wasn’t anywhere in the house.
Nick’s heart started to pound and his fingers craved the gun he’d left at his apartment. He glanced outside to find her car where she’d parked it earlier, a dim shadow, along with all the other dim shadows in the night. He didn’t think it had been moved since she’d brought him home.
Slipping outside through the back, he checked the yard. Nothing. No sign of her. The hood of her car was cool. No lights blazed in Mrs. Gruber’s house next door. He was just about to go inside to try calling Maggie at work, hoping Darla or someone else had given her a ride, when he saw a feminine form sleeping in the lawn chair on the porch.
It was Maggie. He could see her pretty face in the same moonlight that illuminated Zach’s room. A pale-colored sheet was drawn to her waist, covering her legs. He let his breath out in a rush. God, she’d scared him.
Bending over her, he wrapped a silky lock of auburn hair around one finger while he waited for his blood pressure to settle down. She was alive, fine, asleep. His imagination, fueled by the gruesome images of the murder victims he’d seen over and over again, had run away with him. That was all. “Maggie?”
He ran a finger from temple to chin, and her eyes f
luttered open, widening when she recognized him. “Nick?”
“Why are you sleeping out here?” he asked.
A faint smile touched her lips. “Because the last time I looked, there was a strange man in my bed.”
“You should have kicked me out.”
“You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to disturb you. And it’s much cooler out here than in the living room. I can’t sleep when it’s so hot.”
“You need central air.”
“I need two thousand dollars.” She adjusted the back of her chair into a sitting position, and Nick stepped away to sink into the wicker loveseat across from her. Dressed in a spaghetti strap T-shirt, and what he guessed was a pair of boxers under the sheet, Maggie wasn’t wearing a bra. Most women didn’t sleep in one, but his body’s immediate and powerful reaction to the gentle sway of her breasts surprised him.
For a moment, he feared he was getting pulled too far into his cover. When all was said and done, he had to be able to walk away. It went with the job.
“Why aren’t you at the office?” he asked.
“Because I worked most of the day. Before I came out here, I wrote a short piece about the diamond bracelet being found and faxed it to Ben, but I knew I’d never make it through another night on three hours of sleep. So I called someone to take my place.” She smiled. “I let them know not to expect you, either. I told them you’d been working with me all day and went home dog-tired.”
He had been tired, but Nick could find no trace of that exhaustion now. Awareness of Maggie zipped through every nerve; he had to make a conscious effort not to reach for her. He wanted to see if he could get her to respond to him. He wanted to draw her out in a passionate kiss. He wanted to teach her what good lovemaking could feel like….
“Do you always leave your doors and windows open?” he asked.
“In the summer.”
“Do you think that’s smart?”
She yawned. “Probably not. But we couldn’t survive the heat any other way.” Still filled with sleep, her voice was deeper than usual. More sultry. Downright sexy. Nick didn’t know if it was the late hour, the creamy cleavage her shirt revealed or the way he could still smell her on his clothes and body after sleeping in her bed, but he had to take a quick breath and slide his chair farther away. Otherwise, the temptation to run a finger along her collarbone and down the swell of one breast until he cupped it in his palm would be too difficult to refuse.