One of the Good Guys

by Carla Cassidy

  Libby finished her shower, then left the bathroom, shivering slightly as she remembered the blackness of Tony’s eyes when she had opened the bathroom door and found him standing there. For a moment, for just a brief moment, she had thought he was going to grab her in his arms, throw her on the bed and have his way with her. She smiled at this thought, knowing that in having his way with her he would please her, as well.

  She went over to the window and peered out. Darkness was beginning to fall and she wished Tony would come back. She didn’t like the idea of being in this room all alone.

  She got into bed, not knowing what else to do. She opened up the drawer in the dresser next to the bed and pulled out the only book the room boasted. This particular copy of the Bible looked like it had been read by hundreds and hundreds of people. The pages were yellowed, some torn, and she found herself wondering about the people who had rented this room before them. Had they been hiding? Or had some been lovers, come to find a night of pleasure in an off-the-tracks motel? She bet if these walls could talk, they would have hundreds of stories, slices of lives from people diverse and similar.

  Where the hell was Tony? Where could he have gone? She jumped as she heard something outside the window. A thud, as if somebody had slipped and hit against it. She froze, tensed as she waited to hear if the sound would be repeated. Seconds ticked by…minutes…and still Libby didn’t relax. She suddenly had a feeling that there was somebody, something just outside the window.

  She slid off the bed and sidled across the room, holding her breath as she clicked off the light, plunging the room into darkness. All she could see was the faint outline of the window in the blackness that surrounded her.

  Still holding her breath, she moved to the window and lifted the corner of the curtain a fraction of an inch. She stifled a gasp as she saw the shadow of somebody standing near the corner of the building. She closed her eyes for a moment. Let it be Tony, she prayed, afraid to look again, but afraid not to. She opened her eyes and looked once again, fear welling up in her throat as she realized the shadow couldn’t be Tony, not unless he had grown an enormous potbelly since leaving the cabin.

  She allowed the curtain to fall back closed, fighting off an overwhelming sense of hysteria. Who was out there, and where in the hell was Tony? In the darkness of the room, she carefully made her way over to the cabinets, opening a drawer and rummaging around until she felt the handle of a paring knife. She knew it wasn’t exactly a lethal weapon, but at least with it in her hand she didn’t feel completely helpless. She squeezed the knife handle, realizing her palms were sweaty. She moved back over to the door, waiting…praying for Tony to return.

  * * *

  Tony walked around the side of the cabin, immediately freezing as he saw somebody lurking in the shadows by the front door. He leaned down and eased his gun out, his adrenaline pumping through his veins, a welcome, familiar visitor.

  He flattened himself against the rough wood of the cabin, narrowing his eyes as he watched the man, who seemed to be trying to look into the window. In an instant, Tony’s mind took note of several different things. The man was vastly overweight and was breathing heavily through his mouth. He also didn’t appear to have a gun or a weapon of any kind in his hands. Still, Tony knew better than to underestimate the man. If he was part of the group that was hunting them, he was dangerous and wouldn’t hesitate to kill to get what he wanted.

  Realizing he’d have a better chance of sneaking up on the man from the other side of the cabin, Tony eased himself around the corner of the building. With the stealth of a wild animal, he snuck around the back of the building, moving carefully so no twig, no branch would crackle beneath his feet and give away his presence. At that moment, he had the element of surprise on his side.

  He didn’t think anymore. He worked on instinct alone, allowing his years of police training to take over. He didn’t think again until he was directly behind the man, his gun stuck in his back. “Don’t move,” he breathed softly as the man froze. “Don’t move because I’m very nervous and you might make me shoot you.”

  “For God’s sake, don’t shoot,” the man cried.

  “Tony?” Libby’s frantic voice drifted out of the cabin door. “Tony, is that you?”

  “It’s me, Libby. Open the door,” Tony instructed, wanting to get the intruder inside, where he didn’t have to watch his back.

  Libby opened the door and turned on the interior light, its illumination spilling out to where Tony and the intruder stood. “Please don’t move too quickly,” Tony advised the fat stranger as he prodded him to go into the cabin.

  Tony smiled at Libby, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he motioned for her to sit on the bed out of the way. “This gentleman seems to have an inordinate amount of interest in this room,” he said pleasantly as he motioned for the man to have a seat at the kitchen table. His pleasant tone did nothing to diminish the fact that he was in control, and there was a cold calculation in his eyes that Libby had never seen before.

  As he faced the man, Tony’s gun didn’t waver, but pointed directly at the fat man’s belly. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us exactly why you are lurking around our room.”

  “For God’s sake, man, put the gun away. I didn’t mean no harm,” the fat man replied, sweat running profusely down the sides of his ruddy face. “I was just supposed to find out if she was with you,” he said, jabbing a finger toward Libby.

  “Why?” Tony asked, all pretense of pleasantry gone as he eyed the man coldly. “What do you want with her and who sent you here?”

  “I don’t want nothing with her. I was just supposed to find out if she was with you. He told me he was sure you two were…you know…screwing around.”

  “Bill,” Libby said flatly.

  The fat man nodded vigorously. “I’m a private investigator. Bill Weatherby hired me to find you two.”

  “How’d you find us?” Tony asked, the dangerous lights in his eyes diminished somewhat. He still held the gun out, somehow enjoying the man’s discomfort.

  “I got a friend at the police department who overheard that you were here in Muddy Creek.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “There’s only one motel around here, so you weren’t that hard to find.”

  “You have ID?”

  He nodded and reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a wallet. He flipped it open and held it out to Tony. Tony looked at the identification card, then thumbed through the rest of the documents in the wallet, satisfied that the man was indeed, who he said he was. He’d heard of the man before. Being in the same business, he knew most of the reputable and disreputable private dicks in the area. And what he knew about this particular man didn’t make him a model of the profession.

  “What’s Bill paying for your report?” he asked.

  “Five hundred a day plus expenses.”

  Tony smiled. “I’ll make you a little deal.” The fat man sat forward eagerly. “You go back and tell Bill you couldn’t find us and I’ll let you live.” Tony’s voice was deceptively soft, but his eyes held the hard glint of a man who didn’t make empty promises. “You get the hell out of here and don’t tell a soul that this is where we are, and I’ll never bother you again. But if you tell one person that we are here, I’ll find you wherever you are, and I’ll make sure you never speak another word.”

  The fat man’s face visibly paled. He cleared his throat several times. “Oh…as a professional courtesy, I won’t mention to anyone that you’re here,” he agreed.

  Tony smiled tightly. “As a professional courtesy, I strongly recommend you get into your car and drive as fast as you can back to Kansas City. You’re lucky I didn’t put a bullet in your back when I saw you at the window.” Tony dropped his gun and motioned for the door.

  The man moved with a speed that belied his bulky size, running out the door and disappearing into the darkness of the night.

  “Should we leave here?” Libby asked as Tony shut the door and carefully locked it.

 
“I don’t think so. I still think we’re safe for the time being. It was luck and connections that allowed him to find us.” He eyed the paring knife she still held in her hand. “What were you going to do with that pigsticker? Tickle him?”

  She smiled ruefully. “It’s the biggest knife in the drawer, but you’re right, it wouldn’t have done much against his protective layering.” Her smile faded. “Do you really think he’ll not tell anyone we’re here.”

  Tony nodded. “He’s a sleaze. He loves money, but he values his life even more. He won’t tell.”

  Libby put the knife back in the drawer, then sighed in disgust. “I can’t believe Bill hired that man. When will he quit?”

  Tony eased himself down into a kitchen chair. Now that the adrenaline had fled his body, weariness took its place. “You picked a real winner to marry,” he observed.

  Libby turned and looked at him. “Yes, it’s been my misfortune to be attracted to men who seem incapable of giving back real love.” She stared at him for a long moment, wondering if she hadn’t repeated the mistake.

  CHAPTER 10

  Tony awoke in the middle of the night. Somewhere, in a dark corner of the room, a cricket chirped in resounding monotony, but that wasn’t what had awakened him. It was her heat, surrounding him as in her sleep her body sought the contours of his. She was wrapped around his back like a blanket, her scent surrounding him like a dream. For a long moment he didn’t move, relishing the feel of her breasts pressed against his back, her legs spooned with his. He marveled at how well their bodies fit together, like utensils nestled together in a drawer.

  Suddenly the intimacy was too much. He eased himself away from her and out of bed, seeking a chair at the table. Fumbling around in the darkness, he found his pack of cigarettes and an ashtray. Strange—since being with Libby, he’d nearly broken the nicotine habit.

  He shook a cigarette from the pack, then changed his mind and threw the pack into the nearby trash can. Leaning his head back, he concentrated on all the reasons why he shouldn’t wake Libby and make love to her. He genuinely liked her, and that was one of the strongest reasons for not making love to her. He liked her and he didn’t want to hurt her.

  It had never mattered much with other women. He could be a bastard, love them and leave them without a backward glance. He never stuck around long enough for anyone to develop a true case of heartbreak complete with scars.

  Scars… He had enough from childhood to last him a lifetime. First, the scars of having a bastard for a father, then the scars from watching his mother lose her vitality, become colorless and without animation, eventually a shadow woman who had no life but what she could find in a bottle of gin. And the worst fear of all was that he truly was his father’s son, with all his father’s faults. He didn’t mind being a bastard to women who didn’t count, but he had promised himself a long time ago that he would never be responsible for making a woman a shadow, for sucking the life out of her and leaving her empty and bereft.

  He thought of the private investigator who’d been sent on his way. The man had been an out-of-shape, greedy pig who’d do anything for a dollar. What bothered Tony was the thought that by taking the job from Bill Weatherby, he had put himself in the same category as the fat P.I. Lately, it was more and more difficult to remember exactly why he had wanted to quit the police force and go into business for himself. It bothered him that he could end up like the fat sleaze…taking whatever kind of job was offered for a few dollars’ pay.

  “Tony?”

  He tensed at the sound of Libby’s voice in the darkness. “I’m here,” he answered after a moment of hesitation.

  He heard rather than saw her sit up in bed. “Is everything all right?” Her concern was evident in her tone.

  “Everything is fine,” he assured her. “Go back to sleep.”

  She didn’t go back to sleep. He heard the rustle of covers, the sound of her bare feet as they hit the floor. Then she stood next to him, her evocative scent all around him, the heat from her body surrounding him. “Are you all right?” she asked gently.

  For just a moment he hated her. He hated her concern, he hated her beauty, hated her because he cared about her. “I’m fine,” he answered tersely, wishing she’d go away, leave him alone.

  “Can’t sleep?” She moved even closer and he was afraid that if she touched him in any way, his tight control would break.

  “Damn it, Libby, just go back to bed,” he retorted sharply. He heard her sharp intake of surprise at his frigid tone, then the soft padding of her feet as she did as he asked. He breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Better that she think him a moody, cranky son of a bitch. Better that she realize he was a bastard. Better that, than let her see he was falling in love with her.

  * * *

  It was a long night, an even longer morning. Tony seemed to go out of his way to be surly. He snapped and snarled like a tethered dog who’d been teased by bullies, and it wasn’t long before Libby found a foul mood of her own.

  Like it’s my fault we’re stuck in this little cabin, she thought as she washed their lunch dishes. Like it’s all my fault the stupid necklace was brought into my shop. She looked over to where he sat at the table, staring blankly at the wall opposite him. She stifled the impulse to throw something at him.

  She finished the dishes, then joined him at the table, drumming her fingertips on the tabletop, knowing she irritated him and perversely finding satisfaction in doing so. “I preferred your empty, charming ways to this surly, black mood of yours,” she finally said, staring at him defiantly as he looked at her in surprise.

  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, a twinkle appeared in his eyes. Damn, but she had nerve. Most people, when faced with one of his black moods, steered clear. But she met him head-on, unafraid of repercussions. “I’m sorry, I have been rather hateful,” he admitted.

  “Rather hateful?” She raised a pale blond eyebrow. “Try again.”

  “Okay, I’ve been totally hateful.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t stand being cooped up in here. I’m used to action.”

  “This isn’t exactly my idea of a fun vacation, either,” she chided him.

  He laughed, finding it impossible to hold on to anger where she was concerned. She simply wouldn’t allow him to be angry with her for something that wasn’t her fault. “I’m bored,” he admitted.

  “Want to play some more poker?” she asked.

  He groaned. “I’m not that bored. Besides, you hurt my male ego yesterday by soundly tromping me.”

  “I know something we can do,” she ventured.

  “What?” he asked, knowing she didn’t have on her mind what he did.

  “We could play truth or dare.”

  Tony frowned. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a game we used to play at slumber parties and get-togethers when I was in high school. One person chooses to either tell the truth to a question asked, or do something on a dare.”

  “Sounds stupid,” he retorted, feeling himself growing more irritable with every passing moment.

  “What’s the matter, Pandolinni? Scared of a silly schoolgirl game?” Her eyes sparkled brightly.

  “Fine, I’ll play,” he replied, smiling jauntily in answer to her challenge. “So, how do we start?”

  “I’ll start. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” he answered, wondering what exactly he was getting himself into.

  Her blue eyes gazed at him directly. “Who was the first girl you ever kissed?”

  “That’s easy,” Tony said with a laugh. “Her name was Linda Cooper and she was an older woman. She was in sixth grade, and I was in fourth, and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I was invited to a birthday party where she was also a guest and somehow we started playing spin the bottle.” His eyes were a warm gray as he tilted his head to one side, a grin lifting his lips. “It was my turn, and I prayed and prayed for that bottle to spin to Linda and when it did, I thought I would die from happiness. I le
aned over and kissed her, and she wiped her mouth and said ‘Yuck!’” He laughed at the memory. “Needless to say, my infatuation with Linda died a harsh and brutal death.” He eyed her with a wicked smile. “Now, your turn. Truth or dare.”

  “Truth.”

  “Who was the first man you made love with?”

  Her face colored to a blossom pink. “Bill. Oh, I know it’s dreadfully old-fashioned, but I was a virgin on my wedding night. Vinnie drummed it into me. ‘Why would a man buy a cow if he’s getting the milk for free?’ he used to tell me over and over again, and to me it made a crazy kind of sense. Of course, I’m not so provincial now.” Another blush swept over her face.

  “Hmm, so you’ve had lots of lovers since Bill?”

  “Not fair. One question at a time,” she said with a teasing smile. “My turn again. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Why have you never married?”

  Tony folded his hands on the tabletop, gazing at them thoughtfully. “I decided a long time ago that marriage wasn’t for me. The Pandolinni men really don’t make good husband material.” He looked back up at her. “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Why did you and your ex-husband divorce?”

  She smiled. “Bill wanted a very different woman than what I was. He wanted somebody who would be happy sitting at home waiting for his return. He wanted somebody to sit on the bench at his baseball games and ooh and ahh about his skill. I’m not a bench-sitter, never will be. To me, marriage is a partnership…a give and take. Bill didn’t want to give. He only wanted to take.” She pushed a strand of her shining blond hair behind her shoulder. “Bill will eventually be all right. He’ll find the kind of woman he needs in his life and he’ll move on. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Will you marry again?”

  “Not fair,” she reminded him. “That’s two questions. It’s my turn. Truth or dare?”