by Byrne, Wendy
“Which points right back to cops being involved in this up to their eyeballs.” He stopped for a second. “Wait a minute, where was Stu when Mack got shot?”
“That’s the thing, I didn’t see him.” She shrugged. “I guess they could have killed him too, but then there’d be some kind of mention of it in the paper I would think.”
“Did you ever see him come into the bar before?”
“No.” It felt like a million years ago, but it had been less than a week. “I assumed you knew him.”
He shook his head. “Nope. What did he look like?”
“Tall, dark hair, kind of good-looking, but had a cocky way about him.”
“Not much to go on. It might be a dead end.” He blew out a breath. She could tell he was trying to formulate some kind of viable explanation for all of this.
It sucked almost getting killed when she didn’t have a clue as to why. Which brought up another thing that had been nagging at her.
She had waited all this time to tell him about her theory, but now she was nervous that he’d think she was delusional. “This might sound crazy, but what if Carissa was hit by that car because they thought it was me. She was wearing my Florida Gators raincoat. She was making what is usually my lunch dash to the diner.”
He put his hand on his knee. “I didn’t know she was wearing your coat.”
“I didn’t realize it was significant until I started to think about it more and more.” She sucked in a breath. “I’ve had a whole lot of time to work out all kinds of crazy theories in my head.”
“Why would somebody come after you? I guess I could see why they might be after you now, but that was before.”
“It all started when I went with you to court. Everything began to unravel from then on.” When he nodded, she continued. “What I didn’t tell you is that one night I saw Mack out back. I’m not sure what he was doing, but it must have been something important since he kept a close eye on me afterwards. That’s the same day I found the note and the blood. But how does it tie together with what happened at court?” All the details that had been swimming around her head spilled out at once.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Hello…I didn’t exactly have a chance with you being beat up and all. Besides, I didn’t realize it might be connected until I had a minute or two to think.” She hesitated. “Wait a minute. Before those guys killed Mack, they said something about being mad he hadn’t scared me away. When they left, they were going to find me. That means it has to connect with something going on or about to go on at the Blues Stop.” She was getting a headache from all the twists and turns. “If, on the other hand, it does have to do with Vince’s case, shouldn’t he be warned? Shouldn’t we at least call him and see if he can help somehow?”
“My cell is toast. Can you search the Internet with yours?” When she shook her head, he continued, “Okay, we’ll have to call him.”
Walking over to the dresser where she kept her cell plugged in, she picked it up and handed it to him. “And before you ask, I did call my mother, but acted like everything was okay. The last thing I need to do is worry her, especially when she can’t do anything about it.” And it had taken extreme willpower on her part to not venture a call or two for help. If Enrique was in town, there’s no way she would have resisted calling him.
“You didn’t tell her where you were, did you?”
She shook her head, letting his paranoid thought slither along her spine. “She didn’t ask. But she’s going on vacation with my aunt to Charleston.”
“That’s good. If the police try to contact her, she won’t be around. At least for a while.” He nodded, dialed Vince’s office number, but stopped before he pushed the send button. “They’d know my voice. Pretend you’re a client. Gretchen Wells. And make it short in case they’re tracing calls to his office.”
The phone was picked up after three rings. “Perry and McCabe Law Offices. Laura Walsh speaking.”
She took the phone from Shane. “Hi Laura, this is Gretchen Wells. Is Vince in?”
The girl sniffled on the other end of the line. “I thought you knew. It’s been in all the papers.”
“Knew what?”
“Why, Mr. Perry was in a horrible accident. They’re not sure he’s going to make it.” Laura stopped speaking for a few moments. “He’s at Northwestern Hospital. The intensive care unit. Hold on a sec, let me see who’s been assigned to your case.”
Her fear ratcheted to astronomical levels. Her hands were shaking when she hit disconnect and closed up the phone.
“What happened?” Shane was on his feet, as unsteady as they were at the moment.
“Vince Perry’s been in an accident. They’re not sure he’s going to make it.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“What the hell is going on?” Shane still couldn’t think straight. Tying in everything and everybody seemed like a monumental task, and his brain was still fuzzy.
“Let’s start at the beginning. Work through what we know. What we don’t. Tell me about you and Patrick and Daniel. I need to know it all.”
“It’s old news. And it doesn’t matter anyway.” Couldn’t she take his word for it? Why did she continue to believe there was some good in Patrick?
“You keep saying they’re dirty, but you’re not giving me anything concrete. If they’re somehow involved, I need to know everything. I’m tired of being in the dark with all your innuendos and half-stories,” she huffed. “All I know is your stepfather knew enough about what was going on to warn you off.”
“Or intimidate me.” When she rolled her eyes, he resisted a smile. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t let this go. The weird part was there was a part of him itching to tell her. “It’s a long story.” Shane stretched out on the bed with a pillow propped behind him and admired the view. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, the woman was a knock-out.
“I have nothing but time.” She walked over, sitting down cross-legged on the other side.
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re like a rabid dog? Once you get a piece of flesh you won’t let go.”
“But I’m a really good listener.”
“You babble non-stop. How could you be a good listener?”
“I only babble when I’m nervous. Otherwise, I’m a pretty level-headed person.”
“Gabriella, can’t you take the hint? I don’t want to talk about my past.” It seemed that no matter what he said, she wasn’t going to back down.
“Why? The past is always part of who we are. It’s inextricably linked with our future. It shapes everything we do. Everything we say. The way we interpret what happens to us.” She giggled. “Oops. Maybe I’ve been watching a little too much Dr. Phil. But it is true, you know.”
He wanted to resist, but her coy half smile and welcoming expression were drawing him in. “My past sucks. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But—”
“But, nothing. I told you I don’t want to go there and I don’t,” he snarled, and hoped she’d back down.
“I don’t know why I saved your sorry ass. You’re so obnoxious. We can’t have a civil conversation without you getting all huffy and close-mouthed.”
“Maybe, unlike you, I don’t like divulging all the family secrets.”
“You remind me of my sister-in-law Sammie. That’s my brother Enrique’s wife. She had this crazy notion she wasn’t good enough. Is that your problem?”
“I’m glad you’ve spent so much time analyzing others, but you’re not going there with me.” His jaw tightened as he resisted what she was offering.
“You would think the fact that I saved your life would make you loosen up enough to tell me.”
“I don’t loosen,” he grumbled. Why couldn’t she take no for an answer for once?
“So I’ve noticed.”
“Cute. Very cute.”
“So, Mr. I-don’t-want-to-talk tough guy, where do we go from here? Fairly soon half the country will be
looking for us, and I don’t relish the idea of going to jail for either harboring a fugitive or being an accomplice. I think you owe me an explanation. Let’s start with something simple.” She placed her finger to her lips. “Did that scar have something to do with your family?”
“Not really.” Glancing down, he traced the path with his fingers. Part of him wanted to tell her; a stronger part had a hard time admitting to the weakness that would let him.
“That had to hurt.” She reached over and followed the path with her fingertip.
Her touch wasn’t born of sex, but compassion. The skin on his torso quivered at the level of concentration she employed examining the scarred flesh. Suddenly, what hung between them felt more intimate than he’d ever bargained for.
“You have no idea,” he whispered and scanned her face for telltale signs of trust.
“I’m sure I don’t.” She smiled and looked right into his eyes. “Take that from a woman who needs Novocain to get her teeth cleaned. Anything more than a paper cut and I practically need hospitalization.”
He shook his head. “This didn’t come from surgery in a hospital. My guts were hanging outside my body and there wasn’t a lot of time for anything but damage control. The scar is ugly, but battlefield treatment saved my life. I had one hell of an infection afterward, but mega-doses of penicillin at an army hospital, along with a cute nurse, brought me back to health.” He opted for the short version of his tale.
It was clear from the way she looked at him that she knew he’d left a whole lot out. But she didn’t call him on it. “I’m glad to hear your near death experience was worthwhile. If you have some hot nurse giving you a sponge bath, hoohyah.”
He laughed, “Hoohyah is marine speak.”
“Sorry, getting my forces mixed up here. But at least I was on the right track.”
For some reason, he felt relaxed and at peace for the first time in a very long while. “If it weren’t for Garrett I wouldn’t have made it.”
“Where is Garrett? I know you two are close, and pardon me for saying this, but it seems like really bad timing he’s nowhere to be found.”
“He’s in Vietnam with his adoptive parents, the Ryans, trying to find his Vietnamese birth mother. She gave Garrett to his adoptive parents while they were there with the Peace Corps. He was one or so. Just handed him over and said, ‘Take care of my son’ and left. They brought him home and adopted him. They’re wonderful people, but Garrett has always had this drive to find his biological mother.”
“Why now?”
Shane shrugged. He knew exactly what she was thinking, but had no intention of going there. “He and his adoptive parents have been talking about it for a long time. When Garrett turned thirty-five, they decided it was time. He’d done some investigation on this end and it had all started to fall into place.”
“Well, his timing kinda sucks.” She rubbed his hand. “You’ve known Garrett for a long time?”
“Since I was a kid. His family was like a home away from home for me growing up.”
“How so?”
“My stepdad is and always was a prick. He was especially bad when my mother wasn’t around. I’d go to the Ryans’ if I knew my mom had to work or would be gone for a while and I’d be alone with him.”
“Did Daniel ever hit you?”
Shane hated Daniel a whole lot more maybe because he hadn’t. At least then he’d have had bruises to prove the hurt. “That would have left marks. He was way too smart for that. Instead, he picked at me like I was a worthless piece of crap.”
“Why does he blame you for what happened to your mother?”
He’d known she’d weasel her way into asking that question. “I figured you’d sweet talk your way into hearing the story.”
“Tell me. I really want to know.”
After sucking in a deep breath, he hesitated. Nobody knew what led to the tragedy that day except for Garrett and his family. “Let me put on a shirt first. I’m freezing.” He went into the bathroom and put on a sweatshirt. Somehow telling her felt right. “I finally nailed my stepfather. I knew he was cheating on my mother, but he was good at not getting caught. Garrett and I were kicking around downtown Chicago. It was Senior Ditch Day and we’d played hooky from school. And there he was….” Involuntarily his jaw went tight as he fought through the memory. “The cocky son of a bitch had his hands all over some blonde and was walking into a hotel. Garrett and I followed him inside and saw him register at the front desk. Then we snuck up on the elevator and waited outside the room.”
“How did you know the room number?”
“Even back then, we were good at getting the information we needed. I distracted the hotel clerk, and Garrett pulled the last entry from the computer.”
“So you just waited until he came out of the room?”
“Not really. We listened at the door and heard enough to guess what was going on. Then we grabbed a pass key from a maid’s cart and went in.”
“Oh, my God, you didn’t?”
“Oh, yeah. He was naked and so was she.” He shook his head. “I just wished I had a camera. Thinking back, we were probably both lucky he didn’t shoot at us.”
“What happened next?”
“I went home and told my mother. I was sure she’d leave him, but she didn’t.” He shook his head. To this day, he didn’t understand fully what happened after that. “I hadn’t counted on the fact she loved him. All I’d accomplished was to upset her. She had a car accident and was killed instantly.”
Courtesy of his stepfather, he’d never felt worthy, and dredging up the tale forced those old feelings to surface. But Gabriella didn’t look at him as if he were pond scum. She seemed genuinely concerned. He just couldn’t figure out why.
* * *
Even though Gabriella had suspected what was coming, it still made her suck in her breath. She saw pinpricks of tears at the edges of his lashes and all she could think about was holding him tight. While she’d needed to get him to talk about what had happened that day, she felt bad dredging up the memories.
“Her death wasn’t your fault.” She uttered the words with conviction and hoped he would believe them himself.
“Logically I know that, but when you’re seventeen and the blame gets thrust squarely on your shoulders because of your actions, it doesn’t go away. I kept thinking about the ‘what ifs’. What if we hadn’t seen him that afternoon? What if I’d kept my mouth shut? What if the hotel clerk hadn’t been so accommodating when I flirted with her? What if that maid’s cart with the keys hadn’t been in the hall? The ‘what ifs’ have ruled my thoughts for the last seventeen years.”
“What if your stepfather wasn’t unfaithful? None of that would have ever happened.”
“I should have let it go.” He shook his head.
“He was deceiving your mother, whom you loved and cared about. Don’t you think it’s pretty normal for you to want to protect her?”
“I sure screwed that part up, didn’t I?”
“If you ask me, that was your stepfather’s doing, not yours.” She ran her hand down his forearm. His skin felt warmer than normal. “He wants to blame anybody but himself instead of taking responsibility for what he did. I’d lay odds it wasn’t the first time he cheated, just the first time he got caught.”
Shane shook his head but his voice was subdued, as if he weren’t too sure about what he was about to say. “He’s such a prick.” She couldn’t help thinking it was the seventeen-year-old Shane who spoke those words.
Seeing the brooding look in his eyes, she knew she needed to get his mind onto other things. “I would have loved to meet your mother. Tell me about her.”
Shane smiled, his lashes still sprinkled with unshed tears. “She was tiny, a little over five feet, but brimming with life. She was the kind of person everyone gravitated to because somehow being around her made you feel good.”
“Do you have a picture of her?”
He straightened up in bed, reached into his
back pocket, and pulled out a photo stuffed into one of the compartments of his wallet. “This was taken on her birthday, about a month before she died.”
His hands were a little shaky when he handed her the photo. She didn’t know if it was from emotion or because he was still weak.
A less-filled-out and younger version of Shane stood with his arm around a petite dark-haired woman. Both were smiling as if they’d just shared a joke. It was definitely a more relaxed and a less-in-charge and definitely less-sad version of Shane.
“Your eyes. That’s where I see the resemblance the most.” She fingered the photo, touching the dog-eared edges. “The same caring look is in the eyes of both of you.”
“Nobody has ever used the word caring and me in the same sentence.”
“How about all those kids you help out? The ones you teach martial arts at the school, the ones you send to the diner so they can have a good meal, the ones you try to get jobs for when you find them lost and living at the shelter?”
“But that’s just… ”
“If your mom were around, she would be so proud of the man you’ve become.” She shimmied along the bed on her knees until she got even with his chest and drew him into a hug.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The body contact felt so good, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Maybe the fact that she didn’t feel so alone contributed to her near euphoria. Shane wasn’t physically up to par, not even close. But at least she wasn’t trying to negotiate their way through a maze of threats by herself. Left to her own devices much longer, she couldn’t begin to imagine what might happen.
Gabriella soaked in the comfort of his body against hers, his arms circling her back protectively. And for those few seconds, she allowed her mind to stop working, allowed all her problems to momentarily dissipate into thin air because if she focused on all that lay ahead, she would dissolve into tears.
Shane’s skin still felt too warm, and it was making her nervous. But, for now, she’d concentrate on how far they’d come and the sliver of momentary peace that went along with it.
