In a few minutes, he was in the waiting room and took a seat. He glanced at his phone to see if Blanche had replied. Nothing yet. What if she didn't get it? He stood and went to the desk and stood behind an elderly woman waiting to be taken care of, then he stepped up.
“Did you sign in?” The middle-aged woman looked over her glasses at him.
He glanced down at the clipboard on the desk. “No, I'm not here to be seen. I'm just here to pick up a…a friend. She's a nurse here.”
“And?”
“I was just wondering if there's a way to let her know I'm waiting in here. I tried to send her a text but I'm not sure if she got it.”
The lady sniffed. “Is she expecting you to pick her up?” She sounded suspicious, as if she thought CJ was some kind of stalker.
“Yeah. I had to park in the garage, and I didn't want her to have to walk out there looking for my car. In the dark. Alone.”
Her manner changed and she smiled. “Well then. Who is the lucky nurse?”
CJ grinned. “Blanche Harlow.”
“Oh, that means you're CJ?”
“You know about me?” He felt a warm glow.
“Honey, everyone knows who you are.” She winked at him. “I see you live up to your reputation.”
“My, uh, my reputation?” Now he was confused.
She gestured to his face, focusing on his bruises. “Your propensity for accidents. In other words, you're accident prone. You're awfully young to be a frequent flyer.”
So much for the warm glow. He had an idea what 'frequent flyer' meant and the term wasn't exactly flattering. “Yeah, well, I'm not really a frequent flyer nor accident prone.” He motioned behind her. “If you could just tell Blanche I'm out here, that would be great.”
With a smile and a wink, she picked up the phone and relayed his message to someone inside the ER. Someone entered the waiting room, and he stood aside as they signed in. While they did, the receptionist pointed to the row of chairs. “Have a seat. She's probably going to be a little while.”
He nodded and did as she asked.
Twenty minutes later, Blanche finally found him dozing in his chair and woke him by leaning over to brush a kiss on his cheek. “CJ?”
As they walked to his car, he said, “I think the lady at the desk was mocking me. What all have you told them?”
She chuckled. “CJ, I didn't say anything. You just have a reputation, but don't worry, mostly it's good. Especially since the terrorist thing. I think half the other ladies who work there are crushing on you, and the guys wish they had done what you did. You're a hero.”
At first he was flattered, but then he thought about it after he opened her door and circled the car to the driver's side, got in, but didn't start the car right away. “What I did wasn't heroic. I killed a man.”
“But you didn't have a choice, and you saved who knows how many people.”
He tilted his head, giving it a little shake. “No. The others would have made sure nobody else was hurt. I just was the one in the right place at the right time to do what I did.”
“It doesn't matter anyway, CJ. My point is, don't worry. They aren't really laughing at you, although they do wonder why you keep landing back in the ER.”
“Well, it's not going to happen again for a long time.”
She leaned over and kissed him, on the lips this time. He smiled against her lips and returned the kiss. The scent of her skin was an odd mixture of some kind of floral scent, and the antiseptic smell from the hospital. Especially her hand when it came up to cup his cheek. He pulled her closer, his fingers grazing her jaw before he buried them in the hair at the nape of her neck. They were both breathing hard when she pulled away and glanced around the parking garage.
“What's wrong?” He started to reach for her again, but she pulled back and buckled her seatbelt. “Did I do something wrong?” He was pretty sure she had initiated the kiss.
“No, I’m just not into fooling around in the car at my place of employment. It could get highly awkward if hospital security comes through and knocks on the window.”
“Yeah. I guess it would.” CJ shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. He had a bottle of water sitting in the cup holder and he unscrewed the top and guzzled, thinking it wouldn't be a bad idea to accidentally douse himself with the cold liquid. With a groan, he set the water down and shoved the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking space. “So, how was your day?”
She shrugged. “It was fine, but how about you? Feeling better today?”
CJ nodded. “Yeah. I slept in. Then we picked up my car from the impound. But I've been doing a lot of thinking.” Should he let her in on his plan to bring down Hamilton? Would she support him? More importantly, would she be at risk? After what Hamilton had done to him, he didn't trust the man to leave innocents out of it. The guy was a psychopath. CJ was convinced of that.
“Thinking? Care to share?”
He glanced over, her concern clearly stamped on her expression as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So, here's what I'm thinking. I want to figure out what Hamilton is up to. I want to expose his operation—whatever it is.”
“His operation?”
“Yeah. He has to have something going on to do what he's doing. It's definitely not on the up and up. A suspect can be questioned at length, but there’s a limit.”
She didn't say anything and he realized she probably had no idea. He wouldn't really have had much of a clue either if it hadn't been for being questioned after the events during the summer. “Anyway, it seemed odd that nobody else was around, and then when my dad and Jessie found the other guy who had been held the same way I was, it made me wonder what was going on.”
“Mendez?”
“Yeah, That guy. Hamilton has to be worried about something. There has to be some kind of connection. I also wonder if there are more people out there. More victims. If I can find them, and figure out a connection, I can take down Hamilton.” CJ pulled in front of Blanche's apartment building and sat for a moment, still lost in thought. “There has to a reason he's risking so much.”
“Shouldn't the police deal with it? I mean, there was that one guy, Harris and the other cop, Cooper. Won't they be reporting what happened?”
CJ thought about it. “Maybe, but there's no record of me being there. None. Do you think they're going to risk their career for me? Nobody believed Mendez when he went to Harris. Sure, they might believe him now, but there's no evidence of what he said happened, actually happened. I at least have photographs of,” he circled a finger around his face, “this mess. That's a start, but not enough. Besides, who do I report it to? We never did file a report yesterday. Remember? My dad made a deal with Hamilton.” That part rankled, but he understood. If only he had kept his cool, but maybe they should have filed a report anyway. He could have claimed he was delirious with low blood sugar or something. Out of his head. It might have been a good defense. “Anyway, I don't trust them to dig deep to find their own shit. They'd probably rather it stayed buried.”
“You're right. I don't trust them either. They never did find my attacker. It was just dumb luck that you recognized him at the hospital the day the terrorist was brought in. Otherwise, he'd still be out there and still raping and killing women.” She shuddered, her expression distant and he knew she was probably reliving her near miss with death.
He reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was sorry all this had rekindled the memory.
She covered his hand with her other one. “Hey, I know it's late, but would you like to come in? Maybe watch a movie?”
CJ nodded. “Yeah. I'll send my dad a text. After what happened, I don't want him freaking out when I'm not home right away.”
* * *
CJ held the screen door open as Blanche unlocked the front door. He glanced around as she searched for the right key on her keyring. He looked up, frowning at the dark light fixture. She turned and followed his gaze. “I usually l
eave it on, but it burnt out a few weeks ago. The landlord hasn't changed it yet, and I don't have a ladder so I can’t reach it.”
“You shouldn't have to change it. That's his job.” CJ gauged the height and thought with a stepladder, he might be able to reach it. “I just don't like the idea of you having to come home late at night to a dark stoop.” He waved towards the hedges flanking the stoop. “Someone could be hiding in there and you'd never even see him.”
“Now you're scaring me.” She laughed as she said it, but it was nervous laughter and he wished he'd never mentioned the scenario.
“Sorry. I was just thinking I could probably change it. Do you have a bulb? I can stand on a chair.”
“I might have one.” She found the key and slid it into the lock. As soon as they entered, she turned to the hall closet. “I have to see if I have any bulbs on the top shelf in here.” She stretched on tiptoe, jumping a couple of times, apparently trying to see what was on the shelf.
CJ smiled and nudged her aside. “Let me look.” His height allowed him to find the bulbs. He pulled one out and handed it to her then he retrieved a chair from the kitchen and set it on the stoop.
It only took a few minutes, and the bulb was changed. CJ hopped off the chair and brushed his hands on his jean before leaning over to kiss the tip of Blanche's nose as she smiled up at the bright light. “There. All changed.”
“Thank you.”
He grabbed the chair and returned it to the kitchen, swiping his footprints off the seat. She offered him a beer, and he was pleased to see it was his favorite brand. Had she noticed and stocked it or was it her favorite, too? He carried it into the living room as he twisted off the cap. She joined him on the sofa, a glass of wine in hand.
“So, what do you want to watch? I have a few DVDs, or we could see what's on a movie channel.”
CJ glanced at the DVDs shelved on a bookcase along the wall. He didn't care what they watched. He'd watch a test pattern if it meant he could sit beside her to watch it. “How about that one?”
She squinted at the one he pointed to, then giggled. “Really?”
He hadn't really been able to read the tiny print of the title on the edge of the DVD case. “Why? What's wrong with that one?”
“It's a documentary about the evolution of man. It follows the DNA evidence of their migration.”
He grinned. “Oh. Sounds fascinating, but why don't we save that one for another night? I don't think I can stand the excitement tonight.” He leaned over. He hadn't heard of a lot of the titles. “Just pick one out. I don't care.”
She got up, ran a finger along the edges, then plucked one out and popped it into the DVD player.
“What is it?”
She just smiled and turned off the light on the end table. “You'll see.”
He was worried it might be a chick flick, but laughed when the movie started with a loud ticking of a clock. Then many clocks. Back to the Future. “Nice. This is one of my favorite movies. How'd you know?”
“I didn't, but every guy I've ever known loves this movie. Besides, you and Marty have something in common.” She snuggled beside him and took a sip of her wine.
“What?” He draped an arm over her shoulders, and bending it up to run his fingers through her hair, drawing it away from her face. She made a soft sound in her throat, almost like cat purring.
Her eyes danced as she looked at him over the rim of her glass. “You both change the future, and when you think about it, he has a future photo too. Sort of.” She tipped the glass, draining it.
“That must be good wine. Do you want more?”
“It was just a crazy day at work, so I think I'll have one more. Anything more than that, and I'll wake up feeling hungover.” She pulled away to stand, but he put a hand on her leg.
“I'll get it.” He stood. “Is it in the fridge?”
She nodded.
He was back, her glass holding a generous serving. She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“No! I just want you to relax.” He sat down, leaning more into the corner of the sofa, and pulling her back to lean against the side of his chest. He was still a little tender there but he didn't care. It wouldn't stop him from enjoying the feel of her against him. He took a swig of his beer, then set it on the end table. As she relaxed against him and they watched the movie, he eased his hand to her shoulder, massaging it lightly. Her body melted against his and she sipped her wine.
After several minutes, he shifted, bending until his lips brushed the bare patch of skin where her neck met her shoulder. He didn't know what kind of scent she was wearing, if it was her shampoo, or if it was just her, but it was intoxicating. He didn't need a beer to get drunk. He inhaled deeply. Nope. She was all he needed. She shivered, and he moved her hair away from her neck and feathered kisses up, reaching her ear.
She sighed, the hand with the wine glass going lax. He reached and took the glass from her so she didn't spill it, and set the glass beside his beer. He slid from beneath her as he did so, and knelt on the floor beside the sofa, sliding his arm beneath her neck and lifting it to raise her head as he lowered his own. Their lips met. The fruity taste of wine mingled with her scent and he deepened the kiss. Her hand went around his neck, her fingers tickling the nape of his neck, sending a delicious chill down his spine. He gave a soft growl and trailed kisses across her cheek. Her tongue found his ear and he couldn't suppress a groan. She was killing him.
As he worked his way down her neck, her hand found the buttons on his shirt and he felt it loosen as first one button, then the next popped free. He lifted his head to return to her mouth, as her hand swept, soft and warm, across his chest.
He found the hem of her top and put his hand on her abdomen. He didn't move it at first, waiting to see if she objected, but she freed the rest of his buttons from their holes and pushed his shirt from his shoulders, then she rose, moving onto her knees, taking his face in her hands as she kissed him. His cuffs were still buttoned and he struggled to free his hands so he could do some exploring of his own. Before he could, she dragged her mouth in a hot trail down his neck to his chest. Almost frantic now, he tugged at his sleeves.
Blanche stopped half-way down to his belly button and retraced the path back up to his mouth. He returned the kiss, then pulled back. “I need some help.”
A slow smile curved her mouth as she took in his predicament. Her eyebrow cocked as a wicked gleam lit her eyes. “Do you? I don't know…I'm kind of liking the situation.” She skimmed her finger down his chest, and he responded with a sound that was part groan and part laughter.
“You're an evil, evil girl.” He finally got one hand free, then too impatient to unbutton the remaining cuff, just grabbed his shirt and yanked it from his arm. The sound of the button pinging off the wall only caused him a brief hesitation before he wrapped his arms around her and did his own brand of tormenting.
* * *
CJ awoke with a start, bolting upright. A cry of surprise came from his left and he slumped back down on the pillow when he realized it was Blanche lying beside him. He'd been dreaming he was still locked in the room and Tom was just about to pull the trigger of his stun gun, but in the dream, it had been even bigger and more deadly looking. Scrubbing his eyes, he tried to rid his mind of the image. He snuggled back down in the covers, glad that Blanche hadn't fully awakened when he'd shot awake. He lay on his side and slid his hand beneath her neck, the other arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close. She nuzzled his neck and he smoothed her hair down, running his fingers through it. It was too dark to see the color, but last night, with the lights on, it had seemed on fire. He brushed his lips over her forehead, and wondered what time it was. He should probably get going home. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he dozed off.
He woke again and Blanche rolled to the other side of the bed. Scooting behind her, he spooned, loving the feel of her in his arms. He wondered if last night's trick of light kisses along her neck woul
d work again, and set about finding out.
Thirty minutes later, he lay panting and Blanche was in the bathroom. He fished around on the floor, finding his jeans, and pulled out his cellphone. It was almost six a.m. He should get going. Reluctantly, he swung his legs off the bed and stood. He pulled on his boxers and jeans, but had to go out to the living room to retrieve his shirt. As he buttoned it, Blanche padded down the hallway, wearing a robe now. It was thick and warm, and she looked adorable. He crossed to her and took her face between his hands. “Last night was the most amazing night of my life.” Even as he said it, it sounded so lame. It didn't even begin to touch what he felt inside. Deciding words were inadequate, he lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a long, lingering kiss, then pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.
“CJ?” Blanche's voice was muffled against him, and he loosened his hold, afraid he'd scared her with his intensity. Tilting her head, she reached up, her hands going to the nape of his neck. She applied slight downward pressure, and he smiled and kissed her again. When she broke the kiss, she draped her hands around the back of his neck, her eyes searching his face. “Last night and this morning were just as special for me.” She smiled, her eyes sparking with energy. “I feel like I have all this energy surging through me, like I just can't keep still and I want to go run around like a lunatic. Does that sound crazy?”
He chuckled and rested his forehead against hers. “No, but then again, since I feel the same way, maybe we're both a little insane.”
Capture: A Crime Thriller (CJ Sheridan Thrillers Book 2) Page 18
