by Lee Kilraine
“But you know what I remember just as much?”
“What?”
“I remember going with Greer to your graduation three years before ours. Nobody was there for you the way you were there for Greer. Hell, your dad didn’t even show up. Greer said you didn’t get to go to the big party afterward,” he said.
“Oh, please. Don’t cry for me, Argentina. It was a long time ago,” Delaney said. “It’s just the way life was for us. Me and Greer—”
“You and Greer against the world?” Quinn asked as he picked up one of her hands and traced the veins until she was sure she could feel her blood pump in slow motion. “Greer had you. Who’d you have?”
“Quinn, what is with you? It’s no big deal.” She pulled her hand from his before he felt it shaking. What gave him the right to butt into her life? “So back off.”
“I’m home!” Greer called, breezing in through the screen door off the kitchen.
Delaney raised an eyebrow at Quinn. “You’re free to go. I believe my other babysitter just arrived.”
“Oh, hey, Quinn.” Greer opened her eyes wide at Quinn’s presence, blinking in surprise like bad acting in a community theater. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Did you need to borrow something?”
“Ha. Good try, but you should have synced your story with your partner in crime earlier, since he already confessed to his assignment.” Delaney looked archly between both Greer and Quinn.
“Yeah, let’s work on getting the rest of our stories straight. We can discuss it while Delaney goes to soak in the tub. She’s gimpy.”
“What?” Both Delaney and Greer looked sharply at Quinn. When his expression didn’t reveal anything, Delaney looked over at Greer, who only shrugged. Greer might not have liked the idea of keeping Delaney’s amputation a secret, but she wouldn’t have told anyone knowing how painful the gossip had been growing up.
Quinn gestured to her bad leg. “Your limp is much worse than it was this morning in the gym, so I know you’re sore.”
“Yeah, I know I overdid it, but I was trying to avoid Barbie.” Delaney looked pointedly at Quinn.
“Hey, I did not know about running interference until Greer called me an hour ago.” Quinn sat back down at the table and picked up his cake. He pointed his fork at Delaney. “I’m your man. From now on—”
“Let me guess. You’ve got my back.”
“Hey, cake.” Greer sat down at the table and pulled the cake box closer. “Who’s Awa?”
“I thought you got the cake to fatten me up,” Delaney said.
“Nope, not me. Who’s Awa?” Greer asked again as she cut a big slice.
“Wait a minute. . . .” Quinn put down his plate of cake as he pried Greer’s hand from the piece she was about to plop in her mouth. He leaned over to look at the cake. “Go Awa . . . Go Away. This cake said ‘Go Away’?”
“Yeah. Not funny, Greer,” Delaney said, making a face at her. Greer sniffed her disdain. “Delaney, would I have mixed gold lettering with yellow flowers? That’s just tacky.”
“There is that. Plus, I guess if you were going to surprise me with a cake from Aunt Marie’s Bakery you would have gotten my favorite,” Delaney conceded.
“Oooh, the caramel devil’s food. I haven’t had that in ages.”
“Let’s order one tomorrow.”
“They have this great key lime cake now with—”
A shrill whistle split the air. Greer and Delaney turned to see a frustrated Quinn scowling with his hands on his hips. “A cake that says ‘Go Away’ just magically appears in your kitchen.”
“We don’t believe in the cake fairy.” Delaney shook her head. “Not anymore.”
“Yeah, your point?” Greer looked at Quinn.
“Was the door locked?” Quinn looked back and forth between them.
“Oh. Yeah, it was,” Delaney said.
“Anyone else have a key?”
Greer shook her head. “No.”
Quinn looked at both sisters with raised eyebrows.
“Oh,” they both said, looking at each other.
Quinn’s gaze speared Delaney. “Who doesn’t want you here, Delaney?”
Chapter Six
“Me? How do you know it’s not Greer?” She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin out, challenging the accusation in Quinn’s eyes.
“I’ve known Greer since kindergarten, and she has never been able to piss people off the way you have in the last forty-eight hours.”
“I wasn’t always like this. You’re saying that in the two days I’ve been here I’ve pissed off so many people that you, Super Cop, can’t figure out who it is because the list is too long?”
“Yeah, you’re a regular Clint Eastwood, aren’t you?” Quinn stepped toward her, wearing his serious cop face.
“Only the men wanted him out of town. The women wanted him to stay—preferably in bed with them,” Greer added, glancing back and forth between Delaney and Quinn.
Quinn took a step toward Delaney. “That might be her problem, too.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Delaney stood up from her chair and took a step toward Quinn. She wasn’t about to let him pin this on her.
“Let’s just say, in the one hour I saw you today, you sure pissed Barbie off. It felt like high school all over again.”
“Oh, come on. That is unfair. She’s hated my guts since middle school. Name one thing I did to her in high school.” Delaney stood toe to toe with Quinn.
“You outscored her on tests and with boys.”
“On purpose,” Delaney specified, not even sparing Greer a glance.
Quinn’s lips slid into a slow grin. “You kissed me.”
“What?” Delaney took a jerky step backward, shocked that Quinn would go there. The back seat of his car, his arms wrapped like protective armor around her, had been a sanctuary.
“She did?” Greer asked.
“Hell yes, she did. Right outside of the boys’ locker room. Don’t tell me you don’t remember?”
“Outside the boys’ locker room? Oh, that kiss. That was you? I don’t remember . . . much,” Delaney said, trying for nonchalant. Not easy when her hands still shook. She moved back to the table, where she started to stack the cake dishes.
Quinn shook his head. “You’re breaking my heart, Delaney. That kiss changed my life.”
“What are you talking about? I certainly didn’t do it to make Barbara mad.”
“She was standing right there. Everyone knew she had a thing for me.”
“Why would I try to make Barbara mad? The only reason I did it was because I’d just seen my ex-boyfriend kiss Linda Faye after lunch. Then I saw him picking on you and your friend during gym class. I was pissed at him and you were in the way.” She couldn’t believe Quinn was acting as if that kiss had mattered. Because she sure as heck remembered another kiss that didn’t seem to matter to him at all.
“Is that why? I’ll be sure to get in your way again. Regularly. I scored major points with the seniors on the football team when you grabbed my ass. On behalf of all freshmen boys everywhere, I thank you.” Quinn gave her a mock salute.
“I did not grab your ass.” Delaney’s denial was automatic. So what if what he described was starting to tickle a distant memory? She was in the middle of trying to prove a point.
“Oh, whoa, that was you two in front of the gym?” Greer chimed in. “I saw that. You definitely grabbed his ass and he grabbed right back.”
“My mama didn’t raise no dummy.” Quinn’s slow, lopsided dimple-flashing grin slid her way.
Delaney wanted to shove the rest of the cake in his face. She took in a steadying breath. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. “You know what? I am going to go soak in the tub.” She turned and limped out of the room and up the stairs, doubly pissed because the limp wouldn’t let her exit with a haughty stomp as the occasion deserved. Grrr.
Neither Greer nor Quinn said a thing as they listened to her uneven footsteps recede and
a door slam upstairs. The minute it was quiet, Greer plopped her head onto the table, wrapped her arms around her head, and started crying.
“Greer, what the hell? Is something wrong with Jack?” Quinn knew her boyfriend, Jack, a cop like him, was out of town for special tactics training, but he would have heard at the station if something had happened.
“Noooo,” Greer wailed, lifting her head and looking up at him in sheer misery. “I . . . I heard you two talking. I was afraid Delaney was going to be mad at me after you told me about her run-in with Barbara; I had promised her someone at the gym would run interference. I sat on the porch swing to listen at the window, you know, to see if she was mad enough that I should leave until she’d calmed down. And . . . I can’t believe how much I took for granted. How did I not think about Delaney and how lonely she must have been?” She started crying all over again. Quinn lifted her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin on top of her head as it rested on his chest.
“You did the right thing bringing Delaney home.”
Greer sniffed. “I escaped to your house half the time. I didn’t appreciate how lucky I was to have your family. I wish Delaney could have had that too. She needed a Mama Cates, you know?”
“Hell, Ma would have loved it. She always had room in the house for one more.”
“That’s not a bad idea. Why don’t we let Ma have at her now?” Greer jumped up, wiping the tears from her face. “Lord, she’ll smother her with love. Perfect. Let’s go talk to her.”
“Wait, Greer. I have to tell you something.” Quinn grabbed her hand, steering her down into the chair next to him. “I kissed your sister.”
“You did what?” She stared at him, eyebrows raised.
“I don’t normally kiss and tell, but since I plan on doing it again, I thought I should ask you . . .” The kiss had helped Quinn decide that ignoring what was between them wasn’t working. So why not let the attraction play out until it was done once and for all?
“I’m surprised you lived to talk about it,” Greer said. “But, ask me? So, if I have a problem with it—”
“Okay. Fine. I’m telling you I’m going to make a move on your sister. Is this going to be a problem for you?” Quinn crossed his arms and waited for her answer.
“Heck, no. But, I don’t want to see you floundering again when she shoots you down.” She shook her head. “That was ugly.”
“I did not ‘flounder.’ I might have been bucked out of the saddle, but I got up and moved on,” he said, pointing a finger at her.
“Rode other horses? So to speak.” Greer looked like she was having too much fun at his expense.
Fine. He could take it. “We’re going with a cowboy analogy here? Right. It’s looking like I might just be a one-horse cowboy, and I’m gonna try one more time to saddle this wild horse.”
“Well, giddy up. Just remember Delaney’s in a bad place right now.” She got up from the table, taking the stack of cake dishes to the sink.
“Believe me, I know.”
“But, Quinn, it’s more than you know. She was—”
“Greer, I’ve worked lots of car crashes. Cops handle trauma. It’s our job. They make us take classes and everything. I’ve got this. And now that we’re about to put Mama Cates on the case . . .”
“Have I told you how much I hate it when you use your ‘cop voice’ on me? I know it works magic calming down old ladies who’ve lost their cats, but it only pisses me off.” Greer’s gaze raked over him. “Okay, cowboy. Call your mom. I’ll let Delaney know we’re heading out.”
Maybe he had a way of coming in and taking over, but over the years he’d found confidence and calmness in the face of calamity created trust. People trusted him and let him help carry their burdens. That helped him be a better cop and friend. Heck, hadn’t Greer asked him to get Delaney home because she’d had no doubt he would?
He might have messed up this time though. He got the sense Greer had been about to tell him something important, but then he’d opened his mouth and Officer Cates had “soothed” her. Fine. Maybe it was the cop in him. Or habit from years of avoiding talking about Delaney. When you’re fighting a fire, you cut off what feeds it.
“Speaking of calling, your phone’s dead. Any chance you didn’t pay your bill or your cable’s out?”
Greer shook her head. “I paid my bill and I don’t have cable.”
“Damn.” Quinn pulled his cell phone from his back pocket.
“No. No ‘damn.’ We don’t have time for ‘damn.’ We’ve got to go talk with your mom.”
“I’m going to check your phone line out back, then call this in. It’s possible whoever dropped off the cake cut the phone lines. We’re making time for ‘damn.’ ‘Damn’ just moved to the top of our list. We need to find out who’s trying to scare Delaney into leaving town.”
Chapter Seven
The physical therapy table would have been a great place to nap—if it weren’t for the physical therapist from hell pulling, bending, and banging on her body as if this session was make or break. Greer had been working on her for thirty minutes now, but no matter how much it hurt, Delaney was determined not to complain. She’d worried Greer enough. For the next few weeks she’d be all “Yes, Greer” and “Whatever you say, Greer” until the worried frown was off her face.
“Do you know if Quinn has any information on yesterday’s message cake?”
“No, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Of course, she hadn’t answered her phone when he called. She’d let it go right to voice mail like all her other phone calls. Huh, that sucker was probably full by now. Oh well, the best way to deal with each new stress was to not deal with any of it. She couldn’t afford to. Go Away. Whoever wanted her gone should save their energy because that was her plan, to go away just as soon as Greer stopped worrying.
“I heard he kissed you. How was—”
Delaney lifted her head to scowl at her sister, then lay back down on the table. “I’m not talking about that either.”
“Okay. Well, you’re lucky, that’s all I can say.” Greer finished manipulating her leg and moved over to the small freezer. She pulled out a cold pack and wrapped it in a towel before placing it on Delaney’s leg.
Delaney snorted. “Because Quinn kissed me?”
“No. I mean, yes, because Quinn’s a great guy, but I was talking about your leg.”
“Lucky, huh?” The cold seeped through all the aching layers of muscle, nerve, and bone. It polished down the sharp, stabbing edge of pain, leaving only a throbbing irritation. “I’ve been called ornery, cranky, contrary, intractable, mulish, and grumpy. Never lucky.”
“I stand corrected. You aren’t lucky. Thank God you are ornery, cranky, contrary, intractable, and mulish because that’s probably why your recovery was almost textbook—until you went AWOL.”
Textbook? Delaney peered up at Greer. “In retrospect, going AWOL from therapy was a bad choice. I’m sorry I worried you, but honestly, I just needed a . . . a vacation. From reality.”
“Uh-huh. Well, no more vacations for a while. You actually are lucky you didn’t lose much over the three weeks. Thank goodness you didn’t form contractures, because those are hell to fix.”
“Contractures?”
“When a body stays static too long, the muscles and tendons tighten and shorten, and then they impede movement.”
Static. That’s what her life felt like. Like she’d been stuck in the same place ever since the explosion. Treading water, barely staying afloat, but not moving toward the shore either. Totally adrift from the person she was before.
“And lucky because you had a great surgeon. You were already fit and strong from running, and your natural athletic ability has helped you adapt well to walking with your prosthesis. Thank goodness you didn’t lose your knee.”
Yes, Greer. Whatever you say, Greer.
“God, I’m rambling.” She scrubbed her hands over her face wearily, “I’m sorry. I was so worried about you,
you just don’t know.”
“I know. The whole kidnapping thing was a big clue.”
“I just needed to know you weren’t—”
“I’m not. Look, I’ll eat, and attend these PT sessions, and even work out at the gym, but I can’t stay here, Greer. There are too many bad memories for me here.
“When I walked into the library, I remembered Daddy yelling at Mrs. Johnson about my overdue library book. He had the poor woman in tears over my one-dollar fine. That was the last time I checked a book out.”
“That’s why you told me I could only read the books while we were there.”
“Everywhere I look, it’s like he’s a ghost clunking around town. The gas station where he accused Cooter of running up the bill, the movie theater when he tracked me down in the middle of a movie and pulled me home.” She needed to exorcise the man from her head, but failing that, getting far away from his memory would help. “Once you see I’m okay, I need to head back to D.C.”
“Let’s not think that far ahead, okay?” Greer’s hands fluttered before settling on the cold pack and towels to remove them from Delaney’s leg. She handed Delaney her prosthesis and sweatpants from the nearby chair, then cleaned up the TENS unit she’d used for pain therapy. “I think we should just take it one day at a time.”
What she had done to Greer was unfair. It was only right to ease her mind before escaping back to D.C. Yes, Greer. Whatever you say, Greer. Delaney nodded her head. “One day at a time. I can do that.”
“Sure you can. What are you going to do with the rest of the day?”
The rest of the day? The hell if she knew. Trying to make it through each day as it came was how she’d ended up alone in her apartment with only PBS and a bottle of cabernet to keep her company. When the stress, failures, pain, and nightmares became overwhelming, she withdrew. It was safer. She hadn’t been living the last few months, not really. It was more like existing defensively. Treading water beat sinking any day. “I’ll figure something out. Thanks for fitting me in before your first patient arrives.”
