December Frost (A Southern Romance Monthly)

by CJ Hockenberry

  "You got that right. See you in a few." She hung up and set the phone on the middle console. A glance over at Thomas alarmed her. He was slumped over against the door, his eyes closed. Damn. She didn't dare go faster, not in this weather. She just hoped Lex could help him when they got there.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Thomas sort of remembered getting out of the Hummer. But he was shaky and weak. Cecelia was beside him again and he leaned into her. She was warm in the cold and he realized he wasn't wearing his coat anymore. Where was his coat?

  There were more faces and voices, and then a male voice. He was guided to a metal table and recognized it. "That's a morgue table."

  "Yeah. I know. Lay down." Cecelia grabbed his arm pulled him to it.

  "Mr. Carr," the male voice said again as he laid down. His vision blurred but he looked up into a male version of Cecelia. It was really…disconcerting. But it was there. The resemblance was unmistakeable. "I'm Dr. Lex Inzmann, Cecelia's brother. I'm going to have a look at your wound, but I'm going to give you a small sedative, okay?"

  He nodded and closed his eyes. He had no idea how long he'd been sort of dozing before he opened his eyes again because he was cold. He shivered and realized he was shirtless.

  "Oh good grief you two." It was another female voice. This one belonged to a mass of brown hair that looked down at him. A pair of crystal green eyes smiled. "Hi Thomas. I'm Nana, Lex's girlfriend. I've got a blanket, okay?"

  He nodded up at her. "I think I died and went to heaven."

  Nana smiled and the male version of Cecelia showed up again. "Hey…that's my girl. Get your own."

  Thomas cleared his throat and half smiled. "I want your sister." Wow. What the hell? Who had control of his mouth?

  The doc arched an eyebrow. It looked so much like Cecelia. "Well Mr. Carr, I'm sure you'll have to take that up with her. Luckily she's not in the room right now."

  "Oh?" He started to push himself up on his elbows and waved Nana and Lex away when they tried to stop him. "I'm fine."

  "You're really not fine." Lex said as he put his hands on his hips. Sitting up like this, Thomas got a much better look at the doc and the resemblance was even more obvious. "Your stitches came lose in the back. Deb did an excellent job, but your ducking bullets undid all her work. I've restitched you, but you need to take it easy for at least twenty four hours."

  Thomas nodded. "Got it. So…where is Cecelia?"

  "Getting you some clothing and supplies for the cabin." Nana stepped up and offered him a steaming cup. "How do you like coffee?"

  Oh…sweet angel of mercy! He managed to sit all the way up, gather the blanket she'd placed on him, and take the coffee in both of his hands. "Black. Oh you are so awesome, Nana."

  "Thanks, Thomas. Is it okay if I call you that?"

  He sipped the hot liquid, but flavor was so strong it over rode his scalded taste buds. "Oh…you keep bringing me that and you can call me anything you want."

  "Thomas, when was the last time you ate?"

  He had to think about that. "Yesterday?"

  "Oh hell." Lex turned to Nana. "That Subway is still in the refrigerator from lunch. Would you get that for him? And some water?"

  She put her hand on her hips. "You didn't eat it?"

  Thomas had to snicker when Lex looked guilty. "Sorry babe, but I was busy."

  Nana huffed and left the morgue.

  The lights flickered. Lex looked up. "That is not a good sign." He looked at Thomas. "A few things you need to know. You need antibiotics. I have a friend bringing a prescription. Hopefully he'll get here before Cecelia gets back. The cabin you're going to has its own generator, so if the main grid goes down, you'll be able to keep warm. There's also a stone fireplace that'll keep you warm as well, and a week's worth of firewood behind the house. There's canned goods there and Cecelia's getting perishables and clothing from my house. There is also a .38 in the safe, of which Cecelia knows about and there is a shot gun in the bedroom closet. The ammo is on the top shelf. If the asshole comes after you, blow his ass away. Got it?"

  Thomas couldn't help but grin at the man. "You got it Doc. But can I ask you a question about your sister?"

  "No you may not screw her," Lex said as he started cleaning up a roll away table.

  Thomas wasn't sure what to say. He lowered the cup. "That's… not what I was going to ask."

  "Doesn't matter. That's how I feel." He turned to Thomas. "Cecelia was hurt a few years ago. Betrayed. And the guy tried to kill her. She has a scar that'll never go away. You hurt her, or you push yourself on her in any way—"

  "I know. You'll kill me."

  "No." Lex smiled. "She will. Cecelia's more than capable of taking care of herself. You screw her, and you'll be back on my table in a different condition." He offered Thomas his hand.

  Thomas got off the table without spilling the coffee just as two sets of doors opened. Nana came through the left with a Subway bag and Cecelia came through the other with a duffle bag. Cecelia set the duffle on the table as Nana handed him the Subway.

  "Oh…that smells good." Cecelia took the bag from Thomas and fished the sandwich out. "Oh you heated it."

  "I did." Nana said and grabbed the bag back. "I did it for Thomas. Look at him. He hasn't eaten since yesterday!"

  Thomas took the bag back and looked at Cecelia. She looked embarrassed. "Oh I didn't even think about food. You were in the lock up all night."

  He took the sandwich out. "Wanna split it?"

  "Sure. And then I'll make you a real clam and linguine dinner tonight in the cabin."

  Lex groaned. "She learned it from Nana."

  The front buzzed and Lex moved to the intercom by the door to his office. "Inzmann."

  "Hey doc. It's Pearson. I got your order."

  Lex buzzed the front door.

  Cecelia put her hand on her gun tucked behind her. "Lex, what if someone is with Richard?"

  He pointed to the tiny display screen mounted to the wall in the corner. "I can see the whole building. It's fine."

  The door opened and Thomas met Richard Pearson, the local Pharmacist. That surprised him. The guy looked like he was twenty.

  "Twenty four," the young man said a he opened the bag in his hand. He was medium height, with brown hair and brown eyes. He was dressed warmly, in a thick jacket, jeans and boots. He wore a small stud in his left ear. "Now, this bottle is the antibiotic. Take it with food at breakfast and then again with dinner. And the small bottle has painkillers. It's just a generic brand, low dose. Lex said you shouldn't be unconscious."

  Thomas took the bag and looked inside. "Oh you're right. I shouldn't. How much do I owe you." He reached into his back pocket—where was his wallet?

  "Oh no. The doc's got it." Richard waved at everyone. "Nice to see you again, Cecelia. By Lex, Nana. Might wanna get home. The stuff's really coming down out there." He left.

  "Nice kid." Thomas eyed the sandwich. "Anyone got a knife?"

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It'd been years since Cecelia had been to Lex and Veronda's cabin. Since her death, Lex hadn't used it much and offered it to Cecelia on several occasions. She wasn't sure if her brother had taken Nana there yet.

  Cecelia visits were always in the summer, in the daylight and with no snow. Driving in these conditions was a whole new experience.

  And she took her brother's truck and left the Hummer in Lex's garage. The Hummer was too conspicuous.

  It wasn't very late when she left Lex's office, but the overcast sky and the continuously falling snow made it look dark outside. Snow blanketed the trees, the sides of the streets, the roof tops of houses—the whole area of Roswell looked like a winter wonderland.

  She took the service roads to 75 North. It wasn't really the smartest route to go, especially if they broke down or the roads iced over, but she wanted to avoid traffic as much as possible. Or…from what the local stations were reporting, traffic jams.

  "You handle a truck pretty well."

  Cece
lia glanced to her right at Thomas. He looked better, but he was still pale. The circles under his eyes looked darker. He needed sleep—deep, interrupted, healing sleep. They both needed food. The sandwich hadn't been enough, and it sort of felt lodged in her chest. She swallowed it whole. "I grew up in the south. Everyone owns a truck."

  "And a Hummer?"

  "Not much different, in my opinion." Though, that'd been the first time she'd driven one of them. "Where are you from?" She stopped at a four-way and turned right. Two more miles and they would hit the interstate. She silently prayed it was a straight shot to Red Top with no freaked out drivers.

  Or, drivers trying to paint a target on their backs, especially Thomas's.

  "I was born in Tallahassee, Florida. I have two brothers I haven't seen in several years. My father worked at grocery stores all his life, finally landing a managerial position when I left for the service. My mom's been a secretary as long as she's been alive."

  "Are your parents still alive?"

  "Yes. They're retired. My mom's mom passed away a year ago. I got a card in the mail, six months after the service. I'd been in Budapest, chasing the Phantom."

  "Service…you were in what branch?"

  "I went into the army—but I was recruited out to do…" he shrugged. "Other things. So I spent five years in Government work—"

  "Is this were the thief part comes in?"

  Thomas didn't answer right away and Cecelia wondered if she'd stepped on a land mine. Finally he said, "Yes. I didn't know if that was still classified. I don't suppose telling you is problem. We're on the same team."

  "You stole things for the US government."

  He laughed. "Don't sound so surprised, detective. The government has many questionable programs running. The one I belonged too is still there. I retired out after having a slight—shift of conscience. Once that happens, and it happens more often than not, I was given an honorable discharge, signed my life's secrets away, and struck out on my own. I traveled for a while and met with a guy who went by the name Professor."

  "Odd."

  "I found out he once belonged to the same group I had, but now ran a small business for who ever could afford it to steal back priceless things that were stolen from them."

  The exit came into view and Cecelia took a look over the edge. No traffic. Not one car. Sweet! She took the ramp and once she hit the pavement, gunned the motor north. "Sounds fishy."

  "Not so much fishy as squirrely." Thomas shifted in his seat. "There are a lot of stolen items out there. Some of them are priceless, and some are only priceless to the former owner. But, they want them back just as bad as the owners of the priceless stuff."

  "So…you're like Superman or Batman? You right the wrongs and find them?"

  He held out his left hand and wiggled it. "Eh…so-so? I mean, I took a few of expensive finds. They were easy. It's alway easy to catch a thief if you used to think like one. And you put my brains together with the Professor's and it didn't take much. And they paid a lot of money."

  "That's how you bought your mom's house." Cecelia glanced in the rear view mirror. She saw a single pair of headlights some distance behind them, and in the far right lane.

  He touched his nose. "While I was working, this other thief started making a name for himself. And a few of the items I returned were stolen by him. After I found the third item and returned it to its owner, he left me a message in my hotel."

  "Seriously?" She glanced at the rear view mirror again. The headlights were gone.

  "Yeah. Freaked me the hell out. That's when I started calling him Phantom 'cause that's how he signed the message. I flew back home and had state of the art security systems installed in every one of my houses. Then I called a friend of mine in the FBI and gave him a complete report on this guy and he told me about interpol's search for him as well."

  "So…" she frowned. "Were you at the High working for the Professor?"

  "Yes and no. My FBI contact had already told me they had intel that the Phantom was going to try and steal something out of the High, but they weren't sure what. There wasn't any kind of major show going on there during the time frame given. Then the Professor called—well his daughter Blair called—and told me the Professor'd been contacted about this particular statue at the High that a client wanted him to steal it back."

  "Steal back?"

  "That little girl with the dog? La petite fille de fleur. I found out it was created by a French artist named Ribeaux. His mother was African American, his father French. Ribeaux made six statues in his life, all of them of a little girl in a different pose. The collection disappeared after his death in 1974, reportedly stolen from the family home, or so it was reported for insurance purposes. Suddenly the one with the dog and flowers shows up for auction five years ago and someone in Atlanta bought it and then donated it to the High."

  "And you think the one who put up for auction had it stolen from the original thief."

  "Or, from whom ever hired the thief to steal it. Or the person that bought it from the thief. And my hunch is that the thief who originally stole the single piece is the Phantom, and the one who holds the rest of the collection wants it back."

  The headlights showed up again, much closer this time. Was the driver turning them off and on? And why would they do that in a snow storm? "Well…yeah. But why would the Phantom come and steal it again?"

  Thomas shook his head. "I haven't puzzled that much out yet. I'm still trying to figure out how the Phantom knows so much about me to the point of setting me up in the High. And why?"

  "And you called the Professor?"

  "Yeah. He never called me back. I need to call my friend at the FBI as well. His name's Frank Clark."

  She laughed. "Frank Clark? What kind of name is that?"

  "Yeah I thought that was funny. But he's been a good friend and he's always been able to help me before."

  The lights behind them were closer.

  "Why do you keep looking in the mirror?"

  "Because there's a car behind us that's come out of nowhere and the lights keep disappearing and reappearing."

  Thomas looked out the back window which was inches from his face. "I see it. You think they're following us?"

  "I dunno. The exit's three up. I'm going to take the next exit instead and then see if they exit too."

  "And if they don't, and they are following us, then they'll see you come back on the ramp."

  "No…I know the back way to the cabin. It's not actually in Red Top. That's a state park. It's a mile outside and I can get there." She didn't signal for the exit nor did she speed. Cecelia eased the truck to the right and took the ramp up to the stop light, which to her delight, was still working.

  Thomas kept an eye on the lights. "They kept going."

  "Might be nothing. Might just be me being paranoid."

  "It's not being paranoid if someone's really after you." Thomas turned back around and made a hissing sound.

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah…I'm going to need to take one of that little guy's pills soon."

  "Not till after dinner. There's a jacuzzi on the back deck and I grabbed a bottle of wine out of Lex's fridge."

  Thomas arched a brow at her. "You going to join me in the jacuzzi?"

  Cecelia didn't answer as she turned right down the lone road toward the cabin.

  She was still trying to make up her mind.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The cabin was a bit more than Thomas would have called a cabin. For one thing, when they drove up, he thought for a second he was delirious and had just jumped into a post card. The thing was huge with a wrap-around porch, lattice work base, and a screened in porch in the back. Not only was it complete with a stone chimney on the right side, a separate two car garage sat a few yards away.

  "You're not like…rich or something, are you?" He leaned into the windshield to look at the cabin through the falling snow.

  "Not rich." Cecelia reached under her seat and grabbed her gun. "S
tay here."

  "You don't—"

  She put her finger on his lips. Thomas felt the touch in all the right places at just the wrong time. He also had to fight his urge to take that finger into his mouth, as well as pull her to him. Their current situation hadn't escaped him. He was about to spend the night, if not more pending the weather, in a cabin in the woods, with the most beautiful and intelligent woman he'd ever met.

  Cecelia removed her finger, got out of the truck and carefully ascended the five steps to the porch. Thomas watched as she pressed a panel to the right of the door, put a key in the knob, then went inside. The only sound was his breathing. Snow was silent—that's what made it so scary sometimes.

  Lights came on from the inside, then the porch light, then floodlights.

  Thomas released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and opened the passenger door as Cecelia bounded out of the house and came around to help him out. "I'm not hurt that bad."

  "You haven't see you in the mirror, Mr. Carr." She once again pushed her shoulder under his un-injured shoulder and helped him to the door. He had no idea why he was so shaky or weak feeling. The idea of soaking in a hot jacuzzi was a great idea—but was he going to be able to even get in without falling on his face?

  The stairs weren't iced over so going up them was easy. The interior was as impressive as the exterior. The main room was open, with a full kitchen, breakfast bar, stools and oak table for six to the left. On the right was a two sofa living room with an oak coffee table and large, stone fireplace. Down the center was a hallway with several doors.

  She walked him to the sofas and helped him sit down on the one facing the front of the cabin. "There…I'll go get the supplies."

  "Mind if I start a fire?"

  Cecelia arched her brow. "Can you?"

  "I can."

  Once she left he stood and grabbed the matches on the wooden hearth. To the right was a stack of wood, a smaller stack of kindling, and a stack of old newspapers. Lex knew how to do a fire right.