by JB Lynn
“It’s almost all been good,” he confided in a mock-whisper.
Confused, I asked, “I’m sorry. How do you know Alice and Lamont?”
He turned toward Susan and raised his eyebrows.
She placed a possessive hand on his elbow. “Margaret, I’d like you to meet Bob.”
“Bob?” I asked, still confused.
“Bob Waites,” he said.
“My date,” Susan supplied.
I looked from her, to the man standing beside her, and back to her. “Your date?” I squeaked.
“Did you think she was a cloistered nun?” God asked from my handbag.
I ignored him. “Your date?” I asked again like an imbecile.
Susan nodded.
“We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year,” Bob said, wrapping his beefy arm around my slim aunt’s shoulders and squeezing.
For a moment, I was too shocked to speak. Aunt Loretta was the serial dater/marry-er in the family. I’d never known Aunt Susan to even go out for coffee with someone and now I was finding out she’d been seeing this guy for almost a year. “He’s your boyfriend?” I squeaked.
She sniffed her disdain. “No adult over the age of twenty-five should ever refer to their romantic relationships as ‘boyfriends’ or ‘girlfriends.’ It sounds ridiculous.”
“But,” I spluttered. “How? How could you?”
“I told her it wasn’t fair of her to just spring me on everyone like this,” Bob said kindly. “She should have at least told you of my existence before dragging me to these shindigs.”
I looked up at him. “I apologize. I’ve been rude. It’s just . . .”
“It’s just that no one in this family keeps secrets from one another,” Susan said.
“Ha!” God shouted. “If you only knew!”
I gave the bag a shake to keep him quiet.
“Sensitive skin,” he grumbled quietly.
“Susan’s told me all you’ve done for your niece. Quite impressive,” Bob said.
I nodded dumbly, still trying to wrap my head around the idea my uptight, straitlaced aunt had been secretly dating someone.
“My sister owns a real estate company. She’s always looking to hire people with drive and initiative.” He held out a business card. “You should give her a call if you’re ever looking for a job.”
I took the card. “Thanks.”
“Bob’s in construction,” Susan said. “He’s one of the contractors I’d contacted about converting the barn. He’s going to start working on it on Monday.”
“But I don’t know—” I began.
“You’ll be able to tell your lawyer about it.” Susan reached out and patted my arm. “It’ll help you win custody.”
“But I’m tapped out,” I said. “I can’t afford . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” Susan said. “Bob’s doing the job for us for cost.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Waites, but—”
“Call me Bob,” he interrupted.
“That’s very kind of you, Bob, but—”
“It’s been taken care of, Margaret.” Aunt Susan’s tone warned that I should stop arguing.
I opened my mouth, saw the determined glint in her eye, and said weakly, “Okay.”
“Mind if I steal Maggie for a moment?” Zeke swept into the conversation, grabbed me around my waist, and propelled me away.
I went willingly.
“Are you okay?” he asked, leaning close, so that his breath tickled my ear.
“That’s her date!”
“Yeah. I met him earlier. Nice enough guy. Solid.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as he steered me across the room.
“The guests are almost all gone.”
Glancing around the room, I realized he was right. The place was practically deserted.
“Say your good-byes to the happy couple,” he said, “and then I’m taking you home.”
I stumbled a bit, the heat in his last couple of words arrowing straight to my belly. I peeked up at him and saw the same warmth shimmering in his blue gaze. He smiled, a slow, lazy grin filled with sensual promise.
“Are you two leaving?” Alice asked, interrupting the moment.
“Unless you need us for something,” Zeke responded smoothly, as though he hadn’t been flirting with me the moment before.
“No. Of course not. You’ve done so much.” Alice moved to hug him, which meant he had to let go of me.
I swayed a bit, acutely aware of the loss.
“Both of you.” Alice turned to hug me. “I love the necklace, Maggie. It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I hugged her tightly.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Promise.”
I turned to walk away. Zeke was nowhere to be seen.
He’d done it again. Just taken off without so much as a good-bye. I hated how much that stung. Determined not to cry, I stalked out of the restaurant and marched, well, more like teetered, across the parking lot. I hated those shoes.
“Maggie! Maggie, wait up!”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Zeke hurrying after me.
I tried to speed up, but the heels wouldn’t let me.
Zeke fell into step beside me. “I had them pack up your dinner.” He held a paper bag up in front of me.
I snatched it from him. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you home,” he offered.
“I can manage on my own.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“You disappeared again.”
“You missed dinner. I figured you’d be hungry.”
Getting to the car, we were greeted by DeeDee barking, “Gotta! Gotta!”
“Hi, DeeDee.” Zeke’s greeting was warmly affectionate.
I wasn’t happy that it took some of the edge off the mad-on I was nursing.
“Gotta! Gotta!”
“Let her out before she makes a mess,” God urged from my purse.
Zeke eyed the bag curiously.
I was in no mood to explain the high-pitched squeaks coming from the clutch.
“I did tell you it would be a long wait,” I muttered, yanking open the door. I barely managed to grab her leash before she went bounding for the nearest patch of grass. Her momentum plus my heels had me pirouetting like a deranged ballerina.
Fortunately, Zeke was there to catch me. Wordlessly he righted me, took the leash, and went off with the dog.
I sank into the driver’s seat, glad to get off my feet.
“Let me out of this thing,” God demanded.
“You’re the one who insisted on coming along.” I put the purse on the front passenger seat and popped it open.
Clambering out, he climbed up and settled himself on the dashboard. “What’s in the bag? It smells vile.”
Actually it smelled mouthwateringly good. I opened the foil container and spotted mashed potatoes, baby vegetables, and prime rib. I popped a carrot into my mouth. Even cold it tasted good.
I watched Zeke and DeeDee in the rearview mirror. He was playing with the dog, who was eating it up.
“So your best friend is a violent bitch, your—” God began.
“She is not. She’s freaked out about the wedding is all.”
“She slapped you.”
“It’s no big deal. We worked it out.”
“It’s no big deal?”
Tearing my gaze away from man and dog, I glared at the lizard. “I’m done talking about this.”
He shrank back against the windshield. “What would you rather talk about? How your aunt is getting more than you?”
I opened my mouth to protest the crude comment, but I realized he was probably right.
“Or maybe you’d like to talk about how you’re perfectly willing to stick your tongue down Mr. ’Roid Rage’s throat.”
“I’m not! I made a mistake with Paul. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment.”
“Which would have been a wors
e mistake if I hadn’t stopped you.”
I hung my head. “Yes. You were right.”
“And I was right that you shouldn’t kiss the redhead,” he said, pushing his advantage.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? He’s married. He’s a hired killer. He’s a cop. Which of those reasons isn’t good enough to keep you from getting involved with him?”
I shrugged, beaten.
“Which is why you should do the deed with this Zeke fellow.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“From what you and Doomsday said, he saved your lives last night. He’s been supportive tonight, and there’s no denying that you’re attracted to him.”
I closed my eyes. Was I really taking love life advice from a lizard?
“Meat! Meat!” DeeDee bounded up to the car. I’d left my door open and she stared hopefully at the bag.
I pulled out the prime rib with two fingers and threw the entire thing to her. She gobbled it up greedily.
“That was supposed to be your dinner,” Zeke chastised gently.
“She was starving.”
“So am I.” He bent and captured my lips with his.
Allowing my head to loll back against the headrest, I let him work his magic with his mouth.
“Chemistry,” God observed.
Startled by the squeak, Zeke jerked away, banging his head on the car’s ceiling. “What the hell was that?”
I pointed to the lizard on the dash. “Say hello to God.”
Zeke eyed me strangely. “You call your lizard God?”
“His real name is Godzilla, God for short. He’s actually Katie’s pet, not mine.”
“Oh. I understand.”
I doubted he did. “I’m taking the animals home.”
“I’ll follow you.” He let DeeDee into the backseat and closed her door.
“I—”
“Don’t blow this!” God ordered.
“I’d like that,” I said, surprising everyone.
Zeke smiled and closed my door.
I smiled the whole way home. Something was finally going right.
Until we got to the parking lot of my apartment complex.
“You can’t let him inside!” God suddenly blurted out.
“Well I’m not going to ‘do the deed’ in a car like some horny teenager.”
“But the Garcia plans, the waitress outfit, everything is in the apartment,” God warned.
He had a point.
“Well, what am I supposed to tell him?” I glanced in my rearview mirror. Sure enough, Zeke was still following me.
“You changed your mind?”
“You do know that if I get caught tomorrow, this could be my last chance to have sex with a man for a very long time, don’t you?”
“There are always prison guards . . .” God suggested.
“I bet none of them look like Zeke.”
“Speaking of the Garcia thing, did you ever find out why Zeke was there? At the rehearsal dinner for Garcia’s daughter?”
The warm sense of euphoria that had enveloped me since our last kiss started to fade away. “No,” I admitted grudgingly.
“And you don’t find it odd that he was there of all places? At the same time as you?”
“I find it odd that you told me to do the deed with him and now you’re trying to convince me not to.”
“Oxygen deprivation.”
I rolled my eyes, put the car into park, and prepared to turn down what could have been the best night of my life.
“Zeke,” I said, as he walked toward me.
“Delivered you home, safe and sound,” he said with a smile.
It really wasn’t fair how handsome he was. It made me want to throw caution to the wind. “I—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pecked me on the cheek, spun around, walked away, and got back into his car.
Shocked, I watched him go.
As he pulled away I muttered, “At least he said good-bye this time.”
I put out my hand and God scampered up my arm to perch on my shoulder.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
I shrugged. “It’s probably for the best.”
Grabbing DeeDee’s leash, I let her lead the way to the apartment.
She stopped a couple of yards away, almost tripping me.
“Bad! Bad!” she growled.
“What’s bad?” I asked, trying to nudge her forward.
“Bad.”
I shoved her with my knee, moving forward enough to see what it was she thought was bad.
She wasn’t wrong. It was very bad.
Chapter Twenty-Six
GASPING, I STUMBLED backward, suddenly glad that all I’d eaten all night was a baby carrot.
“What is it?” God asked, scrambling around to my other shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of what had frightened us.
“Back to the car.” Turning, I hurried away.
I didn’t have to tug on the leash, DeeDee sprinted past me.
“What is it?” God asked, fear threading through his tone.
“Rats!” I exclaimed.
“Now what’s wrong?” he asked as I opened the rear door of my car.
DeeDee leapt in. I closed it behind her.
“No,” I told the lizard. “It’s rats. Dead rats.”
“Uggghhh.” For a creature who considered himself to be a sterling conversationalist, you’d have thought he’d come up with something better than a groan of disgust.
“Don’t you dare hurl on my shoulder.” Unlocking the trunk of my car, I started rummaging through it.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m finding this.” I turned on a flashlight. “I’ve got trash bags and I can use the bags I use for Doomsday’s poop as gloves . . .”
“DeeDee,” he corrected distractedly. “Use them for what?”
“I’ve got to get rid of the rats. Someone covered the front door with them.”
“You’re going to . . . touch them?”
I felt his tiny body quiver. An answering shiver ran through me. My stomach roiled traitorously. “What else am I supposed to do? Leave them there?”
“I don’t know. Call someone?”
“Who? The police? All I need is for them to start wondering what the hell is going on with me.”
“Your door is covered with rats,” he said with horrified awe. “Who would do that?”
“I dunno. Neighborhood kids?”
“Kids egg doors. They don’t hang dead rats.”
I closed the trunk. “Maybe Abilene?”
“Maybe Mr. ’Roid Rage?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Someone with a grudge. Someone who hates you. Someone who’s trying to warn you off.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “You’re making me feel much better.”
“This is scary. How can you not be afraid?”
I swallowed hard. I was doing my best not to freak out. “I am scared,” I said slowly. “But if my run-ins with Cifelli and Gary the Gun taught me anything, it’s that nothing is ever solved by giving in to fear.”
“You could hide. Hiding’s good.”
“Do you want to wait in the car while I clean up the mess?”
When he didn’t answer, I opened the front passenger door to let him inside.
“I didn’t say yes,” he protested.
“I know, but—”
“I’m not going to send you to deal with those things alone.”
“They’re dead. They can’t hurt me.”
“Bad,” DeeDee opined from the backseat.
“We’ll all go,” God decided.
DeeDee whined softly. “Bad.”
“You can stay here,” I assured her.
“Go DeeDee.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Go DeeDee.”
The three of us went to remove the four dead rats. They’d been hung by their tails with duct tape, in a diamond pattern. DeeDee held the flashlight in h
er mouth, God sat between her ears telling her how to direct the beam, and I yanked each stiff, smelly body from the door. Bile rose in my throat with each rip I made. By the time I was done, I was barely together enough to carry the bag to the Dumpster and heave it in.
My hand shook terribly as I unlocked my door. I was terrified by what horrible scene might await me inside, but nothing looked disturbed. The dog and lizard searched the place for intruders as I waited in the doorway.
“Clear!” God shouted as they searched each room. “Clear! Clear!”
“You’ve been watching too many police procedurals,” I muttered, but I was grateful that they were checking the place out.
Satisfied that it was just the three of us, I hurried to the gun Patrick had left for me, and loaded it with shaking hands. Ushering the animals into my bedroom, I shoved my dresser in front of the window, wedged my night table against the door, dragged my pillows and comforter off the bed, and settled into a corner of the floor.
“Are you okay?” God’s concern was evident.
“You said hiding is good. I’m hiding.”
“Good hiding.” DeeDee lay down beside me, resting her head on my lap.
I stroked the spot between her ears and finally relaxed. We all drifted off to sleep.
Until the phone rang.
I jumped so high that I bounced her head off my lap. Her chin hit the floor with a solid thunk.
“Sorry.” I scrambled for my phone and stared at the unfamiliar number.
“Maybe whoever left the rats wants to know if you’re home,” God whispered worriedly. “Who else would call after midnight?”
I pushed the answer button, but didn’t say anything. I held my breath and listened to someone breathing.
“Mags?”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you calling at this hour? You scared the hell out of me!” I shouted at Patrick.
I got silence as a reply.
“Patrick? Patrick, are you there?” I whispered, afraid he’d hung up.
“What’s happened?” His concern acted as a balm for my frazzled nerves.
I told him about Paul’s creepy traffic stop, Katie’s improvement and scare, my altercation with Abilene, all the crap with Alice, and the rats. I left out the part about Zeke.
At the end, realizing I’d babbled for a good fifteen minutes straight, I said, “But that’s probably not why you called.”
“I called to see how you were doing and to wish you good luck tomorrow.” He sounded tired.
