That Was Yesterday

by Vella Munn

“There isn’t. What is, is. What are you doing here? In San Diego, I mean.”

  He was trying to change the subject. She let him. She explained that she’d chosen the city as the site for her business because she liked the climate, and her name had opened doors with the highway patrol, one of her most reliable clients. “The lifestyle agrees with me,” she finished. “What do you think of Southern California?”

  Reed hadn’t been around long enough to have formed much of an opinion, but he had sensed a laid-back quality, a more relaxed air than he’d seen in most of the cities his work had taken him to. “I have a place in Sacramento,” he told her. “The summers are awfully hot. People there take themselves so seriously. Maybe that’s because it’s the state capital.”

  “Why do you live there, then?”

  “It seemed as good a place as any.”

  That was no reason for putting down roots to Mara’s way of thinking. Or maybe the truth was, Reed, an army brat, still didn’t have any roots. Didn’t he want more of a sense of belonging?

  “I’ve thought about moving,” he was saying. “Only, I’m so seldom in one spot that it doesn’t seem to matter enough to move.”

  “It was like that for us while I was growing up,” Mara told him with her eyes on his strong hands, and her thoughts going no further than his words. She spoke without holding back. “Living out of suitcases. Half the time unable to remember which state, what country we were in. At least we had each other.”

  “And that made it right.”

  He touched her. Brushed his large, competent fingers over her knuckles. Mara didn’t remember him reaching for her; she didn’t remember being given time to prepare for the contact. Men and women touched. It was a natural evolution in relationships, nothing to instill fear in anyone.

  But Mara couldn’t stop the sudden stiffening of her body, the quick pulling free. She hated it; she just had no control over the instinct.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “No,” Mara muttered. If only she could go back a few seconds, experience that reaching out over again, prepare for it. “It isn’t anything you did. It’s just…” It was too late. What she’d done was done. “I’ll get over this. I just need a little more time.”

  “Is that all it’ll take? Mara, I don’t like the idea of you staying alone out there.”

  “You’d like it better if I turned tail and ran?”

  “That’s not it. There must be someone you can stay with. If Clint can’t—”

  “Don’t,” Mara warned. Reed’s hands rested on the table a safe distance away. She didn’t want them there. She wanted to feel his strength, his warmth. She needed to care and be cared for…just a little. But a little might become too much. “I’m the only one who can make these decisions.”

  “You’re going along with what I said about a gun.”

  “That’s different. Look, Reed, I appreciate your concern,” Mara said, because what she wanted was too new, too potentially dangerous, to admit. “I mean, if this had happened to someone else, I’d probably be putting in my own two-cents’ worth. But I didn’t ask for advice. I don’t want it.”

  “Want and need aren’t always the same thing, Mara.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Maybe nothing. Are you done?”

  Reed was right. They’d finished their meals, and since obviously neither of them was going to concede anything there was no longer any reason to continue the conversation. Still Mara wished he would say something, anything, as long as he didn’t bring up the way she’d withdrawn from him. The only thing she came up with was an inane comment about the meal. She’d have to tell Clint she approved of his recommendation.

  “The girl Clint likes, she wasn’t there tonight, was she?” Reed asked as he was backing out of the parking lot.

  “No. Why?”

  “I’d like to have seen her. Maybe I’ll get a chance to.”

  Mara shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  Be honest, a small voice encouraged. “You’ll only be around a few more days. You’ll be off doing whatever needs doing.”

  Reed took his eyes off the road and stared at her. “I don’t have a choice, Mara.”

  He didn’t want what they had to be over any more than she did. Mara couldn’t say how she felt about that. A little scared. Unnerved. Somehow more alive. “What do you mean, no choice?”

  “The most important man in my life is involved. I made him a promise.”

  “And solving this case, that’s what the promise is about?”

  “It’s a total commitment.” Reed turned down the volume on the stereo. “That’s the problem.”

  “Problem?”

  Once again Reed looked at her. When he spoke, his tone skated under and around the sounds of a softly played guitar. “I need to know how this comes out for you.”

  Was the air-conditioning working? Surely the sudden heat she felt came from too-warm air. “Maybe it’ll be in the paper.”

  “That’s not the version I’m interested in, Mara. I need to know if you’re safe.”

  Safe. He wanted that for her. “What happens if I want to know the same about you?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you understand?” Mara challenged. “You hired me, you’ve told me something about what you’re going to be doing. I’ve never encountered anything like this before. It’s…fascinating.” How had the conversation taken this turn? She was trying to wedge herself into Reed Steward’s life when it was none of her business. If he wanted to be kept apprised of the crime she was part of, she wouldn’t stop him. But beyond that… All he’d done was touch her. Nothing else. Simply a touch, which she’d brought to an immediate end. “Reed. What you’re doing is more than fascinating. The danger—it’s natural that I’d be interested. Worried. Didn’t that occur to you?”

  “No,” he told her. “It didn’t. Not until now.” As he thought about it, he realized that the idea was surprisingly comforting.

  Mara had a motel in mind, a new one a little over twenty minutes from her place. Despite her objections, after they’d gone back out to pick up her loaner car, Reed followed her into town. He waited while she paid for the room, and then walked with her to the second-story room. He stepped inside, looked into the bathroom and closet, checked the lock. “You’ll be all right,” he told her.

  “I know I will,” Mara said. She dropped her purse onto the floor. “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for the conversation.”

  Reed nodded. They were standing far enough apart that she didn’t have to concern herself with whether he might touch her. He told her to get a good night’s sleep and that he’d see her in the morning. Then he walked to the door and closed it behind him, and she was left with a restless and hungry wanting.

  What that hunger was for, she wouldn’t say.

  After a moment, Mara turned the lock. Her hand lingered on the knob, absorbing the bit of warmth Reed had left there. Then she flipped on the TV, but paid no attention to what was on. Maybe she’d run downstairs for a copy of the evening paper. Maybe she’d wash her hair and climb into bed and pore through the real estate section, daydreaming about having enough money for a multiwindowed home overlooking the ocean. Maybe she’d tune in the small radio next to the bed and let music consume her. She remembered the station she and Reed had listened to.

  The room smelled new. Lightly patterned, inexpensive drapes covered the window overlooking the parking lot. The peach bedspread picked up the colors in the still-life painting bolted to the wall.

  Mara had been in a thousand rooms like this one. Only, this time her family wasn’t here to share it with her.

  She’d left behind what she’d slowly, lovingly turned into a home and was spending a night in an overpriced motel room complete with next-to-useless bars of soap because someone, maybe, knew where she lived and had a set of keys that no longer worked. She’d left Lobo out there, alone.

  Reed Steward
was facing the possibility that his commitment to a man might put his own life in jeopardy.

  She was standing in a motel room she could scarcely afford because… Why?

  Mara knew the answer to that. She’d been taken out of her world, and the backlash from that experience was still controlling her.

  What was wrong about one night at a motel? Clint and Reed both approved of what she was doing. Neither had made fun of her or asked when she was going to face her demon.

  But being incapable of facing demons was why she had her own business instead of racing with the rest of the family.

  She hadn’t been proud of herself when she’d made her decision then. She felt the same way tonight, stuck in a room that reminded her of nights without end when there’d been no home base. When security had come from parents and brothers.

  These days security was her home, her business, proof that she had made it on her own.

  On her own. Not hiding out in a motel room.

  An hour later Mara sat inside her mobile home. She’d managed to convince the motel manager not to charge her for spending five minutes in his establishment. She hadn’t questioned her need to park as close as possible to her front door and to have Lobo standing beside her, before she pulled out her new house keys. She’d fumbled with the stiff, new lock and weathered a moment of panic when confronted by the darkened rooms. But the switches and lamps all worked and now Lobo was locked in the house with her.

  She wasn’t sure she’d tell anyone what she’d done. Maybe not. After all, she didn’t owe anyone an explanation, and she didn’t want to have to answer their questions.

  Especially not questions from Reed Steward.

  Chapter Six

  “There’s no one else here,” Reed said.

  There was no denying Reed’s logic. Mara had just gotten word that she could pick up her car but, because Clint and her secretary had both left with the students this afternoon, unless she took Reed up on his offer, she’d have to either pay an outrageous cab bill or ask a friend to take time out of his or her evening to drive her into town. “I just don’t feel right about dragging you into my problems.”

  “There’s no dragging involved. I offered. End of argument.”

  Reed, dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt that stretched over his shoulders, was sitting across from her in the living room, watching. His silent appraisal made Mara aware of her every move as she strapped on a pair of sandals. She should be so weary, after the wakeful hours spent listening to the sounds of her house, that she should be numb. But she wasn’t. Or if she had been, awareness of Reed Steward had taken her beyond that.

  Reed waited until she had both shoes on before he stood. Then he held out his hand to help her to her feet, a question in the way his gaze locked on hers. After a second, she placed her hand in his.

  Touching him felt right. Right and at the same time wrong. “You’re a stubborn man,” she told him. There were callouses on his palm. His roughness surprised her. A man who made his living with his intellect shouldn’t be so—so what? Physical?

  “So I’ve been told.” He squeezed her hand, then drew it close to his side until her knuckles slid over warm denim. She started, not as she had last night, but in reaction to the sudden electricity. Still, Mara didn’t draw away.

  “Why?” she managed.

  “Why am I stubborn? I don’t know. Does that bother you?”

  If he wasn’t a determined man, she wouldn’t now have her hand cradled in his. Wouldn’t be battling this thing without a name. “No,” she told him and smiled, hoping the gesture would create a protective covering over what she felt. He smiled back, but his eyes were hooded, exuding sensuality and challenge. Or maybe she was reading something in their dark lights when there was nothing.

  Mara drew her hand free and headed outside. She wasn’t going to look at him again. She certainly wasn’t going to let her thoughts of him go any further than they had.

  Except for being cleaner than she usually kept it, the Corvette didn’t look different. The young man at the impound yard explained that he didn’t often get to handle a hot car and had spent extra time cleaning and waxing it. “From what I heard, they didn’t get any usable prints off it,” he told Mara and Reed. “Bummer. At least he didn’t wreck it. I hope you don’t mind my waxing it. Maybe you use something special.”

  “Nothing special.” Mara rubbed the keys between her fingers, trying to warm them, make them hers again. He had touched them. It bothered her that Detective Kline hadn’t called to tell her about the unsuccessful search for prints.

  Reed walked around the car as the attendant pointed out the Corvette’s unblemished exterior and the leather upholstery. “What’s the fastest you’ve taken this?” he asked Mara.

  “A little over ninety. Not so fast, really.”

  Reed turned. “No. Not so fast.”

  It was time to get into the Corvette. Putting it off would solve nothing. Slowly Mara wrapped her fingers around the handle and opened the door. The interior hadn’t held on to the man’s smell. There were no indentations in the passenger’s seat to remind her of his presence. The words they’d both spoken were gone. No one would ever know. Still—

  Should she sell it?

  “I have a suggestion.” Reed stood close, much closer than Mara could handle objectively. “What if I follow you? We could grab something to take back to your place. There’s enough daylight left that we can eat and then get me back out on the track.”

  She should remind him that he’d bought dinner last night, but Reed had a point. Going to get the Corvette had gotten in the way of what he was paying her for. Besides, this way she wouldn’t have to drive home alone. Even if she didn’t trust her reactions around him, he would be there.

  Mara suggested a supermarket with a deli, and as Reed walked back to the Jag, she fastened her seat belt and started the Corvette. She nodded at the lot boy and watched Reed pull out behind her. Mara turned on the radio, hunting unsuccessfully for the station she and Reed had listened to. The chopped sounds from stations, located and discarded, filled the air.

  It took a little less than ten minutes to reach the supermarket. During that time, Mara concentrated on driving and making sure Reed was following. It was daylight. Traffic was all around. The air smelled, not of a lonely stretch of rock, but of exhaust fumes.

  “This isn’t where you were grabbed, is it?” Reed asked when they met in the grocery’s parking lot. He ran his fingers over the Corvette’s front bumper, frowning.

  “No.” This was daylight. The lot was filled with business people who’d stopped on their way home. Maybe, if Reed hadn’t brought it up, she wouldn’t be drawing comparisons. Maybe having him here wouldn’t matter so much, and, despite the risk, she wouldn’t be fighting the desire to place her hand in his again. “I haven’t been back there.”

  “Are you going to?”

  Mara slung the strap of the old purse she’d pulled out of her closet over her shoulder. She didn’t look at Reed as they walked, side by side, into the bright store. “What does it matter?”

  “Maybe it doesn’t.”

  “I suppose it’s something I should do.” Mara waited while a woman with two school-aged children passed in front of her. “Like an exorcism.”

  “Only when you’re ready.”

  Only when you’re ready. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “I’m trying,” he said softly.

  “Trying? What?”

  “To understand.” Reed nodded, indicating that they were in the way of people needing a cart. “To help.”

  You are helping. In ways you might never know. “I appreciate that.”

  Reed suggested barbecued ribs, a seafood salad, and sourdough bread. Mara approved. She’d never met sourdough bread she didn’t like. Then, while Reed talked to a bakery clerk, Mara wandered through the produce section, finally choosing grapes and tangerines. She found Reed and showed him her selection, wanting his approval. They were waiting in the checkou
t line when Reed dashed back for strawberry ice cream and wine. “One of the drawbacks of being on an expense account,” he explained. “Restaurant eating. Grocery stores are a kick.”

  Mara hadn’t eaten ice cream since she’d left a carton splattered on asphalt. “You like grocery shopping?” she asked.

  “You don’t?”

  “I avoid it for as long as possible. Believe me, the novelty wears off.”

  Reed slid around Mara, hip against hip, and started bagging groceries as the clerk rang them up. “Not if it’s something you seldom do,” he said and popped a grape into his mouth. “I could get carried away.”

  Mara touched her hand to the spot where he’d left his imprint. “You’re a strange man.”

  “Not so strange.” He pulled off another grape and, reaching over, offered it to her.

  Mara leaned forward, taking his gift. She bit down on tangy sweetness and let juice trickle down her throat. No, she thought. Not strange. Distracting, yes. Dangerous, yes. But not strange.

  When they drove into Mara’s yard, Lobo trotted over to the Corvette and thoroughly sniffed it before turning his attention to the Jag. They were unloading groceries when, with a sigh, the Doberman flopped down in the shade of the mobile home. “Bored, aren’t you?” Mara sympathized. “Nothing going on. And me gone so much. Don’t worry. Things are going to get back to normal. Soon.”

  Mara led the way into the kitchen. She got out dishes and silverware while Reed poured the wine. She watched, marveling at the grace he made seem inherent in a task she’d always taken for granted. She’d started to put the ribs in the microwave to warm when Reed stopped her. “How about taking it easy for a few minutes?” he suggested. “Unless you’re starving. Maybe we’ll just talk tonight instead of trying to squeeze in a lesson.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Sure. We’ll do a double session tomorrow.”

  When Mara turned from the microwave, Reed touched his fingers lightly to her shoulder and led the way to the deck at the back of her place. He pulled two canvas lawn chairs together and sat in one of them. “I have this fascination with roses. I can’t get over the colors they come in,” he told her. “Their aroma. The different sizes. What it takes to make them grow.”