Hushed voices outside her window and door had her crawling out from under the covers and across the carpeted floor to the front windows overlooking the parking lot so she was stationed right below. Staying low to the floor, she strained to make out even part of what they were saying but they were being too quiet. Slowly rising to her knees, she lifted one corner of the drapes and peeked outside, her heart hammering like a timpani in her ears.
A man and a woman stood on the pavement in front of Josie’s door, luggage thrown over the man’s shoulder and in both of his hands. A small child was held in the woman’s arms and even in the dim light Josie could tell the toddler was deeply asleep, a thumb stuck in its cupid bow mouth. The couple pointed one direction and then another before heading off to the right about three doors down and disappearing inside.
She slowly let out the breath that she’d been holding. They were simply a harmless couple with an exhausted kid. No threat. No danger. She’d overreacted, but then what happened when they finally found her and she under-reacted? It was better to stay vigilant, always keeping an eye on her surroundings as if her life depended on it. She couldn’t allow herself to get sloppy because that’s how people ended up dead.
Like Amy. Those wide, unblinking eyes staring up at Josie still haunted her, asleep or awake.
With unsteady hands Josie let go of the drapes and fell back down to the carpet, ignoring the rough texture against her bare legs. She began to tremble in a delayed reaction and she could only sit there on the floor, propped against the wall as sobs began to shake her entire body. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and she rocked back and forth, trying to somehow self-soothe but knowing inside that this situation she found herself in was only going to get worse.
It might never get better.
Everything was about as bad as it could be and her options were few and far between. Cops were chasing her, bad people were chasing her, and now she was scared of her own shadow.
She didn’t know how much more of this she could take.
Chapter Four
Nothing had prepared Josie for what she found at Evan’s home the next morning.
Dirt and grime an inch thick. Stacks of newspapers, magazines, and general crap everywhere she looked to the point that he’d dug a path through the house so he could get from point A to point B. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t piled high except for a patch of table in the kitchen where he had a drip coffee maker.
“I hope you don’t take cream in your coffee because I don’t have any milk.” Grimacing, Evan handed her a bottle of chilled water. “The fridge is unusable in its current state so I have a cooler filled with water, juice, and soda. It’s going to be hot today so you’ll need to stay hydrated.”
She did a three-sixty, taking in as much as she could. It might be easier to just bulldoze the whole place and start again. “You weren’t kidding. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
His shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily. “I wouldn’t blame you if you’ve changed your mind. The fact is I ought to be kissing your feet for even thinking about taking this on with me.”
Josie had a distinct feeling it was that desperation that had snagged this job for her; no references and very few questions asked so she couldn’t complain. At the moment, a regular job wasn’t available to her.
Besides, she was getting to like Evan.
He appeared to be a nice man who had a near impossible job ahead of him and could use the help. He’d also been funny and charming as they’d talked over breakfast. He had interesting stories of visiting here in the summers between school years.
“Can I ask you a question? Are you fixing up this house to live in or to sell?”
Careful not to knock over a stack of magazines, Evan leaned across the door frame. “Good question. The fact is I don’t know. You say that you were laid off so you’re planning to travel the country. Well, I quit my job not long ago and I still don’t know what I’m going to do with my life now. My family has owned this house for a long time and something needed to be done with it. But my parents aren’t in the best of health to do that so it seemed like a good project while I figure things out. I used to work down here near Tampa a few years ago and I’ve always liked the area, although I’m originally from Montana.”
She frowned, having a difficult time picturing him in boots and a cowboy hat. He was currently dressed in khaki cargo shorts, a yellow t-shirt, and beat-up tennis shoes. He was a handsome man by any criteria with his close-cropped dark hair, slight beard, and light blue eyes. His shirt strained at his wide shoulders and his abdomen looked trim. Heck, even his legs were tanned and muscular. If he hadn’t been hiding himself away in this backwater burg he would probably have a few females following him around.
He might have them anyway for all she knew. There were certainly plenty of hiding places in this house, or spots to hide a body too. Which considering her recent history immediately creeped her out.
“You don’t think there are any bodies here, do you?”
His brows shot up and he threw back his head and laughed, clearly amused by her semi-serious question.
“I’m not sure how we got onto this subject but I can state categorically that there are not any dead people under one of these stacks. We’d smell them by now.”
Her gaze swept the room, landing on a particularly suspicious mound of newspapers on the couch. “Okay, but if I find a body or even a hand or a leg I’m going to need a raise.”
“If you manage to find anything like that I’ll double your hourly rate. It would only be fair since I’d bet I would be scarring you for life.”
She was smiling at him and then her current predicament slapped her in the face, wiping any trace of happiness from her expression. She’d been enjoying his company so much she’d almost forgotten how incredibly screwed she was and that it wouldn’t be her first dead body. That cherry had been well and truly popped a few nights before. Despite what she’d told him, this wasn’t a fun, adventurous lark around the country. This was life and death.
She’d do well to keep her head down, make some money, and then get the hell out of town.
* * * *
Pushing a sweaty and dusty lock of hair out of her eyes, Josie dug into another stack of papers in the kitchen. After much discussion, they’d decided she should start here since the quicker they could get the room cleaned out, the quicker they could actually cook a meal in it.
So far she’d looked through mostly stacks of old periodicals, dusty and torn. She’d carefully set aside the Life magazines she’d found, wondering if perhaps they might be worth a few dollars to a collector. Surprisingly, they weren’t in terrible shape despite how they’d been stored, although they weren’t pristine enough to fetch top dollar. The photos in the magazines had been seductive and she’d found herself flipping through the pages of pictures from the Vietnam War and hippies at Haight-Ashbury. If she had time, she could easily get lost in the history of an era before she was born and only seen in movies.
Sipping at her water bottle, she almost choked mid-gulp when she tossed an old newspaper from 1973 aside, revealing her find. Her fingers ran down the cover reverently as she reminded herself to breathe. Carefully, she lifted it off the stack and paged through the magazine. Tears, not from the dust but from a swell of emotion, pricked the back of her eyes and she swiped at the moisture dragging more dirt across her cheek.
“Evan,” she called, although the sound came out more like a croak. “Evan, I think you need to see this.”
He strode through the doorway, wiping his hands with a towel. “Is everything okay? Did you see a spider?”
She couldn’t hold in a laugh at the thought of her cowering in a corner from the mere sight of an arachnid.
“I’m not afraid of spiders unless it’s a real big one. No, I wanted you to see this. It’s quite a find.”
Even tossed the towel aside and grinned. “You haven’t seen any of our Florida spiders. They get big, all right. And hairy. Actual
ly, being careful about them is a good idea. There might be some brown recluse spiders in here and they are poisonous.”
He looked completely serious.
Now that was something she didn’t want to hear. Maybe spiders were creepy after all. The one thing she didn’t want to see was a palmetto bug, although she was pretty sure she was going to in all this mess.
“You’re full of good news. I should have asked for hazard pay.” She held up the magazine. “Take a look at this.”
He took it from her hand and perused the cover, his brows shooting up almost to his hair line. “Holy shit. This is the Life magazine from JFK’s assassination.”
Evan sat down on the floor next to Josie. “Isn’t it amazing? I got so emotional when I saw the picture of his little boy saluting. It was so sad.”
“I remember my mom and dad telling me stories of where they were that day. They talked about Camelot and how magical it was. I don’t think we have anything to compare to that now.”
Josie would gladly take a time machine back to anywhere before Saturday night. “I’m sure you’ll want to keep that. It might even be worth some money.”
Evan shrugged but smiled. “Maybe, but it’s not in the best of condition. I think I’d like to keep it though. If you come across anything else you think is interesting just set it in a separate stack and I’ll look through it later.”
So far, Evan Davis was proving to be an easy going boss. She was also overjoyed to see that he didn’t own a television, which boded well for her. It would make it more difficult for him to find out who she was.
“How’s the bedroom coming? Found any spiders or snakes?”
Evan scowled as if she’d insulted his mother. “I do not like snakes. At all. So let’s not joke about that.”
Josie held up her hands in a sign of surrender. Evan actually looked kind of cute at the moment, like a little boy who had been told he couldn’t play outside. “I don’t like them either. I was simply inquiring as to how the work was going. Do you want me to continue in here or help you?”
Evan sighed and looked around the chaos that surrounded them. “I was hoping for a divide and conquer strategy but I think you might be onto something. It might be more efficient for both of us to work on one room before moving to another. The question is should it be the bedroom or the kitchen?”
Every room was daunting except for the bathroom, which Evan had cleared upon his arrival. “The bedroom, I think. You can eat out but you have to sleep here.”
Giving her an approving look, Evan nodded in agreement. “Good point. Let’s hit the bedroom and then we’ll head to the pizza place for dinner. How does that sound?”
It sounded like a good deal and she’d be a fool to turn it down. Unlike the kitchen, the bedroom had an adequate cross-breeze through the windows and would be much more pleasant to work in. It hadn’t figured into her opinion of which room they should work on but it was a nice bonus. She’d only worked in the kitchen for a few hours but she’d almost melted with the sticky heat and stale air.
“I say it sounds like a plan. Let me grab another bottle of water and we’ll tackle it.”
This job wasn’t so bad. She was sweaty and dirty but Evan was pleasant to be around and not a slave driver. The wage was fair and she was tucked out of the way in a home miles off the beaten path. Surely no one would look for her out here. Maybe…just maybe…she could relax. Just a little bit. Because if she didn’t, she might break into a thousand brittle pieces and blow away with a puff of wind.
Chapter Five
One short week later Evan was feeling like he’d won the lottery. Hell, better than that. Hiring Lisa had turned out to be the best damn decision he’d ever made. She worked tirelessly until she was sweaty and dirty from head to toe without a single complaint. No whining or bitching. When they were done he was going to build a statue in her honor right out in the front yard. There was no way he would have managed to finish the bedroom this week without her.
He dipped his paintbrush in the paint can and brushed a spot on the wall before stepping back to survey his work. “I’m not sure about this color. It’s so…blue.”
Lisa put down her own paint roller and came to stand beside him. “That’s because it is blue. And need I remind you, we spent a couple of hours at the hardware store picking out that particular shade. You wanted it to be blue, but not too blue. It had to be masculine but not harsh. Giddy with just a hint of playfulness.”
He sure as hell hadn’t said that last part but he’d learned she was a sarcastic little shit and he had to admit he liked that about her. She could make him laugh until his sides hurt.
But he had stretched her patience badly when looking at paint colors. The looks she’d given him that day had been priceless. He was pretty sure she wanted to haul off and smack him a few times. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. He’d annoyed himself, if the truth were known.
“I think you’re confusing the paint with wine. Seriously, I don’t remember it looking this bright in the store.”
“It will dry darker,” she pointed out. “But if you’re truly spooked I guess we could go back to the store and get three gallons of the beige you were eyeing. If you don’t mind it being boring as hell.”
“The beige was nice.”
He didn’t know why he was arguing with her. He didn’t know shit about color or design and had grabbed the most neutral paint he could find before she’d called a halt to the whole thing and made him start again. She’d dragged him to the home furnishings store where he picked out a comforter, sheets, pillows, and drapes. Then and only then would she let him choose a paint color.
And when he said he’d picked it out he meant that she had. She’d made a show of trying to simply steer him in the right direction, but from the raised eyebrows and exasperated expressions he could tell he had lousy taste. That didn’t surprise him as he tried to keep things simple in his own life.
White walls. Beige carpeting. Blue and brown furniture.
So he’d shut his mouth and really taken a look at what she was suggesting, and damned if it wasn’t miles better than anything he would have selected. She’d managed to integrate his brown and blue tastes but in a way he never would have expected. He was kind of looking forward to sleeping in this room when it was done.
“I thought you decided you weren’t going to be afraid of color,” Lisa reminded him with a smirk. “You told me you wanted to live a little and experiment. Have we changed our mind?”
Maybe. No, wait. It was out of his comfort zone but wasn’t that why he was doing this? He’d lived his entire life doing the safe thing, the expected thing. The only time he took any chances was when he was at work, and for the most part it had paid off. He’d been climbing the ranks at the Marshal Service when he was shot.
“No, we haven’t.” Evan blew out of breath, conceding defeat without much of a fight. He wanted this, he was just wary. The last thing he needed was a psychedelic bedroom that would make him get less sleep than he already was. “It’s just…”
“Blue. Yes, I know.” Lisa laughed and went back to her paint roller and pan. “I’ll tell you what. If you don’t like how the room looks when we’re done with the whole thing, I’ll paint it all again myself. For free. That’s how confident I am that you’re going to love it. Is that a deal? It’s a win-win and you can’t lose.”
She has a great smile.
Evan mentally slapped himself as his mind wandered into dangerous territory. He’d spent the better part of a week usually not more than three feet from Lisa and as each day passed his admiration for her grew. Not only was she a hard worker, she was usually happy too, singing to the radio and even dancing around despite the oppressive heat and humidity. She’d made working on this hovel a great deal of fun.
She wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Today she was dressed in cutoff jean shorts that showed off a pair of tanned legs and a worn and faded t-shirt, her long auburn hair pulled back into a braid that went halfway down
her back. Her nose was sprinkled with newly-acquired freckles from the Florida sun that only served to make her look even younger than the first day they’d met. He really needed to ask her how old she was but there were few ways to phrase that question without offending a woman.
“It’s a deal,” he conceded, having no intention of not paying her for the work if she had to repaint. Her efforts so far had been nothing short of heroic. “I do like the color. I’m just unsure about how I’m going to like looking at it on my walls day after day.”
Lisa swept her arm toward the bed in the middle of the room. “If we do this right you shouldn’t notice the wall color. It’s just a backdrop, a canvas really, for the rest of the decor.”
“You sound like an interior decorator. Is that what you did before?”
Instantly her bright smile disappeared and her gaze darted around the room. “Nope. I just like color.”
She was lying but Evan didn’t push her for the truth. Clearly, it was something she didn’t want to discuss and she hadn’t pushed him for personal information either. In fact, she’d been exceedingly respectful about all the subjects that put him in a bad mood. The least he could do was give her the same courtesy.
“You’re more creative than I am so I’m grateful for the help,” he said instead. “We better get started or we’ll never finish this today. I’m hoping we can get two coats on these walls plus the trim.”
“You’re an ambitious man but I think we can do it.” Lisa’s smile was back and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want her to be unhappy. He desperately needed her on this job.
He’d come to depend on her company more than he should. She was friendly, relaxing, and she didn’t bug him about what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He hadn’t expected it or even wanted it, but Lisa had become important to him in a short space of time. She’d quickly become his friend but eventually she would leave, moving on to the next place in her quest to see the country.
Justice Reborn (Cowboy Justice Association Book 8) Page 3
