He slowed, frowning as he pulled into his driveway, staring at the car he didn’t recognize parked in Bella’s spot. The lights were on in her living room and the blue glow from the television shined through the windows, but her Volkswagen was gone. He grabbed the grocery sack and walked to the mailbox, checking out the license plate on the Toyota Corolla, noting that the vehicle was registered here in California. Absently, he collected his mail, caring little about what was in the pile as he let himself into his house, setting his dinner for two on the counter.
Bella hadn’t mentioned anything about having plans this evening while they’d been at class yesterday night, but that didn’t mean something hadn’t changed. She was most likely out with a girlfriend or maybe even a date. They weren’t exclusive by any means. Bella was free to come and go as she pleased—free to see whomever she wanted. But he was still curious.
Reaching into the bag, he pulled out one of the sandwiches and turned toward the window, spotting Lucy walking around in the side yard. He moved closer to the glass, frowning again when he spotted a pretty blonde with a baby in her arms. “Jenny.” Opening the door, he went outside, petting Lucy when the puppy ran up to him. “Hey, girl.” He crouched down, giving her a good rub on the sides. “Hey. Where’s your mom?” He looked up as Jenny walked closer. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
He stood, catching a hint of her southern drawl in just one syllable. “I’m Reed McKinley. Bella’s neighbor. I work with Shane.”
She smiled. “I know who you are. You’ve been to the house for dinner.”
He smiled back at Regan and Shane’s adopted daughter—or practically adopted daughter. She’d been living with them since their return from Kentucky. “It’s dark. I wasn’t sure how well you could see. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You’re not.”
“Where’s Bella?”
“I’m not sure exactly. She called me a couple of hours ago, sayin’ there was some sort of emergency.”
His shoulders tensed. “Is she okay?”
“I’m thinkin’ so. I’m pretty sure she’s not the one havin’ the emergency.” She shrugged. “Maybe a friend or somethin’. She sounded real upset, though.”
“Huh. Maybe I’ll give her a call.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. You can tell her Lucy’s fine.”
Faith cooed and gurgled as she grinned, holding out her hand to Reed.
He stepped closer, touching the baby’s soft knuckles. “Hi.”
Faith smiled as she gripped his index finger.
He grinned. “She’s getting big.”
“She’s seven-and-a-half months now. My girl’s growin’ up on me.”
Jenny was a kid herself—seventeen or eighteen. “She looks just like you.”
Jenny beamed. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to head in and see if I can get ahold of Bella. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Faith and I are gonna spend the night, more than likely.”
He didn’t like this at all—not knowing what was going on and worrying. “Good night.”
“Good night. Lucy, come on inside now.”
He shut himself in the house, making certain Lucy followed Jenny’s directions, then took out his phone and found Bella’s gorgeous face in his contacts. He selected her image and listened to several rings, rubbing at the back of his neck when she didn’t pick up.
“This is Bella. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”
“Hey, Bella. It’s Reed. I just bumped into Jenny outside the house. Lucy’s fine, but I’m wondering about you. Give me a call. Bye.” He hung up and sat down, starting to eat, confident that Bella would call him back any minute.
But she didn’t. He glanced at the clock on the microwave several times, watching ten minutes turn into twenty. Eventually, he tossed the wrapper into the trash and put the rest of their uneaten meal in the fridge.
Taking the phone with him upstairs, he changed into sweat shorts and put himself through a workout with the bags. By the time he’d finished, an hour and a half had passed since he’d reached out to Bella. Why wasn’t she calling him? She didn’t owe him any explanations, but he wanted one anyway.
He rubbed at his jaw, then settled his hands on his hips, still cooling down after one hell of a set. Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t like Bella. She wouldn’t leave him hanging this way. He wiped his forehead with his arm and dropped it as another thought occurred to him. What if she couldn’t call? What if the Caparellis had her? Had Alfeo decided tonight was the night for revenge? Had she gone up to see her dad and run into some sort of threat from the mob? He yanked up his phone and ran down the steps, ready to go to Reseda despite the fact that he was shirtless and dripping sweat. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and swore. “What the hell is wrong with you? Get a grip.”
Shaking his head, he took a seat on the rickety barstool. This was ridiculous. If Joey could see him right now, he’d shit a brick. Scrubbing at his face, he clenched his jaw. His partner was right: he was losing his cool. Just because he was approaching this investigation differently didn’t mean he didn’t have to keep his head on straight. Bella would call when she could. If she wanted to.
He went back upstairs to the bathroom and showered, then headed to the bedroom, more restless than he cared to admit. Getting into bed, he set the phone on the pillow by his side and lay back, steepling his fingers behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. His gaze wandered to his clock on the desk. “Eleven.” Eleven o’clock and there was still no word.
“Fuck it.” Picking up the phone, he dialed again, and got her voicemail for the second time. “What the hell?” He waited for the beep. “Hey, Bella. It’s Reed again. I haven’t heard from you, so my detective’s imagination is working overtime. I’m hoping you’re okay. Give me a call when you get this no matter what time and put me out of my misery. Bye.” He hung up, certain he would hear her voice any second now.
By one, he was up and pacing, debating whether or not to sit his ass in the truck and ride up to Reseda after all. If she was even there.
His phone beeped with a text, and he hurried over to the bed, glancing at the screen as he sat down with a swift wave of relief.
Sorry to keep you in suspense. I turned off the ringer, fell asleep, and just now realized you called again. Everything’s fine.
“Son of a bitch.” He set down the phone and closed his eyes. “Son of a bitch,” he repeated. The lines were definitely blurring where Bella was concerned. He kept forgetting that their friendship was a ruse to get to Nicoli. “Son of a bitch,” he said for a third time as he lay back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when he’d let his emotions get in the way.
Chapter Fifteen
Bella blinked as she stared at the thin beam of sunlight blazing in through the emerald-green curtains, trying to figure out where she was. She sat up with a start, remembering that she was at Dad’s. She snatched her cell phone off the coffee table and sighed as she noted the time. “Eight fifteen. Damn.” Somehow she’d fallen back to sleep after she texted Reed in the wee hours of the morning. Now it was time to get up and deal with today.
Sighing, she took a moment to stretch her aching back, then dialed the number for Tonya, the office assistant she and Dr. Huberty shared. Unfortunately, there was bound to be some backlash for making last-minute changes to her schedule. Her intention had been to take care of this hours ago, but the emotional aftermath of last night’s bombshell had gotten the better of her, and she’d slept surprisingly deeply.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Tonya. This is Bella.”
“Hi, Bella. How are you?”
“I’m all right.” Gaining her feet, she grabbed her purse and walked to the tiny bathroom, turning on the light and wincing as she studied her disheveled hair and tired raccoon eyes in the mirror. “I hate to do this to you on such short notice, but I’m going to have to cancel my day. I’m hoping you might be able t
o call today’s clients and let them know.”
“Of course I can handle that for you. I’ll get right on it. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’ve had something come up that couldn’t be put off,” she said as she slid her fingers through her long, tangled locks, smoothing them down the best she could. “I can make up appointments Saturday if anyone wants to schedule then. I’ll also make myself available Sunday if that works better. Please tell them I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.”
Most would; some wouldn’t. “Thank you.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’ll be there for sure.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” She set the phone on the counter and dug through her small bag, pulling a cleansing wipe from the trial-size pack she kept handy and the tiny tube of sunblock she hadn’t touched since the day at the beach with Reed—the only tricks she had up her sleeve for this morning’s impromptu beauty regimen. Making quick work of cleaning her face and protecting her skin from the sun’s damaging rays, she did what she could with her rumpled dress next, smoothing out the worst of the wrinkles. She switched off the light in the bathroom, not particularly concerned about her vanity—not when she had much bigger problems to contend with.
Her mind raced with today’s new agenda: grocery shopping, a long conversation with Dad to figure out what was going on with his diagnosis, and a phone call or two to her oncologist friends for their thoughts on Dad’s treatment plan. But Dad needed good, quality food first. She tiptoed her way down the hall to his room, opening his door and peering in. He was still sleeping. She went back to the living room, searching for and eventually finding a pad of paper and pen, writing him a quick note.
Went to the grocery store. Call if you need anything.
Hurrying to his bedroom, she set the note on his side table.
Dad rushed up on the mattress, gripping her wrist with painful pressure.
She gasped, stifling a scream. “It’s just—it’s just me.”
He sighed, and his shoulders relaxed as he let her go. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She rubbed at her throbbing skin where his fingers had left marks. Dad still looked pale, much like he had last night, but there was nothing wrong with his strength. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t.”
She swallowed and took a step back, still shaken by the flash of violence she’d seen in his eyes. “I’m going to the grocery store to get us some breakfast.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. I’m hungry.” She wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “Are you feeling well enough for me to go, or should I stay?”
He touched cautious fingers to his injury. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be back soon.”
“You should go home.”
“I’ll be back soon,” she repeated and left, making her way to the nearest store to fill a cart with fruits, vegetables, and several other nutritious items he would need to help his body heal. They were going to fight this disease and win. Changing his diet was a major first step.
She made quick work of chore number one and was back at the house in less than an hour, bringing in bags and putting stuff away. Setting the next bag on the counter, she reached in and stopped when she realized the patio door was open and the smell of fresh cigarette smoke was wafting her way. “Dad?” Sighing, she grabbed one of the vegetable juices she’d picked up at the juice bar and brought it outside, squinting in the bright sunshine.
He looked at her with dark circles under his eyes, holding a can of soda in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
“What are you doing?” She snatched the beverage from his grip and slapped the juice down in front of him. “Try this instead. You need to start eating better. You need to take care of yourself. Your cupboards are full of junk.”
He blew out a long stream of smoke. “That juice isn’t going to help me much.”
“Of course it is. Vitamins and minerals are exactly what you need. Not this.” She jiggled the can. “I’m filling your fridge with good food, and I’m tossing away all of the crap—”
“I’m dying, Bella.”
“No.” She shook her head. “A cancer diagnosis isn’t necessarily a death sentence.”
“Mine is.”
Her frustration grew along with her fear. Dad sounded like he’d already thrown in the towel. “Daddy—”
“I’ve got about six months if I’m lucky.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
Her hand holding the can fell to her side, the cold, dark drops splashing from the cement to her legs barely registering. “The doctors—they told you that?”
“Yeah.” He sucked on the cigarette.
She sat down, staring at the table as she struggled to grasp what Dad was saying. “How long have you known?”
“A while. I had cancer a couple years ago. I beat it with surgery and chemo, but it came back. I’m not going through all that again.”
Her gaze flew to his, recognizing the finality in his voice, seeing the acceptance in his eyes. “You can’t just give up. We could get a second opinion.”
“I’ve had two already. It’s too late, Bella.”
“No. No, it’s not.” She shook her head adamantly this time. “I know several oncologists—”
“There’s nothing anyone can do.”
She stood slowly, making certain her legs would support her as her heart raced and fear pumped through her veins. “I’m going to—I’ll make us some breakfast.” She didn’t want to eat. She could barely tolerate the idea of food, but she had to do something before this utter sense of helplessness drove her mad.
“I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“You can eat what you want. And you need your antibiotic.”
He tamped out his cigarette. “I don’t see much of a point.”
“I need you for as long as I get to have you,” she choked out over the emotions strangling her throat. “That’s the point.” She turned toward the house.
“I have to go to my regular doctor today. They need to take a look at my head and check my blood.”
She closed her eyes, summoning some strength, and turned back. “I’ll drive you.”
“I can take a taxi. You have a job.”
“I canceled my day.”
“Bella—”
“I’m here, Dad. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s what worries me.”
She frowned, absorbing the hurt. “I’m sorry that makes you unhappy.”
“It doesn’t make me unhappy. When I hugged you good-bye all those years ago, I accepted that I would never see you again. Having my beautiful daughter standing on my porch makes me luckier than I have a right to be.”
She nodded as her eyes welled. “I’ll get us some breakfast.” She walked down to the kitchen and stopped at the counter, her shoulders slumping as she gripped the cheap laminate edge, fighting to keep her breathing steady. How was this happening? How could Dad be dying when she’d only just found him again?
She allowed herself the indulgence of one tear, dashing it away as quickly as it fell, then stood straight. Crying would do nothing for her right now. Dad needed her to keep it together. She absently rubbed at the growing ache in her temples, ignoring the dull shooting pains radiating in her head as she cooked them both a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. She added grapes and strawberries to a bowl, not sure how much Dad would be able to tolerate. Picking up their dishes, she pasted on a smile and brought their morning meal to the back porch. “Here you go,” she said as she set Dad’s plate in front of him.
“This looks good.”
“I hope you like it.” She took her seat and forced herself to chew and swallow several bites of egg and toast in the tense silence. “I want you to come stay with me.”
“No.”
“I can help y
ou—”
“No.”
She set down her silverware with an impatient clatter. “Why?”
“I like my doctors here. I’m right down the street from the hospital.”
“You’re alone.”
He shrugged. “I like being alone.”
“We had friends in Ohio. We used to have barbeques with the neighbors.”
“That was a lifetime ago.”
“I love those memories. I don’t have many with you. I was little, but I remember our garden and going for bike rides in the park. You and Mom were happy. Then everything changed.”
“And I’m sorry for it.”
She wanted more than that—an actual explanation, but now wasn’t the time. “When’s your appointment?”
“One.”
“We’ll be able to have lunch first.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I’d like to talk to my friends about your case. The oncologists I know.”
“I’m not going to spend what time I have left pumped full of chemicals, feeling worse, just to die anyway.”
She stared down at her lap, trying to accept that Dad’s mind was made up. “Then what can I do for you?”
“Nothing.”
She exhaled a biting breath.
“Get together with me for dinner sometimes—or lunch. Be my daughter.”
She met his gaze again. “I’m coming to see you every week. I’m going to bring you food.”
“Bella—”
“You’ll feel better if you eat well.”
Sighing, he sat back.
“I want you here.” She took his hand, staring into his eyes. “Maybe that’s selfish, but I want you here. I just found you.”
Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series Page 16
