Southern Romantic-Suspense Boxed Set (Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel Book 0)

by Carmen DeSousa

  Pulling out a book was like a magnet for Jordan’s attention. He’d be enthusiastically involved with the news on one channel and Ultimate Fighting Championships on the other, flipping back and forth during commercials. But the moment she cracked open a book, he wanted to talk.

  It didn’t bother her; sometimes she did it deliberately to see if it really worked. Next thing she knew, he’d crawl over to her side of the sectional, expecting a back scratch or lay his head on her lap. He could be such a baby sometimes.

  She’d forgotten to tell Caycee that if there wasn’t going to be any lovemaking, Jordan would accept his second best thing in the world: his back scratched. She could imagine Caycee’s face when he plopped down in front of her and removed his shirt while still watching TV. Jaynee never really thought about it; she knew what he wanted. She’d dutifully become his back scratcher, and when he was content, he’d put his shirt back on and then pull her in front of him. The idea made her heart hurt almost as much as it caused her to smile, imagining what it would be like to be a fly on the wall.

  Fishing through the DVDs, it was no surprise that Caycee’s collection was almost identical to hers. She riffled through the assortment for one of her favorites and found it easily. It really was uncanny that though they’d chosen different paths, their likes had never changed.

  She popped the DVD into the player and pressed pause so it would be ready when the pizza arrived.

  The home phone rang, and she jumped a mile. She was so on edge. The other reason was it had genuinely surprised her. She never answered the phone at home; she didn’t even have the ringer on in the living room and kitchen.

  The phone was for emergencies and the kids. If someone wanted Jordan, they called his mobile; if they wanted Jaynee, they called hers. Most of the family didn’t even have their home number because they knew Jordan and she never answered it. If anyone called on the home number, one of the kids would answer and bring it to them.

  Jaynee didn’t intend to answer the phone, but she still peeked at the caller ID in the event it was Caycee. The number was from CJ Enterprises, Caycee’s company name, she assumed.

  When the answering machine kicked on, a man’s voice came through the speaker. “Caycee, it’s Ben. Please pick up.” A couple seconds passed as he waited for her to do just that, but of course, she couldn’t. “Please, Caycee. I’m sorry if I scared you the other night, but you have to listen to me. She’s gone. Sheila left. She went to her mother’s or something. She knows I want a divorce, and evidently, she isn’t going to fight me. Please, baby. We can be together … I thought this is what you wanted.”

  Jaynee waited for him to hang up, but he remained on the line … waiting. She wondered if she should answer, inform him to go away, explain she wasn’t interested. He’d called Caycee baby. If he knew anything about her, he would know she hated that endearment. It felt condescending. She’d hated it when her ex-boyfriend had used it, even after she’d told him repeatedly not to, and she couldn’t imagine that Caycee had changed her feelings about the endearment either.

  “I’m coming over, Caycee. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Jaynee grabbed the phone to scream, “No,” but when she picked it up, it was too late; he’d already disconnected the call.

  This Ben guy was on his way. She could ignore him, hope he went away, but it sounded as if he had no plan to leave before he spoke with her.

  What was the worst thing that could happen? She could answer the door, speak her piece, and insist he leave. If he refused, she’d call the police. It was the only answer. The only way he would probably leave her alone. She could make a date with him for Saturday night. Then Caycee would be back, and she could handle him herself. Decision made, she felt comforted.

  ***

  The other woman had left, it seemed, so she would be alone. Caycee would go to her regular restaurant, but even if she picked up another poor suspecting soul, she would still be home by early morning. She never stayed the entire night, and she never brought men back to her place.

  Tonight, then. No one would suspect who’d kidnapped Caycee; the alibi would be rock solid. Everything was complete. If things didn’t go correctly after Caycee’s disappearance, clues of her abduction, would point directly to the person they should, the person who’d caused years of pain.

  ***

  He parked across the street from her apartment building, something he did every night around the same time. He would follow her to the restaurant, wait a while, and then go inside too. He changed his appearance constantly, never knowing what she was looking for in a man.

  How many nights had he watched as she chose others over him? He would imitate their different looks, their hair, their style, but still she never chose him. He couldn’t understand it. He was average height just shy of six feet, average weight. He wasn’t a model by any means, but he’d never had trouble picking up women. Any woman other than Caycee, that is.

  He watched the men she chose; they were hardly ever as attractive as he was, and yet … not once had she invited him to her table, never had she taken him to the jazz club down the street, and he’d never been able to take her back to his place. Not that he would have ever asked. He wasn’t interested in a one-night stand. He’d been in love with her for years. When she moved to New York, he’d followed.

  He probably should just approach her, but he didn’t want her to confuse him with all her fans. He would never say, he decided, if he ever got a chance: I’m your biggest fan, I have every one of your albums, or I’ve been in love with you for years. She would surely think he’s crazy.

  He wasn’t crazy; he was sure of that fact. He was crazy in love, that was true, but he had no desire to go through her garbage; he didn’t paste pictures of her around his apartment; he didn’t stalk her every move; he just waited … night after night. It was childish, he’d admit, but he was certain he wasn’t crazy.

  It was past the normal time, and she hadn’t left her building. Maybe she was eating in tonight. She loved pizza, and the few nights she didn’t leave her apartment, shortly after he’d see a pizza deliveryman show up at her building. He’d finally put the two together.

  He sat in his truck, listening to her voice fill the air. The slow song, one of the few she’d recorded, tore at his insides. It spoke of second chances, of lost love, and the desire to change the past. He felt her passion in every word. The first time he’d heard it after meeting her, he’d known that she was the one he’d been searching for his entire life.

  The pizza truck appeared … so she was probably eating in. He’d wait fifteen minutes to be sure, but then he’d have to resign himself to see her tomorrow.

  Tomorrow would be the day, he decided. He would approach her tomorrow. Not with a drink, but with a promise. He would speak of lost loves and win her. There would be no way she could doubt his sincerity if she gave him the opportunity to talk. She would talk with him, he was sure of it.

  If he simply sat across from her and smiled, she wouldn’t be heartless enough to send him away again. She’d give him a chance, and it would be all he needed. Content with his decision, he started up his truck. The deliveryman was still on his phone, yapping. No wonder when he ordered pizza it was always cold. It seemed as though he was having an argument as he was waving his arms in the air, even though the person on the other end couldn’t see him.

  He let out a low oath when he saw a black Mercedes pull up; he’d seen it here a few times.

  “What’s he doing here?” he spewed aloud, recognizing the man as Caycee’s manager, Ben. They’d been an item at the start of Caycee’s career, but she’d broken it off years ago from what he understood. She’d kicked him out of her apartment a few days ago, but here he was, back again for more. He watched as Ben disappeared into the elevator. Just to be safe, he’d wait until Ben came back downstairs before leaving her address.

  Five minutes later, Ben had not appeared, and the delivery boy finally stumbled out of his compact, pizza case in hand,
running toward the building. He was impatient as he waited for the elevator, but then it opened and he disappeared as well.

  ***

  As soon as Ben stepped out of the elevator, his phone rang. The number came through as blocked, but that wasn’t unusual; most of his clients had blocked numbers. They didn’t want anyone to get their private numbers when they called.

  He answered his mobile before approaching her door. Caycee might be his favorite, but she wasn’t the only star he managed. Of course … right now, he didn’t feel like doing any business. Not without Caycee. And he was afraid she might take that from him too.

  His business had been small before he’d discovered Caycee. He’d made good money, but it was nowhere near what Caycee had done for him. She’d launched his career as a musician’s manager, not just small-time commercials.

  But more than the money was what Caycee had done to his heart. He loved her deeply, and he knew she loved him. His wife had left him mentally before his affair with Caycee; he’d had to beg her for any intimacy. He’d stayed with Sheila because he believed in marriage; he’d tried to make it work.

  Sheila had been an ER physician before they married. After paramedics rushed him to the ER for what had felt like a heart attack, he’d fallen for her. She was the gentlest woman he’d ever met. But after they married, all of her passion went to her career, and she had nothing left for him. She worked eighty-plus hours a week, and when she did come home, there wasn’t enough energy to focus on a relationship.

  Falling for Caycee had been unplanned; he’d never cheated on his wife. But they’d spent so much time together that he’d fallen madly in love. He had decided to leave Sheila, but the night he’d planned to tell her, she told him she was pregnant. They’d only been together once in the two months preceding her declaration.

  He’d remembered it clearly, because it had been so unusual. She’d had him sleeping on his futon in his office for years because she was unable to sleep with him in their bed. She’d complained that every movement shook the bed, causing her to wake up. When he absolutely couldn’t take it, he would go to her and plead. She would oblige him and then kick him out.

  Once Caycee went on tour, he spent more and more time away from home. He didn’t have to beg his wife anymore. So when she showed up in his office, it had surprised him. Come to find out, she didn’t like him holding out on her either. He thought that maybe she would return to the way they used to be. He still loved her and wanted it to work, but couldn’t go on the way she’d been treating him for the last five years. He decided if she’d changed, he would break it off with Caycee, as his first obligation should be to his wife, but if she hadn’t, then he would leave and begin a new life with Caycee.

  Two months to the day after she’d come to his room, he’d made his decision. She hadn’t talked to him, kissed him, or touched him in any way. Well, he wouldn’t deal with her twice a year routine; he decided to leave permanently. He called her and told her they needed to talk, that he would be home early. But when he arrived at home, she had dinner prepared and was dressed up. When he started to talk, she’d told him she had something to say too, and could she go first?

  That’s when she’d dropped the bomb. He wouldn’t have been just leaving Sheila; he’d be leaving his child too. She quit her career after declaring she was pregnant, and he’d hoped she would want to be a wife and mother. They had plenty of money without her income, and he tended to her every need. Unfortunately, she saw no need to reciprocate. All he’d ever asked was for his wife to love him and she never could.

  Now, his son was fifteen and even though he loved him with a passion, he was old enough to understand. He recognized their issues, and even though he didn’t approve of his leaving, he promised he wouldn’t hate him either. Tyler was evidently tired of hearing them fight. He hadn’t been with any woman other than Caycee, and he hadn’t been with her in years. But everything was going to change tonight. She just had to see him, understand he hadn’t been with a woman in almost sixteen years … even his wife.

  He pressed accept on his phone. “Hello?” There was no answer on the other end, but he could hear a connection. “Hello?” he repeated. “If you can hear me, I can’t hear you.” He waited for another couple of seconds. “Well, if you can hear me, call me back tomorrow. I’m going into a meeting.” He ended the call.

  When he reached Caycee’s door, he started to knock, but then changed his mind; she was expecting him.

  ***

  Jaynee heard the door open. Had she left it unlocked? Would Caycee normally leave the door unlocked for the delivery people? Somehow, it wouldn’t surprise her; she surely ordered pizza a lot, since the restaurant’s advertising magnet was on the fridge. Only problem, she was certain she hadn’t left the door unlocked.

  Rounding the corner, she froze. She opened her mouth to scream, but when she saw the gun, clamped her mouth shut. Another knock on the door gave her hope, but the masked intruder covered her face with a cloth, squeezing her hard enough that she couldn’t get any volume even if she wanted. The gun pressed against her temple threatened that it wouldn’t do much good anyway.

  Unable to keep from breathing, she inhaled the acidic, pungent odor. The foyer walls and kitchen cabinets distorted as the vapor filled her lungs, wavering as though she were viewing them through a barrier of water. The pounding on the door weakened to a soft echoing bass, as if she were in a tunnel, moving away from the previous thuds. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but her assailant, obviously realizing she had no strength, shifted the hand holding the gun to under her arm, holding her weight. Jaynee opened her mouth again as distant words came from the hallway outside the door, but then she remembered it was just the pizza delivery … a kid … he’d die … too. She couldn’t …

  ***

  The teenager with the pizza exited the building, full pizza still in his hand by the way he was carrying it, and then he was back on the phone, yelling. Strange … Maybe Caycee hadn’t ordered it. Maybe someone had called in a prank order. Though, that didn’t make sense. If you’re going to punk someone, it would be for a much larger order than one pizza.

  A tap on his window startled him. Rarely was someone able to sneak up on him, but his mind had been on Caycee. Turning toward the sound, he saw an officer standing outside his truck. He pushed the window control once, allowing the window to go all the way down.

  “Yes, officer? Is there a problem?”

  “Sir, we received a complaint that you’ve been sitting here for a while. I’ll need your license and registration please.”

  “Of course,” he said politely, reaching into the glove box. The police officer took an offensive step backward so that he was standing in his peripherals outside the b-pillar of the door, the safest place to stand. He pulled out his registration packet, then reached for his wallet to retrieve his driver’s license. He handed the officer the documentation. “I’m just waiting on a friend, officer.”

  “I’ll be right back,” the cop offered in a dull, unconcerned tone.

  A few minutes later the officer returned, documents in hand, a slight sneer on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me, Corey?” he asked sourly.

  Corey shrugged. “I’m not on duty, and I always hated it when people did that to me.”

  “Have a nice night,” the cop replied, turning and walking away. Corey focused his sights back on Caycee’s apartment building, but there was no way to know if she was still in her apartment. Her car was still here, but that really didn’t mean anything. Many a night she took a taxi. Ben’s Mercedes was gone, thankfully, so that was one good thing. It meant he still had a chance tomorrow, since she’d kicked her manager out within minutes both times.

  Tomorrow, he would approach her and explain everything. He shifted his truck in gear, pulled out onto the street, and headed home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  (Caycee)

  The afternoon had gone surprisingly well for Caycee. Jordan had been nothing but gentlemanlike on the r
iverside beach, making her feel as special as he had when she was twenty-one.

  When it was time to pick up the kids, they drove together in Jaynee’s Expedition instead of Jordan’s truck. Jordan had walked toward the extended SUV when they’d stepped off the porch, so she followed, assuming it was easier than everyone stuffing into his truck. The two sets of twins, though in second and seventh grade, attended the same private school so all of them were out at 3:45, Jaynee had explained.

  Surveying the roads, Caycee now had landmarks to match the road names she’d already recorded in her phone. The streets were the hardest. All the roads leading to the house were long stretches of empty highway with small farms dotting the landscape on either side of the main thoroughfares. Other than the school, a small country church, and a fire station, no distinguishing landmarks stood out on the three roads she had to navigate after turning off the main highway. Thankfully, she’d dropped a pin on her iPhone’s Maps application. If the kids didn’t catch her peeking at the directions, she’d manage fine.

  She paid special attention to the entrances and exits, though, so if she were still here tomorrow, she would know how to navigate the Expedition without drivers honking at her for going the wrong direction.

  Jordan expertly weaved through the car line mapped out by orange cones that rambled from the road to the school, circling a myriad of parked cars and students. The students who crossed in front of the moving cars were all older high school students who evidently knew the drivers would watch out for them, as they refused to look before darting in front of the parents’ cars. New York drivers would run over these kids if they stepped out in front of their moving car.

  Jeremy, Caycee assumed, evidenced by the Cookie Monster backpack he wasn’t embarrassed to wear and the spiked hair held together by gel, was the first to spot their vehicle. When they were bathed and ready for bed, though, Jaynee had said she had to look closer to tell them apart.