Chance of a Lifetime

by Jodi Thomas

  “You’re not exactly telling me anything I didn’t know or couldn’t have guessed, except the part about reality TV. Just thinking of you watching bikini-clad girls fishing for alligators in the gold mines of Alaska freaks me out.”

  She swung at his shoulder and he didn’t even try to block the blow. Laughing she asked, “Seriously, Matheson, what do you do for fun in this town?”

  His eyes met hers. “This is pretty high up on the list.” He caught her hand and held it for a moment. “All I could think about when I saw that car coming toward us was that you might be hurt.”

  Before she could react, he rolled toward her and kissed her. She went with the kiss and was surprised how fast it turned hot with need.

  When he finally pulled away, she tried to make light of what had happened between them. “You’re not going to tell me we could both die any minute so we might as well make love now.”

  “No.” His hand moved along her side. “I was going to tell you I could get used to kisses like that.”

  He leaned near again and kissed her with enough fire to warm her blood. He wasn’t pinning her down, wasn’t even holding her, but she didn’t turn away. He drew her. There was something good and clean about him, even wounded. He might be intelligent and funny, but the little boy still flickered inside the man. His kiss had an honesty about it that made her want more and to test the depths of his passion.

  When he straightened, both of them were out of breath.

  She sat up. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Why? Because you don’t want to or because you want to too much?”

  “First, tell me why you kissed me.” Trace didn’t look up at him. She guessed he’d read more in her eyes than she wanted to give away.

  Rick leaned back away from her. “I don’t know. It just seemed something to do. Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about doing the same thing.”

  “All right,” she answered. “I’ve been thinking about it, but it shouldn’t have happened. I’m here to protect you.”

  He didn’t move for a long moment, then he rolled from the bed and walked to the door. “In other words, I’m just a job, nothing more. Right, Marshal?”

  “Right,” she answered.

  “Today is exactly why I didn’t want anyone getting involved. I know you think you’re helping, but all you’re doing is getting in the way.”

  “I’m not leaving.” She could see the anger building in him and understood it, but she couldn’t let how he felt, or even what he said, interfere with her job.

  “Fine,” he said as he walked out the door.

  She didn’t see him for over an hour. He walked into the parlor where she’d been reading and watching the street.

  When he returned in a well-fitting suit with a crisp white shirt and conservative tie, Rick Matheson looked completely different. He looked like a successful lawyer. No bandages showed, and with his already wide shoulders padded by the suit, he appeared in the prime of health.

  “Where’d you get the suit?” she asked. All she’d ever seen him in was old shirts and jeans.

  “I had a few in the cleaners. Thanks to Martha Q, I had enough money to bail them out. They delivered them yesterday while we were busy dodging an Audi served at lunch.”

  She knew he was angry, he probably had a right to be, but she didn’t want him hostile. “Want to tell me where you’re going?”

  He didn’t look up. “You should be able to figure it out. I told you my entire route yesterday. It’s Sunday morning. I’m going to church. I plan to walk unless you want to offer me a ride.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “Well, then, I guess you’ll have to do your job, Marshal.”

  She wanted to run over him herself. She thought he might have been disappointed about the turndown after the kiss, but it never occurred to her that the easygoing, lighthearted guy might actually be mad.

  He was a half block away when she caught up with him in the Land Rover.

  “Get in,” she shouted. “I’ll drive you.”

  He didn’t argue. The walk had taken a toll on him. He was in pain.

  “I’m not going in, but I’ll be outside waiting.”

  “Fair enough. Pull in there. I’ll go in and come out the side door.” He didn’t look at her when he climbed slowly out.

  The hour Rick was inside, Trace tried to decide if she should call Denver Sims and tell him to find someone else for the job. She hadn’t known what she was getting into and now that her cover was blown, she might not be as effective.

  The only problem was she knew she was one of the best at what she did and she also realized that she cared about the idiot lawyer. She cared if he lived or died. This wasn’t just a job, a favor for a friend. Somehow it had turned into far more.

  Turning off all emotions, she thought logically. The criminal they were looking for wasn’t likely to be in church. She’d bet most of the people in the small building had known one another all their lives and they’d recognize a stranger. So, if he wasn’t inside, the culprit was outside with her, maybe even watching her now.

  She needed to move somewhere where she could scan the area without him seeing her. She slipped from the car and headed toward the side door. Music was playing as she opened the door and disappeared. To anyone who might be watching, it looked like she’d stepped inside, but Trace slipped around the door and vanished behind the church between a garden wall and the drainpipe.

  Within seconds she was on the roof and heading up the shady side where the shadows of hundred-year-old trees shielded her from view.

  At the top she lay in the dark lines of barren elm branches and looked at the street below. She could see all entrances except the front one, the least likely someone causing trouble might go to.

  When the organ played she could not only hear it, but feel the music through the roof. The Methodists were certainly raising their voices to heaven. After a few minutes, she climbed to the shadow of the steeple and did her job.

  She watched over Rick Matheson.

  Chapter 31

  SUNDAY AFTERNOON

  EMILY MADE AN EVENING VISIT AT SIX TO PAULETTE PARKER’S ICU room, then walked out with Tannon. Somehow, after spending the night close together, there didn’t seem to be a need to talk. It was almost like they were close again, knowing they were thinking each other’s thoughts.

  They made it to a quiet spot along a hospital corridor before he stopped her with a touch. She turned into him for one last long hug.

  “I hate leaving you here,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be all right. Thanks for coming. Thanks for letting me sleep over.”

  Emily smiled. “Sounds strange. Maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “I don’t care what it sounds like. It felt good to hold you all night long.” He kissed the top of her head. “Call me when you make it home.”

  She nodded, almost afraid to say too much. They’d been polite friends all day, careful not to step too far, careful not to presume too much. The old friendship that had lasted through their childhood was there, solid as ever. Two shy, only children who’d found each other and lost each other had found their way back.

  Only this adult friendship was too new. It hadn’t been tested. It might not last.

  “Tannon, you have to let me go if I’m ever going to start home.”

  He laughed and pulled her tighter. “All right. Promise you won’t have sleepovers with anyone else and I’ll let you go.”

  “I promise.”

  She was still laughing when his mouth covered hers. She was ready and willing for a tender kiss, but this was more. He lifted her off the ground and kissed her. She told herself he just needed to connect with someone during this terrible time of waiting. She’d be a fool to read too much into a kiss.

  When he lowered her back to the ground, he whispered, “You didn’t kiss me back.”

  “Didn’t I?”

  “It’s all right. I stepped out of line. It’s b
een a long time since I kissed anyone I cared about.”

  She looked up at him trying to read him. He hadn’t stepped out of line. They’d agreed to a good-bye kiss. Was he trying to tell her he cared about her? Or just out of practice kissing? Emily decided to deal with the easiest misunderstanding first. “I did kiss you back.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did. Or at least I thought I did.” She needed time to think. “Oh, forget it. I need to drive home.”

  He nodded. “We’ll talk about it when I make it back to Harmony.”

  He held her hand as he walked her to her car, but he made no move to kiss her again. The polite Tannon was back.

  When she climbed in the car, he knelt down beside her open door but didn’t say anything.

  She put on her seat belt, adjusted the steering wheel, and turned on her engine, but he didn’t move. Finally, she turned to him. “Are we reaching the point of being more than friends?”

  “I think we are, honey. How do you feel about that?” He frowned as if he’d just been told they both had the same terminal illness.

  “As long as it’s with you, I think I can handle it.”

  “I’ll never hurt you, Emily.”

  She smiled. “I know. That’s why I let you sleep over.”

  He touched her shoulder lightly and closed the door. When she drove away from the hospital, she could still see him standing by the front door watching her.

  Chapter 32

  MONDAY

  RICK DIDN’T EVEN ASK THE MARSHAL FOLLOWING HIM around if he should leave the house; he just dressed and walked to work as if it were an ordinary day in his life, even if it might be the last.

  Trace Adams followed him quietly for a half block, but he knew it wouldn’t last. When she caught up to him at the first busy corner she whispered, “Idiot.”

  “Good morning to you too.” He waited, but she didn’t take the bait. “You know,” he said as he started across the street, “most women don’t crawl out on the roof every night. Though watching you play Bat Woman is sexy as hell, I can’t figure out if you’re howling at the moon or maybe part reindeer.”

  She stayed in step with him but didn’t speak, so Rick grinned and continued. “Tell me, when did you start climbing out windows? Maybe one night when you were about five or six and grew tired of loading and unloading your guns? I hate to be the one to point it out to you, but sitting on the roof isn’t something most girls do. I’ll bet you were cute though in your little rompers made of leather. Could you get those boots in toddler sizes?”

  “Shut up, Matheson.”

  “She talks. That’s great. Since you’ll be following me around all day, don’t you think it would help if you would stop being mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  “You’ve been mad at me, Marshal, since I kissed you yesterday morning.” He smiled and nodded at an old man sitting in front of the florist shop. When they were ten feet down the walk, he added, “If I remember correctly, you kissed me back, so don’t lay the crime at my door.”

  “Lapse in judgment,” she replied.

  “Yeah, right. If you ever want to relapse, just let me know.”

  She wasn’t looking at him when he turned to her hoping for an answer. Her gaze was fixed on a couple standing outside the used bookstore. “Did you know the two white heads were coming back?”

  “No, but I think you should frisk them this time. It’s bound to be a plot against my life.”

  When he reached the elderly couple, Rick smiled warmly as if they were old friends. “How may I help you this morning, Mr. and Mrs. Peters?”

  Minnie looked at her husband, Eldon. “We’re here to buy another hour of your time.”

  “All right. Let’s go upstairs.” As they walked slowly up, Rick introduced the Peterses to Marshal Trace Adams again and said she was with him on official business.

  When they finally reached Rick’s office, Minnie pointed at Trace and asked, “Is she staying?”

  Rick saw the worry in the old woman’s eyes. “No,” he said quickly. “Not unless you’d like her to.”

  “Will it cost extra?”

  “No,” both Rick and Trace said at once.

  “Then I’d like it if she stays.” Minnie moved to the chair she’d sat in Friday. “You may have a criminal case on your hands, Mr. Matheson, so it wouldn’t hurt to have the marshal here to testify to all that is said this morning.” When no one, including Eldon, moved, she continued, “I’ve reason to believe Eldon is trying to kill me.”

  Minnie’s tall, aging husband lowered slowly into the chair next to her. “Now, Wanda, you know that’s not true. It was an accident.”

  The old woman rummaged in her purse and pulled out three fifty-dollar bills. “Our hour starts now. If we go over, I’ve got more cash.”

  Rick nodded. Trace moved closer.

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning, Mrs. Peters.” Rick tried his best to keep from thinking how much he was making and how important every detail would be if he had to build a case.

  “I haven’t got enough money to start at the beginning,” Minnie retorted with a shrug. “I just need to know if I need to hire a lawyer or talk to the police.”

  “If we talk to the police, you’ll be sitting in the cell next to me.” Eldon took off his worn Stetson and lowered his head. “With my luck I wouldn’t even get any peace in prison. Hell, for all I know they went co-ed like all the damn dorms in colleges did. I got four grandkids in college and they got people of the opposite sex living right next door. In my day, we didn’t even eat in the same dining hall. Hell, I wouldn’t have lasted a year with girls on campus.”

  Minnie shook her head. “You didn’t last a year.”

  “It just didn’t take me long to figure out I’d rather farm than study. I told my folks that when they sent me off, but my dad never heard a word I said.”

  “What happened that brought you two here today?” Rick was tempted to let them ramble, but he couldn’t wait to hear the details of the attempted murder. This might prove to be his best file ever.

  Minnie pressed her thin lips together so hard they disappeared. “I’m not talking until I get some assurance from you, Mr. Matheson, that you’ll be my lawyer and not his. We searched a hundred miles around and you’re the cheapest on your hourly rate. I’m the one who found you and I’m keeping you.”

  “Now, Wanda, he’s got a right to make up his own mind. This ain’t no Easter egg hunt. You can’t just say you get to keep him ’cause you found him. Maybe he’d rather go with the more logical one of us or, better yet, the innocent one.”

  Rick glanced at the clock and smiled. They’d been in his office fifteen minutes and hadn’t even told him the problem yet. He’d be making money today.

  As soon as the thought registered, he felt guilty. What kind of lawyer thinks of money at a time like this? He mentally slapped the smile off his face and swore he’d do his best, whatever came next.

  He frowned, wondering if any of the lawyers within a hundred miles had people like this dropping by. Probably all of them. But what did he know? He was the cheapest around, and none of them probably wanted to talk to him. That didn’t set well.

  “Look, Mr. and Mrs. Peters, I don’t want to waste your money. If we could just get to the facts, maybe I could help you.”

  “I can tell you what her problem is.” Eldon leaned back in his chair, causing Trace to jump for fear he might not be able to balance, but he just teetered as he launched into his version of events. “She thought she wanted a divorce until she found out she’d only get half our money. Once we got home, she figured out the only way to get it all was to kill me. Two nights ago she started salting my food and yesterday she bought me a box of cigars.” He let the front two legs of his chair drop and added, “This morning, she started baking sweets like she hasn’t baked in twenty years. She knows I’m diabetic.”

  “I forget,” Minnie said quickly. “A woman’s memory goes about the
same time her husband’s sex drive drops. I’ve committed no crime, right, Mr. Matheson? He’s the one who put the car in gear while I had one foot still on the ground. He’s the one who could have killed me.”

  “It’s no crime to be in a hurry. If you didn’t think you had to open and read the mail before you get back in the car, I might not be dying of old age waiting for you all the time.”

  Rick glanced at Trace. Her only answer was a shrug so he decided to change directions. “How long has this fight been going on between the two of you?”

  Neither one of them answered.

  Rick leaned halfway across the desk. “Look, I’m not a marriage counselor. If you want a divorce, I can help you, but if you just came here for a referee, you’re out of luck. Marshal Adams and I are going to go downstairs and get some coffee. When I come back, I’d like you two to have come to a decision.”

  He motioned Trace to follow him. “And by the way,” he said from the door, “you’re both still on my clock, so don’t take too long to decide or you’ll owe me another hundred and fifty dollars.”

  They were halfway down the stairs when Trace smiled. “You think they might kill each other?”

  “If they do, it’s your problem, not mine,” Rick said as he turned into the bookstore.

  George Hatcher wasn’t at his usual station at the front. Rick felt the hair rise on the back of his neck and saw Trace had tensed like a trained soldier ready to fight. They moved slowly through the empty store.

  Nothing looked out of place except the back door was open. He’d seen George leave the door open on summer days but never when it was this cold.

  They moved toward the back.

  The door creaked open in the breeze and both saw George Hatcher’s body lying facedown on the steps.