His Ordinary Life

by Linda Winfree

  “What does this have to do with Blake?” She studied Del, who stared at his feet, his jaw clenched. “Del?”

  He looked up, his eyes troubled. “This girl’s been dead a couple of days. Tick…” A visible shudder ran through him. “Tick found Blake’s knife at the scene.”

  She shook her head, unable to process what he was saying. “His knife?”

  “Yeah. Daddy’s knife, the one I gave him on his birthday.”

  “But that could have—”

  “There are footprints. Tick wants to check them against Blake’s size.”

  “They think Blake had something to do with Cassie’s death?”

  “Or that he may know something, at the very least.”

  “Oh, my God.” Nausea trembled in her throat. “This is what you were trying to tell me.”

  “Yeah.” He darted a look at the counter. “Honey, he just wants to talk to him—”

  “Don’t call me ‘honey’.” She covered her mouth. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll take care of this, of him, Barb, I promise. I won’t let anyone else hurt him.”

  Nodding, Barbara sagged against the cabinet. She couldn’t give in to the pain and fear. Blake needed her. The girls needed her. She could be weak later, but right now, she had to think, to focus.

  She tilted her chin and met Del’s solemn gaze. “We’re not letting your brother near him until we talk to a lawyer.”

  He cast an incredulous glance at the door. “He wouldn’t—”

  “Del.” She paused until his attention swung back to her. She held his gaze, waiting, unspoken communication flashing between them.

  “You’re right.” He passed a hand down his thigh. “Make the call. I’ll handle Tick.”

  As the door closed behind him, she pulled her address book from the drawer and grabbed the cordless phone. She flipped to the “H” listings and with trembling fingers punched in the first number there.

  The phone rang twice. “Autry Holton.”

  “Autry?” Her voice shook. “It’s Barbara Calvert. I need your help.”

  “Barbara, what’s wrong?” Concern sharpened Autry’s smooth courtroom voice.

  She closed her eyes, the tears spilling over. “Blake’s in trouble.”

  Chapter Ten

  “So tell me what you know.” Autry Holton, her chestnut hair swinging about her jaw, leaned against the wall outside Blake’s room. Barbara had checked in on him when they’d arrived. He slept under the watchful eyes of his grandmother. For Barbara, putting on a cheerful face for Lenora Calvert after the morning’s events went beyond the definition of torturous.

  Barbara rubbed at her temples, doing little to assuage the nagging pain there. “Basically, Tick’s looking at him as a suspect.”

  Just saying the words hurt. Thinking about them, really thinking about them, what they meant, was unbearable.

  “Well, the good news is that he’s a great cop. He’s fair and looks at all the angles, and I’ve never known him to railroad anyone.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “He’s an aggressive investigator, he plays his cards close to his chest, and he builds a really tight case.”

  None of which surprised her. Barbara blew out a long breath and ran a hand over her eyes. Her cold fingers trembled and fear settled in an icy lump in her stomach. “So what do I do?”

  Autry laid a comforting hand on her arm. “You’ve done the first, best thing. You called me.”

  “A lot of people will say it’s because he’s guilty and I wanted you to get him off.” She more than anyone understood the power of a small-town rumor mill. How many pointed looks and hurtful comments had she endured during her pregnancy with Blake, since everyone in town knew Del “had” to marry her. She didn’t want her son to carry that kind of cloud into adulthood.

  “Yeah, and a lot of people are stupid enough to talk to the police without benefit of an attorney and end up behind bars when they shouldn’t be there.” Autry’s firm, no-nonsense voice matched her demeanor. “And I know you well enough to know you don’t want that for your son.”

  Barbara waved a hand toward Blake’s room. “How does this work?”

  Autry smiled. “He’s still a juvenile. The law says Tick can’t interview him without a parent present. Or now, me. I decide which questions he answers. And anything he tells me is privileged.”

  “Okay.” Barbara nodded, some of her nervousness laid to rest by Autry’s calm reassurance. It helped, having a guide, having someone tell her she was doing the right thing. “Barb? Do you want Del here?”

  “He should be here.” Blake deserved his father’s support and Barbara had no doubt he’d get it. She feathered a hand through her bangs. “He went to talk to Tick.”

  Autry nodded. “Then we’ll get him here. I’m assuming you have his cell number?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. You call him, and once Blake is awake, we’ll see if we can get him to tell us what’s going on.”

  *

  Clutching a cup of lukewarm coffee, Barbara stared at a months-old issue of Southern Living without understanding a word. Her mind bounced from worrying about the conversation taking place in Blake’s room to obsessing over every tiny detail of the time she’d spent in Del’s arms that morning. She closed her eyes, still able to feel his skin sliding along hers, to smell the maleness of him, to hear him gasping her name, water rushing down around them. In her throat, the threat of tears burned again. For those precious moments she’d forgotten everything but him.

  Why did that frighten her so much?

  Her intense need for him terrified her. The tearing desire to step out on faith and take him back filled her, but fear overwhelmed the longing. What if she did and lost herself again, became once more the unsure woman she’d been?

  “Barb?” Del’s quiet voice hovered over her head.

  She startled, coffee sloshing onto the magazine. Fussing with the cup and wet paper, she glanced up to find him standing nearby. “I-I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He reached for the paper cup and ruined magazine. She watched him walk to the trash can by the door, left with the feeling of his fingers brushing hers. Rubbing his hands down his thigh, he turned to face her. “Tick’s on his way up.”

  He cleared his throat and she didn’t have to look at him to know his right hand was making yet another foray down his thigh. A small laugh strangled in her throat. She knew him so well, and at the same time, didn’t know him at all.

  “Is he sleeping?” he asked, his voice holding no expression.

  She pulled in a deep breath. “I called Autry. She’s talking to him.”

  “Autry.” He chuckled, and she darted a glance at him to find a half-smile on his face. He shrugged. “It’s still kind of weird to imagine her as the high-powered attorney-type when I remember her as a skinny kid with scabby knees, tagging behind Tick because she had a crush on him.”

  Tightening her arms around her stomach, Barbara straightened. “I trust her.”

  He grimaced. “It wasn’t a criticism, Barb. She’s a good lawyer, and she’ll know how to handle Tick.”

  “Who’ll know how to handle me?” Tick asked. Standing in the doorway, he glanced at Barbara, a cautious grin curving his mouth. “Am I persona non grata?”

  She shook her head. However, she couldn’t shake the sense that he was a threat to her son, and his presence made every maternal instinct in her tighten and sing.

  He crossed to them, and the glance he slanted at Barbara was apologetic. “I know you think I’m the enemy right now, that I’m out to get him, but that’s not true, Barb. This murder is tied to what happened to Blake. I know it, but I need him to tell us what’s going on.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that being any time soon,” Autry said, pulling Blake’s door closed behind her with a soft click. A regretful expression twisted her face as she stopped next to Tick. “He’s scared to death and as stubbo
rn as you are.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Tick winced and rubbed the spot where she’d dug her elbow into his ribs. “So you’re telling me we have an uncooperative witness.”

  “What you have is a teenaged boy who’s terrified but wants to do what’s right.”

  Tick sighed, the small sound vibrating with frustration. “That would be talking to me so I can put these kids away.”

  Autry shrugged, an apologetic gesture. “Well, he’s not telling me what happened or naming names either. He’s afraid, and he wants to protect his mother and sisters.”

  Glancing heavenward, Tick crossed his arms over his chest. “We wouldn’t let anything happen—”

  “It already happened, Tick. It happened to him. You weren’t able to protect him, and he knows that. He won’t say it, but obviously someone’s told him something would happen to Barb or the girls if he talks. In his mind, he’s protecting them.”

  Barbara turned away, a hand over her mouth to hold back the sob scratching her throat. Del curved his hands, warm and capable, around her shoulders.

  “My suggestion?” Autry continued. “Put a detail on Barb’s house and make sure you always know where the girls are. Monitor his visitors, once he’s allowed to have them.”

  Barbara shook her head. “I’m not allowing people in—”

  “Wait.” Del’s grasp tightened on her shoulders and he turned to Tick. “You think they’d show up here?”

  “I’d bet on it.”

  Barbara shook off Del’s easy hold, still shaking her head. “No. Absolutely not. Do you hear what you’re saying?”

  “Barb, hon—”

  “Did he say anything that can help me?” Tick asked, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Anything not covered by privilege?”

  “He wasn’t involved in Cassie Howard’s death.”

  “No, he just knows who was and won’t tell us.” Tick glanced at Autry, his gaze sharp. “Did you tell him he could be charged with obstruction?”

  “Oh, sure, Tick, scare him worse than he already is. That’ll make him talk.” Autry rolled her eyes.

  “Enough.” Del’s firm voice rumbled over Barbara’s raw nerve endings. “He just had major surgery yesterday, for God’s sake. Nobody, and I mean, nobody”—he pinned Tick with a look—“is browbeating him right now. When he’s stronger, you can talk to him with Autry present.”

  The brothers stared at each other for a long moment before Tick nodded. “Right now, we’ll approach it like he’s a material witness. I’ll see what I can do about putting a deputy outside his door. We’ve got some guys who’d love the overtime. We don’t have the manpower for a full detail on Barb’s place, but we can do an hourly check and I can fill in the gaps.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tick tugged a hand through his hair. “I’m going over to Moultrie to see if the forensics are in. I’ll check with you later.”

  Autry waited until he was gone to speak again. “Blake was still a little groggy when I talked with him. He dozed off before I left. I have a client meeting in a few minutes, but I’d like to talk to him again later today, when he’s more alert. I’ll come by after lunch.” She reached for Barbara’s hand. “We’ll work this out, okay?”

  Her chin trembling, Barbara tried to smile. “Thank you, Autry.”

  Once they were alone, the silence stretched, broken only by a call for a doctor on the PA system. Barbara crossed to the bank of windows to stare out at the parking lot below. Her nerves screamed, her muscles tight, her skin crawling.

  Del came to stand beside her. “We need to talk.”

  Bitterness bubbled in her chest. “I can’t believe you’d actually consider letting anyone near him.”

  “Barb, it’s a way to draw them out, to get this over.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “Why won’t he just tell us?”

  “Because he’s afraid. We let him down.” Merely hearing the words stung. “We were too wrapped up in other things to see what was going on with him. Or he hid it too well, didn’t feel secure in telling us.”

  When she lifted her face, the tears welled, sliding down her cheeks. “I tried so hard to be what they needed.”

  “I know.” Reaching out, Del pulled her into his arms. His scent surrounding her, she relaxed for a barely perceptible second. She tugged away and Del stared down at her. He sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion. “Are you going to let it happen again?”

  She darted a look at him from beneath her lashes. “Let what happen again?”

  “We did the same thing to each other. We got wrapped up in our wants and needs, our hurts and feelings, and lost sight of us.”

  “I won’t let it happen with him again.”

  “I don’t mean with Blake. I’m talking about you and me.”

  “Del, please. I can’t do this right now.”

  “No, you don’t want to do this now. Hell, Barb, don’t you see? We put off the hard talks before until we stopped talking at all. Do you really want to put this off?”

  “I have to put him first right now.”

  “I’d never ask you not to. I merely want to talk about us. Damn it, what are you so afraid of?”

  Losing you again. Or worse, going back where we were.

  “I’m not afraid. I just…things are complicated enough right now without throwing our relationship in the mix.”

  “Well, at least you’ll admit we have a relationship.” A wry grin deepened his dimple. “Thought maybe you’d try to convince me this morning was all about meaningless sex instead of what it really was—making love.”

  She stiffened. “I’m sure you know the difference, too.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He grasped her chin, tilted her face up so their gazes met. “Making love is what I’ve always done with you.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.” That phantom woman’s voice murmured in her head once more. Holding up her hands, she stepped away. She didn’t want the mental pictures, let alone his voice talking about another woman in his bed.

  “Hear what?” He frowned.

  She wrapped her arms around her midriff. “How many?”

  “How many? What are you talking about?”

  Blinking away burning tears, she shrugged. “How many other women have there been since you left?”

  “Other…” He straightened, his entire body stiffening. “None.”

  “Oh, Del, don’t lie. Please.” She swallowed hard. “I heard her, the night Anna was sick—”

  “That was Perry.” He shook his head at the mention of his long-time partner in the insurance agency. “She and Steve had driven up for a dinner meeting and we were going over new amortization schedules. You know she’s a complete night owl and once she gets going on work, there’s no stopping her. You thought I’d…my God, Barb.”

  A rush of relief weakened her knees. She brushed her bangs away from her face. “What else was I supposed to think?”

  “Not that. You really thought I’d take another woman to bed when you’re still my wife?”

  She was doing it again, focusing only on how losing their previous relationship affected her. Thinking of herself, not considering him. With a deep breath, she looked up at him. Anguish darkened his eyes from warm chocolate to black ice. She sighed, wanting to touch him but remembering where her touches had led them that morning.

  “Damn it, Barb, how could you think that?”

  “You’re right. It was a stupid conclusion to jump to.” She laid a finger against his lips, stopping the words. “I know you better.” A light flared in his eyes and her breath caught again. She’d seen the expression before—when he’d placed his hand on her stomach and felt their babies moving, the day he’d slid a thin gold band, all he could afford, on her finger, the first time he’d made love to her. He looked at her as though she’d given him some priceless gift, and she glanced away, unable to bear the intensity of that gaze.

  He slid his knuckles along her cheek in a feathery caress. “I never wanted to hurt you, ever, and I�
�m sorry for leaving.”

  Lost in his touch, she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

  She breathed the words against his thumb, stroking over her bottom lip.

  Barbara lifted languorous lids and stared into his smoldering eyes. His thumb lingered at the corner of her mouth. “Did this morning mean what I think it did?”

  The fire in his gaze caused an answering burn in her stomach. Her body throbbed. “What did you think it meant?”

  His hand slid along her jaw, cupped the back of her head, fingers spearing into her hair. “That I’m getting a second chance.”

  Is that what it meant? She wasn’t sure herself, but she let him use the gentle pressure of that hand to pull her closer. Craving his kiss, she lifted her mouth, her lashes drifting down again. This much, she knew she wanted, his lips on hers, the heat and energy of his body enveloping hers.

  His mouth brushed the tip of her nose. Her eyes flew open, and he grinned down at her. “Barbara,” he murmured against her left eyebrow. “Answer the question.”

  Nervousness quenched most of the fire in her belly. “Are you sure you want another chance?”

  “More than anything else on this earth.” He grazed his lips over her cheek and nuzzled her ear. “Except a full recovery for Blake and the bastard who hurt him locked up in the deepest hole Tick can find.”

  She smiled against his jaw. “A man after my own heart.”

  “A man after more than that.” Cupping her face, he lifted his head to look at her. “I want everything. I want my life back.”

  His life. His life meant more than her. It meant Blake, Lyssa, Anna. She bit her lip, hard. “There’s more to your life than just me.”

  A quizzical expression twisted his face and he smoothed her bangs, a slow, soothing motion. “I know that. You can’t think I don’t want them, too.”

  “I know you do.” She shook her head, dislodging his gentle touch. She couldn’t think straight with him this close, with his caresses, as badly as she wanted them. And she’d done too much not thinking in the past where he was concerned. Now she needed every last wit about her. “I don’t think they need to know about us. Not yet.”