Divorced, Desperate and Daring (Divorced and Desperate Book 6)

by Christie Craig

  “Exactly,” the man said.

  “Tell me,” Danny asked. “Do you have trucks with your name on them?”

  “I have a business, so yes. Why?”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Three. But one’s not here at the moment.” The man frowned.

  “And how many men do you have working for you?”

  “Two.”

  “Do they have uniforms?”

  “What does any of this have to do with me not knowing some chick?”

  “Just answer please. Do you have uniforms?” Danny repeated, his patience thin.

  The man looked puzzled but not concerned. “I supply shirts. Why?”

  Danny pulled out his phone. “Can you tell me who this is?” He put the phone in front of him.

  Owens let out a gulp of air. “Damn it. I was afraid of this.”

  “Afraid of what?” Chase asked.

  “That’s my cousin. Patrick Ledger. Both named after our grandfather. He’s an ex-con. I hired him because my aunt asked me to, but . . . I shouldn’t have.”

  “Why not?” Danny asked.

  “He ran off with my truck and some money. I filed a report. I got word this afternoon that they impounded my truck in Phoenix, Arizona. He was arrested again. Do you know how much it’s gonna cost me to get my truck?”

  “Is he still in jail?” Danny asked, afraid to hope.

  “I’m assuming. He hasn’t got anyone to bail him out. But then again, he always seems to find some woman who’ll bail him out.”

  “What was he doing time for?” People generally repeated their mistakes.

  Mr. Owens shook his head. “The list is long. At one time, he was even being looked at for a murder case. I screwed up hiring him. My aunt really believed he was innocent on most accounts and all he needed was a chance. You see what it got me. No one deserves second chances.”

  Yeah they did, just not this jerkwad. Danny stormed out of the room to call the Phoenix police. Chase and his sergeant could finish chatting with the plumber and do the paperwork. This wasn’t even his case. Never mind he’d been the one to solve it.

  • • •

  Danny had been on the damn phone all friggin’ afternoon with the Phoenix Police Department. Although it wasn’t his case, he still was the one most interested in putting the case to bed. So he got stuck making things happen.

  It obviously took a call from the Dalai Lama to get PPD to extradite a prisoner. He almost could have gone and picked up the guy himself, as much time as it took getting paperwork signed by higher-ups and into the hands of the right person in Phoenix.

  By five, he’d finally gotten word that it would happen, not immediately as he’d requested, but hopefully by Friday.

  Was he happy? Hell no. He wanted him here now! But Danny knew when to shut up and take what he could get.

  He’d taken a five-minute break to call Sheri and tell her the picture had done the trick. He’d also informed her that although the man she’d dated hadn’t been Patrick Owens, they now knew who he was. And from the looks of things, he was also the one behind her case.

  Now all he wanted to do was get back to her and eat something. He’d skipped lunch again, unsure why he’d been doing that regularly since he met Sheri.

  When he was leaving, Turner and Cary congratulated him on getting the work with Phoenix PD done. The whole precinct had taken bets on if he’d make it happen or not. Supposedly, Turner and Cary had put their money on him and walked away with fifty bucks each.

  It was almost six by the time he walked into his apartment. He’d texted Sheri to tell her he was headed home.

  When he unlocked the door, he heard Taco bark and the click of his paws echoed. Stepping inside, he petted the dog and saw Sheri rinsing dishes at his sink. Inhaling, he caught her scent.

  He recalled all the days he’d come home to an empty apartment. No sounds. No feminine scents. No soft woman.

  He’d tried really hard to convince himself he liked it that way. But right now, no amount of convincing would do the trick. He’d been lonely.

  Damn lonely.

  “Hey.” She smiled, grabbed a towel to dry her hands and met him halfway.

  She leaned into him. He kissed her, and a little voice inside him said she belonged here. But it was the same damn voice that also warned him that needing someone that much could lead to a world of hurt.

  How could someone hold on to something, or someone, without really getting attached?

  That was the million-dollar question.

  And he didn’t have a fucking clue what the answer was. The back of his neck started to itch again.

  She pulled him over to the sofa. “Sit down and tell me everything.”

  “Let me get a beer,” he said and started for the kitchen. “You want one?” he asked, looking at her already sitting down.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  He opened a bottle and saw the flowers and cookies on the bar. “Can I have a cookie?” he asked.

  “You bought them,” she said, smiling.

  “For you,” he said and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “That means they’re yours.”

  “Then yes, you can have one.”

  He pulled one out of the clip that made up the arrangement and headed back to the sofa.

  “Okay, spill it,” she said.

  “His name wasn’t Patrick Owens. It was Patrick Ledger. He’s the cousin to Patrick Owens.”

  She nodded. “And?”

  “And he’s got a list of priors a mile long.” He sat down beside her and took a bite of the cookie.

  “Can I pick ’em or what?” she said sounding angry at herself.

  “Hey . . . don’t beat yourself up. Conning women was his thing. There’s like six cases where he moved in and took over their bank accounts.”

  Sheri shook her head. “But he wasn’t trying to con me. At least not yet. He was trying to kill me. And screw me,” she said.

  Hearing that made Danny’s gut knot. “I know, and we don’t know exactly what his plan was, but there’s a case in Georgia where one of his girlfriends died of mysterious causes and he just happened to have a five hundred thousand dollar life insurance policy on her. He didn’t get it because they ruled it a homicide, but they didn’t have enough proof to charge him.”

  Sheri seemed to consider it. “But blowing me up with a bomb isn’t going to look mysterious. And wouldn’t I have to sign a life insurance policy?”

  “He could fake the signature.” He frowned. “Like I said, I don’t have all the answers. But about eight years back, he and a buddy were arrested and did time for breaking and entering into a check-cashing place. They used a bomb to blow up the safe. So we know he has some experience with explosives.”

  “So you’re almost certain he’s the guy?”

  “Almost,” Danny said.

  She slumped back against the sofa. “I feel like an idiot. Why couldn’t I see he was a fraud?”

  Danny pushed her hair from her cheek. “You try to see the best in people. You give them the benefit of the doubt,” he said. “It’s the flaw of being kind-hearted.”

  “No, it’s a bad habit,” she said. “And I come by it naturally!”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head. “My mom.”

  “I like your mom.”

  “Yeah, she’s great. I love her with all my heart, but she’s . . . She overlooks people’s flaws. Too easily.”

  He read something in her eyes. “You mean your father?”

  Her next breath sounded sad, and he knew the answer before she said it. “Yeah.”

  Danny remembered thinking something was off with Sheri and her father. “I thought he was a preacher.”

  “He was . . . but as my mom so often said, ‘It didn’t mean he wasn’t human.’”

  “What did he do?” Danny asked and felt a dislike for the man brewing.

  “He was an alcoholic.”

  Danny heard the pain in Sheri’s voice.
“He didn’t . . . hurt you, did he?”

  As if she understood where his thoughts went, her eyes widened. “No, nothing like that. There were times that he . . . was actually a good father. I’ll even admit that it was most of the time. But . . . but when he drank, he would get verbally abusive. Not even to me—Mom wouldn’t have tolerated that—but to her.” Tears filled Sheri’s eyes. “Mom was so good to him. When he was off the wagon, she’d help him hide it. But when he was drunk, some of the things he said to her were . . . awful.”

  “Did he drink all the time?”

  “No, he’d stay sober for years between his slip-ups. And when he would drink, Mom would always get him sober again pretty fast. But even when he wasn’t drinking, I . . . I couldn’t shake it. Mom would make me go to church, and I’d sit there every Sunday and all I could think about was what a hypocrite he was. And whenever I would do something the slightest bit bad, he’d remind me that I had to behave a certain way because his church was watching me. And all I could I think about were the nights he’d lock himself in the study, getting drunk, and then treat my mom like shit.”

  Danny’s heart ached for Sheri. Hell his heart ached for her mother, too. He reached over and pulled her against him. She stayed there a while without talking. “When he got older, he didn’t . . . slip up . . . as much. I was almost ready to forgive him. To try to focus on the good, like Mom always did. But Mom got breast cancer and, according to her, Dad couldn’t handle it. He started drinking again. I was furious. Mom needed him. I needed him. And he couldn’t stay sober for us.”

  She swiped at her cheeks. “Then he got diagnosed with stage-four liver cancer, and it was all about him. He stopped drinking. But then it was as if he wanted absolution . . . for all his sins. He told mom he’d had an affair with the church secretary years ago and she’d gotten pregnant. He had a son out there. My dad wasn’t just an alcoholic, or an adulterer, he was a deadbeat dad, too.”

  “Damn,” Danny said and hugged her tighter.

  “Here she was fighting cancer herself, and she had to stop and take care of him. She couldn’t even get mad at him because he only had a few months to live. She had to watch the man she loved die. And she loved him. Don’t ask me how, but she did.”

  All of a sudden, Danny remembered the letter Sheri had asked him to get from her condo. “The letter . . . is it from him?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. And Mom was a tad upset that I hadn’t read it yet the other night.”

  “Please. Surely she understands how you feel,” Danny said.

  “No. She thinks I’ve forgiven him, too. Or maybe deep down she knows I haven’t and she thinks something in that letter is going to change how I feel.”

  “So you haven’t read it yet?” he asked and caught a tear slipping down her cheek.

  “I tried to. But I can’t bring myself to open it. I’m still so angry at him.”

  Amazingly, so was Danny. He’d never disliked anyone he hadn’t met as much as he disliked Sheri’s father right now. And as crazy as it was, it hurt that he couldn’t protect her from what happened in the past. But he’d be damned if he’d let anyone hurt her again.

  “Then don’t read it,” he said. “Your mom will just have to understand.”

  “No,” Sheri said. “It would hurt her. She’s been hurt enough. I’ll read it eventually, and I’ll keep on pretending that everything is just fine.”

  “You shouldn’t have to do that,” he said. “That’s not right.”

  “Maybe not, but why should she have to pay the price for something my dad did . . . again?” Sheri inhaled. “Tomorrow night I’m going to a ceremony. Mom gave fifty thousand dollars to the church to help with reconstruction, and they’re naming that building after my dad.”

  “That’s a lot of money.”

  “Dad’s parents were pretty well off and then he had life insurance. But it’s not the money. I don’t care about it. It’s . . . being in that church again.” He saw her swallow.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  She looked up at him. “No. You shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “I want to. At least you’ll have someone there who understands.”

  She looked up at him, tears brightening her eyes. “You’d do that?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  • • •

  Danny woke up early that morning around three. Before he opened his eyes, he felt her heat next to him. He heard her breathe.

  He and Sheri had eaten leftovers and then he’d filled his Jacuzzi and they’d taken a long bath, sipped on a small glasses of brandy and ate cookies.

  When they got out, he took her to his bed and made love to her. It was slower and somehow twice as meaningful as the other times. She’d fallen asleep on his chest as they watched a late-night talk show in bed.

  Now, opening his eyes, he looked at her. She looked younger when she was asleep. She looked like an angel. Hell, she was an angel.

  He thought of her father, and anger filled his chest with only one breath. He thought of Patrick Ledger, and Mark, and Kevin and all the men who’d hurt her. Holy hell, if he didn’t want to build a cocoon around her to shield her from any more pain.

  Then in his next breath, it hit. He wasn’t in lust or like with her. He was in love. And who the hell was going to protect him when . . . when she left? And eventually they always left. His parents. Tanya. Even his aunt and uncle had died, leaving him with an empty place in his life.

  His chest started to ache. His neck itched. He slipped out of bed and went into the living room where he sat, awake, fighting panic for the rest of the night.

  • • •

  Sheri’s eyes fluttered open. Danny’s scent was all around her. But she suddenly knew his scent was all that was around. Funny how she could tell he wasn’t there even before looking. She rolled over. She’d been right. Was the connection between them that strong? She wanted to believe it.

  She sat up. Was he making coffee?

  She slipped out of bed. His shirt, a long-sleeved dress shirt, the one he’d worn to dinner with her mother, came down almost to her knees. She felt sexy wearing it, too. Lifting up the collar, she inhaled his scent and smiled.

  Wanting to surprise him, she moved quietly, imagining putting her arms around him as he filled the coffee pot.

  If she had any doubts about her feelings for Danny, they were wiped away last night.

  The way he’d held her.

  The way he’d listened.

  The way he’d made love to her.

  She loved him. And her gut said Cary was right, that Danny loved her, too.

  She tiptoed down the hall. She hadn’t gotten to the living room when she heard his voice. He was on the phone.

  Was it about work? She slowed down.

  “I don’t know, Anna,” he said. “No, I haven’t told her. Because . . . No, I don’t think it can be slowed down. We’re practically living together.” Pause. “No, I don’t want that!”

  Sheri’s breath caught. Her chest gripped. Tears filled her eyes.

  Slowly, so as not to make a noise, she turned around and went back to the bedroom.

  He hadn’t even said good-bye to her. She pretended to be asleep as she heard him dressing. She pretended her heart wasn’t breaking when she heard his front door open and close.

  Taco’s paws clicked on the floor as he moved into the bedroom looking for her. He came to the side of the bed, rested his face against hers and sniffed her face—as if noting her tears.

  She forced herself to get up. She found the note on the bar.

  I made coffee. You were still sleep, so I didn’t wake you. I’ll call later.

  Danny

  Not Love, Danny. Just Danny.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “What happened?” Chloe asked as Sheri tossed her stuff in her friend’s trunk and then guided Taco into the backseat.

  “Nothing happened,” Sheri said. She’d made up her mind not to bad-mouth Danny to Chloe. Sheri had gone into
this with her eyes wide open. She’d known staying at his place had been a mistake. The fact that she’d given him an out and he hadn’t taken it still pissed her off, but she didn’t want to ruin Danny’s relationship with Cary and Chloe.

  “Don’t lie to me!” Chloe said. “Your nose is red. Your nose is always red when you’ve been crying.”

  Sheri climbed into Chloe’s passenger seat.

  “I’m killing him!” Chloe said as she fell behind the wheel.

  “No, you’re not,” Sheri said, praying she could get through this without crying again. “Look, he helped me. He’s been over-the-top nice to me. He probably saved my life.”

  “Then why are you leaving?”

  “I need to go home,” Sheri said. “I’m no longer in danger.”

  “That’s bullshit!”

  Sheri looked at her. “Okay, here’s the deal. He’s commitment-phobic. I knew this going in. And before I end up getting hurt, I think its best I just go home.”

  “What did he say to you?” Chloe asked.

  “Nothing.” She reached over and squeezed Chloe’s wrist. “He didn’t say anything to me.” The to me part of her sentence saved her. “Look at me. You know when I’m lying. Am I lying now?” Sheri looked Chloe dead in the eyes.

  Her friend frowned. “No, but something had to have happened or your nose wouldn’t be red.”

  “You’re right. I was crying because . . . because I already care about him more than I should.” No way would she use the word love. Nope, somehow, someway, she was going to convince herself she’d been mistaken. “But that’s not Danny’s fault.”

  “It’s always the man’s fault,” Chloe said.

  Sheri managed to smile. “Maybe not this time.”

  The ring of Sheri’s phone filled the car. Sheri looked down at it, saw it was Danny and cut it off.

  Chloe gave her the stink eye. “Was that Danny?”

  Unable to lie, she just said it. “Yes.”

  “And you’re not taking his calls. He did something! I knew he did something,” she growled with a tone of pissed-off best friend.