by Sharon Sala
Trey hurried to Olivia’s side.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. I thought for sure that you and Ella would hit it off. Tomorrow I’ll see if—”
“I love her,” Olivia said. “She’s the neatest person I’ve ever met.”
“But you two were—”
Olivia arched an eyebrow and then began putting the matches back in the box.
“We’re just alike,” she said. “Neither one of us likes to lose. She’ll be fine tomorrow.”
“How do you know?” Trey asked.
“Because tomorrow I’ll let her win.”
Trey grinned. “Okay, then I’ll just go tell her thank-you and let the rest of it ride.”
Olivia waved him away as she continued to replace her winnings in the matchbox.
Trey hurried out of the house and then across the yard. He rang Ella’s doorbell, expecting her to be furious with him. Instead, she answered the door with a grin.
“Hey, big guy… how come you’re already over here? I would have thought you couldn’t wait to put your arms around that sweetheart of yours.”
Trey felt as if he’d just stepped into the twilight zone. He’d seen them fussing like two dogs over one bone, and now they were all smiles and laughter.
“I just came over to make sure you were okay,” he said.
Ella frowned. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you seemed so upset, and I didn’t want you to—”
Ella put her hand on his arm and shook her head. “Honey, don’t worry. It was all just for show. I thought she needed a morale boost, so I was just letting her win. However, you don’t mess around with poker, you know. Tomorrow I’ll nail her hide to the floor.”
Trey thought he was grinning, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Okay, then, as long as everything is okay,” he said.
“Right as rain, and for the record, she’s a keeper.”
“I’m going home now,” Trey said, then kissed Ella on the cheek, and headed back across the lawn.
When he got back inside his house, Olivia was pouring a can of pop over a glass of ice.
“Want one?” she asked.
“I need something stronger,” he muttered.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Nothing, honey, and yeah, I’ll have a Pepsi. Only let me get it.”
“I can pour pop into a glass,” she said.
“I know, but maybe I want to baby you a little,” Trey said as he took the can from her hand.
Olivia started to argue, then saw the need in his eyes.
“I’ll just be in the living room with my head on a pillow and my feet up, waiting for you to baby me a little,” she said, then winked at him as she walked out of the kitchen.
Trey’s hand was shaking as he opened another can. He wasn’t certain what was going to happen during the next few weeks, but he knew for sure he could hardly wait to see.
17
Trey grilled steaks. It was about the only thing he could cook and not mess up. He opened a plastic bag of ready-to-eat baby spinach and field greens and dumped them in a bowl, took the salad dressing out of the refrigerator and put them both on the table. He was looking for steak knives when the timer went off for the potatoes he had baking in the oven. He poured a couple of glasses of iced tea, put the plates and cutlery in place, and then stepped back to eye the table. Something was missing, but he couldn’t think what.
At that point, Olivia, fresh from a shower, came into the kitchen. She looked at the table, whistled softly beneath her breath, then looked at Trey with new respect.
“I’m impressed.”
He grinned.
She looked back at the table, then her forehead suddenly knitted.
“Do you have any steak sauce?”
“That’s it!” Trey said, and went back to the refrigerator, got a bottle of ketchup and set it on the table. “Dinner is served.”
Olivia arched an eyebrow. “That’s steak sauce?”
“It is in this house,” he said.
Olivia shook her head, dug into the pantry and came out a few moments later with a bottle of steak sauce that had never been opened.
“Where’d you get that?” Trey said as she set it on the table beside the ketchup.
“In the pantry,” Olivia said.
Trey frowned. “I’ve lived here for more than ten years. You’ve been here less than twenty-four hours and you find stuff in my house I didn’t know was there. What’s that all about?”
“It’s called being a woman,” Olivia said. “Is it time to eat?”
“Definitely,” Trey said, and pulled out a chair for her, then held her elbow as she sat down. “Is your shoulder hurting you much, honey?”
“Not bad,” she said.
“Will you let me cut up your steak for you?”
“Yes, please, that would be great.”
Trey cut the meat from a rib-eye into bite-size pieces and then put them on her plate, added a potato hot from the oven, and split and buttered it for her.
“Salad?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” Olivia said.
Trey put some salad on her plate, then sat down, but instead of eating, he couldn’t quit looking at Olivia.
“What?” she asked.
“I keep thinking this is a dream and any minute I’m going to wake up and you’ll disappear.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Olivia said.
Trey started to say something else, then picked up his fork and began to fix his own food.
For a few minutes they ate in silence, passing salt and pepper, opening the new bottle of steak sauce, getting napkins, nothing that required much thought. But they were both thinking hard and fast about the situation they found themselves in.
Olivia had asked for a second chance with Trey, not knowing that she would wind up in his home before the week was out, while Trey was torn between the joy of having Livvie so close and fear that something in the Baby Jane Doe case would ruin this relationship they were trying to renew.
Finally the meal was over. Olivia went to the living room to lie down on the sofa while Trey did the dishes. He brought her a dose of her painkillers and a glass of water when he was done.
He handed her the pills, which she gratefully took, then held the glass of water as she raised herself up enough to drink.
“Thank you,” she said, and then winced as she lay back down.
“I should have shot the son of a bitch that night in the hospital and thought about it later.”
Olivia reached for Trey’s hand, then tugged him down onto the sofa beside her.
“You saved my life. It was enough.”
He held her hand gently, eyeing the dark bruise where the IV needle had been, then the healing scrapes and bruises on her face.
“Ah, Livvie… what should I do with you? You turn me inside out with just a look, and you’ve been so hurt, and in so many ways.”
“But, Trey, none of it was your fault. You just happened to be the one assigned to sort through the mess my family finds itself in.”
Even though he wanted her there, Trey had yet to feel easy about her presence. If he had to venture a guess, he would say it had to do with trust.
“I know, but as a man, it’s hard to see you suffering, know that I had my hands around the neck of the man who hurt you, and still left him breathing.”
“My hero,” Olivia said softly.
“I want to be,” Trey said. “That and so much more.”
“Just love me and forgive me,” she said. “It will be enough.”
He looked at her for a moment, then managed a small grin.
“We’re really going to do this, aren’t we, hon?”
She threaded her fingers through his.
“We’re already doing it.”
“And you’re still gonna stay with me, no matter how this case turns out?”
She searched the shadows in his eyes, accepting his distrust as her just due.
&nbs
p; “Yes, Trey. I’ll stay with you—no matter what.”
A self-conscious smile broke the seriousness on his face.
“Just so you know, having you to come home to was a damn fine thing.”
Olivia grinned. “So, tough guy, just so you know, anticipating your arrival was damn fine for me, too.”
He laughed.
Olivia shivered as the sound rolled through her and knew that she would remember this moment for the rest of her life.
***
It was a little after one in the morning and the third time Trey had gotten up to check on Livvie since she’d gone to bed. Every time he started to drift off to sleep, he saw her again as he’d seen her in the E.R., wounded, bloody and barely breathing. The horror of that memory pulled him out of bed and across the hall to see for sure that she was really there and really okay.
He’d barely slept the night before and knew he should go back to bed now and get what sleep he still could before the alarm went off at six. But he couldn’t make himself move. Once he might have dreamed this would be their future, but it had been years since he’d let himself think of how much he’d cared and how much he’d hurt when it was over. Now, through a twist of fate, he’d been given another chance with her, and he wasn’t going to let anything ruin it.
“Trey?”
He jerked. He hadn’t realized she was awake until she spoke.
“Yes, it’s me,” he said, and moved to the side of her bed. “You could have something for pain again. Do you need it?”
“No.”
“Drink of water?”
“No.”
“Yeah… well, I’ll just—”
“Would you lie down beside me?”
“I’m afraid that I’ll—”
“Considering the fact that you’ve been in here at least twice since I went to bed, I’m guessing it’s the only way we’re going to get any sleep.”
He sighed. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just worried.”
“So lie down beside me. You’ll be close enough to tell if I’m in need of anything.”
He grinned wryly. “I’m afraid if I get too close, you’ll know what I’m in need of, too.”
“If you’re willing to give me a couple of days, I’ll see what can be done about that.”
“Ah, Livvie, I’ll give you the rest of my life. So, if you’re sure you want to do this, here I come, ready or not.”
Olivia didn’t even have to move. Trey slid into the bed and then turned on his side so that he was facing her.
“You’re not under the covers.”
“I’m fine. You just close your sweet eyes and sleep good for me.”
Olivia sighed, then closed her eyes. Oddly enough, she quickly went back to sleep.
Trey watched her, taking comfort in the steady rise and fall of her breasts. Even in the shadowed room, he could see the perfection of her profile, the sensuous curve of her lower lip, slightly parted in sleep. Her eyelashes were dusty shadows against her cheek, her hair dark silk against the pillows. He thought of her at two, sleeping like this, innocent and unaware of how quickly life could turn, and closed his eyes.
As a little girl, Olivia had seen the face of her parents’ killer. And then a thought surfaced. Had she known there was another child? What if she’d seen her? Had she known they were sisters? Sweet Jesus, she wouldn’t have even had the verbal skills to explain what was happening or what she’d seen.
Before, he’d known about her past, but only on the surface. She’d been a pretty girl who’d fallen for him as hard as he’d fallen for her. The fact that she’d been the victim of a horrendous crime had never entered into their relationship.
But they were grown-up now.
And he’d been thrust headfirst into her past as thoroughly as a man could be and not have been a part of it. He’d seen the bones in the suitcase, and it suddenly dawned on him how close she’d come to the same end. If fate—in the guise of Foster Lawrence—hadn’t taken a lost little girl out of hell and dumped her in a mall… For the first time since he’d gotten mixed up in this mess, he could almost make himself feel grateful to Lawrence.
He hurt for the child she’d been. He ached for the woman she’d become. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to find the person responsible and make him… or her… pay.
She moaned in her sleep.
His eyes opened instantly.
She shifted slightly, then rolled over on her good side, pulled a pillow up against her chest to cushion her arm and scooted back against Trey.
He swallowed past the knot in his throat, gently slid his arm across her waist and pulled her closer until the full weight of her body was resting against him.
Only then did he close his eyes again.
Only then did he feel as if he was keeping her safe.
Only then.
***
Rose rolled over in her sleep, pulled the sheet up a little higher on her shoulder against the blast of cool air from the window-unit air conditioner and dreamed of the day when the Sealy house would be renovated and she could go home.
***
Terrence couldn’t sleep, and his restlessness had awakened Carolyn. It wasn’t the first time they’d made love in the middle of the night in an effort to lay old ghosts to rest. They could have blamed their restlessness on jet lag, but it would have been a lie. The weight of the past was heavy on their hearts, and they were dealing with it as best they could.
***
Marcus sat in a chair near the window in his hotel room, staring blindly out into the night. The small circular courtyard of the hotel was lit against the dark, highlighting the clusters of shrubs and landscaping, but he wasn’t seeing it. His mind’s eye was taking him back through the years, and he was searching with the desperation of a parent who knows he has failed, trying to find the moment when everything had begun to go wrong.
Was it Amelia’s death that had put Michael on a path to destruction? Had the loss of his mother when he was seventeen given him some kind of insecurity complex? How could his son have had two separate lives and his own father not know?
Marcus leaned forward, then buried his face in his hands. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t always been chasing the almighty dollar, maybe he would have seen what was happening before it was too late. Then maybe Michael and Kay would never have been murdered and their baby stolen away in the night. And maybe—just maybe—the fate of Baby Jane Doe would never have been an issue, because she wouldn’t even have been born.
***
Anna was curled up in her bed, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. The baby doll someone had had the wisdom to provide lay tucked up beneath her chin. Its wide, sightless eyes and small frozen smile seemed oddly obscene in a place where such sadness and confusion reigned, but its presence was, for Anna, a reassuring thing. She had always been determined. Even as a child, she’d been single-minded. In her mind, the last few years had never been. She was still the woman she’d been when Marcus Sealy had hired her as a nanny. She loved little Olivia with all her heart, but then there’d been a fire and they’d taken Anna away from all she knew. In doing so, they’d lost the baby. Anna had been terrified beyond words until that nurse had put the baby in her arms.
For now, all was well with her world.
***
Foster Lawrence was tormented. He felt as if he was caught in some damn loop in time, unable to escape the worst mistake of his life. His lawyer was pressuring him to cooperate with the authorities—to tell what he knew and save himself. And God knew he wanted to save himself. But he didn’t have it in him to give up the one person standing between himself and freedom.
***
Olivia woke up in Trey’s arms, and for one brief moment thought she was dreaming. Then he opened his eyes, and she knew what was happening was real. She saw the instant flare of desire that he quickly masked.
“Good morning, honey,” he said softly, and kissed her cheek. “Did you sleep okay?”
�
�Remarkably well,” Olivia said. “I think it was my bed partner.”
He grinned. “I didn’t sleep sound, but I sure slept happy.”
Olivia laughed.
“I am so looking forward to the rest of my life.”
The laugh died on Trey’s face.
“Me too, Livvie. Me too.”
“I need to get up,” she said.
He sighed. “Sure, honey. Need some help?”
“Maybe,” she said. “I’m sort of stiff first thing in the morning, but it gets better.”
He rolled out of bed, then helped Olivia up. As soon as she was safely mobile, he headed for his own room to shower and shave. There was a day to begin and a case to solve before they could get on with the rest of their lives.
***
Sheree Collier leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs as she lit up a cigarette. Her family had been harping at her to quit for years. Too bad. This morning she’d just made her fifth big sale of the month and figured she had a right to celebrate. She took a long drag, pulled the smoke deep into her lungs, then exhaled through her nose. Her husband, Doug, hated when she did that. He said it wasn’t ladylike—that it made her look like some cheap hooker. Sheree usually ignored him, but there were times when she hated him for the remark.
Still, today she was in too good a mood to hate anyone. She was great when it came to selling real estate and was intent on being Miami’s Realtor of the year.
The phone rang in the outer office. Sheree glanced through the glass partition, watching as the office secretary answered. When the woman suddenly turned and held up two fingers at Sheree, she knew it was for her. She stubbed out the cigarette she’d been smoking, cleared her throat and punched the button on line two.
“Hello, this is Sheree.”
“Mrs. Sheree Lawrence Collier?”
Sheree frowned. Something in the man’s voice told her this had nothing to do with real estate.
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“Mrs. Collier, my name is Detective Trey Bonney. I’m with the homicide division of the Dallas Police Department.”
“If you’re calling about my brother, I don’t know a thing,” she said shortly.
Trey’s fingers tightened on the pen in his hand. He’d found her!
