“Thanks. Mom helped me decorate it before she died. I wanted a place that said ‘home’ from the moment I walked in until the moment I walked out. We weren’t professional decorators, but I think I did okay.”
“You did more than okay. It’s amazing. And the furniture … I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Company in New York. They custom built everything for me.”
“Two bedrooms?”
“Three. One is my little study slash office. The other is a guest room. They did the furnishings for those too. Italian or Greek?”
That jarred him. “What?”
“Italian or Greek? Dressing. For your salad. Which would you prefer? If you want Italian, I have cubed prosciutto, shredded mozzarella, and Kalamata olives. If you want Greek, I have Kalamatas, diced chicken, and feta. Whichever you’d like.”
“Hmmm. I think the Greek.”
“Coming right up. Just set the chops in the middle of the table.” He did as she said and before he could turn around, she delivered a beautiful Greek salad to his place setting. “Here ya go. Let me get mine and I’ll sit down.”
The salad was delicious. When they were finished, she said, “Hang on. Let me get everything else.” In seconds, there was a plate in front of him with asparagus and some kind of potatoes on it. “Pick your chop and I’ll take the other one. And please, take the biggest one.”
One bite and he groaned. “My god, this is good. What did you put on these chops?”
“My special seasoning. It’s a secret. I could tell you,” she said and winked, “but I’d have to kill you.”
“Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he said with a laugh.
“Nope.”
One bite of the potatoes and he could barely stand it. “Oh holy hell, what are these? I’ve never tasted anything like this. They’re incredible, Daesha. I mean, really. They’re just … amazing.”
She smiled and tented her fingers, her elbows on the table. “Sliced potatoes layered with gruyere cheese, then whipping cream poured over them and baked. Like ‘em, huh?”
“Like them? I love them. I’ve got to tell my mom about this. My dad would flip over these.”
“Oh shit!” Her face fell. “I forgot to put the rolls in the oven!”
“I don’t know about you,” Amos said, his mouth full of potatoes, “but I don’t need any bread. I swear, this is the best meal I’ve had in … well, a long time. Do not tell my mother I said that!” he said, chuckling, his mouth still full of food.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s the least I could do. Want some more wine?”
“Yes, please. That’s really good wine.”
“It’s not expensive. I happened across it one time at a tasting the store was doing and it was so good that I bought a few bottles. Now I make sure to go get more when I get down to my last bottle. I like to have it around. It’s just a nice wine for pretty much anything except fish.”
Amos was stuffed, but he kept eating. What a meal! He ate a lot of frozen dinners, and once a week his mother fed him a home cooked meal. But the food Daesha had cooked was beyond anything he’d ever tasted. “So you’re a gourmet cook?”
“Dear god, no! Everything I made here is super simple. I don’t like to cook, but I do like to eat! So I try to keep it as simple as possible. Not a lot of ingredients, just a lot of flavor.”
“Well, you’ve certainly succeeded,” he told her as he ate the last bite of potatoes. “It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a meal this much.”
“Are you finished?” He nodded, and she stood and grabbed his plate.
“No! I’ll clean up. You cooked. It’s the least I can do.”
“You don’t have to. You’re my guest. Just go in the living room and make yourself comfortable.” He reached for the wine glass, then thought better of it, but it was as though she could read his thoughts. “Take it. There’s nothing so sacred in this house that you can’t sit on it and drink wine. If you spill it, I have club soda to clean it up. It’s really no big deal.”
“Thanks. I’d hate to waste any of this.” He lifted the glass and sent it out in a toasting motion toward her. “It’s really too good to waste a drop.”
She giggled. “Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed this. It’s no fun cooking for one, so I don’t do it very often.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He settled into the big chair in the living room, but he could still see and hear her easily. What a great design, that house. Comfortable, convenient, well-appointed. “By the way, before we get started, where’s your restroom?”
“First door on the right down the hallway.”
“Thanks. Be right back.” Amos headed that direction. When he turned on the light, he was stunned.
That had to be the most beautiful bathroom he’d ever seen. Oddly, there was nothing feminine about it. It was just all dark wood, polished granite, and antique bronze. He had to admit, he’d never been in a bathroom before that had a chandelier, but there was a small one in there, complete with vintage bulbs. Her attention to detail, from the battery-operated flicker candles to the automatic-open trashcan, was incredible. “That’s some bathroom,” he said as he sat back down in the living room.
“I tried to put nice touches on everything here. I’m not one of those people who redecorates every three years, so I wanted things I’d enjoy for a long time. I’ve been in here for six years now and I’m not tired of it yet, so I guess I succeeded.” He watched as she did something under the counter and in seconds, he heard the dishwasher kick on. “There we go. All cleaned up. Let me get those files.”
Minutes later, they had papers scattered out on the coffee table. Amos looked at all the photos of the crime scene, including the ones of her sister’s body just as it had been found. Something about the whole thing bothered him, and it wasn’t the goriness of it. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but there was something …
“See anything?” she asked.
“No. But that doesn’t mean there’s not something there that’s been missed. It’s just a first-time once-over, and I need to look at them again and again in little batches to make sure my brain processes everything.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
“This was particularly violent,” he murmured, mostly to himself.
“That’s what I keep saying.”
Amos took a quick glance at her face. “I guess looking at these must really freak you out.”
She shook her head. “Not anymore. Yeah, at first, but now, I just want to figure this out and find who did it. It’s become almost like I’m looking at someone I didn’t really know, just a body. I mean, look at her face and look at the picture of her from Christmas that year. They beat her until she was unrecognizable.”
“Yeah. And they ran all the DNA?”
“Yep. Nobody in the system that it matched.”
“Hmmm. Have they run it again lately?”
“That I don’t know. Why?”
“Because if somebody came into the system since then―”
“Oh! Of course! I dunno, but I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
“No. Never does.” He pointed to something in the picture. “This was her car?”
“Right after she and Max separated, she bought a new Mercedes.”
“Wasn’t that kind of unusual?”
“Not if you’re on the dating scene again, I guess not.”
“But I thought she wanted to keep them together?”
Daesha shrugged. “That’s what she said, but that’s why I think she was seeing somebody.”
“Uh-huh. That makes sense.” Amos glanced over everything again. “Would you mind if I took all this with me? I’d like to take it to the office and spread it all out, let the other guys look at it, see if they see something you or I haven’t.”
She hesitated. “Well, um, I guess so. I mean, it’s the only copy of all this stuff that I have, so please―”
“Oh, no. I’ll take good care of it. I’ll tr
eat it like it was my sister’s file, okay? It’s just that sometimes a fresh set of eyes―”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I get it. Sure. Go for it. I’ll get it back from you when you’re finished with it.”
“Would you mind if I made copies?”
She shrugged, her eyebrows in her hairline. “If you want. I don’t have a problem with it.”
“Good. I’ll do that and then I can just give it back to you.” Amos started pulling everything back together and putting it in the folder. But he was a little puzzled.
The whole time he’d been sitting there, he’d been waiting, sure Daesha was going to move closer to him, or lean into him, or put a hand on his shoulder as she scooted in closer to look at whatever he was looking at. But she hadn’t, and he found that weird. Of course, he wasn’t attracted to her, so it would’ve been awkward if she had.
Or would it? He watched her from the corner of his eye as she straightened and stacked papers. It was almost as though she hadn’t noticed he was a man, that he was just a sexless being sitting there beside her. Just a friend. Women had always been attracted to him, and it confused him a little, so he decided to try something. “You know, I was a little worried when you invited me over. I was afraid you were going to see this as a date or something.”
She snorted. “Oh, I know better than that. You’re not attracted to me. Men in general aren’t attracted to me. They don’t want me.”
“What makes you say that?”
The papers she had in her hand dropped to the tabletop and she stared at him. “Why wouldn’t I say that? Look at me. Men don’t want this. They want the cheerleaders, especially the ones with two real feet. Even if they managed to see me, when they find out about my amputation, they’re disgusted. I’m an untouchable.” She stopped for a few seconds before she added, “Why am I saying all this to you? You already know it. You don’t want me either, so you’ve already figured it out.”
Amos wasn’t sure why, but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her movement. She spun instantly to stare into his face with something he thought was mild fury, but he couldn’t help himself when his mouth opened. “You’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re serious,” she barely whispered.
It was as though his filters all dissolved when Amos leaned into her and kissed her. His free hand came up to stroke her cheek, and he was shocked at the hunger he felt rolling off her lips. When he broke the kiss, she stared at him, and that was the moment he saw it.
There was a tiny crystal tear in the corner of her eye. “Please,” she whispered in something like a prayer, “don’t do this to me.”
His heart torqued in his chest. This woman had been through hell, and she’d come out the other side and actually managed to laugh and smile. He was pretty sure if he’d been through everything she’d been through, he’d never smile again, and yet she’d made a good life for herself. Something bloomed in his chest, and he recognized it immediately.
Respect.
Low and quietly, he asked, “Can I tell you a secret?” She nodded. “That server at the restaurant?” She nodded again. “He told me not to hurt you, that you’d had enough hurt in your life. Daesha, I would never hurt you. I respect you far too much.”
The tear escaped and slid down her cheek. “Why does that sound a lot like a pickup line to me?”
It clicked. Amos understood in that blinding second why all his other relationships had crumbled. He’d been with all the wrong women, and he’d been with them for all the wrong reasons. That had to stop if he ever wanted to have a real relationship with a real person, and this woman was real. Matter of fact, he didn’t think he’d ever met anyone as real as she was. She was all in-your-face, here’s-who-I-am-and-I-can’t-change-it from the first instant, and he needed that. Talk about a reality check―she was the real deal. Before he could stop himself, he said, “I’d like a chance to make you change your mind on that.”
“What do you want from me?” she asked in a whisper.
“Just be yourself. That’s all I want. And I’ll be myself, my real self, not the mask I put on for everybody. I’ll just be me. You may not like me. But what I want?” Three more tears fell down her cheeks. “I want you to have for me just a crumb, just a speck, of the respect that I feel for you right now. Because I do respect you, Daesha. I barely know you and I think I respect and admire you more than anybody I’ve ever met. You’re not a survivor. You’re a thriver. I’ve never known anybody else like you in my life, and I have this feeling if I don’t get to know you, I’m going to kick myself through all eternity.”
Her tears had gone from silent slivers of silver to open sobbing. “But my amputation …”
“You let me worry about that. That’s not your bugaboo. That’s mine to deal with, and I will deal with it. You don’t owe me any explanations or apologies. At all. So get that out of your head. But I’m not going to lie to you. It does bother me, but not for the reasons you think. I think it’s mostly because I don’t understand it. So help me understand, please? I don’t want to be that shallow guy. I want to be somebody who’s worthy of knowing somebody like you, Daesha. You’re an amazing person, and I’m lucky to have met you.”
As he watched, she crumbled, and without even thinking about it, he wrapped both arms around her and drew her to him, holding her as she cried. He knew the sobs he was hearing were from years and years of pent-up frustration, and if she needed to let that out, she could do that on him. He’d let her. He’d be the sponge that soaked up those tears and squeezed them out as water for a tree that would bear beautiful fruit. Stroking her back lightly, he whispered, “That’s it, sweetie. Let it all out. It’s okay.” She cried like that for five minutes, and he knew she’d be hoarse when she was finished.
The sobs ran into hiccupping sniffles and she finally sat up and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy.”
“No. I think you’re tired and frustrated and hurting and you need answers. I want you to get those answers, you and your family. And I’d really love it if I were the guy to deliver them.”
“Thank you, Amos. I appreciate it. But why did you kiss me?”
“Gee, I don’t know, beautiful. Why did I kiss you? And why am I itching to kiss you again?”
Fear and disbelief mingled on her face, and Amos almost chuckled―almost. “You want to kiss me again? I thought it was an accident.”
He had to laugh at that. “Oh, baby, that was no accident! I don’t go around accidentally kissing people! Never have, and I don’t plan to start anytime soon. Tell you what. Let me get all this to my car, and then I’ll come back in and tell you goodbye properly.”
She shrugged. “I have no idea what that means, but okay.”
“You’re about to find out. Hang on.” Amos gathered up all the files and took them out to the car, then headed back inside. By the time he got there, she was standing at the door, watching, so he stepped inside and let the storm door close behind him. “Okay. I need to go because I’ve got to get up and go to work tomorrow. But I really, really enjoyed dinner. You’re a spectacular cook. And I really, really enjoyed sitting here talking to you. And I really, really, really enjoyed that kiss. I enjoyed it this much.” With that, he took her chin in his fingers and kissed her.
To his delight, her arms wound around his neck and he slipped his hand down to wrap both arms around her waist. Pulling her into him, he could feel her warmth through his clothes, and the taste of the merlot on her lips was more intoxicating than the wine itself. When he broke the kiss, he gave her a soft smile, and she smiled back. “Okay. See how much I enjoyed that? Did you enjoy it?”
She chuckled just a little. “I did.”
“Good. Then let’s do it again. Soon. Like tomorrow night. I’d love to cook for you, but I have to warn you―it won’t be this fancy, and my place looks like a secondhand furniture showroom compared to this,” he said, looking around.
“Nothing. Yourself. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving the office so you can come on over. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding the place, but it takes me a while to get home, so know that.”
“Got it.”
“Good. And now I have your number and you have mine. Want me to text you when I get home?”
She nodded and the corners of her lips turned up into a tiny smile. “Yes. Please.”
“Will do. So goodnight and thank you for a lovely dinner. I had a great time. See you tomorrow night.”
“See you tomorrow night. Night, Amos.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.” Walking to his car, he didn’t look back, but when he got in and pulled it into the turn-around spot, he looked up and she waved. He waved back, then turned and drove away.
There was something about Daesha Wilkerson that fit in the empty hole deep inside him. It had been a void like a spot in a puzzle he’d never found the right piece for. And when he’d kissed her, he’d heard its little sticky-outie things click into place.
All his life he’d heard that phrase, “You complete me.” Now he knew exactly what that meant, and there was no way he was going to let her get away.
He had to be imagining things. No, he hadn’t―somebody pulled into his drive right behind him. And when he stepped out of the Jeep, he groaned.
“Hey, bro! Aleta asked me to bring this back to you.” Jack held out something, and it took Amos a second before he recognized it. It was a bundt pan she’d borrowed from him the week before. How he wound up with a bundt pan, he wasn’t sure. The only explanation was that a woman accidentally left it, and he couldn’t imagine which one.
“Oh, that was okay. She could’ve kept it. I’ll never use it.” Instead of taking the pan, Amos went to the passenger side of the Jeep and pulled out the box of files he’d brought home from Daesha’s house.
“You might.” He could feel Jack watching him. “What’s all that?”
Justice for Daesha Page 4
