Romance in Color

by Synithia Williams

  • • •

  Mona paused in the doorway between foyer and garage. The large door stood wide open, allowing early evening light and the scent of hot charcoal from down the street to enter. She glanced around for Linc. Was he outside? Talking to a neighbor? She closed the small door and walked along the side of the van.

  “Hey. You found me. You’re just in time to supervise.” Linc squatted by an open can of red-brown stain and stirred it with a wooden paddle.

  “We need to talk.” The confidence she’d gathered together while cleaning up the kitchen began to seep out of her toes as she watched his hands. Every micro-movement as he removed the stirrer and set it aside on the lid invited her to touch him. Bad idea. She tucked her hands behind her back and tried for a casual pose.

  “Go ahead. I can listen and stain these planters at the same time.”

  “You’ll need to do some talking too.” She waited for his nod. “At the store today. Basil found me.”

  His brush stroke wavered on raw wood. “And you didn’t say anything until now?” He turned to face her, his brush forgotten and dripping stain on a tarp. “Four, five hours later?”

  “He knows your name. I don’t know how. But he called you Dray.” She identified anger as it crossed his eyes and waited until it was replaced by the more frequent cool determination. “He’s not after money. We … Basil and I … got straight on that.”

  “What does he want? He didn’t follow us for most of an hour and seek you out without a reason.”

  “Silence. He wants both of us to keep quiet.” She pressed her lips tight for an instant to let her tongue and brain get coordinated. “He wants me to say the last time I saw him was at the airport. We’re to claim we haven’t seen him or his El Camino since then.”

  “It’s too late for that. Or did you forget about our conversation with Daryl?”

  “I remember it well.” If she closed her eyes for a moment she could picture the retired Secret Service agent now. He had looked at her with outward casual interest while clearly seeing every little movement and hearing every inflection in her voice.

  “And when Basil finds out?”

  “He’ll have to find me first.”

  “Run and hide. Is that your answer to problems?”

  “No.” Mona shifted her weight but didn’t retreat as he stood and passed her with long strides. Tami’s negative words from the letter she’d managed to read twice rose in her throat. No, she’d not resort to copying another person’s insults.

  He jerked open the van passenger door and reached for the glove box. “Does Basil steal cars?”

  “Probably. In the past. I think he orders others now.” She exhaled a bit of her tension. He’d not touched her. He showed more control than a lot of men.

  “Explains how he got my name. Ninety-nine percent certain he took the address too.” He held up the van registration papers.

  “We couldn’t have been the only people to notice his El Camino yesterday. It doesn’t blend in.”

  “And that may be the only thing preventing another visit from your non-friend. Why didn’t you call the police? Or let me call them … before this?”

  “Matt.” She marched forward until her toes were within an inch of Linc’s worn sneakers, releasing a bubble of defensive anger in each step. “Basil’s minions in prison already beat my brother once. Told him it was initiation. I don’t want my brother to die. Is that wrong?”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t go all martial arts on me.” Linc opened his arms and dropped them to his sides.

  She stared into his face long and hard. Any person with brain function should understand she wouldn’t tolerate him stepping between her and Matt. She didn’t want to calculate the diminishing effect caused by their difference in height.

  A full minute later, Linc sighed and took one step back. “I think it’s time you told me exactly how your brother ended up in prison.”

  “Agreed.” She leaned against the van and concentrated on keeping her skin of strength visible. This wasn’t the conversation she’d intended for this evening but if she watched his reactions closely she should get a clue as to how much of Tami’s letter was exaggeration in the heat of the moment.

  She waited for him to toss the papers into the glove box and return to the staining project before she took a seat on an overturned pail. “It’s neither complicated nor unusual. Matt picked some wrong friends in junior high and they started with petty theft. He didn’t stop when he was caught.”

  Tomorrow at lunch. As she talked about her brother and fielded questions and comments from Linc, the deadline for a decision on the marriage proposal grew like an evening shadow.

  Chapter Ten

  Linc checked the time twice after completing his interior garden work at the insurance office. Either his personal state of mind or the unsettled weather charged the space around him, but each client this morning had managed to find something to complain about. Mondays already boasted a negative reputation; at this rate he’d be alone and dining on a frozen dinner tonight.

  He sighed and mixed it with a silent prayer for at least one thing to go well today. His call to the River County Sheriff’s Department beeped and whirred next to his ear. “This is Lincoln Dray. Can you tell me if the crime scene at five twenty-three County T has been released?”

  “One moment, please.”

  He tapped one thumb against the steering wheel in tempo to the generic piano music on his phone.

  “Mr. Dray?”

  “Yes, I’m here.” He breathed a small sigh of relief. It was the same male voice; perhaps Linc could repeat his question one less time.

  “Only a portion of that scene has been processed.”

  “I’m interested in the orchard. And the tool shed within those fenced acres.”

  Portions of mumbled words replaced music for long moments. “Do you have domestic animals in the enclosure?”

  “No, sir. Only things within the fence are apple trees, grass, and the equipment to care for them. No stock.” He frowned at the dashboard. Any law enforcement official in a rural county would have written livestock into their report. With a dozen or more officers and all the activity yesterday, animals and deputies would have come face to face. He tried during the next silence to imagine a few calves contaminating a crime scene and prancing out the gate to sniff all the vehicles and humans.

  “Good. One moment, please.”

  Linc opened his mouth to ask for a simple yes or no and closed it without a sound. Making any sort of irritating remark needed to stay at the bottom of his priorities with the sheriff’s department. He didn’t want to move up on the suspect list. They had enough to do. How many murders in River County? One every five years? Less?

  “Sir?” A new voice, female and authoritative, came on the line.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “The crime scene remains under active investigation.”

  Linc swallowed. This sounded like Sheriff Bergstrom, the same person who’d questioned him carefully yesterday. “All of it? I’d really like to have access to the orchard and tool shed. I have no interest in going into the barn or house.”

  “Check back in twenty-four hours, Mr. Dray. Your trees aren’t going to wither away before then.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll call again tomorrow. Thank you for your time.”

  Ten minutes later, Linc parked in front of the Polk Street house where Mona was working today. Casual comments from Lorraine Terrier at the greenhouse this morning had indicated enough work remained for the entire week. Maybe. No, don’t get your hopes up. He hunted for confidence. If he walked in to face Mona over lunch with a defeated attitude she’d be right to refuse marriage and demand a ride to the bus station.

  I’ll miss her. He found it more difficult each day to keep his hands off. Yesterday, it had taken all the self-control he could find when he’d glimpsed her fine tush covered by purple running shorts while her head and shoulders poked into the pantry. She stood on a fine set of legs. An
d she had eyes that he wanted to gaze into to discover the secrets of the galaxy.

  Wise up. She said all of three words over breakfast today. Not a good sign.

  “Hey.” He announced his entrance inside the utility room door.

  “You’re late.” She said it with a smile and pointed to the sink. “Wash up and I’ll put the tuna filling on the buns.”

  “Looks good.” Did he mean the table set for a picnic or the female in the jeans?

  “Lorraine went to have lunch with her husband.”

  “I figured as much when I didn’t see her Jeep.” He grabbed a towel from a drawer handle. The question of his future rested with her, the petite figure with dark, unique eyes that he wanted to learn to read. His stomach twisted in anticipation of bad news, injuring any appetite remaining after his morning. He braced his hips against the counter and faced her. “Have you made a decision? On the … marriage?”

  “I’ve been compiling a list. Some items are non-negotiable.”

  Not a flat-out “no.” He listened as his breathing returned toward normal. A moment later he joined her at the table. “We’ll start there. If you wish.”

  “Separate bedrooms.” She picked up a pencil and poised it at the first item on an agenda.

  He looked away from her face, and failed to find any response to cancel the arrangement he’d included with the initial proposal. Maybe they could hold a private negotiation at a later date. He nodded. “Next.”

  He agreed without hesitation to several items, including her desire to keep her own name.

  “Debt.” She moistened her lips with one pass of her tongue. “Everything up to the wedding day stays separate. I … won’t drag your credit down.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “My credit rating? In actual numbers?” She circled one fork tine on her paper plate. “I’ve never worked up enough courage to check. Do they go into single digits?”

  “Are you sure you’re not confusing yourself with your brother?” He took a guess that a convicted burglar would rate below a working waitress.

  “No matter. Do we keep it separate?”

  Linc reached over and placed one finger under her chin. “Look at me. Give me more than a glance.” He waited until she complied and gazed into eyes that tempted him with secrets. “I like you, Mona. I enjoy your company. I even understand a point of pride about the medical bills. I doubt I could pay them if I wanted.”

  “So you agree?”

  “For the moment.” His thumb stroked her smooth, perfect cheek. “Are you done with the list?”

  “The important items.” She blinked twice and looked away.

  “Will you keep them open to future negotiation?” He didn’t care which name she used or which job she worked. He recognized this relationship as out of the ordinary, very sudden, and too fragile to demand a shared bed. In the future? The near future? How many more nights would he survive mentally undressing her before falling into a restless sleep?

  “I can do that.”

  “In that case.” He stood, went to her, and tugged her to her feet. Heat poured from her hands, warming his arms until he glanced down to see if they glowed. He fumbled with a mouth as dry as fall leaves for a long moment. “Mary Monica “call me Mona” Smith. Will you marry me?”

  She squeezed both of his hands before fixing him with a wide-eyed stare. Muscle by muscle her lips moved into a smile. “Yes.”

  • • •

  Mona gazed into gray eyes that lightened into a smile. My fiancé. What have I done?

  “Thank you.” The joy swept over his face quicker than a blush. “May I?”

  She stood still, processing the verbal exchange, lost in her own answer. Then his lips touched hers, brushed her smile, and lingered.

  Comfort. Safety. She closed her eyes and molded her lips against his warm flesh. Perfect fit. “Mmmm.”

  He released her mouth and she started to object. Then he returned. Firm. Seeking. The tip of his tongue searched along the seam of her mouth, unzipping reluctant muscles.

  Her hands skimmed up his arms and continued until they laced on the back of his neck. She breathed in delicate flavors of parsley and celery seed mixed with warm promise. Time stretched, every instant of the kiss, every point of contact between them burrowing into her memory.

  “Agreed.” He retreated a few inches, breaking the spell.

  Mona leaned forward and rested her head against his chest. Rapid, steady throbs matched her runaway heart. She blinked his shoes into focus. “That was … special.”

  He nuzzled the top of her head, and pulled her close with arms that circled her waist. “Understatement.”

  Trust and a smile sent doubt scurrying off to a dark corner. The answer, the one she’d been ready to discard a moment before it passed her lips, coated her mouth with contentment. Desire stirred low in her body and sent a ripple of heat to her fingers caressing the back of his neck. She wanted—needed—more.

  He eased away and placed one finger on her orphaned lower lip. “Mona.”

  She brought her hands to his chest and laid them flat against muscles hidden by too much cloth. What happened? She didn’t consider herself a novice at kisses. Since age fifteen she’d dated a dozen or more boys. More often than not she’d enjoyed their kissing and caressing. Or at least she’d thought so. Until a moment ago. Or an hour?

  “I … I …” Linc covered her right hand with his left. “Work.”

  A car door slammed, jerking a portion of her mind back to reality. They stood in the middle of a kitchen, in a house she was cleaning, and the estate executer would walk through the door any minute now.

  She swallowed, pressed her lips for an instant, and found a trace of his flavor. Reality squeezed into the room. “Yes. Work.” Don’t let go. “What happens now?”

  “Immediately?” He lifted one of her hands with a soft grip and guided it toward his mouth. “I’ll make a call this afternoon. I know a man with the credentials to marry us.”

  “And?” She drew in a deep breath and held it as he licked her index finger.

  “Do you have a birth certificate?”

  Do that again. A few brain cells paused on logical. She forced her mind to picture the papers scattered on the bed before she’d collected them during her hasty departure. “I think so.”

  “We’ll be at the courthouse when it opens in the morning.”

  “You’re not wasting time.”

  “Time’s important. Wisconsin has a waiting period.”

  The reminder of his deadline, the entire reason for their marriage, slapped against her face like winter air. This was a business transaction. She had agreed to a mutual living agreement to satisfy the terms of a will. The kiss must be an aberration. She dared not forget her real position in his life: public wife and private—friend. “Of course. You’ll have time to spare.”

  “Two days.”

  She blinked away surprise at his abrupt, no nonsense statement. “You can count on me. I keep my word.”

  “And which word would that be?” Lorraine stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a wide smile on her face.

  “Would you like to attend a wedding?” Linc lowered her hand without releasing it and turned toward the new arrival. “I’m thinking Sunday evening or Monday morning. It will depend on when my friend Ben is available.”

  “Congratulations. I enjoy weddings.” Lorraine advanced a few steps and pulled Linc and then Mona into brief, warm hugs.

  Mona followed Linc to the van a few moments later. Desire for another kiss, to test if her memory fooled her, wrestled with the need for practical matters. “I’ll see you at the greenhouse?”

  “That’s the plan.” He turned beside the open door. “I’ll call Ben and set a time to talk with him.”

  “And I’ll check for the paperwork when we get back to your place.”

  He reached out and hooked a ponytail escapee behind her ear. “Thank you.”

  Her breath stuttered at the gentle gesture. “Drive safe
.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Basil checked the time and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He’d been watching the greenhouse entrance from this position for more than an hour now. He rolled his shoulders, walked one circle around the faded red sedan, and raised the binoculars again. The only visible activity this late afternoon consisted of one couple loading half a dozen large pots into their SUV and driving away.

  Where was Dray? How late did he work? In a few minutes it would be six, past time for any of the clients he’d gathered as references to close. When his phone vibrated he quickly pulled it out and checked the number. Nick again. “Talk to me.”

  “We got a problem, boss.”

  Basil sighed. Both sunshine and rain were problems to Nick. Why Basil planned to put him in charge this week he’d never know. Except that his other employees showed even fewer management skills. “Explain.”

  “The busboy … from Hiawatha’s Griddle.”

  “I know the one.” Broken nose, a busted rib or two, and a couple of lost minutes courtesy of his fists early Saturday morning had prompted his visit to Daniel.

  “His manager took him to one of those urgent care places. And now the police are asking questions.”

  “You don’t know anything. You haven’t seen me all day.”

  “Got it. And, boss—”

  “Out with it, Nick. I’m working.” He raised the binoculars as a Jeep Cherokee halted in front of the greenhouse.

  “Will we be getting more product before Friday night?”

  “Make all the usual arrangements.” Basil ended the call before Nick could bother him with another question. He had enough reserve supply hidden in his office, including two kilos of Molly capsules direct from Daniel’s lab to last more than one week.

  A few more days, an arrest of another party—Mr. Lincoln Dray, for example—for Daniel Larson’s murder, and he’d gather up Kevin and move. North Dakota was full of new money and fresh residents. He’d find a safe place for his brother and attempt honest work for the first time in his life.