Donnell Ann Bell

by Donnell Ann Bell

  “Pot roast, mashed potatoes, creamed gravy...”

  “Stop. You’re making my mouth water. I know the warden likes you. I didn’t realize your feelings were reciprocal. He must be pretty special to warrant such a feast.”

  She laughed. “Jealous?”

  “Green.” Joe grinned, noting her jab was payback for his accusation on Thursday. “So if there’s really nothing between you two, maybe you could invite me to join you for dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “If I have to go to the game by myself, the least you can do is feed me.”

  “Before I came along, Joe Crandall, you always went to the game by yourself. What are you up to?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Why would you want to have dinner with Simon and me?”

  “One, Matt tells me you’re a great cook. Two, maybe I want to size up my competition.”

  The laughter was back. “Who says he’s competition? And what makes you think you stand a chance?”

  “Ouch, Mel, that hurt. I kind of liked kissing you Thursday night. I was hoping to do it again sometime. So would Simon mind?”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Completely.”

  She hesitated, and Joe knew she was waiting for him to say ‘never mind.’ She was out of luck. And then it occurred to him. He didn’t make an ass out of himself for just any woman.

  She sighed. “Honestly? I wouldn’t think so, then again, Joe, maybe it’s not―”

  “Let’s find out. If Simon objects too strenuously, I’ll take the hint and leave. What do you say?”

  “Oh, all right, five o’clock.”

  “Great. See you then. Sure you won’t come help me shop for mattresses?”

  He received her answer by way of dead air.

  “Mel, what you do to a place.”

  Pleased that Simon noticed, Mel stood in the doorway as he surveyed her recently faux-painted living room. One of the specialty wreaths a customer had ordered had turned out so well, she’d made one for herself. It hung over the fireplace. As for the hearth, she’d trimmed it with white freeze-dried gardenias interlaced with gold leaf pinecones, eucalyptus and salal. Between work, school, basketball practice and life, she and Luke had decorated the tree. His childhood ornaments hung on the branches, the scent of pine filled the air and the house she’d been so reluctant to buy indeed seemed like home.

  Simon touched the leaf of a spider plant hanging next to the sofa. “Imagine what you could do on a greater budget.”

  Holding her hands out, she laughed. “Probably grow more plants.”

  He grinned and said, “Where’s Luke?”

  Her smile faded. “He wanted to be here, Simon. But the coach requires the players to be at the gym early. Luke really wants to see you. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do. I’ll see him tonight.” He linked his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Something smells good.”

  “I hope so. Dinner’s not quite ready. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Beer if you have it. I want to hear what’s been going on in your life.”

  They sat on the sofa and chatted amiably, for the most part sharing information they already knew. The warden appeared antsy and out of his element, and for the first time ever, she considered Joe’s idiotic statement that Simon might be attracted to her. Lord knew she was nervous, but for an entirely different reason.

  Their awkward silence was broken only when Simon cleared his throat. “What about Colorado Springs? Do you like it?”

  “It’s definitely bigger, but I’m finding my way around. Luke seems happy and we love the house. All in all, it’s been a good move... thanks to you.”

  “I’d have done anything for Carl, you know that.” Simon’s brows knit together. “I’d like to think you and I have become friends as well.”

  “Without a doubt.” She smiled uneasily. Who knew? Without the warden’s assistance, she might’ve been in Drake Maxwell’s clutches even now.

  “If I have one regret,” Simon went on, “it’s that I let you down. If I had any idea that cop lived next door...”

  Oh, God. He was going to bring up Joe.

  “When that police lieutenant came to my office, Mel, he was as determined as any man I’ve ever met. You understand I had no choice but to tell him, don’t you? And, of course, about Maxwell.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “It all worked out. It’s over now.”

  “I have to say I don’t care for his machinations. He’s probably the type who uses them to advance his career. But since I can’t be here, I suppose Crandall’s the next best thing.”

  She arched a brow. Next time Joe provoked her beyond reason, she’d refer to him as the next best thing. Envisioning the reaction she’d get from that remark, she smirked. “Joe’s not a bad guy when you get to know him.”

  The warden’s eyes narrowed. “You call him Joe now?”

  Immediately, she felt a charge in the atmosphere. She rose from the couch. “Our boys have become great friends. Lt. Crandall asked me to call him Joe.”

  “You see him frequently then?” Simon stood as well.

  “Luke and Matt play on the same team. Of course, I see Joe.”

  “Melanie, I think you should stay away from him. To be honest, I’m not certain he’s all that good a cop. Personally, I don’t like him very much.”

  The timer went off on the stove. Never had she been so ready for an interruption. Joe should be here by now. Maybe he wouldn’t show. Or maybe he hadn’t planned on coming in the first place. Perhaps he’d only finagled a dinner invitation to annoy her. Please, God. One could only hope.

  They walked into the kitchen where Simon’s gaze fell to the extra place setting on the table. “I thought Luke couldn’t be here.”

  The doorbell rang, and she jumped. Pressing a hand to her chest, Mel turned to the warden and sighed. “He can’t, Simon. Please. Sit down. That man you don’t like very much is joining us for dinner.”

  Much to Mel’s surprise and annoyance, Joe kissed her cheek when he walked through the door. Simon’s eyes grew wide and a flush made its way up his neck.

  Gazing between them uncertainly, she said, “I believe you two know each other.”

  “Warden,” Joe greeted him.

  “Lieutenant.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me joining you,” Joe said. “Melanie was nice enough to ask.”

  She turned a shocked gaze to his.

  He winked. “And I’m very grateful.”

  She flashed the big jerk her best behave-yourself-look. “Let’s eat so we’re not late to the game.”

  But it wasn’t to be. Over dinner, as Simon and Joe stared at each other, Mel quite simply wanted to die. Their remarks had been hostile from the start. The pot roast she’d slow cooked to perfection tasted like cardboard in her mouth.

  “You been busy, Warden?”

  She looked from one man to the other. Okay, this was better. Asking about each other’s jobs had to be a safe topic.

  “Very,” Simon replied. “Mel, this is a fantastic meal. I read about the robberies, Lieutenant. If you and your team can’t apprehend the culprits, perhaps you should ask for state or federal assistance.”

  Joe’s mouth formed a tight line. “We’ll get ‘em. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Simon.” Mel placed a hand on his arm. “Out of forty-five boys, and as young as Luke and Matt are, they both made Varsity.”

  “That’s wonderful, Mel.” Simon refocused on Joe. “How many robberies have there been now, Lieutenant? Six?”

  “Five,” he replied.

  Oh, dear God. Joe’s clamped jaw reminded her of an electrical wire set to snap. Helples
sly, she studied the men as they engaged in a bizarre verbal battle. “Joe, please,” she murmured under her breath.

  He turned to her. “The warden’s right, Mel. If the robberies go unsolved, it could hurt my career. How about those unexplained budget overruns, Warden? There’s been talk of embezzlement.”

  A practiced political smile formed on Simon’s lips, but his eyes shone with hostility. “Indeed. We’re investigating the matter.”

  Mel threw down her napkin and glared between the men. “This is your idea of a pleasant dinner? What’s wrong with you two?” She unleashed her anger on Joe. “You just had to come, didn’t you? Fine. Sit there and insult each other. But I’m not going to sit here and watch it.”

  Mel’s rapid footfalls sounded on the stairs, followed by the very loud bang of an overhead door.

  “That was the rudest display I’ve ever witnessed,” the warden said. “I can’t believe you intruded on my time with Melanie.”

  “I had to,” Joe said. “I need information.”

  “So you bulldozed your way in here? Next time, pick up the phone.”

  “Does she know how you feel about her, Warden?”

  “Does she know how you feel, Lieutenant?”

  “She has an idea. Are you aware that a corrections officer by the name of Jesse Ropes was murdered in Cañon City?”

  Simon nodded. “It’s been the talk for days. But it didn’t happen at a prison facility or in your jurisdiction, so why your concern?”

  “Because Ropes worked at the Colorado State Pen, the same place Maxwell was incarcerated.”

  “So?” Simon wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin on his plate. “Maxwell’s gone.”

  “Are you positive? Have the police any leads?”

  Simon sighed and placed his elbows on the table. “Ropes had a gambling problem, a big one. The police suspect his creditors got to him. That or...” A look formed over the warden’s face as though his next thoughts were repugnant to him.

  “Or?” Joe pressed.

  “The night of Ropes’ murder, he held a poker party. Ten corrections officers were in attendance. Jesse Ropes wasn’t especially liked, and the men in attendance haven’t been fully cleared of any involvement.”

  Armed with these different and more probable scenarios, the tightness that had lodged in Joe’s chest all day lessened. It also explained Warden River’s reluctance to talk.

  “Drake Maxwell’s not in Colorado. I personally sent a man to watch him board a plane.”

  “He could’ve come back.”

  “For what reason?”

  “Don’t give me that. He could’ve discovered Melanie’s whereabouts.”

  “Then he’d have to be psychic. You’ve seen the lengths I’ve gone to keep things quiet. With the exception of you, I’ve told no one her location.”

  “What about Luke?” Joe asked. “Has he been in touch with his former classmates?”

  “Mel only recently bought him a cell phone. And even if he used it to keep in touch with old friends, I don’t think Maxwell knows she has a son. How would he make the connection?”

  “Guards talk to the convicts, Warden. Surely Maxwell knows something.”

  “Correctional officers keep their mouths shut, particularly about their families. It’s ingrained in them from the day they accept employment. If they don’t, they don’t work for the DOC.” Simon pushed back his chair. “It seems you ruined our dinner for nothing.”

  Having gotten what he’d come for, Joe stood. He was, however, unimpressed by River’s arrogance. No matter how much confidentiality was stressed, there was always a weak link in the system. “It appears I owe you and Melanie an apology. Will you do one thing for me?”

  “I don’t know why I should, but if it’ll make you leave, gladly.”

  “Find out if Ropes knew Maxwell... for Melanie’s sake.”

  “It’ll be a waste of time, but I guess I can do that much.”

  “Great.” Joe handed Simon his card. “I’ll let myself out. Enjoy the game.”

  “You’re not going?”

  Joe shook his head, regretting the way he’d manipulated Melanie to come by the information. But if it meant keeping her safe, he’d do it again. The realization of how much she’d come to mean to him stunned him. “Not tonight. I think Mel’s stomached about as much of me as she can stand.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Simon had been cool after dinner, courteous during the game, then pensive on the drive home from Coronado. Mel wanted to talk to him, to explain Joe’s reprehensible behavior that afternoon, but simply had no understanding of why he’d gone to such lengths to humiliate her or embarrass Simon.

  He drew to the curb, cut the engine, and suddenly she didn’t want to explain anything. She gazed out the window at her quiet little house and wanted to be inside, the whole episode forgotten.

  “Your son’s a superstar, Melanie. I wish Carl could’ve seen him play.” Simon made the statement without smiling.

  “Thank you. Every time Luke steps on the court, I wish the same thing.”

  Her husband’s longtime friend leaned back against the headrest. He looked tired, older. “Do you trust me, Mel?”

  At a loss to understand such a ludicrous statement, she said, “Excuse me?”

  “Do you think I’d ever steer you in the wrong direction?”

  “Would I have gone through all of this if I did?”

  He shook his head. “Then hear me out. Part of my job as warden is dealing with statistics. I see men and women returned to the system more often than those who go straight. On average it happens in months, not years, oftentimes weeks.”

  Her throat went dry, the subject too close, and not at all to her liking. She’d beaten the statistics, hadn’t she? She gripped the armrest. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “When Carl got sick, and he and I hatched this plan, we discussed these numbers. We agreed that Maxwell was the type who, once on the outside, would resort to his old habits.”

  Hope surged within her. “You think he’ll commit a crime and go back to prison?”

  The warden shrugged. “He had every opportunity growing up. Maxwell wasn’t a kid who came from nothing and acted out of desperation. From the beginning, he felt like the world owed him something. Yes. I think he’ll end up back in the system.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” She wanted to cry out in relief.

  “Absolutely. If you keep your head down.”

  Frustration tightened her chest. “What do you think I’ve been doing? I’ve done everything you’ve asked. Left my home, my friends―”

  “Do you have any idea how many people you talked to tonight?”

  The more games she’d attended, the more people she’d gotten to know. “Five, ten, maybe? They’re the players’ parents, Simon.”

  “I don’t care if they’re cloistered nuns. You need to keep a low profile. Unfortunately, your son is going to bring you unwanted attention.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “When I said superstar, I didn’t mean it as idle praise. Luke came off the bench and scored twelve points in one quarter. If that coach doesn’t make him a starter, he’s a foolish man. If the papers don’t make something of this boy, then they’re blind.”

  Mel held up her hands. “What has this got to do with Drake Maxwell?”

  “Nothing, if he goes back to prison soon like we anticipate. It’s if he doesn’t that concerns me. Each day that he’s out gives him more opportunity to find you. Luke’s a sophomore. Right now, hundreds of college scouts are taking notes. Soon they’ll be tracking this kid, taking pictures, writing reports―”

  “Of Luke, not me,” she said, her voice rising.

  “They’ll want quotes from the parents, personal
interest stuff. When they hear about this fatherless boy, living with his stepmother, the press will gobble him up.”

  “Are you suggesting I make him quit?”

  Simon brushed a hand through his short military-cut hair. “God, no.”

  “Then what would you have me do?”

  “Be more standoffish. If someone wants to include you in the photograph, become camera shy.”

  Mel glanced out the window. In other words, remain in prison. She’d been so proud tonight, reveling in the praise of her son, and in talking to people who genuinely seemed to like her as well.

  “And for God’s sake stay away from Crandall,” Simon added.

  Mel twisted to meet his gaze. “I thought you liked the idea that a cop lived next door.”

  “I did. Until I realized you were forming an attachment to him. You looked for him the entire night, do you realize that? Tell me something. Are you sleeping with him?”

  Her pulse quickened and heat shot to her face. “How dare you ask me that? I couldn’t believe he would miss his son’s game, that’s all. Not that it’s any of your business, but we do not have that kind of a relationship.”

  “Finally, something that makes sense. If you’re thinking there could be something more between you, prepare to be disappointed.”

  To hell with self-control, she made her fury visible. “Not that I’m looking for anything permanent, but why is that?”

  “The divorce rate for cops is astronomical. Same for alcoholism, domestic violence, nervous breakdowns. The stress they’re under, do you think they turn it off in the driveway?” Simon studied her. “Of course not. They bring it home to their families.”

  She wasn’t a total fool. Every word he described was true. She’d had a taste of that lifestyle being married to Carl.

  The interior of Simon’s Explorer became deathly still. Finally, he said, “Lt. Crandall already has one strike against him. He’s divorced.” Staring up at the ceiling, the warden blew out a long breath. “He’s a walk away, Melanie.”

  If Simon had punched her, he couldn’t have inflicted more pain. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me.”