by Lisa Clancey
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The drive back to my place felt menacing. It took an hour to get home. Okay, in actuality, it only took thirty-five minutes; it only felt like an hour. Rick passed me on Hwy 107, and Brandon stayed behind me. I was sandwiched in. What was I going to do? Make a run for it? I wanted to go back to my apartment. I wanted to go back alone, but still, I wasn’t going to run away.
I think they enjoyed playing these games. I drove the speed limit, which was probably very aggravating for Rick. I was sure he thought I was going to try to race him back. I don’t think so. He knew a lot more about defensive driving than I did. I drove offensively not defensively. I could offend even when I wasn’t trying. A good example of that took place in Rick’s home.
The creep at my apartment was starting to piss me off. Now he was invading my personal space. Why couldn’t he follow me around like normal psychos do? Better question, how did he know where I lived? Obviously, duh, he followed me. Why didn’t I notice him following me? He could have borrowed another car. This was getting me nowhere, and I was scaring myself to death. I was quite comfortable driving between Brandon and Rick. Okay, now I sounded like a liar because I had just said I didn’t want them to check out my apartment. I still didn’t, but it wasn’t a whole lot I was going to do about it now.
Rick had slowed down following a slower car, so I changed lanes to go around. Rick changed lanes. Brandon changed lanes behind him. We passed the slower car, and I returned to the right lane. Rick and Brandon changed lanes along with me. This could be fun so I changed lanes a few more times to see if they’d follow suit. Sure enough, they did. And then it was time to choose to exit off the highway I was on or exit to Fulton, which goes into Alexandria. I thought about playing games by turning on my signal and then going straight but decided it wasn’t worth the headache later. I followed Rick to Fulton. Sometimes I was just no fun.
I started thinking about the people I had already interviewed about the missing painting. None of these people acted like they knew anything about the painting. But they could be Oscar winning actors and actresses as far as I knew. Well, no actually, they didn’t lie because Sister Bonita had the painting all along. Get your head together Chloe. I alone knew something was hidden at the Old Shloe Farm. What? I didn’t have a clue. Could this maniac be someone else I offended? Could be. As I said before, it could be from an old case. Someone whose divorce was final and they weren’t happy with the results. Hidden money could have just come out of a safe deposit box, and the ex-spouse didn’t want to share. I didn’t think any of my old cases were very profitable. But then again, thatwas why they called it hidden money.
Speaking of hidden money. I wonder if that’s what was hidden. Was it money? Was it gems? Or was it just some old family heirlooms. If it were family heirlooms, someone would be mighty disappointed. It would serve them right, though, for killing one man and wounding another and shooting at me. Man, I hated being shot at. Remind me to take a potty break before anyone takes a swipe at me again.
My phone rang when we were still about a mile away.
“What, Rick.” I still wasn’t happy with him thinking he had to babysit me.
“Park near Cheri’s place and when we clear the area I’ll come get you.”
“Fine, but don’t call in the plate number. You should let me call Cody or Dick Weed.”
“Alright. Call Reed. It’s his case.”
He said, “Bye,” but I didn’t, I just disconnected. Childish yes, but very satisfying.
I parked away from my apartment and waited and invented all kinds of things that could be happening. I heard noises and even thought I heard someone running toward me. Nope. Nothing was happening. It was all my imagination. That was exactly what I told myself. I didn’t get nervous while waiting in the dark for a cheating significant other. But then, they didn’t usually want to kill me at that point. That usually came later. I tried leaning my head back on the headrest and closing my eyes. No. That made it worse; my other senses took over. I was straining my eyes and ears so hard that when Rick knocked on my window, I yelped and jumped. My heart was beating out of my chest. Good Lord, I wish he wouldn’t have done that.
Rick grinned and waited for me to open my door. “Scare you?”
“No. I always jump like that while sitting in my truck. It’s really great for the core.” I was so sarcastic. I loved that about me.
Brandon laughed and said, “The lot is clear, no ones sitting in the Silverado, but be careful while entering your apartment.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Rick’s gonna let me walk in my apartment without throwing me against the wall first and then ordering me to stay put,” I said rolling my eyes.
The men laughed and agreed to that.
“Pinning her against the wall sounds fun,” Rick said and laughed while he waggled his eyebrows.
“Speaking of that, bro, you shouldn’t yell ‘I love you’ to a woman. You need to say it a lot more romantic. Especially, if it’s the first time you say it.” Brandon grinned and winked at me.
“Yeah, good advice Brand. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, I know, it’s usually because when you tell a woman you love her, she’s usually not yelling that she hates you,” Rick said looking hard at me trying hard not to grin.
I ignored them both and instead asked, “Did you write down the plate number so I could call Dick Weed?”
“Yeah, I have it. I’ll give it to you inside,” Rick said patting his pocket.
“Did you say Dick Weed?” Brandon was confused looking from me to Rick.
“Dick Weed is Chloe’s little nickname for Det. Richard Reed,” Rick said while shaking his head.
“Oh, yeah, I know him. He’s not that bad is he?” Brandon laughed.
“That depends if you’re a woman,” I said dryly.
“Okaay. I’m going now. Stay safe.” He and Rick grabbed hands and gave each other a man half hug. He grinned at me and handed my gun back to me while saying, “Nice meeting you, Chloe. Let’s do this again sometime sans weapons.”
I didn’t answer I just smirked and narrowed my eyes. He laughed and walked off.
Rick took my hand and walked me to his truck to get his duffle bag. Was he holding my hand…?
“Are you holding my hand, so I won’t run off to my apartment and lock you out?”
“You wouldn’t do that would you?” he asked tilting his head and raising his eyebrows.
Probably. “No, I wouldn’t do that.” Hell yes.
After retrieving his bag, we walked to my apartment. Rick told me to wait by the door so he could check out the rest of the apartment. I then called Cheri to tell her Rick, and his brother checked out the lot, and my apartment and all was well.
After that, I called Cody to get Dick Weed’s number. This was gonna be fun. Maybe next I’d remove my own tonsils. Oh wait, I couldn’t do that. I’d already had my tonsils taken out.
“Hey, Chloe. What’s up?” Cody sounded like he was still in a good mood. Let’s hope he stays this way.
“Hey Cody, how was the party?” First chit chat, soften him up.
“It was fun. The kids are exhausted. They’re sound asleep.” I bet they’re exhausted they were just getting over tonsillitis. I wouldn’t mention that.
“That’s good. No fighting sleep tonight. But there is another reason I called.”
“Thought it might be.” Okay, his friendliness is fading. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m gonna ignore that and come right to the point. What is Dick Weed’s number?” He ticked me off. He acts like I never call to see how they were doing. I often call if I knew the kids have been sick.
“Why?” It wasn’t really a question.
“Because I miss his charming personality.” He was silent, waiting. “Okay, the real reason is that I know a woman that has really ticked me off and I want to get her back by setting her up with Dick Weed.” I looked over at Rick, and he was grinning. I was grinning as well. Suzanne didn’t tick me off th
at much.
“You know I could almost believe that. But I don’t. What’s the real reason?”
“Okay, okay the real reason is…”
“Chloe!” I had to give in and tell him. He was starting to get ticked
“There’s a silver Silverado in my parking lot, and I want him to run the plate since it’s his case. And don’t bother to come over. I’m in my apartment safe and sound.” I didn’t want him to come to my apartment, so I added, “You know you don’t have to check things out here, Dick Weed will want to do the same thing. So let him do it. You stay home and get some rest. You sound tired too.”
He thought about it for a few seconds and then said, “Alright, but call me when he leaves.”
I agreed, smiled, wrote down the number he gave me.
“It’s good to see I’m not the only one you give a hard time to,” Rick said and smiled.
“I only do that to the ones I care about.” Oh, no I didn’t. He was grinning. Oh, yes I did. “Not that I care about you,” I said to cover my goof. He was still grinning. Crap.
I called Dick.
“Hello?” I wondered if he answered because he didn’t recognize my number.
“Dick Weed, I need you to run a plate on a silver Silverado that’s parked in my parking lot near my apartment.” No chit chat.
“How did you get my number? Or did you always have it?” The pompous jerk.
“I called my favorite brother. And it is your case, moron.”
“I love the way you sweet talk me, Chloe.”
I gave him the number and waited for him to find a pad to write it on. And then I repeated it so he could write it down.
“Where are you? Are you at your apartment or did you notice it while you were leaving for a date? Oh, my bad. You aren’t dating anyone. No one can put up with you longer than ten minutes.”
“Good one, Dick Weed. Did you come up with that one by yourself or did Rosy tell you and you had to wait for just the right moment to say it to me.”
“I love our talks, Chloe. I’ll send a patrol car around to your apartment to check out the lot. What’s your apartment number so he can let you know when it’s safe?”
I gave him the number, and we hung up.
“Do you and Reed really dislike each other that much or is it just for show?”
“I really don’t know. It could be a habit.” I shrugged. “We’ve been at this for so long; I haven’t really thought about it. I do know I wouldn’t set him up with anyone I knew whether I disliked her or not.”
He just shook his head and went to the sofa to watch TV. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t want to go to my bedroom. I didn’t want to stay in the living room with him. I went to my bedroom to change my clothes. I put on my jammies and was nice and comfortable. He glanced at me as I sat in the recliner but continued to watch TV. I suppose he liked my Winnie the Pooh jammies. In the winter I wear T-shirt and flannel pajama pants. I left my socks on and threw a throw blanket over my shoulders. I just thought it was something I should do especially since a cop was going to knock on my door and I didn’t own a robe. It was a little cool in my apartment, but I didn’t raise the heat. I like it cool when I sleep. Actually, I was cold, but I had taken off my sweater, so I was glad I wrapped up in my blanket. That was probably why he was looking at my T-shirt. He could tell I was cold.
About ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Rick stood behind the door with his gloc in his hand. I called, “Who is it?” and looked out the peephole.
“Officer Jeansonne,” was the reply. Sure enough, it was a police officer.
I opened the door, and a middle-aged woman was standing there smiling. “Hi, officer.”
“Hi. Are you Ms. Babineaux?” I nodded, and she continued, “I checked the lot. It seems clear. I didn’t see anyone. It’s a quiet night. Could I see some ID?”
“Sure.” I left her at the door while I retrieved my wallet with my driver’s license.
“Did you run the plate?” I asked her while showing her my ID.
“Yes. It’s registered to Glenna Boudreaux. Do you know her?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’ve never heard of her.” She wasn’t on my list of names Petunia gave me. I was pretty sure of that. I had gone through that list many times, and Boudreaux wasn’t on it. Boudreaux was the name of the Defense instructor that attacked me at the Police Academy, so yeah, I’d remember that name.
“Probably just someone visiting, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Officer Jeansonne was very convincing. But Officer Jeansonne hadn’t had anyone shooting at her recently.
“You’re probably right, and I’ve had enough excitement. I wouldn’t have called, but if anything happened to me, Cody would be really pissed.”
She laughed, said, “Have a good night,” and walked away.
I closed the door and walked to my bedroom to get pillow and blanket for Rick. I walked back to the living room and threw it down on the sofa and sat down in the recliner again. This was going to be a long night. I wanted it over with so I could get Monday over with. I was excited about it, but I was also fuming about how this evening was shaping up.
I got up again and called Cody and told him about Officer Jeansonne and that all was clear.
I sat down on the sofa again, glared at Rick and asked, “Why do you love me?”
“Beats the hell out of me,” he said without looking at me, keeping his eyes on the TV he had turned on while waiting for the police officer.
We were quiet. I was quiet because I wanted to jump up and beat the shit out of him but I knew I would lose. I didn’t know why he was quiet. What did he mean, ‘Beats the hell out of me?’ Does he tell women he loves them without meaning it? We already had sex, so why bother saying I love you now?
“It sounds like a cliché, but you’re different. You don’t want me because of what I am. You wanted to be with me because of who I am. Some women just want to marry a SEAL, and some want to marry a cop. You don’t ask me a thousand questions about being a SEAL, and you already know what it’s like to be around cops. Sometimes when women find out I’m human, I have emotions, and I need to talk things out it bothers them that I’m not emotionless.” He looked over at me and slightly smiled. “Besides, being with you is never a dull moment.”
“I don’t understand. What makes you think I care?” I didn’t care, but what makes him think I did? Because I didn’t. And what did he mean by never a dull moment?
“When you found out I was shot, you asked me how it happened and who shot me. You didn’t ask me if I shot them back or how many men have I shot? You also talked to me about being captured. You didn’t just say, ‘Boy, I bet that hurt. Let’s have sex.’ You would have talked more but I can’t say anymore, and you didn’t press me on it.” He paused, and I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say.
So I didn’t say anything. What could I say? I was curious about his capture, but he was right; I knew he couldn’t say anything about it. Dang. Why did he make me feel this way? I knew what I could have said, but I wasn’t going to. Not right then anyway.
Instead, I asked, “What about Suzanne? She didn’t seem to care about your career.” He didn’t sleep with her which I still thought odd.
He took a deep breath, switched channels on the TV and said, “Yeah, you’d think I would have. I mean, what was I thinking? You saw her body, right? But I didn’t.” He turned his head to me and said, “You see, I met a few men who have a wife and kids they can’t wait to go home to. They have a reason to go home. Yeah, it might be a mad house because of homework, ball games, and a cranky wife. His wife’s cranky because she’s helping with homework or refereeing kids and cooking dinner at the same time. Or even if his wife’s at work when he gets home and he has to do all that, it doesn’t matter because he’s home.” He paused a few minutes and then continued. “Home is very grounding. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done that day or how many lives you saved because to your kids you’re Daddy and to your wi
fe you’re her husband.” He paused, and neither of us said anything, and then he added, “If I’d had sex with Suzanne it would’ve been just sex. Sex is good. But I want more than that.” What made him think I wanted more than sex? Oh yeah, we slept together twice without having sex.
We were silent while watching CNN for a few minutes and then he added, “When I was captured all I wanted to do was die. I wanted them to kill me and get it over with.” He shook his head and turned to me. “But I didn’t die. I withstood all…everything. I only wanted to die when I was alone. When I was being tortured, I wanted to live so I could kill them.” He turned back to the TV. “I prayed and talked to myself and imaginary buddies. I kept telling myself that I would either eventually die or I would be rescued. That’s why I want more out of life than just sex. I know there’s more to life than meaningless sex. I want someone to come home to and love me as much as I love her.”
Wow. What could I say? I didn’t know if I could give him all that. Let’s face it. I couldn’t cook that well. Did I want the domestic life? At one time I did. But now…? “Okay, I understand. And that explains so much to me. What I need is a wife.” I had to grip the chair, so I wouldn’t jump up and grab him with both hands and not let go. I was hoping he couldn’t see my tears. But I knew he could hear it in my voice.
He laughed and said, “And you make me laugh.” I gave him a weak watery smile.
“Felicia wanted to know if your friends thought they were slutty and wanted to have sex with them.” There you go Chloe, change the subject.
“My friends always wanna have sex. But they didn’t think your friends were slutty. In fact, they want to come back for a visit when their mission is over.”
“How do you know?”
“You were talking to your friends when they told me.”
“Your friends should have said something to my friends. But now I’m not too sure. I mean, they’ll come all this way for a dinner and a movie and then leave again.”
“Let them work it out,” he said still watching TV. Was he mad at me? Probably. He said he loved me and I didn’t say it back.
“Rick…? I’m going to bed.” I couldn’t say it. Why? I knew I loved him. I slept with him three times, and we only had sex once. He didn’t come on like a force of nature, but his lovemaking was. Did he think I was this fragile thing or a whacko? After my assault, people treated me like I was fragile and I hated it. I would rather people think of me as a whacko. “Why didn’t you try to make love to me the first two times we slept together?”
“It wasn’t time. The first time I made love to you was going to be more than about sex.” I looked over at him, and he was smiling. I made a faux pas. I said make love instead of sex.
I walked to my bedroom, brushed my teeth and climbed into bed. I stared at the ceiling. The ceiling didn’t say much. I got up and looked out the window that was facing boring businesses. That view was depressing. I got back into bed and laid on my right side. I lay on my left side. I returned to my back. I lay on my stomach. I really didn't like sleeping on my stomach, so it was back to staring at the ceiling.
“Ahhh!” I couldn’t sleep.
The bedroom door was thrown open, and Rick was standing there with his big-ass gun in his hand. He leaned against the door frame and asked, “Is there a problem?”
My heart had skipped several beats, and I jumped so high I fell out of bed. I sat on the floor and said accusingly, “You scared the hell out of me. And I thought I heard a panther outside my window.”
“A panther. Outside your window on the second floor in urban Alexandria,” he said dryly.
“Yeah. I heard they can jump high. This one must have followed you from your house.”
He walked over to the window and looked out. “Nope. No panther.”
“Good. I should be able to sleep now.” I pushed myself off the floor and sat on the bed.
“Glad I could help.” He walked to the doorway and was pulling the door closed when I stopped him. “Rick…”
He stopped and turned toward me. We looked at each other for several seconds, and then he said, “Ask me, Chloe. You told me to not set foot in your bed.” My heart was beating a mile a minute.
“It’s not your foot I want. You could just stand on the side,” I said and grinned.
“Uh-uh. Ask me.” He was still leaning against the door frame looking all sexy in his T-shirt and sports shorts. Obviously, he had changed for bed.
“Rick, will you…? I mean…I’ve never asked…look you’ve had four hundred women, and I’ve haven’t had many, well okay, I’m lying I’ve had one. I don’t have the experience you have inviting someone to bed.”
“Oh hell, Chloe.” He took one step and jumped landing beside me. “I couldn’t stand there any longer anyway. I was coming in here whether you eventually got the words out or not.”
“I wish you would’ve done that before I started stumbling around trying to figure out what to say.”
“I thought it was sweet and I haven’t had four hundred women,” he said while nuzzling my neck.
“Okay. My bad, three hundred women.”
He laughed and said, “Let’s not talk about that now, but I do have a question.”
Uh oh, that may not be a good thing, he stopped nuzzling. I didn’t answer I just turned my eyes to him.
“The man you slept with. Was it Johnny?” He had placed his hand over my breast and started circling my nipple with his thumb.
My breathing started getting deeper and faster. Why was he asking me this? Was he jealous? “Why?”
“You’d never had an orgasm before me, had you?” he asked with a deep raspy voice.
“Oh God!” I whispered and tried to get up but was pushed back down.
“Whoa, where are you going?”
“You want a woman with more experience, don’t you? I’m not very good,” I said while trying to push his arm off me.
“What are you talking about? Woman, you’re hell on wheels, and you’re the last woman I will ever make love to.” He started kissing my ear.
“I’m not horrible? But Johnny said since I didn’t have an orgasm I was cold in bed.” Why am I telling him this?
He leaned up on his elbow grinned and said, “Johnny didn’t know how to relax and make a woman hot before satisfying himself. It was all about him.” He took a deep breath and added, “I’m gonna beat the shit out of him if I ever see him again.”
“How do you know?” How could he know?
“Because I like making you squirm and call my name and,” he said while moving his hand south down my belly. “You had one hell of orgasm, and then you said ‘what the hell?’”
I was having a hard time talking, so I said slowly and breathy, “What…did you mean…I was…the last woman…you’re gonna make love to.” He didn’t answer he just grinned.
“Are you dying?” That sentence came out faster this time.
He kissed below my ear and whispered hoarsely, “I want you to stop talking.” He moved to my shoulder and whispered, “I want to make love to you.” He pulled my T-shirt down and kissed me just above my breast and whispered, “Yes, I’m dying to fulfill my fantasy with you. You rock my world. No, you are my world, Chloe.”
I couldn’t think about that sentence right then. Mostly, because I couldn’t think of anything but Rick and what he was doing with his fingers.
