“As long as you bare it to me, I don’t care where we do it.”
“A bed, big guy. I want a bed. Soft sheets. Air-conditioning.”
Rolling to his feet, Dave tugged Andi to hers.
“One bed, two sheets and thirty thousand BTUs of chilled air coming right up. Just don’t plan on leaving them anytime in the near future.”
CHAPTER 15
Looking back, Andi would always remember the last frantic days before her grand opening as the calm before the real storm hit.
She and Karen cut, opened, scanned and shelved like crazy women. When the shelf stock was arranged to their satisfaction, they tackled the front window.
They’d saved the boxes containing Roger Brent’s latest hardback for the main display. Shaded by the glare-reducing window coating Andi had installed, they arranged Return to Avaranche into a towering, stair-stepping pyramid. Additional copies of the five-hundred-page thriller filled every available side shelf.
“That ought to catch a few folks’ attention,” Andi declared when she and Karen stepped back to view their handiwork. “Now for the banner.”
With Karen’s help, she unrolled the twelve-foot-long plastic-coated banner announcing the time and date of Roger Brent’s appearance. Once they had hung it above and behind the pyramid, they went outside to survey the overall effect. A happy Karen brushed back strands of wildly curling red hair and pronounced judgment.
“That ought to catch everyone’s eye.”
Andi agreed. The windows done, she sat down to fire off follow-up press releases to run for three days before the big event.
The phone calls began the next day. So frequent were the requests to confirm Roger Brent’s appearance that Andi recorded the time, location and general directions on the shop’s answering machine.
In the midst of this whirl of last-minute preparations, she managed to snatch a few hours to work on the memorial project. Dave aided by tasking his exec to check into requirements for acquiring an aircraft from the boneyard at Davis-Monthan AFB outside Tucson.
Two days before the official grand opening, she and Karen divvied up the map to distribute flyers and posters. Their intent was to leave stacks at every shop, restaurant and library that would agree to hang or hand them out.
Sue Ellen and Crash helped by teaming up to cover Whiting Field and the Pensacola area. Before they drove off with a trunk full of fliers, S.E. provided a follow-on report to her earlier account of post-dining-out activities. Andi, in turn, admitted she now spent as many nights at Dave’s place as he did at hers.
“Must be what accounts for your healthy glow,” Sue Ellen teased. “Or did that spring from the doc’s report?”
“Nothing like being declared bug-free to give a girl rosy cheeks.”
Tapping a red-tipped nail against her chin, Sue Ellen looked her friend up and down.
“Nope,” she declared after a moment. “It’s the sex. Whatever other faults Dave Armstrong may possess, he could always ring your bell.”
“Like Crash rings yours?”
“Man, does he ever! I bong like Big Ben striking midnight.”
Choking, Andi shoved a stack of posters into her friend’s arms. “You’re shameless, woman.”
“I try.”
Smug as a pixie-faced Cheshire cat, S.E. glanced through the shop window to where Crash was loading boxes of flyers into his truck. When she pulled her gaze back, her expression turned serious.
“Level with me, Andi. Have you and Dave patched things up to the point where you might take your wedding rings out for a second run?”
“We’re not quite there, but we’re inching closer to it.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that. He hurt you, girlfriend. Bad.”
“We hurt each other. If we do decide to go for a second run, we’ll do things differently.”
“I hope so.”
Thankfully Sue Ellen left it at that. Andi had too much going on to provide a detailed analysis of what went wrong the first time around or exactly what they’d do differently this time.
The conversation stuck with her all day, however, and slipped into her mind again when she turned onto the cul-de-sac she shared with Dave late that evening. A quick glance at his house showed no lights.
A quick glance at her place had her stomping on the brake, her thoughts skidding to a stop along with the Tahoe. Even before the headlights picked out the Ohio license plate on the vehicle parked in her drive, she recognized her sister’s much-dinged Dodge Caravan.
When Andi pulled into the driveway, Carol emerged from the minivan. The interior lights illuminated her thin, trembling frame and tear-ravaged face. Fear curdled Andi’s stomach. An almost forgotten prayer ricocheted around in her head.
Please, God, please don’t let it be drugs.
Carol had been clean for so many years. Hoping against hope she hadn’t yielded to the insidious craving users said never left them, Andi jumped out of the Tahoe.
“What are you doing in Florida? Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming? What’s going on?”
“I—I…”
Carol trembled so violently she couldn’t speak. Sick with dread, Andi held out her arms. Her sister fell into them and burst into wrenching sobs.
Andi held her, just held her, until the sobs gave way to long, wracking shudders. When those subsided to gasping hiccups, she slid an arm around her sister’s waist.
“Let’s go into the house. We’ll talk about it.”
Whatever it was.
ACROSS THE INLAND Waterway, Dave was on his way out of the office and about to head home when his exec caught him.
“General Howard is on the line, sir.”
Nodding, Dave retraced his steps. The Special Ops general serving as deputy commander of CENTCOM could be calling on any one of a half dozen hot issues.
Dave wasn’t prepared for the one Howard hit him with, however.
“Your assignment as commander of Joint Task Force Six is back on, Armstrong. Pack your gear. You’re going to Qatar.”
Well, hell!
With his stomach nosing into a dive, Dave had to fight to keep his voice even.
“How did that happen? I thought the Navy wanted someone with a background in amphibious assault and had lobbied to put one of their own in command.”
“It took some time and some doing, but I convinced CINCCENT to nix Navy’s end run. JTF-6 is all yours, Dave. Congratulations.”
“Yes, sir.”
That was the best he could manage at the moment. Talk about your basic rotten timing! He’d been pissed when the Navy had blocked his assignment a few months back. Now he wished like hell they’d succeeded in placing a frog in command of the task force that would eventually include more than a thousand special forces from all branches of the service.
“This interservice wrangling has cost us,” Howard said crisply. “You don’t have much time to brief your deputy and turn over command of the 720th. I need you in Qatar by the end of next week.”
Dave clicked instantly into prep mode. As he had so many times before, he began tabulating the tasks that needed doing before he hopped a transport. He got as far as the second task before his thoughts came to a dead stop.
He couldn’t leave Andi. Not now. Not again.
His gaze shot to the framed photos on his office wall. The warrior in him reared up and bellowed a denial.
The hell he couldn’t! His men needed him more than his ex-wife did right now. Doc Ramirez had just handed her a get-out-of-jail-free card. She’d be busy with the shop for weeks and months to come. Sue Ellen could keep an eye on her while Dave was in Qatar.
General Howard interrupted the fierce internal monologue. “I’ve laid on a briefing for you by the CENTCOM staff tomorrow afternoon. There are things we need to cover that can’t be discussed over the phone. Plan to arrive by thirteen hundred.”
“Yes, sir.”
THE CALL PLAYED IN Dave’s head repeatedly as he drove through the October ni
ght. Storm clouds had piled up over the gulf, obscuring the moon and pretty well matching his mood. His disposition didn’t improve when he turned onto the cul-de-sac and spotted the Dodge Caravan parked in Andi’s drive. One glimpse of the Ohio plates had him spitting out a curse.
Dammit all to hell! Just what he needed after General Howard’s bombshell—an unannounced visit by Andi’s sister and her smart-ass husband.
He was tempted to pull into his drive and leave them to Andi. Richard Perle had never been one of Dave’s favorite people. His mild disdain for the smarmy divorce lawyer had morphed into outright dislike when Perle insisted on representing Andi.
Until that point, the divorce had been uncontested. In typical Andi fashion, she’d worked out every minute detail ahead of time. But Perle had still tried his damnedest to put the screws to his onetime brother-in-law.
Watching Perle’s expression when Dave walked in and kissed Andi wouldn’t provide near the satisfaction of planting a fist in the man’s face, but he suspected Andi wouldn’t appreciate blood gushing onto her carpet. Saving that anticipated pleasure for another time and place, Dave parked and walked across the driveways.
Andi met him at the door. “Carol’s here.”
“I saw the car.” Dragging off his beret, he shoved it in the pocket of his BDUs. “Perle with her?”
“No. She drove down by herself. She just got here a few moments ago, so I don’t have the full story yet, but apparently Richard’s having an affair.”
“I always said he was a slimy bastard.”
“I know, I know.” Distracted, she raked a hand through her hair and threw a glance over her shoulder. “Carol’s a mess, Dave.”
“Want me to come back later?”
She pursed her lips, thought about it and shook her head. “She likes you. Always has. She still says letting you walk out of my life was the worst mistake I ever made.”
“She’s got that right. Have you told her I’m muscling my way back in?”
“Not yet. As I said, she just got here a little while ago and, well, I don’t think this is the right time to lay that on her.”
Or lay General Howard’s call on her sister, Dave thought grimly. The evening was producing one unwelcome surprise after another.
“Carol knows we’re neighbors. I’ve told her we’re on speaking terms again. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
Nodding, Dave followed her into the great room. He thought the reunion with his former sister-in-law might be awkward, but Carol welcomed him back into the fold with a watery smile.
“You were right, Dave. Richard’s a pig.”
“Did I call him a pig? Sure didn’t mean to insult them that way.”
Carol’s smile held for another second or two before crumbling. The tissue in her hand shredded. Tears slid down her cheeks. Clicking her tongue, Andi dropped onto the sofa beside her and slid an arm around her.
With the two women huddled shoulder to shoulder, Dave folded his frame into an easy chair. Looking at them, he thought, you’d never guess they were sisters.
Carol’s hair was the same dark mink as Andi’s, her green eyes only a shade lighter, but the physical similarities ended there. Thin and pale and nervous, Carol looked as though she was the one infected with a penicillin-resistant bacterium.
As Dave knew all too well, the differences went more than skin-deep. Andi’s core was solid steel. Her years as an officer had tempered that steel and imbued her with a quiet but unshakable self-confidence and the ability to take command of any situation.
Carol possessed that same strength—she couldn’t have kicked her teenaged drug habit otherwise—but that experience had undermined her self-esteem and destroyed her confidence in herself. The fear that she would weaken and turn back to drugs never quite left her. Dave could hear echoes of it now in her quavering recital of infidelity and heartbreak.
“I’d suspected for some time,” she said, her white-knuckled hand gripping Andi’s. “Richard started working late or saying he had a meeting downtown or had stopped for a drink with the other attorneys on his way home.”
Andi squeezed her sister’s hand. “You suspected but you didn’t say anything?”
“I was afraid to,” Carol related miserably. “At first. Then I was, well, sort of relieved. Things have been rocky between us for such a long time. You know, like they were between you and Dave before you split.”
Andi winced and left it to Dave to mutter a sardonic, “Yeah, we know.”
“Then I saw them together,” Carol continued. “Richard and his girlfriend. Last night. They were going into a restaurant. They had their arms around each other. They were laughing, happy.”
More tears spilled down her pale cheeks.
“Richard and I haven’t laughed in years. Really laughed. Seeing him like that, realizing how the joy had disappeared from our life, I…I kind of lost it.”
“Lost it how?” Andi asked, her expression tight and anxious.
Dave guessed what she was thinking. His own thoughts were pretty grim. Hoping to hell Carol hadn’t slipped back into the void, he set his jaw as the elder sister hung her head.
“I drove my car right up on the sidewalk,” she confessed in a shaky voice. “Then I jumped out and whacked Richard with a bottle of Diet Pepsi.”
Andi’s mouth opened, shut and opened again. Relief, anxiety and incredulity all played across her face.
“Why, uh, Diet Pepsi?”
“I was on my way home from the grocery store. The Pepsi bottle was the closest weapon at hand.” She lifted her head. A glimmer of satisfaction worked its way through her tears. “I knocked him flat on his ass.”
“Good for you, sis!”
Dave echoed her sentiments. “Way to go, Carol.”
She basked in their approval for a few moments before her triumph faded. Shoulders slumping, she gripped her sister’s hand. “After I saw him hit the sidewalk, I got in my car and headed for the interstate. So here I am.”
Andi’s brows soared. “Whoa! Are you saying you didn’t go home? Pack a suitcase? Clean out the bank account?”
“No. I wanted away from Richard as fast and as far as I could get. I didn’t stop except to gas up the car en route. I thought—that is, I hoped—I could stay here with you until I figure out what to do next.”
“Of course you can.”
Andi’s reply was swift and unhesitating, but the glance she sent Dave suggested she hadn’t missed the irony of the situation. Nor had he.
Two sisters, both in transition. One with her marriage falling apart, the other in the process of patching hers back together.
Realizing that process had just hit a speed bump, Dave rose. “You must be exhausted after driving all that way. And hungry if you didn’t stop for anything but gas. How about I scramble us up some eggs?”
“Thanks, but I couldn’t eat anything.” Carol gave a ghost of a laugh. “I had five sacks of groceries in the car. I feasted on potato chips, seedless grapes and chocolate éclairs all the way down here.”
“You may not want anything, but Andi needs to eat.”
Chastened, the older sister turned a stricken face to the younger. “Oh, God, that’s right. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own misery I didn’t even ask you how you’re doing.”
“I’m okay.”
“She needs to eat,” Dave repeated, ignoring Andi’s not-now frown. “I’ll cook. Twenty minutes. My place.”
Halfway to the door, he turned back to Carol. “I don’t have any sympathy for Richard, but you’ve been gone for going on twenty-four hours now.”
“He won’t care.”
“Maybe not, but you should call him, let him know you’re okay so he doesn’t have the police out looking for you.”
“I don’t want to talk to him now. Maybe not ever.”
“Want me to make the call?”
“Would you?”
He showed his teeth. “With pleasure.”
IT WAS CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT by the time Andi got her
sister settled in the guest room. By then, Carol had talked herself hoarse.
The hurt, the disgust, the self-pity had all spilled out, accompanied by more tears and, toward the end, a healthy bout of anger. Her hands had shaken and her whole body had trembled at one point, but to Andi’s profound relief, not once had her sister voiced a desperate desire for a hit.
“She’s beaten it,” Andi reported to Sue Ellen in a quick call the next morning. “She’s really beaten it.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so, S.E.” Wedging the phone under her ear, Andi poured two glasses of orange juice. “You and I have both been through the breakup of a marriage. You know how it rips you apart. She had the strength to come here instead of staying in Ohio and wallowing in her misery.”
“How’s she going to handle the fact that you and Dave are getting back together just when her own marriage is falling apart?”
“She’ll handle it.”
Andi infused her reply with more confidence than she actually felt. Carol liked Dave. She always had. Still, Andi didn’t want to rub the wonder and excitement and lust she and Dave had regenerated in her sister’s face.
Then there was the bookstore. How would her sister react to the project that had injected such excitement and fun into Andi’s life?
Carol loved books almost as much as she did. Their father’s military career and frequent moves had prompted both sisters to turn to fictional friends after leaving yet another school and set of playmates. Wisely their mom had stocked up on Nancy Drew, Girl Detective novels and Tamora Pierce’s Immortals adventures before bundling the family into the car for another cross-country drive.
Still, seeing the newness of Andi’s store, the thrill it gave her, might only emphasize the empty hole looming in Carol’s life. Unfortunately that was a chance Andi had to take. With her grand opening just over twenty-four hours away, she couldn’t stay home and commiserate with her sister. Instead she’d offered to put her to work.
“Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to roust Carol out of bed. She’s going into the shop with me today. She said she wants to keep busy while she decides what she’s going to do next.”
Ex Marks the Spot (Harlequin Next) Page 16