by Scott, D. D.
Instead of the melancholy music that actually appeared to be Nicky Blane’s preference, I decided to focus on the scenery outside the SUV.
‘Course with Valentine’s Day upon us, I doubt we had many choices other than love songs.
At least we weren’t tuned into that God damn Delilah, who I swear had to be the cause of multiple suicides across her syndicated talk show reach.
Okay…just for the record, I used to luuuvvv Air Supply and Delilah.
But yes, that was also before The Big D, when the man I thought was my prince turned into one mighty huge and ugly-ass bullfrog!
As snowflakes fell around us in a fury, slamming against the vehicle’s windows then dissolving into big drops of water, I thought about what a flake I’d been to fall for Hank Aldredge.
What if my heart and soul never thawed out and instead remained frozen as solid as the two-foot high snow drifts lining these northern Indiana country roads?
CHAPTER FOUR
I’m not sure when I fell asleep, but I awoke to Nicky gently shaking my arm.
“We’re here, Sleeping Beauty. And I must say, you’re much nicer when you’re napping,” he said then chuckled at his own lame joke.
“Do you always laugh at your own jokes?”
“Usually. But you know what? I don’t know why no one else does.”
“Yeah…well…I know why.”
I stretched and tried to casually wipe my glove along the corners of my mouth. Damn. I hope I hadn’t drooled or talked in my sleep. I’ve been known to do both.
While I swiped at my chin, the SUV bumped along the gravel drive up the decent-sized hill leading from the road to Nicky’s farmhouse.
Every tree glistened as if the branches were crystallized in diamonds.
I caught a glimpse of his old farmhouse between wiper blade passes of thick, wet snow. Wow! The place looked like one gigantic, real-life replica of a Thomas Kinkade painting.
Every light in the huge two-story house was burning bright, guiding us home like a beacon in the midst of this winter storm.
No wonder Nicky loved to retreat here to write. It had its very own kind of magic.
All previous tracks to the house were gone, and the snow crunched beneath our tires. It must have been snowing for a while now.
“How much snow are you expecting tonight?”
“Forecast says a good foot and a half. But out here, thanks to the drifting, it often looks like a lot more than that.”
“A foot-and-a-half?!”
Leave it to me not to check the weather report. I wish I was that organized, but I wasn’t. Those kinds of things had always been Hank’s specialty, not mine.
Come to think of it, if I’d been more inclined to check on things regarding my life in general, I’d perhaps have saved myself the frog hell that resulted from being Mrs. Hank Aldredge.
“What’s wrong with a blizzard? It will be a total winter wonderland by tomorrow morning. I love that,” Nicky said, his eyes suddenly twinkling more than the snow crystals dancing in front of the antique lamp post at the top of what should be stairs leading up to his home.
“Oh. I get it. You’re afraid of being stuck here…with me…the rest of the week,” he said, the twinkle replaced by a dark storm of recognition of what I must dread worse than the storm.
“Well, I’m certainly not afraid to be stuck with you. I just don’t want to be stuck with you.”
“Oh yes. Right. That would bring you right back to being…let’s see…how did you put that? Stuck with a schmuck.”
“I already apologized for that,” I said, starting to truly get how much my comment had bruised his surprisingly fragile ego.
Although I knew better than to think I’d bruised his heart. Nicky Blane didn’t have one.
“No, you didn’t apologize.”
“Not in so many words.”
“Precisely. And I’m more of a word guy. Which I’m sure you can relate to.”
There was no need for me to remind him yet again that he was an asshole. My eyes narrowing to thin slits probably clued him into my thoughts.
I threw open the passenger door and Mother Nature took over. The wind was gusting so strong, I could barely hang onto it.
“Damn!”
“It gets pretty wicked out here during this kind of storm,” Nicky shouted over the fierce sounds of the trees being whipped and whirled. “Let me get you in the house, then I’ll come back out for your luggage.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, staring down at my spike-heeled booties. “But in this snow, those beasts are gonna be a real bitch.”
“I’ll manage,” I said, waiting while he opened the rear of the Escalade so we could load up our arms with the waaay too many suitcases I’d packed.
I made it to what should have been the first step before I ended up on my ass, my ankle twisted underneath one of my bags.
“Shit!” Nicky dropped his load of my luggage and knelt down beside me. “Are you okay? I told ya those shoes were gonna do you in.”
“Go ahead and say it,” I said, trying sooo hard to keep tears from arriving and then freezing on my damn eyelashes.
“You know I’m always right. Why would I need to repeat that at a time like this?”
“You are…such…a total…Asshole,” I said between chattering teeth.
“Now I know you’re okay,” he said while helping me to my feet.
I started to reach for my bags, but with a firm grip on my arms and a don’t-even-think-about-it look in his eyes, he stopped me.
“I’ll get these. Let’s just get you into the house before you break something.”
Together, with dangerous slips and slides the entire way, we finally made it up and onto the sweet safety of the enormous wrap-around porch and hustled toward what looked to be the kitchen door.
Before Nicky could get the correct key from his ring into the keyhole, a tiny, pleasantly plump older woman had the door open for us.
“Come in. Come in. Oh, I’m sooo glad you made it safely home, Sir Nicholas.”
“Sir Nicholas,” I mouthed to him.
“Yes…well…no worries then, Molly. We’re home,” he said, using one of his large hands to push me the rest of the way into the kitchen so he could leave the blizzard outside.
“I’m Samantha Aldredge,” I said, reaching out my hand to shake Molly’s.
Finding her returning my gesture with a super-strong grip, I was a tad surprised. She didn’t look the part for the owner of such a firm handshake.
“I was just about to introduce you,” Nicky rambled while stomping his feet on the rug, which sent huge chunks of snow off the edges of his boots and onto the kitchen floor.
“No you weren’t,” I said, and knew for a fact he wasn’t. He was not good at that kind of stuff at all.
“Oooo…I’m gonna like havin’ you around,” Molly said, while helping me off with my coat. “You’re absolutely right, My Dear. Sir Nicholas was not about to introduce you to me. His manners aren’t all that good.”
I smiled, which didn’t happen much these days. I was totally going to luuuvvv Molly.
“Molly Masterson, please meet Samantha Aldredge, Editor Extraordinaire…also known as Allwitch,” Nicky said, only because he knew he’d been bested by two women who knew him all too well.
Molly and I just smiled at each other. I think she enjoyed watching him squirm as much as I did.
CHAPTER FIVE
After a round of the most delicious hot cocoa I’d ever had, complete with sticks of peppermint to give it the perfect kick, we decided to call it a night.
Molly bid us farewell and returned to her living quarters located in the addition I learned that Nicky had built for her.
I couldn’t wait to get to know this feisty little dynamo. But for now, I really was exhausted, both physically from my travels, and mentally and emotionally from dealing with Nicky much longer than I’d expected to have to today.
Ni
cky lead me upstairs to the second floor of the farmhouse.
His home was something else. From the pocket doors, to the gorgeous hardwood floors, to the amazing high ceilings and huge windows with hand-crafted shutters, it was its very own treasure. I was looking forward to exploring it in the weeks ahead.
“This will be your suite,” he said, ushering me through the last door on the right of a long hallway.
When I entered the room, I stopped and gasped.
There I was, surrounded by the world’s cheesiest of all-things-Valentines.
Huge teddy bears in all colors, holding everything from boxes of chocolates to lit-up roses. A bedside table holding what must have been ten boxes of assorted high-end gourmet chocolates. Gigantic cards with puffy hearts, hearts that lit up, hearts that were playing music. Hearts, hearts and more hearts. Along with obscene, X-rated games for lovers with dice, cards and spinners.
The only thing missing was a champagne flute-shaped, step-up hot tub to go with it. And who knows…maybe there was one of those in here too!
Oh, and perhaps we also could have used some sort of blinking neon-lit sign like you’d see in some kinky Vegas Motel or Poconos Resort themed-room saying “Viva La Valentine”.
I looked at Nicky, who had the most adorable but goofy grin I’d ever seen, and I just laughed out loud.
The orneriness immediately left him and a look of utter amazement took hold of his countenance.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe it. Allwitch laughs!”
And just like that, I stopped.
Why?
Because Nicky was right.
“I’ve never seen you laugh. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I didn’t either,” I said, lowering my head and taking new interest in the patterns of the hardwood floors of my guest suite.
Nicky used one hand to lift up my chin. Our eyes met, which is what he must have wanted, but I sure didn’t.
“I’m making it my personal mission to see to it that you laugh a bunch more. At least while you’re living under my roof.”
“You won’t have time. You’re on a deadline. Remember?”
“Watch me.”
“Oh, I will be. Count on it. That’s why I’m here,” I said, unable to control the shakes that were making my voice more of a whisper than my normal conversational tone.
“I hope you enjoy your Valentine’s Day treats. I wasn’t sure what your tastes are for Cupid’s Big Day.”
He picked up some sort of lovers game where the packaging indicated you picked a card then treated your lover to whatever the card instructed.
“Now, personally, I enjoy these,” he said, giving me that cagey grin I’d seen him use on multiple women in my old Manhattan office.
“Somehow, that does not surprise me.”
I took the package out of his hands then handed it off to some goofy, big-ass white plush bear holding an enormous red velvet heart between its paws.
“So you didn’t answer me. Which of these would be your style?”
“All of it, I guess,” I said, again looking at the floor.
Nicky once more tilted up my chin so that I was held captive by his lake blue eyes.
“Being as those damn boots about killed you off at a young age, I’m not sure why you’re so interested in your feet.”
“It’s just…”
“What?” He asked, in the softest, sweetest voice I’d ever heard pass through his vocal cords.
“I’ve never had a Valentine. So this is all new for me.”
“Well then. I guess you’re not at all Stuck with a Schmuck, are you?”
“No. I’m certainly not,” I said, this time looking him straight in his eyes without him having to hold my head in place. “Thank you. This is great.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, stepping back and heading back toward the door. “That wasn’t so tough now, was it?”
“What?”
It was my turn to ask the question.
“Enjoying something someone does for you.”
“Asshole.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I’m not your girl.”
“Not yet…but I’ll be working on that project too.”
And with that oafish answer, he closed the door and left me to my Viva La Valentine fantasy land.
CHAPTER SIX
I couldn’t remember a night in the past year that I’d slept so well.
Maybe it was the feather-soft goose down pillow and comforter on Nicky’s guest bed.
Or maybe it was the winter wonderland from which I first drifted into my dreams and then back out into reality.
But really. Okay. I’ll just come on out and admit this. It could have been going to sleep surrounded by a ton of reminders that at least one man I knew wasn’t a total frog.
Okay. Yes. Nicky Blane still had his ultra-frustrating bullfrog moments. But somewhere amidst his country-bumpkin lily pads was a guy with a warm and very giving heart.
If I hadn’t been the one on the receiving end of it, I’d have never believed it.
But to prove it even more, I was cuddled up to a very soft, curly-haired golden teddy bear with a quilted heart patch sewn to his tummy, compliments of Nicky Blane.
I snuggled deeper into the warmth of the down comforter, actually looking forward to what the new day would bring. And that, in and of itself, was a minor miracle. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten out of bed anxious to see what the cards held for me on a particular day.
Thinking I’d lay here a bit longer and relax, I had just curled into a little blissful ball when I heard a blood-curdling scream.
The sound had come from outside the house, so I jumped out of bed and ran to the window.
Looking out into the deep white depths, I saw Molly dramatically waving her arms. I read her lips. She was hollering for help.
I shoved my legs into a pair of sweatpants, pulled on my Uggs, grabbed my parka out of the armoire and sprinted for my door.
Running into the hallway, I almost ran into Nicky flying out of his master suite and also heading for the staircase.
“Did you hear that?” He asked.
“It’s Molly! I saw her waving her arms and shouting for help outside my window.”
We took the steps, some three at a time, and both reached the first floor landing at the same time.
“You’re going to need some gloves and put that hood up. The wind chill factor is dangerous today,” Nicky ordered while getting his own parka, hat, gloves and boots from the mudroom.
I put up my hood and shoved my hands into my pockets. I didn’t take time to find my gloves.
We dashed out the mudroom door, through the garage and scrambled down the hill toward what looked to be an abandoned chicken coop.
By this time, Molly’s face was as white as the snow, and I truly feared she was about to faint. She couldn’t even speak anymore. Instead, she just stood there frozen, holding her gloved hands to her face. I noticed her fingers began to tremble and tears were now cascading down her cheeks.
“What is it, Molly?” Nicky asked, wrapping her in his arms.
Without a single word, she pointed to the chicken coop.
Nicky looked at me then asked me to stay with Molly while he headed in the direction she was pointing.
He was only gone a moment.
When he came back around the corner of the old and rickety-looking wooden shack-like building, he didn’t have the same bright color in his cheeks he’d had a few seconds before.
“What is it? What’s wrong in there?” I asked.
“Let’s just say you’re no longer stuck with just a schmuck on Cupid’s Big Day. Try being stuck with a stiff too.”
“A stiff? As in a dead body?” I asked, well aware of what the term meant. After all, I’d been a crime thriller editor for over a decade now.
“Not just any stiff either,” Nicky said as he approached me and Molly.
“What do you mean? You know the v
ic?” I asked.
“So do you.”
“I do?”
“It’s Jack Collins.”
I gasped, taking in way too much of the frigid cold air, and immediately began choking. I doubled over, unable to regain composure.
Nicky shielded me with his body from the icy blasts of wind that just wouldn’t stop. He didn’t say a word for a bit while he began to rub my back.
“You okay, Allwitch?”
“No. Not really,” I managed to get out between damn near hyperventilating breaths.
“Yeah. Me either. This doesn’t look good.”
“I don’t get it. Why would Jack Collins, the Number One New York Times and Amazon Bestselling Author be here? In northern Indiana, in a blizzard, dead in your chicken coop?”
“Maybe because I’m Number Two on those same bestseller lists,” Nicky said in an eerie tone just like Castle does when beginning to spin theories for Beckett.
“Doesn’t he live in LA?” I asked, shivering uncontrollably, and not just from the blasts of wind damn near knocking us over.
“Not anymore.”
“Yeah. I got that,” I said, sometimes still taken aback a bit by the morbid humor of the crime thriller world. “Do you think you’re next?”
“No, I think whoever killed Jack wants people to think I offed him to get to Number One.”
“Oh. Now that’s bad. And it’s only going to look worse when the police put together who he is and who’s farm he was found on.”
Nicky just nodded his head and helped me back up the hill toward the house.
I looked around for Molly, who I’d actually forgotten about. She must have already gone back into the house to call the police.
“For the record, I’d definitely take being stuck with a schmuck over a stiff,” I said, knowing this wasn’t the time for more morbid humor, but really not knowing what else to say.
“I hear yeah, Partner. And thanks. But evidently, you’re not the only one who thinks I’m a schmuck.”
THE END…
WELL…NOT REALLY…