“So your mother wasn’t at home; she wasn’t in the yard with you and Lillie Mae?”
“No, she wasn’t here.”
“While Lillie Mae was helping you practice that day, did someone stop by to see you? Did you have a visitor?”
“I don’t know.” Will began to squirm, obviously disturbed by the question. He inclined his head to the left and then to the right.
“Breathe deeply. Stay calm and relaxed,” Dr. Agee coached. “You’re comfortable and safe.”
Will’s agitation lifted, and once again he said, “I don’t know if we had a visitor.”
“Picture yourself and Lillie Mae in the backyard. See the grass and trees. Feel the sunshine.”
Will sighed.
The doctor continued. “Maybe you and Lillie Mae were laughing and talking, and then someone came into the backyard and you stopped laughing and talking.”
“Kent was drunk and angry.” Will’s shoulders lifted tensely. He knotted his hands into fists. A pained expression pinched his face. “Ever since he got that letter from Sharon Hickman, he’s been mad and mean and”—Will gasped for air—“and Mama had forbidden him to come to the house. She’d told him to leave us alone.”
“Relax, Will,” Dr. Agee said. “You’re safe. Lillie Mae is safe. Kent can’t hurt you.”
“He can hurt us,” Will cried. “He hurt Lillie Mae. She…she told him to leave, that if he didn’t go she’d call the police. But he wouldn’t leave. He was so hateful. He called Mama all kinds of ugly names, and then he told me that Johnny Mack Cahill was a worthless, white trash bastard, that I was the spawn of the devil and he was sorry he’d ever thought I was his child. Sorry that he’d ever been good to me, that he wished I’d never been born! He just kept spouting off all this garbage about my real father.”
Lane moaned softly.
Johnny Mack tightened his embrace. Keep on holding me, she silently pleaded. Whatever you do, don’t let go of me. I can’t make it without you. I need you. Will needs you.
“You said that Kent hurt Lillie Mae,” the doctor prompted. “How did he hurt her?”
“When he wouldn’t leave, she told me to go in the house. But when we started toward the door, he tried to stop us. He hit Lillie Mae so hard that she fell to the ground. I had to stop him.”
Lane’s breathing halted for a split second. Waiting. Uncertain. Afraid. Praying silently.
Will groaned with anger. “I—I took my baseball bat and hit him across his back and knocked him down. While he was lying on the patio moaning and cursing, I helped Lillie Mae get up. Then I told Kent that I wanted him to leave us alone and if he didn’t, I’d kill him.”
Lane bit down on her bottom lip to stifle her cries. And Johnny Mack kept on holding her.
“Do you remember what you did next?” Dr. Agee asked.
“I helped Lillie Mae to her room,” Will said. “I was afraid she’d broken an arm or leg when she fell. She told me to lock the doors and call the police.”
“But you didn’t call the police, did you, Will?”
“No, I didn’t. I went back outside to see if Kent had left.”
“And was he gone?”
“No, he was still there. On the ground, where I’d left him. But he wasn’t moaning and cursing. He wasn’t moving. There was blood all over the place. Lots of blood. Kent was…he was dead. Somebody had smashed in his head. God, it was awful!”
“That’s enough,” Lane cried as she jerked free of Johnny Mack’s hold and jumped to her feet. “Please, that’s enough.”
Johnny Mack got up, grabbed her and pressed her face against his chest. She clung to him, shaking uncontrollably.
“There was somebody else in the yard,” Will continued, apparently oblivious to Lane’s outburst. “I saw the shrubbery shivering. Somebody was hiding in the shrubbery.”
“What shrubbery?” Dr. Agee asked.
“The shrubbery between our yard and Grandmother’s yard. Somebody was crying.” Will began rubbing his hands together. “I think it was me. I was crying.”
“It’s all right, Will. It’s all right to cry.”
Tears pooled in Will’s eyes, and several drops trickled down his cheek. “I hated him! I hated him so much because he was so mean to Mama and me. But I didn’t want him dead. I didn’t!”
Will shivered as tears streamed down his face. Dr. Agee stood and motioned to Lane and Johnny Mack to come forward. Then she spoke quietly to Will.
“You can stop now, Will. You don’t have to remember anymore. Do you hear me? You can bring your mind back to the present where you’re safe and what happened to Kent is in the past.”
Will took a deep, cleansing breath and glowered at the doctor. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill Kent.”
Lane rushed to her son and took him into her arms. Johnny Mack encompassed both of them in his embrace.
A hushed stillness settled over the old house. The clock in the foyer struck the half hour. Lane pushed back the jet black strands of Will’s hair that had fallen across his forehead. Her baby boy. Almost a man and yet still so much a child. He was safe, here in his room, in the home that had housed generations of Nobles. Glancing around the room, lit only from the light coming through the door from the hallway, she smiled as she remembered how they had redecorated this room together shortly before Will’s thirteenth birthday. Will had changed the theme from a boy’s room, with a toy box still stationed beneath the windows, to a teenager’s room, with posters on the walls and copies of Playboy magazine hidden under the bed.
Today’s session with Dr. Agee had revealed little more new information, yet Will had remembered enough to bring two extremely important facts to light. One: he hadn’t killed Kent. And two: he had seen someone hiding in the shrubbery. But if Will had seen the murderer, undoubtedly the murderer hadn’t seen him. Otherwise, Will’s life would be in danger.
A second session was inevitable. And even then, it was possible Will wouldn’t remember, and more sessions would be required to help him regain his complete memory. But knowing Will hadn’t bludgeoned Kent to death was enough for now.
After kissing Will’s cheek and tucking the sheet around him, Lane tiptoed out of his room, but left the door slightly ajar.
“Is he finally asleep?” Johnny Mack asked.
“Yes, finally.” Lane sighed. “I think everyone’s asleep except you and me. Lillie Mae might still be awake, even though she usually goes to bed early and rises early. We’ve all been a bit on edge since Will’s session with Dr. Agee.”
“Quinn went to bed over an hour ago, right after he returned from his dinner date with Nola.”
“They certainly did take a liking to each other, didn’t they?”
“I’ve yet to meet a woman who could resist Quinn Cortez once he pours on the charm.”
“Something you two have in common.”
“If I’m so damn charming, why couldn’t I persuade you to eat any dinner?” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You haven’t had a bite since breakfast.”
“I suppose I’ve been too keyed up to eat.” She stood on tiptoe, stretched up and draped her arms around Johnny Mack’s neck. How wonderful to have him here, within arm’s reach, at her beck and call. “Knowing that Will didn’t kill Kent—”
“I want to believe as much as you do that what Will remembered today is exactly what happened, but Dr. Agee explained that it’s possible for a patient to have a false memory, that there’s no guarantee that things remembered under hypnosis are a hundred percent accurate.”
“Please, don’t play devil’s advocate,” Lane said. “Not now. Not tonight. Not when I know in my heart that what Will remembered is true. He didn’t kill Kent.”
“I agree. I don’t think he did. But that poses another problem. We all know that Will probably saw the killer, and sooner or later, he’s going to remember who it is. For your sake, we need for it to be sooner. Before you go to trial. I think we should take Dr. Agee’s advice and try another session as soon as Will
is willing to…”
“All right. As soon as Will is willing.”
“Okay, now that we have that settled, young lady, I’m taking you downstairs, and you’re going to eat.” Johnny Mack placed his hands on either side of her waist. “Even if I have to force feed you.”
Lane rubbed her body seductively against his. She had never thought of herself as the aggressive or brazen type, but this man—and only this man—brought out the hussy in her. Today had turned out to be a very good day, and she wanted to celebrate. Celebrate the beginning of a breakthrough for Will. Celebrate Johnny Mack’s return. Celebrate her awakening as a woman. Hell, she just wanted to celebrate being alive and in love. “I’d rather feed another appetite, wouldn’t you?”
Johnny Mack groaned. “Ah, honey, you don’t play fair.” He disengaged her arms from around his neck, clasped her shoulders and shoved her back a couple of feet. “As much as I want to indulge in some hanky-panky, I’m not going to take you to my room and make mad, passionate love to you all night.”
“You’re not?”
“No. Not until you’ve eaten.”
“Good grief.” Lane threw up her hands in exasperation. “I give in.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged. “Come on. Let’s raid the refrigerator.”
Thirty minutes later, they cleaned off the kitchen table, dumped their glasses, plates and silverware into the sink and returned the leftover ham, potato salad and Lemon Ice Box pie to the refrigerator. Lane watched while Johnny Mack squirted detergent into the sink and sprayed water over the dirty utensils.
“That’s what I like to see,” Lane said. “A man who’s handy around the house.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Johnny Mack blessed her with one of his breath-robbing smiles. “Oh honey, you have no idea just how handy I can be.”
She giggled. An honest to goodness giggle. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually felt so lighthearted, even if the sensation lasted only a moment before her mind reminded her of her troubles. Kent’s murder. Will’s amnesia. The upcoming trial. Her uncertain relationship with Johnny Mack.
“Hey, I don’t like that frown,” he said as he stacked the last glass on the drain board. “This has been a good day. I put the fear of God into James Ware, and Will remembered that he didn’t kill Kent. So you should be smiling.”
“Yes, I know. And I’m grateful.” She shrugged. “I suppose I was just wishing that I didn’t have the trial facing me and Will didn’t have more sessions with Dr. Agee to go through and that the relaxed, happy feelings I’ve enjoyed this past half hour could last.”
Johnny Mack wiped his wet hands off on the floral-print dish towel, and with his wickedly devastating smile broadening, he came toward her, his steps deliberately slow. “I think I know how I can make you even happier.” He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up against him. “And I promise that I’ll do my best to make those good feelings last as long as possible.”
When he took her into his arms and nuzzled her neck with his nose, she giggled again, but quickly shoved against his chest. “We can’t…can’t do…something in the kitchen. What if Lillie Mae were to wake and—”
He ended her protest with a kiss. Possessive and demanding. An all-consuming urgency. She tried to think rationally, to make some show of protest, but the longer he kissed her, the less she cared whether or not someone walked in on them. When he cupped her buttocks, lifted her up and pressed her against his erection, she stopped thinking altogether.
She clung to him, returning his kiss with equal passion. He backed her up against the wall and forced his hands beneath the waistband of her slacks. And while he caressed her hips and butt, she grasped his shoulders to brace herself. Bringing his hands up and out, he hurriedly unzipped her gabardine pants and tugged them down her hips and thighs. When the garment caught around her ankles, she raised one foot and then the other, then kicked her slacks aside. Johnny Mack lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. And all the while he continued kissing her.
She had never experienced anything this wild and free and totally exhilarating. Desire so strong she thought it would burn her alive controlled her actions. Since they had made love yesterday morning, thoughts of having sex with Johnny Mack again kept creeping into her consciousness, no matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay.
When he came up for air, his breathing ragged, he mumbled against her lips, “Maybe we’d better not finish this here.”
With her legs around him and his lips wetting a path from her mouth to the vee opening of her blouse, he carried her toward the pantry. Using her behind as a battering ram, he shoved open the partially open pantry door and made his way inside. He placed her on the counter top that ran parallel from one floor-to-ceiling shelf to an identical one on the other wall. Without a word exchanged, he removed her panties, unzipped his pants and freed his sex. Lifting her again, he positioned her so that when she wrapped her legs back around him, he thrust up and into her. She keened with pleasure and held on to him when he raised and lowered her hips, creating unbearable friction as he moved in and out of her. Bouncing lunges. Hard, unsteady, undulating rhythm. Mouths devouring. Body attacking body with fierce need. Lust dominating every action.
The moment Lane felt the first tight pressure that signaled the onslaught of an orgasm, she clamped her nails into Johnny Mack’s shoulders and whimpered his name.
“That’s it, baby, give me what I want. Come for me.”
He increased the tempo, hammering into her until she cried out and fell apart in his arms. Her climax hit her like a tidal wave. While the aftershocks rippled through her body, Johnny Mack jetted into her. Groaning, trembling, he held her tightly to his sweat-dampened body, until he had drained every ounce of energy from his own climax.
She eased her legs from around his hips and settled her feet on the floor, but kept her arms around his neck. As he swooped down to take her lips in another kiss, she lifted her face to his.
When he ended the kiss, she refused to release him. He slapped her bottom playfully and said, “Let’s take this upstairs to my bed.”
She could think of nothing she wanted more. But they weren’t the only ones in the house, and they had already taken an enormous risk having sex in the pantry. What if she shared Johnny Mack’s bed tonight and didn’t wake in the morning before Will got up? What if her son discovered that she had stayed the night? How would he react? What would he think of her?
“If Will were to know that I—”
Johnny Mack placed his index finger over her lips. “This isn’t some illicit affair we’re having. And eventually we’re going to have to tell Will how we feel about each other. But if you want to be discreet for now, then I’ll make sure you’re back in your own bed before daylight.”
We’re going to have to tell Will how we feel about each other. Wasn’t that what he’d said? But how do we feel about each other? she wanted to scream. If you love me, why don’t you just say so?
“I want to be discreet,” she replied.
He grinned as he straightened his pants and zipped them, then bent down, picked up her discarded panties and handed them to her. “Come on.”
He tugged on her hand, and she followed him out of the pantry and back into the kitchen. He lifted her blue gabardine slacks off the floor by the bar stool and held them out to her. She grabbed her slacks and slipped into them hurriedly.
“You go on up, honey,” he told her. “I’ll turn off the lights down here and double check to make sure the doors are locked and the security system is on. When I come upstairs, we’ll take a shower together and then we’ll—”
“If you start telling me what we’re going to do, I’ll never leave and we’ll wind up back in the pantry.”
“Then, get out of here before it’s too late,” he kidded.
With a contented smile on her face, Lane left him in the kitchen and headed up the back stairs. Just as she reached the landing, she heard a loud bang. Then a second blast quickly foll
owed.
Her mind registered the sounds, and she made a reasonable assumption that the noise had come from a nearby car backfiring.
But suddenly she realized that the sound had been caused by something else. Gasping for breath, she clutched the stair rail as adrenaline pumped through her body. The sound had been a gunshot. Whirling around, she raced down the stairs and back into the kitchen.
“Johnny Mack?”
No reply.
“Johnny Mack!”
She found him by the bay windows, sprawled out, lying facedown on the floor. Blood oozed from a bullet wound in his back and from a second wound in his arm.
Chapter 23
Lane felt as if she were going to throw up. Her stomach was tied in knots, her nerves were frazzled and her head throbbed. She gazed through the solid glass wall in the waiting room for the surgical intensive care unit at the Samuel Noble Memorial Hospital. The medical facility had been renamed in honor of her great-grandfather, who had donated a sizeable amount of money in the late nineteen-thirties for a new wing added to the original building. In the almost empty parking lot below, the tall security lights spread a muted, cream blush over the dark pavement and the neatly manicured shrubs and flowers planted in narrow, rectangular beds. The traffic light at the end of the street in front of the hospital flashed caution yellow.
Strange, she thought, how life went right on, unchanged, as if nothing significant had happened. The sun would rise in the east shortly. The streets would fill with traffic. The floor nurses would change shifts at seven. People would eat breakfast, take their children to school and go to work. Phones would ring, radios would blare out the latest tunes and billions of e-mail messages would be exchanged.
How was all that possible? Didn’t anyone realize that nothing was the same? That life had been drastically altered? She felt as if the end of the world was approaching and only one thing could halt her personal Armageddon—Johnny Mack Cahill coming out of surgery alive. She had lost him once, but after fifteen long years he had come back to her. She couldn’t lose him a second time. If he died….
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