The Man For Me

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The Man For Me Page 30

by Gemma Bruce


  J.T. nodded. She’d already seen the look of confusion in Bernie’s eyes. She was afraid it was going to get worse.

  It’s taken care of. Not something that was already completed, but what he’d planned to have done. It’s taken care of. Kurtz is going to burn down the mill.

  How could Larry be a part of something so sinister. Against his own team. His old friend. What could he possibly gain? And who had he called?

  She glanced at Bernie. He was watching the fire with such disgust that she knew it couldn’t be him. He would never do anything to hurt Tommy.

  “What is it, J.T.? Are you all right?” Tommy hovered over her. “Maybe I should take you to the emergency room.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just thinking.”

  “About what?” Tommy asked.

  “About how Larry fits into all of this.”

  Bernie lifted his chin. “You can ask him now.”

  Larry was striding toward them, looking concerned. “What on earth happened? I’ve been sitting at home all night. I had no idea. Why didn’t someone call me?”

  “How did you hear about the fire?” Bernie’s question was reasonable, but Larry checked.

  “Sarah Muggins called me. She thought I should be here.” Then he saw J.T. “Good God, what’s she doing here?”

  “I never left.”

  “Great. Just great. Are you responsible for this?” He gestured toward the building, which was now smoldering under the deluge of the fire hoses.

  “Damn it, Larry.” Bernie stepped in front of Tommy, who had murder in his eye.

  “Sorry, Bern. But hell, we’ve had nothing but trouble since she got here.”

  And he was about to see more, thought J.T., but she held off accusing him of conspiring to commit arson. She wasn’t on firm ground yet. She didn’t need anymore derogatory things spread about her, or a lawsuit for slander.

  “We were having trouble before J.T. ever got here,” Bernie said.

  “A run of bad luck, big deal. We’ve weathered worse.”

  “Bad luck didn’t start this fire,” Tommy said. “Bobby Kurtz did.”

  “Bob—What are you talking about?”

  Finally J.T. spoke. “Bobby Kurtz met you at the Baby Doll Lounge tonight.”

  Larry took an involuntary step backward. His reaction was everything she’d hoped for. It was unconscious, but damning.

  “What the hell are you talking about? I was at home watching the tube all night.”

  “You were there, Larry. I have proof. And I’m sure the bartender will recognize you.”

  “You’re crazy.” He turned to Tommy. “You’d better take her to the emergency room. I think she must have hit her head.”

  “Who did you call after he left, Larry? Who were you reporting to? Who did you tell that Kurtz was taking care of it.”

  “I didn’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was at home.”

  “Who, Larry?” Bernie’s words were quiet. But J.T. was glad she wasn’t skewered by his icy glare. And J.T. felt for him. His longtime friend, a friend he’d placed in the Beaver organization, had betrayed him. It was growing more obvious with each denial.

  Larry held out his hands. “Bern. You’re not listening to her? She’s just a sorry little attention seeker. Look what she did to Tommy with that article. He probably gave her the brush-off and that’s how she got back at him. Hell, she’s a baseball slut. We all saw the picture.”

  Tommy lunged at him, but was grabbed from behind by Jeff Whitelaw who seemed to materialize out of the darkness.

  “Tommy, I’m gonna cuff you if you don’t behave.”

  Tommy nodded curtly and Jeff released him. Jeff stepped up to Larry, putting himself between the two men. “Seems like I’m having to do this a lot lately. And it may come to nothing, but I got Bobby Kurtz in a squad car over there, and he’s yapping his head off about how you put him up to burning down Tommy’s factory.”

  “What? He’s lying.”

  “He might be. But in light of his accusations, I’m gonna have to ask you to come down to the station and answer a few questions.”

  “Jeff, this is crazy. Why on earth would I pay Kurtz to burn down an abandoned building? Last week he was accusing Tommy of selling him drugs. He’s obviously deranged. He needs psychiatric help.”

  “If he does, he’ll get it. But I still need you to come downtown.”

  “Larry?” It was the only thing Bernie seemed capable of saying. Then, “Why?”

  J.T. thought she knew. “Because he needs the money. Someone was paying you, Larry. Who was it?”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  “But you’ll have to talk to me.” Jeff took his arm. “At the station.”

  “Better confiscate his cell phone,” J.T. told Jeff. “The call he made from his meeting with Kurtz is probably still on the call log.”

  Larry wrenched himself from the sheriff’s grasp and started to run toward the street. It was a stupid, panic-induced reaction and it pretty much sealed his fate.

  Two uniformed men grabbed him as he reached the gate.

  “Well, Tommy,” said Jeff, “if things keep going like they have been, I think I’ll be able to have those charges against you dropped. Good night, ma’am. Bernie.”

  They watched him walk away. A few minutes later the fire chief came over. “I’ve got some good news. Fire’s out and we managed to contain it to the annex mostly, and you woulda had to tear that down anyway. The rest of the building’s sound. I’ll leave a truck here to make sure nothing starts up again. But you folks might as well go home.”

  Tommy shook his hand. “When can we get inside?”

  “A few days. I expect the insurance investigator will want to take a look. But it’s a clear case of arson. We found two empty gasoline cans nearby. And the fire never got hot enough to mask the accelerant trail.

  “Dumb so and so.” He shook his head. “Lucky for us. And lucky somebody called it in so fast. It could have been a lot worse.”

  Tommy thanked him and he went back to overseeing the cleanup.

  Bernie hadn’t spoken since the police had taken Larry away. J.T. tried not to feel responsible for how he was feeling. But she’d blown the whistle on his longtime friend. She doubted if he’d ever forgive her.

  She stepped closer to him. “I’m sorry, Bernie.”

  Bernie shook his head. “Not your fault,” he said, and walked away.

  “There was no good way to do that,” Tommy said. J.T. knew it was true and that there wasn’t anything else to say. She wished she hadn’t been the one to uncover the plot. “I’m sorry.”

  He smiled down at her. “Bernie’s a ruminator. He’ll figure it out. He’s a just man.”

  She didn’t know how he could sound so rational. He’d nearly lost his community center, they’d found a traitor in their midst, and there was still someone out to get him.

  “I wonder if they’ll find out who Larry called tonight.”

  “I imagine so. Jeff grew up around here, but he went through the police academy in Philly. He knows his business.”

  He wrapped an arm around her, then the other, and rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Welcome back, Jessica Tiffany. I hope you’re planning to stay a while.”

  J.T. didn’t know. She couldn’t think. She smelled of smoke, she was covered in soot. Her teeth were gritty with it. And her cheek hurt. Suddenly she was dead tired.

  The emergency lights flickered off one by one until only two remained focused on the smoldering ruins. One of the fire trucks drove away and Tommy and J.T. walked to the street.

  “I’ll ask one of Jeff’s men to drive your car back to the Holiday Inn.”

  “I can drive.”

  “I’m sure you can, but since I’m not letting go of you, and I have my car here, you’ll have to come with me.”

  She gave up without a fight. She wanted to go with him, even if it was just for the ten-minute drive to the highway.

  Chapter 31

 
; J.T. only had time to grab her purse and laptop from the trunk of the Taurus before Tommy put her in the front seat of the Beemer and drove away.

  They didn’t go to the highway. Tommy held her hand, only letting go to change gears. He drove straight to his house and parked at the curb. He jumped out of the car and was opening the passenger door before she’d finished gathering up her bag and laptop.

  “Come on, sport.” He pulled her out of the car, reached back in for her laptop and bag, and kept a firm grip on her the whole way up the steps. He was acting as if he expected her to try to escape.

  She might tomorrow. Like any good masked avenger, she’d disappear with a hearty Hi ho, Silver. Her job here was done. There was an article to be gotten out of it. But it could be written back in Atlanta.

  She had other work now as well. Work that she’d gotten on her own merits. And she was proud of that. She was also sad. She’d miss being a part of all this. Miss being with Tommy, but she would have good memories.

  J.T. let Tommy lead her upstairs. She took a shower while he called his family to let them know he was all right and the mill had been saved. She felt a little envious. She was proud of herself for standing up to the Coach, but he probably wouldn’t be calling her to check on her welfare anytime soon.

  She put on the Galaxies T-shirt that Tommy had left for her and crawled onto his bed. She guessed it was a pretty big assumption that they would be sleeping together. There were a lot of unanswered questions between them, but she was too tired to think. She curled up on his bed while he took his turn in the bathroom.

  The next thing she was aware of was that she was under the covers and Tommy was asleep with his arms around her. His skin warming hers, his heart beating against hers. She hadn’t even heard him come to bed.

  J.T. snuggled closer and let herself drift back to sleep.

  When she awoke again, it was morning and she smelled coffee. She turned over with a groan. She felt like she’d been hit by a truck.

  Tommy was sitting in bed, propped against the pillows, drinking a cup of coffee.

  Tommy eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

  Not exactly the response a woman wanted to hear from her lover first thing in the morning. It was morning. It was the first time they’d spent the entire night together.

  He put down his cup on the nightstand. J.T. quickly smoothed back her hair.

  “Babe, you’ve got a mother of all shiners.”

  At first she didn’t understand. Then she touched her cheek. Her eyes weren’t just swollen from sleep. One of them was swollen nearly shut.

  She pushed the covers away and got out of bed, pulling the hem of the T-shirt down over her butt.

  “But the other end is looking mighty fine.”

  Ignoring him she looked around for a mirror.

  “Back of the closet door,” he said.

  She opened the closet and peered at her reflection. “Oh. My. God.”

  “That’s what I said. You’d better stay in bed today.” He poured coffee into a second cup.

  “For a black eye?”

  “That, too. But I’m planning to stay here all day and it would probably get boring without you.”

  She tried not to smile; it made her cheek hurt. “Don’t you have stuff you have to do?”

  “I delegated. That’s what I have assistants and agents and lawyers for.”

  “I must have been sleeping like the dead. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Pretty much. I tried to wake you earlier. I thought I was pretty persuasive but you just smiled and turned over.”

  “Can I have that coffee now?”

  “Come and get it.” His expression said that she could expect more than just the coffee.

  “One thing at a time,” she said. “Java first.”

  “Okay. I’ll go get some arnica for your eye.”

  They didn’t spend the whole day in bed. They made lunch from the leftovers Tommy’s mother had sent. Tommy made a few calls.

  One of them was to Bernie. When he hung up, he told her that Larry had been arraigned on charges of conspiracy. Bernie had gone to the jail that morning to bail him out.

  “Does that mean he doesn’t think Larry was involved in the arson?” She didn’t mind if he didn’t believe Kurtz, but she’d hate it if he thought she was lying.

  “No. It just means Larry couldn’t make bail. Bernie’s loyal.”

  “After what Larry’s done?” said J.T. “That’s a fierce kind of loyalty.”

  “It grows like that around here.”

  The press started calling in the afternoon. “It must be a slow news day,” said Tommy.

  But J.T. was glad people still took an interest in his life. It would be gone, she knew, soon enough. And so would she.

  Skinny had called so many times that she finally gave up and answered. “I’m working on it,” she said. And hung up.

  She borrowed Tommy’s laptop and composed her last installment sitting cross-legged on his bed.

  Maybe she’d come back to see how it all turned out. But that would be weeks or months from now. And she had a job to get to, other stories to cover. Plus, there was the whole new field of freelancing, which she planned to take full advantage of.

  She typed while Tommy nibbled on her neck, sneaked a feel under her T-shirt, and made racy comments. She wondered how he could be so playful when he hadn’t even gone to the steel mill to see the damage in the daylight.

  But he had. As soon as she asked him, he confessed that he’d driven over while she was still asleep.

  “You should have wakened me. I would have gone with you.”

  “I know. But you looked so peaceful. And anyway, I wanted to see what it would be like coming home to you.” He gave her a look that scared her socks off. Or would have if she’d been wearing any.

  “So how did you like it?” She didn’t mean to ask, but she had to know.

  “I liked it.” He turned and left the bedroom.

  Okay. Time to put on her clothes. Get dressed and get going. Except that she didn’t have any clothes. She crossed to the door and stuck her head into the hall. “Could I borrow some sweats and could you take me to my motel?”

  He stopped on the stairs. “No. I mean—you can have some sweats. Bottom drawer. But you can’t go back to your motel room.”

  “Why? Do you think Larry will try to kill me?”

  He looked startled, then shook his head and continued down the stairs.

  Odd, thought J.T., and went to look for something to wear.

  It was while she was searching for her shoes that she saw the blue binder on the dresser top.

  All of her articles had been reorganized and returned. Tommy must have found it and brought it here. Which meant he’d gone after her. She tried not to make too much of it. Tommy was a considerate kind of man.

  “You’re good,’” said Tommy from the doorway. J.T. jumped. “You read them?”

  Tommy nodded. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not, but—”

  He stepped inside and tilted his head. “You have a passion for more than just baseball. You have a passion for the people. Did you ever think about publishing them?”

  She hadn’t until yesterday. She hadn’t thought anyone would be interested.

  “Actually, I’ve had an offer for three of them from three different magazines, with the possibility of more.” And she was pretty damn proud of the fact.

  She’d done it all on her own merit, not on her father’s reputation. Tommy’s situation may have been the catalyst, but the work had been all hers.

  He seemed to be struggling to say something. He stepped toward her. Stopped. “Does that mean you won’t be writing for Skinny anymore?”

  J.T. laughed. “Three articles will hardly pay the rent. I’ll write for Skinny if he still wants me.” She liked the idea of freelancing, breaking out, but she wasn’t ready. “At least until I see whether I can make a decent living at the other.”

  “Oh,” said Tommy
, and drove her to the Holiday Inn.

  Two days later, the mill property was released by the insurance company. Nothing like having a little clout to get things expedited. Tommy had hired a local demolition company to gut the steel mill, and they started work the same day.

  J.T. stayed at Tommy’s for those nights. She knew it was temporary and she tried not to get used to it. Tommy was certainly getting used to it. But she knew better than to make assumptions. Assumptions had almost gotten his factory burned down.

  They went over to the site to watch the progress of the demolition and found the curb filled with bumper-to-bumper cars. Tommy drove into the lot where two huge Dumpsters and several pieces of large machinery were positioned near the burned-out annex. And between the Dumpster and the building was a line of people, moving rubbish along a human conveyor belt.

  “What’s going on?” Tommy asked the nearest hard hat.

  “Just started showing up. I told them that my insurance wouldn’t cover them if they got hurt.”

  “And we told you what you could do with your insurance, didn’t we?” It was the man Tommy had introduced to her at Sal’s. Ed. His wife, Annie, was beside him. Mr. Harris was also there and Mr. McClain and other people she’d never seen before. Men and women of all ages, all wearing work gloves.

  “It’s like a barn raising,” said J.T., choking up. God, she loved these people. Even if they didn’t love her.

  J.T. and Tommy borrowed pairs of work gloves and joined the line.

  They could have finished a lot faster using a backhoe, but J.T. knew that when the last piece of broken glass was dropped into the Dumpster, when the last charred fragment of wood had been tossed in after it, the people of Gilbeytown would have a special commitment to the community center because they had been a part of its birth.

  The foreman was careful to keep them all away from dangerous places, and he absolutely refused to let the men help with the larger bulk garbage. Other than that, he seemed to take their help in stride.

  Around four o’clock, several more cars arrived. Grace, Rose, and Eugenia got out of one of the cars and Tommy went to meet them.

 

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