Deadly Games

by Mary Stone

  But then, Jerry had called her bright and early that morning, asking if he could be of service in any way. He sounded so like a knight in shining armor, she couldn’t resist. Suddenly, she had a lot more energy and couldn’t wait to see the dashing doctor again.

  When Kylie had brought her home the day before, she’d viewed the contents of her fridge to see if she had enough, since the supermarket was where she’d been headed when she’d been mowed down. Kylie had determined that she would be fine, for at least the next few days. But Kylie’s idea of a full fridge differed drastically from Rhonda’s, and Rhonda simply couldn’t refuse such a kind offer. So, she’d said, “I could use a ride to the supermarket, as I have a few odds and ends to pick up.”

  To which he’d replied, “My pleasure. I’ll pick you up at say, noon?”

  He’d arrived just when he said he would, driving a luxury BMW the likes of which Rhonda had never been a passenger in. By the time he arrived, she’d changed clothes a dozen times and found that putting on makeup with a sprained wrist and a bunch of aches wasn’t exactly easy. But she’d managed and was well-rewarded. When he arrived, he came to the door with a bouquet of irises.

  She nearly swooned, and it had nothing to do with the Vicodin or her banged-up knee.

  They’d had such a lovely time, chatting over coffee at the little café inside Harris Teeter. Then he’d helped her with her entire trip, taking her through the store and to the Publix so that she was able to get everything on her list. He’d insisted she use one of those mobile scooters, and he’d pushed the cart, patiently reading over her list with her and reaching up to the high shelves to get things that were out of Rhonda’s reach.

  When he helped her inside, she thought it only right that she invite him to dinner. Lasagna, of course, since it was her specialty, and she’d wanted to impress him.

  He accepted, delighted.

  So now, they’d spent a full eight hours together, and the night was growing long. She remembered vaguely, when she was a kid, all those awkward moments she’d had with boys at the end of a date, anticipating that first kiss. As night started to fall, all of those worries came back to her. The last time she’d dated was approximately a million years ago. What did people do nowadays, at the end of dates? A kiss? A handshake? Did they even date anymore? Maybe they just hopped into bed together and then watched movies later.

  Oh, she didn’t even want to think about sleeping with a man. It’d been so long. Too long. She probably wouldn’t even know what to do.

  Kylie would probably know all the answers to the questions buzzing around inside Rhonda’s head. She wished she’d talked to her about these things, but she’d done very well for a long time, pretending she was a saint. How awkward would it be, asking her own daughter for sex tips?

  No, she would just navigate this uncharted territory on her own. As bumpy as the ride might be. Perhaps Jerry was in the same boat. He’d lost his wife of twenty years to breast cancer two years earlier. He might not have been as rusty as Rhonda was, but maybe he had the same worries and reservations she had.

  Luckily, Jerry made for easy company, so she didn’t have time to dwell on all those dating worries. He was an easy conversationalist, a born storyteller, making her laugh in a way that Adam had so long before. The hours seemed to just slip by.

  When dinner was over, gentleman that Jerry was, he offered to clear and do the dishes. “Please. You’re recuperating. Let me take care of these,” he said as the phone began to ring. Again. For some reason, it’d been ringing off the hook today, but it was probably some of her old friends, who’d heard through the grapevine about her accident and wanted to gossip. She normally loved gossip, but now, she wasn’t interested. “Want me to get that?”

  “No, it’s nothing important, I’m sure. Just let it go to voicemail.” She limped out to the kitchen and sat at the center island to guide him as to where to put the pots and pans when they were washed and dried. “Are you sure I can’t help?”

  “No. This is the least I can do after that amazing meal. Please.”

  As she watched him work at the sink, wearing her pink rubber gloves, she had to admit, he pulled them off well. And maybe it was that she was older, or that he had a kind, self-deprecating sense of humor, but whatever it was, she wasn’t as nervous as she could have been, considering she hadn’t felt this way about a man in decades. “I have to say, you’re very good at that.”

  “At what? Washing dishes?” He gave her a sexy wink.

  She winked back. “I didn’t know men…my ex…Kylie’s father didn’t set foot in the kitchen.” Now why did she have to bring him up? She wanted to throttle herself.

  “Ah. Well, I feel like the kitchen is the heart of the house. Not all men are afraid of this room.”

  She felt a little silly. “Well. I don’t know. You see…I haven’t been on a date in…” she trailed off. “I don’t know. Is this even a date?”

  He laughed. “I guess that’s what they call it. I haven’t, either. So I guess we’re alike in that way.”

  She laughed too, relieved.

  When he opened his mouth to speak next, she thought he would compliment the meal again, as he’d been raving about her lasagna nonstop for the past hour. Instead, he said something that completely mystified her. “Did you know there’s a police car outside your house?”

  She slipped off the stool and limped over to the window. The sun was setting, but sure enough, there was a car across the street, and a young officer’s form was visible in the driver’s seat. “Hmm,” she said, losing interest. “Maybe it’s for one of my neighbors. I’m not exactly on anyone’s most wanted list.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said with another of those sexy winks, making her stomach flutter in a way it hadn’t since she was a teen.

  She limped over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pie. This one was store-bought since she hadn’t had time to make one of her specialties, but it would have to do. Jerry seemed the easygoing type, who wouldn’t mind at all, and that was what she liked about him. Actually, she liked so many things about him, it was starting to scare her. She hadn’t even liked this many things about Adam—she could distinctly remember thinking he was kind of crass and not her type the first time she’d met him.

  But Jerry? If she’d have written a list of things she wanted in a man, it’d have looked something like…well, him.

  She tried to tamp down the excitement inside her in order to at least make it through the date without fawning like a starry-eyed teenager. She knew she’d been scaring Kylie by how quickly she’d succumbed to his charm, and she had to at least fight the good fight, for Kylie’s sake.

  As she was attempting to cross to the dining room, Jerry whipped off the pink gloves and tsked at her. “Allow me, Rhonda. You really should be resting in your condition.”

  In her condition? She hadn’t felt this good in years.

  She smiled and sat, then instructed him where in the breakfront she kept the teacups, saucers, and dessert plates. He laid everything out in just the way she would have, then cut her a slice. He was so very neat, methodical. Adam had always been a bit of a slob, and from her limited knowledge of men, she’d always assumed most men were. This was a surprising and welcome change.

  As he was placing the plate in front of her, the phone began to ring again.

  She groaned. “As you can tell, I have very persistent friends,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure they heard about my accident and they’re all just offering to help me out.”

  “That’s good that you have such thoughtful friends. You sure you don’t want me to get it?” he said, pouring her some tea. “I don’t mind.”

  She sighed. They’d been having such a nice conversation that she didn’t want anyone else to intrude. “All right. But I don’t feel like talking to them. Just tell them I’m resting and I’ll call them back tomorrow.”

  “Sure,” he said, standing and walking into the kitchen, where the phone was attached to the wal
l. As soon as he disappeared, the doorbell rang. He called out, “Busy lady, you are! Why don’t I get that instead?”

  Rhonda struggled to her feet. “I swear, I can’t remember a time when I’ve been this popular!” she exclaimed as she limped to the phone. Jerry had gone to the foyer to open the door, so she lifted the phone from the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Mom?”

  It was Kylie. She sounded far away, and she could hear the tension in her voice. “Kylie, what’s the problem? Was that you who’s been calling?”

  “Yes,” she said, the word clipped. “I needed to talk to you. Listen. I’m just getting on the plane from New York.”

  “New York? You mean…did you go to…don’t tell me you went to track him down. You’re just asking for trouble!”

  “Rhonda,” Jerry called from the foyer. She looked up.

  The rest of her daughter’s words were lost as Rhonda craned her neck to look into the foyer and spotted a policeman standing in the doorway.

  She blinked.

  Well, here comes trouble, she thought.

  “What does he want?” she mouthed.

  “This officer needs to speak to you,” Jerry said.

  She realized her daughter had spoken at the same time, when Kylie suddenly paused and said, “Did you get all that?”

  “Actually, no. Kylie, hon. There’s a police officer at my door. Can I call you back?”

  Her daughter let out an exasperated sigh. “That’s what I was just saying, Mom. Linc called Jacob to have a patrol officer put there. He’s there to check on you and make sure everything’s okay.”

  She let the words sink in, trying to make sense of them. “I don’t understand. Everything’s just fine. Why do I need police surveillance, Kylie? What’s going on?”

  “I can’t explain right now. Just make sure you stay put and listen to the officer. He’s there to protect you. I’ll be over as soon as I can, and I’ll fill you in on everything. Okay?”

  “Yes, honey, but protect me from what? You didn’t run into any trouble in New York, did you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Sorry, Mom. I’ve got to go. Just…be safe.”

  Safe…from what? Or whom?

  Rhonda opened her mouth to ask that question, but Kylie had already ended the call. She looked down the hallway, to the burly young officer silhouetted in the doorway. “Can you tell me, young man, just what are you keeping me safe from?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, ma’am. I’m just under orders to keep an eye on you. I’ll be across the street, and I won’t be going anywhere all night. If you need anything, you just let me know.”

  “Thank you,” she said before the officer retreated down the driveway, and she and Jerry watched him leave. When she started to close the door, she gave the doctor a confused look.

  “Well, my dear,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “Hit by a car, now under police surveillance. Never a dull moment with you, is there?”

  She didn’t know what to say. Maybe Kylie’s knack for getting into trouble was rubbing off on her, because this was more excitement than she’d seen in all of Kylie’s twenty-four years.

  Now, she wasn’t worried at all about that goodnight kiss. She had other things on her mind.

  She locked the door tight and turned to face the man she was inexplicitly attracted to. “Let’s finish up dessert so you can be on your way. I think you’re right. I think I may just need to have a little rest.”

  25

  William had to take an extra-long lunch to meet with his daughter in Central Park. That alone was suspicious—he didn’t take long lunches, or any lunches, for that matter. Funny, for a company with his name on it, he had surprisingly little power within these walls. When he came in through the lobby, he made sure to do it with his head up, returning any friendly hellos.

  He needed to act normal.

  All it would take was for one of them to let slip to the family that he’d been gone longer than usual, and heads would roll.

  Namely, his.

  When he got within sight of the double doors to his office, he started to breathe easier. He’d made it. Everything would be fine.

  He told himself that until he pushed open the door to his office and saw Dennis DeRoss sitting in his chair, elbows on the desk, hands tented under his chin. “Hello, Billy,” Dennis said, his voice full of menace.

  William’s blood went cold.

  Dennis DeRoss wouldn’t have ordinarily been a frightening person. He was small, short, and ugly, like his father, Jackie. He had a hooknose, slightly off-center, and his hairline had receded so much in the past few years that it was clear he was way past his prime. Even when he was younger, William had always thought he looked like a dark, slinky weasel. But it wasn’t his business partner and brother-in-law’s appearance that had William’s bones shaking in his skin.

  It was his family.

  The family he’d been forced to marry into so many years ago.

  He may have been welcomed into the family, but he still wasn’t one of them. He was a second-class citizen in their book. He’d been that way from the moment they cleaned him up and put him forever in their debt.

  As Dennis glared at him, demanding an explanation without saying a word, William thought back to the first time he’d met him, when he was on his garbage route in Brooklyn. He’d just been taking care of business when he’d seen Dennis, dressed sharply in a suit and tie, leaving one of the businesses they serviced. He’d stood out in that crappy neighborhood, in his fancy outfit and new BMW, and all William could think was how if he had that kind of life, he’d have it made.

  Their route was almost over, so he’d taken a few minutes to talk to him, and at the end of the conversation, Dennis had given him his card. “Call me,” he’d said. “Our business is always looking for good, trustworthy men like you.”

  He’d called the second he got off work, praying that this was his ticket out of his shitty life.

  It was the first of many mistakes he wished he’d never made. The day after that, his life changed, and kept changing, until he was virtually unrecognizable from that stupid kid who used to collect people’s trash.

  What he wouldn’t give, he thought, to talk to that stupid kid and shake some sense into him. Sure, they’d been poor, but his life back then hadn’t been so shitty after all.

  He gathered his courage and shot the bastard a smile. “Hey, Dennis. You caught me coming back from lunch.”

  “Did I?” His voice was a low rumble.

  Those two words said it all. He didn’t believe William one bit. In fact, just Dennis being here was a bad thing. His partner was a silent one, and usually conducted all of his business from his sprawling home in Connecticut, away from the city. He only came to Midtown when he had skulls to crush.

  After his conversation with Kylie, he knew his skull was definitely on the line.

  “Yeah. It’s been a crazy day. Had to take a walk and clear my head a little,” he said with a weak laugh.

  “Oh yeah? Problems with the company?”

  If only that was all he had to worry about. No, the company ran like clockwork. He barely needed to do a thing, as he was just the de facto leader, a stooge. In fact, his knowledge of construction was entirely inconsequential in this position.

  “Yeah,” he lied, advancing toward his desk, “but nothing I can’t handle. Why are you here? Problems?”

  He waited for Dennis to vacate his chair, but he didn’t. “You can say that,” Dennis said, pushing away from the desk. Instead of standing up, though, he lifted his feet onto the shiny surface, crossing them at the ankle, and laced his hands behind his head, making himself comfortable.

  Classic Dennis. The man loved his shoes and did everything possible to show them off. When they’d first met, he’d told William he didn’t wear anything but custom Italian leather that ran north of ten-thousand dollars. “Shoes make the man,” he’d said.

  He’d tried to get William into it, but William preferred to
spend money on suits instead. William looked at those shoes, resting so easily on his blotter, and swallowed as Dennis said the name that made his entire body tense like a steel rod.

  “Jackie’s not happy.”

  Jackie DeRoss, his father-in-law.

  He’d been in prison on a murder charge for over a decade, but that didn’t stop him from managing things outside his cell walls. William assumed someone must’ve bought off the warden or guards, because he managed quite well from Rikers Island, doling out his orders to his underlings and keeping the family strong.

  He made Marlon Brando look like a sweet old grandpa.

  William cleared his throat. “That’s a shame. And what is he not happy about?”

  Dennis laughed. “I think you know. My father doesn’t have a lot of rules, Billy. The first and only rule is that family comes first. That’s it. You got it?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Dennis’s face transformed into a blank mask that was more horrifying than any scowl. “No, I don’t think you do. Because if you knew that, you wouldn’t have been playing games with us all these years.”

  William tried to draw breath into his lungs, but it was like his entire body was frozen. “I have been loyal to your family for decades. I’ve never done a thing against you or your father.”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Billy. You have a wife that ain’t my sister. And a daughter too. We know all about them. We know where you were just now. We know everything.”

  Panic was like a hand at William’s throat. “That was my old life. I swear, I tried to tell you. But then she left me, and I didn’t think—”

  “Bullshit, Billy. You really thought you could get away with that? We know you married her before you married Christina. And I can tell you right now, Jackie’s not happy you kept your first marriage a secret all this time. You know how big he is on trust.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I can explain.”

  “No, you can’t. There is no explanation needed, Billy. You fucked us. And bad things happen when family members play games. It’s…deadly. You should know that by now.”