Another Man's Treasure

by Anna Kittrell

  ****

  “All right, spit it out.”

  Charis widened her eyes at her friend.

  “Drop the innocent act. You didn’t invite me over here to play patty cake. If you’ve got something to say, say it. All this beating around the bush is setting my teeth on edge.”

  Charis averted her gaze to Kinko, curled up in a little black ball on her cushion in the corner. Still feeling Daphne’s eyes on her, Charis returned her gaze.

  “Yeah, I’m still here,” Daphne said.

  “Okay, okay.” Charis sighed. “There is a point to my rambling. I’ve decided to do something…out of character for me.”

  “You’re becoming a pole dancer?” Daphne asked, forehead creased.

  “Good guess, but, no. It’s something that might be considered wrong by most people—but I’m doing it for the right reason.”

  “‘There is no right way to do a wrong thing.’ That was posted on the marquee at the Nazarene church last week. I saw it when I was driving by. Have to say I agree with it.”

  “Normally I’d agree too, but this is different.” Charis gave a little shrug.

  Daphne shoved back against the couch and rolled her head from side to side. “You’re doing it again. First you dump all this information about Mr. B in my lap for no apparent reason, telling me every little thing he likes and dislikes, right down to his TV programs. Disclosing his food allergies, medication schedule and how often he goes to the can. And now you’re blabbing about doing something wrong, in a right way. Throw me a bone, here.”

  “You’re right.” Charis twisted her hair into a tight knot, plucked a pencil from the telephone table and skewered the bun. “Okay, here goes. I’m confessing to Vic’s murder.”

  Daphne’s red mouth fell open. Charis pictured it hitting the floor, like on cartoons.

  “Think about it, Daph. They’ll go easy on me. I was a battered woman. Vic Locke abused me repeatedly, and there are witnesses who will testify to that. I had a motive for killing him, a pretty good one, if you ask me. I was beaten, threatened, scared for my life. That’s where the surge of strength came from when I hurled him into that dumpster. I was motivated by fear.”

  Daphne looked at her as if she was speaking Chinese. “You will do no such thing.”

  “I’ve made up my mind. I can’t let Deason waste away in prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”

  “How do you know he’ll waste away in prison? There’s a good chance he’ll serve only a sliver of the time he’s given. That is if he’s even convicted. I think the jury will see right through his trumped up charges.”

  “I’m not so confident. Deason has a previous record. Not to mention he found Vic’s body and wallet. The court will argue that no one had a motive for pinning Vic’s murder on Deason. For the life of me, I can’t think of anyone who would want to frame him either, with the exception of his ex-wife. And I get the feeling she’s not that creative. Plus, I think she likes herself too much to risk getting caught.”

  “So I’m supposed to just sit back and allow you go to prison for a murder you didn’t commit, instead of letting Deason go to prison for a murder he didn’t commit? Isn’t that a bit redundant?”

  “Daphne, I’m serious about this. I might go away for a year or two, max, before I’m paroled, and then Deason and I can be together. The time I serve will more than likely not even be in prison. Probably a women’s facility of some kind. If I serve any time at all. Deason is looking at twenty to life, very possibly in maximum security.”

  “You’ve been Googling cases online, haven’t you? Good god, Charis, how can you be so naïve? You can’t believe everything you hear or everything you read on Wikipedia. You’re biting off more than you can chew here. What happens if the jury convicts you and you end up with the life sentence? What then?”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “And what about old Mr. Barnaby? Who knows how much time he has left?”

  “That’s where you come in. I want you to take care of Mr. B. You went to nursing school the same as I did. Plus, he trusts you. I’m going to talk to Wendell about it when he visits after my arrest. Or maybe I’ll leave him a note.”

  “I dropped out of nursing school, remember? And who’ll run the pet shop while I’m taking care of Mr. B? Lord knows Ma can’t handle it alone. Well…she could, but then I’d have to hear about how she suffers through it every freaking day for the rest of my life. Course, Stevie can come in and help after school. Hell’s bells, now you’ve got me thinking crazy too.”

  “Daphne. I’ve never asked you for anything before. This is the only way. Trust me. I have a feeling it’s going to work out.”

  Daphne crossed her arms and set her jaw, her foot bouncing restlessly in front of the sofa. “Know what? You and Deason are made for each other. The scapegoat and the sacrificial lamb. How endearing.”

  Charis grinned, despite the looming what-ifs that took turns crushing her heart like fists. What if Daphne was right and things didn’t go quite like she’d planned? What if she lost Deason before she ever really had him? What if he found out about her intentions and tried to stop her?

  “I don’t need to inform you that this is strictly confidential. I mean, you’re the only one I’ve told, so if it gets back to Deason…”

  Daphne rolled her eyes. Then she reluctantly crossed her heart.

  ****

  Deason chucked a stick through the trees, laughing as Kink tore over the grass after it, scattering the fallen leaves. “Bring it here, girl,” he called.

  “She’s loving this.” Charis smiled as the dog returned and hopped around Deason’s feet, twig in her mouth. “It’s obvious how much she’s missed you.”

  “I’ve missed her too. We’ve been through a lot together.” He tossed the twig into the tree line. “And my dog isn’t the only beautiful girl I’ve missed.” He turned to Charis and tipped her chin, covered her mouth with his. Kinko pawed his shins, tugged his pant leg with her teeth. Deason broke the kiss. “Sorry. I think someone’s jealous.”

  Charis knelt and scratched the dog’s head. “It’s okay. I don’t blame her. I’d be jealous too, if you were spending time with another girl instead of me.”

  Deason’s gut clenched. For a moment, he thought Charis’s words might have a double meaning. Did she know he’d seen Gabriella? With the preliminary hearing coming up Tuesday, he’d be spending even more time with her over the next couple of days. Crowley would need to meet with them both together.

  Deason wanted so much to tell Charis about the new developments in his case, how Gabriella knew who’d set him up, even though she wasn’t quite ready to reveal his name. How she’d been forced, threatened with murder charges or death, to help the bastard carry out his scheme.

  He looked at Charis, hair lifting in the breeze as she patted his dog. The thought of her hearing through the grapevine about him going to see Gabby, of her thinking he still had feelings for his ex-wife, terrified him. But bad as he wanted to, he couldn’t tell her about Gabriella’s testimony. He didn’t even know who this “Trips” was yet. Besides, Gabby might be timid and shaking at the moment, but she was volatile. A character trait Deason hadn’t soon forgotten. She could turn on a dime, lash out, draw blood. He didn’t want Charis anywhere near when that happened.

  “There’s no one on earth I’d rather spend time with.” Deason offered his hand, pulled her up from her knees. “Are you ready to eat?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Sure. What’d you bring?” She shook out the quilt he’d brought, spreading it on the ground.

  “Sit down and I’ll show you.”

  Charis lounged on one hip, curled her legs beside her. “The stitching is beautiful.” She ran her fingers over the intricate patchwork.

  “Yeah, I think so too. My grandma made it for me when I was a kid. As an afterthought, I grabbed it when I moved out of my folks’ house. I’m really glad I took it with me, or else—” He stopped short. “Pretty out her
e, isn’t it?” he asked, changing the subject as he lowered onto the quilt.

  “Gorgeous. I love the trees, especially this time of year, the leaves floating down.” She gazed at the canopy above them. “And even though I can’t see the lake from here, I can hear the waves lapping the shoreline. Such a soothing sound.” She closed her eyes as if to listen. Deason took the opportunity to open the picnic basket. Between glances at her beautiful face, he quickly arranged the wine, cheese, bread and fruit on the quilt.

  “This side of the lake is practically deserted most of the time, even in the summer months. No one seems to care for navigating around potholes and wash-outs to get here.”

  Charis opened her eyes. “Oh!” She clasped a surprised hand over her mouth as she looked at the food. “This is fantastic.”

  “Just a little something I threw together,” he shrugged.

  “How about you pour us a glass of that wine?” She motioned to the Cabernet in the middle of the arrangement.

  “We seem to have a little problem.”

  “Uh-oh. You forgot the corkscrew?”

  “No. The glasses.”

  She chuckled. “That’s not a problem for me.”

  He returned her grin and reached for the bottle then rummaged around in the basket for the corkscrew. He uncorked it, the sound causing Kinko to growl low from her curled position under a tree.

  “Almost forgot. Hold this while I leash Kink. Don’t want her taking off after a squirrel and getting lost.”

  He handed the bottle to Charis and pulled the dog’s leash out of the basket. Kink didn’t so much as raise an ear as he looped the chain around the tree and fastened it to her collar. “That was easier than I thought.” He turned to find Charis drinking straight from the wine bottle, fingers wrapping the bottleneck, full lips kissing the opening. His breath caught. He lowered to the quilt, struggled to find a comfortable position.

  “Nice,” she approved softly, wiping her moist lips with the back of her hand. “I hope you don’t mind.” She handed him the bottle. He swore the wine must’ve already made it to her head, weighting her lids, heightening her color, slurring her speech just enough to drive him wild. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  He took the Cabernet from her and drank deeply, aroused by the knowledge her lips had touched the rim an instant before his, believing he could still taste her there. Feeling her gaze on him, he leaned the bottle against the exposed root of a tree and turned to her. Her eyes, impossibly blue, captured his gaze, and then moved slowly down his body, sipping him like the wine.

  Deason drew closer, brushing stray hair from her face. She covered his hand with hers, pressing his palm against her cheek, closing her eyes. He caressed her cheekbone, aware of his rough palm against her soft-as-silk skin. With a little moan, she slid his hand to her mouth, stroking his fingers softly across her lips. Little puffs of air scorched his skin, her breath hot as she nibbled his fingers then drew the tips into her mouth.

  With a groan, he swept the food from the center of the blanket and reclined, pulling her down. Her hungry kisses, laced with wine, intensified his slow smolder, fueling the fire until flames burned wild, nearly out of control. He explored her perfect body, stroked the curves beneath her thin pink sweater. The soft fabric caught on his coarse palms, zipping sparks through him.

  Craving her skin, he peeled away the sweater. She arched into him as he reached around, unfastening her bra. Snaking her hands between their bodies, she unbuttoned his shirt while his tongue danced along her neck.

  He laid her gently down, unbuttoned her jeans, his hands tingling as he slid them over her firm thighs. He smoothed the denim over her calves then removed her shoes. She chuckled low as he lightly tickled the soles of her feet before tugging the legs of her jeans free. He paused to wrench off his boots, and then tenderly kissed his way back up to her white panties, dragging them slowly down, in awe of the flesh he gradually revealed.

  Charis slid her fingers into his waistband, unfastened his Levi’s. His heart inflated in his chest as he gazed down at her, hair spread around her flawless face, Montana-sky eyes intently on him as she lowered his jeans. He helped her, rising to his knees, tugging down the fabric. Her gaze swept to his underwear as she circled her fingers up and down his thighs, working inward until she held him in her hands. Killing him softly with her caress, she glided the soft cotton down his legs.

  She moaned as he lowered himself onto her, his breath ragged, his hands exploring her body as he trailed kisses over her skin. He rolled over with her, reaching up to touch her angelic face as she smiled at him, her eyes tender. He pulled her down, covered her mouth with his as her hair fell over him, a shelter from the uncertain world. He plunged his hands into it, running his fingers through the silky strands, appetite whet by the aroma of sun-warmed strawberries.

  She inhaled through her teeth, the hiss of breath followed by a deep moan as she moved in concert with him. He grasped her hips, astonished at the way her body comprehended his desires, as if he’d whispered his intimate yearnings into her ear. She pulled upright, eyes stormy. Lightning anticipating thunder.

  Deason’s soul unfurled, escaping the knot he’d tied long ago. He groaned, overwhelmed by a connection he never knew existed. Above, leaves jumped into focus suddenly sharp and clear as if the world was adjusting its sights.

  Charis tossed her head and cried out, a soft mixture of sob and laughter then collapsed on him, covering him once more in the shelter of her hair. Her breath jagged out while Deason’s sucked in, his flesh sensitive to the shockwave-like twinges rippling her body.

  He wrapped her in his arms, crushing her to him. He wouldn’t let go, couldn’t let go. Things would work out—they had to. To live in a cage with newly sprouted wings on his heart couldn’t be his destiny. It was too cruel. Fate had enjoyed her last laugh at his expense. It was his turn.

  ****

  Charis cuddled close to Deason’s side. She loved how right she felt, how incredible they were together. Her hand wandered over his remarkable body, caressing his skin. She dragged her fingertips across his chest, down his shoulder, stroked the puckered skin at the bend of his elbow then traced the scar down the length of his arm. “Please tell me what happened,” she whispered.

  “Don’t worry about old wounds.” He moved her hand up to his shoulder and pulled her tight against him. “We’re together. That’s all that matters right now.”

  She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart, wondering why he kept so many secrets tucked away in its chambers. It hurt that he’d hide something from her, especially now, after the intimacy they’d shared.

  A rush of shame followed the thought, reminding her to shoo the skeletons from her own closet before complaining about the cobwebs in his. She had secrets too, and a trumped-up murder confession topped the heap. Still, she was curious. She pulled up, rested an elbow on his chest and looked at him, really looked at him, wondering what could be hiding behind those golden-green eyes.

  Deason’s ex-wife popped into her mind with her mahogany hair and caramel skin. Had they made love on this same quilt? She pictured Deason with Gabriella, the two of them together, naked, enjoying one another.

  She forced the image away, wondering what was wrong with her. It wasn’t in her nature to be jealous. Not to mention, Deason couldn’t stand the sight of his ex. She’d made such a negative impact in his life he’d lost all respect for her. Even so, Gabriella had left quite an impression.

  Charis wondered what kind of impression she was making on Deason. How long would he remember her if her plan went awry and she was locked away? Would his love burn for her as passionately as his hatred burned for Gabriella? She wanted desperately to make an impact on his heart.

  “Let’s go for a swim.”

  He looked at her as if she’d gone crazy. “Excuse me?”

  “Swimming. Let’s skinny dip.” She sat up, gathered the food he’d swept to the edge of the quilt into the picnic basket.

 
; “It’s October, the water’s freezing.”

  Charis stood, folded their clothes over a tree branch, unleashed Kinko. “We’ll move her closer to the water so we can keep an eye on her.” She liked the way Deason’s eyes danced over her nude body. She stooped, grabbed his hands, pulled him up. “Come on, it’ll be fun. A little cold water never hurt anyone.”

  “Speak for yourself.” He chuckled, gesturing to his most sensitive area. He shook out the quilt, draped it over their shoulders then pulled Charis to his side. Together they followed the red-dirt path through the trees to the shoreline, Kinko leading the way.

  Charis tied Kink to a tree near the shore. “Ready?” she asked, trying not to think about the temperature of the water.

  “Why are we doing this, again?” Deason asked, his eyes sparkling.

  “Because it’s exciting,” she answered. “Don’t try and deny that gleam of adventure I see in your eyes.”

  “I haven’t done anything this crazy since I was a kid.”

  “My point exactly. One… Two… Three.” They dropped the quilt and charged, screaming and squealing into the frigid lake.

  The cold water snatched Charis’s breath and she shivered violently, goose bumps pimpling every inch of her skin.

  Kinko barked from shore as Deason wrapped his arms around Charis, pulling her to him.

  “You are one wild woman,” he said against her skin, warm breath sending a shudder through her naked body.

  “I wanted to make an impression,” she rattled out through chattering teeth.

  Deason chuckled. “Mission accomplished.” He smoothed the wet hair from her face and looked into her eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you. Beautiful, strong, unselfish. Everything a man could possibly want in a woman. I see how much you care about your friends and watch your face light up when you talk about Mr. Barnaby and I just want to...to…” He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her.

  She locked her arms around his neck. He pressed his naked body to hers in the water, rushing her with warmth, melting away her goose bumps. She circled her legs around him inviting him in, a little cry escaping into his mouth he entered her.