Almost Heaven

by Charlotte Douglas

MJ closed her eyes. “Let’s get it over with.”

  “According to my contact at the local New Jersey police department, Ginger filed stalking complaints against several men. When the P.D. investigated, they discovered that the men whom Ginger had claimed were stalking her were rejected lovers, guys she had met in the chat rooms. She’d had an online affair with each of them, exchanging sex chat that eventually evolved into phone sex and actual in-person rendezvous.”

  MJ shuddered with revulsion.

  “If she was giving them what they wanted,” Grant said, “why were they stalking her?”

  “They weren’t, actually,” Brynn explained. “Once Ginger tired of them or they insisted on marrying her, filing charges was her way of getting rid of them.”

  MJ shook her head, confused. “Why get rid of them if their attention’s what she wanted?”

  Brynn scowled. “Seems Ginger was anxious only for the thrill of the chase and the booty it provided. These men had given her expensive gifts, taken her on luxurious trips and asked her to marry them.”

  “Whoa.” Grant tipped back in his chair and scratched his head. “Am I missing something? You said she met these guys in chat rooms for married people. If they’re married already, how could they marry her?”

  “After they divorce their wives.” Brynn scowled. “That’s the really crazy part. Ginger Parker is one sick puppy. She apparently loves the chase, the power and control of leading men on, breaking up their marriages, then leaving them in her dust.”

  Bile rose in MJ’s throat and she swallowed hard against it. “What kind of monster is she?”

  “A very twisted one.” Brynn, who didn’t have a dog in this particular hunt, hadn’t lost her appetite. She was polishing off the last of the peas with a piece of cornbread. “I checked with the psychiatrist our department contracts with. According to him, women like Ginger are addicted to married men because they fear genuine emotional involvement. With a married man, the relationship is always tentative, somewhere off in the future, based on what’s going to happen down the road, once the guy gets his divorce—”

  “Once he’s over the rebound from his wife.” A light had gone on when MJ recalled Ginger asking her dad to move out.

  Grant shook his head. “Why doesn’t Ginger just avoid men if she doesn’t want a relationship?”

  “That would spoil her fun,” Brynn explained. “The shrink says Ginger actually hates men. Her goal is to punish them for something that’s happened in her past—”

  “Her husband’s abuse?” MJ asked.

  “According to the shrink, it’s more likely something in her childhood,” Brynn said. “Like being abandoned by her father or physically or sexually abused by a male relative.”

  MJ shuddered and Grant reached across the table and grasped her hand. She found herself hanging on to him like a lifeline, soaking up his warmth to ward off the cold that gripped her.

  “So what we have is a good-news, bad-news scenario,” Grant said.

  Brynn nodded. “The good news is, once Ginger’s milked Merrilee’s dad for all the gifts and excitement she can, she’ll move on to her next victim. Actually, she probably already has several suckers dangling online, ready and waiting.”

  MJ struggled to speak past the anger that constricted her throat. “The bad news is, by the time Ginger drops him, my parents’marriage may be damaged beyond repair.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Grant cleared the table and poured coffee, his concern growing for Merrilee, who’d turned paler with each of Brynn’s revelations. Hell on earth, he decided, was watching someone you loved suffer and not being able to do a damned thing about it.

  Just as Merrilee was unable to rescue her folks, Grant felt powerless to ease her pain. And the worse her parents’ situation grew, the more his hopes of overcoming her fears of loving him dwindled. Witnessing her mother’s devastation had only intensified Merrilee’s determination to guard her own heart.

  But he couldn’t simply stand by and do nothing. Every problem had a solution if you searched hard enough for it. Grant had to find a way to bring his usually reasonable partner to his senses. And back to his wife.

  Grant handed Brynn cream for her coffee. “Why don’t you write up what you’ve learned? Merrilee could show her dad the facts and spoil Ginger’s fun.”

  “Nothing’s official,” Brynn said quickly, “except the stalking complaints Ginger filed. Everything else from my source was off the record.”

  Merrilee’s expression had brightened momentarily, but quickly dimmed. “Showing Dad the complaints could boomerang. He might feel sympathy for Ginger being hounded by those awful men. I can hear her now, rationalizing her behavior, just as she did hitting Gloria.”

  “Your dad’s living in a fantasy.” Grant longed for an instant cure to erase the pain in Merrilee’s eyes. “How do we bring him back to reality?”

  “Reality,” Brynn suggested, “would be Jim, Cat and Ginger in the same room. Hard for him to avoid facing facts under those circumstances.”

  “I can’t get Mom home from Asheville,” Merrilee said with obvious frustration, “much less in the same room with Dad. Even I can’t stay in the same room with him long before he’s off again.”

  His friend and partner’s marriage was crumbling before his eyes. And that disaster was strengthening every fear Merrilee had of commitment. Determined to solve both problems, Grant cast about for answers. His glance fell on the calendar hanging next to the refrigerator.

  “I have an idea,” he announced.

  “Nothing against the law,” Brynn warned in a facetious tone. “If it is, you’d better wait till I leave to discuss it.”

  “What do you have in mind?” The hope flaring in Merrilee’s eyes almost undid him.

  “A party,” he said.

  “A party?” Merrilee asked, and Brynn looked dubious.

  “A small, intimate dinner party.” Grant counted off the names on his fingers. “Merrilee, me, Jim and Cat, your nana…and Ginger.”

  “Whew!” Brynn shook her head. “That’s a lethal combination. How do you plan to pull it off?”

  “I’ll have the party here.” He turned his gaze to Merrilee. “To celebrate your birthday next week.”

  Merrilee flushed with apparent pleasure. “You remembered.”

  “I’ve never forgotten,” he said softly.

  From the corner of his eye, he caught Brynn looking from Merrilee to him and grinning like a cat that had fallen into a puddle of cream.

  Merrilee set her coffee cup on its saucer with a clatter and frowned. “It’ll never work.”

  “Why not?” Brynn asked.

  “Ginger won’t come if she knows Mom and Nana will be here,” Merrilee said.

  “Then we won’t tell her,” Grant said. “As far as Jim and Ginger are concerned, it will be just the four of us. And not even Jim can refuse an invitation from his partner to his own daughter’s birthday party.”

  “That’s lying,” Merrilee protested.

  Grant nodded. “Desperate times, desperate measures. If we tell your nana and mother the plan, do you think they’ll come?”

  Before Merrilee could respond, Brynn’s radio crackled to life.

  “Snowplow’s cleared the highway from town to the west end of the valley,” the dispatcher’s voice sounded in the room.

  “Ten-four,” Brynn responded and pushed back from the table. “I’ll leave you to plot while I get back to work. With all this ice and snow, it’s going to be a busy night.”

  Grant stood, too. “Before you go, there’s something I’d like you to check into.”

  As if sensing what he was about to ask, Merrilee’s eyes widened in alarm. “I told you I didn’t want…”

  Grant cut her off. “Brynn will keep things confidential. And I need to make sure you’re safe.”

  Brynn tensed, suddenly on full alert. “Safe? What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Merrilee said with a firmness that defied contradiction.

 
; Brynn looked from Merrilee to Grant. “Help me out here, folks. Is there a problem or not?”

  “You going to tell her?” Grant asked Merrilee. “Or should I?”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” Merrilee insisted.

  “You’ve inherited your father’s stubborn streak,” Grant said gently.

  Brynn was watching them both closely and Grant could almost see the gears turning behind her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows in a searing look that had to serve her well when grilling suspects. “This have anything to do with somebody letting the air out of your tires last week, Merrilee?”

  Grant had to give Brynn credit. The police officer’s mind operated like a computer, making connections at lightning speed. He glanced at Merrilee. “Well?”

  “Oh, all right,” she conceded and turned to Brynn. “Grant’s making a mountain out of a molehill. He wants me to tell you about threatening calls I’ve had.”

  “I’m listening,” Brynn said.

  Merrilee told Brynn what she’d shared with Grant earlier about the telephone threats. “I’m guessing it’s either Ginger trying to get rid of me or kids with too much time on their hands.”

  “Kids?” Brynn looked thoughtful, and Grant wondered if she had a suspect in mind. “Could be. I’ll check around. Let me know if the calls continue.” She donned coat, hat and gloves. “Thanks for supper, Grant. And good luck with your dinner party.”

  “Be careful out there,” Merrilee said.

  “See ya later.” Brynn touched her fingers to her cap in a salute. Mischief glinted in her eyes. “Y’all stay warm.”

  Grant watched until Brynn climbed into her SUV and drove off into the swirling snow, then he shut the door and returned to the living room. Merrilee had curled into the recliner by the fire, her expression un-readable but exhaustion evident in the weary slump of her shoulders. Fighting off his own fatigue, he sank into the rocker opposite her, too tired to speak. Gloria’s empty bed reproached him and he vowed to resume his search at dawn, whether the storm had passed or not.

  “You’re worried about Gloria, aren’t you?” The understanding in Merrilee’s voice soothed him.

  “And you, too,” he added.

  “The phone threats?”

  He nodded. “And the way you’re beating yourself up over your parents’ problems.”

  Merrilee sighed and the desolation in the sound went through him like a knife. “I can’t believe Daddy’s fallen for such a horrible woman.”

  “Ginger’s a master of deceit, according to Brynn. And she’s had plenty of practice manipulating men. Jim’s misfortune was running into someone like her when he was vulnerable.”

  Merrilee lifted her head. The flickering flames from the fireplace reflected in her eyes and cast a golden glow on her pale cheeks. She’d never looked more beautiful. Or more unhappy. Grant called on all his self-control to keep from sweeping her into his arms and carrying her upstairs to the bed in the loft. As much as he wanted her, now wasn’t the time. Racked by frustration, he wondered if he’d ever hold her again and love her as he’d ached to for six long years. Sex with Merrilee had been great, but he wanted more than the physical release of lovemaking. He wanted to cherish her, laugh with her, and spend the rest of his days with her at his side. He had a home, but the heart of it was missing without Merrilee.

  His life could be the lyrics of a country-western song. He’d lost his girl and he’d lost his dog. If it didn’t hurt so damned much, it would almost be funny.

  Merrilee’s voice interrupted his introspection. “Do you really think the dinner party idea will work?”

  “If your mom and nana will come, it might.”

  “Nana will see that Mom does,” Merrilee said. “But it’s risky. If I were Mom, I’d be tempted to scratch Ginger’s eyes out. You might be initiating World War III, right in your own living room.”

  Grant shook his head. “Your mother and grandmother are class acts. When your dad compares your mom to Ginger, he has to recognize his mistake.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Anxiety upped her voice an octave.

  “Then we tried.”

  Merrilee shivered in spite of her proximity to the blazing fire. “And I can go back to New York.”

  “Don’t.” The plea slipped out before he could stop it.

  Looking more dejected than he’d ever seen her, she refused to meet his eyes. “I’m here only to help my folks. If I can’t do that, I might as well leave.”

  I need you, he wanted to say, but he clamped his jaw against the words. The time wasn’t right. Disheartened, he wondered if the timing would ever be right.

  The telephone rang, shattering the silence.

  “That might be your dad,” Grant said. “He’s probably worried whether you’re out of this weather.”

  He rose and picked up the hand set.

  “Grant,” a familiar male voice said. “I’m glad the phones are working.”

  Merrilee glanced at him and he shook his head to indicate it wasn’t her father.

  “Hey, Jeff. What’s up?” Grant hoped none of Jeff’s animals was sick. He’d have a devil of a time making it up the mountain through the ice and snow.

  “Just wanted you to know I found something of yours,” the ex-Marine said.

  Grant racked his brain. Had he left supplies or equipment at the Davidson place during his visit last week?

  “You should plan to pick her up as soon as the storm clears,” Jeff continued. “She’s eating me out of house and home.”

  Relief shot through Grant like a rocket. “You found Gloria!”

  Merrilee perked up at his words.

  Grant listened to Jeff’s explanation, expressed his thanks and replaced the hand set.

  “Is Gloria okay?” Merrilee asked.

  Grant nodded. “Jeff found her huddled on the leeward side of his barn when he went out to check on his animals during the storm.”

  “She didn’t run away from him?”

  “That’s the amazing part,” Grant said. “Jeff called her and she came right to him. Followed him inside and ate most of the meat loaf he’d made for his supper.”

  Merrilee’s beaming smile was a welcome sight. “Jeff made friends with her when we were there last week. Gloria must have remembered him.”

  “I’ll pick her up tomorrow if the road’s passable.”

  With the gracefulness of a dancer, Merrilee rose from the chair and crossed the room. “Speaking of roads, the dispatcher told Brynn the highway’s clear all the way to town.”

  He’d wanted her to spend the night. If not in his bed, merely having her under the same roof was consolation enough. He repressed a sigh. “I suppose you want to go to your nana’s?”

  Merrilee nodded. “I can fill her in on our plans for next week and ask her to recruit Mom into the scheme.”

  He couldn’t fault her logic, but his heart wasn’t interested in reason. He reached for her and enfolded her in his arms. Her head fit beneath his chin as if they were matching parts of a puzzle. Contentment flooded him when she didn’t pull away but wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.

  “Thank you,” she murmured against the front of his shirt.

  “For dinner? You’re welcome.”

  She shook her head. “For that, but most of all, for being my friend. I need a friend right now more than ever.”

  “I’ll always be your friend, Merrilee.” He tipped her face toward him. “The best you ever had. I’m here whenever you need me.”

  He dipped his head, seeking her lips with his own.

  “Please, don’t kiss me.” Her protest was soft, wavering.

  He drew back. “Not if you don’t want me to.” Torment shone in her eyes. “That’s the problem. I want you to, too much.”

  With his hand in her hair, he clasped her against his chest, embracing her in a hug. “Don’t worry, Merrilee. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  She sighed against his shirt.
“You told me that already.”

  “I did?” He couldn’t remember.

  “In a dream,” she explained.

  He held her for a moment longer and optimism built within him. If she dreamed about him and wanted him to kiss her, maybe his chances of overcoming her fears were better than he’d thought.

  He gave her a final gentle squeeze and released her. “Get your coat. I’ll drive you to Nana’s.”

  He had a spring in his step as they went out the door. He’d found his dog. Now all he had to do was win Merrilee’s trust.

  “I’LL SEE YOU at Grant’s, Daddy.”

  MJ leaned down to kiss her father’s cheek. Reclining in his favorite chair in the family room, he was finishing the newspaper before leaving to pick up Ginger for tonight’s party.

  “A bit early, aren’t you?” her father asked.

  MJ’s heart pounded and sweat slicked her palms. She’d never been much good at deception. Would her father see through her? She struggled for control and spoke in a voice amazingly calm, considering the turmoil inside her. “I promised Grant I’d give him a hand in the kitchen.”

  “Okay, princess. See you soon.”

  She exerted all her efforts to keep from running out the door and down the walk. She slid behind the wheel of Nana’s car, started the engine and drove around the block so her dad wouldn’t notice she’d headed toward Nana’s to pick up her mother and grandmother.

  When tonight is over, no matter what the outcome, I’m having a nervous breakdown, she promised herself, only half kidding.

  The past few days had been the most nerve-racking of her life, despite signing with an agent who was anxious to represent her proposed book. Her constant second-guessing whether the dinner party would turn out to be a good idea or a disaster had left her no time to worry if her project would sell. At least the agony of indecision over the upcoming confrontation between her parents and Ginger had been a welcome relief from the torment of thinking about Grant.

  She couldn’t deny that she loved him. Loved him more than her career. More than life itself. The more time she spent with him, the stronger her love grew. And that was the problem. If she succumbed to that love, gave in to the desire to remain in Pleasant Valley and marry him, how would she survive if their marriage didn’t meet her high expectations? Or fell apart like her parents’?