book.pdf

by Fha User

  be honored.”

  She smiled and grasped his hand across the table. Clarence smiled his

  gratitude also. After they finished eating, Vi cleared the table. Looking

  around the kitchen, she discovered odd plates and cups from her house that

  Craig had brought to his apartment. They formed a mismatched table

  assortment of cups, plates, forks and knives in this kitchen. She did notice

  that all the dishes, however, were sparkling clean and neatly put away in the

  cabinet. Circling the cooking area, she ran her hand over the countertop. It

  was also clean.

  She entered the living room where Clayton and Clarence were working

  together, filling up small boxes and taping them closed. Straightening her

  shoulders, she announced, “I guess I might as well tackle his room next.”

  Rising, Clayton moved ahead of her down the hall. He opened the door to

  Craig’s room, then stepped aside to allow her to enter. Vi looked around.

  “It’s so neat and clean,” she said in surprise.

  “Yeah, Craig knew I was a bit of a clean freak when he moved in here

  because of my past. He told me that was not a problem because while he

  lived at home you ran a tight ship.” Clayton smiled faintly before he

  confided. “He said something about your Saturday morning cleaning

  requirements before anyone was allowed out with their friends.”

  She moved over to the dresser where some of her son’s personal

  belongings were laid out. His holster and gun lay in a chair next to the bed.

  A brush and more bottles of cologne sat on top of the dresser. Moving into

  the room behind her, Clayton handed her several white envelopes.

  “I’ve paid all the apartment-related bills, but these are personal ones that I

  thought you should have,” he said, handing her the envelopes.

  She took the envelopes from him and began looking through them. “This

  is his credit card account. I guess I’ll have to call and cancel these.” Sighing

  heavily, she continued studying the envelopes in her hands until her vision

  blurred, making the address information waver before her eyes. “Oh,

  God….oh, God, I’m so tired of crying,” she whispered desperately.

  Without hesitation Clay moved over to where she stood and took her in his

  arms. She went willingly, his strong arms lending her a measure of comfort.

  56

  Although his eyes were dry now, his heart beat along with hers, chest to

  chest in their shared misery. Holding her in the security of his arms, it

  occurred to him how often he’d held this woman in the past 24 hours. Past

  relationships aside, he’d held her closer and longer than any woman in a very

  long time. While it made him feel good that she seemed to rely on him, it

  also felt very foreign to him. Besides the fact that he let very few people get

  close to him, Clayton didn’t quite know how to deal with this type of loss.

  No one close to him had ever died before.

  The closest relationship he’d ever had was with his baby sister, Sabrina.

  When Sabrina ran away at fifteen, he had no one. He knew from the

  postcards he received every few years that she had five kids now and the man

  she’d run away with was incarcerated. Clayton left home soon after Sabrina

  did, and hadn’t had any contact with his parents since. He knew in his heart

  that if his parents died tomorrow, he would not shed one tear.

  Clayton released Vi when Clarence walked into the bedroom, holding

  Craig’s Mets shirt. The gift from his grandfather had Craig’s name stitched

  on the back. Vi shared with Clay their plans to lay Craig to rest in the shirt.

  He listened intently to her and Clarence explain the funeral arrangement

  changes they’d made and he seemed to be pleased, much to Vi’s surprise.

  As the day wore on, the boxes they packed began to pile up in Clayton’s

  living room. Most were marked for Goodwill, but a few had Janae’s and

  Tony’s name on them. Vi brushed her hands on the worn jeans she had on

  and looked over at Clayton as a thought occurred to her.

  “Clayton, before you say ‘No,’ you should know I will not take ‘No’ for an

  answer this time.” Taping up the last box, he paused and gave her a

  questioning look. Vi waited until she had his full attention, then she politely

  informed him. “You’re coming back with us tonight. I can make up the

  spare room or the sofa for you, so go grab a few things.”

  He was slightly amused by the ring of authority in her voice and deeply

  touched by her generosity, but he couldn’t. When he started to decline, she

  quickly cut him off. Smiling at him to take some of the bite out of her next

  words, Vi calmly told him. “Didn’t I just say I wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an

  answer? Besides, what else do you have to do tonight except wander around

  in this empty apartment?”

  “I couldn’t.” Stalling for time, Clay pounced on the first thing that came to

  mind. “I have to pick up my new truck before the dealership closes tonight.”

  There, that was at least partially true. The dealership had called all day

  yesterday when he didn’t show up to finalize the paperwork.

  Apparently that was only a minor concern to Vivian Simpson. He watched

  her pick up her handbag and stride over to the front door, calling out

  instructions to him as she left through the front door. “Then come over as

  57

  soon as you pick it up. Pack a bag and Clarence and I will see you later,

  alright?” She turned around right before the closing the door. Her eyes bore

  into him, willing him to concede.

  “Okay,” he agreed, out of excuses.

  She gave him a satisfied smile, right before the door closed.

  58

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  A short while after Clarence and Vi left his apartment, Clayton drove to the

  car dealership. Finalizing the paperwork didn’t take long and, within the

  hour, Clayton was leaving the apartment, carrying a small overnight bag in

  one hand and the keys to his new truck in the other.

  It was a quiet evening, normal in everyway, signifying that the world had

  moved on. The occupants in cars next to him on the freeway were not aware

  he’d just lost a best friend or knew the degree of turmoil coursing through

  him. Besides the questions he had surrounding Craig’s death, Clay’s mind

  was suddenly preoccupied with thoughts of Vivian Simpson. Trying to

  block this train of thought, he focused on the details of the shooting,

  rehashing what they knew, searching for clues. After a time, he gave up

  trying to concentrate as she crept into his thoughts again and again. Giving

  his mind free reign to focus on just her, the visions that ran through his mind

  were troubling, to say the least. They crowded in on him—disturbing

  thoughts of Vi Simpson in his arms, Vi Simpson standing behind him,

  holding him close and absently running her hands over his chest. The time

  they’d spent together over the past few days had been different than any

  other time they’d spent before.

  Without a doubt, Vi was one of the strongest, most admirable women he

  knew. In this most difficult of times, she still had the strength and stamina to

  console others. For some
unknown reason, he was experiencing something

  on a much deeper level that made him acknowledge that she also was a very

  beautiful woman. Soft and shapely, café mocha brown and petite, she was

  definitely not lacking in the areas that separated the girls from the women.

  He shook himself slightly in an attempt to shut down the niggling, improper

  thoughts running through his mind about Mrs. Simpson. But, they lingered.

  Innocent as it was, her touch had elicited unwanted things from his body.

  Her cool, slender hands had branded his chest with their gentleness. This

  morning, something undeniable had shifted between them, at least for him.

  The memory of her nearness earlier today in that bathroom had made him hot

  and cold all at once. What passed between them today was something he’d

  never felt before. What was it? Had she felt it too? Of course not!

  Shaking himself harder this time, Clayton finally put a mental choke hold

  on this useless line of thinking. Unsure of himself and where these feelings

  had come from, he made a decision; whatever was happening, he damn sure

  wasn’t going to act on it. It wasn’t right. Was it?

  59

  While Clayton drove the rest of the way to Vi’s house, deep in thought,

  Casey was across town feeling too nauseous to get out of bed. After a light

  dinner, she lay down for a little while, hoping to ease her suffering. Coupled

  with the fact she hadn’t heard from or seen Craig in three days, the constant

  queasiness persisted. She’d left over half a dozen messages for him. If he

  was still mad at her, she reasoned, he could have at least called back!

  Fine, she thought, let him be mad. Casey closed her eyes and turned over

  in a huff, trying to recall the last time she’d seen him. She remembered he’d

  left that morning without saying goodbye. Although she knew about the

  busy day he had planned she didn’t question why he had left so abruptly,

  because of their argument that morning. Opening her eyes, she threw back

  the covers and swore inwardly. When they argued in the past, it had never

  lasted this long. Not calling for three days or picking up his cell phone was

  juvenile. It was inexcusable, childish and thoughtless. Sitting on the edge

  of her bed pouting, it suddenly occurred to her that acting childish and

  thoughtless was so unlike Craig.

  Walking barefoot across the room, Casey got out of bed and went into the

  bathroom to take a shower. As she stepped under the warm spray of water,

  she felt the slight swell of her belly as she thoroughly soaped her body. A

  heated sensation assailed her and nestled very low in her abdomen. In her

  mind, Casey recalled the last time she and Craig were together, right here in

  this very shower. She closed her eyes as an answering throb developed

  between her thighs standing still under the showerhead. Enjoying the

  pulsing stream of water cascading over her skin, she smiled as the

  recollection of their coming together danced behind her eyelids...

  Craig had been upset when she slipped out of bed that morning to take a

  quick shower. To her surprise, as soon as she turned the water on, he slipped

  inside the stall behind her and joined her under the warm spray. When she

  turned around, his lips covered hers in a sweet, tender kiss that quickly

  turned probing and insistent. In her mind’s eye, Casey pictured how his

  arms had slipped around her waist. How big his hands were, as they slid

  slowly down her soapy body to cup her firmly from behind. Caught up in

  the feel of his arousal, pressed so intimately against her abdomen, Casey’s

  own hips swayed toward him in liquid invitation. She felt Craig’s entire

  body tense in need, as her seductive movements went straight to his head,

  causing the muscular arms beneath her fingertips to harden and bunch.

  In a flash, his grasp on her backside tightened as he lifted her with ease and

  pinned her back firmly against the shower wall. She remembered wrapping

  her arms around his neck, holding on tight while he positioned himself

  between her thighs. Then he was there, entering her in one powerful, fluid

  60

  movement. Her breathing became labored as he took possession of her

  flesh, driving into her again and again, completely taking her breath away.

  Then, the doorbell rang. The doorbell rang?

  The ringing bell invaded her delicious thoughts and it took Casey a

  moment before she realized someone was at the door. When she did her,

  eyes popped open and the hot memory instantly slipped away, like so much

  water down the drain.

  Thinking it might be Craig, she reached for a towel. She dried off quickly

  and threw on a terry cloth robe. Rushing to see who it was, she felt that

  hopeful feeling slip away as she opened the door to find J.R. standing there,

  wearing a huge grin.

  Reading her obvious disappointment, the boy couldn’t help teasing Casey as

  he walked inside. “What? Were you expecting Brad Pitt?”

  She smiled slightly as he came in, and gave him a brief hug before closing

  the door. Feeling the need to explain she told him, “Very funny. I thought

  you might be Craig,” then a sudden thought struck. “Is everything alright at

  home,” she asked. “Are you okay?”

  “When has anything ever been alright at home?” His neutral tone gave

  nothing away.

  Casey walked over to her small sofa and sat down. Looking at him, she

  tapped the seat next to her, motioning him to join her. “So, what’s up?”

  “We got kicked out of the Center.” His off-base answer and hesitant tone

  threw her for a moment. She sat waiting for him to explain and he didn’t

  disappoint her. “Me and the guys can’t play basketball there anymore until

  my coach gets back to supervise us.”

  Thinking there had to be more, she prompted him, “So, what else?”

  As if on cue, he opened up completely, sharing what was really on his

  mind. “She’s got another new boyfriend. This one’s into crack.”

  Casey knew J.R. was speaking about his mother. Since J.R.’s dad left, it

  seemed his mom had the misfortune of meeting more than her share of

  losers. Casey studied him in silence, her own worries fading as she focused

  on the boy. Although they were distant cousins on his mother’s side, their

  families had never been close. So she was surprised when he started coming

  around when she moved back in town several months ago. They started

  spending a lot of time together and Casey quickly became genuinely fond of

  J.R. That’s how Casey found out about his situation at home. Whenever

  things got out of hand at home, J.R. would normally crash at his coach’s

  apartment. Her moving back in town, however, meant he had one other

  place to go when there was trouble at home.

  61

  J.R. slumped lower on the sofa, getting comfortable. Without another word,

  he picked up the remote control, aimed it at the TV and turned to Cartoon

  Network. “Anyway, I couldn’t stand hanging around there anymore, so…”

  he shrugged his bony shoulders nonchalantly and looked over at her. “Since

  I couldn’t go to the Center, and coach wasn’t home, I came here.”

  “You know you can always cr
ash here, kid. The sofa’s a little lumpy but

  it’s all yours.”

  The assuring tone in her voice made the boy smile, but when she looked

  away, J.R. noticed the drawn look on her face and dark circles under her

  eyes. Much wiser than most fourteen-year-old boys his age, J.R. sensed

  something was bothering Casey and asked her about it.

  After a moment’s hesitation, she sighed heavily and looked at the boy.

  “Craig and I had a fight three days ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  J.R. knew that his coach’s friend and Casey talked sometimes at the few

  practices she went to. He was not, however, aware that the two of them had

  hooked up. “So, why don’t you call him?”

  “I have but his voicemail keeps picking up.”

  J.R. was certain whatever she was worrying over couldn’t be good for the

  baby she carried. Unsure how to help her, J.R. suggested she call Craig’s

  job.

  His job! Casey thought. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She quickly got

  up to make the call.

  “Amityville Police, Sgt. Piterrelli speaking.”

  “Hello…I...I’m looking for Craig Simpson.”

  The bombing voice belonging to officer Piterrelli was silent for so long that

  Casey thought he hadn’t heard what she said. “Hello, are you there?” she

  asked.

  “Yes, ma’am I’m still here. Uh, may I ask who is calling?”

  “I…,” Casey caught herself, before blurting out her name. Recovering

  quickly, she continued, “I’m a personal friend of his.”

  “Hold on a minute please.”

  Before she could say anything else, classical music came on. Casey held

  the receiver to her ear so long, she felt sure the man forgot he put her on

  hold. Then, a new voice came through the receiver.

  “Hello, ma’am, this is Captain Jackson. May I ask whom I’m speaking

  with?

  62

  The agitation that crept into Casey’s voice turned slightly desperate as she

  addressed this new person. “I told the other guy I’m a friend and I’ve been

  trying for days to get in touch with Craig Simpson.” An uneasy feeling

  washed over her as she tried to explain to this Captain Jackson. “Listen…if