Discarded Promises

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Discarded Promises Page 13

by Candice Poarch


  “Yeah. Food.” All this drama was bringing on a snack attack.

  “It’s a living nightmare,” Owen continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Even today I get the urge, but I can’t. Thank God for my AA sponsor. I couldn’t have made it this far without him.”

  “Bill’s a good man,” Joyce said, “even if he is my brother. He understands because he’s been there.” Bill had introduced her to Owen a year after he’d cleaned up. They all went out to dinner together at least once a month.

  “He’s more than that. He saved my life. I was wasting away when he talked me into joining AA.”

  “How long did it take him to convince you?”

  “Months. I started out as one of those weekend alcoholics. I’d start Friday night and I drank straight through Sunday until I fell asleep. The smell of alcohol was in my skin. I could scrub myself raw and the scent was still there. I guess by now my insides are pretty pickled.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s the truth. That’s one of the things I have to do, is admit the truth. Billy has been trying to get me to call my daughter for a couple of years now, but I didn’t have the nerve.”

  “She’ll forgive you eventually.”

  “I don’t know, Joyce. Her growing-up years must have been a living nightmare. You don’t know what it’s like for a child to wake up to a mother’s screams. To her running out the house in the—”

  “Don’t torture yourself.” It hurt Joyce to hear it. “It’s all in the past. You’ve changed.”

  “But she doesn’t know that. She only knows the man she left behind when she was eighteen. You don’t know the number of times I walked past her shop or looked up into her window in the dead of night hoping to get a glimpse of her. I get so angry at myself for putting them through that.”

  Joyce sat down beside him and held his hand.

  “Took a long time for my sister to even send me a photo of her. She was angry at the way I treated her friend and for the fact that my daughter had to leave her own home for some peace. I’m ashamed of myself. That’s why I couldn’t face her all this time.”

  “You’ve got to forgive yourself and move on.”

  “How can I forgive myself when I’ve done those evil things to her? The kind of damage I’ve done to her will stay with her a lifetime. Those are the things I live with every night of my life. Before I go to sleep I almost grab the bottle to run away from the thought.”

  Joyce rubbed his hand again, at a loss for how to console him. She knew only that she was there for him.

  “You aren’t alone. I’m with you every step of the way.”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. “I don’t deserve you. You know that?”

  “You deserve some goodness. I don’t think anyone punishes you as much as you punish yourself. Try to remember what they taught you in AA. To apologize and move on. You can’t control other people.”

  “That works up to a point.”

  “God forgives everything, Owen,” she said quietly, “when we ask Him.”

  “I can’t move on with my daughter in danger. Somebody’s going to pay for what they did to her.”

  Joyce understood his need to protect his daughter and respected him for it. But mentally, he’d been at the same point for months. What if Quilla didn’t allow him back into her life? Would he ever be able to move on? Would he revert to drinking because he missed his daughter and couldn’t get her to change her mind?

  “Focus on the present, Owen. Not on the past,” she finally said and hoped there was a future for them.

  Tom was feeling pretty satisfied now that the apartment thing was taken care of. He’d had quite a scare when his wife, Wendy, had threatened to take over management. One of the old geezers had called complaining like a two-year-old that the apartment didn’t have a manager and they didn’t know whom to call with their problems. That was the problem with renting to Alexandria society. They knew the family on a first-name basis.

  The last thing Tom needed was Wendy getting wind of his affair with Sadie. Now that their son, Randall, was a senior and would be moving out next year, she needed something to take up her excess time.

  For now, Randall’s senior year was enough to keep her busy, but the boy would graduate in June and then Wendy would have plenty of time on her hands. She either headed or was part of just about every senior program at Randall’s school. But when she discovered the apartment management vacancy, Super Mom jumped at the chance to run it. Tom couldn’t allow that. His time was limited.

  He got out of his car in the garage under the apartment complex. Melissa had a problem that needed solving. One thing he missed about Sadie was she never needed him. As ditzy as she pretended to be, she knew how to self-manage. He missed her already and she’d been gone less than two weeks.

  Suddenly he found himself hauled up by his necktie and dragged over to a dark corner.

  “You think you can play games with us?” The English was so thickly accented, it took a moment for Tom to decipher.

  “Who are you? What are you talking about?”

  “The shipment did not have the correct semiconductor. We didn’t pay you a fortune for a semiconductor we could buy on the market anywhere.”

  “I sent the correct equipment. Checked it myself. Are you sure they weren’t switched on the other end?” Tom could barely squeeze out the words. He was going to have red marks around his throat if the man didn’t loosen up.

  “I received them. I didn’t switch.”

  “This can’t be right. I know I sent the correct equipment. The problem is on your end, not mine.”

  “You’ve got one week to get us the right equipment. One week. Or you’re a dead man.”

  “There’s no way I can ship in one week. It was tough getting it out as it is. It’s going to take at least a month to replace it without getting caught.”

  “You don’t have a month.”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who screwed up. I sent the right one. I can’t replace it in a week. They aren’t made here. The license hasn’t been approved and the government’s watching us like a hawk. It took forever to hide that last shipment. I have to have at least a month.”

  The man growled and shoved him against the wall so hard his head bounced on the cement. Tom saw his life flash before his eyes. He was a dead man.

  “One month. No later. My people are very displeased. You know how easy it is to disappear, even here?”

  With one last shove, the man strolled away.

  Tom leaned against the wall rubbing his neck. How the hell did those semiconductors get switched? Dealing with these people, he didn’t know if they had the thing and wanted more for free or if they really never arrived.

  He thought of Sadie. Had they killed her? Sadie had meant a lot to him. He had been crazy enough to halfway fall in love with her. Was it meant to scare him into thinking they could kill whoever was close to him, or even him?

  Just before closing, Quilla received a call from Hattie.

  “They’re having a party at George’s place Wednesday night,” she said, bubbling over with excitement. “They go all out for their Christmas parties and I’m always invited. Would you like to go with me?”

  “Who is George?” Quilla asked.

  “Tom’s father-in-law. Wendy will be there, as well as the rest of the family. You’ll get to meet Tom as well.”

  “I’d love to go.” Quilla said.

  “Great. I can give you the—as my granddaughter says—the 4-1-1 on everyone.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Quilla said. “What time should I pick you up and how shall I dress?”

  “Kind of dressy. I love this time of year. I get to wear the jewels my husband bought me without seeming garish. Not that I really care. At my age you do what you want to. I set my own style.”

  Quilla heard that long whistle in the background. “What nice hips you have.”

  “You have a date in there, Hattie?”

  “
There Herbert goes again.” Quilla heard her talking as if she had lifted the phone from her mouth. “Be a good boy, Herbert, or beddy-bye for you.” Then her voice came closer. “My grandson’s been at it again.”

  Quilla didn’t have jewels to speak of. Only a pearl necklace.

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “I love a good mystery. I watch Agatha Christie and Murder, She Wrote.”

  Quilla chuckled. “You’re quite the sleuth, aren’t you? See you Saturday.”

  “And you can bring that handsome man who stays down the hall.”

  Maybe not, Quilla thought. He definitely wouldn’t approve. And he’d try to talk her out of it.

  “You aren’t playing matchmaker, are you, Hattie?”

  “Always like a good romance.”

  “Sometimes men only complicate matters.”

  “Complications can be good. By the way, Tom hired a new temp to take over for Sadie. Until she returns, he says. As if she’s coming back.” Her voice lowered as if she were sharing secrets. “She’s Edward’s girlfriend. He’ll be there, by the way, with his wife.”

  Edward was the jewelry store manager.

  “Do you think she knew Sadie?”

  “Of course. Got to go.”

  Even with the news report, Quilla hadn’t gotten any leads. Trait had come by, angry that she’d gone to the media. If she’d hoped that would get him moving, she was seriously mistaken. To date, there still wasn’t any progress on Sadie’s case. And according to Trait, there wasn’t a case.

  It was bad enough they hadn’t been able to track down how the semiconductors were getting out of town. Denton couldn’t afford to take chances at this point.

  Watching the traffic behind him to make sure he wasn’t being followed, he drove with Lucky to the outskirts of town to meet another agent.

  Lucky was on a long leash this time. Denton sat on a park bench and let Lucky explore while another man sat beside him with his newspaper.

  “We got word another shipment of semiconductor-manufacturing equipment has been commissioned for export,” the man said.

  “By whom?”

  “Don’t know, but the order is enough to build weaponry for enemy troops with enough power to cause a lot of trouble for our men. Enough to make a Third World country a force to be reckoned with. We haven’t incorporated that technology into our own weapons yet. But the tests are enough to scare you if it was in the wrong hands.”

  “What about him? Have you found his contact yet?” Denton was talking about Tom.

  “We’ve been following, but he hasn’t met with anyone yet.”

  Lucky was sniffing around some low bushes.

  “Someone should contact him soon about the old shipment. We exchanged his equipment with less powerful replacements.”

  “It’s a wonder they don’t kill him.”

  “He’s their only supplier. They aren’t stupid. He’s got a new woman managing the apartments. He could be using her to gather information from the buyer. Ostensibly, someone coming in looking for a new apartment. We’ll never know.”

  “The office is bugged. And there’s a bug in Sadie’s apartment. All the other apartments are full. So if they talk in any of those two locations we’ll hear them.”

  Melissa didn’t look bright enough to be a go-between. They couldn’t be assured of her silence.

  “How long ago was the shipment intercepted?”

  “A little over a week ago.”

  “It’s possible Sadie’s murder was a warning for Tom.”

  “Who knows?”

  The agent folded his newspaper and left, leaving it behind on the seat.

  Denton stayed where he was for five minutes while Lucky romped around in the grass. Then he picked up the paper and left.

  He drove back to the apartment, parking his car in the garage. He saw Tom going into the building from the garage entrance.

  Now he had to babysit Quilla. The bosses were displeased that she’d called attention to Tom’s girlfriend, maybe even causing Tom to lay low until the uproar over Sadie’s death died down.

  He went home and showered just to calm himself before he went to her shop. It was near closing time and Christmas shoppers were scurrying about in a frenzy from store to store in that mad-dash last effort to get the rest of the gifts on their shopping lists.

  As he walked to her place, he couldn’t deny that he loved the festive atmosphere of Old Town.

  In the corner of Quilla’s shop, a tall, stocky man seemed to be checking out the merchandise. He must be the bodyguard.

  “Evening,” Denton said.

  The man nodded but immediately turned back to his supposed shopping.

  “You must be the bodyguard.”

  “And who are you?” the man asked in a no-nonsense tone.

  “A friend of Quilla’s. Denton Manning.”

  “Irving Jackson.”

  A customer entered in a rush and asked for some treats, banana and peanut butter flavored.

  Lucky started sniffing the floor for treats, and Denton got some from the bowl and fed her. He was beginning to like the creature. He even missed her the night she stayed with Quilla.

  The last guest left and Quilla locked the door. She looked drained, and still she looked like a dream. Even that didn’t stop the desire that hit him like a sledgehammer.

  She drove him crazy.

  Denton had picked up dinner on his way to Quilla’s place.

  After Irving left, Denton followed Quilla upstairs to her apartment.

  “I’m going to shower. Maybe it will rejuvenate me,” she said.

  “I’ll have dinner ready by the time you finish.”

  Quilla was too tired to argue. She didn’t sleep well last night after the close call. She had to eat and wasn’t in the mood for a sandwich, although that’s exactly what she would have eaten if he hadn’t come along. Why was he there, anyway?

  Quilla left him in the living room while she disappeared into the bedroom.

  Denton glanced around the cozy room. A blanket was thrown across the chair. Books were piled neatly on one table. She was reading a mystery. An overstuffed couch beneath the window held a variety of pillows and a throw.

  It looked as if she had recently lit a fire in the fireplace. It was a gas one, and he started it. The flames came to life and he went about preparing dinner in the small kitchen.

  By the time Quilla appeared, he had the food on the table.

  “You’re a fabulous cook,” Quilla said at the end of the meal.

  “Thought I couldn’t cook?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know you.”

  “You know more than you realize.”

  “Like what?”

  The thought that Sadie could have been a hit made him worry about Quilla even more. “Do you have any relatives who live out of town? Maybe even the state?”

  Frowning, Quilla said, “My aunt and cousins live in North Carolina. Why?”

  “I’d like you to stay with them a week or so. Regina can take over for a little while.”

  “Are you out of your mind? This is the busiest season of the year. I make forty percent of my annual sales during Christmas. I can’t leave.”

  “I’ll feel better.”

  “Look, I have a business to run. I can’t slink out of town just because you’re worried.”

  “Your attack the other night—”

  “People get robbed this time of year more than any other time. Robbers want that extra money for Christmas shopping. It was just a robbery. Don’t try to make it into more than that.”

  “Listen, you’re stirring people up.”

  “You don’t have one shred of evidence.” She picked up her soda.

  Denton brushed his hand across his head. “You’re the most stubborn woman—”

  “Just because you can’t get your way after you make unreasonable requests, I’m stubborn?”

  “You have to take precautions.”

  “What do you care? I’m not
hing to you.”

  Suddenly he was out of the chair and she was in his arms, with his hands splaying on her back, and his lips pressed to hers.

  Before Quilla knew it they were across the room on the couch. His hard body was pressed against her softness. His muscled arms were like steel bands around her. Every nerve in her body tingled, as if electrical charges were zinging through her.

  She should stop right then, could even think of a couple million reasons why, but she wrapped her arms around him, reached under his sweater to feel the skin beneath. This time would be different.

  “You’ve bewitched me,” he all but groaned.

  “I’m a real flesh-and-blood woman.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Hastily, he tore at the buttons on her blouse. A couple of them popped off before he got the blouse undone and slid it off her shoulders. His hands shook.

  “I owe you a new blouse.”

  “Who cares?”

  She yanked his sweater over his head. Felt the hard, hairy, and hot chest beneath her hands along with the staccato beating of his heart.

  He unhooked her bra and bared her breasts. When his eyes traveled over her she felt as if a laser beam was heating her up. He slid the jeans down her hips, carrying her dainty panties with them. Then he gazed at her.

  Her nipples peaked to tight buds as his eyes traveled over her naked body, taking his time, making her want him. It sent a tremor through her.

  When he stood, she slid his jeans down his long, hard thighs and calves. He shucked his shoes and kicked them off the rest of the way.

  Quilla’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes took in every magnificent inch of his body. Her finger trailed the small scar on his chest. Then she leaned up and kissed it. His groan was deep and primal.

  She was absolutely crazy, she thought for a second before her own breath quickened as he bent and kissed her stomach. Devoid of oxygen, she sucked a deep lungful of air and stroked his strong thighs. She remembered every delightful second of being in his arms. He must have remembered, too, because, with a moan, he lifted her and headed down the hallway to the bedroom.

  Placing her on the bed, he explored every inch of her body until her skin glistened with pleasure and desire. And this time she learned the contours of his body. Learned what pleased him most.

 

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