Trouble Comes Knocking (Entangled Embrace)

by Duncanson, Mary

  My eyebrows shot up, and I opened my mouth to argue when without warning he pressed his lips to mine. Kissing me. Softly at first. Teasingly. Heat flooded my face.

  I tensed, pushing at him, then slowly melted as his lips pressed against mine. My lips parted, and I tasted peppermint.

  He pressed his hand between the pillow and my head, furthering his hold on me. My body reacted to his fingertips massaging the base of my neck. He held me tight while unthinkably we became one.

  Then, as quickly as it started, he pulled away. His dark pupils returned to normal, though my own body begged for more.

  My fingertips shot to my still tingling lips. “You kissed me.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and stood to walk away. Turning back, he said, “I can’t be with you, Lucy. But that doesn’t make me not want you. Or make me not want to protect you.”

  “I’m with John.”

  “I know. And he’s the least of my obstacles. Matheson doesn’t like you, if you haven’t noticed. And he’s my boss. If I even tried to date you, it would ruin my career. I can’t do that. I can’t risk everything I’ve worked for, not even for you.”

  I wanted to be with John, but I could no longer deny my feelings for Eli, either. With me still reeling, he left the room.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I can stay longer,” Ana said, twisting the shirt she was supposed to be folding into a wrinkled mess. “I mean, it isn’t as if I have plans or anything. I don’t have to go visit my parents right now.”

  It was time. “You can stop that. I know the truth. Besides, you haven’t talked to your parents since Christmas last year. You need to see them.”

  Her cheeks turned dark pink. “What do you mean, you know the truth?”

  I folded one of her tops and placed it in the suitcase, then took the shirt from her. “I know you’re going to Milan for a photo shoot next month. I also know Bobby set it up for you.”

  Ana ducked her head. “How did you know?”

  “He told me, at the bar, when I answered your phone. Why didn’t you want me to know, Ana?”

  She tucked away a pair of jeans and sat on the bed. “I’ll be gone for a while. Longer than normal.”

  I sat next to her. “You’ve been gone a long time before. Remember when you went to Chicago for three months?”

  “This is different,” she said, sounding a bit like a little kid going away to summer camp for the first time. Excited but miserable. “I’ll be in a different country. You can’t come see me whenever you want. I won’t be able to fly down if something happens.” She grabbed another shirt and stared at it for a moment. “I’m kinda scared, Lucy.” Looking up, her lashes glistened with tears.

  I grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and pressed it into her hand. “You deserve a life of your own, Ana Angel. This is your chance to have it. And it will be amazing. I’m good here; we’re good. And when you’re done, you’ll bring me back some amazing designer heels or one of those sexy Italian men.”

  “What if it’s somewhere else after this? Then somewhere else again?”

  “Then we’ll have to work harder at seeing each other,” I said, pressing myself into her side. “You are more a sister to me than I’ve ever known. And I apparently had two.”

  She laughed at my black attempt at humor.

  “People who grow apart are the ones who don’t work at staying together. We are not those people.”

  She leaned her head against my shoulder. “We better not be. Who else am I supposed to go on crazy misadventures with if not you?”

  “And who am I supposed to corrupt into doing bad things if not you?”

  A honk sounded outside. I looked out the window. “They’re here.” Bobby sent a town car to pick her up, even though I’d have preferred taking her to the airport myself.

  Pretty much out of time, we smashed the rest of her clothes into the bag and smooshed it shut. “Love love love,” she said to me, squeezing my neck tight.

  I grabbed her suitcase and carried it down the stairs. “Love love love love love,” I answered back, walking her to the car. “Be safe, have fun. Don’t let them try to change you; you’re perfect the way you are.”

  And with that, she left.

  Later that night I spoke to Natalie for the first time since she’d been freed, and it was good to hear her voice. She was back home with her folks. “I don’t want to stay at HGR, but I don’t know where else I’m supposed to go,” she said.

  “Wherever you want,” I told her. “It isn’t as if you have anything holding you back. Clive loves you. I won’t be there, but we can be friends no matter where we go, right?”

  “Maybe I’ll go back to school,” she said, wistfully. “I always thought I was pretty smart. Maybe I’ll get a degree in law or something.”

  “Maybe.”

  I could hear her smiling over the phone. “Thank you for everythin’. Truly. I still can’t believe it was Ben. I knew I didn’t like the guy, but for him to go this far is psychotic.”

  At the mention of his name, a picture of him dead flashed before my eyes. I’d have to talk to someone about that. It kept me up at night. Him, the white room, Diana’s body. It was more than I could deal with on my own.

  John had agreed completely and said as much. “I don’t think I could sleep if I’d been through what you went through.”

  We still hadn’t “done the deed,” so to speak. Turns out watching someone’s life drain from them created a fair-sized crimp in my libido. Probably for the best. But still, John was a good guy and not pressuring me. I asked him about what Ben said, about if he loved me. He didn’t. Not yet, he’d said. But also that I’d be the first to know when he did.

  Eli stayed on my mind constantly, too. Which is probably another reason I hadn’t been able to go all the way with John. That kiss at the hospital lingered in my mind like some sort of last leaf that refused to fall from the tree. And I wasn’t sure I wanted it to. It proved one thing to me: Eli did have the same feelings I had for him.

  Feelings I couldn’t have. Especially now that I was to be a consultant with the Fort Worth Police Department. Captain Matheson didn’t like it, but I hadn’t expected him to. “Don’t think you’re getting away with anything in my department,” he had said as he observed me filling out paperwork. “You are here because the commissioner wants you here for publicity, nothing else. You will work with Detective Reyes and only Detective Reyes, and if you so much as set one eyelash out of line, I’ll have you out of here so fast your head will spin.”

  I nodded, no reason to argue.

  Giddiness bubbled inside. For the first time in my life I had purpose. I would not screw this up.

  “So how then did you get arrested,” Officer Len asked one last time.

  “Not my fault,” I said. “Remember I told you about the guy who stopped me on the street? Roger Ridley? Well, he showed up again.”

  Normally Halloween gave Aunt Dolores excitement hives, but with everything that had happened I don’t think she felt it as much as usual. We sat at the kitchen table eating chili before all the trick-or-treaters arrived when we heard a knock at the door. “Ignore it,” she said, “probably someone sellin’ magazines or cookie dough or somethin’.”

  I broke some crackers into my bowl, but then heard a second knock. “Maybe it’s early trick-or-treaters?” I suggested, pushing away from the table. “Let me go check.” The sun hadn’t gone down, but who knew? Some parents were pretty funny about when their little angels went out.

  I opened the door expecting a pirate and instead found a ghost. “Lucy. I know you don’t know me, but you have to listen.”

  I slammed the door shut as fast as I could, leaning against it and trying to slow my hammering heart.

  He knocked again, then spoke loud enough for me to hear him through the door. “You’re in danger,” he said. “You and your sisters. Look. I’m here because I was a friend of your parents. I knew you when you were little. I helped protect you.”


  “You tried to lock me away,” I said back, eyeballing my phone across the room. I wanted Dee to call the police, but knew if I shouted, he would hear me.

  “I wanted what was best for you and still do. Look, you can’t stay here. There are people searching for you, for all of you. I found you, and I know they will, too.”

  With that, I opened the door. “Let them come,” I said. I looked him up and down. I didn’t see a villain but instead a tired, worn-out man. Like he’d been running for a long time and hadn’t had a chance to stop. “Wait, what do you mean all of us?”

  “You and your sisters.”

  “Julie is dead, and Kat is at Voeller Institute in Elmer.” I paused for a moment. “What is it people want from me, anyway?”

  “You’re special,” he said. “You all are. Let me in, I’ll explain everything.”

  Though a huge part of me wanted to shove him back and tell him to go away forever, a larger part recognized he might be the only link to my parents. I motioned him in.

  Aunt Dolores, seeming to have heard all the commotion, was waiting in the living room when we came in. “Lucy, you need me to call the cops? Get my gun?”

  “Not yet,” I said, not looking away from Roger. “Tell me what you know about my parents.”

  “They’re safe,” he said. “They didn’t kill anyone, but they can’t be with you. You’re in too much danger now.”

  I shook my head. “Why am I in danger? I’ve never done anything.”

  “It’s not what you’ve done; it’s who you are. People are looking for you.”

  “You said that already. I’ve been to Elmer. I know what Julie did and that people think I’m her.”

  Roger, who had been pacing slightly, stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait—you went to Elmer?”

  I took a step away from him. “Yes. I know about the institute. I know about my sisters.”

  He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “No, no, no, this is all wrong,” he said. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a cell phone. Dialing a number, he stepped away from me.

  I faced Dee. “I don’t know what to do,” I said, crossing arms over my chest. “He’s making no sense.”

  “I’m calling the cops.”

  I turned back to Roger. “Look,” I said, “either you stop your cryptic talk, or you can leave.”

  He hung up the phone and turned back to me. “It’s too late,” he said. “I can’t protect you now.”

  My mind flashed: I saw Roger in different scenes throughout my life. Standing across the street from my high school. Walking alone on my college campus. Eating at the mall when I worked at the cologne counter. Standing on the other side of the street while I walked through Sundance Square. In the lobby during my first day at HGR.

  He had been there all along. Protecting me? Watching me?

  I grabbed his shoulders and shook. His hair fell into his face, and he took a step back, eyes wide. “Tell me about my parents,” I demanded.

  “It’s—it’s too late,” he said again, taking a step away. “I can’t be here, I’m in danger now, too.” With that he stumbled out the door and onto the porch.

  Just then, tires skidded around the corner and a car slowed in front of my house. A gun appeared at the window, and when shots rang out I screamed. It sped away but the damage was already done.

  Blood poured down the front of Roger’s shirt from five separate holes. He fell to his knees and then back. I knelt beside him on the porch. “Please, tell me what I need to know,” I begged while pressing my hand over the wound closest to his heart. Blood pooled around my fingers. As if from a distance, I heard Dee’s voice as she talked to 911, though I could feel her standing behind me, then kneeling as she pressed her apron over the remaining holes.

  He took his phone out of his pants pocket and pressed it into my other hand. “Mark Wilco.”

  “Who is Mark Wilco?” I begged, needing more from this dying man. “Please, my parents. Where are they?”

  “Mark Wil—”

  The sound of sirens approaching echoed off nearby houses. “Please, stay with me. I don’t know what to do.”

  He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. I took his hand and squeezed it. “Roger, please. Please.”

  “Shady Grove,” he managed with his final breath. His hand went limp in mine, and his eyes glazed over. Footfalls stormed up the stairs; police pushed me out of the way so the paramedics could take over.

  I scooted back and tucked the phone into my pocket before pulling my knees up to my chest. Dolores placed a hand on my shoulder. She hadn’t spoken. We laced fingers, and she knelt beside me. We didn’t say anything as we watched the men work on the only connection I had to my parents, then watched him vanish into the back of the ambulance.

  A couple of unmarked police cars showed up minutes later. Captain Matheson among them. “So why is it when there is a body to be found in this town, it’s somehow connected to you?” he asked, shaking his head in ill-humored arrogance.

  I looked down at the blood. My insides boiled. A man died. A man with information about my family. My missing pieces. White hotness flashed in front of my eyes as I looked at Matheson.

  “That’s why I punched him,” I told Officer Len. “A gut reaction. Wrong, in every way, but completely unavoidable.”

  Officer Len closed the notebook he’d been writing in and tapped the end of his pen against the table. “Look, Lucy,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot. No question in that. But you can’t go around punching people, either.”

  I peeled a bit of the Styrofoam from my cup. “I’ve never punched anyone before in my life,” I said, not a bit apologetic for the shiner I’d given Matheson. “And I truly am sorry for having done it this time.” I wasn’t.

  Officer Len stood and walked out of the room. I heard him talking to someone else on the other side of the door but couldn’t decipher what they said. A few minutes later he came back in.

  “Commissioner Whittaker likes you,” he said. “And he thinks you deserve a chance to move past this. He’s going to talk Matheson out of pressing charges, but in exchange, you’ll have to go through regular counseling with the department shrink while you’re working here.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “One more thing,” he said, leaning in. “Captain Matheson is hard-nosed but a good cop. Don’t let him get to you. If you can get him on your side, he’ll be a great resource. Do you understand?”

  Again I nodded, but didn’t.

  “Good. You’re free to go.”

  I walked out of the interrogation room and straight toward the elevator. Eli joined me as I waited. “So you’re free, then.”

  “Yeah.”

  He nudged me with his hip, and I looked at him. “Good. We have another case to work on, and I think your skills will come in especially handy.”

  “Can it wait until I’ve slept?” I asked, stifling a yawn.

  He took me by the shoulder and led me from the elevator. “Sleep later; you’re gonna love this.”

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to acknowledge my editor, Karen, and the amazing Nicole, who saw my muddy baby, picked ’er up and made ’er shine. Because I’m certain you don’t hear it enough, thank you both so very much.

  About the Author

  Mary Duncanson, who sometimes writes as Mary Malcolm, lives in North Texas with a menagerie of animals and roommates. She is currently looking to adopt a husband, preferably housebroken, preferably as silly as her.

  When she’s not on Facebook goofing around, she’s talking to the characters in her head and hoping they talk back. When she’s not doing all that, she can be found wandering around Central Market with a happy, drooly foodie look on her face. Do not judge her, it is her Mecca.

  Mary’s been writing since she was a teenager, though she spent quite a few years studying toward becoming a doctor before she realized she wanted to be a full-time author. Unfortunately, the people who own
her student loans still want to be paid for the years they supported her medical dreams.

  She lives on a steady diet of coffee and chocolate and feels, like Eleanor Roosevelt, that people should believe in the beauty of their dreams. Also, that people should ignore the word “should” because really, it’s kind of a judgmental word. Mary dreams of one day living as a full-time, well-paid novelist (hint, hint) and also of traveling to Chile to pay homage to her soul mate, Pablo Neruda.

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