The Crush

by Sandra Brown

  Taking the hint that he wanted privacy, she went inside and finished cleaning the kitchen. She wondered what unpleasant developments Detective Wesley would tell them of this time.

  Through the window above the kitchen sink, she could see Wick pacing along the fence line. She shared his restlessness. She felt she should be taking action, doing something, but she just didn’t know what to do.

  In the living room, she switched on an end-table lamp and took up her favorite spot in the corner of the sofa. She flipped through a magazine, but neither the pictures nor the text registered. She was preoccupied with thoughts of Wick.

  He was in perpetual motion, just as Grace Wesley had said. Yet he had a habit of making his point by holding a stare for an interminable length of time. Once his blue eyes locked with yours, it was difficult to escape their intensity.

  He was clever and glib and funny and had self-confidence to spare. But he wasn’t superficial. He felt things deeply. He had loved his brother, and the loss was still a raw, open wound. Every hour Lozada went unpunished was like salt to that wound. He seemed to hate Lozada as much as he had loved Joe, and that was a perilous level of emotion to keep contained. Lozada should be very afraid of Wick Threadgill.

  She identified with the rage that drove him to get even. Her vengeance had taken an altogether different form, but she understood Wick’s compulsion to seek it. She also pitied him for it, because finding retribution is a lonely, all-consuming business.

  She hadn’t wanted to like Wick Threadgill, but she did. She hadn’t wanted to forgive him for tricking her, but she had. She hadn’t wanted to be attracted to him, but she was. She had known that if she ever kissed him once, she would want to again. She had, and she did. And if that kiss was any indication of how fervently he made love, she wanted to experience it.

  “Rennie?”

  She sat up straight and cleared her throat. “In here.”

  His boot heels made clomping sounds against the hardwood floor. He took the opposite end of the couch but perched on the very edge, as though he might spring off it at any moment. “What are you doing?”

  She indicated the open magazine in her lap.

  “Horse magazine?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Anything new and interesting in the world of horses?”

  “What did he say, Wick?”

  He expelled a breath and ran his hand around the back of his neck. “I need a massage.”

  “It wouldn’t be good for your wound.”

  “Just my shoulders. I’ve got a crick in my neck from sleeping under that tree last night. How ’bout some massage therapy for your favorite patient?”

  “More bad news?”

  “Not really. Where’d you get the saddle?”

  “It was a prize.”

  “For barrel racing?”

  “You know about my barrel racing?” Reading his guilty expression, she said, “Of course you know. Yes, I won the saddle for barrel racing.”

  “Good-looking saddle. But don’t those silver studs make for an uncomfortable ride?”

  “Wick, if Oren’s news wasn’t that bad, why are you stalling?”

  “Okay,” he said curtly. “I’ll tell you what we talked about. But I want you to know up front that it wasn’t my idea.”

  “I’m not going to like it, am I?”

  “I seriously doubt that you are.”

  She looked at him expectantly, but still he hesitated. “For heaven’s sake, how bad can it be?”

  “Oren thinks we should pretend to be lovers.” He bobbed his head for additional punctuation.

  She stared at him for several moments, then began to laugh. “That’s it? That’s the brilliant plan to snare Lozada?”

  He took offense at her laughter. “What’s the matter with it?”

  “Nothing. As every dime novelist and C-movie producer will attest.” She laughed harder, but he didn’t join in. “Come on, Wick. Don’t you think that idea is a trifle clichéd? We try and make Lozada jealous. He devises some horrible punishment, and when he attempts it, we nab him. Is that the gist of this grand scheme?”

  “Basically,” he said stiffly.

  She shook her head in disbelief. “Lord help us.”

  “I’m glad you can laugh, Rennie, because I can’t. Lozada’s disappeared. His Mercedes is in the parking garage, so he’s using an unknown means of transportation. He hasn’t been spotted in his favorite restaurants, hasn’t been seen at his place in Trinity Tower since last night. The concierge told Oren that the homeowners’ association has asked him to vacate.”

  “Then maybe he just moved out.”

  “And maybe that bobcat you dropped this morning will resurrect tonight.” He got up and began to roam the living room aimlessly. “Lozada wouldn’t have complied with an eviction request from his neighbors. That place is one of his status symbols, like his hand-tailored suits and that hundred-thousand-dollar set of wheels.

  “Being asked to leave would be the worst kind of affront and would make him mad as hell. And who’s he going to blame for being undesirable to Fort Worth’s elite? You guessed it. Me. Us. He’s pissed at us for vanishing, especially if he knows we’re together. He’s pissed at us for making news and getting him kicked out of his building. Now nobody knows where he is. And all of that makes me real nervous.”

  When she was certain his outburst was over, she apologized. “I didn’t mean to make light of the situation, Wick. I know how serious it is. I only have to think about Grace to be reminded. But let’s be reasonable. Lozada wouldn’t fall for a corny charade like that.”

  He came to stand directly in front of her, forcing her to tilt her head back to look at him. “Okay then, let’s hear your idea. I assume you have a workable alternate plan. You said you came here to think of a way to get him out of your life. Has the fresh country air stimulated the gray matter?”

  She lowered her head. “You don’t need to be insulting.”

  “Considering your recent laughter, I can’t believe you have the gall to look me in the eye—in the fly, rather—and say that.”

  He headed for the kitchen. Rennie went after him. By the time she got there he was downing a bottle of water.

  “You’re limping. Does your back hurt?”

  “And then some.”

  “You said it didn’t.”

  “I lied.”

  “Not for the first time.”

  They stared at each other in hostile silence. She was the first to break it. “All right, what are we supposed to do? Hold hands on the corner of Fourth and Main? Gaze at each other over candlelight dinners? Slow-dance till dawn? What?”

  “Don’t forget mauling,” he said. “I could maul you some more.”

  Heat rushed to her face, but she remained where she was. To stalk away angrily would only give the incident the importance she had told him it didn’t have.

  Swearing softly, he set the bottle of water on the counter and rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re always making me say things that make me feel like shit after I say them.”

  “It’s all right. I should never have used that term for what…”

  He lowered his hand from his eyes and looked at her. “For what… What?”

  “You weren’t mauling me.”

  He fixed her with one of those immobilizing gazes until she willed herself to look away. “You’d better tell me more about Oren’s plan.”

  “Uh, yeah.” He shook his head as though to remind himself what they’d been talking about. “He said we might get Lozada on a stalking charge. If we can put him away for that, even for a while, we’d have more time to build a case against him for the murder of Sally Horton and the attack on me. But—”

  “I was afraid there would be one.”

  “No one else has heard these calls you claim he made.” She was about to object when he held up his hands, palms out. “Bear with me. I’m thinking like our DA’s office. I can hear some fresh-out-of-law-school ADA asking for the evidence of these
calls, and we have none. True?”

  “True. But I have that note that came with the roses.”

  “It didn’t contain a threat.”

  “He broke into my house.”

  “Oren and two other cops saw you and Lozada in a clinch.”

  “I was afraid if I resisted I’d wind up like Sally Horton.”

  “There was no sign of forced entry at your house, Rennie.”

  “There was no sign of forced entry when you broke in either.”

  He was taken aback. “You know about that?”

  “I guessed, and Wesley confirmed it with a stony silence.”

  “Oren didn’t tell me you knew.” He hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck again. “It’s a wonder you didn’t let me bleed out.”

  “I didn’t know about the illegal search until after I’d saved your life.”

  His head came up quickly. She smiled wryly to let him know she was kidding. He returned the smile. “Lucky for me.”

  “Getting back to the stalking angle,” she said, “how effectual is it if I can’t prove Lozada’s been harassing me?”

  “We’d have a better chance of getting a charge to stick if something happened in another locale. The allegation would have stronger legs if he followed you somewhere.”

  “Like here.”

  He shook his head. “He could say you had invited him. It would be his word against yours.”

  “Then where?”

  “My place in Galveston. He sure as hell wouldn’t be on any guest list of mine. How soon can you be packed?”

  Chapter 26

  Oren answered on the first ring. Wick told him they had decided to go along with his plan.

  “Dr. Newton is okay with it?”

  “No,” Wick said. “No more than I am. It’s hackneyed and Lozada would have to be a moron to fall for it.”

  “But no one has a better idea.”

  “I do. Arm me to the teeth and let me hunt down the bastard and blow him away.”

  “That plan could sorely affect your quality of life in the future.”

  “Which is the only reason I’m agreeing to this one. Rennie is of the same mind. It’s not an ideal strategy, but it’s the only one we’ve got going. On the plus side, it smacks Lozada right where it’ll hurt most—in his ego.”

  “That’s why it just might work.”

  “What did you and Grace decide?”

  “The girls went. Grace stayed.”

  Wick smiled into the telephone. “Good for Grace.”

  “Yeah, well… Listen up. By the time you get to your place in Galveston, there’ll be men watching it around the clock. Don’t look for them. You won’t see them. I hope not, anyway.”

  “Will you be coming down?”

  “Would you invite your best buddy to a lovefest with your new squeeze?”

  “I don’t know. How kinky are we gonna get?”

  “Wick.”

  “Sorry. I got it.” If Lozada spotted Oren, he would know it was a setup.

  “I’ll be in touch by phone ’round the clock,” Oren continued. “Keep your eyes open and check in often. If you hear a seagull fart, I want to know about it.”

  “Are you sure? ’Cause if they fart as much as they shit—”

  “Will you stop messing around? This isn’t funny.”

  “I know. All joking aside.” And he meant it.

  “Lozada’s gone underground, Wick. You know what usually happens when he disappears for a few days.”

  “A body turns up.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I. However, I don’t think he could find us this soon.”

  “But it’s possible. I’ve got people all over town talking up your affair with the surgeon who saved your life. Word has probably reached him that you and Dr. Newton are a hot item.”

  “Oh, he’ll turn up. I’m sure of that.” He hadn’t told Oren or Rennie about the red flag he’d waved in Lozada’s face in the form of a nursery rhyme. Lozada wouldn’t be able to resist the dare.

  He signed off with Oren, then went outside to take a look around. He walked the perimeter of the house, around the barn and garage, checked inside both. Nothing seemed to be amiss. When he came back in, he and Rennie checked all the windows and doors to be certain they were locked. She wasn’t overwrought, but she had the good sense to be cautious.

  “Who would have thought my stint as a juror would result in this?”

  “You didn’t know the defendant was going to develop a crush on you.”

  “That word implies an innocent, almost childlike infatuation. This is far beyond that. This is…”

  When she seemed at a loss for the right word, Wick summed it up. “Lozada.”

  “Even his name sounds menacing.” In a subconscious gesture, she rubbed her arms as though she were chilled. “Did he honestly expect me to be flattered by his creepy attention?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “How could he be that arrogant? He was on trial for murder. Capital murder that carried a death sentence. In that situation who could be thinking of romance?”

  “No one who’s rational. Only someone with Lozada’s delusions of grandeur. He thinks of himself as the winning quarterback.”

  “In the Super Bowl for professional assassins.”

  “Something like that. He’s one of the best at what he does. As far as we know he hasn’t gone international, but why should he? He can make more money with less risk working out of Fort Worth, USA. Besides, most of the guys who do that kind of killing work deep undercover, which isn’t Lozada’s style. Why should he hassle with popping public officials and having entire governments and Interpol on his tail? He’s a big fish in a relatively small pond.”

  “So what woman wouldn’t welcome his attention. That’s his thinking?”

  “Exactly,” he said. “Add to that his quest for the best. He grew up middle class. His only sibling was severely retarded and physically handicapped. His parents depleted their resources providing for him.

  “So to Lozada, acquisitions are a big thing. He sees himself as a well-paid businessman who can recognize and afford the finest of everything. To complete the package, he wants a classy woman by his side.”

  “What about scorpions?”

  “He collects them. Yeah, gives you the heebie-jeebies, doesn’t it? They’re sort of like his mascot. They’re nocturnal, they kill their prey at night. He wouldn’t collect anything like coins or stamps or even art because that would be too ordinary. He prides himself on being exceptional.”

  She tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. “You’ve analyzed him thoroughly, haven’t you?”

  “I haven’t been idling my time away since leaving the department. Contrary to what Oren believes, I’ve been busy. I’ve collected everything on Lozada I could get my hands on.”

  “Such as?”

  “Public-school records. He was psychologically profiled when he was in junior high school, roughly when his criminal career began. That’s where I got most of the background stuff. His sociopathic behavior, the superiority complex, have been consistent throughout his life. I’ve studied him inside out. Psychologically speaking, I probably know him better than I know myself.”

  He paused, then said grimly, “One thing I didn’t know was that he was sleeping with Sally Horton. If I had, I would have warned her to stay away from him, and from me, and I’d have been watching my back that night. If he thinks you and I are lovers…” He didn’t need to say more. “Sally Horton wasn’t even important to him. You’re very important, Rennie.”

  “And I’ve betrayed him with another man.”

  “That’s how he’ll see it. Don’t underestimate the danger you’re in. Oren has got cops and informers spreading juicy gossip about us. Lozada won’t be able to tolerate our being together. You’ve cheated on him, and I’ve stolen one of his play-pretties.”

  “But I’m not his anything, except an obsession.”

  “If he thinks y
ou’re his, you’re his.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “I’d like to avoid that.” He tipped up her chin so that they were looking directly at one another. “Say the word and I’ll call Oren back, tell him we’ll get Lozada by some other means, some way that doesn’t put you in danger. I came here last night to warn you, to urge you to get far away until Lozada is out of the picture one way or the other.”

  “That could take a long time.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said, thinking again of the note he’d sent to Lozada last night.

  “I’m already in danger, Wick. With or without you, I spurned him. Besides, I can’t just up and leave my responsibilities. No, let me put it another way. I won’t.”

  “All right then, how soon can you be ready?”

  “You aren’t thinking of leaving tonight?”

  “As soon as you get packed.”

  “Packing isn’t the issue. You’re less than twenty-four hours out of the hospital and you left days before you should have.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. Your back is stiff and sore. You can’t walk across a room without grimacing. Imagine driving across the state. You have no stamina, and I’m still afraid of infection and pneumonia, both of which could be fatal. You might’ve popped some stitches.”

  “You said the incision looked fine.”

  “There are many more sutures inside than out. Promise me that at the first sign of tenderness in your abdomen, you’ll tell me.”

  “I’ll tell you. If I start feeling really rotten between here and Galveston, I’ll stop at the nearest hospital.”

  “We’re not leaving tonight,” she said stubbornly. “I’ve deferred to you and Wesley on the police matters. But your health is my domain. We’re going nowhere until you’ve had more rest. End of argument.”

  * * *

  They shared the bed since he refused to leave her downstairs alone to sleep on the couch. He said, “It’s a police matter to which you should defer. End of argument.”

  Being a true-blue gentleman, he kept his pants on and lay outside the covers. He dozed, but falling into a deep sleep just wasn’t going to happen tonight, partially because he had slept so long during the day, partially because he was alert to every sound, partially because he was trying to think with the guile of Lozada, and partially because he was acutely aware of Rennie sleeping beside him.