“Laura! Laura!” His agonized shouts echoed through the empty room, seeming to mock him.
* * *
Knowing that Katie wasn’t coming back for a while, Alex took on the role of Phoebe’s personal maid. He gave her a washcloth to press to her eyes as he washed her hair in the sink. Being careful of her bruises, he massaged her scalp with a gentle touch.
“What’s so funny?” she asked as he chuckled.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
When she nodded, Alex put a towel around her shoulders and let her look in the mirror.
Phoebe stared at her reflection and laughed. He didn’t blame her. Her hair was extra sudsy, and it was swirled on her head like an ice cream cone ending with a kewpie doll curl.
“If you wanna keep your hair like this, I don’t mind,” he said. “I think it looks pretty cute. I could start calling you Astro Girl.”
“Astro Girl’s hair sticks up in two places, not one.” Phoebe gurgled. “Wash it out, you silly man. And remind me to never let you near me with a can of hairspray!”
CHAPTER SIXTY
“Laura!” Peter’s voice broke on a sob. He thrashed uselessly against his restraints. He could feel blood trickling down his arms.
“No!” he cried in anguish. “Please, God! No!”Despair filled him at the thought of what Spider might be doing.
“Laura!” he cried again. His agonized shout reverberated in the icy darkness. He pulled against his cuffs with all his might. Pain made red dots dance before his eyes. He pulled harder.
Suddenly, he heard a muffled moan in the darkness. He stopped moving. He stopped breathing. He focused all his energy on listening. He heard it again.
“Laura?” he said tentatively almost fearing to hope. “Laura, is that you?”
“Peter?” A soft voice whimpered.
Indescribable relief flooded his body, electrifying him with joy. Closing his eyes, he breathed a heartfelt prayer of gratitude.
“Peter?” The voice sobbed. “Peter, my head...”
“What about your head, my love?” he said tenderly.
“It hurts,” Laura murmured in a muzzy voice.
“That’s from the gas. It’ll go away soon. Can you move?”
He heard scuffling and knew she was scrabbling around the floor.
“I feel sick.” Her voice was heavy with confusion. “Where are you? Why don’t you come?”
“I’m right here. Can you follow my voice and come to me?”
“My head hurts,” she said in that strange, slurred voice. “I’m cold.”
His heart clamped in fear. She was so much smaller than he was. The frigid temperatures could be killing her. “Laura,” he said firmly, “don’t try to stand, but crawl over here. Can you do that? Can you come to me?”
He heard more scuffling.
“That’s it,” he coaxed. “Keep coming.”
He felt her icy hands on his chest. She was shivering violently.
“You’re freezing,” he said. “Climb on my lap and put your hands inside my shirt.”
He felt her struggling to comply. Her movements were slow and clumsy. When she was resting with her head against his chest and her frosty hands pressed weakly to his stomach, he buried his lips in the glossy depths of her hair.
“That’s right,” he murmured, “nestle close. I’ve got you.”
* * *
Nicole’s curiosity grew as Zeke parked next to a house with a picket fence. “What are we doing here?” she asked, running manicured fingers through her ponytail.
“Visiting one of my ladies, just like I said,” he replied, helping her from the car.
Feeling confused, she watched as Zeke filled a box with produce. Her brows rose when he topped the box with a bouquet of yellow daisies and a gift bag. She’d assumed the bouquets and gift bags were for her. Obviously, she was wrong. She wasn’t sure what Zeke was up to, but surely a man wouldn’t take his new girlfriend to visit his other flames…would he?
Zeke’s lips twitched as he rang the doorbell. “Feeling jealous?” he asked.
She gave him a glare. “Why should I? We’re not in a serious relationship. Actually, we’re not in a relationship at all.”
His smile grew. “That’s a whopper, and you know it.”
She shrugged a “casual” shoulder. “Regardless, I’m not jealous.”
“Do you know how expressive your face is?” Zeke chuckled. “You should avoid playing poker—your left eyebrow twitches when you lie.”
Before she could give a scathing reply, an old lady popped the door open with a delighted squeal. “I’ve been watching for you, Zekie-sweets! I made your favorite gingerbread.”
Nicole blinked. She wasn’t sure who’d she’d been expecting to open the door, but she certainly hadn’t been envisioning an old woman.
“Auntie Martha,” Zeke said, stepping forward. “I’d like you to meet Nicole Cunning.”
Martha offered her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, dolly-girl. Zeke’s one of my favorite people. He stops by every week just to spoil me.”
Nicole peered past Martha into the house. “Oh? Does he visit your family too? Perhaps your granddaughter?”
Martha looked confused. “Pardon me?”
“Auntie Martha lives alone,” Zeke said in a voice quivering with laughter.
A smile she couldn’t stop fluttered to Nicole’s lips. “Oh!”
As Martha motioned them into the house, Zeke whispered in Nicole’s ear, “Not jealous, eh? Like I said, you should avoid playing poker.”
Nicole opened her mouth. At a loss for words, she closed it again with a snap.
Laughing, Zeke handed Martha the gift bag. “I have a surprise for you, Auntie.”
“Oh, goodie!” the old woman gushed, opening the bag. It contained a novel and a box of chocolates. Exclaiming in joy over the presents, Martha gave Zeke’s cheek an enthusiastic kiss.
“My boy always knows how to brighten my day,” Martha said to Nicole as she ushered them into the kitchen. “I’m not really related to him, but he couldn’t be dearer to me than if we were.”
Zeke began to whistle. Taking wilted daisies from a vase on the table, he replaced them with the fresh bouquet. Winking at Martha, he turned to the sink and started washing produce.
Martha cut pieces of hot gingerbread and topped them with whipped cream. Pointing Nicole to a chair, she asked, “So, are you Zekie-sweets’ sweetheart? I’ve been telling him to find a girl.”
Nicole peeked at the back of Zeke’s head as he washed grapes. She could swear she saw his ears bending backward to catch her answer. His whole body seemed to be listening. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her reply after the stunt he’d pulled with his “ladies,” she put a finger to her lips and nodded. Martha’s grin widened.
“No fair talking nonverbally while my back is turned!” Zeke protested, rinsing the colander. “Auntie Martha, what’d Nicole say?”
“That’s between us women.” Martha laughed.
Zeke flashed a grin over his shoulder and dried his hands. “Conspiracy of silence, eh?”
“Something like that,” Nicole murmured, handing him a plate of gingerbread.
When they’d finished eating, he asked, “Auntie, what do you need done?”
Within minutes, Zeke was on the roof cleaning gutters while Nicole helped Martha write out checks to pay her bills. When they were finished, Martha pressed a parcel of gingerbread in Zeke’s hands and hugged Nicole.
“Don’t let Zekie-sweets get away,” she whispered in Nicole’s ear. “He’s a keeper!”
After they left, Zeke drove to a brick house and was greeted by another old lady. This one, “Auntie” Tammy, was equally delighted to see Zeke, and she gushed over the fudge turtles and audio books he’d brought her. Nicole, realizing the routine that was being established, put fresh carnations into Tammy’s vase while Zeke washed the produce.
When he asked Tammy what she needed, she motioned with an arthrit
ic hand. “The usual.”
With a quick twist of his wrist, Zeke began opening the jars and bottles Tammy had lined up on the counter.
Looking at him with obvious love, Tammy whispered to Nicole, “Don’t lose this one, dear—he’s a keeper.”
They visited two more old ladies after that. “Auntie” Marie received a bouquet of sunflowers, some knitting yarn, and caramels. “Auntie” Karen received lavender roses, a book of crossword puzzles, and purple jellybeans. Nicole fit easily into Zeke’s routine, working beside him.
At Marie’s house, they vacuumed carpets and installed an air conditioner. At Karen’s, they fixed a leaky faucet and removed storm windows. Both old women exclaimed with pleasure when Zeke arrived, and both told Nicole to hang on to him because he was a “keeper.”
When they arrived at the fifth house, Zeke smiled and said, “Time to meet my ‘adopted’ Granny. When I moved here, she took me under her wing.”
Feeling slightly nervous, but not sure why, Nicole smoothed her hair as Zeke rang the bell. A wisp of a lady impeccably dressed in what was probably her Sunday best came to the door. She was scented with French perfume, and her face was made-up with care.
Kissing the woman’s powdered cheek, Zeke proudly announced, “Granny, let me present Miss Nicole Cunning. If all goes well, you’re looking at my future wife. She won’t admit that she’s my girl yet, but I’m working on it.”
Blushing at Zeke’s audacious proclamation, Nicole gasped. “Future wife? It’s only our second date!”
Granny’s smile froze. “Second date or not, a silly snip like you should be tickled pink that Zeke’s considering you! What’s wrong with you? Are you snooty or soggy brained?”
Nicole’s eyes widened. “I…I…”
Zeke chuckled. “She’s neither. She’s just not sure if she wants to love a big-nosed geek like me. But she’ll fall for me yet—just wait and see.”
Drawing herself up to her full height, Nicole sputtered, “That’s about enough of that! I’ll speak for myself.” As Zeke’s chuckle turned into a belly laugh, Nicole tried to ignore the pachyderm in the room and offered Granny her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You’ve got spunk, I give you that,” the old woman muttered. “But Zeke deserves a special woman, and I have doubts you fit the bill.” She turned to Zeke. “There’s homemade bread in the kitchen. You can make yourself a turkey sandwich after you give me my hug.”
Nodding, Zeke engulfed Granny in a tender embrace that lasted a full two minutes according to the living room clock. He only let go when the old woman sighed and said, “Thank you, Zeke, that will hold me for another week. This big old house gets lonesome sometimes.”
Taking a package of sugar-free peppermints from Granny’s gift bag, Zeke refilled the candy dish by the TV. The old woman grinned in delight when he also gave her some fancy diabetic cookies and a fashion magazine.
Nicole and Zeke fell into their routine. Nicole replaced Granny’s pink roses while Zeke washed the produce. After they’d eaten their sandwiches, Zeke said his famous line, “What do you need?”
At Granny’s request, they changed some light bulbs and oiled a squeaky hinge. When they were getting ready to leave, a home healthcare worker arrived at the door. The nurse gave a sparkling smile and became positively animated when Zeke greeted her. Zeke didn’t seem to notice the girl’s shameless flirting, but Nicole definitely noticed and started to seethe.
As Zeke was telling Granny goodbye, the nurse pulled Nicole aside and asked in a covert hiss, “Are you with Zeke?”
Nicole hesitated.
“I’ve been trying to get him to look my way for months,” the nurse confided. “If you’re not going after him, can you point him my direction?”
“What?” Nicole sputtered.
“Honey, are you after him or not?”
Looking the nurse straight in the eye, Nicole said firmly, “Hands off. He’s mine.”
The nurse narrowed her eyes. “He’s a keeper—”
“That’s the fifth time I’ve been told that today,” Nicole muttered in a hostile voice. “Believe me, I know it.”
“If you let him slip an inch, I’ll be waiting to scoop him up.”
“Don’t bother waiting.” Nicole glared. “I’m not letting him get away.”
Later, when they were back in the car, Nicole noticed Zeke chuckling to himself. He had such an air of tickled delight about him that she wondered just how good his hearing was and what exactly he’d overheard. Looking at his twitching lips, she began to squirm.
“Problems?” he asked.
Studying the cute, kissable dent above his lips, she shook her head. She wasn’t going to waste her time feeling embarrassed that she’d told a vampy-eyed twerp to get lost. After all, Zeke had been pretty forward about where he saw their relationship heading, and she didn’t really mind if he had heard her staking her claim.
“I admire what you’re doing with your ladies,” she said as he pulled away from the curb. “What started it?”
“James 1:27,” he replied. “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” Turning a corner, Zeke said seriously, “I was reading that verse in the King James, and it grabbed me by the throat. It made me realize that I could be doing more for God than just going to church and paying my tithe. That’s when I started visiting my widows.”
“What about the orphans?”
Zeke smiled. “We’re visiting them next.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Sighing deeply, Laura snuggled closer to Peter. She didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d regained consciousness, but her hands felt warmer and her shivers were less violent. The room itself was becoming less icy. She surmised that the temperature outside was beginning to rise.
“Better?” Peter asked in a low, loving tone.
“My head feels clearer,” she replied. “And I don’t feel so nauseous.”
“That’s good. You were experiencing stage-two hypothermia. I was worried about you.”
She gave a weak chuckle. “You didn’t need to be. Your chest felt like a heating pad. It thawed me out and felt wonderfully comfortable in the process.” Taking her hands out of his shirt, she buttoned him up.
“Leave them inside for a while longer.”
She shook her head. “My fingers are warm now. I don’t want you getting cold.”
Running her hands around his back, she hugged him. Realizing he wasn’t returning her embrace, she stroked his cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
For the first time, she noticed that his voice was strained and his breathing labored.
“No, you’re not!” she exclaimed, bolting upright.
In the darkness, Laura ran frantic hands over his chest and shoulders. She felt his arms being pinned against the wall. Biting back a cry, she trailed her fingers until she felt the mangled, bloody flesh at his wrist.
“Peter,” she cried, “why didn’t you tell me?”
Without waiting for his reply, she slid off his lap and fingered his other wrist. It was even worse than the first—blood was dripping in a steady stream. Rising shakily to her feet, she felt around the floor with her hands, trying to locate their flashlights and first aid supplies.
“What are you doing?” Peter asked. “You aren’t steady on your feet yet.”
“I’m looking for our things.”
“Are you dizzy?”
“Not much,” she lied, trying to discern shadowy shapes in the darkness.
As Laura continued groping the floor, the horrible truth became apparent. Spider had taken everything. He had even removed the skeletal remains of the mattress. Hoping to find something he’d missed, she trailed her fingers in the far corner and felt an object. Shuddering violently, she dropped it. The only thing their captor left was the shriveled bodies of the tarantulas. Wiping her hands
on her jeans, she went back to Peter.
“What did you find?” he asked as she tripped over his legs and collapsed beside him.
“Nothing.” Her words fell like stones in the darkness. “He took everything.”
“What are you doing?” Peter asked as the silence was broken by the rustle of cloth.
“What needs to be done,” she replied, fumbling with her clothing.
Peter was silent for a moment and then he seemed to put two and two together. “Are you taking off your shirt? If you are, please put it back on. You’ll get too cold.”
“I need something to stop your bleeding.”
“Not your shirt,” he said firmly. “You’re still borderline hypothermic. Besides, if Spider comes back, I want you decently covered. If you need cloth, use my socks.”
Recognizing the wisdom of his words, Laura untied Peter’s shoes and bound his socks around his wrists.
“How bad is it?” he asked ruefully. “How much blood did I lose?”
Laura fingered the bloody puddles on the floor. “I can’t tell for sure,” she said, “but you lost a lot. Hopefully, not a dangerous amount, though. If we can get the flow stopped, I think you’ll be fine. Just don’t make any sudden movements or you’ll get dizzy.”
“I don’t think sudden moves will be a problem.” He chuckled.
“Peter, why did you pull so hard?” she asked in dismay. “You should’ve stopped tugging when you felt yourself bleeding. The damage you did to your wrists is awful!”
For a moment, he didn’t reply. When he did speak, his voice was choked. “I couldn’t see you in the darkness. I thought he had you. I had to get free…” His words clogged with tears and stumbled to a stop.
Hearing the horror in his voice, Laura nestled close. “Shh,” she murmured, kissing his bandaged forehead. “I’m right here.”
When his breathing calmed, she slid experimental hands over his cuffs. Fingering them, the slim hope within her died. Trying to control her emotions, she said in a tight voice, “Your restraints are screwed directly into the wall.”
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