by Noelle Adams
She had needed him, but she didn’t like that about herself. She changed from nodding to shaking her head. “I don’t need you. I’m an independent woman.”
“I know you are.” Now there was a smile in his voice, but she couldn’t seem to turn her head to look at him. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”
He seemed to really mean it—like he knew her for real and cared about her anyway. She slumped against him. “I want to be independent,” she mumbled, feeling more out of it than ever but wanting to somehow explain her conflicted feelings.
He wrapped an arm around her. “You can be. No one is saying you shouldn’t be.”
“But I don’t feel independent with you. I feel…” She buried her face in his shirt.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
“Needy,” she admitted, her voice muffled. She turned her head to speak more clearly. “You make me feel needy.”
Nick wrapped his other arm around her too, and he tightened the hug so she felt warm and protected and safe, even after saying such a thing.
After what felt like a long time, she mumbled, “I’m drunk.”
Nick chuckled, loosening his arms. “I know you are. There’s no way you’d be saying so much if you weren’t drunk. Drink some more water.”
She nodded soberly and found her bottle of water. Then she diligently took swallow after swallow, vaguely hoping that drinking enough would somehow clear her mind.
While she drank, Nick changed out of his jeans and T-shirt and into a pair of pajama pants from the overnight bag he’d brought with him. Then he knelt down on the floor in front of her and carefully took off one of her shoes.
“I can do that,” she said, starting to pull her foot away.
“You drink your water. I’ll do this.”
This seemed like a fair deal, so she drank the water while he removed her shoes and then stood her up to slide off her jeans, careful not to take her panties with them. With her help, he took off her top too. He found the pajamas she’d changed into after her shower earlier, and he helped her into them.
She looked down at herself, surprised that the change had happened so quickly. Then she took a few more swallows to finish her bottle of water, pleased with the accomplishment.
“Do you need anything before bed?” Nick asked.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I’ll let you do that on your own.”
“You’d better.”
She went to the bathroom and washed her face. Then she had the inspiration to brush her teeth so she did that too. She went back out to the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you going to sleep with me?”
“There’s only one bed in the room.”
That was true. It was a very good insight. She definitely wasn’t at her best at the moment. “Good point.”
Nick handed her a fresh bottle of water. “Drink some of this too, or you’ll wake up with a killer headache.”
She sighed. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“I shouldn’t have gone out.”
“You could have gone out. There was nothing wrong with that. But maybe you shouldn’t have drunk so much.”
She slumped down, taking a long time to arrange herself on the pillow and then pull the covers up over her. When she had, she stared up at him, loving the sight of his familiar face as he stood above her. “I missed you,” she admitted.
His expression changed, but she was too out of it to figure out exactly how. “I missed you too.”
She smiled at this, since it made her happy. She was still smiling as he went to the bathroom himself and came out a few minutes later, turning off the lights as he did. He crawled into bed beside her, and she scooted over so she could nestle against him.
She fell asleep before she could sort out exactly how she was feeling.
***
The next morning, she woke up with ashes in her mouth and a pounding headache.
She moaned as she tried to open her eyes. “Why are the lights so bright?” she rasped, burrowing her face in the pillow.
“Because it’s after seven,” Nick said. “I wasn’t sure what time you needed to be up, but I didn’t want you to oversleep.”
He sounded wide awake, and he smelled like coffee as he came over to sit on the edge of the bed beside her.
His words pierced through the fog in her mind, and she groaned again as she forced herself to sit up.
The room spun for a minute, so she had to breathe deeply.
“Drink some water,” Nick said softly, handing her the partly drunk bottle from last night.
“You and your water.”
“It will help.”
“I know.” She chugged down some of the water, trying to clear her mouth of the terrible taste. “Why the hell did I drink so much last night? Damn, I was stupid.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Nick said lightly. “Everyone does it occasionally.”
“I usually don’t. I’m usually totally pulled together.”
Nick smiled at her as he brushed her hair out of her face. “Well, then it’s good for you to know how the rest of us feel most of the time.”
“Like all the threads of your life are coming unraveled?” She took a few more gulps of water, the headache easing slightly.
“Exactly.”
“I prefer to have all my threads in place.”
“I’m sure you’ll get them back into order pretty quickly.” Nick got up and went to the coffee pot on the little counter across the room to pour her a cup.
When he brought it over to her, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“No problem. But don’t stop drinking the water, just because you have the coffee too.”
“No,” she said, a little fuzzy about what happened the night before but not entirely so. Nick had really helped her. She didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t been here. “I mean thank you for flying out here.”
Nick looked slightly uncomfortable, the way he often did when she thanked him too earnestly for something. “Oh. That was nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing to me. I’m really glad you’re here.”
Nine
Two weeks later, Jenn was hurrying through getting dressed, since it was already after six in the morning.
More and more lately, she’d been sleeping in a bit later—sometimes not getting to the office until six-thirty. Rationally, she knew this was a good thing. She wasn’t nearly as stressed as she’d been three months ago, and she didn’t get nearly as many tension headaches. But it was still unusual enough for her that she felt like she was running late when she was after six leaving in the morning.
She was whirling the ingredients for her morning smoothie when she sensed a presence behind her. Her eyes widened when she glanced over her shoulder and saw Nick approaching, wearing his old flannel pajama pants, with bare chest and bare feet, rubbing his face like he was trying to wake himself up.
“I thought you were sleeping in this morning,” she said when the blender died down.
“I was.” He headed straight for the coffee pot.
He’d worked late last night. She’d woken up at about two in the morning, and he’d just been coming in.
She waited for him to make himself a cup of coffee before she pressed him for more information.
She didn’t have to press. He took his first sip and then said, “I had a lead come in just now—about the missing girl. I want to follow it up right away.”
“Really? That’s great! Does it sound promising?”
“I think so.” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the counter, holding his mug with both hands. “I hope so.”
“Me too.” She felt a deep swell of affection as she gazed at him—handsome and strong and warm and yet still needy somehow. She wanted to cradle him, and she wasn’t at all used to that feeling.
He opened his eyes a slit and peered at her. “I’m not about to fall apart.”
<
br /> “I know you’re not. I didn’t think you were. You just look tired.”
“I am tired.” He’d already finished his cup of coffee, so he turned around to make himself another. “But maybe this is the break in the case I’ve been waiting for.”
“I feel hopeful that it is.” She stepped over and gave him a one-armed hugged. “I’ve got an early meeting, so I better get going so I have time to prepare.”
“Be sure to take a break at lunch time.”
She made a teasing face at him as she went over to the entryway to collect her purse and her soft leather satchel. “Call and let me know if anything’s happening.”
“I will.” Nick must have just noticed the pile of jewelry she’d brought in with her to put on, because he stepped over to grab it. “Oh, here.”
She’d almost forgotten. She came back over and put on the drop earrings as Nick turned her around to do the silver necklace. When he’d clasped it, he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. It wasn’t passionate or intentional—just sweet and groggy—and she thought for a moment she might melt from the feelings it evoked.
But if she didn’t leave now, it would be after six-thirty before she made it to the office. She turned around and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she hurried out the door.
Ever since that night in Sioux Falls, things had been going pretty well between them. She still got nervous jitters more often than she was comfortable with, but Nick was right when he’d told her she could trust him. She knew she could. They had two more years left of their marriage, and she wasn’t going to ruin them by stressing about what may or may not happen when it was over.
Nick wasn’t going to hurt her, if he could help it, and she wasn’t going to hurt him. And she just wasn’t ready to let him go yet, no matter how much smarter that would be.
***
Jenn arrived back home at just after six that evening, but Nick wasn’t in the apartment.
Dropping her stuff on the floor, she checked down the hall, but all the rooms were empty. He must still be working. Maybe that lead he’d gotten had really panned out.
She’d tried to call him at lunchtime, but he hadn’t answered. He’d texted later to say he was really busy and was sorry to miss her call, but he hadn’t called her back.
She hoped his busyness was a good sign and not a bad sign. That one case was really troubling him, and she thought it would be better for him to wrap it up, one way or another.
He wasn’t ready to call it quits yet, though, and she wasn’t prepared to push him too hard about it. Not yet, anyway.
She was tired, but she didn’t have a headache, so she went to change into leggings and a tunic top, so she could be comfortable for the rest of the evening. Then she got the inspiration to fix something for dinner, so she sorted through her very short mental list of recipes and decided to make some simple chicken and vegetable soup. It saved well, so Nick could have some even if he got home really late.
She was happily sipping a glass of wine and chopping up vegetables when her phone rang.
“Hi there,” she said, smiling because it was Nick.
“Hey. Are you home yet?”
“Yes, I’m home. You don’t think I’d be sneaking in a late evening at work, do you?”
He chuckled. “Just checking. Sorry I missed your call earlier.”
“It’s fine. You said you were busy? Are you still working?”
“Yeah. Another very exciting stakeout.”
“Seriously? You’re still in town, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m not very far away, actually. Just in front of the library on Tudor.”
“You’re staking out a library?”
“I do what I have to do.” He sounded more upbeat than he had this morning, although his voice held its typical dry intelligence.
“So that lead is panning out?”
“I think so. I’ve made more progress today than I have for the last two months. I just want to be able to tell her parents something positive.”
“I know. I really hope you can.”
He paused for a minute, and she really didn’t know why. Then he asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m making soup,” she said. “Actually, hold on a minute while I get these vegetables into the pot.” She put down the phone and used both hands to scoop up the peppers and mushrooms and add them to the onion and celery that were already in the heated pot. Then she picked up the phone again as she stirred them around. “I’m back.”
“What brought on this culinary exertion?”
“I just felt like doing something. If you get back early enough this evening, you can have some.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be back or not.”
She was a little disappointed, but she made sure not to let it show. She definitely didn’t want him to shirk on his job just to have soup with her. “Well, it will save, so you can always heat it up tomorrow or whenever.”
“I’ll definitely do that.”
“What are you going to eat for dinner?”
“Well, I have crackers and peanuts and an apple.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“I can’t leave the car. I might miss something.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She shook her head as she pulled out some leftover rotisserie chicken from the refrigerator. “I don’t even want to know what you do when you have to pee.”
Nick laughed. “You definitely don’t want to know. I try not to drink very much.”
“Well, don’t get dehydrated. That’s very bad for you. And you probably had fast food for lunch, didn’t you?”
“I had to grab something quick.”
“Maybe you should pack yourself something healthier before you leave in the mornings when you have stakeouts.”
“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll get right on that.”
“It sounds a lot like you’re humoring me.”
“Never.” There was an obvious smile in his voice.
When she realized she was smiling like a dope, all alone in her kitchen, she pulled herself together. “I’m serious about eating better, though. You can’t let yourself fall apart just because your work demands you sit in a car all day long.”
“Look who’s talking? How many conversations have we had about not working and stressing yourself into a heart attack?”
“A lot,” she admitted. “But I’m doing better.” She paused. “I think I’m doing better.”
“You are doing better,” he said. “You’re doing great.”
“And you nagged me until I did. So I get to do the same, right?”
“I guess that’s right.”
“It is right. So tonight I’m going to fix you a healthy lunch and snacks for you to take with you tomorrow.”
Nick laughed. “Okay. If you want to. But don’t think I don’t know you’re going to get tired of packing me lunches pretty quick. You’re not the domestic sort.”
For some reason, this made her frown. “I can be a little domestic.”
“That wasn’t an insult,” he said quickly, in a different tone. “I like how you are. I’d hate for you to be always fussing over me and trying to iron my clothes and feed me oatmeal. That’s not what I want at all.”
She smiled again, feeling better and kind of silly for feeling so momentarily insecure. If any man wanted a domestic sort of woman, he’d be woefully disappointed in her. “All right then. But I can be a little domestic, when the mood strikes me, so don’t be surprised if you wake up one morning and I feed you a big bowl of oatmeal.”
“Do you even know how to make oatmeal?”
“I have no idea. Don’t they have some where you can just stick it in the microwave and heat it up?”
Nick laughed uninhibitedly. “Yes, I’m sure they have—” His words broke off abruptly, and then she heard him mutter, “What the…oh, shit!”
Then there was a terrible loud cracking noise and the line went silent.
Jenn
dropped the wooden spoon she’d been stirring the pot with. “Nick? Nick?”
There was nothing on the other end of the line. Absolutely nothing.
“Nick!” She could feel that the blood had run out of her face, and she was almost screaming on the phone, as if pure volume could get Nick back on the other end of the call.
Still nothing, though. And eventually the call just disconnected.
She stood frozen for a minute, unable to make herself move.
Something had happened. Something bad. Nothing normal could have caused what she’d just heard on the phone. It had to be really, really bad.
Nick’s job wasn’t normally dangerous, but it could occasionally be so. Not everyone wanted a private detective to be nosing around in their business. And some people might take measures to stop him.
Telling herself to be reasonable, she tried to call Nick back. But the phone just rang and rang and went to voice mail.
She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to imagine a scenario where something could have happened that would have ended the call the way it had but wasn’t very serious.
She couldn’t think of anything.
She tried to call him back once more and still just got the voice mail.
This wasn’t nothing. Something had happened to Nick. She needed to get to him.
She knew where he was. He was sitting in a car across from the library on Tudor. That was just a few miles away. She was wearing some soft flats that were really more like slippers, but she didn’t want to take the time to put on better shoes. She just grabbed her purse and ran out the door.
Then she remembered her soup, so she had to run back in and turn off the burner before she headed out of the apartment again.
It took longer than it should have to go downstairs to the underground parking garage, get in her car, pull out of the garage, and drive a few miles on downtown city streets.
She was wondering if she should have just taken a cab, but there was no guarantee of being able to find one. Minneapolis wasn’t New York. There were taxis, but they weren’t ubiquitous.
So it took much longer than she could stand, and she was in a genuine panic when she finally turned the corner onto Tudor. She was shaking and sweating and both hot and cold at the same time. She almost choked when she saw blinking red and blue lights up ahead.