Delivered

Home > Other > Delivered > Page 14
Delivered Page 14

by Charles, Eva


  I take a sip of bourbon and ask a question I’m probably going to regret asking. But I do it anyway, because I need to know. “Why don’t you want JD to know you love him?”

  “He’s jus’ use it ‘gainst me.” Her voice fades, like she moved away from the phone.

  “Gabrielle?” There’s only soft snoring. She thinks I’d use her love as a weapon against her. It shreds what’s left of my heart. She’s not entirely wrong. I’m a soulless bastard. I wouldn’t mean to hurt her, but I would use anything necessary. No question about it.

  I want to go over and check on her, but I don’t. The last thing she needs right now is me. She made that abundantly clear when she left, and continues to make it clear when she’s sober. I call security instead.

  “Make sure someone stays in the house with her,” I instruct Rafe. I know Gabrielle well enough to be pretty sure the chances are slim to none that she’s sleeping naked. “She’s drunk. Totally shitfaced. Turn her on her side and put a couple pillows under her head too. And do it without even taking a small peek,” I warn, just in case I’m wrong about the pajamas.

  I try to go back to work, but my concentration is shot. After pouring myself another drink, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. I hear her voice, I’m so wet. Just how you like me. I take out my cock and stroke it. I hear her voice again. Is your cock out? It is now, darlin’.

  I imagine slinging her long leg up over my shoulder and diving into that sweet wet cunt until I can’t breathe. I slip a finger inside her, then two, and three. Sucking on her hard, little clit. My hand tightens around my shaft, the dark head slipping through my fist.

  I hear her little gasps, imagine her breathy cries. I hold her down so she needs to take it all. Everything I give her. My balls are tightening, and the tingle of release is tickling the base of my spine. Oh fuck. I jerk faster, and before I can even think about what a mess I’m about to make, my body shudders and spasms.

  The phone rings before my dick’s tucked away.

  “Wilder,” I pant into the phone.

  “JD. Chief Parker here. Too late to call?”

  “Sleep’s overrated.”

  17

  Julian

  After I hang up with the police chief, my first call is to Smith. “Wade Scott is going to be arrested for his wife’s murder,” I blurt out as soon as he answers the phone. “The police might have already picked him up.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “Just got off the phone with the police chief. They have Wade on video leaving the conference he was supposed to be attending. They were able to piece feeds together from various places along the route. He was hanging around outside their house earlier in the day. And he followed her to the hotel that night.”

  “No shit. My guys were at the Scott’s early in the evening when Gabby was there. They never mentioned it.”

  “Parker didn’t specify a time. Just said earlier in the day. Wade didn’t cover his tracks very well for someone who supposedly premeditated a murder.”

  “Premeditated? Jesus Christ. They have a motive?”

  “Said he followed her because he thought she was having an affair with Tom, the hotel manager. Apparently, Wade’s not sure the baby was his kid. He told the cops Georgina had a long history of slutty behavior that he just learned about.”

  “He told the cops his dead wife was a slut? Fucking idiot. Did he admit to setting the fire?”

  “No. He said Tom let him in the back door—the one employees use, and he went directly to the office to confront his wife. They fought, he pushed her, and she fell. He said she was on the ground when he left, but she was alive.”

  “How does he know?”

  “I asked the same thing. She was crying.”

  “Scumbag.”

  “Then he went back to the conference hotel where he was staying. Denies setting the fire. What do you think?”

  “I think he needs to have his fingernails removed, one at a time. But he sounds like a moron. Not like someone who could poison Gus with a substance that’s impossible to detect, disable smoke alarms, and set a fire in a way that would cause maximum damage. Pushing around a pregnant woman, even killing her, I can buy that. But I’d be surprised if he could pull off the rest. And where the fuck is Tom? Think Wade killed him too?”

  “They’re still looking for Tom. I don’t buy most of it either. Wade is dumb as a box of rocks. Always has been.”

  “Think his wife was stepping out on him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you ever hear she got around? Because that could open up a whole new can of worms.”

  “When we were kids, she was always ready to spread her legs. At least that’s the impression I got. But I never heard anything about her. And I would have heard something. Teenage boys can’t keep their mouths shut after they get some. I wouldn’t start pursuing disgruntled lovers. The smart money is still on our original suspect.”

  “Maybe. We need to let everyone believe Wade did it. In some ways that’s good for us.”

  “Even Gabrielle?” I told myself I was done with the lies.

  “For now.”

  I nod. He’s right, but I don’t like it. “Where are we on the other stuff?”

  “Making progress. Not liking anything I’ve found so far. It’s getting to be time to move the investigation up the ladder.”

  “Your call. You know how I feel about involving other people.”

  “Duly noted. Are you going to tell Gabrielle that Wade’s been arrested, or should I?”

  “Not tonight. She’s shitfaced. Margaritas and tacos with Delilah.”

  “Good. She needed to get good and drunk with a buddy tonight.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  “Stop sulking, JD. She needs people in her life beside you.”

  People who she trusts. He didn’t say it, but that’s what he meant. “Whatever. You tell her about Wade when she wakes up. I’m sure she’ll be in a pleasant mood.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because she’s going to ask a ton of questions. And I don’t want to lie to her.”

  18

  Gabrielle

  Smith’s never home, and there’s not enough to keep me busy during the day. I went from never having enough time to having nothing more than time. I need a job. But I’m not sure what I’ll do, or if I’ll even stay in Charleston. I should probably leave and start fresh somewhere else. If I stay, I’ll always be the woman who lost her pregnant best friend when the hotel she owned burned to the ground. But I’m not ready to leave yet. This is still my home, and I need the familiarity it offers.

  When JD’s at work, I often go over to the main house. Lally’s smothering, but I’m stronger now, and not afraid to push back when it gets to be too much. It’s a small price to pay for company. I always make sure to go back to Smith’s before JD gets home. Usually Lally sends me with dinner.

  Being at the main house also gives me a chance to spend time with Zack. I don’t read to him, I leave that for JD. It’s their special thing. But I tell him stories and sing to him. Sometimes I just sit quietly and hold his hand. Like right now.

  The physical therapist sticks his head in the door. “Zack ready for me?”

  “He is,” I say. “I think I’ve about bored him enough for one day.” I kiss Zack’s head, and touch my fingertips to his cheek. “See you tomorrow, Zackie.”

  I smile at the therapist and slip out the door to go to the kitchen where Lally’s cooking. I have no idea who eats all the food she prepares. But I suspect she pawns it off on Patrick and Antoine, and the various security guards who all look like they can do serious damage to a rack of ribs or a Sunday roast.

  “What are you making? I can smell it all over the house.”

  “Brisket.”

  “And macaroni and cheese?” She nods. “You spoil him.”

  “That man needs someone to spoil him,” she says. “You ready for some lunch?”

  Lunch? After last
night, I’m not quite ready to put anything in my stomach yet. I’m surprised I don’t feel worse than I do. “It’s not even eleven o’clock.”

  “How about I make you a cup of tea? You look a little green around the gills.”

  Lally never misses anything. “Tea sounds good. I can make it.”

  “Not on my stove, you don’t, missy. Sit.”

  Her and that damn stove. She treats it like a child. I slide onto a stool at the center island. “I still can’t believe Wade killed Georgie and set the fire to cover it up.”

  “It’s a travesty. I was watching all morning, just turned the television off right before you came in, because I couldn’t listen anymore. They’re saying some awful things about him.”

  “I know this sounds terrible, but a small piece of me is relieved. I kept feeling that I did something that killed her. That there was faulty wiring, or that—that I had gotten caught up in some bad element swirling around the Wilders.”

  “You’re always letting your imagination run away with you.” She places a small porcelain teapot on the counter in front of me and swats my hand away when I reach for the handle. “Leave it to steep for a few minutes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.

  “Don’t yes ma’am me in that fresh tone,” she says, snatching the thermal mitts from a hook above the stove and pulling the brisket out of the oven. She begins to shred the warm meat between two forks. “Imagine being murdered by the man who claims he loves you. A man who kills his own child.”

  Imagine.

  Lally’s attacking the brisket like it’s Wade Scott himself. “There’s a special place in hell for that kind of evil.”

  “He never seemed that way to me,” I muse. “He was very observant.”

  “Religious you mean? Those are the worst ones.”

  “He denies killing her or setting the fire. Says they fought and he pushed her, but that’s it.”

  “Criminals are stupid. I heard he can’t keep his big mouth shut. Drip. Drip, drip. I hope they fry him.”

  “I thought about visiting him in jail.”

  She looks up and glowers at me, both hands propped on her ample hips. “What is wrong with you?”

  “There are so many unanswered questions. Questions only Wade has the answers to.”

  “You always need answers. Some people are just bad, and that’s all there is to it. If you need something to keep you busy, I got a bathroom floor that needs scrubbing.”

  “Got anything sweet to go with this tea?”

  “Look behind the flour sacks in the kitchen. Isn’t that where there’s always a cookie for you?”

  I thought it was our little secret. An innocent game JD and I played. His quiet way of saying, I’m thinking about you. “You knew?”

  “Close your mouth before something flies in. Of course, I knew. Do you think anything went on around that kitchen that I didn’t know about? If you want something sweet, go look.” She tips her head toward the pantry.

  “Did you leave me a cookie behind the flour sacks?” I ask, going into the pantry.

  “Not me.”

  I peek behind a ten-pound sack of flour, and there’s a small copper-colored tin with snowflakes waiting for me to find it. I freeze. It’s our tin. JD would always hide the last cookie for me. I stick my hand behind the flour and pull out the tin, tracing a raised snowflake with my finger before lifting the lid. There’s a cookie inside. A crisp lemon cookie with coarse lavender sugar sprinkled on top. “How long has this cookie been here?”

  “Best I can tell, he puts in a fresh one every day since you got home from the hospital. I sometimes find the old cookie in the trash. Boy has always been a glutton for punishment.”

  “It’s the same tin.”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you bring it with you from Wildwood?”

  “Not me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he left cookies for me to find?”

  “Some things we have to discover for ourselves. When we’re ready.” She slides the brisket back into the oven. “It’s better that way.”

  19

  Gabrielle

  I take a platter of brisket and macaroni and cheese back to the cottage with me. Smith’s car is in the driveway when I get there. That’s a surprise. I’m not sure whether I should knock or use my key. What if he has a woman with him? But as I get closer, I notice the inside door is open.

  “Hey,” he says with a smile when I walk in. His eyes immediately drop to the tinfoil. “Did Lally send you home with that?”

  “She did. And there’s plenty. You hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  “It’s still warm,” I grin. “Grab some plates and I’ll get silverware.”

  “Oh God,” Smith moans when I lift the foil off the dish. “I keep asking that woman to marry me, but she wants no part of it.”

  “You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into with her. You’d meet your bossy match, that’s for sure.” I dish out supper, while Smith drools over my shoulder.

  “That’s why I’m single.” He takes the plates from me and puts them on the table. “You doing okay with the news I gave you this morning? About Wade.”

  “I’m still in shock. I’ve been watching the coverage off and on all day. I still find it hard to believe he’d do something so heinous.”

  “I’ll be in Virginia tomorrow,” he says, changing the subject. “Spending the night with my folks. You need anything before I go?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll be here when you get back. I’m afraid there doesn’t seem to be much progress on the carriage house JD promised to fix up. I bet you didn’t expect me to be here so long when you offered to let me stay here.”

  “No expectations. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you here.” Smith’s mouth twitches at the corners. “I never asked you, how did JD take it when you told him you’d be staying with me?”

  “Let’s just say the vein in his neck was pulsing so hard, I thought it would jump into my lap, but he managed to hold his tongue.”

  Smith tosses his head back and laughs. “God, I wish I’d seen that. I almost feel sorry for him.” He glances at me. “Not really.”

  “You’re terrible. But thank you for letting me stay with you. I can’t say it enough. Is me being here complicating things with security? You know, with your people.”

  “Nope. Not unless you’re planning on sneaking into my bed some night.”

  I feel the color drain from my cheeks.

  “I’m kidding, Gabby. But think how much that vein in JD’s neck would pop if you did?”

  “Forget the vein. His entire head would pop off.”

  Smith lets out a big gutsy laugh. “He’s a possessive bastard and so many other things, but I would trust JD with my life. I don’t have brothers, not biological ones, anyway. He’s the closest thing I have to a blood brother. Did he tell you we were going to join the army together after we graduated from college?”

  “JD, in the army? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “It’s true. We had it all planned out. He wanted be special forces, too.”

  “What happened? They tell him he couldn’t enlist as a general?”

  Smith grins. “Not entirely sure. My father talked him out of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t know for sure. My dad just said not all men have the honor of serving in uniform, some are needed more elsewhere. Then he told me to mind my own damn business.”

  “Maybe he recognized that JD didn’t have the temperament for it.”

  Smith shrugs. “In a lot of ways JD has the perfect temperament for special forces. He’s arrogant, thinks he knows it all and is God’s gift to mankind. Plus, he’s a huge asshole. That’s pretty much all you need.” He winks at me. “JD had the intangibles. And nothing a commander likes more than to kick a little punk’s ass until they learn to obey orders. I think JD said something that made my father believe his family needed him more than his country did.” Smith gets up. �
�Want a beer?”

  I shake my head. “No thanks. I drank enough last night to last me a lifetime.”

  I think about what would have become of Zack, or even of Gray and Chase, if JD had enlisted. It would have been terrible for them. But it might have been good for JD. It might have taught him how to trust and depend on others to carry some of life’s weight. Will you ever learn to do that, JD? Will you ever trust someone other than yourself?

  20

  Gabrielle

  I spent most of the afternoon with the insurance adjuster. It was torture. Then I went by the cemetery to see if the graveside had been left neat after the interment. It’s a good thing I went. The flowers from the funeral were strewn around in a haphazard way with no rhyme or reason. I spent an hour rearranging the bouquets and sprays by color and size. There weren’t that many flowers, but it took me a long time to be satisfied. I made Rafe and Gus sit in the car so I could be alone with Georgie.

  The kettle starts to whistle seconds before the doorbell rings, like it’s trying to warn me. I look into the peephole. It’s JD.

  Maybe if I’m quiet he’ll go away. I slump, with my back against the door until the bell rings again. He knows you’re here, and he’s not going away. I turn the alarm off and let him in. “Hey,” I say, trying not to sound too bitchy. Or ungrateful. He has a tall plastic container in his hand that looks like soup.

  “I’m not really up for company, it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

  “I’m just here to deliver some soup. Lally said to tell you she put elbow macaroni in it and cut the carrots into tiny cubes.”

  I smile. The week’s not up so I guess she’s still allowing the poor-little-me act she threatened to put an end to. “You didn’t come around today; she thought maybe you hadn’t eaten.”

 

‹ Prev