He blew out a breath and shifted his focus back to the sexy redhead. Definitely not nun material. But neither was Macy, damn it! She’d been joking. Hadn’t she?
Forcing his mind off Macy, he watched Red tug at her skirt. It confused the hell out of him why women wore something too short and tight, then tugged at it. Either show off your assets or don’t! Red had a very nice pair of legs.
His focus caught on what lay beside those legs: an open phone book with something circled. His brain started playing connect the dots. Billy’s words rang in his memory. He’s killed someone else. Tanks knows where Mace works. I saw…he had her work number and address circled in a phone book. Jake edged closer. Papa’s Pizza was circled.
“Damn!” The guy or guys who’d done this were the same ones after Macy. He jerked out his cell phone and dialed Donaldson’s cell.
Answer, damn it! One ring. Two…
“Hello?” Donaldson’s voice came out sleepy.
“Everything okay?” Jake asked.
“Yes. Something happen?”
“Just keep an eye out. Looks like Tanks might be mixed up in whatever happened here, and it’s ugly. I’ll fill you in later.”
Shutting his phone, Jake considered his next call and glanced toward the bedroom. Stan wasn’t going to be happy. No cop liked having another agency nosing around. But the Gulf Coast Violent Offenders unit was already sniffing out Tanks and would want to know about this.
Raking a hand though his hair, Jake headed back to the bedroom. The least he could do was give Stan a heads-up before he made the call.
Billy watched the lights go off in Girls Galore, and his thoughts went to the young woman who’d crawled into his car—one of the establishment’s dancers who’d been angling for a little side trade. He’d been able to hide his gun beneath his shirt before she saw it. Six months ago, he would have unzipped his pants and taken her up on the ten-dollar special she’d offered, girlfriend or no. Was it prison or Ellie that had changed him? Maybe both.
Growing impatient, he waited until the last car left the parking lot. No Tanks.
“Shit!” What was he going to do if he couldn’t find the man? He sucked on his bottom lip, catching himself right before he bit down. Closing his eyes, he wondered what Mace would tell him to do.
Turn yourself in now, Billy, he could hear his sister say. But, he couldn’t do that. Even if Tanks was caught and put back in prison, he had people on the outside. People who could hurt Ellie and Mace. Billy would be helpless in the joint, unable to protect the people he loved.
“I can’t turn myself in,” he mumbled. “I gotta do this.”
Starting the van, he drove back to the house with the dead man. Maybe Tanks was fool enough to return.
When he pulled down the street, however, he saw flashing blue lights. The police! Whipping his van into a neighbor’s driveway, he squeezed air into his tight lungs and put the vehicle in reverse. Slowly he pulled away. He had to figure a different destination.
An hour later he parked in front of Andy’s trailer. He noticed the boy’s car was gone, but he supposed that didn’t mean anything. Billy crawled out of the van, wanting only to pull Ellie against him, to hold her and forget about all the terrible images flashing in his head. Images of Hal, the guard, bleeding; of Brandon gasping for air while blood oozed from his lips; and now of that dead guy with his throat slashed. For just a few minutes, he wanted to see the world as Ellie did, through rose-colored glasses.
The light glowed yellow from the front window as he stepped up on the trailer’s wobbly porch. Had Ellie waited up? The door creaked open. The smell of pine cleaner filled Billy’s nose. The trailer looked different, with no trash, no dirty clothes. Even the old sofa sat level, thanks to two phone books tucked under the missing leg.
“Ellie?” The silence hung thick. Billy’s heart began to thump. He ran to the bedroom, searched the bathroom.
Nope. Ellie wasn’t there.
While CSI loaded the body on a stretcher, Jake stepped onto the back porch. The task force had arrived, and Agent James had insisted he hang around, though all Jake wanted to do was get back to Macy.
The door slammed behind him, and Stan stormed out. “Tell me again why you felt the need to call those jerks.”
“They’re after Tanks.”
“And you think they’re more capable of catching the guy than we are?”
“I think they’ve got a leg up on the case.”
“And you’re working with them. Why?”
“I’m not working with them. I’m just…It’s the girl. The one whose house was broken into. Tanks is after her.”
“Well, that explains it. There’s always a piece of ass involved.”
Jake flinched. “Damn, Stan! You know I’m—”
His friend held up a hand, rescinding his previous comment. “I just don’t like it,” he admitted. “Why is this Tanks guy after her, anyway? And why are the Feds in on it?”
Jake hadn’t been sworn to any secrecy. “The Feds are looking at Tanks for the murder of one of their agents. I’m guessing that’s the reason Gulf Coast got involved so quickly. As for the reason he’s after Macy…It’s revenge. Her brother Billy stole his girl.”
Stan folded his arms across his chest. “Women are at the root of every problem.”
Jake scuffed his shoe against the slatted wooden porch. “You get anything in there?”
“Lots of prints. No murder weapon. One of the guys recognizes him. Name’s Mike Sawyer. He did three years for grand theft auto, and a few breaking-and-entering charges. He was—probably still is—part of a gang. They call themselves the Wolves.”
“I’ve heard of them.” Jake’s mind returned to the red paint. Agent James didn’t seem convinced that Tanks had been here, but Jake’s gut said different. He knew the escaped convict had offed Sawyer.
Silence reigned, and a few lightning bugs floated across the yard. Jake glanced back at Stan. “You know anything about the Catholic religion?” he asked.
Stan wrinkled his brow. “Not really. Why?”
Jake shrugged. “Nothing.”
Agent James, wearing a task-force jacket, walked out of the house. His gaze found Stan. “Sorry about what happened in there. Sometimes the kitchen isn’t big enough for two cooks.”
“Your cook is an ass,” Stan said.
“I just told him that myself,” James agreed. “Look, I’d like to work together, not fight over who’s in charge.”
“So you believe Tanks was behind this?” Jake asked.
Agent James nodded. “Never disbelieved it, but I wanted more than a circled phone number and a can of paint.”
“And you found it?” Stan asked.
The FBI man motioned them inside. As they entered, Mike Sawyer’s body exited. Agent James slipped on a pair of gloves, went to the answering machine, and hit a button.
“Hey,” a shrill voice said. “This is Ellie. Call me.”
James’s lips tightened. “I’m willing to bet there’s not another Ellie with that voice.”
“God, I hope not,” Stan said. “That hurt my ears.”
Agent James nodded. “We’ve gotten a trace on her home phone and are working on her cell.”
Jake remembered Ellie’s phone call to Macy. It didn’t make sense that Ellie would be calling Tanks…. “We’re missing something,” he said.
Agent James raised an eyebrow. “When you figure out what it is, you be sure to let me know.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Billy paced the trailer living room. Where was Ellie? It had been over an hour since he’d arrived, and she still wasn’t back.
Lights flashed across the blinds, and he bolted to the window. Ellie got out of Andy’s car before it drove off. Billy met her at the door. She ran to him. Furious, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Where the hell have you been?” When he heard her hiccupping breath, he regretted his tone. “I was worried.” He pulled back so he could look at her. “What happened?”
“Fred died.” Tears filled her eyes.
“Who?” Billy thought about the man with his throat slashed.
“My patient. Remember the one I told you sneaked into Mrs. Kelly’s room?”
Billy recalled Ellie talking about the two old lovebirds. “What happened?”
“A stroke.” She buried her face back in his chest.
“How did you find out?”
“Nancy, the other nurse’s aide, called me. She knew how close we were. He died an hour after I arrived.”
“Damn it, Ellie! I told you not to use your phone.”
She stiffened. “I just checked my messages. I used Andy’s phone to call”
“Don’t even check your messages. They could trace it.”
She walked over to the sofa and dropped down on it. “Don’t be mad. I’m hurting too much—”
“I’m not mad,” he interrupted. “I just…don’t want you getting into trouble.” He sat down beside her. She leaned against him. Her soft weight felt good.
“I feel so bad for Mrs. Kelly. They loved each other. She stayed with me by his bed and held his hand. She called him the love of her life and kept saying it was unfair that she had only met him in the last year. It was so sad.”
“I know,” he whispered into her hair, holding her. Neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t a bad silence. Just two people holding on to each other.
“I’m scared,” she finally said. “I think we should leave. Get in the van and just go.”
Billy shook his head. “I can’t. I’ve got to make sure Mace is okay.”
Ellie glanced up. “Did you call that cop like you said?”
“Yeah. But I don’t know if he’ll protect her. I’ve got to find Tanks.”
“But, how’s talking going to change things? I don’t see him promising you anything, and even if he did, that doesn’t mean he’ll keep his word.”
“I’ll make him understand,” Billy said. He didn’t want to talk about Tanks. Even exhausted, his body knew what it wanted. It wanted Ellie. “Where did Andy go, anyway?”
“He’s going to stay with a friend. I think…I think he thought we’d like to be alone.”
“Do we?” Billy asked.
She smiled and some of the worry left her eyes. “I do if you do.”
Billy’s gaze shifted around. Thanks to Ellie’s work, it didn’t seem like such a terrible place anymore. He felt her soft breasts against his arm and his body responded.
“I asked Andy why he was helping us. He said that he heard a preacher on television say that the next person you don’t offer to help, they might be Jesus.”
“He thinks I’m Jesus?” Billy laughed and then sighed as Ellie shifted to sit in his lap.
“No. But he said he needed to help others so he’d be a better person.”
“Why does he think he needs to be better?” Billy asked. But maybe he understood. Both Andy’s parents had left, and for years Billy had blamed himself for his dad leaving. Maybe Andy was trying to make up for whatever he believed he’d done wrong.
“I don’t know,” Ellie said. “But he’s a good kid. He wouldn’t even let me put gas in his car for taking me to the nursing home.”
Billy gazed into his girlfriend’s pale green eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he said. And the soft weight of her bottom against his crotch was delicious.
Her smile widened. “I love you, Billy. Just like Mrs. Kelly loved Fred. I’ll love you forever, and I’m glad I found you now instead of when we’re in an old-folks home.”
Billy’s gut clenched as he remembered that somehow, after he’d taken care of Tanks, he had to convince Ellie to stop loving him.
She leaned in and kissed him. Was it wrong of him to take tonight, when tomorrow…? Her tongue entered his mouth, and suddenly wrong and right didn’t seem so important. He kissed her the way he’d dreamed of doing it for five months. His hand shook a little as he slid his palm up under her light-blue T-shirt to cup her breast.
“You feel good,” he mumbled, rubbing his fingers over her bra, feeling her nipples harden. He didn’t have a lot of experience with women, but he knew enough to know that they liked to take this sort of thing slow. He’d go as slow as Ellie wanted.
“So do you.” She shifted her bottom against him, then grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it over her head.
Her bra was white with lots of lace. Her nipples pebbled against it. He ran his hand over one tight, satin-covered little bud, and then Ellie said words he’d been dying to hear.
“Love me, Billy. Help me forget what a crazy mess we’re in.”
At seven, Macy slapped her alarm silent. Sleep offered escape. She didn’t want to worry about Billy, about getting her head chopped off, about the guy stretched out on her sofa who thought she was entering the convent. You won’t even know I’m here, he’d said. As if.
Crappers! Turning over, she buried her face in her pillow and mumbled a few more unladylike words. She’d known he was there, all right. She’d lain in bed for over an hour, listening to hear Baldwin roll over, listening to see if he snored. She’d hoped he did. Big, ugly, honking snores. Anything to stop her from thinking about what it would be like to have his body next to hers.
For almost two years she’d gone without sex. Sure, every now and then her body would ask, Hey, remember orgasms? Her brain would answer, Yeah, I remember. But the last one I experienced wasn’t mine. It was my husband’s secretary’s. She still couldn’t believe she’d let them finish before interrupting. Then again, it hadn’t taken very long. Tom had never had staying power.
Generally, thinking about Tom and his secretary was enough to trot her hormones back to the ice age. Last night, her hormones had refused to take the hike.
Remembering she had to work in the church garden, she sat up. She hadn’t gotten her eyes all the way open when someone knocked on her bedroom door, and before she could say Go away, Baldwin walked into her bedroom carrying two steaming cups.
“Got you coffee,” he said.
She wanted to scold him for walking in, to refuse the caffeine fix, but it smelled as good as he looked. A frown twisted her lips.
“Somebody isn’t a morning person,” he said. He winked, then had the audacity to sit on the edge of her bed. “A little birdie told me you take it with cream and sugar.”
“What little birdie?” she asked. “Where is it? I’m pretty sure I still have Billy’s old BB gun and I could take it out.”
“You wouldn’t shoot your grandma, would you? She called.”
Jake handed over a coffee. The warm, scented steam rose. Macy curled her hands around the cup.
Jake drew his own cup to his lips, and his gaze, as steamy as the coffee, swept over her. “There goes my fantasy that you sleep in a red silk nightie.”
Macy tugged at the front of her cotton pajamas. “Would you mind getting out? I need to say my morning prayers. It’s what soon-to-be nuns do.” She didn’t think he’d have been so brave as to ask Nan about that.
The heat in his eyes faded. Which told her she was right. Now, if she could just do something about the heat in her belly. Why did he look so natural sitting on the edge of her bed? Oh yeah, she’d imagined him here last night. Imagined him crawling under the covers with her, without clothes, to touch places on her body that hadn’t been touched in—
“What are your plans today?” he asked. He sipped his coffee.
“I’m going to church,” she replied. Not a lie, either. The nun excuse wasn’t going to last long, of course—he was bound to wise up sooner or later. But she’d milk it as long as she could.
“And then what?”
Then I’ll find some other excuse to keep you at arm’s length.
“I usually go visit my mom and Nan at Yoga Works.” Seeing Baldwin’s pinched brow she explained, “Nan runs a yoga school.”
“Biker girl, spray-paint grandma? She does yoga, too?”
Macy shrugged. “Teaches it.” She wouldn’t tell him what else Nan did.
“You don’t go to school today?”
“Not on Thursdays.”
“Work?” His face wore an odd expression.
“Not until tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well, you should hold off going to work until Tanks is caught.” He arched an eyebrow as if knowing she’d challenge him.
She didn’t disappoint. “So, you’re paying my rent this month?” she asked. “That’s sweet of you.” She set her coffee down and laughed.
He frowned. “If it’ll keep you alive, yeah.”
Macy scootched off her mattress, shaking her head. “Actually, I can take care of myself.” She then headed for the bathroom, ignoring him as he called her name. She hoped this was one room he’d consider sacred.
Slamming the door behind her, she came to an instant, heels-on-the-linoleum halt. Her eyes alighted on the broad chest and then lowered to—She yelped at the same time as the naked man, and only then did she look up at his face. She scrambled out of the bathroom.
Baldwin stood in the hall. Seeing her horror, his blue eyes danced with humor.
“What’s your partner doing naked in my bathroom?” she shrieked.
Baldwin grinned. “I forgot to tell him the singing rule.”
Today Hal felt…not better, but clearheaded. He’d cut back on the pain medication, but thinking clearly came with a price. Now he really knew how it felt to be shot in the chest.
When the nurse popped in and announced it was time for a walk, he’d told her to go on without him, and if he changed his mind he would catch up. Obviously, she thought he was joking. Now, one hand around his IV stand, he shuffled through the gray hospital halls like an old man. At least his ass was covered, thanks to the pajamas Melissa had brought this morning.
Hal had just cut a corner when he heard a familiar voice from one of the hospital rooms with the door ajar. He listened. The volunteer? What was her name? Faye, wasn’t it?
“You’re welcome,” the woman was saying. “I’ll come by and see you later.”
Hal stopped walking, if you could call his shuffling a real walk. Was it her?
“You okay?” his nurse asked, looking harried.
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