Parker felt Nilson hesitate for a second when the alarm went off, but afterward, the agent’s grip on Parker’s hands tightened as they fought for control over the gun. Parker struggled to hold the pistol in the direction of Liv’s desk, fighting for breath and shaking from the effort. Nilson, taller than Parker, had locked his legs under each of Parker’s, and now he drew Parker’s legs further apart, grunting with the effort. Parker understood Nilson’s ramped-up intensity, caused by the squeal of the alarm. He won’t get caught; he’ll die before he’s arrested.
Run, Liv. Run! Parker wanted to scream the words again, but with Nilson’s elbow planted on his windpipe, Parker couldn’t pull in a breath, and sapped of energy, he couldn’t think straight. Even with his eyes wide open, he only saw flashes of light glittering in a gray fog. While he listened for Liv running out the door and down the steps, a whooshing like the sound a washing machine was all he heard. If I don’t roll him over on his back, and grab the gun from him right now, I’m going to pass out. A vision of his mother floated into his imagination, a stern, worried look on her face. I want to live! She nodded and smiled, while she held out a hand in the murk to someone else. Bern’s head came into view, the rest of her body except for the hand clasping his mother’s, a ghostly outline. She was furious, her expression rigid with rage. A jolt of adrenaline coursed through him. Liv is like Bern—my women don’t run; they fight to the end. Liv’s here. She’s ready.
Parker conjured strength pouring into his muscles, preparing him to heave Nilson to his back and take control over the gun. One, two….three! Parker pushed Nilson’s hands and the gun as high as he could.
“Blang!”
For a moment, Parker thought his own body had made the big sound, snapping to attention or cracking in half. But then, as Nilson’s hold on Parker’s neck loosened, he wasn’t so sure.
“Blam!” And this time he knew he’d heard the report of a gun. Nilson’s elbow fell off Parker’s throat, but when the weight of Nilson’s body collapsed over Parker’s, he still couldn’t get a breath. The image of Bern shaking her head like a ragdoll gradually disappeared as a curtain of darkness obscured everything.
****
“Ahh!” Parker relished the feel of his lungs filling with air and the deadly weight removed from his chest. He opened his eyes to see Liv’s face, her eyebrow up. Why did she look so funny, with red smeared all over her lips? Bizarre. But when he tried to ask the question, his throat refused to deliver the words to her.
He squinted, trying to focus. Was that blood on Liv’s face? Was Liv hurt? Maybe I’ve been shot. I’m bleeding.
The clown lips turned up. “Breathe,” she said. “Relax and breathe.”
Parker could hardly make out her words with the alarm blaring in the background. Alarm? He looked to his left to see open space under Liv’s bed. His glance to the right revealed Nilson’s still body, a bullet hole in his head and another in his neck. He mouthed “You?”
Liv nodded and gave a little shrug. “He would have killed you, Parker. When you raised his head for me, I took the shot. Shots.”
He lifted his hand to feel her lips, frowning.
“It’s blood. Nilson’s blood. You had it all over your face when I gave you mouth-to-mouth. You couldn’t get a breath, so I gave you some of mine.”
Briefly, a trick of light made Liv’s eyes into Bernadette’s, the rage and the worry gone, replaced by warmth and relief. The desk chair, overturned behind Nilson’s body reminded him of Liv’s quick thinking. She’s tough and smart, like Bern. Got to keep that kind of woman around.
He formed a needy expression and pointed to his lips. Liv laughed, “Are you sure?” she asked.
Parker heard clattering on the stairways and pulled in a big breath before he pointed to his lips again. He’d get one more kiss, then he’d have to rise and help Ivor find Tuck Barber.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Time to go to your apartment,” Ivor said, his tone officious. Harriet came in behind him, laid a hand on Ivor’s shoulder and said to Liv, “It’s best, honey.”
“I’m being kicked out of the family home?”
Harriet pointed in the direction of Liv’s apartment. “Four days to mend is enough. You’ve got your writing, the store, and the salmon oil to get back to.”
“Giving you and Chet more ‘alone’ time?” Liv accused.
“Exactly,” Harriet said, smiling.
Liv huffed, even though she was tickled about her mother’s new love. “You escorting me, Ivor?”
He led her out the door and walked with her down two blocks, into the store, and to the bottom of Liv’s apartment stairs. Ivor pointed to the top of the landing. “He takes over from here.”
Liv blinked. “Who?”
“Thanks, Ivor,” Parker said as he descended the stairs, took the suitcase from Ivor and tucked Liv’s hand under his elbow. “Up we go.”
Not to wobble was an effort. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Thought I’d surprise you, Livy. Got back from Fresno this morning after we closed the case. Oldshack gave me some time off.”
“Softening up in his old age?” she said, as they walked into the apartment. Liv noted that the door to her bedroom was closed. Good. She didn’t want to go in there. Maybe she’d sleep on the couch.
“Oldshack’s still in shock because Nilson went bad,” Parker said, heading to the kitchen to take a few cookies out of the freezer and lay them out on a small plate. As he burred coffee beans, he poured water into the coffee maker. “He’s on a morale boosting campaign in the department, though he’s terrible at it.”
Liv leaned against the counter and smiled at Parker’s ease in her kitchen. “Ivor said Newcastle offered you your old job back.”
“Proof he’s gone soft. I’m considering it.”
“More money. A job you’re familiar with.”
He grinned as he measured coffee into the filter and started up the machine. “I may like street work better.”
A balloon formed in her throat so she couldn’t speak. She shook off the hope and gazed out at Tuck’s apartment. “He’s in jail, thank God. I’m glad we found him alive on Raven’s Roost Trail. Death by exposure was too easy on him.”
“After he recovers from hypothermia, we’ll indict him for embezzlement and tax evasion. Nilson’s tapes, Tilly’s tox report, and your witness statements collar him, but there’s too little evidence to tack on Everett Olson’s drowning. What we have is enough.”
“And the money he stole from Ocean Riches comes back to the company?”
Parker nodded. “Eventually. Halley owes you, Liv. Now he’ll jump in on the salmon oil capsules with both feet. I’ll make sure.” He framed her face with his hands. “You’re healing. Back to beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She shifted under his touch, her mind on the bedroom.
He kissed her forehead and released her. “I wish I’d been here to help, Livy. I’m glad you moved in with your mom for awhile.”
She glanced at the closed door. “I couldn’t work or sleep in that room after what happened.”
“Let’s go, honey.” He took her hand. “Let’s open the door to our bedroom.”
“Our?”
“I’m off duty, Liv. The case is closed. Remember what comes next?”
Her hand went to her throat, imagining the amber beads draped there, the ones she’d worn when he’d made the pledge to her. Instead she felt cold metal, a gold necklace she’d worn on the day after she shot Nilson, and hadn’t taken off since. She sighed. The loss of her favorite stones at Sandy Beach left a hole in her heart. Nilson had twisted them off her neck and stolen a wealth of good memories from her, too.
Parker rubbed her back as he opened the bedroom door.
“What in the world!” Liv held her hand to her mouth, not believing what she saw. Where her desk had been, overlooking Tuck’s apartment, sat her bed, covered with a brilliant white comforter and matching pillow shams. A new rug replaced the old one, Nilson’
s blood spatter gone forever. Her desk looked out on Nordic way, a high-backed, brand new desk chair inviting her to sit down and write. The latest column of her Sing Lee series lay open on the desk.
“This is amazing! Who? When?”
“Your mother. Ivor helped. Jenny offered suggestions and Candy assisted with painting the walls. I made sure the funds were provided from my department, because we had to carry away so much stuff for evidence and we felt obligated to clean up the crime scene.”
“It’s a whole new look. A new bedroom.” With a hand on the newspaper, she sat down and squirmed to the right and left, testing out her new chair. Nodding in satisfaction she said, “I’ve tried not to think about Gus. And Jenny. But in the same way you’re making me face the bedroom, I have to decide what to do about them.”
“Jenny’s done her time, Liv.”
She held up her hand. “I’ve already told Jenny she’s paid plenty for her sins. She’s allowed to kick up her heels now that she’s let go of her secret. Her response was: “My heels won’t be doing any kicking, but I’m happy the truth is out.”
Parker chuckled. “What about Gus?”
“I’ll do one more column. I don’t know if Gus will leave Petersburg forever or stay. I have to decide.”
“As one who’s learned about happy ever after’s, why not give Gus something special down the road?”
“You mean give him to Greta?”
“Why not? To make it more real, have him connect up with Greta after she divorces Tor. Give them a chance at love, like we’ve been given.”
“Gus would like that. So would Greta.”
Parker put his hands on her shoulders, then gestured for her to stand. “Since we’ve tied up that loose end, let’s take a look at your brain, Livy.”
“Hmm? My brain?”
“Come on. You’ve been too many days away from your place of comfort.” He led her to the closet door and lifted her hand to the security pad. “Dial in, baby.”
She did so, without enthusiasm.
Gently, he pushed her into the room and turned on the lights. “Check out your files. Make sure everything is just so.”
She knew what was amiss, but she didn’t want to complain, so she opened each lateral drawer where her jewelry hung in perfect order. She dreaded revealing the last shelf, but Parker had made her open the bedroom door and she damn well needed to be brave enough to confront the empty place where her amber stones used to be.
Eyes pinched shut, she pulled out the last drawer out and slowly opened her eyes. The stones glittered back at her, hung in their rightful place.
“Parker!”
He smiled. “The shine of your stones caught our attention at the Sandy Beach shelter, proving you’d been there. Once we were sure you were safe, I drove back in the police car to gather as many parts of the necklace I could find.”
“I searched for them, too,” Liv said. “When Nilson twisted my necklace and broke the string, I could hear them shooting everywhere, but I was baffled when I couldn’t find a single stone even though I crawled all over those grounds in daylight. I figured the big crows took them since they like shiny things.”
He smiled. “I’m your big crow. I decided you’d feel worse if I handed you the paltry pile of stones, so I took them back to Fresno to have them strung. The hard part was finding matching stones to fill in for the missing ones.” Removing the necklace from its hanger, Parker clasped it around Liv’s neck. “What do think? About the right length?”
Tears filled her eyes. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. You can’t believe the feeling of completeness in my soul right now.” She stroked the jewelry and sighed. “I wish this stuff wasn’t so important to me.”
He led her to the love seat and sat down with her, taking her hand with his to rest on the necklace. “I may not remember everything, like you do, Livy, but the important stuff is grooved into my memory. On November 23th, a rainy night in Petersburg, Alaska, I touched these stones and said, “Your skill was born with amber; you and I will begin with the same stone.”
Another balloon rose in her throat so she couldn’t speak, but she leaned over to touch her forehead with his, tears falling on her lap.
“I’ll have you know that when I came over here to hang this necklace, I touched every piece of your jewelry.”
She drew away, wiped the tears and looked in his eyes, warmed by his proud smile. “Some form of marking, hmm?”
With a chuckle, he said, “I guess you could call it that. My take on it is a little more romantic.” He kissed her cheek. “I was kind of letting each set know I’d be around when you wore them.”
Liv laughed. “You got into my calendar, you mean? You’ve inserted yourself into every day of my life?”
His answer was to gather her into his arms, pull her to his lap and hold her tight, so tight, she let out a gasp.
“Sorry,” he said softly in her ear. “I don’t want to lose you, Livy. But I’ve learned that the more excruciating pain comes with not being able to love you.”
She hugged him and surveyed her little sanctuary, which now comfortably held Parker, a man who accepted her quirky way of ordering the world.
Parker adjusted himself in the loveseat and Liv gasped at the feel of his arousal. He smiled and said, “You’re the one who brought up marking. Maybe we should consider one more imprinting exercise for this room.”
A ping of electricity warmed her. “So everything I wear reminds me of you.”
His eyebrow winged up. “Which means when you buy something new, we’ll be back.”
“Gives a new kick to shopping.”
Parker laughed with her, embraced her and kissed her deeply.
After Liv shrugged off her sweater and bra and he’d removed his shirt, she hesitated at the clasp of her necklace.
“What?” Parker asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Absolutely not. In fact,” she lifted her necklace, “I’m feeling a pleasant sizzle here.”
“Ah, approval.” He touched the necklace and trailed his finger to her breast. “You can leave them on, Liv. For me, you’ll always come with jewelry; I won’t complain.”
Liv sighed, soothed by the synchrony of date, place, jewelry, and her man. “We’ll love you forever, Parker.”
A word about the author...
Scandinavian, Army brat, English teacher, high school principal, golfer, boater, world traveler, author. With her experiences, Rolynn Anderson fairly bursts with stories about extraordinary people and amazing settings, real and contrived.
Now add her competitive nature and her love of “the makeover.” As a principal, she and the staff she hired opened a cutting-edge high school; as co-captain with her husband on Intrepid, she cruises from Washington State to Alaska and back. As a writer, she delights in creating imperfect characters faced with extraordinary, transforming challenges.
Her hope: You’ll devour her “makeover” suspense novels into the wee hours of the morning because her stories, settings, and characters capture your imagination and your heart.
She’d love to hear from you at:
http://www.rolynnanderson.com
Lie Catchers Page 26