Cadie looked down at the dark-haired woman. Jo was deeply asleep, her face half-buried in Cadie's shirt, her arms loosely wrapped around the black cat, who gazed up at the blonde with sleepy, golden eyes. She swallowed as another wave of protectiveness washed over her, and she looked back up at the detective.
"I'm sorry," he said, his hands restlessly searching for his cigarettes in his inside jacket pocket. "But it's got to be done. Better we sort this out now with one conversation than have to keep revisiting it." He tapped a cigarette out of the damp, crumpled packet. "Tell you what. I'll go out and smoke this while you wake her up, yeah?"
"Okay," Cadie said quietly. She waited until Harding was out on the verandah before she looked down at Jo again, taking in the dark woman's angular features.
She looks so young. Cadie stroked Jo's hair. It's a shame to wake her. Gently she shook Jo's shoulder, careful to avoid the wound on her upper arm, which thankfully seemed to have stopped bleeding. Need to get her cleaned up. The blonde continued to coax Jo awake with as little drama as possible.
The tall woman stirred slowly, disturbing the cat that stood, stretched, and leaped off the couch in search of food.
"Jo-Jo," Cadie said softly, shaking her shoulder again. "Come on, hon. Wake up."
Jo's response was to make soft, objecting noises as she burrowed even further into Cadie's shirtfront. Cadie's heart melted. Even covered in mud and blood. Even after the day she's had. She still gets to me.
One more shake and Jo's eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily for a few seconds as she tried to figure out where she was and what smelled so good. And what felt so soft and warm against her face.
"Hello there," a voice said. Jo rolled blue eyes upwards to meet the sea-green ones smiling down at her.
"Um, hi," Jo replied. She sat up carefully, pulling away from Cadie, feeling embarrassed about falling asleep on the blonde. Not to mention... "Uh, sorry about that," she said awkwardly, unable to meet Cadie's eyes as she swung around and dropped her feet to the floor. She winced as every muscle and joint in her body protested.
"There's no need to apologize, Jo," Cadie said gently. "You were in shock, and exhausted. And I offered. It's not like you bushwhacked me."
"Bushwhacked?" Jo couldn't help smiling, though she still didn't turn to look at the blonde. "You've been listening to Paul too much." She groaned as she tried to stand up, eventually falling back onto the couch. "God, I hurt."
Cadie nodded. "And you're probably going to need some stitches in that arm."
Jo looked down and gingerly lifted the bloodied sleeve of her shirt. An angry, deep graze sliced across her upper arm. It was crusted over and she poked it experimentally. "Lucky," she grunted. "Bullet just brushed me. Another half inch and that would've been really nasty. No stitches though. Can you help me clean it up later?" For the first time she glanced up at Cadie. "That is... if you..."She stumbled for words.
Cadie leaned forward and placed a hand on her thigh. "We have a lot to talk about." She watched as Jo visibly swallowed and nodded silently, avoiding eye contact. "Yes, of course I'll help you clean it up. And anything else you need help with, too." Cadie patted her leg again. "And now Detective Harding wants to talk with you before he leaves." She nodded towards the verandah where the big detective was lounging against the rail, cigarette smoke curling around him as he watched them.
Jo leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. She focused on a spot about three feet ahead rather than face Cadie's open gaze. "I guess he told you everything, huh?" she asked quietly, hating the fact that circumstances had taken away the chance to tell Cadie about herself.
Cadie watched her sympathetically. "He told me the bare bones, Jo," she replied. "That you were involved in some criminal activity for a while. But he also told me that because of you a lot of bad people are in jail today." She reached forward to touch Jo's leg again, but saw the tall woman flinch away from the contact. She's scared to death, Cadie realized, a light coming on in her brain. She thinks I'm going to walk away from her because of this.
Just as she had two hours earlier, Cadie reached out and gently drew Jo's face around with her fingertips. "Listen to me." Wide blue eyes stared back at her, uncertainly. "I want to hear all about it. From you. I'm not interested in Detective Harding's perspective. I want to know what it was like for you. Please?" Jo nodded slowly, and Cadie slid her hand around to cup the tall woman's cheek. She felt Jo lean into the touch slightly. "And I'm not going anywhere, okay?" she said with a smile. "So just relax."
Tentatively Jo smiled back and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. I can't believe she's seen what she's seen today and hasn't run a mile. Jo watched Cadie get up and go to the verandah door to speak with Harding. Either she's in shock and the reality of the day hasn't hit her yet or... Jo swallowed hard. Or, you idiot, she just might care enough about you not to care about your past.
Jo shook her head disbelievingly.
But my past was very much here in the present today. That's got to be scary for her. Doesn't it? She watched as Harding tossed his cigarette butt over the verandah and followed Cadie back inside. Good thing we've had some rain, Jo thought absently.
"I'm going to explore your kitchen and rustle up some coffee," the American said, gesturing to the kitchen area at the other end of the living space. "Okay?"
Jo nodded quickly an Harding sat down opposite her. "That would be great, Cadie. Thanks." They exchanged smiles before Cadie walked off, and Jo sat back in the couch and fixed her gaze on the big policeman.
Harding looked out of place on the soft leather chair. His cheap suit was drying in wrinkles and he patted at his shiny forehead with a graying, tattered handkerchief. He looked hot and tired, perched on the-edge of the chair like a middle-aged Buddha on a bed of nails.
Uncomfortable, Jo thought with a smile. "So," she said, breaking the silence.
"So," replied Harding.
"How's Josh?"
Harding nodded slowly. "Yeah, he's not too bad," he answered. "Cuts and bruises. A bit freaked out. We talked to him and he's agreed to go with the home invasion angle when it comes to telling his parents what happened. I don't think it'll do anyone, least of all you, much good to tell them any more than that, do you?"
Jo winced. Josh's parents were good people. She hated being less than honest with them about what had happened to their son. "Not too many burglars come in gangs of three, carrying semiautomatic weapons, mate," she said to the policeman.
He nodded again. "I know but what's the alternative? Tell them their son's been cat-sitting for an ex-assassin with underworld connections?" He shook his head. "Keep it simple, Madison. The kid's agreed so go with it."
Jo sighed. Like she had any choice. "Did he need hospitalization?"
"Nope. The paramedics patched him up and we took him home. Gave him the name and number of a head-shrinker type in case it jumps up and bites him in the arse later on."
Jo nodded. Standard procedure. "I owe him and his parents an apology at the very least," she said quietly, guilt washing over her in a sickening wave. "I'll give them a call in a couple of hours, when things have settled a bit." She rubbed her hands over her face tiredly. "Do we know yet how they got past the security system?"
Harding snorted quietly. "They knocked," he said. "Told the kid they were cops and he let 'em in. Next thing he knew he was tied up and getting familiar with the point of Marco's boot."
"Jesus," Jo exhaled. "I should've known. Been more careful. Not left the kid on his own like that. God damn it."
Harding looked at the tall woman. She's changed. Time was it wouldn't have bothered her a damn. Now she looks like she's gonna beat herself to death with it.
"Let it go, Madison," he growled. "It's been five years for Chrissakes. Fair enough to think you were beyond all this shit. You weren't to know Marco was just biding his time."
She looked up sharply at the detective.
"Yeah I should've, Harding
. Of all the people in the world, I should have known exactly that. Marco's always been a psychotic prick with a long memory." She slumped back in the seat. "I got complacent. Forgot who I was."
Cadie listened quietly from where she stood in the kitchen, fixing three cups of coffee. It worried her to hear Jo beating up on herself for what had happened. Absentmindedly, she stirred a teaspoon of sugar into Jo's coffee, then wondered briefly if Harding wanted sugar. She glanced over at the big man and smiled as she tipped three teaspoons of the sweet stuff in and stirred. Carefully she picked up the mugs in both hands and wandered back to the sofa.
"That one's yours," she muttered, offering Jo the nearest cup to her. Then she turned to Harding and waited for him to take his before she straightened up again. "I'm going to go sit on the verandah," she said, starting to move in that direction. She was stopped by Jo's hand sliding into hers.
"Stay?" Jo asked quietly, looking up at her with irresistible blue eyes. "There isn't anything I don't want you to hear, or ask about. Please?"
"Okay," Cadie replied softly, following the tug of Jo's hand and sitting down next to her. She sat back and gently placed her hand against the tall skipper's lower back, rubbing in small, light circles.
God that feels good, thought Jo gratefully. How does she know just what I need? She looked back over her shoulder and smiled at the blonde, saying thank you with her eyes before she turned back to the detective, who was watching the exchange bemusedly.
"So," Jo said again. "Just how much trouble am I in?"
Harding shook his head. "None." She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Seriously," he said, reassuring her. "There's nothing I've seen here today that doesn't scream self-defense, Madison, and that's what the paperwork will reflect."
"You've got to be kidding," she said, incredulous. "I killed a guy, Harding. And I..." She swallowed. "And I would have killed another one if... if Cadie hadn't..." She felt Cadie's hand press against her back comfortingly.
"For a start," Harding replied, "there were almost as many of my bullets in that moron as there were of yours. He came in here spraying bullets. It was a good shoot. Forget about it." He took a sip of his coffee, sighing happily at its sweet richness. "Nice cup of coffee, miss, thanks." Cadie smiled at him and he turned back to Jo. "As for Marco, I frankly don't give a shit what you would have done. He came in here intent on hurting you, at the very least, and you defended yourself. That's what I saw. End of story."
"Actually, he was making me a job offer," Jo replied quietly.
"You're kidding?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Offered me my old job, plus the added incentive of being his whore." She ran a hand through her hair, still very aware of the warmth from Cadie's fingers as they circled gently in the small of her back.
Harding snorted in derision. "What a dumb shit." He laughed and looked around at their luxurious surroundings and the panoramic view across the Whitsunday Passage and the islands. "Like you're gonna give up all this to go back to that life."
"Mmm," she replied noncommittally. "I wouldn't have gone back with him if I were living in a cardboard box off Oxford Street. He just pissed me off and then I lost my temper." She wasn't very proud of that, she realized. And she was scared by it as well. Frightening to know how little it took to make me go back to that kind of violence.
Harding broke into her reverie as he noisily drained his by-now lukewarm cup of coffee. "Well, I'm going to head off," he said, putting the mug down on the small table next to his chair. "Got some paperwork to do."
"You right for a lift, Ken?" Jo asked, standing up with him. He did a double-take at her use of his first name.
There's a first, he thought. "Yeah, no worries, thanks," he replied. "Got a car waiting for me outside. Listen, swing by the Airlie Beach cop shop in the morning, eh? We'll take a statement and get this all squared away."
"Will I have to testify?" she asked.
"Probably. But not for a while. He's going to be in prison hospital for a bit yet." He grinned lopsidedly at her. "Plus we've gotta do the whole extradition thing back to Sydney, and all that. So don't hold your breath for it. See you in the morning, eh?" He put his hat back on his head, and started for the door.
Jo followed him. "Harding, how did you get up here so quickly anyway?" she asked.
"I was already here," he answered. "Came up on a hunch."
Jo was speechless, impressed he had remembered her at all, let alone been concerned enough to follow a hunch over five years after their last meeting. "Well... Jesus. Thanks, Harding," she said, offering her hand to the man.
He took it, shaking it slowly. "No thanks needed," he replied gruffly. "Besides it was your little mate over there who found me and got me here. Until I ran into her I was wandering around with my head stuck up my arse trying to figure out where to find you. She's a determined little bugger. Wasn't gonna let me keep her out of the action either."
She grinned at him and turned back to Cadie where she had stayed quietly on the couch, flashing the blonde a brilliant smile. Cadie returned it in kind, feeling the blush slowly creep up her neck. "It was blind luck, honestly," she said. "Lucky timing for us all."
"Well, whatever it was, I'm glad you found me. See you tomorrow, ladies," Harding said, tipping his hat and walking out the door. Jo closed it carefully behind him, checking the lock on the rough new door and resetting the security system. She turned and walked back into the living area, suddenly feeling unsure.
Cadie watched Jo stand uncertainly in the middle of the room, gazing out at the view of the Passage. The ocean and islands were slowly turning shades of orange as the sun began to set. The glow made Jo seem golden as she stood there.
She looks like a goddess, Cadie thought, not for the first time. A dirty, bloodied, lost, scared goddess. The blonde stood and walked over to Jo, taking her hands in hers and looking up at her. Jo looked down and half-smiled.
"Why don't you go get cleaned up, put some fresh clothes on?" Cadie suggested. "It'll make you feel better."
"Good idea," Jo replied. "Hey, do you still have the cell phone? I'm amazed we haven't heard from the Seawolf."
Cadie looked up at her sheepishly as she unhooked the cell phone from her belt and handed it back to its owner. "Well actually there's a very good reason for that," she said apologetically. "I switched it off."
They held each other's gaze for a few seconds.
"You're worried about Naomi's reaction to us being away together?"
Cadie nodded. "Oh yeah. And if we're going to be away all night she's going to go ballistic," she replied quietly, dreading her next conversation with her bad-tempered partner.
Jo thought hard. "Well, I can try and get you back to the boat tonight," she said, chewing her bottom lip as she tried to figure out how. "But the water taxis stop running in," she glanced down at her watch, "half an hour ago. And the only other way back is Bill's helicopter." She paused. "Hey. Where is Bill, anyway?"
Cadie started pulling Jo towards the bathroom. "He offered to go with Josh when they took him home," she said. "He said he would come back first thing in the morning to hold the fort here for as long as you need him to."
Jo followed her, stopping only at the linen cupboard to pull out a couple of fresh bath towels. "He's a good man," she said. "So...he can't get you back tonight." She bit her lip again as they entered her spacious main bathroom.
Cadie dropped the lid of the toilet and sat down as she watched the tall woman moving around, getting ready for her shower.
"Cadie, I don't think I can get you back there tonight," Jo said worriedly.
"It's okay," she replied. "We just need to get our story straight." She grinned wryly at Jo. "Somehow I don't think telling her the truth is going to make her any calmer."
Jo raised an eyebrow and grimaced a little at the thought. "Nope, I don't suppose it will. She hates my guts now, so telling her I'm a former assassin isn't going to improve my reputation with her." She stopped still when she realized Cadie probably
hadn't heard the truth so baldly expressed before. She looked up and met a steady green gaze.
Cadie smiled gently back at her. "The important word in that sentence was 'former,'" the blonde said quietly. "I'm not afraid of your past, Jo. So stop worrying that I'm going to run from the truth. 'Cos I'm not going to."
Jo shrugged. "Why not?" She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and leaned down, untying her bootlaces and pulling the heavy boots and socks off. "I have killed people," she said bluntly. "I killed someone today, and would have done it again if you hadn't stopped me. Why wouldn't you run a mile from that? From me?" She threw the dirty socks over to the laundry hamper in the corner of the room with just a touch of venom.
"Because I know you," Cadie said calmly. Jo looked at her quizzically and the blonde raised a hand to stop the skipper's protest. "I know, I know. I've known you, what? Nine days?" She stood and moved over to help Jo when she realized the tall woman was having trouble lifting her injured arm above shoulder height. "Hang on a minute, let me help here." She pulled Jo's shirt up. "Bend over a little and hold your arms out for me," she said. Jo complied and Cadie slowly slid the shirt off her, mindful of the nasty graze on her upper arm. She turned and tossed the soiled shirt over to the hamper. "Damn, Jo," she said quietly when she turned back to her. "You're a walking bruise."
Jo had stood and was looking back over her own shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. "You should see my back," she muttered.
Cadie walked around Jo and hissed involuntarily at the sight of the left side of the skipper's back, which was a purpling mass of bruising. "What hit you?" she asked.
"A tree," Jo said shortly. "When you guys were lowering me down and the chopper got caught by a wind gust."
"Damn. We ought to get you to a doctor, Jo. Your ribs have got to be badly bruised at the very least." Gingerly Cadie allowed her fingertips to roam over the discolored area, feeling the heat beneath Jo's skin.
Heart's Passage Page 19