A Marked Man

by Stella Cameron

  When he felt it was safe, he called Spike and asked him to have an officer check on Wazoo at Hungry Eyes. He kept the explanation short, but did mention Wazoo’s pistol.

  He could leave the square without being seen from the café. That was the easy part. Finding and entering the alley from the blind side wasn’t so easy. When he did reach a spot where he could see the backs of Hungry Eyes, the Gables’ house and Joe’s offices on the other side of the alley, a tall brick wall confronted him and he figured out that it enclosed a stonemasons’ yard between him and the back entrance he needed to reach.

  At least there shouldn’t be anyone on the masons’ premises. He hoped.

  After backing off to get a run at the wall, Max sprinted and leaped to grip the coping on top. He thought he might fall back but his sneakers found purchase on the bricks and he crawled up until he could sit on the wall. In the murky area on the other side, he made out close-packed stacks of stone slabs.

  He couldn’t get it out of his head that Bobby might decide to go after Annie.

  Peering into the darkness, Max let himself down on the other side of the wall and found his way across the crowded lot to another wall on the other side.

  Once again he squared off, jumped and hunkered down on top. Bingo. Hungry Eyes stood to his left with the section that contained two apartments on the upper floor, one Annie’s, the other empty, stretching back at a right-angle.

  A small guesthouse, tucked into the corner of the rambling garden, looked empty and the Gables’ house was also in darkness.

  He heard a door fly open behind him. Over his shoulder, at one end of the workshop, he saw a rectangle of light at the end of the masons’ building with the dark shadow of someone standing there, peering around the stonemasons’ yard. He should have considered the possibility of a guard in the building.

  Max slowly flattened his body on the wall.

  His heart thundered.

  He didn’t need to be apprehended while climbing into Annie’s backyard at night.

  “There ain’t no way out,” a gruff voice called and the man in the doorway stepped into the yard. “Put your hands up and walk into the light.” The figure raised a weapon and Max rolled his eyes. Obviously the man had heard movement outside but he hadn’t seen Max, or anyone else. If an intruder were armed and desperate he would have a clear shot at the guard.

  Slithering as quietly as he could, Max dropped onto soft earth on the other side of the wall and ran swiftly, hunched over, beside a wooden fence that closed the garden off from the alley. He didn’t have to go farther than the gate for the information he needed. Through a gap in the slats he could see a dull shine on the hood of Annie’s Volvo.

  Before he could change his mind, Max went to the door below a single illuminated window in the upstairs apartments and knocked lightly. She’d never hear that. He rang the bell and winced at its grating buzz.

  This time he waited, staring at his feet, one hand braced against the door. He strained for any sound from inside but there was nothing—until a cat meowed. Max smiled to himself. Even if Annie wouldn’t come down for him, she still might feel she wanted to get the cat.

  Don’t say good night, Irene. Don’t you run up those stairs.

  If Annie did come for the cat, surely she wouldn’t ignore Max at the door. He had to be clearly visible through amber glass panes in the top half.

  Ten minutes later he gave up on Irene saving him and rang the bell once more. He’d allowed for all of this and sworn he wouldn’t leave until he saw Annie. He pressed his right forefinger into the bell and leaned on it, continued leaning on it. Please don’t let Wazoo hear him and come out of the shop.

  Max raised his chin, and saw the distorted silhouette of someone coming down the stairs. Very, very slowly down. The identity was obvious.

  Annie came to stand on the other side of the door.

  Ringing or knocking again would send her back upstairs and he’d never get in. Quietly, he waited.

  At last she moved, took off the deadbolt, unlocked the door and opened it a few inches. The chain was still on and she peered out at him through a narrow space.

  “Did Wazoo tell you to come around here?” she said.

  “No.”

  “No,” Annie repeated. “I didn’t think so, but if she had it would only be because she was tryin’ to help me.”

  “She’s a nice woman. Funny sometimes.”

  “Having premonitions doesn’t make you funny,” Annie said. She scooped up the cat and it flopped over her shoulder with its back legs hanging straight down.

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Yes, you did.”

  He hadn’t noticed a tendency for her to jump to conclusions before this. When someone insisted they were right, about something pretty stupid, and they wouldn’t listen to reason, Max got overheated. “She’s funny,” he repeated. “People laugh at some of what she says and does. I think she likes it.” And he was the one overreacting.

  “She’s a natural comedian,” Annie said, “but she does like it when she makes people laugh.”

  Max didn’t want to invite himself in.

  “You’ve had a rotten day,” he said. “Too much has happened to be good for you.”

  “I don’t think having a friend go missin’ can be easy to cope with, either,” she said. Annie raised her head. “Today’s been bad for both of us. Would you like to come in for a bit?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  Why had the man in the café tried to smear her reputation? Why had he turned up after so long?

  Someone needed to find out what was eating him, and shut him up—permanently.

  Annie closed the door and took off the chain, then let him in. “I have tea and coffee. And I’ve got some bottles of good wine if that’s what you’d like. Take your pick.”

  Making faces at her bad-tempered cat, he walked upstairs behind her and she showed him into an L-shaped living room overlooking the square. “This is really nice,” he said. The cat peered around to get another look at him. Her green-gold eyes crossed and she showed all of her teeth in a silent hiss.

  Max wriggled his nose and looked around. The place looked new, as in brand-new.

  “Ellie and Joe renovated the whole upstairs. They had what was the kitchen turned into a dining room. The kitchen—” she pointed right “—is where the master bedroom used to be, and they pushed through to the second apartment to make a really big bedroom, a second bedroom and a little office.”

  “So they got rid of the second apartment completely? You’ve probably got the biggest digs in town.” However, all that stood in the living room was a white couch that looked untouched, and a red lacquer chest placed in front as a coffee table. A white carpet showed shoe impressions from the front door to the kitchen and bedrooms. They bypassed the rest of the living room, and the empty dining room.

  “Are you looking for a bathroom?” Annie said.

  Way to go, Savage, gape around her home like you’re taking inventory. “No, thanks. You’ve got wonderful spaces to…”

  “Work with?” she said, filling in the words he’d managed not to say. Her smile would turn on lights—and other things. He ought to know. “I haven’t gotten around to furnishing the place. After all, I’ve only been here seven months. Gimme time.”

  He nodded, returning her smile. “Take all the time you want. These things can’t be rushed.” These polite conversations made him nervous because they meant the people involved were avoiding what they really wanted to say.

  Annie crossed her arms. Except for her breasts, she was fairly small but he liked what folded arms did for them. And he liked the way her white blouse fitted without a wrinkle, and her jeans didn’t have to cover many straight lines.

  Annie didn’t move a muscle. This wasn’t the first time a man had sized her up, but it was the first time Annie had been as aware of each spot where his attention landed.

  Max didn’t behave like this. Or he hadn’t b
efore. Annie was used to his intense eyes and quiet way of considering what he wanted to say—and his open smile. They had kissed and hugged on parting, nothing more. They had never shared a sexually loaded moment like this and he had never tried for more intimacy.

  He was too sensitive to push for sex when he had to suspect she was upset.

  But it was on his mind. She could feel that, see that.

  Rather than the heat Annie expected, she turned cold, so cold she couldn’t feel her fingers, and the prickling that flooded into sensitive places was almost a wash of delicate pain.

  Almost a climax. Standing there, watching him watching her, Annie’s legs ached. The cold, dumbfounding stimulation pulsed and she longed to kneel. She wanted to tear off her clothes and pose before him until he dragged her down to him, stripping as he did so.

  “You work too hard.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. When he looked at her face, his eyes were shadowy yet vulnerable. Guilty?

  Annie drew in a great breath, the one she’d forgotten to take, and Max’s gaze moved rapidly downward—and back. She saw him swallow hard.

  “I’ve never had my own place before,” said Annie. “In Pointe Judah I lived with my cousin, Eileen, and her son.”

  “But you lived in St. Martinville before that?”

  She struggled to calm down. If she opened a window there would be more air in the room, and she’d break this invisible field they had formed between them. Max wouldn’t be feeling what she did, Annie reminded herself. Or would he? Something was making his body react.

  “I didn’t tell you I lived there, did I?” she said.

  “Maybe you did.” He narrowed his eyes. “But it could be I got the impression you had when we were there today. When we drove in. It doesn’t matter.”

  But it did matter. “I grew up in St. Martinville.”

  “You don’t like it now?”

  “You’re only guessin’.” She had to avoid talking about details from the past. “You’re right though, I hate it now.” Not a word would she say about Bobby Colbert. She shuddered just thinking his name.

  “Are you okay?” Max asked.

  Annie nodded. Opening the window would be impossible. She couldn’t make her legs move, didn’t want to. And she didn’t want the desire that made her breasts heavy, her erogenous places ache, to slip away.

  Another shudder, this one convulsive, embarrassed her. She closed her eyes and imagined his light touch passing over her skin, and slipping inside her where he flitted over raw nerves. Again, a climax came so close that she put a hand over her mouth to stifle a moan and hardly dared to look at him again. He was involved with his own thoughts.

  Max ran the fingers of his right hand through his black hair and it sprang up in spikes. “If I have wine, will you join me?”

  That was the moment when the reluctant heat broke free and rushed to her face. She touched her cheeks and laughed. “Cold, white wine?” she said.

  “I’ll get it,” he told her and went into the kitchen. White maple, black granite and stainless steel confronted him. It seemed almost as unused as the living room.

  Steadying himself with one hand on the refrigerator door and the other on a counter nearby, he stiffened that elbow and stole a moment to recover. The animal every man hid, some larger, more dangerous animals than others, had just put in a real inconvenient appearance. He opened the refrigerator and stared inside. Max had confronted his animal on numerous previous occasions but during the sexual hiatus while he worked to make a new life, the beast had apparently been on steroids.

  He found a good bottle of Pinot Grigio, took it out and tried to decide where he’d be if he were a corkscrew.

  Max shook his head.

  “The bottle opener’s in this drawer,” Annie said, coming up behind him and reaching around to display a drawer where the only utensil was the corkscrew. She opened a cupboard empty but for a few glasses, some of them wine. Max took out two and uncorked the wine. He poured a little, stuck his nose in the glass and grinned. “Smooth, opinionated—brash even. A hint of white baking chocolate and squash casserole. Memorable.”

  Her giggle and the poke in the ribs she gave him didn’t cool the tension any more than his silly assessment of the wine had. “Here you go.” The first glass he poured he gave to Annie, then he took his own.

  She walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll show you the rest of the place, if you like. But maybe we should drink some of this first.”

  Following her, Max paused to look toward the square. “Are they going to have the holiday lights on for the rest of the year now?” he said.

  “I don’t know. This is my first year here.” She came to his side. “It’s silly, but I love those lights. They’ve just forgotten to reset the timer after the fair, or whatever it was.”

  “I’ve always enjoyed lights, the more the better,” Max said. “Every Christmas my parents’ home looks like Aladdin’s cave. I always look forward to seeing it. Roche likes all the glitter, too, but Kelly’s the tasteful one. He’d bring in a designer if Mom would put up with it.”

  They were making conversation again. Tipping up his glass, Max took a long, cold swallow of wine. Could be that alcohol was a bad idea while he wasn’t exactly in control of all systems.

  Annie took hold of his forearm and turned him toward her. “You’re a lot taller than me.”

  “I do like my women to be observant.” She isn’t my woman. Dumb remark.

  “Be nice. And kneel down. You should be able to rest your arms on the windowsill and have a place for your glass, too.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I’m going to and I’m inviting you to join me—because you like holiday bling.”

  Barefoot and fleet, she went around the room switching off lights. With the last one, she paused. “You aren’t afraid of the dark?”

  Not until now. “I can handle it.”

  She plunged the room into darkness and returned to him. In the glow from outside, her blouse turned brilliant, translucent white. When she knelt beside him only her face and neck cleared the sill.

  Silent, they stared into the skeins of tiny colored lights swaying and bobbing in the trees. Annie sighed and he glanced at her. “Makes me nostalgic,” she said. “Not that we ever did much decorating, but I think I’m nostalgic for the feelings I got in the holidays. All we need now is snow.”

  He laughed. “Dream on. But I know what you mean about nostalgia.”

  She didn’t reply, but she took several sips of wine.

  “Are you all right like that?” he asked. “Or is your back killing you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Cautiously, he put an arm around her waist. “I’ll hold you up,” he said. “And don’t argue.”

  Had anyone ever held her that way? With a warm, strong arm that made her feel…different?

  For a long time they didn’t speak. A wind picked up and the lights danced. And she was dancing, Annie thought—with danger. Bobby’s angry face kept shoving itself into her mind. They’d met once since she left St. Martinville and that had been earlier today. Now he’d decided he was driven to force a new friendship. Funny to think about now, but they had been close friends once.

  Max’s fingers spread at her waist and she almost arched her back.

  “I came for one reason,” he said. “But I think I should tell you something else first in case you’d rather not be around me when I’m finished.”

  “You couldn’t say anythin’ that would affect me like that.” But she was foolish to pursue what was happening between them. It couldn’t come to anything.

  Max didn’t expect her to remain so understanding. “I’ve been involved in some nasty stuff, Annie. Believe me, this is going to be hard for you to take. It wasn’t my fault, but you only have my word for it. I should have told you about this weeks ago when it first looked like we enjoyed each other’s company.”

  “Don’t tell me anything that will make you unhappy.” She stared at
the black sky.

  “It may make us both unhappy but I’ve got to take that chance. I’ve had two brushes with the law.” Max pressed his lips together and collected himself to go on. “The first time, my college girlfriend was murdered and I was accused, then cleared.”

  He caught the glitter in her eyes when she turned to stare at him. “How awful. Who killed her?”

  “They never found out.” What felt like a brick in his throat made it tough to swallow.

  “I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his shoulder and rested her cheek there. “I wish I’d been around to support you.”

  His eyes stung and he blinked. “Thank you.” Her breast was full and firm against his side. Staying focused mattered now, really mattered.

  “I could have told them you would never do something like that,” she said.

  A bitter taste entered his mouth. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Three years ago it happened again. My girlfriend was…someone killed her.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Her absolute stillness should be what he expected, but it turned his stomach and started a gut-twisting burn of anger at the same time.

  Settle down. You don’t get to live a charmed life.

  And he didn’t want to answer the questions Annie was bound to ask.

  “I’d better leave,” he said.

  “No.” Annie rubbed her fingertips over his back. “I know you and I trust you. You wouldn’t hurt anyone. Everythin’ that really matters to you is about helping folks.”

  She wasn’t afraid of him. He’d told her the worst but she remained by his side. With her he could have a chance at happiness, at closing the door on the horrific times. But if they spent too much time together, Annie might get hurt.

  “I wish everyone felt the way you do. Not that I blame people for being suspicious. If something happens once but it can’t be proved, sure you ought to get the benefit of the doubt. But the second time, even though you’re found innocent…Well, my faith would waver, too.” He held her tighter and she didn’t resist. If he wanted to tell her how she soothed his soul, he wouldn’t know how. Instead he nuzzled the side of her neck.