“Yeah. I’m here,” she said in hushed tones, “Do you hear that, Nicky?”
He slumped in relief at the sound of her voice, but managed to keep calm. Getting Marilyn worked up would not help matters at all.
“Hear what, Baby?”
“Another car.”
Nicky pulled the phone from his ear and looked over the outcropping again. Sure enough, he saw another pair of headlights … larger than the first. The engine belonging to them rattled a little as the vehicle slowed and turned a sharp curve.
“That’s the van,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
“Yeah, I know it. We have to tell them, Nicky. Asher would kick us into next week if we knew that Wheeler was up here and we didn’t tell him.”
He sighed. “I hate to do that to Carly on her birthday.”
“Me, too, but unless I go back in right now and run up to my room … they’re gonna know something is up, anyway.”
Nicky shook his head. If Asher Day found out that Wheeler was anywhere near Ruby Spring, he would come unwound. It would probably get dangerous, and someone would probably get hurt. The safest thing was for Nicky to take care of the situation himself.
“Why don’t you just go on inside and let me keep guard up here, Marilyn? I can hear everything. I can almost hear you talking all the way down there … but then you do have a big mouth,” he joked.
“You’re so mean to me,” she gasped.
“I’m a lot of things to you, but I’ll bet mean is not on top of the list,” he shot back.
“OK. But if anything happens that you can’t handle, you call me immediately, do you hear? I almost hate to agree to this … ”
Nicky made soothing sounds. “It’ll be fine. If anything happens, Ross will be out here like a shot.”
“I’m going to wake him up right now,” she said.
He heard the screen door slam and knew that it would be useless to argue with her.
“Yeah, do that. And turn the porch light on for them. Gotta go, now. I’ll be careful.” He hung up before she could say anything else and set the ringer on vibrate. He scrolled to Ross’s number and slipped the phone back into a hip pocket.
Almost right away, the porch light illuminated the area in front of the hotel. “Good girl,” he muttered, and tried the binoculars again. This time, he could make out more than shadowy shapes.
Nicky watched with the binoculars as Carly and Asher strolled toward the hotel. He had his arm around her shoulder and she looked happy. Nicky smiled as he witnessed them exchange a brief, but sweet kiss.
“Whatcha looking at, pervert?”
Nicky jumped at the gruff voice behind him and stumbled as he sprang up from his crouched position. A flashlight clicked on, flooding the rocky area with light, blinding him.
Instinctively, he threw his hands up to his mask-covered face. “Who the hell are you?” he grunted, even though he knew damned well that it was Wheeler.
“It doesn’t matter who I am, son. What should matter to you is how you’re going to explain yourself … squatting up here dressed like a commando, spying on those innocent people.”
“I’m not spying on them, Deputy,” retorted Nicky. He edged away from the cliff and shoved his hands into his pockets in what he hoped was a surly manner and reached for the cell phone. Praying that he was pressing the correct place on the screen, Nicky hit “call” and cocked his head to the side.
“How do you know I’m the law, boy?” Wheeler asked.
Nicky watched as Wheeler toyed with the weighty metal flashlight, slapping it in his palm. Powerful beams of light bounced off the mountainsides and Nicky barely held back his smirk. Not only was this guy crazy, but he was stupid too.
Wheeler advanced and poked Nicky in the chest several times with the flashlight. “I’ll ask you again, surfer boy, in case you had trouble understanding me. How do you know I’m the law?”
Nicky knew it was foolish, but couldn’t resist. Obviously, Wheeler knew who he was, anyway. He grinned and grabbed the end of the heavy flashlight. “Because I could smell you, pig.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Aren’t we going inside?”
Carly tried to keep her tone light, but she was a bit disappointed that Asher didn’t want to go up to the room. Although she was nervous about it, she had been hoping that tonight … after the wonderful day they had shared … he would want to sleep in the bed instead of on the floor.
“We’ll go inside in a little bit. Remember, I told you I have a present for you.” Asher smiled and squeezed her hand as he led her past the hotel.
Carly smiled back and held up an arm. “But you already bought me a present. A beautiful present.” She admired the delicate silver bracelet looped around her wrist, holding it out in the dim light.
“It’s not as beautiful as you,” he responded, wiggling his eyebrows.
Laughing, Carly reached up and pinched his cheek. “That’s one of the lamest lines I’ve ever heard, Asher.”
“Yeah, yeah. But it’s not a line if it’s the plain truth, now, is it?” His serious expression made the smile fade from her lips.
“You really think that, don’t you?” she asked.
He answered her with a soulful kiss, and then buried his head in her shoulder. She closed her eyes in pleasure. Neither of them saw the light bouncing off the mountainsides above them.
“I love my bracelet, Asher,” she whispered into his neck. It was the most she could muster, although in her head, she was chanting, “I love you, Asher.” But she didn’t want to tell him today. She wanted to remember this birthday with fondness … not as the day she declared her love for a man who didn’t feel the same way.
“You’ll love the next present even more … at least I hope you will,” he said.
“You didn’t spend more money on me, did you?” She pulled away and held him at arm’s length.
“Kind of, but not really.” His eyes twinkled.
“Another one of your guessing games, hmm?” Carly tugged on his hand. “Going to Old Town was perfect, so I’m holding high hopes for this one, too.”
“Although it would be great fun, I won’t keep you in suspense much longer,” Asher said. He pulled free and stuffed his hands into his pockets, whistling. Stepping around her, he pulled out a small flashlight and headed for the theater.
Carly followed him, musing. Had he finished off the restoration without her knowing? Impossible. They had spent pretty much every waking moment together. So what could it be? Anticipation fluttered in her stomach as she followed the narrow beam of his tiny flashlight.
“No, I didn’t finish the theater for you.” Asher laughed.
“That’s not what I was thinking,” Carly lied.
“Okay, Beautiful, whatever you say.” Asher pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the backstage door, reaching past her to pull the switch for a spotlight.
On stage, in the pool of light, stood a table she had built for the set, covered in a snowy white cloth. Two empty wine glasses and a bottle chilling in a bucket caught her eye and she moved forward, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Oh, Asher. This is great. What a wonderful way to end the day.”
Behind her, she heard him rummaging in the darkness. On instinct, she opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, but shut it again. Don’t let your nerves ruin the moment, Carly.
Walking to the table, she trailed her hands over the cloth, and then crossed to the old-fashioned settee sitting stage right. The same settee where the hero and the heroine shared a passionate kiss in the play. Shivering, she wondered if she and Asher would be doing the same … and more … tonight. She sat down and folded her hands.
“Close your eyes.” Asher’s warm breath tickled her neck and she shivered again.
“I
’m closing them.”
Carly heard a rustle of paper and then the thrill of contact as his muscular body sank down next to her. All of her nerves were on end, but she willed herself to keep her eyes shut.
He cleared his throat and took one of her hands, guiding it to what felt like a thin edge … a book? She felt along the object. No, it felt like wood. A mirror? She reached down and brushed lower with the back of her hand. No, it wasn’t smooth.
“Careful now,” Asher whispered.
“May I look?” she asked.
“Guess first,” he answered.
“It’s a painting,” she said, smiling.
“Not just a painting, a masterpiece.”
Carly’s eyes flew open and she found herself staring, unblinking … into her own eyes. Dimly, she sensed Asher shift next to her.
He coughed. “I almost hate to ask ..but what do you think?”
Carly’s eyes welled up as she gazed at the painting. A glorious, complex tumble of blues and purples, it was a perfect, dark image of a starry night sky in the mountains. The peaks were barely visible on the horizon, but next to one of them, in a sheer silver wisp, floated an angel. Though the entire painting was abstract, the single image of the luminescent angel was realistic. And it was her.
“It’s … it … ” she began, before her voice broke, and she reached out, trembling to grasp the painting in both hands.
“It doesn’t freak you out that I painted you, does it?” Asher asked, looking at the floor.
“Oh, of course not,” she answered. “I’m just speechless, that’s all. I … I … don’t even know where to start … to describe how beautiful it is. No, not beautiful. That’s not good enough.”
She turned to him, her eyes bright with love. Now she had the courage. Now she could tell him. She propped the painting next to the settee and reached up, locking her hands behind his neck. His eyes widened and he dipped his head to kiss her.
She pulled back and shook her head. “I have something to tell you, Asher. Something I will never say to anyone else but you.”
He stared at her for a few long seconds and then heaved a nervous sigh. Reaching down, he placed a palm on her chest. “Your heart is going a million miles an hour.”
“And so should it be. You make it do that,” she said, her eyes never leaving his face.
“Do you want some champagne first?” He slid his warm hand from her chest up to her face. “You look pretty tense.”
Carly nearly lost her nerve. It was almost as if he knew what she was going to say. As if he knew how hard it was for her, and how important. Nervously, she shook her head.
“Okay, then,” he whispered, stroking her cheek with his long, tapered fingers.
“Asher,” she began, and then stopped, frowning.
Faint voices floated somewhere outside the theater. And they sounded angry.
“What’s that?” she whispered.
He frowned too, and moved his hand to her shoulder. “More like who’s that.”
The voices grew louder as the argument escalated, but Carly couldn’t make out who was yelling. Closing her eyes in a mixture of relief and frustration, she slid off the settee and tiptoed to the backstage door, cracking it open.
Asher was close behind her, a hand on her arm. “Don’t go out there, Carly,” he said softly.
She nodded and leaned closer to the crack. The chilly mountain breeze blew in, and with it, more distinct voices.
“I said go to hell.” One of the voices sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“Is that Buddy?” she asked.
“Who, the actor? No, I don’t think so.”
“You go to hell, Surfer Boy!” The other voice was louder, and meaner. Wheeler.
Carly felt her heart plummet and she reached back for Asher. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
Asher gritted his teeth. “That son of a bitch.”
Before she could stop him, he was around her, out the door and down the wooden steps.
“No, Asher, don’t,” she hissed.
He ignored her plea and reached up to grip her hand. “I want you to kill the lights in here and go down to the dressing rooms. Do you have your cell phone?”
Carly nodded and swallowed. She took a deep breath and pulled it out of her dress pocket.
“Call Ross. Now. And I swear I’ll be back to get you. Just don’t move. Promise me you won’t come after me.”
How could she let him go after Wheeler alone with nothing more than an attitude and a flashlight? Wheeler was dangerous and probably armed. Looking deep into his eyes, Carly nodded again, and then lied. “I promise.”
• • •
Nicky took a step backward as the butt of the flashlight viciously slammed into his ribs again. The pain of being hit a second time turned his initial shock to anger. He stomped forward and shoved Wheeler in the chest. Although Wheeler was taller and bigger, Nicky was quicker, sober, and in good shape. He knew he could hold his own.
“What are you doing up here, Wheeler?”
“I’m up here on official business … which is none of your business,” retorted Wheeler as he twirled the flashlight in his hands.
“I seriously doubt that.”
Revulsion curled in Nicky’s stomach as he stared at Wheeler. The man sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead. Weaving where he stood, he blinked at Nicky. What a loser.
“We’ll see about that when I book you. You’re under arrest for assaulting an officer of the law … and for being a creepy Peeping Tom asshole.” With a mean smile, Wheeler jerked his thumb in the direction he had come from. “Now, let’s get this over with. I’ll do you a favor, even if you don’t deserve it. The trail is steep and I won’t handcuff you until we get back to the car.”
Nicky folded his arms and stood his ground, thinking of a way to buy some time until Ross got up the trail.
“I’m not going anywhere … and neither are you. You have some explaining to do, Wheeler.”
“Oh, Yeah? About what?” Taking the bait, Wheeler spit on the ground and raised the flashlight to his shoulder, playing the beam into Nicky’s face.
“About a broken leg. About a ripped up, ruined costume. About threats painted on that costume. And about verbal threats delivered in a paint store a few weeks ago. Just stuff that your employer would probably be interested in.” Nicky shrugged and averted his eyes from the light, smirking. Where the hell was Ross?
Sucking in a breath, Wheeler weaved again and almost lost his balance.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, boy,” Wheeler sneered, “unless you’re talking about yourself. Sounds like something a Peeping Tom would do to me.”
“Maybe. Except that I’m not spying on Carly. I’m up here to catch the psycho who’s been bothering her and trying to wreck this theater. I’m up here to catch you and hand your pathetic, drunk ass over to your boss.”
Nicky advanced and shoved at Wheeler again. This time the man did lose his balance and he fell sideways, his hip colliding with a boulder. There was a crunch of glass and the sour stench of cheap whiskey floated up to Nicky’s nostrils. Wheeler scrambled up and his arms flailed through the air, but he couldn’t regain control. He fell again, sprawling in a heap of thorny shrubs.
“Ow! Damn you!” he howled.
Nicky chuckled and reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone. He pressed the menu button to light up the display. Sure enough, his call had gone through to Ross. But it was disconnected. Could Ross have heard part of the conversation? The phone had been in Nicky’s pocket the entire time.
“Just stay right there, Wheeler,” he commanded, redialing Ross’s number. It rang once and was answered quickly.
“Nearly there,” said Ross, panting. “Only a few more hundred feet or so
. You okay?”
“Oh, absolutely. But our inebriated friend here isn’t faring so well.”
Picking up the flashlight, Nicky trained it on the bushes and laughed as Wheeler rolled to the side moaning, grabbing at the thorns protruding from his hip. The front of his pants was soaked and he stared down at the crotch in disbelief.
“Damn,” Wheeler whined. “That was my last pint.”
As Ross scrambled up to the top of the trail, Nicky threw his head back, hooting with laughter.
“Sounds like you really do have it under control,” Ross said. Walking over to Wheeler, he kicked at the man’s boot. “Get up, and then get the hell out of here.”
Glaring up at him, Wheeler spit near Ross’s foot and shifted again. “I’m gonna arrest both of you for assaulting an officer of the law,” he muttered.
Ross and Nicky looked at each other, grinning. Wheeler was barely in shape to stand up, much less make an arrest.
Ross circled behind Wheeler and stood over him, pursing his lips. “My, my, that sounds like fun. You’re such a big, strong man. Would you promise to pat me down when we get to the station?”
At that, Wheeler growled and scrambled to his feet. He stumbled again and grabbed at a rock for support. “You stay away from me, homo.”
Nicky slapped Ross on the back and then swung an arm over his shoulder. He pointed at Wheeler. “You’re awfully insecure for such a handsome man,” he said, “Although I might feel a bit foolish, too, if my ass was covered with thorns and I had peed my pants right out in the open.”
Anger replaced the pain in Wheeler’s puffy, watering eyes. He leaned forward, jabbing a shaking finger at the pair of chuckling men. “I changed my mind. I’m too tired to deal with you assholes tonight. But just wait … your time is coming. And jail is no picnic, boys.” He backed toward the trail, pointing at Ross. “Especially for you, sweet cheeks.”
“You scare the shit out of me,” Ross retorted, rolling his eyes.
• • •
Heart to Heart Page 108