by J. D. Faver
A large figure appeared in the doorway.
“Unhand my woman!” the voice commanded as Terrence crossed the room and threw a single punch, landing Mark across the top of Ted’s desk, swirling papers to the floor.
T.J.’s grip on her revolver gave way, sending it clattering against a row of barrister-style bookcases. She scrambled after it as Mark rebounded from the desk. He reached for her just as Terrence caught him with a left cross. The sound of fist meeting jaw was like a batter slamming a home run in Minute Maid Park. T.J. held her gun and watched Mark Desmond land in a heap in the spot she had just vacated by the bookcases. He didn’t move.
T.J. and Terrence stared at each other for a moment and then began speaking at once.
“Has this beast hurt you, then?” he asked.
She said, “Did you really say, ‘Unhand my woman’?”
They faced each other another moment and began talking over each other again.
“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”
“Of course I called you my woman. Who did you think you were?”
“No, he didn’t hurt me and I’ll have you know I was doing okay by myself.”
“Yes, you looked like you were doing okay, hanging there like a wee morsel on the end of a fishing line just waiting for the big fish to bite.”
They stared at one another in silence again and then wrapped their arms around each other, T.J. still gripping the revolver behind Terrence’s neck. Lifting her off her feet as their lips met, she felt the thudding in her chest again, but not from fear. Currents of passion surged through her body, igniting the places Terrence’s hands were roaming.
The sound of footsteps in the outer office alerted them to the arrival of the police. Terrence set her on her feet just as two patrolmen, guns drawn, came toward them.
“Who’s T.J. McCann?” the smaller of the two asked, looking from T.J. to Terrence.
“Right here, officer. My identification’s in my purse.” The officers were eyeing her gun, nervously. “I have a license to carry.” She tucked it into her purse as she showed him her I.D. and license.
“I thought T.J. McCann was a man,” the taller patrolman said.
“Not since that trip to Sweden,” she said.
“Those Swedes do nice work,” Terrence muttered under his breath.
The smaller officer approached Terrence with a pair of handcuffs. Terrence backed away holding his hands up.
“No, officer,” T.J. said. “That’s not the intruder. He’s my--my boyfriend.” She felt a blush creep up to stain her cheeks.
“The dispatcher said you were holding an intruder with outstanding warrants,” the taller patrolman said, an irritable edge to his voice.
“He’s over th--” T.J. pointed to the spot where Mark had landed. There was no sign of him.
“Is this a joke, lady?” the small officer asked.
“No! He was here. I promise.” T.J. looked behind the huge desk. “Terrence knocked him out.”
“Or thought he did.” The short officer smirked up at Terrence.
“I think you need to make your statements downtown,” the taller one said.
“I’ll go quietly, officer,” Terrence agreed, “as long as you handcuff me to her.”
~*~
Maddy composed an e-mail message to Rene. She felt a pang of loneliness for her baby sister that was unlike any other. Rene had always been the little sister, looking up to Maddy to lead the way, to make all the decisions and occasionally to get her out of trouble. Some things never change. She chuckled to herself. When they got Rene back home, Maddy would have to look into some assertiveness training for her. She couldn’t go on just being the little sister all her life.
She pictured Rene as a little girl, always dogging her footsteps. Maddy loved her fiercely, and although she sometimes got in the way, Rene was her little sister after all and was always welcomed.
Maddy sighed and reread the words on the screen. She clicked in a few more sentences and sent the message, waiting a few minutes to see if there was a quick reply. It was Saturday morning. What could Rene be doing at about mid-day in Alaska? No, it was three hours earlier there. She could be shopping, but from what Rene had told her, that couldn’t take too much time. Perhaps she and the children were visiting Nadine or Cindy’s family. She smiled again to think of Rene visiting and having friends like any normal woman. Mark had even cut her off from her dorky friends from school. Maddy snorted and set her mouth firmly. Mark had isolated Rene from just about everything. I’d never let anyone do that to me. She folded her arms across her chest.
Maddy’s smile faded and she felt herself go pale. “That’s exactly what the son-of-a-bitch has done to me!”
She thought of the friends she hadn’t seen in ages, of the organizations and charity events she would have normally been involved in. It was amazing that she hadn’t been invited to any parties. Perhaps her friends and acquaintances thought she had contracted a dreaded disease or was recovering from a botched face-lift.
A horrible dark cloud settled over her as she realized that she too, had become a victim of abuse. She allowed a bully to make her run and hide. Her natural fight or flight instinct usually resulted in her sticking out her chin and doubling her fists, but this time, because she had a family, because she was a mother--she groped for something that felt like an excuse. For whatever reason, she had been frightened. She had gone to ground. She was locked in her beautiful River Oaks home, surrounded by alarms. She even had a bodyguard. Maddy Sanders had run scared. She handed her whole life over to a contemptible man for whom she had nothing but loathing. Her self-esteem was destroyed.
Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over, running unchecked down her cheeks. Maddy’s shoulders shook as she gave in to a wash of sorrow. She wasn’t crying for herself. She cried for Rene, who had felt these same emotions all the years she spent with Mark.
~*~
Terrence lay on the peach-colored satin sheets, his arms cradling the woman who had invaded his heart. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Rays of sunshine streamed through the lacy curtains. He longed to touch the blue-black hair spread across his shoulder or kiss the peacefully sleeping face, but he resisted the urge lest he awaken her. He was content to lie in her bed, holding her, with her hand on his chest and leg sprawled across his torso. Ah, yes, this is heaven.
She had every reason to be tired. After having been taken to the police station, they waited for the Chief to be called to confirm their stories. When he was finally located, they were separated and their statements taken. He wondered what T.J. said as to the reason they had allowed Mark Desmond to slip away unnoticed.
They called a taxi so they could pick up their vehicles in front of Dr. Ted’s office. Terrence suggested coffee, but she said she wanted breakfast and insisted on driving him in her car. He was surprised when she pulled into the driveway of a two-story home in a quiet residential neighborhood. She led him inside and into the kitchen where she promised to fix him a sumptuous breakfast, but they had been sidetracked. That had been about four in the morning. The white porcelain clock read eight-twenty. What a glorious way to spend the wee small hours.
Two gentle knocks at the door and it was pushed open by a small Chinese woman in a robe. She carried a tray with a teapot, cup and a plate of toast. She didn’t drop the tray, but she did drop her jaw as her eyes lit on Terrence.
“Oh!” they said in unison.
T.J. stirred and roused herself. “Oh,” she said in a slightly less than enthusiastic tone. “Mom.” She clutched the sheets around her. “Mom, this is Terrence, my--my,” she paused.
“Fiancé?” the woman asked, her graceful eyebrows rose almost to her hairline.
“No,” T.J. said just as Terrence said, “Yes.”
“Ah, the young man has better sense than my daughter.” She set the tray down on the table beside the bed. “I’ll get another cup.” She turned toward the door and then paused.
“Mom?” T.J. be
gan, but let the sound dwindle into nothingness.
“I’m glad you took your mother’s advice and picked American boy. Chinese boys too selfish. American boys give you the earth.” She slipped through the door.
“He’s not,” she said, “American,” to the closed door.
“It’s all right. “ Terrence stroked her silky arm. “The Scots boy will give you heaven, the earth and his heart.”
“I thought she was going to be with Dad to the lake.” T.J.’s voice trailed off in a pitiful wail.
“She handled this very well,” Terrence said with a smile. “Does this happen often?”
“No! Of course not.” She smacked his arm with her fist.
“Enjoy your tea. I’d like to take a shower.” He threw back the sheets and rolled to a seated position on the side of the bed.
“No! You have to leave.”
“Tiger,” Terrence said, using her given name for the first time. “It’s too late. You can’t make this go away. Is your bathroom through here?” He put his hand on one of the doors other than the one to the hallway.
“Closet. The other one’s the bath.” T.J. took a deep breath. “I’m sure she’s on the phone to Daddy, now.”
“Well, I should freshen up a bit, then.”
“Ooh!” T.J. wailed. “I can’t believe I let this happen.”
“It was meant to be.” He leaned across the bed to give her a kiss. “Cheer up. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“Don’t ask.” T.J. shuddered. “You don’t know my daddy.”
“Well, it’s inevitable since I’m almost family.” He grinned down at her before heading for the shower. T.J. rolled herself into the satin sheets, groaning loudly as she covered her head.
~*~
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Terrence drove into the Sanders’ driveway and around to the garage. Hitting the remote button, he scanned the surroundings as the creaky door rolled open. Pulling into the garage, he waited for it to crank down before opening the car door. Since Mark attacked him, he was cautious when entering or leaving the area.
He turned off the ignition and listened to the song on the radio as he recalled his breakfast at T.J.’s house.
Mrs. McCann had indeed called her husband at the lake to inform him of their daughter’s misdeeds. Terrence had no knowledge of the conversation, but T.J. was unusually somber as she sat across from him at the kitchen table, pushing scrambled eggs around her plate.
“Your father is coming home,” Mrs. McCann said quietly. “He wants to talk to you.”
T.J nodded, her eyes cast down.
“And to you,” Mrs. McCann added, looking solemnly at Terrence.
“Yes, Ma’am. I’d be happy to meet T.J.’s da.” Glancing from T.J. to Mrs. McCann, he realized that neither of the women thought he would enjoy the meeting.
The lake was an hour away by car, but Jack McCann must have set a new speed record. He arrived as Terrence scooped the last bite of eggs from his plate. The kitchen door was thrown open with a burst of barely contained energy. Terrence was conscious of a huge presence framed in the doorway. The morning sunlight was behind him, casting the figure into darkness.
Terrence sat, his fork poised halfway to his lips.
“Daddy!” T.J. gasped in a faint voice.
“Tiger Jin.” The deep, gravely voice emanating from the presence enunciated every syllable of her full name.
Terrence rose from the table. He glanced around to see where he would land when he took the punch he was expecting.
“Sir,” he said, extending his hand only to have it hang awkwardly in the air.
“Tiger,” the presence said.
T.J. jumped to her feet. “Daddy, this is Terrence Kilbride.”
Only then did the presence extend his hand, a hand as large as Terrence’s own. The grip was like steel. Terrence had to exert a bit of pressure to prevent his hand from being crushed.
“Jack McCann,” the voice growled as he gave Terrence’s hand one very firm shake.
“Breakfast, dear?” Mrs. McCann stood on tiptoe to kiss her husband on the cheek.
He stepped into the light of the kitchen, stooping slightly for the kiss. “No, thank you, Ahn. Just coffee. Mr. Kilbride and I need to talk.” He gestured for Terrence to precede him into the front of the house. Terrence noted that the living room was painted a soft yellow accented with cream and small touches of red. The room was sunny and bright, but when he turned to face Mr. McCann, he felt chilled by the cold, glaring countenance.
Surely he wouldn’t be beaten up in this room. “Sir, I, ah,” he began.
“Sit!” McCann pointed to the sofa.
Terrence tried not to envision himself bleeding on the delicate silk print.
Mr. McCann took a cigar from a humidor on the mantle. He jammed the hand-rolled cylinder into his mouth, moving it to the side. Turning to face Terrence, he chomped it several times, before removing it to use as a pointer.
“See here,” he said, sternly. “Tiger is my only daughter. I know you young people do things differently nowadays, but I would be most troubled if you did anything to--that would,” he broke off abruptly. “If you dishonored her in any way.” McCann glowered at Terrence, champing down on the unlit cigar again.
“I see.” Terrence took a deep breath. “I should tell you that I’m my parent’s only son and they would also take a dim view of her breaking my heart.” He smiled up at McCann’s angry countenance.
“Hmmph!” McCann snorted. “It’s not the same thing. Not the same at all.”
“To be sure, my poor heart could be broken,” Terrence insisted. He rose from the dainty sofa, feeling at a disadvantage to be looking up at the tall man. “I do truly love your daughter and what happened just--happened.” His hands made helpless circles in the air.
“Hmmph!” McCann snorted again, squinting angrily. “Just happened? And in my home? Did you have to do this--here?”
“I mean, sir, it wasn’t an elaborate seduction or anything. When the police let us go, it was late and she was going to prepare my breakfast, but we just--”
“Police? There were police involved?” He scowled. “What kind of an accent is that? You’re not Irish are you?”
“No, sir. I’m proud to be from Edinburgh, Scotland.” Terrence rocked back and forth uneasily.
“A Scot, hmm?” His eyes swept over Terrence as if for the first time. “I suppose she could do worse.”
“Yes, sir, I mean, uh, yes, sir.” Terrence had decided to quit while he was ahead.
He turned off the radio in the car and stepped out, activating the alarm. He punched in the code to exit the garage by a side door and reactivated that alarm as well.
T.J.’s father was a remarkable man. They sat together discussing Scotland, McCann’s ancestry as well as his own and Terrence’s intentions toward T.J. McCann. In the end McCann accepted that Terrence had no evil intentions toward his only daughter and stopped just short of arranging their betrothal.
Not such a bad thing. Not a bad thing, at all.
~*~
T.J. hid out in her room. She gazed around at the scene of the crime, absently picking up the clothing she had dropped beside the bed in the early morning hours. Tossing them into the hamper, she started to strip her bed, a typical Saturday morning activity. She sat, instead, stroking the sheet where Terrence had lain. The warmth of her palm released the scent of him, assailing her senses with a sweet melancholy tenderness. She pressed her face to the pillow, recalling the feel of Terrence’s shoulder. Such a nice pillow he made. She pushed herself away. It would be best to get some work done because she couldn’t hang around to face her parent’s accusing stares.
She carried her handbag downstairs, tucked in her laundry hamper. She started the washer, retrieving her purse before dumping it into the swirling water with the contents of the hamper.
“I’m going out,” she called to her parents as she turned the knob. Her father looked at her over his newspaper with
out comment.
“Where are you going, dear?” her mother asked, refilling her husband’s coffee.
“I’m working on a case, Mom. I’m trying to locate someone.”
“And is that how you got arrested?” her father asked gruffly.
“Arrested? Oh, last night,” she said. “We weren’t arrested, just questioned after I let the suspect escape.”
“Escape, eh?” McCann lowered his paper. “Dangerous?”
“Not to me.” T.J. managed a weak smile as she closed the door, hoping she had exhibited more confidence than she felt.
~*~
Later that afternoon, Terrence drove the Sanders family down to Dr. Ted’s office in the medical center. T.J. had called, asking them to meet her there. Ted unlocked the office door as T.J. stepped off the elevator. They trooped inside, T.J. smiling uncertainly at Terrence. The girls made a beeline for Ted’s spacious desk, pushing his chair out of the way and climbing into the knee space underneath. They giggled, intermittently poking their heads out. Ted showed the adults into a small conference room and they arranged themselves around the oval table.
“What’s up?” Maddy asked. “Good news, I hope.”
Terrence smiled encouragingly at T.J. She looked smaller since her mother’s bedroom visit that morning, but she straightened her shoulders and smiled back at him.
T.J. cleared her throat. “I have concerns about your sister’s safety. I asked your Miss Bangs to join us. She holds the key to Mark’s recent activities.”
“Tina? What does she have to do with Mark?” Ted asked.
“Oh, no!” Maddy said. “Surely, even Mark wouldn’t stoop so low!” Her voice took on a strident edge.
They heard Tina Bangs calling out, “Hello. Are you here, Miss McCann?”
“In here, Miss Bangs,” T.J. called to her.
“Why, look who’s here,” Tina said. “Is this a party?” She looked around smiling at them, her vague expression revealing her puzzlement.