Cold Hearts

by Sharon Sala

  Trey was shocked. “Your husband... Lord. Did you believe him?”

  She drew a deep, shaky breath.

  “Not at first, but then, as the years went by... When Reece was thirteen, he came into the house one day, talking. I thought he was talking to me, but he said no, he was talking to Louis, and then this other voice came out of his mouth and it was Louis to a T. I didn’t know what to make of it and didn’t have the money to take him to any doctors, so over time it became the three of us instead of the two of us. Reece began to develop an obsession with women and Louis was afraid of them, and that’s how they’ve been all these years.” Silent tears rolled down Pinky’s cheeks. “So now I bury him.”

  “Louis’s truck was in the supermarket parking lot. I had one of my deputies drive it here for you.” He dropped the ring of keys into her hand. “It wasn’t part of the crime scene, and neither is his house. I believe he was renting that place, so you’re free to remove his personal effects. I wouldn’t wait too long. The landlord will be doing it for you if you don’t.”

  Her fingers curled around the keys as she remembered Louis’s words. There’s a will in the lockbox in the closet. All of Reece’s money will go to you.

  She didn’t know how she felt right now, but happy about coming into money wasn’t part of it. She looked up, seeking some kind of absolution for her family.

  “I don’t know how to feel. My son tried to murder someone and now he’s dead, but there was a small part of him that struggled to be good.” She wiped away the tears and, in true Pinky fashion, got down to business. “Will I be notified when his body is released?”

  “Yes. I gave the authorities your contact information.”

  She fingered the key ring, glad the cop hadn’t asked her if she had a license. “Thank you for bringing me his truck.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sorry for your loss, and I’ll let myself out,” Trey said.

  Pinky followed him to the door and turned the dead bolt after he left, then faced the room. She’d come to Mystic for a handout and instead had become the catalyst for her son’s death. Fate could be a cruel bitch. Pinky knew that better than most.

  Her heart was pounding and her belly rolling as she felt the food coming back up her throat. She staggered to the bathroom and threw up until she could no longer stand, then dropped to her knees and held on to the toilet bowl until her belly was as empty as her soul.

  * * *

  Mack’s sleep was restless. The nurses kept coming into the room every few hours to wake Lissa. It was part of the process of caring for a concussion by making sure the victim hadn’t slipped into a coma.

  The thought of that even being a possibility kept him so anxious he couldn’t relax. He was lying on his side facing her bed so that he could see her face as she slept, and the sight was a vivid reminder of what she’d endured.

  A dark bruise had appeared on the side of her forehead, and her lower lip was swollen and cut. The sight made him sick to his stomach, and yet he couldn’t turn away. Then his eyes grew heavy and without intending to he fell asleep. He woke abruptly to the sound of Lissa crying.

  He rolled out of bed so fast he forgot he was hurt. Pain ripped across his shoulder as he stumbled toward her just in time to hear what she was saying.

  “Call Mack, Mama. Call Mack.”

  Oh, hell, she’s dreaming about the miscarriage!

  “It hurts, Mama.”

  He took her hand and leaned a little closer. “I’m here, baby.”

  But Lissa was still locked into the dream. “Mama, did you call him?”

  The tears were killing him. He turned loose of her hand and cupped her face.

  “I’m here, Lissa, I’m here. Open your eyes, baby. See me. See my face.”

  Lissa gasped as if she’d been drowning and just reached the surface. Her eyes were open, but he didn’t think she saw him.

  He bent over and kissed the mole above her lip. “For good luck, baby.”

  She shuddered. “For good luck,” she whispered, and then she blinked, saw his face and sighed. “You came.”

  Blaming her confusion on the concussion and pain, he saw no need to challenge where her thoughts had gone. She just needed to know he was there.

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  Her features twisted from the emotional agony of where she’d been. “The baby...”

  “I know, sweetheart, I know. There will be others. Just rest and get well.”

  “So sorry,” she whispered as her eyelids fluttered shut.

  He stood for a few moments to make sure she’d moved past that dream, feeling shattered by the brief glimpse of what she’d endured without him.

  A couple of minutes passed, and then a nurse came in on her rounds and saw him standing at Lissa’s bedside. “Is everything okay? How is her pain level?”

  “She woke up. She was having a bad dream,” he said.

  The nurse nodded. “After what she went through, I’d be having bad dreams, too. If you’ll step back a bit I’ll just check her vitals and be out of your way.”

  Sleep was over for Mack, so he went up the hall to the waiting area to get a cold drink from one of the vending machines, looking for something with caffeine. The last time he and Lissa had eaten was at breakfast, so he got a Pepsi and a packaged sweet roll, and headed back to the room.

  The nurse was gone. The night-light was on in the adjoining bathroom, and Lissa seemed at peace as she slept. He walked to the window and opened the shades enough to see out as he ate. When he’d finished, he threw away his trash and pulled a chair up near her bed.

  It was nearly four in the morning.

  His eyes were burning from lack of sleep. His shoulder was one miserable ache. But none of it would matter if Lissa woke up on the good side of getting well.

  * * *

  Lissa was dreaming that she was falling, tumbling head over heels down a steep, rocky slope. She grabbed at a bush, but it slipped through her fingers, and then she reached for an embedded rock that came loose in her hands. She knew there was a precipice at the bottom, and when she reached it she would fall over the edge and die. No one knew where she was. No one knew she was falling to her death. They would never find her. She was lost. And when she tumbled over the edge and out into space, she threw back her head and screamed.

  Mack came up out of the chair so fast it took a couple of seconds for him to remember where he was. Lissa was kicking beneath the covers and clawing at the air when he grabbed hold of her arms.

  “Lissa! Wake up! You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s just a bad dream.”

  Lissa opened her eyes with a gasp, expecting to see the ground coming up to meet her. When she saw Mack instead, she began to shake.

  “I was falling! I thought I was going to die!”

  “Easy, honey, calm down. You’re pulling all the tubes out of your arms,” he said.

  A nurse came through the door on the run, turning on lights as she went.

  “What happened?” she cried.

  “Another bad dream,” Mack said.

  An alarm was going off on one machine, and another was registering off the charts.

  Lissa was trembling. The dream was still so vivid she was having trouble grasping the fact that it wasn’t real. “I’m sorry. I thought I was falling off a mountain,” she said, and then looked at Mack for reassurance.

  “Well, bless your heart,” the nurse said, as she began checking Lissa’s IV and then resetting the systems.

  “Did I mess stuff up?” Lissa asked, watching as the nurse began untangling wires and hooking them back up.

  Mack shook his head. “No, baby. You didn’t mess up anything that can’t be fixed.”

  “That’s right,” the nurse said as she added a new piece of tape to the IV line. “There. I think you’re good to go.”

  “I’m thirsty. Can I have some water?” Lissa asked.

  “I’ll check the orders,” the nurse said. “Be right back.”

  Lissa looked at Mack. “Tel
l me it’s over. Tell me the stalker is behind bars.”

  “What do you remember?” he asked.

  “Seeing Louis and then watching him turn into a madman. I ran away.”

  “The only thing you need to know is that he’s dead. He killed himself. We’ll worry about filling in the blanks later, okay?”

  She sighed. “Between the ten years we were apart and now this, we’re going to have a whole lot of blanks to fill in.”

  “And a lifetime to do it,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her.

  She eased back onto the pillow and then licked her lips. “You taste sweet...like a honey bun.”

  He chuckled. “You’re correct. Want one? We can ask the nurse.”

  “I want water most,” she said.

  He gently pushed straggling curls away from her forehead. “It feels good to know you’re no longer in danger,” he said. “I won’t worry about you now whenever you’re out of sight.”

  “As soon as I feel better, I can go back to work. With him dead, there’s no longer a danger to the children.”

  “I know.”

  The nurse came back into the room, carrying a pitcher of ice water and a cup.

  “Here you go, honey. Ring if you need to get up.”

  “If someone was to come in here with a honey bun, I don’t suppose there would be any reason for me to turn down a bite if it was offered?” Lissa asked.

  The nurse laughed. “Technically you’re not on a restricted diet.”

  Lissa looked at Mack.

  “I’ll be right back,” he drawled, and headed back to the vending machines with a lighter step. If she was hungry, that meant she was on the mend. Good news. Very good news.

  By the time he returned, she’d fallen back to sleep, so he set the sweet roll aside and crawled into the other bed. Morning was already here. He just needed a little sunshine to go with it.

  Sixteen

  Marcus Silver was in the library going over invitation samples. He needed to pick one, and have them printed and ready when it came time to invite the necessary bigwigs to his announcement party. Running for senate was no small feat, and he wanted all the backing he could get. He’d talked to his cook, who’d already volunteered to give over her kitchen to a catering company for the night, and he was debating about which florist to use to decorate the mansion when he heard footsteps outside the doorway. He looked up just as T.J. walked in.

  “Hey, Dad, what are you doing?” T.J. asked.

  “Picking out the invitation for the party.”

  “Cool, can I see?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, you can make the final decision. I like any of these four here. You choose and then drop it off at the printers, will you? I need to find out if they’ve released Paul Jackson’s body, and if so, see if his son has set a date and time for the services.”

  “Are you planning something kind of like you did for Dick Phillips?” T.J. asked. “You know, where all the classmates who come get up and say something personal about him?”

  Marcus sighed. “I was thinking we should. I mean, we did it once, so it seems like we’d be slighting Paul if we didn’t do it for him, too.”

  T.J. nodded. “That’s kind of how I see it. Do you need any help making calls?”

  “No,” Marcus said. “But thanks for asking.”

  “I could actually drop by the hospital and talk to Mack myself, if you like,” T.J. offered.

  “The hospital? Why is he at the hospital again?”

  T.J. frowned. “You mean to tell me you didn’t hear about what happened at the supermarket yesterday?”

  “If you’ll remember, I left town after we ate lunch yesterday,” Marcus said.

  “That’s right, you did. Well, long story short, someone’s been stalking Melissa Sherman, and yesterday he tried to abduct her from the supermarket. He wound up killing himself when he couldn’t get away, but she was injured. Mack is at the hospital with her.”

  “She and Mack Jackson are a thing?” Marcus asked.

  T.J. rolled his eyes. “Evidently.”

  “You dated her for a while. You don’t mind talking to him for me?

  “Of course not. It was just a couple of casual dates when she first moved back. I haven’t taken her out in months.”

  “Well, in that case, yes, that would be helpful, son. See what Mack says about us doing something like that. If he doesn’t like it, then of course we won’t.”

  “I’ll go right now,” T.J. said, leaving the room as quickly as he’d entered.

  T.J. knew he would most likely see Lissa, which was the main reason he’d been so willing to help out. He knew she wouldn’t like it, but if the boyfriend took offense at his presence and it caused a little trouble between them, he wouldn’t care. In fact, he would like it.

  * * *

  Lissa sat up in bed long enough to eat a little of the breakfast on her tray and part of the honey bun Mack had bought for her last night, but before long she gave up and quit. Sitting up made her dizzy, and her head was throbbing with every beat of her heart. As she lay there with her eyes closed, willing the bed to stop spinning, she thought of all the years and all the pro football games she’d watched. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d heard an announcer say something offhand about a player being pulled from the game because of a concussion, and never once had she thought about what that actually meant. Now she knew.

  She could hear Mack in her bathroom and knew he was changing clothes. Earlier he’d called Cain and asked him to bring clean clothes from the house. Now Cain was on his way back to Summerton, and Mack was within the sound of her voice. There wasn’t anything left for her to worry about but getting well.

  “Well, Liss, you do get yourself into the damnedest situations. That bruise looks downright miserable. Is there anything I can get you?”

  Lissa refused to open her eyes. “T.J.?”

  “Yes, it’s me, hon.”

  “Why, yes, there is something I need. Would you please go into the bathroom and bring me a wet cloth for my head?”

  T.J. blinked, a little startled that she was actually being cordial, and his Southern gentleman manners kicked right in.

  “I’d be happy to,” he said.

  Three steps to the left and the doorknob was in his hand. He thought he heard something on the other side, but by the time it registered that someone was in there, he’d already opened the door. “Uh...”

  Dressed, Mack was an imposing man. Bare chested and somewhat pissed off, he was nearly scary, especially to T.J., whose daddy always settled his debts and troubles.

  Mack picked up a shirt and walked out of the bathroom, giving T.J. a clear view of the staples in his arm and shoulder.

  T.J. shuddered, and then followed Mack back into the room.

  “What do you want here?” Mack asked.

  The fact was not lost on T.J. that Mack was standing in front of Lissa’s bed like a guard dog. It was time for him to behave himself.

  “Mack, I apologize if my appearance here seems like I’m overstepping my bounds, but I assure you I mean no harm. I’m actually here to speak to you at my father’s request.”

  Mack’s eyes narrowed. T.J. was a couple of years younger than he was, but they’d never liked each other as kids, and getting older hadn’t changed things in any way. “If your father needed to speak to me, why didn’t he come himself?”

  T.J. could feel this whole visit slipping away, and he also realized that Lissa had delivered him to the guard dog without a qualm. Even hurt, she was still a bitch.

  T.J. smiled. “Well, I knew he was busy and I offered—”

  Mack’s eyes narrowed even farther. “When he gets un-busy, tell him to give me a call.”

  T.J. shrugged. “Look, all he wanted to know was if you’d like him to organize your father’s classmates to speak at the funeral services like they did for Dick Phillips’ funeral.”

  A chill ran up Mack’s spine. The fact that the two men had been classmates was most
likely what had made their murderer target them.

  “I’ll be in charge of Dad’s services, but you can thank your father for the offer.”

  T.J. reeled like he’d been punched in the face. It took him a couple of seconds to realize no one had moved and he hadn’t been touched.

  “Yes, of course. I’ll pass the message on, and you have my sincerest condolences on the loss of your father. Liss, I hope you get well real soon. Y’all take care now.”

  T.J. smiled at Mack and walked out, resisting the urge to run.

  Mack followed the man far enough to shut the door behind him, then walked back to the bed.

  “Liss? He called you Liss?”

  She opened her eyes. “That was a blank we just filled in. He asked me out. Three dates. Didn’t like him. Dumped his ass.”

  Mack grinned. “That’s my girl. You always did have good taste.”

  Lissa started to laugh, and then grabbed her head with both hands and groaned. “Lord, that hurt.”

  “Sorry, baby,” Mack said. “Do you still want that wet cloth?”

  She laughed again and then moaned. “You heard that, too?”

  “I wasn’t sure who it was you were talking to, but since you were sending him straight to me, I guessed you wanted him gone.”

  Lissa shuddered. “He gives me the creeps.”

  “He’s just a rich daddy’s boy. You take it easy, honey. I need to finish dressing before your doctor comes by,” he said before going back into the bathroom.

  * * *

  Pinky’s Monday morning was far different from what she’d planned when Louis had dropped her off at the motel. Instead of taking a bus out of town, she was driving her son’s truck back to his house. There was a key to the front door on the ring, and when she went in, she was startled to see the little dog standing in the hall.

  “Oh, hell. Bobo. I know you need out.”

  The little dog made a beeline for the back door. She let him out, and then grabbed a handful of paper towels and went through the house, certain she would find dog pee or poop everywhere, but there was just one little puddle beside the bed.