During the early days of their marriage, she’d hardly been able to bear looking at them. But he’d always teased her about them and with the passage of time she’d grown accustomed to them until they no longer bothered her.
Edison straightened, turned toward the closet, and jumped to see her standing there leaning against the doorframe. “Damn it, mujer! Stop sneaking around. One of these days you’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“I remember when no one could sneak up on you. You must be getting soft in your old age.”
His gaze narrowed menacingly. “There’s nothing soft about me. Come here, and I’ll prove it.”
She gave him a saucy grin in return. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” Her gaze shifted to his suitcase. “Going somewhere?”
“The airport called. O’Malley booked a flight to Charleston for tomorrow morning. I want to be there before he arrives, so I booked myself on one that leaves in three hours.”
She absentmindedly twiddled the ends of the single, thick braid that hung forward over one shoulder. “You were right, then. It was him.”
Just yesterday, her husband had surprised her by coming home with a porn video directed by a woman with the improbable name of Coco Keswick. Having never before seen such a movie, she was looking forward to watching it. Sauntering over to the dresser where the plastic DVD case rested beside her collection of perfume bottles, she picked it up and waved it at him. “And what about our plans for tonight?”
“Mierda. I’m sorry, Encarnita. I have to go.” He turned toward the closet, then spun back around. “Don’t you dare watch it without me.”
“That depends on how long you’re gone.”
He crossed the room toward her, arm extended. “Give it to me.”
“I don’t think so.” She shoved it down the front of her jeans.
He regarded her archly. “Do you honestly think that’ll stop me?”
“I sincerely hope not.”
He gave her a rakish grin, then glanced at his watch. “Mierda. I need to get going, querida, lest I miss my flight.” He pulled her into an embrace. “Forgive me?”
“This time, mi amor.” She raised her eyes to his. “What do you intend to do to O’Malley?”
“Whatever’s necessary.”
CHAPTER 39
The following day, Larissa slouched in the passenger seat, gazing disinterestedly at the city scenery rolling past. Feeling the weight of Brendon’s eyes on her, she turned to him. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were staring.”
“Sorry. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Everyone at the salon keeps commenting on how depressed you are, even the customers. You should consider going on antidepressants.”
“I don’t want to take drugs.”
“They’ll make you feel better. My motto’s always been: ‘Better living through pharmaceuticals’.”
She managed a small laugh. “You’re so bad.”
“You should try being bad. You might like it.”
“That’s what worries me.” She heaved a weary sigh. “If I’m not feeling better in a month, I’ll make an appointment with my doctor.”
He reached over to give her hand a squeeze. “So, how’s Cujo?”
“Stop calling him that.”
“It’s better than the name you gave him. What would your Agent Jarvis say?”
“What Agent Jarvis says or does is no longer my problem.”
A couple who lived across the alley bred pit bulls and, four days ago, they’d appeared on her door with a puppy. She’d tried politely to decline the gift, but they’d insisted she needed a dog for protection. Since her two handguns hadn’t prevented her kidnapping — not to mention that the puppy was so damn cute — she’d finally accepted. Brendon insisted on calling him “Cujo” despite the fact that she’d named him “Chase”.
A silver Suburban aggressively cut in front of them. To avoid clipping its rear fender, Brendon stomped on the brake and the seat belt dug into Larissa’s shoulder as inertia propelled her forward. A month ago, such a near miss would have had her heart racing, but now she might not have even noticed if Brendon hadn’t leaned on the horn.
“Did you talk to your mechanic?” he asked.
“He says my car’ll be ready tomorrow afternoon.”
The day after she’d gotten the puppy, her transmission had gone out. She didn’t yet have the money to get her car out of the shop, but Brendon didn’t need to know that. He’d insist on loaning her the money even though she still owed him for the plane ticket from California. Tomorrow morning, she’d see about taking out a $1,500.00 bank loan, using the small amount of equity in her house as collateral.
Brendon pulled to a stop in front of her house and let the engine idle. “I’ll be picking you up at seven tomorrow.”
“Why so early?”
“There’s a new pastry shop I want to check out.”
“Neither of us eats pastries.”
“Well, honey, you need to start. You’re starting to look anorexic and Cujo’s the only one who wants a bone. How much weight have you lost, anyway?”
“Twelve pounds.”
“You’re definitely having pastries for breakfast. Anyway, the real reason we’re going is there’s a hunk working there that looks like a young George Clooney.”
“I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.” As she opened her car door, he opened his as well and got out. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”
“A gentleman never leaves a lady on the curb.”
* * * * *
Upon arriving in Charleston, Chase had rented a motel room not far from where Larissa lived, then drove by her house. Not finding her vehicle there, he then drove by the salon, only to find it wasn’t there either. Pretending to be a client, he’d called the salon. The man who’d answered had informed him that, although Larissa was there until five, she was booked up.
At four-thirty, he’d driven back to her house and parked in front. The elderly Asian woman next door kept a suspicious eye on him from behind a curtain. Worried she might call the police, he drove off, circled the block, and parked down the street out of her view, but where he could still watch for Larissa’s arrival.
He missed the little calico, whom he’d finally given the name “Artemis”, after the Greek goddess of the hunt. Afraid the cat would think he’d abandoned her once again, he’d arranged to have Roach stay in his apartment until his return.
Once again, he felt the weight of unseen eyes upon him, as if a sniper had him in the crosshairs. With icy fingers of dread curling around his neck, he twisted around in his seat to scan the street, but spotted nothing out of the ordinary.
He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. How could he expect her to talk to him after all he’d put her through? It had been an act of sheer idiocy for him to come. If he were merely trying to make restitution for all the pain he’d caused her, he’d simply drop the envelope into her mailbox and drive off. The smart move would’ve been to mail it with a brief note of explanation.
The longer he sat there, the more doubts poured into his mind. What if she freaked when she saw him? Worse, what if she shot him?
A royal-blue Honda Civic drove past and the sight of Larissa sitting in the passenger seat caused his heart to skip several beats and left him feeling so hollow and shaky inside that he neglected to get a look at the man driving. Shit. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might already be involved with someone. He’d been a fool to come all this way.
However … since he was here, it’d be asinine to leave without even attempting to speak to her. He started the car and pulled away from the curb. Beads of sweat popped out on his face as he pulled up behind the Civic and killed the engine. As Larissa and the man got out of the vehicle and started up her walk, a wash of relief flowed over him as he recognized the man with her as her boss. Her gay boss.
/> She’d lost a considerable amount of weight since he’d last seen her. A knife of guilt pierced him at the realization that the loss was due to his actions. Well, if she didn’t kill him, he’d do his best to put some curves back on her. Despite the weight loss, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. A denim dress skimmed her body and high-heeled sandals made her slim backside sway enticingly.
He got out of the rental car and closed the door with a thump. She glanced back in his direction, did a double take, and faltered to a stop. Despite the heat, the sweat that sheathed him had gone cold. Trying to tame his galloping heartbeat, he strode up the walk and stopped several feet from her. “Larissa, I apologize for showing up with no advance warning, but I need to talk to you. Will you give me just a few minutes of your time?”
She stared at him, her entire body rigid. Jesus, she looked as if she were about to succumb to a stroke. Movement at the house next door caught his eye. The elderly Asian woman was back at the window.
Her boss appraised him with frank interest, obviously trying to figure out what his relationship with Larissa might be. After a moment, though, Larissa’s continuing silence alerted him to the fact that something was amiss. Brows knitting into a frown, he cast a suddenly suspicious glance at Chase before turning toward her. “Honey, are you okay?”
Ah, Jesus, he’d made a terrible mistake in coming here. “Larissa, do you want me to leave?”
She blinked several times, then shook her head as if to clear it. In a drawl as thick as honey and as sultry as the warm, humid air surrounding them, she finally spoke. “No, don’t go.”
The relief that suddenly flooded through him made his knees feel wobbly. “All I ask is a little of your time.”
“Agent Jarvis called last week to tell me you’d been released.”
Her boss’s expression suddenly changed to one of horror. “This is him?” He looked downright panicky as he fumbled a cell phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling the police.”
Chase snatched the phone from his grasp. “I can’t allow you to do that.”
“How dare you!”
Larissa laid a restraining hand on the man’s arm. “Brendon, please let me handle this.”
The front door of the neighbor’s house opened and the diminutive Asian woman stepped to the edge of her small porch. “Everything okay, Larissa?”
“Everything’s fine, Yumiko. Thank you.” She turned back to Chase and extended her hand, palm up. “Please give me Brendon’s phone.”
“Is he going to call the police?”
“No.”
“Yes, I am!”
“No, you’re not, Brendon.” Chase reluctantly handed her the phone.
“Larissa, after all this man has done to you, how can you continue to protect him?”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t. He should be in prison.”
“No one’s going to prison. And lower your voice before someone hears you. If he meant to do me harm, he would have done so long before now.”
When Brendon turned to regard Chase dubiously, Chase assured him, “Larissa’s right. I would never do anything to harm her.”
“You already have!”
“I know, but it wasn’t intentional. I’m here to try to make amends.”
“You see, Brendon? I’ll be fine. Thank you for bringing me home.”
His eyes opened wide at her dismissal. “I can’t just leave!”
“Yes, you can. Please trust me on this.”
“I do trust you. It’s him I have a problem with.”
“If our friendship means anything at all to you, please do as I ask.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and stood for another moment, worry etched in the lines of his face. Then he pulled her into a fierce hug. “I don’t like this.”
“Everything will be fine,” she assured him. “Do you promise not to call the police?”
With obvious reluctance, he said, “I promise.”
She handed him the cell phone. “I’ll call you later.”
With serious misgivings, Chase watched Brendon climb back into his vehicle. Although Larissa might trust him not to call the police, he himself did not. As the Civic slowly drove off, she turned to him. “I’m not in any danger, am I?”
“Of course not. I only want to talk to you.”
Her eyes flicked to her house and then back to him. “We could go for a walk.”
“I’d like that very much.”
“Wait for me here while I change. I won’t be long.” Although she clearly didn’t trust him enough to allow him inside, at least she was willing to listen to him. As he watched her stride to her door and let herself inside, guilt once again assailed him at how thin she was.
He felt that strange prickle again, as if unseen eyes were watching him. A curtain fluttered at the neighbor’s window. At the end of the block, Brendon’s royal-blue Honda Civic pulled around the corner and stopped at the curb, motor idling. But it was neither of those two who provoked his unease. Turning to face the street, he first scanned the vehicles parked along either side of the street and, spotting nothing out of the ordinary, studied the houses. It must simply be a case of nerves.
* * * * *
Larissa closed the door behind her and slumped back against it, heart pounding from the adrenaline that surged through her veins like a drug, filling her with giddy energy.
He was here! He was actually here!
If she didn’t first keel over into a dead faint, she was going to drop dead of a heart attack.
From its cage in the kitchen, the puppy whined, and the sound galvanized her into action. She pushed off the door and raced to the bedroom where she peeled out of her clothes and threw on jeans and a tee shirt. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair, and applied lip-gloss with trembling hands.
Without warning, Agent Jarvis’ warning suddenly echoed in her head, causing her already-accelerated heart rate kicked up another notch. What if Chase were here to assure that she’d never identify him?
She shook her head. The very idea was ridiculous. Jarvis had deliberately made her paranoid, hoping that, on the off chance that Chase did show up, she’d immediately call the police. And, in any case, Brendon knew he was here, and Yumiko had seen him as well. If Chase wanted to eliminate her, he would have simply broken into her house and waited for her to come home.
Returning to the bedroom, she removed the 9mm from her purse. She dropped the magazine, saw with relief that it was still full, slapped it back in, then eased the slide back to see another round gleaming in the breach.
With every nerve in her body twanging from the overload of adrenaline, she shoved the 9mm into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back, and tugged her tee shirt down over it. Chase would not hurt her.
Still, it never hurt to be careful.
* * * * *
As Chase waited, it occurred to him that Larissa might’ve called the police herself. But his fear of the police showing up was actually less than his fear that she’d reject him.
Finally, her front door opened and she emerged, wearing a tee shirt and jeans and carrying a puppy. She locked the door behind her, paused to let the puppy relieve itself in the grass in her front yard, then joined him on the sidewalk.
The puppy capered about his feet and he knelt down to pet it. “Pit bull?” When she nodded, he said, “Despite what you see on the news, they’re excellent dogs.”
“A lot of people in this neighborhood have them.”
He stood. “Exactly how much does your boss know?”
“Everything.”
“Everything?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry. Brendon would never betray me.”
Tugging impatiently at the leash, the puppy was nearly vibrating with eagerness, and so they started down the street. “Jesus, Larissa, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
She turned to regard him expressionlessly. “At the time, yo
u weren’t exactly seeing me at my best.”
“Or you, mine.
“Chase, why are you here?” Her lips seemed to caress his name, and he realized it was the first time he’d ever heard her say it.
“Several reasons, actually. First of all, I want to thank you for not sending me to prison. I’m not sure why you didn’t, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.
“Secondly — despite the fact that mere words are inadequate to express my remorse — I want to apologize for dragging you into this mess. I’m truly and deeply sorry for everything. The only plausible excuse I can offer is that I’m a fucking idiot.”
She tilted her head to gaze up at him. “You’re not an idiot.” For a moment, a little mischievous light danced in the green eyes. “A moron, maybe, or even an imbecile, but not an idiot.”
“Thank you. I feel much better now that we’ve clarified that.”
She raised a trembling hand to brush a wayward strand of hair from her face. “You could have apologized over the phone.”
“I was afraid you’d hang up on me and, in any case, I wanted to do it face-to-face.” He glanced back to see that the Civic had crept halfway up the block. He hadn’t really expected Brendon simply to drive off and leave but, while it irritated him that the man felt it necessary to follow them, he was relieved to know someone was looking out for Larissa.
She was clearly unaware they were being shadowed. “Does Cheyenne know you’re here?”
“I guess you saw her on the news.”
“After Agent Jarvis showed me a picture of the two of you together.”
“I should’ve known he’d do something like that. He and Sengupta questioned her, which was a waste of their time, since she knew absolutely nothing. But, in answer to your question, Cheyenne and I are no longer seeing each other.”
She took a deep breath that lifted her breasts and delineated them against her tee shirt. With an effort, he forced his eyes back to her face. “The day after you were released from jail, I called you. When you answered, I hung up.”
“I knew that was you. Why didn’t you say something?”
The Heart Has Reasons Page 37