I stood a few feet away, acutely aware of the body veiled in flimsy fabric in front of me. As stealthily as possible, I wiped my palms on my hips. He stood up and eased past me toward the kitchenette, grabbing a pitcher of water out of the refrigerator and pouring himself an enormous glass. As he slid the pitcher back onto the shelf, “I’m sorry. I’m not used to company. Do you want anything to drink?” He leaned down into the small refrigerator and began calling out options. “I’ve got Coke, beer, there might even be a wine cooler in here somewhere.”
My eyes roved to where he was bent over, looking in the refrigerator for drinks. “Um, no. I’m fine,” I stammered.
“Chips?”
“No, thanks.” The apartment was so small that it barely qualified as a studio apartment. It looked like it had been a storage area at some point. It did not run the length of the garage below it. Or maybe the room/apartment wasn’t too small, maybe Dave was just too massive for the tiny space. I was warm, really warm, and not because the apartment was balmy. This was a horrifically bad idea.
What the heck was I doing here? I tried to reason with myself: he was worried about my safety. Whoever had broken into my house had proved he could get in and out without any problems. After what happened this morning, my house was locked down from not one but two crime scenes. My best friend was in the hospital. The place where I worked had been robbed, and I had, by far, the scariest stalker in the world. What the hell was I thinking checking out Dave like he was an exotic dancer?
Ashamed of my hormones, I turned away from the kitchen. I should have insisted on going to Mrs. Bavcock’s house. It was after seven. After everything that had happened, she was probably worried.
I reached into my backpack and pulled out my phone. “I need to make a phone call.”
“Sure. You want me to give you some privacy?”
“Um, no. I mean, I just need to call my neighbor, to let her know I’m okay.”
“No problem. I need to check messages downstairs. I closed up this morning and missed a couple appointments. I’m sure I have some ticked off customers to go suck up to.” Dave took the towel he had used by the bench, wiped the bench down, hung the towel up, washed, dried and put away his empty water glass, and went downstairs. It was a little creepy, as if he were on autopilot and nothing could be out of place. Maybe he was just trying to make a good impression. After leering at him in his towel, he could have kept caged chickens in his apartment and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
I dialed Mrs. Bavcock, and she picked up on the third ring. Her voice seemed a little shriller than normal, “Hello?”
“Mrs. Bavcock, it’s Candy. I’m going to stay at a friend’s place tonight, and I didn’t want you to worry.”
There was a short pause. I began to think the call had dropped when her voice answered back shakily, “Where are you staying, in case the police come looking for you?”
“They have my number if they need me. Thanks so much for offering to let me stay in your guest room, but I’ll be okay for tonight. Keep your doors locked.”
She didn’t answer right away. I sort of expected her to argue with me. I heard a cat hiss in the background then a low angry cat growl. Funning, I asked, “It sounds like Henrietta made it home. Did she bring a tom cat back with her?”
The shakiness was still there, “Roland is being difficult. You know how testy he gets when he’s cooped up inside all day.”
Something was wrong. Really wrong. Roland had been the only cat she owned that I liked. He used to come over to my front porch and bask in the sunshine. That cat had had a real affinity for Doritos and could smell a bag through two walls – it was still hard to eat a chip without thinking of him. Roland may have slept at her house, but he had been as much my cat as hers. When he was hit by a car two years ago, I had been heartbroken.
Something wasn’t right. Playing along with her I added, “Roland must want to go hang out on my porch.”
“He did. But I told him you were spending the night tonight and he would be able to see you. There would be no need for him to leave and go looking for you.”
Someone was in her house. She was trying to tell me a man was in her house with her. “You know what? Tell Roland I’ll be right there. With all the action going on in the neighborhood the last few days, he’s probably a nervous wreck.”
Her voice was less shaky. She knew her message had been delivered loud and clear. “Okay dear, I’ll tell him.”
She hung up the phone and I screamed, “Dave!! Dave!!” I sped toward his stairs, launching myself directly into him as he flew back up the steps to where I stood.
Dave’s eyes were wide as he wrapped his enormous arms around me, “What happened? You’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
Chapter 13
“That guy – the shooter, he’s in Mrs. Bavcock’s house. He’s there right now. We have to help her.” I used every bit of inertia in my body to move toward the stairs, but Dave held me in place.
“Settle down.” His voice was calm as his earnest eyes tried to make sense of my frenzied answer. Dave’s arms pulled me back to him, refusing to let me push him away, “Tell me what happened.”
Tears clouded my eyes. She had saved my life this morning. She wouldn’t let me go inside, and now she was in danger because of it. Her warning was like she was saving me all over again. “Roland’s dead. He couldn’t have been the one hissing. But the shooter wouldn’t know that. He wouldn’t know that she told me he was there.”
Dave eased me away from his chest as his eyes lay helplessly on mine. “Candy, slow down. What are you talking about? Who’s Roland?”
Ignoring his question, I whimpered, “We have to go there. He doesn’t know that she told me. If we go there now, he might not hurt her.” I pushed hard against his weight still cementing me in place. His grip loosened, but he didn’t let me go. Dave didn’t move so much as an inch toward the door. I couldn’t understand why he held me in place. I demanded, “Let me go!”
His answer was tender, calm as a lake at sunrise, “Listen to me. You aren’t making any sense. Tell me what’s going on.”
I exhaled deeply, frustrated by his stubborn unwillingness to move. I collected my thoughts and explained, “I called Mrs. Bavcock to tell her I wouldn’t be staying at her house tonight. While I was talking to her, a cat hissed then growled in the background, and she told me it was Roland. Roland’s dead. None of her cats would hiss at her. There had to be someone else in the house with her that one of the cats was hissing at. By her telling me it was Roland, that was her way of letting me know that something else was going on. Please, can we go now?”
Dave was dialing before it even registered that a phone was in his hand. “I’d like to report a home invasion at…” He cupped his hand over the phone and whispered, “what’s her address?”
“421 Elm.”
“At 421 Elm Drive. It’s an elderly woman, and I believe the man inside has a gun. I believe there may be a policeman stationed in the area because of an earlier disturbance.” Dave hung up before the dispatcher could ask him for any additional information. His hands guided me to sit on the step halfway between his first and second floor. He knelt on the step in front of me so we were eye to eye, “We’re not going there.”
I jerked, “I have to go! She needs me!”
His head shook ever so slightly. “No, what she needs is the police. They don’t need you in the way.”
“You don’t understand: she’s an old lady. She’s probably scared shitless right now.”
Evenly, Dave’s sweet voice refused to waver, “She’s smart. She got the message to you. I called the police. She’s going to be fine. You told me a patrolman was posted on your street. The dispatcher will radio him; she’ll be fine.” His hand reached to my wrist as his fingers gently caressed my forearm. He probably meant it to be a reassuring gesture, and if any other scenario were going on right now, it would have been, but his touch was so light it felt like a spider crawling on my skin and I
swatted his hand away.
“Fine. You called the police. I’m going over there. I won’t get in the way.” I tried to get to my feet, but Dave held me in place on the step.
His voice was smooth, while his hands were firm as iron restraints, “You’re forgetting: I can’t go over there. The police are still looking for me. If I show up there with you, they’ll take me to jail. I don’t want you alone while things get sorted out. I’m not going to leave you to fend for yourself while I’m locked up. We stay put.”
I had made a mess of things. Dave had already tried to come to my rescue once today, which was before he knew anything of the chaos that was going on. He’d gotten shot for his trouble, I’d probably given him a concussion on the drive here, and now I wanted him to go back to the lion’s den with me. His hand cupped my face, forcing me to look into his dark brown eyes. His thumb nimbly caressed the sensitive skin under my jaw as his fingers spread out on my cheek. My eyes closed, allowing my senses to soak up his touch.
His simple gesture had captivated me. Dave’s thumb continued to stroke down to the nape of my neck as I felt his breath close to my lips and could smell the wintergreen mint of his breath. As my eyes opened, the intensity of his stare held me still. I averted my eyes, embarrassed by the sensations rushing through me. When I spoke, my voice sounded feeble, even to me, “I owe her.”
“She will understand. She wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger. She would want you to stay where you are – safe.” My hand raised itself to his, which was still cradling my face, his eyelids slowly closed as he leaned his lips forward brushing mine. His kiss was apprehensive, as if he were silently asking me for permission.
My lips reacted to his, the suppleness of his lips lingered on mine as his other hand drew to my side and wrapped itself around me. I had kissed plenty of guys, but most were more interested in shoving their tongue down my throat. Dave’s kiss was different, like a cool breeze on a warm day, a seductive caress. I leaned forward, pressing my lips more firmly to his as a dull moan escaped him. He stood from where he had been kneeling on the steps, bringing me to my feet and guiding me back to the top of the steps.
My hands wrapped around his elbows, as I registered defeat at the top step, wanting to give in to the building desire welling up within. As we both stood just inside his apartment, Dave’s arms encircled me, holding me to him as his breath danced across my neck in a heavy exhale.
Before I could completely lose myself in him, the nagging voice that had been briefly locked away in a compartment inside my brain roared to life. Images of Mrs. Bavcock began playing in my head: her insistence that I not go in my house when I arrived this morning, her support as we crouched on the floor and peered through her front window, and her eager offer to provide me shelter no matter what kind of trouble I had gotten myself into. Each of these images sprung to the surface of my mind. I pulled away from Dave, trying to clear my head.
He eased forward as I stepped back. I put both of my hands against his chest to separate myself from him, acutely aware that he had briefly incapacitated any hope I had of rational thought while he kissed me. I took another step away from him. Dave’s eyes snapped open while an apology poured out of him. “I’m sorry. Shit. I didn’t mean to. . . Candy, I’m an idiot.”
Dave believed I had rejected him. He distanced himself from me as he turned away. I had wedged space between us because I couldn’t think with him that close to me, kissing me, caressing me. He made me want to shut the rest of the world out and get lost in him, but I didn’t have that luxury right now. I couldn’t let anything happen to Mrs. Bavcock, and I couldn’t let Dave distract me from what I needed to do. Her life was in danger because of me – I would never forgive myself if something happened to her because I had done nothing.
His back faced me and his posture looked sullen: Dave had misconstrued my action. My head was still spinning from the impact his kiss had on me, but the fog he had created was clearing enough for me to say the words that had been muted in his embrace. “Look, I know why you can’t go. It’s okay. I just need to be sure she’s okay.” He remained with his back toward me, still on the other side of the room, fumbling with a remote for the television.
His voice was low, filled with remorse, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It won’t happen again.” His shoulders remained arched forward as if weary and defeated.
My backpack was in my hand. I didn’t have much time, but I couldn’t leave him like this. I bolted over to where he stood, wrapped my arms around him from behind and stood on my tippy toes as I breathed into his ear, “You’ll do it again if you know what’s good for you.” His body went rigid under my touch, but he made no move to turn toward me. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Promise.”
I spun toward the steps, but Dave caught my forearm before I could go. He wore a confused expression, as if trying to detect a hint of deception. Before he could ask me anything lame, I planted a kiss just to the right of his lips. “Twenty minutes. Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to continue what you started on the steps.”
With no time for a sappy goodbye, I pulled my arm free from his grasp, and ran down the steps – only to see my battered car. The windshield looked far worse than I remembered it from when we had arrived. I looked for the lever to lift the bay door behind it when Dave’s voice called from beside the pop machine. “Here.” He tossed a set of keys. “Take my truck. I’m timing you.” A brilliant smile flashed as he hit a lever behind him and the right bay door lifted.
It was a beautiful black truck, newer with leather seats and, surprisingly, an automatic transmission. It had been forever since I drove a vehicle I didn’t have to shift. I would have expected him to have a restored truck, but this one had heated seats, so I wouldn’t give him any grief later.
Chapter 14
I eased Dave’s truck to a stop halfway up my street. The area in front of Mrs. Bavcock’s house was completely blocked by police cruisers with flashing lights. At least a half-dozen uniformed policemen milled around the street and Mrs. Bavcock’s yard. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t spy an ambulance, and none of the police had their guns drawn. Had I been wrong? Had I overreacted to what she had said on the phone?
A pit began to form in my stomach. If I had misunderstood her on the phone and called the police out on a false alarm, could I be charged with anything? I got out of the truck knowing Dave had been right: I had been stupid to come here. What did I hope to accomplish? I never should have left his apartment.
An energized voice echoed from Mrs. Bavcock’s yard, “Oh my goodness, Candy! You’re okay.”
Mrs. Bavcock was running at me like a two-year-old leaving day care. I scrambled to get to the neighbor I would be forever indebted to. “I’m okay. Are you okay? What happened? Was he here?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she grabbed hold of me. “He was. He’s gone. He was standing at the front window when the patrolman who had been parked up the street began walking toward my front door. He ran out the back door and through the alley before I realized what was happening.”
I looked her up and down: not a mark on her or a hair out of place. All these grotesque images of the vile man hurting her had been on constant play in my head on the drive over – she was fine. “How did he get in?”
Mrs. Bavcock’s head bowed as embarrassment clouded her face. “He knocked on my back door holding a cat, asking if it belonged to me.”
It wouldn’t take a criminal mastermind to know that cats were her weakness. It wouldn’t matter who the stranger was; if it was someone who had a hurt cat, she would open her door to them. Where was the policeman who was supposed to be watching out for her? I grabbed hold of her, unwilling to chastise her for her lapse in judgment. I only wanted her to know how glad I was that she was okay. I gave her the strongest hug I thought her frail body would be able to absorb without hurting her. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Tears continued streaming down her face as she hugged me ba
ck and whispered, “I could sure use a guest in my guestroom tonight.”
As I pulled away from her embrace, I saw the hopefulness in her eyes. She had every reason under the sun to be frightened and not want to be alone in a house full of cats tonight. I longed to go back to Dave to take whatever comfort he could offer me after the worst twenty-four hours of my life, but I couldn’t tell this lady no. “Sure. Just let me make a call.”
I pulled out my phone as she walked back to her yard. I didn’t have Dave’s cell, but given the fact that he lived over his garage, I called the number listed in information for his shop. Dave picked up on the second ring. His voice urgent with worry, “What happened? Is she okay?”
“He was here. She’s a little shaken up, but it doesn’t look like he hurt her.”
He let out a grateful sigh, “Good. I’m glad she’s okay.” There was a pause on the line as I grappled for how to tell him I wouldn’t be back tonight. His voice rolled back to the silky sound from before, “My watch says you’ve got eight more minutes before your promise is broken.”
My heart lurched hearing his words as heat welled up within me, “Yeah, about that. She’s okay, but she’s pretty scared. She really wants me to stay with her tonight.”
A disappointed breath echoed through the phone, but Dave remained silent without trying to tempt me with his seductive voice. I wanted to go back to his place. For a fraction of a second I had considered calling my sister to tell her what had happened so she would come stay with Mrs. Bavcock. If I did that, a family phone tree would be enacted, and I would spend the next two days reassuring every relative I had that I was fine, while they interrogated me about the events. I wouldn’t call Kim or Carly.
I was striking out without even getting a chance to bat. “I know. Look, I’ll return your truck before I go to school tomorrow morning.”
His Frozen Heart Page 14