Pulse Points

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Irene said, turning back with a plate filled with food.

  “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Oh, come on, I know you haven’t had breakfast.”

  “You’re right I haven’t, but I’m not hungry.”

  “Suit yourself,” she replied, a petulant twist to her lips. “So how did your stomps go? I kept waiting for a call but didn’t get one.”

  “Great. I need to revisit those counties soon.”

  “I agree. I’m assuming Larry came through for you.”

  She was referring to one of his financial backers and volunteer workers who had accompanied him on the jaunt.

  “He did just fine.”

  “But not as good as me, huh?”

  “Stop fishing for a compliment,” Tanner said in a harsher tone than he intended. But for some reason, her appearance rubbed him the wrong way, though he had expected her. They were going to reorganize his campaign schedule.

  He hid a sigh. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe it was time to rein her in, to put her in her place. And if she walked, so be it. Nah, not a good idea. Changing ad agencies midstream was enough. At this point in his campaign, he didn’t need another crisis.

  “Are you pissed at me about the other day?” Irene asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  She flushed, then said in a sour tone, “Obviously not, or you would know what I was talking about.”

  He knew, but he saw no reason to give her a green light to have another of her temperamental fits. She might threaten to leave him, but he knew she wouldn’t. When she didn’t get her way, she was prone to pull one of her stunts.

  “So what’s the new agency come up with?”

  “I haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Irene’s eyes widened in amazement. “Do they know the importance of time here?”

  “Yep.”

  “So what’s the holdup? If this person’s as good as you say she is, then—”

  Tanner raised his hand. “We’ll get rolling sometime this week, I’m sure.”

  Irene didn’t respond, as if she sensed she was treading on thin ice. “My but you’ve been in a grumpy mood lately.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  “Of course you do, and I understand that.” She walked to where he sat behind his desk, then around behind him. “I have just the cure for what ails you,” she added in a cajoling tone.

  Before Tanner realized what Irene was about to do, she placed her hands on his shoulders. He stiffened.

  “Hey, relax,” she coaxed in a low tone next to one ear. “You’re too uptight for your own good. This will help work the kinks out.”

  He stood abruptly and immediately put distance between them. When he looked back at her, her face was white and her lips pinched. His conscience pricked, but not enough to let her continue massaging him.

  “I thought you cared about me, Tanner, that we had something going—” she broke off.

  He heard the hint of tears in her voice and felt more like a heel than ever. Maybe if Kasey hadn’t—To hell with that. Kasey or not, he wouldn’t ever get involved with Irene.

  “We never had anything going,” he said in the kindest tone he could muster. “We’re friends and I admire—”

  “Friends!” she screeched. “Why, that’s an insult.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Sorry. I’m sick of hearing that word,” she spat.

  “Look—”

  “No, you look. You kissed me, Tanner, more than once. And I didn’t take those kisses lightly.”

  Actually, she’d come on to him, flinging her arms around him and pressing her body into his. However, he wasn’t going to call that to her attention. Who made the first move was beside the point. Kissing her had been a mistake, a mistake he had no intention of repeating. But how to let her down gently and not add insult to injury was another matter altogether.

  “Right now, Irene, I simply don’t have the time or the mental resources for a relationship. You’re great at what you do, and I depend on you heavily. And would be lost without you. But anything beyond that is off-limits.”

  Irene gave a nonchalant shrug. “For now, I’ll accept that. But I’m not giving up, Tanner. You should know that. I’m convinced we’d make a great couple. We’re both power hungry—”

  “How ’bout we just drop the subject and get down to work?”

  “Fine,” she said in a cool tone. “Just remember when you change your mind and need me, I’ll be there. And that’s a promise.”

  A shiver went through him. Her words sounded more like a threat than a promise.

  “Hi, Mom. Where are you?”

  “Oh, hi, darling,” Kasey responded, feeling her evening brighten at the sound of Brock’s voice. “I’m at home.”

  “Cool. I figured you were still at the office. That’s why I called on your cell.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad to hear from you. How’s your job going?”

  “It’s a job, Mom.”

  “That’s right, and you should be glad to have it.”

  He had managed to land a plum job at a construction site in Waco for the summer. He hadn’t been able to come to Rushmore to work because of football practice. However, she knew Brock would much rather have goofed off than be tied down to a job, even a short-term one. Unfortunately most of his friends were from wealthy families and didn’t have to work.

  He did. As it was, she didn’t know how she was going to keep him at Baylor for another year despite his partial football scholarship. She had thought about trying to borrow more money from the bank, but fear of rejection had kept her away.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m still here, son. When are you coming home?”

  “Soon as I can. But right now, I’m calling to ask a favor.”

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  “A bunch of the guys are going down to Padre Island this coming weekend.”

  “And you want to go.”

  “In the worst way.”

  “I don’t have any objections.”

  “Good, so you wouldn’t mind lending me some money, then?”

  “You should have money.”

  “I’m running kinda short right now.”

  Her heart faltered. “How much do you need?”

  He told her, and she gasped. “Why so much?”

  “Ah, Mom, that’s not much. We have to have a room for two nights, food, and—”

  “Booze. Is that what you were about to say?”

  “Come on, Mom, you know I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  “You’d better not.”

  “So are you good for the money?”

  Kasey hesitated, her mind scrambling to think if she could scrape together some extra cash.

  “When Dad was alive,” Brock said on a whiny note, “I—”

  “I know,” Kasey interrupted. “But you’re stuck with me now.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way, Mom.”

  “You may have the money but don’t make a habit of this, Brock.”

  “I won’t, Mom. I promise.”

  They spoke a few more minutes before he told her he had to go. A short time later she was in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her son was a good kid who didn’t ask for much. While he didn’t know the extent of her money problems, he knew enough to tread lightly.

  But kids would be kids. She just wished she could give him more. Maybe one day she could. Suddenly Tanner’s face sprang to mind, and she went cold all over. She mustn’t think of the two together.

  Ever.

  Eleven

  He’d had no other choice, though he was pissing peach seeds over the one he’d made. Hell, what else could he have done when he needed a fix and was broke? He’d gotten the money where he could.

  His sister, Flora, hadn’t known the difference, he assured himself, long after he had snuck into her house and raided her billfold while she was zonked out on a sleep
ing pill. He figured she’d have some cash as she’d just gotten her check from the government. He’d been right; it was a healthy sum, in fact, which had enabled him to leave her some even though he knew she had money stashed somewhere in that war zone she lived in.

  He’d found it once, a long time ago, and helped himself. Flora never said anything to him. Instead she’d simply changed her hiding place. This evening he hadn’t had the patience to scrounge around for her stash. He’d been in a bad way; his body had been drenched in sweat, and he felt like his heart was going to explode.

  Dammit, he’d had it so good for so long, he’d gotten overconfident, too complacent, that his habit would continue to be fed. Shirley had been such a windfall, such a perfect patsy, that he hadn’t bothered to look ahead, make alternate plans in case something went awry.

  However, he wasn’t to blame. Shirley had been willing and eager to give him anything. Getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, had been so damn easy. And it hadn’t been a chore, either. She had been great in bed, eager to please a man several years her junior. Hey, who could complain? Certainly not him. He’d had a rich, hot mama at his disposal, who’d loved to share her body and her wealth.

  He didn’t know exactly when things began to change, when her attitude began to sour. That shift had been subtle, or else he’d been in such a euphoric state he hadn’t picked up on it right off.

  That had been his downfall.

  “Darling, we need to have a talk,” she’d told him one evening following a strenuous lovemaking session.

  He’d paused in his efforts to pull on his jeans and stared at her. “What about?”

  “I hate to ask, but I have to.” Her features were pinched in concern, though her eyes didn’t waver off him.

  “You can ask me anything,” he responded in a forced, nonchalant tone. “You know that.”

  “I hope so.”

  He waited while she hedged a bit longer.

  “Out with it,” he prodded in that same gentle tone.

  “I need to know what you’re doing with the money I’ve been giving you.”

  Every nerve inside him tightened. “Why?”

  She seemed taken aback by his abrupt question. Yet she didn’t hesitate to answer with another question. “Don’t you think I have the right?”

  “I didn’t think strings were attached.”

  “They’re not.” Her voice faltered. “It’s just that I can’t make it as fast as you’re spending it.”

  “I thought you were using your personal money.”

  “I was, only it’s long gone. Lately, I’ve had to dip into company funds.”

  He cursed.

  “I know that’s not good,” she admitted in a rushed tone, “but I wanted to keep you happy.”

  “And now you don’t?”

  “Oh, no, that’s not it at all.” Her eyes were on the wild side. “It’s just that I’m in a bit of a bind, having brought in a new partner and all.”

  “So are you cutting me off?”

  “Do you have another woman?” As if embarrassed by her question, she went on to qualify. “It’s just that I’m so afraid I’m going to lose you, that what I…we have is too good to be true.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He paused for emphasis, his eyes now drilling her. “Unless—” He deliberately left the sentence unfinished, certain she would get his meaning.

  Shirley moved toward him and stopped just short of touching him. “If I only knew why you needed the money and where it’s going, I would feel better.”

  “It’s going for a good cause, believe me,” he said, proud of his ability to lie with a straight face.

  “I want to believe that,” she said in a pleading voice.

  “It’s my sister. It’s going for her care.”

  “Your sister? I didn’t know you had a sibling.”

  “That’s because we don’t talk, we just fuck.”

  She sucked in her breath. “That sounds so crude.”

  “Wasn’t meant to be, but you know you love it when I talk dirty.”

  High color tinted her pale cheeks but then she asked, “Why does your sister need money?”

  “She’s a paraplegic and poor to boot.”

  An unsteady hand flew to Shirley’s chest. “How awful. How come you never told me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you with my problems.”

  “Oh, darling, you can worry me anytime.”

  He reached for her then and gave her a long, wet kiss, thrusting his tongue down her throat. When he let her go, her breath was coming in rapid spurts. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Same here,” she muttered.

  He took her back into his arms, parted her legs and made her come again with his fingers. Afterward, she dropped to her knees, took him in her mouth and returned the favor.

  The money never stopped coming. Until she caught him.

  He balked against taking a stroll down that treacherous path, but his mind wouldn’t cooperate. Every detail was seared on his memory, and he couldn’t make it go away.

  He’d just gotten out of the shower that evening. Buck naked, he’d strolled into his living room, poured out some powder and inhaled. Immediately he’d felt all the tension ease out of his body and a feeling so exquisite, equivalent to a sexual high, come over him.

  He inhaled again.

  That was when he heard the key turn. Like a deer caught in headlights, he swung around and stared at Shirley.

  “Why, you bastard,” she cried, her features twisted. “You lying, conniving bastard.” She stepped forward with blazing eyes. “All that song and dance about your sister was a lie.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Isn’t.”

  She went on as though she hadn’t heard his response. “You’re nothing but a two-bit druggie.”

  “When did you suddenly become so moralistic?” he sneered. “You had to have known.”

  “You’re crazy,” she screeched. “To think you’ve been snorting my money up your nose, using my money to get high.” Her sudden laughter reached a higher decibel. “What a gullible idiot I’ve been.”

  He grinned, feeling no pain, the drug working its own particular brand of magic. “You said it, I didn’t.”

  Her hand came out to slap him, only he grabbed it in time, gripping her wrist until she cried out.

  “Let me go, you sicko.”

  He grinned. “Not until you calm down and get a hold of yourself.”

  She glared at him, but stopped struggling. He let her go.

  “So now that you know, what do you intend to do about it?” He knew the answer, of course. But before he could make firm plans, he needed to hear the bad news from her.

  “For starters, cut you the hell off.”

  “I wouldn’t advise that.”

  She laughed an ugly laugh. “What are you going to do about it? You’re at my mercy now. No more money. Voilà. No more drugs.”

  “I have other sources,” he bluffed, his high beginning to fade, returning him to the real world with a crash. “There are others who are willing to pay for my stud services.”

  Shirley’s head snapped back like he’d slapped her, then tears gathered in her eyes. “I thought we had so much more.”

  He laughed. “God, what a hopeless romantic you are. You’re almost old enough to be my mother.”

  “That’s not true,” she lashed back, the tears beginning to trickle down her face.

  He raked his eyes over her, not bothering to hide his revulsion. “Get the hell out of my sight.”

  “You won’t get away with treating me this way.”

  “Yes, I will because we both know you can’t do without me. You’re addicted to what I do to you in bed.”

  “And so are you. We’ll see how you fare in prison.”

  “Prison.”

  She laughed again. “Haven’t you heard? Coke possession is against the law. I’m going to turn your ass in.”

  He pushed the panic button, bu
t he didn’t let it show. “That wouldn’t be smart.”

  She hadn’t bothered to answer. Instead she’d turned and walked out the door. That was when he realized what he had to do. He had to kill her before she made good on her threat.

  Now, he brought his mind back to the present and plopped down on his sofa. Chuckling, he indulged in another snort of white powder.

  Yeah, the bitch had it coming. If she hadn’t threatened to go to the cops, she might still be breathing. As it was, she had met her maker. Or the devil, whichever the case might be.

  He chuckled again, closed his eyes and gave in to the feeling that he was flying.

  She had a package.

  A solid one, too. Kasey couldn’t wait to get Tanner’s opinion, certain it would be positive. She and her staff had continued their long, grueling hours until the work was done. The television ads were particularly good, she thought, having written them herself. The billboard signs and flyer slogans were strong as well, though she couldn’t take credit for those alone. The entire staff had participated, especially Red and the other artists. They had done an incredible job with the artwork.

  Still, the underlying theme of the entire campaign bore her mark, which meant she was responsible for its success. Or failure. The thought of failure, however, hadn’t entered her mind, having felt her confidence soar once she’d come up with that special ingredient that had been heretofore missing.

  Kasey peered at her watch. Although it was after hours, it wasn’t too late to call Tanner. It was simply a matter of picking up the phone and dialing the number.

  Only it wasn’t that easy. While she couldn’t wait to show off her handiwork, feel all warm and fuzzy under his accolades, she stalled. Instead her hand hovered above the receiver.

  He frightened her.

  She was far too aware of him as a man, a man whose seductive power over her had almost ruined her life. Although she’d been very much aware of him that day at the cemetery, she had attributed that awareness to the shock of having been caught off guard at seeing him after so many years.