Tough Customer

by Sandra Brown

  His heart damn near stopped. He barely controlled the impulse to clutch his chest as he gasped for breath. The sound of rushing air filled his ears. He felt dizzy and uncoordinated to the point that he almost reached out to Caroline for support.

  Even more surprising than these physical reactions was the emotional one. A sharp tug deep in his gut, a constriction around his heart, a piercing of his soul, all painful in their intensity.

  This beautiful young woman with Caroline's coloring was his flesh and blood, his kid. The miracle of her being overwhelmed him ... for the second time. But the first time, he'd been too young and stupid, too much in love with the mother, to fully appreciate the miracle of the child.

  Along with these visceral and emotional reactions, another arose that was even more surprising but equally eruptive. Suddenly, he was Conan the Barbarian, proprietary and protective to a savage extent. God help anybody who laid a hand on his kid. He'd tear their throat out with his teeth.

  Yeah, with all these new and explosive impulses running amok through him, it was a good thing that he didn't have to say anything right then. But God, or whoever was in charge and running this show, extended some mercy and let him survive the next several moments without making a fool of himself.

  He managed to continue along the hallway at Caroline's side, his gait reasonably normal for a man whose knees seemed to have dissolved. Because he was overjoyed to be seeing Berry, but Caroline had admitted that even she couldn't predict how Berry would react when introduced to him.

  He imagined she might be as nervous as he. Or she might spit in his face, or refuse to acknowledge him on any level, or fly into histrionics and rant, or scream and faint. Whatever she did, however she handled it, he'd have to live with it. He didn't expect the best, he deserved the worst, and he was braced for anything.

  But the anticipated introduction wasn't imminent after all because Berry was otherwise occupied. Dodge and Caroline were close enough now to overhear the exchange taking place between her and a blond woman, whose pretty features were distorted by anger.

  "Oh, yes. He called periodically to assure me how hard the two of you were working."

  "We were."

  "In between dips in the pool and bottles of wine."

  Berry groaned. "It wasn't like that. Please, Amanda, don't do this."

  Her placating gesture was rebuffed. After telling Berry not to touch her and to stay away from her husband, the blonde came barreling around a big dude in cowboy boots and ran flat into him and Caroline. She muttered an apology as she stumbled past.

  Dodge placed his hand beneath Caroline's elbow. "She nearly knocked you down. You okay?"

  She nodded absently and went quickly to their daughter. "Good Lord, Berry. What was that about?"

  "Oh, Mother, this situation just keeps getting worse."

  Caroline turned her aside, and the two began to speak in undertones. Having been shut out of the confidential conversation between mother and daughter, Dodge and the quasi cowboy sized each other up. Finally the cowboy said, "Ski Nyland."

  Dodge shook the large hand extended to him. "The deputy sheriff."

  "That's right."

  He had cool gray eyes and the no-nonsense demeanor that Caroline had described. Dodge said, "I heard about you."

  "Okay." Then after a beat, "Who're you?"

  Under the strained circumstances, Dodge took no offense at his directness and answered in kind. "Friend of the family." He glanced over his shoulder in the direction the blonde had taken, but she had disappeared. Coming back around to Nyland, he asked, "Ben Lofland's wife?"

  The deputy nodded. "And she's not a happy lady." His cell phone chirped. "Excuse me." He turned his back on Dodge to take the call.

  Berry and Caroline were still conferring in whispers, leaving Dodge to his own devices. He decided to go and look for Ben Lofland's unhappy wife, who appeared to be in desperate need of someone to talk to.

  And just like that, he realized he was in. Committed. This was his kid, his problem, his fight.

  A half hour later, Dodge's cell phone rang. He saw the caller was Caroline. As soon as he answered, she asked, "Where'd you go?"

  "Outside to smoke."

  "We're on our way out."

  "Have you told Berry--"

  "No."

  He digested that, then said, "I'll be in my car."

  They disconnected. Dodge made his way along the landscaped pathways of the hospital campus to the parking lot where he and Caroline had left their cars in side-by-side slots. He finished his cigarette, got into his car, and started the motor so he could turn on the air conditioner.

  Atlanta could have its humid days, but,

  shit, this air felt like a wet blanket. It clung to hair, clothes, skin. Its density congested nasal passages and bronchial tubes. The unrelenting humidity was one reason he hadn't been sad to abandon the coastal plains of Texas thirty years ago. The only reason.

  He was watching the exit doors as the two women emerged. Berry was a full head taller than Caroline, but her limbs were as slender, and she moved as gracefully. When they reached the cars, Caroline bent down and spoke through his lowered passenger window. "Follow me."

  He nodded and looked past her toward Berry. She opened the passenger-side door of Caroline's car, then tipped her sunglasses down and regarded him curiously across the roof of the car. After a long moment, during which Dodge's heart acted like a jackhammer, she replaced her glasses and got in.

  It was several minutes before his cardiac system settled down, but he continued to wonder how Caroline had identified him to Berry. What explanation had she given for his sudden presence in their lives?

  Well, whatever, it wouldn't be long before he found out.

  From the hospital parking lot, the drive to the lake house took seventeen minutes. Three of those minutes were spent at traffic lights on Bowie Street, which was the main drag through the center of Merritt.

  Just past the high school football stadium on the outskirts of town, Caroline turned onto Lake Road, which was aptly named because, five miles beyond the turnoff, it ended at a three-way stop with the lake lying directly ahead, separated from the road by a bait shop/convenience store, a fishing pier, and a public boat ramp. The left and right extensions of the T were narrow roads lined on each side by forest, mostly pines.

  Caroline turned left. The road followed the curves of the lakeshore. The occasional houses they passed were upscale and exclusive judging from what Dodge could see of them behind extravagant landscaping and estate walls. A few of the houses and several waterfront lots were advertised for sale.

  Caroline King Realty, the signs read. Her name was written in cursive white letters on a deep green background. A little gold crown was perched on top of the capital K.

  Her house sat about a hundred yards off the road in a clearing that had been carved out of the surrounding woods. Pines and oaks gave way to cypresses nearer the lakeshore. The calm water reflected the sun like a mirror. A short pier jutted out over the water, but Dodge didn't see a boat.

  The house itself was surprisingly modest, not nearly as grandiose as some they'd passed. The clapboard exterior was painted dove gray, accented by white window shutters and columns along the porch. There was a patch of yard in both front and back, the St. Augustine grass surrendering gracefully to the forest floor at the perimeter of the clearing. Well-tended flower beds provided patches of brilliant color, the plants neatly tucked under blankets of pine straw.

  He pulled his rental car alongside Caroline's, cut the engine, and got out. Again, his knees felt unreliable.

  Caroline said brightly, "Let's go inside to make introductions. Get out of this sun. Berry and I tend to freckle."

  He was about to say,

  I know. He'd spent one whole night trying to get around to kissing each one of her freckles. But still clueless as to what Caroline had told Berry about him--certainly not that--he said nothing as he followed the two women up a set of back steps and
through a door that opened directly into the kitchen.

  As soon as they were inside, Caroline said, "I hope you don't mind coming in through the back, Mr. Hanley. We're informal around here and rarely use the front door." She sounded a bit breathless, like she had when she first shook hands with him at Mabel's Tearoom. "Berry, this is Dodge Hanley."

  Berry removed her sunglasses, setting them and her purse on the kitchen table, then reaching across it to shake hands with him. "Hello."

  He took her hand, touching her flesh for the first time. "Hi." For several seconds, that was all he could manage to articulate. Then he muttered, "Call me Dodge."

  Still using that overly chipper voice, Caroline said, "How about some iced tea?"

  Berry was still staring at him, taking his measure. Absently she said, "Sounds good."

  He said, "Fine."

  Caroline suggested they go into the living room and make themselves comfortable while she got the tea ready.

  "This way," Berry said, disappearing through an open doorway.

  Dodge shot Caroline a perturbed glance. She whispered, "Go on. It's fine."

  He followed the younger woman from the kitchen, and when he reached the living area, she got directly to the point. "Mother tells me that you're a private investigator."

  So, to some extent, Caroline had decided to be truthful. Truth was always helpful when you had to lie. "That's right."

  "I've never actually met one before."

  "It's not like on TV."

  "How is it different?"

  "Well, I've never had to leap off a tall building to avoid being shot, or been trapped by a bad guy in a dark, dead-end alley. Mostly I chase paper, not people."

  She smiled like she didn't know whether or not to believe him. "You're from Atlanta?"

  "I live there now. I work for an attorney. A defense lawyer. The best. Or worst," he added. "Depending on which side you're on."

  "He's tough?"

  "The toughest. I overheard an assistant DA accuse Derek of sprinkling ground glass over his Cheerios every morning."

  She smiled again, but it quickly inverted into a frown. She went to a wall switch and turned on the overhead fan. "Mother had professional cleaners come in this morning. I can smell the solution they used. Can you?"

  "No. My sense of smell is shot. Too much smoking."

  "I tried it in high school. One cigarette, mind you. But Mother caught me. Those days, I was certain she had superpowers, eyes in the back of her head, amplified hearing. Anyway, she and Daddy had a fit, grounded me for two weeks and, worse, took away my phone for a month. I never lit up again."

  He smiled, but an arrow went through his heart at the mention of "Daddy." "Good. That's good. It's a nasty habit."

  She held his gaze for a long time, then motioned him toward a rocking chair. "I'm sorry. I'm forgetting my manners today. Have a seat."

  She claimed a corner of the sofa just as Caroline came in with a tray bearing three tall glasses of iced tea. She set the tray on the coffee table.

  Berry looked at it and murmured, "Our wineglasses."

  Dodge took the glass of tea that Caroline passed him. Although there was a sugar bowl and spoons on the tray, Caroline didn't offer him any because she knew that, while he preferred his coffee with two spoonfuls, he drank his tea unsweetened. He wondered if Berry had noticed. She hadn't; she was still staring thoughtfully at the tray.

  "What was that, dear?" Caroline asked as she spooned sugar into a glass before handing it to Berry.

  Berry took the glass, sipped from it, then seemed to come out of her momentary trance. "Nothing."

  She looked across at Dodge, who was trying to sit still in the rocker, because each time he moved, the cane seat squeaked. More like groaned.

  She returned her glass of tea to the tray, rubbed her hands together to get rid of the condensation, cast a look in Caroline's direction, then addressed him again. "I'm not sure why Mother retained you."

  "I told you why," Caroline said. "Mr. Hanley comes highly recommended."

  "So you said, Mother. You learned of him through a friend of yours in Houston for whom he did some work." Looking back at him, she said, "But I don't know what you can do for me. For us."

  "I don't know what I can do, either. But based on what your mother tells me, and on what I saw of that scene at the hospital, there's no question you're in a jam."

  Caroline said, "Mr. Hanley--"

  "Look, stop with the Mr. Hanley, okay?"

  Caroline was momentarily silenced by his harsh tone.

  If he'd sounded meaner than he'd intended, he was sorry, but her addressing him as Mr. Hanley was annoying the hell out of him. And wasn't it a little ridiculous that she wouldn't use his first name, especially when you took into account--

  No, better not to take any of that into account.

  "I'm sorry," Caroline said. "If you prefer being called by your first name--"

  "I insist on it, Caroline."

  "All right, Dodge."

  "I guess that makes me Berry." Their daughter seemed amused and puzzled over the name debate. She divided a look between them, ending on Caroline. "You were saying, Mother?"

  "I was saying that Dodge has years of experience with criminal investigations. I thought it would be helpful to have someone with his insight and skills on our side."

  "To do what?" Berry asked.

  "For starters, to find this asshole who's threatened your life." He caught himself. "Sorry for the language."

  Berry made an impatient gesture that implied Forget it.

  "I need to find this guy before he carries out his threat to kill you," he said.

  "Isn't that up to the authorities?"

  He made a scoffing sound. "Wild Bill Hickok?"

  She smothered a laugh. "Referring to Deputy Nyland?"

  "I like him," Caroline said staunchly.

  Berry looked at her with surprise. "I thought you only met him last night."

  "I did. But I like what I see."

  Dodge's pang of jealousy was misplaced but undeniable. What was it that Caroline liked so well when she looked at the tall, rugged Deputy Nyland? His tanned face and sandy hair? His broad shoulders and flat belly? His stern mouth and cleft chin?

  "Nyland's probably a stand-up guy," he grumbled. "Competent enough. But I don't have the confidence in the authorities that you do, Berry. I've found fugitives while the guys with badges were still trying to organize their search. I don't have to file paperwork. I don't have to get clearance from guys who're a lot dumber than me. I don't have to follow rules or fear demotion if the situation goes south."

  Berry looked toward Caroline, who took her daughter's hand and pressed it between her own. "Dodge can keep his ear to the ground. Keep us informed. I don't want to be blindsided by anything, especially by the reappearance of Oren Starks."

  "I'd rather avoid that, too." Addressing Dodge again, Berry asked, "Aren't you required to have a license in the state where you're working?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Probably."

  She laughed. "You don't care?"

  "Do you?"

  She looked at Caroline, who foundered. "We, uh, Dodge and I haven't had time to discuss all the particulars of his ... uh ... inclusion."

  He jumped in. "I introduced myself to Nyland as a friend of the family. I'm not official."

  "Until your bill comes due," Berry said drily. "What do you charge for keeping your ear to the ground?"

  "A fair rate. I won't fleece you. That I promise. And as long as I'm not on retainer, we can honestly say to Nyland, or to anyone else who asks, that I'm operating in an unofficial capacity."

  Obviously Berry still had misgivings. "It's a strange setup.

  But these are strange circumstances, at least for Mother and me. I don't suppose it can hurt to have someone working for us behind the scenes."

  "I believe Dodge will be a tremendous help," Caroline said.

  "Does Mr. Carlisle know about him?" Berry asked her.
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  "I'll inform our attorney when the time is right."

  Berry withdrew her hand from her mother's clasp, stood up, and began to roam restlessly around the room. "I don't understand the need for a lawyer. I haven't done anything wrong."

  "All the more reason to have an advocate," Dodge said. "Anytime Nyland wants to interview you, you don't say a word without a lawyer present."

  "I already have."

  Dodge cursed under his breath.

  Caroline asked, "When was this, Berry?"

  "At the hospital before you arrived. He and I talked."

  "About what?"

  "Oren's characteristics. Anything that might give Deputy Nyland a lead to follow. It was harmless."

  Dodge had his doubts. "Don't do it again. Understood? My boss would advise the same thing."

  "Of course he would. That's how he makes his living."

  "True. And a damn good living. But I would trust him with my life. Lots of people have."

  "Guilty people."

  "Innocent people, too," he returned calmly. "Including the woman he ultimately married."

  Caroline sat forward. "He married a client? I sense an interesting story."

  Dodge looked across at her. "Yeah. It's a story about a woman in trouble, and the guy who came to her rescue. A very old-

  fashioned kind of story. Boy meets girl, and just like that, he's in over his head."

  "Boy lost girl?" Berry asked.

  "No," Dodge said. "Lucky for Derek and Julie, their story had a happy ending." His eyes remained locked with Caroline's, and for several seconds the atmosphere was fraught with tension. She was the first to look away.

  Dodge uncomfortably shifted his position in the squeaky chair and motioned down at the tray on the coffee table, calling Berry's attention to it. "That seemed to spark a memory earlier. You mentioned wineglasses."

  She resumed her seat in the corner of the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her. "After dinner, Ben and I decided to split what was left in the bottle of wine. So before going upstairs, we sat in here to drink it. Deputy Nyland must have seen the glasses on the coffee table and jumped to the wrong conclusion about what they implied."