Tough Customer

by Sandra Brown

  Caroline smiled through her tears and gave a small nod.

  "And it was ... good?"

  She burbled a soft laugh. "Like we'd never been apart."

  "Then he wouldn't have just up and left without saying something."

  "He did."

  Ski asked, "He gave you no indication that he was going to split?"

  "Something was troubling him. I asked him about it last night, and again this morning, but he put me off, told me it was nothing, made jokes. But I think..."

  "What?" Ski prompted.

  "I think he'd done what he came here to do. The bad guy had been caught." She shrugged with helplessness. "He dreaded a prolonged good-bye."

  Ski pushed his chair back, stood, and moved to the window. He slid his hands, palms out, into the back pockets of his jeans, a habit Berry was coming to recognize and find endearing. After a moment, he turned back to them. "With all due respect, Caroline, I don't think that's it. Not entirely anyway. He was bugged."

  "About what?"

  "As we were leaving the hospital after Starks died, he told me about Berry's missing bracelet. He hated that he would never get an explanation for that. Was it or was it not the one on Sally Buckland's wrist?

  "He was complaining that this case had been wacky from the start, that Oren Starks had never followed a pattern, which was odd for a methodical guy so into solving puzzles. It wasn't just the dread of an emotional parting that was bothering Dodge."

  "Then why would he leave without a word? Why won't he answer his phone?"

  "He's a coward," Berry declared.

  "When it comes to situations like this, yes, he is." Caroline reached for Berry's hand and pressed it between hers. Smiling sadly, she said, "Even if he wasn't going to say good-bye to me, I thought he would want to say something to you."

  It's better this way, Dodge told himself for the hundredth time.

  He'd got in, he'd got out. He had done what he'd come to do. He'd helped get his kid out of a scrape. The culprit was history. Mission accomplished.

  Personal issues that were decades old also had been resolved. He'd met his daughter. They'd established a good rapport, far better than he'd had any right to hope for.

  As for him and Caroline, he'd have thought the world would end before she shared a bed with him. Last night...

  Stop it!

  If he let himself think about that, he would turn the car around so fast, he'd give himself whiplash. Loving her, having her love him, had been a bonus, a gift he hadn't expected and didn't deserve. To his dying day, he would be grateful for it. Leave it at that.

  Why spoil all the good stuff with a tearful farewell scene? It was better to make a clean break.

  Without him, their lives would return to normal. He would be no more missed than a hand that's removed from a bucket of water. That's what his old man used to tell him whenever he threatened to run away from home.

  "You know what happens when you take your hand out of a bucket of water? Instantly, it's like it was never there. So go! See if I care. See how long you're missed."

  That's how this would be. Caroline had her work to sustain her. Berry was strong-willed and talented. She would recover from the trauma of the last few days and do just fine. And if she needed support, Nyland was there to lend it with his big broad shoulders. Big cock, too, probably.

  But if the deputy ever did wrong by her, and Dodge learned about it, he'd come back and kill him.

  His phone rang for the umpteenth time. "Why won't that damn woman give up?"

  But he saw Derek's number on the readout. He was calling for the second time this morning. Dodge hadn't answered the first time, but, thinking that he might just as well get this conversation over with, he yanked the phone from his belt and barked into it, "Yeah?"

  "Dodge?"

  "Isn't that who you called?"

  Derek chuckled. "Hello to you, too."

  "Hello."

  "How are you? Are you okay?"

  "Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Julie and I have been worried. You said you were going to call. You haven't."

  "I've been busy."

  "How're things going down there?"

  "Fine."

  "Then why do you sound so out of sorts?"

  "Because I'm probably going to be charged a fine for smoking in this rented car."

  "Well, you should be."

  "That's discrimination. What I need is a good trial lawyer to fight my case in court. Except I don't know one."

  "Ah, hitting below the belt. That means you're good and pissed over something. What's going on?"

  "Nothing. I'm coming back."

  "This soon?"

  "I'm flying out tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning. Depending."

  "On what?"

  "I may hang around tonight and eat some decent Mexican food. God knows you can't get it in Atlanta."

  "The problem that took you there, did it get solved?"

  "Yeah."

  "Good. That's good. Hold on." Dodge could hear whispering in the background, then, "Julie says to ask how your daughter is."

  "She's all right."

  "So you saw her?"

  "Yeah."

  "It went okay?"

  "It went fine."

  "What's she like?"

  "Her mother."

  "Is that good or bad?"

  "Look, Counselor, you're exceeding the minutes on my calling plan. Are you going to reimburse me?"

  "Come on, Dodge, talk to me."

  "I thought that's what I was doing."

  "If there's a problem, and you need my help--"

  "There's no problem, and all I need your help with is this phone bill."

  After a couple of beats, Derek said, "Stop this and tell me what's going on."

  "There's nothing to tell."

  "I find that hard to believe."

  "Sue me."

  "You told us that your daughter was in a jam. A police matter."

  "You got a remarkable memory, Counselor. Anybody ever tell you that?"

  "Has the police matter been resolved?"

  "Yeah. I mean, for the most part."

  "For the most part?"

  "The culprit's dead, and she's safe."

  "So why aren't you happy?"

  "Who said I wasn't?"

  "You don't sound happy."

  He was tempted to lay it all out there and get Derek's opinion. Because he really did value it, although he'd deny it with his dying breath. But the personal aspect of his dilemma was a sad tale, and he was the ogre of it, and he didn't want to lessen Derek and Julie's regard for him, which couldn't be all that great to start with. As for his misgivings over the "police matter," they were just that. Unsubstantiated, unidentifiable, and, at this point, irrelevant.

  Crossly, he said, "You don't have enough drama in your life, Counselor, you gotta borrow from mine?"

  Derek sighed with resignation. "Have a safe flight."

  They disconnected. Supremely agitated and in need of a cigarette, Dodge pulled onto the shoulder of the freeway and lit one. He was at a crossroads. Literally. Up ahead the freeway divided. The right fork would take him to the airport, where he could probably get on a flight to Atlanta this evening. The left fork would almost certainly lead him on a wild-goose chase.

  Why was he even debating the choice? Why didn't he just go? He'd made a clean break.

  But that was bullshit, and even he was no longer buying it.

  He hadn't made a clean break, he'd sneaked out.

  He'd run away because he was too chickenhearted to say good-bye. The two women he'd left behind would be furious, frustrated, maybe a little heartbroken.

  And even without taking their feelings into account, there was this other thing nagging him, holding him back when he should just get the hell out of the freakin' state of Texas.

  "Shit." He drew hard on the cigarette one final time and tossed it out the window. Cursing himself for being every kind of fool, he put the car in Drive and shot acros
s four lanes of traffic in order to take the left fork.

  "You're not supposed to be in here now. Didn't you read the sign? Visiting hours are over."

  Dodge turned away from the bed. The nurse filling the doorway was maybe four feet, eleven inches tall and almost that wide. Her scrubs had clown faces on them. Her hair had been plaited into dozens of cornrows with multicolored beads that dangled against her shoulders.

  He gave her his most engaging smile. "I like your hair."

  She propped a ham-size fist on her ample hip.

  Instantly he switched tactics and became repentant. "I must have missed the sign."

  "Um-huh," she said, like she'd heard it all before. She waddled into the room and looked down at the tiny form on the bed. "How you doin', sweetheart? You gonna sit up and talk to your gentleman caller here?"

  With obvious compassion, she stroked the patient's cropped white hair. The woman who'd given life to Oren Starks showed no sign of awareness even though her eyes were open.

  "Is she always like this, Glenda?" Dodge asked, reading the name on the tag clipped to the nurse's top.

  She looked him up and down. "You a relative?"

  "Friend of the family."

  "You know the son who got himself shot? We got the news this morning."

  "Actually, he shot himself. I hadn't had the misfortune of meeting him, but I know a lot about him. He did some bad stuff." Dodge, feeling a rare urge to tell the truth, said, "I was in on his capture."

  "Huh." He was subjected to another once-over. "You look like a cop. You got a gun?"

  He turned his back to her and raised the hem of his jacket.

  She harrumphed. "You're not supposed to have firearms in here."

  "I must have missed that sign, too."

  She tsked and shook her head as though he was a hopeless case, then returned her attention to the patient. "I can't see her boy's dying making much difference to her."

  "How long has she been like this?"

  "It came on gradual like, you know, the way it does. But she's been unresponsive for more than a year. Some of the sorry help in this place just ignore the poor little thing. Never talk to her. But I take good care of her, and we have our chats." She plucked a tissue from a box on the nightstand and used it to wipe a string of drool off Mrs. Starks's slack lips. "Don't we, sugar? You feel free to chime in now anytime you get a mind to."

  "You're a saint, Glenda."

  "You're full of shit."

  "No, I mean it."

  "So do I." But she was grinning.

  He laughed. "Guilty."

  "What are you doing here, Mr. Cop?"

  "I don't know."

  "You don't know?"

  "No. And that's no shit." He looked thoughtfully at Mrs. Starks. "I guess I hoped she would enlighten me."

  "Like how?"

  "Like tell me something about Oren that would explain why he whacked out, killed a woman, a sixteen-year-old boy, and an old man, then wished another person dead with his dying breath."

  "Lord o' mercy." The nurse shook her head again, causing the beads to clack together. "I'm sorry, sir, but she can't help you. Last few times that Oren came to see her, she didn't know him, didn't even know he was here."

  Dodge asked how often Oren had visited his mother and when the last time had been.

  "A while back," Glenda told him. "Several months, at least. Frankly ... and this is just between us, I wouldn't say it if this poor soul could understand."

  "My lips are sealed."

  She leaned toward him and spoke in a stage whisper. "I didn't like him."

  "No one did. I didn't even know him, and I didn't like him."

  "He wasn't right in the head, you ask me. Made you uncomfortable just to talk to him, you know?"

  Dodge nodded.

  "I was never happy to see him coming but was always glad to watch him go." Glenda's giant hand, with its surprisingly gentle touch, stroked her patient's arm. "Poor lady. I wouldn't wish her condition on anybody, but I'm kinda glad she doesn't know what her boy sunk to. After all that other sad business, she didn't deserve this."

  Dodge's heart hitched, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. "Glenda, darlin'?"

  "Hmm?"

  "What other sad business?"

  "Do you have to go?" Berry asked when Ski kissed her good-bye at the back door of the lake house.

  "Duty calls. I've got to make an official statement to the media. Dot i's, cross t's."

  "Will you come back for supper? I think it will make Mother feel better if you're here." She rubbed against him. "It'll make me feel better, too."

  He nuzzled her ear. "You couldn't possibly feel any better."

  Laughing with self-deprecation, she said, "I'm being shamelessly easy."

  "I haven't exactly played hard to get." He pecked her lips with his. "Save my place."

  She waved him off, watching like a lovesick puppy until his SUV was out of sight, then she climbed the stairs and went into the guest room that she'd occupied since last Friday night.

  Upon entering the room, she spotted the bag of Oren's gifts sitting on the bed. Seeing it made her shiver. She had retrieved it this morning from the closet in her bedroom, the one Dodge had been sleeping in until last night. After getting Ski's call that Oren was regaining consciousness, they'd rushed from the house, leaving it and its contents on the kitchen table.

  Who had brought it up to this room? She didn't want to look at it but was loath to touch it, so for the time being, she left it where it was. In an attempt to banish all thoughts of Oren's dying moments from her mind, she was eager to feel the heat of the sun on her skin, the embrace of the cool lake water.

  After quickly changing into a swimsuit, she jogged downstairs and went to her mother's bedroom. She wanted to ask her about the bag, but when she opened the door, she saw that Caroline was curled onto her side, hugging the pillow that would have been Dodge's. Probably she had cried herself to sleep. Berry decided to leave her in peace.

  She walked to the edge of the pier and dove into the lake. She swam underwater for as long as she could hold her breath, then surfaced and began swimming a vigorous crawl. The tension in her muscles gave way to a burn that felt good.

  When she tired, she rolled onto her back and floated, expending just enough energy to keep herself afloat as she gazed at the white puffy clouds overhead and thought about the bizarre events that had taken place since the last time she'd gone for a swim.

  So many bad things.

  But good things, too.

  She'd met Dodge, and, despite what her mother believed, she refused to accept that he would abandon them again. He loved her mother. Berry would bet her life on that. And he liked her. She knew that to be equally true.

  No, she thought decisively, Dodge wasn't out of their lives yet. Even if he was operating under that delusion, she wasn't going to let him go.

  And Ski. They'd got off to a rocky start, but sexually, they weren't merely compatible, they were combustible. He left her as hungry as she was satisfied, and the same seemed to be true for him. They'd pleasured each other until they were weak, but still they'd wanted more.

  Aside from the marvelous sex, she also liked his solidness, admired his practical viewpoint of things and his unmitigated honesty, even regarding his own shortcomings. He appealed to her physically, cerebrally, and emotionally. He was as close as she'd ever come to the one.

  With enticing possibilities in mind, she flipped onto her belly, then did a surface dive and swam back to the pier. When she reached the ladder, she grabbed the top rung and was about to pull herself up when a head popped over the edge of the pier.

  "Boo!"

  CHAPTER 29

  OREN STARKS LEERED DOWN AT HER. "SURPRISE!"

  Berry screamed and tried to push herself off the ladder, but Oren grabbed her wrist, clamped a handcuff on it, and jerked hard. "Get out of the water!"

  Her only thought was Escape. She kicked and thrashed. She tried to pull her wri
st free, but the metal cuff cruelly gouged into skin and bone.

  "Berry, if you don't get out of the water, I'll kill your mother." He tapped the barrel of a handgun against the edge of the pier. "Bang-bang, she's dead."

  Instantly she stopped fighting.

  He smiled beatifically. "Thank you, sweetheart."

  She gaped up at him with horror and stupefaction. Her teeth were chattering with terror. She couldn't speak.

  "You look like you've seen a ghost. Thought I was dead, didn't you?"

  Her head wobbled an affirmation.

  "Well, clearly you were wrong." He yanked on the cuff. "Get out of the water."

  "I ... I can't."

  "Ber-ry," he said in a singsong voice, "I'm going to count to three. One. Two."

  "All right." She gulped a breath. "I'll get out. But you'll have to let go of my hand or I can't climb the ladder."

  He aimed the pistol at the bridge of her nose. "With those long, shapely thighs of yours, I'm sure you'll manage."

  "I need both hands to pull myself up."

  "Let me make myself clear. Either you'll make do with one hand or I'll blow your brains out, then go into the house and do likewise to your mother. But only after fucking her in every orifice. If you don't think I'll do it, remember Sally."

  If he could rise from the dead, he was capable of anything. Seeing no option available to her, she placed her foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, but she was trembling so bad it slipped off. She fell forward and banged her chin on the metal rung.

  "Hurry up!" Oren hissed.

  Apparently he had had the same thought she had, that a boat might come near enough for her to scream for help. He alternated between charting her progress up the ladder and scanning the lake for an approaching craft. Unfortunately, this being a workday, there weren't many boaters out, and none on this inlet of the lake.

  Berry hauled herself up onto the pier. She thought of lowering her head and plowing into him, surprising him with an aggressive action. But he could still shoot her, and then her mother would be helpless.

  Besides, she wasn't sure she could muster the strength. She was shivering with fright and with cold now that the air was hitting her wet skin. Her teeth continued to chatter.

  Oren grinned evilly and nudged her raised nipple with the barrel of the pistol. "I took a picture of you like this. Have you seen it? You were stretched out here on the pier. The wind must have kicked up." He stuck out his tongue and waggled it obscenely.