“I’ll get it. You stay here.” Lance flipped back the covers and strode naked down the hall to her sitting room.
Even in the midst of her confession, Marjorie had to admire his tight ass and well-muscled back. In less than a minute, he was back with a cold bottle of water. He slipped in next to her and tucked her against him once more.
After a few swallows, she resumed her story.
“Fool that I was, I told the police what I’d overheard, as well as my suspicions that the security chief may have ‘helped’ the man jump.”
“Did they arrest your boss?”
“Oh, no. They brought him in for questioning, all right. But nothing ever happened. My boss’s father was a district judge, his family was wealthy, and the police were solidly behind his candidacy. They informed me that both men had airtight alibis, and insinuated that I was nothing but a gold-digging, jealous lover.” She drank more water. “I’d cop to naïve and stupid, but the gold-digger tag really pissed me off.
The next day, my boss called me into his office and confided in me that someone on the staff had accused him of being complicit in my co-worker’s death. He wanted to know if anyone had talked to me about it. The security chief was there, too, and from the way they asked me questions, I was sure they’d been told I was the accuser.”
She shivered at the memory of Lenny’s flat, black eyes watching her from the corner of that room. Her hands shook so violently as she set the bottle of water on the nightstand, she thought she’d spill it. Lance tightened his arm around her and she burrowed into his side. She’d never told anyone about what happened next and wasn’t sure she’d get through it now.
“I had no doubt they wanted to kill me next, and since the police were already on their side, I felt my only choice was to run. Instead of going back to my apartment that evening after work, I drove to my mother’s place. She and my twin sister lived in a trailer park on the outskirts of Sa— of town. I told my mom everything and that I would contact her as soon as I settled somewhere else. She insisted I take her car in case my boss had the police or his security chief looking for m-m-mine.” At this point, her teeth chattered as though her spine had turned into one large icicle.
Lance dragged her onto his lap and wrapped both arms around her. “Shh, shh, it’s all right. I’m here, darling, you’re safe now. It’s all right.”
She shook her head, two tears sliding down her cheeks. “No. It’s not all right. I made a big mistake that night. I never should have gone to see my mom. When I finally stopped at a motel around four-thirty in the morning, it was already on the news. There had been a gas leak and an explosion at the trailer park. My mom and my sister were both killed, and several of their neighbors were injured.
“I led that bastard right to the two people I loved most in this world, and because he saw my car parked there, he murdered them.”
Marjorie dropped her head on his shoulder and sobbed.
Lance held Marjorie until she’d cried herself out. He suspected this was the first time she’d let her defenses down enough to tell anyone about the deaths of her family members. He tucked the covers around her and spooned against her until she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
He’d expected surprises, but shit, this was far and away more formidable than he’d anticipated. He glanced at her bedside clock. Quarter to ten. Damn. He hated to leave her alone after stirring up those memories, but he couldn’t afford to miss work. He carefully inched out of bed and tucked the covers back around her.
Daisy lifted her head from her own bed, and watched as he stepped into his shorts. “Guard her while I’m away, girl. I’ll be back in the morning.”
He made it to work in plenty of time to meet Dev’s strict standards, and grabbed a cup of coffee before he went back to relieve Johnny Miller. As he passed Dev in the hall, the other man stopped him.
“Can I have a few minutes of your time after your shift, Lance? Nothing bad,” he added, noticing Lance’s frown.
Much as he wanted to rush back to Marjorie, he felt blowing off his boss wasn’t a career-building move.
“Of course, Dev. I’ve got some things hanging fire at home, but nothing that can’t wait for thirty minutes or so. Will that be enough time?”
“More than enough, Lance. Stop by my office on your way out.” Dev headed for the broadcast booth and Lance went on his way.
His shift seemed to take longer tonight than usual. It was difficult to keep his mind on his work after the joys and revelations of the past evening.
When Ed Santone arrived to take over, Lance spent little time chatting with the man. He got a fresh cup of coffee and headed directly to Dev’s office.
His boss waved him to the chair by his desk. “I’ll get right to it, Lance. Chris Majweski stopped by the other day. He told me you’ve completed your therapy series with him and he feels you responded so well that he believes you might be interested in working other shifts besides the eleven p.m. to seven a.m. Is that true?”
Lance sat back in surprise. “I hadn’t really thought about it, Sir.”
Dev raised a brow at Lance’s return to formality.
Lance raised a hand. “Sorry, Dev. Got a lot on my mind this morning. What did you have in mind, exactly?”
“I know you originally took that shift by preference. Because of your problem. But if that problem is gone, I don’t think it’s fair to condemn you to the graveyard shift forever. I’ve already spoken to Ed and Johnny about it, and they both agree we should go to some kind of rotating schedule.”
“Well, it is true that I’ve got a good handle on the daylight issue. And if it’s okay with them, I’d like to work the other shifts too. Especially daytime when there are more people around.” Which would also give me some uninterrupted nights with Marjorie.
Dev nodded. “Good. I’m working out the schedule, but asked for input from both of them, so I’ll put it to you, too. Which do you think would work the best? Working the same shift for a month at a time or a week at a time?”
Lance didn’t hesitate more than a few minutes. “Given my preferences, I’d rather do a weekly rotation.” Hell, the idea of spending an entire night in Marjorie’s bed made him want to start the new rotation today.
“Let me add one more thing into the mix. Ed Santone is programing director with more formal training and experience than either you or Johnny. Because of that, I need him around more in the daytime, so he’ll get, for instance, two weeks of days while you and Johnny swap out the other two shifts. Then you two will each get a crack at a week of days, while Ed goes on evenings. He won’t be working nights, unless he’s covering for one of you while you’re on vacation.”
“I agree the rotation, however you work that out, sounds fair. Now that I don’t actually have to work nights, a month of them sounds much longer than it did back in March.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Dev grinned. “Amanda has been after me to find someone to split my night shift with since the deal with you fell through. I’ll ask her to work out your schedule. She’s a whiz at those kinds of things, but it will only remind her about my situation, so if you come across anyone who might be a fit for nights, send them on around to see me.”
“Will do, Dev. And thanks for the break.”
Lance hesitated. What the hell? His boss said he could come to him with a problem, and even though this thing with Marjorie wasn’t work-related, it was common knowledge around the station that Dev had had his own difficulties when he first hooked up with Amanda.
“If you could spare a couple more minutes, I’d like to talk to you about a more personal matter.”
Dev settled back in his chair. “Sure. Shoot.”
“You know I live over at the B and B that Marjorie runs.”
Dev nodded.
“We’ve, uh, gotten pretty close
over the past months.”
Dev nodded again, a twinkle in his eyes this time. “So I’ve heard.”
Of course he had. Shit, if Blue Point Cove was his high school, WMES was his homeroom. More local gossip traveled these halls than you could find on Twitter or Instagram.
“Well, the truth is, I’ve fallen in love with her. And I think she may feel the same about me, but she’s got something scaring her, and she won’t trust me enough give me any details, just a broad outline of what happened without any names or places. But it’s some serious shit, Dev, and I don’t know how to get her to open up more to me, so that I can help.”
Lance ran his hand through his hair, his frustration plain. “I can’t protect her without more information but she has this crazy notion that she’s protecting me by not telling me. It’s ludicrous, Dev, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“You’ve talked to Chris about this?”
“Some. But he didn’t think I was ready for a serious relationship with a woman, and all due respect for his skill as a psychiatrist, not being ready didn’t keep me from falling for her.”
“I hear you, man.” Dev nodded toward the hallway. “I think I fell in love with Amanda the first day she walked through that door. I effed up our relationship almost beyond repair before I got my act together.” He steepled his hands. “I’m no couple’s counselor, Lance, but I’ll tell you one thing. These women who love us in spite of our obvious flaws are stronger than they seem, and smarter, too. You want her to trust you? Have you trusted her enough to tell her what happened to you in Iraq? Maybe she needs to see that there’s more between the two of you than sweaty sheets and long walks on the beach.”
They studied each other in silence for a minute.
I can’t drag Marjorie through my day from hell in Iraq. I don’t want her to see all of the anger and self-recrimination I keep inside, when I think of my squad dying because I didn’t see that Iraqi bastard as a traitor instead of a trainee. Then the obvious similarities hit him. Wake the hell up, buddy. That’s exactly how she must feel about the deaths of her mom and sister.
Lance stood and put out his hand. “Thanks for the advice, Dev. I’ll give it some thought.”
“If there’s anything I can do to help out with the threat part of the problem, let me know. Around here, we’ve all got each other’s backs.”
Chapter 13
Lance spent a lot of thought on what Marjorie told him last night. Even without the knowledge of who they were, there was no doubt that those two men were killers. No wonder she was afraid. And losing her mom and sister must have doubled the trauma. From what he understood, that explosion made identifying the bodies, what was left anyway, nearly impossible. Even if Scumbag Number One had the scene tested for DNA, which wouldn’t surprise him, the result would be a positive match for Marjorie and her mom. So, chances were good that he wasn’t still searching for her. Scumbag Number Two was simply hired muscle, and wouldn’t be nosing around anymore either, if his boss didn’t order him to.
Logic had little to do with how Marjorie felt, though, and after his own bout with PTSD, he understood that better than the average guy. If it made her more comfortable maintaining her disguise, it was fine by him. He loved the woman inside no matter her hair color or eye color or clothes. She could paint herself purple for all he cared.
If what Dev suggested would help, he’d take her through his last hellish day in Iraq, including the overwhelming, gut-wrenching feeling of failure losing his men still gave him. He doubted he’d ever get over it completely. He’d vetted those natives himself. Taught them basic policing tactics, how to keep themselves and the village safe. All the time training the bastard who would kill his men. His comrades. His friends. Even his dog.
The jihadist may have thought he would go to some Muslim paradise, but Lance hoped he burned in hell.
He parked his car in the driveway behind Marjorie’s. That way if she had to leave, he’d know about it. He still worried that she might bolt. He would do whatever it took to win the love of the woman who was inside, making his breakfast as she did every morning.
There was a world of difference between this morning and yesterday, though.
She had her hair tied back with a green ribbon, but her usual attire of baggy jeans and an oversized T-shirt were still in place. The ribbon made access to the tender spot beneath her ear easier and Lance didn’t waste the opportunity. He slid his arms around her waist and kissed the spot he knew she loved, then added a playful nip to her earlobe for good measure.
She stiffened for a second then relaxed into his embrace with a sigh. “Good morning, Lance. How was work?”
“Work was good, but leaving you last night was hell. How did you sleep?”
He reached down and stroked Daisy, who had been waiting patiently for his attention. “Good morning to you, too, girl. Did you watch over our lady here, like I told you?”
Daisy wagged her tail. She angled her head toward the back door then up at him again.
“Sure. I can take over now. You go out and play.” He opened the door, and the dog bounded down the porch steps.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning, Red. I guess we need to talk.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my plate today, Lance. I have three couples and a single coming tomorrow for the Labor Day holiday. I need to shop and do prep work for the weekend. I’d like to have an afternoon get together in the backyard before everyone heads to the town square for the music, and then the marina for the fireworks on Monday night.”
She plated two eggs over easy, five sausage links, and some hash browns and set the dish in front of his normal seat.
Before she could pour the orange juice, Lance took her in his arms again and kissed her thoroughly until he felt her shoulders relax and her body melt against him. Well, at least some things were still good between them. “Tell me what I can do to help out.”
She leaned back in his embrace and gave him a wicked grin. “Mmm, more of that, please.”
“Your wish is my—” He didn’t finish before her lips were on his and her arms were around his neck. He could get used to this every morning. Oh, yeah.
After a few minutes that left him hard as a rock, and Marjorie breathing heavily, she pushed him away with a sigh. “Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold, soldier.” She joined him at the table with a portion half the size of Lance’s and a cup of tea.
“I do have some good news about work,” he said between bites. “Dev told me that since I’m steady enough to handle daylight again, he’d going to rotate the night shift between Ed, Johnny, and me. Which means,” he added, doing a Groucho Marx with his eyebrows, “I’ll be able to spend all night with you sometimes.”
Marjorie grinned at him, her happiness not completely able to dispel the worry behind her smile. “That is good news, Lance. When will the new rotation start?”
“I’m not sure. Dev said he’d have Amanda figure out the schedule.”
Marjorie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Mandy is great at that sort of thing.”
“She and Dev make a great couple, don’t you think?” Casual, man, keep it casual.
“They do.” She busied herself with pouring more tea.
“It’s an awesome thing when two people fit together so well. That kind of relationship is hard to find these days.”
She gave him a wistful smile. “Your parents had that fit, too, didn’t they?”
Lance nodded. “They did. By the time I was old enough to pay attention, I noticed how often they finished each other’s sentences. Even when they did work around the house or yard it was like watching a dance, they were so in tune to each other’s moves.”
Marjorie sighed.
“I think Dev and Amanda are on that same path,” Lance said.
“True. They seem to
have it all, and I’m happy for them.”
“I’d like us to be a couple like that, too, Red.” And there went casual. She stared at her plate. “I—we–probably should talk more. Can we put this off until after the weekend?” She glanced up again, anguish plain on her face.
“Sure we can. I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not either, right?”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Then, what can I do to help out around here over the weekend?” Besides kissing that worry out of your mind.
“For one thing, since you offered last night, you can take over Daisy duty. I probably should stick around, because chances are good one guest or another will be in and out all day.”
“Consider it done.”
Her smile was back. “I do love . . . having you around, Sir Lance.”
That pause made his heart skip a beat. For a minute there, he thought he would get those three magic words. Close, but no cigar. Still, what she had said gave him hope.
Good thing. Cause I plan on staying. Forever.
The black pick-up tooled down Main Street and made a slow circuit around the town square. It parked in a spot across from the Blue Point Cove Inn, but partially obscured by the white gazebo in the middle of the square. The man inside slouched down in the front seat as though preparing to stay a while.
Half an hour later, a woman in a nondescript silver sedan backed down the driveway, made a K-turn in the street and drove away. The man straightened in his seat and started the truck, preparing to follow her. As he completed two left turns around the square, and passed by the Inn, a guy with a big dog on a leash jogged down the driveway and turned toward the bay.
It would have been too obvious to take a picture as they passed, but the driver took a mental snapshot. Good to know all the players. Then he sped after the woman. He needed to catch up and get a picture he could study at his leisure.
Theirs by Chance Page 13