Amy Maxwell & the 7 Deadly Sins (The Amy Maxwell Series Book 2)

by Heather Balog

  I glance at Jason, the seemingly most trustworthy one of the group. “What the hell happened? Where is Jillian?” I am practically screeching now.

  Another nurse pushes her way over just then. She is smaller and thinner than Nurse B.B., but she is just as vocal and forceful.

  “I regret that I am going to have to ask you gentleman to leave now,” she states in a tone that leads me to believe that she regrets nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, it sounds like she might enjoy bullying formidable and muscular men.

  “No way,” I snap. “No one is going anywhere until I find out what the hell happened out there. How did I get here?” I circle my hand in the air to indicate the hospital room. “And how did you get here?” I pointed at Roger. He cringes as though I have slapped him. I do sound a little bitchy, but helllllllooooo, it’s been a rough night. “And how did you find me to begin with?” I ask Jason. I’m still a little hazy on that detail. I vaguely remember something about River being his cousin? “And Beth! How did she get out of the car? Where are Claudia and Kevin? What was all that gunfire? Is someone hurt?” I am firing questions at the men so fast they actually look dizzy. “And Jillian! Where is Jillian?” In this mess the original reason Beth and I got into this debacle has been swept aside. Somewhere out there is a frightened seven year old waiting for her aunt to pick her up from a playdate! “Nobody is going anywhere till I find out what happened,” I repeat firmly.

  The nurse plants her hands on her hips and gives me an evil eye that I’m sure she reserves only for her misbehaved patients and maybe her own kids and husband. “Oh really,” she remarks while snapping her gum loudly. “So I should tell Ray, the very busy X-ray tech, to wait until you get your stories straight even though this will take exactly two minutes of your precious time?” She points to the burly man in maroon scrubs that are practically bursting at the seams. He’s standing next to a monstrous contraption that I am imagining is the X-ray machine. Ray looks like he wants to eat me for lunch if I tell him to wait.

  “Um, I guess not,” I stammer sheepishly and Jason, Roger, and River all file out of the room.

  “That’s what I thought,” Bitchy nurse remarks as she sweeps the curtain closed after Ray has lumbered into the small space with the clunky machine.

  After a series of grunts and groans (alternately from Ray and me), the X-rays are taken, Ray has left, and my guests file back into the room.

  “So what happened?” I ask again as Bitchy nurse shoves two round blue pills at me. “I don’t want those,” I tell her as I push her hand away.

  “They’re pain pills…prescribed by the doctor,” she snips as if saying the word doctor will explain everything.

  “I don’t care,” I respond. “They’ll make me groggy and I’m already out of it.” The nurse opens her mouth to protest again but I cut her off with, “And if I hit my head, isn’t there a chance I could have a concussion? Wouldn’t it be a bad idea to make me sleepy if I have a concussion?”

  The nurse’s jaw snaps shut and she whirls around and storms out of the cubicle without a word.

  “So what happened?” I ask for what seems to be the millionth time in the last fifteen minutes. I think that I may have developed Tourette’s from the smack to my head.

  All three men are gazing down at me and I have an overwhelming feeling of affection for them all building in my chest. All three of them wear completely conflicting expressions.

  Roger looks nervous, tugging at his remaining tufts of hair. His face is a beet red and he looks like he has been sweating profusely.

  Jason looks quite the opposite…well, no…the opposite would be relaxed. He certainly doesn’t look relaxed. He looks annoyed. Edge of your seat, I just might crush somebody’s skull in annoyed. I can assume the annoyance is directed at me. My fault again for getting involved where I shouldn’t be.

  River appears to be excited, animatedly bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as if he is five years old and we are taking him to a carnival or something. But I guess to a criminal justice major, what has just transpired is a carnival of sorts.

  You’re a criminal justice major. Amy…why did you consider it a carnival? I guess it’s kind of hard to have fun when your life in danger, your sister is being held hostage at gunpoint, and your niece is missing.

  Jason pulls up a chair next to the gurney and for a moment, I think he is going to take my hand. But of course that’s ridiculous. My husband is sitting right here. And believe it or not, he is the one that takes my hand in his and gives it an affectionate squeeze. I stare at him for a second. Could he be trying to get me to have sex with him in the ER? Because the only time Roger makes affectionate overtures is when he’s looking for sex.

  I shake off the thought as Jason begins to explain what has transpired while I was taking my ill-timed nap.

  “Well I explained to you that River is my cousin,” Jason started to say, but Roger interrupts him.

  “And who exactly are you?” he asks in his principal voice. And then I recall, Jason and Roger have never met face to face. What Roger knows about Jason is what I’ve told him. Even when Jason lived across the street (briefly) Roger never seemed to run into him. It was only me who ran into him (sometimes on purpose but…don’t judge me).

  “Agent Jason Collins,” Jason replies, stretching his arm across my body to offer Roger a hand. Roger accepts his hand and begins pumping it until Jason finishes his introduction. “I can’t believe we never formally met. We lived across the street from each other for several months-”

  Roger drops Jason’s hand like it is on fire. “Oh yes. I’ve heard about you,” he remarks dryly while staring me down. His eyes say to me, I’ve heard everything except for how good looking you are. Yes, I may have left out that teensy detail while telling Roger about Jason Collins. In fact, I think I may have even painted a picture of an elderly hunchbacked grandfather rather than the more accurate one of a very physically fit and drop dead gorgeous Jason Collins.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot you two never met,” I reply in a voice that I hope sounds casual. I don’t add I had hoped you two would never meet.

  “So anyway,” Jason is continuing while ignoring the death ray stares from Roger (he has practice in ignoring death ray stares…he has a teenager, too). “River called me when he got your frantic phone message-”

  Roger cuts him off again. “Yeah why did you call River and not me?” He sounds hurt and now River is getting one of Roger’s looks.

  Oh Lord. Is Jealousy a deadly sin? ‘Cuz Roger is rocking the jealousy thing right now. He even looks a little green around the edges. I’ve never even seen him act jealous…not even when we were dating and I was actually in shape and had a fairly decent body and my hair wasn’t falling out from stress and kids pulling on it. Men occasionally used to look at me when I bent over in a low cut shirt or I was wearing a sexy wrap dress. Roger never even seemed to notice back then. Now he’s jealous of a nineteen year old who thinks of me as a mother figure? Seriously?

  “I called River instead of you, Roger, because I was trapped in a tight spot, aka the trunk of Claudia Fox’s car and my hands could barely grasp my phone. I couldn’t dial or see my phone well enough to scroll down the contact list so I just hit the redial button. I hadn’t even realized that I had my phone on me until it started buzzing and I thought that it was you calling me because you finally realized that I was gone and I wasn’t coming back with pizza. When did you realize I had been gone for hours, Roger? When Evan needed to be wiped or Allie had a meltdown?” I smirk at Roger and he turns red, casting his eyes downward at the wrinkled sheets on the gurney. Good, serves him right.

  “River had apparently been the last person to call me,” I continue to explain.

  Roger’s neck snaps up. “Wait a minute. Why were you calling my wife in the middle of the night?” Roger glowers in River’s direction while squeezing my hand tightly.

  River is undaunted by Roger’s obvious accusations. It doesn’t even occur to t
he dear boy that his friendship with me might be considered odd by societal standards. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, dude. It was like 9:30,” River explains.

  “And midnight probably wouldn’t even be considered the middle of the night for a young college kid, anyway. He’s not like you, Roger…fast asleep in your chair as soon as the sun is gone from the sky,” I add venomously. I know, I know…my mean spirited attitude is totally uncalled for. But I really don’t appreciate the insinuations that anything illicit is going on between me and River. I mean really…River? I can see Jason, but has Roger looked at River? Totally not my type. I mean, not that Jason is my type or anything but…

  “Listen, I bust my butt five days a week getting up at the crack of dawn-” Roger is interjecting defensively as he completely drops my numb hand. Ouch, he really had a tight grip on it.

  “Wait a minute! Where are the kids?” I suddenly ask in an ADHD moment. Beth’s kid isn’t the only one absent from this equation.

  Roger sheepishly replies, “Well I left them home with Allie. I didn’t know how long…”

  “In the middle of the night? Are you crazy, Roger? And she can’t even be trusted in the middle of the day anymore! Why just the other day I saw her kissing some guy on a motorcycle and then yesterday she had boy in her room-”

  Roger’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Jason interrupts. “We’re getting off topic here folks.” He stares at Roger pointedly in a police interrogator sort of way. I expect Roger to shrink back under Jason’s stern glare but Roger holds his gaze. I guess all his interactions with badly behaved teenagers are causing him to not be intimidated by big strong authoritative men like Jason.

  I also ignore Jason and proceed to answer Roger’s question instead. “I didn’t get the chance to! I was on a wild goose chase for my niece! Did you even notice I was missing?” I am practically hyperventilating at this point.

  “I’ll have you know, I did realize you were gone a long time, Amy. In fact, I noticed it rather quickly when the children were whining about being hungry. I sent you half a dozen text messages, but I never heard back from you.”

  I glance at my phone on the small nightstand next to the gurney. I turned my text message alert off earlier in the day when I was taking the test in class because I didn’t want Laura or anyone else to mistakenly text me and have Professor Jerkoff accuse me of cheating. I must have forgotten to turn it back on. Damn, that feels like it was a hundred years ago.

  “I tried texting you, too,” River remarks. “That’s why I ended up calling you.”

  “And that’s another thing. How do you have my wife’s phone number? Why are you calling my wife anyway? Do you have a thing for my wife?” Roger is becoming incensed and making the word wife sound like a swear word. I can see beads of sweat popping out along his hairline and that vein on his neck bulging (just like the time Colt punted a football in the backyard and sent it sailing into the tray of steaks Roger was bringing inside from the grill). Misty ran off with our dinner that night and Roger had to pop a nitroglycerin pill.

  River looks perplexed now. “Dude, she’s in my Intro class. And…ewww.”

  I jerk my head back flat on the pillow. Well excuse me…that’s rather insulting, River.

  I must have made my lemon sucking face because River glances at me and stammers, “Not that she’s not a hot babe or anything…it’s just she’s like my mother and…” He trails off realizing almost everything he has said is insulting in one form or another. “I’ll shut up now,” he says as his previously chalk white face turns beet red. Roger is still glaring at him.

  “River is in my Intro to Criminal Justice class, Roger,” I finally say. “He has been quite helpful to me. The first day he saved me from getting completely lost on campus.” I don’t mention the fact that he was practically hired by Jason to babysit me.

  “How come you haven’t mentioned him before?” Roger asks in a triumphant voice as if he is Matlock or Perry Mason.

  “I don’t know, Roger. Do you tell me everyone you interact with on a regular basis?” I am becoming annoyed. This grilling is diverting the conversation from the actual matter at hand. What just happened with Beth? How did we get to the hospital with Beth relatively unscathed? And for fuck’s sake, where is Jillian? My lip starts to quiver as I recall Beth was about to tell me Jillian is…and then she was cut off. Is she dead? I don’t think I can bear the thought. My lip quivers as I nearly start sobbing.

  Finally River takes pity on me and starts rubbing my back. “It’s ok. Jillian is ok. She’s with her father right now.”

  “Oh thank God!” I am visibly shaking and I feel like I’m going to vomit again, but this time from relief.

  “Hey,” Roger interrupts. “I’ll rub my wife’s back if you don’t mind.” Through my tears I can see Roger edging River out of the way. “And I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t call her in the future either.”

  “I was only calling Amy because you were calling me!” River finally accuses as he points at Roger.

  I am certain that my ears must be malfunctioning. Roger was calling River? Why would Roger be calling River? How hard did I bump my head?

  It is my turn to glare at Roger now. “Why would you be…how would you be…what were you-” I am stammering and can’t even seem to form a coherent sentence.

  “He called me ten times tonight and left messages on my voice mail. All he did was breathe into the phone real heavy like he was some pervert stalker. He never left his name or even said anything, so I got really freaked out and googled the number. When I found out it was registered to a Roger Maxwell, I put two and two together and figured it was probably your husband’s phone. I was worried something had happened to you so I was calling you to check up on you. When your phone went right to voice mail, I got really nervous.”

  “What did you think? That I had her tied up or something?” Roger remarks angrily.

  “Well not-”

  “I was tied up, Roger. I really actually was tied up,” I point out. “But why were you calling River? And where did you get his number from?”

  Roger turns a crimson color and stares back down at the bed sheets. “The other day you were in the shower and I was in the bedroom. Your phone was charging on your dresser and it buzzed. I glanced at it and saw a strange number and a message. It said, hey you want to meet up tomorrow after class?”

  River slaps his thigh. “See? I told you I sent a text and you never answered.”

  I stare at him for a second trying to figure out what he’s talking about. When did he say he sent me a text?

  River senses my confusion because he explains, “Remember when I told you this afternoon that I sent you a text over the weekend to see if you wanted to get together after class to work on the group project and you told me you never got it?”

  My memory of this conversation is coming back in bits and pieces. “That was this afternoon?” I squawk incredulously.

  “Well, actually yesterday afternoon,” River comments as he glances down at his watch. “It’s 12:30 now.”

  “And why is it I didn’t get this message?” I ask Roger, my eyes narrowing and my brow furrowing.

  “Um, er, well I didn’t want you meeting this guy so I deleted it…” Roger absentmindedly traces little circles on the sheet with his index finger.

  “How did you know River was a guy? It could have been a girl, er, woman! It’s a very gender neutral name!”

  I am furious. As a rule, I don’t snoop in Roger’s life. If he wants to talk about work, I let him. I don’t pry or meddle and I respect his personal space. I don’t read his emails or his texts or listen suspiciously in on his phone calls. It has never even occurred to me to do anything like that. I just never suspected him of any sort of illicit activity. Sure he stares at pretty girls and all that but I know when push comes to shove, he would never be able to hold a conversation with an attractive woman. I once watched him stare at a woman’
s boobs during an entire conversation at a Christmas party because he was afraid to look at her face. He would never be able to pull the trigger and cheat on me or carry out an affair, a fact which I guess I have taken for granted. It never even dawned on me that he would consider me capable of doing that though. I’m not sure if I should be flattered or highly insulted. Flattered because he would think someone else would actually find me desirable and insulted that he would think that I would toss aside my marriage vows that easily.

  Well, you did kiss Jason in the woods last year, Amy. My lovely little angel on my shoulder is so quick to remind me of my transgression. That’s different! That was an extremely stressful situation. That kiss was simply a reaction to fear and uncertainty… I am trying to justify my one incident of straying as my conscience reminds me, but you fantasize about him almost every day, don’t you, Amy?

  “Oh, shut up!” I mutter, causing all three men to stare at me. Embarrassed by my unnecessary outburst I stare down at my left hand and smooth it over the blanket.

  “I didn’t know,” Roger is explaining. Oh yes, right. Why he thought I was scheming behind his back with River. “But you’ve been acting really weird lately so my mind started coming up with all these scenarios.”

  “What do you mean by weird?” I accuse, glancing up at Roger sharply.

  His cheeks are still pink, but I can see the colored circle get darker. “I just mean you haven’t been yourself. You know with stuff in the house and the bedroom…” His voice trails off.

  Does he mean sex? Really? Really? Really? I’m annoyed until Roger clarifies.

  “Well, you’ve been forgetting things. Like my khakis haven’t been clean and you didn’t pack me lunch last week…” Now I’m not annoyed. I am incensed.

  “Are you kidding me, Roger? I’m trying to run a household, raise four kids, go back to school…and you can’t even do a few little minor things for yourself?” I am sitting further and further up on the bed, ignoring the shooting pain through my foot. “And the first thing you think is that I’m cheating on you?”