Wounded at Work

by Mitzi Pool Bridges

  When she entered the elevator, the blonde turned and he saw her face. She looked familiar. As he rode the next one up to Carrie’s floor, it hit him. Carrie was in one of her disguises. And as well as he knew her, she had fooled him.

  What was she doing out past midnight in disguise? Where had she been? Who had she been with? These were questions that would never have entered his mind two weeks ago.

  When he knocked on her door, his gut was in knots. If he asked questions, she would clam up or tell him it was none of his business. She’d be right. Still, he wanted to make Carrie his business.

  She pulled the door open before he could ring the doorbell, her face a mask of disapproval. “Have you been following me?”

  Carrie was gorgeous in her blonde getup, but she didn’t look herself. He never realized before how much he liked her long, red hair, and green eyes. Blonde and blue just didn’t cut it. “No. Should I be?”

  “Don’t be funny.”

  She turned, kicked off her shoes, and stomped to the living area. “Then, why are you here?”

  “I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

  “Oh!”

  “I was way out of line, and I’m sorry. I had no idea I would be so late getting back to headquarters, and I didn’t know you would be treated like a criminal.”

  “Really! You held a gun on me. So did your buddies. How else would they treat me?”

  “Please. Will you forgive me?”

  He went to her, took her by the shoulder, and gently turned her to face him. She looked up at him, her blue eyes furious. “I’m so sorry, Carrie.”

  “You should be.” She moved away, pulled off her wig, ruffled her hair, popped her colored lenses from her eyes, and put them on the table by the sofa.

  “You look beautiful in red, Carrie.”

  “I’m tired, Matt. I accept your apology. You can leave now.”

  He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to take this remarkable woman to bed and make love the rest of the night. She’d probably flip him on his ass if he so much as suggested such a thing.

  She was so beautiful his breath caught in his throat and his heart ached at what she had gone through because of him. “I made a mistake, and I’m sorry.”

  No smile.

  He went to her. Pulled her close. “I screwed up, Carrie. Please don’t hold it against me.”

  “I told you…”

  He couldn’t stop himself. His lips touched hers and all thought left. He wanted to sink into her. Devour her. Surprised when her response was acceptance, he deepened the kiss, ran his hands up her almost-bare back and reveled in her softness. Every inch of her melded to his body. This woman was made for him. Desire escalated. He wanted to touch more of her. He put his hands on her breasts. She moaned—and the sound made him want to examine every inch—taste and explore. She filled his mind. Filled his senses until there were no thoughts other than Carrie—the taste, feel, and scent of her overpowering everything else.

  She reached for his shirt, tried to unbutton it. Couldn’t. He pulled it off, heard buttons pop. He couldn’t wait to feel her next to him.

  He loved her. Needed her. And she needed him. He pressed closer, edged the red off the left shoulder and down her arm until she jerked away, bunched the silky material in her hand and tried to cover herself.

  “Carrie?” He held her, pushed the gown aside to follow the scars. Then pulled her to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He felt like all kinds of a fool. No wonder she couldn’t hold her hand up any higher when he had a gun on her. “I’m so sorry. You must hate me.”

  In a flurry of twisting and turning, she pulled her gown up over her arm. “I don’t hate you. But I think you need to leave now.”

  Her voice was low and raspy, as if she could hardly get the words out.

  “I have no intention of leaving.” Though she had her scars hidden once more, he gently ran a hand up her side. “What you must have gone through. And I didn’t have an ounce of consideration. I’ll never forgive myself.”

  ****

  Why had she let this go so far? Being in Matt’s arms, kissing him, feeling his hardness, was better than her dreams. And she wanted more. What was wrong with her? “Don’t waste your pity on me.”

  “Pity? Honey, I have so much admiration for you and what you’ve achieved, I can’t put it into words. You’re brave, smart, accomplished, and beautiful. I can’t think of anyone I admire more. I am in awe of you.”

  She squinted, tried to read him to see if he was telling the truth. As far as she could tell, he was.

  All well and good, but this could go no further. She was a mongrel to his blue-blood lineage. As a child, she had been locked in closets. Matt had had the world at his feet. It ended here and now. She tossed her head. “See that you stay that way.”

  He looked into her eyes. She hoped he saw the teasing and not the regret.

  As he tried to take her into his arms again, she moved back. “We’re good friends, Matt. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Sorry. I thought we had moved past that stage.”

  “Think again.” She said it with a smile, and hoped he believed her. If things were different, they would be in bed right now.

  He took her hand. “Carrie, I’ll always be your friend. But I want more.”

  “That can’t be.”

  “Why not? We’ve known each other long enough to take our relationship to the next level.”

  No. No. No. She put her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t know her history.

  Matt took her hands and pulled them away from her face. “Talk to me, Carrie. Tell me what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head.

  Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa. “Friends are there for friends, Carrie. I’m here for you. Talk to me.”

  She had told her story to her dear friend, Doc. Dare she bare her soul to Matt? Should she? If he knew the real Carrie, he would be convinced she wasn’t the woman for him.

  Taking a ragged breath she began. “My parents were alcoholics. They didn’t drink from five in the evening until they went to bed; they drank from the time they got up until they fell into bed too drunk to stand. By the time I started school, I was taking care of myself in every way. I fixed my breakfast, which most mornings was a peanut butter sandwich. I fixed another for lunch, and most nights that was what I had before I went to bed. When there was no food in the house, it was my fault, and I was put in the closet—sometimes for hours—sometimes longer. Soon after I started school, I thought my parents had changed. There was milk in the fridge, cereal and fruit, boxes of mac and cheese, along with a variety of canned soup. There were even new clothes on the bed on occasion. I was so excited. But nothing else changed. They were the same drunks. And my dad found other reasons to hide me away in the closet.

  “It wasn’t until I was twelve that I saw our neighbor, Ms. Jackson, her arms full of bags, unlocking the door to our house, and going inside. I followed her in and watched as she put groceries on their proper shelves. I asked what was she doing.

  “Ms. Jackson jumped a foot, turned, and with startled eyes and a guilty look, simply stared. She finished putting the groceries away before she sat down at the table to tell me she owed me an explanation. That’s when I found out my mom’s parents had disowned her when she married Dad. My grandmother was too ill to go to court and take me away from them, but didn’t want her granddaughter to die of hunger because of two drunks. She paid my neighbor to buy groceries and clothes. She even paid the rent on the run-down trailer I called home.

  “My dream that my parents would wake up one day and stop drinking, died then. I told Ms. Jackson I wanted to see my grandmother. She promised to take me Saturday.

  “But when Saturday rolled around, it was too late. My grandmother had died in her sleep. Her will left enough for the kind neighbor to continue with her weekly grocery run, buy me a few clothes, and keep the rent paid. She kept me alive until I entered high school, when I lied about
my age and got a job at the corner grocery store. By then, I was too big to be put in the closet. I told my neighbor I could handle the finances from then on, but she continued to bring me things: a few pairs of socks, a pretty blouse.

  “I told her she didn’t have to do it, but she just smiled and told me I was her only family.

  “The day I graduated, I went to see Ms. Jackson. I told her she had saved my life, but her job was done. I thanked her and told her I had joined the Army and wouldn’t be back. When I told her to keep whatever money there was left of my grandmother’s, she ducked her head. That’s when I knew the money had run out a long time ago.

  “The two of them saved my life. I don’t know where I would be now if not for her, and a grandmother I never met.”

  Matt cleared his throat. “Where is Ms. Jackson now?”

  “She passed away before I got hurt in the Army. We wrote to each other until then. Hers were the only letters I received.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “They were drunk when their car hit a tree and killed them. They were never parents to me, so I refused the Army’s offer to send me home for their funeral. The only family I had was Ms. Jackson.”

  “I’m so sorry about your childhood. The closet?” He swallowed and Carrie could tell he was thinking of that small room with no windows where she’d waited for him for hours. “I’m sorry all over again.” He shut his eyes. Took deep breaths. “How can I make it up to you?”

  “You didn’t know. Forget it.”

  “Then tell me something?”

  Carrie sat with her hands clamped together in her lap.

  “What does your story have to do with our relationship?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

  “Not to me.”

  “It’s simple, Matt. You deserve more than someone with so much baggage.”

  He reached over and shook her shoulders. “I’m glad you told me about your past. But nothing you told me has convinced me we can’t move forward. I want you, Carrie. I’ve never wanted another woman as much. I care for, and respect you. If you won’t give us a chance, I’ll accept your wishes, but I won’t be happy about it.”

  “I’m not either, Matt. But it is what it is, so why put ourselves through a hot romance, only to break it off and lose a wonderful friendship?”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but Carrie put a finger over his lips, then kissed him lightly.

  Matt stood, bringing her with him. “Is this what you want?”

  “It’s the way it has to be.”

  He kissed her forehead and walked out the door without a backward glance.

  Her heart shattered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Carrie awoke the next morning feeling sluggish and out of sorts. Turning Matt down had done a number on her. She’d wanted to wrap herself around that hard body and head for the bedroom. She wanted what she couldn’t have.

  Sure, they could have a hot and heavy affair, but that was all. And she wasn’t sure she would survive once it ended.

  A quick glance at the clock told her it was already ten. She hadn’t planned on sleeping this late. Getting up, she put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt she normally exercised in, and went to work. If nothing else, the moves would clear her head. By the time she finished, it was time to turn into Cassandra Kane. When she walked out of the apartment an hour and forty-five minutes later, in the black-and-white number she’d bought the other day, her blonde wig in place, she had to force herself into her Cassandra persona.

  Today wouldn’t be easy. She would meet Reed and see if she could tempt some useful information out of him, change clothes, and see what was going on at Magee’s, then head to Coop’s. For the first time, she didn’t relish the idea of getting together with the gang. She wasn’t sure she could sit at the table and play poker with Matt an entire evening and not combust.

  You can do it. Just pretend you are someone else.

  Smiling, she realized she could do that. Who would she be? Over the years, she had taken on the personas of dozens of women. Shy ones, slutty ones, sweet ones, smart, and dumb ones. Which would she be tonight?

  She was still smiling when she walked into the hotel. The minute she entered the bar, Reed, like a heat-seeking missile, stood and came toward her. “I thought you were going to stand me up.”

  Carrie looked at her watch. “I’m five minutes late. Are you one of those men who demand punctuality?”

  Reed laughed as he led her to his table. “Drink?”

  “Sure. But I should warn you, I missed breakfast and lunch, so feeding me is going to cost you.”

  The waiter took her order and left.

  “You look lovely. I have a feeling you always do.”

  “What a nice thing to say.”

  The waiter put a frosty glass of club soda on the table. Reed raised his glass of wine. “What shall we drink to?”

  “How about a productive Saturday?”

  “Sounds good to me.” They touched glasses.

  Carrie leaned across the table. “Tell me more about yourself. I’m fascinated with this inheritance you told me about.”

  Too much, too soon. Reed looked as if he was going to shut down again. He shrugged his broad shoulders and she was reminded of Matt.

  Stop thinking of him. You have a job to do.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger about things. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  They moved to the dining room and placed their lunch orders before resuming their conversation. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m reluctant to talk about it.” He chuckled and her skin crawled. Nope, not like Matt at all. “My attorney has given me strict orders. I’m not to discuss the case with anyone.”

  She would get nothing more from Reed. “Then we’ll talk of other things.”

  Their meal came. And though Carrie hadn’t eaten all day, the knots in her stomach wouldn’t allow her to eat much.

  She brought their date short, made an excuse to leave, and got out of there. Though they settled on another time to meet next week, hell would freeze over before she kept it. Reed’s greed made her ill. Cassandra Kane would disappear and never be seen or heard from again.

  The difference between Matt and Reed was stunning. And she couldn’t wait to fill Matt in tonight.

  She had the taxi drop her off at Doc’s.

  Doc wasn’t in, so she made a quick change out of her Cassandra persona and into her biker duds. Before she headed for Magee’s, she took her guns out of the trunk and put them where they belonged. Now, she felt better. Maybe Benjie would tell her more about Hank. There was definitely something going on and she wanted to know what it was and how it pertained to her missing person.

  She would watch and listen before she started asking questions.

  The Saturday crowd was there early and half the tables were filled by the time Carrie got there. Both Hank and Benjie were on duty. Benjie frowned when he saw her, but Hank made a beeline her way. “What will it be, pretty lady?”

  She gave him a bored look. “My usual.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “If you were here more often, you would know. Club soda with lots of ice.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “You were supposed to tell me about a job. Since I haven’t heard from you, I’m re-upping next week.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  She pulled back. “Why not?” The guy might be easy on the eyes, but there was something about him that set off bells and whistles. She would make this visit short.

  “I asked a couple of guys I know if they needed office help. One is in the market for a receptionist, another for a file clerk. Are you interested?”

  “Sounds duller than unpolished silver.”

  Hank laughed. “You may be right. I also know a guy who owns a first class Gentlemen’s Club. He’s always looking for new talent.”

  She took a sip
of her drink. “Not interested.”

  He spread his hands. “I’m doing my best. What would you like to do?”

  She leaned across the counter. “How about drive an eighteen-wheeler, or be a lineman for the phone company?”

  Hank stepped back. “Tough work.”

  “I can handle it.”

  She pulled out the photo of Amy Strong. “I’ve been looking for my friend for a while now and can’t find her. Have you seen her around?”

  He took the photo. “Can’t say I have.”

  “That’s strange. Benjie says she and her friend Lizzy were regulars.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is that so? They must have come in when I wasn’t here.”

  “You’re not here often. Why is that?”

  Hank shut down.

  She could see the barriers thrown shut and locked tight. “Time for me to roll.” She waved at Benjie and left.

  There was more to Hank than met the eye. She wondered if by some chance, he had anything to do with Matt’s case.

  She didn’t want to think he could be a kidnapper, or a killer. But someone had taken Matt’s victims and killed them. And Carrie had a sinking feeling Amy had been kidnapped as well.

  Could her case and Matt’s be connected?

  How could they? Matt’s victims had red hair and green eyes. His killer wouldn’t be interested in a blue-eyed blonde. She started her Harley and slowly left the parking area.

  It was getting late, and she didn’t have time to change clothes if she wanted to get to Coop’s before they ate. Since she had eaten virtually nothing all day, she couldn’t wait to see what Shorty had come up with. And just thinking of Lanie’s mouthwatering desserts, made her taste buds sit up and pay attention.

  Matt would be there, and she wondered how that would work out. Would she look at him and want to kiss him? Would he look at her as he had in her apartment, as if he could devour her whole? She went weak at the thought. A horn blew. She had to pay better attention to what she was doing.