Toxic

by Debra Jupe

  He hooked his thumbs into his jean pockets. “I should go.”

  Her body jerked as if he’d punched her in the stomach.

  “I don’t want to draw you anymore into this. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” He strolled to a window facing the front of the house and peeked through the blinds.

  Twilight had settled, but the neighborhood appeared busy. Like most people who lived in Texas, residents took advantage of the later, summer hours to mow their laws, take evening walks, or just enjoy the outdoors after the heat had tapered to tolerable. He turned to Gracie, taking in the comforts of the tranquil room and the lovely woman in the middle of it all. He wished he didn’t have to leave—but he needed to be realistic. He’d never be able to stay with her.

  “How nosey are the neighbors?”

  “Some are real snoops. Plus we’ve had several break-in’s lately, so everyone is on high alert.”

  “Glad we parked in the garage. The last thing either of us needs is someone seeing me on the news and then seeing me here.”

  “True. The lady next door came by the other day for me to show her how to work the camera on her phone. I’ve also heard a lot of people are installing video recorders around their houses, and of course, many are getting their concealed handgun license.”

  “Great. A bunch of Special Forces wannabes.”

  “Everyone has worked hard for what they have, and they want to protect their stuff.” She gazed at him. “You realize your hiding only makes you look guilty.”

  Ethan didn’t respond. How could he, when she was right on?

  He returned to her, standing several feet from the sofa. She watched him, as if waiting for him to explain. “There are worse things to worry about as opposed to the perception of others. Even if the law is concerned.” He took a moment to process his thoughts. “Thanks for your help today, by the way. One day, when all of this is over, you can tell me why you showed up at my house.”

  Gracie continued to look at him. “As soon as you explain your involvement.”

  A fierce heat smoldered in her eyes. The green in her irises deepened. She wanted something from him. Something he shouldn’t consider. Without thinking, he marched to her, kneeling down beside her. His mouth captured hers. She pressed her lips into his in return, her palms slid over his chest and settled around his neck. The kiss slowly deepened, his tongue firmly inside her mouth, devouring her sweet taste. He inhaled her scent, feminine, fresh like the summer air. Intoxicating. How easy it would be to get lost in her, letting his lives roadblocks disappear. Another night of skin on skin would alleviate him from everything, if only for a short time.

  His hand slipped under her shirt, working his way past her bra to find her breast. He rubbed and pulled. His fingers caught her nipple and twisted the tip molding the mound into a wonderful, tight point. A heated throb pulsated between his legs. He was almost a goner. If he didn’t stop now, it’d be too late. He had to end this.

  Breathless, he abruptly removed his hand and pushed her away. “Sorry.”

  Her expression looked confused and hurt.

  He placed his palms on her shoulders and squeezed. “We can’t.” He nodded toward the dining room. “But if that were possible, I’d have you naked and on that table in a heartbeat.”

  Ethan swiped his lips across hers, the back of his hand brushed against her protruding nipple as he stood. Reluctantly, he moved further away.

  “I really need to leave, Gracie.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Haven’t figured that out yet.” His lips twisted, both knew full well he wouldn’t reveal his intended location. “Can I borrow your cell phone? I’ve turned mine off and removed the battery so I can’t be traced. I’d rather not reconnect it, especially if someone can track me here.”

  “I keep it in my purse. And my bag is still inside my truck, in the backseat on the floorboard.”

  “Thought business owners were never without their phones.”

  “I’m usually not.” Then she grinned. “Not true, actually. Í keep it with me during work hours, but it stays out of reach when I’m home. More peaceful that way. But I wouldn’t mind having it near now that my mobility is limited.”

  “I’ll bring everything to you when I’m finished.”

  He left her and walked through the kitchen and into the garage. Inside, he wiggled past an assortment of lawn equipment and bags of fertilizers and such, trying to manipulate his body to her vehicle without knocking things over or injuring himself.

  Evidently she used the enclosure as an extension for business storage, leaving only enough space for her pickup. Because of his size, he had a difficult time wedging between the mass, but movement wasn’t as hard as when he’d arrived, carrying Gracie.

  He opened the backdoor and sat on the warm, leather seat. Going through her handbag was a different journey altogether. How she found anything in the multitude of what he was certain she’d claim as necessities was beyond him. He searched until almost to the point of dumping the whole thing in the seat, finally discovering her cell in a side pocket, the most logical choice to keep it, although obvious didn’t seemed to fit her.

  He pushed seven buttons, and then put the cell to his ear. It rang only once.

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s me,” Ethan said.

  “I figured. Confiscated someone else’s phone?”

  “In a manner of speaking. You saw the news?”

  “I saw.”

  “Deputies showed up at my place.” Ethan glanced at the house. “Along with another unwelcome visitor.”

  “Shit.”

  “Only a matter of time before they send out the big guns. I need you to come get me and help me find a place to lay low since the powers that be refuse to let me leave town.”

  “I’ve already got a hideout set up. I was just waiting for your call so I can come get you.”

  “Good. But wait till it’s a little darker before you do. Too many people outside.”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be too noticeable. Where are you?”

  He swiped his tongue across his mouth. Gracie’s sweetness still lingered on his lips. “You know.”

  “Yeah.” There was a huge sigh. “So much for not getting involved.”

  Ethan pushed the off button and deleted the number before he collapsed into the seat. “So much.”

  Chapter 14

  The next day, Gracie slowly mounted her office steps, trying to disregard the sense of dread she’d been feeling since she and Ethan separated. For most of the night, she stayed glued to the media outlets, hoping for good news, but thus far all reports had been non-informative, speculative, or negative.

  She entered the main area making sure she hid her slight limp. She’d kept ice on the ankle all night. The swelling had gone down, just as Ethan had said it would. For precaution, she took a handful of ibuprofen in case, but if she miss-stepped, she felt a bit a twang.

  “Morning, Betty.”

  Her secretary shoved her tablet away, and studied Gracie as she walked further inside. “Oh, honey, how are you?”

  “I’m okay,” she replied, knowing her answer wouldn’t reassure.

  The local news had plastered Ethan’s photo all over the television. They’d also splashed his picture across the front page of the newspaper, and the article had even hit the internet and gone viral.

  “You are?” Betty rose to follow Gracie into her office. “Suspicions about your boyfriend are being broadcasts from here to Jupiter and beyond. The police want to talk to him.” She eyed Gracie. “Except he’s disappeared.”

  “I’ve seen the coverage too, Betty.” She hurried behind her desk, standing motionless. A stack of folders lay in front of her. She picked up the pile and moved them to another spot for something to do while she suffered through Betty’s interrogation.

  “What part did you play in his vanishing act?”

  “None.” Gracie glanced away to avoid eye contact. “I don’t know
where he is.”

  Betty frowned, her expression showed she didn’t believe her. “Do you suppose he murdered Mike?”

  “I’m unsure what to think.” Gracie sighed. “Wait. I’m certain he didn’t kill anyone, but is he mixed up somehow?” She lifted a shoulder.

  Betty lowered into a chair, still watching her. “Your association could be bad for business.”

  “We’re not involved, per say.” Gracie dropped to her seat. “Our relationship is new. I shouldn’t be too caught up in his mess.”

  “I’m not talking about your weekend of delight, missy.” Betty leaned forward, lowering her voice. “No one saw you with him yesterday, did they?”

  Gracie’s eyes widened. The woman was telepathic or she had spies. Either way she was spooky.

  “Don’t bother denying it.”

  “Fine. I went to his place.” She did more, but she wouldn’t go there. She’d never hear the end of it. Plus she ran the risk of Betty telling her mother, and all hell would break loose. The fact she was forty didn’t sway Betty or her mom from holding back their opinions on anything, especially concerning her love life. “We spoke, but he left soon after. I have no idea where he went once we separated.”

  “You need to stay away from that young man. You may be wrong about him. He might hurt you.”

  “He won’t,” Gracie insisted with exaggerated confidence.

  Ethan hadn’t done anything to harm her physically, and she doubted he would, even after his nightmare diabolical. On an emotional level the man was killing her. Yet, she couldn’t make herself walk away from him.

  The buzz of her cell phone saved her from anymore of Betty’s cross-examination.

  “Hi Krystal.”

  Betty rose from her chair to leave, shutting the door behind her.

  “Hey girl.” Krystal sighed from the other end. “Got some news about Mike’s murder. Thought I’d give you a heads up.”

  “What now?”

  “I’m assuming you caught the media avalanche about Ethan missing and him being a suspect in Mike’s death.”

  “How could I not?”

  “Right. Some semi-good news. He turned himself into the police last night.”

  “He did?”

  “They’re holding him. I don’t know for how long.”

  Gracie’s heart sank. “He didn’t do this, Krystal.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first.” Krystal paused. “Except some new details surfaced.”

  Gracie gripped the phone to keep her hand from trembling. “What kind of details?”

  “I can’t say right now. We’re at the nursery. Why don’t you swing by after work? We’ll talk and maybe come up with some answers.”

  “I’ll leave early.”

  ****

  Gracie stepped inside the nursery office using the backdoor. Heated murmurs came from the main work place. It sounded like people arguing. She walked to the doorway and stood. Krystal, Quinn, and Vivian sat at the lunch table, heads together, speaking in an animated low-toned conversation.

  She strolled into the room. “Am I interrupting?”

  Krystal jumped from her chair, while the others stared, surprised by her appearance. Her friend ran to her, and threw her arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “Hey girl. How are you?”

  Gracie gave her a tight smile. “I’m…here.”

  “As we all are.” Krystal waved a hand at a chair at the break table where Quinn and Vivian remained seated. “Sit.”

  Gracie pulled out an ancient, lime green, vinyl chair, allowing her sudden wobbly legs to collapse. “You’re open?”

  “Not yet.” Vivian wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Mike’s will hasn’t been read. We assume Mickey will inherit the business since he’s worked here forever.”

  “Work is a loose term, unless something changed,” Gracie said, dryly.

  “You’ve got that right.” Vivian adjusted the half-filled box of tissue in front of her. “Mike thought he was a frickin’ genius. Mickey seems to presume the nursery will be his too since his brother never bothered with the place.”

  “He’s sure he’s the beneficiary. He’s asked us to come in to answer phones, take care of the plants, and keep up with the paper work while we’re shut down,” Krystal explained.

  Gracie glanced at her friend. “At least you won’t be out of a job.”

  “True. But I’ll be more comfortable being here after Mike’s killer is behind bars.” Krystal picked up a pen and tapped the end against a legal pad lying in front of her.

  “Ethan’s in jail.” Quinn’s tone sounded satisfied. “The murderer is where he belongs as far as I’m concerned.”

  Gracie lifted her chin a smidgen higher. “Ethan didn’t do it.”

  Vivian’s brows shot up.

  “Oh Gracie.” Quinn shook her head, wearing a pitied expression. “One night with him, and he’s gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

  Gracie squelched her sudden rising anger, realizing Quinn’s attitude could be spun from jealously. Still, she found it difficult to keep her temper in check.

  “Nothing of the kind, Quinn,” she lied. “Instincts tell me he isn’t the killer. I trust my gut. This man is not the murderer.” She suspected her friends believed otherwise, but she was almost sure Ethan wasn’t guilty.

  Quinn lips turned upward. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He must be a hell of a lay.”

  “Zip it, Quinn.” Vivian flapped a wet tissue in her direction. “You were hot for the guy, and he never showed any interest in you. You’re just pissed.”

  Quinn opened her mouth, then twisted her lips. “I’m saying what the police believe.”

  “Really?” Vivian’s brows rose. “You sure are quick to pin this on Ethan. He rejected you, and you could be setting him up. Mike was awfully upset over Ethan’s fumigation diabolical. He even talked about firing you. Are the cops aware you have good reasons to be considered a suspect?”

  Quinn shot out of her seat, pushing the chair so hard it fell backward, crashing to the floor with a bang. “All right.” She balled a fist, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. “You and me. Outside.”

  “Such violent tendencies.” Vivian shook her head as she slowly rose to her feet. “But I can kick your sorry ass with one boot.”

  Gracie leaned closer to Krystal. “I thought they were friends.”

  “It’s a loathe, hate kind of relationship. We’re in hate mode at the moment. All right,” Krystal interrupted. “This isn’t why we’re here. Arguing over stupid stuff won’t solve anything. Both of you sit down.”

  Quinn stopped, bending to pick up her chair. Her glare remained glued to Vivian as she scooted her seat underneath the table.

  “Thank you,” Krystal said, though she sounded annoyed. “This whole situation saddens me. Mike’s death, an employee possibly accused of killing him, and now this.” She looked at Gracie. “Do you remember what the approximate times you were with Ethan over the weekend?”

  “Um, all night Friday, and we were together up until about four on Saturday. We separated for a few hours, and he returned about ten.” She frowned at Krystal. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I hoped you’d be his alibi.” Krystal’s gaze dropped to her pad.

  “Ethan told the police he met with Mike around seven-thirty at the nursery and stayed for an hour before he left. He also admitted their discussion was heated, although he denies the disagreement turned physical.” She raised her head and gazed at the group. “Homicide pinpointed Mike’s death around nine. Ethan can’t produce anyone to substantiate his whereabouts during that time.”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed at Gracie. “What do you think of your boyfriend now?”

  “Don’t start, Quinn,” Krystal said sharply.

  Ethan was agitated when he arrived at her place, but she thought the reason was because she knocked him into the rose bushes.

  He claimed he fell in the mud changing a flat tire, but it hadn’t rained in weeks. Greenhouses’ irrig
ations created sludge. He admitted being at the nursery where he could’ve gotten dirty.

  Then there was the nightmare, which possibly would’ve turned darker if he hadn’t woken up.

  Still, his behavior wasn’t so odd as if he’d done something horrendous, like kill someone.

  Krystal kept reading from her pad, “Mike died from a gunshot wound.” She stopped to swallow, her voice quivered. “He’d also been hit numerous times in the head before the killer drove and parked the tractor over his lower extremities.”

  Vivian covered her mouth with a palm.

  “So sad,” Gracie murmured.

  “Yeah,” Quinn agreed. “Somebody really wanted to make sure he was dead.”

  “So vicious, but very personal.” Vivian’s eyes watered. “They need to look at people who knew him.”

  Krystal continued, “Ethan McCarthy enlisted in the army right after junior college. An excellent soldier, he rose among the ranks, later joining the Special Forces unit as a sergeant. His primary mission in the faction was to train and lead indigenous guerrilla forces, and he did that until he left two years ago, discharged honorably.” Krystal laid the pen down and looked up. “Although the report doesn’t state his reason for leaving the military, rumors circulated later and suggest a particular incident pushed him over the edge. He spent some time under a doctor’s care.”

  “Did the rumor say what his issues were?” Vivian twisted her wet tissue between her hands. “I’m assuming they’re mental?”

  “Confidential.”

  The room became still. Implications hung in the air. Gracie remained motionless, but her thoughts churned. The near-violent attack against her remained fresh in her mind. Did he lose it during an argument with Mike and do the unthinkable? She shook away the notion, refusing to believe he could murder anyone in cold blood. He seemed to have a difficult time recalling his dream the other night. Maybe he didn’t remember killing him.

  Quinn gave her a questioning glance. “Did he reveal any of this to you?”