by Joanna Wayne
Before Jodie could slam the phone into the side of his head, she heard Grams’s voice at the other end of the connection.
JODIE PUSHED OPEN the screen door and Ray followed her inside, swinging a quickly packed duffel at his side. The house was dark except for the welcoming light in the hall. That could only mean Grams was asleep.
Of course Grams would have been up and ready to receive her guest with open arms if Jodie had given her the message he’d told her to deliver. But Jodie had no intention of frightening her grandmother or of putting her in danger. That left her only one choice and it did not encompass having a past lover move back into her life as a temporary bodyguard.
“Where do you want me to put this?” Ray asked, lifting his duffel a little higher.
She choked back her first choice of an answer. “Shhh.” She placed a finger over her lips. “Don’t wake up Grams. I told you I don’t want her to know you’re here.”
“Don’t you think she’ll figure it out when I come down the stairs for morning coffee in my bathrobe?”
The image flashed through Jodie’s head. Ray, cleanshaven with the hint of aftershave lingering in the air. Ray, his hair damp from the shower, his mouth minty fresh. Memories filled her mind, making her body weak but strengthening her resolve.
“Wait in the kitchen,” she whispered. “I’m going upstairs to check on the boys. When I get back, we’ll talk.”
“It’s pushing midnight, a little late for chatting.”
“This conversation won’t take long.”. She turned her back on him and hurried to the boys’ room. She needed to see them sleeping safely in their beds. Needed to hear the soft sounds of their breathing and see their tiny chests rise and fall beneath their cuddly sleepers. Needed to feel that something was all right with the world.
The night-light glowed softly, illuminating her steps enough that she avoided colliding with the wooden rocking horse and a stuffed tiger one of the twins had obviously tossed from his bed. Neither of the boys stirred from slumber as she tiptoed across the thick carpet.
Grams had chosen the perfect room for a nursery and then raided not only her attic but her neighbor’s to find two cribs, the rocking horse and bright-colored paintings of Louisiana pelicans and sailboats. Only the mattresses had to be purchased.
The hasty exit from New York had forced Jodie to bring only necessary items. Clothing, photographs and a few of the boys’ favorite toys had topped her list.
This time she’d have to travel with a whole lot less. Her heart constricted in pain at the thought of leaving her sons, but pain and heartbreak couldn’t change what she had to do.
She tiptoed to the side of Blake’s bed. Shadows from the teddy bear mobile danced along the pale yellow walls, and she shivered. The boys had been sleeping this soundly the night she had found the note tucked inside Blake’s empty bed. The night the killer had been as close to her babies as she was right now. The night she’d vowed he would never touch her sons again.
Her fingers tightened around the crib railing, as she stared down at her firstborn son, her eyes adjusting to the faint light. Blake had kicked off the covers, and, thumb in mouth, was sucking away. She touched her fingers to her lips and then to his cheek before tucking the light blanket over him, knowing he would kick it off again before she made it back down the stairs.
The second crib was across the room, next to the window seat. Blair wriggled as she approached, his lips breaking into a smile as he slept. “Pleasant dreams,” she whispered. “May you always have them, pumpkin.”
The room was warm, but a sudden chill shook Jodie’s body. They were not alone. A human-shaped shadow moved along the wall, and she jerked around in time to see Ray’s back as he disappeared through the nursery door.
He’d intruded and then walked away. So like him. But the loss was all his. At least she was no longer tormented with whether or not she should tell a man who wanted no part of responsibility, of commitment, that he had two wonderful sons. Now it was he who had made the choice of denial.
A tear slid down her cheek as she turned from the cribs. It was time to let the past die. Today was more than enough to deal with. And dealing with it meant keeping her boys safe at all costs.
RAY STOOD at the kitchen door and stared into the blackness of a night that had started with bright moonlight and a heaven full of stars. Now dark clouds punctuated by ragged streaks of lightning pummeled the serenity.
And here he was back in Natchitoches, being sucked into a life he wanted no part of. Dealing with his disapproving dad by day, and now Jodie by night.
Jodie by night. The words had the ring of a song title, maybe even a romantic sonnet. Jodie, hot with passion, sex siren in a cotton gown, warming up a New York night with a blaze all her own.
Suddenly, heat suffused his body. He pulled at the collar of his shirt and went to the refrigerator. Retrieving a pitcher of cold lemonade, he searched the cabinets above the sink for a glass. Before he’d finished pouring, Jodie made her entrance, and the cold challenge in her eyes made a cool drink unnecessary.
He set the pitcher on the table. “Were the boys all right?”
“Sound asleep,” she answered, playing along with him, pretending she hadn’t seem him watching the tucking-in procedures from the shadows. “And so is Grams.”
“As are most people in Natchitoches this close to the bewitching hour. I suggest we turn in, too. You’ve had a rough evening.”
“Not nearly as rough as Gloria Bigger’s.”
“And none of that was your fault. The woman had a heart attack, her second according to the report we got when we called the hospital. And the last report said she was holding her own.”
He took her hand. She pulled it away, as if his touch might defile her.
“It’s possible you and Butch are right about the stalker not frightening her into a heart attack. It’s also possible you are wrong. At any rate the flowers this afternoon were from the stalker.”
“That’s circumstantial evidence.”
“Okay, I believe they were from the stalker. I also believe there’s a good chance he is either in town or on his way. Call me crazy. I don’t care. But this man is obsessed with me in some sick fashion. Obsessed enough to travel across the country to find me. I don’t understand it. I just know it’s true.”
“I’m sure there have been many men obsessed with you, Jodie. I remember a few.”
“Don’t make light of this. You don’t know the whole story.”
Her eyes watered, dark depths of fear, and Ray fought the urge to take her in his arms. But comfort would not release the devils that were tormenting her. Talk might at least help him to understand them. “Go on, Jodie. You’ve been skirting the truth all night.” He pulled out a straight-backed kitchen chair and led her to it. “Tell me the rest of the story.”
She perched on the front edge of the seat, her eyes staring at a spot somewhere over the kitchen range, her hands on the table, clasped tightly. “It would be a waste of time. You wouldn’t believe me any more than anyone else did.”
“Try me.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I worked late at the office one night.”
Her voice was hollow, as if she were delivering a memorized speech that had nothing to do with her. Ray listened carefully, his attorney’s mind honing in on every detail.
“I had to finish up a presentation for a client. Max Rol-ing, one of the college interns stayed to help. I told him I’d treat for dinner.”
“And did you go to dinner?” he asked, when she appeared stuck in the mire.
“Yes, at a restaurant close to the office. It was late, past ten when we finally stopped to eat. We had a glass of wine. I guess the combination of zinfandel and fatigue got to me. I opened up for the first time to him about the stalker who was wreaking havoc on my ability to sleep or concentrate.”
“What was his reaction?”
“No signs of guilt, if that’s what you’re thinking. He was surprised, and u
nderstanding. We finished the meal, and he hailed me a cab. I offered to have the taxi drop him off at his place, but he refused. He was supposed to meet a friend later, a waitress at a restaurant in the theater district.”
Pain hammered at Ray’s left temple. He had a good idea where the story was going. “I know this is tough on you, but tell me everything, Jodie. And be as accurate as you can.”
“I’ll try. The facts are entangled with emotions.” A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. “Max hugged me tightly before I got into the cab. But instead of his arms, it was someone’s gaze that I felt.”
She shook her head, rearranging the unruly curls that hugged her cheeks. “I know. It sounds crazy. Several of- ficers of the NYPD already assured me of that, in kinder words, of course. But he was watching us. I felt him, the same way I felt him tonight.”
“It’s not crazy, Jodie. Survival is a sixth sense sometimes. You can’t take it to court, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
“I got a call in the middle of the night from the police department,” she continued, a finger tracing the outline of a vine in the tablecloth. “Max had my business card on him, and they needed someone to identify the body.”
“Oh, jeez! And you had to be the one they called.” This time Ray’s body refused to heed his own survival warnings. He rounded the table in quick steps and all but lifted Jodie from her chair, steadying her on her feet and cradling her in his arms.
“One week later, I woke in the middle of the night, shaking and afraid. That’s the night I found the note tucked inside Blake’s crib.”
Her voice dissolved into a shaky whisper. “And that’s when I ran. Until today, I’d thought I’d made the right decision.”
“You did. You definitely did.” Ray tightened his arms about her, and she swayed closer. She felt so good in his arms, so right. His brain went numb. His body grew warm.
When he’d left New York two years ago, Jodie Gahagen had been so embedded in his senses, it had taken months for him to even begin to get over her. Months before he could fall into bed at night without aching to hold her. Months before he had woken up in the morning without reaching for her.
Now it was all coming back, and he was powerless to stop the feelings that raged inside him. Her head was on his shoulders, her hair painting the front of his shirt with a tangle of bright red curls, her fragrance filling him like some exotic aphrodisiac.
It was all wrong. His brain whispered the warning. But his body shouted his need. He pulled away only enough to slip a thumb under her chin, to tilt her face upward. Her lips trembled, and he touched them with his own, softly at first, then harder, hungrily.
The world swam around them, and he was powerless to control the desire that choked away his will. Jodie finally did, pulling away, her eyes fiery, and her soft lips still swollen from his kiss.
“Why did you do that?” she asked, meeting his gaze head-on. “Why did you kiss me?”
“I don’t know. An impulse.”
“A be-nice-to-the-scared-lady kiss?” She walked to the other side of the table, putting a tangible barrier between them. “I don’t need that kind of comfort. The truth is I don’t need anything from you. I want you to leave here, tonight.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. You just pick up your bag and walk out the door. No phone calls. No cards and letters. You just leave and then nothing. You’re good at it. I’ve seen you in action.”
“If you’re talking about New York, I had my reasons, Jodie.”
“They don’t matter, not now.”
“Maybe not, but I’m not leaving until we know for sure if this lunatic of yours is in town.”
“You have work to do. You can’t be my bodyguard twenty-four hours a day.”
“I won’t have to. Ben will be here during the day. I’ll be here at night. You and the boys will be safe, and if the man shows up, we’ll nab him.”
“He’ll show up, but you’ll never see him. No one will, until he wants to be seen.”
“I’ll stop him,” he said, knowing that he had to protect Jodie, no matter what being around her every night did to him.
“You can stay here tonight, Ray. I’ll make up some excuse to Grams as to why you’re here. I’ll have to tell her so many lies to make my plan of action work that one more won’t matter.”
“And what happens after tonight?”
“I’ll be out of here,” she said, her voice trembling.
“No way. You are not running away again. The chase has to stop somewhere, and it should be here where you have friends and family.”
“And a policeman who gives credence to my story?”
“Butch said he’d check everything out. Besides, you can’t keep uprooting the twins’ lives trying to outrun a madman.”
“The twins are not your concern. But you’re right. I won’t be taking the twins with me. This time I’ll run alone and hope the stalker catches up with me. If I can see him, I can go to the cops with a description. I want this over, once and for all, one way or another.”
“Now you’re talking crazy, Jodie. I will not let you do this.”
“Then you better come up with a hell of a way to stop me.”
She spun toward the door, her hair flying. Ray thought hard for a comeback, but his mind drew only blanks while he watched her march her shapely little body out the door.
Chapter Four
The grandfather clock in the downstairs hall struck three. Jodie counted the chimes as she stared at the ceiling. Alone in the dark, memories played havoc with her determination and trounced on her will. Memories and proximity. Ray Kostner was in the next room, separated from her by a few feet and a wall. And an impenetrable barrier of regrets and denial.
She tossed again, mauling the sheets and wallowing in images that would be best forgotten. With all the complications in her life, all the hopelessness of running from a madman who wouldn’t give up, Ray had still managed to slip back into her heart. She had learned nothing from years of mistakes.
As a teenager, it had been the relentless infatuation with the town bad boy. He’d always been a little bigger than life, more daring than the other boys in town, and far more exciting. He’d been the teenager who collected speeding tickets like baseball cards, ran away to New Orleans for a wild weekend when most of his classmates dared go no farther than Shreveport. He’d been the one kicked off the football team for ignoring the coach’s orders and having his head shaved in Mohawk fashion, just to be cool.
He would have probably never made it through high school if his dad hadn’t been the pillar of the community. Still, half the adolescent female population in Natchitoches had drooled over him since grade school.
Actually, Jodie had been a late bloomer. She’d been all of fourteen before she’d fallen under his spell. Ray had been a senior in high school then, and he had stopped by her house with her older cousin for a slice of her birthday cake. Too bad he’d liked Grams’s coconut cake so much—he’d thanked the birthday girl with a kiss on the cheek.
The kiss.
Her first kiss. And it had to be from Ray Kostner. Not that it was much of a kiss. But she hadn’t washed her face for days. She’d have waited longer if she hadn’t gone up to Shreveport to the state fair and eaten that wad of sticky cotton candy. She’d waited for years for him to kiss her again.
God, she’d been stupid. Then she’d had youth for an excuse. Tonight she had only her own weakness to blame. She’d ignored every warning her brain had issued and asked for his help. Once again he’d torn her heart from her chest and stamped on it.
He’d denied his own sons.
She could live with his rejection, but as long as she had breath in her body, her sons wouldn’t have to.
Jodie kicked her feet, entangling them even worse in a sheet that seemed to be fighting back. She gave up and attacked the pillow instead, pounding it into submission, and wishing for daylight.
She closed her eyes, for seconds, mere s
econds. That’s when she heard the noise. A cry of pure pain, and it was coming from the nursery. She jumped from the bed and raced down the hall. Before she was out her door, the second twin had joined in the wailing chorus.
Ray beat her to the nursery. “What’s wrong with them?” he asked, from his position between the two cribs.
“I don’t know. Maybe they don’t like having strangers in the house.”
“I’ll introduce myself. The name’s Ray Kostner. I’m here to help your mom.”
Blake quit crying and stood, sinking his teeth into the top railing of the crib. He was all smiles now that company had arrived. Jodie nudged Ray out of the way and reached over the railing to check on Blair. He’d stopped wailing the second he’d caught sight of her too, but he looked none too happy. His lips were trembling, his eyes red from tears.
She let her fingers linger on his brow. “He has a fever,” she said, picking him up and holding him close.
“I can drive you to the hospital.”
“You don’t rush babies to the hospital every time they have a fever. But I do want to check it. Could you get the thermometer for me? It’s on the table over there.”
Ray fumbled through the assortment of baby implements while Jodie changed Blair’s diaper. “I don’t see a thermometer.”
“You have your hands on it.”
“Really? Odd-looking contraption.”
“Just hand it over.” She took it and inserted it in Blair’s ear.
“I thought you put those things in their mouth.”
“Go back to bed, Ray. I’m not doing a class in Baby 101 tonight.”
“If you’re sure you don’t need any help.”
“I’m positive.”
Relief eased the lines in his face. “I’ll wait and see how high his fever is, though. High fever’s not good for a kid. I do know that much.”
“A hundred and one. You can go to bed.”
“Does that mean you don’t have to worry?”
“No, it means I don’t have to panic. I’ll give him something to bring the fever down and take him to the doctor in the morning. It’s probably an ear infection. He’s prone to those.”