“Wise woman.” He nudged the stool between them. “But I said you were smart, didn’t I? The other day at the beach?”
She nodded grumpily, displeasure in every line of her slight frame.
“So, since you brought it up, tell me, what’s my price? Am I a man who can be bought?” Skating too close, gambling, he was genuinely curious as to her reading of him, interested in what she’d say.
Under the faded rose of her cotton shirt, her breasts rose quickly with her breathing, a tremble of softness beneath the pink. “Mr. Gaines,” she said in a deadly calm voice, “I’m not even going to hazard a guess as to what you mean. You’ve been playing games with me since the minute I met you, and I don’t pretend to know the rules. I don’t like you, I don’t trust you and I’m telling you now, back off.”
“And if I don’t?” he asked, yielding to a little temptation of his own and touching the damp spot right above her heart. Underneath his finger, her skin was warm, smooth. In that tiny, vulnerable space where her skin met his, where they were joined, her heartbeat pulsed into him, leaving him aching and melancholy. “What then?” he whispered. “What if I don’tâback off?” Touching her, standing so close he could inhale the scent of her breath, he hurt with the need to taste the long swoop of her upper lip.
And despising himself for what he was doing, he still stayed in that space where her breath and scent surrounded him with a promise of something he’d never known.
Red rising fiercely up her neck, she slapped his hand away, a stinging, quick reaction. Under the brim of her hat, her eyes were wide with fear and anger.
With a quick twist of his wrist, Royal extended his hand toward her. A glossy red ladybug crawled along his thumb. Placing the bug carefully along the railing of the porch, he said, “‘Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home.’” Glancing at her from under lowered brows as the bug scuttled down the railing, Royal smiled gently. “Tsk, tsk, Ms. Malloy. Such a suspicious nature you have. I was merely being ⦠helpful.”
“Were you?”
“Of course. What else could I have been doing?”
For a long moment, her eyes met his. “You’re an extremely clever man, Mr. Gaines,” she said finally. Her hand shook as she rubbed her forehead. “And I don’t mean that as a compliment, either.”
“I didn’t think you did,” he murmured as the door crashed open in back of him.
Head jerking toward the sound, she jumped.
He’d finally provoked her. He wondered what she would have said next if Tommy Lee hadn’t come blasting out the door, Katie Sue trailing dreamily on his heels.
Sticking her thumb in her mouth, Katie gave Elly a solemn look. “Tommy Lee invited me for supper. I like pizza. If you have some.”
Stepping back, Royal became a watcher as Elly’s shoulders slumped. Then, lifting her son into her arms and holding him close, she spoke to the girl. “Katie, I like pizza, too. You can’t come tonight, but I’ll talk to your mom. We’ll plan our supper. We’ll make it a party one night soon. Is that all right? A party?”
Katie’s face collapsed into dismay, the pink bow of her mouth turning upside down. “When is ‘soon’?”
“Mommy! Now!” Tommy Lee tugged at a wispy curl of Elly’s hair. “Katie’s my friend. She likes me.” Putting his milk-stained lips close to her ear, he whispered woefully, “Nobody else likes me. Just Katie. Please?”
Elly dipped her head, and the brim of her hat fell against her cheek, veiling her expression as she pressed her forehead to her son’s. “Not tonight, Thomas. You have to check with me first. You know that, honey. I’m sorry.”
Like a far-off train whistle, loneliness and exhaustion echoed in her hushed words, stunning Royal with the sudden, unfamiliar need to offer Elly Malloy comfort.
He frowned.
He was the last person Elly Malloy could expect comfort from. Or maybe not, he thought, remembering Blake Scanlon’s expression as he’d said pleasantly, affably, his eyes cold as death, “I want my wife back, Detective Gaines. Find her. Soon, you hear?”
Unlike Tommy and Katie, Royal was beginning to find the idea of “soon” decidedly unpleasant. He had a mind to let Scanlon wait a little longer, just for that tight-lipped smirk when Scanlon had added “soon.”
And maybe for his own reasons, Royal admitted bleakly to himself as he watched sunshine melt over Elly Malloy’s face. Highlighting the hollows in her cheeks and shadowy circles under her eyes, the light filtering through her hat turned her mysterious and painfully vulnerable.
Then, even as he started to say something to her, anything to keep her there a minute longer, she left in a blur of pale pink and smooth legs.
He admired the composure that let her sing out a cheerful farewell to Alicia and walk right by him without so much as a word. If he’d been paper, he would have burst into flame with the heat of her anger as she walked away from him, the scent of her a faint richness in the summer afternoon.
Surrounded by shrieking kids imitating a swarm of grasshoppers, Royal didn’t think he’d ever felt so alone in his life.
He wondered if she’d guessed that he’d palmed the ladybug from the wall behind her. She was smart enough to consider the idea.
Lifting his still-tingling fingers to his face, he inhaled the lingering fragrance of lemon and Elly Malloy.
No, he wasn’t in any hurry to turn her over to Blake Scanlon. Strolling up behind him with toys thrown into the basket of her skirt, Alicia poked his arm and dumped the blocks and plastic cars into a box. “What’s on your mind, Royal?”
“Not much.” Weariness swamped him.
One hand still clutching the loop of her skirt, Alicia said slowly, “She’s a nice lady, Royal. Every time you looked at her, I thought you were going to have her for dinner. Don’t go messing with her.”
“Thanks for your concern, Leesha.” He pushed away from the wall. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Dropping her skirt, she closed her hand over his, holding on to him, her grip firm. “Do that. For the sake of whatever might remain of our friendship.”
“You knew I was trying to find out about her?” Of course she had. If he hadn’t been spending the past months in a haze, he would have realized Alicia wouldn’t have told him anything unless she had a good reason, friendship be damned.
“Even without a shield, you’re still a damned good detective. I figured something about Elly Malloy was itching you. Actually, I was pleased to see you interested in something other than a bottle and the four walls of that place you found. I didn’t see any harm in letting you know she’d be here to pick up Tommy. In fact, I thought you might be able to help her. I think she needs help, but after seeing how you had to roll up your tongue every time she got within three feet of you, I think I made a mistake. I’m serious about Elly, Royal.” She raised one slim, dark hand and gripped his chin, forcing him to face her. “Something’s very wrong in her life. You better not make it worse, or so help me, I’ll sic Beau on you and I’ll be right behind.”
“Why did you think I could help? Doesn’t she have friends? People around her?”
“She makes a point of keeping folks at arm’s length.” Alicia’s grip tightened. “Tommy was a terror when he started at the center, but he’s calmed down considerably. I think he was one frightened child there for a while.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she mimicked. “And I think Elly’s frightened, too, no matter what she pretends. Especially this last week.” Considering him for a minute, she added reflectively, “Elly could probably use a friend, even if you’re not the first one I’d choose.” She closed his hand in both of hers. “I’m going to tell you something else about her. Something I probably shouldn’t, but I’m hoping there’s a little left in you of the man I used to be proud to call friend. I don’t know.”
Royal lowered his head. His eyes stung.
“I didn’t hear everything that happened to you, Royal, but for all your wildness, you were the best cop I’d ever met.”
>
“Until Beau,” he said through the lump in his throat, holding on to her hands too tightly.
“Well, Beau, sure,” Alicia said with a cheeky grin. “Beau’s different. He’s going to be my man. He just hasn’t figured that out yet.”
“But he will.” Royal wanted to smile and couldn’t make the muscles of his face obey.
“Of course.” Smugness sparkled in Alicia’s caramel eyes. “He’s a smart man. He’ll catch on.”
“But, Leesha?” He squeezed her hands.
“Yes?”
“I can’tâ Don’t count onâ” He cleared his throat and couldn’t go on. He couldn’t let Leesha count on him as Elly Malloy’s knight on a white horse. Leesha didn’t know. “You shouldn’t expectâ I can’t,” he wound down, exhausted by the struggle to put his failure into words.
“Fool.” She punched him lightly in the arm. “Don’t screw up with Elly, though, hear?”
“Yeah, reckon I do.” Royal leaned against the wall, wishing he could sail away on the rising breeze, away from Leesha’s determination to find some good in him even now. Sliding down, he hunkered on the floor, his head thrown back, eyes shut so that he wouldn’t have to see Leesha’s face as he betrayed her trust. “So what were you going to tell me about Ms. Malloy?”
“When she enrolled Tommy, she insisted no one else should be allowed to pick him up.”
“Doesn’t seem that unusual, for a single mom. Could be all kinds of reasons.” Opening his eyes, he stared past her to the front yard and the passing cars.
“Of course. I didn’t ask questions. Our job is to keep the kids safe. I didn’t even think anything about her request except that she repeated it several times, and then, as she was leaving, almost as if she thought she needed to clarify her insistence, she rushed into an explanation, saying Tommy’s father was abusive, he drank, she needed to make sure we understood the seriousness of her situation.” Alicia stooped and retrieved a plastic bat that had rolled under the porch swing. “You know.”
“She said too much.”
“Way too much. So I backed off. But I worry about her, about Tommy. She’s wound tighter than a spring. She needs help, and she’s made it clear that she won’t take any from me. Not that I’ve offered. At least not outright. Lord, if I did, she’d probably yank the kid out of here faster than she made tracks out of here ten minutes ago. Play detective, Royal. Find out what’s wrong.”
“You have absolutely no idea, Leesha, what you’re asking. If you care about the Malloy woman, you should keep me fifty miles clear of her.” He uncoiled and stood up, dusting off the back of his slacks. “I’m already involved in her life. And I don’t see anything good happening to her as a result, believe me.”
“Don’t you, Royal?” Leesha’s soft question hung in the air.
“Not one damned thing.” He headed toward the screen door.
“Have a little faith, Royal. In me. In yourself.”
“That’s the funniest line I’ve heard in months. You doing stand-up comedy in your spare time?” Pausing on the step outside the closed door, he saw her beautiful face, like some ancient Egyptian goddess, through the screen mesh. “You’re something else, you are, Alicia Williams. Beau’s a lucky man to have you in his life on any terms.”
“Of course he is.” Her hand rested on the mesh near his face. “And, Royal? Don’t give up on yourself just yet, hear?”
Letting his hand linger on the other side of the mesh, he swallowed, unable to speak. He gave a mute tap to the screen and left, feeling her gaze on his back all the way to his car.
Damn her for trusting him. And damn her for making him responsible for Elly Malloy and her tough nut of a kid who looked up at him as if were Batman, Robin and Superman all rolled into one.
Damned kid. He should have more sense, even at four or five, than to give his trust that easily.
With the engine of the Mustang idling and his hand on the turn signal, Royal couldn’t decide which street to take away from the day-care center. He didn’t know where to go. The car vibrated under him.
He was free as the proverbial bird.
He could go anywhere. Nowhere. Nobody was expecting him. Nobody was depending on him.
Like the singer said, freedom was just another word for nothing left to lose.
Scented with frangipani and gardenia, warm air moved over his face, his skin. Out to the west, pink and purple, the color of Elly Malloy’s gauzy sundress, mingled with soft blue.
Leesha was worried about the blossom.
He wasn’t. But unanswered questions buzzed in his brain.
He told himself he didn’t care about the apprehension flitting through Elly Malloy’s brown eyes, the shadows underneath. He told himself she wasn’t his business. Eyes narrowed against the blaze of color, he told himself he didn’t care that Scanlon was a son of a bitch.
Fingers curling around the gearshift knob, he watched the blue yield to deeper shadows. Then, with sudden decision, he shifted into Drive and took the left turn to the older section of Palmaflora.
He thought he’d continue his personal surveillance of Elly Malloy. That’s what he’d do if he were still a cop and she a suspect.
In a way, she was. According to Scanlon, she’d taken the boy and left Tallahassee, avoiding a custody hearing. She was living under an assumed name.
He parked the car under the arching branches of an ancient live oak down the block from her one-story rental.
Pouring coffee from the thermos he’d picked up from a drive-through, he inhaled the scent rising from the jug. Been a while since coffee had tasted so good, he realized, sipping the brew and staring down the block to Elly’s house.
He smiled and slumped down into his seat as twilight settled gently around him.
A throng of kids in baggy shorts whipped by on in-line skates. Tommy Lee hadn’t left the house as far as Royal could tell. Interesting. Not typical kid behavior.
In a while, when it was dark enough to move without being seen, he’d go closer. He frowned at his light gray slacks. He hadn’t dressed for night work. Resting the cup on the dash, he eased open the car door, pressing down the switch that turned on the overhead light. Stooping near the front wheel, he twisted underneath and reached up to the axle, running his hand along the joint over and over, methodically smearing grease onto his pants, streaking the light fabric into a camouflage. Finished, he thumbed out a glob and covered his face. Once upon a time, he’d dressed for this kind of activity. Once upon a time, he’d carried camouflage paint.
Once upon a time, this nighttime world had been his life.
He scuttled back inside the car, spread an old newspaper across the car seat and settled in for the wait.
Adrenaline thumped inside him, and he grinned at his reflection in the car mirror, the whites of his eyes gleaming back at him from the greasy darkness of his face. Damn, he’d missed this. He’d loved being a cop.
Later, locking the car behind him, he glided from tree to tree, closing in on her house.
The front door was shut, but her windows were partially open. No air-conditioning except the evening breeze that carried her light voice to him.
“Tommy, we need to talk.” She placed a grilled-cheese sandwich in front of him. She’d tied the ends of her blouse into a bow under her breasts, and the pale skin of her stomach gleamed in the overhead light. “I think it’s time to leave Palmaflora.”
Royal stiffened. Ms. Malloy’s instincts were dead-on.
Tommy shoved the plate away. “No.”
Stooping beside Tommy, she put her arm around him. “Honey, I know. I know.” Her hair lifted, floated in a baby-cotton cloud around her, settled on her shoulders as she took his face in both her hands. “This is hard.”
He shoved her hands away. “You don’t know, you don’t! I won’t leave!” Tommy’s voice rose hysterically. “I won’t leave Katie! You can’t make me!” The chair rocked as he stood up. “I will run away all by myself, I will. I am big enough. I can
do it.”
His arms flailed as she gathered him to her, crooning, “Easy, honey. I know, I know.” Above his head, her expression was haunted.
“No, you don’t,” he wept, burying his face into the crook of her shoulder. “Mr. Royal said he would take me to the Fourth of July rodeo. He promised he would. Today. Before you came. And Katie and me are going to have pizza. You said so.” He plucked at her hair, sobs racking him.
“Honey, don’t cry. Please don’t.”
“Will if I want to,” he muttered, hiccupping with the force of his weeping. “But I don’t want to move. I like Leesha and Lala and Katie, and Mr. Royal is my friend, too. I know he is,” Tommy added earnestly, lifting his tear-wet face and rubbing his nose against Elly’s. “And I like story hour and I’m tired of moving and I can’t remember what I’m supposed to.”
From his vantage point, Royal saw the shine of tears in Elly Malloy’s eyes as she stared toward the retreating back of her sobbing son. “Tommy!”
From the interior of the small house, a door slammed. “Go away! I’m very mad at you, Mommy! I don’t like you this minute. Not at all.”
Sinking to the floor, Elly wrapped her arms around her knees, bending her head forward. “Oh, Tommy,” she whispered, “I’m doing the best I can. I can’t do any more.” Her shoulders shook silently in the harsh light of the empty kitchen.
Congealing cheese oozed and settled in an artificial bright yellow during the long moments that she huddled on the floor. All guards down, thinking herself unobserved, she yielded to the anguish that pinched her small features and bleached them of color.
Royal couldn’t watch. Casting his eyes to the tropical darkness, he inhaled, filling his lungs with the melancholy scents of the summer night. Someone’s cigarette smoke drifted to him. Overhead, a plane droned faintly in the distance. He leaned with his back against the house, his eyes burning, while beside him, on the other side of the wall, Scanlon’s woman rocked back and forth in silent misery, her grief seeping through the walls of her house to Royal.
RENEGADE'S REDEMPTION Page 6