by Linda Ladd
“Hey, Monica, the good doc tells me that he and I were quite an item before I hit that river. That true? Or is he just trying to take advantage of me now that I’m all sick and weak and can’t remember my own name?” Claire smiled, just so Monica would know she was kidding. The nurse got it and smiled back.
“I’m afraid I didn’t know you at all until I came here to take care of you.”
“Okeydoke. How long have you known Dr. Black?”
“He had a patient in cardiac intensive care at Barnes Jewish Hospital in St. Louis. That’s where I work. Guess that was about five years ago.” Monica picked up the glass of water and handed it to Claire. “He wanted somebody here that he could trust when he had to work. I took vacation time to come here. He’s an excellent physician, you know.”
Actually, Claire didn’t know, but thought that was certainly worth a hearty double thumbs-up. “Well, thank you for coming and taking care of me.”
Monica looked down at her and surprised Claire by momentarily dropping her usual highly professional nurse to patient demeanor. “I can tell you for a fact, Claire, that Nick was absolutely distraught when you were in that coma. He stayed by your side every single moment that he could and only left when he had to. I felt so sorry for him during all those long days and nights. He did everything he could for you. He himself did the physical therapy every single day to keep your muscles agile. He said you’d want to get up as soon as you woke up. I know you can’t remember him, but please don’t have any doubts about the two of you. He loves you deeply, I can promise you that.”
All that made Claire feel rather warm and kitten-soft fuzzy, true. “It’s just been so strange, all this stuff. Living in a kind of dark night, where I don’t really know anybody.”
Monica squeezed her arm. “I know we keep saying this, Claire, but you will get better. You will remember everything; just give it a week or two.”
“Thanks. I needed that.” Claire decided to inquire further into Monica. How else was she going to get to know people? “What about you? You miss your friends back home?”
“Yes, some of them. There are a few that I can do without.”
They both laughed at the truth in that.
“I wish I had some friends to talk to.”
“You do. They’ll come to see you. You wouldn’t believe how many people came up here and sat with you and talked to you. They all tried very hard to bring you back.”
“I know, but I don’t know them anymore. You’re the only person I feel like I know, Monica. Except Black, a little, I guess.”
“Well, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, too.” Uncharacteristically, Monica sat down on the couch across from her. She didn’t do that very often. Never, actually. It pleased Claire that she did so now. Yes, she was lonely, she realized with some surprise.
“I met a guy here,” Monica offered with a shy smile. “I really like him.”
“Well, that’s great. Who is he?”
“His name is Jesse. He works downstairs in the restaurant. That’s how we met, when I ate lunch down there or brought Nick up a tray from the restaurant.”
“Is it serious?”
“I am, already. I think he likes me a lot, too. We’ve been talking about getting married someday.”
Claire clapped her hands, genuinely happy for Monica. “That’s great. Does that mean you’re gonna stay here at the lake?”
“I’m looking for a house right now. I love it down here. People are just so friendly. Nick says he can get me a job at the Canton County Medical Center, if I want it.”
“He’s a good guy, huh?”
“Oh, yes, he is. You’re lucky to have him.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Claire knew that, in a way. But in a different way, she still wasn’t so sure. “What does Jesse do?”
“He’s a busboy and waiter down in Two Cedars.”
“Maybe Black and I can have dinner with you and Jesse one of these days.”
“When I get my own place, I’ll cook dinner for the four of us,” Monica offered, seeming very pleased. “I’m a really good cook, if I say so myself.”
“It’s a date. I think that’s exactly what I need, to get out and have some fun. I’m feeling pretty cooped up and stir crazy.”
“Hey, you know what, Claire? I do have a girlfriend here at the lake. She’s only here for the summer, though. She works at the sheriff’s office, too. She assists the medical examiner. Her name’s Nancy Gill. I know you’d like her. She’s a lot of fun.”
Claire frowned, frustrated. “I don’t remember her, Monica.”
“You wouldn’t. She just got here at the beginning of the summer. Some kind of exchange program, or something. She said she never met you. We’ve been going out to her uncle’s place a couple of times a week. It’s called Jeepers and it’s a cool restaurant/bar at one of the marinas. She bartends there, when she’s off duty. We’re going out there next Friday night, if you’d like to come along. You know, a girls’ night out. I think you’d like it.”
“Well, I’ll have to ask Black,” Claire started out, and then she realized that she didn’t like the sound of that. Not even the least little bit. She shouldn’t have to ask him to do anything. She felt good, and Monica apparently thought she was well enough, too. “Okay, I’m game.”
“How about we get together right after I get off work? We can take my car.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
“Great. I can’t wait for you to meet Nancy.”
Monica picked up the tray, and then paused again at the arched entranceway. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Nick asked me to tell you he’s finishing his rounds down at the bungalows and will be back soon.”
Monica glided away in her nifty nurse shoes and left Claire alone. Maybe she should learn to walk like that. She was a detective. She snuck up on people. Maybe it would come in handy.
Jesse’s Girl
Two days after the accident
Once Jesse arrived at the hospital and found out his darling Annie had been flown back home to Lake of the Ozarks, he packed Miss Rosie’s Chevy Caprice with all they’d need. He swaddled her head inside a soft, pink baby blanket and belted her snugly into the old infant car seat he’d found in her basement, and then headed north to pick up Annie. At first, he was furious because her false lover had gotten to her first and whisked her away. That despicable Nicholas Black always did that. He hated him, and wished he’d just up and die. Annie was Jesse’s girl, and she always would be.
But then he remembered the very nice little house that Jesse had lived in at Lake of the Ozarks before they caught him and carted him off to the hospital. Maybe it was still there. Maybe he could live there with Miss Rosie. He’d love to see it again. Miss Rosie would love it there, he knew she would. And so would his mother, when he found out where she was buried. But that would have to wait awhile. Annie was his only concern at the moment.
The road trip was uneventful, but Miss Rosie didn’t like being covered up where she couldn’t admire the passing scenery. Finally, she quit complaining and dozed off to sleep. His old homestead was out on a remote arm of the lake. Very few houses were built around there. He hoped it was still empty and they could move right in. He turned on the overgrown gravel road and followed it about two miles up a hill overlooking the water. Wow, it felt just like the good old days.
When he came out from under the tree canopy, there it was sitting in the same clearing. The old house stood there, nice and friendly, just how he’d left it. It looked a bit more rundown now and was in serious need of a paint job. The windows were boarded up, and a no-trespassing poster was tacked on the front screen door.
“I’ll be right back, Miss Rosie,” he said, lifting off the blanket for a moment so she could hear him. “Now be patient. We’re almost home now. I’ve got to make sure nobody’s here before we can go in.”
Just in case anyone came snooping, he covered up Miss Rosie again, and then he ran up the steps and tried to pry the boards off the front
door. Dark clouds were moving in, and it looked like rain. He wanted to get Miss Rosie in the house before the storm hit so she wouldn’t get wet. Luckily, the boards came off fairly easily, and he jerked the last one loose, and tried the handle. It was locked. He turned to fetch his hammer out of the trunk, but whirled back around when the front door suddenly opened.
“Yes? What’re you doing here?”
A young woman was standing there, frowning at him. Her dark red hair was coiled up in curls that fell over her shoulders, and she had on a white silk blouse and short black skirt and red shoes with very high heels. He thought she was real pretty. Unfortunately, she held a stun gun in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
“Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think nobody was home.”
“Obviously. Since you were trying to break in.You better get out of here, or I’m calling the police.”
Jesse looked at the stun gun she was holding in her hand. It looked a lot like the one he used to have. “No, no, please, don’t hit me with that thing. You got this all wrong. It’s not like that ’t’all. This here’s my grandma’s house when I was a little kid, and I just wanted to take a look inside. She died, see, but I got a lot of fond memories about living out here. I just wanted to see her stuff, just for a second.”
The pretty woman looked out past Jesse to the old Caprice. “My mom and dad had a car like that when they first got married. But it was white.”
“It was Grandma’s. It still runs real well, though,” he said, smiling his best smile. He was lucky that he was born with such an innocent, nonthreatening look about him. It worked nearly every time. “Hey, ma’am, like I said, I’m really sorry to bother you. I’ll leave now. Sorry, if I scared you, too. I’m goin’. I’m outta here right this minute, I promise.”
The woman hesitated, looking sympathetic, like she thought: poor little guy missin’ his grandma. Yeah, he had her, hook, line, and sinker.
“Oh, well, I guess you can come inside and take a quick look around. I’m Miriam Long. I’m a real estate agent, and I’m helping a friend who’s handling probate on this place.”
“Oh, okay, I really didn’t mean to bother nobody. I never woulda taken anything, or nothin’. I just wanna look at the house and think about Grandma and me.” He glanced around. “And I didn’t see no car so I didn’t think nobody was here.”
“That’s because I came out here by boat. It’s tied up down the hill at the dock. The back door’s got a lockbox on it. It’s just so much closer by water. I’ve got to keep an eye on it. Judge’s orders. The last owner was murdered here, and she left no kin. So we’re waiting for the case to wind its way through the courts.”
“Oh, no! Somebody got murdered in Grandma’s house!”
“Yes, the whole thing was quite terrible, really. Some crazy maniac killed her. C’mon in, I guess, but I can’t stay long. I have a flight to catch.”
“You’re really nice to let me come in, ma’am.” He gave Miriam an earnest look, but inside he smoldered at the maniac crack. He wasn’t a maniac, and he wasn’t crazy. How dare her say that about him? “I won’t take but a few minutes, I promise.”
Miriam stood back and allowed him to pass her and walk into the small foyer. He watched her put the stun gun in her handbag on the hall table, and then he looked around, nearly overcome by all the good memories. All his and Suze’s furniture was still there, just like he’d left it. My goodness, it was so good to be back home again.
“I’m going down to check the basement for leaks. There was a terrible storm just a few nights ago. Go ahead, look around all you want.” Miriam Long walked to the basement door and hesitated there for a second when she heard the roll of thunder out over the lake, and then she gave him another one of her warm smiles. She was really cute. “Hey, I guess you wouldn’t want to put a bid on this house, would you? It’s going to go cheap after we finally get a judgment.”
“Not if it’s got a leak in the basement.” He laughed a bit, just to put her at ease. This was going to be so easy. Easier than any of his kills in a long, long time. He could hear the rain now, beating on the roof.
She laughed, too. “Well, let’s just check it out then. I’d love to keep this place in your family.”
The door under the steps was closed, and she opened it, switched on the light, and then carefully started down the steep and narrow steps, sort of sideways in her high-heeled shoes. He went after her, and two steps down from the top, she turned around and looked at him as if to say something. Her eyes went up at once to the brand-new, shiny, ten-inch Walmart-brand meat cleaver where he held it high over his head. He brought it down hard on top of her chest, and she screamed in agony and went flying backwards down the steps, head over heels, just from the extreme force of the blow. She hit the floor, hard and headfirst, and lay there groaning and gasping with pain. His blade still dripping with her blood, he carefully descended toward her, looking around the familiar reaches of the unfinished basement. Just the same. Everything. Even the old refrigerator was there. Great! It was so good to be home.
Miriam Long was still moaning and her fingers were twitching on her right hand. He stood over her for a moment, enjoying the seeping blood slowly staining the front of her white blouse scarlet and pooling underneath her. Then he found his old aluminum baseball bat, still in the spot where he’d hidden it under the bottom step so long ago. He raised it in the air and bludgeoned her in the face until she was dead. The real estate agent wouldn’t bother them anymore, now would she? Miss Rosie liked her privacy, and so did he. He’d put Miss Rosie in the freezer. Then after it got dark and quit raining, he’d take his new friend, Miriam, far out into the middle of the lake and dispose of her body from her very own boat. That’s what he’d do. Man, he hoped she had a good-looking boat. He always had loved to speed around out on the lake and enjoy the cool wind in his face.
Chapter Five
Nicholas Black did show up, just a few minutes after Monica took her leave, alongside a white-coated young waiter pushing a cart with several silver domes on top and acting honored to be accompanied by the big boss man himself. Black was dressed to the absolute nines in a tailor-made black pinstripe suit, yellow tie over a crisp white shirt, and yes, it did have his initials on the cuff, all three in a sweet little line. Just to the side of his solid gold cufflinks. Poor guy, must have to shop at K-Mart, and all.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Black said, shedding his jacket, draping it on the back of his chair, and sitting down across from her.
“Actually, I am. I only had three pounds of the food you ordered up for breakfast.” He was piling the calories up on her, yes, sir, he sure was. “What’s for lunch?”
“Chicken salad on croissants and homemade potato chips. Baked beans and slaw. Strawberry shortcake and vanilla ice cream for dessert. A bowl of frozen Snickers bars on the side.”
“Oh, my God, frozen Snickers. I knew I had to like you for a reason.”
At that, he looked inordinately satisfied, which was sort of endearing, actually. So they sat there, all pleasant like and domestic, with smiles and everything, while the efficient but nervous waiter served them. Then Claire watched Black open his large white linen napkin and settle it atop his lap.
She did the same. “So, Black, Monica just told me that you’re absolutely crazy about me.”
He looked up quickly. “And that’s news to you? But just for the record, yes, I am crazy about you, and we are a very happy couple.”
Claire decided to tease him a bit, check out his sense of humor. She hadn’t seen much of that, yet. And she liked guys with senses of humor. He was Dr. Serious as Sin, and most of the time. “Were we just happy, or really, really happy?”
Stirring a big spoonful of sugar into his iced tea, no Equal for him, unh-uh, he focused those bluer than blue eyes on her face. “We are really, really happy together. Maybe even a couple of more reallys. Deliriously, even.”
“That’s present tense.”
“You bet it is.”
“What if I never remember you again? That’s not going to make us all those reallys very happy, I suspect.”
“You will remember.”
“That sounds more like wishful thinking, doctor.”
Claire decided that she was insecure about remembering, she had to admit it.
But it just wasn’t happening, and it had been a while. She watched him squeeze a slice of lemon into his tea. She was highly curious about him. Not just his surface good looks, either. What was he all about? What did he believe in? What had he done in his life? Although she was fairly self-confident about her own feminine appeal, and all, this guy was the real catch of the year. She wasn’t bad, or nasty looking, or anything, but she highly doubted if she, a lowly and poor detective, and he, a famous psychiatrist, had schmoozed around in the same circles, unless she was arresting one of them. “So tell me about yourself, doctor. All your deep, dark secrets. You look like the kind of man who’s had a boatload of women, if not a Carnival Cruise liner. Am I just the last one you happened to be sleeping with?”
That was another attempt at ha-ha, sort of. But she did wonder if he was a bit of a womanizer. After all, he was wealthy and super hot and charming and super hot and muscular and super, super hot.
His stare was dead-on and unblinking, enough so to make her want to squirm, and everything.