by Leger, Lori
She cleared her throat, got up quickly from the table, and placed her dishes in the dishwasher. “You finished?”
“Yep.” He met her at the appliance with his dishes.
Annie grabbed the plate and fork from his hands and dropped them with a clatter into the dishwasher before closing the door. “Are you done, or do you need more coffee?”
“I could use another cup.”
“No problem. Grab yourself a travel mug.” She walked to her bathroom to ready herself for the trip back to Lake Coburn. Her first priority of the day—get this man the hell out of her home.
Ready for the trip, Annie draped her purse over her shoulder as she entered the living room several minutes later. She stood watching Drake at the birdcage, trying to converse with Lewis—without much success.
“He doesn’t like strangers, do you Lewis?” she called out.
“Stranger Danger! Aaannie!”
“Yes, Lewis?” She approached the cage.
“I lo-ove Annie!”
“I love you too, Lewis.” She stuck her face to the bars so Lewis could smooch her lips.
“Ugh! That’s disgusting.” Drake’s face twisted with disapproval. “You don’t know where that beak has been! He could give you some kind of bird disease.”
“Sshh, he’s sensitive. You’ll hurt his feelings,” she whispered.
Drake frowned. “Oh, stop.”
“Aaannie!” cried the bird.
“Yes, Lewis?” she asked.
“Who’s the prick?” Lewis asked, with a flutter of wings.
Annie snorted with laughter. “Oh, oh. Too late.”
Drake turned to her. “That is so wrong. Why would you teach him something like that?”
Annie laughed. “I didn’t. He heard one of my brothers ask that once and he picked it up immediately. He’s a very intelligent bird, aren’t you Lewis?”
“Lew-is…Sharp as a tack!” the bird replied.
Drake put his head back and laughed. “That’s amazing! How old is he?”
“Chad gave him to me for my fourteenth birthday, and he was about a year old when I got him, so around seventeen years old. African Grey Parrots live to be around fifty and are very intelligent.”
“Aaannie!”
“What Lewis?”
“Lewis wants a cook-kie!”
“Okay, baby.” Annie went to get a cookie from the plate covered with plastic wrap.
“Hey, I ate one of those last night. They’re damn good.”
She turned to Drake, open mouthed, and held up the plate. “You ate one of these?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, were you saving them for something else?”
She shook her head, couldn’t keep the grin off her face. “I make these for Lewis. There’s bird seed in them. And, ah—other things.”
Drake’s eye narrowed suspiciously. “What other things?”
Annie’s low laughter carried through the room. “Okay, Drake. This is one of those times when you really need to trust me. You don’t want to know.”
Drake placed a hand on his stomach and shook his head slowly. “One question…were those really chocolate chips?”
“No.” She laughed at the look on his face and took pity on him. “They were carob chips, which is completely fine.”
He breathed a sigh of relief then narrowed his eyes again as he seemed to remember something else. “Okay, bird seed I can handle, but those other crunchy things were nuts of some kind, right?”
She bit her lip and tried to keep a straight face. “Sure they were, Drake. I hear dehydrated crickets are chock full of protein.”
He closed his eyes, cringing. “Oh, crap.”
“I’m kidding.”
His shoulders drooped in relief. Her impish smile had him holding his breath again.
She gave one delicate shrug of her shoulder. “Or maybe I’m not.”
He cursed under his breath, knowing she wouldn’t make this easy. As in nothing. Ever. A sudden thought had his shoulders relaxing, had him settling down, ready to take her on. He’d had easy. In life, in women, in career—stepping into his father’s footsteps, walking in his shadow. He’d left Texas for a change, for something more challenging.
He grinned and gave her a nod. Annie McAllister was more than a challenge. She was epic—life altering—she was forever.
And he was up for forever.
By the time Drake arrived at Red and Tiffany’s place at eleven, Annie had already told Red about the attack. Red greeted him at the door with a firm handshake. “We owe you one, Drake. That could have turned out so much worse than it did. Did you leave him hurting?”
“I left him unconscious. If Annie hadn’t been so sick I’d have let you know.”
“If you had, the bastard would be jailed by now.”
“I know, and I’ve been kicking myself in the ass all morning. Annie was so damn sick—she begged me not to call you. And she cried, man.”
Red raised a hand to stop him. “Say no more. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself, it’s that I’m a pushover for the waterworks.” He pulled a chair out at the snack bar, motioning for Drake to sit.
“I’m not usually. But, when I think about how he took advantage of the pain she was in …” Drake struggled to get a hold of his anger. “I’ve never come so close to wanting to kill somebody with my bare hands. Wherever that son of a bitch is, he’s not in nearly enough pain this morning.”
Red lifted a lid to stir the contents of a pot. “We called the hospitals with the description she gave me. Nobody checked in with injuries to the face or cracked ribs. Either he crawled off on his own or someone else helped him to his vehicle. I also gave a description to the police department. They called Annie over there to work with a sketch artist. That’s where she is. Do you think you could help with that?”
Drake stood quickly. “I can do better than that. What’s the address to the station?”
Drake was lead into a room where Annie leaned over a monitor.
“No. His eyes were further apart than that.” She frowned, clearly frustrated.
“I can help with that.”
She whipped her head around. “What are you doing here?”
“The same thing you are. I can sketch the guy if someone finds me a pencil and pad.”
Someone handed him what he asked for, and within five minutes, Drake had sketched an amazingly accurate image of the man as well as every tattoo he’d seen on him. He held it up for Annie’s inspection.
“Oh, God!” She took a step back. “That’s him. Down to the last detail, even the pierced ears and scar over his right eyebrow.” She clutched a hand to her stomach. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—I’m going to be sick.”
Drake watched the color drain out of her face as she ran to the women’s restroom. He stood at the door, waiting for her. She came out, still pale, with both hands placed gingerly over her stomach. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Sorry, but it took me by surprise. I wasn’t ready for that perfect of an image. You must have excellent night vision.”
“There was a full moon that night, and I wasn’t suffering from a debilitating migraine.” He turned to the officer. “Are we finished here?”
“No sir, I believe Detective Manuel wants to speak to you. Come with me, please.”
Drake spent the next fifteen minutes giving a statement, and trying to defend his actions to a smug-faced detective. “So, the fact of the matter is, instead of calling us to pick him up and get him off the streets, you took it upon yourself to beat the hell out of him.”
Drake glared at the man who, in his opinion, had been rude and obnoxious since they’d entered his office. “Look, when I saw Annie in the back of that truck she was clutching her head and in agony. I thought he’d hurt her already.”
“Had he?” the detective asked him.
Drake nodded. “Miss McAllister suffers from severe migraines that she has to take injections for. It came on fast, causing nausea and excruciating pain.
When he threw her over his shoulders, like a sack of potatoes it caused the pain to worsen dramatically. Then he dropped her on the bed of a pickup truck and her head hit pretty hard, causing more severe pain. So, I’d say yes, he had hurt her.”
The detective looked over at Annie and almost sneered. “These—injections—you give yourself, Miss McAllister. Would you, by any chance, have a prescription for them?”
“Yes sir, I do. If you have any doubts, my doctor’s name is Alex Bertrand and he practices in Kenton.”
“And how long have you seen Dr. Bertrand for this—condition—of yours, Miss McAllister?”
“Six months, or so, but that’s because I just moved to Kenton from Gardiner six months ago. My family doctor, Dr. Williams, has treated me for migraines for twelve years.”
The detective wrote everything down then looked her directly in the eye. “Miss McAllister, what were you wearing the night of the attack?”
Drake stood suddenly. “Oh hold the hell up, now. What she was wearing the night of the incident has nothing to do with any of this.”
The detective pursed his lips, looking amused. “Sometimes it helps us to get a better understanding of the, ah, situation.”
Tightlipped, Annie answered Drake without meeting his gaze. “I’ll answer his question, Drake. I was wearing a black leather skirt, with a cream short sleeved sweater, black hose and high heels. It was chili that night, so I’d worn my black leather jacket, also.”
“Was it a mini-skirt?”
“Yes.”
“In your opinion, were you dressed suggestively?”
“I wouldn’t s—” Annie began.
“What?” Drake demanded. “Annie don’t you say one more word to this asshole!”
“Drake, I want to gi—” she began again.
Drake cut her off and turned to the detective. “And you—” He stuck his finger in the detective’s face. “I want to speak to your supervisor, right damn now!”
“Now, hold on, don’t get your knickers in a knot, Mr. LeBlanc.” The detective’s voice oozed condescension.
Annie began again. “Detective, I don’t think my—”
Drake stood up angrily, grabbed Annie’s hand to pull her up from the chair. “We’ll find someone else to speak to.”
“Hey!” Annie raised her voice in a bid for his attention.
The detective tried once more to speak. “Mr. LeBlanc—”
Drake placed a hand on the small of Annie’s back as he led her to the door and turned to look at the officer. “This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me, officer. I’m not done with you by a long shot. You’ve just screwed with the wrong man.”
Annie turned to block his path to the door. “Drake!”
“What?” He yelled, staring down at her.
She glared up at him, her mouth set in a stubborn line. “Maybe you’re finished with this guy for right now, but I’m not. I’ve got something to say to him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s just go find his superior officer.”
Annie took a deep breath then stepped around him. She pushed him roughly through the door. “Get out, Drake. I want to speak to him in private.” She grabbed the handle of the door and went to close it in his face.
Drake reached out with one long arm to stop the door. “This isn’t a good idea, Annie.”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. Despite what you and my brother think, I’m an adult. Now go, because I’ve got something to say to this—gentleman,” she said, turning her glare on the officer.
Drake remembered what Red had told him once about Annie’s temper. He let go of the door reluctantly and left to find the unfortunate man’s boss.
Ten minutes later, a sheepish looking detective opened the door to his office and stepped aside to let Annie pass through first. “After you, ma’am.”
“Thank you. Is there anything else you need from me, detective?” She spoke quietly, with no sign of anything other than sugary sweet politeness.
“No, ma’am. I believe you’ve given me all the information I need to set this into motion. I’ll let you know the second I receive any more information on this matter.”
“I’d appreciate that, Officer Manuel. Thank you.”
Drake, who’d been sitting at a table speaking to Captain Woodard, stared in amazement at the exchange.
The Captain strode to Annie’s side. “Has everything been handled to your satisfaction?”
“Yes sir, I believe it has. I’m Annie McAllister. And you are?”
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am. I’m Captain John Woodard. Your friend made a complaint against Officer Manuel, here.”
“My friend spoke prematurely, Captain Woodard. The gentleman and I have come to an understanding, haven’t we, officer?”
“Yes ma’am, we have. I apologize again for my behavior earlier. I assure you, it won’t happen again—ever,” he added.
Annie gave him a brilliant smile. “I’m positive it won’t.” She turned toward the door, barely sparing a glance at Drake before heading out. “I’m done here.”
He snapped his mouth closed and followed her through the exit.
They stepped into the lobby after a particularly quiet elevator ride. Drake got to the door first and held it open for her, watching her closely. The tight lips and clenched jaw were both indications that she was still pissed.
“Just try not to think about that guy.” He walked her to her black SUV in silence, then reached over and pulled her to a stop a few feet from her vehicle. “Are you still upset?”
She turned slowly to face him. “Why would I be upset, Drake? It couldn’t possibly be because you treated me like a child in that station, could it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You constantly interrupted me, completely ignored me, and finally pulled me up out of the chair and tried to push me out of that office.”
“He insulted you!”
“Yes, he did. He insulted me, not you! And it was up to me to put him in his place. It was not for you to go running to his ‘superior officer’.” She mimicked the tone he’d used with the detective. “I’m far more upset at your treatment of me than his.”
“I can’t believe this. I can’t do a damn thing right where you’re concerned, can I?”
“Apparently not.” Her tone dry and unimpressed. “So stop trying, already.”
He looked down at her furious eyes. “I won’t apologize for defending you.”
“What am I, a damsel in distress?”
“Last night you were.”
Annie took a step toward him. “Last night I had the worst migraine I’ve ever had at the most inopportune moment of my life. If it hadn’t been for that, I could have handled myself, I assure you.”
“You’re not serious, are you?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Of course I’m serious.”
Drake smiled out of one side of his mouth. “Annie, you’re too tiny to be a threat to somebody that size.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Attack me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Attack me.”
“Annie, I can’t.”
“Do it, you big pussy!”
“Hey, now.” He frowned at her. “No need for name calling.”
She shoved hard at him. “Go on, attack me.”
“All right.” He stood for a moment then made a halfhearted attempt at rushing her.
She laughed at his effort. “Forget it, Drake. I should have known not to expect much from a sissy lawyer. You’re just a bully with a law degree.” She turned her back on him and began to walk to her truck.
Drake decided to teach her a lesson. He rushed at her from behind, as if he really meant it this time. The next thing he knew, he was on his back, and she was standing over him with her foot on his trachea. Well, shit.
She glared down at him then stepped away. “Get up and try it again from a different angle. Surprise me, this time.”
“I’d just as soon not do this on the concrete, if you don’t mind. You could get hurt.”
She snorted then turned and walked toward a patch of grass. Drake got up and charged at her again, this time taking her totally by surprise—or so he thought. Again, he ended up on his back, this time with her knee on his groin.
“Got enough?” She rose quickly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No,” he grunted. He pushed himself to his feet and turned toward her. “But how are you at frontal attacks?”
She lifted both hands, gave him a classic come on over and try wave. “Show me what you got, big boy.”
Drake mentally prepared himself then rushed her in full frontal attack mode. This time he ended up on his stomach, with one arm twisted at a dangerous angle behind his back, and her knee braced against it.
She let him up. “Give up?”
He got to his knees slowly, then rose, with some difficulty, to his feet. “Did your brothers teach you that?”
“No, but they sure motivated me to learn everything I could. I took self-defense classes religiously for a year. I still go once a month to keep in practice. Satisfied?”
He nodded and rubbed the back of his head. “I guess so. But that still doesn’t mean I was wrong in there. You couldn’t have done that to a cop without getting thrown in jail. You’d have needed some pussy lawyer to get your ass out of trouble.”
She shook her head. “If you hadn’t been in that room, it never would have gone that far. I’d have made sure the officer and I understood each other a lot sooner, without your interference. You made it worse by going all ‘He-man’ on me.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“Of course you don’t.” She shook her head while buckling herself into her truck.
He grabbed hold of her door. “I guess I’ll see you back at Red and Tiff’s?”
“I’m not going back.”
“Why not?”
“I’m tired of you ruining every family function for me, so I’ll give you today and I’m going home. Tell Red and Tiffany I’m still feeling drained from last night’s migraine.”
“Are you serious? You’re going to skip New Year’s Day with your family because I’ll be there?” Drake felt about as small as a tadpole in a pond full of bullfrogs.