“So, we’re good?” Beth said between her tears. “You’ll keep the secret?”
“We’re good, and your secret is safe with me,” Gracie said.
Chapter Seventeen
Beth woke with a start. What was that noise? Was she dreaming? She squinted to look at the little onyx travel clock on her night stand: 4:55. She groaned and rolled over and wiggled, trying to get next to John, who radiated warmth like a big papa bear. Only John wasn’t there. She squinted again, trying to identify the noise that seemed to be engulfing the room. She groaned again when she realized it was rainy sleet slashing at the windows. It had probably woken John, and he couldn’t go back to sleep. Right now he was probably down in the kitchen, where it was nice and warm, drinking his first of the seven cups of coffee that he consumed every day.
Should she get up or should she try to go back to sleep? It wasn’t like she had anything to do. She’d never gone out on Black Friday to get a head start on her Christmas shopping, and even if she were the kind of person who did, she wasn’t about to bundle up and get soaking wet trying to save five dollars on something or other. Those days were long gone. These days, she shopped online.
Beth snuggled deeper into the covers and let her mind race. She was wide awake now but reluctant to leave the warmth of her bed. Her thoughts took her to Jake and Luke Olsen in that order. Another quick look at the clock told her Jake was probably up, a bundle of nerves as he got ready for his workup day. More than likely, he hadn’t gone to bed at all. A part of her wanted to call her big brother to wish him well, but the smaller part of her cautioned against it. She’d taken a stand, and she couldn’t back down. After the operation would be time enough to mend fences if that was even possible. In the meantime, she could say some prayers for Jake’s successful recovery. She thought then about going back to church. Maybe they’d let her sing in the choir. She nixed that idea right away when she recalled Alfie’s words when, tongue-in-cheek, he’d told her she should only sing in the shower if the house was empty. They’d both had a good laugh over that.
Her gut told her Jake was going to be okay.
Beth squirmed some more, punched her pillow to fluff it up, and squeezed her eyes shut. Luke Olsen. In a million years she never thought she’d be in the position she was in now. Wild, crazy thoughts flew through her head at the speed of light. Maybe she or Jim Mack should get in touch with Luke’s parents. Maybe she should confront Luke and set him straight once and for all. She wondered if hiring a hit man was out of the question. Of course it was. The thought was too stupid even to contemplate. Okay then, sic Gizmo on him. She could take him prisoner, Giz could guard him, and she and Gracie could pretend they were Dolly Parton and Jane Fonda in that movie Nine to Five. Or she could hire someone to kidnap him, put him on a steamer, and send him to Bora Bora with no money and no ID.
Beth buried her face in her pillow so she wouldn’t cry. How dare that bastard invade her life like this when things were just starting to come together for her. How dare he!
In a fit of something she couldn’t define, Beth crawled out from under the covers, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stomped her way to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, showered, and washed her hair. Twenty minutes later, dressed in warm sweats and heavy socks, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The first thing she did was to turn on the outside lights to see the weather. Her little terrace was covered in ice, and it was still sleeting.
She turned around. There was no coffee. Where was John? She walked through the house and found him sleeping by the fireplace on a pile of big lush cushions and covered with a messy stitched afghan that she’d made when she was sixteen. The fire was low, almost out, just a pile of glowing red embers. She poked at it and added more logs, careful not to disturb John. She knew why he was here. Another bad dream, where he tossed and turned all night and kept her awake. When that happened, he got up and moved to the spare room. How she wished she could do more for him. The shrinks had told her they saw vast improvement, and he had to work it out himself. And he was, slowly but surely. All she could do was be there for him.
Back in the kitchen, she made coffee and settled herself at the table, where she waited for the last plopping sound that announced her coffee was ready. Her gaze kept going to the old-fashioned wall phone. Should she or shouldn’t she call Jake? She wanted to. She wanted to offer encouragement and wanted to . . . not apologize but to say she wished things were different right now. Twice, her hand snaked out to pick up the receiver, but she managed to pull it back both times. Okay, then, if she couldn’t call Jake, she could call Moose. He’d tell her how Jake’s morning was going. Jake’s pickup by the medical van was scheduled for seven o’clock. Twenty minutes from now.
Maybe she should make something to eat. The problem with that was she wasn’t the least bit hungry, so there was no point in messing up the kitchen. She was a coffee-only kind of gal and didn’t require food until around noon. She wished she had a cigarette. She’d quit smoking a year and a half ago after a bad bout of bronchitis. She hadn’t been a real die-hard smoker, just one or two a day, and sometimes she’d go days or weeks without a cigarette. A crutch. For when things got too out of hand with Jake or John.
Beth was up and off her chair in a heartbeat and in the pantry, where she’d hidden some cigarettes for a time such as this. Many times she’d gone to the pantry, reached for her stash, then put it back. This time, she found a pack of cigarettes behind a box of macaroni. She ripped at the packaging right there and stuck the ugly cylinder in her mouth. She ran to the kitchen, poured coffee and cream, and sat down. She coughed and sputtered, but she kept at it until the wooziness cleared in her head. What did people see in these things? Whatever it was, it didn’t stop her from puffing away.
Smoking was a sign of weakness on her part. A sign that she needed a crutch because she couldn’t handle her emotions. Jake would smack her upside the head if he caught her smoking. Her eyes filled with tears just as the digital clock on the range clicked over to a big red seven, with two zeros next to it.
Beth blew out a cloud of smoke. She watched it circle upward before she took the pack of cigarettes over to the sink and dropped them in the garbage disposal. If she didn’t want to smell like a chimney stack, she was going to have to take another shower and wash her hair and put on clean clothes. John would pitch a fit that she’d smoked. “So, okay, I gave in to a bad moment. It won’t happen again,” she muttered.
The phone was in her hands before Beth realized it. She punched in Moose’s cell phone number and waited. She grinned when Moose said, “The medical van got here an hour early because of the bad weather. They left forty-five minutes ago. Jake didn’t even bother going to bed, so he was ready to go when the service called about picking him up early. His surgeon called late last night. It seems he was going on a family trip of some sort and was to leave late today but had to cancel because of the bad weather all across the country. He asked Jake if he was up for surgery over the weekend if today went well. Jake was shocked out of his wits, Beezer, but he said yes. So, it could happen as early as tomorrow. I don’t know why, and this is just my opinion, but I think the surgeon cooked up that story just for Jake. Quick and fast before he changes his mind like he’s done so many other times. The good thing is, Jake has kept all his appointments and has done everything they’ve wanted him to do. I think it’s a go.”
Beth swallowed hard. “Tomorrow! Wow! If it is a go, let me know. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll both go to MUSC and wait while he’s in surgery. Okay, Moose?”
“Yeah, okay, Beezer. I’ll call you as soon as I hear from Jake. He hugged me. Do you believe that guy?” Moose said in a choked voice.
“Yeah. Yeah. I believe it, Moose.”
Beth went back to staring at the photos and mementos on the refrigerator. A picture of her and Jake at Disney a lifetime ago. They were both wearing the Mickey Mouse ears and laughing into the camera. One of the happiest days of her life. A picture of Jak
e in a football pose, all virile and handsome as he grinned into the camera. A stunning picture of Gizmo in the Rose Garden at the White House. A picture of her and some of her friends in their caps and gowns the day they’d graduated from Clemson. Jake had taken the picture and then took a bunch of them to some bar and grill where they served baked potatoes that were as big as melons. Funny how she remembered that.
The pictures were curling at the edges, and the magnets weren’t doing the job of holding them flush with the stainless-steel fridge. Happier days. She could feel her eyes start to burn, so she got up, rinsed her coffee cup, and poured fresh just as she heard the ping of the front door.
Alarmed, she stood still, hardly daring to breathe. A break-in? Luke Olsen? Panic ripped through her as she looked around wildly for the knife block. She grabbed the carving knife Moose had used to carve the turkey and held it tight with both hands, the point sticking straight out. She watched, petrified, as the swinging door leading to the dining room inched open. “Don’t come one step closer!” Beth shrilled. “John!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Whoa! Whoa there, Beth,” Jim Mack said, holding his hands high in the air, palms out. “It’s just me, Jim.”
“Oh my God! I thought you were . . . I didn’t expect . . . I’m sorry,” Beth said as she slid the carving knife back into the slot of the knife rack. “I didn’t know you had left the house. I didn’t hear the ping when the door opens. I must have been sound asleep. When did you go out?”
“Around two. Mind if I have some coffee? Actually, I never went to sleep. Guys like Olsen like to be out and about in the middle of the night, when all the decent people in the world are asleep. I’ve been driving around looking for strange cars. Once a stalker is what we call made, then they switch up. By that, I mean he probably ditched the Jeep Wrangler he was driving yesterday and got a different vehicle. Guys like Olsen love it when the weather turns ugly like it is now. No one goes out, and they’re free to observe, to plot, and to scheme.
“I drove around looking for empty houses that are for sale to see if there were any cars parked in the driveways. Most people do not leave outside lights on past midnight, and there aren’t that many streetlights on the streets around here, so it was hard to see. I got out a few times to walk around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I’ll go out again in a little while. Thanks for the coffee, it’s good. Where’s John?”
Beth threw her hands in the air. He should have been here now the way she’d screamed. “The thing with John is either he doesn’t sleep, like you, or when he does, he is in such a dead sleep the building could fall down around him. The shrinks say it’s residual effects of his time in Iraq. He’s a lot better now than he was when he first got back.” Jim just nodded.
Her breathing back to normal, Beth stared across the table at Jim, and said, “I was sitting here thinking about going to Luke’s parents and talking to them. I need to do something, Jim.”
“No, you do not need to do anything. Do you think for one second that Luke’s parents would give him up? Parents protect their young no matter how old they are. He’s their son. If you were to do that, they’d immediately warn Luke. That could tip him over the edge. Not a good idea, Beth. Let’s just go on the way we have been.
“Did you and John talk about when you’re going back to Nashville?”
“No, we didn’t. I planned on discussing that today. I think it might be better if we leave tomorrow, once the weather clears. Mr. Stonebridge told John that he has some really good security people he can let you use if you need them. Is that something that would work for you, Jim?”
“John did tell me that. We talked about it. But to answer your question, yes. I do need to sleep from time to time. With stalkers, you have to be on your game twenty-four /seven. They try to do the unexpected. You won’t see them for days, sometimes weeks, then they can’t stand it and surface, and when that happens, they’ve moved up a notch or two in their own game plan. As I just explained with the car. He’s using a different one now.”
Beth nodded. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“I would if you don’t mind. But first I want to go upstairs and shower and put on some clean warm clothes. Will half an hour be okay?”
“Sure. Pancakes or eggs?”
“How about both?” Jim quipped.
“You got it.” Beth grinned. Suddenly, she felt hungry herself. She watched as Jim gathered up his gear and headed upstairs to the guest room. She risked a peek into the family room, where John was stirring restlessly. He’d be up shortly.
Back in the kitchen, her thoughts everywhere but on cooking, Beth went about her business by rote. A different car. She would never have thought about that. It made sense. Moved now to a different level. That couldn’t be good, she thought as she cracked eggs into a bright yellow bowl. As she laid out strips of bacon on the center grill, her thoughts took her to Luke’s parents. Jim was right about that, too. What parents would give up their son even when they knew he was in the wrong? She rightly figured some would, but the majority wouldn’t. Especially mothers. Luke had to know he was safe where they were concerned.
While the bacon sizzled, Beth pulled out her big six-slice toaster and popped in three sliced English muffins. Next came the pancake batter, which she whipped up in minutes. She let a drop of water hit the griddle to see if it would spurt. It did, which meant that the griddle was ready for the pancakes.
Beth looked around. Gracie was right; she wasn’t much of a cook, but she had mastered breakfast because it was John’s favorite meal of the day, and now it was hers, too. Unlike Jake, who liked a big, robust dinner. Jake was a juice-and-coffee kind of guy early in the morning.
A smile found its way to Beth’s troubled expression when she heard the shower running in the downstairs bathroom. It meant John was up and ready for a new day and whatever it would bring. Wait, she thought, till he saw the ugly weather outside. John liked warm weather and bright sunshine, the same way she did. The truth was they both liked almost the same thing about everything in their lives.
A while later, just as she was about to flip the pancakes, Beth felt John come up behind her and nuzzle her neck. She laughed out loud. “Hmmmm, you smell good.”
“Not as good as this breakfast you’re making. I could eat a horse, that’s how hungry I am. I’ll take six of those,” he said, pointing to the pancakes on the griddle.
“Coming right up. Jim is upstairs showering. He spent the night outside looking for Luke Olsen. He said Luke has now moved to the next step, which is to switch up cars because you guys made him yesterday.”
“Giz is the one who spotted him. You gotta give credit where credit is due. I figured as much. Jim said that’s probably what he would do. You’re still worried, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah,” Beth drawled as she slid the beaten eggs into a huge, oval-shaped skillet she’d bought from a Rachael Ray cooking show. It was perfect for scrambling a dozen eggs at one time.
“Don’t be,” Jim said, sitting down across from John. “We got your back. You guys planning on doing any Black Friday shopping?” he teased.
“Oh, you wicked man, bite your tongue. You couldn’t pay me enough to go out there today to look for a bargain. My day is dedicated to reading up on profilers”—she smirked at Jim—“and looking up recipes for leftover turkey. And to help Gracie if she needs any extra help. And I need to stay in touch with Moose to see what’s going on with Jake. So, what are you two planning?”
Jim looked down at his heaping plate and smiled. Now this was a breakfast fit for a king. He said so. Beth beamed. “I don’t know about John, but I’m going to do another drive around to check on empty properties and see if there are any cars in the driveways. Or if the houses are empty, Luke might have broken in and stashed his car. I could certainly see him doing something like that.”
“I’ll go with you. Two sets of eyes are better than one. Beth can lock up tight, and we won’t have to worry about her, or I
can stay here. Your call, Jim.”
“Stay with Beth. I can handle this. Tell me more about that one-of-a-kind dog.”
“Giz . . . well, Giz is . . .”
Chapter Eighteen
Mack and John steered clear of Beth all morning long, but they watched her out of the corners of their eyes. She would sit behind her desk for twenty minutes or so, then get up to go to the huge bay window at the front of the house and just stand there, looking out at the weather, which was worsening by the minute. Then she’d go to the kitchen for a soft drink, coffee, or a snack. After which she’d make several phone calls, then go back to the front window. At one point she announced she was going out for a walk. Both men were on her like white on rice.
At one o’clock, Beth started to pace as she gnawed at her acrylic nails. By two thirty, she had the artificial nails off and her real nails chewed to the nub. Mack looked at John and asked if he had any Xanax or Valium.
“I do, but I’m not giving it to her,” John said. “I think you or I should go out there and cruise around to see if there is anything to see. You said you wanted to check on those empty houses to see if possibly Olsen is holed up in one of them.”
“I’ll go. If the guy is that stupid, then he’s freezing his buns off. It’s in the low thirties, according to the thermometer outside the kitchen door. He can’t risk turning on any lights or the heat. People will notice smoke coming out the chimney. Besides, people tend to keep their eye on their neighbors’ empty properties. That’s what good neighbors do. If he is in one of those empty houses, he broke in in the dead of night, when everyone was sleeping. The thing that bothers me is that there are so few streetlights in this development. It’s pitch black out there at night.”
“Okay, okay, but keep your cell phone on. Beth is wired pretty tight right now. I’ll do my best to talk her down. I wish Gracie were here, Giz, too. I heard Beth tell her to stay home because the weatherman said the roads were treacherous. Gracie agreed and said she was going to stay in her pajamas all day and bake a cake. Plus she said Giz is not good on ice. We’re on our own.”
Perfect Match Page 19