Authors: Vicki Hinze
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #General
“I can’t.” She squeezed a throw pillow, half ashamed of that truth. “It runs too deep.”
“Try.”
Her mouth went dry. “He’s dangerous. That’s the first thing that always comes to mind. I don’t know why.”
“God gave us instincts for a purpose. You don’t have to understand, just listen.”
Joe’s tone carried a warning. Did he know something she didn’t about Robert? NINA?
Before she could ask, he went on. “I want you to know that I care about you, Beth.”
“We’ve become good friends.”
“That too, but this is different.” He paused, then added, “Man-to-woman different.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea. Women usually love me. I’m crazy about you, and you treat me like a kid brother. It’s demeaning—and don’t tell me you didn’t know it. That would make it worse.”
“You’re crazy about me?” Her heart beat hard and fast, then harder. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Laugh and I’ll put salt in your coffee instead of sugar.”
“I’m not laughing.” Her jaw was on the floor. He was crazy about her?
Her?
Impossible. Couldn’t be. “I just … had no idea.” She didn’t dare believe it.
“Maybe I’m just crazy.”
Guard your heart. Guard your heart. He’ll break it. You know he will
. “That’s far more likely.” Guys like him didn’t hang their hearts on women like her. They went for models and beauty queens. The women who at sixty were still stunning. “You genuinely like all women. I’ve seen it in the way they react to you.”
“It is genuine. I think they react to that, but Nick says—”
Another Shadow Watcher. “What does your mother say?”
“We don’t talk much. We never did.”
That had been hard for him to admit. “She was immune?”
“Mostly pickled.”
“Guess that was hard on you and your dad.”
“On me and my brothers. Dad was pickled too.” He sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about the family, Beth.”
He never did. But only now was she getting a grip on why. “I’m trying to figure you out, Joe. You say you’re crazy about me.”
“Yeah, I did say that.”
“Did you mean it?”
“I always mean what I say. Otherwise, scars can cut deep, and you know it.”
She’d never told him about Max, but it sure sounded as if someone else had. “Then let me know you so I know what to make of your craziness. You like most women. Are you crazy about all of them?”
“Of course not. I respect them all. Not that I don’t respect you too, I do. Very much.”
“Because I’m a decent businesswoman?”
“You’re an amazing businesswoman, but no, that’s not why.”
“What is then?”
“Do we have to talk about this?”
“No.” She worried her lip. “But if you’re really crazy about me you will.”
“I’m not liking this, sha.”
Warm. Endearing. A hint of his Cajun accent. She loved that. “Me either.” Closing down was just stage setting. Max set those stages well. “Would you rather I ask Mark about you and your family? What it was like when you were a kid?”
“Go ahead.”
“He can’t tell me, can he?” A strange sadness swelled in her. “You haven’t told him?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Why not? You guys seem so close.”
“We are close.”
“Well?” She let silence fall. And stretch. And yawn.
Finally, he sighed. “It’s not pretty, okay? I didn’t have your kind of childhood.”
“Both of your parents drank. I understand that.” What had they done to him?
“No, you don’t. They ran out of money before buying food, but there was always vodka in the house—when we had a house, or a barn, or a tent. Vodka was their poison of choice.”
“You went hungry?” Her stomach knotted.
“I really don’t want to talk about this, Beth.”
“I know, Joe. But I think you need to.” Not idle chat, this. “Is that why you’re charming?”
“You think I’m charming?”
“I’m serious, Joseph.”
“I can hear that you are. So am I.”
“Are you going to talk straight?”
“Trust me. You don’t want that.”
“I do, Joe. I really do. I’ll even admit I need it.”
Another sigh. Deeper. “Fine. I grew up on the wrong side of town. Two brothers, both younger. Parents who didn’t just drink but stayed drunk. They
didn’t know what planet they were on much less which one we were on. It was a small town. I had to prove I wasn’t like them. So I worked at being a good listener, at picking up on other people’s moods. I learned to be what I needed to be to get by.”
“What do you mean, to get by?”
“Food comes to mind first. I’d target large families—they always had extra food because they didn’t know who’d be home or extra hungry at a given meal. I’d show up. I was polite, I was appreciative, and I’d get to eat.”
“And you’d bring home food to your brothers?”
No answer.
“Did you, Joe?” He’d never let them go hungry, would he?
“Always. My childhood prepared me well for my later work.”
As a Shadow Watcher. Chameleon. Infiltrating hostiles. Doing what needed done. Thinking steel to get through hard times. “It did.”
“God has a way of giving us what we need, even when we don’t want it at the time.”
He was ashamed. That’s why he didn’t talk about his childhood in Louisiana. “Yes, He does.” Beth hugged the pillow tighter, her heart aching for the boy who’d had a man’s worries in feeding his brothers. “It probably saved your neck a time or two.”
“It has.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve never told anyone about that. Not even Mark.”
Yet he’d told her. “You trust me.”
“So far.”
“You won’t regret it. That’s a promise.”
“You keep your promises?”
“Absolutely. It’s my nature.”
“Your nature is to nurture. You’d bite your tongue to spare feelings.”
“True, but I won’t lie.”
“I have a question.”
“Okay?” She braced.
“Why do you do that—nurture everyone?”
“Boy, don’t I wish I knew. I worry about everybody.”
“I noticed. Nora, Sara, Clyde—I’m really sorry about Clyde, Beth.”
“Me too. He was a remarkable man.”
“You loved him.”
“I did.” Her eyes burned. “To him, I was special.” Not ordinary. Not average.
“You are special.”
“He thought I was.” And he’d thought so at the time she most needed to feel special and didn’t even know it. After Max’s grand exodus.
A phone rang in the background. “Gotta go, gorgeous. Info coming in I need now. I’ll call again as soon as I can.”
“Just one thing, Joe.”
“What?”
“I want to be clear. You didn’t call just because I asked you to. You would have called me anyway?”
“Beth, you were attacked. I just told you I’m crazy about you. Whether or not you want to believe it, I needed to know you were okay. Worry is part of the crazy-about-you package.”
She smiled, her emotions in riot. “In that case, and because you trusted me, I’m going to take you at your word, so if you’re joking around, knock it off.”
“I’m not joking around.”
A little thrill raced through her. “It’ll last maybe a week.”
“Live dangerously and let’s find out. Gonna risk it?”
She laughed. “You break my heart, Joseph, and I’ll have to sic Nora on you—and Peggy Crane.” The Crossroads director was as tenacious as Nora.
“Woman, you’re a piece of work. I tell you you’re gorgeous, I’m crazy about you, and you threaten to unleash Rambo and Cupid on me. Sha, you need to ease up and just be. You’ll get used to me.”
That was the problem. She could get used to him so easily, and then he’d recover from this insane but temporary interest in her and return to his usual kind of woman. “I am used to you.” But she hadn’t yet answered how much
he was like Max. “I’m okay short-term. But long-term, you need someone more your type.”
“I have a type?” His voice took on a hard edge. “Is this your way of saying I’m not good enough for you, Beth?”
Shame
. “Don’t be absurd. You’re amazing.”
“So my type isn’t someone like you. It’s … what?”
“Your phone is ringing again.”
“I asked you a question.”
“Some gorgeous superwoman.”
“If I weren’t relieved, I think I’d be insulted, but forget about that. Honey, the truth is, I have to stretch to touch the soles of your feet.”
Tears stung her eyes. Was that genuine? Sincere? “Now you’re baiting me.”
“I bait for fish. I never play games with anyone’s heart. It’s bad form.” He paused while the phone rang yet again. “Bad timing, but I really have to go now. Be careful—and don’t tell anyone about this phone. Not even Sara.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
“Me? Trust a woman magnet?”
“You’re clearly immune to the magnet. Trust the man.”
Oh, but she wasn’t immune. She so wasn’t immune. “Okay, but I wouldn’t mind if you finished up fast and got your body down here.”
“Are you coming unglued?”
“I don’t come unglued.” Why had she said that? She’d lost her mind and her dignity.
“ ’Course not. You miss me, eh?”
“Like a sore tooth. The truth is, I haven’t gotten a decent cup of coffee at Ruby’s since you were here. The waitress doesn’t fawn over me.” She’d loved their conversations at Ruby’s. He was a wonderful listener and told fascinating stories. And bluntly put, she needed a hug. Strong arms around her, a solid chest to lean against. She could stand on her own, she could hold up others, but it’d sure be nice to lean on Joe just for a while.
“No risk of getting an overinflated ego around you. It’s always about the coffee.” He feigned a sigh. “I’ll do what I can. Keep the phone on your body at all times. Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Not in your purse, on you. I’m always just on the other end.”
“On me. Got it.” His calm seeped to her. Grateful for it, she smiled. “Same here.”
The doorbell rang.
It wasn’t yet dawn. Before Beth could drag herself awake, Sara bolted past her to the door. With her hand on the knob, she stopped cold and shot Beth a terrified look.
“What?” Beth made a mental note to insist that Sara throw those stupid shoes away. They were crippling her.
“It’s going to be bad news. Good news would be a phone call from him.” Sara’s eyes went wild. “Oh, mercy. I can’t open the door, Beth. I—I can’t …”
Beth walked over and clasped Sara’s shoulder. “Step back a little and I’ll open it.” Beth moved her enough so the door wouldn’t bang her shoulder. “You’ve got to get a grip.”
“Please, don’t let it be bad.” Her staggered breath hitched her chest.
“Sara, quit. Enough trouble finds us on its own. Don’t go looking for extra.”
“I feel it, Beth.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I have all day.”
All day
. She hadn’t been to bed. Still dressed as she had been last night. Beth sent her a warning look. “You know what will happen if you don’t calm down.”
Shaking hard, Sara squeezed her hands until her knuckles went white. “Lecture me later. Answer the door.”
Beth swung it open. Jeff Meyers and the rookie, Kyle, stood on the porch.
Beth automatically looked at Jeff. His pug nose was red from rubbing, and he’d ruffled his brown hair. He did that when he was upset. “What are you doing here before the crack of dawn?”
“We need to talk.” Same suit he’d worn to the club. A bit more rumpled but a good fit on his broad shoulders. “Destin police asked me to drop by.”
Destin police?
“What for?”
“Is Robert home?” Jeff asked.
“No.” Jeff had no idea how much Beth resented that.
Sara burst into tears. Beth frowned. “He left on a business trip yesterday morning, e-mailed from his phone that he’d call when he got to the hotel, but he ran into car trouble and called to say he was getting a rental and that he’d call when he got to the hotel. That’s it. He hasn’t been heard from since. Sara is … worried.”
Compassion rippled over Jeff’s face. Dread chased it. He shot a concerned glance at Kyle.
Sara sniffed, dabbed at her nose. “Is he dead, Jeff?”
The detective blinked. “What?”
“Robert,” she spat at him as if he were a dimwit. “Is he dead?”
“Not so far as we know.” Jeff’s gaze skidded past Kyle to look at Beth, and then settled back on Sara. “We were hoping he’d be here and we could talk to him.”
“Come in.” Beth waved them into the grand entry and on to the living room.
Sara wadded bits of her skirt in her fists, crushing the raw-silk fabric. “I’m sorry.” Her apologetic little laugh sounded hollow and never touched her eyes. “I just … I was terrified.”
What Sara feared Jeff had come to tell her was only too clear. But if anything, Jeff looked more serious. He had something else to say, and it wasn’t good news. “Sit down, Sara.”
Beth turned her toward the pristine white sofa. Sara perched on its edge, looking brittle enough to snap.
Jeff and Kyle sat on chairs near the bank of windows separated by long glass tables. Both looked as if they’d rather be anywhere else.
What has Robert gotten into now?
“Why exactly are you looking for Robert?”
Kyle ignored Beth’s question and asked his own. “So Mr. Tayton phoned yesterday morning when getting a rental car. When was that, Mrs. Tayton?”