Chapter Twenty-Two
Rick and I walked Felicia, Tammy, and Nona to Felicia’s car and then walked back to his truck. We were walking behind the women, watching them giggle and talk. I should have felt left out, but I didn’t. I blamed it on my headache. It was a mighty long walk on that cold January night; the terminal was a good distance from the parking lot. Rick held my hand so my hand was warm and I felt…let’s just say I was warming up on that walk on that cold January night although if I had any sense I wouldn’t be holding his hand. Why was I holding his hand? Didn’t I say I didn’t want to have anything more to do with him? Damn, this brain damage thing was worse than I thought. Now I was doing things I’d had no intentions of doing.
I started thinking about the things I had learned tonight about the case. Was there really someone out there gunning for me? Could someone not want me to find the painting? Did they know where the painting was? I didn’t think so. I think they were actually waiting for me to find it. I wondered if Jason Jr. was shot for the painting or was it for some other reason. You know, like gambling or drugs. What a coincidence that would be. Did I believe in coincidences? Well, stranger things have happened. Like, Rick holding my hand. The man has abs that would make any breathing woman drool. But I was getting off track, back to the painting. I needed to find out if Jason Jr. was into anything else. Surely, the cops would have looked into that. And looky here, I was holding a cop’s hand. What was he going to say, he couldn’t talk because he was busy with a perp? Cody does that to me all the time. He says it wasn’t on purpose. Yeah, like I really drive through that many dead zones. ‘Chloe, did you hang up on me? No, I drove through a dead zone.’
“Rick, do you know anything about Jason Jr.?”
He narrowed his eyes and asked, “What do you mean?”
“You know, was he into drugs or gambling or anything that’s illegal? Something that would get him killed.” Narrowed eyes, growling, and snarling, doesn’t deter ace private investigator like me.
“You need to stop thinking about that. Not tonight,” he smiled and squeezed my hand as I tried to pull my hand away.
“I’m serious, Rick. Was he into anything? I need to know whether it was something else besides the painting,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice calm.
He opened the door for me on the passenger side of the truck and then walked to his side. I could see his expression from the dash light when he started the truck. He was searching my face while I was searching his. He had his cop face on so I couldn’t read anything. I, on the other hand, was sure my expression showed him exactly what I was thinking. I wasn’t giving up on this, no matter what he said. If he didn’t tell me, I was going to ask Cody.
He shook his head, put the truck in gear and said, “You win. Yeah, he was gambling. He’d bet on everything. Sports, cards, he’d even bet on how many fish he’d catch and whether he’d kill anything when he went hunting.”
“Something tells me he wasn’t very good at it.”
“No. He stunk. His wife was threatening to leave him for the second time.”
We drove for a while in silence. I had to find out who his gambling buddies were. That couldn’t be too hard. All I had to do is ask his wife. Right. Just like finding a painting wouldn’t be hard. No, I think this would be easier. Unless Jr.’s wife blames the shooting on me, but why would she? If he was shot because of his gambling, then I had nothing to do with it. Boy, I should keep that happy thought; I may be able to sleep tonight.
I looked at him smiled and asked, “Would you be willing to tell me who his buddies were?”
“Why?” He gave me a side glance with narrowed eyes.
If I told him I wanted to compare the names to my list, he’d take my list. Wouldn’t he and Cody have already thought of that?
“You and Cody took my list didn’t you?” I glared.
“We may have made a copy of it,” he said smiling.
I shook my head. Unbelievable. No, I had no problem believing it. And I was told I skirt the law.
“You could’ve asked me,” I mumbled.
“You were unconscious. We did what we had to do.” His voice was hard.
“Did any of the names match?” I asked with a hard voice.
“No. They didn’t.”
Okay. I was going to have to think about this. I’d talk to Jason’s wife tomorrow. Would I tell Rick? Not likely. I still couldn’t believe they went through my purse to find my list. True, I went through Rick’s wallet, but that was different. It was my purse. Forget it. I would have done the same thing.
Thinking about the Tamereaux family depressed me, and I shivered. Rick must have thought I was cold because he adjusted the heat and asked, “Are you cold?”
I slowly nodded my head and answered, “Yes, a little.” I wasn’t about to tell him this was creeping me out. But still…
I took a deep breath, stared out the passenger window, and said, “I really don’t want to be alone tonight. I know, you’re thinking’ that’s crazy because I’ve had company or have been in the hospital with people all around me.”
He shook his head slightly, smiled and said, “No. I don’t think it’s crazy. Did you talk to anyone about staying with them tonight?” Wow, he wass being chivalrous. He didn’t automatically invite me to his place.
Unfortunately, I didn’t talk to anyone about staying with them. I just realized I was going to be alone. And I didn’t want to be.
I shook my head without looking at him and said, “No.” This was absurd. This was insane.
He didn’t answer. We drove across the Red River without talking, so I knew where we were going. Where else would he go but to his house? What was I doing? But I really didn’t want to be alone tonight, and I didn’t want to wake up Cody. Could I come up with excuses or what?
I smiled to myself thinking about how the last time I drove this way I skidded off the road. I didn’t think we were going off road this time. It was just as dark as it was the first time and it wasn’t raining, but it still looked like serial killer alley.
“Is it always this quiet on serial killer alley?” I asked.
“Yeah. That’s why I like it.” He looked at me winked and added, “No witnesses.”
“Oh, nice,” I said without emotion.
He laughed, and asked, “Would you whether stay in a hotel?”
“No. I paid my rent. I don’t have enough in my account to pay for a hotel.” I laughed. “You could say I’m just using you.”
“That’s fine. Use away,” he said and shrugged.
He turned into the driveway of a nice Acadian-style house with a security light left on. It was one story but with a high roof. The carport was to the side of the house, and the entire front of the house was a deep porch with a nice swing on the far right side. Three steps led up to the front door from the middle of the porch. The entire house was of vinyl siding with dark blue shutters. It was too dark to see much but what I could see was nice.
“I would have never guessed you would have a house like this.” I laughed.
“What? You don’t like it?” he asked, sounding offended.
“No. I love it. I’ve always liked this style house.”
“Oh, well, thank you.” He grinned. “I like it too. The owners had to sell because they were moving out of state. It was only two years old, so I jumped at it.” He glanced at me and said with a grin, “I was told women like this style house.”
“Ah, you bought it to impress women. Figures,” I said, shaking my head.
“No. I really like the house. It’s mine.”
I opened the passenger door while he was walking around the truck and we walked to the side door coming in from the carport. He opened the door, and I stood in the living room. Actually it was between the living room and dining room. The living room with a fireplace was to the left, and a dining room with the kitchen behind it was to the right. A breakfast bar separated the kitchen and the dining room. Straight ahead was a hall with the bedrooms and I a
ssume a bathroom or two.
In the living room, the sofa and recliner were a deep honey brown, and a wooden rocker looked like something a man would buy and it looked comfortable. The dining room had a six-chair oak table that looked worn, with a laptop and newspapers piled on top. Apparently, he read the paper while eating.
Now I felt nervous. What was I thinking? I knew what I was thinking, and I had to stop thinking it and knew what he had to be thinking, and he had to stop thinking it. Good God, I was getting myself confused thinking too much. I couldn’t get involved with Rick. Problem: I wanted to get involved with Rick. We both knew what we were doing.
He pushed me further in so he could enter the house too. I had stopped in the doorway staring at the house. “Let me give you the fifty cent tour.
“As you can see,” he said, waving his arm wide, “living room, dining room, and kitchen. The bathroom is the first door to the right. There are two bedrooms and a master down the hall. Unfortunately, I don’t have beds in the two guest rooms only my bedroom.”
I stepped further into the room and turned to him and said, “I’m not sleeping in your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, okay. Sure, no problem.” He smiled his sexy smile.
No way, buddy. Don’t even think about it. “I’m sorry. I just…look take me home. This is crazy,” I said, walking toward the door.
He put his hand on my arm to stop me and said, slightly smiling, “No, I’m not driving all the way back. You can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.” He put his arm around my shoulder and walked me to the sofa. “Sit here and relax. Turn on TV; I’ll be right back. I’ll get you a T-shirt and toothbrush and place them on the bed.”
“You keep extra toothbrushes? Why? Do you have unexpected guests often?” That came out a bit harsher than I intended. No, I intended it to be harsh. I just didn’t want him to think I was jealous. I had no reason to be jealous.
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I went out of town and bought a double pack, so I have an extra.” He kept his sexy grin on his face. I think he liked the thought of me being jealous. In which I wasn’t. I had no reason to be.
“Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” I said, shrugging. Get a grip, Chloe. “Wait, bring them in here. I’m not sleeping in your bed. Please. I insist.”
He walked off down the hall shaking his head, and I waited while he found a T-shirt and everything else I needed for the night. I stared at the cold fireplace feeling a little dazed. He came back in holding everything and smiling. “Here you go, if you need anything else let me know. I’m in the room at the end of the hall…with the door open. But I would feel more comfortable if you would let me sleep on the couch. I have before. In fact, I fall asleep on the couch all the time watching TV.” He laughed, but he sounded slightly nervous. That was odd. I didn’t think Superman got nervous.
“I’ll be fine. If you sleep on it, then I know I can too.” I smiled, but now I was nervous.
He hesitated, kissed me on the cheek and walked down the hall. I turned on the lamp sitting on a side table next to the sofa and then turned off the living room light. I walked to the bathroom to change into a big faded blue T-shirt and to brush my teeth. I hung my clothes on the towel rack and peeked out. No, Rick. I didn’t know if I was disappointed or not. Oh, well, it was way past my bedtime.
I placed the sheet and blankets on the couch, turned off the lamp and settled down to sleep. I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling; I couldn’t actually see it because it was very dark in this part of the world. Rick’s nearest neighbor was a half mile away. I grew up in a subdivision. We had street lights, and our neighbor didn’t turn off the light in their carport, and it shone into my bedroom.
Okay, Chloe, since you can’t sleep, think about your case. Do not think about Rick.
I still thought someone shooting Jason had something to do with the painting because his father was killed. If he was shot because of gambling, I was off on another trail completely. Could the trigger-happy hunter be related to a relative of the missing painting? If he was, then they were more distantly related, and Petunia didn’t think they were a threat. Threat is the wrong word. She probably didn’t think they knew anything or even cared about the painting. It didn’t seem as though anybody I talked to cared about it, so why would they be any different. I couldn’t talk to everyone Petunia was related to, that would be ridiculous. Yeah, tomorrow I would talk to Jason’s wife.
“What the hell was that?” I flinched and almost fell off the sofa. It sounded like a woman screaming. Calm down, deep breaths. Okay, that was better. It must have been a screech owl; I was told they sounded like a woman screaming. Wait a minute, didn’t panthers sound like that as well? Great. Now I could have a jolly good time lying here listening to all the man-eating beasts in the night. I decided to lay there, stare at the ceiling, and try to guess what all the night sounds were. Maybe a bear would growl, or a group of fox would go barking outside the window. Do fox bark? I didn’t know, but I was sure they made some sort of noise that would scare the bejeezus out of me.
The longer I laid there talking to myself, the thirstier I got. My mouth felt gummy. I crawled off the sofa and slunk my way into the kitchen. I looked down the hall, and Rick’s light was off. I could slightly see down the hall and stared for a while trying to figure out why I could see his open doorway. It was probably his clock or something else glowing, lighting up his doorway. I gave up thinking about it and crept to the kitchen. Don’t think about how Rick was sleeping in a big comfortable bed. What does he wear to bed? Definitely, don’t think about that.
“Ow, ow! Oh, crap! Crap, crap.” I was whispering, but it didn’t matter because I had stubbed my toe. I kicked a kitchen chair and losing my balance, I put my hands out and grabbed the back of another chair and shoved it across the floor several inches. Good going, Chloe. Could you make any more noise?
I sat in a chair brought my foot up in the seat and rubbed my toe, hoping Rick didn’t hear me.
The light came on. He heard me. There I was sitting there with my leg bent and my foot in the chair. It was a good thing I sleep in underwear.
Rick was standing there in a T-shirt and sports shorts frowning. “Why didn’t you turn on the light?” Well, now I knew what he wore to bed.
“I was thirsty,” I shrugged. “I know I could have turned on the lamp, but I didn’t want to wake you.”
He walked to the kitchen and asked, “What do you want to drink? Coffee, Coke and beer are all I have.”
“Water. All I want is water.” I made direct eye contact and glared so he wouldn’t think I made all that racket on purpose. You know, just to bring him to the kitchen with me. I actually would never have thought of that.
He placed a glass on the table and sat in the chair next to me. I had put my leg down so I could spare him the sight of my underwear but was leaning over looking at my foot.
“Let me see your foot,” he said patting his lap.
I placed my leg on his lap, and he massaged my toe and foot. “Ow, that hurts,” I said trying to take my foot back.
“Sorry, but I don’t think it’s broken,” he said smiling so I must be staying at a sadist’s house.
“No. It isn’t. I didn’t mean to wake you.” I narrowed my eyes in case he had any ideas about inflicting more pain.
“You didn’t. I was awake. Give me your other leg.” He grinned. What was he up to? But why complain? This felt too good. It was quickly going from ouch to oh yeah.
“Rick?”
“Yes?” he said making complete eye contact. And he had very nice hazel eyes.
“Is it wrong to feel guilty? I know I didn’t pull the trigger. I’m talking about the Tamereaux family. I feel so bad for them.”
He didn’t answer at first but kept massaging my legs. Oh, he had magic fingers.
He took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, you can’t help it.” He looked at me with sad eyes.
“I feel so sorry for the Tamereau
x family. First, the father dies, and then the son gets shot. Do you think they blame me? Petunia said it wasn’t my fault. But do you think the families will blame me?” I asked looking hard into his eyes.
“No, they don’t. I was there when Reed talked to the family. They think you saved Jason’s life.” He smiled, but it was another sad smile.
“Good, I feel a little better now. I’m Catholic. I feel guilty about everything. I even feel sorry for you. By the way, did you know you have man-eating beasts outside your house?”
He laughed and said, “That was a screech owl.” He then narrowed his eyes and asked, “Why do you feel sorry for me?”
“Where do I start? There are so many reasons. I wasn’t thinking. I could have slept alone at my apartment. I didn’t have to be here. You’re going out of your way to be nice to me. This makes me feel guilty.” I didn’t look at his face when I said that, I kept my head down. No eye contact, it’s easier to say uncomfortable things that way.
“That did cross my mind, but it’s okay you’re here. I want you here. What else do you feel guilty about?” I could see out the corner of my eye he was looking at me skeptically.
“It’s not really guilt; it’s more…my heart almost broke tonight watching you with your SEAL buddies. You would’ve given anything to go with them tonight.” I looked up, so I could look into his eyes. He turned his head and wouldn’t make eye contact, but his grip on my legs tightened. I must have hit a nerve.
“I know it’s selfish, but if you were still in the Navy, I wouldn’t have met you. And don’t say we probably would have because you came in for visits, because you know we wouldn’t have. Although, maybe that would’ve been a good thing,” I said, not looking at him. The table became very interesting. “But considering we aren’t dating and can never date, maybe not meeting would have been a good thing.” The air in the room was getting thin, and my heart was starting to beat faster. Where was this coming from? I wasn’t even thinking about this.
“You don’t believe in destiny? Maybe we would’ve met.” I looked at him, and he was smiling. I noticed he ignored the comment about us not ever dating.
“No. Only guys who are hoping to get lucky with girls say they believe in destiny,” I said dryly.
“Well, you’re right.” He grinned. “But when you have been captured, tortured and fail your psyche evals, you have to change your career path. So that’s what I did when I was through feeling sorry for myself. Chloe,” he said holding onto my chin so I would have to look at him, “I like it here. This is my home, and I like being a cop. It might not be quite as exciting but it has its moments, and I find I’m pretty good at it. Besides, I met the most amazing woman here.” His grin broadened, and it actually made it to his eyes.
I smiled and shivered, and it didn’t have a lot to do with the temperature of the room. It most likely had something to do with him massaging my thighs. Amazing. He called me amazing. One can assume he was talking about me since he was making eye contact with me when he said it.
He scooted his chair closer to mine. “Are you cold?” he asked working his hands around my waist.
“Yes, a little.” Okay, so I lied.
Rick moved my feet onto the floor and moved me onto his lap. “I can warm you,” he said kissing my neck, my throat, and my mouth.
My T- shirt came off, and I asked, “How did you do that? I thought I was sitting on the tail?”
“Trade secret.” He winked.
“Did you learn that in cop school or SEAL school?” I grinned.
“College.”
“I guess you had lots of experience. How many women have you had? Four hundred?” I asked dryly. I was feeling, well, for lack of a better word, exposed, sitting on his lap without my shirt on. My heart was beating fast, and my lower stomach was tingling. I was pretending I could breathe. Concentrate. Inhale, exhale. Okay, I could do this.
“Not quite four hundred.” He laughed.
We kissed, he helped me stand up, and we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other all the way to his bedroom. I helped him with his clothes, which was awkward but we managed. Man, he looked beautiful. Can a man look beautiful? Yes. When a man looks like Rick, he can look beautiful. Unfortunately, he can also see my body. Beautiful? Maybe we can turn off the lights.
“I told you the next time I slept with you, you wouldn’t be wearing clothes,” he whispered.
“Rick?”
“You have got to be kidding me. You aren’t going to tell me to stop now are you?” He said with wide eyes and added quickly. “But if you don’t want to. We can stop.” He swallowed. “Just say the word.”
“No, it’s not that, but…”
“I have condoms.”
“Good, but that’s not what I was gonna ask.”
“Then what?” he asked sounding very perplexed.
“Does this mean I can call you sugar bear now?”
“Baby, you can call me anything you want.” He laughed.