Divorced, Desperate and Delicious

Lacy punched in the security code as Chase called it out to her. He’d insisted she drive around the condominium parking lot four times to make sure he didn’t see anyone watching. She finally parked the car and cut off the engine. “Where’s your condo key? And where will I find the key to the locker?”

  “Change of plans, I’m going in.” Chase raked a hand over his face, and gave the parking lot another glance.

  “No. Someone will recognize you.”

  “Lacy—”

  “Tell me I’m not right, Chase. Do you really think you’ll get inside without someone calling the police?”

  She saw the truth of her words hit him and she pressed: “Please. No one will think twice about me walking in. I’ll go in and out. Nothing to it.” But even as she retained a calm front, Lacy’s stomach danced a tango. Jeepers! She didn’t know how Chase did this kind of thing every day.

  “Lacy, please.” He brushed a hand over her cheek. “Stay here. I’ll go.”

  “And if you get caught now, what’s going to happen? You’ll go to jail before you can prove what Zeke did. You know I’m right.” She closed her eyes to the warmth of his touch. She loved him. The realization would have sent her heart racing if it hadn’t been already dancing to keep up with her stomach.

  “The key.” She held out her hand. “We’re wasting time.”

  “It’s unit two-fifteen.” His jaw clenched, but he dropped the key in her palm. “The key card is bright blue with ‘Ace Gym’ written on it. It will be either in a basket on my bathroom cabinet or in the top left drawer of my dresser in the bedroom. You go in, get it, and get out. I’m giving you three minutes and then I’m in after you.”

  “Ten,” she insisted. “Give me ten.”

  “Five.”

  She reached down for the vase of flowers sitting in the console between the two seats. The smell of roses filled her nose. Opening the door, she gave him a quick smile.

  “In and out, Lacy,” he warned as she closed the door.

  She nodded and held the vase of roses in front of her face. Reaching the stairs of the condominium, her heart pumped fear through her body, making her tingle, giving the hairs on the back of her neck a reason for a standing ovation. But deep down, Lacy had to admit she felt gutsy and a little bit high. A real Charlie’s Angel, she thought.

  The bottom floor of the building had people strolling around. Lacy got in the elevator, her face shielded by green sprigs of baby’s breath. The elevator doors started to close, then out of nowhere a hand appeared between them. Lacy bit her lip, relieved when two women hurried inside. Giving them personal space, Lacy took a step back.

  A brunette with big brown eyes stepped in beside her, and a tall blonde, sleek and sophisticated and wearing a pink silk suit, took the place in front of her.

  “Oh, hi, Jessie,” the brunette said, touching the blonde on the arm.

  Jessie? Was this make-dinner-and-have-sex-with-her Jessie? Lacy peered through the roses to get a better look, but with the woman’s back to her, she could only see a cascade of hair. Nice hair.

  “Hi,” Jessie answered. “How’s the job search going?”

  “Terrible,” the brunette answered, and then cut her eyes to Lacy with interest. “You wouldn’t be delivering them to condo four hundred, would you? I could use a sweet gesture. Or a job would do.”

  Lacy shook her head. “No. Sorry.”

  “How about two-thirty?” The woman named Jessie chuckled and slowly turned to face Lacy.

  “Sorry.” Lacy lowered the flowers to get a good look, and silently prayed the woman had a hook nose or short chin.

  “A girl could hope.” Jessie shrugged and smiled.

  Yeah, Lacy thought. A girl could hope, but some hopes were futile. Jessie didn’t have a hook nose—not even one unbecoming feature. She looked like a magazine model. No wonder Chase visited her twice a week. Lacy blinked and tried to deal with the emotions playing havoc with her heart.

  “I heard you’re moving out next month and putting the condo up for sale,” the brunette said as the elevator came to a stop.

  “My ex and I are retying the knot,” Jessie said.

  But you’re still sleeping with the man I love twice a week. Lacy’s grip on the vase tightened.

  “Well, congratulations,” the brunette answered as the doors opened. “Oh! Did you hear about the cop who lives on your floor? They think he’s dirty, and now they think he’s dead.”

  “Yes, I heard. That’s terrible.” Jessie frowned, as if disturbed by Chase’s apparent demise. But only slightly disturbed? Lacy bit her lip. Was that how little Jessie cared about Chase? She wasn’t going to attempt to defend him or at least go teary-eyed at the possibility of him being dead?

  You don’t deserve him.

  “Later.” Jessie walked out of the elevator.

  Lacy suddenly realized she was supposed to get out, too. Staring at the roses, she pushed past the brunette. She moved fast down the beige-carpeted hall, listening to the padded footsteps of Jessie moving the opposite way. “Two-twenty. Two-nineteen.” She read the numbers on the door aloud, grateful she’d actually turned the right way. Finally, at the end of the floor she found unit 215. A door opened and closed down the hall. Jessie’s door.

  Lacy’s heart picked up speed. She closed her hand around the key, and glanced back to make sure no one was watching. Her breath caught in her throat as she unlocked the door and slipped inside. With the vase of flowers held to her face, she shut the door.

  Her gaze moved about the condo. Chase’s condo. She took in its ransacked condition—the tan leather sofa set at an odd angle, a metal entertainment center lying flat on the floor with stereo equipment scattered everywhere. Someone had been here . . . could still be here. She glanced back at the door and fought the urge to run.

  Swallowing her fear, Lacy listened to the silence, assuring herself she was alone. Realizing she couldn’t waste time, she set the vase of flowers down on a smoked glass coffee table and darted past the mess on the floor to the hall.

  She pushed open the first door, and peered inside a bathroom decorated in yellow. Items from the cabinet littered the floor. A noise, a light creaking sound, sliced through the silence. Lacy knelt and wrapped her hand around the first thing she could. Staring at the toilet plunger, she decided it offered more protection than a fish.

  Slowly standing, she backed up against the wall. Hesitating, she listened. The noise had seemed to come from the unit upstairs, and she relaxed, but she wasn’t ready to give up the plunger yet.

  The door next to the bathroom led to a small room with a desk and a computer. Papers and office supplies covered the beige carpet. Lacy took a few more steps. The closed door at the end of hall had to be it: Chase’s bedroom. She prayed the items weren’t so scattered that she couldn’t find the key card to the locker. Shaking, she looked at the knob. Every closed door seemed to tease her with the possibility of someone being on the other side. She gripped her plunger and nudged open the door. The light squeak of the hinges made her pulse race.

  Her gaze went straight to the king-sized brass bed centered on the far wall. Pillows and blankets lay tossed across the mattress. Lacy couldn’t help but wonder if Chase brought Jessie to his place. If he made love to her here. The ache of jealousy pricked her heart as she envisioned the tall blonde wrapped in Chase’s arms on that very bed.

  Pulling her attention from the ruffled blankets, she looked around. Drawers from the oak dresser lay scattered on the floor. She frowned. It might take her a while to find the key. Stepping inside, she knelt and picked through the items, hoping to spot a bright blue card.

  She turned over a picture frame. Shards of glass fell from the eight by ten. Behind the last remnants of broken glass, the picture caught her attention. Lacy’s heart stopped beating. She stared at the picture of Chase decked out in a tux and . . . a woman dressed in a wedding gown. The frame slid from her fingers, landing near the toilet plunger.

  Staring at the image, Lacy couldn’t believe i
t. Why hadn’t he told her he’d been married? The question hung like a slab of slaughtered beef in the freezer of her heart. Then a cold and terrible thought surfaced. What if . . .

  “No.” She shook her head. He was having casual sex with Jessie. He couldn’t be married, too. But she couldn’t stop herself from looking around, checking for signs of a wife.

  She spotted the jewelry box on the floor near the edge of the bed. Earrings and a pearl necklace lay scattered beside it. Her stomach clenched. Forcing herself to stand, she grabbed the plunger and rushed to the closet. When she spotted the eight to ten dresses and pastel-colored sweaters hanging beside an array of men’s shirts, she felt sick to her stomach.

  She closed her eyes as her vision became clouded. No wonder Chase hadn’t wanted her here. As she turned back around, her toe hit the edge of a drawer. There, beside loose change and a box of large condoms, lay a blue card with Ace Gym written in bright purple letters.

  She picked it up, curling her fingers around it. Feeling numb inside, she headed back down the hall, through the living room and out the condo door.

  • • •

  Six minutes. Chase sat in the passenger seat of the van and stared at his watch. One more minute and he was going in. He grabbed for the door at the same time he spotted Zeke’s car pull into a parking spot on the other side of the lot.

  “Damn!” Chase reached for his gun on the floorboards, his gaze glued to the entrance of his building.

  The front door swung open and Lacy came hurrying out, carrying a . . . a toilet plunger? Where the hell were her flowers to hide her face?

  Keeping his gaze mostly on Lacy, he turned the key in the ignition. The van motor sputtered to life. He glanced back in Zeke’s direction and saw the man stepping out of his car.

  Lacy kept walking toward the van. Zeke took a few steps from his car, stopped, and stared at her. Chase knew the exact moment Zeke recognized her, because his posture changed and he reached to check his gun. “Double damn!”

  Even from inside the van, Chase heard Zeke call out. Lacy either didn’t hear it or pretended not to, because she continued toward the van, bearing the toilet plunger like a sword.

  Chase’s breath caught as Zeke hesitated. Then Zeke stared after Lacy as if second-guessing himself. Chase’s hold on his gun tightened.

  Two cars away, she paused, as if noticing the running engine. Zeke called out again. Lacy swung around. She saw Zeke, shrieked and lunged for the van door. Zeke bolted after her.

  “It’s Zeke!” She jumped up in the driver’s seat, slung the plunger and card key at Chase. A second later, she jerked the van into reverse.

  Zeke appeared in front of the van. “Stop!” He raised his gun.

  Chase dove across his seat. He snatched Lacy’s arm and jerked her down. The bullet crashed through the windshield, missing Lacy by only inches. She stared at him, her eyes round with fear.

  With no time to assure her, he slid beneath her upper body until he sat on the edge of her seat. He pushed his foot on top of hers to hit the gas. With one hand, he pressed her into his lap. He used the hand with the gun to turn the wheel.

  The van had moved only ten feet away when another bullet crashed through the windshield. This one exited through the passenger window. Lacy screamed and attempted to sit up.

  “Stay down!” Trying to drive, perched on the edge of his seat with her upper body across his lap and her legs crowding the floorboard, was near impossible.

  Lacy jerked up. The sudden movement caught Chase off guard and he fell between the seats. Lacy took hold of the wheel. Chase rose up just as the van crashed into a parked red Buick.

  “Oh, Lordie,” she muttered.

  Thrown back on the floor, Chase scrambled back into his seat. “Move.” He kicked her foot off the brake and hit the gas pedal. She jerked the wheel and slammed into a curb.

  “Jeepers!” she shouted, and bounced against him.

  Another bullet hit the side of the van. Lacy yanked the wheel back to the right.

  “Let me drive,” Chase snapped.

  “No!” Another bullet slammed into the back of the van. The noise caused her to jerk. When she did, she hit a black sedan. “Please tell me those aren’t real bullets!”

  “Let me drive!” He clasped his hand around her arm to jerk her away, but she had a death grip on the wheel. As the van screeched in a turn, the bumper caught a light pole.

  “Kathy is going to kill me!”

  “Move!” Chase looked out the window and saw Zeke running back to his car.

  Lacy hit the brakes as she approached the exit gate, but Chase stomped his foot on the gas. The sound of wood cracking and grinding metal rang loudly as the van screeched through.

  “Oh, Lordie!” Lacy squealed again. “I’m dead for sure! Dead! Dead!”

  “Turn right,” Chase snapped, half sitting on the edge of Lacy’s seat “Turn, damn it.”

  Lacy jerked the wheel right. The tires screamed and the smell of hot rubber rose from the street through the shattered windows.

  “Now turn left.” Chase shot a glance over his shoulder, then stared at her. “Turn!”

  “Kathy’s going to kill me.” Lacy pulled her foot off the gas.

  “Zeke is going to do it for her if you don’t drive. Now go or get out of my way.”

  She glared at him. “I am going.”

  He glared right back. “Faster.” He rammed his foot on top of hers again.

  “Stop!” She jumped and the van veered to the right. “I can’t drive with you doing that.”

  “Then let me do it,” he insisted.

  “No.” She slowed down when the light turned yellow.

  That did it; Chase latched onto her elbow and slung her across his lap so he could take the wheel. She landed hard on her knees between the two seats. She muttered something, but he ignored her. He’d apologize profusely later; right now he had to make sure he got her out of danger.

  “I was driving,” she snapped as she crawled into the passenger seat.

  “And doing a lousy job of it,” he said. “Buckle up.”

  His grip on the wheel tightened. He took a sharp turn at the light and spotted Zeke’s car peeling out onto the street behind him.

  “Shit.” He pushed the gas pedal to the floor. Tires screeched again. In the distance he heard sirens. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you do this. You had no business getting—”

  “Why, because I might learn you’re married?” she yelled. “That’s why you didn’t want me to go inside, wasn’t it?”

  He digested her words, but kept his gaze between the road and the side mirror where he saw Zeke’s car racing after them.

  “I’m not married.” Chase jerked the wheel, taking the next corner so sharply that the van leaned on two wheels.

  “Oh, God.” Lacy slammed into the door.

  “Buckle up, damn it!” Chase could hear sirens and he accepted the hopelessness of running. The only thing that concerned him now was Lacy’s safety.

  “Liar. I saw the picture and clothes in the closet.”

  Her accusation caused him to flinch. He made another right as the van struggled to stay on the road. Behind him, he heard more tires burning rubber in an attempt to keep up. When he glanced back in the side mirror, hope flooded through him. Racing along beside Zeke’s car was Jason’s Mustang, the siren flashing from the dash.

  Chase turned to Lacy. “That’s Jason back there. As soon as we get to a good spot, I’m going to pull over. I’m going to step out of the van. You stay in your seat and keep down. You got that?”

  Tears rimmed her eyes. The hurt he saw in those beautiful baby blues coiled like a rattler in his stomach.

  “Why did you lie to me? Why did you do this?”

  He stared back at the road. “I didn’t lie, Lacy. My wife died. I just . . . I kept some of her things around. I wasn’t ready to let her go. I didn’t even think about you seeing her things.” He shot his gaze left, then right. The street was empty. The time had come t
o call this game to an end. He gave the side streets one more glance, not wanting any civilians to be involved.

  “I’m pulling over.” He turned to her and saw from her expression that she believed him about Sarah. Relief flooded his chest

  She jutted her chin out in a familiar stubborn angle. “I’m getting out with you.”

  His relief went up in smoke. “No!”

  “Yes!” She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “The cops won’t shoot you if I’m there.”

  “It’s Jason,” Chase said. “He won’t shoot me.”

  “Zeke’s there! He’ll shoot you, Chase. You said he would.”

  Chase gritted his teeth. “Jason won’t let him shoot me.”

  “I’m getting out with you,” she insisted.

  “God damn it, woman! You’re not getting out of this van!” Chase slammed his foot on the brakes. The siren wailed louder, tires squealed behind them. “Don’t you dare move.” He pointed a finger at her. “I mean it. You keep your ass in that seat.”

  In the distance, Chase heard Zeke call out, “He’s got a gun! Watch him!” Jason yelled back, but he couldn’t make out the words. Chase opened the door and threw his gun as far as he could.

  “I’m coming out,” he yelled. “I’m unarmed.”

  Offering her one more glance, Chase wished he had the time to offer her a kind word, a gentle touch. The luxury didn’t exist. He stepped from the van. He slammed the door shut and took a deep breath, not knowing if it would be his last. In spite of what he’d told Lacy, he knew Zeke preferred him dead. Throwing out the gun might make Zeke hesitate, but honestly it would be easy for the man to shoot now and try to excuse his actions later.

  Chase kept his hands high and took two more steps, wanting to get away from the van—away from Lacy.

  “Stop right there, Kelly!” Zeke shouted.

  “No!” Lacy screamed.

  Chase cut his gaze around, his breath coming up short. Lacy had one leg out of the vehicle, that damn plunger wielded in her hand like a weapon. “Get back in the freaking van!” he yelled, glancing at Zeke.

  Jason’s voice boomed out, “Put your gun down, Zeke.”

  “You bastard!” Zeke screamed, raising his gun.

  “Don’t do it,” Jason yelled. “It’s over, Duncan.”

  “It’s not over.” Zeke’s tone was so cold, Chase prepared himself to take the bullet. But God damn it. He wasn’t ready to die.

  “You’re going to pay for this,” Zeke said. The ice in his voice now echoed his expression.

  “Put the gun down.” Jason pointed his Glock at Zeke.

  Chase glanced at Lacy and stepped farther away. His eyes shot back to Zeke.

  The man sneered. “I wanted to see you in Hell with me. But I know how to hurt you more.”

  Before the bastard moved, Chase knew what he planned to do. “No!” He threw himself at Zeke.

  Zeke swung his gun around, aimed toward the van, toward Lacy, and fired.

  Chapter Twenty-seven