Chance of a Lifetime (9 page)

Staff brought dinner, but Paulette didn’t eat more than a few bites. She took her pills without much protest and begged Emily to hold her hand until she fell asleep.

Since it was already dark outside, Emily didn’t see that it mattered much. Though Emily liked to be in her apartment by dusk, this was an exception.

After a few minutes, Paulette fell asleep. Emily tucked her in as if she were a child and tiptoed out of the room.

Halfway down the hallway, she saw Tannon Parker storming toward her. In his rain slicker and boots, he looked like a giant.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped when he was five feet away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She felt as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. She circled past Tannon and headed for the door.

But he caught up to her. “How is she?” he asked more calmly.

“She’s fine. She’s asleep.”

He kept walking beside her until they reached the first of two doors.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked. “Aren’t you going to stop in and check on her?”

“You’ve already done that. I’ve got my hands full of problems tonight. She won’t know if I’m there or not.”

Emily hesitated as she glanced out at the stormy night. “She asked me to stay and hold her hand. She’s so afraid of storms. It was raining the night of the wreck, you know. A terrible storm, she told me.”

Tannon swore under his breath. “No, it wasn’t. I drove up from Denton. I had to drive right by the wreck to get home. My folks and yours were already gone, but I saw the car. The flares were still burning on the road. It hadn’t been raining.”

She started to argue. He’d been in shock. He probably hadn’t noticed.

Tannon’s arm circled her waist. “I’ll run with you to your car. This rain isn’t letting up for a while.”

“No, that’s—” was all she got out before he shoved the door open and they were running. The mountain of dirt by the construction site seemed to be melting across the temporary boardwalks. His arm held her solid against his side.

When they reached her car, she dropped her keys. As they both knelt to pick them up, he noticed the flat tire.

“I’m not changing that in this weather.” He shoved her car key in his pocket. “I’ll take you home, then come back and take care of this when the rain stops. I’m guessing it was probably a nail with all this construction going on.”

“It’s not your problem,” she shouted over the rain. “I’ll call someone.”

He opened the door to his truck parked beside her. “I’m already out in this mess and wet. I’ll take you home, Emily.”

She wanted to argue, but in truth she had no idea who she’d call for help. The few staff at the library were older and didn’t need to be out on a night like this. Pamela Sue would probably never find her and she didn’t know her neighbors’ phone numbers.

She climbed in, more mad at herself for being so helpless
than at him for being so bossy. She was already shivering by the time he walked around to his side and started the engine.

“It’ll be warm in a sec,” he said. “I can hear your teeth rattling.”

They sat listening to the pounding outside, and then he put the truck in reverse.

“Your mom was happy this afternoon. She seemed happy and funny almost like I remembered her.”

“Great.” He didn’t sound like she’d just given him good news.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mom lives in a mountain range, Emily. For every high, there is a low.” He took a deep breath. “Thanks for visiting and making her day bright. Maybe she’ll be on the road to recovery.”

“Is it all right if I visit her again?”

“Of course. Just don’t get caught up in her moods.” He shook his wet hair. “Speaking of moods, I was in a bad one when I yelled at you back there. I’m sorry. It’s turning out to be one hell of a night.”

“And now you have to deal with me.”

“You’re the only bright spot, believe me.” He pulled into her apartment’s underground parking garage and parked by the elevator. Pulling a card off his sun visor, he offered it to her. “If you ever need anything, call me. No matter where you are, I’ll come get you.”

She wondered if he could tell she was trying to think of a friend who could help, or maybe he was just reading her mind again. “Thanks for the ride.” She didn’t take the card. He wasn’t that close of a friend. If she let him too close, she might let long-hidden memories see light. “Don’t worry about my flat tire. I’ll call someone to fix it tomorrow and I can walk to the library in the morning.”

He didn’t say a word as she opened the door and jumped out. He just watched her as she ran for the elevator being held open by one of her neighbors. When she stepped inside
and pushed the top floor, he was still sitting in his pickup watching.

The next morning, her car was parked in the garage. The keys were in the seat along with one of his cards. She didn’t know whether to be glad or angry that he’d helped her when she hadn’t asked for it.

R
ICK
M
ATHESON MOVED INTO
W
INTER’s
I
NN
B
ED-AND
-B
REAKFAST
without going back to his apartment. Hank had packed up a few bags of clothes and loaded them in his truck when he circled by to get Rick in front of the hospital. Anything remaining in his apartment could wait until he was well enough to go back home.

Dr. Addison Spencer waited with him, keeping up a steady lecture on what he could and couldn’t do. Mostly what Rick heard was, rest for a few days, get the back wound checked by the end of the week, and don’t do anything strenuous.

Rick assured her lawyers rarely do anything strenuous, but he promised to take no more exercise than walking to work until his body stopped aching. Even knowing someone was out there wishing him harm didn’t frighten Rick. The town was full of people who were related to him by either blood or marriage. No matter where he went there would be someone watching over him…as long as he stayed away from back stairs. Martha Q had been right
about the bed-and-breakfast having a fine alarm system, so he wasn’t worried about being able to sleep at night.

Alex told him to keep where he was staying a secret, but he had to tell his mother and she’d tell her sisters and of course they’d tell their children. Rick grinned. If he hadn’t had to worry about being killed, he might find it interesting that he was probably the most talked-about person in Harmony this week.

Several of the nurses left him their numbers and offered to drop by and check on him, but the last thing Rick needed was women problems on top of all else.

Hank drove him to Winter’s Inn and helped him up the front porch stairs. Rick had bruises all along his back, making the muscles tight.

Mrs. Biggs opened the door before they reached the porch. She had his room ready for him and had made a light supper for whenever he was ready. She also explained that Martha Q had gone to Amarillo for a few days of shopping. She planned to be back on Friday for a meeting, and then on Saturday morning she would head to Dallas for her face-lift. Mrs. Biggs said the stress of being beautiful was taking a toll on poor Martha Q’s nerves.

Rick limped inside as Hank went back for the luggage. He’d made it to the middle of the entryway when Hank handed over his two bags and said good-bye.

Mrs. Biggs took over helping him to his room.

“Are you single?” Rick asked when he saw the cozy room, mountains of pillows, fireplace going in the hearth below a big-screen TV with basketball playing. “This is heaven.”

“I’m widowed, Mr. Matheson,” she said simply. “And don’t try that Matheson charm on me.”

An hour later he asked her to marry him again when she brought him shepherd’s pie and apple cobbler.

“Now, Mr. Matheson, you can’t keep asking me that. I’ve got grandsons almost your age.”

“I know, but they don’t make women like you anymore, Mrs. Biggs. Most of the girls I’ve dated use the oven to
store supplies. Half cuss more than any man I know and none of them wear anything like that sweet perfume you have on.”

“It’s cinnamon, Mr. Matheson. You’re still under the effects of drugs.” She picked up a book that had fallen from his bed. “I wanted to let you know that one or both of my grandsons will be by every night to check on me. They both said they’re glad you’re staying at the house, but my boys worry about me.” She hid her smile behind her fingertips. “My Border says Martha Q is tough enough to frighten any trouble away, but he’s not so sure about you.”

Rick laughed. The big grandsons weren’t exactly boys. Brandon “Big” Biggs was at least six foot six and probably weighed three hundred pounds. His little brother wasn’t far behind. Border Biggs shaved his head so all his tattoos would show and the last Rick heard he was playing in a band. “I’m glad they’re coming by. If anyone was planning to break in here, they’ll think we have a security team walking the grounds.”

Mrs. Biggs smiled with pride. “I don’t want to brag, but my boys would thump anyone a good one if they messed with me.” She moved toward the door. “They usually have dinner with Martha Q and me on Sunday night. Should we continue in her absence?”

“Sounds like a good plan, if I’m invited.”

“Of course.”

Just before she left, Rick added, “Starting tomorrow morning, I’ll have breakfast in the kitchen. I may only work an hour tomorrow, but I plan to work.”

She nodded and closed the door. He let his body melt back into the pillows. It had cost him to act as if he wasn’t in pain, but Rick didn’t want anyone worrying about him. He’d morphed from hurting to being mad. The first thing he planned to do when he got to his office was to go over the list of every person who’d walked in since he started practicing. If he didn’t find a name there he’d go through each trial. Not just defendants, but witnesses, families, friends, victims. Somewhere in the list was one name. One
person who’d walked away hating him enough to wish him dead.

No, not wish him dead. Rick had to find someone who hated him enough to make it happen.

He leaned back forcing his body to relax. Forty-eight hours ago he’d been leaving his office feeling like he was floating without a direction. A few missing steps had changed all that. Rick now had a mission.

T
UESDAY

I
T WAS ALMOST NOON ON
T
UESDAY BEFORE
T
ANNON
P
ARKER
made it back to his loft apartment over Parker Trucking’s offices. He’d spent the night dealing with a rig that had jackknifed on a windy road in the Oklahoma panhandle, and then he’d driven back to Harmony.

Shedding his clothes as he walked, he headed for the kitchen, needing food even more than he needed sleep.

Nothing.

He called his secretary downstairs and told her to order him the usual groceries. Bread, milk, sandwich meat, canned soup, cereal, frozen pizza, and beer. She knew the brand names without having to ask.

“Oh,” he added, “a couple of six-packs of diet root beer.”

“I didn’t know you liked root beer.” She sounded more curious than interested.

“I don’t,” Tannon said, seeing no need to explain.

She took the hint. “I’ll have your order delivered in twenty minutes, Mr. Parker.”

“Good. Leave it outside the elevator door. I’ll be in the shower. Call me if we have any other problems.” He’d stood on the highway most of the night making sure the wreck was clean, but they were still waiting for the mechanic to call in a total on the engine’s damage.

A half hour later he’d downed a mixing bowl of cereal and decided he needed sleep more than the office needed him. But when he fell into bed, he didn’t relax. The long night played out in his mind. The truck would cost him thousands, but thankfully the driver wasn’t hurt.

He hated stormy nights in the trucking business almost as much as he hated snow.

Emily crossed his mind. She thought it had rained the night her parents had been killed. He’d seen the tears in her eyes when she’d told him. She wore her emotions close to the surface and he could always see everything she felt in her big brown eyes.

He took a deep breath and forgot about rainy nights. Emily was all that was on his mind as he drifted into sleep. The memory of how her eyes had sparkled when she’d rationed out her chocolate kisses for dessert was his last thought.