After Dark (34 page)

    She giggled. An honest to goodness
giggle. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually felt so
lighthearted, even if the sensation lasted only a moment before her
mind reminded her of her troubles. Kent's murder. Will's amnesia. The upcoming
trial. Her uncertain relationship with Johnny Mack.

    "Hey, I don't like that
frown," he said as he stacked the last glass on the drain board.
"This has been a good day. I put the fear of God into James Ware, and
Will remembered that he didn't kill Kent. So you should be smiling."

    "Yes, I know. And I'm grateful."
She shrugged. "I suppose I was just wishing that I didn't have the
trial facing me and Will didn't have more sessions with Dr. Agee to go
through and that the relaxed, happy feelings I've enjoyed this past half
hour could last."

    Johnny Mack wiped his wet hands off
on the floral-print dish towel, and with his wickedly devastating smile
broadening, he came toward her, his steps deliberately slow.’’I think I
know how I can make you even happier.'' He grabbed her by the waist and hauled
her up against him. "And I promise that I'll do my best to make those
good feelings last as long as possible."

    When he took her into his arms and
nuzzled her neck with his nose, she giggled again, but quickly shoved against
his chest. "We can't… can't do… something in the kitchen. What if Lillie
Mae were to wake and-"

    He ended her protest with a kiss.
Possessive and demanding. An all-consuming urgency. She tried to think
rationally, to make some show of protest, but the longer he kissed her,
the less she cared whether or not someone walked in on them. When he cupped
her buttocks, lifted her up and pressed her against his erection, she
stopped thinking altogether.

    She clung to him, returning his
kiss with equal passion. He backed her up against the wall and forced his
hands beneath the waistband of her slacks. And while he caressed her
hips and butt, she grasped his shoulders to brace herself. Bringing his
hands up and out, he hurriedly unzipped her gabardine pants and tugged
them down her hips and thighs. When the garment caught around her ankles,
she raised one foot and then the other, then kicked her slacks aside.
Johnny Mack lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around his hips. And
all the while he continued kissing her.

    She had never experienced anything
tins wild and free and totally exhilarating. Desire so strong she thought
it would burn her alive controlled her actions. Since they had made love
yesterday morning, thoughts of having sex with Johnny Mack again kept creeping
into her consciousness, no matter how hard she tried to keep them at
bay.

    When he came up for air, his breathing
ragged, he mumbled against her lips, "Maybe we'd better not finish
this here."

    With her legs around him and his
lips wetting a path from her mouth to the vee opening of her blouse, he carried
her toward the pantry. Using her behind as a battering ram, he shoved open
the partially open pantry door and made his way inside. He placed her
on the counter top that ran parallel from one floor-to-ceiling shelf to
an identical one on the other wall. Without a word exchanged, he removed
her panties, unzipped his pants and freed his sex. Lifting her again, he
positioned her so that when she wrapped

    her legs back around him, he thrust
up and into her. She keened with pleasure and held on to him when he raised
and lowered her hips, creating unbearable friction as he moved in and
out of her. Bouncing lunges. Hard, unsteady, undulating rhythm. Mouths
devouring. Body attacking body with fierce need. Lust dominating
every action.

    The moment Lane felt the first
tight pressure that signaled the onslaught of an orgasm, she clamped
her nails into Johnny Mack's shoulders and whimpered his name.

    "That's it, baby, give me what
I want. Come for me."

    He increased the tempo, hammering
into her until she cried out and fell apart in his arms. Her climax hit her
like a tidal wave. While the aftershocks rippled through her body,
Johnny Mack jetted into her. Groaning, trembling, he held her tightly to
his sweat-dampened body, until he had drained every ounce of energy from
his own climax.

    She eased her legs from around his
hips and settled her feet on the floor, but kept her arms around his neck.
As he swooped down to take her lips in another kiss, she lifted her face
to his.

    When he ended the kiss, she refused
to release him. He slapped her bottom playfully and said, "Let's take
this upstairs to my bed."

    She could think of nothing she wanted
more. But they weren't the only ones in the house, and they had already taken
an enormous risk having sex in the pantry. What if she shared Johnny Mack's
bed tonight and didn't wake in the morning before Will got up? What if her
son discovered that she had stayed the night? How would he react? What would
he think of her?

    "If Will were to know that
I-"

    Johnny Mack placed his index finger
over her lips. "This isn't some illicit affair we're having. And
eventually we're going to have to tell Will how we feel about each other.
But if you want to be discreet for now, then I'll make sure you're back in
your own bed before daylight."

    We're going to have to tell Will
how we feel about each other. Wasn't that what he'd said? But how do we feel
about each other? she wanted to scream. If you love me, why don't you just
say so?

    "I want to be discreet,"
she replied.

    He grinned as he straightened
his pants and zipped them, then bent down, picked up her discarded panties
and handed them to her. "Come on."

    He tugged on her hand, and she followed
him out of the pantry and back into the kitchen. He lifted her blue gabardine
slacks off the floor by the bar stool and held them out to her. She grabbed
her slacks and slipped into them hurriedly.

    "You go on up, honey," he
told her. "I'll turn off the lights down here and double check to make
sure the doors are locked and the security system is on. When I come upstairs,
we'll take a shower together and then we'll-"

    "If you start telling me what
we're going to do, I'll never leave and we'll wind up back in the
pantry."

    "Then, get out of here before
it's too late," he kidded.

    With a contented smile on her face,
Lane left him in the kitchen and headed up the back stairs. Just as she reached
the landing, she heard a loud bang. Then a second blast quickly followed.

    Her mind registered the sounds,
and she made a reasonable assumption that the noise had come from a
nearby car backfiring.

    But suddenly she realized that
the sound had been caused by something else. Gasping for breath, she
clutched the stair rail as adrenaline pumped through her body. The sound
had been a gunshot. Whirling around, she raced down the stairs and back
into the kitchen.

    "Johnny Mack?"

    No reply.

    "Johnny Mack!"

    She found him by the bay windows,
sprawled out, lying facedown on the floor. Blood oozed from a bullet wound
in his back and from a second wound in his arm.

    Lane felt as if she were going to
throw up. Her stomach was tied in knots, her nerves were frazzled and her
head throbbed. She gazed through the solid glass wall in the waiting room
for the surgical intensive care unit at the Samuel Noble Memorial
Hospital. The medical facility had been renamed in honor of her great-grandfather,
who had donated a sizeable amount of money in the late nineteen-thirties
for a new wing added to the original building. In the almost empty parking
lot below, the tall security lights spread a muted, cream blush over the
dark pavement and the neatly manicured shrubs and flowers planted in
narrow, rectangular-shaped beds. The traffic light at the end of the street
in front of the hospital flashed caution yellow.

    Strange, she thought, how life
went right on, unchanged, as if nothing significant had happened. The
sun would rise in the east shortly. The streets would fill with traffic.
The floor nurses would change shifts at seven. People would eat breakfast,
take their children to school and go to work. Phones would ring, radios
would blare out the latest tunes and billions of e-mail messages would
be exchanged.

    How was all that possible? Didn't
anyone realize that nothing was the same? That life had been drastically
altered? She felt as if the end of the world was approaching and only one
tiling could halt her personal Armageddon-Johnny Mack Cahill coming
out of surgery alive. She had lost him once, but after fifteen long years
he had come back to her. She couldn't lose him a second time. If he died…

    Who could have done such a reprehensible
tiling? Who had lurked outside her house, waiting for an opportunity
to shoot Johnny Mack in the back?

    Lane shuddered involuntarily
as she remembered hearing the shots and finding Johnny Mack's still body
lying on the kitchen floor. She had screamed loud enough to wake everyone
in the house. While she had remained huddled on the floor by Johnny Mack,
Lillie Mae had called for an ambulance. Lane had come to the hospital
in the ambulance with him, while Quinn followed, with Lillie Mae and
Will, and arrived at the emergency room seconds behind the ambulance.

    "Mama?" Will came up behind
Lane and wrapped his arms around her. "He's going to be all right. He
has to be."

    She patted Will's arms where they
crisscrossed her waist. "I love him. I've never loved anyone else."

    "I think he loves you,
too," Will told her. "He sure acts like he does."

    As Lane turned in her son's arms,
she grasped his hands and offered him a weak smile. "He loves you,
Will. Of that I'm certain. He wants to be a father to you, if you'll let
him."

    "If he…" Will pulled away
from Lane, turned his back on her and faced the glass wall. "Dammit,
why doesn't somebody come out here and tell us what's happening? He' s
been in surgery for nearly five hours. What's taking them so long?"

    Lane laid her hand on Will's back.
"I keep telling myself that no news is good news. We have to hold on
to the hope that the doctors can save Johnny Mack."

    Will swerved around to face Lane.'
'Who could have shot him? And why?"

    "I've been asking myself that
same question, and I haven't come up with an answer yet." But a couple
of suspects came to mind. James Ware for one. And Miss Edith for another.
Each of them knew how to use a rifle. Miss Edith was an avid skeet shooter,
and after he had married her, James had begun attending shooting events
with her.

    '' I want you two to sit down and
try to rest." Holding two canned colas, Lillie Mae came up beside
them. "Here"-she held out one to Lane and the other to
Will-"I got y'all a Coke a piece. Figured y'all could use a little
caffeine and some sugar. I know how when you get nervous, Miss Lane, you
have a problem with nausea. A Coke will settle your stomach."

    Lane accepted the cola.
"Thank you, Lillie Mae. I do feel a bit queasy." She popped the
lid and put the can to her lips. The cold, syrupy drink tasted good, and after
several sips, her agitated stomach began to settle down a bit.

    Just as Will opened his canned
drink, Lane heard Quinn Cortez's voice coming from outside in the hallway.
She had been so absorbed in her own misery that she hadn't said more than
two words to Quinn in several hours. She had almost forgotten that he
was there. But sometime in the past few minutes, he had left his chair
in the corner of the waiting room and stepped out into the corridor.

    "Can't your interrogation
wait?" Quinn asked. "Lane's in no shape to answer any questions."

    "All I need is a statement,"
Buddy Lawler said. "I've got an attempted murder investigation
going on here, maybe even a murder investigation if Johnny Mack doesn't
pull through."

    "Dammit man, will you please
lower your voice," Quinn demanded. "There happens to be a woman
and a kid in there"-Quinn hiked his thumb toward the waiting room-''who
don't need to hear any speculation about Johnny Mack dying."

    "Look, Cortez, I have no intention
of upsetting Lane or Will. But I have to ask Lane a few questions. My
people have conducted an investigation at the house and come away
with pretty much nothing, except a good guess that somebody stood outside
Lane's kitchen and used a rifle to shoot Johnny Mack."

    Lane handed her cola to Lillie
Mae. "Will, you stay here with your grandmother."

    "Looks like Buddy could show
some decency and wait about questioning you," Lillie Mae said.

    "He's just doing his
job." Lane patted Lillie Mae's arm as she passed her and walked straight
out into the hall where the two men were still arguing. "What do you
need to ask me? " She looked directly at Buddy.

    "I'm sure sorry about this,
Lane."

    Buddy sounded sincere, but she
knew better. Noble's Crossing's chief of police had as much reason to
despise Johnny Mack as Miss Edith or James. Maybe more. After all, he had
been the ringleader in the gang who had nearly beaten Johnny Mack to death
fifteen years ago. And he had been the one who had dumped him into the river.