Be Mine (15 page)

“It’s great to see you,” he grinned, releasing my hand. “What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been in D.C. for the past five years with the FBI. What in the hell have
you
been up to?”

“Language, son.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I apologized, heeding my second warning. I’d lost my ability to automatically filter my vocabulary, and Southern ladies demanded manners.

“I’ve been in private practice for a few years now,” King explained. “I practice here, and I still take call at the hospital in the ER about once a month to keep my trauma skills up.”

“I’m just surprised to see you here,” I replied.

King was a ladies man and a man about town–no matter what town he was in. “I always thought you’d stay in Baltimore or head back to Jersey after you finished.”

“I came back to Shadeland and my parent’s place, Rose Hill, after my mom passed away. If you’d asked me five years ago I would’ve said exactly that, but sometimes home is where you’re needed, right?” he paused, tilting his head in Mom’s direction. “And after I got here, it was hard to leave.”

“I understand,” I nodded. His family’s plantation was an extraordinary place filled with tradition, and I suddenly felt envious of his decision.

“How are we doing today?” King asked, turning his attention to Mom.

“Fine,” she answered quietly.

“Do you remember me, young lady?” King asked lovingly. I could see where especially the older ladies could appreciate not only his skills as a doctor, but also his charm as a gentleman. “I’m King. I’m your new doctor.”

Mom nodded.

“I want to talk to you about your meds,” he continued, getting back to business as he began flipping through her chart. “We’ve changed a few of your medicines and I want to make sure you aren’t having any side effects.”

“No. I’m fine.” The talk of medicine and illness robbed the smile from her face.

“Good, I want you to tell me if you start to feel dizzy or have any nausea.” King observed her carefully and watched her reactions to his questions.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice growing smaller, and her internal light dimmer.

“I’ll check back with you later today. I’m gonna get out of your way and let you have a good long visit with this guy,” he smiled, pounding my chest twice with his open hand, knocking the breath out of me.

“Ugh,” I choked. “I’ve already had to whip one of your security guards today. Don’t make me take you down too.”

“That was you? No way!” he howled.

I nodded in confession.

“Hell, you’ll be the talk around the nurses’ station for weeks.”

“I thought you only hung out at nurses’ stations,” I grinned, raising my eyebrow.

“Nah,” King continued quietly so Mom wouldn’t hear. “You know me. I’m still single, but I’m definitely not into dipping my pen in the company ink. Have you tied the knot?”

“No,” I shook my head thinking how quickly time had passed. “God, it’s good to see you. Let’s get together while I’m here and have a bourbon or two.”

“The doors at Rose Hill are always open to you,” King grinned, knowing any gentleman worth his salt was at his best while overlooking his own piece of earth on a perfect veranda, sipping a small batch bourbon.

I smiled and shook my head.

“I’ll give you a shout,” he waved.

“Momma,” I said, still astonished to see King. “I can’t believe King is your doctor.”

“Who?” Her voice was tiny, as she stared into the distance beyond me.

“King.” I took her hands again. “Don’t you remember King? He grew up here. We went to Cornell together.” She blinked hard, staring through me.

“Momma?”

And with that she was gone. She turned her head and stared out the window. I could barely hear her breathe. I placed my chair beside hers and held her hand. If she was coming back, I wanted to be here.

My front coat pocket buzzed, and I quickly stepped into the hallway.

“Callahan.”

“Mac, it’s Dan.” Dan Kelley was my superior in D.C. A hell of an agent, he let me run with most of my operations. “More on 56621. I’m having the info sent to you now.”

“Thanks.”

“You still sure you want this case?” questioned Dan.

“I don’t think I have a choice.”

“I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would give yourself a choice,” he replied. “Just keep me in the loop.”

“Yes, sir.”

I killed the call and stepped back into Momma’s suite, hoping to find her lucid once more.

Instead she stared out the window, slowly shutting her eyes. I didn’t know when she would be coming back to me, but I was willing to wait.

*

“Nancy,” I heard a voice behind me. “Nancy?” I sat up and realized I had dozed off in the chair.

“Hello,” I blurted, quickly standing to meet the elegant older lady slowly making her way into Mom’s room with her walker.

“Oh, hello there,” she said, surprised. “I’m Marilyn Peterson, a friend of Nancy’s. I was just coming in to check on her and to bring her some fresh flowers from the garden.”

The small and clearly cultured woman gestured without pointing to the flowers in her basket on the front of the walker.

“Yes.” I shook her hand, still in a daze from my nap. “That’s so nice, Mrs. Peterson. I’m Mac Callahan. I’m Nancy’s son.”

“Yes, dear.” She handed me the wildflowers, her hand slightly shaking. “I know who you are. Your momma and I have had many a conversation about you.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised,” Mrs. Peterson quipped as she took my hand to ease into the seat next to Momma on the couch.

“No,” I started. “Well, maybe a little. I never know if she’s going to remember me or not.”

“Well, honey,” she said. “We all get old. Some of us die, and some of us hang on by the skin of our teeth. Some are hanging on and don’t have any teeth.”

I immediately liked this elegant lady full of spunk. I knew she was the kind of person Mom would’ve been friends with outside of Autumn Valley.

“Mrs. Peterson,” I began, still smiling from her remark.

“Call me Mimi, sweetheart,” she interjected. “It’s what I prefer.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I conceded. “Do you visit Momma often, Miss Mimi?”

“Oh, I expect about every day we get together.”

“Thank you for caring about her so much.”

“Well, we old Southern ladies have to stick together,” she frowned, already distracted by her next thought. “Son, can I trouble you to get some water in that vase on the windowsill for those flowers you’re still holdin’ onto?”

“Of course. My apologies.” I jumped to retrieve the empty vase that sat with letters and cards to my mother under the large arched window.

“Get an aspirin from her cabinet in the kitchen, honey. It will make the flowers last longer in this godforsaken place,” Mimi moaned, watching my every move.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Nancy, honey. It’s Mimi. I’m here to sit with you for a while.”

“Mimi, dear,” I heard Mom say as I fished one aspirin from the bottom of the bottle.

“How’re you feeling today?” continued Mimi. “I met your handsome son, Mac.”

“Yes, he’s here to visit.”

“Here, Miss Mimi,” I said, handing her the aspirin. “I’m happy to do the flower arranging so you don’t have to get up.”

“That would be lovely, Mac,” she smiled, closing my hand around the aspirin we were exchanging. “The aspirin goes in the water, dear.” I walked away, turning to watch them briefly, thinking they were still young girls in older, more delicate bodies.

“Nancy, I received some very good news today.”

“Do tell,” Mom said while leaning in, seemingly engaged again with the world.

“My granddaughter has taken a job here.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“It
is
wonderful. I love seeing her, and now I’ll get to see her every day.”

I filled the vase with water and dropped the aspirin in before arranging the flowers. I turned to show my work to Mimi for approval. “Not Martha Stewart,” I confessed. “But not bad, right?”

“Oh, goodness dear,” Momma crooned. “Martha Stewart is a Yankee. Let’s not try to emulate her, shall we?”

“She’s a Yankee that went to prison,” Mimi added.

“I beg your forgiveness, ladies,” I said, bowing my head with a grin.

I sat down, not wanting to intrude on girl time, but not wanting my visit with Mom to be over so soon. I hoped that Mimi could fill me in on how Mom was doing on a day-to-day basis. “So, Miss Mimi,” I started. “How long have you been at Autumn Valley?”

“Oh, I expect anyone who’s been here any length of time feels like it’s been too long,” she sighed. Her short, curly grey hair and blue eyes made her look as feisty as I believed her to be.

“Tell me more about your daughter. I couldn’t help but overhear your good news.” I wanted to change the topic before it went in an ugly direction.

“Granddaughter,” she corrected.

“Yes, of course.” I felt my phone buzz in my breast pocket. “Please pardon the interruption,” I said and quickly checked my text messages, diverting my attention from Mom and Mimi for a split second.

MICAH: Call me.

“And what is your lovely granddaughter’s name, Miss Mimi?” I asked, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

“Sam,” she said, catching me square in the eye.

“Sam Peterson?” I choked.
The amazing, blue-eyed beauty with long legs and chestnut hair?

“Yes, dear,” she said, raising her eyebrows and peering over her glasses at me. “Do you know her?”

“No,” I chimed, trying to suppress my delight. “Not really.”

Mom smiled, and Mimi gave me a telling look. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to step out and make a phone call. Miss Mimi, do you mind to sit with Momma while I take care of some business?”

“Honey, do whatever,” Mimi groaned, shooing me out of the room like a fly. “We visit all the time – read books, the newspaper – if we aren’t in the obituaries, we know it’s gonna be a good day.”

“Of course you do,” I replied sheepishly. “My apologies.”

I stepped into the hallway to call my assistant Micah, leaving my guilt behind in the room.

“Mac,” Micah barked, disregarding a formal hello. “How are things on the old homestead?”

“What’s up?” I asked, ignoring her question. “I got your text.”

“We received another anonymous email today about 56621. Same encrypted account and anonymous server.”

“Somebody wants to cover their stinkin’ ass,” I muttered, lowering my voice and looking down the hall at a nurse moving in and out of a room. I was thankful to have Micah in my life. Most of the employees at the Bureau were tough, big-city types, and Micah was no exception. She was Betty Bureau all the way, all the time. She had a mouth like a trucker and worked like she owned the place. We behaved more like siblings than co-workers, and fought like brother and sister although we both suffered from ‘only child syndrome.’ Micah was the one friend, male or female, I’d take shit from. She knew it, and unfortunately seemed to enjoy it a bit too much at times. She was fearless and would tell me when I was being an asshole – something most assistants would never dare to do.

“The boys in IT can track the IP address, but it’s going to take a couple of days,” she rasped. “Personally, I would get a little distracted knowing my mom was in the facility.”

“I’m aware of that, Micah,” I snapped.

“Look, dickhead, I’m on your side. Remember?” she shot back. “Get in, take the asshole down at the nursing home and get back to D.C.”

“Yeah, I will. Yak atcha later,” I said flatly. It was my standard goodbye to Micah. It was my way of saying,
I’m sorry I’m a dick, but you know I care
.

She always gave me the same loving reply, “Only if you’re lucky.”

As I strolled back into Momma’s suite, I decided it was time to get back to Lone Oak where I could set up a makeshift office and look through the case files.

“Well, he was a fine catch of a beau in his day,” Mimi confessed, unaware I’d returned. “But now he looks like something the dog’s been hiding under the porch.”

“God love his heart,” Momma added.

“Ladies, I think I’m going to head to the house for a little while to get some paperwork started. Momma, I’d like to join you for supper tonight.”

“That would be lovely, dear,” she smiled.

“Miss Mimi, it has been a pleasure meeting you.” I took her hand and gave it a kiss, then turned my attention to Momma for a kiss on the cheek. “I will see you later…” I paused to give them a bow. “By all means have a wonderful day.”

I stepped out of Autumn Valley and into the warm Alabama sunshine, taking a deep breath. I had work to do, and it was high time I got down to business. I looked across the parking lot and there she was – magnificent, and too sexy to miss.

My heart raced at the very sight of her. Her curves were mesmerizing and her proportions perfect. She was stunning – long and lean. Making my way to her, I couldn’t help but run my hands along her flawless body as I approached her from behind. Caressing her from her bottom up, she was as smooth as silk from a heavenly spindle. She demanded attention and respect, and her almost pure feline appeal made my blood boil.

She was Dad’s favorite – a 1963 Aston Martin DB5 convertible with a Vantage engine. There were only nine made, and it was his pride and joy. He’d jokingly named it Pussy Galore because Sean Connery drove one in
Goldfinger.
When I was a kid, I thought the car made my dad look like James Bond. Now that I was older, I knew it was a panty-dropper – the kind of car that got you laid.

A truly unselfish man, his car was the one thing Dad did just for himself. After he’d died, Mom wanted me to take it, but the car, like him, was a part of home. I didn’t want to tarnish it with the scum of D.C.

“Aw, hell,” I muttered as I stroked her hood before climbing in and firing her up. She purred like the hot piece of ass she was and I was anxious to shift her gears hard and fast.

She wasn’t my usual car of choice when I came home, but this time I felt it was okay, almost warranted. If anything, it made me feel closer to the man I always seemed to fall short of being.

The drive to Lone Oak was too short, but I enjoyed the few moments I had alone with Pussy. I made the turn that led home and sighed. Just the sight of Lone Oak in the distance caused my shoulders to drop, the tension in my body losing its grip.