Blood Stains (23 page)

“Duty calls,” he said, then thanked Becky for lunch and eyed Maria. “Walk me to the door?”

She followed him out, then stopped just inside the front door. She knew he was going to kiss her even before it happened and would have been disappointed if he hadn’t. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t known him long. She just knew she liked him, which was something she hadn’t felt in years.

“Are you going back to the hotel soon?” he asked.

“Not for a while. I feel like I should stay as long as Becky will put up with me. Being here with her, among all these things from my past, has given me hope that my memory will return in full. I don’t want to miss an opportunity.”

He pulled her into his arms.

“Lady…you’re so getting under my skin.”

Maria put her arms around his neck and tilted her face up for the kiss.

“I like you, too,” she said softly, and then he swooped.

One kiss led to another, then another until he finally broke off with a groan.

“Lord, have mercy. I want. I want
you
,” he whispered, then swept another quick, hard kiss across her mouth before leaving her standing in the doorway, wanting him back.

But he was gone.

Maria shivered as she went back into the kitchen to help clean up the dishes.

Becky eyed the pensive expression on Maria’s face as she came back and smiled to herself. Her baby was falling for the cop. She just hoped no one got hurt out of the deal. When Maria grabbed a dishcloth and began cleaning off the table, Becky had a moment of déjà vu. She paused with her hands in the dishwater and just stared.

“You have to know, right now I feel like twenty years have disappeared, and Sally and I are cleaning up from lunch, like we have a hundred times before.”

Maria looked up. “Tell me stories,” she said, as she came back to the sink.

And so the afternoon passed.

When it came time for Maria to leave, Becky handed her a key.

“What’s this?” Maria asked.

“A key to my house. I have a hair appointment in the morning, and you might want to start packing before I get back.”

Maria frowned. “Oh, I don’t feel right taking your key.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t really know me. I might—”

Becky sighed. “Honey, I know enough. Take the key. I should be back around eleven. How about I bring some KFC home with me?”

“You don’t have to feel obligated to keep feeding me, either. I could take you out somewhere later.”

“We’ll see,” Becky said. “I don’t suppose you’d consider moving out of the hotel and staying here until the case is closed? It would save you a lot of money, and you know I have room.”

Now Maria was really touched. “I don’t know. That’s a huge imposition,” she said. “Let’s take this one day at a time and see how it goes.”

Becky shrugged. “Okay. It’s your call, but just know that from my standpoint, you’re free to come and go as you please.”

“Thank you,” Maria said, then went into the living room to sort through what needed to be shipped, separating the things into piles of breakables and unbreakables, and getting them out of the middle of Becky’s floor.

She left late that afternoon with a head full of stories and a peace in her heart that she hadn’t felt since the day her drama had begun.

Franklin was desperate. He’d called in a favor to find out why the Sally Blake case had been reopened, and the news couldn’t have been worse. Maria Slade had supposedly witnessed her mother’s murder. There was added info about coming back with a journal and amnesia that he hadn’t quite understood. It wasn’t until he learned of an upcoming appointment with a hypnotherapist to help Maria remember what she’d suppressed that his blood ran cold.

He couldn’t let that happen, but his go-to man had gone and gotten himself killed. He was getting desperate. Did he take the chance of trusting someone else? What if that went wrong, too? What if the perp was caught and, to save himself, confessed to who had hired him? The more Franklin thought about it, the more certain he was that he was going to have to do the job himself.

Then reason surfaced. He’d gotten away with murder once. He wasn’t stupid enough to think he could go back in with guns blazing and get so lucky again. Maria wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t living in a seedy part of Tulsa and living a life that, to the general public, didn’t count. She was obviously a reputable woman, and her death would raise a stink. No one would buy it was an accident. Not after she’d come forward as a witness to a murder. But this time there was no dirty cop to hide evidence, and this couldn’t be helped. He had to control the situation, and for that to happen, the witness—the link between himself and Sally Blake—had to disappear.

He grabbed his Rolodex, desperate for a solution to his problem. As he was flipping through, a name caught his eye. He paused. This would mean shelling out more money, but he had that—though he’d planned on using it as a buffer during the election. However, if this woman really had seen what happened, there wouldn’t be an election to worry about. As he reached for the phone, it occurred to him how convenient it was that he’d spent his life representing the criminal element. This would be a way for them to give back. Then he frowned. The only problem with that theory was that the criminal element didn’t have a conscience, and he was going to have to do some fast talking to make this work.

Beads of sweat lined Tom Jack Bailey’s upper lip as the blond-haired beauty astraddle him worked her hundred-dollar blow job.

She was good. But what she was doing felt better. The climax was only seconds away, and Tom Jack was already losing his mind, when his cell phone began to ring.

He cursed beneath his breath. What the hell had possessed him to download Merle Haggard’s “Okie from Muskogee” as his ring tone? It immediately reminded him of where he’d come from and the father who’d beaten him on a regular basis, before he’d gotten big enough to fight back.

The cell kept ringing and ringing. He grabbed it and flung it across the room, where it hit the wall before falling to the floor. And kept on ringing.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, and closed his eyes, struggling to hold on to the feeling.

But the image evoked by the ring tone was too strong. The last time he’d seen his father, it had been pitch dark near the banks of the Canadian River, and he’d been covering his body with shovelfuls of red Oklahoma dirt.

He lost his erection and his temper, both at the same time, and slapped the blonde.

“Get the hell out!” he roared.

She scrambled for her clothes, dressing as she moved, and was out the door carrying her shoes before she’d buttoned her blouse.

Furious and frustrated, he stomped across the motel room and grabbed the phone, which had finally gone to voice mail. Some son of a bitch had left a message. It better be good. Then he heard the voice, remembered the man and, out of curiosity, returned the call.

Franklin was frustrated and pacing, trying to figure out who to call next when his phone rang. Since he was using another throw-away phone and the only person he’d called was Tom Jack, his hopes rose.

“Franklin Sheets.”

“So it really was you.”

Relieved, Franklin sank into a chair behind his desk.

“Yes, it’s me. I need a favor.”

Tom Jack grinned. Maybe this was going to be worth the loss of the blow job after all.

“What kind of favor?”

“I have a problem I need cleaned up.”

“Why call me?”

Franklin’s voice shifted angrily. “Don’t play games, Bailey. We both know what you do, and you’re a free man right now because of what
I
do. Are you willing or not?”

Tom Jack frowned. He didn’t like threats, and that had sounded a lot like one.

“I’m free because the fucking law made a fucking mistake and you caught them at it. I paid good money for your representation.”

“And I’m willing to pay good money for yours,” Franklin countered.

Tom Jack smiled. “Well now, if we’re going to talk business, I need details.”

Franklin proceeded to give them.

When he hung up later, the deal was done. But he’d learned something from the first hit man he’d hired. No money was changing hands until the job was done.

The next day came with more rain. Maria was sound asleep, dreaming about Montana and trying to pull a cow out of a snowdrift, when her cell phone rang. She had it to her ear before she opened her eyes.

“Hello?” she mumbled.

“Ahhh, dang it. I woke you, didn’t I?”

The low whiskey-rough rumble in his voice was a surprisingly charming way to be wakened.

“It’s okay,” she said, and stretched, groaning softly as her muscles reacted.

The soft groan in Bodie’s ear sent a shock wave of longing straight through him. He sighed.

“You sound sexy as hell when you wake up. Wish I was there to
see
it, too.”

Maria smiled. The day hadn’t even started, and already he was flirting. She loved it.

“Dad used to say ‘if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.’”

He frowned. “So are you saying that will never happen…or that poor people can’t own horses?”

She laughed out loud.

Again the sound ripped through Bodie like a knife. He was on the verge of hanging up and heading for her hotel when Dave came into the office and waved to indicate they had to go.

He nodded an okay, then wound up the call.

“I just called to say be careful today. I’m only a phone call away if you need me, and also…will you go out to dinner with me tonight?”

Maria rolled over on her belly and closed her eyes. “Yes. Call me later with details—and you be careful, too.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bodie said, and hung up with a grin, dropped his cell phone in his pocket and grabbed his service revolver out of his desk drawer as he hurried to catch up with Dave.

Maria ate breakfast on the go, dodging rain showers as she went from store to store, buying bubble wrap and packing tape, then large boxes in which to ship the things back to the Triple S. She could just imagine Bud’s expression when UPS delivered them to the doorstep. She would have to give him a call and a heads-up before their arrival.

As she shopped, Tom Jack drove his black, low-slung classic Camaro in her wake. And when she left her last stop and started toward Becky Clemmons’ house, he slid the Camaro into the stream of traffic only a couple of cars behind her.

When she turned north off of Memorial and then into the neighborhood where Becky’s house was located, he turned with her, taking care to stay at least a full block behind. Then he watched as, windshield wipers working overtime, she pulled up into the double-wide driveway to Becky’s house.

Maria noticed immediately that the other woman’s car wasn’t under the carport, which meant she was still getting her hair done. Maria grabbed her purchases and headed for the front door as the rain pelted down. Thankful for the covered porch, she dropped her things long enough to locate Becky’s key, then let herself in the house and locked the door.

She felt like an interloper being in this house alone, but Becky had been adamant that Maria was family, and that she could come and go as she pleased.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, she settled in to her task.

Outside, satisfied that the rain would provide him cover, Tom Jack pulled up closer, then got out and ran toward her car, everything he needed tucked under his arm.

Within a few seconds, he had disappeared beneath her car.

The rain continued to pour.

Thunder rumbled, followed by the occasional shaft of lightning.

A minute or so later, he rolled out from under the vehicle, leaped the curb, jumped in the Camaro and sped away. Then, just to make sure he’d been unobserved, he drove around the block and parked at the far end, waiting to see if someone came out or the police showed up. When fifteen minutes had passed and nothing had changed except the increasing rainfall, he put the car in gear and drove away.

Sixteen

T
he boxes were packed, the labels printed. All Maria had to do was get them to a UPS shipping office.

“By the time you drive clear across town, I think it will be too late,” Becky said. “Why don’t you just leave them here and come back tomorrow? It will surely have quit raining, and it will be easier to load and unload them then.”

Maria swept her hair behind her ear, then moved her head from side to side, easing the crick in her neck. The packing had been more exhausting than she’d imagined, mostly because she’d gone over each object a second time, as if discovering it all over again.

“You sure? It will mean one more night with a mess in your living room,” she said.

Becky grinned. “So? It’s not like I’ve got a social life anymore. I’m going to bed soon, and I’ll be up and at work before the sun comes up. It can’t possibly be in my way.”

“Okay. You talked me into it,” Maria said, then glanced out the window. “Looks like the rain is about to let up. It’s still sprinkling, but nothing like it was before.”

“You sure you won’t stay for dinner?” Becky asked.

“Bodie’s taking me out to eat.”

Becky grinned. “That detective has certainly caught your attention, hasn’t he?”

Maria shrugged. “Can you blame me? Where I grew up, every other man I know is a cowboy or has something to do with ranching. Bodie may be a homicide detective, but he stands out for me with that hat and boots.”

Becky laughed. “And he’s pretty, besides.”

“I admit he’s far from ugly. But it’s his heart that gets to me.”

“Okay, have a good time with your cowboy cop, and if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. And remember what I said. When you get sick of that hotel room, pack up your stuff and come stay here.”

Tears burned the back of Maria’s throat.

“Thank you. I see why my mother thought so much of you,” she said, and gave the older woman a swift kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Have fun this evening,” Becky said.

Maria smiled and waved as she headed out the door, only to be met with blowing drizzle. She jumped off the steps, hitting the remote control as she ran so that the door would be unlocked when she got there.