BumpnGrind (12 page)

But apparently he didn’t.

“The cops just called to ask about the altercation in the
parking lot. Seems they’re looking at all possible suspects and you’re on that
list.”

Garrett felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. “And you
all think I did it?”

Bruno’s gaze was intent, unrelenting. Bliss lifted her chin,
looking more confident since Bruno was there to back her up.

Garrett expelled a frustrated breath. “Really, Bruno? You’ve
known me for years, buddy.”

His friend’s rugged face softened slightly. “It looks bad,
man. I just think it would be best if you left now.”

Garrett stood there for a moment longer, looking back and
forth from Bliss to Bruno. He briefly considered pushing Bliss aside and
barging into that ladies' room to assure Felicia that he was innocent but he’d
probably just scare her more if he did, and he had to admit to a small amount
of anger that she would believe the worst of him that way.

Finally he swore softly and left the bar. Heading to his
car, he glanced toward the spot where all the problems started. The spot where
he’d caught Dave Foust accosting Felicia and had stopped him.

Garrett played the episode back in his mind, looking for
things that might make Felicia think he was capable of that kind of anger or
violence. All he’d done was make Foust stop bothering Felicia.

He’d barely touched the man, and now they thought he’d tried
to kill him.

What kind of woman turns on her lover like that, completely
disregarding their history together?

Garrett tried not to think about that as he climbed into his
car and pulled out of the lot. He had other things to think about at the
moment, like clearing his name.

There’d be time enough to deal with Felicia’s and Bruno’s
defection.

But he doubted time would make it any easier to get over
Felicia turning on him. Garrett doubted there was time enough to soften that
one.

* * * * *

The following evening,Felicia refused to let Bliss and Bruno
come in and sit with her. All she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts. She
had to go over everything one more time and try to get it straight in her mind.

Nothing made sense.

Nothing she’d been thinking felt right.

The Garrett she’d grown to love would never beat an older
man, no matter what the man had done. But, her traitorous mind kept telling
her, Garrett had been so angry at the yoga studio, and he was young and strong.
While Dave Foust wasn’t. It would have been easy for Garrett to overcome him.

Felicia stood up and started pacing her living room. Her
thoughts were too uncomfortable to take sitting still.

When her thoughts kept spinning around, getting ever more
tangled and less clear, she decided she had to take her mind off it for a while
or she’d go crazy. She wandered around her house for a while, trying to settle
into something that could occupy her mind. She even sat down at her computer
and tried to go through her emails.

There was another note from the creep who’d called her a
whore. She’d been deleting them all week, at the rate of at least one a day.
She didn’t even read them anymore.

She’d received the last one the day before Dave apparently
had been beaten. Sighing, Felicia went to the KittyKat Club to see who was
online. Four women were in the chat room.

FelicitousFeline: Hello.

Crazycougar: Hi FF!

Cougarlicious: Hi Felicia. How’s it going?

FelicitousFeline: Not so good actually.

Cubhunter: Hey Felicia. What’s wrong?

FelicitousFeline: I have to ask a hard question.

Silvercat: Go ahead, honey. No question is out of bounds
here.

FelicitousFeline: Have any of you found that your cubs
are more hotheaded than an older man would be?

Silvercat: Is your cub hitting you? You don’t stand for
that, honey. I don’t care how hot he is!

Cubhunter: *Nodding* violence is unacceptable.

Cougarlicious: Not so fast, ladies. Why do you ask,
Felicia?

FelicitousFeline: I can’t explain it all, but some things
have happened and Garrett has been accused of beating somebody.

Cubhunter: Oh honey. Do you think he did it?

FelicitousFeline: I just can’t see him hurting anybody
like that. If they attacked him, or somebody he cared about, yes, but…

Cougarlicious: The answer to your original question is
no. They’re men, no matter what age they are. Some are good, some are bad. But
younger men aren’t any more likely to be violent than older ones.

Silvercat: Honey, if your gut is telling you he didn’t do
it, than I’d go with that. If it’s your heart…then you’d better look more closely
before you decide.

Silvercat: Sometimes our hearts lie to us.

FelicitousFeline: That’s the problem isn’t it? I don’t
know what I’m hearing, my heart, or my instincts.

Cougarlicious: Good luck Felicia. Let us know what
happens, okay?

Felicia promised to get back to them when it was all over
and stood, heading into the kitchen to make some tea. Maybe it would calm her
nerves. As she filled a mug with water from the tap, Felicia realized there was
somebody she could talk to about Garrett.

Penelope and Giorgio. They’d known Garrett a long time and
Garrett had told her Giorgio had come looking for him that night. Maybe Giorgio
could put her mind to rest about Garrett.

Felicia set the mug down and grabbed her purse. It was
getting late. She just hoped Penelope and Giorgio were at the studio, or she’d
have to get creative and try to find their home address.

* * * * *

Garrett had been at the police station most of the day.
After leaving the club the night before, he’d decided to get a good night’s
sleep and tackle the task of clearing his name with a clear head. He sat across
from Detective Hanks again, watching him write laboriously as Garrett told him
where he’d been and what he’d been doing during the time Dave Foust was being
attacked. It was a long, slow process, given the fact that Hanks seemed to have
trouble holding on to the tiny, chewed pencil with his sausage-like fingers.

“Don’t they give you real pencils here?”

Hanks looked up, his small eyes filled with surprise. “I
like this pencil.”

Garrett snorted.

Finally Hanks set the pencil down and stood up. “Let’s get
you printed.”

Garrett followed him into the fingerprint area, hoping the
cops had some good prints to compare against his. He really didn’t relish the
idea of getting Guido involved again, especially to represent him against an
attempted murder charge.

* * * * *

Felicia knocked on the frame of the open front door and
stuck her head inside. The studio smelled like a combination of fresh paint,
bleach and smoke. She wrinkled her nose and stepped inside. From the front
door, except for the smell, the place looked fairly normal. But when she
followed the sound of music and voices to the large studio where most of the
damage had been done, she realized just how badly the vandal had hurt the
studio’s owners.

The wood floor was charred and burned away in a large area
in the center. One long wall was covered with graffiti in blood-red paint.
Scorch marks stained the white walls and black soot coated the wall of mirrors.

The stereo system at the front of the studio had been
smashed to pieces, its large speakers slashed and torn apart. One window at the
back of the room was broken. It looked like the vandal had thrown a chair or
something through it. Glass still glittered on the floor beneath the window.

Giorgio was sweeping up the glass, and dumping it into a
large trash can. Penelope was wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing hard on the
walls, trying to remove some of the graffiti. They’d brought a boom box into
the room and were playing salsa music at a tooth-jarring level. Penelope’s hips
swayed and jerked to the music as she scrubbed.

Felicia smiled. It took a very strong woman to dance as she
dealt with the wanton destruction of her livelihood and property.

Felicia stepped around the charred floor and called out to
them. It took several tries to get their attention over the music. Then Giorgio
walked over and hit the power button, plunging them into startling silence.

Penelope pulled off her gloves, dropping them onto a nearby
wooden chair, and walked over to take Felicia’s hand.

“Felicia. How are you?” She glanced around. “Is Garrett with
you?”

Tears flooded Felicia’s eyes and she sobbed.

Penelope and Giorgio each grabbed an elbow as her knees
sagged.

They walked her to the side of the room and made her sit down
and drop her head between her knees. Penelope rubbed her back and sent Giorgio
to get her a bottle of water.

“Take deep breaths, honey. That’s good, just breathe. The
rest will come in a few minutes. You just need to breathe deeply.”

Felicia did as instructed. When Giorgio returned with an icy
bottle of water she drank it gratefully. Then she quickly filled them in on the
latest news and Garrett’s apparent involvement.

Penelope was shaking her head before Felicia could finish
the story. “Garrett would never do that. No matter what that man did.”

Felicia felt better until she glanced at Giorgio. His face
had gone pale.

“What?” Penelope asked him.

Giorgio shook his head. “I’m sure you’re right, sweetheart.”

Penelope touched his shoulder, “No. Tell me what’s bothering
you.”

He glanced at Felicia as if reluctant to talk in front of
her.

“Please, Giorgio. It’s why I came here. I have to know.”

Giorgio took a deep breath, “It’s just that…when I got to
Foust’s office that night, Garrett was coming out of the building. He looked a
little shell-shocked. I asked him if he’d seen Foust…” Giorgio seemed to be
avoiding Felicia’s eyes.

“Please go on.” She swiped tears from her cheeks, more
certain than ever that what Giorgio was going to tell them was important.

“He said he’d decided against seeing him because…” he
stopped, glancing at Penelope, “in the mood he was in he was afraid he’d kill
the man.”

Felicia gasped. She jerked to her feet and started toward
the door. She was vaguely aware of Penelope and Giorgio calling out to her but
she ignored them and started running.

Chapter Eleven

Felicia headed for St. Vincent’s Hospital. When she arrived,
she asked where Dave Foust was being kept. She told them she was family so
they’d allow her to visit him in ICU. The nurse headed for the door when she
arrived, whispering to Felicia as she left that she could only stay a few
minutes.

Felicia walked over and looked down at Dave. Every ounce of
anger she held against him slid away. The man on the bed was unrecognizable.
His entire head was discolored and swollen. He looked as if his nose and both
cheeks had been crushed and his eyes were swollen nearly closed. One hand was
in a cast, probably broken when he tried to defend himself against his
attacker.

Felicia sobbed and placed a hand on Dave’s chest. The
determined pound of his heart against her palm was comforting. She walked
around the bed, sat down in the visitor’s chair and clasped Dave’s large, warm
hand.

She sat that way for a while, with tears flowing down her
cheeks and wondered when her life had gotten so messed up. She should have
never stepped outside the box. She should have never slept with a younger man.
She should have never gone to that damn club.

Sighing, Felicia stood up and placed a gentle kiss on Dave’s
cheek. She turned away and took a step toward the door.

The hand in hers tightened, holding her there.

Felicia turned in surprise and saw Dave’s eyes, barely
visible between the swollen lids, fixed on her.

She sat back down. “Hello, Dave. Are you doing all right?
Can I get you something to make you more comfortable?”

Dave tried to speak but nothing came out. He motioned to the
water on the table next to the bed. Felicia lifted it and placed the straw
between his swollen lips.

He looked as if he had trouble swallowing but, clearing his
throat, he tried to speak again. “I shouldn’t have done it. He-he never saw it
coming.”

Felicia leaned close to hear the words, certain she’d
misheard. “Done what, Dave?”

He just shook his head, repeating the words. His eyes
fluttered closed. But before he drifted off he said, “Can’t blame him.”

Felicia sat back in the chair, thinking. What was it that
Dave was feeling guilty about? The notes to her? No, he’d said he didn’t blame
“him”. Of course it was probably the trashing of Giorgio and Penelope’s studio.
He definitely shouldn’t have done that, if he did.

In that case it looked bad for Garrett. He’d be the obvious
“him” on that one. Unless it was Giorgio…

Felicia gave that a moment’s thought, playing possible
scenarios through her mind. Giorgio going to Dave’s law office to find Garrett.
Garrett and Giorgio leaving together. Giorgio returning alone…

It could have happened that way. But Felicia had trouble
envisioning Giorgio as the kind of guy who’d beat an older man to a pulp with a
lamp.

She replayed Dave’s exact words in her mind.
I shouldn’t
have done it. He never saw it coming. Can’t blame…

Felicia leapt out of the chair, suddenly knowing who it was.
She turned toward the door and stopped, giving off a little squeal. A man stood
there. He was dressed in a lab coat but Felicia doubted he worked in the
hospital. His face was covered in still-healing bruises. She recognized the
face under the swelling and bruising. She took a step backward.

He stepped toward her.