Come Back To Me (26 page)

“Look kid, it’s nothing personal. I just want you to know that. And I want you to know something else. If I don’t do this now, tomorrow or the next day or the day after that someone will show up at your door and it’ll be a whole lot worse.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The kid looked confused.

“Welsh doesn’t want you around anymore. You show your face again and he’ll mess you up. You rat him out and you’re a dead man. Listen to me. This is important. When the cops ask you what happened, say you don’t remember. You got it? Do you understand what I’m saying to you? You don’t remember anything. Now drink this.” Jerry handed him a bottle of vodka. It was about a third full. “And John, I’m sorry.”

∗    ∗    ∗

Micah spent more and more time away from home. He flew off to either New York or Los Angeles nearly every weekend. Cara didn’t know what to do with herself. Micah wouldn’t allow her to work. He didn’t even like her to appear at one of his restaurants without him. Aside from running errands or visiting a salon, she was a virtual prisoner in his—their—home. Micah didn’t hesitate to show her off when his business associates were in town. In fact, he expected Cara to be in attendance, looking her best, at her most charming.

Gathering her courage, she mentioned to her husband that she was bored, that she wanted more to do, but he dismissed her complaints and told her to shop. In a testy voice he said, “You reason for
being
are very simple, look beautiful and keep me happy.”

In late February Micah left for a four-day business trip to New York. Cara decided to take advantage of his absence to visit John. She stopped by the restaurant first. She hadn’t seen him there for weeks and she was concerned. He might be a stoner, but he never missed a shift. She found Jerry at the bar.

“Hey, have you seen John around?”

Jerry’s answer surprised her. He shrugged and said, “I need to unpack a delivery in the back.”

He left her standing alone at the bar.

Now Cara was really worried. She decided to drive over to John’s rental house and find out for herself what was going on.

There was no car in the driveway, but Cara walked up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. She turned the knob, but the door was locked. She walked around the back and peered through the kitchen window. The kitchen was spotless. There weren’t any dishes stacked in the sink. The table sat empty. The countertops were clear of cereal boxes and cans of soup. Even the salt and pepper shakers were missing.

She peeked through John’s bedroom windows. The closet door sat ajar, the closet was empty. His bed had been stripped of sheets and quilts. Not a stitch of clothing lay on the floor. John was gone.
Why?
Cara figured John might quit his job as a waiter, but he loved to ski. He wouldn’t leave his friends, not in the middle of ski season. What if he’d been in an accident? Nobody had said a word to her, not even Micah.

Cara drove to the ski resort to see if she could locate some of his friends in the ski school. She managed to find one of his friends, Spencer, working behind the counter of the rental shop. She waited for him to finish with a rush of rental returns. At last everybody cleared out and they were alone.

“Hey, Spencer, where’s John? I haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks. I went by the house and it looks like he’s moved out.”

Spencer looked like he wanted to shake her. “Oh, like you don’t know what happened. Give me a break.”

“Don’t know what?” Cara asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean John got the crap beat out of him in Ogden. Three weeks ago. Got his jaw broke. His parents came out here and took him back to California.”

“Jesus.” Cara felt sick. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry. Do the police know what happened? Do they know who did this?”

“No, they don’t know anything and John can’t remember. At least he says he can’t remember.”

“What on earth was he doing in Ogden?”

Spencer stared at her. “Maybe you should ask your husband.”

“Why on earth would I ask my husband?”

Spencer shrugged. “Just saying . . .”

“No, I want an answer. Why would I ask my husband?”

“Are you stupid or are you blind, deaf and dumb? What do you think your husband does, Cara?”

“He owns several restaurants . . . and he has a few clubs . . . and . . .”

“Get real, Cara. I swear you must be an idiot. He sells drugs. He’s a fucking drug dealer.”

Cara laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Yeah right and I’m the president of the United States.”

“You think it’s funny? Go ahead. Laugh. John’s sucking down food with a straw and you’re laughing. Don’t you get it? John wanted in. He wanted to be a high roller too. Why do you think he invited you to come out here? Do you think he cared about you? He talked about it all the time, how if he could hook you up with his boss, he’d have it made. You were bait. And Welsh took you, didn’t he? He took the bait. But Micah Welsh doesn’t share. It’s a family business. He’s not gonna let some punk like John work for him. So John pushed too hard and it landed him in the hospital.”

Cara couldn’t think of a response. Her mind was reeling. She ran out of the rental shop, slipping and sliding her way to her vehicle, the new four-wheel drive Jeep Micah had bought her as a wedding gift. The Jeep where Cara had hidden a cardboard shoebox filled with mementos of another man.

My god, it all makes sense now, all of it. Everything I’ve ignored for months. The secrecy, the meetings, the backroom deals, the trips to New York and Los Angeles
. Cara pressed her forehead against the steering wheel.
What will I do? What the hell am I going to do?
She pulled out of the parking lot. Driving on autopilot, she turned the car towards the interstate, completely oblivious of the heavy snow coming down.

As the reality of her situation set in, Cara sped up. All she could think about was getting away from Micah. Suddenly her Jeep skidded sideways on the icy road. She’d forgotten to engage the four-wheel drive. When she tried to correct, the vehicle spun completely around and flew off the road.

Cara banged her head on the window, knocking herself senseless. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw someone tugging on the driver’s door. She heard the woman speak, but her words were garbled. It sounded like she said, “
An ambulance is on the way
.” Cara wanted to laugh.
Yeah, sure. Call an ambulance. Take me to the hospital because I’ve overdosed on stupidity. Again.

∗    ∗    ∗

“Really Jerry, I’m okay. It’s just a bump on the head. I promise you I’m all right.”

Jerry helped her up the front steps and across the snow-covered porch. “You were unconscious when that woman found you. It’s more than a bump on the head. You probably have a concussion.”

“No, I’m okay. I’ll be all right. Just get me inside. Micah will be home tomorrow.” Cara was feeling a little nauseated, but she didn’t want to tell Jerry. She needed some time alone to think, to plan.

“Depends on the snow,” Jerry said. “I told him I’d stay with you tonight so I’m staying. How the hell did you lose control like that anyway? There’s a reason Mr. Welsh bought you a Jeep.”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. I guess I forgot to engage the four-wheel drive or something.”

“See? You don’t remember. You have a concussion. I’m staying.” He removed her coat and hung it in the front closet. “C’mon, Red. I’ll take you to your room. You want anything? A glass of water? A cup of tea?”

Cara realized she wasn’t getting rid of him. “A cup of tea and maybe some crackers,” she said.

“All right, you got it. You want some help getting into bed? You want to take a shower or something?”

Cara looked at him. “I don’t think Micah would like it if you helped me into the shower.”

Jerry laughed. “You got that right. But I can turn it on for you and bring you a stool to sit on or something.”

Cara laid a hand on his arm. “Jerry, thanks for your help. You’ve been great. You’ve been very nice to me. I appreciate your concern.”

∗    ∗    ∗

Jerry was touched. He’d adored Cara since the day she stepped into the restaurant. He didn’t want to see her hurt. She was much too good for the likes of Micah Welsh.

“A shower would be nice,” she said.

He walked ahead of her to the bedroom, turned on all the lights and flipped on the shower to let the water heat up. He searched her closet for a bathrobe and grabbed a towel.

“Here,” he said, laying everything on the vanity. “You feel sick or like you’re gonna pass out, you give a yell. And if I don’t hear the water shut off in a reasonable amount of time, I’m coming in no matter what.”

Cara gave him a wan smile. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

Jerry blushed. “It’s no trouble. I’ll go make your tea.”

He headed to the kitchen and filled up the teakettle. He looked through the cabinets until he found a canister of tea bags. After he turned on the stove, he reached for the phone and dialed the boss. He had to wait while some girl went to retrieve him. Micah was at a nightclub in New York with one of their newest clients.

“She’s home.”

“What the hell was she doing driving in a snowstorm?” Welsh sounded pissed.

“It wasn’t snowing when she stopped by the restaurant. It started about twenty minutes later. I guess she was running some errands or something.” Jerry didn’t mention the fact that she’d asked him about John.

“I don’t want her out by herself anymore. She needs to go anywhere, you take her. You got it?”

“But boss, I’ve got the restaurant to run and the . . .”

“Don’t give me any fucking excuses. I pay you big bucks. She goes out, you drive her.”

“Boss, I’m not sure your wife wants to have an escort all the time.”

“She’ll do what I tell her to do just like you will. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Jerry heard a loud female voice close to the phone on the other end. “What time do you get in tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. I may stay over a couple more days.”

“What do I tell your wife?” It sounded as if Micah had put his hand over the receiver but Jerry was sure he heard female laughter.

“Call a florist for me. Get her some flowers. I’ll take care of her when I get back.”

The phone went dead.
He didn’t even ask if she was hurt, the schmuck. So this is how fast a man like Micah Welsh tires of a woman like Cara. If she were my woman, I’d never tire of her. I’d spend my life making her happy.

The teakettle whistled. Jerry turned off the stove and got out a mug. He opened the paper wrapping around the tea bag and dropped it into the mug, poured the steaming water over it. He found a package of crackers in one of the cabinets and stacked some on a plate. Then he headed towards the bedroom. The water was still running in the shower so Jerry set the cup of tea and the plate of crackers down on Cara’s bedside table. He pulled a chair out from beneath her desk and waited to hear the water shut off. He’d seen plenty of concussions and he’d suffered his fair share when he’d played football. He wanted to be able to hear if she needed anything, or hear the thump if she passed out.

Jerry knew why she’d run her car off the road. She’d found out about John and put two and two together. So she finally woke up. Cara was trying to escape. He’d arranged to have the car towed to a repair shop as soon as possible so Micah wouldn’t know that she’d crashed just before reaching the eastbound ramp to the interstate. Somehow, before Welsh got back, he’d have to teach her how to survive. It was the least he could do before he disappeared. He’d been planning to get the hell out anyway. The thing with John had left a bad taste in his mouth. Besides, Welsh was using, a lot, sometimes in front of the employees. That was always the kiss of death. It wouldn’t take long before his entire operation would be busted or someone new, someone younger, with a cooler head, would take over. The nephew, yeah, his money was on the nephew before the end of the year.

∗    ∗    ∗

Cara’s head throbbed. She rose from the bed and wandered into the bathroom, intending to look for some aspirin. Suddenly the light switched on behind her and Jerry was there.

“What’s wrong? What can I get you?”

She blinked at the brightness. “An aspirin, I just want an aspirin. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

∗    ∗    ∗

Jerry stepped around her and opened the medicine cabinet. The aspirin was right in front. For a drug dealer, Welsh sure didn’t have much in his own medicine cabinet. He popped open the lid and poured out two tablets. He handed them to Cara and filled a glass with water. “Here.”

“Thank you.”

Jerry watched her take the aspirin, the delicate muscles in her neck working as she swallowed. Suddenly she began to gag. Quick as a flash, Jerry flipped the toilet lid up and Cara dropped to her knees. He knelt beside her and held her, supporting her while she vomited violently and repeatedly. He wondered if he should take her back to the hospital in Salt Lake. Maybe she’d hit her head harder than they’d thought. At last she stopped gagging and leaned against him, spent. He could feel cold sweat on the exposed skin of her arms. She looked as pale as a ghost in the bathroom light.

Jerry swung her up into his arms, intending to wrap her in a blanket and drive her back to the hospital when she said, “No. Put me down. I want to brush my teeth.”

“You’re going back to the hospital.”

“No, put me down. I need to brush my teeth.”

Jerry kept an arm around her waist while she brushed her teeth, twice. When she finished she said, “Put me back to bed. Please.”

“Cara, I think . . .”

She didn’t let him finish. “I’m all right. I know my name. I know who the president is. I know what day it is. Just put me back to bed.”

Jerry carried her to her bed. He laid her down, fluffed up the two pillows behind her and then covered her with the sheet and a heavy quilt. He started to return to the living room when she reached for his arm.

“No,” she said. “Stay. Stay with me.”

Jerry hesitated for only a moment before he climbed onto the bed beside her. He couldn’t help himself, he took her into his arms. She sobbed, every muscle in her body shaking. Jerry held her as tight as he could without hurting her. She clung to him.