Leave Yesterday Behind (19 page)

Chapter 25

He drove past Noble Oaks, taking care not to slow his car. He didn’t want to seem suspicious in the least. He threw a quick glance to his right and realized the drive was filled with vehicles. He smiled. As they say, the plot now thickened.

He’d been coming by to see if he could catch a glimpse of her. She walked a lot in the mornings. The property was large and totally unprotected. He could have taken her numerous times.

Instead, he spied the expensive convertible, top up today, speed past him. He’d made a U-turn and decided to follow them at a discreet distance. They’d gone into New Orleans, to a security company. It didn’t surprise him. She would be upset after finding his presents.

But it was what happened after that which really surprised him. The little slut had been down here no more than a week, and she was all over the ball player. He had stars in his eyes, obviously fooled by what she really was. Still, it made for fun to follow them for a while. He’d gotten bored, though, and gone back to the car and left a note, knowing it would crank things up a notch.

He knew the police had contacted not only the morons at NYPD but also those at the FBI since the action had now crossed state lines. Wouldn’t it be delicious to read what their profilers said about him?

Of course, things would be more dangerous now. The chance of getting caught had multiplied. They were on their guard. Yet he wanted to toy with them a little longer. He needed the excitement that brought. And it would only complete his work to take them out together. Maybe in their little love nest in back of the main house.

But he needed to lull them into a false sense of security. Only then could the fun and games begin. He would kill Jessica first—slowly, with great skill, showing off the talents he had polished to perfection. He wanted her to suffer as his dear mama had. He would force Nick to watch.

And then he would kill him. Swiftly, with as much pain and force as he could muster. The man might’ve ruined his life, but he wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.

Oh, to think sweet freedom came at such a heavy price.

But what fun it would be to finally earn that freedom.

Chapter 26

“The wife and I have always thought about retiring to Florida, but if the food’s always this good and there’s no snow to speak of? I might need to change her mind.”

Those gathered around the table laughed at the detective’s comment.

“Callie was hell-bent on coming back here, Uncle Paul,” Gretchen said. “Now I understand why.” She smiled to herself, and Callie knew it wasn’t simply the appetizing food her nurse spoke of.

“Weren’t you supposed to make dessert tonight?” she asked.

Gretchen beamed. “I did. I only watched Essie making the beans and cornbread. I did help fry up the catfish, though.”

“What is it about this cornbread?” Waggoner asked. “It’s so rich. My wife would kill for a bite of this.”

“It’s the broccoli in it,” Essie announced as she swung through the door with a 9x13-glass Pyrex dish. “That and lots o’ butter.” She smiled at the detective. “You think fettuccini’s a heart attack on a plate? It ain’t got nothin’ on my cornbread.”

The cook set the dessert in front of Gretchen. “I’ll be back with bowls, honey, but I thought you might want to be the one to dish up your mud.” Essie sashayed back out the door, whistling all the way.

Callie noticed Eric sitting up straighter, leaning over to look at the dessert. He broke out in a huge grin.

“Gretchen, you made Mississippi Mud!” He reached a finger out to take a sample but quickly stopped and withdrew his hand, slightly reddening. Callie observed Aunt C frowning at him.

“We tried one batch, but it wasn’t up to Essie’s standards. The second try did the trick, though,” Gretchen said. Her eyes shot to Eric. “I have had a taste, and it is one luscious mess of goodness.”

Essie brought in deep ceramic bowls, and soon everyone had the chocolate dessert before them, Eric once again piling his with a mountain of Cool Whip on top. Callie had only picked at her dinner, despite the fact that Essie prepared some of her favorite things. The note on the car and Wolf being gone dampened not only her spirits but her appetite.

Still, Gretchen was watching her—and it was chocolate, a sacred food group. She spooned a bite into her mouth and sighed upon contact.

“Oh, Gretch, you did it,” she told her friend. “And Pam will be so jealous. Her mud’s never turned out this well.”

“Maybe when this is all over, we can host our own barbecue, Callie. I’ve heard Nick’s quite the grill expert.”

“Speaking of being over, Gretchen,” Waggoner interrupted, looking over at Callandra. She figured she knew what was coming. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea, Mrs. Chennault, for you, Essie, and Gretchen to relocate into town for a while.”

Aunt C’s ramrod posture made her proud. Callandra glared down the table at the policeman, her chin tilted high. “I will not be run from my own home, sir, and I would certainly never abandon my niece. We have the new security system in place. And Nick is now sleeping in the main house. There are men on duty outside. I don’t see why I should leave the comfort of my own home.”

“If you insist. It was merely a suggestion.” The detective looked back at Gretchen. “You might need to give me seconds,” he added, passing his bowl over.

Callie sighed. “I think I’m going to call it a day,” she announced. “But don’t let me break up the dinner party.”

She stood. Immediately, Nick was on his feet, too.

“Goodnight everyone,” he said for both of them, taking her elbow and leading her from the room.

They walked up the stairs at a leisurely pace, Nick matching her slow tread.

“I think you need a long soak in a hot tub, ma’am.”

“Why, Mr. La Chappelle, I do believe you read my mind,” she told him in her best Scarlett O’Hara imitation.

He opened the door to her room. “Wait here.” He entered the room and checked it and the bathroom before he motioned her in.

“I’ve locked the other door leading from the bathroom to the adjoining bedroom. I’ll go start your water.”

He headed into the bathroom, and she heard the sound of running water begin. She slipped off her sandals and nudged them under the bed with her toes as she pulled the elastic coated rubber band from her ponytail.

She checked the mirror above the antique dresser and fluffed her hair. She removed the diamond studs she wore every day and slid her watch off her wrist.

“I’ll wait out here for you,” Nick said, watching her in the mirror.

She turned. “Really, I’ll—”

“I’ll be waiting. Gather up what you need.” He plopped down into the club chair by the bed and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

She decided arguing wouldn’t change anything, so she did as he said and went into the bathroom.

“Lock the door,” he hollered.

“Yes, sir,” she muttered under her breath, turning the lock into place.

The bathroom was steamy and smelled of honeysuckle. He must’ve seen her bath crystals and dumped a handful into the water. She stripped and wound her hair high up on her head and secured it with a few pins. She avoided looking into the mirror and climbed into the claw-foot tub. The temperature was absolutely perfect. She shut off the valves and sank down, grabbing her bath pillow to slip behind her neck.

A loud pounding on the door gave her a start. “What?” she yelled.

“How pruney do you need to be?”

She realized the water had cooled considerably. She must have fallen asleep.

“I’ll be out in a minute. Jeez, Louise.”

She quickly scrubbed and rinsed herself and released the stopper. Nick had thoughtfully placed a towel along the edge. She stood and wrapped it around her, gently patting along where her scars lay. Fortunately, the mirror was steamed up, preventing her from seeing them.

She rubbed moisturizer into her face and dusted her honeysuckle-scented powder on before she slipped into her lace thong and sleeveless nightgown. She’d always slept in old T-shirts before, usually men’s, but they weren’t long enough to cover her flaws. Gretchen found several silk gowns at Nordstrom’s that went just to her knee. They were comfortable and made her feel less self-conscious about her Frankenstein-looking patchwork of scars.

She grabbed her kimono from the hook on the door and slipped it on before emerging from the bathroom. Nick sat in the chair, the scrapbook from the nightstand across his lap, his bare feet propped up on the bed. His chest was bare. He wore blue pajama pants the color of his eyes.

Callie walked into the room, her heart beating wildly. She tried to calm herself before she spoke. “Having fun?”

He closed the book and set it back on the table. “I didn’t know you edited your middle school newspaper.”

“That was in my ‘I want to be a journalist and light world on fire’ days.”

“And the plays. You had the lead in every production in high school from freshman year on.”

She shrugged. “I found my niche. Whatever role I wanted, I could slip it on. Like a second skin.”

He stood. “And you were homecoming queen. Quite a resume, Ms. Chennault.”

She laughed. “That last one was a fluke. The most popular girl in my class turned up with a nasty case of shingles the week before the homecoming game and dance. She always won everything. I think between that backlash of her grabbing every honor since grade school and her not going to be at the game to be crowned caused a voters’ revolt. I lucked out.”

“And you were Most Likely to Succeed?” He took a few steps toward her.

The quick quip died in her throat at the hungry look in his eyes. She took a step back.

“Nick, I can’t.” She defensively crossed her arms in front of her.

“I haven’t asked you to do anything, hon.”

Callie gave him a tremulous smile. “Your mouth might not be saying any words, but your eyes are speaking volumes. Like you’re the Big Bad Wolf, and I’m Little Red Riding Hood.”

“What are they saying?”

“Things I don’t want to talk about. Look, Nick, I come out to this bare-chested, broad-shouldered, gladiator hunk action. We’ve had this whirlwind romance, and part of me is wondering just what I’ve gotten myself into. I don’t think I can physically or emotionally handle taking us to the next level right now.”

She waved an arm in exasperation. “And where are you sleeping tonight? You can’t sleep on top of the covers in here again.”

He frowned at her, a look that would match Aunt C’s most lethal glare any day. “Where else do you think I would be?”

“Nick,” she whispered. “I’m scared. Of you. You’re a lot of man.”

He closed the distance between them and put strong hands on her shoulders. He ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to reassure her.

“Don’t be,” he whispered back, his gaze intense. Those midnight blue eyes turned almost black.

Callie shivered. “But I am. I know you want to protect me, but who’s going to protect me from you?”

“I don’t get it.”

She shook her head. “I’ve always taken care of myself, from the time I was really young. The few relationships I’ve had with men have always been on my terms. I called the shots. I kept my emotional distance. And if they tried to close that distance, I cut them loose. I’m not any good at letting someone else look out for me.”

“Oh, babe.” Nick pulled her into his arms. She could feel his heart racing. “Don’t you know I feel the same way?”

She remained silent, her throat thick with unshed tears.

Nick kissed her hair. “I haven’t been too great in the relationship department either. I told you I was too shy and then too famous. I never really let anyone get close till my marriage. And even then I was just skating along the surface. I never really knew how broken it was until the day it ended.”

Tenderly, he kissed her brow. “This is really a first for me, too. Getting to really know someone. Share things. Thoughts. Feelings. Small talk.”

He tilted her chin up. “We’ll go as slowly as we need to. I know it’s tough with what’s hanging over you, but I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me. Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He brushed a quick kiss across her lips and released her. He looked around the room. “It’s either sleep on the bed, the chair, or the floor in front of the locked door. I’ll do whichever you want, but I’m here. For good.”

“You’d sleep on the floor for me?” Callie grinned mischievously at him.

“Yeah. If I had to.”

“Or all scrunched up in the chair?”

He bit back a smile. “Yeah. If I need to.”

She grew serious. “I don’t know how much I’m ready to give yet, Nick. But my own personal bodyguard in bed might be nice.”

She walked to the near side of the bed and began to turn down the comforter. He went to the other side and matched her moves. She slipped under the sheet while he walked over and switched off the overhead light before he climbed into bed.

“Oh, wait. Do you want me to leave the light on in the bathroom?”

“No. I’ll be fine. You know, having my bodyguard nearby is like having the Teddy Bear I slept with when I was a kid.”

He leaned over and turned off the light on the nightstand. She rolled over onto her side. Nick scooted up behind her and threw an arm around her, drawing her close. Callie finally dropped off to sleep, knowing Nick would be there all through the night.