Mississippi Blues (23 page)

Before the receiver even clicked off Jace snarled, “Clothes and makeup? This isn't a little girls' sleepover. And why the hell did you tell her where we're at? Are you trying to get your daddy to come down on me?”

“Maybe you like being grimy, but I don't,” Lindy said calmly. “And we can trust Candy. Trey and Jody already talked to her about me. They're trying to find out where I am and she didn't tell them anything.”

“I think you've just made a hell of a mistake.” He slapped the wall with his palm. “Ah, damn.”

She tried to touch his arm, but he twisted away. “I know it'll be okay.”

“I can't take any chances.”

“You're not,” she said. Again, she reached for him and this time he allowed her to touch him.

“Wish you would've told her to bring a steak. I'm hungry,” he muttered to himself more than her.

“How can you think about food in a time like this?” she asked, incredulous that he was worried about going back to prison in one minute and talking about food the next.

He gestured to the store. “We're here. I'm thinking it only makes sense to shop.”

“But they're closed.” Darting a glance around, she couldn't see a way in.

“So?” He smirked at her. “I'm a con, remember?”

“I'm not going to let you rob this old man,” she protested. “We're trying to prove you're not a criminal, remember? If you do this it'll just prove the Chief right.”

“Who said anything about robbing?” He patted his jeans pocket. “I have money, courtesy of Summer.”

“But there's no one here to pay.” She wanted to shake him. He was acting like such a dumb jerk.

“I'll leave the money on the register.” Ignoring her protests, he went to the window. Placing his palms on the ledge, he jumped. His body slid halfway through the opening. He wiggled through the tiny opening like a snake going in a hole. “Meet me out front,” he called.

Doing as he asked, although she was still tempted to get in the Jeep and leave him here, Lindy ran around front. There wasn't a soul in sight, probably nobody for miles. Dark had fallen and she wondered how he could find anything without any light.

The front door opened with a screech. He handed her a sack. “Take this.”

“What's in here,” she asked as he came outside, his arms full.

“Lots of stuff. Food, pop, a book or two — ”

“Books?” She made a face at him. “We're not on vacation or in school.”

“I like to read. Sue me.” He frowned at her.

She followed him to the Jeep, bemused. This man was full of surprises. Who would've guessed that he liked to read for fun? What else did he like to do? Sit in a rocking chair and watch the sunset? She got in the driver's seat still thinking how little she knew of Jace. Though she knew in her heart he hadn't killed Deke Soloman. If he had he was the best actor she'd ever met.

Jace carried the sacks into Granny's house. He'd picked out lunchmeat, cheese, chips, and soda. There was also a cooked chicken, eggs, bread, and a few cans of soup. Oranges, bananas, milk, and cereal rounded out the supplies in two bags. She indicated the third. “What's in there?”

“See for yourself,” he answered, busy stowing the food in the old-fashioned fridge.

She found hand soap, shampoo and conditioner, disposable razors, two paperbacks and a few scented candles. “Looks like you're planning on a nice long soak,” she teased.

“You're the one who said they didn't like to be grimy.” He faced her, his expression unreadable.

“You got this for me?” Pleased more than she ought to be by the simple gesture she impulsively threw her arms around him. “Thank you.”

He submitted to her embrace, but didn't hug her back. Lifting her chin, she froze as their gazes collided. As if in slow motion, he cupped the back of her neck with one hand. Too shocked to react, she didn't respond as his lips moved over hers in a gentle path.

“We could share that soap.” The words whispered against her lips.

“I'll save you some,” she replied in a normal tone, although her pulse rocketed through her veins with mach force.

Abruptly he released both her mouth and head. “You do that. I'm going to fix my last supper.”

Fleeing, Lindy grabbed the toiletries and went in the bathroom. She locked the door safely behind her. With trembling hands, she lit the candles and turned on the faucet. When the room began to steam and the scent of jasmine filled the air, she stripped out of the too-big clothes she'd put on the night before.

As she sank into the heavenly warm water, she moaned. Her injuries hurt like crazy, but the scratches were beginning to scab over.

Slowly, as her sore body relaxed, she wondered what had made her turn down Jace. Although Candy knew the truth — that Lindy hadn't made love yet — most everyone else assumed she got around. Although she'd sooner die than admit the reason to anyone, Lindy saved her virginity, hoping to find that one special person who would understand her like no one ever had. She desired what her parents had — a love so unique no one else would ever do. She ached for the same, but so far no one had fit the bill.

Jace did, her little voice mocked her. He got her like no one else. But he was all wrong. Older, an ex-convict, a family enemy. Was he worth throwing away all family ties?

Hadn't she already done that by being alone with him for the last few days? No matter what she said, the Chief and Mother would believe there had been an intimate relationship. By spending the night, not to mention two, in Jace's company, she had defied everything she had been raised to believe. A proper young woman of her station didn't run away to spend time with a criminal without her name being tarnished forever.

Although much cheaper than her usual brand, the shampoo Jace bought smelled like green apples. The scent reminded her of Granny's special fruit salad. Unwelcome grief caught her — for all the things that she didn't have any more. Granny would've understood, but she was gone now. Lindy couldn't talk to her mother, even when Emily had been well they hadn't been able to communicate very easily. Soon, she'd be gone too. Trey was home now, but they had grown apart in the last five years. Confiding in him would be next to impossible.

The water began to cool and although she wanted to add some more, she had promised Jace a turn. Reluctantly, she pulled the plug and stepped out of the tub. Wrapping herself in one of Granny's big fluffy towels, she realized she didn't have anything to change into. Looking at the dirty clothes on the floor with distaste, she debated whether to put them back on or stay in the towel. When she picked up the bloodstained T-shirt the towel won.

She fluffed her hair with her fingers, hoping Granny's silver hairbrush was still here somewhere. With no makeup, she felt naked, but there was nothing to do about it now. Making sure her temporary dress was secure, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

Lindy's stomach growled, and she went through the door. “Smells good.”

“You hungry?” Jace eyed her outfit with a raised eyebrow before turning his attention to the food in front of him.

She blushed a bit at the look in his eye and glanced at the meal he'd prepared. Bowls of steaming chicken, corn, and biscuits sat in the center of the table. “Starving. You bought all this?”

“Yeah, and I found home canned pickles and jam in the pantry. There's no reason they shouldn't be good.” His hot gaze roamed over her skimpy cover. She almost wished she'd put back on the bloodstained clothes thrown all over the bathroom floor.

“Mother said we'd leave that stuff here and eat it when we came.” That would never happen now. Forcing back the lump in her throat, she popped one of Granny's sweet and sour pickles in her mouth. “Yum. Yeah, Mother was right.”

“Is that what you're wearing?” Jace scanned her bare arms, legs and barely covered body with an intensity that frightened her.

Resisting the urge to cover her chest with her arms, she lifted her chin. “My clothes are dirty. Candy's going to bring me some clean ones. Until then, I'm staying like this.” She knew how to act tough; she'd been doing it for the last year. Even when her insides shook with fear and something else she could pretend indifference. She did it now.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and pulled up a chair. Dishing himself he said, “Let's eat.”

Lindy stared at him without speaking until he looked at her.

“What?” He looked so innocent, she would've believed anything he said.

“Did your mother raise you in a barn?” She folded her arms and tapped her foot. “I don't think she did.”

Without answering, he stood, pulled out her chair and indicated it. As delicately as she could, wrapped in a towel, she perched on the edge and he pushed her back in. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, princess.” He sat again and this time waited for her to serve herself before he finished filling his plate.

When he lifted her fork she said, “Don't you say grace?”

“You do it.” He took a deliberate bite and chewed.

She bowed her head and gave a short prayer.

“Does that do you any good?” He took another large bite.

“What? Praying?” She reached for a bowl.

He swallowed. “Yeah. Praying.”

Lindy thought about it for a minute. “I guess it depends on the occasion.”

“It never helped me. Not even once.” He took another piece of chicken. “And I doubt it ever did much for you either.”

She didn't answer, but praying as hard as she could hadn't taken her mother's cancer away no matter how much she wished it. She stirred her potatoes, appetite disappearing. “I guess not.”

Jace filled his plate and emptied it three times without any more conversation.

Lindy ate a little and almost moaned when he got up and retrieved a pre-cooked pie from the counter. “How do you have room?”

“I could eat a bear. Prison food makes you sick, but you eat it anyway.” Cutting the pie in half, he placed a piece on his plate and dug in.

Lindy studied his bent head. How had the boy she'd known stood it inside the walls of Angola? He had been the life of the party, always cracking jokes and playing pranks. Now he was so serious, so angry, she doubted he had a laugh in him.

“I cooked, you clean,” he said. “Assuming the princess knows how to clean, that is.”

“I know how,” she said, miffed at the insinuation she didn't.

“Don't you have a maid to do all your chores?” His tone mocked her.

“Etta's family, not a maid.” Why was he digging at her? So what, they hired a housekeeper. Big deal. A lot of families in Juliet had hired help.

“She doesn't wait on you? Fix your food, wash your laundry, make your bed? Fits my definition of a maid.” He stuffed more pie in his mouth. “You're spoiled.”

“I guess,” Lindy mumbled, her already slim appetite gone. She got up and washed the dishes and stacked them while he sat at the table and watched. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to lie down.”

She went in the living room and flopped on the couch. Why was she bothering with Jace anyway? He was going to go back to prison, and nothing she could do would prevent that. Before she got too bogged down in her morose thoughts, someone knocked.

Before she opened the door, she checked and made sure Candy was on the other side. Lindy opened the door. “Get in here.”

Candy bustled in carrying an enormous suitcase. “I brought you so much stuff. Clothes, a whole stash of makeup, fashion magazines … ”

“Great. C'mon, let's go in the bedroom and I'll put on some of those clothes.” Lindy glanced at Candy's tube top, skintight jeans, and high heels. “Did you bring shorts and T-shirts?”

Candy gave her a hurt look. “You asked me to, didn't you?”

They moved into the bedroom, lugging the stash between them.

Digging through the suitcase like it was a clearance rack at Dillard's, Lindy chose a pair of white satin panties with the tag still attached, low-rise denim shorts, and a lavender spaghetti-strap top. She slipped them on gratefully. Candy had also brought a pair of tennies.

“I brought stuff I never wear,” she confided. She held up a bag of cosmetics. “Makeup, too.”

“Thanks so much,” Lindy sighed, feeling like herself as she sat in front of Granny's cracked mirror and applied her usual dark layers of makeup.

“No thanks needed.” Candy licked her bright red lips and grinned. “But I want the scoop. Why are you on the run? What happened with Hunt and why are cops and your brother coming out to Mom's place asking all these questions?”

“Wait a minute and I'll tell you everything.”

Candy handed her a tube of Scarlette Fire lipstick. “Here. Who are you here with?”

“Me.” Jace stood framed in the doorway. Lindy's heart skipped a beat. He'd showered, droplets of water still clinging to his hair. He didn't have on a shirt either. Lindy's gaze locked on the defined muscles across his stomach. She swallowed. Hard.

Candy elbowed her and giggled. “Oh, I get it.”

“No, that's not it.” Lindy managed to drag her gaze off Jace's magnificent chest and faced Candy. “This isn't a little getaway for two. This is serious.”

“Sex always is.” She shrugged and dug around in the makeup case.

Lindy laid down the brush. “Listen, Candy, this is Jace Hill.”

Candy's heavily made up eyes opened dramatically. “Oh.”

“He needs help figuring out who really killed Deke Soloman a few years ago. Jimmy Ray Hunt tried to rape me but Jace saved me. I owe him a lot.” Lindy paused for a breath.

“Jimmy Ray did what?” Candy's mouth fell open. Then she looked at Jace. “You were in prison for murder, right?”

He glowered at her. “Yeah.”

“It wasn't his fault.” For some reason it was important to Lindy that her best friend and Jace like and understand each other. “Please help us.”