Nothing But Trouble (24 page)

When she'd woken up that morning, she'd sent
R.J. another text. No answer.

The man was avoiding her. Probably because he
regretted sleeping with her and was hoping she'd take a hint.

Normally, Rebecca would obsess over his lack
of attention, but she had too many other things on her mind.

Her parents had been gone when she'd emerged
from her bedroom at ten after seven. When she finally wanted to be
around someone, had craved one of her mother's home-cooked
breakfasts, they hadn't been there. Her mother had left a note,
saying they'd gone home to check on the cleanup from their termite
situation. Rebecca had no idea how long it took to cleanup from
termites. It had already been several weeks, plus they had taken
the opportunity to remodel part of the house. Chances were they'd
be staying with Rebecca for quite a bit longer.

Her mother had also said in her note she
wanted to change part of her father's car. Manual transmission
instead of automatic. She was leaving it up to Rebecca to tell R.J.
before it was too late.

Fan-freakin'-tastic.

After inhaling a cup of coffee, Rebecca
placed a call to the shop and talked to some kid named Sam. He'd
sounded distracted and said he would pass the message along. She
didn't trust it to get taken care of, so she followed the call up
with a call to R.J.'s cell. Like before he didn't answer, so she
left a message. Which he probably wouldn't return.

Because he was ignoring her.

Just like nine years ago.

You just can't learn your lesson, can
you?

Sleep with R.J. and get ignored. Fall in love
with him and get blown off.

Why had she expected anything else?

It was just so perfect considering everything
else going south in her life.

Because she required control, Rebecca was
going to attempt one last thing to put things back together. The
last conversation she'd had with Dr. Gross about the matter had
been unsuccessful. Maybe, now that things had gotten worse he'd be
willing to answer some questions.

Hell, he owed her some kind of explanation.
His actions and thrown her life upside down. And she owed it to
herself to try, considering everything she'd sacrificed to make it
this far.

She took a quick shower, while eyeing the
seventies' wallpaper she still planned to remove. Honestly, what
person in their right mind would put giant brown, gold, and orange
flowers on their wall?

In less than fifteen minutes, Rebecca was
dressed, without bothering to dry her hair. She wasn't going to
work, so who the hell cared what she looked like? Nor did she
bother with make-up.

Dr. Gross would just have to look past the
frizzy curls and freckles bridging her nose. Because she no longer
cared what he thought. She wanted some kind of explanation. An
apology or any kind of remorse for getting their practice closed
down.

Ten minutes later, she realized her wishes
would remain pipe dreams. No one was answering at the Gross
residence and all the curtains were pulled over the windows. A
newspaper sat forgotten in the driveway and their porch light was
on.

Odd.

She placed one more call to his cell phone,
but no answer. Mrs. Gross didn't have a job, so Rebecca couldn't
seek her out at for questions about her husband's whereabouts, nor
did she know the woman's cell phone number.

Desperate for answers, Rebecca tried one last
option for a resolution. She walked across the sprawling green
front lawn to the neighbor's house. A Cocker Spaniel was tied to a
tree while a little girl drew pictures on the driveway with
sidewalk chalk.

"Hi," Rebecca said to the girl, who looked to
be about nine years old. "Is your mom or dad here?"

"My mom's inside," the kid said.

A tiny glimmer of hope unfurled inside her.
She rang the bell and a second later, a tall woman with short, dark
hair opened the door. A baby boy with a pacifier stuck in his mouth
was perched on the woman's hip.

"Hello," the lady said.

Rebecca slid her sunglasses to the top of her
head so she could look the woman in the eye. "I work with Dr.
Gross, and I was looking for him, but they don't seem to be home.
Would you have any idea where they would be?"

The woman hefted the baby higher on her hip.
"If you work with him, then I'm sure you know he was arrested."

Rebecca attempted to hide the surprise from
her face, because really it wasn't a surprise.

The woman continued. She shook her head, as
though confused. "But his wife said he was wrongfully booked, so
they released him. Which is kind of strange how anyone could
confuse Patrick Gross for a criminal." She hefted the child higher
on her hip. "Anyway, they came home, then last night, at around
ten-thirty or so, I saw them put some suitcases into the trunk of
his car and left. I haven't seen them around today."

Dr. Gross had left town? After being
arrested? Even if he'd paid bail to go free, would he be able to
leave Trouble? Wouldn't that make him a fugitive?

"And they didn't say anything to you about
where they were going or when they'd be back?"

The woman shook her head and pursed her lips.
"No. Their daughter usually comes by and brings in their mail, but
I haven't seen her around either."

Damn! Why couldn't she catch a break?

Rebecca attempted to hide her frustration
with a deep breath. She hoped it worked.

"I'm sorry," the young mother said. "Is there
anything I can help you with?"

Rebecca smiled. "No, unfortunately I have to
speak with Dr. Gross." She glanced back at the Gross home. "Thanks
for your time," she said, then turned around and headed back to her
car.

It seemed as though she'd have to wait longer
to get her answers.

Or not.

Once in her car, she pulled out her cell
phone and Agent Reinhold's business card. Just calling the man made
her feel like she was conversing with the enemy. Which was
ridiculous. The man was just doing his job. Dr. Gross was the real
enemy, yet she still couldn't bring herself to think of him that
way.

The DEA agent answered on the third ring.
"Agent Reinhold."

"Agent Reinhold, this is Rebecca Underwood,"
she stated, using her most confident voice. "I understand you took
Dr. Gross into custody."

He hesitated. "Yes, that's correct. But he
posted bail and was released."

Ah, so that would explain why his neighbor
saw them come back. She debated whether or not to ask her next
question when the agent beat her to it.

"But he was instructed not to go far. We may
have to bring you in for questioning, Dr. Underwood, so don't go
far either."

"When you say, 'Don't go far,' what do you
mean?"

"To put it bluntly, don't leave town. But
we're already aware of Dr. Gross's activities and are monitoring
him closely."

In other words, he was one step ahead of her
elementary detective skills. Which was why they were the
professionals and she wasn't.

"Okay. I just needed to talk to him―"

"I wouldn't advise that Dr. Underwood. I
strongly recommended you sever all contact with him. Anything you
say or do with him could be held against you. As of right now, our
interest in you is purely evidential."

A mixture of relief and unease, which was a
strange enough combination, settled over her. So she couldn't talk
to Dr. Gross at all? How was she ever supposed to understand why
he'd done any of this?

"I understand," she said in a quiet
voice.

"Good," he responded shortly. "I'll be in
touch."

****

Several hours later, Rebecca still hadn't
returned home. Though she'd struggled to find things to fill her
time. An hour-long grocery shopping trip had been thanks to her
rumbling stomach. Never shop for food on an empty stomach. After
that, she'd gone to her parents' house to the see damage the
termites had done.

The destruction hadn't been nearly as bad as
her father had made it out to be. The work was mostly confined to
the living room, to her mother's disappointment, who wanted to redo
the kitchen. Instead they would be replacing the wood paneling and
tearing out the shag carpet. The home was still unlivable so they
would be staying with Rebecca for a while longer.

Her mother, Patsy, had immediately picked up
on her daughter's despair and had shot off a barrage of questions.
Rebecca had shrugged it off as PMS, then felt guilty for lying.
They would eventually find out about the practice closing. One of
the parents of a patient would say something to their mother, and
their mother would undoubtedly know Patsy. Then Rebecca would have
to face the wrath of hell for not telling Patsy sooner.

But today wasn't the time. Later

After visiting her parents, Rebecca had no
choice but to return home only because the milk in her trunk would
spoil. At three-fifteen she walked in the door, even though she
didn't want to be there. It took forever to put all the food away,
which she'd gone way overboard on. How many boxes of brownie mix
did one person really need?

She stored all the food but kept the bottle
of wine out. She fully planned on making good use of that baby
tonight.

Because getting drunk by one's self was so
cool.

Was four p.m. too early to start chugging
Merlot?

Just as she checked her phone to see if R.J.
had returned any of her messages, which he hadn't, the thing rang.
Lacy's name flashed on the caller ID.

Rebecca smiled and answered the phone.
"Hello?"

"If you have plans tonight cancel them," Lacy
said instead of a greeting hello.

No need to tell her friend Rebecca was too
pathetic to have plans. "Why, what have you concocted?"

"We've planned a girls' night at Courtney's.
Because all I do is raise children and I need a break. So you're
coming whether you want to or not."

Rebecca leaned against the kitchen counter
and shook her head. "Your timing could not be more impeccable. What
do I need to bring?"

"Lots of alcohol. Be there at seven."

The one bottle of wine she'd picked up from
the store would not be sufficient for whoever would be there. And
it beat getting drunk by herself. Lacy had just saved her some
private humiliation.

But what was she supposed to do for the next
three hours?

She thought about swinging by the shop just
to see if R.J. was still alive. Since he was obviously ignoring her
and regretted sleeping together, she decided not to. She knew when
to take a hint and decided she didn't need the pain of being
rejected again.

However much his silence hurt her, she needed
to make sure he got the message about her father's car. That was
more important than anything else.

She placed a call to the shop and Sam
answered again.

"Yeah, he got the message. He said he'd take
care of it," Sam replied after she asked him about her earlier
call. Setting aside the fact that he chose not to call her back,
Rebecca held in a sigh and thanked the kid for being honest.

At least her father's car would be done
right.

Whatever.

R.J. wanted to blow her off, that was his
prerogative. She'd survived falling in love with him and being cast
aside before. There was no reason she couldn't get through it
again.

Yeah. She could do it.

No sweat.

For one whole night she could do it. With
enough alcohol in her system, she'd forget about R.J. Devlin.

With a heavy sigh, Rebecca pushed away from
the counter and went to the bedroom to change her clothes and put
make-up on. She may not have cared what Dr. Gross thought, but she
didn't want her friends to think she was some pathetic hobo who
couldn't take the time to blow dry her hair.

So she changed into jeans, a long-sleeved
t-shirt and a pair of flats. Minimal amount of make-up made her
feel like less of a loser even if her hair still kind of looked
like a rat's nest. Thus the hazard of having curly hair.

A second trip to the market was in order
because the one bottle of wine wouldn't be enough. Lacy hadn't said
who all was coming, but she knew there would at least three of
them. Megan, Lacy's sister, would probably be there, as would
Avery, Noah's wife. Elisa, Brody's wife, was a question mark given
how sick she'd been.

She'd managed to kill a half an hour at the
store, then made a trip to the hardware place. It was way past time
she did something with the wallpaper in her bathroom. The flowers
were atrocious and an eye sore she could no longer stand. Since she
would have an endless amount of time on her hands, there was no
reason she couldn't do a little updates. By the time she left with
her wallpaper stripping supplies, it was five-fifteen.

Great. Another hour and forty-five minutes to
kill.

Rebecca wasn't one of those people who
reveled in time off. Keeping busy was of the utmost important, so
having nothing to do was killing her.

R.J.'s shop was on the way home from the
hardware store. Unfortunately. It took all her willpower not to
glance inside to see if she could catch a shot of him. The fact
that she kept her head averted was pretty damn impressive, if she
did say so herself. Now wasn't the time to storm in there and
demand an explanation. It had only been a few days since she'd
slipped out of his bed. And judging by how full the bays were, he
was swamped.

The light turned green and Rebecca headed
toward her house. Since she'd be drinking Lord only knew how much,
it wouldn't be smart to drive home. Bringing an overnight back and
crashing at Court's would be the wise thing to do.

Once at home, she put her wallpaper supplies
away, then tossed some essentials in a small duffle bag. Her
parents hadn't returned yet, and she didn't want them to worry. She
scribbled them a short note, then looked for things to do around
the house to kill the last hour and fifteen minutes.