Obsession (Southern Comfort) (15 page)

However, there was an old saying about assumption.

Kathleen drummed her fingers on the wheel as she drove, the steady swish of the windshield wipers adding an extra beat.  The thing that troubled her about all of this was the…covert nature, for lack of a better term.  Why the secrecy? If Mandy was really hoping to win Justin back, why wasn’t she trying to speak with him outright?  Giving gifts was not only a way to ingratiate oneself, but Kathleen thought that most stalkers of this sort also used it as a launching pad for conversation. 
Hey babe, did you like the flowers I sent?  I know they’re your favorite. 
It struck her as odd that, according to what she’d been able to wheedle out of Justin, Mandy hadn’t done anything resembling an open attempt at reconciliation.  In fact, she’d essentially rebuffed him after he’d confronted her. At least that was Justin’s take.  Of course, she could just be attempting to save face in light of his rejection, but if that were the case, Kathleen would expect some sort of display of hostility, not making him a cup of coffee to greet him after his run.

The timing of which led to the inescapable conclusion that Mandy – or someone – was
somehow monitoring Justin’s activities.  In this day and age, that could mean almost anything, from standard voyeurism to tracking devices to hidden cameras to…

Private detectives.
 

Kathleen
sighed.  She really needed to talk to Anthony.

“What the hell?”
 

The glare of headlights in her rear view m
irror drew Kathleen back into the moment.  She’d been lost in thought as she left the island, turned onto the familiar road which would take her to her childhood home – now home to Declan and Sadie.  She’d promised Sadie she’d stop by tonight, as Declan was working the closing shift at Murphy’s, to help plan a surprise party for his thirtieth birthday next month. Kathleen squinted, adjusting the mirror to cut down the blinding light.  It was difficult to tell for certain, but she thought, based on the position and shape of the headlights, it might be the same SUV as before. If so, it had been behind her the whole way, and was once again objecting to her observation of the speed limit. 

Irked
, Kathleen eased off the gas, dropping her speed again.  The other vehicle had had the opportunity to pass her when she’d been on the multi-lane highway a little ways back.  The fact that the driver hadn’t, and now chose to ride her bumper again, suggested that she might have one of the aforementioned assholes on her hands.

Regretting that she was in her personal car, which, being a compact, lacked something as far as muscle – not to mention sirens and lights – she nonetheless wasn’t about to let some jerk get away with aggressive driving. 

The jerk closed the gap a little further. 

She slowed down even more.

“Okay buddy,” she murmured.  “We can play this game for the next few miles or you can stop being a dick.”  She really didn’t want to get involved in a pissing match and end up having to deal with the paperwork involved.

After maybe a quarter mile, t
he vehicle finally dropped back.  Satisfied, Kathleen pressed lightly on the gas pedal as she approached a bend in the road.  Muddy water erupted like geysers on either side of the car when she hit a particularly large puddle.

And caused her tires to lose traction when the SUV rammed her from behind.

“Shit!”  Heart leaping into her throat, Kathleen momentarily froze.  Then training took over and she loosened her grip on the wheel, turning into the skid.

The car fishtailed wildly, but Kathleen
fortunately managed to keep all four tires on the pavement.

Unfortunately,
the tires were on the wrong side of the road.

“You bastard.” Kathleen’s breath whooshed out in a relieved rush, making room for the anger whic
h swept in to take its place, inflating her in much the same way that helium fills a balloon.  She practically levitated off the seat under its power.

The vehicle – a small SUV, maybe
black, maybe dark gray – sped past, and she jerked around to try to see the license plate. 

It was mostly covered with mud
, but she was pretty sure it was a South Carolina plate.  She recognized the color scheme.  And the first letter looked like a P, or maybe a B, followed by an X.

The SUV’s taillights disappeared around the curve, and Kathleen eased her foot off the brake, shaken when she realized her leg was trembling.  Both her legs.  As were her hands.
  Not an uncommon side effect of an adrenaline rush, but one, given her profession, that she’d mostly learned to deal with.  In this instance, however, the physiological reaction seemed beyond her control.

“Get a grip,” she told herself
.  But her mind’s eye flashed back to the only other time she’d been involved in a car accident – if one could call this an accident.  Just over a year ago.  When Anthony had sustained his injuries.  She recalled vividly the impact of the crash, the sound of rending metal, the punch of the airbag as it smacked her with the force of a mule-kick. Cradling Anthony’s bloodied head on her lap. Willing him not to die.

Breathing deeply, Kathleen
pushed the images aside, forced her jellied limbs to move.  She had to get her car back on the side it belonged. 

Turning the wheel, she
shifted her foot to the gas pedal.

Just as she saw the headlights barreling toward her around the curve.

“I’M
fine,” Kathleen repeated as Sadie placed a steaming mug of tea in front of her.  The aroma of chamomile hit her nostrils, more soothing than she cared to admit. 

Sadie snorted.  “Yeah, you look it.”

Her best friend plopped down in the chair across from her, in the kitchen of Kathleen’s childhood.  Not that it looked all that much like it had when Kathleen had been growing up.  The oak cabinets were now a washed-looking white, the counters gray-veined marble and Sadie – an art teacher and artist – had painted brightly colored images of vintage kitchen items which decorated the beaded board walls.  Declan had built the sturdy pine table at which they sat.  The simple, homey domesticity of it made Kathleen wonder at the fact that this was the same brother who’d once had
GO AWAY
printed on his welcome mat.

Sadie’s hand reached out to cover the one Kathleen hadn’t wrapp
ed around the handle of the mug, making Kathleen realize she’d been just sitting there for several moments, staring into space.

Kathleen rolled her eyes at herself, before giving Sadie’s hand a brief squeeze.  “Really.  I’m fine.  Just shaken up a little.”

“I’d be shaken up too if someone tried to run me off the road, and then I had to drive into a ditch to avoid a head-on collision.  But then, that’s me, and I’m basically a wimp.  Not that I don’t think you have the right to be upset, of course.  But your usual reaction to this sort of thing is more of the kick ass and take names variety.”

“
Oh believe me, I’m pissed.  I filed a report with the locals, and you can bet I’ll be kicking some ass if I find the idiot who’s responsible.  And you’re not a wimp.”  Sadie had managed to outwit the two men who’d kidnapped and terrorized her and Declan last year – she and Anthony had been working that case, in fact, when one of the kidnappers slammed into the police car Anthony was driving.  He’d managed to jerk the wheel at the last moment so that the driver’s side took the brunt of the impact, an action which protected Kathleen from major injury. 

And ende
d up costing Anthony his career with the very department she’d just filed the report with.

“Okay, spill it,” Sadie
said, taking a bite out of one of the carrot-bran-flax – AKA sawdust – muffins she’d placed on a plate between herself and Kathleen.

Sighing, Kathleen leaned back in her chair.  She wasn’t used to being this…
wishy-washy.  Whenever she had a problem, she tended to break it down like a puzzle, taking the logical steps to do what it took to fix it. 

“I think the accident just kicked up some feelings I’ve yet to fully deal with.  About Anthony.  I have this… sense of lingering indebtedness.”

“Are you saying you’re involved in a long term relationship with a man… out of guilt?”

“No.”  Kathleen huffed out a breath
, shook her head.  “It’s not that.  Or not just that, anyway.  There’s enough attraction to keep it interesting and not enough emotion to make it uncomfortable.  We’re both clear on the fact that we aren’t looking for strings, so it works.  It’s functional.”

“Functional
,” Sadie said, making it sound about as appealing as the muffin she was biting into.  “Okay.  So what’s the problem?”

“I almost had sex with Justin tonight.”

Bits of carrot/bran/sawdust sprayed across the table.  Sadie swiped a napkin across her mouth and stared at Kathleen with bug eyes.  “You… how…”

Then her brows snapped together and she bent sideways to look beneath the table.  When she resurfaced, she stabbed the air with her finger.  “Ha!  I
knew
those stockings were going to serve their purpose.  Now.” She got up from the table, went to the cabinet which held cleaning supplies and rummaged around before bringing a plastic container back to the table.  She pried off the lid, revealing something that looked suspiciously like chocolate chunk brownies with fudge frosting.  After placing one on a napkin and sliding it toward Kathleen, she took two out for herself.  “Okay. Spill it. And don’t be chintzy with the details.”

Fascinated, Kathleen watched Sadie shove an enormous hunk of
chocolate into her mouth. 

“That’s a brownie.  A frosted brownie.”

“Good call, Detective.”

Kathleen watched another bite disappear.  “
Okay.  Why are you hiding frosted brownies behind the dish soap?”

Sadie fixed her with a look.  “
Why do you think? In case the Mistress of Gestational Nutrition – otherwise known as your sister – pays a visit.  I try, okay?  I really do.  And most of the time I do great.  But this is, you will recall, your brother’s offspring I am carrying.  And I’m here to tell you, this kid demands fat and sugar.  He insists upon empty calories.  It’s like sharing a body with a peanut-sized pastry addict.  Anyway, dishing about sex – or almost sex – calls for either alcohol or chocolate.  Alcohol’s out, obviously, so… like I said.”  She took another bite.  “Spill.”

“He?” Kathleen said, frowning over her friend’s choice of pronoun.

“Kathleen.”

“Alright, alright.”  Kathleen took a bite of her own brownie.  Delicious.  And speaking of delicious…

“I think it’s been brewing since the Christmas party.  Or longer,” Kathleen admitted when she saw Sadie’s raised brow.  “Tonight it sort of… boiled over.  He, uh, pushed me up against the wall of his garage.  If it hadn’t started raining, I’m pretty sure we would have done the deed right there.”

“Wall sex.”  Sadie licked frosting from her lips and sh
ivered, though Kathleen wasn’t sure if it was from an overload of chocolate or an overload of hormones.  “Better yet, outside wall sex.  I always suspected Justin had it in him.  What stopped you from finishing it inside?”

“Justin did.”  Kathleen ran her finger around the rim of her tea mug.

“Ahhh,” Sadie said knowingly.  “Of course.”

“What do you mean ‘of course.’”

“Well, he’s waited this long to make his move.  You guys have a solid foundation of friendship.  You’re still involved with Anthony.  He probably wants to proceed with caution so that your relationship doesn’t get screwed up.”

Kathleen frowned.  “That’s pretty much what he said.”

“Well, no offense, Kath, but you don’t exactly have a history of successful long term relationships.”

“Hey, I’ve been dating Anthony for
over a year.”

“Because you know it’s not in danger of going anywhere.”

Kathleen opened her mouth to protest, but realized Sadie was right.  And sighed, because she wasn’t sure she wanted a relationship that was
going somewhere
.  But was afraid that maybe she did.

T
hen something Sadie said sank in.  “You sneak,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at her sister-in-law.  “You took the Twinkies from my desk because
you
wanted to eat them.”

“Your nephew wanted to eat them.  I’m just an accessory to the crime.”

“Nephew.”

“Or niece.” Sadie waved a hand.  “We don’t know yet.”

“Crap.” Kathleen sank a little lower in her chair.

“Eat your brownie,” Sadie suggested after studying Kathleen’s face.

Kathleen looked at the brownie.  Fat.  Sugar.  Empty calories. 

Endorphins. 

She pulled it toward her, because she
obviously wasn’t going to be getting them from any other source tonight.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JUSTIN
stalked into his bedroom, hooking a towel around his hips.  The forty-five minutes he’d just spent with his weight bench hadn’t fully knocked the edge off his tension, and the shower – despite the fact that he’d kept it only a notch or two above frigid – had only succeeded in reminding him of how it felt, standing in the icy rain, with Kathleen’s legs around his hips.  He’d considered taking matters in his own hand, so to speak, until the image of her expression as she’d faced him across the table, advising him to file a police report, lay the groundwork for a
restraining order
for God’s sake, had shriveled his giant sequoia from earlier in the evening into a sapling.  And maybe not a hardwood sapling.  More like balsa.  Or perhaps an ornamental flowering cherry.