Tameka's Smile (5 page)

28

ZENA WYNN

It was a little after three when she finally made it home.

With keys in hand, arms loaded down with packages, her mind was focused on leftover Chinese when she almost tripped over something on the porch. Shifting the packages to one side, she saw a box at the top of the stairs, the kind flowers came in.

Tameka stepped carefully over the box, opened the door, and set down her things. Then she went back outside to retrieve the package. It was flowers, according to the Flora’s Flowers logo on the box. Chad sent her flowers? How sweet.

She took the box into the kitchen and hunted for a vase.

Once she found it, she set it on the counter and turned to the box.

The white box was tied with a lovely yellow bow. She worked the bow off and set it to the side. She’d put it around the vase once she had the flowers arranged inside. She lifted the top off and took an involuntary step back in shock.

Instead of the beautiful, long-stemmed roses she was expecting, the box was filled with ugly, dead-looking roses of an indeterminate color. “Is this supposed to be a joke?” If so, she wasn’t amused. She took a knife out of the drawer and used it to poke the flowers, looking for a note. There was none.

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Chad’s number, but hung up before he answered. He couldn’t do anything about this. There was no note, no indication of whom it was from or even whom it was for. For all she knew, it could have been delivered to the wrong house.

She laid the phone on the counter and jumped when it rang.

Caller’s ID read Chad cell. “Hello?”

“Why did you hang up? Your voice sounds shaky. What’s wrong?”

“Somebody left me a present. I thought it was you until I opened the box.”

“What was in it?”

“Just somebody’s sick idea of a joke. A bunch of dead flowers.”

“Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.”

“It’s no big deal. Chad?” He’d already hung up.

* * * *

TAMEKA’S SMILE

Chad checked the traffic, then made a u-turn in the middle of the road. He was on the other side of the county. If he pushed, he could be at Tameka’s house in fifteen minutes. He hit his lights and gunned the engine.

“Dispatch, this is Deputy Wilson. I need to take care of some personal business. I’ll be out of radio contact for the next half-hour.”

“Roger. Take your time. It’s slow. We have enough deputies to cover.”

“Thanks, Hannah. Out.”

That done, his focus switched back to Tameka. She assumed the flowers were some sort of prank, but he knew better. Maybe in the big city it would be, but here in Bradford County where everyone knew everyone else, it wasn’t. He pulled up in front of her home with the lights flashing and gravel flying.

Tameka stood in the doorway waiting. “It’s not that serious.” She gestured towards the lights that were still flashing.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He reached in, flipped off the lights and threw his hat on the seat. As he walked towards her, he hooked his shades on his front pocket. “Show me the box.”

“It’s in the kitchen. Chad, I don’t know why you rushed over here. I watch enough cop shows to know there’s nothing you can do. There’s no name, no card, and nothing to indicate that those were for me except that they were left on my front porch. I don’t even know anyone here other than you and Lulu. It must be a mistake.”

“Like I said, let me be the judge.” In his heart, he knew that she was right, but he had to see for himself. He walked into the kitchen and spotted the box on the counter still opened. Tameka followed and stopped in the doorway.

“You said the box was left on your porch? Where at, exactly?” He studied the box and its contents, not touching anything, just observing.

“I didn’t notice it until I tripped over it coming up the steps.”

He looked her over from head-to-toe. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I didn’t fall. Just stumbled a bit.”

Satisfied, he turned back to the box. “What did you touch?” 30

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“The bow and the box top. I used the knife on the counter to see if there was a note.”

“Are you certain there wasn’t a note attached? Maybe on the box itself?”

“Not that I could see.”

Chad used the knife to move the flowers around. Nothing.

He really wanted to get the bastard that did this to his woman.

Disgusted, he tossed the knife aside. “Where do you keep your trash bags?”

“In the pantry. Why?’

“I’m taking these with me. I want to see if I can get any prints off of the box.” He located the bags and put the evidence inside, tied the bag shut and set it to the side. Then he did what he’d wanted to do since he got her call.

He reached out, slid his hand behind her neck, and pulled her into his arms. “Are you all right?”

She sighed and leaned into him as he rubbed her back, trying to comfort her as well as himself. “I’m just pissed. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought they were from you.” Chad could have kicked himself. That’s what he should have done, sent her flowers. “I’ll find out who did this.” He cupped her face.

“Don’t bother. It’s not like you can charge them with anything.”

“Even so…”

“Even so, nothing. Run your little tests if it makes you happy. I doubt you find anything. Even if you do, no crime was committed.”

Chad kissed her to shut her up. He knew all of that, but didn’t want to hear it. This was his woman who’d been threatened. He might not be able to prove it, but his instincts were screaming.

Before the kiss could get out of hand, his radio squawked.

“Attention all units. We have a code 11-25x on State Road 30, mile marker 15.”

Chad reached up and pushed the button on his shoulder mike, holding Tameka close when she tried to pull away. “This is Unit 3. I’ll take the call. ETA five minutes.”

“Roger, Chad. I’ll let her know.”

31

TAMEKA’S SMILE

“10-4.”

He lowered his mouth to Tameka’s again. “I’ve got to go.”
Kiss
. “Motorist needs assistance.”
Kiss.

He grabbed the bag with one hand and walked her backwards towards the door, one eye watching where they were going while his mouth tangled with hers. He stopped when he had her backed against the front door, his body plastered to hers.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispered, his forehead against her own.

He could smell her arousal.

“You have to go.” Her arms held him tight in direct contrast to her words.

“I know.” He swooped in for another kiss. This one left them both gasping for air. “Call me if you get any more presents.”

“I will.” She pushed him away. “Go. Someone’s waiting.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, resisting the urge to pull her back into his arms.

Tameka followed him out onto the porch and stood at the top of the steps. He threw the bag on the passenger seat and paused before getting into the car. “I’ll see you tonight when I get off. I’ll bring dinner.”

“No, I’ll cook. What time?”

“About six?”

“Dinner will be waiting.”

With one last look of longing, he got into the car and drove off.

* * * *

Six o’clock. It was almost five now. Did she even have anything in there to cook? The thought spurred her back inside the house and into the kitchen. She took a quick survey, opening the refrigerator and freezer, then going through all of the cabinets, ending with the pantry. It didn’t look good.

32

ZENA WYNN

Oh, she had food, just not a lot and nothing meant for a man’s appetite. For meat, there was a choice of pork chops or steak. Since she’d never mastered the art of cooking a decent steak, pork chops it would be. She wasn’t much of a vegetable eater, but she loved salads. A chef salad and barbeque pork chops would have to suffice for dinner. If it wasn’t enough, there was still plenty of Chinese left.

Chad called a quarter ‘til six. “I’m still at work. My last call took longer than planned. It looks like it will be six-thirty/seven before I can get there. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Just come whenever you’re done.”

As she hung up, the realization struck that she had a lover.

No, not a lover. One night did not a lover make. Besides, love had nothing to do with…whatever this was. She had a man.

“I have a man.” That didn’t sound right, either. Maybe if she said it slow and enunciated each word. “I…have…a…man.” She weighed the words on her tongue to see if they fit. No dice. She just couldn’t make herself believe it. It didn’t feel right.

“I have a…a…friend.” Hmm, that might actually work. It definitely felt better. She could handle having a friend. After all, everyone needed friends. She was new in the area and hadn’t had a chance to get out and meet anyone yet. Now she knew two people she could consider to be her friends—Chad and Lulu. So what if one of her friends was male, good looking, and hot? That didn’t make him any less her friend.

The issue settled satisfactorily in her mind, she went into the bedroom that contained all of her moving boxes, pulled out her trade supplies and took them into the living room. She grabbed the ones she knew she’d need and set them to the side.

Until she got a feel for the clientele, she’d leave the rest at home.

She heard a car pull up, and she flipped on the porch light and opened the door. Chad got out of his truck still wearing his uniform. “You haven’t been home?”

“It would have taken too long.” He jogged up the steps and buzzed her on the lips in passing. “What’s for dinner?”

“Barbecued pork chops and salad. I hope it’s enough.” She headed into the kitchen and pulled the marinating meat out of the fridge.

He followed. “Looks good. Any rice left from last night?” 33

TAMEKA’S SMILE

“Half a container.”

“I’ll just heat some up to go with the rest of what you’re serving. You want any?” He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the take-out container. He hunted in the cabinets until he found a microwavable bowl while she stuck the meat under the broiler.

“None for me. I had some for lunch.”

“More for me. You mind if I finish this off?” He held up the container, showing her the contents.

“Knock yourself out. You bought it. Two days of Chinese back-to-back is my limit.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He poured the rice into the bowl and stuck it in the microwave while she took the salad from the fridge and placed it on the table.

He called out, “I’ll get the plates. You got any paper plates?

No sense dirtying dishes if we don’t have to.”

“In the pantry. I made more tea. You want some?” She grabbed a bottle of water for herself.

“Maybe in a bit. Right now that water looks good. It’s hot out there.”

Tameka pulled another bottle from the fridge and set it on the counter, then checked the meat. It was ready to be turned.

While she was doing so, Chad stirred the rice and stuck it back in the microwave to warm a little longer. “Meat will be done soon. You want me to add the sauce now or put the sauce on the table?”

“I like mine baked on.”

She took the barbeque sauce and poured it on three of the chops, leaving the remaining two bare. The marinade she used was barbeque flavored so she could enjoy the taste without the mess.

The microwave dinged. “Let me borrow that potholder.” Tameka handed it to him and watched as he took the rice out and set it on the table. Meat done, she divided it onto two plates and carried it to the table and sat down. Everything else was already there. She said grace then dove into the salad, more than ready to eat. The Chinese she’d had for lunch had worn off hours ago.

“These are good.” Chad held up his fork, which held a piece 34

ZENA WYNN

of meat on it. Between bites he said, “You know my name is Chad Wilson and that I’m a Bradford County Sheriff’s deputy. I know you’re Ms. Emma’s granddaughter, that you moved here from Delaware—don’t forget you only have thirty days to get a NC driver’s license and tag—and your driving record is clean.

Tell me more about yourself. I want to know everything.” Tameka arched her eyebrow, a little startled by the request.

“Everything?”

Chad looked a little sheepish. “Well, not right away. Start with the basics like, what’s your profession?”

“I’m a hairdresser.” She sat back and waited to see what his reaction would be.

“Really?” His eyebrows rose to his hairline.

“Is there something wrong with being a hairdresser?” Her tone was just a touch defensive.

“Not at all. It’s just that you look so intelligent…so bookish, I expected you to say something more professional, like a lawyer or doctor or something.”

“So hair dressers aren’t intelligent?”

He put his fork down and pierced her with a look. “You know that’s not what I’m saying. You just look like someone who’s spent years in college. Like you have a Master’s or even a Ph.D. hanging on your wall.”

Mollified, she dropped her gaze to the table in shame.