Whirlwind (26 page)

“When you said your apartment was empty, I didn’t quite understand what you meant. This is like camping, sort of,” he said without enthusiasm, setting the groceries on the counter.

“I guess, except with clean bathrooms and a real kitchen. At least the electricity is still on.” I reached into the lower cabinet, located one of the two pots I owned, and filled it with water. “So, do you cook?” Somehow I couldn’t quite see Jason standing in front of the stove long enough to fix a meal.

“Just the basics. I spend a lot of time on campus, so I have a cafeteria meal card. All you can eat for one low price,” he crooned. “And no dishes.”

With the water heating, I took the skillet out of the dish drainer and put it on the stove. “I see. Well, hopefully my spaghetti will meet with your approval, though I’m not sure it’ll taste like institutional cuisine.” I stripped the plastic off the hamburger we’d bought and dropped it in the pan.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle—”

Jason was interrupted by the loud strum of a steel guitar coming from his pocket. It was…a country western tune?

“
That’s
your ring tone?” I asked. He definitely wasn’t a country music kind of guy.

“Only if it’s Mitch,” he said with a wink. “Excuse me for a moment.” Jason stepped out of the kitchen, and I heard a muffled “Hey, bro” before he walked upstairs.

I wondered why Mitch would be calling…unless the police had contacted him too. What a way to start a honeymoon.

The meat sizzled in the pan, ready for some spices and herbs. I was enjoying the scent of basil and garlic when I heard my own phone begin to sing.

Journey
announced the call from Mom. I fished the phone out of my purse and flipped it open, cocking it on my shoulder so I could drop the pasta into the boiling water. “Hi, Mom. How’s
Reno
?”

“Hello, dear. It’s fine.” Her greeting was unusually terse. “Melissa, you need to tell me exactly what’s going on down there. I just got off the phone with the police. Did you know they’re watching the house?”

Uh-oh
. “Yes, Mom, I did. I just didn’t have a chance to call you.” I sighed and quickly worked out my story in my head.

The murder was easy enough to explain; Jason wasn’t. I’d never gone into detail about my love life with her, but I’d never lied, either. The line wasn’t so clearly defined in this case, though. Too many of the specifics of my very short time with Jason were integral to the case, and if she was to understand the danger, I’d have to explain his sudden appearance.

I decided I’d withhold only one fact and hope she didn’t dig too deeply.

She listened quietly as I told the story, saving her barrage of questions until I’d finished. Most pertained to the investigation, and I had little to add. Then she moved into more dangerous waters.

“So you spent the night with this Jason?” she asked, her disapproval loud and clear.

“Yes, Mom.” First rule of parental interrogation: only answer the question that was asked.

“Have I met him? You’ve never mentioned him.”

I glanced up at the ceiling. She hadn’t met
any
of the guys I’d dated in college.

Next tactic: connect to a positive memory. “You’ve met his older brother, Mitch. Big cowboy, really funny…remember?”

The line was silent for a beat. “How long have you been dating Jason?”

I gritted my teeth. This was the question I’d been hoping to avoid. If she knew I’d jumped into the sack with a man hours after meeting him, she’d freak out. Honestly, I still couldn’t believe I’d done it.

“I’ve known him for a while.”
Not totally a lie.

“And he’s with you now? How long have you been sleeping together? Did you use—”

“MOM! Stop it. Do you want me to give you the play by play of
every
intimate encounter I’ve had?” I said angrily. “Jason isn’t the person you need to worry about. He hasn’t strangled anyone!”

Mom was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, Melissa, but can you blame me for worrying? In less than an hour I found out you’re being stalked by a killer, sleeping with a stranger, and hiding with him in an empty apartment. You have to admit that sounds…unsettling.”

I took a breath and blew it—and my anger—out. “I know, Mom, but you really don’t have to worry about Jason. He’s a perfect gentleman who changed his plans just to make sure I’m safe. He cares about me too, you know.” The spoon stopped moving in the pan while I considered the awesome weight of what he’d done for me.

“When this is over, can you introduce him to me, please?” she asked, breaking the spell.

I frowned. When this was over, he’d be gone. “We’ll see,” I said quietly.

“I won’t embarrass you.” Mom was nothing if not persistent. “Well, not too much.”

Right
. She was probably already bookmarking my buck-toothed baby pictures on her computer.

“Of course you’ll embarrass me.” But two could play that game. The floor above me creaked, verifying Jason was still upstairs. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked if he’s good in bed.” I smirked, knowing she really
didn’t
want those details.

“Melissa,” she huffed, “your mind is in the gutter.”

Winner!
Or so I thought.

“Is he…good?” she squeaked.

I almost dropped the bottle of spaghetti sauce. “You have no idea, Mom.”

She gasped quietly, and I laughed, ending this game of cat and mouse.

“Listen, if I hear anything else from the police, I’ll call you, and you do the same, okay? Everything will be fine. I love you.”

“Love you too, Melissa. Be careful, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

I gave the meat a quick stir before putting the phone back in my purse. Mom was worried, which was to be expected, but at least she knew what was going on. As I finished up the cooking, I couldn’t help but wish Mom
could
meet Jason. I was sure he’d charm her too.

The soft thumping of footsteps reached my ears as I set out the plates. I looked up to see Jason’s calm, thoughtful face dusted with a hint of five o’clock shadow.

“How are Mitch and Ann?” I asked, trying to hide my curiosity.

One side of his mouth rose in a fleeting half-smile. “They’re fine, but tired. I’d left Mitch a message about what happened this morning, warning him the police would be calling. He wanted to find out what the story was,” Jason said.

“Did he know about…us?” I surprised myself with my guilty tone.

“Not exactly, but I told him anyway. There’s not a reason for our…activities to be a secret…is there?” Jason scowled, and I couldn’t tell if it was at the word
secret
or the word
activities
.

I busied myself taking the garlic bread out of the oven. I’d been less than forthright with both Mom and Linda—why? Was I concerned about my reputation, or was it something else? I refused to be that shallow. “Good or bad, you have to live with your decisions,” Dad had always said, and I had no regrets about my choices regarding Jason. It’s not like my love life would make headlines anyway.

“I can’t think of a reason, can you?” I asked. One thing I hadn’t taken into account was whether our tryst would be a blemish on
his
reputation.

“No, though hiding you in the bedroom does have its advantages.” He ran a finger along my arm, raising goose bumps. “Mitch wanted to ask you if I still snored, but I told him he probably got more sleep than we did.” He smiled at me coyly.

“Jason, you didn’t…”
No secrets indeed.

“Yes, I did. Mitch says thanks for the gift, by the way. The lace didn’t last very long, but Ann really enjoyed the chaps. Apparently cherry is her favorite flavor.”

“TMI!” I cried, sticking my fingers in my ears.

His laugh lingered until I passed him a plate full of food. “This smells great,” he said, taking a deep breath over the steaming spaghetti.

Jason flipped the empty boxes in the family room upside down and slid them together, creating a temporary table. We sat on the floor and ate in a comfortable silence. I chewed slowly, running the day’s conversations through my mind. I realized
comfortable
applied to them as well. Nothing was strained or forced, and the only
un
comfortable moments were when I was reminded of the short duration of his stay. Somehow I had to stop dreading the future and enjoy the present. There’d be plenty of time to worry about the end later.

I looked up and found Jason staring at me across his empty plate. “What?” I said, and then took another bite of spaghetti.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked. “Your expression went from happy, to sad, to determined.”

“You can read my mind; surely you know what I was thinking,” I said between bites.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I’m guessing the sadness has something to do with our current situation, and I hope the happiness had to do with me, but I have no clue about the determination.” He popped the last bite of bread into his mouth.

I swallowed and took a drink. “I decided I wasn’t going to let worrying about” —
losing you
— “Ron ruin our time together,” I said sheepishly. “But you were right otherwise. Pretty cheesy, huh?”

“
I
don’t think so,” he said with a wink. “Are you done?”

I nodded, and he picked up both plates. He went to the sink, and I followed, helping wash the dishes and clean up the leftovers. We could’ve been an old married couple, navigating the small kitchen like we’d lived there for years.
Yup, comfortable
.

By the time we finished cleaning my eyelids sagged, and the yawns were unstoppable. Jason wrapped himself around me, and I slumped against his chest.

“You look exhausted, Melissa. Why don’t we call it a night?” he said.

“What time is it?”

“Nine thirty…but you really didn’t get much sleep last night.” His lips turned up in my favorite devious smile.

“Well…” I yawned again. “I should jump in the shower first.” Jason looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. “Alone. PG-13, remember?” I scolded.

“Damn,” he swore under his breath. “At least we’ll have to figure out how to fit in your sleeping bag.”

I laughed and started up the stairs.

Jason followed me, flicking off the lights behind us until we got to the bedroom.

Fighting another yawn, I picked up the sleeping bag and unrolled it so the top was near the wall. Jason unzipped it enough to turn down one corner, but I shook my head and pulled the zipper all the way around the edge. With a quick flip, the bag became a very,
very
thin queen-size mattress.