Between a Book and a Hard Place (18 page)

A
s Noah opened the Jaguar's door for Dev, he glanced at his watch. It was almost five. “I need to stop back home to walk Lucky. Why don't you come with me, and afterward we can take a dip in the pool?”

“First, I don't have a swimsuit.” Dev slid into the passenger seat. “Although that wouldn't be a deal breaker.” She smiled naughtily, and Noah felt himself harden. “Second, I need to talk to Dad and Gran about our ancestor's possible Union leanings.” She put her purse on the floor and buckled her safety belt. “Third, I'm meeting Poppy at Boone's for pizza at six.” She gazed at Noah through her lashes as he climbed behind the wheel. “And I have a hunch that if I went to your house, I'd be late.” She paused, then added softly, “Or I wouldn't make it there at all.”

The suggestive note in her voice and the gleam in her eyes sent a lightning bolt to his crotch. He wanted to ignore her arguments and drive them to his place just as fast as the Jag would take them. Unfortunately, she had a determined expression on her face that said no amount of coaxing would change her mind.

He put the car in gear and pulled into the street. It took all his self-control to maintain a pleasant
expression as he said, “Are you free Sunday afternoon? It's supposed to be clear and in the eighties. We can laze in the water and have a picnic.”

“Sounds fun.” Dev put a hand on his leg. “I'll bring the food.”

“Great.” He struggled to keep his tone even. Her fingers on his thigh were not helping calm his arousal. “Does two o'clock work for you?”

Dev fished her phone from her purse and checked her calendar. “That would be perfect.”

They were both silent for the few minutes it took Noah to drive from Miss Ophelia's to the parking lot behind the dime store. As soon as he stopped the Jag, Dev leaped out. Shouting that she'd see him later, she waved, hurried over to her own car, and hopped inside.

As he watched Dev reverse the BMW, he accepted defeat.
Hell!
Forget about an evening of fooling around; he hadn't even gotten a good-bye kiss. Driving away, he snarled. Why was it that whenever he was around Dev, he lost every damn bit of his famous willpower?

Noah groaned. It was probably a good thing Dev had jumped out of the car so fast, because a single touch of her lips would not be enough. He wasn't certain anything short of forever would be enough to stop the ache inside of him.

Taking things slow and trying to prove that he was the sure and steady guy for her wouldn't work. Not when every time he and Dev finally had a chance to be together some crisis got in their way.

If he'd been smart, instead of the lame excuse of needing to walk his dog, he should have kept his mouth shut, driven her to his place, swept her into his arms, and carried her to his bedroom. Noah
chuckled. Too bad Dev would have probably kneed him in the balls if he tried that kind of caveman stunt.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to put his desire for Dev aside and concentrate on the matter at hand. Once he had walked Lucky, he'd drop by his mom's. Nadine was acting crazier than usual, which meant she might be heading for some real trouble.

As much as he'd like to wash his hands of his meddling mother, Noah was honor bound to take care of her. He'd promised his father, and he considered himself a man of his word.

Still, as he pulled the Jaguar into his garage, the memory of Dev's sea green eyes, velvety skin, and lush red lips interfered with his breathing. Emotionally, she consumed him, and for one irrational moment he wanted to turn his car around, drive to Dev's place, and kidnap her for a night of wild sex and a morning of sweet kisses.

Noah took another deep breath. Then, having regained his common sense, he took care of his dog and drove over to his mom's. He parked in the driveway and got out.

The place never changed. His mother had always insisted on keeping both the exterior and interior in museumlike condition, and it was still the cold, imposing pile of bricks it had been when he'd lived there. He'd never felt comfortable in his parents' home, and he had escaped to college as soon as he could, vowing never to spend another night under his mother's lavish roof.

Now that he'd finally found a reliable health aide, Noah limited his visits to a once-a-week wellness check. Every Sunday morning after church, he and
Nadine suffered through an uncomfortable, often silent, brunch, where each of them searched for a neutral topic of conversation. He was relieved when the obligatory two hours were up and he could say good-bye. And Noah suspected his mother was, too.

Nadine's aide, Beckham Janson, answered the doorbell and said, “Mrs. Underwood is on the patio.”

The handsome young man had become more of a majordomo to Nadine than health care worker. At first Noah had been alarmed at the guy's growing influence on Nadine. Noah had been concerned that Janson would take advantage of his position and try to bilk her out of her fortune, but there had been no sign of duplicity.

The aide seemed perfectly happy to live rent-free in a beautiful house with comparatively light duties. For the most part, Janson provided more companionship than actual physical assistance. His presence was as much a safeguard as anything else.

Because Noah handled all the financial aspects of his mother's life, he would know immediately if there was the slightest hint of inappropriate transactions. With that in mind, he'd resolved to count his blessings and be thankful for Janson's help.

Nadine's miraculously improved physical condition, but questionable mental health, made Noah grateful that Janson kept him thoroughly informed regarding Nadine's whereabouts and her activities. At least the ones the young man was around to observe.

“Mrs. Underwood is having cocktails.” Beckham stepped aside. “May I bring you one?”

“No, thanks.” Noah nodded to the aide. “I'll be with my mother for the next couple of hours, so you can take a break.”

“Cool. I'll run to the gym and get in a workout.” He flexed his arms. “You don't get guns like these by slacking off.” He held out his hand. “By the way, thanks for picking up the membership fee. That was really awesome of you to include that perk in my contract.”

“My pleasure.” Noah shook the man's hand, then walked down the hall, across the kitchen, and opened the patio doors.

Stepping outside, Noah saw that Nadine was sitting on a chaise lounge, sipping a martini and idly flipping through a fashion magazine. Her chair faced the immaculately landscaped backyard, giving him a view of her profile.

He studied her for several minutes, watching as every once in a while she put her drink down on the nearby glass table, gazed over her kingdom, and sighed. It was rare to see his mother so pensive. Her usual expression was complacent. What was she thinking?

Finally, clearing his throat so as not to startle her, Noah walked over to his mother and said, “Hi, Mom. Enjoying the nice weather?”

“Noah.” Nadine looked up at him and shaded her eyes. “I wasn't expecting you.” Her voice faltered. “Was I?”

“I thought maybe we could have dinner together.” Noah smiled. “Unless you're busy.”

“Not at all.” Nadine closed her magazine. “Would you like a drink?”

“Maybe later.” Noah lowered himself onto the chaise lounge beside his mother's and said, “I told Janson he could have a couple of hours off. I can
whip up an omelet and a salad and we can eat out here.”

“That would be nice.” Nadine's mood was difficult to read.

“Are you still happy with Janson?” Noah asked, thinking that might be a good lead-in to the subject of the aliens. “Is he helpful?”

“As I've said before, I don't really need anyone.” Nadine's tone was martyred. “I only keep him around since you said it made you feel better to have him here. Now that I seem to have stopped having those silly little spells, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I'm glad you're feeling so much better,” Noah said slowly. “But especially now that Mrs. Fowler has retired and you haven't found another housekeeper, I think it's a good idea to hang on to Janson's services.”

“If I must.” Nadine patted her hair. “Beckham is amusing and very helpful.” She took a sip of her drink. “My friends like him.”

“That's always a big plus with household employees,” Noah commented dryly.

“Of course.” Nadine's voice held a note of uncertainty. She had never been one to appreciate sarcasm.

Noah kicked himself for baiting his mother. When would he learn?

As he berated himself, Noah realized that the introduction of Nadine's cronies' opinions was his opening, so he asked, “What's the new hot topic among all your CDM pals?” He needed to find out who was planting the alien crap in her head so he could stop it.

“Jett Benedict's murder was all anyone could talk about for the last few days.”

“And before that?” Noah used his best bedside manner. “What was it?”

“Well . . .” Nadine finished her martini. “Janice St. Onge is enthralled by Professor Hinkley's work. She's the one who originally told me about what was going on around here with the teenagers.”

“Did Janice get that information from the professor?” Noah asked as casually as he could manage. If his mother felt like he was interrogating her, she'd stop talking faster than a criminal who had just been Mirandized.

“I'm not entirely sure of the chronology.” Nadine tilted her head.

Noah made a noncommittal sound to encourage her to continue.

“However, I believe Janice saw the funny lights several weeks or more before the professor spoke to the city council.” Nadine wrinkled her nose. “She'd mentioned the UFOs to me previously, but the afternoon before the meeting, she came over here and told me the whole story.”

“That was when she said the aliens were abducting the teenagers?” Noah asked, leaning toward his mother. “And replacing them with copies?”

“Janice claimed that half the children were already replicas, or maybe that the teenagers were still themselves with parasites inside of them controlling their actions.” Nadine's tongue traced her lips. “I think the latter is her current theory.”

“If that were true, don't you think their folks would have noticed that their kids were different?” Noah asked with a frown.

“It depends.” Nadine put her empty glass down
on the table and grabbed both of Noah's hands with hers. “The thing is, the aliens are so good at this, no one realizes what's happened until it's too late.”

“None of the teenagers I've seen at the clinic display any unusual behavior.” Noah squeezed his mother's fingers. “And physically they have all been normal.”

“Janice says that the parasite that controls them is so sophisticated it is undetectable.” Nadine let go of Noah's hands and slumped back. “She told me that by the time anyone realizes what's going on, it might be too late.”

“How does Janice know all this?” Noah grimaced. His mother was getting all stirred up, and that never turned out well for him. He should drop the subject, but he needed to figure out what was going on, and for once Nadine wasn't evading his questions.

“Janice didn't exactly say how she found out.” Nadine licked her lips again. “She just told me that we had to stop it, because once they were done with the children, they'd start on us next.”

“So no plan?” Noah asked.

He tried to remember his rotation on the psychiatric ward. Keep the patients talking until they'd shared their concern. Too bad he couldn't recall if he was supposed to encourage their delusions or try to make them see reason.

“Uh . . . I don't believe Janice thought that far ahead.” Nadine trailed off, then seemed to catch herself. “No. I'm sure she didn't.” Nadine glanced at Noah. “We had quite a bit of wine while we talked, and I was doing the Master Cleanse, so I hadn't eaten.” She shrugged unapologetically. “The rest of that afternoon and evening are pretty fuzzy, but
Beckham informed me I spoke about the extraterrestrial problems at the city council meeting.”

Noah rolled his eyes. As a doctor he didn't see the value of drinking a combination of lemon, maple syrup, and cayenne pepper. He felt that his patients would do better eating sensibly and consuming more water. And unless the person was constipated, the herbal laxative tea that was part of that regime wasn't high on his approval list, either.

“Janson was telling you the truth. You made a vehement speech about the alien menace at the meeting.” Noah sighed. “And once he got you home, you tried to phone the media so that they could warn everyone about the threat. Luckily, Janson and I stopped you.”

“I see.” Nadine paled. “While I do think we should do something about the extraterrestrial situation, I'm glad you intervened and I didn't involve the television people. They're so crass.”

“I'm happy to have been of service.” He would have to talk to Janice St. Onge to track down who had gotten her embroiled in the impending alien invasion. Clearly, Nadine had been too intoxicated to get any details. “And speaking of not getting people involved, it would probably be best if you withdrew your request that the country club allow the professor access to their property.”

“But Janice asked me as a favor.” Nadine stuck out her lower lip. “She thought because you were on the board, it would be better coming from me.”

“I understand.” Noah stood. “Still, I recommend that you don't pursue the matter.”

“Fine.” Nadine crossed her arms as if in a huff, but her expression bore a trace of relief.

“Thank you.” Noah pecked his mother on the cheek. “Now, why don't I go start dinner?”

“It's a little early to dine,” Nadine said, frowning up at him. “I usually eat closer to six thirty, a much more civilized hour. I like to have another cocktail or two in order to help stimulate my appetite.”