Bad Penny (15 page)

“Oh, believe me, honey, the pleasure was all ours. So…what’s next?”

LaQueen asked.

“The honeymoon, to which you are not invited,” Wilson said. “I could get another camera,” LaQueen offered.

“You might find yourself arrested when you try getting the pictures developed,” John teased.

Laughter followed, and when they got to the parking lot, they all parted company, leaving Cat and Wilson alone beside their vehicle.

The sun was warm against his face—the breeze just strong enough to shift the curls on Cat’s head and set the flounce of fabric around her neck aflutter. He was so moved by the moment that he struggled to find the right words to speak. Finally he just cupped her face with his hands and said what mattered most.

“Wife.”

Cat’s hands were on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat against her palms. At that moment the staggering losses she’d endured during her lifetime had just been rendered null and void.

“Wilson…I love you more than I know how to express…and I love the baby that we made. Thank you for not giving up on me.”

He brushed his mouth across her lips, then gave her hand a soft squeeze.

“Sweetheart, you were always worth the wait. You just didn’t know it. However, that’s all in the past. Today is a new beginning for the both of us…and our baby. We’ll call Mom and Dad so they won’t worry that we’re not coming back tonight, and then get something to eat before we go back to your apartment. I’m not telling them about the ceremony over the phone. Are you okay with that?”

She nodded, suddenly weary. Wilson saw it. “Are you okay?” “Just a little tired.”

“What sounds good to you?” he asked. Cat looked up at him. “You.”

Wilson’s heart stuttered before it settled back into a regular rhythm. “We can always order in.”

“Great,” Cat said.

They made the phone call to Austin on the way home, and less than thirty minutes later, were inside her apartment and naked as the day they’d been born.

Cat was lying with her hand on his heart and her head pillowed on his shoulder. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a poignant reminder of

the day she’d watched it stop. She’d been afraid plenty of times in her life, but that moment was the first time that she’d felt helpless to change what was happening. The fact that he’d been given back to her was something she would never take for granted.

“Love you, Cat,” he whispered.

“Show me.”

So he did.

Jimmy Franks woke up in the alley behind Lowry’s Gas and Guzzle, only to realize another day had come and gone while he’d been unaware. He’d been stoned for days, and he’d been dog bit and rained on. Every stitch of his clothing was wet and reeked with filth. Now, with the rising sun, it was also steaming. Figuring that he was about as low as he’d ever been in his life, he relieved himself behind a Dumpster, then checked his pockets to see if he had any change left for a cup of the coffee he could smell emanating from beneath the back door of the convenience store. When he came up empty, he wandered around to the front of the store.

The parking lot was empty.

He looked inside.

There was a middle-aged woman behind the counter nursing a cigarette and a cup of coffee. He wanted that coffee and some food. And he needed some cash and a way out of town. Time to go shopping.

Wilson woke up to the scent of fresh-brewed coffee. He opened his eyes just as Cat entered the bedroom with two steaming cups. But it wasn’t the coffee that got his attention. The only things she was wearing were her necklace with the cat charm and her pink butterfly tattoo.

“Lord have mercy,” he groaned, as he rolled over to the side of the bed and then sat up. “To think that I’ll be waking up to you and this for the rest of my life. Lord, if I just died and went to heaven, then no resurrections, please.”

Cat smiled like the proverbial feline with the dish of cream, handed him his coffee cup, then sat down beside him. She blew on her coffee, then took a slow sip.

“I’ve made all my calls,” Cat said. “I talked to the apartment manager. I have two months left on my lease, but I was such a good renter for so many years, he’s letting me out without issue. Plus, he saw the footage of me coming through the weeds in all my natural glory.”

Wilson frowned. “Did he make a pass?”

Cat laughed out loud. “I was on the phone with him, not in a bar.” “Oh yeah, right,” Wilson said.

“And…just because I married you, that doesn’t mean I’ve gone all helpless on you. I’m still me, and don’t you forget it.”

He set his cup down, then set hers aside, too. “Hey, I wasn’t through with that,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her neck and pulled her backward onto the bed.

“Yeah…and I wasn’t through with you.”

It was an hour later and Wilson was still in the shower when Cat came out wrapped in a towel, picked up the remote and turned on the TV as she began to dress.

The news anchor was in the middle of a story regarding a robbery and murder that had taken place on the west side of Dallas. She sat on the foot of the bed, watching as they played a short clip from the store’s security camera.

It was grainy black-and-white footage of the robbery. Unfortunately, the robber never looked up, so the camera only caught a downward view of his face. It could have been anyone. But she knew that if he was in the system, the police would likely be making an ID soon. The perp was leaving his fingerprints all over the place.

As she watched, the man suddenly vaulted over the counter and hit the woman in the jaw with his fist. She went down hard and didn’t get up. The perp began rifling through the shelf beneath the counter. When he suddenly pulled out a gun and shot toward the floor, Cat jerked as if the bullets had hit her and not the victim.

Then the robber opened the register, pocketed the money in it and momentarily ducked out of camera range. When he came back up again, he was carrying something in his hand. As she tuned back in to the broadcast, she realized he must have been going through the woman’s pockets for her keys.

“…then stole her car. The clerk, a woman named Debi Moore, had been an employee of the station for eleven years, and during that time, it had been robbed five times. According to her grief-stricken husband, she’d turned in her resignation a month ago. This would have been her last night on the job.”

“Man. Talk about a bum deal,” Cat muttered. “What’s happening?” Wilson asked.

Cat didn’t even know he’d come out of the bathroom, but when she looked up, he was already half-dressed.

“Some creep robbed Lowry’s Gas and Guzzle over on the west side. Killed the clerk in cold blood and stole her car. They’ve got footage from a security camera, but the quality was so poor, you couldn’t see his face. However, if he’s in the system, they’ll ID him soon. He left prints all over the place.”

Wilson frowned. “I’ve been in there before. It wasn’t Debi Moore, was it?”

“Me, too,” Cat said. “And, yes. Poor Debi. She was always so friendly. It was her last night on the job.”

Wilson shook his head as he put on his shirt. “The sorry bastard. I hope they get him off the streets, and soon.”

Cat nodded.

By noon, they were on their way home.

Louis Montoya woke up in his Nuevo Laredo hotel room, rolled over and looked at the time. It was already past noon. He pushed back the covers, then sat up on the side of the bed and reached for his cell phone. He didn’t know why, but he sensed something was terribly wrong at home.

He’d dreamed about Conchita last night, and it was still painfully fresh in his mind. In the dream, he’d been standing on the front steps of his house, but the door key no longer worked. He kept ringing the doorbell and calling out her name, but the person inside just kept saying, “She doesn’t live here anymore.”

In his head, he knew it was just a dream, but he needed to hear her voice, to make sure she was okay and that they were still on the same page.

He punched in the numbers, then counted the rings. When the answering machine clicked on, he left a brief message, stating that he would try her cell, and that he loved her.

But when he dialed her cell next, there was no answer there, either. This constituted three days straight during which he’d been unable to speak to

her. He told himself it didn’t mean anything, but on the heels of the nightmare, it was unsettling.

He headed for the shower, hoping to wash away the memory of the dream along with the road grime he’d been too tired to deal with when he’d checked in last night.

The plan was to talk to the local authorities, visit the site where Presley had been caught and where Tutuola supposedly suffered the burns that had scarred him, and see what turned up. If nothing broke, then he would go to Dallas. He wanted to get the facts about Cat Dupree’s involvement in that fire firsthand—if in fact she’d had any involvement at all. What he did know was that in the business of crime, coincidence was as rare as honesty, and hers was the only name that kept turning up. Just like a bad penny.

Jimmy Franks felt like a million dollars. He’d bought himself a change of clothes at Wal-Mart, a burger, fries and a six-pack of beer to enjoy on the road, and he was heading west in his new ride with a smile on his face. As much as he would have liked a hit of the good stuff, the bigger high was knowing that he was finally on the road to finishing what he’d started all those weeks ago.

He tipped his last can of beer to his mouth, emptied it, then tossed it out the window as he drove.

“Say your prayers, McKay. I’m on the way.”

Cat and Wilson had continued the discussion all the way to Austin about when or how they would tell his parents they were married, and whether they would mention the pregnancy now or wait until it became obvious. But it was Cat who finally summed everything up.

“I do not want to start this marriage with secrets.” Wilson nodded. “I agree, but I wanted it to be your call.” “Then I say we tell them as soon as we get back.”

Wilson glanced down at what John Tiger had called “a hefty rock” and grinned. “Glad you like it,” he said.

Cat splayed her fingers, then tilted her hand toward the light. The facets of the stone in her wedding ring caught fire as the sunlight spilled through it.

“What’s not to like? It’s embarrassingly large, and I love the square cut. It matches your jaw.”

Wilson laughed. “Great. I’m right up there with the jewelry, but that’s all right. It’s always good to know where you stand.”

Cat grinned, then reached for the can of pop he’d bought for her at their last stop and took a sip, although it wasn’t her usual Pepsi. She’d opted for ginger ale in the hopes it would settle her stomach. She was still experiencing infrequent bouts of nausea and hoped the symptoms would dissipate as her pregnancy progressed.

“Feeling any better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, and took one more sip before putting the can back into the cup holder.

Wilson glanced at his watch. “We’re about half an hour from the ranch. It will be good to get home.”

Cat leaned back and stretched her long legs as best she could beneath the dash as she thought about what he’d just said.

“You know, once we move out, your parents will probably be glad to get their house back to themselves.”

“I know. The old home place is about three quarters of a mile north of where the house sits now. It’s pretty run-down, but it could be fixed up. Or, if you don’t like it, we can pull it down and build a new one.”

Cat frowned. “Let’s take a good look at it first. I’m partial to stuff with character.”

“Ah…that would explain why you fell for me.” Cat rolled her eyes and laughed.

She’d never thought life could be this good. Nine

Dorothy McKay was standing watch at the front windows as Carter came in from the kitchen with a handful of still-warm peanut butter cookies she’d made earlier.

“Hey, honey, what are you looking at?” “I’m watching for Wilson and Cat.”

Carter handed her a cookie. “They’ll be along soon. Why? What’s the deal?”

“Something’s up,” she said, then took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

Carter stuffed a cookie in his own mouth as he continued to talk. “Like what?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey,” Dorothy said absently, then took another bite of her own cookie.

Carter grinned. He’d loved this woman for the better part of his life and was still going to be loving her with his last breath. But she had a tendency toward mothering him, and he didn’t need a mother. He preferred his wife. Still, it was a good idea now and then to agree.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “But these sure are good.” Then he stuffed another cookie into his mouth, chewed and swallowed without missing a beat.

Dorothy turned and smiled, then wiped a cookie crumb from the corner of his lips before giving him the last bite of her cookie, too.

Never one to turn down sweets, Carter took it, but fussed at her for brushing away the crumbs. He growled playfully, then snapped at her fingers like a puppy who was in danger of losing its bone.