Cold Hearts (20 page)

Sleep was over for Mack, so he went up the hall to the waiting area to get a cold drink from one of the vending machines, looking for something with caffeine. The last time he and Lissa had eaten was at breakfast, so he got a Pepsi and a packaged sweet roll, and headed back to the room.

The nurse was gone. The night-light was on in the adjoining bathroom, and Lissa seemed at peace as she slept. He walked to the window and opened the shades enough to see out as he ate. When he’d finished, he threw away his trash and pulled a chair up near her bed.

It was nearly four in the morning.

His eyes were burning from lack of sleep. His shoulder was one miserable ache. But none of it would matter if Lissa woke up on the good side of getting well.

* * *

Lissa was dreaming that she was falling, tumbling head over heels down a steep, rocky slope. She grabbed at a bush, but it slipped through her fingers, and then she reached for an embedded rock that came loose in her hands. She knew there was a precipice at the bottom, and when she reached it she would fall over the edge and die. No one knew where she was. No one knew she was falling to her death. They would never find her. She was lost. And when she tumbled over the edge and out into space, she threw back her head and screamed.

Mack came up out of the chair so fast it took a couple of seconds for him to remember where he was. Lissa was kicking beneath the covers and clawing at the air when he grabbed hold of her arms.

“Lissa! Wake up! You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s just a bad dream.”

Lissa opened her eyes with a gasp, expecting to see the ground coming up to meet her. When she saw Mack instead, she began to shake.

“I was falling! I thought I was going to die!”

“Easy, honey, calm down. You’re pulling all the tubes out of your arms,” he said.

A nurse came through the door on the run, turning on lights as she went.

“What happened?” she cried.

“Another bad dream,” Mack said.

An alarm was going off on one machine, and another was registering off the charts.

Lissa was trembling. The dream was still so vivid she was having trouble grasping the fact that it wasn’t real. “I’m sorry. I thought I was falling off a mountain,” she said, and then looked at Mack for reassurance.

“Well, bless your heart,” the nurse said, as she began checking Lissa’s IV and then resetting the systems.

“Did I mess stuff up?” Lissa asked, watching as the nurse began untangling wires and hooking them back up.

Mack shook his head. “No, baby. You didn’t mess up anything that can’t be fixed.”

“That’s right,” the nurse said as she added a new piece of tape to the IV line. “There. I think you’re good to go.”

“I’m thirsty. Can I have some water?” Lissa asked.

“I’ll check the orders,” the nurse said. “Be right back.”

Lissa looked at Mack. “Tell me it’s over. Tell me the stalker is behind bars.”

“What do you remember?” he asked.

“Seeing Louis and then watching him turn into a madman. I ran away.”

“The only thing you need to know is that he’s dead. He killed himself. We’ll worry about filling in the blanks later, okay?”

She sighed. “Between the ten years we were apart and now this, we’re going to have a whole lot of blanks to fill in.”

“And a lifetime to do it,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her.

She eased back onto the pillow and then licked her lips. “You taste sweet...like a honey bun.”

He chuckled. “You’re correct. Want one? We can ask the nurse.”

“I want water most,” she said.

He gently pushed straggling curls away from her forehead. “It feels good to know you’re no longer in danger,” he said. “I won’t worry about you now whenever you’re out of sight.”

“As soon as I feel better, I can go back to work. With him dead, there’s no longer a danger to the children.”

“I know.”

The nurse came back into the room, carrying a pitcher of ice water and a cup.

“Here you go, honey. Ring if you need to get up.”

“If someone was to come in here with a honey bun, I don’t suppose there would be any reason for me to turn down a bite if it was offered?” Lissa asked.

The nurse laughed. “Technically you’re not on a restricted diet.”

Lissa looked at Mack.

“I’ll be right back,” he drawled, and headed back to the vending machines with a lighter step. If she was hungry, that meant she was on the mend. Good news. Very good news.

By the time he returned, she’d fallen back to sleep, so he set the sweet roll aside and crawled into the other bed. Morning was already here. He just needed a little sunshine to go with it.

Sixteen

M
arcus Silver was in the library going over invitation samples. He needed to pick one, and have them printed and ready when it came time to invite the necessary bigwigs to his announcement party. Running for senate was no small feat, and he wanted all the backing he could get. He’d talked to his cook, who’d already volunteered to give over her kitchen to a catering company for the night, and he was debating about which florist to use to decorate the mansion when he heard footsteps outside the doorway. He looked up just as T.J. walked in.

“Hey, Dad, what are you doing?” T.J. asked.

“Picking out the invitation for the party.”

“Cool, can I see?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you can make the final decision. I like any of these four here. You choose and then drop it off at the printers, will you? I need to find out if they’ve released Paul Jackson’s body, and if so, see if his son has set a date and time for the services.”

“Are you planning something kind of like you did for Dick Phillips?” T.J. asked. “You know, where all the classmates who come get up and say something personal about him?”

Marcus sighed. “I was thinking we should. I mean, we did it once, so it seems like we’d be slighting Paul if we didn’t do it for him, too.”

T.J. nodded. “That’s kind of how I see it. Do you need any help making calls?”

“No,” Marcus said. “But thanks for asking.”

“I could actually drop by the hospital and talk to Mack myself, if you like,” T.J. offered.

“The hospital? Why is he at the hospital again?”

T.J. frowned. “You mean to tell me you didn’t hear about what happened at the supermarket yesterday?”

“If you’ll remember, I left town after we ate lunch yesterday,” Marcus said.

“That’s right, you did. Well, long story short, someone’s been stalking Melissa Sherman, and yesterday he tried to abduct her from the supermarket. He wound up killing himself when he couldn’t get away, but she was injured. Mack is at the hospital with her.”

“She and Mack Jackson are a thing?” Marcus asked.

T.J. rolled his eyes. “Evidently.”

“You dated her for a while. You don’t mind talking to him for me?

“Of course not. It was just a couple of casual dates when she first moved back. I haven’t taken her out in months.”

“Well, in that case, yes, that would be helpful, son. See what Mack says about us doing something like that. If he doesn’t like it, then of course we won’t.”

“I’ll go right now,” T.J. said, leaving the room as quickly as he’d entered.

T.J. knew he would most likely see Lissa, which was the main reason he’d been so willing to help out. He knew she wouldn’t like it, but if the boyfriend took offense at his presence and it caused a little trouble between them, he wouldn’t care. In fact, he would like it.

* * *

Lissa sat up in bed long enough to eat a little of the breakfast on her tray and part of the honey bun Mack had bought for her last night, but before long she gave up and quit. Sitting up made her dizzy, and her head was throbbing with every beat of her heart. As she lay there with her eyes closed, willing the bed to stop spinning, she thought of all the years and all the pro football games she’d watched. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d heard an announcer say something offhand about a player being pulled from the game because of a concussion, and never once had she thought about what that actually meant. Now she knew.

She could hear Mack in her bathroom and knew he was changing clothes. Earlier he’d called Cain and asked him to bring clean clothes from the house. Now Cain was on his way back to Summerton, and Mack was within the sound of her voice. There wasn’t anything left for her to worry about but getting well.

“Well, Liss, you do get yourself into the damnedest situations. That bruise looks downright miserable. Is there anything I can get you?”

Lissa refused to open her eyes. “T.J.?”

“Yes, it’s me, hon.”

“Why, yes, there
is
something I need. Would you please go into the bathroom and bring me a wet cloth for my head?”

T.J. blinked, a little startled that she was actually being cordial, and his Southern gentleman manners kicked right in.

“I’d be happy to,” he said.

Three steps to the left and the doorknob was in his hand. He thought he heard something on the other side, but by the time it registered that someone was in there, he’d already opened the door. “Uh...”

Dressed, Mack was an imposing man. Bare chested and somewhat pissed off, he was nearly scary, especially to T.J., whose daddy always settled his debts and troubles.

Mack picked up a shirt and walked out of the bathroom, giving T.J. a clear view of the staples in his arm and shoulder.

T.J. shuddered, and then followed Mack back into the room.

“What do you want here?” Mack asked.

The fact was not lost on T.J. that Mack was standing in front of Lissa’s bed like a guard dog. It was time for him to behave himself.

“Mack, I apologize if my appearance here seems like I’m overstepping my bounds, but I assure you I mean no harm. I’m actually here to speak to you at my father’s request.”

Mack’s eyes narrowed. T.J. was a couple of years younger than he was, but they’d never liked each other as kids, and getting older hadn’t changed things in any way. “If your father needed to speak to me, why didn’t he come himself?”

T.J. could feel this whole visit slipping away, and he also realized that Lissa had delivered him to the guard dog without a qualm. Even hurt, she was still a bitch.

T.J. smiled. “Well, I knew he was busy and I offered—”

Mack’s eyes narrowed even farther. “When he gets un-busy, tell him to give me a call.”

T.J. shrugged. “Look, all he wanted to know was if you’d like him to organize your father’s classmates to speak at the funeral services like they did for Dick Phillips’ funeral.”

A chill ran up Mack’s spine. The fact that the two men had been classmates was most likely what had made their murderer target them.

“I’ll be in charge of Dad’s services, but you can thank your father for the offer.”

T.J. reeled like he’d been punched in the face. It took him a couple of seconds to realize no one had moved and he hadn’t been touched.

“Yes, of course. I’ll pass the message on, and you have my sincerest condolences on the loss of your father. Liss, I hope you get well real soon. Y’all take care now.”

T.J. smiled at Mack and walked out, resisting the urge to run.

Mack followed the man far enough to shut the door behind him, then walked back to the bed.

“Liss? He called you Liss?”

She opened her eyes. “That was a blank we just filled in. He asked me out. Three dates. Didn’t like him. Dumped his ass.”

Mack grinned. “That’s my girl. You always did have good taste.”

Lissa started to laugh, and then grabbed her head with both hands and groaned. “Lord, that hurt.”

“Sorry, baby,” Mack said. “Do you still want that wet cloth?”

She laughed again and then moaned. “You heard that, too?”

“I wasn’t sure who it was you were talking to, but since you were sending him straight to me, I guessed you wanted him gone.”

Lissa shuddered. “He gives me the creeps.”

“He’s just a rich daddy’s boy. You take it easy, honey. I need to finish dressing before your doctor comes by,” he said before going back into the bathroom.

* * *

Pinky’s Monday morning was far different from what she’d planned when Louis had dropped her off at the motel. Instead of taking a bus out of town, she was driving her son’s truck back to his house. There was a key to the front door on the ring, and when she went in, she was startled to see the little dog standing in the hall.

“Oh, hell. Bobo. I know you need out.”

The little dog made a beeline for the back door. She let him out, and then grabbed a handful of paper towels and went through the house, certain she would find dog pee or poop everywhere, but there was just one little puddle beside the bed.

She wiped it up, then dug around in the kitchen until she found his kibble, and filled his food and water bowls before letting him in.

Bobo came bouncing in, then sniffed the air with a hopeful look in his eyes.

Pinky guessed what that meant. Tears welled. “He’s not coming back, dog. Sorry.”

Bobo looked at her, then walked over to his bowl, lapped up a little water and lay down beside the food with his chin on his paws.

She could tell he was sad. Well, so was she.

She headed for the bedroom where Louis had said the will would be located and dug through a conglomeration of boxes before she found the lockbox. She was a little stunned by the thoroughness with which Reece had covered his bases. She didn’t even notice that she was still thinking of them as separate people.

The will would have to go through probate before she could claim Reece’s estate, even though she was named as sole heir, and she would have to bury his body. But the more she thought about it, the more she decided not to bury him at all. She would have him cremated. She would figure out later how to dispose of the ashes. All she knew was that she wasn’t taking him back to where her husband and little boy were buried. She didn’t think her little Louis would appreciate spending eternity beside the person who’d killed him.

She found the computer and nearby a copy of the lease, and she was sitting on the side of the bed reading it—relieved to see that the rent had already been paid for the next couple of weeks—when Bobo trotted in. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and looked over just as the little dog plopped down beside her. Its long, heartfelt sigh broke her heart. The poor little thing was grieving. She leaned down and tentatively patted the top of its head, and was surprised by how soft the fur was beneath her fingertips.

“I guess you’re not so bad,” she mumbled, and then she got up and started going through the dresser drawers, making sure she didn’t leave anything important behind when she left.

When she found an extra set of car keys she dropped them in her pocket. As she did, it occurred to her that she needed to get another driver’s license. She hadn’t had a car in so long that she’d just let it lapse, but she still used her old one for a photo ID. Might as well find out what she needed to do to get a new one while she was here.

By the time noon rolled around she was in the kitchen making a meal from more leftovers.

“Bits and pieces,” she said, trying not to cry as she stirred some peas and carrots into leftover gravy, chopped up a piece of cold fried chicken she’d found, stirred it into the mix, scooped some mashed potatoes out of a storage container and spread them on top for a crust and put it in the oven to heat. “Shepherd’s pie, but with chicken not beef. Louis would have liked it,” she added. Then she set a timer and went into the living room to wait.

She turned on the TV and then stared absently at the screen without registering what was playing. She heard a thump, and noticed Bobo had jumped up on the sofa and was sitting on the cushion at the far end, watching her intently. She had to admit the terrier’s fuzzy face was sort of cute, and when she looked closer, she imagined his dark beady eyes were full of tears.

“Well, come on over if you want,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.”

Bobo flopped down on his belly and watched her.

She shrugged and then turned her attention back to the TV. The next time she sensed movement he was belly crawling toward her with his head down and his ears flat. She pretended not to see him as he crawled all the way to her leg and then stopped.

Pinky sighed. “Oh, what the hell. At least I won’t be talking to myself anymore,” she said, and she reached down and gently stroked the top of his head.

Within minutes he was in her lap, licking her fingers, and she was sobbing. Reece had left her more than money, as it turned out.

And in the past hour she’d come to another decision. She was leaving town. The fewer people who knew her connection to a madman, the better off she would be.

She would get the will to the lawyer, but since it would probably take ages for it to go through probate, she would send him her new contact information once she relocated, and they could go from there. She could leave orders for Reece’s body to be sent to the local funeral home for cremation. Thanks to him, she had the money to pay for that before she left, but what she wasn’t going to tell them was what she’d decided to do with the ashes, which was nothing. They could sit on a shelf at the funeral home for eternity and it would be all right with her because she didn’t ever want to be close to that much evil again.

She looked down at the dog in her lap and patted his head. “You and me, Bobo. What do you say? Think we can get along?”

Bobo whined and laid his head against her breasts. It was ironic that the only living thing left on this planet that was going to mourn Reece Parsons’ death was a dog.

* * *

It had taken a bit of doing and a couple of phone calls to the two men who used to work for his dad, but Mack finally got his SUV moved from the parking lot of the supermarket to the hospital. He thanked them profusely and took the opportunity to offer both of them jobs at his lumberyard if they were interested. To his surprise, Everett, the older employee, told Mack he was interested in buying the station if the price was right. The thought of someone local carrying on at the place his dad built made him happy, and he assured Everett that he would make sure the price was right.