Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey (21 page)

“Where are we eating?” Rex asked.

“How about I treat you to lunch in the
faculty lounge, cousin?”

“Thanks, Alan,” Rex said, smiling and
clapping Alan on the back as the two men walked out of the office.
Alan turned off the lights, and closed and locked the door.

* * * *

Callie was up early on Saturday. She fed the
kids and let them play in their rooms. Mac had been working hard,
preparing for the new semester. She let him sleep while she sat
down at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and the morning
paper.

She gasped and choked on the coffee,
sputtering and coughing until it cleared, when she saw the picture
of Deena Johnson on the front page and the article about her
murder. Shock set in. Deena was killed on the day Mac visited
her.

It took two days for the police to discover
Deena’s body was missing. Then it made the front page of the
newspaper. Callie put the paper down as Mac came into the kitchen
wearing only a pair of shorts. He scratched his rough cheek and
stifled a yawn. She looked at him quizzically, wondering what
happened when he went to see Deena. Mac poured himself a cup of
coffee and sat down next to Callie before he noticed her staring at
him.

“What?” he asked, leaning over to kiss
her.

“This.” Callie pointed to the paper.

Mac read the article, as he took the paper
from his wife’s hands.

“You don’t think I had anything to do with
this, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Not really? Not really? You think I’d
actually kill someone…kill Deena in cold blood? Callie, you can’t
be serious!”

“You were with her on the day she died. What
happened between you two?”

She saw the distressed look on his face.
Of course Mac would never kill anyone.
But then she
remembered the day at Doc’s Diner when he shot two people to
protect her. He hadn’t killed them, but he threatened to. Would he
kill to protect Jason? Mac’s not a killer, but the long shower and
the way he was when he returned, made her wonder.

“Callie! Please…talk to me,” he begged,
rising out of his chair.

“I know you’re not a killer. But when people
are pushed beyond a certain point, isn’t everyone a killer? Doesn’t
everyone have the potential to kill to protect their family?”

“You think I killed Deena to protect
Jason?”

“You shot Doc and Sergeant Loomis to protect
me…”

“They threatened your life…is that what you
think of me, Callie?” Mac slowly sank into a chair.

“I don’t think you’re a killer.” Callie
reached for his hand.

“You do. You think I could have killed her.”
Mac moved his hand away from hers.

“I don’t. Please tell me what happened.”

He got up from the table and went into the
living room. Callie followed.

“When you came home you were upset. You took
a long shower…like you were washing something off. What were you
washing off?”

“I didn’t kill her, Callie, I kissed her.
That’s what I was washing off.”

“You kissed her?”

“Several times, while she sat on my lap,” he
said, his eyes flashing, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Was that all?”

“I touched her too,” he admitted.

“You touched her? Where?”

“Her breasts, where do you think? Her
elbow?” he snapped.

“Mac! I thought…I thought we agreed…”

“You already forgave me for what I did,
remember? You forgave me and I called you the world’s greatest
wife. Now you think I’m a killer but you’re mad because I kissed
and touched Deena in an attempt to save our family. A little
inconsistent here?”

Callie watched him pace in front of the
window. Sadness crept into her heart.

“I’m sorry, Mac. I’m being an idiot. Of
course you had to do whatever you could to get the information from
Deena. Forget what I said. I know you’d never kill someone.” He
moved away from her, but she kept coming, cornering him, winding
her arms around his waist. He slipped his arm around her shoulders
and drew her to him. Callie kissed his bare chest. They stood at
the window locked in an embrace.

“But if you doubted me, what will the police
think?” Mac said, letting her go, heading for the kitchen and a cup
of coffee.

“Dave Williams knows you’d never kill
someone in cold blood.”

“He’s the chief of police, he has to follow
the evidence. Deena was part of a team or group blackmailing us.
People kill for less. He’s going to have to come here and talk to
me or drag me down to the station. I met Deena at The Wet Tee
Shirt. The bartender saw me and during our conversation…”

“Make out session…” Callie put in.

“Whatever! Someone frightened Deena. That
person also saw me, but I didn’t see him…or her. Perhaps it was the
killer?”

“Someone frightened Deena?”

“Suddenly she looked scared and got off my
lap,” Mac said. “The person was behind me.”

“Did he or she say anything?”

Mac shook his head.

“Must have been her partner. If we could
only find out who it was.”

“You’re not going to go snooping around are
you? This person is a killer. A cold blooded murderer. What makes
you think he won’t kill you if you become a threat?”

“Okay, I’ll let the police handle it,”
Callie reassured him.

“I wish I could believe you.” Mac drew her
into his arms again.

“I’m worried, Mac.” Callie hugged him.

“As long as you believe me, then I know
everything will be all right. I didn’t do anything wrong, so I have
nothing to hide,” Mac said, planting a kiss on the top of her
head.

“I do believe you, Mac. But we do have
something to hide, blackmail.” She rested her head on his
shoulder.

* * * *

In the afternoon on the way home from
school, Jason found the glass.

“Hey, Mom, what’s this glass on the floor?”
he asked.

Callie looked over the back seat as Jason
was reaching for the glass.

“Don’t touch!” she yelled.

He froze.

“Geez, Mom. You don’t have to yell.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s on it; leave
it till we get home.”

When they got home, Jason and Kitty went to
play in the backyard. Callie looked at the glass and saw a lipstick
stain…bright red. She never wore bright red lipstick. Then she
remembered seeing Deena put on bright red lipstick in her dressing
room. Perhaps this glass had something to do with Deena’s death.
Callie got a plastic bag and put it over her hand when she grabbed
the glass. She went inside, put the glass in the bag on the table
and dialed Steve Michaels, their lawyer.

At nine o’clock, Mac and Callie prepared for
bed as usual, except it hadn’t been the usual day. Mac pulled down
the bedcovers and sat down.

“Dave Williams called today.”

“Oh?” Callie stopped brushing her hair.

“He wants me to go down to the station and
answer a few questions.”

Callie put the brush down and joined Mac on
the bed.

“Steve told me to bring the glass with me.
This isn’t going to be pleasant. Tomorrow I’m bringing in evidence
that’ll make me look guilty.”

“Ridiculous. You didn’t do anything.” Callie
rested her hand on his shoulder.

“There might be fallout on you and the kids.
Suspicions of people in a small town…it isn’t pretty. Dad should
take you and the kids back to South Africa for a while.”

“Please don’t ask me to. We’d suffer more
being away from you. My love for you is blind, unconditional and
forever. It doesn’t stop for road blocks or hard times.” Callie
reached over and cupped his rough cheek with her palm.

Mac bent his head over and covered his eyes
with his hand.

“Was hoping you’d say that.” He got into bed
and pulled up the covers.

She cuddled up to him and closed her eyes.
They drifted into uneasy sleep.

Chapter
Thirteen

“Coffee?” Dave asked Mac as the tall, slim
man eased himself into a chair facing the policeman’s big desk in
his private office in the Willow Falls station house.

“No, thanks Dave.”

I’d prefer a cup of arsenic if you have
any.

“Then I’ll get to the point. You were seen
with Deena Johnson the day she died.”

“That’s true. I went to see her.”

“The bouncer there said Deena was sitting on
your lap and you two were kissing. You know, Mac, I’ve always
thought you and Callie had the ideal marriage.”

“We do.”

“Then why the hell were you kissing Deena
Johnson at The Wet Tee Shirt?”

“It’s a long story, Dave…” Mac began, his
hands fiddling with a pen.

“I remember when you were dating
Callie…remember the night I interrupted you two with the dorm
fire?” He chuckled.

“How could I forget? It took me a month
to…what’s your point?”

“What were you doing with Deena, Mac?” Dave
asked, opening a fresh notebook and picking up a pen.

“It’s not what you think. Believe me, Dave.
I have Callie at home, in my bed. Why would I be looking for
anything else?”

“Beats me, Mac, but plenty of guys do.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you. I’m being
blackmailed, Dave, and I think Deena was a part of it. I was there
to get information from her and only information.”

“I gotta know what she was blackmailing you
about. Was it about you and her?”

“There wasn’t anything between us.” Mac
tried to avoid revealing the truth.

“Then what was it?”

“Do I have to tell you? It doesn’t concern
me or Callie, Dave.”

“Then who are you protecting? I have to
know.”

Mac knew he’d have done the same thing in
Dave’s shoes so he related the whole story to Dave.

“I was trying to get Deena to tell me who
she passed the information to.”

“And did she?”

“She refused. At one point, toward the end
of our…uh…conversation, she saw someone, recognized someone
standing behind me. She became afraid and clammed up, exactly when
I thought she’d spill the truth.”

“How far were you willing to go to get the
truth, Mac?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Mac. You know what I mean.”

“Would I have slept with her? I wouldn’t
have. Why do you ask?”

“Just covering all the bases, checking to
see if Callie might have had a motive…”

“Callie! Now wait a minute…” Mac said,
rising from his chair.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Just being a cop,
here. I have to ask these things, put the pieces together, even if
it gets uncomfortable. I’ve known you for ten years, Mac, trust me,
I’m not enjoying this any more than you are.”

Mac remembered the glass.

“Callie wanted me to give this to you,” Mac
said, pulling out the glass encased in the plastic bag.

“Where did you get this?”

“Jason found it in the backseat of our SUV
the morning after Deena was killed. We don’t know where it came
from. We don’t have any glasses like this in our house.”

“I’ll have it analyzed.”

“So where do I stand, Dave?” Mac’s mouth was
drier than an August day in the desert.

“That’s hard to say, Mac. Where were you the
night Deena died?”

“I was at home, making love to my wife.”

“Can she corroborate that?” he asked,
smiling.

“Call her right now and ask,” Mac said his
mouth set in a grim line, his sense of humor failing him.

“Look, if this glass has something to do
with the murder, we’ll have to talk again. I wish I could tell you
you’re out of this, but I’m afraid I can’t. Please don’t leave
town. I’ll call you when I get the results on the glass.”

“And if it has something to do with the
murder?”

“Since you brought it in voluntarily, it
kinda makes you look innocent. But clever people have tried to
misdirect the police before…to divert suspicion and you certainly
are clever. To be honest, Mac, I find it hard to believe you’d kill
a fly, let alone Deena. But I have to follow the evidence,” Dave
said, closing his notebook.

“You’re not going to lock me up, are
you?”

“Goodness, no! Of course not, Mac. You’re
free to go. Were you worried?” He replaced his pen in the penholder
on his desk.

“A little,” he admitted, blowing out his
breath in relief.

“We need solid evidence to lock you up.
There’s no evidence against you, yet.”

“You make it sound ominous.”

“I don’t mean to. I want to be up front with
you, since we’re friends.”

“Thanks, Dave.” Mac stood up to go.

“Mac, one more question…did you kill Deena?”
He tried to catch Mac off guard.

“No, of course not,” Mac said, maintaining
eye contact with Dave.

“I had to ask.”

Mac called Callie when he got to the
car.

“So are you coming home for dinner?” she
asked, chewing her lower lip.

“Thankfully. But we’ll see what the glass
says. I’m not out of the woods yet. Dave told me not to leave
town.”

“Can you come home now?”

“I’m on my way.”

“I’ve made pot roast. I figure you need a
little comfort.”

“Good, but I was figuring on a different
kind of comfort tonight.”

“Oh, that’s on the menu too…for
dessert.”

* * * *

Alan rushed home with a batch of papers to
be corrected, his first written assignment of the semester. He
separated the boys’ papers from the girls’, bringing home the
girls’ first. He poured a glass of red wine and settled into a
comfortable armchair. This first batch should tell him who he could
expect to be having sex with soon.

At midnight, Alan took off his reading
glasses and put the papers away. It was time to get to bed and
dream about the bodies of the three girls who were obviously in
danger of failing his course. Rex wasn’t home, which was typical.
Alan turned out the light and went to sleep.