Sterling's Reasons (21 page)
She positioned herself over him and slid slowly down. A complete union.
Mind. Body. Soul. Again, they took each other through a dark, swirling, myriad of images and sensations. A coupling as old as time itself, new and exciting as if just discovered. And full of unspoken promises and love. Sterling arched her back and felt him grip her thighs. They were swept higher and higher to fall over the edge together.
Later, much later, she lay curled in his arms, resisting the temptation to sleep. “The babies are crying.”
He laughed and rolled on top of her. “I don’t hear anything except a few cats whining.”
“You’d make a good father, Joe. Ever think about it? I’ve watched you with those kittens.”
“You can keep kids in a box under the sink?”
She caught his mouth with hers and murmured against it, “Feed your babies, Joe.”
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Sterling’s Reasons
The babies contented, fat and asleep, Joe joined Sterling on the deck. She was in a lawn chair with her feet propped up on the railing, as if they hadn’t a problem in the world.
“We’ve got a real mystery here, Sterling. Who has my gun and why?”
She stirred and opened her eyes slowly. “The killer you two were after—they got him didn’t they?”
“I assume they did. Everyone was there when Red died. I don’t know. How could I be so stupid?”
“It’s not called stupid, Joe. It’s called out of it. You were a goner when I got here.”
“IAD never said. All they were interested in were my movements, Red’s position.” He was astounded at his own ignorance and just how far he was from the life he had led. He had set himself adrift, hoping for destruction. He hated this.
“Ramsburg said something about reading the newspapers. I’ll call him and see what he meant. Maybe he read something unusual. Could be the killer is dead. Maybe someone else is involved.”
“It’s dangerous for us to be here,” he said, looking up and down the beach.
“If someone was going to hurt us, they’ve already had plenty of opportunity.
Try to relax and we’ll think this out. We’re in this together, Joe. We’ll make it through.”
He ruffled her hair. “Always the Pollyanna, the Mary Poppins, except, of course, when I make you mad and you’re Captain Hook making me walk the plank. I never thought I’d see the day a woman would be the most important thing in my life.”
“Am I, Joe?” She pulled him to her. “Am I?”
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Joey Light
A bullet cracked the air and hit the sand, spraying it, just off the bottom step of the deck. Instinctively, he threw her to the floor and covered her with his body. She felt the thudding of his heart and watched him try to peer around.
“What was that?” she asked, knowing the answer.
“Inside,” he ordered, and shoved her ahead of him. He made a dash for his gun on the bedside table and was out the front door of the cottage in a flash.
Sterling crept to the window and looked out. Joe was standing in the open, legs braced apart, arms extended, gun in his hand. Every muscle in his body was taut and ready for action. His eyes scanned up the road and down. He moved, changed his position, and carefully cataloged everything he saw.
She looked around, but saw nothing. No movement. No car speeding off down the road. No assassin lurking in the shadows. She took a deep breath and realized she hadn’t been breathing for the last few minutes.
He came back inside. A determined line creased his forehead. His face was ashen. Fury pressed his lips together. His sharp eyes were dark and menacing.
He paused to stand before her, absorbing her with his gaze. He had to protect her any way he could. “Nothing. This has gone too far. Pack your things and get back to New York or wherever you came from. Your Mr. Ramsburg’s money can’t fix this one.”
He was gone from her again. In one split second everything was changed.
Time spun backward and Joe Timothy MacDaniels was all cop. A wronged and dangerous cop.
“It still could be kids. Teenagers do plenty of dumb things when they’re bored. You could have been spotted anywhere we’ve been. They could have decided to play with you.” Even as she spoke the words she didn’t believe them herself.
He snorted a laugh. “Just do what I said.”
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She watched him slide the gun down in his boot. He moved to his room and slipped his shirt on. “I’m going to take a ride around. Be gone when I get back.”
He pulled her roughly to him and kissed her, a resounding kiss, and was out the door.
She stood for long moments after the sound of his Jeep had faded. Just like that. Be gone! Right. She listened to the sound of his disappearing Jeep. None of this made any sense at all. Joe didn’t make any, either. Did he really expect her to pack up and run away from him and the situation?
To give her nerves time to settle, she took her time straightening up the cottage. She puttered around on the deck, watching over her shoulder and feeling uneasy.
Could he be right this time? Could someone be trying to kill him? Who? It was then she remembered Ramsburg’s request. Read the newspapers, Sterling, just to keep up with the case. She checked her watch. Almost noon. Glancing around, she ran down the steps of his deck and up the steps of her own. She would call him and ask him what he knew.
167
Chapter Twelve
Still nervous, Sterling fumbled as she dialed the phone. Forcing a deep breath, she tried again, this time punching the correct buttons. It rang three times before Mr. Ramsburg picked up.
“Mr. Ramsburg, how is everything?” She was determined to sound calm and serene. She would.
“Everything’s shipshape here, my girl,” he told her, clearing his throat.
“Good,” she replied as she concentrated on his voice. It was good to connect with normalcy.
“How’s your tan coming?” he asked absently, and Sterling pictured him going over a new file or scanning the newspaper.
My tan. Yes, my tan. That’s important. “I’m a golden California surfer girl.
Listen, Mr. Ramsburg, the last time we talked you said something about reading the newspapers. I haven’t had time to pick up one. What was in there you wanted me to see?”
She noticed a change in his tone. “Why? Has there been some sort of trouble?”
“It’s just been on my mind.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop. There certainly had been.
“It seems that the deceased policeman’s father has been making noises that the investigation wasn’t complete enough. He, ah, he sort of believes that MacDaniels was negligent…and should be charged.”
Sterling’s Reasons
Was that all? She held up her hand, thumb up. Relieved, she remembered to ask, “The man who the police were chasing that night Joe shot Red. Did they get him?”
Ramsburg was silent a moment before answering, “You
are
getting to know MacDaniels, aren’t you?”
“Of course. We just haven’t spent much time discussing the incident. He’s in pretty bad shape over it.”
“Yes. Well, they did. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Pretty sorry character, that one. He’d been eluding the police for a good while. Spreading carnage along his way. I hate to think of it this way, Sterling, but even though the incident resulted in one policeman’s death, in the long run it most certainly saved many, many lives.”
Sterling heard her breath come out in a sigh. She hadn’t realized how afraid she was to hear that the man might still be alive. “But Red’s father is causing a fuss, huh?”
“Haven’t seen anything recently, but right after you left, yes.”
“Well, thanks for the information. I’ll be in touch.”
“Sterling…” he began, then continued after a moment’s pause, “don’t put yourself in any danger.”
“Me? Danger?” That’s a good one, she thought. “I’m out here lying in the sun and swimming as the weather permits. Joe and I are friends. I ought to know what he needs shortly. I’ll call you. Bye.”
She hung up the receiver before he could question her further. Leaning a hip against the counter, she tried to channel her thoughts, fought to put aside her growing feeling of dread. It could be just a simple thing. It could be. But she didn’t think so.
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Joey Light
Anxious, Sterling looked out the window for any sign of Joe. This is what it would be like if they did manage to make a life together. Always waiting.
Always wondering. She shook her head. Other wives do it. She smiled, despite everything, and shook her head again. Other
women
do it. She wasn’t about to tempt fate and actually start thinking toward the day they would be married. She wouldn’t nurture that seed of hope that had evidently planted itself. Whatever kind of life they had together, it would be enough. But they would be together.
She was certain of it.
Wanting to be busy, she took her castle to her nightstand and took a moment to admire it, touch it. Then changing to jeans and a T-shirt, Sterling walked out the front door and strolled down the road. She couldn’t let her fears hinder her now. Too much had changed. Her priorities were different now. If she was going to face what she was afraid was happening to Joe, she had to do just that…meet it head on. Striving for casualness, Sterling held her head high and took the first step.
After fifteen minutes of strolling up and then down the road, she sauntered back toward Joe’s cottage to wait. Proud that she had been able to take the walk without cringing, she approached the front door.
It was then that she saw it. She made her way carefully to the cottage.
Alerted now to the fact that someone could jump out at her at any moment, she looked back up the road and then down again. Straining her ears to pick up any unusual sound, she crouched down to inspect what leaned against the front door. Whoever was threatening Joe wasn’t where he was looking. They were here, close by.
Leaning precariously against the door was a sizable piece of cardboard with the sinister words crayoned on it: “I could have had you anytime. Watch your back.” Beneath it was propped a gun. Joe’s gun.
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Sterling looked around. She could almost feel eyes upon her. Rebelling against this cruel trick, she bent and retrieved the gun and the cardboard.
Holding the automatic in one hand, she pretended to look around bravely. Let whoever was watching see that she wasn’t going to run and hide. Let them see that she wasn’t going to scream and run away. They could have shot her or Joe at any time. They were playing a game. The cruelest kind. She silently prayed the gun was loaded and then added a P.S. that she didn’t have to pull the trigger.
After a moment, she moved into the house casually, and then shut the door.
Sucking in air, she leaned her back against the door and tried to slow the beating of her heart.
This was mean, twisted, demented. Who? Who would want to drive Joe over the edge of sanity? Red’s father?
She hid the cardboard under the mattress and slid the gun under the pillow.
She would give them to him only after she had time to think this out.
When he returned, Joe burst through the door. She was sitting in a chair by the sliding door, thumbing through one of his paperbacks trying to appear completely unruffled.
She looked up innocently.
He nailed her with a scowling look. “I remember telling you to get out of here.”
“You did,” she agreed. “I’m not going.”
Joe paced. He stopped at the refrigerator long enough to pull a beer from within. Popping the top, he slugged the cold liquid. “You are.”
She challenged him insolently. “You seriously think I’m going to leave you now?”
“You’re leaving,” he concluded.
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Joey Light
“Be reasonable, Joe.” She turned in the chair and propped a leg over the arm.
“Two of us on the alert is much better than one.”
He dropped onto the couch and lit a cigarette. “I can’t watch my back and yours, too. You’ll be helping me if you leave.” His words were forced through his set jaw and clenched teeth. His anger was very evident. He dragged a hand through his hair and tried not to dwell on her defiance.
“They killed the man you and Red were after. I called Mr. Ramsburg.” She turned a page of the book.
Joe stared at her. Now nothing made sense. It would have helped if he had been right about that man coming after him.
He dragged himself up and walked to the doors. He looked to the ocean for diversion. Yesterday, hell, just this morning, everything looked good. He was really beginning to feel competent again. He had been given a glance at what life could be like and now it was threatened. He hated this.
“That information just makes it worse. That thug I can contend with. It’s not knowing what or who I’m facing that makes the frustration factor very high.” He sucked in smoke and expelled it furiously.
He was different somehow. She sensed it. He was holding himself straighter.
His gaze shifted to see everything at once. His body was tense and ready to spring. He was all cop. Not the snarling, defensive man she had met when she first arrived. He was nowhere near the man who had taken himself out of life.
The anger was there, but it was directed differently.
She liked the man she saw pacing around the cottage. Sterling understood this man. The one that snorted and walked back and forth and finally kicked a chair over to sit next to her in front of the door. She felt confident that no one could hurt them. No one could best this man in a fight. He was quicker, he was stronger, he was smarter.
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“Not just what you’re facing, Joe. What
we’re
facing. What do we do now, Joe? How do we find out who is after you? You’re the cop here. Tell me.”
“We don’t do anything. I know what I have to do. I expected you to be gone when I got back here.”
