To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5) (10 page)

It
had been sheer relief to collapse back on the bed.

“There.” 
Joanne sat down next to her on the bed, beaming.  “Much better.  And
I just love this outfit Berry. When I was younger we would have called these
lounging pyjamas.”  Joanne ran a gentle hand over the dark red material of
the silk crepe PJ’s Berry was wearing.  Thank the Goddess Great-Great-Aunt
Etta had been of a rather decadent nature. Half the trunk Berry had co-opted as
her own appeared to be full of clothes more suited to the boudoir than for
public viewing.

Berry
let Joanne fuss over her and fetch her some tea that she didn’t particularly
want. Drinking it slowly as Joanne bustled about the room unpacking her things
from two suitcases that someone had kindly fetched from her Great-Grandparent’s
place.  She really didn’t want her things unpacked… it made her stay here
at Hotshot Hughes’ apartment feel too permanent, but she understood Joanne’s
need to keep busy, to keep her mind off whatever was really worrying her.

“Where
are you staying?”  Berry asked between sips of tea.

“At
the retirement village. There is so much to do there, every evening they have
movies, dances and activities.”  Joanne smiled broadly.

Berry
fought not to wince. She so couldn’t afford the cost of Joanne living at the
retirement community full time.  Though she was extremely grateful to the
centre, since coming to the Sanctuary her mother-in-law had begun to
thrive.  She’d lost that haunted look she had for far too long… since the
day she’d arrived home from her cousin’s daughter’s wedding to find her house
repossessed and her only child in custody, having stolen everything from her,
leaving her nothing but the suitcase she had in her hand.

“And
I’m having such a ball staying with your Great-Aunt Daphne, she’s promised to
show me how to make some earrings to match my blue dress.”

“Big
date?”

“Maybe.” 
Joanne smiled over her shoulder as she hung the last of Berry’s clothes in the
large closet.

Berry
finished her tea and placed the empty cup down watching as Joanne searched for
some new activity to keep her busy.

“Jo…
what’s up?”  Berry asked softly, not wanting to scare her.

“Nothing. 
Everything is fine.”  She straightened the sheets and blankets, something
she’d already done twice.

“Jo.” 
Berry captured her small hand, surprised at how cool and fragile it felt under
her touch.  “You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry.” 
Joanne sank gracefully to sit on the edge of the bed, turning her hand so she
could clasp Berry’s fingers.  “I… I…  Do you think Robert could have
had anything to do with your accident?”

Berry
wasn’t sure she’d term getting shot an accident but she didn’t think now was
the time to correct terminology, especially since this was the first instance
Joanne had voluntarily bought up the subject of her son by herself in over two
years.  Berry performed a one shouldered shrug.  “How could it…
Robert is in prison?  Besides, why would he try to hurt me?”

Joanne
frowned.  “I don’t know.  Perhaps he was hurt… the divorce…”

Berry
couldn’t help but laugh.  “Jo, I’m really not sure if Robert ever really
loved me but I certainly don’t think he would be behind someone taking pot
shots at me with a gun.”  Especially since she was pretty confident the
gun had been aimed at Chief Hughes, not her.

“But
he was always said the two of you were perfect together.  That you were
the perfect wife.”

Berry
fought not to flinch, she hated that word,
perfect
.  Yes, Robert
had used it a lot, trying to convince her that they belonged together when what
he really meant was that she’d been the
perfect
patsy, the
perfect
blind fool.
 
The
perfect
means to an end for him.  “Joanne, Robert’s in prison.  I’m sure he
didn’t have anything to do with the… accident.”

Joanne
didn’t look entirely convinced.  “I hope you’re right.”  She squeezed
Berry’s hand.  “You know his father always used to refer to me as the
perfect wife.”  Her blue eyes dimmed in memory. Heavens, Berry hoped she
wasn’t going to cry.  Then Joanne’s eyes cleared and she gave Berry a
fierce smile.  “I always hated that word… no one’s perfect. Least of all
Randolph, not me and certainly not our son.”  Joanne leaned over, pressing
a soft kiss on Berry’s cheek.  “Well I have to go, I have a date tonight.”

“Of
course you do.”  Berry smiled in real amusement, pleased beyond measure at
the feisty strength Joanne was displaying these days.

“Call
me if you need anything, anything at all.”  Joanne swept up her bag and
her pashmina then paused.  “You know darling, it might do you the world of
good to consider finding someone new… I’d hate to think you’re letting what
happened with Robert stand in the way of your future happiness.”

Thankfully
Joanne had already breezed out so she didn’t have to witness Berry’s mouth
dropping open in complete shock and surprise.  Damn those shit stirring
seniors, they’d converted Joanne to their wicked interfering ways.

Even
hours later, watching the boats turn and head towards the marina as the
lengthening afternoon shadows stole across the bay Berry couldn’t get her head
around Joanne’s defection.  The one person who knew how much damage Robert
had laid waste to her life… her self-esteem.
 
She had whole heartedly believed her mother-in-law was her staunchest
supporter when it came to how she chose to lead her new, single life.
 
Bloody Hell, she was really starting to
regret encouraging Joanne to join the sunshine seniors’ club.
 
No good had come of it so far… cats… Joanne’s
defection. Bunch of shit stirrers, the lot of them.

*                        
*                     
*

Zeke
shot to his feet.  “Problem?” Facing Ramsey as he entered the apartment.

Ramsey
nodded, unable to keep the scowl off his face.  “Yeah.  I’ll take
things from here.  Head to the station, Mac will fill you in on what’s
going on.” After a day spent combing through public records concerning all the
court cases Berry had presided over for the last eight months with no leads
popping, Ramsey’s day had just gone effectively from bad, to defcon
worse. 

Ten
minutes ago the Head of the minimum security prison where Robert Granger was
incarcerated had finally returned Ramsey’s call, and the news was not
good.  Nine days ago there had been a storm, a nearby river had flooded
and in the confusion Robert Granger, his cellmate and five others had
escaped. 

Ramsey
was lucky he’d been able to pry that much information out of the warden.
 
Egotistical fool had been hoping to keep everything
on the down low until all the prisoners had been re-captured, but only three
had been found so far and with the press sniffing around and Ramsey’s call
requesting information it seemed like the cat was out of the bag. 

There
could be almost no doubt now that Berry Malone’s ex-husband had something to do
with her shooting.  Now it was his job to give her the news of Granger’s
escape and question her on where he might go.  Who he might try to
contact? 

“If
you’re looking for Berry, she’s in the living room.”  Zeke slung his
jacket over one arm and let himself out.

Ramsey
changed direction, heading towards the living room.  He hoped Berry hadn’t
gotten out of bed too soon, gunshot wounds could be tricky.  And hearing
the news he was about to impart wasn't going to help the situation.  Hell,
it felt like the world was conspiring against him.  Despite his thunderous
mood Ramsey strode into the living room without making a sound, even so, Berry
appeared to be hyper aware of his presence, her head turning instantly to sight
his approach.

She
looked small, fragile and gorgeous.
 
Reclining on the large sofa dressed in a loose dark red silky pyjama
type outfit that perfectly complimented the spill of her dark curls, dusky skin
and those flashing decadent chocolate brown eyes of hers.  Damn, he should
not be thinking about sex when he saw her, or the way the colour of her full
mouth matched almost perfectly the colour of her pyjamas.  He should be
thinking of her as a victim, someone to protect.
 
At least the glaring cream coloured sling
around her left arm provided an upfront visible reminder.

“Hey
there, how you feeling?”  She looked heaps better than she had last night,
when he taken the precaution of checking in on her whilst he was on the night
shift.  Very conscious every time he stole into her room that she might
wake up and find him looming over her, but each time finding it harder and
harder to leave her side.

Berry
fought hard not to roll her eyes, now he cares.  She hadn’t laid eyes on
him since the shooting.  “Good… better.”  She shifted and
automatically winced.  “Well getting there, it still feels…”  She
hesitated, trying to think of the right words to describe it.

“Numbness
and a general heavy feeling, interrupted by the occasional giant wave of jagged
pain?”

“Wow.” 
She chuffed a laugh.  “Just how many times have you been shot?”

Ramsey
shrugged, sitting down in an armchair diagonal to her position rather than
place his back to the balcony windows.  “Never, though I have taken a
cricket bat to the shoulder and had a couple of knife wounds.”

“Are
you just clumsy, or are people out to get you?”

Ramsey
shrugged again, wishing he’d never started this conversation.  “I’ve
primarily worked undercover. It doesn’t pay to be too lucky.”  He eyed
her, wondering if she understood what he was trying to say.

“Or
they start to think you’re too professional or that someone might be protecting
you.”  Berry grimaced.  “But still… a cricket bat?”

“Problem
was, they were aiming for my head at the time.
 
I had to think fast and let them hit me somewhere that wasn’t going to
cause me permanent damage, almost broke my arm though.  You’ll probably
feel better the day after tomorrow.”

“I
hope so, I just managed a bath today and was as shaky as hell.”

The
light in the room had turned a pinkish red as the sun began to set and it took
all of Ramsey’s self-control not to blurt out how great she looked right at
that moment, even with faint dark circles under her eyes and peeved by pain.

“Is
that how you got the scars?”  Berry eyed the two white raised lines along
the side of his jaw.  “Did it happen on the job?” 

“Nah.” 
Ramsey absently rubbed fingers over the stubble across his chin.  “Fell
out of a tree when I was a kid… twice.”  He smiled in memory. “Third time
was a charm.”

Damn,
she could just imagine him a stubborn youngster determined to achieve his
objective but seriously, the man should not smile, it was… sinful.  She’d
blurted out the first inane question that came to mind.  Anything to
distract her from the way the darkening fiery sky made his hair look like a
glossy touchable dark pelt or the way the khaki shirt he wore clung to his
muscular frame, men in uniform...  men out of uniform. Whoa, how much of
Nell’s tea had she drunk today?  She needed to stop this line of thought,
concentrate on getting better, find another bolthole, somewhere a good distance
from Ramsey Hughes’s large presence.

Ramsey
eyed her speculatively, a solid immovable presence.  “We need to talk,
there’s something…”

“Yes,
let’s chat about who would want you dead Hotshot.”  Berry was determined
to take control of the conversation.

“Me?” 
Ramsey looked genuinely surprised for a moment.

“Yes. 
You’re the career cop with a history of putting bad guys away.  Bad guys
who get out of prison and want revenge on the person who locked them up. 
Or who have brothers or cousins willing to do their dirty work for them. 
And let’s not discount the women; girlfriends, wives and Baby-Mamas, who think
you did wrong by their man and want you to pay.”

Ramsey
blinked slowly as he processed what she said, then he grinned, then he started
to laugh.  Goddess, it was an attractive sound. Deep, gravelly and
sexy.  When he laughed it made Berry’s fingers twitch to reach out and
touch him.  Deliberately she moved her sore arm, welcoming the distracting
pain.

“Sorry.” 
Ramsey’s laughter finally died away.  “That’s quite an active imagination
you have but it couldn’t have been me the shooter was after.  I’ve spent
my entire detective career working undercover. Rock solid aliases with an
obituary at the end of every case to take care of any loose ends.  Me…
Ramsey Hughes, barely exists.
 
No
permanent home, no family, no entanglements, let alone any enemies.”

Berry
bit the inside of her cheek, why did she suddenly feel so sad for him?  He
didn’t look like he was trying to manipulate her feelings, but then neither had
Robert. Although her ex would have followed up a statement like that by giving
her the big innocent Bambi eyes, deliberately seeking sympathy.
 
But Ramsey Hughes had shared this personal
information with her as if it were no big deal, inconsequential even, that he
was all alone in the world.