Unbelievable (13 page)

“Sorry, I’m not usually a hugger,” she laughed, breaking her hold. “It’s just that I’ve had such a hate relationship with my hair. It’s never looked this good. It’s never looked
half
this good. Thank you so much.” She turned back to the mirror, her smile filling her face. “Let’s go test it on Seth.”

I followed her down the stairs, noting the look on Seth’s face as she entered the kitchen. I couldn’t decide who glowed more, him or her. While Seth ooh’ed and ahh’ed over her hair, I stood back and watched. His hands gently touched it as he commented on how silky it looked. His eyes sparkled.

Envy reared its ugly head yet again. It gnawed like a starving wolf in the pit of my stomach.
Will I ever find someone to love me like that?

“Yes,” Cole said, coming up behind me. “Definitely.”

“What?” I asked, spinning to face him.

“Maggie said you have a real gift with hair, and I said yes, definitely. You did a great job. You’re a woman of many talents. You can organize chaos, complet
ely revamp a pathetic office, and now Maggie’s hair.” He lowered his head next to my ear, adding quietly, “You’re astounding.”

“Thanks,” and to flirt a little, I stretched up, kissing his cheek. Right on track, his ears turned red.

“You’re adorable, has anyone ever told you that?” I grinned as he straightened. I tenderly stroked his cheek before reaching up to run my hand through his hair, ruffling it up. Goose bumps raised on his bare arm. “You could use a trim, too. Maybe after lunch I could cut your hair.”

“No, ah, actually, I’m heading over to the hospital. I’ll have to eat quickly, as a matter of fact.” He smoothed down
his hair and darted over to the table.

Lunch consisted of delicious roast beef sandwiches, the best I’d ever eaten, along with French cut green beans with almond slivers. The food was out of this world
; in fact, hardly any one spoke as we inhaled the feast. Cole finished first, jumping to his feet before I’d eaten half my food.

“I have to go. Mags, your hair looks beautiful. Seth, you’ve out done yourself again. Lunch was a masterpiece,” Cole said, running a napkin over his mouth. “Lilah, I’ll see you Monday.”

I jumped up as he made a beeline for the door. “Wait, I’ll walk you to your car.” He didn’t stop. He actually increased his pace.

“Cole, are you afraid to be alone with me?” I teased, stepping onto the beautiful wraparound porch. I inhale
d the scent of pink and yellow roses that interlaced through the trellis near the porch.

Cole stopped and turned to me. “No,” he smiled. “One of my associates is performing a heart transplant in half an hour. I’ve only observed it one other time.”

I glanced at the driveway. “You’re going to be late. Someone’s parked an old grandpa car right in the center of the driveway. I’m afraid you won’t be able to get out.” I pointed to a pristine white vehicle and added, “Are Seth’s grandparents here?” I looked around the yard but saw no one.

“That’s my car,” Cole said soberly.

I saw the hurt in Cole’s eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. Two weeks’ worth of flirting flushed down the toilet in five seconds. I never wanted to take back something I’d said as much as I did in that moment.

“It’s a good car. There’s not a scratch on it,” he said as we approached it. “And the safety record’s second to none.”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, checking out the inside. “What year is it?”

He hesitated. “1999. But it only has 47,000 miles on it, so why trade it in, right?”

“47,000? Why so few?”

“I don’t drive it very much. Just to work and back is all. I guess I should take a trip,” he said quietly. “I’d better get going.”

“You need to control your tongue, Delilah,” I murmured as he drove away. The delicious lunch churned in my gut.

Chapter 11

Cole

“You’re still up?” I asked.

Seth came down the grand staircase he and Book had built, taking the steps two at a time, going straight to the fridge. He’d been studying pretty hard, which meant he was probably starved again. The kid could eat a lot, almost as much as Booker. He removed a large glass platter with leftovers from dinner. Roast
ed fish, potatoes of some kind—I forgot what he called them—and carrots sautéed in…I’ve no idea what, but it tasted good.

“Studying, I see.” I walked over and sat down on a barstool.

“Yeah. Got a big statistics report due on Friday. Man, it’s a killer. I’ll be glad when this class ends.” He laid a huge slab of fish and an even larger scoop of potatoes onto a plate. “You hungry? I can dish some up for you,” Seth offered after placing his plate in the microwave.

“No. I’m good, thanks.” I snagged a carrot before he covered the platter and stuck it back in the fridge. The microwave beeped. He took the plate out and set in on the counter across from me and took a bite of the
fish.

“Can I ask you a question?” He nodded, his mouth too full to reply verbally. “Do you think I’m boring?” I said bluntly. No sense sugar coating it.

He swallowed hard. “Uh…well…why do you think that?” He avoided looking at me.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Cole, people are different. One man’s boring is another man’s exciting.” He shoveled in a mouthful of potatoes.

“Okay, I’m boring.” I walked back over and slumped onto the couch. “Lilah said I was boring, too.”

“Ouch.” Seth walked over with his plate and sat in the overstuffed chair next to the couch. “Why did she say that?”

“She never said those words exactly, but she calls me Opie all the time, and she thinks my car’s an old man’s car.”

“The girl likes you. I doubt she thinks you’re boring, Cole. The real question is do
you
think you’re boring?” he asked diplomatically.

“I love my job. I enjoy coming up with new ways to improve people’s life. I love the challenge of improving techniques for surgeries and …Oh
, yeah. I’m boring.” I sat back in defeat.

Seth laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with those things, but maybe you could branch out a little, get a hobby or something.”

“Hobby? I’m the most uncoordinated man I know. What hobby requires no coordination?” I looked at him pointedly.

“It may take some time, but I’m sure we can come up with something,” he assured me. “You’re good at running. How about tennis—No! Not tennis.” He rubbed his rib, clearly recalling the time I elbowed him during a double’s tennis match once. I bruised several of his ribs that day. He sat silently for a few moments, which only added to my dejection.

“Marathons. You like to run. How about running marathons?” He smiled brightly.

“No. I’ve seen too many people and their injuries in the ER after a marathon. Not interested.”

“You and your obsession with statistics.” He shook his head. “Fly fishing? No. Never mind.” He cringed, no doubt dreaming up some horrific way I’d injury myself or someone else with a fish hook gone wild. “You didn’t do too badly the time Booker took us all fishing.”

Too badly
being the optimal words in that sentence. I closed my eyes. Hopeless. “I’m doomed to be boring.”

“What are you two doing up?” Neither of us heard Booker enter. The man was truly cat-like in so many ways. He went straight to the fridge and grabbed the milk, drinking from the container. “Your security system isn’t activated, by the way.”

“I’m still up so I haven’t set it yet. And don’t let Mags see you do that,” Seth warned.

Booker looked like a man destined for the homeless shelter. His jeans were at least two sizes too big and sported a large hole above his calf. He also wore a filthy t-shirt covered by a flannel shirt that was threadbare and misshapen. His face and hands were covered in thick grime of some sort, and his hair, which needed a trim anyway, looked as if he hadn’t seen a comb in weeks, maybe months.

“Hey, Book. How’s the assignment going?” Seth asked, setting his now empty plate in the sink and grabbing the milk from Booker. He wiped off the spout, and then took a swig himself, but not before checking to make sure Maggie was still upstairs.

“Not too bad. Got a lead on a guy who’s—”

“What’s that smell?” Seth clamped a hand tight over his mouth and nose, as did I.

“You like it?” Booker lifted the lapel of his shirt to his nose and sniffed. I coughed a little. “Found it in a dumpster behind Wegman’s grocery store. Completes my ensemble rather nicely, wouldn’t you say?” He strutted around like a runway model, sucking in his cheeks for effect.

“Yeah, well, the guy who died in it last week called and wants it back.” Seth grabbed a can of Febreze
from under the kitchen sick and sprayed the air, adding a little to Booker. It didn’t help much, and he immediately backed away again.

“Stop. If I smell all pretty, no one will trust me.” He tugged his shirt around him protectively, tearing a hole under the arm. He twisted it around to inspect the tear. “Hey, this looks even better now.”

“What were you saying about leads?” Seth asked from across the room. As Booker stepped forward, Seth’s hand shot up in front of him, sending a clear message that Booker was to stay put.

“I thought your cases involved drugs
,” I, too, asked from across the room.

“Rumor has it some scumbags are testing out a new form of crack, and the homeless crowd’s the
ir latest guinea pigs. They think they’re getting a free sample of some new form of herbal cigarette. Needless to say, they’re not.”

“That’s sick,” I cringed.

“We’re getting close, though. I can feel it.” No doubt Booker was right. He had a sixth sense with this kind of thing. He certainly had the drive. I wished he’d pull back some; it was starting to mess with his head. He continually put himself in dangerous situations. His luck couldn’t hold out forever, not to mention what it was doing to his emotional state.

“Miss having you out there, kid. How’s school going?” Booker took an apple from a bowl Maggie set on the counter after dinner earlier. Booker actually wiped the apple clean on his disgusting shirt. I cringed as he took a huge bite.

“I miss being out there,” Seth admitted. He’d gone to part time status when he went back to school. “And I’ll be glad when school’s done. I forgot about all the hoop jumping colleges put you through. Next semester, I have to take a class called ‘Workings of the Female Mind’.”

Booker laughed. “Good luck on that one. I don’t know a man yet who’s got that figured out.”

Poor Seth, disgruntled, nodded.

Booker stepped back and tossed his apple core gracefully though the air and directly in the
garbage can.

“Nuttin’ but net,” he beamed before looking over at me. “So, Doc, no bandages today? I believe that makes three days in a row. Seems like living here definitely agrees with you.” He flashed me his signature playful grin.

I ignored his question, not wanting to admit I did have one on my arm near my shoulder. Thankfully my scrub top covered it.

“How are you doing?” I looked at him pointedly, wondering if he’d be truthful or joke it off.

The grin fell slightly from his face as he answered. “Good and bad days, though more good than bad lately. I did learn that Dreser left the country. Seems he’s pretty sick and the doctors in the U.S. can’t help him much. Rumor has it he’s going to some shifty little clinic somewhere in Switzerland. Maybe they’ll give him something lethal,” he joked…I think.

“What about his daughter?” Seth braved himself and drew closer. He, too, worried about Dreser seeking revenge.

“She’s never been involved with the business, at least not as far as we know. I don’t think she’s a problem.”

Holding his breath,
Seth hurried over to a window and flung it open. The heat had to be better than Booker’s smell.

“What about searching passport records for her name? Maybe she fled the country,” Seth suggested.

“Dreser’s don’t carry legally obtained passports. It’d be a waste of time and resources to search. I’ll send out some feelers, see what we come up with. Frankly, I’ve not spent too much time on her. She’s a non-issue for me.” I suspected Booker was lying, probably hoping to keep Seth calm. Not having all the info on these two bothered him a great deal. In fact, I pointed out that the Dreser girl had never been involved in criminal activity to calm him down after he’d had a panic attack one unforgettable night.