Untraceable (20 page)

He pulled her closer against his warm, hard chest and she drew in a breath.

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

“Honey, it’s okay.” His fingers feathered over her cheek, and she choked on a sob.

And then the game was up, and she curled into a ball and didn’t even try to hold back. She cried raggedly, noisily, like she hadn’t cried since she was a kid. Nathan didn’t say anything. He just held her close, and even through the duvet, she felt the solid heat of him.

When all the tears were gone, she put her hand on top of his and clutched it to her chest, and the warmth of it was the last thing she thought of as she finally fell asleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY - TWO

Alex came awake slowly. Her mind was foggy. Muddled. Her gaze fixed on a scarred leather jacket flung across a chair, and she remembered Nathan.

And Melanie.

She sat up in bed and immediately felt dizzy.

Then she remembered the pain pills. She glanced at the bandage on her left arm and pictured the baby-faced resident who’d stitched her up and brought her the little brown bottle. She glanced around and tried to orient herself. She faintly remembered waking up at dawn, and the room had been blanketed in bluish light, rain thrumming just outside the windows. A warm, strong arm had tightened around her and pulled her close.

The light was bright now, the sharp bright of morning. Or maybe afternoon.

She heard the low murmur of a male voice and glanced through the French door on the other side of the room. A pair of familiar boots was propped on a wrought-iron table there. He was on the phone.

Alex kicked off the covers and padded across the room. She dug her phone from her purse and touched the screen. One-
thirty
? She’d slept the day away! She jabbed the numbers for information and drummed her fingers on the table impatiently as the operator gave her the number and then patched her through to Tulane University Hospital. After a brief exchange with a hospital staffer, Alex hung up.

She rummaged through her backpack, but came up with nothing to wear, not even a pair of running shorts. For what she’d thought would be a brief overnight, she’d packed only a T-shirt, a travel kit, underwear, and a pair of flip-flops. The bloody clothes she’d left on the bathroom floor had disappeared.

Frustrated, she crossed the room and pulled open the door to the balcony. Nathan’s gaze met hers as he listened on his phone.

She stepped outside and looked out, not caring that the flower boxes hanging off the railing didn’t fully block the view of her standing there half naked. She surveyed the scene below. The sidewalks were crowded with tourists, the streets clogged with cars. Over the din of traffic, she heard the soulful moan of a saxophone being played somewhere close by.

“I got it covered,” Nathan said into his phone. “Okay, then. Catch you later.”

Alex turned around as he clicked off. He held her gaze for a moment and then his attention drifted lower.

“What happened to my jeans?” she asked.

“They bit the dust.”

She arched her eyebrows.

“I’ve cleaned up plenty of jeans. Trust me, those were history.”

She leaned back against the railing, and her gaze landed on the white coffee cup sitting on the floor next to his chair. Behind him, on an ornate little table, she spotted a carafe and another white cup and saucer.

She stepped across the narrow balcony and poured herself some coffee. It was lukewarm, and she didn’t bother with cream before taking a gulp. It tasted strong, like the coffee she’d had at Nathan’s all those mornings ago when she’d shown up to take him jogging. The caffeine went straight into her veins.

“I don’t have anything else to wear,” she said, turning to face him.

“Yeah, you do.”

“I didn’t bring—”

“I got you a dress at the gift shop next door.”

She blinked at him over the coffee cup. “A
dress
?”

“It wasn’t exactly the Gap. They didn’t have jeans there.”

Alex bit back a comment. He’d bought her a dress. She didn’t wear dresses. And she couldn’t imagine what sort of selection they’d had in the gift shop next door. She pictured something black with feathers and maybe a Mardi Gras mask to go with it.

She’d deal with it later. She sank into the chair across from him, keeping her knees together to preserve some semblance of decorum. But his gaze settled on her legs anyway.

“I just called the hospital and—”

“No change,” he finished for her. “I called, too. Twice.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Since nine.”

He’d barely had four hours of sleep, but he looked showered and clean-shaven and completely alert. What had he been doing all this time? And how had she slept through it?

“It’s the meds.” He nodded at her bandaged arm. “You conked out.”

Alex glanced down at her bandage. The sight of it brought back a flood of memories, and her stomach tightened. If only she’d gotten there sooner. Or gotten Melanie
out
sooner—

“You okay?”

She glanced up, and the intensity in his blue eyes startled her. He didn’t usually look that way. He usually looked low key. Casual. As languid as his voice. She must have scared him yesterday. Not just the hospital part, but her meltdown afterward.

“I’m not going to cry all over you, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’m not talking about that,” he said. “How do you feel?”

She shrugged. “Fine.”

But he didn’t seem convinced. She stood up. “I need to go the hospital. And I need to check myself and Melanie out of the Hyatt.”

“You need to eat.”

“Then I need to go get my cars. They’re both at the motel still.”

He stood up. “First, we eat. You can do all that after.”

She looked up at him and knew she wasn’t going to win any arguments right now. She’d save her chips for later. Something told her they’d have plenty to argue about in the coming hours, starting with the fact that he’d made no mention of any plans to leave. Nathan’s presence here—in this cozy little suite—didn’t factor into her plans right now.

He stared down at her, as if expecting her to challenge him. When she didn’t, he stroked his hands up her shoulders and turned her around to face the door.

“You’re a four, right?” He opened the door and steered her into the room.

“A what?” Her gaze landed on the rumpled bed, and she pushed away the memory of going to pieces in his arms last night.

“Size four,” he said. “I’m usually pretty good at guessing.”

She didn’t reply. He was good at guessing because he’d been married, probably.

Alex was a six, but she let him have his fantasy.

She spotted the white shopping bag beside the door. She felt his gaze on her as she walked over and picked it up, then poked through the tissue paper.

It
was
black. But it wasn’t bad, really. She held up the simple sleeveless dress made of some sort of rayon material. It buttoned up the front, and the skirt flared out a bit at the knee. Alex sighed.

“There’s some other stuff in there, too.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but the look he gave her in return was completely unapologetic.

“Thank you. I’ll pay you back,” she said, and annoyance flickered over his face.

Rather than give him a striptease, she ducked into the bathroom to change. Besides the dress, which was just a bit snug, he’d bought her some black lace panties and a matching demi-bra, size 34C. More wishful thinking. Alex dropped the bra back into the bag and decided to go without. After getting dressed, she spent a few minutes brushing her teeth and scooping her hair into a ponytail.

The room smelled like shaving cream, and for a fleeting moment she felt nostalgic. When was the last time she’d shared a bathroom with a man? She hadn’t had a serious boyfriend in… years, really. Troy didn’t count. They’d known each other a long time, but the romance had been a brief flash.

What about Nathan? This whole arrangement felt intimate, and it made her uneasy. He’d come all the way here, most likely to rescue her from the perceived dangers of her job. But then what? Was he just going to walk away? He hadn’t given her a lecture yet, but she felt like one was coming. Maybe the prospect of sex was keeping him here. She remembered his arms around her last night. They’d shared a bed for hours, and he’d simply held her. But that wasn’t going to work again tonight. Part of her didn’t want it to.

She finished up her face with some lip gloss, walked out of the bathroom, and slipped her feet into flip-flops. “Ready,” she said, picking up her purse.

The elevator ride was quiet. They cut through the lobby, and she was surprised when he led her to the front door instead of the parking lot.

“We’re walking?” she asked.

“Thought I’d show you around the Quarter.”

She squinted at the bright sunlight as they stepped onto the cobblestone sidewalk.

“Which way?”

He caught her hand in his and started walking. The air was heavy with humidity, and she could almost feel the steam rising up from the sidewalk. Maybe a dress
was
better than jeans. It was certainly cooler in this muggy climate. Nathan pulled her through the throngs of tourists with their floppy hats and fanny packs. He led her past vividly colored doorways and ornate iron gates, and she caught glimpses of lushly planted courtyards as they passed by. Many doors were flung open, and music drifted out. Alex caught snippets of zydeco, rock, a Broadway tune pounded out on a piano. Most incongruous of all were the low, pulsing thumps coming from dark doorways where neon signs advertised
GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS!

On the corner of Bourbon and Toulouse, they waited patiently as a horse-drawn carriage clomped by. Half a block farther and Nathan tugged her into an alley.

“Where…?” But her voice trailed off as she realized it wasn’t an alley, but an extremely narrow cobblestone street. He turned left, then right, then left again, seemingly oblivious to the sketchy-looking people who lurked in doorways and whose gazes followed them. Finally he reached an alley lined with potted ivies and flower boxes brimming with geraniums. A stream of people moved past them and they had to wait their turn to pass through the cast-iron gate.

A weathered wooden sign read
MCLEAN
’S.

Nathan pulled open a kelly green door and nodded for her to go ahead of him.

Inside was dim and cool, and Alex’s mouth immediately started watering. Fried shrimp. She’d recognize the smell anywhere.

Nathan didn’t wait for a hostess, but ushered her through a narrow room with tables on one side and a long wooden bar on the other. He claimed a small table at the back, right next to a raised stage. The platform was empty now, except for a microphone.

Nathan pulled out a chair for her, and Alex was about to sit down when she heard a squeal.

The next moment, a red-haired woman was beside them, and Nathan lifted her off her feet in a big hug.

“It
is
you!” She slapped his arm as he finally put her down. “Mac said you were in town!”

She turned her flushed, smiling face to Alex.

“I’m Vera.”

“Alex.”

Her attention snapped back to Nathan, who was grinning at her. “How long you here for?”

Alex looked the woman over as she and Nathan exchanged chitchat. Besides saying vaguely that he was in town “on business,” he didn’t allude to what had brought him to New Orleans.

Despite the wine red hair, Vera had to be in her sixties. From the conversation, Alex gathered she was a friend of Nathan’s family, probably his parents. Alex glanced around uneasily, suddenly wondering who else might turn up.

“What can I get you?

“Uh…” Alex glanced at Nathan.

“I’m having a beer,” he supplied.

Alex remembered her pill-induced daze earlier and ordered an iced tea.

“You okay with spicy?” Nathan asked her.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Two gumbos, then,” he told Vera. “And a baguette.”

They finally sat down at their table, and Alex looked around. The bar was dark and noisy, and Alex couldn’t believe she was sitting here in the middle of the afternoon. She checked her watch.

“Relax.”

She sighed impatiently.

“We’ll get to everything, I promise. But you need to eat first.”

The drinks came, and Alex dumped sugar in her tea as Nathan and Vera exchanged more small talk.

“She’s friendly,” Alex said when she left.

“She and my folks go way back.”

“They around, too?”

The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Why? Nervous?”

“Why should I be nervous?”

He leaned forward on his elbows. “You don’t want to meet my family. Makes you antsy just thinking about it.”

She frowned at him, and he smiled at her before taking a sip of his beer.

“My dad’s in Baton Rouge,” he said. “Has been since Hurricane Katrina. He lives with my only sister.”

“And your mother?”

“She died eleven years ago.”

Alex looked down into her tea. “I’m sorry.” She felt like a jerk. She’d been dreading the prospect of meeting the woman. “How’d she die?” she asked, and immediately regretted the question.

“Breast cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” She blamed the drugs for her sudden lack of tact. When she glanced up again, Nathan was watching her closely.

“You’re not tight with your family, are you?” he asked.

“Why do you say that?”

“You never talk about them. Seems like the whole subject makes you uncomfortable.”

“Not really.” She stirred her tea. “I just don’t have much to say, I guess. They’re pretty boring.”

He waited for her to elaborate.

“They’ve lived in the same house for twenty-five years,” she said. “Worked at the same jobs. They eat the same thing for dinner every Sunday night, right after
60 Minutes
comes on. There’s nothing to say about it.”