Addicted to You (5 page)

“Howard Hughes is one of the greatest aviators in history. He designed this, the
Spruce Goose
. He set tons of air-speed records. You
know
him? You know Howard Hughes?”

Katie’s eyeballs crossed as she focused on the painted wooden plane an inch from her nose. She inhaled and gently put a hand on Errol’s wrist, encouraging him to lower the projectile.

“We’re a pretty distant offshoot of the family. I doubt Howard knew we existed. I don’t think I was even born yet when he died. So . . .” Katie attempted a smile at the child-man once he’d reluctantly lowered his arm and backed off a bit. “The Hercules is a favorite of yours, huh?”

“You know the
Spruce Goose
is the H-4 Hercules?” Errol shook his head, his dazed expression assuring Katie he was in the midst of ecstasy. He turned toward an amused-looking Sherona. “She
knows
the
Spruce Goose
is the H-4 Hercules.”

“I see that, but Ms. Hughes is going to eat her dinner now,” Sherona replied. There was a clinking of china and the rattle of cutlery. “If you’re done eating yours, you run on, now, Errol. You know what I told you about hovering around people when they eat.”

“Yeah, okay.” Errol backed away, his brown eyes still glued to Katie. “You probably know the
Spruce Goose
is the Hercules because you’re related to Howard Hughes.”

Katie picked up the ketchup bottle on the counter and shook it, inhaling the delicious aromas wafting up from the grill. In her cross-country trek from Los Angeles to Vulture’s Canyon she’d eaten some truly disgusting meals, but the Legion Diner smelled promising.

“Actually, I know about it for the same reason a lot of elementary school kids in Southern California know it. We took a field trip to Long Beach to see the
Spruce Goose
.” She paused in shaking the ketchup bottle when she noticed Errol vibrated where he stood.

“You
saw
the
Spruce Goose
?”

Katie glanced at Sherona uncertainly. “Well . . . yeah.”

It apparently was the wrong thing to say. Errol abruptly charged out of the diner like a startled cat. Katie stared after him, her jaw hanging open.

“Don’t worry,” Sherona said when she noticed Katie’s shellshocked expression. “His father used to be an air force pilot, and Errol learned his love of airplanes from him. They used to assemble the models together. Poor man passed away when Errol was so little, he had no way of knowing his son was born with a brain that would make him obsess about planes to the exclusion of everything else in life, including basic self-care and hygiene.” Sherona sighed and turned to pull the onion rings out of the fryer. A minute later, she efficiently slid Katie’s plate onto the counter. Katie remained in the same position when Sherona returned with a frosty milk shake. Sherona must have noticed her bemused expression.

“Well, go on. Eat your food. Errol won’t hurt you. I thought they had plenty of different people in California. Why should it surprise you to find someone like Errol in Vulture’s Canyon?”

Katie flushed. “I’m not surprised,” she mumbled. She was feeling pretty fed up with Sherona Legion and her weird diner before she took a bite of her hamburger and groaned in ecstasy.

For a burger like this, she could forgive Sherona murder.

Just as she was scraping her last onion ring through the remains of the ketchup on her plate, the diner door opened. Katie glanced over, wondering if Errol had returned. She did a double take at the man who entered. He walked up to the bar and flashed her a grin, highlighting a dimple in his right cheek. His face was deeply tanned and his light brown hair was cut in a short, John Kennedy–esque fashion, the bangs combed back in a thick wave. His expensivelooking casual clothing gave Katie the impression he’d just left the golf course. It was a little strange to try to picture the manicured lawns of golf in the midst of this wild forest, almost as strange as imagining this man as a resident of Vulture’s Canyon.

“You wouldn’t be the owner of that beautiful car, would you?” he asked.

Katie couldn’t help but glance back at Monty. Sure enough, the older man was scowling at her over the edge of his newspaper. He flipped it back up, covering his face, but Katie sensed him listening like a hawk.

“I’m Miles. Miles Fordham,” the man said before Katie had a chance to reply.

“Katie Hughes.”

“What can I get you, Miles?” Sherona asked, her tone brisk, but polite enough. Miles Fordham didn’t look like the type that a business owner would choose to insult. Sherona sure didn’t seem to be too in love with the guy, though, Katie observed.

Fordham glanced down at Katie’s plate. His gaze transferred quickly enough to her body, however. Katie did a mental eye roll as he cased her out from boot to eyelash. “I’ll have what Katie had. She looks like she enjoyed it, and whatever it was, it sure is sitting well on her. May I ask what brings you to our quaint little town, Katie?”

“Rill Pierce,” she replied matter-of-factly after she’d washed down her onion ring with a swallow of her milk shake.

Saying Rill’s name caused a wave of regret and mortification to sweep through her. For a few seconds, the memory of what had happened up at the Mitchell place seemed too bizarre to be a reality. The trip into town, the unfamiliar environment and the strange people had the effect of turning her earlier visit to Rill’s into a dream.

The tenderness between her thighs told her different. She dug in her purse and pulled out a scarf, which she defiantly wrapped around herself, hiding her breasts from Miles’s gaze.

She held up ten- and five-dollar bills. “Will that cover it, Sherona?”

“Just the ten’ll do. I’ll get your change,” Sherona replied.

“Don’t bother,” Katie said as she laid the bills on the counter. “It was worth every penny. Well . . . be seeing you.”

“Wait. You’re not going so quickly, are you?” Miles asked with a laugh. “I haven’t had the chance to ask you to the club while you’re visiting Vulture’s Canyon.”

“Club?” Katie asked as she got off the barstool.

“The Forest River Golf Club and Marina. It’s right on the Ohio River. I’ve been trying to get Rill to stop by for ages now.”

“Rill hates golf,” Katie said with a smile as she passed. “He’s more the rugby or American football type.”

Miles turned and started to follow her to the door.
Tenacious bastard,
Katie thought with a trace of exasperation. He was a nice-looking guy, but Katie’s head was too filled with Rill at that moment—Rill slowly poisoning himself to death with whiskey; Rill touching her, kissing her . . . claiming her. She couldn’t attend to another man’s advances at the moment.

“The Forest River Club is about much more than golf. The Shawnee National Forest is truly God’s country. We have a worldclass restaurant, the marina, areas for rock climbing, camping and rappelling, plus some stunning trails, both for hiking and horseback riding.”

Katie was about to tell him to send her a brochure when he continued.

“We’re right on the verge of getting a gambling license from the State of Illinois for a boat on the Ohio River.”

Monty slapped his paper down on the table in front of him so hard Katie thought he’d swatted at a fly.

“Marcus . . . calm down,” Sherona warned in a low voice from behind the counter when the muscular guy wearing the camo pants suddenly stormed toward them. For an anxious second, Katie thought he was going to eviscerate Miles Fordham with some kind of bowie knife secreted in his pants, the way he was glaring at him. She exhaled shakily when Marcus stormed out of the diner instead, loudly rattling the bells over the door with his departure.

Lovely choice of town, Rill,
she thought.

Obviously, the prospect of a casino on the Ohio River near Vulture’s Canyon wasn’t a popular topic for some residents.

Not any of my business,
Katie thought. She gave a ruffledlooking Miles a look that was half apologetic, half “well, that’s my cue to be on my way.”

“I better get back to Rill. He’ll wonder what’s keeping me. Nice meeting you all,” Katie said before she dashed out the door.

She plunged into the humid night. When she’d driven down the hill from Rill’s place, she’d grown used to the darkness. But coming out of the bright diner onto a street that was lit only by two distant, dim streetlights made her blink in slight disorientation.

She didn’t glance back at the diner as she started up her car and whipped around in a U-turn, but she had the impression she was being watched through the windows.

She hit something just in front of her right-hand wheel.

Thunk.

Katie yelped and broke hard when she caught sight of Errol’s pale face going down in her headlights.

Three

At eleven fifteen the following morning Rill awoke to the im-
pression his cell phone ringer was burrowing like a twisting screw through his right temple. It made no sense, of course, because a sound couldn’t possibly pierce skin and bone. It sure as hell felt like it could, though. After a blessed moment of silence it began to burble again.

He didn’t have Internet up here on this remote hillside, but if he did, he’d download a funeral dirge to replace that frickin’ cheerful ringtone.

He poked his hand around on the bedside table, trying to locate the obnoxious object. His arm was cocked back to hurl the phone against the wall when he blinked and brought the name of the caller into focus.

He hit the receive button.

“Katie?” he demanded roughly. The inside of his mouth felt like he’d gargled with ooze from a toxic spill.

“Rill! It’s about time you answered the phone. You’ve got to get down here right away.”

He sat up in bed, alarmed. Katie Hughes didn’t get riled easily. “What do you mean I’ve got to get down there? Down
where
? What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got to come down here to the hospital.”

“
Jaysus
. The hospital? Who’s hurt?” Rill demanded, now fully alert. Katie sounded okay. Who could be sick? Everett? Stanley or Meg Hughes, Katie’s parents? Had there been an accident?

“It’s Errol. I hit him with my car. Several ligaments in his right knee were torn or strained.”

Rill swung his legs over the side of the bed and groaned when a wave of nausea struck him. Christ, just how shit-faced had he gotten last night? He fuzzily recalled watching a movie on one of the local networks last night—What had it been?
The Shining
? He recalled a crazed Jack Nicholson saying his famous line—“Here’s Johnny”—but everything was black after that.

And what the hell was Katie talking about?

“Who’s Errol?”

“Errol Banks. The guy who carries around the model airplanes and lives in a shack down by the river?”

Rill’s eyes crossed. For some reason, Katie Hughes, who was one of his closet friends from his life in California, was talking about Errol, a resident of his new life—such as it was—in Vulture’s Canyon.

Errol was the mentally disabled guy who wandered around rambling about airplanes.

Rill must still be drunk.

“Where are you, Katie?”

“At Prairie Lakes Hospital.”

He abruptly stopped rubbing his burning eyes. “Prairie Lakes . . .
Illinois
?”

“Yes, I’m here, just a few miles away.”

“What do you mean, you’re here?” Rill barked.

“I’m here. In southern Illinois,” she said slowly and loudly, as if she thought she was talking to a hyperactive three-year-old. “I drove here to see you. And I hit Errol Banks on Main Street in downtown Vulture’s Canyon and injured him. They had to do outpatient surgery on his knee early this morning. You’ve got to get down here right away, Rill. Errol has been cleared to go, but I have to pay for his treatment, so bring your checkbook. They won’t take a credit card from me, and apparently the one ATM in the hospital is busted. I can’t find another one in this little town. I’ve got to pay the bill before they let us go and I don’t have enough cash or a checkbook.”

Rill stood, scowling when he realized he wasn’t wearing any pants.

Jaysus. Katie Hughes. Everett’s little sister. Gorgeous, smartmouthed, vibrant Katie.

Katie
in a crisis.

It was like inviting a cache of fresh dynamite into a slowly burning house.

Just what he needed right now.

“Okay. Okay, I’m coming,” he mumbled. He staggered into the hallway, not entirely sure if he was awake or sleeping. The nailing pain in his right brow seemed too real to be a dream, however. “But, Katie?”

“Yeah?” He heard the tremble in her voice and pulled up short in the middle of the hallway.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why the hell else would I be in this godforsaken place, Rill Pierce? I came to save you.”

There was a short pause. He heard her sigh and suddenly saw her clear as day in his mind’s eye, the vivid green eyes, the wild tumble of golden ringlets and waves. He’d directed Katie’s brother, Everett Hughes, in six of his films. It’d always fascinated him how Everett and Katie shared a face, and yet the impressions of the two were polar opposites. Everett epitomized male good looks, while similar features on Katie comprised the essence of vibrant feminine beauty.