Read Cold Hearts Online

Authors: Sharon Sala

Cold Hearts (12 page)

 

It was noon when Louis left the ER with a half dozen staples in his forehead, butterfly bandages on the smaller cuts on his face and wads of gauze stuffed up his nose. His clothing was mostly dry, and he didn’t have a concussion or any broken bones, thanks to the fact that the water-soaked ceiling tiles had come apart in soggy pieces on impact. If it hadn’t been for the metal grid holding them, which had also fallen, he would have been fine.

However, one eye was swollen shut, and his lips were so puffy it hurt to talk. The bruising on his face was going to be spectacular by tomorrow, the doctor had told him. Louis wasn’t quite sure how to take that, but he was very glad tomorrow was Saturday. By the time Monday rolled around, he planned to be back at work. No way was he going to be stuck at home with his mother and Reece for days on end. The weekend would be enough.

An orderly going off duty had offered to drive him home, but Louis asked to be taken back to the school parking lot instead. He needed his truck to go get Mama.

“Man, are you sure you’re fit to drive?” the orderly asked as he pulled up behind Louis’s truck.

“I can walk and talk and I can see. I can drive myself home,” Louis said.

Reece was asleep when Louis walked into the house. It felt strange to be back this time of day. Bobo trotted out to meet him and licked the toe of his work shoe as Louis paused in the hall. When he didn’t hear any movement, he went into the kitchen.

He’d missed eating breakfast at school, and he’d missed lunch, which was also at school. Even though he hurt, he knew he needed to eat something or the pain meds they’d given him would make him sick.

He was prowling through the refrigerator for something easy when his phone signaled a text. It was from the principal, Mr. Wilson, asking if he was okay and if he needed anything.

Louis was touched that his boss had been concerned enough to check on him and sent a quick text back.

I’m okay. Don’t need anything.

 

Bobo whined once as he sniffed at him again. Louis guessed he smelled funny. The hospital had used all kinds of antiseptic stuff on him.

“Yes, it’s still me, Bobo. I just hurt. Do you want out?”

Bobo trotted toward the door.

As soon as the dog was outside, Louis opted for something soft and got a leftover bowl of macaroni and cheese, nuked it in the microwave, then sat down at the table with a fork and ate it. When he’d had enough to satisfy the gripe in his belly, he put it back in the refrigerator. He didn’t feel like going to the store or doing anything fancy for his mother’s visit, so he let the dog in, set the alarm to wake himself up in plenty of time to go pick her up and then went to bed.

It felt strange to be going to bed this early, but he was beginning to ache in every muscle and he wanted to cry. Instead, he pulled up the covers and closed his eyes. Because of the gauze in his nostrils he was going to have to sleep with his mouth open, which would make him snore.

It was not the best day of his life.

* * *

 

Lissa was sitting cross-legged in the chair near Mack’s bed. He talked in his sleep, either from the pain meds or it was a habit she’d known nothing about, but she had heard enough to know he was dreaming, and in the dreams he was young. He kept mumbling his mother’s name and telling her he’d fed the puppy. He muttered something about going to his grandparents’ house, and then moaned and settled again. He woke briefly and told her that he loved her, and then drifted back to sleep.

She couldn’t stop his pain, and she couldn’t change the ten years they’d lost, but there was one thing she could do that would mean something to him.

She sent a text to her friend Margaret and then waited. About a half hour later Margaret texted that she was in the second-floor waiting room. Lissa went out to meet her, and her friend greeted her with a tote bag and a smile.

“I am so sorry this happened,” Margaret said as she gave Lissa a big hug. “I wish you’d told me about being stalked. I have three really big brothers who don’t take well to men abusing women in any way.”

“If I’d known about the brothers I sure might have,” Lissa said. “Did you find everything?”

Margaret handed her the tote bag.

“Everything, and now I’m going to impose on our friendship and worry about you. What are you going to do when you go home? I can recommend a man who installs security systems.”

“I can’t go home until the stalker is caught, and the truth is, I dread going back even when I can.”

“Why?” Margaret said. “I thought you loved living in the house where you grew up.”

Lissa thought again of her parents’ betrayal.

“In the past few days, a lot of things have changed my opinion of home. And there’s the fact that the stalker did a lot of damage, like a broken window in the back door, broken glass and Mack’s blood all over the kitchen floor. They dusted for fingerprints, so there’s no telling how much dirt that left, too. And there’s my bedroom. He tore it to pieces.”

“Melissa! I’m so sorry. Will you let us help? Everyone from school is upset on your behalf. If it’s okay with the police, will you let us clean up the house for you?”

“Oh, Margaret, no! It’s a horrible mess.”

“We don’t mind messes, girl. We deal with puke and germs on a daily basis, remember? And since teachers’ salaries are less than they should be, cleaning up costs nothing to us but time. It’s the perfect way for us to give back.”

Lissa heard the sincerity in Margaret’s voice and didn’t want to deny her friends the right to help. “Then, I accept with gratitude,” she said, and dug her house key out of her purse. “Check with Chief Jakes, and if it’s okay with him, then it’s okay with me, too.”

“Great!” Margaret said. Then she glanced at her watch and jumped to her feet. “I need to go. Gotta pick my girls up from basketball practice. I’ll get your key back to you soon.”

Lissa walked Margaret back to the elevator. “Thanks again for getting this stuff for me,” she said, holding up the tote bag.

Margaret smiled. “Can’t wait to meet that man,” she said, and then the smile faded. “I’m so sorry about his father. I can’t imagine what he must be feeling.” Then the elevator arrived, and with one last wave, Margaret was gone.

Lissa took the tote bag back to Mack’s room. Since he was still asleep, she slipped into the chair by his bed and began digging through the bag, hoping she wasn’t wrong about her surprise. She just wanted to be at peace with the only man she’d ever loved. She wondered where the future would take them.

And then his doctor walked in. “Good afternoon, Melissa. How is our patient today?”

Mack began to rouse as he heard the doctor’s voice, and before Lissa could speak, Mack answered for himself. “He’s appreciative of being put back together,” he said, which made the doctor laugh.

Lissa leaned back in the chair, listening to the doctor question Mack, watching the expressions come and go on Mack’s face as he answered, and all the while she kept thinking how close he’d come to dying.

“Have you been up yet?” the doctor asked.

“Once, to walk to the bathroom,” Mack said.

“That’s good. If you continue to progress without any other issues, you can go home in the morning, provided you have someone who’ll be with you.”

“I will,” Lissa said.

“Yes, I’ll have my partner with me,” Mack said.

The doctor grinned.

“And a fine-looking partner she is. I’ll have written instructions for your care until you come back to get the staples out. In the meantime, move around as much as you feel like, but no lifting. Not anything more than a fork to your mouth, understood?”

Mack nodded. “Understood.”

The doctor left, and once again they were alone.

“Come sit beside me,” Mack said, patting the side of his bed. “I keep having this need to touch you to remind myself this isn’t a dream.”

Lissa understood. It was surreal to accept being back together after so many years apart. She lowered the bed rail, then scooted onto the side away from the IV and reached for his hand. His palm was warm and his grip was firm, and when he gave her hand a quick tug, she looked up.

“What?”

“When I leave here we’ll go back to Dad’s house until after the memorial service, which I have yet to schedule.”

“Maybe by then they’ll have caught my stalker, and I can go back to my house and back to work,” she said.

“I don’t want to be apart from you again,” Mack said.

Lissa’s eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“We lost ten years. I have no allegiance to anyone. In my heart, you’re still my Melissa, just older and prettier. Could we maybe agree to pick up where we left off, and fill in the blanks of what we’ve missed as we go?”

“Oh, Mack.” She leaned forward, very carefully centering her lips on his mouth and closed her eyes.

She heard him groan as she stifled a sob.

It felt the same. The spark between them was immediate. His lips were firm, and she yielded to the hunger when he put a hand behind her head and held her close to lengthen the kiss. When it ended, his eyes were glistening and she couldn’t catch a good breath for the lump in her throat.

“So...?”

Lissa sighed. “Except for the fact that you’re older and prettier, too, I don’t see one reason why we can’t make that happen. We’ll just have to figure out the logistics because I have to finish out my contract here in Mystic.”

“I understand, and if you want to work after we’re married maybe you could teach in Summerton, although it’s strictly up to you. I have a house waiting for a woman to make it a home, and I make plenty of money if you don’t want to work.”

She shivered, absorbing the love she heard in his voice. “This feels like the end of a nightmare,” she said.

“And a new beginning for us. This is where we were when everything came undone, except then we were broke.”

She laughed. “We were sure that, weren’t we?”

Mack brushed a thumb across the little mole by her mouth and then eased himself into a more comfortable position.

“And just so you know, when we go back to Dad’s house, I’m hiring private security. You won’t know they’re there, and if the stalker is still hunting, hopefully he won’t, either, until it’s too late.”

She frowned. “But that will cost a lot of money, and it’s not fair to you to pay—”

“Hey!”

She stopped talking for a moment, then asked, “What?”

“Two things. Don’t worry about money. We’re good on that score. And don’t forget I have a bone to pick with him, too. I take it personally when someone tries to kill me. Besides, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make babies and grow old with you, so we need this guy behind bars.”

It was the mention of babies that healed the last ache in her heart. Tears rolled.

Mack groaned. “Don’t cry.”

“Happy tears. Only happy tears,” she said.

Eleven

 

L
ouis’s alarm was going off, but he was having a hard time waking up. Finally it was Reece yelling in his ear that did the trick. He opened his eyes just as Reece disappeared, cursing beneath his breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t bother to ask what happened to me!” Louis shouted. “I just nearly died today, that’s all!”

He threw back the covers and then groaned when he began to move. Every muscle in his body hurt, and as he made his way to the bathroom, he thought too late that he should have put an ice pack on his face before he went to sleep. It might have helped the swelling.

Bobo followed him into the bathroom, then stood with his little ears up, intently watching everything Louis was doing.

“Bobo, I’m going to the bus station to get Mama, so you better be good when we get back, okay?”

The dog snuffed and plopped down on a throw rug in the hall as Louis went to his room to get a jacket and then struggled putting it on. By the time he was ready to leave, he was sweating from the pain and wondering if he should think about suing the school district. If he got a big enough settlement he could quit work, and he and Reece and Mama could move to Florida. It was in the back of his mind as he went out the door and got in the truck.

His phone signaled another text just as he started the engine. It was from Mama.

I’m here.

 

He sent a text back.

On the way.

* * *

 

Pinky Parsons had gotten through life on her looks, and when they’d begun to fade, she’d utilized the fact that she could give a man a satisfactory blow job in less than two minutes flat. And then she’d lost her front teeth one winter when she’d slipped on ice and fallen face-first onto the steps leading into her apartment, and she’d been without the money to fix them. After that, blow jobs had become harder to come by. It seemed to creep men out that she was missing all four front teeth, although she didn’t know why. It should have been a reassuring fact, but there was no accounting for men’s tastes.

Now it was her age and her dental problems that had driven her to make this move, and she was not happy about having to come here. The fact that the dog was still around made her even more unhappy.

She was sitting on a bench near the door, watching for her ride while keeping an eye on her things, when she saw a pickup pull up out front. She scooted closer to the edge of her seat, but when she saw the driver get out and close the door, she gasped, and when he walked inside the terminal the first words out of her mouth were “What the fuck happened to you?”

Louis winced. “Had an accident at work today. Are those your things?”

Pinky sighed. “Louis? That
is
you, isn’t it?”

Louis frowned and then winced from the pain.

“After all these years you still can’t tell me and Reece apart.”

She sputtered a bit, but seeing the condition he was in, she grabbed her own bags and started out the door. “Well, you can’t blame me for not knowing. I mean, your face looks like shit.”

“Yeah, well, his does, too,” Louis said, not bothering to help her.

Pinky slung her bags into the truck bed and then glanced at her son again as she got in, feeling bad she’d been so rude. “I’m sorry you got hurt. What happened?”

He started the engine. “Ceiling fell in on me at school.”

Pinky frowned. “Well, my goodness, son. That’s just awful. Want me to drive?”

“Do you have a license?” he asked.

“No, but—”

“Then, never mind,” he said, and drove away.

Pinky sighed and tried to start over. “So, where’s Reece?”

“Asleep.”

She frowned again.

Louis felt the need to explain. “These days he’s only awake at night. That’s when he does his stock market stuff.”

She rode in silence for a few moments, digesting how that might affect her situation.

“I can’t believe that damn dog is still around. Shit. I do not like that little mutt.”

“It doesn’t matter what you like, Mama. It’s his home, not yours, and if anything happens to Bobo, something might happen to you. Reece is a little crazy now.”

Pinky gasped and then laughed, certain that was meant as a joke, but when Louis didn’t join in, she suddenly shivered. It might have been a mistake to come here. She had to think of something to change the atmosphere or she would never be able to go in the house.

“So you said something happened to Reece’s face, too?”

“Yes, and you’re not gonna like it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s at it again, Mama.”

The knot in Pinky’s stomach suddenly got tighter. “What do you mean?”

“He’s been stalking another woman. He broke into her house and fought with some man. His face is all messed up, and he said he stabbed the man and thinks he might have killed him.”

Pinky screamed and then clasped her hands over her mouth, staring at Louis in disbelief.

“Oh, my God! What did I do to deserve this? How did I give birth to such a monster?”

Louis was somewhat mollified by the fact that for once Mama was more pissed at Reece than she was at him.

“Well, we’re home,” he said, as he pulled up to the little house and parked.

He got out, unlocked the door and went in without offering to help her. The way he looked at it, she’d invited herself here. The sooner she figured out it wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, the sooner she would leave.

Pinky’s hands were shaking as she struggled to get her bags out of the truck bed. Right now, she had nowhere else to go but here, but she wasn’t going to waste time before beginning to look for another way out of the predicament she was in.

She dragged her bags into the house, and then shut the door and looked around. It wasn’t as messy as she’d expected. She saw the little terrier eyeing her from the throw rug and then looked away. Even the dog didn’t want her here.

“Louis!”

He walked out of the kitchen. “What?”

“Where do I sleep?”

He pointed to the sofa.

“You mean you—”

“Unless you want to sleep with Reece.”

“A woman needs her privacy,” she muttered.

“Reece has money. Tell him to rent you an apartment in town,” he said as he walked back into the kitchen.

Pinky’s eyes lit up as she followed him. “Reece has money? More money than you?”

Louis looked down as he began measuring coffee into the coffeemaker.

“Yes. He makes a lot of money with his stocks. He’s very good at short sales and futurities.”

She thought of the dumps she’d been living in for the past five years and started to get mad, then thought better of it.

“So you think you might talk to Reece and tell him I need a place of my own?”

Louis shook his head. “Reece doesn’t listen to me. He never did. You know that.”

Pinky sighed. “Come on, Louis, you know you—”

“No, Mama! Don’t say it!”

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask Reece myself. When did you say I might expect to see him?”

“He wakes up at night, after I go to bed.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to him tonight.” Then she saw the pain in Louis’s face and felt bad again. “Is there anything I can do? I’ll make supper if you want to go rest or something.”

Louis shrugged. He did want to lie down. He felt like shit.

“I guess you can,” he said. “I don’t feel so good.”

“I’ll bet you don’t,” Pinky said. She headed for the refrigerator. “What do you want me to make?”

“Whatever you can find. There’s not much here. I was going to go get groceries and then I got hurt. I’ll go tomorrow.”

“We’ll make do,” she said. “It’ll be like old times. Mama will find a way to make a yummy meal out of bits and pieces. Remember bits and pieces?” she asked.

Louis was still looking at the floor. “Was that before Daddy hanged himself, or afterward?”

The smile on Pinky’s face froze as Louis walked out of the room.

* * *

 

Trey pulled up to his mother’s house, then sat for a few moments gathering his thoughts. With the revelation about Paul’s murder and the letter from the safety deposit box, it was no longer possible to let his mother off the hook about answering questions. It was his opinion that her life was in danger. Whatever she remembered, no matter how vague, he needed to know, and he was counting on her being more receptive to answering his questions than having someone else interview her for him.

He picked up the video recorder as he got out of the cruiser, noticing as he headed toward the house that Trina was home. He frowned. She didn’t usually get off until 4:00 p.m. He hoped nothing had happened to their mom to prompt her early return.

He was on the porch and about to walk in when he remembered the security system and knocked instead.

A few moments later his mother opened the door, which triggered a bell-like sound. It wasn’t the alarm indicating a break-in but a warning to let her know the front door had been opened.

“So are you getting used to the security system?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m making pie,” she said as she headed back to the kitchen.

“Why is Trina home? Is she sick?”

Betsy picked up the rolling pin and continued to roll out the pie dough as she talked.

“As I understand it, she and Lee had a horrible fight and broke up. I don’t know what prompted it. I don’t know what to say to her other than I’m so sorry. She has to cry herself out. It’s sad. That’s all.”

Trey sighed. He knew all too well how it felt to be without the person you loved. Thank God he and Dallas were back together.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I like Lee. I wonder what happened.”

“It doesn’t really matter what happened when you’re grieving the loss,” she said. Then she deftly transferred the piecrust to the fruit-filled pie plate beside her and began crimping the edges of the crusts to keep the juices from bubbling over into the oven.

“I guess you’re right about that,” Trey said, gauging the expression on her face against why he’d come. “Are you nearly finished?” he asked.

She nodded. “After your last phone call, I suppose you’re here on official business.”

“Yes.”

She slid the pie into the oven, washed her hands and then sat down at the table. “Okay, I’m ready for questioning.”

Trey sighed. “Mom, it’s—”

She slapped the flat of her hand on the table.

“I know what it is. Just get it over with,” she snapped, shoving the gray curls away from her face.

He tried not to take her anger personally and turned on the recorder as he sat, identifying himself for the recording, stating the date and time and the name of the person being interviewed. Then he pulled out a notebook with questions he’d prepared earlier.

“What link do you have to Dick Phillips and Paul Jackson?”

Her right eye twitched, but her voice was calm when she answered, “We went to high school together. I dated Paul Jackson, and we were all in a wreck together the night of our graduation.”

“Did anything happen prior to the wreck that would make you think your lives would be in danger?”

“No.”

“Did anything happen the night of the wreck that would lead you to believe your lives were in danger?”

“I don’t know. None of us remembered anything from that night once we left Mystic after graduation.”

“And why was that?”

“Well, we were told we were drunk. And we all had severe head injuries from the wreck. It was a miracle we didn’t all die like our friend Connie, who was driving.”

“Have any of your memories returned since Dick’s and Paul’s deaths?”

She hesitated, then looked past his shoulder to the wall behind him.

“I’ve had dreams. I have no way of knowing what they mean, or
if
they mean anything at all.”

Trey reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag containing the bloodstained tassel.

“Does this look familiar to you?”

She looked closer, saw the date on the tiny medal attached and then shuddered.

“It appears to be a tassel from the mortarboard of someone from our graduating class.”

“The stains on this tassel were tested. They’re blood.”

Her eyes widened. “So that brown stuff on the tassel is blood?”

“Yes,” Trey said. “Does it look familiar to you?”

“I have no memory of seeing it,” she said. She started crying. “Where did it come from?”

He got up to get a box of tissues from the sideboard and shoved it toward her, then sat back down.

“The medical personnel found it on Paul’s body when he was unconscious after the wreck. Do you have any idea why Paul Jackson would have it when he stated later that it wasn’t his?”

“No.”

“Paul said he thought he remembered seeing a body on the ground. Do you remember anything like that?”

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