Gotcha! (20 page)

Read Gotcha! Online

Authors: Christie Craig

Tags: #Fiction

Reaching into the plastic bag Jake had packed for her last night, she pulled out…a pair of muddy boxers and men’s jeans. Damn. She’d grabbed the wrong bag. Glancing down at her sweats puddled on the floor, she saw the leaky shower curtain had doomed them.

Tucking her towel securely beneath her arms, she poked her head out into the hallway and listened. The sound of running water told her he’d already jumped into the other shower. She could wait and ask him to bring the clothes, or she could tempt fate and…

More of a fate tempter than a patient person, she stuck her bare feet back in her bunny slippers and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. She dashed across the adjoining study and got almost across the living room, when she heard the doorbell ring. Freezing, she tried to decide between darting back to the bathroom or running for her clothes. The sound of a key turning in the lock gave her a shot of adrenaline. She took off at a dead run toward the closest cover: the master bedroom.

She cleared the door but smacked straight into a freshly showered, naked Jake—well, naked but for the navy towel slung low around his waist. The feel of his skin against her nipples sent messages firing to her brain. The first message being that she really liked him undressed like this. The second message:
I lost my towel.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, which were flattened against his lower abdomen. His hands went to her naked hips.

“Jake?” a female voice called. Then footsteps. “Sweetheart? Did you forget our date? Oh, my!” The last two words were said in panic.

Date?

Instantly Macy realized that “sweetheart’s” date was probably staring at her naked ass. Her gaze shot to Jake’s towel, and instantly she developed a plan. Since his date had probably seen him before, Macy took what she needed—providing everyone a good look at Jake Baldwin and the full monty.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-THREE

Jake’s gaze shot to the woman standing in his hall. He realized he was standing naked, now with a hard-on, in front of—

He snagged back his towel. Unfortunately, Macy fought him for it. It became a tug-of-war between them.

“Shit!” Finally coming to his senses, he slammed the bedroom door closed. He heard Macy dash for the master bath and close herself in.

As he stared at the door, laughter bubbled up in his chest. Then, taking a deep breath, he opened the door an inch. “Mom, hold on. I’ll…be right out.”

“I’ll just leave,” his mom yelled, obviously shaken.

“Please don’t.” He knew it was best to handle this right away. The creaking of the bathroom door behind him made him turn. All he could see was Macy’s nose, which was not nearly as nice as the view he’d gotten earlier.

“Please tell me I heard that wrong. Tell me it’s not your mom who just saw me buck naked.”

A laugh escaped as he grabbed a pair of jeans. “You weren’t completely naked. You had on bunny slippers.”

Hal stared at the lunch tray and waited for Faye. Ten minutes, and he’d be calling again.

A tap came at the door. She stepped inside, carrying one of those foldable lunch boxes. She wore khaki slacks and a striped smock. Her hair wasn’t purple anymore, but a dark brown—her normal color, though missing the gray. Not that he’d minded the gray. His thick mop of hair had turned more salt than pepper a long time ago.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Hal said.

“I almost didn’t.”

He started to ask why, but suddenly keeping her around seemed more important. “What did you bring for lunch?”

She looked down as if she’d forgotten what she’d packed. “Uh…a sandwich.” Pause. “You haven’t eaten?”

“I thought I’d wait and see if we couldn’t trade.”

A tiny smile brightened her eyes. “You’re forgetting, I know how bad the food is here. Why would I trade for it?”

“Ah, but I got an ace up my sleeve.”

“An ace?”

“You like chocolate?”

“What kind?”

“The good stuff. Expensive stuff. Swiss.”

“Where would you get Swiss chocolate?” She took a step forward.

“My son works for a Swiss company. He always brings me a box.” He glanced at her lunch pack. “Let’s see if what you’ve got is worth
me
trading.”

She edged closer, bringing her baby-soft scent with her. Slowly she unloaded her lunch kit beside his covered tray. “Ham and cheese on homemade sourdough bread, low-fat baked potato chips, and…three Fig Newtons.”

“I love Fig Newtons.” He raised the top off his lunch tray to show a bowl of watery chicken soup capped with a sweating plastic top, a wilted and likely cold hamburger, and equally chill peas and carrots. “I say we split everything fifty-fifty.”

She eyed his food and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know if your chocolate is worth it.”

Carefully, so his stitches wouldn’t pull, he retrieved the box from his bedside cabinet. He set the candy beside their lunches. “Some have nuts.”

She hesitated. “Okay. But I think you’re getting the better deal.”

“You won’t after you taste this chocolate.”

She opened her sandwich and offered him half. She sat on the foot of his bed and they ate and shared small talk. Her sandwich and the chips disappeared, and they each ate a Fig Newton, leaving one cookie to accompany the untouched hospital food.

As Faye spooned a bite of soup into her mouth, tears sprang to her eyes. “I was going to tell you.”

Hal forked up a few peas. “You knew from the beginning?”

She nodded. “I’d heard you were in ICU. When they called down and asked for someone to bring up some ice chips, I…just wanted to see you.”

“Why?” He needed to know.

A tear slipped own her cheek. “The FBI said they thought Billy shot you, and I knew he’d never do that. I wanted to ask why you’d lie.”

He dropped his fork. It banged against the lunch tray. “I never said Billy shot me.”

“I found that out later.”

“He saved my life,” Hal remarked. “I told them that.”

She met his eyes. “He’s a good boy. I”—sniffle—“know he did a bad thing robbing that store, but…he’s got a lot of good in him.”

Hal picked up a box of tissues from the bedside table and passed it to her. She shook her head and reached into her pocket. “I bring my own.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear me cry. I’m trying to stop.”

“I don’t mind. I mean, I don’t like to see you sad, but I understand. I’m sure you’re worried about your son.”

She nodded. “I am. And now I’m worried about Macy.” She went on to tell about her daughter’s accident and how someone had shot through her window in the middle of the night.

“I’m sure the police are watching out for her,” Hal offered.

She nodded again. “There’s some task force working the case along with the FBI. And there’s this cop, too.” She smiled. “I think he’s sweet on Macy.”

“If she’s like her mom, I can understand why.”

Faye gazed at the food tray. “I guess we’re at the hard part. What do we do now?”

Hal inhaled, feeling slightly tongue-tied. “I know they said for you not to come, but I don’t give a damn. I wanted to ask you out, but it’s been so long since I’ve asked a woman for a date. I…don’t know if I know how to date.”

She looked surprised, and the slightest smile appeared on her lips. “I meant about the last Fig Newton.”

He grinned, feeling better than he had in months. “I told you, it’s fifty-fifty.”

Her eyes crinkled with her smile. “You don’t cut a lady a break? Not even when you’re waiting to see if she’ll go out with you?”

“Not when it involves Fig Newtons.” But when he broke the cookie in two, he offered her the bigger half. Their hands touched and he got a little jolt. It was pleasant, and he wondered if getting shot wasn’t going to turn out to be a good thing after all.

Dressed, laughter in control, Jake hurried out of the bedroom. His mom sat on his sofa.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Embarrassment colored her face.

“It’s okay.” He stood beside her.

She blinked. “When you didn’t show up for lunch, I called your office.”

Lunch? Oh!
“I forgot. I’m sorry. I had—”

“Your partner said you were at home,” his mom continued. “I thought you might be sick.” She started fumbling with her key chain. “I had your key from when I watered your plants last summer and…I never…I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Not that I’m not happy. Since you and Lisa broke up, I’ve worried. I mean, I know you loved her. But your brother never meant to hurt you, and—”

Jake held up his hand. When his mother got upset, she rattled on and on. She was midstream in a rattling that he didn’t want to hear. “It’s okay.”

“I shouldn’t have used your key.” She dropped it onto the coffee table.

He sat down next to her. She didn’t stop talking, but at least she changed directions. “That poor girl. I know she’s humiliated.”

“She’ll be okay.” The image of Macy with nothing on but her slippers filled Jake’s mind. Curvy in the right places, that tiny waist, that dark triangle of black hair….

His mom continued. “She’ll never forgive me.”

“She’ll forgive you.” Somehow he was certain Macy wouldn’t hold a grudge.

His mother looked at him. “Are you two serious?”

He hesitated. Then: “Yeah, Macy’s special.” He’d have thought admitting it out loud for the first time would feel awkward. He was wrong.

“I should apologize to her.” His mom jumped off the sofa.

Before Jake could think of a reason for her not to go storming into his bedroom, she was doing just that. He bolted after her.

“Macy?” His mom tapped on the door.

“Mom, maybe this isn’t—”

“Yes?” Macy’s weak voice answered.

“Can I come in?” his mom asked.

Silence. “I guess.” Macy sounded hesitant.

“Mom? Why don’t—”

“She said I could come in.” And his mom did just that.

Jake ran a hand through his hair, then followed her into the bedroom. Macy sat on his bed wearing her bunny slippers and the jeans and shirt he’d brought from her house. Her cheeks were flushed. Elvis sat beside her, looking skittish.

“I’m Brenda Baldwin,” his mom offered. “I wanted to apologize for storming in.”

Macy’s gaze zipped to Jake and back. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do, dear. I swear, I’m not a meddling mother. He didn’t show for lunch, so I called his work. His partner told me he was at home, and I assumed he was sick. I panicked and came to check on him. I never dreamed that he’d be, uh…busy.”

Jake bit back a moan. “We weren’t ‘busy,’ Mom. We were getting out of the shower.”

“Separate showers,” Macy added. Elvis leapt off the bed and went to hide. Macy watched the cat as if she considered following suit. “I’m not…We’re not…We don’t
do
‘busy.’”

Jake put his arm around his mom’s shoulder and tried turning her toward the door. “Let’s reschedule our lunch?”

“That’s fine. But…” She faced Macy. “You’ll be coming with Jake to his grandfather’s birthday party, won’t you?”

Jake shot his mom a look. She ignored him.

“He has invited you, hasn’t he?” she continued. “We’re planning a huge celebration.”

“Mother, I—”

“Jake, surely you’ve invited her. Haven’t you?” His mom looked at him. Macy looked at him.

“We’ll discuss this later?” Jake tried.

“What’s to discuss? I want Macy at the party. My father will be a hundred.”

Macy studied Jake. “I…work a lot, and—”

“Promise me you’ll come. It will be the only way I’ll know you’ve forgiven me.” Jake’s mother stared at Macy. “Oh, my. That’s a nasty bruise.”

Jake’s cell phone rang. He went and snagged it off the bedside table. Recognizing Mark’s number, he answered, “I’m running late. What’s up?” But his attention stayed on the two people in the room. No damn way was he taking Macy to a party to meet the woman he’d loved, who’d dumped him for his brother.

“Another break-in. In North Houston,” Mark said.

“Can you and Benton cover it?” What was his mom saying now?

“Sure, but it was tagged with red paint,” Mark said.

Jake’s focus changed. “I’ll be right there. Oh, did the other samples come back yet?”

“No,” Donaldson said. “I called. It’s likely to be another few days.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FOUR

Jake’s mother wouldn’t leave until Macy promised she would consider accompanying Jake to the birthday party. Of course, Macy would keep her promise and consider it, but no way in hell would she actually go. Especially after seeing the way Jake had reacted. It was the first time she’d seen him look afraid.

Why had he been afraid?

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t made a good impression on his mom, but did he not want her to meet his family? The thought gave Macy a little flutter in her heart. Not a big ache, it didn’t even really hurt, it was just a little…a tiny, little hiccup.

The moment his mom left, Jake rushed into apologizing for her, then apologized for having to cancel their intended breakfast. Then he started getting dressed. Macy remembered he’d received a call.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

He pulled some socks out of a drawer. “Another home robbery.” His gaze shot up. “They used red paint to tag the place.”

“Do you think it’s Tanks?”

“Could be connected.” He pulled a shirt from the closet. “Remember, Nan’s driving you to the doctor. Oh, Agent James assigned a man to follow you. He’s out front.” He shot her a serious look while he buttoned up. “Don’t do anything stupid, remember?”

“Nothing stupid,” she repeated, and recalled the information she had on Ellie.

He grabbed his cell phone, called the assigned bodyguard—one Agent Adkins, FBI—and gave the man the plan for Macy’s day.

Since when did Jake Baldwin plan her days? The man didn’t even want her to meet his family. She considered asking him about his new job description, but the kiss he gave her as soon as he hung up knocked her off track.

He grinned. “Mr. Dudley and I will miss you.”

“Right.” She waited for him to say something about the party. Not a word.

Not that it bothered her. It was his family. She had no reason to go. Didn’t want to go, really—would have turned him down if he’d asked. Besides, she had her own family to worry about. Her mind went back to Billy, to Ellie. And then to the fact she’d been shot at last night.

“Hey.” He caught her by the arm. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I…I was just thinking, maybe someone should talk to the nursing home where Ellie works. Maybe if I—”

“Stop.” He glared down at her.

“Stop what?” She glared right back up and then wondered if he’d figured out she’d read his files.

“Stop trying to put yourself in harm’s way.”

“I just want to—”

“Let us take care of this. You go to the doctor.”

He studied her, then eyed his watch. “Answer my home phone. I’ll call you here.”

Right at that moment, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out. “It’s Mark again.” He started toward the door. “Fix yourself something to eat.”

So he thought he could tell her what to do, eh?

After Jake left, Macy found the paper with the information from his file. All she wanted to do was ask a few questions. Heck, she would take the FBI with her if he’d go. And that’s when the idea hit. Macy grinned.

First she called to cancel Nan. “I’m fine,” she told her grandmother.

“Now, little lady, the doctor said—”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“It’s dangerous for you to be by yourself,” Nan insisted. “What if this Tanks—?”

“I won’t be by myself,” Macy explained. “My bodyguard will be with me the whole way.” She’d promised Jake not to do anything stupid, and, well, this wasn’t stupid. Her plan was downright brilliant.

As soon as Nan agreed and hung up, Macy dialed a rentalcar agency that delivered. Then she phoned Papa’s Pizza to order her pizzas. And while she had the manager on the phone, she informed him she’d be back to work tomorrow night. Let the FBI earn its keep and follow her. She paid her taxes. Jake wouldn’t like it, but a girl had to make a living.

Next she called her school counselor. She explained about her situation and asked if she could make up the work. Dropping those classes would cost her hundreds of dollars, hundreds she didn’t have. The counselor promised to look into it.

Her calls finished, she fed Elvis and made herself some macaroni and cheese she’d found in Jake’s pantry. It tasted like the box it came out of, but she ate it anyway.

Impatient for her rental car to arrive, she paced Jake’s apartment with his cordless phone in hand. She took everything in, trying to discern the man’s secrets.

She looked at her cat. “And we know all men have secrets. Don’t they, Elvis?”

She eyed Jake’s living room for clues. His furniture was contemporary—nothing too expensive, nothing froufrou that led her to believe a woman had pulled it together or anything like that.

She walked into his bedroom. No women’s clothes hung in the closet, no hidden panties in his drawers, which indicated two things: there was a good chance he wasn’t a cross-dresser, and he didn’t have women showing up for midnight quickies and leaving articles of clothing. Not that she would have expected it, but she really wanted to know if there was something about Jake she wasn’t seeing. It was hard to entirely trust any man. Not after Tom had lied to her.

Phone still in hand she darted to his bathroom. She had her nose in his medicine cabinet when the phone rang. Thinking it might be her rental car, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Jake’s husky voice sang in her ear. An unexpected warmth filled her chest.

“Hi.” She leaned against the bathroom counter. Was he going to ask her to the party now? She fought back hope.

“I can’t seem to get the image of you naked in bunny shoes out of my mind.” His cell phone crackled.

“I’ll bet your mom is having the same problem,” she replied. Just thinking about it made Macy’s face hot. Remembering him in his towel and out of it made things worse. She focused on the medicine cabinet. Tylenol, Band-Aids…The man didn’t even have condoms! Not that it mattered. She wasn’t planning on having sex with him.

“Did you find something to eat?” Jake asked.

“I made some macaroni and cheese. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” A long pause. “I heard on the radio that there’s a circus in town. I remembered you mentioned something about the circus last night. You never did explain that.”

Well, my granddad was going to take me to the circus, but chose to die in his plate of spaghetti instead.
“It’s nothing really,” she said. She hadn’t really wanted to go, any more than she wanted to go to Jake’s granddad’s birthday party.

“I could get us tickets if you like.”

She closed her eyes. “Nah. I hear the elephant poop stinks.”

“Okay.” A pause. “What time is your doctor’s appointment?”

“They haven’t called to give me a time.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Yes, it implied she had called them for an appointment, and that might be a stretch, but this was her brother she was stretching for.

She accidentally knocked over the Tylenol and it clattered down on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked.

Having already stretched, she went for the truth. “Searching your medicine cabinet for any STD meds.”

His laugh echoed through the line. He probably thought she was joking.

“So, am I disease free?”

“Don’t know. I haven’t finished.” She eyed the bathroom drawers.

“What else are you looking for, Pizza Girl?”

“You know…kinky stuff. Chains or whips.”

He laughed again. “Don’t look under my bed.”

“Oh, Elvis already led me to that.” She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, smiling, and with a heck of a lot of emotion in her eyes. Too much emotion.

He laughed again. “If you find I’m clean, is Tuesday on?”

“I never agreed to Tuesday!”

“But you will.”

He sounded confident. Her heart hiccupped.

Someone called his name in the background, and he said, “I’ve got to go.” Then, in a lower voice he added, “Miss you.”

He missed her? Just like that, she remembered staring out her back door and being scared to death he’d been shot. Her heart jumped.

“Be careful,” she said, realizing cop work could be dangerous, but the phone clicked silent. Had he heard her? What if he wasn’t careful?

Her worry became something akin to panic, the same kind of panic she felt about Billy. Then she realized she was getting mushy over a guy who had freaked when his mom invited her to his grandfather’s hundredth-birthday party. Not that she wanted to go.

She started out of the bathroom, stopped, turned, and went into his bedroom. She looked under the bed.

No whips.

No chains.

Not even a
Playboy
.

But while she was on her stomach, her breath making the dust bunnies quiver, she discovered something more disturbing, something waiting to be exposed. It lurked not under the bed, but within herself. Yup, she bumped noses with the truth: She wanted her brother to be okay, but she also wanted to go to the circus. She wanted Jake to ask her to his granddad’s stupid birthday party. And she wanted to say yes to Tuesday, to a relationship with him.

Donaldson waited on the porch of the latest home robbery. Jake stepped out of his car. Almost two hours had passed since he’d left his place, but he’d gotten caught in his office by Agent James with some questions about Macy’s mother and the possibility that she might be involved with the prison break. Jake just looked the man in the eyes and asked, “Have you
met
the woman?”

Only two hours he’d been gone, and he missed Macy like the devil. He’d hated leaving her, even for a little while, but the sooner he could get Tanks back behind bars and Billy safely off the streets, the sooner he could focus on just her. The vision of her naked, tugging at that towel, made a lap around his mind. Want, desire, and a smile pulled at his gut.

Jake met Mark by the door. “What’s up?”

“No one’s answering,” Mark said, and knocked again.

“Who called this in?”

“The owner,” Donaldson offered. “A Mr. Brown.”

“I’ll go around back and check?” Jake reached automatically to unstrap his gun as he headed around the side.

The gate stood ajar, broken. As Jake stepped over a piece of splintered wood, his gaze caught on graffiti. Damn, if the writing didn’t look the same as at Macy’s house. A sudden clattering sounded. Jake passed a hand over his Glock and moved toward the back.

“Mr. Brown?” he called. “It’s the police.”

Macy’s plan was working. The rental car arrived right after she’d destroyed her second tissue. The assigned agent had been hesitant when she’d appeared at his car looking weepy, bruised, and wearing bunny slippers, but chin held high, she told him she’d been called into work. Baldwin hadn’t mentioned her working, the cop claimed. “Things change,” she’d replied. “Aren’t your orders to follow me?”

His phone rang and he answered it. “Yes. Do we know for sure if it’s him? Well, let me know when you do. Do I still need to stay on Miss Tucker? Fine.” He frowned.

“What?” Macy asked when he hung up.

He didn’t appear happy to share his information, but he finally spoke. “They got a lead on Tanks. About two hundred miles from here.”

Macy hoped he was right, but finding Tanks didn’t get her closer to her brother. “So you don’t have to follow me?”

“Until I get further orders, I’m your shadow.”

So he’d followed her to her house. She’d changed into her uniform, slapped on makeup, then headed to Papa’s Pizza, where she purchased—with her employee discount, of course—six cheese pizzas. Pulling out of the parking lot, she watched to make sure he was behind her. He was. Which meant her next stop was the retirement community where Ellie Chandler worked.

“I’m not doing anything stupid, Jake,” she muttered.

Macy remembered feeling as if something wasn’t right with the information she’d read about Ellie. Maybe someone at the home could shed some light on that. Was Ellie really helping Billy, or was she in cahoots with Tanks? Macy knew her brother believed in his girlfriend, but he’d believed in the tooth fairy until he was nine. Nevertheless, Macy couldn’t help but recall Ellie’s squeaky telephone message.

I love your brother.

Jake took another step into the backyard. A clanking filled the silence. More as precaution than from instinct, he drew his Glock.

Passing the side of the house, he saw a man standing behind a junked-out Mustang held up on blocks. “Mr. Brown?”

The man turned. Jake raised his gun but didn’t point it. The man’s hands shot up in the air, clearly showing he had no weapon, but Jake didn’t miss the flash of guilt in his eyes.

“I live here,” the man spouted.

“You’re Mr. Brown?” Jake asked. “I’m with the HPD.”

“Yes. I called you guys.”

Jake lowered his gun but continued to study the man’s expression. Something just didn’t feel right.

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