Restore My Heart (35 page)

“What do you want to bet Lucinda is baking something to take to Barbara Bloom’s tonight? To express her condolences and concern? Come on. It’s customary.”

“You want to go to the Blooms’ house tonight?”

“Bingo. After all, Lucinda can’t leave Grandma, right?”

Damn.

Sally’d been right, of course. His mother, true to form, had baked a turkey breast and two loaves of sandwich bread. She’d not seemed the least surprised when Joe offered to deliver the food to Barbara Bloom. He also delivered a fruit salad and potato salad he and Sally picked up at the deli.

He’d driven to the address his mother had given him, in an older neighborhood off Taylorsville Road. Most of the houses were built in the fifties, including the Blooms’ modest ranch. Two picture windows draped with layers of sheer curtains abutted each other at the living room corner. Although little about the building or fixtures had been updated, the modern furniture blended comfortably, giving the house a pleasant coziness.

“Thank you for coming.” Barbara Bloom collapsed into an overstuffed chair in the living room after ushering her other visitors to the door. Only Joe and Sally remained.

“Mom will be by tomorrow. She has her hands full with Grandma tonight.”

Barbara’s makeup failed to cover the strain in her face. “Thank her for the food. I-I didn’t expect so many people to—” Her eyes filled.

“Are you going to be all right by yourself? I could stay with you tonight,” Sally offered.

Joe studied Sally. She knew Barbara only as a business contact, yet seemed genuinely worried about her. How could he have thought Sally devious? She had a generous heart, a tender heart. He’d been right in tamping down any romantic notions. She’d be easy to hurt when he left. And he was leaving. Friday.

Barbara shook her head. “That’s sweet of you, but I need to be by myself.”

“You’ve had a shock. Do you have someone close you can call?”

Nodding, Barbara pulled a tissue from a box beside her chair. She dabbed away tears and eye makeup. “My son.”

Joe gasped. “Your
son?
I thought—”

“Vic didn’t know.” She shrugged, then blew her nose. “I gave my baby up for adoption when I was fifteen. Even though I’d been raped, my parents kept my pregnancy a secret. They sent me away. Imagine finding my son right here in Louisville.”

“Why the secrecy?” Sally asked.

“His adoptive parents are insecure. They’re in their seventies and not in good health. He doesn’t want them upset.”

“They didn’t tell him he was adopted?”

“Yes. But even though he’s older than you, Joey, when he wanted to find me, they didn’t approve. Also, I hadn’t told Vic. So we’ve kept things low key.”

“So why are you telling us about him now?” Joe asked.

“Because he’s all I have now. And I’m not hiding anymore.”

“Is he married?” Sally asked. “Do you have grandchildren?”

“He’s engaged to be married. I’m invited to the wedding, but—”

“Not as mother of the groom, right?”

She nodded at Sally. “It’s okay. I gave up all my rights when I was fifteen.”

Later, as Joe backed out of the Blooms’ driveway, he asked, “What had you hoped to accomplish coming here tonight?”

Sally stretched out her legs, then massaged her knee. “I wanted to gauge her reaction to Vic’s death.”

“She’s still pretty broken up about it.”

“At least she doesn’t think you had anything to do with it.”

“No, she knows I’m no killer. But we’re no closer to getting any evidence.”

“We did learn one thing, but isn’t it sad? She’s had to hide her son. That’s way dumb.”

“If he’s older than I am, he should know better. Surely he doesn’t hold it against her that she gave him up for adoption.”

“If his adoptive parents are jealous and insecure, they probably raised him to be, too.”

“Good point.” Joe sighed. “I’m beginning to understand Barbara better. She’s had some tough breaks.” No wonder she’d seemed bitter when he’d talked to her last week.

“Raped at fifteen and treated like the guilty party, then having to give up her firstborn— “

“Only
born. Mom seems to think Barbara lost her ability to have children—other children—from something that happened in her teens.”

“Probably a delivery gone bad. Oh, bless her heart! And now her husband’s been murdered.”

“At least she’s been reunited with her son.”

“Some son,” she snorted. “He treats her as shabbily as her parents did. Once again, Barbara is made to feel ashamed.”

“You’re right.” Sally should know. When it came to shabby treatment, her father took first prize in Joe’s book.

As Joe braked at the main road to the subdivision, he nearly collided with a pickup truck as it clipped the corner. The Dodge’s headlights illuminated the dark paint job and the bright aluminum tool box. Hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “That truck looks familiar.”

“A Toyota Tacoma. What about it?”

“Let’s hope he didn’t see us. I’m going to follow him.”

Taking her silence as concurrence, he found a driveway in which to turn around, then sped after the truck.

“Joe, give him some room. You don’t want to be obvious.”

“I’m afraid I’ll lose him.”

She leaned forward and squinted. “No, you won’t. Look. It’s turning into Barbara’s driveway.”

“See that funny toolbox on the back?” Joe idled past the house toward the street’s dead end.

“What about it, other than the fact it’s the wrong size for that particular truck?”

“It’s odd.” And memorable. “I remember where I’ve seen one just like it.”

“Where, for heaven’s sake?”

“Speeding down Watterson Trail, headed straight for you.”

Sally gasped. “Are you sure?”

“Fairly sure. It happened so fast, I didn’t think I noticed. But the funny way the toolbox rests on the back must’ve registered.”

“Then what’s it doing here? Oh, Joe! You don’t think Barbara—”

“What I think is we need to park this thing and do some snooping. Coming here may pay off after all.”

After parking in the paved turn-around, Joe helped Sally from the car. His arm around her waist, he pulled her against him, supporting much of her weight. She didn’t resist. Now wasn’t the time to be macho. Or
macha
. The two blocks seemed farther because of their slower pace. When they neared the Blooms’ yard, Joe motioned her to the side yard.

They crouched behind overgrown privet, watching Barbara and her visitor. A forty-something man, he would’ve been attractive to some women. To Sally, however, he looked slick, lacking that air of sincerity that kept handsome Joe Desalvo from arrogance. Through the filter of a thin gauze curtain, she sensed intimacy between the two. The low murmur of their voices penetrated the glass windows, but not enough to distinguish the words. Could this man be Barbara’s son?

Sally frowned. The man looked too old. She’d guess six to eight years younger than Barbara, not fifteen. He opened his arms to Barbara. She fell into them. But it wasn’t the embrace of comfort, nor the embrace of a mother and her son. Sally swallowed, not daring to glance at Joe.

Barbara kissed the man, moving against him like his lover.

Sally’s earlier concern toward Barbara hardened into something else, some emotion she couldn’t identify.

Anger? Fear? If Joe were right, Barbara Bloom’s lover had tried to kill Sally. But why? And who better to suspect for Vic’s murder? Wouldn’t either Barbara or mystery man want the husband out of the way?

And what did any of this have to do with the Kaiser Darrin?

A strained silence settled over Joe and Sally as they headed back to Jeffersontown. Instead of finding anything to prove his innocence, they’d uncovered more questions. He hadn’t wanted to alarm Sally, but he knew in his gut the man in Barbara Bloom’s arms was the guy who’d try to run over her on Watterson Trail. Okay, so Joe hadn’t seen the driver. He didn’t know makes and models of vehicles as well as Sally. But he knew that truck and that toolbox. The silvery metal box appeared jammed inside the truck’s bed, like a chubby man shoved into too-tight jeans.

Joe didn’t like it. More than ever, he feared for Sally’s safety. The sooner he unloaded the Darrin to the FBI, the better. Then they’d have their blasted evidence and she would no longer pose a threat. She’d be safe, he’d be out of it, and his mother’s life could return to normal.

Ha! Who was he kidding? Without Leo Desalvo and Vic Bloom, there was no Bloom Desalvo Motors. Or would Barbara step in to “grow the business” and implement her own ambitious plans? He thought he knew her until tonight. What kind of woman suffered from her husband’s death as she had that morning, only to fall into bed with her lover that night? Could she be a killer?

Joe glanced at Sally. Her eyes closed, she rubbed her injured leg. After hiking through Barbara’s neighborhood, Sally had to be hurting. He pulled his gaze to the highway before he did something reckless like pull over and kiss her senseless. Now what brought that on? He’d been celibate too long for a healthy thirty-two-year old. As soon as he got back to Atlanta, he’d give what’s-her-name a call.

Damn! What
was
her name? Tracy somebody. It’d come to him. Anyway, returning to casual sex and the singles scene roiled in his gut like an undigested meal. Since meeting Sally, other women had lost their appeal. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts. Sally had her dream. He had his. Unfortunately, their dreams were in different cities and different worlds. He pushed aside the troubling thoughts, then struggled for conversation.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

“Just thinking,” she murmured.

“About the man in Barbara’s living room?”

“What else? I wonder who he is.”

“We should’ve gotten his license number.”

Sally’s eyes popped open and she flashed him a smug grin. “I did.”

Joe followed Sally into her kitchen, a single low-wattage hood lamp over the range relieving the darkness. “Let me switch on the lights.”

Justin’s voice echoed from the staircase. “Sally, is that you?”

“Yes, Dad. Joe’s with me.”

“Lock up.” He slammed the upstairs door.

“Want something to drink,” she asked. “We have decaf.”

Joe moved beside her at the sink. “Sit and rest. I’ll make the coffee.”

“Thanks.” Her liquid brown eyes held his gaze, but she didn’t move. She hadn’t yet turned on the lights. The intimacy of the dark kitchen enveloped him. The scent of shampoo and soap wrapped itself around him, pulling him to her. She drew her luscious bottom lip between her teeth. “So I guess you’re anxious to get back to Atlanta.”

“Yes. No.” The coffee forgotten, Joe pulled Sally into his arms. “Dammit, Sally, I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”

She leaned into him, her firm breasts pressing into his chest. Everything below his waist sprang to attention when she murmured, “Well, we have all night.”

His lips touched hers and an explosion of need rocketed through him. Her mouth opened to him, her warm breath mixing with his in sweet surrender. He couldn’t get enough. He nibbled, licked and tasted all of her delicious mouth, and it still wasn’t enough. He wanted, needed all of her. Aching to possess her, he stroked her back, the curve of her hips. With one hand, he caressed her breast, rubbing the nipple to a hardened peak.