Wedding Bell Blues (17 page)

Besides, that wasn't my idea of a car for a cop, even an
off-duty cop.

A quick glance at Colton as he switched off the engine had
that
spark of fear that was never far away once more leaping to life. He sat
there, frowning as he studied the car. Without a word, he reached for
his cell phone and I knew without asking he was about to call in the
license plate number. That was enough to tell me it wasn't a cop's car.

So who did it belong to?

Before Colton could place his call, the front door opened and
my
mother stepped outside. Dressed in a pair of jeans and short-sleeved
blouse, her hair pulled back so it wouldn't fall in her face, she
waited. Even from the car, her worry was clear. She might be many
things, brilliant surgeon and busybody foremost among them, but she was
a devoted mother and right now one of her babies had been hurt and was
in danger. She'd never take that lightly.

"We'd better go inside," I said as I unbuckled my seatbelt.
"The car probably belongs to the kid they have do the yard."

He didn't like it. I didn't need to see him hesitate in the
process
of punching in a number on the cell phone. I could feel his concern and
frustration building. Not that I blamed him. I didn't like it either.
But what could we do? I didn't want to leave my mother standing out
there any longer than possible.

"Jessie, are you all right?" Mom ran down the walk toward us,
for
once in her life not worrying about what the neighbors might think.

"I'm fine, Mama. Really."

She pulled me into a fierce hug and then held me at arm's
length,
her eyes dark and worried as she looked at me. One hand reached up and
tilted my head this way and that as she studied the bruises. Worried
mother had quickly turned to competent doctor. It wouldn't last. I knew
that. But, for the moment, I was more than happy to have her in that
mode. I needed the reassurance she could give me that my injuries were
healing properly and, as soon as we were inside, I wanted her to take a
look at the cut down my cheek, to reassure me that I wouldn't be
scarred.

"Colton, I want the truth. Is she all right?" Now she pinned
him
with a firm look and, when I glanced at him, he looked like he very
much wanted to fidget under the intensity of her gaze.

"I think so." He cleared his throat and looked around. Mom
might not
realize why, but I did. He didn't like standing out here in the open.
For that matter, neither did I. "Maybe we could go inside?" he
suggested.

"Before we do-" Now it was my mother's time to look nervous.
That
most definitely wasn't normal. It was as though she'd done something
she didn't want us to know about. Or maybe she did, but she didn't know
how to tell us. Either way, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it
might be.

"Mama, what's going on?"

Before she could answer, the front door opened again and, for
not
the first time - or even the second or third time since Saturday - I
knew I'd fallen down the rabbit hole and landed in some alternate
universe where the unexpected and unwelcome was commonplace.

And this was most definitely not only unexpected but most
definitely unwelcome.

Framed in the doorway, looking as hesitant as I must have
looked
furious, stood the one person I'd cut from my life at the same time I'd
thrown Colton out of my bed. Her brown hair fell about her shoulders;
her brown eyes looked as scared as a doe facing a hungry wolf. The
fingers of her right hand clutched the doorframe, and she looked like
she might take flight.

"Mama," I growled just before whipping around to confront
Colton,
only to stop in my tracks. He stood beside me, looking like he'd been
struck smack between the eyes with a two-by-four. Then the blood that
had drained from his face in one moment rushed back as anger replaced
the shock. He took one step forward, his hands fisted at his side,
before he spun around and stalked away, as if he didn't trust himself
to be within reach of Heather Grossman.

"Jessie, please. Don't blame her," Heather spoke quickly, her
voice
soft, even scared. Good. At least she knew she was close to being wiped
from existence. "She didn't know I was coming. I just showed up on the
doorstep a few minutes ago. You've got to know she tried to convince me
to leave before you arrived. But I didn't, I couldn't. I had to make
sure you were all right."

"All right?" God, would I never awaken from this nightmare?
"Sorry, but I'm having a hard time believing that."

"Please, Jess. I know you're upset with me -"

Upset! She thinks I'm upset with her? Upset doesn't come close
to what I'm feeling.

"You have every reason to be angry, Jess, just as you have
every
reason not to trust me. But it is the truth." She held her hands out to
me. Surely, she didn't expect me to take them, to accept this joke of
an apology. "Jess, when I got the email telling me what happened, I
knew I had to come. I had to see for myself that you're all right. Most
of all, I had to make sure you knew the truth about what happened."

"As you can see, I am." My jaw hurt, I was clinching it so
hard. I
wouldn't dignify her comments about "the truth" with a response. I
doubted she could tell the truth if her life depended on it. "Now, if
you don't mind, I'd like you to get the hell out of here."

"Please, just one more thing, and then I'll leave. I promise I
won't
bother you again, won't try to contact you again unless you contact me
first."

Now she took a step out onto the porch and it was all I
could do not to retreat to where Colton stood next to the car. Part of
my mind wondered at his retreat, at the anger I could feel radiating
off of him even from this distance. It was as though he were as shocked
and furious to see her as I was. But I couldn't think about that, not
now. Not when the woman I'd found with him on our kitchen table seemed
intent on talking to me. Especially not when the jealousy and red hot
fury I'd felt that terrible day once more washed over me, demanding
satisfaction.

"Believe me, there's nothing you can say that I want to hear."

"Jessie," Mama started, looking from me to Heather and back
again.

"Don't, just don't." I held up a hand to keep her from saying
anything else even as I winced inwardly as the hurt that flashed in her
eyes. I knew she was as surprised by Heather's sudden appearance as was
I. I also knew part of her wanted me to hear what Heather had to say,
if for no other reason that it might, finally, let me move on. The
problem was, I didn't know if I wanted to move on, and I sure as hell
didn't want to if it meant having to deal with Heather again. "As for
you-" Now I rounded back to my former friend. "You made your loyalties
very clear ten years ago. I appreciate you wanting to check on me." Not
really, but Mama had raised me to be polite, even when it stuck in my
craw.

The sound of tires screeching around the corner stopped
anything
else I might have said. Instinct had me turning in the direction of the
sound. As I did, part of my mind registered Colton's reaction. His
right hand flew to his side where his gun rested at his waist. His face
whipped in the direction of the car even as his left hand dug his cell
phone out of his pants pocket. Then, as if remembering the rest of us,
he half-turned, gesturing for us to move, to run.

"Take cover!" he yelled as a battered van sped ever nearer.

The passenger window of the van rolled down and a piece of
pipe, at
least that's what my mind saw, stuck out. Fear and disbelief rooted me
in place. It was like a bad movie, one of those where the director
decided it would be more cinematically gripping to slow the film down
to a snail's pace. Colton turned his head, yelling for us to get down
even as he pulled his gun. Behind me, I could hear Mom and Heather
running for the house. There was a small burst of flame from the end of
the pipe followed instantly by a loud pop-pop-pop. Then tires squealed
again even as the sounds of sirens in the distance reached me.

And, in the middle of it all, there I stood, just like a
stature or
some idiotic fool as Colton raced across the yard, leaping and knocking
me to the ground. There were stars and pain and the wailing of sirens.

"Get off of me!"

"Get off of me!"

I shoved futilely at Colton even as he did his best to cover
me with
his body, to protect me from the shots that had already whizzed past
us. Despite the fear that threatened to close my throat, to freeze my
lungs until I suffocated, I was mad. No, that's putting it much too
mildly. I was pissed. This had gone from the realm of a bad dream into
the surreal and beyond, and I was tired of it. I was tired of being
scared. I was tired of having things happen to me that I couldn't
control. Most of all, I was tired of people trying to kill me.

It stopped now.

If I could just figure out how.

"Colton, damn it, get off!" I shoved at him again, now more
aware of
his body pressed against mine than I should have been, especially with
my mother and - oh, God - Heather looking on.

He rolled to his knees, his gun in his right hand and his left
hand
firmly holding me in place. His eyes swept up and down the block. Not
that it did any good. Other than the neighbors who'd come outside to
see what the commotion was all about and the squad cars screeching to a
halt behind Colton's sedan, nothing seemed out of the ordinary now.
With a curse, he holstered his gun and turned back to me, pulling me
close, quickly checking to make sure I was all right.

Well, he wasn't the only one worried. Even as his hands, those
wonderful hands that had me wishing we weren't in my parents' front
yard with an audience watching us, patted me, checking for any
injuries, I was doing the same to him. My heart had stopped as I
watched him racing toward me, ignoring the shots fired in our
direction. If he'd been hurt because of me....

"I want you to go inside, Jess," he said softly as he helped
me to
my feet. "Go inside. I'll be there just as soon as I talk to the
uniforms."

I wanted to argue. I didn't want him outside in case the van
returned. I wanted him inside, safe. But I knew better than to suggest
it. He had a job to do, whether I liked it or not. A job he was good at
and one he wouldn't walk away from just because it might put him in
danger.

Concern for Colton wasn't the only reason I didn't want to go
inside. It wasn't even the main reason. No, that was reserved for
Heather. Whether I liked it or not, she couldn't leave, at least not
until someone took her statement. That left me with no alternative. To
go inside meant I'd have to deal with her. There'd be no way to prevent
it. Well, I guess I could lock myself in the bathroom, but that
wouldn't be fair to my mother. I couldn't leave her to deal with
Heather, especially since Mom didn't know the whole story, and I had no
intention of ever telling her.

Still, wasn't it bad enough someone had taken a pot shot at
me? Did I really have to deal with Heather as well?

"Jess, please. Go inside." Colton spoke softly, glancing once
more
at the uniforms as they climbed out of the first squad car and moved
quickly in our direction. "I need to get this on the air. It might be
the break we've been hoping for."

He didn't like it. I could see it in his eyes. That helped. So
I
nodded and reached for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. Then I
grimaced as his eyes flicked from my face to something over my shoulder
and I remembered we had an audience. Great.

"All right. But be careful."

He nodded once and then turned hurried to where the uniforms
waited.
I stayed where I was for a moment, doing my best to reassure myself
that he'd be all right, that he knew what he was doing. Then I drew a
deep breath and closed my eyes, counting slowly to ten before turning
to face my mother and my former friend.

"Jessie?"

Mom stood in the doorway, her face pale, and her
eyes wide. She might be a fearless surgeon, but this was different.
This was a peaceful, almost boring neighborhood where nothing more
serious than kids shooting off fireworks on the Fourth of July, or an
occasional house being papered, ever happened. I simply couldn't
remember the last time there'd been a case of criminal mischief, much
less burglary or assault. I don't think any of the gang activity, so
prevalent in other parts of town, had ever touched this neighborhood.
Until now, that is. It was entirely possible this had been nothing more
than a gang banger's initiation by drive-by. I just didn't buy it. I
knew what this had been. Whoever had been in that van had been shooting
at us - at Colton and me. That was something my mother wasn't prepared
to handle. How could she be?

Not that I was either.

"I'm fine, Mama." I tried to smile in reassurance as I hurried
to
her. Funny how hard that simple action can be when you're scared to
death. "We'd best get inside. I'm sure Colton or one of the others will
be in to talk with us as soon as they have things in hand out here."

Heather
all but hovered unsurely next to my mother, and I fought the urge to
step past her, slamming the door in her face. Tempting as it was, I
couldn't do it. First, because the van might come back and I wouldn't
be able to live with myself if anything happened to her. Second because
I didn't want her near Colton any more than I wanted her near me.
Jealousy, long thought forgotten, once more reared its ugly head and I
sighed again. Why did my life have to be so damned complicated?

"You, too, Heather. I'm sure the cops will want to talk to you
as well."

With that, I stepped inside, waiting for the others to join
me. Wasn't this going to be a fun afternoon?

The moment the door shut behind us, Mama snapped out of her
shock.
Or at least she gave a good imitation of it. She sent Heather into the
living room to wait. Then she grabbed me by the arm and all but dragged
me down the hall to the small half-bath off of her study. Her hand
slapped at the light switch, betraying just how upset she still was.
Before I could say a word, she positioned me so she could have a good
look at my injured cheek.