Running for Her Life Page 14

  She chewed the inside corner of her mouth. “Okay. I’ll get a bag.”

  Ten minutes later they were on their way. They drove Andy’s old Malibu to Nel’s and switched over to the van. She tossed him the keys and he slid into the driver’s seat. “You’re going to need to stop for gas,” she said.

  Jake pulled into Toby Wilson’s place. He got out to pump the gas, and Tara went inside to buy water for the trip. When he was almost finished, he saw Alice and Henry drive up. Henry started pumping and Alice went into the store.

  He was inside, pulling out his forty dollars, when Alice stopped next to Tara, who was squatting in front of a refrigerated case, pulling bottles of water off the bottom shelf.

  “Honey, I hear you and Jim Waller had a spot of trouble last night.”

  Tara’s head jerked up. “Who told you that?”

  Alice looked a little startled. “Henry heard it in town.”

  “We had a flat tire,” Tara said. “No big deal.”

  “Something horrible could have happened to you along that road. You could have been raped or worse.”

  Tara’s face was pale and her eyes bleak. Jake moved across the store quickly. “Morning, Alice. Ready, Tara?”

  They were in the car and a mile down the road before Tara spoke. “She didn’t mean any harm.”

  Probably not. Besides, she’d been right. Tara had been lucky. Would she be as lucky the next time? “Mind if we listen to the game on the radio?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “The Twins are at home.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll just enjoy the scenery.”

  Like it had changed a lot in a week. An hour later, Jake pulled the van into his parents’ flower-lined driveway. He put it in Park and turned toward Tara. She looked up and down the quiet residential street.

  “Nice,” she said. “Beautiful trees.”

  “Yeah.” He’d managed to calm down during the drive. If he tried real hard, he thought he’d be able to make it through the day. “We’ve lived here since I started middle school. Chase Montgomery lived across the street.”

  “Must have been fun to have a pool.”

  “They didn’t put the pool in until a few years ago. I asked them why they waited and my mom said she hadn’t wanted to be the neighborhood entertainment center.”

  “Sounds smart.”

  “Yeah. I think she was afraid that my brother and I might drown each other.”

  “That wouldn’t happen to be your brother, would it?” Tara pointed to the man walking around the corner of the house, one hand covered by an oven mitt, the other holding a plate.

  Jake nodded and opened his door. “That’s Sam.”

  Tara got out, too. His brother stood five feet from the vehicle. He had on a white Bruce Springsteen T-shirt, loose blue shorts and deck shoes.

  Jake craned his neck to see the plate. “I thought we were having steaks?”

  “We are. These are the appetizers.” He held out the plate of grilled shrimp and Jake took two. He handed one to Tara.

  “What happened to Veronica?” Sam asked, frowning at the van.

  “Hello to you, too,” Jake said. He gave his brother a rough hug. “It’s Tara’s.”

  “Scared me for a minute. Veronica’s like one of the family,” Sam said. “Welcome. You must be Tara.” He extended his oven mitt and Tara shook it.

  “I just have to ask,” she said. “Why do you both call Jake’s truck Veronica?”

  Jake rubbed his chin, looking unsure.

  “Tell her,” Sam urged.

  “It’s no big deal. A couple years ago, my mother got nervous that I didn’t have a steady girlfriend. She was worried about never having any grandchildren. She didn’t say much to me, but she did bug Sam about it.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Sam added.

  “Anyway, Sam decided he couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “Secret Ops guys wouldn’t have been able to take it anymore,” Sam defended himself.

  “So every time my mom said something, he’d tell her not to worry, that I had taken Veronica to the movies, or that Veronica and I had gone out to dinner.”

  She couldn’t help it. The story made her smile. And she thought five years had washed off Jake’s face. “Your poor mother. Does she still think Veronica’s real?”

  “Yeah. But she thinks I’m better off without her. She was insisting on meeting Veronica, so Sam got the bright idea to tell her that Veronica stepped out on me.”

  Sam held up his hands. “Hey, it was true. She let me take her to the car wash. Didn’t even put up a struggle.”

  “Oh, good grief. Your poor mother,” Tara said.

  “She is a saint,” Jake said. He turned back to Sam. “I’m glad you made it. When I talked to Mom earlier in the week, she wasn’t so sure.”

  “Managed to collar the bastard…sorry, Tara, the suspect I’ve been chasing for two weeks. Caught him with his pants down. Literally.”

  “Sounds fascinating,” Tara prompted. She’d always loved the details behind the story. That’s what had led her from writing soft news for the Lifestyles section to hard news, where the stories were complex and often had to be pieced together one nitty-gritty fact at a time over a period of weeks or even months.

  “Oh, yeah, fascinating. This guy owns a little bar and grill. He was involved with one of his waitresses. Right between the three-compartment sink and the bread slicer.”

  Tara clapped her hands. “No way?”

  “Hey, she likes cop stories.” Sam smiled at his brother. “Where’d you find her?”

  “I broke into her house. That’s her version, anyway.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow at Tara.

  “He did,” Tara confirmed.

  “He never did have much technique.”

  Jake shot a hand out and pushed his brother. “I’ll show you technique. You and me. On the court. Ten minutes.”

  “Court?”

  “Basketball.” Both men spoke at the same time, like they were surprised she hadn’t gotten it.

  She nodded. “That’s how you settle things in your family?”

  “Of course,” Jake said.

  “Well, yeah,” Sam echoed.

  “Come on, Tara.” Sam put his arm around her shoulder. “You can sit on the sidelines with Mom. Dad usually has to referee.”

  Twenty minutes later, Tara realized that life wasn’t all bad when you could sit in the backyard, soaking up the warm sun, sipping a cold margarita, watching two sweaty hunks run up and down a basketball court. Both men had stripped down to shorts and sneakers. The sweat glistened off their bare chests, accenting their muscles, their strength. She watched Jake make a layup, his strong body literally flying in the air. She took a sip of her drink. Lord, her mouth felt dry.

  After being introduced to Tara, Jake’s dad had joined his sons on the court as referee. Tom Vernelli had run up and down a few times before gracefully giving up. Now he wandered around the yard, peering at his plants. He walked back toward Tara and his wife. “Sheryl, let me see your camera. My roses are blooming.”

  Sheryl Vernelli pushed a plate of crab dip and crackers toward Tara and pulled a small digital camera out of her shirt pocket. “Take some pictures of your cake, too. That’s why I brought the camera outside.”

  Tom dutifully stepped back and took a couple of shots. Then he swung the camera toward them and, to Tara’s surprise, clicked off a couple more of her and his wife.

  “Jake tells us you own a restaurant,” Sheryl said, as she watched her husband almost lie on the ground to get a shot of his roses. “That must keep you very busy.”

  She sat back in her chair, oblivious to the commotion on the basketball court behind her. This was a woman who’d raised two boys. A little noise and sweat didn’t faze her.

  “Very busy,” Tara said. “I still like it. I have great customers.”

  “I worked in a bakery when the kids were in high school. I always enjoyed that. It seems like there’s something about food tha
t brings out the best in people.”

  “If that’s true, Mom,” Jake said, coming up behind his mother and wrapping his arms around her, “then why aren’t you cooking?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You smell. Go jump in the pool.”

  “Nothing like a mother’s love to warm the cockles of your heart,” Jake said, sounding wounded. He looked at his brother who’d come to stand next to him.

  “I always love you both,” she said. “Just more when you don’t smell. Go swim. We’ll eat in an hour.”

  Jake looked at Tara. “You going to join us, Tara?”

  “Oh, sure.” She reached for her bag, looked in it and then looked up. “Oh, no. I must have grabbed the wrong thing. I don’t have a suit.”

  “Suits are optional,” Sam said, his voice innocent. “For selected guests, anyway.”

  “Shut up, Sam,” Jake warned. He turned toward Tara. “How could you have forgotten your suit? You went back to get it.”

  “I know. I should have turned on the light. I grabbed what I thought was my suit but I only grabbed the bottoms. I don’t have my top.”

  “Still not seeing the problem,” Sam said.

  Sheryl frowned at both of her sons before turning to Tara. “We’re not formal here. And it’s too hot to talk about this for even another minute. Swim in your shirt and swimsuit bottoms. Then when it’s time to eat, I’ll loan you one of my T-shirts. It will be too big but good enough while your shirt and bra dry.”

  She wouldn’t need the T-shirt. She had an extra bra and long-sleeved shirt in her bag. She’d hoped to avoid the pool altogether, but this was the second-best solution. “Sounds great.”

  Tara followed their directions to the nearest powder room. She took off her shorts and underwear and put them in a bag. Then she pulled on her swimsuit bottoms. A tag scratched her and she yanked on its plastic string, breaking it. She stuffed it into her bag, as well. She’d bought the suit for her honeymoon. They’d had tickets for Jamaica. She’d never had a reason to wear it before today.

  She walked out and past Jake, who sat in a chair drinking a beer. She went straight into the shallow end of the pool. She didn’t turn around and look at him until she’d walked far enough that the water covered her breasts. Her blouse billowed up in the water, but Sheryl had been right, it was a hot day, perfect for the pool. “This is wonderful,” she said. “Aren’t you getting in?”

  He stared at her, his mouth slightly open.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and drained his beer. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He took a couple steps toward the deep end and made a clean dive, barely disturbing the water. He surfaced just feet from Tara.

  “I thought you said your parents put the pool in a few years ago?” she said. “Looks like you know what you’re doing.”

  “My best friend had a pool. And a twin sister. I used to hang out there and try to impress her.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Oh, yeah. We used to play Chicken. She’d be my partner and my friend and his girlfriend would team up against us.”

  “Chicken? What’s that?”

  He drew back in mock surprise. “You’ve never played Chicken in a pool?”

  “If it involves clucking and pecking, I don’t do it.”

  He shook his head. “No. Let me show you.” He dove under the water. In one fluid motion, his hands spread her thighs, he shoved his head through the opening, and he stood up, bringing her out of the water with him. She sat on his shoulders.

  “This is Chicken,” he said. “You try to push the other girl off her guy’s shoulders. The last girl sitting is the winner.”

  She looked around, hoping like heck his parents hadn’t decided to come out of the house. When she wobbled, he clamped his hands down on her knees, helping her keep balance.

  Oh, my God. She had herself plastered up against his neck. When he ran his hands up and down her calves, she thought it might all be over but the fireworks. “Jake,” she said, her voice sounding tinny to her own ears. “I think I better get down.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he turned his head and licked the inside of her thigh. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I’ll put you down.” He squatted down, letting her think he was going to gently lower her in the water. Then he suddenly pitched forward, dumping her. She came up sputtering, wiping water out of her eyes.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He looked very serious. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost guttural. “I guess you don’t like being duped. Not many of us do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to do some laps.”

  “Jake, I don’t under—”

  “Hey, how’s the water?” Sam walked toward the pool, a towel around his shoulders.

  “Great.” Jake dove under the water and swam away from her.

  * * *

  TARA SLEPT ON THE WAY HOME from his parents’ house, or at least Jake thought she did. She’d gotten in the car, closed her eyes and hadn’t said a word. After about fifteen minutes, he’d been fairly certain that she’d willed herself to sleep.

  Good avoidance techniques. But it wouldn’t work. He intended to wake her up, take her inside and grill her until she spit out the truth. Then he wanted to spend about five hours in bed with her.

  That was killing him. He wanted that so bad, like an addict wanted his next fix.

  His brain was scrambled and he couldn’t think straight. At his parents’ house, when he’d watched her walk toward the pool, he’d had a sudden vision of what it would be like to have her long legs wrapped around him. Even in her stupid shirt, she’d been sexier than any woman he’d ever seen. But she was hiding something. Something that could hurt her and for all he knew, others. Just like Marcy.

  Yet still he wanted her. That’s what had pissed him off and made him act stupid. He shouldn’t have dunked her. It was immature. Just that quick he’d reverted back to being a sixteen-year-old.

  He’d spent the drive home mentally kicking his own butt and vowing to act at least his real age.

  He turned into Tara’s driveway. “Tara, wake up,” he said. “We’re home.”

  She opened her eyes and rolled her head from side to side, working out the kinks. “I don’t feel so good,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” Tara’s eyes flew wide open, she clapped one hand over her mouth, opened the van door with the other, leaned out and vomited.

  Jake opened the glove compartment and pulled out the extra napkins that he’d seen Tara stash there. “Here.” He shoved them in her hand.

  She sat back in the seat and wiped her mouth. Her eyes were closed and she looked very pale. “Sorry about that,” she said.

  “I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said.

  She smiled, a weak, silly smile. “This is the second time you’ve tried to convince me I need a doctor. You’re going to turn me into a hypochondriac. It’s probably just a touch too much sun. I feel really tired and I have a bad headache.”

  “Can you walk inside?”

  “Oh, sure.”

  She sort of walked inside. He wrapped his arm around her and together they made it. Once inside, she stood perfectly still for a moment then made a mad dash to the bathroom. She came out a minute or so later. “I think I’d better lie down.”

  He helped her into her bedroom. “Do you want to take your clothes off?” he asked.

  “No. Just want to lie down. The room is spinning.”

  “Okay. Let me pull your covers back.” He held on to her with one hand and whipped the covers back with the other. He helped her sit down, then she collapsed back on the pillow and curled into a ball. He watched her for a minute, feeling the pressure ease once he saw her breathing seemed normal.

  He walked out of the bedroom and sunk down on the couch. He grabbed the quilt off the edge of the couch, wadded it up and used it as a pillow. He’d intended to spend the night wit
h her. Not like this, but then again, not much was going his way lately.

  * * *

  TARA WOKE UP when her alarm rang. She had just worked up the energy necessary to roll over and shut if off when it stopped. She opened her eyes. Jake stood next to her bed.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Fine,” she lied.

  “When did you set the alarm?”

  “Yesterday morning. I always reset it in the morning, right after I wake up, even though most days I wake up before it goes off.”

  She swung her legs over the bed and stood up. She wobbled back and forth before she sat back down with a thud.

  “That’s it,” Jake said. “Back in bed.”

  “It’s Monday. I have to go to work.”

  “No. You’re sick. You’re going to fall over. It would be your luck that you’ll pass out next to the stove and catch on fire. You’re staying here.”

  She couldn’t do that. “Janet needs my help. Neither one of us has missed a day since I bought Nel’s.”

  “Good for Janet. She’s going to get to keep the perfect attendance certificate. You’re not going.”

  “But—”

  “I’m worried about leaving you here by yourself. Do you feel well enough that you could drive in with me? Then you could stay at Chase’s house. You’d be just two blocks away if you needed anything.”

  Tara shook her head. He confused the heck out of her. Yesterday, in the pool, they’d been generating enough heat that they could have boiled lobster in that water. At the same time, she could tell he was angry with her.

  The man had dunked her.

  During dinner he’d been polite, obviously not wanting his parents or Sam to realize that something wasn’t quite right. There’d been conversation and laughter and for two hours, she’d relaxed, content to let herself believe that this was the new normal. His parents had warmly hugged her goodbye but Sam, who’d been chatty through most of dinner, had been a little more reserved.

  In the car, Jake had been quiet. During the drive, when she’d started feeling ill, she’d closed her eyes and had been grateful that she didn’t need to respond to conversation. Then when she’d gotten sick, he’d gone above the call of duty. The man had listened to her vomit, not once but twice, and then had the guts to stand close enough to put her in bed.