Obsession (5 page)

“Look, you’re here to recuperate. You don’t own me. You don’t control me and you certainly don’t have the right to demand.”

He looked stunned before his expression closed down to his inscrutable cop face. “I never thought I owned you, Tess, and I’ve never tried to control you. I was worried, that’s all. But, you’re right. I don’t have any claim on you. You made sure of that.” He swung around and headed for the bedroom. “Finish your baking.”

Tess stood alone in her kitchen, listening to Alex slowly make his way to his bedroom. Well, she’d certainly screwed that up.

Chapter Eight

Tess knocked over the alarm clock in her attempt to shut it off. It hit the floor, rolled and went silent. Thank God. She rolled onto her back and groaned.

Her head felt stuffed full of cotton and she swore some evil elf was pulling her ribs apart with a crowbar every time she coughed.

She leaned over the side of the bed to peer at the clock and her head felt like it would fall off. She’d been feeling bad for a few days and had diligently taken her vitamin C in the hopes of staving off the cold that had been lurking. Apparently the vitamin C wasn’t working because this was the worst she’d felt.

Two more days until Christmas and the end of her busy season. All she had to do was make it through today and tomorrow. Thankfully, she’d taken Alex to physical therapy yesterday and he didn’t have another appointment until after Christmas.

Thoughts of cookies yet to be iced had her sitting up and closing her eyes when the room pitched and swayed.

“Two days and then you can rest,” she told herself, then sniffed and coughed, doubling over and holding her ribs.
Holy cow, that hurt!

After a hot shower that did nothing to alleviate the pressure in her head, she shuffled into the kitchen to face the mess she’d left the night before. She’d learned the hard way not to wait until the last minute to clean up, but last night it’d been all she could do to crawl into bed after the last batch of cookies.

She flipped on the lights and paused. The counters gleamed, the sugar and flour had been neatly stowed away and the floor swept.

“You look like crap.”

She turned. The room spun in a different direction and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from falling over. Alex stood by the table, looking sexy in nothing but a baggy pair of sweatpants that barely clung to his hips, his hair sticking up, stubble on his jaw, his eyes still bleary from sleep. The bruise on his chest caused by the bullet slamming into his vest had faded to a mustard yellow.

He glanced at her white knuckles clutching the doorframe. “Go back to bed, Tess, before you fall down.”

“Good morning to you, too, Alex. Thanks for cleaning up the kitchen.”

“You may think I don’t pay attention, but I do. I saw how beat you were last night.”

She suppressed a sigh. No more fighting. That’s all she wanted, was for the two of them to stop sniping at each other for at least one day. “I’m fine. And thank you, I really mean it.”

He shot her a look that told her he didn’t believe it and lowered himself onto a kitchen chair, gripping the top of his cane with both hands as he sat. Othello padded in and stood at the back door, his ears cocked forward. “You work too much.”

She
worked too hard? If she did, she’d learned it from him. Besides, what else did she have in her life but her business? Tess let Othello out.

“I heard you coughing all night. You need to see a doctor.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you awake.”

“You didn’t.” He massaged his knee and Tess wondered if he even knew he was doing it.

She looked pointedly at his hand. “You still have your pain medication.”

He put his hand back on the cane. “No. Just thinking.”

She turned to the cabinets and pulled out bowls. “About the killer?”

“Yes.”

This was something she couldn’t help with even though she desperately wanted to. She knew it distressed him that he couldn’t remember the killer’s face and that he blamed himself for Jason’s death. He needed to solve this case, catch the killer and get him convicted. Then he’d be at peace. Of course that wouldn’t solve the tension between them.

She was beginning to wonder if anything would.

***

Two hours later, Alex watched Tess’s van back out of the driveway. He hadn’t been kidding when he said she looked like shit. Her coughing had kept him awake, along with a host of other crap he couldn’t stop thinking about.

He worried about her. Worried the killer would follow her and try to get to him through her. Worried she’d crash on the snowy roads. Hated that she had to work so hard and that they were living together but never saw each other and couldn’t hold a decent conversation without arguing.

How ironic that Tess had wanted more time with him and, now that he had the time, she didn’t want anything to do with him.

He made his way to the couch and sat down. Othello shoved his head into Alex’s lap and Alex stroked him. How many times had he come home late from work and found Tess asleep on this same couch? He’d always told her she didn’t need to wait up, but she’d insisted she wanted to make sure he’d made it home safe.

He looked out the window at the empty space where the van usually sat. He’d always tried to call and tell her when he’d be late, but a lot of times he’d been too busy. What had it been like for her to wait for him, not knowing where he was or what he was doing? And how sad was it that he just now thought of what his career had done to her?

She tried to tell you. All those times she asked you to go places with her, do things with her.
And he’d always told her he had to work. Work came first and he’d never understood why she couldn’t understand.

What an idiot.

Outside, a car door slammed. Using his cane for leverage, he hauled himself up and walked to the window. Tony was trudging up the driveway, holding a bag.

Alex met him at the front door.
“Man, it’s
good to see you. I’m bored out of my mind.”

Tony laughed, wiped his boots on the rug and handed him the plastic drawstring bag. “The detectives wanted me to give you your clothes and stuff from the night of the shooting.”

“Can you stay for a while?” The words reminded Alex of all the times Tess had asked him that same question. It made him feel needy and at the same time sad.

“Can’t, AJ. Gotta get to work. Some other time.” And Tony’s answer had been the same one Alex had usually given Tess.

After Tony left, Alex made his way back to the couch.

Othello sniffed the bag and sat back on his haunches. “What do you say, O? Open it?”

The dog lifted a paw and placed it on Alex’s leg. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Maybe I’ll remember something, eh?”

He opened the bag and memories flashed like light bulbs on a camera. Blood all over his leg, pooling under him. The stars shining down on him. The wail of sirens. Jason’s dead eyes looking toward heaven. The look of horror in Tony’s eyes. The softly falling snow that seemed so out of place.

He didn’t think he’d ever forget the feeling of knowing he was dying. Of all the regrets that piled up. The biggest being the end of his marriage. He’d desperately wanted to tell Tess how much he missed her and loved her.

So why was it, when he’d been given a second chance, he had yet to say the words?

Because Big Ole Powerful Alexandre Juran, the man everyone asked to do the dangerous jobs, the man who feared nothing when it came to the law and getting his man, feared another rejection from Tess.

He plunged his hand into the bag and pulled out the first thing he touched. His shirt, smeared with blood, a bullet hole in the center. Thank God for Kevlar. Othello sniffed the shirt and whined, backing away from the odor. Alex balled up the garment, dropped it on the floor and pulled out his jeans. They, too, were soaked in blood and cut to shreds by the medical team.

He turned the bag over and gave it a good shake. His cell phone fell out, along with his watch and wedding ring. Even though the divorce had been only days away, he hadn’t taken the ring off. He picked it up and turned it around. Amazing that a simple circle of gold could represent so much love and so much despair.

He slid the ring into his jeans pocket, picked up the cell phone and powered it up. He was surprised that he had enough juice left in the battery to turn on. The little envelope in the corner of the screen indicated he had voicemail messages.

He stuffed the phone in his shirt pocket and stared at the clothes lying in a heap on the floor. The baseball hat. Where’d the hat go? A picture of a hand knocking the John Deere hat off his head flashed through his mind. Closing his eyes, Alex concentrated on that small new detail. A hand. Five fingers. He replayed the memory, slowing it down, memorizing every aspect.

Why had the man knocked his hat off? What had been the point? To get a better look at him? Had he looked familiar?

Gold flashed. A wedding ring. Like the one he wore. Like the one thousands, hell, maybe millions, of other men wore.

Alex reached for his cell phone and called Tony.

“Yo, Alex. What’s up, man?”

“I remember something.”

Tony must have reached over and turned the radio down because the background noise suddenly got quiet. “Yeah? What?”

“The killer. He’s married.”

“How do you know?”

“He knocked my hat off. Remember, I wore that John Deere hat? He knocked it off my head. He wore a wedding ring. Gold.”

“Man, AJ, it’s something, but it’s not. How many men wear gold wedding rings?”

“It’s a start, Tony. Maybe my memory’s returning.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Juran. Could be nothin’.”

“Could be. But then, it could be something.”

“Sure. I’ll pass this on. Let me know if you remember more.”

Alex flipped his phone closed and stared at his bloody pants, searching his mind, trying to remember more. Nothing came to him except a headache and he eventually gave up, disheartened yet excited he was another step closer.

“I’ll get you,” he said to the quiet house. “I’ll find you, you son of a bitch.”

He made his way to the garage and shoved the clothes into the trash bag, then went in search of Tess’s cookies. She usually left a few for him on a plate and he grabbed one and bit into it. He would never admit this out loud, but he’d craved Tess’s desserts since he moved out, going so far as to eat lunch at the diners who carried her desserts just to get a piece of one of her pies or cakes.

He was licking his fingers when his phone chirped. For a moment he didn’t recognize the sound, he’d been so long without it. Fishing it out of his pocket, he looked at the display and frowned. Scott Greeley, his attorney.

“Juran.”

“Alex! Man, I’ve been going crazy trying to get a hold of you. Heard about the shooting but couldn’t get in touch.”

When Tess served him with divorce papers, Alex had ignored them until the guys at work told him he was being an idiot, that he needed an attorney whether he wanted the divorce or not. Scott Greeley had represented some of his fellow officers in other divorce cases, so Alex had called him.

“How you doing, buddy?”

He hadn’t liked the guy on sight, although that probably had more to do with the divorce and less to do with Scott himself. But still, he didn’t consider Greeley his buddy.

“Doin’ okay, Scott. What can I do for you?”

“Wanted to run a few dates by you.”

“Dates for what?”

“The divorce hearing.”

“The divorce happened weeks ago.”

“Tess didn’t tell you? She canceled the court date. ”

“Canceled?” Alex looked out over the backyard. Othello sniffed around the floor, licking up crumbs. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than normal. His mind ran in a hundred different directions.

“Yeah. Said she didn’t want to go through with it while you were laid up in the hospital.”

“Let me get this straight, Scott. You’re saying I’m still married? To Tess?”

“Well, yeah, but not for long. How’s the end of January sound? Say the twenty-ninth?”

Alex’s world had shattered six months ago and now it suddenly seemed brighter. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right. “No, Scott, I don’t think so.”

“Shit, Alex, we can’t do it any sooner than that. That’s the first date I could get.”

“You know what, Scott? I don’t need your services anymore.”

“Are you crazy? She’ll take you for everything you’ve got. You need representation, Alex.”

“Thanks for all you’ve done. Oh, and send your bill to my old address. I’m back with Tess.”

He closed his phone, dug into his pocket, pulled out his wedding ring and slipped it on his finger. The sun glinted off the gold and the weight of it felt right.

Chapter Nine

Ignoring the sweat gathering between his shoulder blades and rolling down his back from the simple act of hobbling down the steps, Alex surveyed the basement. His weights were where he’d left them six months ago. He’d been so convinced he’d return to live here again, he hadn’t bothered taking them. Maybe he could make use of this confinement, work out some, in addition to the exercises the physical therapist recommended. If he did all that, maybe he could return to work sooner than planned.

But first things first.

Twenty minutes later, out of breath, his knee aching, Alex lowered the box of ornaments to the living room floor. He wiped the sweat from his brow and opened the flaps. Memories hit him like a baseball bat to the stomach.

A grizzly bear pulling a Christmas tree reminded him of their trip to the Smoky Mountains. They’d hiked during the day and made love in the tall four-poster bed at night.

The tinkling of a red bell shaped like an apple brought images of New York City and the vacation they’d taken one hot summer. He hadn’t much liked the hustle and bustle and the wall-to-wall people of the Big Apple, but Tess had loved it.

Each ornament reminded him of happier times. Of times when they’d been sure their love could conquer anything. By the time dusk fell, the tree looked like their Christmas trees of years past. He lit a fire, turned on the twinkling lights and sat down to wait for Tess.

***

Tess trudged up the driveway. It’d taken longer than she’d expected to make her deliveries and, as the day progressed, her body had rebelled. Her feet refused to move fast enough and her back hurt every time she picked up a box.

One more day.

How many times had she told herself that?

She opened the front door and pulled her coat off, dropping it on the floor. Her boots came next, along with her scarf. She blinked, trying to focus on the hazy glow of Christmas tree lights.

Alex limped in from the kitchen, the familiar tap, shuffle of his feet and cane making her turn toward him. He pulled up short. “Jesus, Tess. You look like hell.”

She passed a hand over her sweaty brow and pushed her hair away. “Yeah, you said something like that earlier.” She shivered and rubbed her arms with her hands. The fire called to her, but her kitchen called louder.

Alex pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up.” Worry lines creased the area between his eyebrows. “Get in bed.”

She shook her head. The room tilted and the lights on the tree and in the windows blurred into one big golden ball. “Can’t. Got things to do.”

“Not tonight, sweetheart. The only thing you have to do is sleep.” He gently took her arm and guided her down the hall.

She wanted to pull away, but was afraid she’d fall. “One more day, Alex. Got more deliveries tomorrow.”

He shook his head. It took some effort on her part to follow the movement. “Sorry, Tessie.”

Panic had her yanking her arm free, but she stumbled and her shoulder hit the wall.

Alex dropped his cane to catch her before she slid to the floor. “Tess, this is ridiculous. You need sleep and you need to see a doctor.”

She coughed. Her throat rattled and her ribs felt as if they’d cracked in two. She held on to her ribcage with one hand and covered her mouth with the other.

“You’re pissing me off, Tess. You either get in bed or I’ll carry you.”

“You can’t carry me, you idiot.” She pushed away from the wall and stumbled in the direction of the kitchen.

“All the more reason for you to walk on your own, then.” He took her arm again and with surprising strength pulled her down the hall, turning when he came to his room. Tess dug her heels into the soft carpet. “I can’t go in there! That’s your room.”

He tugged on her hand. “You said yourself this room has the best mattress. Do you need help undressing?”

She shook her head.

“Good. I’ll call the doctor.” He pointed to the bed. “If you’re not in there, under the covers, by the time I get back, I’m tossing you in myself.”

***

“Tess. Tess, honey, wake up.”

Tess moaned and shrugged off the hand shaking her shoulder.

“Tess. You have a doctor’s appointment. Shannon’s on the way to take you. You need to get ready.”

She sat up and coughed. Damn, it hurt to move. She tried to lie back down, but a strong arm held her up. She whimpered.

“I know, baby.”

She opened blurry eyes and tried to focus on the clock. “Time is it?”

“Five o’clock. The doctor’s staying over to see you, so you have to hurry.”

She burrowed into the strength of Alex’s arms and the warmth of his body. He was like a furnace and she was so cold.

He tugged on her arm. The loss of his body heat caused her to start shivering again.

“Tess, get up. You can sleep when you get back, I promise. Damn, I wish I could take you myself, but I still can’t drive.” His husky voice floated around her and she smiled.

“’Kay.”

Twenty minutes later, she stood at the front door while Alex bent over her, attempting to button her coat. He swayed on his good leg.

Tess brushed him away. “I can do this myself.” Being up and about made her grumpy. Each ache and pain intensified.

Shannon pulled into the driveway and honked.

Alex tugged the collar of her coat tighter around her neck and kissed her nose. “Be a good girl and listen to what the doctor says.”

“Yes, Dad.”

He smiled and gave her a quick hug, then grabbed his cane and opened the door. “Now out.”

She made her way to Shannon’s minivan and climbed in. The lingering smell of old fast food and spoiled milk had her stomach churning.

“I hope this is quick,” Shannon said, looking in her rearview mirror. She backed out of the driveway and shifted gears, accelerating down the street. “I have to get home. Dinner’s in the oven and Roger wasn’t too happy I ran out on him.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to spoil your night.” Tess closed her eyes because the passing scenery nauseated her.

Shannon sighed. “That’s okay. Fact is, I’m glad to get out of that house. Screaming kids in the middle of winter, with Christmas just days away, gets on my nerves. Plus this baby’s sitting on my bladder and pressing against my diaphragm.”

Tess didn’t want to hear this.

Shannon sighed again, an exaggerated sound meant to elicit sympathy. “You’re so lucky to still have your figure, Tess.”

Shut up! Oh, please, just shut up.

“Kids are so draining—physically, mentally, spiritually.”

“Financially.”

Shannon laughed. “Financially. Roger’s constantly complaining about the cost of raising kids.”

“So why are you having another?”

“This one was an oops.”

According to Shannon, every one of her kids had been an oops. Tess shook her head and looked out the front windshield. She let the silence drag on, happy that Shannon had stopped complaining about things she longed for.

A sniff had her turning back to her sister. A single tear ran down Shannon’s cheek. Why, oh why, hadn’t Alex driven her? Of course the doctors had said he couldn’t drive, but they’d also said he couldn’t use a cane and he’d ignored that advice.

“Something’s wrong, Tess.”

Tess leaned her head against the headrest. Yeah, something was wrong all right. Her head felt like it was ready to split open, her ribs ached from coughing and her back hurt. Somehow, Tess didn’t think Shannon was referring to her illness, though.

“Something’s wrong with Roger. He hasn’t been acting right for a long time now.”

She and Shannon had never been close. They’d been complete opposites growing up, even down to their looks. Shannon had been a cool blonde with big blue eyes, a flirtatious manner and curves in all the right places, while Tess had been more the jock, just one of the guys.

With the death of their parents, months apart, the differences between them pulled them even further apart. Shannon settled down and started a family, pushing out a baby every other year. Tess had married but failed miserably at the marriage and baby parts.

“Maybe he’s worried about feeding another kid.”

Shannon shook her head. “Oh, no. He may complain about this pregnancy draining the funds, but he’s happy, I know he is. It’s something else. He’s worried about something and when I ask him what’s wrong, he just says it’s nothing. I’m afraid, Tess.”

Tess patted Shannon’s knee. She knew the fear Shannon spoke of, had felt it when her own marriage began to fail, and she couldn’t help but feel for her sister. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe work has him down.”

Shannon sniffed again. “You’re probably right. It’s just that he’s so jumpy lately. He snaps at the kids all the time and then disappears for hours in the evening. I don’t understand it.”

It sounded like Roger had a honey on the side. If that was the case, then Tess would kick his sorry butt all over the state. Shannon might be shallow and self-serving, but no one deserved a philandering husband, especially a woman so close to delivering her fourth child.

***

Two hours later Alex met Tess at the front door. He was leaning heavily on his cane, deep furrows bracketing the sides of his mouth and his eyes shadowed in pain.

“You’ve done too much, Alex. You need to sit down, take some weight off the knee.”

“Don’t baby me.” He helped her into the house. What a pair they made. It seemed he leaned more on her than she on him.

Shannon stood on the porch, holding a pharmacy bag. “What’d the doctor say?” he asked her.

“Pneumonia.” Shannon shoved the bag at him and backed up.

“
Pneumonia
.” He turned to Tess. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?”

Tess shrugged out of her coat. “The doctor said to take it easy, rest, take my medicine and drink plenty of fluids. You know—the usual advice.”

Just the thought of standing in the kitchen and mixing ingredients, then braving the cold and her temperamental van made her sick to her stomach.

“I’ll get you something to drink and then you can take your medicine and sleep.”

She shook her head, regretting the action when the room started to spin. “Wake me in an hour.”

Alex’s dark gaze touched various places on her body and a frown deepened the lines in his tired face.

“My business depends on it, Alex.” Her clients relied on her for their Christmas parties. If she didn’t complete these last important deliveries, her name would be mud in the catering industry.

Something must have convinced him she was serious because he held his hand out to her. A smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “Take a nap. Take your medicine. I’ll help.”

“You’ll help?”

“I’ll do whatever I can.”

“And you promise you’ll wake me?”

“I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

Something didn’t seem quite right with that statement but damn if her foggy brain could figure out what.