One Wrong Step (21 page)

Closure. What a load of bull. At least when McAllister asked a question, he was up front about it.

Celie stared at the vending machine and felt an overwhelming craving for a Snickers bar. Sometimes a quick burst of chocolate actually helped her migraines, probably because of the caffeine. On the other hand, she didn’t need the calories, and she wasn’t even hungry, really, so….

As her thoughts turned inward, she realized a headache wasn’t the only thing bothering her. A familiar cramping sensation rippled through her lower abdomen.

Of course. What else could go wrong today? As the reality of her body’s message sunk in, she felt her eyes fill with tears. Where was
this
coming from? She had no idea she’d gotten her hopes up this month. She’d told herself how unlikely it was, and yet here she was with this hole in her heart.

What a day this had turned out to be, and it wasn’t even over yet. No, the worst was still to come. Now she had to talk to McAllister.

John was cranky and tired when he got home from work Wednesday night. He’d put in a fourteen-hour day running between City Hall and the newsroom, and he hadn’t stopped once to eat. After flinging his keys on the counter and loosening his tie, he yanked open the fridge and searched for some dinner.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring at near-empty shelves. He suddenly recalled finishing off the leftover pizza last night while watching Conan O’Brien, so he settled for a Shiner.

He rolled up his sleeves as he listened to his voice-mail messages. A woman had called, but it wasn’t the one he’d been hoping for. She was a grad student he’d met at the Dog & Duck Pub several months ago. Before they’d gotten too inebriated for conversation, they’d talked about their mutual interest in climbing, and she was calling to invite him to do Enchanted Rock with her this weekend. By the tone of her voice, she was inviting him to do her, too.

John erased the message.

Six days had passed since he’d received a brief phone message from Celie:
You’ll be happy to know I’m not pregnant. Please respect my privacy now and leave me alone.

It was pretty clear she didn’t want to talk to him, and he’d had no luck tracking her down. She wasn’t answering his calls and was doing an excellent job dodging him at her apartment building. She was so good, in fact, John had to wonder if she’d left the place at all this week. She was either pissed off and fuming or depressed as hell.

John took his liquid dinner outside and sank down on the back stoop. It was hot and humid tonight, and he instantly started to sweat. He tipped back his beer and listened to the cicadas, remembering the last time he’d sat here after dark, the night Celie had slept over. He didn’t usually invite women to spend the night at his house, but then nothing with Celie had been usual.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. He didn’t want to make the call. He knew how Feenie felt about him; he knew she’d give him crap. But he pictured Celie holed up in her apartment, and his fingers started dialing the numbers.

She picked up right after the first ring.

“Feenie, it’s John McAllister. Sorry to call so late.”

“That’s all right. I’m up with Olivia.”

He’d forgotten about that. He checked his watch. It was after ten. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. What’s up?”

He heard the curiosity in her voice. They hadn’t talked in months, since he’d called to say good-bye before his move to Austin.

“Have you talked to Celie lately?” John asked now.

The baby whimpered on the other end of the phone.

“No. Why?”

“Fuck,” he muttered. He rubbed his hand over his face.

“What’s going on?” Feenie sounded alarmed. “Is she okay?”

He blew out a breath. “No, she’s not. There was an incident two weeks ago. She had a run-in with some rivals of Manny Saledo. It turned out okay, but the FBI and the police got involved and, shit, it’s a long story, but—”

“Is she
hurt
?”

“No, nothing like that. But she ended up getting fired from her job.”

Feenie gasped. “No way!”

“Yep.”

“How could they
fire
her?”

“I don’t know, exactly—”

“Those ungrateful jerks! They should be building her a statue!”

John wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he filed it away for later.

“Since all this happened,” he continued, “I’ve called her about twenty times. She won’t return my messages. She won’t see me. I’m not sure if she’s left her apartment in a while, but I’m pretty sure she’s in some kind of funk.”

He could sense Feenie getting the picture.
That’s right, babe. She slept with me. Just like you told her not to.

“Y’all…are involved?”

Involved. An interesting way to phrase it.

“I think she was hoping I could get her pregnant. But that didn’t happen, and now I think she’s pretty disappointed.” He cleared his throat. “She left me a message about it, and she sounded, I don’t know, flat. Not herself.”

Silence.

“Feenie?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” She sighed. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me all this.”

“She probably thought you’d try and talk her out of getting involved with me.”

“I would have. You barely even know her, McAllister. You have no idea what she’s been through.”

He clenched his teeth. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

Feenie, of course, was already on a soapbox. “Couldn’t you find someone else to shack up with? In a city of a
million
people? Celie’s already dealing with a lot right now.”

“I
know
that. Shit. I don’t need a lecture.”

“The entire last year has been hell for her, and now—”

“That’s not the only thing.” He took a deep breath and tried to tamp down his temper. “She’s been all over the news.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wrote the original article. I know how she is about her privacy, and I tried to keep her name out of the paper. But some local station put it together that she was married to a big international fugitive, Saledo’s name came up, and now it’s a free-for-all. I think she’s freaked out.”

“Well, God, I don’t blame her! You sleep with her and then all her problems end up in the paper? What were you thinking?”

“Look, this isn’t why I called you.”

“Why
did
you call me?”

Why
had
he called? Feenie’s baby cooed in the background as John thought about how to answer that. “I don’t know,” he admitted. It didn’t make any sense, not even to him. He’d called the dead last person who would ever convince Celie to give him another chance. “I guess, you know, I’m worried about her. She’s going through something, and she won’t talk to me, but I think she needs to talk to someone. I know she trusts you.”

The last part stung, because he was admitting Celie didn’t trust
him.

Feenie sighed. “What a mess,” she said.

“I know.”

“Let me see what I can do.”

The buzzer sounded, and Celie slammed shut her textbook. Why couldn’t he take a hint? She’d told him to leave her
alone,
for God’s sake, and instead he’d become her personal stalker.

She was going to have to talk to the management. Again.

She stomped across the apartment and punched Talk on the intercom.

“I told you, Terrance. No visitors, please.”

“Sorry Ms. Wells, but I’ve got a lady down here named Jeannie? She says—”

“Celie, it’s me!” Feenie’s voice came through the speaker. “I’m
dying
for a bathroom. Better buzz me up quick before I make a puddle all over this nice floor.”

Feenie was in Austin. Great. “It’s okay, Terrance. Send her up, please.”

Celie glanced around her apartment. She’d been studying for exams all week and had scarcely taken a shower, much less picked up after herself. Soft drink cans littered the coffee table, and the floor was blanketed with books and lecture notes. Her laptop sat open on the kitchen counter next to a now-empty carton of kung pao chicken.

She started scooping up cans and tossing them in the recycle bin. Why hadn’t Feenie called first? Her timing was terrible—Celie had a final tomorrow morning and a term paper due Monday.

She made a stack of books and dumped some dirty plates in the sink. She hadn’t even brushed her hair today, and she’d been wearing the same T-shirt for the past forty-eight hours.

A knock sounded at the door.

Celie blew out a sigh and gave up. Feenie would just have to ignore the mess. She crossed her apartment, undid the locks, and swung open the door.

“Surprise!” Feenie beamed at her from the hallway. She was all blond curls and twinkling blue eyes, the same as always, except for the squirming bundle in her arms.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Celie stepped back and ushered them inside, locking the door behind them.

Feenie kissed Celie’s cheek and shoved Olivia into her arms. “Hold her for a sec, would you? I’ve
really
gotta pee!”

Celie hugged the baby to her chest. “The bathroom’s just—” But Feenie had already disappeared down the hallway.

Celie’s gaze dropped to Olivia, who was staring up at her with huge brown eyes. She wore a pink striped sleeper that matched the blanket swaddled around her. “Hey there, precious,” Celie said. “Just look how big you’re getting!”

Olivia started whimpering. Her brow furrowed and her little mouth turned down, and Celie panicked and shifted her to a shoulder. She swayed from side to side in what she hoped was a soothing motion.

“I swear, I’ve been dying for the last hour,” Feenie called from the bathroom. “I didn’t want to pull over because I kept thinking we were almost here.”

Olivia wiggled, and Celie stroked her back. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Mommy’s coming right back.” Olivia’s head was covered with downy brown hair, and she smelled like baby powder. Celie kissed her brow.

“We made pretty good time,” Feenie yelled over the faucet. “Five and a half hours, door to door, with one pit stop to feed Liv.”

“Is Marco with you?”

Olivia’s face crumpled. Too loud. Oh, dear.

“Shh…” she cooed, patting the baby’s padded bottom. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to yell.” Maybe she could distract her with something. She walked to the breakfast room window, where the midafternoon sun streamed through the blinds. Olivia blinked as the rays fell across her face. It felt warmer next to the window, and her little frown disappeared.

“Sorry ’bout that,” Feenie said, coming to stand beside Celie. “I feel much better now.”

“She’s getting so big,” Celie marveled. “And look at all this hair!”

“I can’t believe it either. Every day she looks more and more like Marco.” Feenie stroked the baby’s cheek, and she bobbed her head.

“You think she’s hungry?”

“Probably,” Feenie replied, gently taking Olivia from Celie’s shoulder. “It’s been a few hours since her last meal.”

Celie glanced around the living room. The most comfortable place to sit was an oversize armchair, but she remembered Feenie always used a glider back home.

“Let me get my rocker,” Celie said, heading back into her bedroom.

“Oh, don’t bother with that.”

“It’s no bother.”

The chair was buried under towels and dirty clothes, and Celie shoved everything to the floor. She dragged the rocker across the apartment and positioned it alongside an end table.

Feenie sank into the chair. “Thanks,” she said, arranging Olivia in the crook of her arm. She unfastened several buttons on her chambray shirt and, in a few expert motions, had the baby latched on and feeding.

Celie averted her eyes. Feenie was a busty woman under normal circumstances, but since Olivia’s birth…well, it was pretty astonishing.

“Can I get you something?” Celie asked. When she’d last visited Mayfield, she’d noticed Feenie’s habit of keeping a tall glass of Carnation Instant Breakfast handy while she nursed. “I don’t have any milk, but I can make some herbal tea.”

“I’m okay,” Feenie said. “Marco and I shared an orange juice a little while ago.”

Celie plopped onto the couch. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Checking out your security.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. He dropped me off and said he was going to come back and see if he could manage to get up here without alerting the guard.”

“He’s conducting an undercover operation in my
building
?”

Feenie smiled. “I know, I know. But it’s his thing. He’ll give you a full report, which I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to share with whoever manages this place. He likes your security fence, and he says the gates and cameras are top of the line. I think he’s more concerned about the human element.”

“What, like my guard?”

“Yeah. That guy Terrance is really nice, but he never even asked me to sign in or show ID or anything. Marco will have a field day with that. You’re paying a premium here for security.”

Celie sighed.

“Don’t worry. We’re booked at the Hampton Inn tonight, so we won’t be in your way.”

“You’re not in my way. I just had no idea y’all were coming to town. You should have called me.”

Feenie shrugged and gazed down at Olivia. “It was pretty spur of the moment. We didn’t decide to come until last night.”

“Let me guess. Someone heard about me on the news, right?” Celie leaned her head back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “God, my mother’s probably freaking out about now.”

“John McAllister called me, actually.” Feenie looked at her. “He thinks you’re in some kind of funk.”

Unbelievable. Celie pushed herself off the sofa. “That man has a lot of nerve telling you to come up here like this—”

“He didn’t tell me to come. He just said he was worried.” Feenie eyes filled with concern. “Why didn’t you say something, Celie? I would have been up here in a flash if I’d known you were having all this trouble.”

She scoffed. That was exactly why Celie
hadn’t
said anything. “I’m not having trouble.”

Now Feenie looked hurt.

“Not really.” God, why did McAllister have to be so damn meddlesome?