The Last Bachelor (8 page)

He frowned. “Yeah, why?”

“I just wondered. The other waitresses say he's like my stepfather, but he seems very nice.”

“I'm not sure what the truth is, honey, but let's not hang around him. We've got enough to deal with.”

“Okay,” she said agreeably.

When they got to his mother's house, Amy was already there. She'd made her husband take half a day off and come baby-sit the kids, which she thought was a good idea.

Joe pulled her aside. “Amy, I've already told Mom, but I want Ginger dressed from the skin out.
She'll protest buying anything. Try to hide the price tags and tell her it's expected for my wife to dress nicely. People will think I'm a failure if she isn't dressed well.”

“Joe, surely I won't have to go that far,” Amy said with a laugh.

“Yeah, you will. Especially for the underwear, because she'll point out it can't be seen. She's had a rough life. I want to make her happy. But we'll have to force her.”

Several hours later, Amy understood what Joe had meant. Only following Joe's advice enabled her to convince Ginger to buy the outfits. As Joe had predicted, the underwear was especially difficult to get her to buy. Mrs. Turner helped there.

“But, dear, you want to please your husband when—I mean, every bride wants to tempt her husband.”

Ginger's cheeks flamed and she hurriedly agreed, not protesting again until she caught sight of the price tag for one lacy bra in sky blue. “That's too expensive!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, no, dear, it's well worth it,” Vivian said. “That's the exact color of your eyes.”

“It's not her eyes he'll be looking at,” Amy whispered, chuckling.

 

Thursday was another long day for Ginger. Joe thought about trying to convince her to skip school, but he decided that would be wrong of him. After
two o'clock Friday, she would have the rest of the day and the entire weekend free.

Except for Saturday evening when she would appear at the opening as his wife and make every man there jealous. Amy and his mother had helped her select a blue watered-taffeta sheath the exact color of her eyes. When she'd come out of the dressing room to seek his approval, she'd taken his breath away.

Remembering the way she looked wasn't good for his blood pressure. Or his self-control. And he had to stay in control because he needed to stay close to her to make sure she was safe.

So here he was sitting in his car at the club, fifteen minutes early, to pick her up. Maybe he'd go in and find her. That would be better than just sitting here. The air was warming up and he didn't like getting hot.

Inside, he found a lot of people still dining in the café. He grabbed a small table and asked Ginger for a soda when she had a minute. At least here he could watch her work. Her graceful movements and friendly smile told him why she was so popular.

When two o'clock rolled around, she set a plate of nachos in front of him.

“What's this? Aren't we ready to leave?”

“Mr. Small needs me to stay another half hour and he said maybe you wouldn't mind if you had something to munch on.”

He glared at her. “You're supposed to get off at two. You have a class tonight.”

“Please, Joe? It's just half an hour. Or as soon as my tables clear. It won't be that long.”

“I suppose so, but I don't like it.”

“Pedro put extra cheese on the nachos,” she told him with a smile.

He sniffed the nachos and pretended to be overcome by the aroma. “Oh, well, in that case…” Then he gave her a stern look. “Two-thirty, no longer. You need to rest.”

To his surprise, she kissed him on the cheek and sang out, “Yes, dear, whatever you say.” Then she danced away to the kitchen.

He grinned at the nachos. She was getting sassy now that she was getting some rest. He liked that. But he suspected she'd have him wrapped around her finger in no time—if she hadn't already.

His mother had told him last night how much she'd enjoyed herself. Amy had always been her favorite daughter-in-law, but already Ginger was a close second. Unfortunately, she'd gone on to say as soon as she gave his mother grandchildren, Ginger would be as much a favorite as Amy.

Those words brought to mind a picture of Ginger holding a redheaded baby in her arms and giving Joe that teasing smile she'd just used. He'd never thought about having children. Now, however, he would give anything to know that his future included Ginger and their children.

Ginger appeared beside him. “I'm ready now. See, it only took twenty minutes. You haven't even finished your nachos.”

“I wanted to save some for you, sweetheart.” He shoved the platter toward her. She slipped into the seat across from him and ate a couple. His hunger had returned and he joined her. In no time, the platter was empty.

“I'll take this to the kitchen and wipe off the table. Then we can go,” she assured him with a grin.

He rose and moved to the hall that led to the parking lot.

Quickly she joined him and slipped her arm in his. “I'm going to wear my new jeans and the dark blue sweater when I get home. Thank you so much for my beautiful new clothes.”

“My pleasure, honey. Since I get to see you in them, it really is my pleasure.” He leaned over and kissed her soft lips.

She made no objection at first. Her lips were soft and sweet and he couldn't help himself. But then she jerked away. “We mustn't do that. There's no one watching.” She pulled her hand away and rushed down the hall in front of him.

Joe didn't try to catch up. Maybe they both needed a little distance.

But when he came through the door and saw the same two men from Tuesday night dragging Ginger toward a nearby car, he changed his mind.

“S
top!” Joe shouted, charging the two men. Movement out of the corner of his eye showed him one of the kitchen workers having a cigarette, staring openmouthed at the situation. “Go call 911! Hurry!”

Ginger appeared to bite one of the men who was trying to hold a handkerchief to her nose. She wobbled a little, but Joe grabbed the other man's arm and jerked him away from Ginger. As he did so, he ordered, “Scream, Ginger, as loud as you can.”

She emitted an earsplitting scream even as she kneed the man yelling at her in protest. The man Joe had hold of managed to send a blow to his jaw, but it glanced off as Joe pulled back. Then Joe got in a belly blow that took the man's breath away. Using his advantage, Joe hit him in the nose. Then he turned to help Ginger.

She, however, had slammed both fists together to the top of the man's head as he'd bent over from her knee attack and he was down on the ground. Ginger ran to Joe, back in his arms again.

“Joe, are you all right?”

“I'm fine. Go inside and find some rope.”

“I don't want to leave you alone!” she exclaimed.

“Don't worry—”

The door opened and several of the men who bussed tables poured out into the parking lot, quickly followed by Harvey Small.

“What's going on out here?” the manager asked.

“These two men were trying to kidnap Ginger. Did you call the police?” Joe asked the man he'd seen earlier.

The man shook his head and looked at Harvey.

“Harvey, tell him to call 911. These men are going to jail.” Joe was ready to throw a few more punches if someone didn't call the police. Harvey looked at him and then nodded to his employee.

After the man hurried back inside, Joe looked at the club manager. “Good decision, Harvey, or you were going to be next.”

“Why would anyone try to kidnap Ginger? She's worked here over a year now without anyone bothering her. This is ridiculous.”

“That's not true. But it doesn't matter. They tried today. If you ask the guy who went to call the police, he'll tell you.”

About that time, the man Joe had fought tried to get up.

“Stay down, or I'm going to hit you again,” Joe warned.

The man ignored him and tried to run for the car. Joe suddenly realized the doors were open and the motor was running. He took a flying leap and landed on the man's back, knocking him to the ground. “Ginger, get the car keys!” he ordered. He didn't think any of the employees were going to help unless
Harvey gave the order, and he didn't have time to wait.

He controlled the man and shouted again for rope. He was afraid the other man would escape because he was recovering a few feet away. The distant sound of sirens encouraged him, however.

Ginger appeared in his view, a heavy skillet in her hand, as she moved to stand over the second man. “If you move, I'll crack your skull. Stay down on the ground.”

Joe almost laughed at Ginger's fierce tone. She always sounded so sweet. He sat on his victim and looked at his gentle wife. “Good job, Ginger.”

“Will Justin be the one who comes?”

“If he's not, we'll call him. These are the two guys from Tuesday night.”

“Yes, I recognize them.”

A sheriff's car screeched to a halt and two men jumped out, one of them drawing his gun. “What's going on?”

Joe got off the man on the pavement and pulled him to his feet. “These two men tried to kidnap my wife.”

“Kidnap? Are you sure?” the deputy asked as he took handcuffs and slapped them on the man.

Joe picked up the handkerchief the other man had tried to hold to Ginger's nose. He gave it to the deputy. “They tried to hold this over her nose. Smell it.”

“Ether. I guess you're right.”

“Yeah. Call Justin Wainwright, please. He asked
us to call him if we saw these characters again. This is the second attempt.”

The other deputy, having cuffed the other man and put him in the back seat of the car, used his radio to request Justin's attention.

Harvey reluctantly invited them to come in for coffee while they waited, but they refused, saying Justin would be there in five minutes.

In the meantime, they wanted to get as much information as possible from Joe and Ginger.

Ginger seemed reluctant to say anything, and Joe had to admit he wasn't sure why they were after Ginger. He was relieved when he heard the siren that signaled Justin's arrival.

After Joe and Ginger confirmed that these were the two men from Tuesday night, Justin sent the deputies back to headquarters with the order to file kidnapping charges against the two men and start questioning them.

Then Justin turned back to Joe. “I think this could be connected to the mob in New York. They obviously had no intention to hurt her…right now. But it's possible there will be other attempts. Why don't you two go stay at Dad's for a few days?”

Ginger gasped and turned pleading eyes to Joe.

He looked at her and then back at Justin. “You think that's necessary?”

“I don't think you should make it easy for them. Ginger needs to have someone with her at all times. And why stay where they know you live?”

“You've got a point. Okay, but we'll go to Mom
and Dad's. It would be too much of an imposition to go to Archy's.”

“You know Dad wouldn't think so. You might keep it in mind for later.” Justin added, “Go pack your things now and get out of there before these guys get cut free by some lawyer.”

“You think they will?” Joe asked in outrage.

“They always do, Joe. Money's no object when it comes to lawyers for the mob. We're going to find out all we can before that happens. I'll let you know how it goes.”

“Right. Thanks, Justin.”

After Justin had driven off, Joe took Ginger's hand. But instead of heading to the car, he led her back into the club to Harvey's office.

“Harvey, Ginger won't be working here anymore. It makes it too easy for someone to find her,” he said.

“You can't do that to me! I don't have enough waitresses as it is!” Harvey protested.

With sarcasm, Joe said, “I think Ginger's safety is more important than people having to wait a little longer for their food. It doesn't matter. We're not offering you a choice. We're telling you how it's going to be.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Small,” Ginger said softly.

Joe was glad she didn't argue with him. She seemed to realize how serious her situation was.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her back out to the car. Once they started to the condo, he said, “When we get back home, gather up
all your new clothes and anything else you want with you. We're going to use your car and leave mine parked there as a decoy.”

“Joe, will I be able to go to school?”

He regretted what he had to say. He'd hoped to improve her life, but that didn't seem to be happening. “Honey, I'm sorry, but I don't see how you can. Until we figure out what's going on, you can't go to school. If things wind up fast, your teachers will take you back. But I can't promise anything.”

She quietly nodded. No tears, no pleading, just acceptance. He squeezed her hand in support and admiration.

Once inside, he did a quick packing job for himself. Then he called his maid Maria's number and left word that they were going out of town for a while. He said he would drop a check in the mail for the month, but she didn't need to come to work. He'd contact her later.

When he checked on Ginger, he found she was trying to pack everything into her two small bags.

“Just leave them in the boxes. I'll stick them in the trunk like that. We'll get some luggage as soon as we can so you can properly pack.”

As she gathered everything up, he went back to the phone. “Mom? Ginger and I need to come over for a few days. I'll explain to you and Dad when we get there. And Mom, you can't tell anyone, even my brothers, that we're there. Okay?”

“Okay,” his mother said, quiet acceptance in her
voice, just like Ginger, though he knew she must be curious.

“Thanks, Mom. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes. I'm going to park in the back.”

“Better the garage, son. Sounds like we need to keep it secret.”

“You're right, Mom. Thanks. We'll see you in a few minutes.”

When he looked for Ginger, he found her in the kitchen. She was packing up some of the groceries they'd bought. “We don't want the groceries to go to waste. Your mother can store and use them while we're there.”

Joe started to tell her to throw them out, but Ginger was right. Besides, the two men couldn't have gotten out of jail this quickly. “I'll start loading the car,” he said.

Fifteen minutes later, they got in the Honda and drove to Joe's childhood home. He pulled into the drive and drove straight through to the garage, which already had the door open.

“Go inside through the back door, honey,” Joe instructed Ginger. “I'll start bringing things in.”

She nodded, as if in accord, but went on her way regardless. She gathered two heavy sacks of groceries and carried them to the door.

Joe smiled and nodded. “You're a good partner, Ginger Turner.”

 

Ginger knocked on the back door and it quickly opened. Mrs. Turner held the door open for her and
then reached for one of the grocery bags. “You brought food?”

“I didn't want it to ruin.” She also didn't want to do the explaining. It seemed a terrible imposition, but Joe seemed to think it would be all right.

She followed the woman to the kitchen and set down her sack. “I'm going to go help Joe bring in our clothes.” She hurried out the back again, only to meet Joe coming in loaded down. “Is there anything else?”

“Yeah, some boxes and your smaller bag.”

“I'll get them. Shall I close the garage door before I come in?”

Mrs. Turner said, “I'll go with you and close up. That garage door opener is tricky. We really need to get a new one.”

When they were all safely back in the house, with their car hidden in the garage, Joe's mother invited them to the kitchen so they could have some coffee and Joe could tell her what was wrong.

“Now,” she said, filling Joe's mug, “what's happened? Are you moving in for a while? You know you're welcome anytime.”

“Thanks, Mom. Um, some men tried to kidnap Ginger today.” She looked alarmed and he felt a shiver run through Ginger, who was sitting very close to him, holding his hand.

“What? Why? What's going on?”

The conversation was halted because Ed Turner came in the back door. “Well, hi, son, Ginger. I didn't know you were coming to visit.”

Vivian Turner repeated Joe's statement to her husband. His reaction was much as hers had been—questions.

Joe held up his hand. “I'm glad you came in, Dad, so I'll only have to explain once.” He told them about the attempt Tuesday night, about Ginger calling her mother. Then the call he'd received, and Justin's recommendation. “He suggested we go to Archy's, but I'd rather stay here if y'all don't mind. I think Ginger will be more comfortable here.”

“But, Joe,” Ginger protested, “it might put them in danger. I hadn't thought of that until now. Maybe I should just…go away.” She paused, as if thinking about her options. “Yes, I think that's what I should do. I can move to another town and—and hide. They won't find me.”

The Turners stared at her. Then Vivian said, “But Joe is your husband, and we are your family. Of course you can't go. You two need to be together.”

Ed nodded. “That's right.”

Tears filled Ginger's eyes. “You don't have to—”

“Yes, they do, sweetheart. You're not going away. You're my wife and I'm going to protect you.”

“With our help,” Vivian added.

 

Joe suggested Ginger go lie down and rest. Her face was still paler than normal.

His mother took Ginger's arm and led her to the stairs. “I've put you in Joe's old bedroom. But it's not a museum. I've updated it and it's become our best guest room.”

“I'm sure it will be fine, Mrs. Turner. It's so nice of you to offer to help.”

Vivian stared at her. “Nice? It's what families do. And call me Vivian, child. That's what all my daughters-in-law call me. That way I don't feel so old,” she added with a teasing grin. Before Ginger could respond, Vivian added, “And now is when you tell me I'm not old. I love that part.”

Ginger smiled, relaxing for the first time since the incident at the club. “Of course you're not old.”

“Nicely done, child. Now, put your feet up and rest. I'm making a special dinner. We're celebrating tonight.”

“What are we celebrating?” Ginger asked, confused.

“That we're all safe and together. That's a lot to be grateful for.” Vivian leaned over and kissed Ginger's cheek before opening the nearest door. Then she turned and went back down the stairs.

Ginger stared after her. Vivian had an elevated vision of family. Her mother was one of the reasons Ginger was having difficulties now. It hurt to admit it, but her mother had caused the two men to attack her. She'd called back and found out the town she lived in. All because Ginger had been concerned about the beatings her mother said she had received. Now Ginger wondered if her mother had lied about the beatings, too.

Whatever her mother had done in the past, Ginger had never believed her mother would betray her in such a way.

But she had.

Vivian Turner was a different kind of mother. The kind of mother little girls dreamed about. Not the kind Ginger had experienced. Her mother had frequently worked as a prostitute, always to keep a roof over their heads, her mother had told her. And Ginger had believed her. Now she wasn't so sure. It had taken a lot of money to buy an American husband.