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Authors: Stephanie Bond

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I Think I Love You (37 page)

BOOK: I Think I Love You
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She hung up the phone and gave the news to Cissy, whose eyelids were already fluttering. Regina kissed her mother's cheek and dimmed the lights, then retreated to the hall. Mitchell was fastening the deadbolt on the front door.

"I checked all the windows and doors."

"Thanks." She sat down on the top step and told him about her mother's revelations. When he heard about Sheriff Shadowen's alleged liaison with Lyla, his jaw hardened. "I guess I'll be talking with the sheriff again tomorrow."

She studied his wide-legged stance and marveled at the sense of security his presence gave her. Was she grasping at emotional straws? "You don't have to do all this, you know."

He shrugged. "I have this hang-up about justice."

She looked at him and conceded calmly that she wouldn't mind being Mitchell Cooke's hang-up. "Are you finished with the appraisals?"

"Except for a few items in the shop, maybe a half-day's work. I'll ask the sheriff tomorrow how soon I can get back inside."

The silence stretched between them, and her nerves sang at the intimacy of the atmosphere.

Mitchell felt it, too. He rubbed his neck, then jerked his thumb in the direction of the family room. "I thought I'd bunk down on the couch. It'll be easier to keep an eye on things."

She nodded, glad he hadn't asked to sleep in her bed because she wasn't sure what she would've said. "Where's Sam?"

He smiled. "Already zonked out."

"I'll get you some sheets."

"No need," he assured her. "Try to get some rest."

She nodded and pushed to her feet, contemplating the world's longest hot shower. Maybe things would be better tomorrow.

And then again, maybe not.

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

DO forgive and forget, but keep a list just in case.

 

Justine moaned. Someone had turned her body inside out and set it on fire.

"Justine, can you hear me?"

Mica. She creaked open one eye. Her sister was sitting in a chair, wearing a floppy hat, leaning toward her.

"You're in the hospital," she said. "We brought you in last night—you have nutmeg poisoning."

Which would explain the unspeakable taste in her mouth and the inferno in her stomach.

"You gave me quite a scare when I found you."

Mica had found her and actually called for help?

"But the doctor says you'll be fine in a couple of days."

She moved her head a millimeter and twin bombs detonated in her temples. "Ohhhhhh."

"Easy. Want some ice chips?"

She managed to nod. She was in a tidy private room of mauves and taupes, with a rumpled cot pushed against the wall. Mica held a little plastic container to her mouth and put ice chips on her lips. Justine flicked out her tongue to take them and studied her sister's face—pale, sleep-smudged, and exquisite.

She tried out her voice. "Did... you... sleep here?"

Mica nodded and kept feeding her ice. "It gave me plenty of time to really soak you in, and to think." Her eyes filled with tears. "I've treated you so abominably, Justine. I don't blame you for hating me, but do you think you could ever forgive me?"

She kept taking the chips and letting them dissolve on her parched tongue. One part of her wanted to scream that now that Dean was gone, apologies were cheap. But Regina's words still weighed heavily on her heart.

There's been enough hurt in this family
...
you could end it.

And hadn't she taken her revenge tenfold when she'd destroyed her sister's identity and career with one slice of the shears?

Justine's own eyes teared over, and twelve years of emotion came spilling out. "I... was angry when you left with Dean... but Dean was the one I hated." She choked. "For taking my sister away from me. I knew things would never be the same between you and me."

Mica was a beautiful crier, dammit. She buried her face in Justine's neck and sobbed until Justine felt her sister's tears pool to the back of her nape and soak into the pillow. "There now," she murmured, and instinctively moved to stroke her sister's hair. When she didn't encounter the silky mass of black waves, the enormity of her own cruelty slammed into her. Her throat ached with unshed tears. "Can you forgive me for cutting your gorgeous hair?"

Mica nodded against her neck, and they both dissolved into ridiculous tears. Ridiculous that they had allowed their relationship to languish for so long. So many missed moments, so much to make up for.

A knock on the door sounded, and Mica sat up, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I'll get it. It's probably Pete—he guarded your door all night in case that crazy Crane woman showed up."

Justine tried to mop up her own tears, but her arms felt like lead planks. Mica opened the door and held a whispered conversation with a man, then slipped outside. When the door opened, a burly guy in a blue uniform filled the doorway. She frowned in disbelief. "Lando?"

"In the flesh," he said with a big smile. He walked over and set a plant on the window sill.

She pulled at the sheet self-consciously to cover the paper-thin, split-up-the-back rag that hospitals make a person wear. "What are you doing here?"

"Sheriff Shadowen called last night to tell me about the car explosion and said that you... were ill. I thought I'd better come down myself and see if Lisa Crane might be hanging around."

"Did you find her?"

"No."

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to the spiky plant.

"Aloe vera. I don't think even you could kill it. Plus it's great for burns and skin abrasions, which I figured might come in handy since you're so prone to trouble."

She wet her lips—she knew she looked like hell. "Do you think the Crane woman was behind the car explosion?"

"I just don't know. The sheriff tells me you're in the middle of all kinds of interesting situations."

She swallowed past her raw throat—her family was in shambles and she hadn't helped matters by pulling this stunt. To her horror, she burst into tears.

Lando's eyes widened; then he sat next to the bed. He awkwardly patted her foot through the sheet and made comforting noises in his throat. "Everything's going to be okay, you just wait and see." He handed her a tissue, but her arms refused to cooperate. Undaunted, he wiped her eyes, the picture of calm.

"My father," she croaked. "We can't find him."

"Yes, I heard. You care a lot about your family, don't you?"

She nodded against the pillow and swallowed more tears.

"I suspected there was a heart somewhere under that crust."

She smiled, confounded by his attention, and confused by her own feelings when she looked at this ordinary man who seemed to have such extraordinary insight. His features were mediocre at best, but his eyes were kind and his smile ready.

"I'd better go and let you rest," he said. "But I'll stop in again before I leave town."

She nodded.

"Take care of yourself better this time."

She nodded.

He left and she stared at the aloe vera plant for a very long time. It was grocery store variety, the plastic pot covered with green foil, and tied with a plastic yellow ribbon. Tacky beyond belief, yet remarkably beautiful. For the first time in a long time, a sliver of optimism made its way into her heart.

The door opened and she turned her head carefully, expecting Mica and a boatload of questions. Instead, her heart surged in her chest.

It was Mica, all right but on her arm was their father, looking remarkably clean-shaven and alert. She lifted her hand to him and the blasted tears came back again. "Daddy."

"Justine," he murmured, and hugged her gently. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"I'll be fine.
Where
have you been?"

He pulled back but clasped her limp hand to his cheek. "Doing what I should've done years ago—drying out. Seems like I picked a pretty lousy time to check myself into a clinic, though."

"You've been in a rehab clinic?"

He nodded.

She closed her eyes in sweet relief. That explained a lot of things.

"Dean was right," he said. "I've been a drunk most of my life, standing on the periphery of my family. I knew I had to get sober and make it up to you girls. Especially to you, Justine. I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

She bit into her hp. "You know about Dean?"

"Yeah. This morning was the first time the clinic would allow me to make a phone call. I called Cissy to let her know where I was, and she told me the entire story. I had to come and see you first. What you all must have gone through."

"We were worried about you."

The door opened and Deputy Pete walked in with a rueful expression. "Gotta take you in now, John."

"Thanks, Pete, for letting me see my girl first." He gave her a sad smile. "See you soon."

"They're arresting you?"

"Just taking him into custody," Pete said, clasping John by the arm. "At least until we can verify his alibi."

"Everything will be fine," John assured her with unnatural calm as Pete clicked on the handcuffs and led him toward the door.

"Is Officer Lando still here?" she asked Pete.

"No, he left." He gave her a little smile. "But don't worry about the Crane woman—hospital security has been alerted, and I'll be right back."

She lay back on the pillow, feeling utterly vulnerable.

 

 

 

Chapter 32

 

DO be concerned when he wants to talk.

 

Mica smiled up at Everett. "This is a nice surprise."

He shrugged. "After you called, I thought maybe you could use a ride home before I left to catch my plane."

She looked back to the closed door to Justine's hospital room and wavered. "I just spoke to Regina, and I told her I'd wait for her and Mom to come by." She sighed. "But Justine is sleeping so soundly. And I wouldn't mind a shower."

"Let me take you home; then you can freshen up and ride back with them."

"Good idea." She rummaged in her purse. "Let me call Regina."

"Oh, I'll practically have you home in the time it would take to call."

"Okay." She shouldered her purse. "This will give us a chance to brainstorm about my career. Have you thought of a way to get me—us—out of this jam?"

"I believe so."

His voice was cautious, his expression unreadable.

He didn't want to get her hopes up, but her hopes climbed anyway. "What's your idea?"

He gave her a tight smile and swept his arm in front of her. "Why don't we talk about it in the car?"

 

 

 

Chapter 33

 

DO recognize that some men are snakes.

 

Regina hugged Cissy. "See? I told you not to give up on Daddy."

Cissy puffed out her cheeks in joyous relief. Regina was heartened not only by the color in Cissy's cheeks but also by the love she saw shining in her eyes—love for John. Maybe there was hope for their relationship after all.

Then Cissy sobered. "Mica said that Pete took John into custody."

"But when they check out his alibi, they'll have to let him go." She looked to Mitchell for confirmation, but he glanced down at the coffee cup he held. "What?" she asked. "What are you thinking?"

BOOK: I Think I Love You
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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