Out of Uniform (Wingmen Warriors #14)
Page 16As she snagged a can from his refrigerator, Dee heard the front door to the lobby blast open. She swallowed a sip and hollered, “Hold on a minute. I’ll be right out.”
Dee nudged the refrigerator door shut with her hip. In the lobby, she found Chase hovering behind the counter. “Sorry, Chase, but they had to go on without you. Jacob said for you to meet them at the base. If you leave now, you can probably make it before the ground crew heads out.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He jammed his hands in his pockets, his baggy camouflage pants riding low from the extra pressure.
She waited, but he didn’t move. “They’re only about ten minutes ahead of you. Maybe you can call on the cell phone and ask them to wait.”
“I’ll just skip this one.”
Dee chewed her lip to keep from dishing out a lesson on following through with responsibilities. “You could hang out with Emily. I think Madison is already asleep.”
Chase shuffled from foot to foot. “Nah, no need. I’ll just hit the road.”
Her bottom lip was getting a real workout tonight. Rather than argue with Chase, she decided to phone his mother after he left. “Good night, then.”
“’Night.” He brushed past, his hip bumping the half-open cash register drawer.
Dee stared at the drawer, trying to deny what she knew to be true. She’d closed it after making change. She wouldn’t have been so careless as to leave the drawer hanging open.
Chase couldn’t have possibly…She cast a furtive glance at the teen crossing to the door.
Instinct told her he most certainly had.
Popping open the drawer the rest of the way, she looked inside. The slot that should have held a stack of twenties now contained a lone bill, as if someone hadn’t wanted to be so obvious as to empty out the space. “Hey, Chase. Hold on a sec.”
His jerky look back over his shoulder, the defensive glint in his eyes, confirmed her fears. He’d lifted money from the cash register.
Jacob would be livid. Hell, she was livid. She couldn’t even bear to consider what this meant for Emily and Madison.
She reacted with her heart rather than her head, wanting to save Jacob from knowing. “Put the money back, Chase, and we can let this go.”
With a snap of his head, he flicked a hank of walnut hair from his face. The defensive glint evaporated, a belligerent glare taking its place. “What money?”
“I’m not stupid, so don’t act like I am. Put it back.”
Chase sauntered forward. Smugness mushroomed from his every step like an insidious threat. “Even if there was money missing, how’s Jacob gonna know you didn’t take it?”
He stopped almost toe-to-toe with her. The lobby suddenly seemed small…and deserted. Wind moaned through the eaves while Dee struggled not to flinch. How could she and Jacob both have misjudged this kid?
Chase didn’t look much like a kid at the moment.
“Fine, Chase. We’ll play this your way.” She pivoted away to dismiss him, cowardly, maybe, but she wanted him out of the lobby. Now. She reached for the phone.
His hand fell on her shoulder. Dee’s stomach lurched as if she’d taken a wrong turn off a mountain curve.
Show no fear. Regardless of how he looked he was just a kid. Pull out the adult authority, put him in his place and get him out the door.
Dee plastered her best “schoolmarm frown” in place and shrugged his hand loose. “Chase, step back.”
His bravado slipped. Dee almost sagged with relief—until his eyes narrowed with a male arrogance meant to intimidate, insult.
The phone stopped ringing.
Where was the child who’d swung a shovel at snowballs? The boy who’d chased his girlfriend through the snow, the young man who held his baby tenderly?
Chase ambled forward, forcing her to retreat until the backs of her legs pressed against the computer chair. He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant or in any way childish. “You have quite a rep around here thanks to all the gossip. No secrets in this town. People aren’t sure what to think of your whacky amnesia claim. You’re not in any position to be talking trash about me.”
His eyes journeyed a slow drag down her body and back up again, lingering on strategic places.
A shiver trickled down Dee’s spine like a melting icicle. Without another word, she pushed past him. Maybe she could lock herself in Jacob’s apartment. Chase’s hand snaked out. He grabbed her shirtfront.
“Not so fast.” He twisted the fabric, yanking her forward. “Where do you think you’re going?”
The chill iced all the way through her veins.
Where do you think you’re going?
His words echoed in her head, deeper pitched.
Where do you think you’re going?
A Midwestern twang sounded, rather than Chase’s local lilt.
Fear gripped her tighter than Chase’s fist on her shirt. Dee’s feet tangled. The shirt pulled taut. Panic frothed, higher, higher still, until she screamed. Couldn’t stop screaming. “No!”
“Calm down.” Chase eyed her warily. His hold on her still unrelenting, he shook her. “Don’t get wigged out or anything. Hey now—”
—not so fast, growled the Midwesterner’s voice, a voice from her past.
Dee jerked. Buttons popped from her shirt. She backed away, her steps clumsy and haphazard, until she slammed against the soda machine. Her teeth jarred. She slithered to the floor and huddled, teeth chattering.
In her mind, other buttons popped loose. Coat buttons. She swallowed back the nausea and watched pearl buttons spiral across the tile until they blurred into larger, black buttons from her coat.
Pain slashed behind her eyes like a needle piercing her skin. White-hot, then frighteningly cold, like a deep sleep or even death. Through the pain emerged a suffocating gush of memories.
She remembered her name.
She remembered her child. Her son.
Both of which might have been cause for rejoicing. Except nausea choked her as, God help her, she remembered her husband.
Chapter 11
J acob tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, eager to return to the Lodge, to Dee.
The rescue operation had been canceled fifteen minutes out of Rockfish. The missing plane had simply been diverted because of weather. The pilot hadn’t closed out his flight plan, and the alert had gone up. Of course, ninety percent of all missing aircraft ended in the same sort of scenario, so Jacob wasn’t surprised. Just mildly annoyed at the waste of Civil Air Patrol time.
And the lost evening with Dee, a chance to explore whatever had started changing between them.
The urge to see her crept over him. A quick call to the Lodge to find Chase wouldn’t be out of line. Jacob pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and punched in the number. Five rings later, he disconnected. Why wasn’t Dee picking up? Could things be that swamped?
He stared ahead at the approaching lodge and the lot looked sparse as usual. Jacob slowed, headlights sweeping ahead as he pulled in beside Chase’s vehicle. Emily would be glad for the extra time together. Jacob looked into the lobby, but didn’t see Dee behind the desk.
Hmm…Odd. He opened the truck door.
A muffled scream filtered through the Lodge window. Followed by another. Then unending pain-filled cries.
Dee. Dread coldcocked him just before old instincts rammed into overdrive.
His boots slammed to the icy pavement at a dead run. He skidded toward the motel office. A couple of doors down, Emily poked her head out of her suite of rooms.
He vaulted up the steps two at a time, through the door and came chest-to-chest with Chase, who was leaving. “Chase? What’s going on?”
Jacob didn’t wait for the answer as he sidestepped to find Dee. Her screams dwindled to a low whimper. She sat with her back against the soda machine, her arms locked around her knees, hands fisted so tightly they trembled. Her eyes stared wide and unfocused.
“Dee?”
She fell silent, gasping big hiccuping breaths. Footsteps filled the silence. Chase shuffled his feet. Emily skidded to a halt in the doorway. Jacob motioned silently for her to stay back.
He approached Dee warily. She’d never looked so fragile, not even when the wind had swept her into the lobby for the first time.
Why had he ever left her alone? “Chase, what the hell’s going on?”
“I don’t know, man. She just freaked out.” Chase backed toward the door until he bumped into Emily, still waiting on the threshold. Jaw slack, she gawked at Dee.
Go easy. “Dee, honey. Talk. You’re scaring me.”
She turned those wide, wounded eyes to him, but didn’t seem to see him. Never once had he seen her lose it, not when she had a truckload of reasons for turning into a basket case. Something bad must have gone down. Suddenly he wasn’t too steady, either.
“It’s okay. Just breathe.” Jacob stroked her hair, then tucked a knuckle under her chin. His hand bumped her fist—her fist clutching her torn shirt closed. Buttons littered the floor around her.
An opaque curtain of denial fogged Jacob’s mind. No way. He couldn’t be seeing what he thought. But Chase had been running away from Dee, not toward her.
Jacob scooped a button from the tile. “Chase?”
The lanky teen glanced from the button, to Dee’s blouse and back to Jacob. Chase’s eyes widened. “Uh-uh. Not a chance. It’s not what you think. She flipped out, just the way I said. I tried to keep her from going outside without a coat. That’s how her shirt got ripped.”
“Then why were you running away when I got here?”
Chase hesitated. “Uh, I saw you drive up.”
Jacob wanted to believe him, but his instincts clamored that Chase wasn’t telling everything—shuffling feet, refusal to make eye contact, all the typical signs of lying. Jacob’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to wrap his mind around the possibility that Chase had assaulted Dee, or even tried.
A glance at Dee told him she was still out of it. He needed answers from Chase before he could help her. Jacob pinned Chase with an interrogator’s gaze and continued smoothing a hand along Dee’s hair. “Be straight with me now, or you can talk to the police.”
Emily gasped, stepping forward. Jacob kept his eyes on Chase but directed his words toward his sister. “Emily, go back to your room and take care of Madison.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wave the nursery monitor but didn’t advance deeper inside.
“Police?” Chase eyed the door hungrily. “I didn’t do anything to her. She’s just acting or something. Come on, man, you know me. Who’s she, anyway, huh? Just some nutcase claiming she has amnesia.”
“Enough.” Jacob sliced the air with his hand. “Last chance, Chase. The truth.”
“Okay.” The teen fidgeted, gulped, tugged at his sagging pants and gulped again. “I hate to tell you this, but when I got here, I found her taking a stack of money out of your cash drawer.”
Jacob’s hand stilled. His mind turned white-hot. For all of two seconds. Then reason kicked in. Dee wouldn’t steal from him. He wished he could attribute the surety to trust, but logic had saved him from the test. If cleaning him out had been her plan, she could have done so a hundred times over. She was the type who turned over pocket change found in linens while cleaning.
But what about Chase? Jacob could see it in the boy’s eyes, and the realization made him sick for Emily. He resumed stroking Dee’s hair while he studied the signs of guilt stamped all over Chase.
The kid had stolen from him. Jacob swallowed the bilious sting of disappointment. “Empty your pockets.”