Part 4 (2/2)
”Be my guest,” she said when he lifted a brow.
”Guess I will.” He devoured half with one bite. ”Grady wasn't special inanything,” he continued, after wolfing down the remaining bite. ”Unless youcall s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up, in which case he was A number one.”
Outside, a siren wailed, and in the distance a dog joined in with an off-keyhowl.
”He told me once that he sometimes wished he'd been born crippled instead ofdyslexic,” she admitted. ”He said that when you had a visible handicap, peoplecut you some slack, but he just came across as stupid.”
”Which he's not,” Flynn said quietly.
”Yes, anything but.” Grady could add a column of figures in his head fasterthan she could total them on a ten-key. He could remember the lyrics to songshe'd only heard once or twice. And he could read the needs of her body withthe sensitivity that took her breath.
Riastood up, too agitated suddenly to sit still. Heart pounding, she stalkedpast him to retrieve the coffeepot from the warmer.
She was just about to refill the mug he extended when the phone rang. Theanswering machine picked up on the second ring.
”Aren't you going to answer?” Flynn asked over the drone of her terse message.
”Not unless I have to. I'm on vacation, remember?”
”Ree, are you there?”
At the sound of Grady's distinctly husky voice, she froze, her gaze dartingto Flynn's. Before she could move, Grady spoke again. ”Brace yourself honey,okay? It's about Jimmy.”
”Do you hear the Charger?”
Without waiting for an answer,Ria jumped up from the easy chair by thefireplace she'd never used and crossed the living room to the bay windowoverlooking the street.
”Grady has different wheels these days,” Flynn said from the sofa where he'dbeen for the past hour, playing solitaire on the coffee table.
Astonished,Ria turned to find him watching her with hooded eyes. ”Where's theCharger?”
”He sold it and put the money in the reward fund. These days he drives abanged-up pickup he'd bought from impound and fixed up.”
She took a careful breath before returning her gaze to the emptythoroughfare. Grady had spent hundreds of hours rebuilding the muscle car fromthe cha.s.sis up. In many ways he and his speed machine were exactly alike. Big,fast. Potentially lethal.
She remembered the first time she'd seen him climb out of that car and stalk toward her. She'd been working her way through grad school waiting tables inan Italian restaurant at night and on weekends. When one of her fellowwaitresses had been raped,Ria had been dismayed to discover just how pitifullylimited the resources for rape victims had been.
Consequently she and Kate, who'd been in her first year of med school, hadhelped found a hotline for victims. In order to raise money, one of thesororities had come up with the idea of a calendar featuring local hunks. Oneof Grady's younger brothers,Davon , had been dating a member of that sororityand, as a prank, had given them Grady's picture to use.
It had been taken one hot day in August when he'd been practicing with hisgrandfather's old Carbine. He'd been wearing threadbare cutoffs that barelycovered his tight b.u.t.tocks and a Lafayette PD ball cap pulled down low. Hishuge chest had been bare and sweat glistened on the curve of broad shoulders, running in meandering rivulets over the hard-packed musculature of his uppertorso.
The photographer had caught him in the act of slipping sh.e.l.ls into thechamber, his eyes narrowed against the sun as he'd looked up, his mouth asplit second into a grin. One big hand caressed the barrel of his rifle in apose so eroticRia had felt the impact all the way to the soles of her rattyold sneakers.
A feeling like a warm melting sigh ran through her as she remembered the wayher mouth had gone dry and her hands had curled around the stiff glossy paper.
The calendar had sold out. Mr. August had become an instant favorite.Ria hadbeen on the phone when he'd come charging into the hotline's cramped office,brandis.h.i.+ng the calendar, his jaw hard and his brown eyes sparking withoutrage.
He was being ragged within an inch of his control by his fellow officers,he'd bellowed at her the instant she'd hung up. All because of a d.a.m.n picturetaken two years earlier and used without his permission.
Because she was alone and a little intimidated, she'd jerked her spine alittle taller and ripped into him.
”So what?” she challenged. ”It's for a good cause. Or don't you care?”
His tawny brows drew together, and his chin came up. ”h.e.l.l, yes, I care.That's not the point.”
”Then what is?”
”I'm a cop, d.a.m.n it. It's tough enough going against bad guys who've gotbetter firepower and faster cars, without having a d.a.m.n suspect drooling allover the arresting officer.”
She fought the grin that tickled the corners of her mouth. ”You have bad guysdrooling over you?”
His mouth slanted just enough to tease a shallow dimple into one lean cheek.”More like one professionally badgirl I busted on the stroll near the busstation. Gave me this come-hither grin before going on and on about how Augustwas her favorite month, it being so hot and all. Offered me a freebie-and thenslapped my b.u.t.t when I was giving her the Miranda.”
Riachoked on a laugh. ”Did it hurt?”
”Only my dignity. It so happened the duty sergeant saw the whole thing.” Hisvoice was more rough than resonant and was lashed with something that soundedsuspiciously like humor.
She knew now she'd started falling in love with him at that moment. And whenhe'd asked her for a date, she'd accepted.
After the divorce she'd tossed the calendar in the trash, then got up in themiddle of the night to retrieve it from the barrel she'd already set out forpickup. It was in the bottom of the trunk where she stored her wool sweaters.
She drew a ragged sigh. ”He told me he'd be here in two hours,” she said a.s.she paced back to the chair she'd just left. ”It's been two hours and tenminutes.”
”Maybe he got stuck in traffic.” He put a red nine on a black ten.
”At 1:00 a.m.?”
Flynn turned over the last card, frowned, then let out a long-suffering sighbefore admitting defeat. ”Are you sure I can't fix you a drink?”
”I'm too nervous. It'll just make me sick.”
”Wine then?” he suggested, shuffling with the easy skill of a Vegas dealer.”I saw some Grand Marnier behind the Scotch. How about a couple of fingers totake the edge off?”
”The only thing to do that will be seeing my baby again.”
The cards slapped the table's gla.s.s top in a steady rhythm as he laid out thehand. Only then did he glance up.
”Ria, remember what Grady told you? The boy doesn't have any memory of hislife before he was abducted.”
”Not consciously, maybe. But I've saved all of his things. His books, hisMatchbox cars. His Pooh bear.” She nodded, folded her arms across her middleand nodded again. ”You'll see. He can't help but remember Pooh.”
His dark eyes held hers, his expression a little pitying. ”He thinks his nameis Steven Wilson.” He paused to add far more gently, ”He didn't recognize hisown dad or the picture of you Grady had in his wallet.”
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