Back Against the Wall Read online

  Seeing gauze taped to her knees had him gritting his teeth again. Bruises were forming, too, and he’d seen her wince as she stuck her hands through the arms of the shirt. Had the doctor X-rayed both wrists to look for additional broken bones?

  He piled pillows behind her and pulled up the covers. “Let me get some water so you can take some more of your meds.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “Are...you going to sleep with me?”

  “I am, if you don’t have any objection.”

  She relaxed. “No. I’m not sure how well I’d sleep if I was alone.”

  Tony shook his head, smiling. “I think once this pain pill hits, you’ll be out like a light.”

  At her request, he also brought her a couple of soda crackers, which she nibbled without a crumb escaping, as far as he could tell.

  “The sister I checked on tonight, Eloisa, seems to be living on crackers right now. Like I said, she’s having trouble keeping anything down. Her doctor recommended them.”

  “See?” Despite everything, she appeared to be teasing him. “They’re the best medicine.”

  Once she finished the crackers and set the glass on the bedside stand, Tony sat on the edge of the mattress, close enough to smooth her hair back from her forehead. He used fingertips and thumbs to massage her temples, careful to avoid touching the beginnings of a bruise on her jaw. Beth turned her face into his hand, her eyes sinking shut.

  Only when he felt her body go lax did he leave her long enough to check the locks on the front and back doors, as well as the windows, and to use the bathroom. Then he stripped, leaving neatly folded clothes on a rocking chair in her room and laying his gun and phone on the bedside stand. It looked like she usually slept on that side, but he needed to be within arm’s reach of his weapon. He turned off the lamp and slid beneath the covers, half lifting her a few feet over.

  When he eased his arm beneath her neck, she made a small sound and turned to nestle her head on his shoulder as if she’d done it a thousand times. As if this was where she belonged. The casted arm she rested across his belly and chest, the plaster cold to his bare skin.

  He smiled in the darkness, foreseeing the thing getting badly in the way when he made love with her.

  Better think of it as having sex. Love...wasn’t yet on the table.

  Tenderness he couldn’t deny he felt. And, damn, he’d been scared when he’d understood that Beth had been attacked, that her life had been saved by a cheap rubber sandal.

  Thank God for flip-flops.

  He breathed in the citrus scent of her hair and closed his own eyes. He was here to keep her safe, which was what counted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  LEANING BACK AGAINST Beth’s kitchen counter, Tony cocked his head when he thought he heard her stirring. Nope, only quiet. Beth had had a restless period in the middle of the night when the pain meds wore off, but once the second pill she swallowed kicked in, she’d been sleeping like—

  Not the dead, damn it. Soundly.

  Enough coffee had brewed for him to fill his mug. He’d no sooner done so than his phone vibrated. He sighed and, taking the phone, moved toward the back of the townhouse. As he opened the back door and stepped out, he answered his phone.

  “Mamá.”

  He’d tried Mom when he was in his defiant teenage stage. It hadn’t gone over well. His mother was entirely American, a modern woman when it suited her and not when it didn’t.

  Without so much as saying hello, she launched in, voice sharp. “You didn’t call me. You couldn’t find the time, even when you knew I was worried?”

  “Eloisa is fine.”

  “I know that now because she called a few minutes ago. I hardly slept a wink,” she scolded, “imagining her unconscious on the floor, Jaime crying and trying to wake up his mamá. Would it have been so hard for you to take one minute—”

  When he’d first returned to Frenchman Lake after his father’s death, Tony had been patient with his family. Everyone sticking their noses in each other’s business, the lack of privacy or time alone, those were familiar enough to him, and he’d become accustomed to that again. These past few months his patience had eroded, and he didn’t even know why.

  Now he snapped, “Eloisa told you why I left, didn’t she? Why can’t you understand that my job has to come ahead of calling my mother to soothe her nerves?”

  “How can you talk to me this way? Didn’t your papá and I teach you to respect your parents?”

  He tipped his head back to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t mean to be insulting, Mamá. A woman who is a witness in a murder investigation I’m conducting was attacked last night, almost killed. I would have let you know if I couldn’t get to Eloisa’s to check on her. Is it unreasonable to expect you to trust that I did go?”

  “A call would have taken you so little time.”

  He was in no mood for this. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed and held the phone a couple inches from his ear. Still, he heard her.

  “Where have you been all week? None of us has seen you. With Carlos away, didn’t you promise to mow Eloisa’s yard? She’s counting on you.”

  Actually, Mamá had promised he would. And his sister’s dry lawn, at the height of summer, could wait until Carlos returned.

  “My lieutenant counts on me, too,” he said. “I’m expected to work as many hours as I need to on an investigation. The woman who came close to having her head bashed in is counting on me, too.” He wanted to say And I deserve a life of my own, with time for a girlfriend, but he didn’t. The slightest hint and Mamá would insist he bring Beth to a big family dinner so they could all meet her. The idea made him cringe. “Sometimes, unimportant things like mowing a lawn need to wait.”

  “And calling me? That is unimportant, too?”

  He loved his mother. He did. But right now, it took all he had to say, “I drove fast on the way to the hospital. It was no time to make phone calls. I’ve apologized.”

  “When will I see you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I have to go, Mamá. I’m at the witness’s home and need to speak to her.”

  “Very well. I’ll wait until you have time for me.” Guilt inserted like a stiletto, she hung up on him.

  He muttered an obscenity and turned to go back inside. That’s when he saw Beth standing only a few feet away, close enough to have heard every word.

  Hugging her cast to her body, looking very alone, she said, “The witness?”

  * * *

  HE HADN’T HEARD her padding barefoot into the kitchen. Beth almost immediately realized who he was talking to. And she’d heard him call her a witness twice.

  Yes, it stung.

  “I was already irritated enough,” he said. “This wasn’t the moment to mention that I’m seeing a woman.”

  Not having known Tony quite a week, she should let this go. But...witness? Who—oh, by the way—he’d slept with?

  So she said tartly, “Aren’t you usually seeing a woman?”

  “Damn it, don’t make this into something it isn’t,” he said irritably, closing the door and walking right past her into the kitchen. “And, no, I don’t tell my mother when I’m involved with someone. She’d insist on meeting her, then interfering.”

  “But you know my family.”

  “They’re not like mine. Anyway, I’ve met them on the job, not because of any personal relationship.”

  That was true but painfully brought home that he’d met her on the job, too. From his point of view, instead of “friends with benefits,” this might qualify as an extra job benefit.

  She opened a drawer and took out a plastic kitchen trash bag to cover her cast. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  He didn’t follow her. Even humiliatingly aware she might no
t be able to get her bra on or the tank top she intended to wear over the cast, Beth was not going to ask him for help.

  She should have gone home with Matt. A teacher, Ashley had the summer off. The two of them had always gotten along well. Ashley wouldn’t have minded helping.

  It’s not too late, Beth thought. She’d rather stay home—but this thing was miserably unwieldy, and she hurt. It was Tony’s pampering she wanted, not her sister-in-law’s, but Ashley was family.

  Trying to keep the spray from getting inside the plastic bag made showering awkward. Plus, she should have taken the next pain pill before the shower.

  On getting out, she discovered that twisting a towel into place on her head was a challenge with one hand. She couldn’t really dry her back, either.

  And, oh, she hated feeling sorry for herself.

  Then don’t.

  Beth stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror before struggling into panties and stretchy pants. Lightheaded before she was done, she sank onto the closed toilet seat and bent forward.

  At a tap on the door, she straightened. “Yes?”

  “Can I come in?”

  The least he could do was fasten her damn bra. “Sure.”

  He came in and crouched in front of her, eyes a dark chocolate, expression rueful. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. What you tell your mother is your business.” Beth reached for her bra. “If you wouldn’t mind fastening this...”

  He took it from her, helping her maneuver her cast through the opening, then scoop her breasts into the cups. He got a few sneaky caresses in there, before she leaned forward again so he could hook it closed.

  “Shirt?”

  “I’m just going to wear a tank top today.”

  He managed to slip it on her without jarring her arm, a minor miracle. When he finished that, he gave her head a rub with the towel and brushed her wet hair for her.

  “Shall I leave it loose?”

  “Do you know how to braid?”

  His mouth quirked. “Remember all those little sisters?” He deftly began.

  Picturing him getting half a dozen little girls ready for school in the morning, hair braided or decorated, made her smile.

  He did the same. “That’s better. Now, come on. I’ve already poured your coffee and set out your pill.”

  “I need to get to the pharmacy,” she remembered.

  “No, I already called to be sure the prescription is ready. Once we have breakfast, I’ll run over and pick it up.”

  His consideration pulled her out of the last of her sulkiness.

  A few minutes later, he set a plate with scrambled eggs and toast in front of her, then sat down with his own serving.

  “I don’t love the idea of leaving you home alone today,” he said.

  She let her eyes meet his. “I was thinking I should probably take Matt up on his offer.” She shook her head when he opened his mouth. “His wife has the summer off. I imagine I’ll be feeling better in another day or two, and I’m sure I’ll figure out how to get dressed once I quit hurting so much. In the meantime, you have more important things to do than babysit me.”

  “What if I drop you off there just for the day?”

  Beth hesitated. “Tony...are you sure?” She waited, knowing he understood she wasn’t asking only about today.

  He reached across the table for her hand. “Positive.”

  “Fine. Although...maybe I should go to Dad’s instead. He must need company by now.”

  Tony didn’t look thrilled but finally said, “Up to you. I need to talk to him about the drawing, anyway.”

  “Let’s do that, then.”

  “Call and make sure he’ll be there.”

  Beth wondered how much use her father would be in defending her against an attack. Sobering thought.

  He answered right away, his grave voice betraying some alarm. “Emily just called, hysterical. She said you were attacked?”

  “I was.” She looked at Tony, who nodded. “Detective Navarro thinks the guy who came after me might be the same man who killed Mom.” The formal reference to Tony barely out, guilt poked at her. Her father had met Tony, yes, but she’d lied to Dad about having any personal relationship with him. Of course, her reasons were different from his for not wanting to introduce her to his family.

  At her father’s urging, she gave a synopsis, then said, “Actually, the detective—um, Tony—doesn’t want me home alone today. Can I come over?”

  He agreed, and she promised to tell him more when she got there.

  Setting down her phone, she sighed. “I suppose I ought to call Emily.”

  “Why?” Tony sounded uncompromising.

  “She’s my sister. She loves me.”

  “Do it later.” He didn’t have to say When I don’t have to hear you. She read him loud and clear. “We can stop at the pharmacy on the way.”

  She scooped a few magazines and a book into her tote bag to keep herself entertained, brushed her teeth and was ready to go.

  The pharmacy had a drive-through window, so the stop didn’t take more than a minute or two.

  A block from the house, Beth admitted, “I haven’t told Dad I’m dating you.”

  He gave her a sidelong, extremely ironic look.

  “It seemed...disloyal,” she said quietly.

  “We can go on keeping it to ourselves,” he offered.

  “From your family, maybe. But Matt knows.”

  “You’re right. Since he felt compelled to call Emily, she probably knows, too.”

  “And would have passed it on to Dad,” Beth said with a sigh. And anyone else she talked to.

  Tony pulled into the driveway next to her father’s aging car. “Handle it however you want.”

  She only nodded. Dad had the front door open before they reached the small porch.

  Her father looked stricken. “Dear God.”

  “It’s not that bad.” She let him hug her.

  “Have you had breakfast?” he asked, looking at Tony, too.

  “Yes. Um... Tony was nice enough to spend the night. He made sure I ate.”

  In the family room, she sank onto one end of the sofa. Tony set the tote by her feet. Her father studied Tony more keenly than she was used to seeing.

  “You think this man will come after her again.”

  “It’s a possibility,” Tony said. “Ah, I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Privately?”

  “No, Beth already knows. Maybe your other daughter or son have mentioned it.”

  Her father sat in his usual recliner, his face assuming a more usual expression of perplexity. “Something about a drawing? I couldn’t quite follow everything Emily said this morning. I think she was crying.”

  Beth vowed to call her once Tony was gone. Always emotional, Emily would be hysterical once she understood that she was partly responsible. Or did she already know, thus the hysteria?

  Tony sat on the sofa a few feet from Beth. “Mr. Marshall, I’d hoped to spare you from seeing the drawing, but I think I need to show it to you.”

  “What is it?”

  “A rather skillfully done, colored-pencil sketch of your wife naked.”

  Her father didn’t so much as blink for a long time. Too long, or maybe it just felt that way. Then he swallowed. “I...wouldn’t have thought she’d do something like that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He only nodded, but in that minute, he aged another decade. Every line in his face seemed pronounced, his shoulders more rounded, his skin tone grayer.

  “Dad?”

  He didn’t look at her, only reached for the phone Tony handed over. He stared at a photo of the drawing, then moaned. Tony took the phone from her father’s suddenly slack hand.

 
; His eyes unfocused, Dad seemed to be seeing another time and place. Tony didn’t push him. After a minute, her father said, “As I told Bethie, I suspected Christine was seeing someone. She’d become...less and less content with her life, or maybe just with me. I didn’t know how to reach her. How to change. I...hoped she would decide to keep our family together.”

  Tony leaned forward. “I showed this to you only because you might recall an acquaintance of yours talking about his art. Or your wife mentioning how talented a friend was. It’s possible you even saw other drawings done by the same man.”

  But Dad was shaking his head. “The only artist we knew was...” He looked frustrated at his inability to summon a name immediately. “He taught for a year or two at the community college. I liked his work, but Christine was less enthusiastic. I’m sure we had a couple of original watercolors of his around.” Dad, being Dad, turned his head as if he expected them to magically appear.

  “Oh! I found three matted watercolors,” Beth said. “One was of the columnar basalt.”

  “Yes, that was his. I suppose we never hung them. I left that kind of thing to Chris.”

  “You never heard that any of your friends drew as a hobby.”

  “I’m afraid not.” Forehead wrinkled, he said, “I sometimes didn’t pay attention to chatter. Chris could have said something, and, well...”

  He’d tuned her out.

  Beth saw that Tony understood, too. He nodded and rose to his feet. “Then I regret asking you to look at the drawing.”

  Her father stood, too, visibly trying to square his shoulders. “My marriage ended a very long time ago. It seems it was over even longer ago than I knew.” He turned his sad gaze on Beth. “Is Emily right that you think you saw something else this monster drew?”

  “I don’t know, Dad, but...there’s something at the back of my mind.”

  He looked at Tony again. “I wish I could help, but I never knew who the man was.”

  Tony inclined his head. “I need to get going. Beth, don’t go outside, even to get the mail. You understand?”