Once in a Blue Moon Page 5

  “Addie, are you afraid of me?”

  “Of course not. I’m just a little nervous, you know, with the power off, the storm, and I went to the funeral of one of my friends today.”

  “Yes, I heard about that at the library this afternoon. I’m extremely sorry about your friends. It must be terrifying for you.”

  “I think I’m still in shock. It’s difficult to conceive such evil.”

  “Have they formed a profile of the killer?”

  “Joe says they’re looking for an intelligent man, at home with books, maybe a scholar of some sort, probably attractive to women, someone who considers himself a ladies’ man, and who is angry about something. Furious at a perceived slight, or devastated by a failed relationship with a woman who was perhaps an avid reader.”

  His eyebrows drew together, and he frowned, his mouth turned down at the corners as if he was thinking hard.

  “Sounds reasonable,” he finally said, and smiled. “So Chief Bolo is here to protect you, I assume, not to court you.”

  “Heavens, no. Everyone knows Buck and I are engaged.”

  “Yes, well, it’s good to know you have so many protectors.” He smiled again, that so very devastating, lazy, engaging smile that caused her heart to curl up and flutter like a lacy valentine. “I’d like to keep an eye on you, too.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary. I’ve got so many watchdogs around me that I can’t even cough without someone saying ‘Addie, dearest, are you okay?’ “

  They laughed together. With the laughter, the muscles in Addie’s jaws yielded somewhat and stopped aching, and her knees stopped tingling as the warmth of his smile began to thaw her tension.

  “I missed you this afternoon, but your friend Lulu was a help.” He glanced at the table next to him. “Are those the makings for s’mores?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thought so. You’ve got marshmallow on your cheek, and chocolate at the corner of your mouth.” She watched in stunned fascination, unable to move, like the snake and the snake charmer, as his hand came to her face and his thumb wiped the marshmallow from her cheek. “Sticky stuff.”

  “Guess I missed a spot.”

  “Maybe this will help.”

  He got to his knees, and kissed the spot where the stubborn marshmallow stuck. She caught her breath as her thighs warmed and trembled, and her heart shook until it rattled her ribs. Breathe, Addie, Breathe.

  “Ummmm, tastes good,” he murmured against her cheek.

  “Will,” she said weakly. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “Have to get the chocolate off,” he whispered, and licked at the bit of chocolate in the corner of her mouth.

  Chocolate and marshmallow forgotten, the lick became a kiss, and Addie became a mindless, wanting, craving, creature of sensation. The kiss deepened, his sensual mouth demanding more, his tongue asking entrance, then entering hotly, exploring, darting, and caressing.

  Addie heard herself moan and didn’t care. Slowly, slowly, he disengaged his tongue, brought his fingers to her mouth and brushed them over her lips, then placed delicate butterfly kisses on her temples and dosed eyelids. He slid his fingers into her hair, and whispered into her ear.

  “Open your eyes, Addie “

  She did, and his eyes held hers, telling her of his admiration and desire.

  “From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive: they sparkle like the right Promethean fire; they are the books, the arts, the academe’s that show, contain, and nourish all the world.”

  “Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act Four, Scene Three,” she murmured weakly. “Will, it’s quite obvious that we’re attracted to each other, but you know I’ve been engaged to Buck for three years.”

  “Yes, much too long. If you were mine I wouldn’t let three years go by without marrying you.” He kissed her forehead, and said, “Methinks you don’t protest enough about your so-called engagement, fair lady. I don’t see much jubilation between the two of you. You happy, Addie Rivers?”

  She should say yes, the word should leap from her mouth without hesitation, but it stuck in her throat as her heart rebelled. “I don’t know about happiness. Is there such a thing?”

  His hands cupped her face and he looked hard into her eyes. “Are you telling me you’ve given up on happiness?”

  At the moment, Addie didn’t care much about happiness or anything. All she wanted was to be close to Will again, skin close, whiskered face grazing hers, hot mouth against hers. She wanted the rough grid of his sweater scuffing her cheek. She wanted to breathe in the scent of the rain in his hair, the aroma of a rich cup of coffee enjoyed sometime this evening, and the clean, faint citrus fragrance of his aftershave. Her fingers ached to flirt with the small gold loop that glinted in his earlobe.

  Answering his question about happiness was impossible because she was melting inside. An untamed river of wild yearning had filled the swollen mound between her legs, and tributaries flowed warmly down her legs, and up into her breasts. She was lost and she knew it.

  “Answer me, Addie. Have you given up on happiness?” He kissed her lips lightly, then drew back to look at her again, the fierce light in his eyes questioning her, sweeping away any equilibrium she had left.

  “I’ll admit you make me wonder if I’ve been missing something, Will,” she said shakily.

  “Does this make you happy?” he asked, then kissed her again. She kissed him back, then slid over the edge of the sofa and down on the floor next to him.

  “Oh, yes, it certainly does.”

  He nuzzled into her neck, planting soft kisses on her ear, across her collarbone, and in the hollow of her throat. Addie clasped her arms around his shoulders, and folded herself into him, breathing him in, loving the safe, solid feel of his chest, the tautness of his arms as he held her tight.

  “Addie, do you want to go anywhere with this?” he whispered huskily in her ear.

  Suddenly, the electricity hummed back on. Light flooded the room. Addie jerked away from him, embarrassed, feeling that a dirty secret had been exposed, and belatedly remembering that Joe might appear at any minute. Relief flooded her when she realized she had an excuse not to answer his loaded question about continuing this dangerous physical flirtation.

  He raised his eyebrows quizzically, a smile on his face, and asked, “Kissing’s not as much fun when you can see me?”

  She laughed and relaxed back against his chest and into his arms where she wanted to be, her head on his shoulder. Will kicked off his loafers, stretched his legs out on the floor toward the fire, leaned against the sofa, and gathered her close.

  The mood was broken, but Addie felt comfortable. A newness sang within her, thrilling her in its raw beckoning call. “Come, Addie,” it said, “come adventure with me, come explore life, and passion, and heart happiness, and maybe even heartache.”

  “Hungry?” Will asked. “I could stay here forever, but I’m starving. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  Addie wanted to stay right where she was, warm against Will’s side, thinking forbidden thoughts, dreaming dreams and seeing them come true in the dance and leap of the hungry flames. But she knew Will had made a wise suggestion. Better to be busy than to stay here and give in to temptation.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said, “but we’ll fix you a snack and bring it back in here.”

  In the kitchen, as Will chopped tomatoes and onions, and Addie beat eggs for an omelet, she worried guiltily about Joe. She was glad he hadn’t found her kissing Will, but he should have returned long ago.

  “I’m getting worried about Joe,” she told Will. “He should have been back by now.”

  “I’ll go look for him. He’d probably like some food, too. Do you have an extra slicker around?”

  The back door flew open, banging noisily as it bounced against the wall. Buck rushed inside the kitchen, bringing rain and wind with him. A worried frown on his face, he gave a swift, curious glance at Will, then removed his sou’wester and slapped it against
his leg. Drops of water flew everywhere, landing on the floor, on the table, and on Addie and Will.

  “Thank God you’re okay, Addie. Call an ambulance. I found Joe unconscious near the barn, and someone beat Rags half to death. All I could think about was running here to see if the bastard had gotten to you.”

  Addie’s head whirled. Sick with thick, sudden fear, she grabbed the back of a kitchen chair and held on tight. “Is Joe going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know. I should have dragged him into the barn out of the rain, but I was afraid to move him. Rags needs to see a vet, pronto.” He ran a wet hand across the top of his spiked cut, and gave Will a cold look. “Hello, Court. You been here all evening?”

  “We don’t have time for questions, Buck. I’ll call 911 and we’ll go right to the barn,” said Addie, running to the pantry for slickers for her and Will.

  “You’re not going out in this storm,” Buck declared with authority.

  “I most certainly am. My dog and my best friend are out there.”

  Fifteen minutes later, she followed the two men as they carried Joe’s sagging body toward the house. Rags had been moved into the barn and covered with dry canvas.

  They laid Joe gently on the kitchen floor. Addie disregarded the other two men as she knelt beside Joe, loosened his collar, and pulled it away from his neck. She wiped the rain from his still face with a kitchen towel, and whispered encouraging words. Blood trickled from his ear and onto the floor, supplying a spreading puddle of red against the topaz tile, and mixing obscenely with the mud tracked in by all of them.

  The sight and feel of dependable, stalwart, protective Joe lying vulnerable and helpless on the floor beside her cast any remaining feelings of safety and normalcy aside for Addie. She closed her eyes, dug deep, and grabbed hold of an inner core of strength she didn’t know she possessed. Opening her eyes, she kissed Joe on the forehead and uttered a quick prayer.

  “You’re going to be all right, Joe,” she told him. “The ambulance will be here shortly.”

  His eyes fluttered open for a second, and he tried to speak.

  Addie placed her ear near his mouth. “Addie,” he whispered, his voice a faint, sibilant hiss, barely a sound at all, only a valiant effort. She would never forget his words. “Be careful,” he gasped. “He’s here, close by. It’s … don’t believe… he … what …”

  And that had been all Joe had managed to get out. Had she understood him correctly? It was clear he was warning her that the killer was close by, of that she was sure. But how close? In Blue Springs, or in the neighborhood, or near the house? And what, or who, shouldn’t she believe?

  An ambulance siren could be heard in the distance. Addie sighed with relief.

  “Now you can answer my question, Court,” said Buck. “How long were you here this evening?”

  Addie looked up at Buck in dismay. How could he be thinking about anything but Joe and Rags?

  “About forty-five minutes,” answered Will dismissively. To Addie, he said, “I’ll go to the barn and stay with Rags until we can get him to the vet.”

  “Wait a minute, Court,” said Buck. “You’re not going anywhere until I find out where you’ve been all night.”

  Buck’s belligerent tone shocked Addie. She’d never known him to be anything but pleasant and conciliatory to everyone. He could be hardheaded and stubborn at times, but was always patient and courteous with whomever he disagreed with.

  “I don’t have to answer to you, Harvey.” Will brushed by Buck, and reached for the doorknob. “Rags is more important now.”

  Buck’s face got red, his refined features pinched with anger. He seized the front of Will’s slicker and jerked him toward his chest.

  “You listen to me, Mr. Stranger in Town. I want to fuckin’ know where you were tonight. For all I know you kicked Rags half to death, knocked Joe senseless, then came up here to get cozy with my fianc��e.”

  Will’s face tightened. He grabbed Buck’s restraining hand, and squeezed the offending fist until Buck winced. “Let go, Harvey. This isn’t the time for a fight, and Rags is alone out there.”

  “Will, tell him where you were tonight or he’ll never let you go,” insisted Addie. “He’s stubborn as a mule, and determined.”

  “Release me, Harvey, and I’ll tell you.”

  Buck released Will’s slicker and glared defiantly at him. “Start talking.”

  “I don’t have to tell you a damn thing, but for Addie’s sake I will. I did research at Marysville Community College, then had coffee with old friends.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care whether you believe him or not,” wailed Addie. The ambulance could be heard racing along the highway. She shoved both men, and opened the door. “Will, go to the barn, and Buck, show the paramedics where we are.”

  Will hunched deep into his rain gear, and headed out into the storm again as the ambulance drove up the driveway.

  “I don’t like that guy,” said Buck to Addie. “I particularly don’t like him being here with you. We’ll talk about this later.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped out onto the porch to motion the paramedics toward the kitchen.

  Twenty minutes later, Addie stood on the back porch, huddling into her slicker, ignoring her mother’s pleas.

  “Addie, do come in out of the rain,” implored Eileen Rivers.

  Her mother had returned home as the ambulance paramedics worked with Joe in the kitchen. She stood now wringing her hands in the open door behind Addie.

  Soaked to the skin, Addie knew she was being foolish, but she didn’t care, didn’t even feel the wetness as the rain gusted in and out of her porch shelter.

  The ambulance’s flashing lights whirled discolike in the black, soggy night. Yellow, pink, and red, they pierced through the rain, highlighting the forms of the paramedics and Buck as they gently placed Joe’s gurney into the ambulance. The specterlike forms standing around the large, official-looking vehicle only enhanced Addie’s feelings of unreality, her increasing perception of encroaching danger.

  “Addie, you’re getting soaked,” said her mother from the open kitchen door. “I insist you come in.”

  Addie wanted to go to the hospital with Joe, but everyone said that wouldn’t be a safe idea, so she stood there feeling helpless and useless, worrying about him, and his warning words.

  The ambulance tore away carrying one of her best friends, the one person with whom she’d always felt incredibly safe. Joe Bolo was pure gold, someone Addie had always counted on to come through, someone she’d taken for granted. Tears mixed with the rain on her cheeks. She dashed them away, and strained to see a figure splashing toward her through the rain and mud with a burden in his arms.

  Will came carrying Rags. He headed for his car and Addie knew he intended taking Rags to the veterinary clinic himself. Something in her heart lit and took off like a firecracker in the stormy night, and she acknowledged immediately it wasn’t retrievable. The exploding clarity would be forever etched in her soul, and for the moment felt glorious.

  She watched as Will loaded Rags into the backseat of his car and listened to Buck’s directions to the clinic. Gripping her slicker tight around her, she ran out to them.

  “I want to go with you. I know the way. We’ll all go together.”

  “No, Addie,” said Buck, holding her arm rightly. “The two of us have things to discuss, and Will doesn’t mind going alone do you, Will?”

  Will, rain plastering his black hair to his forehead, gave Buck a peculiar look, then shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Of course not. Be happy to.”

  “We’re imposing on a guest, Buck. This isn’t right.” Will spoke up, his expression grim, but his words light. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. All I ask is that you have some of your mom’s hot vegetable soup ready.” He got into his car, closed the door with a slam and started the engine, as if to put an end the discussion.

  Addie and Buck walked through the rain back to
the house, his hand clasped firmly around her upper arm.

  “I’m sure Joe’s going to be just fine, sweetie, and Rags is a tough old dog. We’ll visit them both tomorrow.”

  Addie barely heard his words. All she could see was dear Joe’s pale face against the bloody, muddy floor, and all she could hear were his words. “He’s close by, Addie.”

  4

  THE ALWAYS CONVIVIAL, NOISY, lunchtime crowd at Dixie’s Diner provided a semblance of normalcy for Addie, which she desperately needed. The sound of plates clattering behind the counter, and hamburgers sizzling on the griddle, and the tantalizing smell of country-fried chicken seemed somehow reassuring.

  Buck and Addie sat in the corner booth Dixie always saved for them if she knew they were coming. They’d made the booth their own since high school days.

  Addie viewed the meatloaf and fluffy mashed potatoes in front of her with misery. The last time she’d had Dixie’s specialty was the day she and Joe had lunched here over two weeks ago. Now Joe was in a coma and she didn’t feel like eating. Restless and disturbed, she stared out the plate glass window at the denuded oaks and maples on Town Square. Brown, gold, and orange leaves scuttled indiscriminately across the street and sidewalks. Though midday, the sky was gray with cloud cover.

  “Eat up, honey,” said Buck. “I’ve got a meeting with the Hoedown Committee at one o’clock.”

  “I know, but I’m not very hungry, and I can’t attend the meeting with you anyway. I have work to do at the library.”

  “I’ve got a super idea. Since I’m committee chairman, I can schedule meetings anytime and anyplace I want to. I’ll call everyone and we’ll meet at the library instead of church.”

  “No, Buck” she said emphatically. “Donny Jim’s been acting weird lately, and his aunt called to say he probably wouldn’t show up this morning. I have things I need to catch up on and I don’t care to have a lot of people around.”

  “Whatever you say, honey, but I’ll be there as soon as the meeting is over.” He winked at her and cut another bite of chicken steak. “With Joe in the hospital the only official protection you have is Lee Bert. The FBI seems to think he’s sufficient. I don’t. You know I love the kid, but he’s slow as molasses.”