Climbing Heartbreak Hill Page 12

  Charles pursed his lips and shook his head. “I must have taken a wrong turn.”

  Bubba was known for stealing the street signs and recycling them for scrap metal. It made sense. And that was all he would say about it. Tara jammed the shifter into park after she finally pulled into the Lilac Bower parking lot. The whole ride, she had been counting the minutes until she could rid herself of his presence. Even at this late hour, lights twinkled around the porch, giving the bed and breakfast a warm, non-redneck feel, somewhat more suited to Charles’s tastes.

  Charles seemed to be more at ease with this neighborhood. He climbed out of the car, straightened the collar of his coat and smoothed his hair. “What’s this place?”

  “It’s a bed and breakfast. You can stay here until your car gets fixed.” Or until you get hauled off to the pokey, she thought. She added out loud, “It’s walking distance to the office.”

  Charles surveyed the wrap-around porch lit by old-fashioned lanterns. “Isn’t there a Hilton in town?”

  “There’s a place with a pool, but it’s in Glendale. It’s after eleven, and I’m not driving all the way over there.” Tara marched up the sidewalk leading to the front door. He could follow her or not. If he didn’t, she would at least let Minnie know who was sleeping on her lawn. If her night was looking up, perhaps Charles would be arrested for vagrancy.

  “Do you think Minnie’s still up?” Ryan asked, hop-stepping to keep up with her.

  “Of course, she is. She always watches those shop-at-home channels until midnight. She says the best deals are after 11:30.” Tara climbed the stairs and punched the doorbell. A pleasant chime played.

  A few moments later, Minnie arrived at the door with the phone pressed to her ear and a remote tucked under her arm. She waved for them to come in, but continued her conversation with the customer service representative. “No. No. The other one. With the feathers. Yes. Does it come with the instruction video? Oh good.”

  Tara entered the foyer, followed by Ryan. Charles reluctantly climbed the steps of the porch as if the Lilac Bower was only slightly better than Bubba’s Demolition. Ryan closed the door behind them.

  Minnie ended the phone call and placed the handset on a gunmetal-gray, silk runner on a side table.

  “Good evening, Tara, Ryan. How can I help you?”

  Tara started to explain about the deer, the Mercedes, and Charles needing a room, but Minnie’s gaze swung to Ryan.

  “So,” Minnie said, looking from Tara to Ryan and back. She wiggled her eyebrows. Tara couldn’t miss Minnie’s insinuation, but a rendezvous was not in the cards for the evening. More likely she’d be studying spreadsheets until her eyes resembled knots in the bark of a tree.

  Tara shook her head. “Charles needs a room for the night. He hit a deer out by Bubba’s.”

  “What was he doing out there at night? Doesn’t he know?” Minnie turned to Charles who had barely ventured over the threshold, a look of mild disgust plastered his face.

  So the Bower wasn’t up to his standards after all. Tara sighed. There really was no pleasing him.

  Minnie’s forehead crinkled, revealing wrinkles not evident before. “I’ve seen you somewhere.”

  Charles didn’t say anything, nor would he make eye contact. He crossed his arms over his chest and examined the crown molding.

  “Charles, Charles,” Minnie repeated. “Charles…” Then she hissed. “Chuck!” She spit on the rug by his feet. Charles jumped and Tara gasped. While Minnie was plain-spoken in her opinions, Tara had never seen her react with such disgust or violence.

  “No one calls me that anymore,” Charles sniffed, refusing to meet Minnie’s piercing stare.

  “Well, I can’t say what they should call you.” Minnie went off on a mumbled tirade Tara was glad she couldn’t entirely understand. It contained several words best contained in a losing team’s locker room.

  Why does ‘Chuck’ ring a bell? The way Minnie snarled it brought stories to the forefront of her mind. Chuck. Leslie had worked with a Chuck, had a promotion stolen by a Chuck, been fired by a Chuck. Then she gasped, “Oh no!”

  Horror gripped her and the room started to spin. She tried to turn herself to keep up with it. She couldn’t have summoned this same slimy Chuck to Carterville.

  “What’s going on?” Ryan asked, grabbing hold of Tara’s arm to arrest her spinning. She clutched the solidness of his arm, desperate for something to keep the rest of her life from tipping into the gutter. The room wobbled, then righted.

  Minnie muttered something that sounded like a hex, possibly involving infected boils.

  Tara looked up into Ryan’s eyes, focusing on the flecks of gray amid the blue as if they were the only anchor keeping her from washing away on a sea of her own stupidity.

  “Chuck. Chuck. The hair. It’s different. And no earring. How could I have been so stupid?” Tara cried, burying her face in her hands. She had seen him when he dropped by after Leslie opened the office. How had she not recognized him? “This is absolutely horrible.” Her voice trailed off into a wail.

  “Who is Chuck?” Ryan asked again. He gripped her arms and kept her face focused on his. Tara’s eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t help it. She screwed everything up. She should have ‘failure’ stamped on her forehead. She couldn’t even look up a phone number in an address book. Add to that identity theft and tax fraud. Chuck had probably swiped all the sticky notes too. She should quit right now.

  “I might as well have burned down the building.” Tara sniffed, waving helplessly at Chuck. “I couldn’t have done anything worse.”

  Ryan pulled her into his arms. Even though her mind swirled with horror and frustration, she found refuge. With his arms steadying her, she could almost believe everything good in her life hadn’t been flushed down the toilet.

  “He’s the sleezeball who got Leslie fired from her job after she came here.” Minnie jabbed her finger at Chuck. Chuck jerked backward as if she’d electrocuted him. Maybe Minnie’s hex was stronger than she thought. “How could you even think she would want you here?”

  “It was my mistake, Minnie,” Tara cried. “I called him. I was in too much of a hurry and got the wrong Charlie.”

  “Leslie’s always had a soft spot for me.” Chuck shrugged his shoulders. “I’m the reason she got as far as she did in the company.”

  “Baloney. You rode her coat-tails as far as you could and slept your way up the rest of the time. You are a slimy, sleazy butthead. I can’t believe I was afraid you would leave.”

  Minnie snorted. “You can say that again.”

  “Leslie thought you were her friend and you stabbed her in the back. She told me all about it,” Tara shouted. Her fury built and she inched toward him. She wouldn’t let him get away with any of it. He wouldn’t hurt Leslie’s company. He wouldn’t pin his fraud on her. And he wouldn’t leave town unless it was in the back of an IRS paddy-wagon. Well, they probably didn’t have paddy-wagons, but he’d surely get some new bracelets. She jabbed her finger at him. “I should have left you out at Bubba’s.”

  “Hey.” Chuck wagged his finger as he inched behind Minnie who looked as if she could use his tie as a deadly weapon. “Your message begged me to come. I’m doing you a huge favor.”

  “But I didn’t know who you were. If I had, I wouldn’t have let you and your sorry cream cheese into our office, let alone cross the city limits.”

  Leslie had trusted her. That was the worst part of it. How badly would Leslie be disappointed? She was the first one to think Tara was anything more than her bra size. And here she had proven she was a failure. She swayed back into Ryan.

  “What are we going to do about him?” Ryan asked. He squeezed her arm.

  How could he still believe in her? “He stays here. Sorry, Minnie. Can I talk to you for a second?”

  When Minnie nodded, Tara pulled her down the hallway out of earshot of Ryan and Chuck. In frantic whispers, she explained the fraudulent tax returns Chuck had filed and how they d
idn’t want him to leave town until they could prove he did it.

  “It’s all right. He won’t be going anywhere until the police slap the cuffs on him. And by then he’ll be begging them to take him away.” Minnie gave Tara a hug and whispered in her ear, “I don’t hold grudges — I get revenge. And I have friends who will hide the body.” Minnie’s eyes narrowed as her gaze swung to Chuck. “I’ve got just the room for you, buster.” She grabbed his arm and marched him up the stairs.

  “Minnie doesn’t have any rooms with electroshock equipment, does she?” Ryan asked, his voice low on her ear.

  “Not on my last tour, but she is still working on upgrades.” Minnie and Chuck disappeared at the top of the staircase. “There is one room she claims is haunted.” Tara turned to Ryan. “I have to tell Leslie about this. He is the last person she would have wanted sitting in her office, using her computer, accessing her files…” Tara gasped. “Using all her information to commit identity fraud. I have to make this right.” She dashed for the door.

  “Hey, wait up! Where are you going?” Ryan hobbled after her.

  “I have to confess to Leslie and then get to work. He isn’t going to get away with this, even if Leslie fires me. I’m going to make sure he goes to jail,” she called as she flew down the steps.

  “Wait for me,” Ryan called as she yanked her car door open. It made a menacing creak.

  “You don’t need to come. I screwed this up myself, I have to fix it myself.”

  “I promised I would help.” He walked awkwardly down the sidewalk and eased into the passenger seat.

  Tara shook her head. She was so focused on finding out how Chuck had sabotaged them, she could hardly think of anything else. “Right. Sorry.” She started the engine, but waited to shift into reverse until Ryan’s seatbelt was firmly in place.

  They drove the streets in silence. Tara’s mind was jumping between rehearsing a speech for Leslie and finding the incriminating evidence against Chuck. She didn’t notice Ryan hadn’t said a word until she nailed the pothole in the office parking lot and heard him grunt.

  “I’m sorry I dragged you into all this.” She spared him a quick glance before swinging her car into a parking spot directly in front of the office.

  Ryan unsnapped his seatbelt and turned toward her. His windbreaker whistled against the seat. “My offer stands. I want to help.”

  “You don’t have to.” She pulled the keys out of the ignition and wrapped them in her palm. “It’s my mistake. I have to fix it.”

  “I know I don’t have to.” Ryan brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I want to.”

  Tara blinked rapidly. She was turning into a watering pot tonight. Her eyeliner had to be raccoon-like smears around her eyes. A shoulder to lean on, to give support was so tempting. She could give in tonight and allow him to help. Tomorrow, she could gather her wits and stand on her feet. Talking it all out with Ryan would help. She willed the tears back and let the oxygen into her lungs, then pushed the carbon dioxide out. Slow and steady. “Thank you.” She reached for the door handle, then stopped and swung back to Ryan. “Why?”

  She could barely see his face in the silhouette of the streetlight. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

  “We just met. You don’t know me from Adam, and now you are willing to help me catch someone guilty of identity fraud. What’s in it for you?”

  His eyes softened and he searched hers. “I need a distraction. Something to get my mind off not being able to run. To prove I’m useful for something.”

  Tara slumped in her seat, then tucked her keys in her pocket, and reached for the door. He was here for the computer, not for her. Their kiss last night meant nothing now, if it ever did. Her incompetence had soured the relationship before it had started. Time to lock down her heart, so she didn’t risk anymore hurt tonight. She had been battered and bruised in every aspect of her life. She climbed out of the car and headed for the door, more aware than she wished of Ryan’s presence. Her hands shook as she worked the key in the lock.

  Ryan followed her to the door as she fumbled with the keys. He laid his hand over hers. “Do you have to do this now? Why not go home and get some rest? Minnie won’t let Chuck go anywhere. Come back in the morning.”

  Tara shook her head. She’d never sleep and she needed the distraction of work. “I can’t. I want to call Leslie first thing in the morning and I need to have something about where the investigation is going to prove I’m not a complete idiot.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ryan stretched back in his seat. The chair protested with a rancorous crack. He sat forward and pressed his palms to his eyes. It was long past being a good idea to switch from contacts to glasses, but his glasses were in the case at his mom’s. He wouldn’t quit working if Tara didn’t, although a shot of caffeine should have been ordered a half hour before. He blinked rapidly, hoping there was enough moisture in his eyelids to unstick the lenses from his eyeballs.

  Tara crouched by her desk, thumbing through the files in the lower drawer. She’d shed her jacket and her hair tumbled from the neat twist-up thingy it had been earlier. His gaze traveled slowly down her back to the enticing curve where her skirt stretched over her bottom. His thoughts strayed to what those curves would feel like pressed into his lap. He shifted in his seat. Parts of him weren’t as tired as others.

  He stood with the intention of waking up the rest of his body with a break. As soon as he gained his feet, his body slipped sideways, and he slammed his cheekbone into the doorjamb.

  Stupid knee. When would it be strong enough to hold his weight without concentration? Gripping the door jamb, he flexed his leg, easing the stiffness that had accumulated in the last hour.

  He reached around the table and grabbed his cane, remembering to shift it to his right hand like the physical therapist had pounded into his head. Keeping track of the movements he could and couldn’t do was harder than working through the strength exercises. Bend this way, not that. Turn this way, not that. But then he was used to physical exertion. He’d been blessed with naturally good running form, so he rarely had to do conditioning to correct inefficiencies in his movement.

  Gripping his cane, he made his way down the hallway from the break room. Tara shifted and her blouse slipped away from her skirt, revealing the creamy skin underneath. She slapped a manila folder on the pile next to the drawer and raised herself to her feet. She bent to pick up the rest of the pile and her shirt gaped higher. Along her side, the silky skin transformed to twisted and blotchy scar tissue.

  Tara twisted toward him. “How’s it going on your end?” She brushed a loose hair out of her face. “I think I’ve found all the paper files Chuck accessed.”

  Ryan stared at her side. He couldn’t pull his gaze away, no matter how rude it felt.

  “Oh.” She half-smiled. He knew she was trying to shrug it off like it was no big deal. She tugged her blouse down and worked to adjust the band of her skirt to overlap.

  He put his hand over hers to stop the movement, tracing his fingertips over the bunched ridges. Her stomach muscles trembled under his touch. “How did this happen?”

  She straightened and gripped the edge of her shirt, inching it up to bare more of the ravaged flesh. “One car accident and more plastic surgeries and skin grafts than I can count.”

  Ryan let out a long breath. “Makes the marble-sized incisions on my knee seem like mosquito bites.”

  He leaned his forehead against hers, smoothing his thumb over the ridges at her side. His stomach squirmed at the thought of the pain she had suffered. He’d intended their relationship to be a simple flirtation, something to distract him during his recovery, but after the last couple days, he knew he cared more deeply for her. If he wasn’t careful, he would hurt her when he left. But he was very much in danger of hurting himself. His baloney earlier about the computer being a distraction was just a cover. She was the reason he was willing to hunch over a keyboard and scan lines of code.

  “It cert
ainly wasn’t fun.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “I didn’t mean to look,” he added, but he couldn’t stop caressing her skin. The warmth of her body traversed his fingertips. Sliding them higher was irresistible.

  She dropped the edge of her shirt and tapped him on the chin. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  Ryan tipped his head toward hers, lingering in the sweet blue of her eyes. “How about I don’t mean to stop?”

  Under his hand, her chest trembled in a silent laugh. “Now that sounds like a man.”

  “That sounds like your man.” The words tripped out before Ryan even thought about the implications. They felt right, but they also scared the crap out of him. He shouldn’t commit to anyone or anything besides his recovery. It wasn’t fair.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She tilted her head back to look him in the eye. Ryan knew he didn’t have an answer. He lowered his lips to hers, dismissing the warning that he was committing to something he couldn’t put into words. He was too tired to deal with it now. He needed her. Her arms slid around him, and her fingers pressed into the muscles at his back. He pulled her tighter, crushing her against his chest, driving all thoughts of releasing her out of his reach. His hands slid under her blouse, mapping the extent of her scars into his memory. They stretched from waist to bra. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t test the skin under the satiny fabric. The temptation threatened, but his balance didn’t cooperate. He stumbled backward, landing with a hard thump on his butt. He managed to cradle Tara, so she crashed into his chest rather than tumbling to the tile.

  “Guess I’m not used to my weak leg yet.” He laughed as Tara rolled off of him and onto the floor. Ryan maneuvered to his side and off his aching bum. He propped his head on his hand. “How did it happen? The car accident, I mean.”

  Tara sat up, curling her legs under her. “It was right after graduation. A graduation party actually.” She pushed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “I was drunk. The driver was drunk, and we hit a tree.”