Deceiver Read online

  “Well, this is two dates that I’ve managed to screw up now,” he mumbles.

  I shake my head against his chest. “You didn’t screw either one of them up. I had a great time tonight. Well, up until you got that phone call, anyway.”

  He steps back, holding me at arm’s length, and locking his gaze on me. “I really like you, Candy. A lot. I want to see you again.”

  I gaze back at him, forgetting about Derek and about Mr. Stratford and everything else that’s ugly and vile in my life at the moment. “Me, too,” I confess.

  “Yeah, but I mean soon. Like tomorrow.”

  I laugh as he leans in and gives me a sweet, gentle kiss on my lips, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

  I sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  I look at him, my eyes full of hope and anticipation.

  “Oh, yes. You certainly will.” He winks.

  He walks back to his side of the truck and opens the door.

  “Oh! I get off at six tomorrow,” I shout over the truck.

  “I know,” he replies. “I’m a detective, remember?”

  I laugh while walking to the porch, digging out my keys on the way. He waits to leave until I unlock the door and step inside, giving him a little wave as I close it behind me. I even remember to lock the door behind me. Josh would be so proud.

  I lean against the panel, still smiling, still blocking out all the ugly and allowing myself to be happy for just five more minutes. I fold my arms around me and give myself a hug, feeling like I’m sixteen again.

  Holy shit! I’m struck with an epiphany, standing there like an idiot and blinking into oblivion as realization dawns. I know this feeling, but it seems too crazy to be true. I barely know the guy. It’s too soon. Too soon or not, I’m falling in love with Dan.

  My blissful stupor lasted maybe thirty seconds tonight and then, the stark realization of love and life seeped back in and wound me up tighter than ever.

  Now, I lie in bed, wondering what Dan is doing, thinking about Josh, and wishing he had come home tonight, after all. I should be asleep. Four o’clock comes really early, and I can’t afford to be tired tomorrow. I have way too much to do with a full shift and glee club tomorrow night, and… Oh, crap! I sit straight up in the bed, shaking my head. I can’t go out with Dan. I have to meet the girls after work.

  I reach over and grab my phone off the nightstand. Scrolling through, I find Dan’s number and start a text.

  “Hey. Sorry to bother you. I know you’re busy, but I forgot that I have glee club practice after work tomorrow. Can we meet up after that? Nite.”

  I hit send and then dump my phone back on the nightstand. Lying back down, I snuggle my head into my pillow and close my eyes. Five seconds later, my phone chirps. Dan. I smile, reaching for it to read his reply.

  “Sure. I’ll call you. Glee club?”

  Dammit! I slap my palm to my forehead. Billie! Now, I have royally fucked up. I should never text when I’m sleepy. He knows Billie is in a glee club, and it’s not like we have glee clubs all around this part of the country. What will I say? No doubt he’s going to grill me until I break. I am so stupid!

  I toss and turn the rest of the night. The harder I try to sleep, the more awake I become. I have no idea what to say to Dan. I finally doze off, somewhere between confessing the truth and telling the biggest lie of my life.

  The alarm clock goes off at four, just like I knew it would, and I slap it, exhausted, just like I knew I would be. I sleepwalk into the bathroom and brush my teeth. By the time I finish dressing, I’m somewhat awake, still not believing I could be so monumentally stupid as to tell him about the glee club. The girls are going to string me up by my toes and tar and feather me.

  I need to chill. It’s not like he wasn’t going to find out anyway, eventually. I mean, he’s said he wants to keep seeing me, and I know I want to keep seeing him. And, if things keep going like this, well… I lean against the kitchen counter and chew on a piece of dry toast while thinking about the current sad state of affairs. Then, after finishing off some juice, I rinse out my glass, place it on the counter, and head off in search of my keys.

  The morning seems to crawl by, and I spend most of it trying to dodge Nurse Hatchet. At noon, I hit the cafeteria, starving, and bust open a salad, checking my phone before diving in. No messages. I haven’t heard from Dan yet, and I keep trying to avoid Mr. Donovan’s room. Not sure why, exactly, but I don’t know how to tell him about Rufus or why Dan has him without telling him about Mr. Stratford. I sure don’t want to say anything to make him connect Mr. Stratford and Juliet. That would break his heart. No one should go to his grave hearing something like that about their child, or even suspecting something that horrible.

  As I’m finishing off my salad, my phone chirps. Dan! I drop my fork and grab for my cell. It’s him!

  “Hi beautiful. Missing you. What time should I pick you up tonight?”

  He misses me? I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for five minutes. Grinning from ear to ear, I text him back. “Is eight thirty too late for you?”

  I stand up, dropping my phone in my pocket to then hustle the remains of my lunch into the trash. My phone chirps again as soon as I step into the hallway.

  “Not sure I can wait that long.”

  “I promise to make it worth the wait.”

  I press the elevator button, smiling as I drop my phone back into my pocket.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  Ugh. Don’t say Hatchet. Don’t say Hatchet. “Nurse Ratchet. Hi, there. How are you today?”

  “If I were any better, I’d be twins,” she replies less than enthusiastically as she moves to step beside me. We wait in uncomfortable silence.

  I don’t care. Not even Nurse Hatchet can spoil my mood now.

  “Well, I heard from Diane. She’s feeling much better, and thinks maybe she can return to work on Friday,” I inform her. Surely, that will improve her sour mood.

  Nurse Hatchet snarls as the elevator dings and the doors begin to open. “Call her back and tell her I don’t want to see her face back here until Sunday, at least. The last thing I need is some contaminated nurse up here spreading the flu around to all my patients.”

  I try to tune her out as I step inside the elevator and fish my phone from my pocket. I switch it over to vibrate, knowing that the old bag hates to hear our phones ringing on the floor.

  “I hope you’re not trying to make a phone call right now.”

  I lean forward, pushing the button for the third floor. “Of course not. Just turning off the ringer.”

  She grunts at me. “Make sure you get the DNR paperwork for Mr. Donovan completed before you leave today.”

  Okay. She found maybe the only chink in my armor this afternoon. I nod. “I will.”

  “Have you called his son yet?”

  “No. Do you really think it’s time?” I cringe, regretting the question as soon as it comes out of my mouth.

  “How long have you been a nurse, Ms. Putnam?” She looks over the top of her glasses at me, her red lips pursed like a puckered up asshole.

  “Twelve years,” I reply obligingly.

  “So, you tell me, then. Is it time?”

  I sigh. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

  I head straight for the nurses’ station when the doors open, praying she’ll go the opposite direction, sitting down in front of the computer and glancing around to make sure she’s gone. Sneaking a peek at my phone, I stifle another smile as I read the text from Dan.

  “Now I’m positive I can’t wait that long.”

  “I’ll try to sneak out early. Just take Rufus for a long walk and I’ll text you as soon as I’m free.”

  I slip my phone back into my pocket, looking around guiltily, and then pull up Mr. Donovan’s records to print out the DNR form. Sighing, I head off toward Room 303 with my pen and my clipboard and the depressing document.

  Easing the door open, I poke my head inside. He’s alone, of
course, sleeping. More like unconscious. I don’t like the sound of his breathing at all. It’s been labored all night. I walk beside him and place my clipboard on the bed. Then, I press my fingers against his wrist and check his pulse. Weak, as suspected. I look at him, shaking my head.

  “Mr. Donovan,” I whisper. “Mr. Donovan.”

  He cracks open his eyes. “There you are,” he croaks. “I’ve been wondering where you were.”

  I smile at him. “Not far. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

  “I knew you had a crush on me.”

  I giggle. “Mr. Donovan, I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I need to know if you still want to sign this Do Not Resuscitate Order.”

  He nods, his tired, blurry eyes looking into mine. I smile back.

  “Okay. Well, here it is.” I pick up the clipboard and the pen. “Do you want me to read it to you?”

  “No,” he says wearily as he tries to reach up and take the pen from me.

  I place it in his hand and hold the clipboard up for him to read and sign. He doesn’t read any of it. He simply scribbles his name at the bottom of the page.

  “Alright, then.” I take the pen back from him. “How are you feeling? Do you need some more pain meds?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Okay. Close your eyes and get some more rest. I’ll check back in on you later. Okay?” I wink.

  “I’ll try to be a better host next time,” he teases.

  “Don’t you worry about that.” I laugh. “I can entertain myself.”

  He’s asleep again before I leave the room. Nurse Hatchet’s right. I just didn’t want to admit it. It’s time to call the son.

  I sit down in the front of the computer again and pull up Mr. Donovan’s records, skimming through until I find his son, Robert Donovan. I pick up the phone and begin to dial the Chicago number.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello? Robert Donovan?”

  “Yes. Who’s this?”

  “This is Candy Putnam. I’m a nurse at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Little Rock.”

  There’s a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Okay.”

  “I’m calling about your father.”

  “Is he dead?”

  “Uh… No, sir. He’s not, but you might want to come down now if you’d like to say goodbye.”

  There's a long pause. “Okay. I need to wrap up a few things here, and then I’ll catch a flight as soon as I can.”

  “Okay. Good.” I nod. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah,” he says and hangs up.

  I sit there for a moment, trying to figure out whether he was upset about his father or just upset that he had to go to the hassle of coming down here. How could a kid be that apathetic about their parent’s passing, especially when they had a sweet father like Mr. Donovan?

  I pick up the receiver again and dial another number.

  “Hello.”

  I close my eyes at the sound of Josh’s voice.

  “Hey, baby,” I chirp, trying to sound happy.

  “Hey.”

  “I just haven’t talked to you in a while and I missed you. So, I called to hear your voice.”

  “Okay…” He sounds skeptical.

  “Well, I won’t keep you. Don’t forget I have glee club practice after work today.”

  “I have to work tonight, Mom.”

  “Oh. I guess I forgot.”

  “I get off at ten,” he adds, obviously feeling sorry for me.

  “Okay. Well, I have a date tonight, too. After practice. I won’t be too late. Want me to bring you anything home for supper?”

  “No. I’ll grab something.”

  “Alright, sweetie. Well, I love you and I’ll see you tonight, I guess.”

  “You alright, Mom?”

  “Yes, honey. I’m fine. Like I said, I just missed you and wanted to hear the sound of your voice. I’m okay.”

  “Okay, then. Love you, too.”

  I hang up the phone, staring at the picture of him on my desk, tears threatening. In the photo, he’s eight years old. We’d gone to the cabin in Hot Springs for vacation and Josh had caught a good-sized bass. He held it up for a picture, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  I stand up, running my finger across the frame, and prepare to make my afternoon rounds. I’ve got a long ways to go before six o’clock. Might as well get started.

  Chapter Twelve

  At five forty-five, I start avoiding the nurses’ station. Damned if Hatchet is going to catch me today. I’m leaving on time! I hide inside the patient rooms, checking I.V. lines, making sure no one needs anything, and, basically, just visiting and sharing a laugh or two. Finally, with a minute left on my shift, I start making my way toward the stairs with an extra pudding cup that I confiscated from the diabetic’s room. I tiptoe over, place my hand on the handle, and gently press it down.

  “Hey! You out of here?”

  I shriek and toss the pudding cup in the air, nearly shitting myself. Then, I lean back against the door with my hand over my heart, trying to calm it down.

  “What the hell, Jen?” Someone needs to tie a bell around this bitch’s neck.

  “Oh, my. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Shh…” I hiss, my neck bobbing like a chicken.

  “Miss Crossland!” Nurse Hatchet calls from just around the corner.

  “Go! Save yourself,” she says as she pushes open the door to the stairwell behind me.

  “Bye!” I dash into the stairwell with a half-ass wave and sprint down the stairs, never looking back.

  This is ridiculous. I should not have to sneak out every day when my shift is over. I resolve to never do it again. After tonight, that is. I’m simply going to tell her that my shift is over and I can’t stay late. But, for now, I’m running.

  I pull up to Lucy’s house fifteen minutes later, the last one to get there, as usual. There’s a new Mercedes in the drive, and I assume it belongs to our visitor slash singing coach, “the” Luther McKendrick. I let myself in and head straight for the den in the back, from where I hear him going through some scales with the ladies.

  “Candy! You made it!” Lucy jumps up and bounds over to me, hugging me and kissing the air beside each of my cheeks as the other ladies wave and mumble salutations.

  I wonder briefly what the hell is going on. They all look miserable.

  “Candy, this is Luther McKendrick.”

  Lucy waves toward the urban hippy standing in the middle of the living room lighting a weird cigarette. Gabby looks as though she’s going to have a stroke.

  He stands before the group like a dandy peacock puffing away in a cloud of European smoke. “You’re late,” he quips.

  I look at him as if he’s grown a third teat. “Yes. I work.”

  He ignores me, turning back around to address the snickering ladies. I glance at Jade, and she rolls her eyes.

  “Pay no mind to that jackass. Just come over here and sit down by me,” Lucy whispers.

  It’s important to note here that Lucy whispers at about the same decibel that most normal people talk. Thankfully, the jackass doesn’t seem too bothered by her comment.

  Thirty minutes, three French cigarettes, and a dozen stupid scales later, the maestro tells us that he has to leave for an important meeting with the executives from JayZ studios, whatever that means. I get the distinct impression, though, that it’s meant to impress us. In the short time he’s been here, I think the man has managed to insult every woman in the room at least once, and some of us twice.

  “How exactly do you know that guy?” Gabby asks as politely as she can once he’s gone.

  “He’s a friend of one my customers at the tattoo parlor,” Sami admits. “Although, I swear, I thought she had better taste than that.”

  “The guy was a total dickhead,” Lora remarks, and we all nod in agreement.

  I stare at my feet as the ladies shoot off in different directions. Jade and Lora practice scales on the sofa.
Sami and Billie whisper and laugh in the corner. Lucy and Gabby gossip over the cookies. These are my friends, my sisters. I have to tell them. I have to set my conscience right.

  I walk to the center of the room.

  “Ladies,” I shout, but no one seems to pay me any mind.

  I stand on Lucy’s ottoman, place two fingers in my mouth, and whistle loud enough to raise the dead. That does the trick. Everyone stops and stares.

  “I have something… some things, I guess, that I need to tell you.”

  Billie looks at me, confused. The other ladies have been shocked into silence, as well.

  “First, you should know that…” I pause, biting my lip. “Well, there’s just no easy way to say this. I’ve been going out with Detective Cole.” Absolutely no reaction from the group. “The detective that showed up at Billie’s apartment the other day? I’m dating him.”

  Everyone continues to stare blankly. I stand there staring back, unsure what else I can say at this point.

  “He’s hot.” Billie nods at the girls.

  Giggles and murmurs break out across the room, and my shoulders sag with relief.

  “What do you mean ‘going out with?’” Sami asks.

  “Shagging. I’ve been shagging Dan.” I look at Sami and then glance around the room at everyone. “You should also know that I like him. I like him a lot. In fact, I think I’m in love with him.” So, if you’re going to try and stop me from seeing him, fat chance.

  “Okay. And..?” Gabby asks.

  “And, I don’t think we have anything to worry about when it comes to Derek, but I need to talk to you about another situation.”

  “What kind of situation?” Lora is holding one of Luther’s cigarettes in her lap. What the hell?

  I look at Lora, trying to decide the best way to answer. Unlike Sami and Billie, I’m not much of a public speaker. I certainly didn’t plan this. “Well, there’s another killer walking around out there, in our community, scot-free.”

  “Who? How do you know?” Billie’s eyes sparkle.

  “His name is Jesse Stratford. It all started last week when Dan showed up at my house asking about a patient of mine.”

  For the next half hour, I recount the entire story for the ladies. I tell them about the little girl that went missing, and I tell them about Mr. Donovan and how his daughter disappeared so long ago. I explain my relationship with Dan and how close we’re getting, and may have even hinted that the sex is monumental. I tell them how he managed to get a search warrant for Mr. Stratford’s property, and how he found both of the bodies before the warrant got all screwed up. I even tell them about little Rufus. Lastly, I share with them how Mr. Stratford walked right out of the jailhouse last night, a free man, at liberty to do it over and over again.