Just before dawn, one dream kept replaying on the movie screen of my mind. I was sitting on the rim of the gravel pit, staring down at the drifts of snow. Malone came up behind me and gave me a solid push. My head was turning back to look at him and the eyes that had successfully seduced me so many times were cold black orbs, empty of emotions. They were the eyes of a killer.
I woke up trembling and gasping for breath. A nurse stood beside my bed, talking quietly to me. She disconnected the intravenous bag from my arm and helped me sit up. A breakfast tray arrived with cold runny eggs and limp bacon. I pushed it away and opted for the toast and tea.
Was my imagination playing tricks on me? Or had Malone really pushed me? If so, why? Had he done it as a joke, playfully trying to knock me into the snow? Or was there a more serious, sinister reason? What did I really know about Malone anyway? He wouldn't do anything to hurt me, would he? No, not after the last few weeks. But how much can you trust a guy with only one name?
"You're imagining things!" I mumbled loudly to myself. Malone was the best thing to happen to me in years. Hell, he was the best thing ever! My cynical imagination was twisting him into a sadistic ghoul. Christ, no wonder I can't keep a relationship going. I could hear my mother whispering the same thought at me. You’ll never be happy with a man if you constantly keep magnifying his faults. Just the type of motherly advice you’d expect from a woman with more failed relationships than the Detroit Lions have had winning seasons.
I finished breakfast about the same time the doctor came in to check me over. My head was clear, my vision back to normal. Gingerly he probed my skull, trying to find any soft spots. He showed me how to adjust the rib belt and recommended I see my own doctor as soon as I got home. I called Malone at the inn, to tell him I was free. At least, I would be, as soon as he arrived. David Erhardt came on the line.
"Jamie, dear, how goes the recovery?"
"Fine, David. The doc said I could be released. Can you tell Malone to come pick me up?'
"Ah, Malone is on the slopes. He hoped to get a few runs in before leaving tomorrow. Would you mind if I called for you?"
"I don't want to impose, David."
I could imagine Erhardt's hands waving away the comment as he spoke. "It is no imposition, dear. You are a guest at my hotel. Actually the majority of my patrons left last night to return to their hectic city lives. I shall not take no for an answer. I'll be along shortly."
"Thank you, David," I said meekly.
I swung my legs off the bed and studied my body through the hospital gown. A lumpy cast covered my right ankle and most of my foot. My ribs didn’t hurt too badly, if I moved slowly. I called the nurse and asked her about my clothes. She brought a plastic bag with my jeans and the sweater I’d been wearing yesterday. With her help, I was able to get the sweater over my head. I didn’t think there was any way those jeans would make it over my ankle.
“Are these comfortable?” the nurse asked.
“Yeah, they are one of my favorite pairs. How do I get them on?”
“We could cut them at the seam with a scalpel, just high enough to slide over the cast. Then we can tape them together.”
I nodded. “What the hell.”
She came back with my altered jeans and helped me into them. A couple of wide strips of surgical tape held the cloth together. David arrived as I was taking a trial run down the corridor with a set of wooden crutches. The bulk of the cast forced me to lean on my left foot to compensate, making me move like a drunk. David smiled and rubbed his goatee thoughtfully while I approached.
“Perhaps I could interest you in one of my legendary massages.” Erhardt bowed and made a sweeping gesture with his hand.
“You gonna help me out of here or do I walk back to your hotel?” I wobbled crazily on the crutches and almost lost my balance.
“I am your chauffeur. Walk this way.” David turned and strolled toward the door.
“If I could walk that way, I wouldn’t need crutches or a chauffeur,” I muttered.
Erhardt got me back to the inn and inside the lobby. I stopped to rest on a velvet armchair. My armpits were already turning raw from the handles of the crutches. David took them from me and propped them behind the registration desk.
"What would you like? Brunch? Perhaps some herbal tea?"
I shook my head. "I'm not hungry. But I'd kill for a hot bath."
He smiled widely. "No need to go to such lengths. A bath you want, a bath you shall have."
David Erhardt plucked me off the chair as if I were a rag doll and carted me up the stairs. He didn't break a sweat by the time he got me to our room. I was impressed. Erhardt is a good three inches shorter than Malone. He didn't strike me as the physical type. Maybe there was more to be said for living in the wilderness. He carried me into the bath, and eased me down on the lid of the toilet.
"Don't think I can handle this with my foot wrapped in plaster," I said, looking longingly at the tub.
"We northern types are quite resourceful." David spun the dials on the tub and began filling it with steaming hot water. Then he opened the cupboard beneath the sink and removed a large plastic bag and a roll of duct tape. "Surely my dear, you do not believe that you are the first guest to ever break a bone skiing. Our suites are all stocked with the proper equipment."
He slipped the plastic over my cast and strapped it securely with the tape. When the tub was full, he closed the pipe and stepped back. I was still wearing my sweater and jeans and he'd made no attempt to help me remove them.
"Yvonne will be up in a moment to assist you. She will also return to help you out of the tub. Malone is due back at noon. I have sent word to the ski lodge, informing him of your arrival."
"You're very considerate, David. Thank you for everything."
"All part of the service. I'll send Yvonne along." He gave me one of his little bows and ducked out of the room. I managed to get my sweater off and unhook my jeans before I heard a gentle tap at the door. In came a big round woman, wearing a loose white jacket and black and white checked pants. She had large rosy cheeks and a wide friendly smile. Strands of silver gray hair were tucked under a bright blue bandana.
"Mr. Erhardt asked me to help you. I'm afraid there are no other women on duty today." Her voice was loud and friendly, with a hint of laughter.
“Thanks. I could use a hand."
Yvonne's smile grew. "More likely you could use a leg. Let's get those things off and get you in."
When I was naked, she steadied me long enough to help me into the tub. The water felt heavenly on my sore body. Without asking, Yvonne turned on the whirlpool system and nodded as I slouched down into the streams.
"I will be back shortly. I have a cake in the oven that needs my attention. If I leave it to Mr. Erhardt, it will end up in the garbage." Yvonne waved as she closed the bathroom door.
I lathered up with the scented bar of soap and began to relax as the heat soaked away my aches. My mind went back to the strange dream I had this morning, with Malone deliberately knocking me off the edge of the gravel pit. It just didn't make any sense. Why would he want to hurt me?
Maybe whatever painkillers they had given me had caused these silly thoughts. Malone wouldn't hurt me.
Would he?
* * * *
Something was very wrong! The water around me was ice cold and pulling me deeper. I opened my eyes and saw Malone kneeling beside the tub, dressed in his ski outfit. His arms were stuck into the water and his hands were clutching my shoulders. He was forcing me under.
I struggled against him and tried to push off the bottom of the tub, but he was too strong for me. If only I could break the surface of the water, I could breathe. I twisted and bucked against him, feeling the fire at my side as my ribs turned in protest.
Suddenly he pulled and yanked my head out of the water. Gagging and gasping, I drew in deep gulps of sweet air. The pain in my ribs subsided. Malone held me, one arm around my back for support.
"Christ, Jamie that was a stupid thing to do!"
"You tried to drown me, Malone!" I wanted to push him away but didn't have the strength.
"What? I came in and you were barely breathing. I thought you were dead! You must have fallen asleep and slipped under." He pulled one of the thick towels off the rack and wiped my face. I noticed his hands were shaking. Malone reached over and opened the drain, then lifted me out of the tub.
"I can get out by myself!" I was getting tired of being treated like an invalid.
"Yeah, just like you can take a bath by yourself," Malone said angrily. "You almost drowned. You should know better than to do a fool stunt like that."
"Shut up, Malone!" I slapped his face, hard.
"Hey, what the-"
"Stop treating me like some stupid kid." I was mad now, no longer frightened.
"Hey, let's talk about this," Malone said, stepping away from me.
I rocked back on the cast and sat slowly on the toilet seat. "Leave me alone. Just leave me the fuck alone!"
"Okay. You got it." He left the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
I used another towel to dry off and give myself something to do. Subconsciously, I reached into the tub and felt the last of the cold water as it was flowing down the drain. There was a gentle rap at the door.
"Go to hell!" I snapped.
"It's Yvonne. Can I help?"
I felt stupid. "Sure, come in."
The smile was gone from her face as she peeked around the edge of the door. "I am so sorry I didn't come back as soon as I should have. Mr. Erhardt had a few people arrive for luncheon, and I am the only cook on duty until this evening."
The image of Malone hovering above the tub remained before my eyes. "How long has it been since you left, Yvonne?"
"About an hour, Miss. I am very sorry. Can I help you with anything?" Her face showed no trace of the humor I'd seen earlier. She undid the tape and removed the plastic wrapper from my cast.
"Sure. Give me a hand getting into the bedroom. I've got some clean things in there." I gave her the best smile I could muster.
She brightened visibly. "Of course." Firmly she slipped a big arm around my waist and helped me stump my way to the bed. I fished a clean pair of panties out of my suitcase, and a camisole. Yvonne helped me put the rib belt back in place then slip the camisole and a heavy woolen sweater over my head. The jeans were the same ones I'd worn earlier. I felt better when I was dressed. Yvonne relaxed and went back to her kitchen. Malone came in with my crutches and leaned against the wall.
"Hey, Jay."
"Hey, Malone."
"You okay?"
"I'm better. Sorry if I was acting like such a shit. Must have been some residual effect from the painkillers they gave me. What happened?"
He shrugged. "I came back when I got David's message. When I went into the bath, you were floating below the surface. I grabbed you and tried to bring you around, but you kept fighting me. For a while there, I thought I'd lost you."
"I must have passed out. When I came to, you were standing above me, with your hands on my neck. I thought you were trying to hold me under."
"That's crazy, Jamie!" His face went red with anger.
"I know," I muttered, unable to look at him anymore.
Malone walked over and knelt before me. "Why don't we get out of here? We could head back to the city and be there in time for dinner."
"I thought you wanted to stay tonight? We could travel tomorrow morning."
Malone shook his head. "This weekend hasn't been exactly what I planned. Let's go home. You'll feel more comfortable in your own place."
I nodded. It didn't take much to convince me. As much as I liked Erhardt's Inn, nothing sounded as safe right now as being in my own home.
We got back to my apartment around seven Monday night and Malone helped me get settled in. He ran around the corner to the Korean Garden restaurant and brought back enough food for ten people. We ate everything. I moved to the Jewish Aunt and managed to prop my cast on the coffee table. By hugging the arm of the sofa, I was able to stay upright. Malone sat beside me.
"Hey, Jay," he said softly.
"Hey, Malone." I turned my head to look at him closely. There was a quality in his eyes I'd never seen before. It took me a moment to realize it was sadness.
"You don't really think I could do anything to hurt you, do you, Jamie?"
"No. But you have to admit, it was a pretty painful weekend for me." I saw his eyes soften. It made me feel better. But there was still a dark corner in my mind where doubt was jumping up and down, crying out for attention. Sometimes you have to ignore those signals. This was one of those times.
"But there were some good points, weren't there?"
I nodded. "Yeah, skiing was fun. And I was enjoying the snowmobiles. Next time, we'll stay away from the gravel pits."
He leaned close and kissed the bottom of my ear. "What about the room? And the meals? And the fireplace? And the massage?" he whispered.
"Okay, that was good too." Doubt's corner began to grow dimmer. "I guess the weekend wasn't a total loss."
"Glad to hear it." His lips moved around and found mine. They were soft and warm, almost melting. When he kissed me like that, it became difficult to determine where Malone ended and I began. We just blended into each other. "Want me to split so you can get some rest?" he whispered.
Any possible reservations I had about him were vanishing fast. There was no room in my head for anything negative. A soft glow shrouded every thought, every rationalization and emotion. I had difficulty remembering the question.
"What will I do if I need a drink of water in the middle of the night?"
"Just whistle." His lips began to work their way down my neck, nibbling at my collarbone.
"I never learned how to whistle." Speech was becoming extremely complex.
"Maybe you could groan or something," Malone suggested.
I moaned his name. It was a hoarse little whisper that caught on the edge of my lips. "Like that?"
"Close enough."
It was another evening of firsts. I'd never made love with my leg in a cast or busted ribs before. Of course, I'd never broken my ribs or ankle before meeting Malone. If anyone had ever suggested the act, I wouldn't have believed it possible. But Malone elevated my cast on pillows and supported his weight on his wrists and knees. Only the important parts met. Later, I dropped into a deep sleep, wrapped tenderly in his arms.
In the morning he fixed me breakfast in bed, then ran off to stock my fridge. I figured out how to prop my cast on the garbage can beside my desk, and still work my computer. Malone stopped back on his way to the station to check on me. He brought a bunch of clothes with him, so he could spend the night, and take care of me when he got off duty. Neither one of us mentioned how serious things were getting.
Shannon Ripley called late Tuesday afternoon.
“Don’t you return your calls anymore?” There was just a hint of exasperation in her voice. Or maybe it was jealousy.
Embarrassed, I glanced at my machine. The little red light was blinking rapidly. Who thinks about phone calls after the weekend I had? “Sorry, I got in late last night.”
“From where?”
“Never mind. Do I have to play the tape, or are you going to tell what you want?”
Shannon sighed and exhaled deeply. Either she had lost track of which day it was or she was bending her cigarette rule. I know she doesn’t smoke in public and the walls of her office don’t give away her vice with a nicotine tinge. “Myerson called yesterday.”
My book editor. “And?”
“He read your revisions.” Another extended breath.
“Well, don’t rush to tell me, Shannon.” She could be exasperating when she wanted to be. “What did he say?”
“He loved them. He wants to know if you’ll marry him.”
I knew the last part was a dig. Myerson preferred men. It was one of the few things we had in common. “Maybe in another lifetime.”
Shannon shifted gears. “How’s the new one coming? The story about the patrol cops?”
I blushed. “I’m still doing the research.”
“Seems to me you’ve been spending a great deal of time researching this project. That’s rather unusual for you, Jamie. Could this have anything to do with your absence since Friday?”
What the hell. Shannon knew me well enough by now. “Yes. He’s got everything to do with it.”
“Tell me all about him, sweetie. I want to hear every juicy morsel there is. Start with his name.”
I didn’t want to do this. Not now. “His name is Malone. Look, Shannon, I really don’t have time right now to go into detail. Later on, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”
There was a snap of a lighter and another huff of air against the phone. Shannon must be chain smoking, wherever she was. “As long as it’s a promise, Jamie. Give my best to Malone. Just the mention of his name gives me the tingles.”
“I know the feeling. We’ll talk on Friday.”
“Try to have an outline ready. It’s easier to sell if I know what’s going to happen.”
“Yes, Mom. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You can be such a smartass, Jamie.”
“Yeah, I can. And the worst part is I seem to attract other smartasses.”
I could hear her chuckling deep in her throat. “Touché. Call me Friday.”
“Bye, Shannon.”
“Ciao.”
I summoned up the file on the computer and reread my notes. At the bottom where Kleinschmidt had left a warning, I quickly noted the strange encounter on Saturday with the girl who might have been Melissa Hatcher. Then I did something really stupid. I entered all my thoughts about the weekend with Malone. Not just the romantic stuff, but about the accident at the gravel pit and my dozing off in the warm tub. Don't ask me why. I said it was stupid.