WindSwept Narrows: #17 Pepper Ambrose Read online

  “You also know better about that,” Cassidy patted her on the head and handed the bag to Mariah. “Got some place we can get this analyzed? Find out what he ate?”

  “I can get it done,” Eli took the food and Mariah’s hand. “Good night, Pepper. Chase is tough…he’ll be fine.”

  “Thanks…bye…” Pepper closed the door and set the lock before turning her shoulders against it and sliding to the floor. There in the silence of the suite, she let go of all the frustration and fear inside her. Quiet, alone and curled against the door.

  ****

  Mac glanced at the closed door as they went to the elevator.

  “She’s going to bolt on him,” he said flatly.

  “How else should she handle it?” Cassidy asked quietly.

  “Not by kicking him out of her life,” Eli answered bluntly.

  “And how much does she take before she cracks?” Mariah tossed in.

  “Once more…twice…maybe the third time he’s hurt, it’s more serious,” Cassidy leaned into Mac with a sigh. “No matter what she does, it’s going to hurt one of them.”

  “Then we need to find out how to help it not hurt,” Eli said firmly. “First thing is to pin point where the father is. You can’t just get an idea and poof, you have someone on the hook who can sprinkle poison on someone’s food. Not from across the damn country.”

  “I bet Chase already has that information and I’d also bet Monday morning, he’s going be alert and totally pissed off,” Mac said with a nod. “I’ll call him Sunday and see if we can talk…there’s got to be something we can make happen.”

  ****

  Pepper finally managed to stop the tears and went into the bedroom to find Chase’s phone. She took it into the other room and slid it open. She found the directory, grit her teeth to make her fingers top shaking and tapped through the directory.

  “Greg, I know it’s late, but I needed…” She began leaving her message, jumping visibly when the voice came through the phone.

  “I’m here, Chase. What did you need?”

  “It’s…it’s me, Greg, Pepper. Umm…I need you to come get us tomorrow. Maybe about ten-thirty, please. Chase…Chase is sick…I had a doctor for him but he’s kind of out of it and I don’t think I can get him to the car by myself.”

  “Miss Ambrose, do you want me to come tonight?”

  “No…no…it’s okay…she gave him something for the headache and he’s sleeping. She says he’ll be fine…fine…but tomorrow…”

  “Miss Ambrose, it’s not a problem. I’ll park it and come in and help you with the luggage. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do tonight?”

  “No…please…I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  “It isn’t a bother. Are you alright?”

  “Oh, yeah…no…I’m a mess…but I can’t be a mess because Chase needs me to not be a mess…so I’m good. Tomorrow. Thank you. Good night.” She closed his phone and carried it with her to the bedroom, setting it on the nightstand and going to the other side.

  So much wanted to burst from inside her.

  “Pepper?” Chase pushed his arms behind him, ignored the stomach lurching, ignored the dull thudding inside his head and forced himself to think clearly.

  “I’m here…” She swallowed hard, pushed the tears away and slid beneath the blankets. “Right here…lay back…close your eyes. Mariah said you should sleep till morning.”

  “Are you alright? Did you get sick?” Chase fought to think. He could tell he was still wearing clothes. He felt her at his side, turning with a low groan and letting it slide into a sigh when she surrounded him with her arms, his face pressed against the soft side of her breast.

  “No…no…I’m alright…shhh…go to sleep…we’ll go back in the morning…” she told him, holding tightly to his shoulders until she felt his breathing steady off. Only then did the tears slip to the pillow beneath her head.

  Pepper heard the noise. Shower. Groans that were muffled. Eyes that she should have taken contacts out of were dry and stung when she blinked and blinked some more.

  “Chase! What’re you doing out of bed? You need to sleep and rest…”

  “I did that all night,” he returned, his throat feeling a little more normal. Not a lot, but a little more. He walked toward the bed, tossed two vials with pills into the small case he’d brought with him and sat on the side of the bed, watching her. “You’re alright?”

  “Yes…did Mariah talk to you last night?” Pepper slipped to the floor and came around the bed, her hand up and brushing the hair from the edge of his glasses.

  “I’d like to say yes…because I remember a stern female voice ordering me around and asking questions,” he was relieved when it brought a little smile to her face. “I’m not real sure what all she said…or even what happened. But you’re alright…” He kept staring at her.

  “I didn’t get sick, Chase,” she backed up, looking around for her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

  He had a rough idea how long she’d be in the bathroom and lifted his phone once the water began. “Mac…I heard you here last night. Pepper isn’t talking…what the hell happened?”

  “I take it you’re feeling a little better?” Mac watched Cassidy go through her yoga routine in the room they’d set up for her.

  “I feel like shit.”

  “Mariah said you would for a day or so. We took the dinner from your plate to a lab and it’s being analyzed. No results yet.”

  “The…Pepper was eating the same thing.”

  “No, she wasn’t. Yours had tomatoes. She drank the wine, ate her food. You got sick about eight bites in, according to Pepper.”

  “And it’s being analyzed because…”

  “Pepper did a good impersonation of an exceptionally upset wife and got management to pull the security footage. Guy traveled in the elevator until the food cart and waiter got on at the kitchen level. Waiter was distracted with loud music in the guy’s music player. Never noticed him checking the covers and sprinkling something over the plate with tomatoes,” Mac listened to the hard cursing on the other end. “Yeah.”

  “And Pepper isn’t talking much because she’s drowning in guilt,” Chase ground his teeth together.

  “Cassidy tried getting through to her…it’s a tough spot…how many times does she let you get hurt because she’s got a crazy parent? How much stress is there going to be worrying when it’s going to happen? We talked about that on the way home. I wouldn’t know what to advise or what to do,” Mac admitted dryly.

  “Guess I better find some food and prepare for the battle,” Chase thanked Mac and closed his phone. He was lying on the sofa when she came out, instantly crossing the large open space and dropping to his side.

  “Chase?”

  He heard the almost frantic fear in her voice and pulled himself back from the places his mind had wandered. He had his things packed and sitting by the door.

  “I’m okay, Pepper…I’m okay,” he blinked behind his lenses, noticed hers were in place and her eyes were red. “You’ve been crying,” he said softly, urging her to lay over him on the sofa. She pulled away and shook her head.

  “I’ve got to finish getting my stuff. I…you need to rest…please…I’m not sure what you can eat…something that won’t upset your stomach…” She climbed to her feet and went to the bedroom, eyes squeezed tight behind her glasses.

  Chase straightened up and went into the kitchenette. He didn’t order room service, glad now that something held him off. She came out with her backpack and small case, leaving them next to the door and stiffening a little more when he came toward her, lifting their cases and opening the door.

  “Chase…”

  “Downstairs in the restaurant. Breakfast. I called Mariah and was told I could have poached eggs and toast, no coffee…right now I’d kill for coffee,” he said with a low growl when she took her case from him. “I can…”

  “I can manage my own case, Chase, it’s not that heavy,” she told
him, quickly turning her back on him and moving through the open door. She watched him set his case in the door and do a brisk walk through in the room before joining her. Together they waited for the elevator and when it arrived, she stepped inside and kept moving to the back when he came forward and crowded her into the corner. “Chase?”

  “You are not running from me,” he told her grimly.

  “I…uhh…seem to be trapped in a corner, actually…not running anywhere…”

  “I talked to Mac. I know what the consensus is about why I got sick and you didn’t,” he saw the red heat strike her cheeks. “Did you believe I wouldn’t ask, Pepper?”

  “I knew you would find out,” she said quietly, her eyes closed against the expression on his face.

  “This is not your fault,” he wondered how many times he was going to have to repeat those words. “Are those words getting through, Pepper?” He watched the stubborn tilt of her chin, the pale lashes narrowed against his tone.

  That’s what he wanted, hot anger.

  Directed at him. That he could battle back and in place. Her tears buckled him.

  “We’ve stopped.” She looked straight ahead, past his shoulder.

  “We’re leaving these at the desk and having breakfast. We have ninety minutes before Greg is due to pick us up. I have a side trip to make, but since it’s Sunday, I didn’t think you had anything planned for the day,” he watched her closely, refusing to meet his gaze. His hand went to her waist, guiding her to the restaurant once she’d handed her case over to the receptionist.

  “I am not going to argue with you out here,” she said tensely. She had her plan inside her head. She had to get her things out of his suite at the resort. She had to lock him out of her head and her life.

  “Arguments are only for private consumption? You only want to hurt me in private?” He asked flippantly, his gaze hard and flat when she looked at him, satisfaction inside him when she jerked herself forward. “Two for breakfast, please. Montgomery.”

  “Arguing is pointless since you refuse to listen to reason. If I’d…” she bit her lip and snapped her mouth shut.

  “We’ll order now, two poached eggs with sourdough toast for me, please.” He sighed at the pursed lips and clasp hands on the table. “My wife will have a ham and cheese omelet and sourdough with hash browns and orange juice, please.”

  “Why…” Pepper waited before leaning over the table, her voice a low hiss. “Why are you telling people that? Calling me that?”

  “It fits us. I like it,” he answered without remorse, reclining and stretching out his legs beneath the table. “Can we talk about it now, Pepper?”

  “I am so sorry you were sick. I…I would do anything to stop that from happening again,” she whispered fervently. “I will do anything I can to make certain it doesn’t happen to you again, Chase.”

  “Including making me miserable? Making yourself miserable?” He was surprised he was able to keep his voice low and level. Surprised he kept himself from reaching for her and shaking her, forcing her to look at him instead of the goblet of water she was studying.

  “Including keeping you healthy and well.”

  “I don’t have a say in that decision?”

  “You aren’t being rational,” she hissed furiously, her hands shaking and releasing the glass of water to keep it from sloshing to the table top. “Mac told me about…that he’s been listening…I never thought…didn’t understand how he always knew…always found out…I’m not…I can’t even have friends without worrying…”

  “Mac removed them, Pepper. The apartment is clean now. He can’t hear you,” Chase felt a twinge and he wasn’t sure if it was residual intestinal pain or the tears she was working to keep blinked in place.

  “But he knows.”

  “Have you ever asked him why?”

  “Oh god...Chase…” she put her elbows on the table, her hands over her face. She dragged in a ragged breath and reached for her pack, opening the slide string and rummaging, coming up with a small snapped notebook. She set it in front of him. “I thought I was…crazy. I thought I was paranoid…I listened to the counselors when I was fifteen…I believed that I was the one who imagined things that weren’t real,” she whispered earnestly. “He always made them believe it was me!”

  Chase frowned and opened the little book, the dates and carefully printed words over the clean white pages. He noted the beginning date and the last one, three years earlier. And the date from yesterday that she hadn’t completed yet. Over fifteen years of accounts, comments, people.

  “I thought…time…surely the man has other things more important to do than care…than give a crap who I have as friends!” She dropped the pack at her feet, her head shaking as their food appeared. “Thank you.”

  Chase closed the little book and set it on his lap for the moment, his gaze shifting to the man approaching the table.

  “Mr. Montgomery? If I could…a moment, please,” he looked from one to the other apologetically.

  “Of course. Is there a problem?”

  “Hal Justin, I’m the executive manager and I want to apologize for the…I hope you’re feeling better,” he said with a deep sigh.

  “It’s not your fault,” Pepper said softly, chewing quickly and swallowing but barely tasting her food.

  “She’s right, Mr. Justin. I’m not holding the hotel at all libel,” Chase extended his palm. “Pepper tells me you were most helpful to her requests and I appreciate that. It’s up to us to find a way to stop it.”

  “Your attitude is refreshing, Mr. Montgomery, Mrs. Montgomery. Thank you. I’d like to offer you another night in the roof suite when you need or want it,” he smiled and went off after telling them good bye.

  Pepper shifted uncomfortably in her chair, slicing silently into her omelet and chewing, drinking her juice and doing her best to not look at Chase.

  “Seems there’s a lot of guilt to go around,” he remarked, biting into his toast and relaxed when his stomach offered nothing more than a grumble of gratitude. “I’m sorry for what you went through last night, Pepper.” He felt his inside clench when tear filled eyes flew to his. “Holding a guy’s head for him isn’t what I’d term a grand night out.” His breath caught in his chest and he reached for her hand. “Pepper…”

  “I was so worried, Chase! I…we were eating and talking and having wine…and then…oh, god…” her palm covered her lips and she was up, her head shaking as she raced toward the restroom sign. She didn’t hear him cursing to himself or throw his napkin to the table, ten fingers shoved through his hair.

  “Mr. Montgomery? Is there a problem?” The waiter was at the table, hands wringing and genuine concern on his face.

  “Please…no…no, the food is excellent, and…it’s personal…” Chase sat up and worked on finishing his eggs and toast, waiting, checking his watch and feeling the tension unwind when she returned to the table and started eating. “Pepper…”

  “I’m alright. I…last night…I bit my lip and pinched myself to keep myself from breaking down in front of my friends…from cracking when you needed me…” She lifted the glass and drained the juice in one swallow. “I think it’s just…broke…”

  “Pepper, we…you and I…we will find a way to stop him,” Chase reached over, tipping her chin up when she pushed her plate back. “Please believe that.” She reluctantly nodded and for the moment, that’s what he had to expect. “I’ll go settle up with the front desk…how about you check and see if Greg’s outside? I’ll get the SUV delivered later this week.”

  “Alright,” she slipped her pack on her shoulders and crossed the almost sparkling white lobby, weak sunlight streaming through the massive collection of windows and light tubes over-head. She saw Greg pulling into the roundabout and waved, stepping to the back door when the vehicle stopped.

  Chapter Ten

  “Is he alright, Miss Ambrose?” Greg stepped out of the car, looking around.

  “He’s checking out…he’s got t
he luggage…”

  “I’ll help.”

  Pepper opened the back door and flung her pack onto the seat, her arms crossed over one another and her head in the middle as they rested on the roof of the car.

  How had she fallen so easily into the world that was so very different than hers? And it felt comfortable, it felt…right. With Chase at her side, it felt good. Did she have enough strength to fight to keep him? She sighed thickly. Do you fight to keep him safe by running or fight to keep you together by staying? And risking his life…

  The slamming of the trunk brought her back, her head up and a shiver racing through her. She blinked at the frosted silver tub with a huge bottle of champagne inside it and two glasses in Chase’s hands.

  “What’s that for?”

  “Celebration while we drive to a short meeting I have to attend,” Chase gestured inside, nodding absently to Greg before sliding over the seat, the door closing and giving them privacy and silence.

  “We’re celebrating?”

  “Hmm…we would have last night…the completion of the negotiations,” he told her, working the wire off the cork. He laughed and she ducked into the far corner, arms up and over her head. “Hey…I’m a professional here…” silly that a little giggle from her made him smile as the cork slid free, the customary puff of frosted smoke leaving the bottle before he tipped it over and poured. He placed the bottle back into the cold ice and handed her one from the tray. Concern was on her face as she looked from his glass to him. “It’s okay…I checked with Mariah. My breakfast is staying in place.”

  “Congratulations, Chase,” she leaned closer and kissed him before tasting and closing her eyes. “I don’t know how not to worry about you, Chase. I…I couldn’t sleep. I just kept seeing you…afraid…afraid someone would come back…I must have checked the locks a dozen times…” she emptied the glass, fingers nervously twisting it between her fingers.