Читать книгу Without You - Mary Baxter Lynn - Страница 12

Darcy Cox didn’t bother to answer Hallie. Instead she brushed past her, then collapsed onto the sofa in dramatic fashion, muttering obscenities under her breath. Hallie smothered a sigh and tried to control her mounting temper and burgeoning frustration.

She couldn’t count the times Darcy had arrived unexpectedly, behaving in this manner. Each time it happened, Hallie swore she’d use tough love and send her sister on her way to fend for herself. To date, she hadn’t lived up to that unspoken promise.

What a waste. It was the first thought that jumped to Hallie’s mind as she looked at Darcy, head back and eyes closed. Even though she was only twenty-five, Darcy was a mess emotionally and physically.

Still, she was attractive, with blondish red hair, green eyes and a small-boned figure that she used to full advantage. She had been married twice already and had a daughter by her second husband, who had custody of the child—a fact that broke Hallie’s heart.

While Hallie adored Darcy, her sister was an ongoing disappointment. She only came around when she needed money or a place to camp out. Hallie had gotten her a job as a girl Friday with an advertising firm. But Hallie suspected she had lost that job and was back to her favorite pastime—spending time in bars.

Hallie had long believed her sister was an alcoholic, though Darcy refused to admit or accept it. Still, despite her promises to herself, Hallie always gave in when Darcy was in need, such as now.

“I know you’re pissed,” Darcy said, finally opening her eyes and fixing her gaze on Hallie.

“Concerned is a better word,” Hallie replied in a mild tone, despite her clenched insides.

Darcy gave her head a shake, her long silky hair swirling around her face and shoulders. “Yeah, right.” Her tone had grown sullen.

Hallie fought the urge to grab her and shake her. “Have you been drinking?” She hadn’t smelled alcohol on Darcy, but that didn’t mean anything. Vodka was often Darcy’s liquor of choice, especially when she wanted to conceal her drinking.

“No,” Darcy said, grabbing a pillow off the sofa and clutching it against her chest, her eyes turning venomous. “Why do you always think that?”

“Because it’s most always true.”

“It is not.”

“You look like hell, Darcy. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”

“Will you just get off my case, for heaven’s sake?”

Hallie thinned her lips. “Okay. So what do you want?”

“What makes you think I want something?”

This was also part of the game—act innocent, then pounce.

“I’ve had a bad day myself,” Hallie said, “not that you’re interested—” Her voice cracked. “Let’s cut to the chase before this conversation really turns nasty.”

“You hate me, don’t you.”

“No, Darcy, I don’t hate you. If I did, I wouldn’t keep letting you tramp all over me.”

Darcy muttered a nasty word. “No matter how hard I try, I can never be as perfect as you.” Her tone was bitter and full of hostility.

Hallie cringed. “I don’t recall ever expecting you to be like me.”

“You never said that, but I can read it in your eyes. You think I’m a failure.” She clutched the pillow tighter, and her eyes and voice grew fiercer. “But I’m not.”

Hallie bit down on her lower lip to refrain from retaliating. It would only add insult to injury. Anything she could say now would only add rich fuel to an already out-of-control fire. But none of what Darcy had said was true. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Hallie had gone overboard for her sister’s welfare, her efforts all stemming from unselfish love. However, Darcy would never be convinced of that, especially when she was in such a state, which was the majority of the time now. An overindulgence in alcohol never failed to alter her personality.

When she wasn’t in such wild disarray, Darcy had a sweet, vulnerable side that touched not only Hallie but others with whom her sister came in contact. Her smile, when turned on full wattage, could charm a canary out of a cat’s mouth.

“How can I help?” Hallie finally asked into the long silence.

“I’d like something to eat.” Although Darcy’s tone still bordered on the sullen, at least she wasn’t in attack mode.

“How ’bout a bowl of soup?” Hallie couldn’t contain her eagerness. Darcy was far too thin, which Hallie was certain indicated she drank most of her meals. The idea that she might actually eat a meal was encouraging. “Or a chicken salad sandwich?”

The food had come from the deli near her firm, but both choices were excellent. Since she rarely cooked, Hallie had made it a point to find the best takeout places. Food was not a top priority for her, either, but not for the same reason as Darcy’s, thank goodness.

Darcy frowned, then shrugged her slender shoulders. “I’ll take the soup.”

Moments later, Hallie returned to the living room with a steaming bowl of vegetable soup and crackers. Unfortunately, Darcy only sipped two spoonfuls before shoving the bowl aside with a deeper frown. “That’s all I can eat.”

Hallie noticed that she looked green, but refrained from voicing her thoughts, not wanting to set Darcy off again. “Would you like to crash here for the night?”

“No.”

“Please. You look exhausted.” And ill, Hallie wanted to add, but again she kept her mouth shut.

“I need some money.”

Hallie’s heart sank. “What for?”

“Because I need it,” Darcy flared.

“Not good enough.”

“Damn you, Hallie. You’ve got more money than you can spend. Why make me beg?”

Hallie closed her eyes and counted to ten. She didn’t need this. Not today, not when she’d had the bricks knocked out from under her by Jackson’s unexpected appearance. Even now, thinking back on that moment made her weak all over.

“How much money I have is beside the point. If you’re going to buy more booze—”

Darcy lunged off the sofa, her sunken eyes blazing against her pale features. “All right, already,” she cried. “There’s a warrant out for my arrest.”

Hallie grabbed the back of the chair to keep her knees from buckling. “Oh, Darcy.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. It’s for speeding tickets that I haven’t paid.”

Hallie suspected the explanation was a bald-faced lie. On second thought, maybe it wasn’t. Darcy knew it would be easy enough for Hallie to check that out. “How much do you need?”

Darcy told her. She went to her purse and counted out the bills. Once Darcy had stuffed the money into her jeans pocket, she turned and headed toward the door, only to pause, bend over and groan.

Hallie raced to her side. “What’s wrong?”

Darcy’s reply was to empty the contents of her stomach onto the hardwood floor.

Frightened and mortified, Hallie said, “Come on, let me help you to bed.”

Darcy shook her head. “No, I have to go.”

“But you’re sick.”

“It’ll pass. It always does.”

“You mean this has been happening consistently?”

“For a while. After I eat, mostly.”

“Darcy, please, don’t leave. You need help.”

“I got what I needed.” With that, she opened the door and disappeared into the night.

Sick at heart, Hallie dropped her head into her hands, her body trembling. What was wrong with Darcy? You didn’t just throw up all the time without reason.

Pregnancy?

Waves of horror went through Hallie. Was that why Darcy had come and why she’d wanted money?

Hallie closed her eyes and felt the tears saturate her face.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were back?”

At the sound of Terrance’s voice, Jackson turned and absently gestured with his hand. “I just needed some time alone.”

“Want me to leave?”

“No. Have a seat.”

“How ’bout I pour us a drink?”

Jackson shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ve already tried that.”

“Drinking yourself into oblivion, huh?”

“That’s about the size of it.” Jackson shoved a hand through his already mussed hair, then added, “But help yourself.”

“Nah, I’ve had my quota for the evening.” Terrance hitched his pants and sat down in one of the plush leather chairs near Jackson’s desk.

“So how are things going in the club tonight?” Jackson asked.

“So far it’s a good night, especially for a Wednesday.”

“If we have any crowd at all midweek, it’s great. I’d almost forgotten what day it is, so much has happened.”

“I’ve lined up several interviews with bands,” Terrance said, rubbing his mustache. “I’ve already heard two of them and both were damn good.”

“So it seems like we’re not going to have any trouble finding the best.” It felt good to talk about business, something mundane, and far afield from the troubles haunting him.

Terrance’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t go that far, unless we’re willing to pay some hefty bucks, but at least we have some choices.”

“Well, just keep me posted.” Jackson released a sigh. “Right now, the band’s not top priority on my agenda.”

“Doesn’t need to be.” Terrance’s tone was matter-of-fact. “That’s why you have me.”

“Believe me, I’m grateful for your loyalty.”

“No problem.” Terrance transferred his attention to stroking his beard. “Want to tell me how it went with Hallie, or is that off-limits?”

Jackson felt himself come alive. “It was great seeing her, actually. She’s as lovely and feisty as ever.”

“Damn shame the two of you didn’t make it. I thought you were a match made in heaven.”

Jackson’s gut twisted. “So did I, only she had other ideas.”

“I never really knew what busted you two up. I suspected Roberta had something to do with it, but since you never actually said—” Terrance seemed deliberately to leave his sentence open-ended, as if hoping for a pickup from Jackson.

Jackson wasn’t about to take the bait. The details of what had transpired between him and Hallie two years ago were under lock and key in his heart. Just seeing and thinking about her, what they had shared, had left his heart in shreds. He wasn’t a glutton for more punishment.

“So back to your dilemma,” Terrance said, as if realizing he’d pushed as far as he could. “How did Hallie receive you? Or is that off-limits as well?”

“Of course not.” Jackson’s return was sharper than he had intended, but then his nerves were already stretched to the max and the nightmare was just beginning. The fact he was a suspect in Roberta’s death would soon hit the papers, which would negate any secrecy or privacy. Besides, he owed Terrance an explanation.

“I’m sure when she walked in and saw me, it soured her day.” He tried to keep his voice light.

“Did she say that?”

“No, but she wasn’t jumping through hoops to welcome me, either.”

Terrance smiled before sighing deeply. Then he said, “Maybe I will have a drink.” He stood and eyed Jackson. “Sure you won’t join me?”

Jackson hesitated but only for a second. “Yeah, I think I will. A beer, maybe.”

The room fell silent while Terrance mixed his drink, then retrieved a beer for Jackson. The silence continued as they sipped on the beverages.

“Did she recommend someone in her firm to represent you?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“You’re damn lucky there. That firm’s the best in town.”

“I want Hallie to represent me.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I wouldn’t joke about that.” Jackson’s tone was harsh.

“No, no you wouldn’t,” Terrance replied, sounding troubled. “But Hallie’s not a bona fide criminal attorney, right?”

“Right, but she’s still my choice.”

Terrance’s eyebrows shot up. “So is she? Going to take you on, I mean?”

“For now.”

“What a helluva mess this has turned out to be.” If Terrance only knew the rest of the story. To date, he hadn’t revealed the fact that organized crime was trying to shove him out his own door. He was convinced he could handle the situation on his own and in his own way.

He hadn’t changed his mind, but the added stress of being under suspicion of murder certainly didn’t work in his favor. Still, he had no intention of laying his cards on the table to anyone. Not yet, anyway.

“Surely you won’t be arrested,” Terrance said into the silence.

“Let’s hope. My gut tells me this Gomez fellow thinks I’m as guilty as sin and aims to take me on.”

“That was my impression, too. Most likely he’s trying to make a name for himself, and he sees this case as the way to do it.”

“Who knows? But I’m not going to put up with much from him, I can tell you that.”

Terrance smiled. “Knowing you, I wouldn’t think so. He’s more than met his match, but I don’t think he realizes it.” Terrance’s smile widened. “When he does, he’ll back off.”

“Hallie won’t put up with him, either. When he didn’t have anything substantial to hold me on, she whisked me out of there in nothing flat.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Terrance took a healthy gulp from his glass. “What’s the next step?”

“I’m supposed to meet with their big criminal gun in the morning.” Jackson shrugged. “She’s insisting, so I have no choice.”

“You’d better look on it as a gift. If this thing turns nasty, and it very well could, then it may take both of them to keep you out of jail.”

“You’re a lot of comfort,” Jackson responded drolly.

“It’s the truth and you know it.”

Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, his muscles as tight as violin strings. “You’re right, I do. It’s just that—” He broke off, suddenly tired of talking. He was mentally and emotionally drained. However, he knew that if he went home and tried to sleep, his efforts would be in vain. His body and mind were on fire.

Besides, he needed to go into the club and make his usual rounds to the customers’ tables. He wanted to make sure they were happy and contented and getting their money’s worth. After all, satisfying the clientele was his strong suit and his main job.

As if the silence unnerved him, Terrance stood. “I guess I’d best get back out front. I need to make sure the DJ’s pleasing the dancers.”

“I was thinking the same thing—about going out front, that is.”

“I can handle things.”

“I don’t doubt it, but I need the personal contact, especially right now. I don’t particularly want to be alone with my thoughts.”

“I understand. But it’s going to be all right. Hallie’s a fireball who burns anyone who gets in her way. She’ll have Gomez straightened out in no time.”

For the first time that evening, Jackson grinned. “That’s one reason why I went to her.”

“But it’s not the only reason?”

“Yes, it is,” Jackson said coldly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to step out of bounds—”

Terrance left, leaving Jackson alone with his unsettling thoughts.