The Michelangelo Blues By
J. Morgan Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.net
Triskelion Publishing 15327 W...
13 downloads
1194 Views
524KB Size
Report
This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form
The Michelangelo Blues By
J. Morgan Triskelion Publishing www.triskelionpublishing.net
Triskelion Publishing 15327 W. Becker Lane Surprise, AZ 85379 First e Published by Triskelion Publishing First e publishing October 2006 ISBN 1-933874-85-6
Copyright 2006 J Morgan All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher except, where permitted by law.
Ebook and cover design Triskelion Publishing.
Publisher’s Note. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to a person or persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Dedication This book is dedicated to my Grandmother, Mary Francis, who always made sure there was a book shoved under my nose. This one’s for you Nanny. Also, I’d like to send out a special thanks to Jenna Leigh and the rest of the coven, a better bunch of crazy people you couldn’t ask to meet.
The Michelangelo Blues
4
Chapter 1 Janis Stockwell was not amused. She gripped the steering wheel with an iron will. The whiteness of her knuckles in no way reflected the true height of the agitation she really felt. Only the squealing of tires truly expressed her feelings about the day she was having. Her normally sedate driving had erupted into a cross town demolition derby from hell. She was normally not one to let life’s little pratfalls get to her, but today was different. If anything, it could best be described as hell on a stick and that was being nice about it. Her driving did not improve the longer she thought about how badly her day had turned out. If anything, it got worse. The Ford Taurus hung an impossible right, as she turned onto Jefferson. She counted her lucky stars the local cops were busy elsewhere at this moment. The radar detector tucked under the dash was added insurance, not that Janis needed it. Luck was on her side. She had been able to dodge many a ticket by going the wrong speed in the right place. This was one of those days. She tried not to think about where she was going, or the reason she was forced to go there in the first place. The idea of what lay ahead of her was just so demeaning she dreaded the thought of it. If she had known taking the partnership involved endearing herself to the old boy network, she would have told them to kiss her ass. But, dammit, she deserved this partnership! For the past three years, she had worked her butt off, doing every menial job they could think to throw at her. She might have grumbled under her breath, but that was beside the point. She got the job done. In the end the senior partners had recognized her keen mind and aptitude for the job and this was the payoff. She might not be as well connected as some of the old money lawyers the firm employed, but she was twice the lawyer of any one of them. God knew half the time they couldn’t tear themselves from the country club to even come into the office for more than three hours a day. She spent sixteen hours a day doing all the work they didn’t have time for or just plain didn’t want to do. Janis had her own opinion on which one of those two was the reason. Janis wasn’t deluding herself. She knew the only reason she even got the partnership in the first place was the fact that she was a woman. She was nothing more than a token offer to the gods, make that goddesses of equal, rights to the firm’s gray-haired founding fathers. She could live with being the token woman. Anything was better than being forced to go back to the DA’s office. The key to the executive bathroom might not have been included with the title, but the rest of the perks were worth the aggravation. After years of being the office grunt, she would finally be able to pick her clients and her cases without having them thrust at her with a dismissive wave of the hand. She hated the condescension most of all. It was one of the reasons she left the DA’s office. If things had been different, she might have stayed. That wasn’t the truth, either. She left because she was tired of watching criminals go free who deserved more than a slap on the wrist because of whom they knew. It was hypocritical of her, she knew. She could have stayed and made a difference, not a big one, but a difference nonetheless. The nightmares had been the final straw. It was either get the hell out, or go crazy. She had opted for the latter and left anyway. The nightmares were still there. She was just better able to ignore them without having to look at case files every day so horrific they would make a saint cuss.
J. Morgan
5
Compared to those bad old days, today was almost a comedy. She had only been a partner of Coleman, McBride and Collier for three days. Not bad for a twenty-seven yearold woman from the wrong side of the tracks. Even if Bastille was her hometown, she was still considered an outsider by many of the people she found herself coming into contact with because of the part of town she happened to be born into. In Bastille, old family ties ran deep, and in most cases in a straight line, as if the whole town had a one-trunk family tree. Janis persevered. What did she care if she didn’t make the guest list at the country club? She hadn’t cared in high school and could care less, now. She was a damn fine lawyer and my friend was all that mattered. It wasn’t like she was a total pariah. She had her, albeit a small one, circle of friends who were always ready with a half gallon of Mocha Almond Fudge or a fifth of Tequila when the cause arose. It arose more than she would like to admit, so didn’t offer the tid-bit up for public consumption, unless cornered. Most people learned long ago she was not one to be pushed, so it worked out quite well for everyone involved. Today though, was a double half-gallon situation, if there ever was one. It started out rather nicely. She had arrived at the office early, just so she could have the office to herself for her first official day as a partner. The fact her new chair had arrived the evening before and she wanted to take it for a spin without anyone seeing her had nothing to do with it. So, don’t push. She’d had only two good spins, when Wallace Collier himself walked into her office, catching her in the act. It might have unsettled her, if he hadn’t been laughing like a schoolboy. The firm’s oldest partner then proceeded to show her the best way to get more spin out of the ungodly leather monstrosity. It was at that exact moment her day turned to shit. Wallace was only too happy to inform her she would spend the afternoon posing for her portrait, the first of many sessions, knowing her luck. When she asked him point-blank why, he said it was tradition and all the partners had done it since John Henry Coleman first sat in the big chair back in 1879. It was a sign of prestige to have a portrait among the august members who had gone before, he informed her with a smile. She knew the real reason, but was in no mood to fight. She was the token female, and they wanted to show their equal opportunity employee status off to the public. She should have seen it coming. Despite knowing the truth, Janis had convinced herself her skills as a lawyer had been the reason for the promotion. Wallace’s announcement had brought the truth crashing down around her ears. She was going to be the showpiece of CMC, a bone to throw to the equal rights wolves breathing down their door. She should feel flattered. She was no beauty queen, but she held her own. At twenty-seven, she still doggedly held onto the freshness of her college days. Her auburn hair might show a hint of gray here and there, but she knew how to take care of nature’s little mistakes. If she didn’t, Hartess at the Golden Mirror did. She worked out sparingly, but her hectic schedule kept her fit enough so her frequent trips to the Krispy Kreme were instantly burned off. In a few years, she might have to worry about an unsightly bulge or forty. For now, she was relishing the perks of a youthful metabolism. She banked the car onto Elmhurst. The tires squealed in protest. At least the ones still firmly on the ground squealed, the other two just kind of twisted idly in the smoke from her exhaust. She didn’t care. If the portrait business wasn’t bad enough, they had to pick Michael Dumont to be the artist. Dumont was nothing more than a philandering
The Michelangelo Blues
6
weasel, who had wormed his way into more pants than was humanly possible, unless you were Gene Simmons or Wilt Chamberlain. Neither of which he was, as far as she was concerned. Michael Dumont had been two years ahead of her in school. Even back then, he’d thought he was God’s gift to women. The bad thing was everyone else thought so too. Back then, she had been known as Janis the mouse, so below his notice the whole thing had been laughable. Okay, she had the biggest crush on him back then. Why lie about it? Everyone did. She was not in an exclusive club. All the girls and a few boys she knew of had the hots for him. Who wouldn’t? He was a raven-haired Adonis. You name it and he was it. Not only was he All-State Quarterback of the football team, which ranks you right below the second coming if you’re from the South, but he was also the class valedictorian. After high school the whole town thought he would go to LSU, become a football superstar and marry Miss America. In true Michael Dumont fashion he threw everyone for a loop. He turned down LSU, which in this part of the country amounts to justifiable grounds for expulsion from the Sons of the Confederacy. Instead, he took a scholarship to a Paris art academy and broke his father’s blueblooded heart in the process. The elder Dumont had dreams of lifelong LSU season tickets. He got the season tickets, but he had never forgiven his son for turning down the college. Last Janis heard they still weren’t on good terms. The life of an artist did not sit well with Michael’s father. It was too sissified for his father’s manly tastes. Now, CMC was throwing her into the lion’s den. She might not have seen Dumont in ten years, but she remembered him well enough to know he was one leopard who was not about to change his spots. If the rumors were true, his spots were on everything on town with a dress. Thinking of the devil, she found herself pulling into his gravel driveway. She was really going to have to watch her rambling. She was so mad she couldn’t even remember driving the last five blocks. The house was quaint in the way all old southern homes were. It might not have been the oldest house in Bastille but it was close. The house wasn’t as big as some of the Antebellum style homes in town but it still had the period’s charm. Whitewashed to a brilliant shine, the house was nestled among the flowering magnolias that appeared to be as old as the house. A black Lexus sat parked in front of the grand home with a rusty Ford pickup parked around the side. The pickup was one of those old ones from the late seventies and sported a cover over the bed. It would have looked out of place, if this hadn’t been Bastille. The Dumonts might be loaded, but they seemingly adhered to the strict southern code of if you ain’t got a pick-up in the yard you don’t need the yard. It was silly, but true. She parked the car and ambled up to the front door. It was sitting slightly ajar. She poked her head in. The sound of a radio blaring out country music was coming from the back of the house. Janis would have yelled to see if anyone was home, but the old house made it seem like a violation. Instead, she just let herself in. Wallace said Dumont was expecting her after all. He was obviously at home. Why shouldn’t she just walk on in? It wasn’t like she was up too no good. If he hadn’t wanted her to come on inside, he should have locked the front door. Better yet, he should have been waiting on her. Whatever the case, she was ready to get this over with. Janis walked through the breezeway, which ran down the center of the house. She tried not to be nosy and look into the doors opening off it, but couldn’t help snooping. The rooms were surprisingly bare.
J. Morgan
7
From what she’d heard, Dumont had made a name for himself. With the money from his artwork and the trust fund he got when he turned twenty-one, she had expected the house to be full of all the useless junk rich people couldn’t seem to live without. Janis reached the source of the radio, a small room at the end of the hallway. This door, too, was cracked ajar. She pushed it open. The door opened onto a sunroom cluttered with easels and stacked canvases. A patchwork of paint-splattered drop cloths covered the ceramic-tiled floor. She couldn’t help but note the floor looked like it cost more than her house. In the center of the room stood Michael Dumont, looking every bit the Adonis she remembered. He was bare to the waist. Her breath caught at the view. After all these years, he still had the quarterback’s body. Muscles rippled in ways she had only dreamed about. Why couldn’t he have a pudgy stomach- something, anything to make him not so damn perfect? Just looking at him made her feel like she was in high school all over again. His long black hair was tied back with a torn strip of canvas, which only added to the avalanche of raw sex appeal he was throwing off. A thin line of sweat ran down her back, making her shiver. She was not entirely sure it was from the heat either, at least not from the heat of the day. His back was to her, so she felt she should do something to garner his attention. Janis fought to take her eyes from the impressive sight of his beautiful body. Finally, her brain won out and she rapped on the door, which was still held in place by her shaking hand. At the sound he raised his head, but made no move to turn around. When he spoke, it was not at all what she expects to hear. “Hey doll. You’re late. Just take your clothes off and throw them across the chair and come on over here.” The sound of his baritone voice nearly drove her to her knees. For one brief second she couldn’t decide what to do, get mad as hell, or do as he said.
The Michelangelo Blues
8
Chapter 2 Now, Janis was no prude, but she wasn’t about to flash her altogether at the town Lothario, either. It didn’t matter how good he looked. The question was did her body feel the same way? Because, from where she was standing, she didn’t think so. How else could you explain the night sweats she was having in the middle of the afternoon? Shaking her head, she tried to clear the image of his muscular bronze back and the exquisite firm butt that filled the seat of his faded jeans from her mind. No such luck. Men had baseball but what did women have to distract them from the opposite sex? Superior brain power, she decided. He was just a man. She had seen better before, just not this up close and personal. And, none of them had been Michael Dumont. “Look, baby. I ain’t got all day. Strip down so I can finish this up. My uncle’s got some uptight lawyer coming by, so we need to get this over with before she shows up.” Dumont let out a chuckle startling her. “Knowing Uncle Wally’s taste in women, she’s probably such a humdrum I’ll have to tape both eyes open just so I can paint her without nodding off.” Janis was not a woman prone to emotional displays. She had learned every situation had two possible outcomes. Either you could solve it through a diplomatic solution mutually benefiting both parties equally or you could get mad then get even. She always without an ounce of regret chose the last. It was better for the digestion. “I see, Mr. Dumont. Does Uncle Wally know how you feel about him, or do you reserve your opinions for the mindless bimbettes you can lure up here?” It wasn’t original, but she found most men couldn’t deal with originality. In the end she didn’t want to put a strain on their overburdened brains. It must be hard for them to cope with new ideas when their brains were crowded with the basic things, like breathing and the desire to breed and watch football, both of which most men were better at watching than doing. His head snapped around so fast she thought he might be possessed or doublejointed. The thought made her lips go dry. She would have licked them but he had turned his full attention to her. She wasn’t about to send him a message he might misconstrue as something more. Dry lips were not an open invitation to go to bed, despite what popular movies tried to tell you. “Miss Stockwell.” Dumont stammered. “At least you remembered the humdrum’s name. I should feel honored.” She was enjoying this a little too much, but the conceited bastard deserved it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He was trying to regain his composure and failing miserably. She loved every minute of it. “I quite understand. If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t be sorry.” Janis sniffed sharply and walked to the opposite side of the room. She idly flipped through a stack of canvases, while she let him stew. It was a classic courtroom ploy. Throw the witness off before you go in for the kill. “Now, dammit! I didn’t mean it like that.” He finally found the words to defend himself. His sudden outburst came too late for it to matter or help his case. Janis had him where she wanted him. From the corner of her eye, she watched him. He was shifting uneasily, waiting for her to answer him. Let him wait. The stack of paintings captured her eye. They were quite good. Better than she expected them to be, truthfully. From what she remembered of Dumont from high school,
J. Morgan
9
she half expected to see naked ladies on black velvet. Instead, his style was reminiscent of neoclassicism at its finest. The provocative backgrounds harkened back to Dadaism. Altogether, he had combined both styles perfectly. She was impressed, but was not about to let him know how good she thought they were. From the blank expression he was flashing, she figured she had let him suffer long enough. “We’ll call the matter closed. I would hate for Uncle Wally to think you were less than professional when it came to his humdrum lawyers.” She couldn’t help herself. One last dig was well worth the look on his face. He rubbed his head, obviously unsure who was getting the best end of the deal. Janis appreciated the look. It meant the first battle went to her. This might not be a war, but it was more entertaining than reality TV. “So, we’re good?” She couldn’t help but notice he was clearly at a loss for something more to say. “No but it’s a start.” She smiled and moved away from the canvases. “If you say so,” he said, still rubbing his head. “I do.” It was time to change the subject. She had a load of cases to go over and being here any longer than was necessary was not her idea of getting it done. “So, should we get started on the portrait?” “I’m not really ready to start painting today. I usually like to meet with the subject first, that way I can get an idea of how they want the portrait to be done.” Michael answered, feeling back in his element. “I want it to be as quick and painless as possible. Does that help?” Janis knew she was being a bitch, but this whole thing wasn’t really her idea in the first place. “No. I like to get to know the person I’m painting. Doing it with a clear picture of who the subject is allows the portrait to have some of the client’s personality wrapped up in it.” He idly plucked a brush from the container beside his easel and played with it. “Okay, you’ve had a chance to get to know me. Care to tell me what type of personality best describes me?” Janis almost broke a smile as she asked the question. She knew what was going through his mind, but wanted to see if he had the balls to say it. “I’d rather not say.” Ah ha. Coward, she thought. This time the smile broke the surface of her face. “Look, Mr. Dumont. My time is valuable. Can’t I just leave you a picture? You could work from a snapshot without bogging either of us down in time-consuming sittings.” Janis had finally thought of a loophole and wasn’t afraid to point it out. “I don’t work like that. I know a lot of artists do, but not me. Call me old school, but I think an artist should portray something more than a flat image.” Michael grimaced in disgust as if the very thought was distasteful to him. “If you’re after something along those lines, I’m sure a local photographer could pop you out something in under an hour, or I have a Polaroid in back I’ll be more than happy to lend you.” His passion surprised her. She’d half expected to find him to be a one-dimensional playboy. Instead, he threw her for a loop. A man who could talk with that much enthusiasm about art couldn’t be all bad. Could he? “Maybe, we got off on the wrong foot.” The words tasted like dust in her mouth, but he deserved a fair shake. “Maybe, we have. Let’s start again. Hello. I’m Michael Dumont.” He stuck his pain-smeared hand toward her. “Hello, Michael, I’m Janis Stockwell.” She took his hand giving him a smile.
The Michelangelo Blues
10
“Why does that name sound so familiar?” “Because Wallace told you I was coming.” Maybe, he wasn’t as smart as she thought. “No. Uncle Wally just gave me your last name. Janis Stockwell. Why does the name Janis Stockwell sound so familiar?” he asked. She was hoping to avoid this. She in no way imagined he might vaguely remember her. In fact, she had hoped he hadn’t. To be honest except for one class they had in common their past consisted of passing in the halls of Bastille High School. Well, he passed. She tended to drool and fall back into lockers. Her teenage years were so traumatic she hated to even be reminded they existed at all, least of all to be reminded by an object of her unrequited teenage desire. Well, no sense in putting it off. “We went to high school together.” “Now, I remember you. You were a couple of grades below me. They called you Janis the…“ He immediately shut his mouth, before the last of the name sprang from his mind to his mouth. “The word you’re looking for is ‘mouse’,” she finished for him. “I’m sorry. Dammit! This isn’t going well at all.” Michael moaned and plopped down on the stool sitting in front of the easel. “Don’t feel bad. It was a long time ago.” God, now she was feeling sorry for him. It was her name, not his, but something about the remorse in his voice made her feel bad for him. “Still, you should be remembered for something more than a stupid name from high school.” Again, his sincerity tore at her. He seemed actually to mean it. Could this be another surprise from the fount of Michael Dumont? Janis didn’t know how much more she could take. Luckily, the ringing of her cell phone saved her from saying something stupid like, I stole your gym shorts and kept them in my closet for three years. Not that she’d done it, of course. If she had, it would mean she was crazy, which she wasn’t. “Excuse me, but I should really take this,” Janis apologized, as she saw the number for the office flash across the miniature screen. Michael bobbed his head in acknowledgment. She nodded and moved back out into the hall. She waited until she was clear of the door before answering. “Janis, this is Wallace.” The phone chirped before she could speak. “Wallace, is it anything important?” It had to be, for him to call her cell. He hated the things and only called them as a last resort. The fact it was Wallace, himself, on the line and not Evelyn, his secretary, told Janis it had to be something akin to the end of the world for him to calling. “Kind of. How soon can you get back to the office?” Despite his attempt to sound casual, she heard a note of urgency in his voice. “Fifteen, twenty minutes. I’m at your nephew’s right now.” She peeked back into the room to see Michael had returned to his painting. “How is it going? Michael can be insufferable at times. I hope he isn’t giving you a hard time.” “More like the other way around.” She smirked and leaned her head in the room to watch Michael slather the canvas in paint. “Good for you. It’s high time the boy met his match.” Wallace’s laughter crackled over the phone. “So, do I need to come back now?” Janis asked.
J. Morgan
11
“If it isn’t too much of a bother, but there are certain matters I feel you need to be appraised of at the earliest possible moment.” The urgency became more pronounced. “Can’t you tell me over the phone? If it’s so important, surely I can hear it here, just as well as the office.” She absently slid her fingers up and down the door facing. The muscles rolling down Michael’s back, as he danced the brush across the canvas, made her forget momentarily what they were talking about. “I’d rather not,” he snapped, which shocked her. “Okay, give me a few minutes to wrap this up and I’ll be right there.” Something really was up Wallace’s butt. He never lost his cool and it sounded like he was close to blowing a gasket. “I expect to see you within the hour. Consider it an order.” He clicked off before she could say another word. It was just like him. He thought of her as the granddaughter he’d never had. The bad thing was he never stopped acting like it. If it wasn’t so endearing, she would hate him for it. Thankfully, she could now put off this portrait thing. All she had to do was tell Michael she was needed back at the office and she could get out of this house with a little pride left intact. “Mr. Dumont, I have to leave. I’m sorry to take off in the middle of such a delightful meeting but the office was on the phone. They need me back, as soon as possible,” she explained hastily, as she reentered the room. “No problem. I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.” His lopsided smile was enough to make her forget her own embarrassment at his hands. She had to get a hold of herself before she completely lost it. This wasn’t high school. She was a grown woman and above the perils of teenage hormones. It took more than a sexy back and a roguish smile to make her go all googly-eyed. At least Janis hoped so. “All forgotten, but I really must go.” Janis looked at her watch, knowing Wallace already had her on his personal timer back at the office. “Let me show you out.” He rose from the chair. Janis couldn’t help but notice the way the afternoon sun glistened on his bare shoulders, as he walked toward her. The sight brought back all those feelings she’d tried to blame on teenage hormones. “There’s no need. I think I can remember the way. Besides, it looks like you have a lot of work left to do.” She smiled, tilting her head toward the easel. “If you’re sure?” Michael asked sheepishly, unsure whether to take her words at face value. “I am.” She could tell from his expression he would be glad when she was gone, and truthfully, so would be she. She turned on her heel before he could voice another objection. Janis didn’t even look back. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look at him one last time, she just knew better. The last thing she wanted to see was Michael Dumont standing there looking like, a Calvin Klein model leaning against the doorway. Some things were best left to the imagination.
The Michelangelo Blues
12
Chapter 3 Michael waited in the doorway until he saw her car pull out the driveway. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was doing it. Sure, he had made a total ass out of himself, but he couldn’t see it as a reason to be staring after a woman, who obviously didn’t like him. Maybe that was why he was doing it. Women were always throwing themselves at him. He found it refreshing to find one who wasn’t all over him like a cheap hooker. Some people might find it strange, but they didn’t know him. All his life, women had been after him for one reason or another. It didn’t mean he was a saint by any stretch of the imagination. Over the years he had taken the opportunities given to him. Not often, but enough he seldom lacked for an empty bed when he felt the need for a woman. In his youth he had been less discriminatory. His first foray had been with his mother’s best friend. She still passed him on the street and gave him a lecherous wink. He counted her as the one mistake he never repeated. He wished he could say the same about other women, who had danced into his life. All the false attention had left him more than a little jaded when it came to the opposite sex. Because of his checkered past, he never looked for love. Why should he look when it wasn’t there? If he wasn’t his father’s son or if he didn’t have a handsome face, would women still treat him like they did? Hell no! He knew it. The women knew it. So, he never trusted anyone further than his bed. He guarded his heart closely. Once or twice he almost let his guard down, but never enough to let himself fall into that particular trap. Years of second-hand experience had taught him to be wary of the marriage and commitment pitfall. When he thought back on his life growing up, he shuddered. Hell, his own mother had run off with a man half her age. His father had topped her by doing the same thing with a girl younger than his own son. Michael knew for a fact love had nothing to do with either arrangement, unless you counted love of a pretty face in the equation. Both relationships had ended messily. Michael wasn’t about to subject himself to any brand of living hell involving marriage or any of its related synonyms. Not if he could help it. Experience was the best weapon in such cases. Better to take what he wanted and remain secure in the knowledge life was better left uncomplicated by love and its trappings. So, why was he standing here watching a woman like some hound dog? Because, Janis ‘the mouse’ Stockwell had treated him like crap? No, it had to be more than that. Perhaps, it was kinship. If he had been treated like a god in high school, she had been treated like the direct opposite. The experience had caused them both to be outcasts. True, she might not have seen it that way, but it didn’t make it any less the truth. He could never be what everyone thought he should be. He had made a good go at it. In the end he just walked away to everyone’s amazement, his most of all. To this day he was seen as the Big Jake’s oddball son. He was still treated exactly the same as before, but he could see the look in everyone’s eyes, the quiet disdain he knew lurked beneath the surface of their stares. There goes Michael. Man, what he could have been, if he hadn’t had thrown it all away. He could have been a football hero. Well, for the record he didn’t want to be a hero, anybody’s hero. That was his father’s dream, not his. If they all wanted to think he was a failure, let them.
J. Morgan
13
Janis Stockwell on the other hand was a different story. Strangely, he saw himself caring what she thought. He didn’t see it so much as a romantic interest. Something about her made him want to know more. After his foot-in-mouth disease today, he sincerely doubted she could possibly feel the same way. Still, he didn’t want her to think he was a total ass. Thanks to Uncle Wallace, he was stuck with her for the time being. For Wallace to call him up out of the blue to do this portrait was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to pass up for more than one reason. Michael had been living off his trust fund for the past ten years, while trying to make a go at being an artist. The trust fund was rapidly drying up. He had a few thousand left and it wouldn’t last long. He liked to eat. Ramen noodles and mayo sandwiches only went so far. So far, his art career had been a total bust with nothing more than a few commissions had come few and far between to help pad his bank account. An upcoming show in Shreveport might change his financial security, but it was months away. He needed something to tide him over, now. His part-time job as a deputy sheriff was barely bringing in enough money to cover his monthly bills. If this portrait fell through, the part time would have to go to full time, which would put finishing his paintings for the show in jeopardy. He could always crawl back to his father and ask for a handout. No, that was one avenue he wasn’t about to walk down. Big Jake had made it clear when Michael said no to LSU the gravy train was over, which was fine with him. All of his father’s money had never bought the old man happiness. Why would it help him? No, his father was the last of the last resorts. So, unless he wanted to bust drunk drivers for the rest of his life, he had better make sure Ms. Stockwell didn’t take anything his bumble-brained mouth said to heart. How to get past her icy exterior was what had him stumped. She was immune to his charm. Today was ample proof of how far his boyish good looks would get him. He could think of only way of breaking down the brick wall of Janis Stockwell’s resolve. He was going to have to be himself, a task much harder than it sounded. Michael knew he had a reputation. You didn’t live in a small town and not know you had a reputation. The question was how do you convince someone the reputation meant nothing? Janis was a lawyer. She could see through any feeble lie he came up with. The bad part of the situation was she also knew him. Never a good spot to find yourself in. You didn’t know whether to smash your head on the rock or the hard place. Whatever he tried would be met by suspicion. Great, the one time he actually needed a woman to see the real him, and she was already prejudiced by the truth, which directly contradicted the truth he wanted her to see. He’d come up with something. After all, she was a woman. He would appeal to her softer side. If he could find one under the repressed lawyer front she had perfected, he certainly was going to try. ***** “Janis, I want you to consider yourself a marked woman.” Wallace sat behind his massive hand-tooled oak desk. Both hands were folded in front of him and he was giving her the stern elder statesman look. Janis couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Wallace, you can’t be serious. The case was more than five years ago. Bettis can’t still be carrying a grudge after all this time.”
The Michelangelo Blues
14
She knew before she said the words what Wallace’s reaction was going to be. “You put the man in jail. Of course he’s going to carry a grudge. Men like Bettis don’t forget slights.” Wallace rose to his feet, tipping the desk in his agitation. “So, what do you want me to do, hide in my office?” She answered snidely, instantly regretting it. “No, I want you take this seriously. Take some precautions. Maybe, get out of town for a while. Let the Bob see just what the man’s intentions are.” Wallace was in full grandpa mode. She loved him for it, but hadn’t needed a grandpa in some time and wasn’t about to start now. “He just got out of jail. I doubt the first thing he’s going to do is hunt me up.” Janis tried to calm his nerves more for her benefit than his. Wallace could be a pit bull, when it came to his lawyers. “John Bettis said in open court the day he got out, he was coming for you. I know for a fact you’ve received threats from him while he’s been inside. Don’t try to deny it. My contacts have told me you’ve filed reports no less than six reports in the last two years alone with the sheriff’s office.” Maybe, Wallace was right. John Bettis had been a born bastard. Her second year in the DA’s office she’d been assigned his case. It seemed simple enough. A domestic dispute had put the man’s wife in the hospital with multiple broken bones and head trauma. The police picked him up at Cat Daddy’s, the local drinking hole, with his wife’s blood still on his hands. Open and shut case, right? Wrong. The wife refused to testify. The DA wanted to drop it. Without the wife’s testimony it was going to be hard to get a conviction. Bettis had been involved in enough shady dealings sooner or later they’d have something on him they could make stick. Well, shit on that! The animal had beaten his wife so badly she had to go through physical therapy just so she could learn to walk again. Janis hadn’t been about to let him get a chance to do it again. She finally convinced the DA there was enough physical evidence to make the conviction hold. Between the police reports and the blood found on his hands and clothes, which could be traced back to his wife they had a solid case. It didn’t hurt that the man had been bragging about it to his friends at the bar, where he was overheard by everyone in the place. In the end it took two days for the jury to come back with a guilty verdict. Apparently, he must have been a model prisoner, because he still had five more years on his ten-year sentence. Some bastards get all the luck. Wallace might have a point, but she wasn’t going to live her life worrying about maybes. If he wanted to worry, let him. She had a gun. Let the son of a bitch get past a 9mm. “Are you even listening to me?” Wallace demanded, his face turning red. “I’m listening, Wallace. I am not going to run away. I won’t let him scare me.” “Well, he scares me.” Wallace grunted. “I know, and I love you for it.” She reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Janis, be reasonable. Let me get one of our private investigators to watch over you until we know for sure what he’s going to do.” Wallace was all but begging, which was saying something. It was a good idea, she had to admit. She didn’t think Bettis would try anything, but it never hurt to err on the side of caution. In addition, it would get Wallace off her back. “Okay, you can get one of your watchdogs on the case, but I better not see them.” “I’ll get Garvin. He knows how to be discreet.” Wallace reached for his Rolodex to find the number. “If you’re through playing Grandpa Wallace, can I go? I do have some casework to
J. Morgan
15
look over before court tomorrow.” Janis tried not to sound snippy, but between the fiasco with Michael and this meeting, she was behind in her work. She was going to have to take the files home with her just to catch up. Thank God, she didn’t have a life or this would put a serious crimp in it. “One more thing.” He held his finger up for her to wait, while he pulled Garvin’s card out of the Rolodex. “How did it go with Michael?” “Fine.” She lied, but really didn’t want to go into it with Uncle Wally. Maybe, he would just let it go without her having to elaborate or fabricate a patchwork of lies. “Good. His father would have a cow if he found out I was sending business Michael’s way, but the boy needs the work. He’s quite good. If only Big Jake would see what past his stubborn pride.” Wallace shook his head. She had heard there was bad blood between the two Dumonts but never questioned it. Hearing the facts from a reliable source made her curious. “Why what’s the big deal?” She asked before she could stop herself. “Big Jake never forgave Michael for refusing to attend LSU. Load of horseshit if you ask me. Michael had to live his own life, not his father’s. Jake was too damn pigheaded to see past his own nose when it came to that boy. But, enough family drama for one day. Get out of here. You don’t want to hear all the dirty laundry aired out.” He waved her toward the door, and she knew the conversation was over. Janis looked back to see him already dialing the phone. His parting statement had given her a lot to think about. There was more to Michael Dumont than she had first thought. She might have been too hard on him this afternoon. High School was a long time ago. Maybe judging him based on things that happened ten years ago was wrong. She’d make it up to him. The next time she saw him, she would make an effort to be nicer to him. Hopefully, by the time this mess with Bettis got cleared up, he might have forgotten all about it.
The Michelangelo Blues
16
Chapter 4 Janis shifted the bulky stack of files off her lap. The thick cardboard folders had left angry red lines in the meat of her thighs. She frowned at the sight. She had bigger worries than paper cut tattoos, like the fact her legs were in serious danger of falling off from sitting for too long in the same position. Just moving them sent pinpricks of agony flowing through her blood starved calves and feet. This was ridiculous. She should be watching TV, vegetating like a normal person, instead of going over these files. It was a waste of time and she knew it. The cases were clear cut. She knew them backwards and forward. Janis knew exactly what she was trying to do. She was avoiding thinking about what was really on her mind, Michael Dumont and his bronze god body, which had burned itself into her brain this afternoon. He was just a man, nothing special. If that was true, why was he the only thing she could think about? Because, he was the first man she’d met in the past five years she hadn’t sent to jail or had as a client. Yeah, believe that! She was thinking about him because he was a man and she was a woman. She might have tried to deny the fact she was indeed a woman for longer than she cared to remember, but seeing Michael again had painfully reminded her of the fact. You couldn’t be a hard-nosed lawyer and a weepy-eyed woman. The two didn’t mix. At least she had convinced herself they were incompatible. Now she wasn’t so sure. She had brooded long enough. Staring at blurry reports all evening had made her hungry. She cursed as she uncrossed her legs, igniting another burst of pain. When the pain subsided to a dull ache, she rose from the couch. Her floppy rabbit slippers swished across the carpet. The slippers might not invoke the hard-nosed image she strove for, but her feet were warm and toasty. They even matched the old pink and white jersey she wore as a nightgown. She couldn’t remember who had given it to her. It had been a gag gift at one of Gwen’s world-infamous slumber parties. She tried not to think how strange it sounded to be twenty-seven and still be attending slumber parties. Gwen’s husband worked offshore and they tended to get together at least once a month to take her mind off being alone. The trip down memory lane was nice, but what she needed now was food and lots of it. She knew the pantry was just hitting the middle-of-the-week-empty stage, but there had to be something roaming around in there that passed for chocolate. Three minutes of frantic searching had produced nothing more than a stale pack of peanut butter crackers and a piece of Dove chocolate with half the foil peeled back. Except for a piece of fuzz, the chocolate looked salvageable. Surely, if she washed it, it would be all right. Come on, it wasn’t like anybody was here to call her a narsty bitch, she decided, as she walked over to the sink. She nearly made it there. A foot from the sink, she heard the door bell chime. She had been caught by the chocolate police for defamation of the foil wrapper. Oh, the shame. Maybe, she should eat the evidence before they come bursting in. Janis looked at the piece of candy and then to the door. The bit of fluff had walked off the candy and onto her hand. She shook her hand, tossing the candy into the corner, where it would probably stay until it either dissolved into mush or walked off. Whatever the case, she had finally sunk below her lowest low.
J. Morgan
17
The doorbell sounded off again. This time Janis swore it was laughing at her. It served her right for not throwing on clothes and going the block and a half to the Quicky Stop. They had Ben and Jerry’s. She walked to the door, more than ready to take her frustration out on whoever stood on the other side. Throwing the door open, the last person she expected to see was Michael Dumont, yet there he was. And, here she was, dressed like something the cat dragged in and left for dead before using it as a litter box. This night couldn’t get any worse. “Dumont.” Janis did her best to hide behind the door, but it was too late. Her shame complete, she gave up any hope of coming out of this with her self-respect intact. Somehow or another, her rabbit slipper had come off and was wedged in the crack of the door. Its glued-on eyes mocked her from the floor. “Stockwell.” He grinned, sheepishly. “This is a surprise. Did you lose a bet? No, let me guess. You come here on a factfinding mission to see how humdrums live in their natural habitat.” She hoped he didn’t notice she was trying to grab her slipper with her big toe. If he did, it would kill the whole dignified rage attitude she was going for. “We didn’t get off on the right foot this afternoon. I came by with a peace offering and hoped maybe we could start over.” He produced a delicious smelling flat box from behind his back and a bottle of wine. From the looks of the wine it was the good stuff. Janis was impressed. “So, your idea of a peace offering is a pizza and a bottle of wine?” She tried to look indignant, but the smell of the pizza was getting the better of her. She fully expected drool at any moment. “Not just any pizza, mind you, but a Bayou Bonanza.” His full-on grin finally broke her down. She always was a sucker for dimples on a man. Okay, for those of you not used to southern pizza. Here’s the deal. Only in Louisiana can a pizza transcend the normal fair to become a work of art. This is the Bayou Bonanza. It is your regular pizza but topped with the greatness of Louisiana cuisine, crawfish, Andouille sausage, crab, not one but three types of hot peppers. If all those goodies weren’t enough to set your mouth to watering, there were several other things on the pizza, which tasted fabulous but had always been too afraid to ask what they were. When it came to the Bayou Bonanza, it was definitely better to eat it than to delve too deeply into its origins. “Come on in.” She relented, opening the door. She hastily kicked the lost slipper back toward the couch and let him in. To hell with pride, he had food. “You can put the pizza down on the table. I’ll go get us a couple of glasses. I might even have some that don’t have cartoon characters on them.” She doubted it, but there was always hope somehow, grown-up glasses would magically appear in her kitchen cabinet. “Nice place, you have here,” he called out. “Lie to somebody who doesn’t live here.” Janis called back from the kitchen, hearing the telltale sounds of him moving the stack of files off the couch. She found two glasses and grabbed two plates, trying not to imagine what he’d find there. The plates were an afterthought. Normally pizza went from the box to her hand, then straight to her mouth. She saw no reason for him to see her for the total barbarian she truly was. “I don’t know. At least there’s not food lying on the floor and dirty dishes stacked everywhere.” Michael laughed. Janis looked back to the chocolate lying on the floor and pulled the kitchen door closed with her foot, as she entered the living room.
The Michelangelo Blues
18
“What kind of slob do you take me for?” She grinned, setting the plates and glasses down in front of him on the coffee table. “I plead the fifth.” Michael raised his hands and laughed. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.” “After this afternoon I’ll take that as a compliment.” He poured them each a glass of wine, while she sat beside him. “You should. Mind passing me a slice?” If she didn’t get something in her soon, this wine was going to go straight to her head. Michael slid a thick wedge to her. Abandoning any resemblance of ladylike, Janis dug into it with gusto. From the first bite, it was delicious. It was heaven in a doughy nutshell. By the time the last morsel passed her lips Janis was sure there was a God and he must be an Italian by way of Creole seasoning. “So, tell me something,” Janis said, through the last mouthful. She reached for another slice, waiting for him to answer. “Okay, if you promise not to take a bite out of me, when I reach for a piece.” Michael laughed. He couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked expression on her face. “No promises. Better grab quick. I’m hell on lingering fingers.” Janis took a mock bite toward his reaching hand. “Somehow, I think you’re serious.” He jerked his hand back from the pizza box. It was corny, but she couldn’t stop from giggling. “Since I’ve broken your icy exterior, I should leave. I don’t want to jinx a perfect evening.” He made a move to rise, but she slapped him back down. “You aren’t getting away so easily. You owe me an answer to my question.” “My dear lawyer, you never asked a question,” he countered. “Maybe I didn’t, but it doesn’t mean you can leave before I ask it.” The logic was flawed, but being with him made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl again. “Then, ask away. I would hate to leave your enquiring mind unenlightened.” He settled back into the couch, like he had no intention of going anywhere. She didn’t know how she felt about him making himself at home. “Why did you do it?” Janis leaned forward and looked him in the eye. “I take it you mean the whole LSU thing?” Michael shifted uneasily clearly uncomfortable with having to rehash old memories. To his credit he didn’t jump up and run out the door. “Don’t answer. I can see it in your face.” “So, why did you do it?” Hey, you never found anything out, if you didn’t ask. “Do you know what it’s like to hide who you truly are? Well, that was the way I felt for fifteen years. Hiding out is the only way to describe how I felt. Except for Aunt Millie and Uncle Wallace, I didn’t tell anyone I even knew how to draw. It was all Aunt Millie’s fault, anyway. She took me to museums and stuff, when I was a kid. One time she took me to New Orleans, when they had this traveling Monet show. It floored me. I think that was the day I knew I wanted to be an artist.” He paused before beginning again. “Anyway, when I went to Paris, my dad all but disowned me, still has for all I know. We haven’t spoken in years. My last year in the Academy I got two paintings accepted at the Salon. A big deal, let me tell you. I called and told him, thinking it might make a difference, if he knew I was successful. He hung up on me.” He stopped and looked blankly at the floor. Janis nearly reached out to touch his hand, but didn’t. Something told her this was an old pain and nothing she did would make it any better. Still, she couldn’t help wanting to do something for him.
J. Morgan
19
“What about your mother? Didn’t you try and get her to come?” Janis knew it was a sore subject, as soon as the question left her mouth. “She was on yet another honeymoon. I didn’t even try. Aunt Millie came. I don’t know if Uncle Wally knew that she came or not. She was so proud of me that the fact neither of my parents seemed to care didn’t seem to matter.” Michael looked up and gave her a weak smile, as if to say he was all right with the way his parents had treated him. Score one for Aunt Millie, Janis decided. Come Christmas she was in for something better than a fruit cake in her stocking. “Don’t look, so sad. I knew when I went to Paris what I was getting myself into. It’s all worked out for the best. I even have a show coming up in April.” He gave her a million-dollar grin, as if to let her know he was truly all right with the way things had turned out. “So, am I invited?” she teased. “If you’re free, I would be honored to have you come.” “Then, consider yourself honored,” She said only to be drowned out by the ringing of the phone. She gave Michael a knowing sigh and picked up the phone. Following normal operating procedure, she checked the caller I.D. Blocked call, it was probably Wallace checking up on her again. He was getting sneaky. “Look, Wallace. Blocking the call isn’t helping. I know it’s you,” she said, as she answered the phone. “Wrong guy, lawyer-girl. Wanna try, again?” A harsh voice grunted into the phone. “Bettis?” Janis looked over to Michael. Her face went slack, as fear played its song up her spine. “Got in two. I thought you might have forgotten about me, but I didn’t forget about you. I had five long years to think about you.” Bettis snarled. “You’re going back to jail, Bettis. This violates your parole. Just end it now and I’ll forget this phone call ever happened.” Her nervousness showed in her voice. She didn’t care. He was just trying to freak her out. There was no way this animal was going to risk going back to jail to get back at her. “You’d like to see me shaking my boots, but jail don’t scare me. I’ve got to go, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be seeing you around.” “Like hell you will!” she said loud enough to make Michael jump from the couch. “Don’t bet against it, sweet cheeks. By the way I left you a little something on the doorstep. Why don’t you let your boyfriend go pick it up for you?” Bettis clicked the phone off and Janis was left with cold chills spreading through her body. He had been here. He had been here while she and Michael were talking. Bettis had been listening to them, probably right outside the door the whole time. He could have killed them both with a single gunshot and they wouldn’t have even known he had been there. “Janis, are you alright?” Michael leaned over her shaking body. His lean arms caught her, as she tried to stand and fell back to the couch. “Michael, could you call the sheriff? I think I might be in trouble.”
The Michelangelo Blues
20
Chapter 5 Janis was still shaking, when the police arrived twenty minutes later. As crazy as it sounded, she hadn’t allowed Michael to set even one foot outside the door until she heard the sirens coming down the street. Bettis could have been playing with her to get Michael outside. This thing with Bettis was her trouble, not his. She wasn’t about to put Michael at risk with that crazy bastard running around loose. Janis counted herself lucky Michael had been here with her. She may be cool and calm in the courtroom, but this was a totally different story. Clients didn’t try to kill you in front of a judge and jury. Michael had stepped up and had taken care of everything from the start. He had given the dispatcher all the details over the phone, met the police, when they pulled up, and even had found the time to calm her down in the middle of all the chaos going on around them. She didn’t even want to think how much of a wreck she must look sitting there with her one bunny slipper. More importantly, he stayed with her, when any other man would have been outside in the thick of things, being macho. They had sat calmly in the living room, while the police searched the yard and street for the better part of an hour looking for any clue of Bettis’s whereabouts. She almost convinced herself it was all a dream, when to her dismay one of the officers entered with a pink gift box covered in an evidence bag. Even through the thick plastic of the bag, she couldn’t help but notice the bloody hand prints covering it. The sight drew the breath from her. Michael gave her hand a quick squeeze and walked over to the officers. Janis hated for him to leave, but didn’t want to look like a total hysterical ninny, either. She chucked her fear. After all, it wasn’t like Bettis was going to come busting in here with all these police officers standing around, making her living room look like a cop show. Janis strained her ears, but couldn’t hear anything. From the looks on their faces she could tell they hadn’t found a trace of Bettis. A couple of minutes later Michael shook hands with the lead detective and walked over to her. He sat down beside her and went back to holding her hand. “It’s going to be all right, Janis. They have the whole street cordoned off. Bettis couldn’t get within a mile of here, even if he wanted to.” Michael assured her. “They couldn’t find him, could they?” She tried to sound brave, but knew she was failing miserably. “No. He was probably long gone by the time he called you.” Michael cut his eyes away from her. “He knew you were here in the house. The only way he could know that was if he was out there. How long had he been sitting out there in the dark watching me, watching us? Michael, he could have killed us.” This time she did lose it. “Yeah, but he didn’t. He just wanted to scare you.” Michael rubbed her hand between his, trying to calm her down. “Well, he did a damn good job, cause I’m scared shitless.” Janis saw the officers were pointing to the box and talking excitedly. “Michael, did they tell you what was in the box?” “A billfold. It belongs to someone named Fred Garvin. Do you know him?” She could tell by the tone of his voice he knew that she did. “He’s the private detective Wallace hired to watch over me. Is he all right?” This
J. Morgan
21
time there was no hiding the concern in her voice. Garvin was just doing his job. He shouldn’t have even been seen, let alone. She let the rest of the thought fade from her brain. Janis didn’t even want to think about what could have happened to the man. “He’s okay. Two patrolmen found him in the bushes with a bad knock to the back of his head. It bled some, which is where the blood on the box came from, but otherwise, he’s fine. They’re taking him to the Bastille General to make sure, just in case.” Michael explained. He then shot a worried look over to the officers, who had begun to take the box out of the evidence bag. “Michael, is there something you’re not telling me?” Janis asked, as she caught his furtive look. “Dammit, you’re going to find out soon enough. The billfold wasn’t the only thing they found in the box. They found one of your monogrammed hand towels wrapped around it.” Michael paused, already knowing what her reaction was going to be. “That animal was in my house!” Her eyes went wide, as the realization hit home. “Janis, calm down.” “Like hell I will! He was in my house.” Janis knew she was losing it, but couldn’t help herself. “How do you calm down when someone has broken into your house and you were too stupid to even notice?” Michael was saved from answering her question by Wallace’s sudden appearance through Janis’s front door. Two officers moved to bar him from entering. Michael patted Janis on the hand and walked over to work things out. Janis was stunned. Bettis had been here. He had walked around in her house, rifled through her things, and God knows what else. The worst part was she hadn’t noticed a thing. She’d spent the whole night sitting in her living room and never realized anything was out of place. How could she be so oblivious to her very own surroundings? Be violated and not know it? “Janis, Michael just filled me in.” Wallace sat down beside her. For once his fatherly voice wasn’t grating on her nerves. “Yeah, me too,” Janis grumbled. “I told you this was going to happen.” It was the last thing she wanted to hear, but knew it was coming. “Now, we need to decide on how we’re going to deal with it.” Good question. She wished she had an answer. Running like hell, sprang to mind. She wouldn’t do it, but damn, it sounded like a good idea. “I think you need to go into protective custody until we can find Bettis and get him off the streets.” Wallace came up with the typical Wallace answer, hide until the crap stopped flying. “I won’t let this or him stop me from living my life. Come up with something else,” she told him flat out. “You’re acting crazy and you damn well know it. This man wants to kill you and if you think I’m going to let you walk around and let him do it...” The vein on Wallace’s forehead nearly jumped out and slapped her, he was so angry. “You are not going to do anything. This is about me. I will not let Bettis determine how I live my life.” Her decision was final and he had better see it. “Your mind is made up?” Wallace cocked his eyebrow, clearly knowing he was beat. “Yep.” “Then, you’ll be doing it on my terms. Don’t give me your lip.” He held his finger up before she could respond. “This house is off-limits, as of now. I’ll set you up
The Michelangelo Blues
22
somewhere safe with round-the-clock protection.” “Like Garvin?” It was a cheap shot, but the truth, as she saw it. “Janis, don’t push it. Garvin knew his chances, and clearly wasn’t the man for the job.” “I don’t want a stranger running around in my life, especially now.” “What about Michael?” Wallace whispered so Michael wouldn’t overhear, as his nephew talked to the detectives. “You want that cut-rate Michelangelo to baby-sit me?” Janis had never heard anything so ridiculous in her whole life. What did an artist know about being a bodyguard? What was he going to do, paint Bettis into a corner? “No. Well, yes. Michael is a deputy sheriff and he’s someone you know. I am not willing to leave you on your own to deal with this mess. If you won’t accept anything else from me, accept this. This is your life we’re talking about.” The plaintive plea in his voice broke through to her. It made sense. She did know Michael. Tonight was ample proof she could depend on him, but trusting him was a totally different matter. Despite this evening, she still wasn’t sure if he was the man to watch over her. More to the point, she wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to be alone around him. Being with him had been great, more than great. It had been the first time in a long time she talked with someone who seemed to understand her. In spite of all her doubts, Michael did not appear to be the Lothario she had thought him to be. Up until Bettis’s call she had actually begun to feel like she was making some sort of connection with him. She didn’t know if it was the old crush coming back or the way he bared himself to her. Her old prejudices were hard to overcome. She looked over to say as much to Wallace to find him gone. Janis didn’t have to look up to know where he went. Sure enough, he had pulled Michael over to the side. They were in a hushed conversation. No question what they were talking about. Wallace was a bulldog when he got his mind wrapped around something. Right now, his mind was wrapped up with her and Michael. Whether she wanted to or not, it looked like she was about to be stuck with Mr. Michael Dumont for the duration. As long as she kept things in perspective, she should be safe enough. Michael was just a man after all. She might not have a lot of experience, when it came to men like Michael, but she knew how to deal with men. If she told herself that long enough, she might actually believe it.
23
J. Morgan
Chapter 6 The ride home could not have been more strained. Michael tried his best to ignore the dirty looks Janis kept shooting at him. It wasn’t his fault she was here, nor was it by his choice. Wallace had shoved both of them into this situation, not that he was complaining. Tonight had been a revelation to him. Michael had never connected with a woman before like he had with Janis. In his heart he didn’t want the night to end. But, considering at the mood she was in, he wasn’t all too sure if being alone with her was a good idea. Still, he had to admit even mad, she looked good. What was he thinking? She was in danger. You didn’t go around thinking about putting the moves on a woman, who was in the middle of a life threatening situation. Sure, he was attracted to her, but even he had to admit there weren’t many women he wasn’t attracted to. Something nagged at his mind, telling him she was different. This wasn’t the base physical attraction he was used to dealing with. He had enough sense to keep the opinion to himself for the time being. Pulling into his driveway he tried to ignore the brooding silence filling the car. Janis’s earlier emotional outburst had played itself out. Sometime after Wallace had arrived she had sunk into herself. After several attempts to draw her out he gave up trying to get through to her. He knew from his experience in dealing with trauma victims, when her anger ran its course she’d be ready to talk. Michael just hoped in the mood Janis was in, she’d let him live that long. After letting them in, Michael ducked out of the line of fire with Janis’s luggage to the spare bedroom. He tried not to look up, when he heard her storming through the rest of the house. He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know she wasn’t taking this whole situation at all well. Michael thanked his lucky stars at least she wasn’t throwing things. He might not have much in the way of valuables, but what he did have he would like to keep in one piece. He understood how she felt. Uncle Wally had a way of taking control of a situation and leaving you with no option but to go along. Michael hated to admit it, but in this case his uncle was right. Michael had a few run-ins with Bettis before he had gone to prison. The man was a stone-cold killer. Bettis might not have been convicted of murder, but everyone on the force knew the man was responsible for at least two they knew about. No matter how hard they tried to build a case lack of evidence had kept the man on the streets. Janis had the guts to put the man away. Michael admired her for not backing down and getting the job done. He knew a lot of men who would have let Bettis walk. The fact she didn’t, spoke volumes. Now, Bettis was gunning for her because of her courageous decision. He would kill her if he got the chance. Michael wasn’t about to let it happen. This time the son of a bitch had gone too far. The incident at Janis’s place was proof of that. The threats were bad enough. The attack on Garvin had been a message, pure and simple. He had seen it before. This guy wanted Janis to know he was not going to stop until he got to her. The only thing working in their favor was Bettis’s stupidity. Michael was sure the pink box would turn up usable prints, which could easily be traced back to Bettis. Garvin couldn’t say, who had hit him, but it was a good bet the prints from the detective’s car would turn out to belong to Bettis, as well. It was just a matter of time before Bettis slipped up. Until then the safest thing he could do was keep in mind the man was capable of anything.
The Michelangelo Blues
24
Janis needed to realize this wasn’t a game. The woman had enough sense to know she was in danger. He had to give her that much credit. The amount of danger she was in was the one thing she hadn’t come to realize yet. She was too damn pig-headed to admit Bettis was a genuine threat and all her denial wasn’t going to make him go away. He doubted she would see it, unless it was staring her right in the face. Michael was going to do his level best to stop Bettis from getting to Janis in spite of her bull-headedness. He was going to do it for more than just because Wallace had hired him to do it. For all her bluster, something about the woman made him want to protect her. In spite of her gruff exterior he couldn’t help but like her. She wasn’t buying into his macho bravado, like all the other women who fell for it like a ton of bricks. He begrudgingly respected her for noticing a bullshit artist when she saw one. The woman had spunk. Michael couldn’t think of one woman he knew, who could have gone through what she had tonight and not ended up in a quivering lump on the floor. Sure, she lost it back at her house, but she didn’t back down. If it hadn’t been for Uncle Wally, she would still be there. Michael didn’t doubt for one minute she’d be sitting in her living room, if they hadn’t dragged her out to the car. After the fit she threw when Wallace announced her house off limits until the police apprehended Bettis, he still found it hard to believe she was actually letting him take her back to his house. This afternoon had left him with the distinct impression she wanted to have nothing to do with him. The trip to her house had been a knee-jerk attempt to change her mind, so he wouldn’t lose his chance to go ahead and paint the portrait. The painting was a moot point now. Uncle Wally was paying him well to safeguard her life. In fact the sum Wallace quoted as payment was more than enough to see him through until his showing in the spring without even worrying about finishing the portrait. In retrospect, he would have done it for free. Janis Stockwell was an enigma he couldn’t wait to unravel. Tonight at her place, she had been a totally different person from the one he met this afternoon, almost like-able. She had been non-combatant. That was for damn sure. Michael couldn’t help but wonder how many layers he was going to have to peel back before he got to meet the real Janis Stockwell. He looked up, as he heard her stomp into the room. “Are you aware you are out of toilet paper?” It wasn’t exactly what he had expected her to say, but she hadn’t bitten his head off. Maybe she had chewed on it a little, but she had definitely not bitten it off. “There’s some in the closet beside the bathroom door. You’ll find towels in there, too. If you need anything else, let me know and I’ll find it for you.” He walked toward her. “A good host would have pointed out earlier where all the essentials are to be found and not made me come hunting for them.” So, he was back with daytime Janis. “I should have. I’m sorry. It’s just I’m not used to having company.” “For some reason I find it hard to believe you’ve never lacked for company especially the female kind.” Janis snorted. “I thought we were past this. Janis, I know this isn’t your idea of a fun time, but it’s for your own good. You’re smart. I shouldn’t have to explain the severity of the situation to you.” Michael was not above being a bastard, if it got his point across. He just hoped it wasn’t going to blow up in his face. He saw the defiance swim into her eyes. Then, it was gone. “Michael, I know you’re right, but this is not how I should have to live my life. I swore I wouldn’t hide, if something like this happened. Where am I? Hiding out.” She moaned and plopped down on the bed.
J. Morgan
25
Michael paused unsure of what to do. Finally, he walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. “Don’t think of it as hiding. Think of it as taking a vacation where nobody can find you.” He offered with a devilish grin. She laughed. “Michael Dumont, you are so full of shit your eyes should be brown.” “You mean they’re not!” he exclaimed in mock surprise. “They’re blue, as you very well know.” She continued to giggle. Something in her laughter broke something in him. Before he knew what he was doing Michael leaned in and kissed her. Her lips were stiff and unresponsive. He nearly broke off, thinking he had gone too far, way too soon. Then, he felt them yield to his intrusion. They became soft, greeting his kiss with the willingness for the embrace he himself felt. His hand stroked the tender white flesh of her cheek and swept his fingers down to the gentle curve of her long neck. They caressed the taut muscles of her shoulders. He felt her flinch. Her lips told him to ignore it, so he did. He flicked the strands of auburn hair from her neck. How he wanted nothing more than to drop his mouth to her tender flesh, letting it venture further down. It would be too much to ask for. Janis might allow a kiss, but what else he had in mind was out of the question. You didn’t treat a woman like Janis to a cheap grope. More importantly, he didn’t want to. That was the amazing thing. He was used to accepting women for the carnal creatures they were. Janis wasn’t like other women, and he wasn’t about to tread on her feelings to satisfy his own lust. Using the last of his willpower, he pulled away from her. His body rebelled, but he held firm. He was not going to use Janis. He was supposed to be protecting her. His desires aside for the time being she was off limits. “Janis, I’m sorry.” Michael stammered, edging further down the bed until he had put some distance between them. “Sorry you kissed me or sorry you stopped?” The look on her face was unreadable. It was a cross between justified anger and a simmering desire for more. Whatever the case, her answer was not what he expected. He couldn’t help but notice she was getting good at surprising him. “Both.” Michael decided not to insult her with anything less than the truth. “Don’t let it happen again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think we need to go to sleep and before you get any funny ideas. I’ll be in this room and you’ll be wherever it is you go when you’re not irritating the hell out of me.” Janis pointed to the door. The scowl on her face told him she was serious. Janis pushed him toward the door, when the finger seemed to have no effect. Michael let her. He had made a mistake. Kissing her had definitely been a mistake. One he was going to pay for in spades. He felt her eyes burning into him the whole time he was walking to his room. Opening his bedroom door, he glanced back to Janis’s door. She was still standing there, glaring at him. She still had a confused look on her face. When she saw him watching her, she slammed the door shut in his face. Michael smiled. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. You couldn’t be that pissed off at someone and not be feeling something. Finding out what that something was might be just what he needed. If he wasn’t mistaken, it might be what she needed, too.
The Michelangelo Blues
26
Chapter 7 Janis slumped against the closed door with a disgruntled sigh. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. She couldn’t believe she had just kissed Michael Dumont. Why the hell did she have to go and kiss him? She wanted to, but it didn’t mean she had to go ahead and lock lips with the man. It was the stress. They always say under times of extreme stress you tend to deal with it sexually, like a glad to be alive reflex or some other bullshit like that. Michael certainly was the definition of sexually. It was too bad he knew it too. Tomorrow, she would just explain to him the kiss was one big mistake. He would have to realize it meant nothing and how crazy it would be for him to read anything more into it. He would just have to understand the kiss was a one time diversion and under no circumstances was there going to be a repeat performance. Walking over to the bed, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she truly wanted? She fell on the bed with an unsatisfied grunt. Her mind turned the question over, as her head sunk into the thick down pillow. She had denied the part of herself wanted to love and to be loved for so long she wasn’t sure of what she wanted anymore. Did she really want a man in her life right now? Her partnership in CMC was a sign. Her career was finally on track. A few more years she might even have the experience and money to open her own practice, a dream she had been cultivating since the first day of law school. Letting herself become involved with anyone could jeopardize her entire future, especially if that someone was Michael Dumont. Michael was like a dream, an old dream. She was a fool to even think the dream could come true. Damn him for kissing her! She was as much to blame for letting him do it, but it felt so good. Everything was so clear before Wallace threw him back into her life. She had everything lined out. Now, she couldn’t get Michael off her mind, or the taste of him off her lips. Ten years ago, this would have been heaven. Here in the real world it was hell. She had a man trying to kill her, a job she loved and all she could think about was a man who was totally wrong for her. It was like some bad Lifetime movie. Why couldn’t it be an episode of Boston Legal? Shatner would have figured the whole thing out by now. She rolled over on her side and hugged the pillow to her chest. She was too old to be having these feelings. Michael would have to remain where he needed to be, out of sight, out of mind. Tomorrow, she would call Wallace and just tell him this wasn’t going to work. But, knowing Wallace, he’d ask why. There was no way she could tell him the real reason why. He’d laugh in her face. The worse case scenario was he might think she wasn’t ready for the partnership. She had worked too hard to lose it, just because she couldn’t control her raging hormones. As much as she hated to admit defeat, she would have to tough it out. If she kept her distance from Michael, she should be able to shove these feelings down where they belonged. Where that was, she wasn’t sure? Janis just knew for the time being, a man did not belong anywhere in her life. She was still thinking about it, as sleep claimed her in its uneasy grasp. ***** Hours later, Janis awoke with a start. Her eyes were still closed with the last remnant of sleep, which refused to turn her loose. A vague sensation tickling at the back of her mind told her to keep them closed. Someone was in the room with her. All she could think was somehow Bettis had followed them to Michael’s house. She stopped breathing.
J. Morgan
27
She froze, hearing the floorboards beside the bed creak. The beating of her heart, echoed painfully in her ears. The bed dipped, as the intruder slipped between the sheets to join her. Janis was paralyzed with fear. This could not be happening. She was supposed to be safe. Michael was protecting her. Then his voice filled the air above her head. “Janis, I couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss.” “Michael,” she gasped. “Don’t talk.” Janis felt his warm hand slid down the small of her back. Even through the faded jersey, she could feel the heat of him. Then, he was cupping the swell of her bottom. His hand kneaded the firm flesh, squeezing it tight between his strong fingers. His other hand flicked the hair away from her neck and there was the caress of his warm lips on the curve of her ear. Her breath came in ragged pants, as she struggled to breathe from the urgency of his onslaught. She nearly jumped from the bed when his finger slipped past the hem of her panties and slid against her moist cleft. Her legs clamped down and she held them firmly in place. Moans escaped her, as his talented fingers maneuvered her up the bed, while his thumb gently rolled her clit in time to his driving fingers. She cried out, as her climax blasted through her. Janis didn’t have time to catch her breath. Michael rolled her over on top of him. She flinched, as she felt the length of him fill her. The silky heat of his shaft sent another wave of pleasure flowing through her. His hands gripped her hips, as he thrust inside her. She rocked back, matching the rhythm of his stroke. She had never felt like this before. Her hand rose to his rock hard chest. He leaned forward and caught her breast in his waiting mouth. His tongue flicked her erect nipple before capturing it and pulling it tight. She screamed, as another climax threw her into his arms. He clasped her tight, as his own rushed to meet hers. Janis laid there for what seemed like forever, relishing in the strong warmth of his body against her. She had almost lulled herself back to sleep, when she felt Michael’s fingers tracing the outline of her areola. The sound of her pounding heart reverberated in her head, drowning out everything else. She thought she would go deaf from the raging beat. In her sleepy state it took her a second or two to figure out it wasn’t her heart beating. It was the sound of someone beating on the door. Janis rolled over to tell Michael to go get rid of whomever it was. He wasn’t there but he had been there a minute ago. The memory of him was clear in her mind. It suddenly dawned on her she must have been dreaming. It was ridiculous to even think of it as a dream. She didn’t have dreams like that. As far as she knew no one did, except for maybe teenage boys. The tingling sensations running up and down her spine told her different. Heaven help her, she had officially entered into her second puberty. Janis rolled to the edge of the bed, disgusted with herself. The banging at the door had not stopped. She could now hear Michael’s muffled voice through the door. Man! That was just what she needed, the object of her nighttime erotic fantasies knocking at her door. Janis didn’t even bother to throw anything over her disheveled clothes. She stormed over to the door and threw it open. Michael stood on the other side wearing nothing but a pair of flannel sleep pants. His bare chest looked even better in the pale light from the windows than it had in the afternoon sun. She had to catch herself from thinking she was
The Michelangelo Blues
28
still asleep. He looked so good standing there, she had to rub her eyes and blink to make sure. “I hope you have a good reason for banging on my door.” Janis demanded, once she had regained her powers of speech. “I heard you screaming. I thought you might be in trouble,” he hastened to explain. Janis softened at his concern. She had no right to be angry with him. It was her dream, her problem. “I was having a bad dream.” She saw no need to tell him the real reason for her screams. “After everything you’ve been through tonight bad dreams are completely understandable. It’s no wonder you’re having nightmares. You just had me worried. I thought Bettis had tracked us down.” He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. His touch sent tendrils of electricity shooting through her. This was definitely not working. Even his touch made her want to melt into his arms. She had to get away from him before she made a fool out of herself by jumping his bones right now. “I’ll be all right. Michael, I want you to know I really appreciate what you’re doing. Looking after me, I mean.” Janis backed into the bedroom, letting his hand drop from her shoulder. “But I think all I need right now is a good night’s sleep.” “Just doing my job.” He smiled, as she gently shut the door in his face, locking it behind her. His answer tore through her. All she was to him was a job. She should have known she was reading too much into his concern. She was a paycheck to him, and nothing more. She should be glad. As long as this was a business arrangement, she didn’t have to worry about feelings getting in the way. Then, why did the idea make her feel even worse?
29
J. Morgan
Chapter 8 Janis woke up the next morning, her body wet with sweat. She tried not to think about the dreams that had left her in this shape. She swung her legs off the bed and groaned. The muscles in her legs ached, as if her dreams had really taken place. Suspicion sprang like an angry snake in her mind. Her eyes darted to the door. It was still locked, like she had left it the night before. So much for her paranoia about sleepwalking or midnight prowlers. All she had to blame for her condition was a very vivid imagination. She wanted nothing more than a steaming hot shower to wash the filth from her mind, but vetoed the idea. The last thing she wanted to do was have one of those awkward bathroom moments with Michael. Half-showered with Michael busting in, would be the final nail in her coffin of shame. She would grudgingly go through the day mentally and physically dirty before she let that happen. Throwing her clothes on, she caught the scent of frying bacon and best of all, coffee. She quickly slipped into her clogs and made for the kitchen. Awkward kitchen moments held no fear for her, as long as coffee and bacon were involved. Late morning shadows crossed the hallway from the long slender windows lining the hallway. The sight made her suddenly realize she was late for work. It had to be nearly ten o’clock from the looks of those shadows. Wallace was going to have a cow. She was never late. True, she had a damn good excuse, but wasn’t about to play the damsel in distress card, if she could help it. She would simply call work and head out, as soon as she had her cuppa and a slice or five of bacon. Entering the small kitchen, Janis’s breath caught in her throat. Michael was standing in front of the ancient stove wearing next to nothing. He had on an old pair of Bastille High School workout shorts that had seen better days. A white tank top groped his sculpted chest and arms. Janis thought it had to be illegal to look that good and not be on the inside cover of a fashion magazine. When he turned around, she almost lost all control. Michael had a big grin on his face, when he saw her standing there. She wished she could lie to herself and say the grin was for her. Janis was a big girl. She knew it was just a grin from one of the most frightening types of people alive, a morning person—the bane of her existence. Life did not start until eleven o’clock. If he didn’t know that, something was wrong with him. Nobody got up happy and could truthfully admit to being a sane functioning member of society. It was the first chink in his perfect armor. All she had to do was to find some more chinks to go along with the one glaring at her now, and she would be able to convince herself she wasn’t falling in lust with the guy. “Hey, sunshine. Hope you like a big breakfast.” Michael shoved a pan full of eggs toward her to illustrate just how big he meant. “Coffee,” Janis groaned, searching the cupboard above his head for a cup, since he was way too slow for her liking. “Here let me pour a cup for you.” Michael took the mug from her shaking hand and filled it to the brim. “The sugar and milk are over there.” He pointed to the table. “Thanks.” She grumbled and waddled over to the table. To hell with how she looked. She needed caffeine. They said nothing for the next few minutes. He finished up the eggs, while she tried not to look like she was staring at him over the cup of coffee. Thankfully, he was more
The Michelangelo Blues
30
worried about the eggs than he was with his new in-house stalker. By the time she finished her first cup of coffee he came over with their plates and a refill for her empty cup. The food smelled delicious. She dug in. She glanced up from her fork full of eggs to see him grinning at her. Okay, that was just plain freaky. “Is there something I can help you with?” she snarled. “No, just enjoying your hearty appetite.” Michael pointed his fork at the eggs dripping from her fork. “Well, don’t. It’s just plain scary. You look like Hannibal Lector.” The look she gave him could have curdled milk. “Excuse me. I didn’t know I was doing it.” He sounded hurt. “You’re still doing it.” Janis shoved another forkful into her mouth, waiting for him to take the hint. He averted his eyes and started eating. She gave him a baleful look, as she watched his hound dog eyes stare into the plate. Maybe she had been a tad bit harsh. The Hannibal Lector thing was over the top, even for her. In her defense she hadn’t meant for it to come out like a proclamation from Bitches ‘R’ Us. Face it, girl. You’re frustrated. Janis was shocked her little voice would rebel in such a way. She wasn’t frustrated. How dare her subconscious talk to her like she was a candidate for a house dropping on her! Okay, maybe she owed him an apology. She could have phrased it better. He was just being nice. Would it kill you to be nice? Shut up! I get the message. “Michael, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you Hannibal Lector.” See there. I can be nice. “Don’t mention it.” He was so damn understanding she wanted to be sick. You know, if you get what’s really bothering you off your chest, maybe you wouldn’t be biting his head off. Again with the little voice. Just lay off and I can handle this. “Uh, Michael about last night.” She had almost talked herself out of even bringing it up, but after her hot monkey love dream, she thought it best to nip this in the bud. “I was out of line. I should never have kissed you. You came here for protection and I tried to take advantage of you. If you want to call Uncle Wally to make other arrangements, I’ll understand.” He surprised her by saying exactly what she had been thinking. Michael sounded so sincere Janis couldn’t help but feel bad for all the evil thoughts she’d entertained. “I don’t think going to Wallace will be necessary. I just don’t want it to happen again.” Even as she said it, she knew she was lying. Janis couldn’t help but want to feel his lips on hers again and have them venture to other more exciting places. “Scouts’ honor.” He gave her a mock salute that strangely resembled a Vulcan hand gesture. “Good.” She stammered then caught herself. “I’m fixing to get ready to go into work. I guess this bodyguard thing means you’ll have to drive me.” “Janis, you’re not going anywhere.” The order shocked her. “Yes, I am. I’ve got three cases pending and two of them have pleas to be filed before the end of today or both cases will be thrown out.” She couldn’t believe he was doing this. Bodyguard or not, he had no business telling her what she could or couldn’t do. “Wallace called this morning. He’s talked to Judge Rutherford and got a continuance on both cases. He’s having someone run over the files on the third case for you.” Michael flinched, as he saw the anger swim into her squinted eyes. He waited
J. Morgan
31
patiently for the hammer to fall. “This is ridiculous. Surely, Wallace doesn’t think Bettis can get to me at the office or in court. He is just being stubbornly overprotective, as usual.” As soon as she got to the phone, she was going to give Wallace a piece of her mind. “No, but he could follow you back here from either place. For now the safest thing for you to do is to stay put,” Michael said, bursting her bubble. She hadn’t thought about that. Dammit, why did he have to be right? She was trapped here for the duration. She might as well get used to it. Until Bettis was caught, she was a prisoner. Janis cradled her head in her hands. This was too much. “So, what am I supposed to do until they catch him?” Janis asked, giving herself over to the evitable. “I don’t know. Feel like getting your picture painted?”
The Michelangelo Blues
32
Chapter 9 All Janis wanted to do was scratch her nose. Was a harmless end to this insufferable itching too much to ask for? There were laws about this type of torture and if there wasn’t, there damn well should be. She’d been sitting, in this same position for half an hour, and frankly she was bored out of her skull. Janis knew most women in her position would be thrilled to be the subject of a painting, especially with someone as sexy as Michael doing the painting. Well, it wasn’t all that. How Mona Lisa kept smiling without shoving a camel hairbrush up Leonardo’s backside was beyond her? At first it sounded like fun. The courier wasn’t going to be here with her files until after one, so why not waste a little time? With Michael across the room, the chance of nothing happening between them was a safe bet. She thought it was a good plan until he came over and started touching her face. His hands were gentle, as he pulled her face into first one position then into another. It seemed like forever before he finally decided on just the right pose. By the time he was through she was close to passing out. He smelled like heaven. His rich musky scent filled her senses to the exclusion of all else, including clear thinking. He backed away and did the artist thing by putting his thumb in the air. The urge to jump up and suck the digit nearly sent her flying from the chair. A leg cramp, more than common sense, kept her from doing it. Aside from the cramp, she was all right until he told her not to move. Who told somebody to stay still and expected them not to move? It was insane to think she could sit here like a statue all day. What was she the Venus de frigging Milo? The only highlight was she could ogle him and not look like she was ogling him. Michael did look like heaven on a stick after all. He was so intense. She could have been totally naked and he wouldn’t have noticed. His eyes never left her face, except to dart back and forth to the canvas. Janis didn’t know if she liked his intensity to the distraction of everything else. She wasn’t about to pose in the nude mind you, but if she did, she at least would like to be ogled back. Finally, she had as much immobility as she could stand. It was either move, or her nose was going to itch off, which would have ruined his painting anyway. Fighting the cramps running the length of her crossed legs, Janis uncurled herself from the chair and happily scratched her irritated nose. She sighed in unrestrained pleasure. “Janis, I was almost done.” Michael whined, when he looked up from the canvas to find she no longer sat on the stool. “I needed a break. My nose itched and I have to pee. So, unless you were going to run to the bathroom for me, I’m calling recess.” Janis huffed, as she staggered across the room. Her legs were killing her from inactivity. “This isn’t grade school. You can’t call recess.” He slapped his brush into the jar of milky water beside the easel and followed her. “Watch me. Now, I’m going to the bathroom. I’m telling you where I’m going, so you don’t follow me.” Janis stuck her hand in the universal sign for back off Jack. “I’m not following you.” He countered. “Sure, looks like it.” Janis cocked her eyebrow at him indignantly. “I was going to get us something to drink,” he stammered. “Likely story.” Janis raised her eyebrow, letting him know she wasn’t falling for it. Time to play with his mind a little bit. “Look, it’s no skin off my back, if you’re a closet
33
J. Morgan
bathroom lurker, but I refuse to be your unwitting victim.” “I’ll have you know I am not, have never been, nor shall I ever be a bathroom lurker.” The very idea was preposterous. What was a bathroom lurker anyway? “I shouldn’t have mentioned it, seeing as how you’re in denial and everything. Just forget I said anything. I’m sure than in certain circles your lurking ways could be considered eccentric. So, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Janis patted him gently on the cheek and swept past him toward the bathroom. ***** Michael stared after her. How come every time she talked to him, he felt so tonguetied? He felt like he was on the losing end of any type of conversation he tried to have with her. Was there even anything to lose? Damn, he wasn’t sure. Until he met Janis again, he thought he knew women. Before her, women had been so simple. They wanted something. He wanted something. Ninety percent of the time it was the exact same thing. For the other ten percent of the time, he learned to run like hell, because he could hear the wedding bells going off in their pretty little heads. Marriage was not on his to-do list, even though it topped theirs. As far as he was concerned, the only happily married man was a dead married man. Why else were they always smiling in the coffin at the funeral? He couldn’t honestly say, he had never thought about getting married. Everyone did at least once in their misbegotten youth. Older and wiser, he saw marriage as a last resort or a possible tax dodge. Janis was changing all those feelings. It had only been two days, not even two days. In a short amount of time he found himself drawn to her. When she wasn’t in the room he thirsted for her to be with him. Last night had been the worst night of his life. He lay awake all night, thinking about her being just down the hall. When he finally did get to sleep, she was everywhere. The thought of her was driving him mad. He was doing things he’d never done before, like this morning. He never cooked breakfast. That was what Pop-tarts were for. Yet, there he was cooking like he knew what he was doing. He’d even hidden the Pop-tarts in case she checked the pantry and found out what a fraud he truly was. He caught himself pausing beside the bathroom door on his way to the kitchen. He was a bathroom lurker! He shook his head and scampered toward the kitchen before she could catch him. He needed a drink, something a damn sight stronger than the iced tea he had planned to get them. He had nearly made it to the kitchen, when the doorbell rang and instantly went on alert. It was probably the courier from his uncle, but he wasn’t going to take the chance Bettis might show up on his doorstep. He stopped on his way to the door and got his police issue nine mm from where he kept it in the hall closet. He checked the magazine before clicking a shell into the chamber. Michael let the gun fall to his hip and side-stepped his way toward the door. Through the French style front door he could see a shape shifting back and forth in front of the window. Michael heard the bathroom door slide open behind him. Glancing back, he motioned for Janis to go back in. He saw the rebellion in her face. He was afraid he was going to have to cause a scene, until she caught sight of the gun in his hand. Without hesitation she backpedaled into the bathroom. With her safely out of the way he could put his full attention to guy at the door. He rode the left-hand wall all the way to the door. He really didn’t expect Bettis to
The Michelangelo Blues
34
ring the doorbell, but after last night he wouldn’t have bet against it. The man was stupid and crazy. It was a bad combination in a man, as hardcore as Bettis. The ex-con had nothing left to lose. It was the very reason why he was so dangerous. If he got caught, he was going back to jail. A man looking at thirty years behind bars was liable to do anything. The sound of the bathroom door opening for a second time stopped him cold in his tracks. He hissed and turned around. Janis was standing there with an old baseball bat clinched in her hands. Where the hell had she found the frigging bat? He couldn’t even remember owning a bat since he was in high school. It didn’t matter. He snarled and waved her back toward the bathroom. All she did was shake the bat at him and ease her head out a little further into the breezeway. Damn fool woman was going to get herself killed! You had to admire her backbone. She wasn’t about to take shit off anybody. Her stubbornness didn’t make his job any easier. He knew screaming at her would do him no good, so he turned back to the door. He held his breath, as he sidled up to the left-hand side of the door. Michael partially hidden behind the jamb, could see movement on the other side of the door. Lowering his head, he peeked out the slender sidelight. At the same time Wallace glared through the glass back at him. Michael let out a sigh of relief. The past few minutes had aged him about a hundred years. He reached over and flipped the lock. Seconds later, Wallace came bustling through the door. The lawyer stopped dead in his tracks, when he saw the gun in Michael’s hand. “Expecting trouble, I see,” Wallace remarked, clearing his throat. “I’m glad to see you’re taking this seriously.” “If I’m not mistaken it’s what you’re paying me to do, isn’t it Unc?” Michael slipped the safety back on the gun. “Remember that. Now, where’s Miss Stockwell?” Wallace didn’t wait for an answer. He headed down the hall, leaving Michael to trail after him. “I’m down here, Wallace.” Janis came out of the bathroom, still clutching the bat. “That’s a first, Mickey. A woman coming out of your bathroom, who isn’t trying to pull her clothes on before she runs back to her husband. Let me tell you, it’s a pleasant surprise.” “Thanks, Uncle Wally. I thought you were sending someone over.” Michael changed the subject, as he pushed past his uncle to herd the man toward the kitchen. “No one knows Janis is here. I’d like to keep it a secret for as long as I can. The less people who know where she’s hiding, the less chance Bettis will find her.” “So, there’s been no sign of him?” Michael grabbed three glasses from the cabinet and set them on the counter. “Yes and no. Bob sent two of his men over to his ex-wife’s. She was roughed up pretty bad. She’s in Bastille General. Doc Watson said they’d probably have to transfer her to LSU Medical,” Wallace answered, while he watched Michael pour them iced tea. “Shit! You’d think with the bloody trail he’s leaving behind him, he’d be easier to track down.” Michael slammed the picture of tea down on the counter, sending a splash into the air. “Bob is focusing on his known associates now. Most of them are dead or in jail, but a few remain in Bastille. Hopefully, one of them knows where the bastard’s at.” Wallace said, doubting the police would be able to turn anything up. “If they don’t, we’re screwed. I think we need to keep this to ourselves. The last thing Janis needs to hear is something like this on top of everything else. She’s freaking out bad enough without finding out what that animal has been up to,” Michael warned,
J. Morgan
35
putting a glass of tea into Wallace’s hand. “What exactly do I not need to find out about?” Janis startled them both, as she entered the room. “Nothing, Janis. We were just going over some family business, nothing for you to worry about.” Wallace shot Michael a sly wink. “I think you’re both full of crap and don’t try to deny it. I saw the wink, Wallace. So, cut the bullshit. I distinctly heard Bettis’s name as I came down the hall and something about LSU Medical.” She turned her wicked glare on Michael. “Now, since he’s not willing to tell me the truth, you want to give it a go.” “Look, Janis. We’re just trying to protect you.” Michael found the courage to say and regretted it, as soon as it left his lips. “By keeping things from me. If my life is in danger, I want to know everything. Got me?” She slapped her hand down on the table between them, making both men jump. “All right, you asked for it. Bettis paid a visit to his ex-wife last night. He roughed her up pretty good.” Wallace said, not daring to look her in the eye. “And you thought I couldn’t handle knowing what a sadistic fuck he is. Well, I’m a helluva lot stronger than either of you give me credit for.” This time her gaze bore down on both men. “Janis, we were just looking out for you,” Wallace stammered. “Let me ask you a question. While I was safely locked up with Michelangelo here, who was watching his wife? If he was coming after me, didn’t anyone think that just maybe he’d go after her too? She was as much the reason his sorry ass landed in jail, as I was.” She lowered her face until it was even with Wallace’s. “Or was she too unimportant for anyone to give a damn about?” “Janis it isn’t like that.” Wallace stammered. “Like hell it isn’t! I grew up in this town. Shelly Bettis is a high school drop out whose parents came from below Decater Street just like me. If she’d come from Country Club Lane half the force would have been camped on her doorstep.” What she didn’t say was that without Wallace on her side it might be her on the way to LSU Medical along with Shelly Bettis. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but Shelly Bettis isn’t the one I’m worried about. You are.” Wallace locked eyes with her. “And I don’t care what it takes he isn’t getting his hands on you.” “Well, I’ll make it easy for you. Since you two big strong men know what’s best for me, I’ll just go hide in my safe little room, until you two super studs catch Bettis and save little ol’ me.” She turned on her heel and walked from the kitchen, leaving both men sitting there with their mouths flapping open. “As emotionally charged scenes go, it could have gone better.” Wallace said, looking over to Michael for support. “Ya think. It could have gone a lot worse, too.” Michael grimaced. “What do you mean?” Wallace asked. “At least she didn’t rip our balls off and stomp all over them before she left,” he said tersely. Wallace shifted uneasily in his chair. He wasn’t surprised to see Michael doing the same. One thing was sure. They had just let the tiger out of the cage. For the first time since this mess started, he actually felt sorry for Bettis.
The Michelangelo Blues
36
Chapter 10 Hiding in her room was not her idea of being a strong woman. In the face of everything, telling her different Janis had been doing the exact opposite for most of the afternoon. She had barricaded herself in here, ever since dragging the truth out of Michael and Wallace. At first, she had run away in furious indignation. As time wore on indignation slowly slipped away. The longer she found herself thinking about it, the more the furious part took over. Janis could not believe they had been trying to hide things from her in the first place. She expected it from Wallace, but Michael was going along with it. Hell, the whole thing had been his frigging idea! What did she expect? For all his talk, Michael was just as duplicitous as any man. She was a fool to think he could be trusted. What did they think? She would fall apart at the slightest sign of danger. She was not some simpering child. She could handle the raw ugly truth, especially when it was her life at stake. It was just the typical male reaction, let’s baby the poor dear. Then, they go all, “You have to have a penis to deal with things like this.” Well, the male hero thing was bullshit! Women were just as strong as any man. If that was true, then why was she the one hiding in this room instead of proving it to them? Because she was scared. The thought galvanized itself into her brain. She was almost shaking with the weight of it. This is not how she envisioned her life turning out. She had traded her childhood dreams for reality. Long ago she had locked away all those little things to focus on a career she didn’t want because she was too afraid to try anything else. It was a painful truth to discover. What was even harder to take was it took a madman coming after her to find the fact out. Janis lay back on the bed. She couldn’t help but wonder if the thing with Bettis was what was really wrong with her? Or was it the way Michael was starting to make her feel? She couldn’t deny she was feeling something. Last night more than proved she had some sort of feelings for him. She wasn’t denying she didn’t have the occasional daydream about hunky underwear models, but who didn’t? Janis was healthy enough to admit a stunning view of six-pack abs had the appropriate effect on her. This was more than a simple case of lust and it was making her crazy. She should be worrying about Bettis, not pondering whether or not Michael thought she was a big wuss for storming out of the kitchen this morning, or not. Janis had to cut this out or she was going to go insane. Then, it hit her. All she needed to do was just sleep with him and get over it. She was using him as the focus for her frustration. Yes, she was frustrated! Six years without a man tended to do strange things to a woman’s equilibrium. To make it even more pathetic the last time hadn’t been all explosions and rockets bursting in midair. In fact she couldn’t even remember a firecracker going off anywhere in the room, so as far as she was concerned it didn’t happen. If she gave into her urges, they would go away. It was classic psychology. Take the treat and the desire goes away. Sure, big talk while you’re hiding in bed, but you’ll never do it, she chided herself. Janis knew she couldn’t seduce Michael. She wouldn’t become one of ‘those women’. She had too much self-respect for herself to become a Desperate Housewife. But if the opportunity presented itself, would she turn it down? The thought fluttered through her mind, bringing forth a horde of images making her go weak in the knees. Janis brushed
J. Morgan
37
away the thin sheen of sweat miraculously appearing on her brow, and sat up. God, she was turning into a teenager with all the raging hormones to go with it. Janis fumbled with her watch. It was 1:52. She had been in her room for over two hours. Oh yeah! She was acting so grown up. She knew Wallace was gone. He’d left shortly after she had torn both of them a new one in the kitchen. So, at least he didn’t know she had spent the whole afternoon brooding in her room. She was at least spared the shame of the silent tisk tisk under his breath. Michael, on the other hand, knew. She must have put the fear of God into him, because he hadn’t made a peep the whole time she’d barricaded herself up in here. What if he left with Wallace? No, he wouldn’t do leave her alone in the house with Bettis on the loose. He was out there. He was just too afraid to show his face. She couldn’t blame him, if he was. She had turned into the Wicked Bitch of the South, and gone all psycho on him. Maybe he was in the studio. She sincerely hoped so. She had to use the bathroom and didn’t want to run into him just yet. She went to the door and cracked it open enough to see if he was moving about. No sign of him. She opened the door wider. The door to the studio was closed. She could hear his radio blaring, even through the closed door. Good, he must be holed up in there, painting or whatever it was he called it. Taking one last look toward the studio, Janis shot from the door and made a beeline for the bathroom. As quick as she could, she swung the bathroom door open, ducking in just in time to see Michael stepping from the shower. His head was covered by his towel, which he was using to vigorously dry his head. Every muscle in his well-formed body rippled from the jerky movements. Janis knew she could dart out and he would be none the wiser. The plan was good in theory, but she was frozen to the spot. His whole body glistened, flushed from the heat of the shower. Her eyes devoured every inch of exposed skin. They slid over the rocky sculpture of his chiseled chest to the marbled valleys of his abs. Then her eyes went wide, as they dipped lower. If water caused shrinkage, she sure as hell couldn’t tell it from what he was showcasing. She bit her lips wondering if the driver was as good as his equipment. Janis was still standing in the same spot with her eyes opened wide, when the towel fell from Michael’s head. The look on his face almost made her foray into voyeurism worthwhile. Then, she realized she was drooling, which sobered her. Her mouth didn’t close any quicker. It just meant she knew it was open and would remain in the open position until he covered himself or she could get her butt in gear to beat a hasty retreat. ***** The bad thing was Medusa couldn’t have paralyzed him any quicker than the sight of her standing there. Michael couldn’t move. His mind told him to do something, anything. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, which he sure as hell did! Her spellbound face held him glued in place. He had never been one to be intimidated by a woman, but Janis was a totally different matter altogether. The vision of her drinking in his nude body made him feel insecure. If it had been anybody else, he would have tried to talk them into bed or onto the bathroom floor. Janis made him want to run and hide. She was blocking the door, so that option was out. He could dodge back into the shower and pull the curtain tight. To Michael it seemed the coward’s way out, but dammit did she have to stare at him like a deer caught in headlights?
The Michelangelo Blues
38
He had to move, one way or the other. He forced his leg to move. His first step was into a puddle of water that had pooled from his dripping body. His second step sent him flying across the room. The wet floor slid under him, as he flew toward Janis. Michael saw only one avenue of escape. He twisted his body, hoping to avoid a head-on collision. Janis woke from her stupor just in time to move directly into his path. He closed his eyes, as he realized there was no way to avoid hitting her. They collided with a wet thud and went straight to the floor in a mass of twisted flesh. Michael sensed Janis’s warm body wedged tightly under him. The feel of her beneath him sent shockwaves running through his system. Acting beyond his control, his libido awakened at the full body contact. Michael wanted to deny it, but couldn’t. For the first time in his life he found himself wanting a woman who did not want him. The thought frightened him. He was always in control of himself. He prided himself on his self-control. Michael wished he could still say it was firmly in place. Janis had taken away his vaulted self restraint. It was like his mind had relinquished all future judgments to his dick. Heaven help him. It had a one-track mind and the track lead directly to Janis Stockwell. Michael tried to scramble away, but his legs were tangled up with hers. He couldn’t move. He was trapped with his own body rebelling against him. He had to get the hell out of here before she realized just how much he’d lost it. ***** Janis came awake with the intoxicating smell of Michael filling her nose and mouth. She had only been knocked out for a second. The impact had taken the breath from her. The crisp scent of him wasn’t helping either. She was about to open her eyes, when she felt a bulge against the side of her leg, and it twitched. My God! Was that? It couldn’t be! It was! The twitching stopped and turned into an urgent tug, as she felt him sliding down her body. This was not going to do. Granted, watching him in the buff might not have been her best idea, but this was taking it to an all new level of wrongness. Michael’s body snapped to a sudden stop above her, as she shifted under the bulk of his rock hard flesh. He slowly inched his face back up to hers. Her twinkling eyes greeted him with bemused sensuality. She couldn’t mistake the raw heat burning its way through her jogging pants or its source. “Having trouble, are we?” Janis remarked, straining to keep a straight face. She wanted nothing more than to reach down and wrap her hands around him, her own uncertainty and modesty held her back, but not by much. “I, uh.” She let a slow grin fill her face as Michael’s mouth found itself unable to form sensible words. “I hope ‘I uh’ isn’t your answer, but at least I know all the blood hasn’t left your brain.” Her hand absently fell between them, as she took in the confusion peppering his face. “Could you, uh, please stop, uh, doing that?” Michael stammered, as her fingers began to tap a merry tune up the length of his shaft. Her face went deep purple, as she realized what he was talking about. “Sorry.” She snapped her hand back then hastily added. “I have a nervous condition.”
J. Morgan
39
“So, you touch naked men when you’re nervous.” Michael smirked, as he lowered his head until his nose was almost touching hers. “Now, we’re getting somewhere. Is there any other nervous conditions I should know about?” “That’s not what I meant! I’m touching you, not men.” She exclaimed, her face red with mortification. “So, you only want to touch me when you’re nervous. Now, we’re getting to the root of the problem. Would it shock you to know that I’m nervous too?” Michael dropped his hand to the swell of her breast, making her jump. Janis moaned, as his hand swept across her breast, his hand dragging the soft fabric tight against her nipple. It instantly hardened. She caught her breath, thanking heaven her shirt was thick enough to hide it from him. “Did I strike a nerve there?” Michael let out a hearty laugh. “No, you didn’t.” Janis said, fighting to regain some semblance of sanity. The sound of his laughter cut through her like a knife. This was all a joke to him. She was a joke to him. Janis knew exactly what she was to him, a conquest to notch upon his bedpost with the rest of his floozies, and nothing more. How could she be so stupid to think about actually sleeping with him? She had been a fool to think he was anything but the gigolo she had thought he was. Janis fought to hold back the tears of shame she felt welling up inside her. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Pushing against his chest, Janis unseated him and wiggled out from under him. She was halfway to the door before he realized what she was doing. Turning back to take a last look, Janis stopped at the door. Michael was sitting there with a confused look on his face. “You should get dressed, Mr. Dumont. I would hate for someone to find you lurking in the bathroom in your birthday suit. Someone might get the wrong idea.” Fighting back tears Janis turned on her heel and stormed from the bathroom, not about to let him see her cry.
The Michelangelo Blues
40
Chapter 11 Michael decided making himself scarce was the only answer to ridding himself of the memory of what had happened between them in the bathroom. Since there was no way he could forget it, Michael did the next best thing. He threw himself into taking care of some long overdue chores. Three and a half of hours of grueling yard work later, he was still unable to wipe the feel of her body from his mind. If anything, it made him work harder. By the time the sun had begun to set he had cleared up every fallen limb and loose bit of trash from the yard into a sizable pile by the road. When brute manual labor wasn’t enough to take Janis off his mind, he started mowing. It was late fall and the grass was short, but it didn’t matter. Pushing the ancient mower around the yard helped to clear his mind. It was the one thing that always seemed to work. Some people thought better, while they were taking a shower. Some used the drive home for quiet contemplation. As far as Michael was concerned, all problems could be solved after a healthy and lengthy mowing session. He knew it sounded strange, which is why he never discussed his unique therapy with anyone else. Still, he was sure if someone ever got around to writing the definitive handbook to being a man, mowing would be in there. The popularity of lawn maintenance was undeniable. There was no other explanation for why men around town, sporadically mowed their yards at the exact time their wives went on mad cow rampages. After placing the lawn mower under the shed, Michael plopped down on the bench sitting beside the kitchen door. He took his shirt off and laid it beside him on the wrought iron bench, after wiping the thick layer of sweat from his chest and arms. He was going to need another shower, but couldn’t bring himself to think about anything remotely involving the bathroom now. Even through a locked door, Michael couldn’t muster the courage to even contemplate the idea of taking a shower, while Janis was still in the house. Michael leaned back and watched as the last rays of sunlight played across the yard. Pale oranges and pinks gave way first to indigo then finally settled to a black star field. A cool breeze sprang from the north raising goosebumps on his bare flesh. The wind brought the promise of the coming winter he had been waiting all summer to enjoy. Dusk had always been Michael’s favorite time of day. It was perfect, idyllic in its simplicity. Everything around him harkened back to his childhood. The steady buzz of nighttime insects began to filter through the air. At the edge of the woods lining the right side of his property a halo of fireflies hummed in and out of the dense foliage. He smiled, as he remembered all the times he had run wild chasing them through those very woods, hoping to catch lightening in a bottle. Why couldn’t things stay as simplistic as childhood forever? The sound of Janis puttering around filtered through the windows above his head, reminding him just how complicated his life was. He smiled despite himself. He was amazed just how much having Janis around the house seemed to affect him. Michael never thought he’d say that about a woman, but she was changing him. If anyone had told him he would be sitting in the dark pining for Janis the mouse, he would have called them crazy. He couldn’t call her mousy now. He hadn’t called her anything before. He’d barely noticed her to tell the truth. What little he remembered was blurry with age and the passage of years. He’d been trying for the past two days to put a face with the horrible nickname
J. Morgan
41
sticking in his mind. All he could come up with was patchwork clothes and the fact she had been a gawky misfit. The only real memory he had of her back then was of a chemistry class they had together. Janis had been so quiet he would never have known she existed, if they hadn’t been paired up as lab partners. Looking back, she was the only reason he’d passed the class. His mind had been so full of himself he had coasted through most classes because he could. Nobody had the balls to flunk Big Jake Dumont’s son and he had known it. Mr. Fryday didn’t play the name game when it came to his class. The chemistry teacher made him fight for every grade. Janis had stuck with him and coached him through the class without asking for anything in return. Most girls would have played it for all it was worth. She didn’t. Sitting in the dark ten some odd years later, he couldn’t believe he was the same selfish bastard who had shared a Bunsen burner with the woman who was haunting his house. He hadn’t even thanked her for all her help. It had been shitty of him, he knew. No wonder she treated him like crap. In her place he would be acting the same way. He’d give anything to take all those callous moments back. Unfortunately, the past was set in stone. There was no going back. All he could do was to try and change her mind about the man he had become. He didn’t want to be the kid from high school any more. He now realized more than anything he wanted to be the man she needed. He wanted to be worthy of the woman she had become. She was willing to put her life on the line to make this world a better place, a safe place for people to live. What did he do? He painted pretty pictures nobody wanted to look at. He wouldn’t lie to himself. When this whole episode was over, Janis would go back to her life. He would be deluding himself, if he thought any different. She might flirt with him, maybe even want him, but she wouldn’t let it go any further. She was a successful lawyer. What was he? For all of his money and upbringing he was nothing more than a two-bit failure. Women could smell that sort of thing on a man. Even if he wanted there to be more between them, what could he offer her but a lot of maybes? Maybe his art career would take off. Maybe someday his reputation would not be an issue. Maybe he would be able to take a shower in his own house without feeling self-conscious about it. The maybes were endless and they all added up to one thing. He and Janis would never be anything more than ships passing in the night. Michael sat brooding in the dark long after the moon had rose high into the night sky. Except for the occasional call of a night bird, the only sound he heard was the tinkling of Janis’s voice, as she talked to someone on the phone. It took a second for it to sink in. Janis was talking to someone on his phone. He had made sure her cell phone was out of juice, so she couldn’t inadvertently reveal her location. Since no one knew she was here, it meant someone other than them now knew she was at his house. Michael leapt from the bench and dashed into the house. He skidded into the living room to find Janis was curled up on the couch. Her bare legs dangled seductively over the arm. The pink socks she wore danced playfully over the couch’s time worn floral pattern. She looked up and gave him a tight smile and waved. His heart skipped a beat. What would it be like to find her every night waiting in his house for him? Michael shook his head. He had to stop thinking like a schoolboy with a crush. He had a job to do and that job was to get her off the damn phone. “Janis!” She shot him a dirty look and kept on talking.
The Michelangelo Blues
42
“Janis, get off the phone right now.” “Gwennie, I’ve got to go. Mr. Hardcase is giving me grief. See you in a little while. Bye.” Janis slammed the phone down, and turned her full fury toward Michael. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I was on the phone.” “I’m trying to save your life. Now, who were you talking to?” Michael tried to sound calm, but he knew he was failing miserably. “I was talking to Gwen, if it’s any of your business.” Janis snarled. “Hell yeah, it’s my business! How can I protect you if you’re calling everyone in town and telling them where you’re at?” Michael was losing it. Her naiveté was amazing. She was single-handedly the most infuriating woman he had ever met. “Gwennie won’t tell anyone where I’m at. She’s my best friend.” Janis couldn’t believe Michael could suspect Gwen of betraying her to Bettis. He was taking this secretive bullshit a little too far. “I’m not saying she would, but think. How many people know she’s your best friend? What if Bettis found out and tried to get to you through her? Didn’t think about that, did you?” Michael accented the last part more forcefully than he should, but he wanted her to think about it long and hard. “She wouldn’t tell him.” Janis all but cried, as his words began to sink in. “Bettis wouldn’t ask nice. He’d beat it out of her. Dammit to hell, Janis! He put his own wife in the hospital twice that we know of. What about what he did to Garvin? If he thinks Gwen knows where you’re at, there’s no telling what he’d do to her to find out.” Michael was shouting now. He hated himself for doing it, but she had to realize this wasn’t a game. “My God! Michael, I didn’t think.” Janis sobbed. “What did you mean when you told her you’d see her in a little while?” Michael wasn’t through with her. This wasn’t going to be pretty, but it had to be done. “Benjy is coming back from his tour tomorrow and her car is on the fritz.” She paused, tears running down her face. “I told her she could come over here and get the keys to my car, so she could go pick him up.” Michael couldn’t even speak. He was too dumbfounded to say anything. Not only had she told this person where she was at, she told her to come on over. Janis might as well have put a notice in the paper saying ‘I’m over at Dumont’s place. Come on over and kill me.’ He had to get out of here before he said something he couldn’t take back. “Michael, I didn’t think!” Janis yelled, as he stalked from the room. His silence slicing through her, felt worse than if he had slapped her across the face.
43
J. Morgan
Chapter 12 Janis was doing her best to ignore Michael. She just couldn’t face him. He had been right. She shouldn’t have called Gwen. She admitted it of her own free will. Calling her had been a mistake. For once in her life, Janis Stockwell was wrong. That said, she hadn’t deserved to be yelled at like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He could have calmly explained it had been a bad idea revealing her location to anyone. But no! He had to be a total ass about it. Instead of enjoying the company of her best friend, she was hosting her own private pity party. Gwen arrived over an hour ago and Janis couldn’t remember saying two coherent words to her. True, Gwen didn’t even seem to notice. She was doing most of the talking, like she usually did when they were together. Janis knew in this instance, she was being rude and it was all Michael’s fault. It was yet another strike against him. She found herself looking for him in spite of the righteous anger she was feeling. Once Gwen was safely in the house, he had all but disappeared, except for the occasional glare of gloom and doom he shot in her direction, as he stormed past the door. His last such visit had been some time ago. She knew he was still here. Janis would know if he left. Quite frankly, after the scene earlier she sincerely doubted he would set even a foot away from the house tonight. “Janis, are you even listening to me?” Gwen called from the edge of the haze Janis was wallowing in. She looked away from the doorway to see Gwen’s face covered from ear to ear with a wide smirk. “Sorry. I don’t know where my head is at tonight.” “Well, if you don’t, I do.” Gwen laughed, her hazel eyes twinkling devilishly. “What are you trying to say?” She struggled to look casual under the heat of Gwen’s scrutiny. “Girl, you got it bad.” Gwen snapped her fingers and wiggled them at her friend. “I do not know what you’re talking about.” Disdain dripped from Janis’s voice like a winter breeze. “Who are you trying to lie to? Better try it on somebody who you didn’t let read your diary in high school.” The ‘I-know-you-better-than-that’ tone in her voice put Janis on the defensive. “It was a long time ago. Michael Dumont is the last thing on my mind.” The lie drip from her mouth without a second thought. “From the looks of it you’re the only thing on his mind,” Gwen snickered like a teenager. She subtly pointed her finger toward the doorway, where the man in question was standing and failing miserably to look like he wasn’t watching them. Noticing the women were looking directly at him, he stalked down the hall. “See what I mean?” “You’re crazy. He’s being paid to protect me. I told you he’s mad because I invited you over here.” Why couldn’t she see reason? Michael was just doing his job. “In my experience a man doesn’t get that pissed off at someone he doesn’t care about,” Gwen said flatly. “I wish I had never told you what he said. We’ve just met again two days ago. You’re reading way too much into this.” Janis was getting frustrated with this conversation and with Gwen. Gwen was switching into matchmaker mode. Janis had seen the evil gleam in her eye before. It usually ended with Janis meeting someone with a bad toupée in a burger
The Michelangelo Blues
44
joint, one of the better case scenarios, when you were dealing with one of Gwen’s fix-meups. She tried not to dredge up any of the real losers Gwen had saddled her with over the years. “Okay, if you say so.” Gwen raised her eyebrow, but allowed the rest of her statement hanging between them unspoken. Her silent indictment set Janis’s teeth to grinding. She wasn’t about to let Gwen know that, though. The best thing to do was change the subject. “So, when does Benjy get back?” “Tomorrow. I have to leave about eleven in the morning to go pick him up. I keep telling him to take his truck and leave it in the lot to save me the drive, but he won’t listen. He says he’s afraid someone will break into it while he’s out on the platform, but the lot is fenced in and they have security on duty twenty-four-seven. The big goob doesn’t think I know what he’s up to. He wants me to be the first thing he sees when he gets off the boat.” Gwen’s voice softened, as she spoke of her husband. Janis wished she had someone like him in her life. Benjy Davis was three hundred pounds of man. He looked like a bear with his bushy beard and hairy arms, but he was the biggest softy you ever met. Ever since their first date, he had doted on Gwen, who was no bigger than his arm. The unlikely pair had ended up the ultimate example of high school sweethearts, marrying as soon as their parents would let them after graduation. The only time Janis remembered seeing him get violent was when Danny Deblieux tried to get frisky with Gwen at the senior prom. It took ten men to pull Benjy off him. Janis knew she would never have somebody love her like he did Gwennie. It wasn’t in the cards for her. As much as she might wish Michael was the kind of man who would love her like that, she knew better. The only thing between them was lust and proximity. Neither of which were a basis for a relationship, let alone love. If only her mind would accept the reality of the situation, she would be able to get over a simple innocent infatuation. Janis caught sight of Michael stomping past the door again. He cast a furtive glance at her and went on by. She couldn’t help but notice, his eyes didn’t leave her until he was past the door. Could Gwen be right? Did he have feelings for her? No, it was better to accept it was just lust. If she started thinking there could be something more between her and Michael, all she’d end up with was a broken heart.
45
J. Morgan
Chapter 13 Michael was walking out to the mailbox when Gwen pulled out of the driveway. She shot him a knowing wave and tore hell-bent for leather down the empty side street. He shrugged, not wanting to know what it was all about. After a long night of enduring endless bouts of giggling and hourly trips to the refrigerator, he was ready for the whole affair to be forgotten in favor of an afternoon nap. He hadn’t even objected, when Janis asked if the woman could go ahead and stay the night. He was too exhausted to put up a fight. Besides, as long as they were huddled together, Janis couldn’t be mad at him. Michael grabbed the mail from the box and took off back down the driveway. At least this morning had been quiet. Janis and her friend took pity on him and slept in. If Janis was still asleep, he could get a Pop-tart and a Coke and enjoy the rest of the morning in peace. Walking into the kitchen, he was happy to note Janis still wasn’t up. He tossed the mail on the table. Gathering his less than healthy breakfast, he headed back to the table. Most of the mail was the usual stack of garbage. A couple of sales fliers caught his eye, so he set them to the side to open later. A letter from his mother he tossed in the read later pile with the fliers. It was way too early to deal with one of his mother’s missives, which usually read like a cross between a form letter and a guilt-ridden plea for help. Two payment reminders he opened and decided to put off until after Wallace paid him. He could write them a hot check but saw no reason to make them mad when a little waiting would suffice. The last letter in the pile was from Atelier Gallery. His hand shook as he opened the letter. It was from the gallery hosting his show at the end of April. He read it three times and the news got worse with each reading. They wanted him to bring a sampling of his paintings down tomorrow for review. He checked the postmark. It was dated two weeks ago. The damn thing must have gotten lost in the mail. According to the letter, the review was mandatory and could not be rescheduled. There was no way he could make the short trip to Shreveport, at least not while he was stuck on bodyguard duty. True, the trip wouldn’t take all that long, but Janis couldn’t be left alone for any amount of time with Bettis on the prowl. Taking her was out of the question. After last night’s tirade he wasn’t even about to suggest it. The safest place for her was tucked away in this house. The minute they were out in the open, she was open to attack. He was just going to have to face the facts. His art career was dead. He might as well call Bob, and tell the man to put him up for full time duty. “Shit!” He cursed in spite of himself. “Aren’t you a happy camper?” Janis groused, as she shuffled into the kitchen. “What’s wrong? Did somebody piss in your cornflakes?” “It’s nothing.” Michael folded the letter and slid it under his Pop-tart. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” Janis remarked. Michael decided to keep his mouth shut. Anything he said would be liable to set off another argument. This morning was turning out bad enough without adding her screaming at him to the mix. So, he sat there watching her stomp around the kitchen. When she grabbed the empty coffee pot, he knew his quiet morning was over.
The Michelangelo Blues
46
“Coffee!” she demanded with a frown on her face. “Sorry, I’m out.” “You’re out. What kind of human fucking human being are you? No one runs out of coffee,” she all but shouted in his face. “Well, I did. There might be a Dr. Pepper in the fridge,” he offered in its place. She paused in mid-tirade. She held her finger up to his face. “Okay, I’m letting you off with a warning this time, but don’t let it happen again. I guess there’s no breakfast either.” “Cheerios.” He flinched even as he said it. “Fruity Peebles?” Janis asked, hopefully. “Maybe twenty years ago,” he chuckled. ***** Her eyes seared a hole through him. How dare he belittle the breakfast of champions? And what was Mr. Grown-up eating? He was probably eating a tofu granola bar fortified with extra bran chunks for regularity. Yuck! Her face fell to the silver wrapped package sitting on the table. He was hoarding frigging Pop-tarts. “I’ll just relieve you of this.” Janis grabbed the toaster pastry, and walked to the refrigerator. She stopped before opening the door and turned back to him. “There had better be a Dr. Pepper in here, or somebody’s taking me to Krispy Kreme.” Janis found the soda behind a rancid looking plate of leftovers. She deftly plucked it out of the fridge, careful not to touch anything on the plate. She couldn’t be sure but she thought something on it took a swipe at her hand. Slamming the door shut, she turned on her heel, and stalked toward the kitchen door. He bit his lips but she caught the flash of amusement in his eyes and knew it was at her expense, his words confirmed it. “I’ve seen some crazy things in my life, but this beats them all, hands down.” “What are you trying to say, Michelangelo?” She grunted, debating whether or not to kill him now or wait for the soda to kick in to steady her aim. “I better get my ass to the store. If you’re jonesin’ this bad after one morning without your coffee fix, I don’t want to see how you’re going to look after two days in a row.” “Push me and you won’t have to wait.” She shook the Pop-tart at him. She didn’t know how threatening a Pop-tart looked, but hoped he got the message. “Yes, ma’am. I promise I’ll be good. Just don’t whoop me with that breakfast goodie.” Michael rolled back in his chair laughing to her disgust. Janis decided she’d lost enough dignity for one day. She was going to go back to her room and eat without his prying eyes watching her. As she headed out the door, his laughter slowly died down. If nothing else, she seemed to have put him in a better mood. She’d have to remember to find out what it was all about later. All she wanted to do was get safely behind closed doors and dig into the Pop-tart. The soda, unfortunately, made it as far as the hallway. By the second gulp Janis was feeling more or less her usual grumpy morning self. It wasn’t coffee, but it came damn close. Lying on the bed, she ripped into the foil wrapper and was surprised to find it was her favorite flavor, cookie dough. At least he had taste in morning junk food, the Cheerio thing aside. It almost made up for having no coffee. Janis was nearly through with the first slab, when she noticed the envelope folded against the wrinkly silver wrapper. She put the pastry down to examine the plain white
J. Morgan
47
piece of paper. Unless the postal service had started delivering breakfast, she must have picked up his mail by mistake. It must have been under the Pop-tart, when she picked it up. Well, she’d give it back to him later. If it was important, he could march his butt down here and get it himself. Last time she checked, she was still mad at him. Angry people did not cheerfully bring back stolen letters. They tore them into little pieces and danced on them. As appetizing as it sounded, Janis knew she wouldn’t do it. For one thing, it called for jumping up and down, which she wasn’t up to doing this early in the morning. Soft drinks only went so far to give her the morning buzz she would need for physical exertion. She had to wonder though. What kind of freak hid mail under a Pop-tart? For curiosity’s sake she read the name on the envelope, Atelier Gallery. The place sounded fancy. It must be the place he had told her about the other night. It had to be from the gallery hosting his art exhibition. Wonder what they wanted with Michael? It was times like this she wished she had those little angels on her shoulders. All she had was the devil one telling her all she had to do was read the letter to find out. Truthfully, it wasn’t like he was all that worried about it. If he was, he would already be down here demanding she return it. All right, she was nosy. Taking a sneaky look toward the door, she decided to go ahead and read it. He had already opened it, so it wasn’t like she was committing a crime, unless you counted her invasion of his privacy as one. He might get angry with her, but she doubted he would be willing to press charges. So, she saw no reason not to read it. It took her less than a minute to scan the form letter. Michael had to go to Shreveport. He was going to leave her here with Bettis on the loose. How could he after all the ‘It’s for your own protection’ garbage he’d been throwing at her? Wait a minute. He had looked kind of sad, sitting there in the kitchen. And then she knew Michael wasn’t going to go. He was going to miss his meeting because of her. She couldn’t think of any other reason why he’d be acting like such a gloomy Gus. According to the letter, if Michael missed this meeting, the gallery would have no choice but to cancel his show. He’d been all excited about it the other night. Mad or not, she couldn’t let him just throw away an opportunity like this. From what Wallace had let it slip the other day Michael wasn’t doing all that well. This art thing could be the boost his career needed. There had to be a way for him to go and still protect her. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. She didn’t even know if he was staying or not. She could be sitting in here feeling sorry for the asswipe and he could be out there, planning his trip. If he was leaving, where did that leave her? He might be a pain in the butt, but he was the only pain in the butt she trusted at the moment. With Michael gone there was no telling who they’d get to protect her. She shivered at the thought. She didn’t want to think about what Wallace would have to say about it. Knowing her boss, Wallace would saddle her with a SWAT team, if he had his way. The thought of the SWAT team settled it. If Michael was going to Shreveport, so was she.
The Michelangelo Blues
48
Chapter 14 Michael was still sitting at the table, when she walked back into the kitchen. He was idly pushing his spoon around in the bowl of what looked like bran flakes, sans raisins. Janis couldn’t help but feel guilty over the fact. She must have taken his last Pop-tart, because nobody in their right mind would eat bran with tasty pastries in the house. Janis watched him for a few minutes, trying to gauge his mood. From the looks of his soggy cereal, she’d have to say he wasn’t about to dance a jig. She wasn’t about to jump to conclusions just yet. It could mean anything. Was he depressed about to going or was he depressed about leaving her in the lurch? In the bedroom, she had been sure she’d be able to tell when she saw him. Janis felt like a stalker just standing here and watching him play dunk the poopfood. She needed to get in there and get it over with. It wasn’t like she was snooping or anything. She’d already invaded his privacy by reading the letter in the first place. He wasn’t going to bite her, though the idea did have a certain appeal. Yeah, she could seduce him and demand in mid-orgasm he tell her, if he was planning to run off to Shreveport, solving two problems in one fell swoop. The thought sent her mind whirling toward all the possibilities the seduction avenue could lead to happening. “Janis, if you’ve come back to yell at me some more, do you think it could wait? I’m kind of in the middle of something.” Michael’s voice jarred her from her daydreaming. “It looks like it.” She walked over to the table and gave the bowl of cereal a dubious look. “You ought to go ahead and throw that in the toilet and save your intestines the work.” “Someone took my breakfast and this was the only thing left in the pantry.” Michael snarled, but she could tell by his voice his heart wasn’t in it. “Sorry about stealing your breakfast. If I knew you were planning on committing intestinal suicide, I would have left you one.” She pushed the bowl away from him like it was radioactive waste. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you in the first place. It’s just I have something on my mind.” He didn’t even look up. His inability to look her in the eyes told her everything she needed to know. Janis took a mental gulp. She pulled the envelope from where she had hidden it in her pocket. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?” “Where did you get that?” Janis flinched from the anger in his voice. “It was under the Pop-tart, when I picked it up,” she said meekly. “So, you decided to read it? Well, thank you! It’s nice to know my privacy is safe and secure with an officer of the court living under my roof. You should consider running for political office. You appear to have the morals for it.” Michael’s voice was one notch below shouting. “You’re a fine one to talk morals, Mr. Sex with the City. Okay, I read your letter. Get over it. I came in here to see if there was some way to help you, but if you’re going to be like that, you can kiss my ass.” She topped him by giving way to a good shout. “Janis, just throw it away.” The melancholy in his voice stopped her from saying anything else. She was right. He meant to blow off the meeting to stay with her. How could she stay angry with a man who was throwing away his future because of her? “Michael, you
J. Morgan
49
can’t go because of me. That’s it. Isn’t it?” “Don’t worry about it. I can reapply next year.” His face was as long, as a whole year sounded. “Like hell you can! You’re going.” She was pissed again, but for an entirely different reason. “Janis, I’m not about to leave you here with Bettis on the loose.” Michael gave her a don‘t mess with me look. “Then, I’ll come with you.” Janis flopped down in the chair. “It’s not a good idea.” “Think about it. Bettis will think I’m still in town. What better place for me to be, than somewhere else?” For once her brain and logic were on the same side. Michael had to give her credit. The idea had merit. Shreveport was the last place Bettis would think to look for her. The downside was, if he did follow them, they would be on their own. She was more than sure Bettis would be none the wiser. She really couldn’t see what the problem was. In fact she was so sure of it she jumped from the chair and headed for the phone. She was already picking up the phone when Michael turned around and said, “Forget it.” “Wallace, this is Janis. I wanted to throw an idea at you.” She saw Michael glaring at her and smiled back. Teach him not to open his mouth sooner. “Janis, what are you doing?” Michael glared at her. She covered the receiver with her hand. “Talking Wallace into letting us go. Now, be quiet so I can work.” She chose to ignore him throwing his hands in the air. Men could be such babies when he came to getting the job done. If he wanted no part of one of Wallace’s tirades, she would be the one to put the cards on the table. She could take the heat, but seriously doubted Wallace was going to make a fuss. In fact, he had been the one to suggest it in the first place. All she would have to do was remind him. “Anyway, Wallace. I was thinking you might have been right the other day. Getting out of town until this mess blows over is the best thing for me to do. With me out of the way the police can go after Bettis without having to worry about me.” “About time you came to your senses. Let me get Bob on the phone and we’ll get you relocated to a safe house,” Wallace said. “No. The way I see it, the less number of people who know where I’m going the better. Michael and I were thinking of heading out this morning. When we get settled, we’ll call and check in with you.” Janis gave Michael a sly wink. “Janis, I’m going to be honest with you. I know he’s my nephew but I really think you need more people than Michael watching over you. I’m not saying I don’t trust him to do the job, but I’d feel safer knowing you had professionals on the case Let me at least get the state troopers on the horn.” “Wallace. Unless I’m mistaken, even someone as dumb as Bettis would notice a line of black cars leaving the city. Thanks for the offer, but it will be safer, if it were just the two of us. We would draw less attention if it was just one car. We both know that there’s no such thing as an unmarked police vehicle, so don’t suggest us being discreetly tailed.” Janis cut him off. She just knew he was going to insist on police reinforcements. “Dammit, Janis! I can’t believe I’m saying this but all right, you two head out. Don’t think you can run off without letting me know what’s going on. I want you to report in every hour on the hour. The first time I don’t hear from you, I’m calling in everybody from
The Michelangelo Blues
50
the FBI to the INS.” His response floored her. “Okay, Daddy. We’ll be good. I promise.” She gave Michael a thumbs up. “So where are you two going?” “I’ll call you when we come to a decision. The important thing is to get as far away from Bettis as we can. We’ll figure something out once we get out of town. If we don’t know were we’re going, how can he?” Her logic was flawed, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. “I guess you leave me no choice. I’ll have to trust in Michael’s judgment. Tell him I’ll have some funds transferred to his checking account so you’ll have some money for expenses. I don’t want either of you using credit cards or anything remotely traceable. I’m not saying Bettis has the smarts to do it, but why chance it?” Janis could hear him jotting down a note for himself to do it, as soon as they hung up. “If you don’t have any more orders, we better get started. Now, since we have your okay, time’s wasting.” Janis grinned at Michael, who she could tell by the expression on his face wasn’t believing how she was playing Wallace or the fact it was working. “Watch yourself Stockwell and tell that nephew of mine if anything happens to you, I’ll have his ass in a sling.” Wallace grumbled, but she could tell it was all for show. Without another word, he hung up. Janis was glad he had. She wasn’t sure, if she could have kept the act up for much longer and kept from blowing it. Wallace was nobody’s fool. If he suspected what she was up to, he’d have put her under the jail until they found Bettis. In fact, they’d better hit the road. The longer Wallace had to think about it, he might just call back and put the kibosh on the whole thing. She figured the sooner they were gone, the best for that very reason. “I can’t believe what you just did and got away with playing him like a fiddle.” Michael said with genuine admiration. “It’s what I do. Five more minutes and he would have offered to send us to Hawaii for the duration.” It was a lie, but not far off the mark. “So, what do we do now?” “Get our stuff packed and get the heck out of Dodge before Wallace has a chance to realize I just put the whammy on him. How long do you think it’ll take for you to get ready?” Janis was already mentally scrolling, through her own to-do list. “Fifteen minutes, tops. I just organized my portfolio, so all I have to do is throw some clothes in my bag and I’m ready.” “Let’s get cracking. We’re burning daylight. Head ‘em up and move ‘em out.” Okay, she liked old westerns. She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. ***** Michael shot her a mock salute and headed to his room. Despite his initial misgivings, he had to admit she had a point. Bettis would be so busy looking for her in Bastille he’d never think she’d leave town. He wouldn’t be lowering his guard, but he did appreciate the breathing room their little jaunt would give them. The fact she was willing to go out of her way to help him, surprised him. After the cold shoulder he’d got from her all night, it was the last thing he’d expected from her. Then again, Michael had stopped trying to figure her out about two days ago. Ever since she’d re-entered his life, Michael had been in a constant state of confusion. It wasn’t like him. Usually, he knew where he stood in life and with women. Janis blew his feeling of confidence completely out of the water. The longer he was with her the
J. Morgan
51
more he wanted to be with her. Michael wished he could lie to himself and say it wasn’t true, but it was. Janis completed something in him. A sad self-destructive streak, if he had to hazard a guess. Just by looking at her, he knew he didn’t have a chance in hell with her. The close call in the bathroom didn’t count. The weirdness factor alone made him want to forget it ever happened. From the way she acted, Janis felt the same way. He should just be glad she was willing to go so far as to help him out with the gallery thing. He stared at the pile of clothes and essentials he’d managed to toss on the bed during his woolgathering. They were only going to be gone for a couple of days at the most, but wanted to make sure he had everything he needed. He hoped he could convince her to postpone coming back until Bettis was caught. Running down his list, he figured he had everything. The portfolio was leaning against the wall beside the door, so that was out of the way. He chucked his travel bag with deodorant and toothpaste into the duffle along with his electric razor. Something was missing but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Then he saw his pistol sitting on the bedside table, where he had left it the day before. She might not like it, but the nine mm was going with them. He didn’t know how she’d react to having it along, but he sure as hell wasn’t going without it. She didn’t need to know he was packing. It was his experience women and guns didn’t mix, so he by keeping the information to himself, he was saving himself the hassle of bringing it to her attention. Glancing around for one last look, Michael zipped his duffle bag shut. Whatever else, this trip was going to be interesting. Janis wasn’t going to have the house to hide in now. For the next four hours, they were going to be shoulder to shoulder. If this trip didn’t sound like a recipe for disaster, he didn’t know what did.
The Michelangelo Blues
52
Chapter 15 Less than an hour later, they were on the road. Despite Wallace’s earlier warning, Michael used an ATM to draw out some cash at the first gas station they came to, once they had left Bastille. Checks were okay, but Michael liked to have cash, especially when he was going to a strange place. Out of town checks were a hassle he wanted to avoid. He figured three hundred would be more than enough to see them through a couple of days. If not, the bank of Wallace appeared to be open for business. The tank fully loaded, they headed out. Michael set the cruise control a mile over the speed limit and stretched his legs. He hated long trips. By the time they made it to Ruston, his butt would be asleep. Nothing irritated him like a numb butt. “Hey, Michelangelo. I’m starving.” Janis chirped. Maybe the numb butt wasn’t so bad after all. “You just ate a Pop-tart.” “Yeah, over two hours ago. You can’t sit there and tell me you‘re not hungry. I saw the bowl of bran pooh you had for breakfast.” Janis poked him in the belly. “Stop it. Can’t you see I’m trying to drive here?” Michael slapped her hand away. “We’re still too close to Bastille to stop again.” “Then, do something to take my mind off my empty stomach.” Janis demanded. “I thought lawyers were supposed to be, hell, I don’t know! What’s the word I’m looking for?” Michael hated it, when he was trying to make a point and couldn’t think of what he was trying to say. “Not hungry,” Janis offered, playfully. “No! More grown up, than I’m bored, entertain me’.” He tried to hide the bemused look on his face, but she saw it reflected in the side window. “Look, I’m not bored. I’m hungry. There’s a difference.” She laughed. “In twenty minutes we’ll be on the other side of West Monroe. We’ll stop then, okay.’ He shifted into the other lane, as a Dodge truck tried to cut in front of them. “Watch the road buster!” Janis snapped. “I’m trying to but someone keeps bugging me about their empty stomach.” Michael said in his defense. “That’s it!” Janis exclaimed. “What’s it?” Michael looked around in confusion. “We’ll play Slug Bug.” Janis beamed, like a kid who just found out this was Christmas morning. “You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re not eight years old any more.” He laughed in disbelief. “Afraid you’re too old to spot them? Come on. How hard is it to spot a Volkswagen Beetle? They’re small. They’re brightly colored. Even someone as old as you should be able to spot one. See there’s one. Slug bug!” she yelled, slamming his arm hard enough to make him swerve slightly onto the shoulder. “You know of course this means war.” Michael said in his best German accent. Twenty minutes and seven bruises later, Michael pulled into the first restaurant with a nearly empty park lot he came to. He hadn’t wanted to risk stopping at one of the busier ones along the way. If they had been followed, he wouldn’t be able to spot a tail. He parked on the far side of the parking lot and motioned for Janis to stay in her seat. “What the hell are we sitting out here for? I can smell the food.” Janis growled only slightly louder than her rumbling stomach.
J. Morgan
53
“I’m checking to make sure we aren’t being tailed.” He scanned the parking lot for anything suspicious. He had tried to keep an eye open along the way, but someone kept beating the snot out of his arm and he’d finally gave up. “Oh.” She shut her mouth and peered out the window. Michael finally gave them the all-clear a few minutes later. “Let’s go. I think we’re safe.” The place was one of those chain steak houses with had its best days behind it, which explained why it was so empty. They had just made it through the door, when a bored looking waitress walked up to them. She silently led them toward the back of the restaurant with a lackluster wave of her hand. The room was so dark Michael could barely make out anything. The sound of rattling of pans came from the kitchen, as the waitress led them past it. The waitress stopped at a booth in the far corner of the room. She sat two menus down on the table and left them to seat themselves. Michael motioned for Janis to take one side of the booth, making sure he was seated facing the door. He may have been dumb enough to let Janis talk him into this trip, but he was still on the job. They sat in silence, looking over the tattered menus. Michael quickly settled on a steak and potato platter, while Janis announced she had decided on a grilled chicken and pasta plate. A few minutes later, the waitress returned with two glasses of water. She took their orders and sauntered toward the kitchen, if anything looking more bored than she had at the door. “Thank you.” Michael said, the silence becoming too much for him to bear. “If it’s for not going Donner Party on you, you’re welcome. If it’s for bringing me to this dump and not killing you, you had better wait until after I see how bad they can screw up grilled chicken.” Janis shot him a sly wink. “No, for giving me this chance. There aren’t many people who would go to this much trouble for a stranger, especially when they have a homicidal manic trying to kill them.” He hoped she could see he meant every word of it. “You’re not a stranger. Besides, I couldn’t deprive the world of the next Da Vinci.” Janis reached over and gave his hand a gentle pat. “I’m no Da Vinci. I know these past two days haven’t been so great for you, but…” Michael stammered. “But nothing. Having a homicidal maniac after me has put things in perspective. Michael, you deserve to have your chance at the life you want. I couldn’t take your shot away from you.” Janis squeezed his hand. The sincerity in her voice warmed him. He didn’t know what to say. Janis was the first woman he had ever met who had spoken to him like he was worth more than a tumble between the sheets. All the others were more concerned with what he could do for them, or to them. Janis made him feel like he was a real person, someone who mattered. He felt her hand brush across his tenderly. Michael wished he could bottle this moment. For way too long, he’d been alone. Being here with her, made all the loneliness seemingly disappear. Trying to convince himself it could go on would only make it worse, when it all came to an end. Nothing he did would change the fact in a few days at the most Janis would be gone. He needed to stop fooling himself. “I hope I can live up to your expectations,” he said, noticing he had been staring at her.
The Michelangelo Blues
54
“You damn well better! I’d hate to think I was risking my butt for nothing, Michelangelo.” Janis shot him a stern glare. “How long are you going to call me that?” Michael laughed. “Until you paint my ceiling.” Janis giggled. The waitress returned with their food, giving them a strange look. She set their plates down and hustled off. The sight of the mumbling woman stalking off made them crack up even more. “We had better cut it out before she calls the men in white coats.” Michael gasped between fading chuckles. “Don’t change the subject. Loony bin or not, you’re still painting my ceiling,” Janis answered back. “And what would the madam wish to grace the ceiling of her boudoir?” Michael snickered. “Uh, can I get back to you one that.” She gave him a nervous look. “Sure it’s not like I can do it anytime soon.” He grinned, noticing the edge to her voice. “I need to use the bathroom.” She said suddenly rising from the table. “Okay, I haven’t seen anyone come in since we have but be careful.” He warned, giving the entrance a cursory glance. She grunted and took off for the bathroom, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened. ***** Janis couldn’t get away from the table quick enough. His smile still haunted her, as she slammed through the bathroom door. Why did he have to be so charming? Being with him was becoming so natural and easy. She couldn’t explain why but the thought scared her more than Bettis ever could The mirror over the stained marble sink mocked her with the haggard reflection staring back. She could barely recognize the woman looking back at her. Two days ago she had been on top of the world. The partnership was just sinking in and everything was finally clicking into place. Now look at her. She was on the run from a crazy man who wanted to kill her. Worse than that, she was hiding in a run down steak house’s bathroom because the man of her high school dreams was starting to make her feel all fuzzy and warm. Suddenly, it hit her. She was falling in love with him. Fear shot straight through her veins, and froze her straight through to the heart. She could explain away groping on a bathroom floor, as a momentary lapse of reason. Thinking about the L word was totally uncalled for, not to mention stupid. Michael was used to charming anything in a skirt. It was second nature for him to act like this around women. She had to remember he was a man used to getting what he wanted from women. Men like Michael did not fall in love. They fell into bed and ran like hell, come morning. Did she want to become one of those women watching him dash out the door? As much as she wanted to think different, all she’d be to him was a one night stand. It took her a second to notice that the reflection had tears running down her face. Why did he have to come back into her life? She had to get her shit together. Losing it wasn’t going to help a damn thing. If she didn’t want to become a basket case, she had to realize her and Michael weren’t meant to be. She checked the mirror one more time. A quick dab here and there and the record of
J. Morgan
55
her breakdown were all but erased. She hadn’t bothered with make-up so no raccoon eyes to worry about. The dining room was dark enough she doubted he’d notice the redness in her eyes or the puffy cheeks. Now that the outside was taken care of she could lock down the rest of her. Long ago she had learned to shut down her emotional side. It was one of the keys to being a good lawyer. Emotions got in the way of doing the job. She just had to think of this like a job. Michael was her bodyguard. This was a business arrangement. He worked for her boss, which made him an employee. If she could think along those lines, she could get through this without embarrassing herself. As she walked back to the table, she had almost convinced herself to believe the lie. Sitting down, the steaming plate of chicken caught her attention, momentarily distracting her from her thoughts. The smell of roasted chicken set her stomach to rumbling but she found she wasn’t all that hungry any more. “You better eat up. We need to get back on the road.” Michael remarked, giving her a worried look. Janis started eating, trying to ignore his questioning eyes, and the ache in her stomach. She wished she could blame hunger for the burning sensation. For all her soulsearching in the bathroom she knew the truth. Against her own better judgment she had fallen in love with him and nothing could change it. She had only herself to blame. All the big talk in the world wasn’t going to save her from the heartbreak when this was all over.
The Michelangelo Blues
56
Chapter 16 After leaving the restaurant, Michael hoped he would be able to draw her back into conversation. During dinner everything had seemed to be going good then after returning from the bathroom she’d clammed up. She wasn’t exactly sullen but she wasn’t far from it. He’d dismissed it as hunger. Once they got back to the car, he’d expected her to go back to her usual Slug Bugging self. He couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as they got back to the car, Janis all but ignored him. For the next twenty miles, Michael tried to think of something, anything he might have said to make her so upset with him. He couldn’t come up with one reason why she wouldn’t talk to him. She was treating him like he was a leper. Usually the cause was glaring and he could easily see it. Not this time. He had already come to the conclusion women were confusing at the best of times and Janis was confusing all the time. The best thing to do was to wait and let her make the first move. Until she came to grips with whatever was bothering her they both were in for a rough time. Michael saw the exit sign for Grambling and turned onto the off-ramp. He was growing tired of getting the cold shoulder from Janis. If he had to get out of this car for a few minutes, he was going to go crazy. He couldn’t believe she thought pretending to be asleep would fool him. He had bent over backwards to protect her and quite frankly this hot and cold treatment was getting a little old. He pulled into the first convenience store he saw. The gas needle read a little under full, but he might as well top the tank off while he had a chance. The way traffic was backing up he didn’t want to risk running out somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Walking down the highway with Janis in the mood she was in was not his idea of an idyllic afternoon stroll. Besides, he still had to find a place for them to stay while they were in Shreveport. A hotel would work, but they would have to get two rooms. Michael was still leery of Bettis showing up. He didn’t want to let Janis out of his sight and risk it happening. Acting as she was, one hotel room was not a subject he cared to broach. Walking into the store, he remembered Ellen, a friend he had made years before on the art house circuit, was now living in Shreveport. It was a long shot, but she could be just the ticket. They were old friends, so she might be willing to put them up for a couple of days for old times’ sake. He grabbed some drinks and a fair amount of junk food on his way to the cashier. He wasn’t hungry but didn’t want to incur Janis’s wrath if she woke up with an urge to munch. The girl behind the counter took his money, not even giving him a second glance. He exited the store and moved over to the corner of the building, so he could call Ellen without letting Janis of out his sight. He waited patiently for her to pick up. After half a dozen rings, he heard her voice on the other end. He hastily explained the situation to her. Unfortunately, she was leaving for Houston for the rest of the week. After some catching up she offered to let them to stay anyway on the understanding if he messed anything up, he was dead meat. She and Michael had been close once, not lovers, but close. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t tried to work his usual charm, but she knew a bullshit artist when she saw one. He was a slow country boy, so it took him a while to figure out why she didn’t respond to his obvious charm. Despite their differences, their friendship had worked out for the best for
J. Morgan
57
both of them. Artists were a cutthroat bunch at the best of times. It was good to have someone to throw ideas at and not have to worry about them taking digs at your work or more importantly, stealing your concepts. The fact she was a sculptor and he was a painter hadn’t hurt, either. Before saying a hurried ciao, Ellen explained she had to be heading out, so she would be gone before they made it into town, but promised to leave the key with her neighbor. Ellen described her as a nosy old woman, but reliable. She added there was plenty of food in the fridge so feel free to chow down. None of it would be good by the time she got back the next week. God love her. The starving artist cliché wasn’t far from the truth. Both of them had spent many a night, eating ramen noodles and little else, so the offer was a typical Ellen jab at the good old days. Armed with a plan, Michael felt a little better. He slipped a Slim Jim between his teeth and walked back to the car. Another hour or so, and they’d be in Shreveport. He was almost ready to believe he was in a good mood when he slid behind the wheel. He set the two drinks in the console and pulled away. “So, who were you talking to?” Janis asked, rolling over to give him a grumpy face. “Just checking in.” He didn’t know why he lied. Something in the look she gave him made him defensive. The last thing he wanted was another fight. Too many miles for him lay ahead of them to stir up even more animosity. “How much longer until we reach Shreveport? My butt is going to sleep.” Janis grumbled, twitching from side to side in her seat. “Another hour and a half depending on traffic. You should have gotten out at the store, if you were getting uncomfortable.” He cringed at the look she shot him. “I was asleep,” she said curtly. “I got you something to drink and there’s some snacks in the bag.” He pointed to the dash. “Not hungry, but thanks,” she mumbled, turning her head back to the window. “It’s back there, if you want it.” Michael shrugged. For the first time all afternoon he was grateful she had gone back to ignoring him. He needed time to think. Something had upset her at the restaurant. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what had caused her to go all psycho, but he damn well wished he knew what it was. Michael took a sideways glance to find she was pretending sleep again. He hoped this time she would go to sleep. Maybe by the time they got to Ellen’s place, she would be in a better frame of mind, but somehow he doubted it.
The Michelangelo Blues
58
Chapter 17 They reached Shreveport in the middle of rush hour. Every lane was packed wall to wall with an endless stream of creeping cars. They inched along for the better part of thirty minutes before Michael spotted the exit sign they needed. He swung the car in front of a Sunfire and hit the off ramp. Michael was glad to see the traffic finally seeming to slack off. The directions blurred in his head and he strained to read fading street signs in the pre-dusk gloom. He angled the car through side road after side road until he finally sighted the street name Ellen had given him as hers and turned onto it with a sigh of relief. He was deadly tired. All he wanted was a bath, and a forty-hour nap. He turned to tell Janis they were there. Her head was cradled against the window. The slow steady rhythm of her chest told him she had finally stopped pretending to be asleep. He reached over and gently shook her. She rolled over, mumbling in her sleep. Michael smiled and flicked a stray hair from her placid face. In a couple of minutes he would have to wake her, but for now he decided to enjoy watching her without her mouth getting in the way. He chuckled at his private joke. The sound caused her to shift in her sleep. She raised one languid eyelid and glared at him, which caused him to laugh harder. “Got a problem Dumont?” Janis snarled then raised her head to take a look out the window. “No, ma’am.” Michael hastily answered, sure that the last thing he wanted to face was her wrath, not when they were this close to where they were headed. A long night of sullen looks and terse rebuttals was not his idea of a pleasant evening in a strange town. The ride here had been bad enough. “So, where are we?” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. “Shreveport. A friend of mine is letting us use her loft while we’re in town.” Michael turned the car into the narrow drive running parallel to Ellen’s house. “I didn’t know you were bringing us here to shack up with an old girlfriend.” Janis grumbled. Michael decided not to respond to her remark. He didn’t feel like fighting with her. The long drive had worn him out. He just wanted to get into Ellen’s place and try to get some rest before his interview tomorrow. **** Janis took his silence as an admission of guilt. She shouldn’t be angry, but she was. The idea of staying with a woman Michael had been romantic with did not sit well with her for some reason. In fact it made her more than a little jealous. The whole thing was stupid because she had already decided they had no future together, so there was no reason for her to feel the slightest bit of envy over an old flame or whatever this woman had been. She had no claim on him and he had none on her. Still, the idea of him with another woman made her see red. What was happening to her? She had only spent two days with the man and she was losing her grip. She had been around men before and nothing like this had happened. Janis prided herself on her self-control. Now, Michael Dumont was making her turn all limp-kneed and stalker bitch about him. She should have never admitted to herself about feeling the L word.
J. Morgan
59
Janis was so caught up in thought she didn’t even hear Michael getting out of the car. It wasn’t until she heard him slam the door that she realized she was sitting alone in a strange place. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she rushed to open the door. There was no way he was leaving her here by herself. She looked around for Michael and found him shutting the trunk with their bags in hand. Janis tried not to notice the way his biceps flexed tight against the short sleeves of his shirt or the way the fabric clung to the hard flesh of his chest and abdomen like a second skin. Her stomach rolled, as the image of those arms surrounding her filled her mind. She could almost feel their warm weight against her body. Michael stopped beside her, the heavy bags dangling from his clinched hands. Janis tried to shake the vision of him from her mind. She didn’t even want to know how flushed her face must look. Knowing how hot her body felt was bad enough, without knowing he saw it written like a neon sign saying ‘Attention, hot and bothered below!’ on her forehead. “I need to get the key from the next door neighbor. Will you be all right here by yourself, till I get back?” The concern in his voice broke the spell. She was really going to have to stop this daydreaming. “Sure. Go ahead.” Janis mumbled, struggling to clear her lust-fogged brain. The minute he was out of sight uneasiness settled over her. Without Michael here, she felt alone and unprotected. Her gaze fell on the empty street. What if Bettis had followed them? Janis crept closer to the car door, ready to jump in if her suspicions proved to be true. The street stayed empty with not even a stray dog to mar the cracked asphalt. It suddenly struck her how safe she had begun to feel with Michael. Janis learned long ago not to depend on anyone but herself. If she wanted to go all psycho-babble, she could trace it back to her father leaving her and her mother high and dry, when she was five, but she didn’t go in for that kind of crap. In the end it all came down to one thing. She depended on herself, because she had to. Growing up, she had no other choice. Her mother had worked two jobs, to put food was on the table and clothes were on her back. Everything else fell squarely on her shoulders. She learned early if you couldn’t do for yourself, you starved or did without. She liked to eat too much to do without. Being with Michael, made her think maybe it was alright to let someone else shoulder the burden of responsibility for her life. Giving away control to someone else scared her. She knew when this was over, he’d go back to his life, leaving her to hers. Janis knew this was the way the real world worked. Gorgeous men like Michael didn’t fall for women like her. They liked to have fawning does and beauty queens around them. She was patently neither. She was too opinionated to fall into the damsel in distress trap. As much as she wanted him, she knew it would be a mistake. If he was on her mind without sleeping with him, what would it be like if she allowed herself to give in to her urges? She would end up as nothing more than another notch on his bedpost. Janis couldn’t bear the thought being nothing more than a footnote in bedside memoirs. Then, what did she want? Janis wasn’t about to let her earlier admission, she was falling hopelessly in love with him, change anything. She wasn’t going to allow him to get any closer to her heart. It was safe to explain it was her teenage crush coming back to haunt her. If a crush was indeed the case, then she could go on with her life, because schoolgirl crushes were just that- crushes. Those sorts of feelings never went anywhere, no matter what John Hughes tried to tell you. She wasn’t Molly Ringwald and Michael wasn’t the hunky Michael
The Michelangelo Blues
60
Schoeffling, same first name notwithstanding. She should just admit it now and get ready to go on with her life. When this was over, she’d be alone again. Maybe later after her career had settled into the place she wanted it to, she would marry a perfectly normal man and live her life in dull monotony. The words reverberated in her head like a death knell. “Got the key.“ Michael rounded the corner of the house, waving a heavy key chain. Janis didn’t even glance up. She had made her mind up. The picture she’d painted for her future had gotten her to thinking. For once in her life she wasn’t going to settle for perfectly normal. She might regret it in the morning, but if her life was going to end with dull and normal, she was going to have one night of excitement before the monotony set in. Then, she could get him out of her head and put him safely where he belonged. Somewhere else.
61
J. Morgan
Chapter 18 Michael couldn’t help but notice the change in Janis’s attitude toward him. She was almost playful, as they walked up the set of exterior stairs leading to Ellen’s apartment. He caught her giving him strange looks, when she didn’t think he was watching. He’d seen the look in her eyes before and it made him extremely nervous. He felt just like the mouse right before the cat pounced. He chalked it up to the nap on the drive down. He was being overly paranoid. Janis was just in a good mood. In the end, he decided to go with the flow. He knew her well enough by now to know the mood wouldn’t last. It was the mood after this one that had him nervous. He soon found out Ellen’s second floor apartment was in fact the entire second floor. His place was nothing to sneeze at, but he wished he had a place like this. He had inherited his house from his grandmother, so he couldn’t gripe. His friend paid rent, his was free. He definitely had the better deal. Ellen wasn’t doing all that bad, though. Over the phone she had told him she was working under a government grant, so was able to afford to live big. Unlike him, she didn’t even have the added hassle of keeping a regular job to keep herself in the black. As long as the grant held out, she was fine. With her talent, when the money ran out, she should be pretty much set. He, on the other hand, had property taxes looming on the horizon and any other number of things ready to rapidly deplete his already meager bank account. He fumbled with the keys, while trying to juggle their bags on the narrow landing. Janis took pity on him and took the keys before he could dump everything over the railing. Within seconds, she had the door unlocked. She gave him a sly wink and walked on in, leaving him to play bellboy. The apartment was a one-room loft covering the length of the house. The only other room was a bathroom set off to the far corner. The space itself was filled with massive blank canvases, and easels holding half-finished works. Michael was amused to note Ellen had obviously taken an interest in painting since the last time they’d gotten together. He had to admit she was good. A few pieces of sculpture were scuttled together on the left side of the apartment, a holdover from the good old days. Michael recognized them, as some he’d seen her working on years before. He admired them for a second before dropping the bags on the ratty old couch he, too, remembered with fondness. Ellen had pushed a king-sized bed against the back of the couch. He wanted to laugh. The trick was just like her. She was always too lazy to get off the couch to go to bed. He guessed she had solved the problem. “Nice place your girlfriend has.” Janis whispered in his ear, startling him. “Ellen isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.” Michael said, feeling an uncontrollable need to defend himself. “So, she’s an old girlfriend.” Janis smirked. Michael sighed to himself. So much for the nice Janis. “Janis, contrary to what you might think, I do not sleep with every woman I meet.” He was really getting tired of this. Why should he have to defend himself to her? More importantly, why did he feel the need to? “Just most of them.” Janis countered with her own private touché.
The Michelangelo Blues
62
“All right, I’ve slept around. You got me. The last time I looked, sleeping around while morally reprehensible wasn’t a crime, counselor.” Michael whipped around and stormed toward the makeshift kitchen. ***** Watching his shoulders slump, Janis mentally kicked herself. This was not what she wanted to happen. Something about Michael made her want to lash out. She had to admit to herself, he wasn’t what making her do it. It was all the women in his past driving her crazy. She was crazy. All you had to do was look at him to know he was a decent man. Look at how he went out of his way to protect her. True, Wallace was paying him, but somehow she knew Michael would have done it without the paycheck being attached. Then, why was she giving him such a hard time? Janis watched him rummage around in the refrigerator. She could see the tension rolling off his broad shoulders. This wasn’t fair to him. She wasn’t being fair to him. Outside she had been all ready to jump his bones, but she wasn’t ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. She was letting old grievances get in the way of her less than good judgment. High school had been a long time ago, and his past dalliances were just that, in the past. Fifteen minutes ago she was seriously considering just such a dalliance, herself. Her holier-than-thou attitude was hypocritical. It was high time she realized it. “Michael.” Her voice was almost a whisper, as she called out to him. He looked up from the refrigerator, but said nothing. “Michael, I’m sorry. There was no call for me to badger you like a murder suspect. Hell, I don’t even know why I said anything. If you say this Ellen is just a friend, I believe you.” Janis brushed her hair out of her face, looking sheepishly at the floor. “Is this some trick? Because if it is. I’m getting tired of playing these silly games with you.” His voice had an iron edge making Janis back up a step. “No trick. Look, my hang-ups are my own problem. I shouldn’t be taking them out on you.” This time she faced him while she spoke. “What kind of hang-ups?” “Do we really have to go into this?” Janis shied away from the kitchen, moving toward the couch. “I think we should.” Michael smirked and took another step toward her. “After two days of fighting, I think we need to clear up this hostility between us.” “There is no hostility between us!” Janis exclaimed nervously. “You say so now, but a few minutes ago you were ready to hand me my heart on a platter over someone you never even met. Why is that?” The question paralyzed her. Janis was not ready to voice out loud the feelings boiling under the surface of her breaking calm exterior. She knew if she opened her mouth to speak everyone of her secrets would come shooting out. “Come on, Miss Stockwell, tell me your secrets. You already know mine. Fair is fair.” Michael’s voice broke through the haze. His face was just inches away from hers. Janis couldn’t breathe. He was so close the sweet taste of his breath on her face held her rooted in place. The heat of his body washed over her. Her body quickened. She could see desire written all over his face. Janis ached for him to reach out and take her in his arms. She wanted to feel his heat first hand, as it coursed through her skin to warm the emptiness she never even knew was there until Michael had come back into her life. She leaned forward, ready to accept him; forever, for this one night, for whatever she
63
J. Morgan
could get. Tomorrow didn’t matter. Tonight, she wanted him. She wanted everything he had to give. When tomorrow came, she would deal with the repercussions. For once in her life, she wanted the dream she’d held locked away for so long. When he pulled away, her heart sank. No, she wouldn’t allow him to get away so easily. It was too close. She reached out and pulled his face to hers. He looked surprised and she reveled in his confusion. The rough stubble covering his cheeks scratched her hands as she pulled him closer. She didn’t stop until his lips were pressed against hers. She felt his resistance but wouldn’t let go. This is what she wanted. She wanted him. The time for her fainthearted denials was done. He tasted like heaven. The warm taste of him satisfied her to a point, but it wasn’t enough. She had to have more. Her tongue darted past his lips. His surprise left behind, he welcomed her with his own hot tongue. Her mind swam with the pent-up emotions she could no longer contain. Then, the moment slipped away. Michael pulled back. His breath came out in short ragged gasps. “Janis?” “Don’t leave me,” she gasped, her heart thumping in her quivering chest. “This is wrong. You don’t want this.” His voice was a harsh gasp for breath. “You’re wrong. I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you for the first time back in high school. You wanted to know my secrets. Well, here it is. I know this is nothing more than a one-night stand to you. I can accept it. I’m not a foolish girl any more.” Her hand tenderly stroked his cheek, sending him staggering to his knees. ***** He nearly lost it right there. Michael was smart enough to realize his feelings for Janis went beyond casual lust, though the emotion was there too. Waiting for her to answer, his pants strained to contain the evidence of his lust. The sound of her revelation only inflamed him more. In fact, it floored him. All this time, he thought it was just him feeling this way. How could he have missed it? Thinking back, it all fit, the strange looks, the bathroom, and the kiss all pointed to one undeniable fact. She wanted him. His heart leapt in his chest. Then, why hold back? Why not give in to what they both wanted? Michael was no fool. His reputation was the reason why she was so hesitant to say anything. His years of playing the field were coming back to bite him in the ass. Regret over the fact filled him. If he could change the past, he would. More than anything he wanted to tell her she could never be a one night stand to him. Michael knew a single taste of her would make him want more. How could he tell her that? She already had him pegged. To try and tell her any different would be futile. Tonight might be heaven, but what would tomorrow be like, when she woke up and the reality of what they had done sunk in? She would hate him or worse herself. Her hand dropped to his fly, driving the doubts from his mind. His eyes rolled back, as her hand slipped between the slender gap between the top of his jeans and his burning flesh. In that second he knew it didn’t matter. She would be his, and he would be hers.
The Michelangelo Blues
64
Chapter 19 “Not on the couch.” Michael got out between frantic gasps for air. “Why not?” Janis growled, deftly unfastening his jeans. The look she gave him all but drove the objection from his mind. “Ellen would kill me if I defiled her couch.” He smiled weakly. “The bed?” she asked in disbelief. What man worried about furniture during sex? “Ah, better not. Ellen has a thing about clean sheets.” “Michael, this is kind of killing the mood. Couldn’t we just use an air-freshener on them after, you know?” Janis tilted her head toward the bed. She fluttered her lashes, hitting him with her best come-hither look. She was all set to say to hell with it and take him right here in spite of Ellen and her damn furniture fetish when Michael leapt away from her, tossing her over the arm of the couch. “Wait right here!” She couldn’t believe it. He was running toward the rolls of canvases lying stacked against the wall. It got even weirder when he grabbed on and flipped the roll across the floor. With the canvas splashed across the floor she watched as he dropped to his knees and spread it out until it covered about a six by twelve foot portion of the floor. He was still patting it flat when she walked up behind him. If this was a romance novel, she could call herself wicked or a hundred different things all adding up to the same thing—horny as hell. Janis smiled as his unbuttoned jeans slid down to reveal his perfect behind, as it bobbed up and down. If she was going to do this, she might as well go all the way. She bit her lips. The idea was crazy, but this was a night for craziness. Never in a million years would she have imagined herself in a situation like this. Why not act a little crazy? You only live once. Janis quickly shucked her shirt and unsnapped her bra. The whole thing took less than ten seconds. She looked up to make sure than Michael wasn’t looking. He was still smoothing out his makeshift bed. Then, she went to work on her pants. They became a pile on the floor just as quickly as her shirt had. She had to smile at her at her boldness. It was definitely going to be a first for her. If tonight was going to be the only chance with Michael, it was damn well going to be something he would never forget. “Michael.” Janis lowered her voice to the seductive range only a woman in need can manage, when she doesn’t care, if she sounded slutty or not. ***** Michael looked up. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. Janis stood totally revealed in all her glory in front of him. How had he missed that? The sight of her was something he would never erase from his mind. Janis looked like a goddess come to earth from one of the paintings he had spent his life trying to emulate. She was perfection pure and simple. All she needed was a clam shell and she would have been the Venus come to life. Her auburn hair flowed across her bare shoulders and tickled the gentle swell of her breasts. Her hand stroked the curve of her waist. His hungry eyes followed it down the sweep of her hip. He was too mesmerized to move, let alone drag his eyes away from her. This was a woman he would never tire of seeing or holding.
J. Morgan
65
His mouth went dry, as she walked slowly toward him. Her smooth flesh burned itself into his mind with each step she took. By the time she drew up in front of him, he was trembling with a lust that all but consumed him. She bent down and drew his face up to hers. “Michael, paint me.” Her voice demanded, lower than a whisper. The touch of her breath on his face sent gooseflesh running down his arms. It was unbelievable so innocuous a statement could send his brain into a tailspin. He had been around beautiful women since he hit puberty and none of them sent his head to reeling like this woman did with one sentence. He scrambled to his feet to reach for a canvas. Her hand fell over his before he could get to his feet. “Not like that. Like this.” She picked up a jar of paint from a nearby table. He watched as her fingers fumbled to twist the lid off. After a little work, it at last came free. The smell of wet paint did little to hide the scent of his expectation. This one moment in time defined how he wanted to spend the rest of his life, with her. She looked directly into his eyes taking his hand in hers. She dipped his trembling fingers into the crimson paint. The sound of his breathing drowned out everything in the quiet room. In fact, nothing existed in the room to him except the warmth of her hand clutching his. She held it firmly and guided it to her waiting breast. His brain went blank as the fullness of it filled his hand. His next breath caught in his throat. She was totally in control, because for the first time in his adult life he had no idea what to do next. ***** Janis guided his paint-soaked fingers to her swollen nipple. The gentle caress shot jolts of electricity to every on of her nerve endings, nearly sending her crashing to the floor. She bit her lip at the sensations rolling through her at his touch. Janis helped him trace the outline of her areola before taking his hand to her other breast to repeat the strokes over again. Then, it was her turn to go breathless. Pulling his hand from her control he gently kneaded her paint-smeared breast between his strong fingers. Her hand fell away from his and her core shuddered from the urgency of his touch. She fell to her knees and took his face into her hands. She dropped her mouth over his and devoured it. His hand roamed over her, exploring every inch of her burning flesh. His fingers danced, as he continued to paint the outline of her breasts before curling down to her taut stomach. He wound his way to her hips then traced the contour of her thighs. She gathered handfuls of his hair, as his nimble fingers massaged the muscles of her parted legs. They darted toward the crease of her thigh and she lost all control. The heat of his fingers flicking her erect clit claimed every ounce of her will. His name exploded from her lips when his fingers delved into her, driving away the last of shred of hesitation she felt. Janis couldn’t take it, for a second longer. She had to have him. She pushed him back onto the canvas. He had his turn. Now she wanted to touch him, to do all those things she had dreamed of doing to him since the tenth grade. “I think it’s my turn to be the artist.” She laughed her voice husky and low. Not giving him a chance to answer, she wrapped her fingers in his shirt and pulled it over his head. However, she painted him with her mouth, her tongue a hot wet paintbrush. First his neck, then she traced the corded muscles of his neck to his sculptured pecs, pausing to suck each hard nipple in turn. She smiled when he let out a groan. His legs buckled under her.
The Michelangelo Blues
66
The heated length of his shaft pressed against her leg. She looked into eyes darkened with passion. His lips quivered in time with the flicking of her tongue. Janis darted up and kissed him, his mouth was so hot it burned to the touch. His eyes begged for release, but she wasn’t through yet. As she nibbled his chin, Janis reached down and took his cock into her hand. Her thumb rolled over its swollen head before sliding down the length of him. He was so tight with need she could feel every beat of his heart through the stretched skin. Janis wanted nothing more than to taste him, but knew she couldn’t wait any longer to feel him inside of her. From the look on his face, if she even tried it, she would have a long wait until she would have that pleasure and she was in no mood to wait. Janis placed her fingers over his quivering lips. He kissed them, taking them into his mouth. His warmth flowed over her, nearly sending her over the edge. She couldn’t wait a moment longer. She had to have him inside her, all of him. Janis eased back until she felt the tip of him pressing against her cleft. She sat astride his hips and his thick cock slid deep inside, filling her perfectly. It was like he belonged inside her. Against everything she may have thought, he completed the lost part of her that she had so long denied. She wished this would never end. She tried not to think about this being anything more than a one-night stand. Tomorrow, they would go back to their lives. For this brief moment in time she possessed Michael. He was hers. As much as she wanted to accept the finality of the act, a part of her couldn’t. One night with him would never be enough, but it was all she had. She was going to make the most of it and let the consequences be damned! Janis rocked back. He rose to meet her, his throbbing shaft thrusting deep. Time ceased to exist. Seconds were counted in hurried strokes. His fingers twirled her aching clit, as he drove himself into her again and again. She screamed out his name, as his mouth claimed one of her taut nipples. His teeth grazed it mercilessly in his ardor to possess, devour. Her hands fell to his chest as waves of ecstasy made her inner muscles clench. She felt him explode within her. Seconds later her own climax washed over his. Janis dropped her head until it lay cradled in the crook of his sweat-soaked arm. She could still feel him inside her. She tightened her muscles. She didn’t want to let him go. This had been everything she imagined and more. She snuggled into him. His arms closed around her. Janis didn’t want to look up into his face. The reality of their situation would set in, especially, if she saw it written on his face. Her fingers played across his chest. As sleep claimed her, she wondered what it would be like to fall asleep in Michael’s arms every night, and to wake up with his body nestled against her. The thought brought tears running down her face. She knew this was going to happen- the tears, the regret but none of it mattered. She had her moment with Michael. Sobs ripped through her and she knew the lie was not enough to make her feel any better. How could she go back to her normal life after knowing perfection? Even if it was just a brief taste, she knew nothing in her life would ever match this moment.
67
J. Morgan
Chapter 20 Michael couldn’t help himself. He’d been unable to stop watching her all night. He’d been afraid to go to sleep. A part of him believed if he did, none of last night would be real. As crazy as it sounded, Michael couldn’t shake the idea any minute he’d wake up and this would have all been a dream. Even when sleep snuck up on him it hadn’t been restful. He had tossed and turned until finally, he just gave up. He’d been awake for over two hours and he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from her the entire time. During the night, she had curled herself in the canvas like a human burrito. One leg escaped the confines of her makeshift blanket and lay shimmering in the morning sun. It took everything he had not to wake her and take her again. To be truthful, it had been Janis who had done the taking. He had never had an experience quite so earth-shattering in his life. All night he lain awake listening to wind song like cadence of her breathing. He wanted to hold her for the rest of his life. Nothing would make him happier than to do just spend forever with her, but he knew it was not to be. Janis deserved better than to have a man like him in her life. He would always be a question on her mind. His reputation preceded him after all. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. Staying with him would do just end up destroying them both. How could she ever trust a man who spent his entire adult life jumping from bed to bed without ever trying to commit to anything more than casual sex? Janis changed something inside of him. For the first time in his life he wanted something more than meaningless relationships. More than anything, Michael wanted to be the kind of man she needed, the kind of man she wanted. If only he could make her see what she had done to him? He had to wonder, if he should he even try to change her mind. Janis had her future planned out. She didn’t need a bum like him dragging her down. Maybe, if this art show worked out, he could offer her something more. The show was a long way off and he couldn’t hinge a relationship on a maybe. Why was he even thinking about it? He had been through all this before. Michael dropped his eyes to his watch. His meeting was in little over an hour. A muffled snore broke the silence. Janis rolled over in her sleep, still clutching the canvas around her body. He had to get a move on or he was going to be late. Janis looked so peaceful he didn’t have the heart to wake her. It was probably a bad idea, but he was going to let her sleep. She should be safe enough here alone until he got back. If Bettis had followed them, he would have tried something during the night. His meeting would take less than an hour and half at the most. If he was lucky, she more than likely wouldn’t wake up until after he got back. He would leave her a note just in case. He hastily dressed, being as quiet as possible. His gaze kept returning to Janis. Her hair was sprayed playfully across her face. Even under the thick canvas, he could make out the curve of her body. He fought to keep himself in check, but it was hard, as well as other things he thought he had long ago gained control of. He grabbed a piece of paper from a notebook by the phone and wrote out the note explaining where he was, should she wake. He kneeled down and kissed her gently on the forehead. She moaned and smiled, even though sleep still held her. He ran his hand through her hair. Her face snuggled into it and she lightly kissed his palm. Her eyes flickered open but closed just as quick.
The Michelangelo Blues
68
“Janis, I love you,” Michael whispered in a voice so low even he couldn’t hear it, except in his mind. He rose to his feet before he changed his mind and joined her. He went to the door, not even daring to look back. He shut the door behind him, as silently as he could. After checking the lock and deadbolt twice, Michael was satisfied she was safely locked in. Getting into the car, he knew this was going to be the longest hour and a half of his life. When he got back, he would have Janis to himself for a little while longer, before they had to go back to the real world. Sitting behind the wheel, Michael knew he would be lying to himself, if he thought it would be enough. He suddenly realized the rest of his life wouldn’t be enough time to spend with her. ***** Janis woke to sun streaming over her. She yawned and stretched her arms free of the paint-splattered canvas covering her. Her body was still alive with the sensations of the night before. Strangely, she felt none of the regret she thought she would. Last night had been fabulous. It had been everything she had dreamed it would be, and more. She knew this feeling wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, reality would set in and she would have to face the hard truth, whatever it was. Last night she had been so sure about how she would feel. By the light of a new day, she wasn’t sure of anything. Going into it, Janis knew what they had together last night was a one-time thing. In the heat of the moment she could accept it. Laying here with the faint scent of him permeating the air, she wanted to go back to sleep and dream he would always be beside her in the morning. Janis closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her mind. The images of his warm body nestled against her swarmed into her brain. She could almost feel the weight of him pressing into the small of her back. Janis snuggled back into the empty air and reality came crashing in on her. If only it could be more than a dream. But, it would never happen. The only thing to do was get up, and face the hard, cold truth she was seriously in danger of denying. A one night stand did not end in happily ever after. Janis reluctantly opened her eyes. She blinked, as the sun hit her full in the face. It took her a minute to realize it must be nearly noon, if not later. She must have overslept. Where was Michael? He should have gotten her up by now. What if he overslept too? She jumped up, wrapping the canvas around her like a sarong and went to look for him. Janis ran through the loft, frantic to find some trace of him. Even the bathroom was empty. It didn’t take her long to find she was alone in the apartment. If he wasn’t in the apartment, maybe he was outside with the car. Pulling back the curtains, she saw the driveway was empty. He had left her. She walked back to the dining table and fell into the first chair she came to. Janis just couldn’t accept Michael would leave her all alone without a note or something to say where he had gone. She thought she knew him better than that. After last night, Janis hoped perhaps she might mean more to him than this, but she guessed old habits died hard. She had to face the fact she was nothing more than a one night stand to him. He got from her what he wanted and he was out the door as quick as his feet would carry him. Why should she be surprised? He was a man after all. Janis had fooled herself into thinking he was different. Hell, she hadn’t even worried about protection. She didn’t even want to think about
J. Morgan
69
the implications of that slice of stupidity. She had let herself be lulled into throwing away everything bit of common sense she had because of a foolish infatuation. The thought barely left her brain, when she spotted a folded piece of paper with her name written on it. She picked it up, turning it over in her hand. It was probably the big blow-off. He didn’t even have the guts to tell her so long to her face. This was rich. Here she was the big time lawyer jumping to conclusions. In the courtroom she believed client was innocent until the system proved him guilty. Yet, she was all ready to indict Michael without a bit of evidence except her own fevered imagination. Where was the benefit of the doubt? Janis reached over and grabbed the note. His sweeping handwriting proclaimed her name across the top of the folded piece of yellow paper. Choking back more than a little regret at her earlier nasty thoughts, Janis flipped the note open and started to read. Dear Janis, You looked so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I know I should have but you can yell at me later. Okay? Try not to worry about Bettis. I don’t think he followed us, but keep the door locked and dead bolted just in case. I shouldn’t be gone for too long. I’ll be back in about a couple of hours at the most. As soon as I get back, we’ll go out and get something to eat or go over to the boat and let the good times roll to celebrate. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back, as soon as I can. Love, Michael P.S. Don’t forget to call Wallace and let him know we’re alive before he wets himself. Janis’s vision blurred with tears as she folded the letter. He hadn’t walked out on her. She tried not to read too much into his letter, but… She stopped herself. But what? Last night was so fantastic he can’t wait to get back. Yeah, get real. And what did celebrate mean? Celebrate what, the fact they went at it like rabid chipmunks or the fact he was getting to have his art show? No, she couldn’t think about anything in the frame of mind she was in. Last night was a one-time thing. If it was true and he was truly out of her system, why couldn’t she stop wanting him?
The Michelangelo Blues
70
Chapter 21 Janis decided to follow Michael’s advice and not worry. If Bettis came, he came. Nothing she did would stop it from happening. It was highly unlikely he had followed them anyway. In any case, she was too hungry to care. She had missed supper and breakfast and coffee! If nothing else she was going to have a cup, even if she had to walk over and demand one from the neighbors. Rummaging through the cabinets, she found a sealed bag of dark roast and breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t find a coffee pot, but a French press lay in what she hoped was the clean side of the sink. Fifteen minutes later, Janis returned to the table with a coffee cup in hand, along with two breakfast cereal bars she’d found, while waiting for the coffee to get done. They might not be Pop-tarts, but they’d do. The whole situation suddenly struck her as odd. She was sitting in a total stranger’s kitchen wearing nothing but a piece of canvas debating the pros and cons of being stalked by a homicidal manic. The crazed killer she could deal with, but it was the canvas thing that had her worried. She couldn’t even bring herself to think about what she and Michael had used it for last night! Janis chuckled softly to herself. She wondered what Michael would say if he came back to find her sitting here starkers with a cup of coffee in her hand. The joke was not lost on her. As funny as the image was, she couldn’t help hoping Michael would see it in an entirely different light. She wasn’t exactly ready to throw herself at him but if he wanted to have his way with her, who was she to deny herself the pleasure? She stopped the highly destructive train of thought she was riding for it was worth. She wasn’t about to get her hopes up. It wasn’t like they had any kind of agreement or anything. She told him herself it was a one-time thing. There wasn’t a guarantee he would still want her like he had last night. She had given him the whole cow after all. Janis didn’t want to blow her own horn, but last night had been fantastic. She had used moves which would have made Cosmo put out a special edition. Michael had been around, but she had used some serious technique on him. Surely, he would try for a repeat at the very least. But, would a repeat mean he felt the same way she did? She looked toward the couch, as she heard the familiar buzz of her cell phone coming from her purse. Thankfully, it stopped the pathetic question from finding the answer she was dreading to even consider, but it came flying through, in spite of her efforts. She might actually be past falling in love with him and have gone all the way to picking out china patterns. She pushed the idea, as far back into her subconscious as she could before it could take root and end up making her feel any worse than she already did. Just answer the damn phone. It was Michael, more than likely, calling to check on her. “Michael,” she said, flipping the phone open. “Wrong answer, lawyer-lady. Wanna try, again?” The sound of Bettis’s voice froze her straight to her soul. Janis couldn’t catch her breath. He’d found her! She rushed over to the window and pulled back the curtains. The driveway was empty. There wasn’t even a car on the street. The empty street didn’t mean anything. Bettis could be hiding anywhere. Where was Michael when she needed him?
71
J. Morgan
Chapter 22 “Bettis.” Her voice was a harsh whisper. It took everything she had not to scream. “In two.” His evil laugh skittered down her spine. “How did you get this number?” Fear choked her. Only a few friends and colleagues had her cell phone number. She could count all of them on one hand. None of them would be willing to give it to anyone without her say-so, let alone give it to a killer out for her blood. There was only one way he could have gotten it from them and it wasn’t a pretty picture to imagine. If anything had happened to any one of them, it would be all her fault. “I went to your boyfriend’s place last night but you were already gone, so I had to get creative. Didn’t I, hot stuff?” Janis heard some shuffling on the other end of the phone. Then Bettis’s voice filled the line once again. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Tell your friend how much you miss her.” “Janis.” Gwen sobbed into the phone. Janis’s blood ran cold. He had Gwen, just like Michael said he might. How had he gotten to her? Only one way sprang to mind. He must have been watching Gwen and then he followed her to Michael’s place. How else would he know she had been staying there? God, she’d been such a fool. Her stupidity had delivered Gwen right into Bettis’s hands. “Gwen, are you all right? He hasn’t hurt you, has he?“ Janis tried to block out all the horrible images her questions brought to mind. “I’m okay. He hasn’t hurt me. He just wants you. He said if you do what he wants, I’ll be okay.” The fear in Gwen’s voice was so strong Janis could feel it over the phone. “It’ll be all right, Gwennie. I promise.” Janis cried into the receiver. “Don’t be making promises you can’t keep, bitch. No sense getting the little lady’s hopes up,” Bettis snarled. “Leave her the hell alone, you son of a bitch. Just tell me what you want.” Janis screamed into the phone. “I want you. Now, you get your ass back here straight away and I’ll be more than happy to let little Gwennie go. Just like I said I would.” Janis knew he was probably lying, but she had to do something. No matter what happened, she wasn’t about to leave Gwen with him a moment longer than she had to. She would do whatever it took to make sure than Gwen got back to her family. Janis knew one thing for sure, if she stayed here, Bettis would kill Gwen. It didn’t for a minute mean Janis thought the son of a bitch wasn’t going to do his best to kill them both, if he had the chance. Janis wasn’t about to give him the chance. “If you so much as touch her, I’ll kill you.” Janis promised him, in a voice that could have boiled iron. “I’ll tell you what I’ll make it easy for you. My ass ain’t gonna move an inch, so you come on and try. I’ll even be here quaking in my boots, 'cause you got me so scared.” Bettis snarly laughter filled the receiver. The sound was like a knife through her. How dare he invade her life and laugh about it! This was the last straw. He may have screwed with her life, but she’d be damned if she let him get away with making Gwen a part of it. She would play along with him for her friend’s sake, but by everything she held sacred he was going to pay. All she to do was keep him calm and everything should be all right. “Look, Bettis. It’s going to take me a while to get back to town. How do I know you
The Michelangelo Blues
72
won’t hurt her before I can get back there?” Janis asked, deciding to string him along. If he knew she was coming, it might mean he’d leave Gwen alone long enough for her to get there. “You don’t, so hurry. Before you get any funny ideas, leave your boyfriend where he’s at. This is between me and you. If I see him, I’ve got a knife that’ll give your friend a smile from ear to ear. The same goes if you call the cops. This is a going to be a private party, if you get my drift.” Janis knew he meant what he said. He would kill Gwen without a qualm. God, what would she tell Gwen’s husband, if anything happened to her? “Where am I supposed to find you?” She asked, fighting back her tears. “We’ll be at your boyfriend’s, so don’t be late or Gwen might not be here to tell you nice I’ve treated her.” The phone went dead in her ear. Janis slumped against the back of the couch, clutching the phone in her limp hand. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, this had to happen. What was she going to do? Janis’s head swam with all the possible things he could be doing to Gwen. The one thing she knew for sure was she had to get out of here before Michael came back. Bettis made it clear he didn’t want to see Michael anywhere near them. As much as she wanted him with her, she was going to have to do this on her own. She could call the cops when she got to Michael’s house. She would have enough time to set Bettis at ease and let them come to the rescue. Now all she had to do was figure out how she was going to get home. Gwen’s life depended on her getting back to Bastille, as quick as possible. Taking a plane was out. Her credit cards were nearly maxed out and she didn’t have enough cash on hand to buy a ticket in any case. Wait a minute! She had seen a rental agency down the street on the drive in. She was sure she had enough on her credit cards for a rental, so getting a car should be a breeze. If she hurried, she could be home in four hours. Maybe less, if she didn’t care about getting a ticket. A guilty conscious hit her, as she threw her clothes into her bag. She couldn’t leave without letting Michael know she was all right, even if it was a lie. She couldn’t come out and tell him what was going on, but she didn’t want to have Michael following her either. She would have to lie to him. Tell him Wallace called to say Bettis was caught. No, he would call Wallace and find out the truth. She threw her bag on top of Michael’s in disgust. Finally, she decided to leave a note saying she went to the store to get something to eat. He would buy that, especially after yesterday. If she was lucky, it should throw him off long enough for her to get back to Bastille. She hated having to lie to him, but there was no other way. He was too much the hero to let her go alone. She hastily wrote out the note. Even as she wrote it, Janis knew she probably wouldn’t see him again. Bettis was not going to let her live, if her plan didn’t work. She seriously doubted than even Gwen would make it, but she had to try. Janis rose from the table and went over to her duffel bag. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. As she dragged the shirt from her bag, Michael’s duffel slid off the couch, spilling over the floor. She was going to leave his clothes lying there, when something caught her eye. Amid the jumble of clothes Janis caught sight of Michael’s gun. Janis reached down and grabbed it. She was no stranger to guns. When she was younger, her uncle had taught her to shoot. He told her every woman needed to know how to defend themselves. She thanked him silently. This was her equalizer. Bettis would never suspect she would bring a gun. With that edge she might just get out of this alive.
73
J. Morgan
Chapter 23 Michael slammed his hand against the dash in frustration. An empty bag of chips flew into the air only to fall to the floor, spilling out the few remaining crumbs it contained over the floorboard. Not even noticing, he cursed for the hundredth time in as many minutes. Ahead of him traffic was at a standstill, yet again. The short trip back to Ellen’s apartment moved at a snail’s pace. Ever since he had left the gallery’s parking lot, the gods of traffic had been against him. He’d hoped once he hit the highway the traffic would lighten up. No such luck. Five more minutes and he had all but decided to walk back to Ellen’s place. Truthfully, Michael was more furious with himself than the crawling traffic. He never should have left Janis alone for as long, as he had. He should have walked out of the gallery the minute he saw it was going to take all afternoon for them to see him. In the end his hour and a half had turned into four long drug-out hours. Janis must be climbing the walls by now. He could just imagine the grief she had in store for him with all the time she had on her hands, waiting for him to get back. If he was lucky, she would hopefully settle on just ripping him a new one. He would make it up to her, somehow. He‘d find the best restaurant in town and if she gave him the chance, he’d treat her like the queen of the world. The car ahead of him pulled away. Michael slipped the car back into drive and moved on down the road. The pace was still slow but at least he was moving. Twenty minutes later, he turned off onto Ellen’s street. Michael gunned the engine, as soon as he made the turn, going a little faster than he should have down the side street, but after the infuriating slow crawl he couldn’t help himself. Michael pulled into the driveway, coming to a stop in a hail of dust and thrown grave. Jumping from the car, he sprinted to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he fumbled in his pocket for the key to the apartment. Reaching the door, he slammed the key into the lock. It opened to the push, as soon as the key touched it. The door wasn’t even locked. He slipped into the room, expecting to find the worst, only to find nothing. Except for not seeing Janis, the room looked just like he had left it. Panic swept over him. What if Bettis had followed them and made his move after he had left this morning? Michael scanned the room, looking for any sign of a struggle or anything remotely pointing to evidence of foul play. Again, he found nothing. Disgusted with himself for leaving her, he walked over to the table. His note was gone, but he found a new one in Janis’s handwriting in its place. He quickly read the letter. A wave of relief washed over him. She had finally gotten tired of waiting on him and had gone out to get something to eat. Michael couldn’t blame her. He should be grateful she had even left a note. With a sigh he flopped down in a chair and wished she had put a time on the note, so he would at least know what time she left. Then, he’d have some gauge on how long she’d been gone. Shreveport was not either of theirs home. It may have taken her a while to find someplace to eat. He laughed, when he saw her cell sitting on the table. She probably called a taxi to take her, since he had the car. Still, her leaving the phone was funny. The girl must have been starving and left it sitting there. More than likely, she forgot it on purpose to get a
The Michelangelo Blues
74
break from Wallace’s harping phone calls. A cool draft from the open door, slapped him across the back of the neck. He must be loosing his mind to forget to close it behind him. He got up to close it before he let in everything from mosquitoes to the neighborhood cat. As he walked past the couch, he saw his duffel on the floor. She was a bigger slob than he was. He bent over to shove the clothes back in and felt for the familiar bulge of his gun in the bag. A moment of concern hit him when he couldn’t find it. Frantic, he dumped the clothes back on the floor and rummaged through the mass of laundry. The gun wasn’t there. Maybe, Janis found it and took it for protection. It was the only answer he could come up with. He bet anything she hadn’t even checked in with Wallace before she left. Whenever that was? His uncle would be climbing the walls by now. He pulled his cell from his pocket only to find it flashing low battery. With his phone dead he didn’t want Ellen’s phone to show up on Wallace’s caller I.D. He might be overly cautious but there was a remote chance Bettis could break into CMC and trace them to Shreveport through the number. Better to play it safe and use a number that wouldn’t draw attention to their whereabouts. Feeling like a paranoid fool, he went back over to the table and picked up Janis’s phone. When he saw the missed call message flashing on the small screen, he punched up the call record to see how many times his uncle had called. His brow furled when he found all the calls were from his house phone. A bead of worry ran down his spine. He hit voice mail, hoping whoever had called left a message. Bingo. The screen read one message. Without missing a beat he hit playback. “Lawyer lady, your friend is getting antsy. You better not be blowing me off.” The line clicked dead, but Michael had heard enough. Bettis! The fucker was at his house and had called Janis. Shit! Not only had he called her, but he was holding a friend of hers, using whoever it was as bait. Dammit, it had to be Gwen. The bastard must have followed Gwen to the house the night she stayed over. It was the only way Bettis could have discovered she was staying at his house. Five’ll get you ten the convict had gone to the house and found them gone, so went after Gwen because he knew Janis would do anything to save her. Like, run away and not tell him. Janis was walking into a trap and he didn’t even know how long she’d been gone. He checked the time on the voice message. It read 1:57. It was now a little after five o’clock. From the phone’s built-in timer he guessed she must have a three hour headstart on him at the most. There was no way he could beat her back to Bastille by car. He could call Wallace, but his uncle would send in the cavalry, which would get Gwen killed. If Janis had left earlier than he thought, she might already be dead. He couldn’t even call Bob either, for the same reason. Bob and Wallace were from the same school, go in with guns blazing and let God sort out the dead bodies. He was up the proverbial creek without a paddle. Michael racked his brain. There had to be a way to get there. He tried to think of anyone he could call who could help him get to her without getting her killed. In the end he knew what he had to do and it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Only one person could help him, and it was the last person he could turn to. He looked at the phone on the table like it was a snake. He swore after the last time he’d never ask the old man for anything, but Janis was worth biting back his pride. Her life was worth a helluva lot more than the gallons of bile he was about to have to choke down. He picked up the cell phone and punched in his father’s number. He just hoped the old
J. Morgan
75
man was in a forgiving mood. The phone seemed to ring forever before Michael heard someone pick up on the other end. The sound of his father’s voice sung out like a bullhorn in the empty loft. “Who the hell is this?” “Dad.” Michael found himself mumbling like he was ten years old again. “Michael?” Big Jake’s tone softened. “Yeah, it’s me.” “I’m surprised. After our last conversation you made it clear you didn’t want to talk to me, again.” Was that pain Michael heard in his father’s voice? “Well, things change,” was the only thing Michael could bring himself to say. “I’d be lying to you, if I thought you called me for a Dr. Phil moment, so spill it.” Big Jake grunted. “Dad, I need a favor.” Michael could feel the bile rising. “So, it comes to you needing something. Michael, I’m not a bank. If you need money, get a job. You had your shot at a good job and you blew it,” his father snapped. “This isn’t about money! You can yell at me all you want, but I need your help and by God you’re going to help me, whether you like it or not!” Michael was tired of this bullshit. It never changed. For the past ten years his father was throwing LSU up in his face. Well, dammit, it was going to end tonight. “Don’t talk to me in that tone, boy. I’m your father and you damn well better remember it!” Big Jake shouted. “Like anyone would let me forget, but this isn’t about me. I have a friend who is in trouble and I need your help to save her.” Michael forced down the anger filling him. Janis was the one who was important now. His feud with his father could wait. “Is this about the girl who works for Wallace?” The elder Dumont asked, his voice losing some of its edge. “Yes, somehow Bettis got to her and I need to get back to Bastille before anything happens to her.” Michael explained. “Call Wallace and let him handle it. This is his mess.” Big Jake answered flatly. “He would just get her killed. Father, I wouldn’t ask you for help, if I thought he could handle it.” The line was silent for a few minutes. Michael was afraid his father was calling Wallace on another line. The seconds ticked by, killing Michael, as he counted them off in his head. “Okay, Michael. What can I do?” Jake’s voice said finally. “I’m in Shreveport. I need a lift back to Bastille, ASAP.” Michael answered. “You’re in luck. I have a plane in a hanger at the regional airport. I’ll call the tower and have it ready for you. You still have your pilot’s license, I hope,” Big Jake stated. “Yeah, it’s up to date. Dad, I want to thank you for helping me.” Michael was sincere. He couldn’t always say the words, but tonight was different. “No need. In spite of what you may think, I am your father. Just promise me you won’t get yourself killed over this girl. I expect to hear from you when this is over. I think it’s past time we worked out this mess between us.” Before Michael could say anything, his father hung up. He was glad for the phone call’s abrupt end for more than one reason. The first being he didn’t know what to say. The animosity between them had gone on for so long it was impossible to think it could possibly ever end. The sound in his father’s voice made him think he could be wrong. Well, it was all moot. He had to get to Janis first. She was all that mattered now. If
The Michelangelo Blues
76
he got to her in time, he was ready for anything, even reconciling with his father. The problem was what his father said had struck close to home. He really wasn’t all that sure he was going to make it through this thing alive.
77
J. Morgan
Chapter 24 Janis rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She nearly missed seeing the sign announcing she was at last home. She hit Bastille’s city limits going ninety to nothing. Yawning, she looked down at the clock sitting above the radio. It flashed 6:07 back at her in the pale gloom of the dashboard light. She tried not to think about how long it had taken her to get here. Needless to say, the trip had been one delay after another. Janis thought it would never come to an end. The entire trip had all gone downhill from the start. Her short hike to the rental agency could be said to be the quickest thing she’d done today. She would have already been here, if it hadn’t been for the kid behind the counter. The twit hadn’t helped in the least to expedite matters. She’d barely been able to stop herself from choking the life out of the snotty little bastard. In the end she’d ended up with a car older than he was for all her restraint. By then she was just grateful to be on her way to say anything, not to say she hadn’t promised herself to go back and let him have a piece of her mind. Once out of Shreveport, she thought she would have it made, but her luck was running from bad to worse. Traffic was backed up the whole way. Janis guessed she should be glad she made it back to Bastille at all. The way people in this state drove, you were lucky not to end up in the hospital taking a drive to the corner store let alone a hellbent for leather drive across the state. Her luck held played out when she reached the outskirts of Ruston. By then she was pushing the little car well past ninety miles per hour to make up for the lost time. The temperature gauge redlined ten minutes after passing the Tech off-ramp, making her throttle it back under sixty. Instead of saving time, it ended up costing her thirty minutes, because she had to pull off at a gas station to douse the radiator and let the motor cool down. After the smoke cleared and she was on the road again, she was forced to baby the car along. Keeping the car’s speed under fifty-five miles per hour was pure torture. The sluggish pace all but killed her to do it. Every time she tried to push it a few more miles per hour, the temperature inched toward the red, and she had to drop it below fifty to get the needle to go back down. Janis had grown frustrated, as cars blew past her, like she was sitting still. She hit Monroe with steam pouring out from under the hood. After another twentyminute delay and she was ready to make the last leg. Not caring if the car blew up or not, she set the faltering cruise control to sixty-five and headed out. Janis shook her head to clear the memories from her foggy brain and dropped her eyes to the clock. Another ten minutes and she’d be at Michael’s house. She’d be lying to herself, if she admitted to herself coming back alone was the right thing to do. In any case it was too late for second thoughts. For good or bad she was committed. The only thing troubling her was she had indirectly lied to Michael. Just because she had written it down, instead of lying to his face couldn’t change the fact she had mislead him with her note. After everything he had done for her, she should have told Michael what was going on. He deserved to know the truth. All the way home, it haunted her. The long drive had given her time to think. All her life she had run from the hard things. The thing with Bettis wasn’t hard. It was just a part of life. Her feelings about Michael were hard. She couldn’t help thinking leaving today was just her way of getting out of a tough situation she’d rather not face. Sure,
The Michelangelo Blues
78
running into the arms of a homicidal maniac to escape dealing with her feelings might sound crazy, but was it occurred to her it was just what she was doing. Michael would have understood. She knew it. Somehow they would have figured out a way to get home without putting Gwen in any more harm. It had been so long since she’d trusted anyone to get close to her. In spite of everything she couldn’t bring herself to commit herself to opening up to anyone, especially him. He was already worming his way past the defenses she had set into place. If he actually came through for her what then? Picket fences, a two-door garage, and kids with his eyes and her hair running around in the back yard with a dog name Scruffy. Michael Dumont was many things but he wasn’t husband material. Hell, she wasn’t anywhere close to being ready to become somebody’s wife. He was a pleasant diversion one she would remember for the rest of her life, but that was all he could ever be. She couldn’t depend on him to save her. He meant well, but, dammit! She was a grown woman. She could fight her own battles, without having to have a knight in shining armor coming to her rescue. Who was she trying to fool? She should have trusted Michael enough to tell him what was going on. She wasn’t stupid enough to think Bettis wasn’t going to eat her up alive the minute she set one foot in the house. In spite of her feelings she couldn’t risk Gwen’s life by telling him. Bettis said he’d kill her, if Michael showed his face. Janis couldn’t take the chance. She might be willing to risk her life, but Gwen’s was a totally different story. Janis couldn’t stop wondering what Michael was doing. He must know by now she wasn’t coming back. She hated to think about the worry she was causing him. He must be going nuts. God, what if he called Wallace? Wallace would be furious. She had to fight the urge to call him, so he’d know she was all right. No, if she called him, Janis knew she’d break down and tell her boss everything. She couldn’t allow herself to think about calling him. Thinking of breaking down and asking for help would do nothing but get Gwen killed. She couldn’t even go through with her original plan of calling the police and having them meet her there. It was just too damn risky. As much as she would like to deny it, with everything rushing toward her last night had been running through her mind all day. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t shed the memory of their lovemaking. Michael filled every synapse of her being; the feel of his body under her, the fullness of him as he filled every inch of her. Sometimes, she could still feel the press of him against her. Her body tingled, just thinking about it. Why couldn’t she get him off her mind? Janis knew she should be focusing on Bettis. In all likelihood within the next few minutes all hell would break loose. The last thing she needed to be doing was dreaming about Michael Dumont. Then, why couldn’t she stop doing it? Michael would never be her white knight. He wasn’t going to come running in to save her. He was back in Shreveport. The only way he was going come to the rescue was if he grew wings and flapped his ass all the way to Bastille. As cute as the image looked in her mind, she couldn’t pin her hopes on anyone’s help. Janis had to accept the fact the minute she left Shreveport she was in this on her own. She’d been alone her whole life. It was too late for her to depend on anyone now, even if the someone so happened to be Michael Dumont. She shook her head to clear out the cobwebs. Her mind had been wandering for so
J. Morgan
79
long she’d made it through town without even noticing. It was like she was operating on autopilot. All too soon, Michael’s driveway loomed directly in front of her. She made the turnoff with more than a little trepidation. As brave as she might have been starting out, she felt none of the emotion right now. Her hands were slick with sweat as she slid them off the steering wheel to put the car into park. Janis sat in the darkened driveway leaving the motor running. Her hands slick with sweat on the tattered steering wheel, she looked up at the house. It loomed above her like the gate to hell. In the dimming daylight she could barely make it out against the backdrop of the woods lying beyond it. The entire house was dark. She could see no sign that anyone was even there. She turned the key, killing the motor. The silence was deafening without the drum of the engine around her. Her ears strained to pick out the familiar chirps of the crickets as they came out to welcome the coming night, even they had deserted her. Watching the sun fall behind the treetops, she welcomed the hiss of the cooling motor. As much as Janis wanted to start the car and haul butt down the driveway, she wouldn’t do it. It was too late for her to back out now. It didn’t stop her from glancing behind her toward the street. Janis was honest with herself. She was afraid, more so than she’d ever been in her entire life. Her hand fell to the door handle and pushed it open. It was time to play this out. Stepping from the car, she felt for the cold weight of Michael’s gun in her purse. It was a cold lump against her hand amid the trash populating the bottom of her bag. She pulled the gun out in the shadow of the car, making sure the car kept her actions hidden away from prying eyes. Holding her breath, she looked to the house for any sign she had been seen. The house seemed decidedly oblivious to her actions. Taking a last paranoid look toward it, Janis deftly clicked a round into the chamber. She flinched, as the muffled sound echoed through the night air. She hastily shoved the gun into the pocket of her jacket. The coat was bulky enough it hid the bulge of the gun nicely. Janis could only hope the darkness would aid in the deception as well. She hated to think of what Bettis would do, if he knew she brought a gun to his ambush. She tried not to think about it. The gun was her insurance policy. Bettis was twice her size. You better believe she was going to take every advantage she could get. Let him get close enough for a knee to the groin and see if she didn’t show him a thing or two about singing soprano in the prison choir. Reaching the top of the steps, Janis was not surprised to find the door open. She stood there for a minute, trying to fight down every instinct telling her to run like hell and let the cops handle this. Gwen was depending on her to get her out of this jam and there was no way she was going to let her down. Drawing on the last of her courage, Janis walked through the door. She stopped just inside the doorway. She forced herself not to look back. It seemed like a million years ago since she last set foot inside Michael’s home. The empty house held none of the warmth she had come to associate with it in her short time there. Instead, the house had become an empty husk promising only her death. Without knowing why, she reached back to shut the door behind her. A stiff gust of wind slammed it shut for her. The sound filled the breezeway like a gun shot. She looked up, expecting Bettis to come running. Nothing moved. The house’s silence in the face of her fear mocked her.
The Michelangelo Blues
80
Janis almost wished he would come after her. She was ready for this to be over. One way or another, it soon would be. The thought firmly entrenched in her brain, she took one more step and the darkness consumed her.
81
J. Morgan
Chapter 25 Michael double-checked his altitude. The instrument panel read level like it had the last fifteen times he had checked it. He knew it was just nervous energy, but he had to do something. Thinking about Janis alone with Bettis was driving him crazy. He should have been there. He could have stopped her from running off, if he hadn’t been so damn worried about his fucking art show. It didn’t even matter anymore. Nothing mattered, except getting to Janis. Michael knew he’d be touching down in less than ten minutes, but even ten seconds seemed like days. He needed to get to Janis, now! He would have set the plane down in the middle of his street, if he could have. Michael looked out the curved windshield wistfully. The lights of Bastille were twinkling on the curved horizon. He was lucky the plane was small enough to land at the local airfield, which saved him the hassle of driving to Bastille all the way from Monroe. Taking the detour would have cost him another thirty minutes. Time was something he didn’t have to spare. He nearly jumped from the seat when the radio crackled to life. The tower must have picked him up on radar. Feeling stupid, Michael reached down and picked it up glad no one was there to see how jumpy he was getting. “Bastille tower, this is CessnaB723 on approach heading North by Northwest,” Michael informed the tower, as a matter of routine. “Roger the heading, Cessna. We’ve got you on radar. Keep on your current heading,” the voice told him. “Will do. I’ll radio you, when I’m ready for my final approach.” “You should have a clear approach, Cessna. You’re the only traffic on the board tonight.” The voice clicked off, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts. The whole trip had been one long anxiety attack. Quite a few times he’d nearly broken down and called Uncle Wallace and spilled everything. He should have, but something held him back. Wallace could have had men already in place and this would all be over. Or, Janis could be dead because one of Bob’s trigger-happy men jumped the gun and rushed in before they made sure Janis was safe. He couldn’t risk anything happening to her. He’d all ready screwed up enough without adding to it. He should never have left her alone in the first place. Going to the police might save her but it could get her killed too. No, he was lying to himself, if he honestly thought the police couldn’t handle this. Sitting here alone a thousand feet in the air, he was man enough to admit he wanted to be the one to rescue her. It was selfish of him, he knew. Michael couldn’t stop wanting to be her hero for once. Since this mess started, he’d felt more like her prison guard than her protector. He couldn’t help but wonder if his pride was worth the chance he was taking with her life. The truth was Janis had him all screwed up, plain and simple. He used to have a lot of common sense. What was it about her that made all his common sense go flying out the window? It couldn’t have been the sex. Sure, it was unbelievable fantastic earth-moving sex, but it hadn’t been his first rodeo. He’d been around enough to know sex was not the end-all, be-all of any relationship. It was Janis. She was the reason. For the first time in his life, he might actually be in love. The fact he said it to her while she slept this morning, proved it. In his entire adult
The Michelangelo Blues
82
life he never said those words to anyone. Now, whenever he thought about Janis, they were the only words he could think about. If only he knew how she would take it? She had been all this is a one-night stand last night. Michael just couldn’t accept she could be like those other women, who had invaded his life with their wants and overbearing needs. To think she could be filled him with such despair he instantly drove the thought from his brain. There had to be some other reason behind the way she was acting. Michael thought he might have an idea of what it might be—his checkered past when it came to women. Well, he was going to do his best to get her to see past his reputation. It wasn’t going to be easy. To begin with he had to fight the bad guy, save the damsel in distress and he then get to the hard part, actually getting to prove he wasn’t the total whore hound she thought he was. ***** Janis stood on the edge of the darkness cloaking the narrow hallway. The thin light from the moon was a pale halo behind her. She turned around slowly. She’d stood here for the last few minutes, waiting for any sign Bettis was still waiting for her somewhere in the house. Except for one light on at the far end of the house, the place was as silent and dark as a tomb. She gulped. Even, a sound so low reverberated throughout the narrow hallway. At least to her ears it did. She forced her feet to stumble toward the light. Though she’d been away for less than a day, the black landscape was a haunting mystery to her. Every shadow jumped at her. She fought past it and slowly made her way down the narrow hallway to the flickering light at the back of the house. Her head swished from side to side, looking into the rooms opening off the hall. They were washed with a silvery blue radiance from the curtains hanging limply over the windows. Janis found herself stopping with each creak and each groan the old house emitted. The sounds sent chills running up her spine. They would have been worse, if she didn’t know Bettis was here somewhere, waiting for her. She had to smother a laugh. The whole thing was like one of those cheesy horror movies. If this was truly one of those, any minute now the monster would be about to jump out and drag her off to his lair. This time when the monster jumped out, it wouldn’t be a movie. It would be for real. She drew up short when she reached the door to Michael’s studio. She was amazed she had managed to make it this far with no sign of Bettis. She guessed his plan was to make her jumpy and easier to take. Well, if he wanted to have her nervous as hell, it was working. She bent to listen through the crack in the door. She thought she heard something, but couldn’t say exactly what. Janis gripped the gun in her pocket. Saying a silent prayer, she pushed the door into the room. In the center of the room, amid a choir of easels, Gwen sat under a dim spotlight. Bettis had her playing the role of bait to a T. He even had her tied securely in place. She was gagged too, but at the sight of Janis the woman started making mumbling sounds through the heavy rag shoved into her mouth. Janis scanned the room for any sign of him. It was too dark for her to see anything, except for the ring of bright light shining on her friend. He could be hiding in the shadows and she would never notice if he was there. She
J. Morgan
83
would have to risk trying to free Gwen. If she was lucky, Bettis was either gone already or in some other part of the house and hadn’t heard her drive up. Her whole body alert for the faintest hint of his return, Janis walked over to Gwen. The other woman’s eyes were wide and crazed. Shame welled up inside Janis when she saw the amount of anguish her friend was going through all because of her. Janis threw caution to the wind and ran the rest of the way. Once she reached Gwen, she dropped to her knees and pulled the gag from the frightened woman’s mouth. Gwen began coughing and gagging. Tears ran from her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. She tried to talk but fell into another fit of coughing. “Don’t try to talk. It’s going to all right. As soon as I get these ropes loose we’re out of here.” Janis knew she was being overly optimistic, but dammit she had to say something to calm her friend down. “He’s behind you!” Gwen screamed out, her voice hoarse and strained from disuse. Janis jumped up only to have Bettis slam her back down to the floor. She tried to rise, but a meaty hand held her firmly in place. She struggled but Bettis had her right where he wanted her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do.
The Michelangelo Blues
84
Chapter 26 “Well if it ain’t the lady lawyer. Just the bitch I’ve been waiting for,” Bettis snarled, his breath hot and stale on the side of her face. Janis could barely breathe. Bettis jerked her up until she was even with his face. He rubbed the stiff bristles of his beard against the side of her neck. She tried not to flinch, but couldn’t help herself. “Don’t go all uptight on me. We ain’t even got started with the fun yet,” he hissed into her ear. “Not after I waited so long to have you where I wanted you. I could have had some fun with your friend, but I was saving myself for you.” “You got me. Now, let Gwen go,” Janis demanded, hiding the fear screaming its way through her brain, like freight train at midnight. “And let her go running her ass to the cops. I don’t think so.“ Bettis squeezed her neck and she couldn’t hold back the cry of pain. “You promised.” Janis fought through the pain of his calloused fingers, kneading their way into the tender muscles of her neck. “Never let it be said that I wasn’t a bastard of my word. Me, and you are going to take us a little ride. We’ll leave your girlfriend here, while we go play.” He grinned at the look of horror crossing Janis’s face. “You won’t get away with this. Every cop in Bastille is looking for you.” Janis winced. More than ever she was convinced if she left the house with him, she was as good as dead. “Let ‘em look. They ain’t found me yet, have they? I bet old Bob is pissing his britches to get his hands on me, too.” Bettis let out a howl of laughter. “But let me tell you something, by the time hot stuff over there gets loose, I’ll be long gone and you’ll be dead.” The threat hung like a nightmare over Janis’s soul. His words chilled her to the quick. This was it. She saved Gwen but nobody was going to save her. If only, she had the sense to leave word with Michael, there might have been a chance. All the what if’s in the world weren’t going to help her now. Bettis roughly jerked Janis up by her hair. She let out an agonizing scream, as she felt the clumps of hair being pulled loose from her scalp by his gnarled fingers. He was a big man and she dangled like a rag doll in his steely grip. She wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Her fingers clawed at his arm, drawing ribbons of blood in his flesh. Her hands ran red with his blood, but he tightened his grip. The harder she struggled the more he laughed. Janis felt herself begin to black out from the pain. She knew this was only the beginning. When Bettis got her where he wanted, this was going to be the least of what she could expect. Maybe, it would be better, if she blacked out. She’d rather not know what was coming. “Put her down, you miserable piece of shit.” Michael’s voice reverberated through the room. Janis lifted her head. She was dreaming. There was no way he could be here. She looked up through her haze of pain. Michael stood in the studio doorway, like the white knight she’d been wishing for. It hit her then he was her knight in shining armor. How he got here in the nick of time wasn’t important. All that mattered now was he was here. He was here to save her. He truly did care about her. This wasn’t a job to him otherwise he could have called the cops and let them handle it.
J. Morgan
85
***** Michael’s heart leapt straight into his throat. The sight of Bettis holding Janis like a piece of meat sent hot anger rushing through him. His face was a grim testament of his controlled rage. All through the long plane ride to Bastille, his mind had whirled with images of finding Janis dead or worse. The thought had filled him with such despair he promised himself when he caught up with her he was never going to let her out of his sight again. “You heard me. Let her go!” Michael ordered, taking a step toward them. Bettis didn’t say a word. He just smiled at him. Before Michael could take another step, the convict whipped Janis around, until she was a human shield between him and Michael. Michael cringed, as he saw a straight razor materialize in the man’s free hand. The wicked blade glinted in the darkness, inching toward Janis’s slender neck. Michael’s eyes darted between the flashing blade and the face of the convict. Bettis’s eyes were cold and hard tombstones with Janis’s name written all over them. Michael knew if he tried to make a move on the other man, Janis would be dead before he took a single step. “I told you what I’d do if you brought your boyfriend along. Didn’t I, bitch? When I finish with you and the super hero, I’m going to slice your friend into bite-sized chunks,” Bettis hissed into Janis’s ear but loud enough for Michael to hear. He could only watch, as statement sent Janis frantically struggling to escape the iron hold the man had on her. Bettis slammed his elbow into the base of her neck. Her mouth slapped shut with a loud click. “You do that again, and I’d like nothing more than to kill you now.” Bettis dragged the razor into the tight flesh of her neck. Janis cried out, as the blade bite into her. A thin trickle of blood ran down into the hollow of her collarbone. Michael could see Bettis hadn’t cut deep, just enough to let her know he meant business. Michael soul howled in rage. The sight of Janis’s blood propelled him forward. Before Bettis knew what was happening, Michael had covered the distance and slammed his fist into the man’s face. Bettis’s body flipped around by the impact of the blow, throwing Janis to the floor. Michael didn’t miss a beat. Once he saw Janis scrambling out of harm’s way, he pressed his attack. Swinging like a madman, he pummeled the man mercilessly, driving him back into a stack of canvases. His last blow sent Bettis staggering back into the paintings scattering them across the floor. Michael didn’t let his guard down. He knew Bettis wasn’t through. Sure enough, it took little time for him to come barreling up from the floor. Michael jumped back, as three hundred pounds of pure hate came at him. He sidestepped to the left, but it wasn’t enough. The enraged ex-con swung wide, delivering a roundhouse straight into Michael’s exposed abdomen. The punch sent him stumbling back, gasping for air. He caught his breath in time for the other man’s meaty fist to come right at his face. The blow landed with a loud crack. Michael felt his jaw give way, the bones grinding inside his ear. Michael fought to remain on his feet. The pain was excruciating, every second sending new bursts of agony shooting through his face. Finally, the pain was too much. He caught sight of Janis scrambling toward the door. She looked back and he cursed himself. He failed her and now she was going to die because he was too damn proud to let the police help her. He had a chance to get one last look at her before the pain flooded him again and he simply went down. The last thing he
The Michelangelo Blues
86
saw was Bettis’s boot swinging straight for his head. He didn’t even feel it. All he could do was lie there as he waited for the next kick to fall.
***** Janis screamed as she saw Michael go down. Her mind kept telling her he was going to get back up. Janis was rooted in place. Michael couldn’t fall. In spite of everything he was her white knight. White knights didn’t fall. They kicked ass and took names. He couldn’t be. She couldn’t even think the word. She held her breath, praying for him to get back up, but he didn’t move from where he lay. “Looks like your boyfriend don’t have what it takes.” Bettis said delivering two more kicks to Michael’s head with his steel-toed boot. “Michael!” The scream tore itself from the depths of Janis’s heart, as she heard the crack of bone accompanying each kick. “That was fun but let’s see how he looks with his throat slit.” Bettis snapped the razor open and swung it down toward Michael. Janis watched the deadly pendulum fall. She howled, her hands falling to her side in blank disbelief. First Gwen, now Michael; both of them were going to die, because of her. Her hand clutched the folds of her jacket. A heavy weight fell into her palm. Then, she suddenly remembered she still had Michael’s gun. Frantically, Janis fumbled toward her jacket pocket. She prayed in her haste she wouldn’t fumble the damn thing out where Bettis could see it. The cold weight of the gun greeted her hand from the folds of the pocket. She jerked the gun free and fired blindly, hoping she wouldn’t hit Michael or Gwen by mistake with the wild shot. The shot went wide, but it was enough to bring Bettis’s head up, the razor sitting forgotten in his hand. “Put the blade down,” Janis ordered, the gun shaking in her hand. “You ain’t got the balls, bitch. You shoot me, and I’m taking beefcake here, with me.” He jerked Michael’s head up by his hair. Bettis held the blade over his head, making chopping motions in the air. Janis wasn’t about to give him a chance to bring the blade to bear. She brought the gun up and fired. With a shot that would have made Buffalo Bill proud the bullet tore the razor’s blade from Bettis’s hand. “Try me, you son of bitch,” Janis growled. “Now, let him go before I put the next one through your heart.” Janis held her breath. They were far from safe. If Bettis thought she was bluffing, he could still kill Michael. She had to calm herself. The life of the man she loved hung in the balance. She forced herself to steady the gun and click another round into the chamber. Her eyes turned cold and hard so Bettis would know he was staring death in the face. Bettis held up his hand. The shattered razor fell to the floor with a dull clink. Janis shook the gun at him, telling him to back away from Michael’s quivering body. With his hands up in the air, he inched away. A wave of relief flowed over Janis. She couldn’t believe it was finally over. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Then, she remembered Michael and the relief she felt disappeared. It took everything she had not to drop the gun and rush over to him. The only thing stopping her was the look her nemesis was giving her. Janis decided to ignore him for the time being. As long as she had the gun, she had
J. Morgan
87
the upper hand and planned to keep it that way. She looked away and her eyes fell to the man at Bettis’s feet. She tried not to look at Michael’s broken body, but it was hard not to. Blood was forming a growing pool around his head. At first she thought he might be dead. The only indication, he was still alive was the slow and erratic rise and fall of his chest. This was her fault. Her wall of strength gave way and a waterfall of tears streamed down her face. If he died? No. She couldn’t think about her life without imagining him in it. He was going to be all right. Michael rolled over and started to moan, faintly. Again, Janis had to fight the urge to run over to him. She wasn’t about to let Bettis out of her sight. Her ears perked up. Sirens blared in the distance. God bless him. Michael must have called in the cavalry before he came rushing to the rescue. She didn’t have to wait long for them to arrive. Within minutes the house filled with running police officers. As soon as they had Bettis in cuffs, Janis dropped the gun and rushed over to Michael not giving a crap if Bettis decided to jump her or not. If he even tried, she hoped the cops filled his ass so full of lead he’d still be spitting it out in hell. She fell to the floor beside him and gasped. Up close he looked worse than she thought. His head was covered in blood. A jagged gash ran from the top of his right eyebrow and disappeared under his hairline. She brushed the mop of hair from his forehead, her fingers sticky with his blood. He was so cold. Janis knew head wounds were bad. There was no telling how much damage Bettis had done to him with his last kick. Janis tried not to think about the beating Michael took, brushing his matted hair away from his eyes. She stroked his cold cheek with trembling fingers. Tears ran down her cheeks, soaking his face. His eyes fluttered open at her touch. Janis cried even harder, when they looked up into hers. “I can’t believe you’re crying,” Michael mumbled, his voice groggy and hoarse. “Why not?” Janis smiled through the sobs ripping her apart. She was oblivious to the bustle of the police around them. “Because you just saved my bacon, Miss Stockwell, and the last time I checked, heroes don’t cry.” Michael gave her a pained grin, forcing her to smile back. “You’re an ass, do you know that?” Her laughter mixed with the emotions she had been keeping bottled up. “So you’ve said. I think it’s time you came up with some new material.” Michael sat up with a groan of pain. Janis grabbed him before he could topple back over. “Watch it. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You shouldn’t do anything until the paramedics have a chance to look you over.” Janis continued to stroke his cheek with her fingers. She couldn’t seem to stop touching him. “Screw it! Janis, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you.” His voice went weak, but she could see it had nothing to do with his injuries. “Shhh. You can tell me later.” Janis didn’t like the way his voice was wavering and his skin had gone past white to an almost translucent shade of pale. The wound under his scalp was gushing. She knew he shouldn’t have sat up. “No, I have to tell you, now.” His voice was so urgent Janis knew if she didn’t let him get it off his chest, he was going to do more damage to himself. “Then, lie down and I’ll listen,” she assured him, gently pushing him back down to the floor. He was so weak he didn’t even resist. “I realized something today, Janis. Last night was more than a one-night stand to me. I think you feel the same way. Tell me, if I’m wrong.” His eyes bored right through
The Michelangelo Blues
88
her defenses. “Michael, this won’t work. You don’t want me. I’m not like those beauty queens you’re used to. What makes you think in three months you won’t be tired of me?” Janis couldn’t believe he was saying this, now. For twelve years she’d dreamed of hearing those words from him. Now they were out in the open, she didn’t dare hope he meant them. “When you left me in Shreveport, the only thing I could think of was finding you. God, Janis. I don’t ever want to let you out of my sight ever again. I’ve spent too much of my life hiding who I am. I won’t, not anymore. Take a chance on me and I won’t let you down.” Michael reached up and cupped her cheek with one hand. His words burned her through her doubts and fears. She couldn’t count the times she’d felt the exact same way. She looked into his face and knew he was right. These past three days had been the best of her life. As much as she might try to deny it, Janis didn’t want to go back to the way things were before he came back into her life. Michael had filled the void her life had been missing. She couldn’t let him get away. “Michael.” The rest of the words died in her throat. He had gone deadly still. His chest was barely moving and his lips had gone all blue. Blood was gushing where Bettis had kicked him with his steel-toed boot. Oh God, not now! He couldn’t die on her like this. She had to tell him. She had to tell him she loved him. “Somebody, get a paramedic over here!” Janis looked up to see officers scrambling around the room. Janis held onto Michael’s hand. His pulse came erratically and far apart. He didn’t have much time. If they didn’t get here soon, he was going to die. Dying was something she would not allow to happen to him. “You dumb sons of bitches, he needs help, now!” she screamed. “Janis,” Michael croaked. Her head snapped back around. Michael’s voice was so quiet it made her heart ache. “Don’t talk. They’ll be here in a minute.” “Janis, I don’t want to die without knowing.” Coughs ripped through him, cutting off the rest of his words. “I love you, you dumb shit. Now, be quiet. You’re not going anywhere. Do you hear me?” Janis sobbed. “Is that an order?” Michael laughed, causing him to collapse into another series of coughs. “Yeah, it’s an order. If you die on me, who’s going to paint my ceiling?” She smiled through her tears. “Then, I guess better stick around.” Michael said, fading back into unconsciousness.
89
J. Morgan
Epilogue Six months later The gallery was crowded. Every wall was covered with the evidence of Michael’s beautiful artwork. Janis was astounded by it all. Sure, over the past six months she had seen most of it in varying stages of completion, but it was nothing compared to the way they looked finished. She still couldn’t believe the two of them were still together. Even after all they had been through, it constantly amazed her, her dreams had finally come true. Michael Dumont loved her. Every day he made sure she knew it. He was the only thing that had made life after the nightmare with Bettis bearable. She still woke up in the middle of the night, expecting the convict to be hovering over her. She knew it wasn’t possible, because between the kidnapping charge and the attempted murder charge, Bettis would not be seeing the outside of a prison for a very long time. Wallace had assured her she would never have to worry about him ever again. Janis took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and went back to admiring Michael’s work. She wished she could be admiring him, but the demands of being the guest of honor were keeping him busy. She looked across the room to see him wrapped up with a horde of people. He shot her a wink, when he caught her looking. She grinned at him and shook her head. All night she’d been trying to get a look at the painting he’d kept out of her sight. The entire time he’d being working on it he kept telling her she could see it at the show, like everyone else, which infuriated her to no end. After several failed attempts to get a peek she begrudgingly let him have his fun, but it was time to find out what the big deal was all about. Janis angled toward the back of the showroom. It took a couple of minutes of arm jostling but she made it. Standing in front of the painting she couldn’t believe it. Michael had finished the portrait of her without telling her. The most unbelievable part was she recognized the background. She stood there with her mouth open in shock. She felt the warmth spreading through her body, as she recognized the painting for what it really was. It was the same canvas from the night at Ellen’s apartment. He must have gone back and gotten the canvas after he had been released from the hospital without her knowing about it. She felt the tears burning the backs of her eyes. Janis looked up to see a small crowd gathered around the painting. She blushed as she realized everyone was looking at her. Well, not her, but the portrait. It made her feel like one of those classical Greek goddesses come to life. Over the past six months it had been a feeling she’d had all the time. Tonight was no different. Michael had found a way to make their love the centerpiece of his show. No wonder she loved the big goob. More importantly, Michael Dumont loved her and didn’t care if everyone in the world knew. In high school she had prayed for this to happen, religiously every night. In the end all it took was ten years, a madman and a blow to the head to make all her dreams come true. “Stunning isn’t it,” Wallace’s voice boomed from behind her. “Yes, it is.” Janis beamed.
The Michelangelo Blues
90
“If I’d known that scallywag of a nephew of mine was going to take my best lawyer away from me, I don’t think I’d have let you within ten miles of him.” Wallace’s voice was anything but angry. “I’m not leaving. I’m simply taking a break,” Janis assured him. “To Paris. The wilds of France seems like more than a break.” Wallace snorted. “It’s only for a year, while Michael completes his doctorate.” Janis said, taking a sip of champagne to hide her smirk at Wallace’s ire. “Janis, answer one thing for me. Is he worth putting your life on hold while he does it?” Wallace playful voice turned serious. “Let’s just say for the first time I feel like I have a life and it’s all because of him.” She hoped the perpetual smile on her face was the answer he was looking for. “He may be my nephew but if he hurts you, I’ll string him up from the courthouse flagpole by his balls,” Wallace said, giving her a hug. “Now, where is the man of the hour?” Janis turned her head to look around the gallery’s showroom. It had been awhile since she’d seen the man of the hour. The last time she caught sight of him he’d been doing the starving artist thing and mingling with the upper crust. Her eyes continued to scan the room until she found him at the door talking to a middle-aged man who had just come through the door. “I’ll be damned!” Wallace exclaimed. “Wallace, who’s Michael talking to?” Janis was mystified by Wallace’s remark. “That, my dear girl, is Big Jake Dumont,” Wallace whispered in her ear. “Michael’s father!” Janis was dumbfounded. She knew the elder Dumont was the reason Michael had been able to get back to Bastille so quickly the night of the mess with Bettis. Janis was just surprised to see him here. After everything she’d heard, Janis never thought she’d see the two of them in the same room together. As far as she knew, they hadn’t even talked since then. Michael turned toward her and Wallace. He pointed toward them and led his father toward them. The elder Dumont was actually smiling, as they walked over. Maybe, they had finally worked out their differences. Janis knew their estrangement was a weight on Michael’s shoulders she’d like to see him free of. “Dad, this is Janis,” Michael was saying, as the two men stopped in front of them. “Mr. Dumont, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Janis was more than a little intimidated by the man. He was even taller and broader than Michael. “No, sugar. The pleasure is mine. If it hadn’t been for you, we might not have worked things out.” Big Jake took her hand, kissing it lightly. Janis could see where Michael got his charm. “For bringing us back together I will forever be in your debt.” “I wish I could take all the credit.” Janis blushed. What was it about the Dumont men and their power to make her feel like a giddy schoolgirl? “After seeing you for myself, I think the credit is more yours than anyone else’s.” He shot her a sly wink before turning to her boss. “Wallace, if you can spare me a few minutes, there is a matter I’d like to discuss with you.” Big Jake didn’t give Wallace a chance to respond. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and wheeled him across the room. Janis had to laugh. For the first time since she met Wallace she found someone, who could actually bully him. It was refreshing to see he was bully-able. “What are you smiling at Miss Stockwell?” Michael asked, as he wrapped his arms
91
J. Morgan
around her. “Just thinking.” She decided to keep her observation to herself. “About me I hope,” Michael whispered into her ear. The feel of his breath on her neck sent shivers racing down her spine. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Dumont,” Janis snapped. Before she could finish, he whipped her around and kissed her. The heated caress melted the retort from her brain. “You were saying?” He asked breathlessly, pulling away from her. “I was saying if you keep doing that, I might force you to make an honest woman out of me.” “Well, they do say there is nothing like a Parisian wedding in the springtime.” Michael’s voice was trembling, as he spoke. “A proposal, Mr. Dumont?” Janis cocked her eyebrow. “Only, if you say yes.” The look on his face screamed for a yes. Her breath caught in her throat. His hand slid over hers and she felt a tug. When his hand pulled away, she knew dreams did come true. The diamond on her finger told her reality was better than any dream she ever had. Suddenly, Paris in the springtime sounded like heaven, especially if you had your own private Michelangelo to enjoy it with. The best part was for the first time in her life she knew this particular Michelangelo was going to be hers forever. THE END