Page 74 of Just Killing Time


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“That’s not what you said on Monday.”

“It’s been a hell of a long week since Monay. For both of us.”

She didn’t deny it.

“What do you say?

She didn’t speak for a long moment, and he risked a quick glance over at her. Caroline stared out the windshield, a slight smile playing about her lips. Then she finally murmured, “Okay, Mick.”

He was so relieved, he closed his eyes and said a quick, silent thanks.

“Eyes on the road, buster, I don’t want to give us a try when we’re dead.”

“I’m surprised I’m not already,” he admitted, giving her a teasing look. “I thought you were going to kill me this week.”

She pursed her lips. “I am spending my days surrounded by murder and mayhem. I just couldn’t decide whether to get you with poison or a raging band of wild dogs.”

After their laughter died down, he admitted, “I’ve been kicking myself all week for Monday morning.”

“I wanted to kick you a few more times myself.”

Man, that was his Caroline. She just wasn’t letting him off the hook. “So, is a simple ‘I’m sorry’ going to suffice?”

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be in this car with you right now.” She looked at him expectantly.

Nope, she wasn’t letting him off the hook until he made it official. You had to love a determined woman. “I’m sorry, Caroline. Really sorry that I was such an ass Monday morning.”

She nodded. “Thanks for saying that. As twisted as your logic was, I did understand it. Eventually, after I stopped wanting to smother you in your bed.”

She didn’t say anything else for a little while. Neither did he. The silence between them wasn’t thick or uneasy. It was charged, expectant, comfortable and excited all at the same time. Then, finally, over the slight hum of the car engine and the sounds of traffic on the road, he began to hear music.

Caroline was humming. He didn’t recognize the tune, but he would bet it was from some happy sitcom. Her favorite type of show.

Remembering that Caroline usually turned to singing or humming when she was stressed, upset or scared out of her mind about something, he chuckled lightly. “It’ll be all right, Caro.” She gave him an appreciative look.

Then, feeling better than he had all week, he began to whistle the tune along with her.

ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Hester handed the last note over to the teenage boy who’d been helping her deliver them. She’d taken care to make sure the glue was nice and tight on the envelope so he couldn’t do any snooping. She’d dropped off the first few notes herself, then passed the task on to Brent to avoid suspicion.

It was an equitable arrangement. He did her the occasional odd job, and she didn’t tell his parents—or the police—that she’d caught him cutting school and smoking marijuana behind the church last year.

“You’re sure this is it? Thelastone?” Brent said.

He looked around nervously as if someone might spot him at the back door of the rectory after dark. Probably afraid some of his hooligan friends might spot him and accuse him of fearing for his sinning soul.

“Yes,” she said. “Take it to the same place you took the one on Wednesday.”

He nodded, then squared his shoulders and looked her in the face. “And this is the end. The end ofeverything?”

There was a challenging glint in the boy’s eye tonight. Hester had noticed it before, but now it was more prominent. A challenging boy could be an angry boy. And an angry boy could be one who told tattletales.

This resource had just about dried up. Fortunately, since she’d soon be gone, that really didn’t matter.

She pasted on a gentle look and patted his shoulder. “Of course, Brent. I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you? That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, is help you learn your lesson. You needed to learn to mend your ways and now I’ve helped you do that.”

His brow pulled down as he puzzled over that one. Probably wondering how being blackmailed—such an ugly word, that—to do chores for her would teach him not to do drugs. He didn’t understand yet. Someday, though, he’d remember and always remind himself of the value of knowing secrets.

She’d probably created a little monster. Not that she really cared.

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