Dangerous Intentions Read online

  “Sure. Just need to run down to the cafeteria first. You’re welcome to join us.” She smiled, but it was a little difficult. The last hour she’d worked with him had been torture, and the prospect of spending more time with him today might just kill her. And then there was next week, and the week after that, and the week… She headed for the door. “Come on. You can help me make the pizza.”

  They took the elevator to the first floor, and she led the way to the cafeteria. “Hey, Pat,” she called to the lone worker at the front counter as she went through the swinging door to the kitchen and held it open for Dex.

  “Hi, Shelly. I set all the stuff in the fridge for you. Even made the dough since it was slower than shit today. Oh, hi,” she said when she rounded the display and saw Dex.

  “Pat, Pete Dexler. He’s joining us for pizza.”

  Pat grinned. “I know Pete. Don’t suppose you remember me, do you?”

  Dex grinned. “Moving up in the world, huh? Now it’s sick people not snot-nosed kids.”

  Pat laughed and laid her hand on his shoulder. “I heard you were home. You’re lookin’ good, young man.” She turned to Shelly. “I was the lunch lady at Cooper Valley High for about a hundred years before the hospital opened.”

  Shelly never would have guessed the sprightly, slightly overweight cafeteria worker was anywhere near old enough to have been a lunch lady at the school when Dex was there. She must have been just out of school herself.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself, Ms. Clinton.” He winked at the woman, and Pat turned pink and giggled. Giggled! Like a teenager. It was becoming obvious Shelly wasn’t the only woman in town totally taken by him.

  “It’s Mrs. Wrightman now.”

  Dex’s eyes widened. “You married old man Wrightman?”

  She laughed. “He was only old to you kids. He’s just five years older than me.” Again addressing Shelly, she said, “Old man Wrightman is CVH’s history teacher.”

  Shelly nodded then shook her head and grinned. “Gotta love little towns. You two catch up. I’ll go put the pizza in the oven.”

  “No, no.” Pat patted Dex’s shoulder. “You go help Shelly. I’ve got some cleaning to do.” And then she did this big, exaggerated wink at Dex and tipped her head in Shelly’s direction.

  Dex laughed. “I’ll stop by after one of my sessions next week, and we can visit.”

  “I’d like that. Welcome home, soldier.”

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice softening. Then he moved his chair toward Shelly, and they went into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind them.

  “Please ignore the winks and…stuff. Everyone at this hospital who I consider a friend seems to want to set me up lately.” She went to the industrial refrigerator against the far wall and pulled it open. “I swear I must be the only single woman in town.”

  “Pretty close to,” Dex said. “At least in our age group.”

  She lifted out the pizza pan that Pat had stacked all the ingredients on and kicked the door shut with her foot. “The pushing forty crowd?” she asked wryly as she set the pan on the stainless steel counter in the middle of the kitchen.

  He wheeled up across the counter from her. “Yes. The age at which women come into their own, know what they want, and are ripe for—” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should change the subject.”

  She couldn’t think of a better idea than that. “Sounds like a plan. Wash your hands.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He wheeled over to the sink and washed up, then using just his feet, pushed his chair back to the counter.

  After she washed her hands, she unwrapped the dough and started kneading it into the pizza pan. “Since Pat did all the prep work, you can put the stuff on when I’m done.”

  Dex picked up the tied-off baggies of toppings. “Why does this look strange?”

  “Well. Let’s just say that I don’t really enjoy eating the pizza I make for them,” she admitted. “But they love it because it only comes along every couple of weeks.”

  “What is it?”

  She pointed at the dough. “Gluten-free.” Picking up the small container of red sauce, she said, “Low acid, no-salt, tomato puree.”

  “Sounds like low-flavor too.”

  With a nod she pointed to the cheese. “Lactose-free imitation mozzarella of some kind. I’m not sure what’s in it, or even where the hospital buys it, but it’s what Charlie can eat. And the pepperoni slices are vegetable based, very low-fat, and kind of turns the consistency of cardboard when baked.”

  Dex chuckled. “Yumm-my.”

  Shelly laughed and spread the sauce over the dough. “Okay, sprinkle the cheese and make the pepperoni into a smiley face.”

  Dex followed her directions. He even added a couple extra slices of pepperoni so it looked like Smiley stuck out his tongue.

  “Cute.”

  He grinned up at her. “How’d you get involved with the kids?”

  She picked up the pie, stuck it in the oven, and set the timer. While washing her hands again, she answered, “I’d worked here for a couple of months, and because I didn’t know anyone, I pretty much stuck to myself and the rehab wing. I got restless one day during lunch and decided to look around. Neil was here then. He was so cute. Paralyzed from the neck down and on a breathing tube, but he looked up at me and grinned, and I fell madly in love. When I found out he was totally alone, I started visiting a few times a week, just to give him another face to look at.” She shrugged and leaned against the sink. “Like any hospital, kids come and go, except Neil. Babs has been here about seven months, and Charlie’s been here over a year now.”

  “Charlie and Babs have a pretty good outlook on life, considering where they are and why.” Dex rubbed his forehead and looked away. “Thank you for giving me the kick in the ass I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself.”

  She smiled at him and gave a little nod. “My pleasure.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure of that.”

  Shelly wiped down the counter. “You are allowed to feel sorry for yourself now and then. It’s part of recovery. It’s just not good when it hampers that recovery.”

  “I thought today went well.”

  “It did.” She grinned. “You followed orders.”

  With a nod, he conceded, “For a Marine, I’m not real good with that.”

  “At least not from a civilian, right? Or is it that I’m a civy woman?”

  “Whoa, hold on there. It’s got nothing to do with your sex. One of the most hard-ass COs I ever had was a woman. Maybe you reminded me of her,” he added with a chuckle. “Hated her with a passion.”

  Passion. Shelly felt that all right. And the more they chatted away, the more it grew. When the timer dinged, it was with great relief she pulled the pizza from the oven and sliced it. She then pulled a lone pizza box from the top of a metal shelving unit and slid the pie inside.

  “Didn’t realize the hospital did takeout,” Dex said with a raised eyebrow as he eyed the box.

  “Shh. The kids don’t know I make it here. They think it’s from the pub.”

  “The Ranch House doesn’t do pizza either.”

  “And if you tell them that, I will kill you.”

  Dex laughed. “Understood.”

  When they reached the children’s ward, Bethie motioned them over to the desk instead of just waving them on.

  “What is it?” Shelly asked, her chest tightening in fear. Bethie never called her over to chat.

  “Babs isn’t doing well today,” the nurse said softly. “And Charlie’s not handling it well.”

  “How bad?”

  “Doctor thinks she might have to go back on dialysis as soon as tomorrow. She’s in some pain, too, so she’s on medication and kind of out of it.”

  Shelly nodded. “Maybe the pizza will cheer Charlie up, and I’ll sit with Babs for a while. She looked at Dex. “You hang out a bit?”

  He nodded. “However long you need.”

  She turned and headed into the kids
’ room, plastering a smile on her face. “Hey, Charlie! It’s pizza day!”

  He jumped off his bed and ran to her, throwing his arms around her so hard she almost dropped the pizza box. “Babs is sick again,” he said against her hip as he buried his face against her.

  “I know, kiddo. Why don’t we have some pizza, and then we’ll watch a movie, okay?”

  “’K. She’s going to die,” he whispered.

  “Not today, she’s not,” Shelly said with confidence. “Come on.” She led him to the little table and chairs to one side of the room and set the pizza down. “You and Mr. Dexler have some pizza and show Mr. Dexler how to feed some bites to Neil, too, okay? I’ll go see to Babs.”

  Dex made a comical face at her, but his eyes were serious as he nodded. “Charlie and Neil can entertain me for a while, I’m sure.”

  Shelly went to Babs’ bed and lowered the guardrail on one side. “Hey, kiddo. Nurse Brighton says you feel yucky.”

  Babs slowly nodded. Her eyes were dull, yet glassy, an eerie sight Shelly never grew used to no matter how many ups and downs Babs went through. “Will you hold me?” Babs asked in a quivery, weak voice that broke Shelly’s heart.

  “Of course, I will. Should I put on a movie first?”

  Babs nodded. “Cinderella.”

  Cinderella was Babs’ favorite. Shelly couldn’t count the number of times they’d watched the old VHS tape or read the book together. “Cindy it is.” Shelly found the tape on the toy shelf, slipped it into the VCR, and pulled the rolling TV stand closer to Babs’ bed. “You boys can join us when you’re done eating,” she called across the room.

  Babs moved to the far side of the little bed as Shelly raised the back into a more upright position, and then Shelly stretched out next to her. The little girl curled up against her, resting her head on Shelly’s shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder to see Dex and Charlie slowly raising Neil’s bed in order to feed the little boy.

  “Remember. Small bites,” she said.

  Neil grinned when he was upright and could see more of the room. “Pitta day,” he said in his baby talk.

  “That’s right, slugger,” Dex said as he lifted a slice of the pizza from the table Charlie had dragged across the room. “You want some pizza?”

  “Pitta.”

  The music started on the movie, and Babs tilted her head up to look at Shelly. “I have to go back to dialysis tomorrow.”

  “I know, hon.”

  “Could you put more music on my mp3 player, please? I’m tired of what’s on it, and I hate sitting in dialysis.”

  “I’ll take it home with me tonight.”

  Babs snuggled back down and laid her arm over Shelly’s waist. “Charlie thinks I’m going to die. Do you?”

  Shelly was glad Babs couldn’t see her face because it took all she had to fight back the tears. “Not today, you’re not.”

  “No. Not today.”

  Chapter Five

  Hours later, the ride to Dex’s house was silent. Shelly was right on the edge of losing it, and Dex seemed to understand she wasn’t up to talking. She helped him to his door through the new snow, though it was obvious someone had shoveled his walkway at some point during the day.

  “Thanks for the ride,” he said once he was on the porch.

  “No problem. Give me a call at the hospital on Monday if you need transportation. If I can’t get away, I’ll get someone to pick you up.”

  He nodded. “Appreciate it. Have a good weekend.”

  “Yeah. You too.” She turned and walked away, needed to blink a few extra times to keep the tears from totally blurring her vision. Dex had been so good with the boys today. He and Charlie had fed Neil, and then Bethie had come in and moved Neil’s bed so he could watch the movie with them. Charlie had climbed up on Dex’s lap and fallen asleep sometime around when Prince Charming swept Cinderella off her feet at the ball.

  Her heart hurt. Her head hurt a little. And she didn’t want to be alone tonight. When she got to her car, she turned back to see Dex still sitting on his porch under the lone light. He raised his hand and waved.

  She returned the gesture, climbed into her truck, and drove home feeling emptier inside than she had in ages. Babs was dying. Everyone knew it, including the little girl. It was only time. Maybe months, maybe not that long. What would Charlie do once she was gone? She was his only playmate.

  What would Shelly do once they were all gone? She knew that was selfish of her to think, but it was true. They’d become part of her heart.

  She pulled into the garage, killed the engine, and shut the garage door. She was so tired. They’d stayed until the end of visiting hours, not that they had to leave, but they’d needed the excuse for the kids who hadn’t wanted them to go.

  Her purse felt as if it weighed a ton as she dragged it across the driver’s seat, and she got out. She flipped on the kitchen light and dropped her purse and keys on the table as she went through. The scent of flowers hit her when she stepped into the living room. Frowning, she wondered why. The air freshener she used was Hawaiian breeze scent, not…roses? She moved across the darkened living room and turned on the lamp sitting on the end table.

  Her blood ran cold.

  She stared at the huge bouquet of blood-red roses sitting on her coffee table only long enough to realize one of those ivory stalker envelopes was stuck in the bouquet.

  She turned on her heel and ran back through the living room and kitchen, grabbing her keys and purse off the table as she went. She dashed into the garage, jumped into her truck while at the same time hitting the button to raise the garage door. She slammed her car door, hit the automatic door locks, and floored the vehicle, squealing her tires as she tore out into the quiet street.

  Her heart thudded so hard, she felt it would choke her. She threw the car into Drive and took off down the snowy street while digging into her purse for her cell phone. She fumbled it out of her bag, flipped it open, and hit the speed dial. Her hand shook so bad it took three tries to hold down number 3. Finally, she brought it to her ear as she glanced from mirror to mirror trying to see if someone followed her.

  “The caller ID says this is Shelly, but she never uses her cell phone so—”

  “Celeste! Celee, is Paul there?”

  “What’s wrong?” Celeste asked, her tone instantly changing from teasing to serious.

  “I need Paul. He was in my house.”

  “Paul was in your house?”

  “No!” she cried. “The guy! He was in my house!”

  She heard fumbling over the line. “This is Paul,” he said in his calm, deep voice.

  Shelly didn’t calm to it though. “The stalker was in my house.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.” She stopped at the red light and searched her mirrors. “Sometime today. He left roses and another letter.”

  “Where are you? Are you safe?”

  “I’m in my car driving around town. I ran out when I saw them. What if he’s still there?”

  “I’m on my way, Shelly. And I’ll call the patrolmen on duty. We’ll check the house.”

  “Th-thank you,” she said through a shiver.

  “You did good getting out of there, Shell. Here, talk to Celeste. I’ll call her when we get to your place, and you can meet us there.”

  “’K.”

  “Are you okay?” Celeste asked.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” No she wasn’t… “Oh, God. He was in my house!”

  “I know, Shell. Paul’s right. You did good getting out. Where are you?”

  “I’m on Cooper Valley Way. Going to circle back around to my house to meet Paul there. No one’s following me. The streets are practically deserted tonight.” Her heartbeat settled a little, and the icy fear subsided some. Now she felt a little nauseous. Her sanctuary had been invaded. Her cute little bungalow she’d loved since she first laid eyes on it a month after she’d moved to Cooper Valley.

  “Paul will get him, you know,” Celeste sai
d. “Especially now. There has to be more evidence if he busted into your house.”

  Shelly didn’t hold her breath. The guy’s fingerprints weren’t in any system. Unless they found him in her house, it was back to square one…again. “Yeah, I know,” she said, letting Celeste think she believed it. It had been bad enough when he’d invaded her office, but this was her home.

  “I see flashing lights up ahead. The cops are already at my house.”

  “Okay, hon. Call me if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks for being there.”

  She closed the phone and dropped it in her purse as she pulled up and parked at the curb behind a black and white police cruiser with its lights flashing. Lights were on all over her house, so she sat and waited, praying the guy had been inside and would be caught so an end could be put to all this creepy stuff.

  A few minutes later, the officers and Paul came out of the house, but they weren’t towing anyone in handcuffs. Damn. One carried a big plastic bag, and she assumed it held the flowers.

  She turned off the truck and got out as they came down the walkway.

  “The place is empty,” Paul said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’d run out of his house in nothing warmer than a leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers. “He busted a lock on the window in your den and got in that way. There’re depressions in the snow around the side of the house and below the window, but with it coming down this hard, it’s probably been several hours since he was here, and there are no discernable tracks to photograph. They’re dusting for prints now.”

  “The only thing we can see out of place is the flowers and this.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag containing the ivory stationery and envelope.

  Shelly’s stomach turned over.

  “You want to read it?”

  She shook her head. Then nodded. Squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know.” But she held out her hand to take it.

  Paul set the bag in her hand. He’d obviously already read it, since the envelope had been opened and the stationery was unfolded. It was easy to see in the light from the streetlamp overhead.