Blue Maneuver (2 page)

Pink rays bathed his aquiline nose and accented his strong jaw line. His long lashes painted spiky shadows across the bridge of his nose. “You keep repeating fine. Perhaps medical attention is in order.”

I shook my head harder. My pony tail slapped my shoulder blades and my bangs escaped the sweatband. “I don’t live far.”

There. I forced a smile on my stiff cheeks. Not a fine in the bunch.

“Its no—” He jerked to a stop before rearing back.

Wow! I never had any rebuff be that effective. I—
Wait a minute
. His attention wasn’t on me. My gaze followed his line of sight. He stared at the same spot where I tripped. My stomach knotted and cold brushed my skin. I inched closer to him. Adrenalin reduced my aches to white noise.

What had I tripped over?

Swearing, Mr. Parks and Rec’s boots pounded on the gravel.

I slid one foot forward and rose on tip-toe. Something pale lay in the high grass and weeds. Despite the shadowy dawn, the sight seemed familiar. Yet my brain refused to identify it. A little closer and I would see…

The truck door creaked open, there was a click and a cone of light cut across the object.

I almost laughed. A face. It was a face. I blinked. Holy Toledo! It was a stiff face! The eyes didn’t blink, the flat nostrils didn’t flare and the lips were bluish. My sluggish brain finally connected the dots. “He’s dead!”

Who knew that year my parents had managed a hospice would come in handy? No, death didn’t shock me. Except that his eyes were open, he seemed to be sleeping. But something seemed off with this death.

Without saying a word, Mr. Parks and Rec strode toward the corpse.

“Hey! Don’t touch him. He’s evidence.” I patted my shorts. Phone. Where was my phone? It must have fallen out during my swan dive.

Mr. Parks and Rec grabbed one of the plants piled atop the body and tossed it aside.

“Stop it. That’s evidence.” I took a step forward then stopped. Okay, I’m not a death weenie, but guys didn’t collapse along a jogging trail then bury themselves under a mound of weeds. “We need to call the cops.”

Good plan. I refrained from patting myself on the back. Too bad he didn’t listen.

Mr. Parks and Rec knelt next to the body. “He might still be alive.”

And I thought I had the optimism market cornered. My mouth dropped open, before I snapped it shut. People dealt with death in different ways. Maybe he couldn’t stand the idea of a jogger eating the big enchilada in his park. I took a deep breath. I’d helped family members accept loss before. “Look, I know—”

When Mr. Parks and Rec lifted the next weed off the body, three fireflies rose into the air. Their pale blue light washed over his rugged features. “Good. They’re still here.”

I snapped my jaw shut and my skin tightened. When did Phoenix get fireflies? And why were they blue?

I stepped back and crushed something under my heel. Oh snap, not my cell! I winced at the crinkling noise and looked down. An aluminum can folded against my sneaker. Surely, this is more bad Karma than I’ve earned in this lifetime. Maybe Mr. Parks and Rec and his blue light show hadn’t noticed. Shaking off the can, I peeked at them from under my lashes.

Mr. Parks and Rec’s eyes lasered on me like his next target and the lights…they buzzed back and forth.

My stomach cramped. This was so not good. Maybe I should just leave.

One of the blue lightning bugs broke away from the trio and zipped toward me.

“No!” Mr. Parks and Rec’s shout jangled along my nerves and raised the hair on my arms.

The bug showed no sign of having heard, let alone stopping. I waved my hands hoping to fend it off. It darted around and dived into my shoulder.

Into
my shoulder.

“What in the world?” My shoulder glowed blue for a moment then the pain blossomed like a mushroom cloud. Waves of heat rippled through me, each one hotter than the next. Holy cow! I think I heard my brain sizzle.

The two remaining lightning bugs darted toward me.

Run
!

Sounded like a plan to me. I could call the cops from the safety of my own home. I spun on my heel. The motion jarred my arm, and the burning sensation engulfed my chest. Home. I needed to get home. Through the weeds and over the sidewalk. Thorns scratched at my legs as I plunged into the overgrowth.

“Don’t run!”

Yeah, like that’s going to happen. I was an optimist not an idiot. I focused on the bright yellow concrete columns like goal posts. Leaping over a knot of weeds, I landed in a mud puddle. Water sprayed in every direction and invaded my shoes. I stepped out of the mud with a slurping noise and reached cracked asphalt.

I’m close. Just a little further and maybe I’ll avoid those lightning bugs high on pixie dust.

Something hit the back of my left thigh. Stinging spread from the point of impact and an inferno of heat chased after it.

Darn it! That’s twice the suckers have stung me. When I get home, I’m gonna douse myself with bug spray! I cleared the columns. My sneakers sunk into the mud. Twigs bent under foot as I ran.

Fiery pain wrapped around my head. I felt like a human torch. Black tainted my vision, edging out the familiar surroundings.

Keep going. You can make it
. My internal cheerleader grew fainter and fainter.

I sprinted on. Funny how the bug bites didn’t affect my coordination.

The last bug slammed into the back of my head.

Blackness consumed my vision and I stumbled. Aw snap! If I’d known I was going to take this many trips, I would have packed! My right knee hit the ground first. Where was the pain? Had the last bug been a good bug? My thoughts disappeared under a tidal wave of nothingness.

I struggled in that murky place between sleep and waking, awareness and oblivion. Rolling over to put out the heat licking my back, I groaned. Please God, don’t let the air-conditioner be broken! I couldn’t afford another bill. Hair tickled my nose and cheek. I brushed it away but it came back, stirred no doubt in the breeze of the overhead fan.

I snuggled deeper into my soft mattress, putting off facing another day of frantic unemployment and plain oatmeal. Out of sheer cussedness, the sheets felt clammy against my skin and smelled faintly of dank grass. I blocked the unpleasantness.

It refused to be blocked.

Shaking my head, I struggled to sit up. Nausea chugged up my throat and pink dusted my closed eyes.

While the world bucked and swayed, my brain clasped at the bobbing thoughts. Not my room at all. And… Pictures scrolled inside my head, accompanied by the pounding of gremlins and the rumble of an engine. The park. The dawn. More images—each led to another like pearls on a string. Mr. No Show Personal Trainer. The near splits on the sidewalk, Mr. Parks and Rec and…

And the dead body.

“Oh, God!” I tasted last night’s nuked dinner of shoe-leather parmesan and gagged on the lump before I managed to swallow it down. Some things should only be experienced once, even if they did cost a budget friendly ninety-nine cents.

Stop procrastinating, Rae. Your feet are propped up on a dead body
. Another thought hovered in the fog clouding my mind. Its presence lingered like a malevolent stalker, but I couldn’t glimpse more than an impression. Sighing, I opened my eyes and glanced at my feet.

A log.

My feet were propped up on a log. Laughter bubbled on my lips. I moved my legs. Rough black bark ripped away from the bone-white trunk and scratched at the exposed skin above my ankles. Good heavens, it had been a dream.

All a dream.

Truck tires crunched gravel. From the corner of my eye, I watched Mr. Parks and Rec drive out of the horseshoe-shaped lot. A few branches and mounds of black garbage bags bounced in the open truck bed. At least, he hadn’t witnessed this humiliation.

I reached up to brush my bangs out of my eyes. Just as my fingers skimmed my forehead, pain blitzed my nervous system. My brain sloshed around and my eyes ping-ponged inside my skull. Idiot! Pulling back, I explored the fringes of the knot.

Mother Goose must have laid an egg on my forehead, when I’d tripped. But why had I fallen? I was much too careful to stumble over a tree. I glared at the large limb, basking in the dawn like a black and white crocodile on the river of green.

Obviously my rational mind had been affected by frustration. It couldn’t be Karma. Nothing I’d done would deserve this. And now my body would have to pay the price on the long slog back to my condo. I set my hands on the ground. Muck oozed between my fingers. As I levered myself up, static crackled inside my skull. The world dipped and swayed on the personal Tilt-A-Whirl that made up my equilibrium.

Ugh! Maybe I could unscrew my head and pack it in foam, before attempting to stand again. Maybe Prince Charming would ride to my rescue and carry me home.

What I wouldn’t give for a do-over. I closed my eyes, while my insides quivered in the aftershocks of my movements. The battle of the metal bands raging inside my skull prevented any thinking—positive or otherwise. How on Earth could I walk from here to my condo without moving?

Fly? Like that was going to happen. I sighed and my chin dipped. The world shuddered, measuring about twelve on the Richter scale. “Oh, God!”

“Women usually only call me that, after we’ve met.” A man’s voice rasped against my nerve endings.

Smooth, rich and deep, just the way I liked my chocolate. Had the head banging caused hallucinations? A shadow blocked out the pink sunlight shining across my closed lids moments before an acrid odor mingled with a musky scent. Male. My nose twitched.

My imagination wasn’t good enough to conjure up a picture.

Maybe I’d switch from positive thinking to positively avoiding more than my quota of bad events.

Grass shushed and the shadow fell away from my eyes.

Had he left? No, I turned my head slightly. A punk metal band joined the jamboree inside my skull. Still my ears didn’t detect any sound. Yet I felt him move closer. Man, the guy was quiet.

“Can you open your eyes,
obecht
?”

Obecht
. The exotic word swirled around me and sliced through the pounding. Did it mean my love, or beautiful, or honey bunch? Fingers swept over my brow. How I dreamed of having a man’s caresses explore my dips and curves as if he were an artist and I his greatest sculpture. Calloused fingertips traced my cheek then ran lightly over my jaw. Pleasure skittered through me, sowing warmth that liquefied my muscles.

Part of me screamed to fight the spell he’d woven around me and reminded me that I was alone in the park at dawn. Primetime crime hour. For once, I could see why others found the rational part of me annoying. Besides, I needed help to get home.

“
Obecht
, you must open your eyes.” Steel laced the velvet chocolate voice. His touches morphed into insistent probes. One finger lifted my eyelid.

Light penetrated my skull, obliterating my view. Fear shoved into the vacant spaces created by my blindness. Could a whack on the head really knock the sense from me? I pulled free of his touch. Once I was certain I wouldn’t vomit, I opened my eyes. My heart thumped against my ribs.

The man was a shadow, no discerning features at all. Adrenalin chased fear’s chill from my skin. I had to get out of here. Back to the safety of my condo. To the presence of other people. Flattening my palms against the gunk on the ground, I pushed myself up. My muscles wobbled and I landed with a splat. Oops, I’d forgotten the whole ‘needing help’ bit.

“Easy.” He shifted, not further away as my fear wanted but closer to me. So close, I felt the heat emanating from his skin. “I’m just going to support you so you don’t sustain further injury. Okay?”

My stomach performed crazy acrobatics, while the world spun. I could use support. I could use a lift home. I blinked in the dim light and made out his broad shouldered silhouette.

I had asked for help.

And here it was.

Something told me I would never get home if I refused it. “Okay.”

“Let me know when you’ve recovered.” The deep timbre of his voice blanketed my fear like a balm and his arm settled around my shoulders. His fingers stroked my spine briefly, before tickling my nape and slipping under my hair to massage my scalp.

Hmm. That felt nice. The vestiges of my fear melted away, leaving only a building ache inside me. When was the last time a man had taken care of me? I wasn’t surprised when my memories turned up empty. Maybe being strong and independent was overrated, if it deprived me of massages.

Even if they were by a complete stranger who banished rational thoughts with his caresses and held me awfully close. A fissure of alarm bubbled up. Stranger, smanger. Someone who smelled like sunshine and soap couldn’t be all bad.

“We’ll just stay right here, until the nausea passes.” Peppermint-scented words stirred the hair on my neck.

“Nausea?” Was that my voice? It sounded a bit rusty and lower than normal. It definitely didn’t match the one inside my head. And just what had the man seen? Good grief! Didn’t witnesses to my humiliation have an occupancy limit?

“You’ve got a knot on your forehead.” His fingers gently combed through my hair.

I wanted to ask if he’d been watching me, but couldn’t summon the words. Instead I focused on the pleasure hemming in the pain. I could play Damsel in Distress.

“You didn’t pass out, did you?”

A glimmer of self-preservation stopped me, before I nodded. “I don’t know. I definitely had the wind knocked out of me.”

I straightened then waited for my head to settle on an even keel. Never had I been this affected by a simple fall. What if my brain was swelling? What if I went to bed and woke up dead? Should I call for an ambulance? See a doctor? Crap on a cracker! I didn’t have insurance to pay for an emergency room visit and there was the matter of getting there. I seriously doubted I should drive, even if I owned a car.

But I wasn’t helpless; I could Dial-a-Ride. Phone. I patted the flat pockets of my shorts. My cell must have slipped out, when I’d tripped. But where had it gone?