Lilies and Lies (4 page)

“What happened to Mrs. Johnson's car?”

Gunnar sighed. The poor sedan had been hauled to the junk yard. As Mrs. Johnson watched it disappear over the horizon, her eyes flooded with tears. Apparently, it had belonged to her husband, who'd passed away nearly a decade ago, and its sentimental value was greater than anything she'd garner from the insurance company. Gunnar would make things right with her in replacing the car, though, even if it meant digging into his own pockets to get the job done.

Not that his pockets were endlessly deep. He was sure to lose a bit of business over this fiasco; estimates determined it would take at least two weeks to set things to right again, and he had a ton of red tape to wade through with the insurance company. But at least everything
could
be fixed. Things could be a whole lot worse.

Maddie Cutler could be lying in the morgue instead of a hospital bed. The thought raced chills up Gunnar's spine, bringing front and center the fact that he cared about her more than he ought to. Why, he wasn't sure. Beside the work he'd done on her car and the fact that they'd seen each other only in passing at church the past Sunday or two, they really had no connection.

So, what was the deal?

Gunnar sighed and tried to make sense of it all. For a fleeting moment, he wished he was canine, like Axle, instead of human. Life would sure be a lot simpler. The mutt had settled back onto his blanket beneath the work bench, and he gnawed lazily on the crust of pizza Kyle had tossed his way. Talk about a dog's life.

Bristles rustled in a short, steady cadence as Kyle swept debris from the oil-stained concrete into a pile. Hair spilled across his eyes, hiding them, and Gunnar made a mental note to head to the barber with him as soon as things settled down.

Kyle glanced up mid-stroke. “Have you heard from Wyatt about how Maddie's doing?”

“He called half-an-hour ago. They're going to keep her overnight at the hospital, for observation.”

“I'll bet she's not happy about that.” Kyle reached for the dustpan. “But she had a pretty good bump, looked like Mom after Kurt—” He paused abruptly, lifted his gaze to check Gunnar's expression.

“You can talk about it,” Gunnar murmured. Why not? It had been just that kind of day; might as well finish it off with a bang. “It's good to let things out.”

“I really don't wanna. Not now.” Kyle shook his head as he dragged the broom toward the doorway. “I'm gonna sweep over there, OK?”

“Sure, as long as it all gets done.”

Gunnar watched Kyle go and wondered for the umpteenth time what went on in the kid's head. Sometimes he spewed his thoughts like hot oil, others he was tight as a rusty radiator cap. There was no telling from day to day, hour to hour.

Gunnar thought of his sister, and wondered where she was, what she was doing, and whether she'd caved once again and let Kurt Messer back into her life. The guy was toxic as the day was long, yet she couldn't seem to break free of him. Last she had called she was on her way to California to “make a new life.” What she expected to find there—or not find—Gunnar wasn't sure. But, whatever it was, he hoped Messer wasn't part of the plan.

Regardless, he hadn't heard from Charlene except for an occasional fleeting text in going on a month; neither had Kyle. Her lack of contact had to hurt the kid somewhere deep inside. Gunnar hoped that hurt didn't one day manifest itself in a senseless brush with the law—or worse.

Gunnar hoisted a ladder alongside the injured bay opening, filled his jeans pocket with a handful of small nails, and grabbed a hammer. As he tacked the tarp into place, thoughts of Maddie flooded his mind…Strawberry-blonde hair emblazoned with hints of woven copper, eyes the color of faded denim, a smattering of freckles that danced across the bridge of a slightly-upturned nose…and lips touched by a hint of pale-pink gloss.

The ladder trembled beneath his weight, drawing Gunnar's attention back to the work at hand. He shook his head, chasing visions of Maddie Cutler from his mind. The woman was a mystery, for sure—one he had no time to ponder. He was mired in insurance quotes and police reports, and his brain ached from the seemingly endless slew of questions he'd been required to answer.

Then there was Wyatt to deal with. He'd arrived at the garage blubbering some tale about how he should have never let Maddie take the truck, that the whole mess was his fault.

And Hattie Cutler, well, Gunnar had expected her to be more emotional than the rest, yet she'd surprised him by remaining calm as the eye of a storm. Perhaps raising three sons, not to mention head-strong Maddie, had thickened her skin. Gunnar could only imagine.

And he could only imagine what length of inquisition, both from the law and her family, Maddie had endured while she lay in a hospital bed. If the police were as insistent in her interrogation as they'd been with Gunnar, well…

Gunnar hammered the last of the nails and stepped down from the ladder to survey his handiwork. The tarp would keep out the rain, but not intruders bent on adding a few automotive supplies to their personal collection. That's why he'd asked Sam, his senior mechanic, to spend the night and keep watch over things. Sam had graciously agreed. Tomorrow, when the proverbial dust was cleared, Gunnar would devise a better security plan.

“You finished there, Kyle?” Gunnar called as he hauled the ladder back to the service area and propped it against the wall. Outside, the sun dipped low on the horizon. Four hours since the wave of destruction had hit and, all in all, things didn't look so bad. With the truck and Mrs. Johnson's car towed, the room was clear. And with the floor swept, it simply looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the brick work and the main service island, creating a sort-of convoluted modern art. At least the waiting area and his office had remained undisturbed, and the farthest pair of bays stood just fine, housing the truck and the Mustang. He could continue to service vehicles, although on a limited basis, in them.

“Yes sir, I'm done.” Kyle propped the push-broom against the far wall and swiped a hand across his cheek, leaving behind a smudge of dirt. “What now?”

“Go wash up. We have an errand to run on the way home.”

“Does it include ice cream?”

“Maybe, if you hurry.” The kid was a bottomless pit. Gunnar supposed he'd been the same when he hit his growth spurt at twelve, Kyle's current age. The kid had outgrown every piece of clothing he'd arrived with three months ago. A trip to the mall was in order, and soon. Not exactly Gunnar's kind of rodeo, but he had to consider Kyle now, and learn to adjust to the changes, however distasteful they might be. And, boy…mall-shopping ranked right up there with filing taxes. “And remember your backpack and all your books. I don't want to have to make a return trip here tonight.”

“Got it.” Kyle headed toward the office. “I'll bring what's left of the pizza, too.”

Of course he would. That would fortify them should an unexpected famine sweep the Southeast.

“Come on, Axle.” Gunnar whistled to the dog, whose ears perked up. “Let's go for a ride.”

 

 

 

 

4

 

“Do you need anything?” Kami Moretto—Cutler, now, since she and Wyatt had married just over a year ago—asked as she settled into a chair beside Maddie's hospital bed. “Water, coffee…something to eat?”

“I just want to go home.”

“Tomorrow.” Kami smoothed long, sable hair from her face as her hazel eyes, laced with gold beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room, held tight to Maddie's. “For now, you need to try to relax and get some rest so you can heal.”

“You're the one who needs to rest. You should be home and off your feet. I'm surprised Wyatt let you stay here with me.”

“Nonsense.” Kami flattened a palm against her gently rounded belly, proof of the child due to be born come January. “I'm pregnant, not an invalid.”

“And I have a little bump on my head, not a gaping wound in need of a tourniquet.”

“Only by the grace of God is it just a little bump, Maddie. It could have been so much worse. It's a miracle, really, that you didn't suffer a more serious injury when the truck jackknifed into Gunnar's oil pit.”

Gunnar…after this fiasco, he most likely loathed her. How was she ever going to face him again? Maybe she should just cash it in and move to Kansas.

“Please don't lecture.” Maddie shifted in the bed, feeling naked in the thin hospital gown. She tugged the blankets to her chin and gazed up at the ceiling. “Wyatt has done more than enough of that to last a lifetime.”

“I'll admit, he can be slightly overprotective where you're concerned—”

“
Slightly
?”

“But that's only because he cares about you, Maddie, and it's a big brother's job to protect his baby sister.”

“But, I'm not a baby. I haven't been a baby for decades. I'm twenty-four. I have a master's degree in horticulture, for goodness sake. I lived on my own without his constant meddling for all the years I was away at college, and I managed to do just fine.”

“To Wyatt, you will always be his baby sister.” Kami patted her leg through the blanket. “Deal with it and be thankful. I would have given my right arm for a brother like Wyatt or Reese or Dillon—or simply for a sibling. Being an only child can be lonely.”

“In that case, I hope you're pregnant with twins—or triplets. Expedite the process of building a family.”

“Bite your tongue.”

“Could even be sextuplets,” Maddie teased. “I imagine
that
would divert Wyatt's attention away from me.” She laughed at the look of utter mortification that flashed across her sister-in-law's face. “He'd be
way
too busy changing diapers to lecture.”

Footsteps padded along the tile outside the door. Maddie glanced over just as Gunnar stepped through the doorway with Kyle in tow. His gaze tagged hers, held, and Maddie's breath caught as the room closed in. Her chest tightened as heat danced across her face while a sensor leashed to her hand howled through a string of high-pitched beeps. Maddie snatched the sensor from her left index finger and attempted to bury it in the sheets, which only caused the machine to screech insanely louder.
Good grief!

“Need some help?” Gunnar stepped over to the bed and fished the sensor from the tangled cotton fabric. “Here you go.” He slipped it back onto her finger and the monitor calmed almost immediately. “That's better. How're you feeling, Maddie?”

“I'm…” She could hardly find her voice. He'd come to see her, and he didn't look mad at all. Could he have already forgiven her? The tightness in her chest eased. “I'm fine. I want to go home, but my family is holding me captive.”

“Good for them.”

“You sure did scare us.” Kyle offered her a slight wave and leaned against the far wall, crossing his arms tight over his mid-section as he fidgeted.

He was obviously just as uncomfortable to be here as she was. Why hadn't Gunnar taken him home first? Surely his mother expected him by now on a school night.

“Uncle Gunnar wouldn't go home until he checked on you.”

“Really?” Maddie motioned to the bouquet in Gunnar's hands. “What are those?”

“Oh. I…stopped by the gift shop. I thought you might like a little something to cheer up the room.”

“They're lovely.” Maddie took the colorful mix of carnations and tulips with wisps of freesia, nestled into a green glass vase adorned with a length of splashy orange ribbon tied into a neat bow. “And they smell…delicious.”

“Where would you like me to put them?”

“Here, next to the bed where I can enjoy the fragrance.” She returned the vase to Gunnar, who set it on the side table. “That's so thoughtful of you, Gunnar. I'm…shocked.”

“Why would you be shocked?” He stepped back, surveyed the bounty. “Did you expect me to stop by to blast you…maybe hang you from the ceiling by your toes?”

“On that note…” Kami stood and stretched, offering Maddie a sly little wink. “I think I'm going to head down to the cafeteria for some juice. Do you want to come with me, Kyle?”

“Yeah, sure.” His reply came without a hint of hesitation, like a drowning child rescued with the compassionate toss of a ring buoy. “Do you think they have ice cream?”

“I'm sure they do.” Kami nodded to Gunnar. “Is that OK with you? I'm sure you two have things to…talk about.”

“You could say that.” He reached into his wallet, handed Kyle a twenty. “Make sure you pay, OK?”

“Yes, sir.”

Maddie avoided Kami's teasing smirk as Gunnar settled into the chair she'd just evacuated. They sat together in silence for what seemed a lifetime, before Gunnar finally cleared his throat and broke the ice.

“I'm sorry you got hurt today.”

“I'm sorry I broke your garage.”

“Broke?” He laughed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Could have dropped a bomb in the place and it would have done less damage.”

“Go ahead, rub it in.” Maddie frowned and rolled her eyes. “I suppose I deserve it. But there's not much left to say since Wyatt's already been here to spout his tirade.”

“I'm joking, Maddie.” Gunnar reached for her unencumbered hand. His fingers melded with hers and the warmth soothed. Calluses lined his palm, proof of hard work. “It's OK, really. Everything will get fixed. The place was due for a facelift, anyway. You just expedited the process.”

“In that case, I'm glad to be of service.”

“Your head hurt much?”

“A little throb, that's all. And, now that the shock has worn off, I'm sort of achy all over.” She lifted her left hand as far as the monitor's wire would allow, smoothed the cotton hospital gown. “I must look a fright, though.”