Melody Unchained (9 page)

“That was the last thing that happened. I went down on my knees and then my elbows.”

“Ow. That looks nasty.”

The patrol car arrived and a uniformed officer climbed out. Not Jerry, then. The other paramedic opened a box of first aid stuff.

“How come your boyfriend wasn’t walking you home?”

Melody’s mouth went dry. She could hear the other people talking to the police officer and the other paramedic rifling through the box. The one who was working on her had started dabbing at her elbow with an antiseptic. She clenched her teeth to keep from flinching. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Really? What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?”

“Dan,” his partner muttered.

“I’m serious.” He looked her in the eye. “I am serious. What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?”

“Where are you taking me?” She smiled.

He laughed. “Great.”

“Excuse me, miss. I need some information.” The officer tapped his pen on his notebook. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Melody Welsh.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “Melody Welsh? You must be having a really bad month.”

“Yeah.” Melody watched Dan work in her knees. He had to cut the hole bigger before he could clean out the scrapes. She had liked these jeans.

“Wasn’t Detective Howland handling you?”

Detective Howland? Jerry. “He helped me after my grandfather died.”

“You want me to call him?”

“No.”

Too much anger must have slipped into her voice. Dan drew back and the officer glanced up from his pad. Her three rescuers stopped talking. She might have been imagining it, but she’d have sworn the birds stopped chirping and traffic stopped moving on the main road two blocks away where the coffee shop sat. She pictured everyone in a one mile radius staring at her with their mouths open.

“I don’t have to call in Howland,” the officer said slowly. “Can I have your address?”

Melody answered the rest of his questions while Dan bandaged her knees. Dan told her she should go to the emergency room, but she refused. She didn’t refuse his offer to walk her the rest of the way home so she could give him her number. He wasn’t Jerry. Not solid enough, but he seemed like he might fill the hole for a little while. Tara and Gina, two of the girls from the coffee shop, were always talking about men they had gone out with and men they wanted to go out with. People on television always dated different people too. It was what people, independent people, did. So she would date. Like a normal, independent person.

Chapter 5

Jerry leaned back in his desk chair and stared at the computer screen. Shift’s end and nothing to do. He’d closed every case he’d been assigned this week and filed all the paperwork for the DA’s office. Every night, he’d stayed late to finish up so he didn’t have to go home and look at that stupid brass lamp sitting right where she’d left it that day when she’d stalked him to his house. Between the lamp and Amanda’s pictures, he didn’t even want to go home.

But he couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t deal with another woman who needed him so much that he had to be there for her every moment. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Melody should have her own life. If she’d been a slave for thousands of years–and there was no saying whether she had been or not–she deserved to be free.

“Hey, Howland.” Szabo strolled across the room with his hat under his arm, the image of a perfect patrolman. “I ran into that girl last night.”

“What girl?”

“The girl from Welsh’s closet. His granddaughter, or whatever she was.”

“Melody, she was his granddaughter. What about her?” Melody. Sweet Melody. Szabo must have stopped in the coffee shop to talk to her. He was probably working up to asking her out. That was going to be painful.

“She almost had her purse snatched last night.”

“What?” Jerry shot up out of his chair so fast it rolled into Nulty’s desk. “What do you mean she had her purse snatched? Is she okay? Where did it happen? When?”

“I said almost. She wouldn’t give it up even though he dragged her halfway down the block. Paramedics were on scene when I got there, but the fire station is right around the corner practically.”

“Paramedics?”

“She got scraped up pretty bad. Elbows, knees. She was limping a little when the paramedic walked her home.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jerry started for the door.

“She didn’t want me to.”

Jerry spun around. “What?”

Szabo hadn’t moved from the side of his desk. “I asked her as soon as I recognized her and she was pretty firm about not calling you.”

Jerry’s gut fell through the floor. He’d called her to make sure she was okay. Not yesterday, but the day before. On the phone she’d sounded fine. Making friends and organizing her life. She didn’t sound like she hated him. But to not want to see him when she was in trouble?

“She was pretty tough about the whole thing. Didn’t get hysterical or anything. She didn’t even want to go to the hospital. Just wanted to go home.” Szabo shrugged. “I just thought I ought to tell you.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t hate him, she was just being independent like he told her to. Great advice, moron.

“Sure thing. You want me to make sure I drive past her place and make sure everything’s kosher?”

Jerry nodded. A drive-by. She didn’t even need to know it was happening. That wouldn’t interfere with her independence. “If you could try to time it for when the coffee shop closes, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best.” Szabo strolled out of the room. “See you around, Howland.”

Jerry returned to his desk long enough to shut down his computer. Then he headed out. He needed to see Melody and explain. He’d only meant to pull back so she could learn to live her own life. Maybe she’d heard something in his voice that made her think he didn’t want her. What had they said the day he helped her move? He’d explained to her that he couldn’t be the caretaker for another person. Had she misunderstood that? He’d only meant that he wanted her to live on her own for a while, not that he never wanted to see her again.

But he hadn’t stopped to see her in a week. They had the conversation, had sex, finished moving her out on her own and…

He’d left. Like a jerk.

She had been so fucking angry that he wouldn’t forgive her for getting arrested. Why would he need to forgive her? He hadn’t been upset. It was a pretty logical mistake on her part. When they’d donated Billy’s body to the medical school, she’d started to sign the old coot’s name on that paperwork. She’d always signed Billy’s name. Jerry had had to teach her to sign her own.

He drove to the coffee shop and parked on the street. When he strolled inside, she wasn’t behind the counter so he leaned into the dining room. A couple of guys playing chess. A few people on their computers. A couple more reading while they sipped their coffee. No Melody. He stopped the kid who was wiping down tables.

“Where’s Melody?”

“It’s her day off. You want me to tell her you came by?”

“No, thanks. I’ll stop by her place.”

The kid shrugged. “Sure thing.”

He drove to her apartment. Once upon a time it had been a single family home, now chopped up into three little apartments. Her place was on the second floor. It was a nice little place. From the look of things, it had been the master bedroom before the house was divided up. One big room with a little kitchen, a little bath and an enclosed porch that she was using as a bedroom. It wasn’t as nice as Billy Welsh’s, but it was secure and she could afford it. From his car, he called her. The phone in her apartment rang and rang. She refused to have a cell phone. Claimed they were unnatural.

Jerry sat in the car looking at the house. Knocking at the door would be useless because her apartment door was up a short flight of stairs and down the hall. Even if she did hear it, he’d told her not to answer unless she expected someone to come over. She’d laughed and said that meant she never had to answer the door because she didn’t have any friends to come over.

If he’d paid attention to comments like that for ten seconds, he’d have known not to leave her alone. She was far too vulnerable to handle modern life on her own. He’d been so selfish, wanting to make her stand on her own so she wouldn’t lean on him.

Jerry slouched in the driver’s seat and wished he’d at least bought a cup of coffee to keep him company on this stakeout. All he could do now was sit here and analyze every word they’d said since he opened that interview room door. Maybe he should throw in the towel on this independence experiment. If she stood up to a thief, she wasn’t a shrinking violet. Amanda would have thrown her purse at the man and run in the other direction. No, Amanda hadn’t liked to go out after dark. When she had to stay home alone at night, she’d insisted that a patrol car stop at the house to make sure she was okay and she’d walked around with the cordless phone in her pocket. Melody hadn’t blinked at the thought of walking home alone after dark.

Tonight, when she got home from where ever she was, he was going to tell her he’d changed his mind. He wanted her with him. Where he could protect her.

Long after he’d run out of all his favorite stakeout games and started inventing new ones, a car parked half a block away. A guy got out. Young, athletic. Bringing his girl home from a date. Hoping to get inside her apartment tonight, or at least to get the promise of another date. Jerry couldn’t even remember being that young. Right now he felt older than God. The young stud bounded to the other side and opened the passenger door.

Melody climbed out.

The guy put his arm over her shoulders as he guided her up the stairs to the outside door of her place. They were talking and laughing. Melody wore one of her old dresses that covered her elbows and knees. It looked like something Jackie Kennedy would have worn. Melody didn’t have on a pillbox hat though. Instead she had her hair pulled up in a clip. It spilled down her back, as shiny and black as oil. She looked elegant and confident and happy. So incredibly beautiful it made his heart hurt. Even the careful way she walked didn’t mar the picture.

This was his own fault. He’d let her go.

The guy walked her up to her door, and Melody allowed the young man a sweet kiss. Jerry’s mouth watered, remembering what her lips felt like on his, the way her body had curled to his. The guy watched her go inside and then bounded down the stairs, grinning like he’d scored something. He hadn’t been allowed in the apartment so he must have gotten another date. Bastard.

* * * *

Melody tiptoed through the bedroom to peek out the bedroom window. It had to be Jerry’s car. He was watching her. Still. Did he plan to sit out there all night? Why was he here at all? Should she go out and talk to him?

Her date with Dan had been nice. He was a good enough person. Funny and charming, but he wasn’t Jerry. He didn’t have Jerry’s solid strength or calm. When Dan touched her, she didn’t feel the same spark. He was pleasant and she was sure they could be great friends, but she couldn’t imagine choosing to make love to him.

She sat down on her bed. She liked her little apartment. It was the first place that was really her own. As a young wife, she had lived in the tents of her husband’s family. Since then she had been in whatever living arrangements her masters had. Many times she had changed those arrangements for them. When Jerry first brought her here, he had apologized because it was so small, but she had thought it the perfect size for a woman alone.

But she wouldn’t miss it. Not as much as she missed Jerry.

She put her keys in her pocket on her way out the door. Jerry’s car was still parked where she had seen it earlier and she watched him slouch down further in the driver’s seat as she approached. Did he think he could hide? Why would he want to? She knocked on the window. “You can wish to be invisible all you want. I can’t grant wishes any more. What are you doing here?”

Jerry climbed out of the car. “I heard you had a little trouble. Somebody tried to steal your purse.” He touched her chin with two fingers to turn her face to the side. The touch of his fingers was heavenly. “Are you okay?”

“He didn’t get my purse.”

“If somebody tries to take your purse, you should let them. You never know when your attacker is going to be violent.”

Melody’s chest tightened. He’d avoided her for a week and now he came around to scold her? “It is my purse.”