Chapter Sixteen

Gibson

The skies had clouded up by the time we made it back to Tilly. A distant rumble of thunder threatened, and I began to worry about the road conditions.

"You'll be all right driving home if it starts to pour?"

Sacha gave me an exasperated look. "I drive all over the state four days a week. I think I can handle a little rain."

"Just checking. You're carrying precious cargo now, darlin'." I threw in the endearment to be sarcastic, but she smiled. As I pulled up alongside her car, she touched my arm.

"Don't worry about me, I mean…us. We'll be fine."

"Will you let me know when you get home, then?"

"Yes, dear."

Now she was being sarcastic, but I liked it. Better than her ice queen routine.

She unlocked her car and turned to face me. Right there in the street, I kissed her, a long, slow, sensuous, final claiming of her mouth. I wanted her to think about it all the way home.

She didn't resist this time, despite her earlier protests. I didn't care who saw us-I was going to hold her for as long as she let me. When I looked down at her, I saw longing and desire, and maybe a touch of regret in those cat-green eyes. Did she regret our hooking up or the fact she now had to leave?

She pulled away and I released her. Her voice also had a touch of regret. "I better go."

"I know."

I stood on the sidewalk and watched her car disappear down the street. I had my own regrets, but I'd spent the night making love to her, and that I would always remember.

Rain splattered the windshield as I made my way back up the mountain. The gravel road would soon be muddy, and I wanted to get home before the downpour. As I drove, I replayed in my mind every minute with Sacha. I wanted to savor it in case it never happened again.

Despite that possibility, I was in a pretty good mood. Even the gloomy turn of the weather didn't bother me. The image of Sacha beneath me, crying out, was enough to make me smile through any storm.

Better check on the old man…

I'd ignored Marvil the past few days since I'd been entertaining. As I rounded the last curve before Marvil's cabin, I saw a flash of light. I glanced at the sky, but the lightning had abated. The rain was coming down in buckets now, so it was hard to see. But there was no mistaking the bright red glare from the ambulance parked at Marvil's place.

"Holy hell," I cursed, pulling up near the porch. The front door of the cabin was open and Edna was standing on the porch, wringing her hands. The paramedics must be inside.

I parked, and as I ran through the rain to the porch, I could hear a police siren in the distance. I reached Edna, whose face was red and puffy from crying. "What happened?"

Tears spilled from her eyes, and she wiped them with her sleeve. "Oh, Mr. Gib. He's gone."

~*~

Two hours later, I opened the door to my empty, dark cabin. The sky was still heavy with rain clouds, though the downpour had eased. A sad, steady rain beat a tattoo on the tin roof, echoing the drumming in my ears. I had a hell of a headache, so I put on some coffee and went in search of an aspirin.

Marvil's death was caused by a myocardial infarction, the medics said. A heart attack. Edna had found him on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket with the television blaring. He'd been wearing pajamas with cartoon characters on them and the slippers that looked like bear paws. It would have been comical if he were still alive. The man everyone called "The Grouch" had a sense of humor, after all.

When the coffee was made, I sat on the back deck, staring at the rain. I couldn't imagine life in Tilly without my cranky friend. I knew it wasn't my fault, the heart attack would have happened anyway, but I couldn't help feeling guilty for not checking on the guy earlier. Surely Sacha wouldn't have minded.

Still, it didn't ease the lump in my throat or the twisting in my gut. It was beginning to feel like death was following me. Maybe if I had checked on Marvil, I'd have been able to help him, to save his life. Who knew how long he'd been sitting there?

First thing in the morning, I was going to call Marvil's attorney to discuss what needed to be done. I had no idea if Marvil had a will or who the executor was, but Marvil had given me the man's name and contact information, so I would do what I could to help.

The coffee tasted bland, or maybe it was me. I sat on the bench where I had been with Sacha just the night before. But instead of her warm body, in my mind I saw another woman, one who was cold and lifeless. Images of Bianca's funeral flashed unbidden in my mind, no doubt triggered by Marvil's passing.

I allowed a tear to slide down my cheek before getting up and going to the kitchen. In a cabinet, way up high, was a bottle of Scotch. I pulled it down and poured a hefty dose into my half-empty coffee cup. I downed the hot liquid in one gulp then poured another shot. This time I sipped as I walked back onto the deck, bottle in one hand and the mug in the other.

It was going to be a long night.

~*~