Convicted Page 8

  Lisa stopped trying to think. She closed her eyes and just let herself feel. Three years ago, Deacon Campbell had been her first thought upon waking and her last upon going to bed at night.

  What had happened that night at The Circle K?

  "Maybe," she said, in a voice that sounded dreamy and far away. "Maybe it could have been someone else...."

  The door to her office flew open with a bang. Startled, Lisa opened her eyes as violently as the door. Allegra fell into the room clutching at the doorknob.

  "Were you eavesdropping?" Lisa got up from her chair. "Allegra, were you listening to us?"

  It was a rare occasion when Al couldn't think of anything to say, but now all she did was open and close her mouth and stammer feeble excuses. Equally as rare were times when Al seemed to actually feel guilt for her outrageous behavior, but now thankfully seemed one of those times. Lisa was irate.

  "What on earth is wrong with you?" she cried. "I've had enough, Al, I really have! Are you crazy?"

  "Don't you call me that," Allegra said, finally pulling herself together.

  "I think I'd better go." Deacon gathered his papers and files and moved past Allegra out the door. "Lisa, I'll talk to you later."

  Damn. "Allegra Shadd, I could smack you right in the face," Lisa snapped when he'd gone.

  Allegra set her jaw. "Go ahead!"

  This was worthless and suddenly all too much. "I've got to get out of here," Lisa muttered, pushing Allegra aside. She grabbed for her purse atop the printer table, but it was gone. "Where's my purse?"

  "Why don't you ask your jailbird boyfriend?" Allegra asked slyly.

  "Don't be an idiot," Lisa said, but suspicion made her pause.

  "Go on," Allegra urged. "Ask him. He was right there."

  "Deacon didn't take my purse." A quick search of the office showed the bag was gone.

  "Terry says once a thief always a thief," Allegra said in a sing-song voice.

  "Since when do you care so much about what Terry says?" Lisa snapped. "Fine. I'll go down to Deacon's office. He doesn't have my purse."

  The walk to Deacon's office didn't take more than three minutes, but Lisa found herself dragging her feet. The door was closed and she hesitated after raising her hand to knock. She would be insulting him just by asking if he had her purse. She couldn't do it.

  Allegra didn't let her sister falter. She stepped up to the door and rapped soundly on it. Deacon's voice, muffled, came from inside.

  "Come in!"

  "Go on." Allegra shoved Lisa on the shoulder.

  Lisa opened the door. She didn't want to do this. Allegra didn't bother letting Lisa speak either.

  "We're looking for Lisa's purse," Allegra said boldly. "Did you take it?"

  The wounded look Deacon gave Lisa was enough to make her turn around. "He doesn't have it, Al. Let's go."

  "Wait," Allegra said. "Don't you even want to check? Just to be sure?"

  "No," Lisa said.

  "Go ahead," Deacon told her. "Check."

  She shook her head. "No."

  "Are you sure?" Deacon asked her. The answer she gave would mean more than just whether or not she wanted to check his office.

  Lisa didn't hesitate this time. "Yes. I'm sure."

  Allegra made a sound of disgust. "You're an idiot."

  Lisa didn't care. Deacon's smile was warm enough to turn her insides to melted butter. Maybe, Lisa thought, she'd start eating butter, after all.

  Chapter 6

  * * *

  What a difference a week could make. Deacon and Lisa had gone from being wary adversaries to laughing together over stupid jokes. Even now, he watched as she chuckled with one of their student interns about the antics of a popular television cartoon duo. Deacon lifted his face to the bright spring sun squinting against the glare. The heat felt good on his skin. He'd been feeling a lot of heat lately, and only some of it from the warmer weather.

  He could fall in love with a woman who wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. More than dirty actually. Downright filthy. He watched Lisa wipe her skin on the faded denim jeans she wore, admiring the way the action pulled the light blue cloth so tight against her....

  "Rear?" Lisa asked.

  Deacon snapped to attention, feeling like a little boy with his hand in the cookie jar. "What?"

  Lisa gave him an odd look. "I asked if you wanted to start working on the rear."

  Hell, yeah is what Deacon wanted to say, but he knew she meant the rear of the garden plot. Not hers. "Sure. Just let me grab a drink."

  "It's roasting out here today." She met him at the truck and took the chilled bottle of water he handed her. "I can't believe it's only April."

  Lisa raised the bottle to her forehead and rubbed it along her skin, then dropped the cold plastic down to the base of her throat. Deacon felt his own throat constrict at the sight. He'd been around plenty of women whose every action was planned to push a man's buttons. Women like Allegra, for example. But Lisa did nothing more than breathe and he felt like a teenage boy again. A horny teenage boy.

  "It's really coming together." Lisa nodded toward the work crew setting rows of perennial grasses along the brick path. "How's the pond?"

  Deacon watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed, wanting to put his mouth on the tender skin there. "Almost ready for the fish."

  Lisa smiled at him, completely oblivious to the affect she had on him. "We'll have this put to bed way before deadline."

  Put to bed. The picture that phrase called to Deacon's mind was one he'd have to shove away, and quickly, if he wasn't going to embarrass himself. "Want to walk over and check it out with me?"

  Lisa tilted her wrist, then scowled. "Damn, I keep forgetting I lost my watch. I'm meeting Terry at noon for lunch."

  Would it be stupid and childish to lie to her about the time just so he could steal some of her time away from Terry? Of course. Was Deacon above being stupid and childish? When it came to Lisa, he didn't think so.

  "You've got plenty of time," he said, though noon was only about ten minutes away. "C'mon. You can tell me which fountain head you like better."

  The pond was only a short distance from the rest of the garden. Eventually, a stone path would connect the two spaces, but for now they trudged through dirt and clods of grass. The rough ground made walking tricky, and Deacon reached out a hand to steady Lisa when she kicked a rock out of the way.

  "Oh, Deacon," she said, looking at the quietly churning expanse of water. "The kids are going to love this!"

  He hoped so. It was his best work so far and Deacon was proud of it. He showed her the two types of heads for the pump--one would create a bell of water and one would make the water spurt up in a traditional fountain spray. "Which one?"

  Lisa touched the bell fitting. "That one."

  Installing it meant wading into the knee-high water. "I'll do it later."

  Lisa tilted her wrist again, letting out another frustrated exclamation. "Damn!"

  Even when he'd known her three years ago, she'd never been without a watch. Constantly checking the time was a habit of Lisa's, one that was almost obsessive and nearly unconscious. She'd check her watch in the middle of a sentence and continue without missing a beat. It used to bother him, like she always had someplace else to be, but seeing her without the familiar timepiece on her arm seemed strange.

  "What happened to your watch?" He tried to lure her into conversation that would make her forget about meeting Terry. At least for a few more minutes.

  She shrugged and looked annoyed. "I don't know. I always, always leave it on my dresser next to my birthstone ring. A few days ago, it was gone."

  Over Lisa's shoulder he could see the Memorial Park parking lot. A shiny blue cruiser had just pulled in alongside The Garden Shadd truck, and a tall blond figure was stepping out. Terry. Deacon kept talking.

  "Maybe you took it off someplace else."

  Lisa shook her head. "I don't think so." She laughed a little uneasily. "Then again, I s
eem to be misplacing a lot of things lately. If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone was sneaking into my house and stealing...."

  Her voice trailed off and she met his eyes. There it was again, that damned invisible wall he'd thought they'd torn down. Deacon smiled to show he didn't take offense even though the thought did get under his skin. Would the subject of theft forever be associated with him?

  "I'm sure I'm just getting absent-minded in my old age." Lisa tried to joke. "I mean, the stuff that's missing doesn't have any value to it."

  Deacon flicked his glance over her shoulder again. Hewitt hadn't yet spotted them, but it would only be a matter of time. "What kind of stuff?"

  Lisa ducked her head with an embarrassed smile. "Oh, just...things. Some laundry. A hairbrush. My favorite lipstick. I'm sure they'll turn up."

  "Sure," Deacon agreed, still watching Hewitt.

  Lisa turned and saw Terry who still hadn't seen them. "Oh, shoot, I think I'm late. I've got to go."

  "I'll walk back with you."

  It must be a real thorn in Terry's side to know how much time they were spending with each other, Deacon thought with a nasty smile as he followed her. Not that any of the time he spent with Lisa was anything more than business, of course, but as the project got further underway, they had been spending more time on the job. He wasn't complaining.

  Lisa's foot caught a clump of earth and she started to trip. Instantly, Deacon's arm flew out to catch her before she could fall. Instead, Lisa stumbled against him with a soft, startled, "oh!" He could smell the lush fragrance of her hair and the perfume he knew--just knew--she dabbed at the base of her throat and behind her ears. It was intoxicating.

  For one eternal moment Lisa didn't pull away from his grasp. Her hands rested lightly on his forearms and her knees tapped his shins, so close had she stumbled. She stared up at him, lips slightly parted. He'd seen that look in her eyes before. It was how she'd looked when she wanted him to kiss her.

  "Lisa!" Terry's voice broke the spell, and Lisa stepped quickly out of Deacon's grasp.

  "Right here," she called. She looked back at Deacon. "I'll see you back at the office, okay?"

  He didn't have any choice in the matter, so Deacon nodded. He turned and headed back toward the pond. He might not be able to keep Terry from taking her to lunch, but he sure as hell didn't have to watch the two of them making kissy faces with each other.

  * * * *

  All Lisa wanted was a cool shower, an icy drink, and some air conditioning. The day had been unseasonably warm, and working on the children's garden project for most of the day had left her filthy. She hung her keys on their hook and went immediately to the refrigerator.

  She fought back a wave of annoyance when her search for a cold pop came up dry. Allegra didn't drink sodas. She claimed the caffeine gave her headaches. Lisa could always count on the case of soda she ordered biweekly lasting her the entire two weeks. She still had a week to go, but where was her pop?

  She settled for a glass of iced tea instead. As she squirted a splash of lemon juice and a generous spoon of sugar into the drink, Lisa tried to think if she'd really drank more than twenty cans of pop in less than seven days.

  Had Terry helped himself to a few? But Terry hadn't been over to the house since last week.

  It was just one more mystery to add to the growing list. Things misplaced or missing entirely. Light bulbs burning out, and not just one or two, but four or five in one evening. And now the disappearing beverage.

  This project with Deacon had really started distracting her, Lisa thought as she took her tea and went into the living room. It was a wonder she got any work done at all. Being near him meant she could hardly think straight, and being away from him wasn't much better.

  The living room was a disaster she could no longer ignore. "Al!"

  No answer. Lisa knew her sister was home, though, because she could hear her sister's music playing from her room. Lisa looked around the room at the scattered fashion magazines, dirty plates and discarded articles of clothing. Her sister was a slob. Not news by any stretch, but seeing the level of mess in the room was more proof Lisa had been too caught up in erotic fantasies lately to pay attention to the necessary details of life.

  "Al," she cried again, not expecting an answer. When Al was listening to her music, nothing short of a nuclear explosion could rouse her.

  Lisa finished her tea and debated just leaving the mess for one more day. A cold shower. Soft sheets. Dreams of Deacon...

  "Al!"

  She took the back stairs from the kitchen since they led directly to Al's room. The music grew louder as she got closer to the room at the top of the stairs, and Lisa got angrier. Her sister wasn't a teenager any more! She was an adult with adult responsibilities.

  "Allegra!" Lisa pounded on the door. Still no answer--and no wonder. Lisa would have been surprised if her sister could hear anything over the throbbing dance music blasting from behind the door.

  She threw open the door, ready to yell. What she saw instead made her stop, stunned and speechless.

  Allegra stood in front of her full length mirror, naked except for her bra and underwear. In one hand she held what appeared to be an eyeliner pencil, though one which had been used to little more than a nub. Her face, expertly made up, bore no expression even as she mouthed the words to the song.

  Writing covered her entire body.

  "Al?" Lisa went over to the portable stereo on Allegra's dresser and turned the music off with a snap. "Are you all right?"

  Her sister blinked and stopped singing. Her eyes swam into focus. Her hands came up to cover herself briefly, then she was the old Allegra. She laughed. Tossed her hair. Grabbed her robe from the back of the chair and slipped it on.

  "Don't you know how to knock?"

  "What did you do to yourself?" Lisa asked uneasily.

  Al shrugged. "I'm deciding if I want a tattoo. I thought I'd see how it would look."

  Lisa crossed to her sister and grabbed her arm. Yanking up the sleeve of the robe, she began reading some of the words written on Al's arm. "Garter belt. Lipstick. Gallon of Milk. That's what you want to get tattooed on yourself?"

  Al jerked her arm away and slid the robe down to cover herself. "Maybe. Like I said, I'm just trying some things out."

  Something was not right. This went way beyond Allegra's normal idiosyncrasies. The first slow pang of fear uncoiled itself in Lisa's gut.

  She spoke calmly, watching her sister for any reaction. "Allegra, that is not normal."

  Allegra sighed, long suffering. "Lisa, you worry too much. You've been working too hard. By the way, I found your sunglasses."

  "You did?" Lisa paused. She'd been looking for them for three days, and had finally bought a new pair. "Where were they?"

  Allegra fixed her sister with a look of pity. "In the microwave."

  "What were they doing there?"

  Allegra just shook her head. "Don't know. But the frozen burrito was on the counter next to your keys."

  All at once, Lisa felt like she had to sit down. Allegra clucked sympathetically as Lisa sank onto the perfectly made bed. Lisa repressed a shiver.

  "The microwave?" she repeated in a small voice.

  "What's been on your mind lately?" Allegra asked.

  Was that concern, actual concern, in Allegra's voice? That seemed hard to believe. Lisa watched her sister pull on a pair of jeans, ironed and crisp, from a hanger in the closet. Al slipped on the jeans, then the shirt with movements smooth but so swift Lisa barely got another glimpse of the weird writing all over her body.

  "You've been putting in awfully long hours on that children's garden thing," Allegra continued when Lisa didn't answer. "And spending nearly every night out with Terry. Let's face it, Lisa, you haven't been yourself lately."

  No, she hadn't. "I guess I'm just tired."

  Allegra snorted, smoothing the red material of her shirt over her perfect, flat stomach and turning sideways to look in the mirror. Apparentl
y satisfied with what she saw, she sat next to Lisa and put her arm around her. "It's probably a good thing you're not going out tonight."

  Terry wouldn't agree, but how did Allegra know Lisa had already called off her date with him? "What makes you think I'm not going out?"

  Allegra shrugged. "You're not dressed for it."

  Something about the answer rang false, but Lisa wasn't quite sure why. "What are you doing to do?"

  "Go to Mom and Dad's," Allegra said. "They rented a bunch of movies. Kevin and Andrea are going out and dropping off the kids. I said I'd help. Besides, me and Troy have to finish our air hockey tournament."

  "Sounds like a real party," Lisa said more stiffly than she meant. Nobody had invited her. Even her younger brother Troy was staying home to join in--a rare occasion for the teen who usually had high school sports practices or other activities to keep him occupied.

  "It should be," Allegra said lightly. She smoothed the shirt again three times. She paused, then three times more. After another pause, she ran her fingers over the material as if to start another succession of smooths, but stopped herself. Her fingers hooked into claws, but they remained still. She turned to Lisa with a bright smile. "Like my shirt?"

  "Is it new?" She'd never seen it before.

  "No," Allegra said, suddenly turning away. "I've had it forever."

  The lie was so blatant Lisa couldn't even comment. The beginnings of a headache tapped at her temples. "I think I'll just go to bed."

  "You do that," Allegra said. "Sweet dreams."

  The small, empty bedroom that connected Allegra's room to the front hallway was dark, even when Lisa flicked the light switch.

  Another burnt-out bulb?

  At least the room was bare and she wouldn't trip on anything. Lisa felt her way to the door on the opposite side and burst out into the light of the hallway. Her room, directly across from the spare room, had never looked so good.

  At least one thing was good about all this freakiness. She'd stopped thinking about Deacon for awhile. Sweet dreams? Lisa thought after she'd showered and slipped between her cool linen sheets. She'd prefer no dreams at all.