Dream Weaver

“Two flat tires, with only one spare to replace them. And it wouldn’t start.”

“Someone got under the hood.”

“Unless a squirrel made off with three of my spark plugs and disabled the carburetor.”

Meliana pushed both dogs to a sitting position. They wanted to hunt the bullfrogs that were croaking in the reeds by the lake. “Stay,” she ordered and had to trust that Lokie would follow Shannon’s lead. “This day’s really not improving. What about the gushing toilet?”

Johnny blew at the hair in his eyes. “That could have happened on its own. The plumber who fixed the broken water pipe Eileen discovered also runs Eddy’s Spaghetti House. He had a party of twenty booked in for dinner last night. I sensed his mind was on his meat sauce while he was here. He capped the geyser and told me to use the upstairs bathroom until he can get a better look at the problem.”

“Right. Fire, spark plugs, toilet. Now tell me why your answering machine and cell are turned off? I’ve been calling since last night. I even e-mailed you this afternoon.”

He rubbed his grimy hands in distaste. “My cell’s dead, Eileen moved the answering machine so I walked through the cord and tore it out of the wall, and you never use e-mail to contact me so I tend not to check it. I called you twice at the hospital today. Despite the usual runaround, I got the impression you were in surgery pretty much nonstop. That meant you were okay, so I didn’t leave a message.” Concern crept in as he cocked his head to survey her. “Did something happen after my last call? Has Chris…?”

She waved him off. “Nothing like that. Chris is out of town until Monday.”

“Some hero.”

“I don’t need a hero, Johnny.”

He took a step toward her, a dangerous step, to her way of thinking.

“I got another rose,” she told him. “At the hospital, in my office. Sometime between four and seven this evening.”

His head fell back, and he gave a humorless laugh. “Not in tune with the cosmos at all, are we?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing.”

“What I don’t believe is how easily this guy slips in and out of your world. Home, office, car. No one sees him….” He stopped. “No one saw him, right?”

“I asked all around the seventh floor. No one noticed anything unusual.”

“So either he’s ridiculously lucky or he sees all and knows exactly when to leave his goodies. Or steal them, as the case may be.”

For the first time, Meliana detected the smell of scorched wood. Her gaze traveled around the open yard to the shed. “You think the rose guy burned the shed and disabled your truck, don’t you?”

“I think it’s very likely.”

“So do I.” The knots in her stomach tightened. “He’s watching me, Johnny, and he doesn’t like you. You need to stay here, and let Julie do what she can in Chicago.”

“I know cops, Mel.” He closed in on her, but was thankfully too dirty to touch. “Julie’s a cog in a big regulation wheel. She won’t be able to do much, no matter how good her intentions. Flowers and petty theft don’t amount to a great deal in the eyes of the police.”

“Julie’s a friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

She lifted her hair from her neck so the lake air could reach her skin. “We’re separated, Johnny, and you’re not supposed to be involved in any kind of investigation right now. On a more dangerous note, you’re also supposed to be discreet about any action you undertake, in case someone you were involved with as John Garcia did happen to make you.”

He used a knuckle to tip her chin up. “You’ve been talking to Blackburn, haven’t you?”

“Not about you.” She let her hair fall. “I watched you change over time, from the man I married to a man I stopped recognizing as my husband. I didn’t grow up in a bubble, Johnny. I’ve seen people get sucked into bad situations. With you, I saw an evolution. It wasn’t healthy, and it certainly wasn’t pretty. You seem so much better these days. I don’t want you to slide backward.”

“I won’t.”

“You could. John Garcia’s a part of you now. You created a persona, and for two years it became your reality. You lived it, breathed it, worked it. When they pulled you out, the FBI considered putting you in a witness protection program. They would have if you hadn’t been so adamant that your cover hadn’t been blown.”

“I didn’t think it had.”

“But now you’re not sure. Enrique Jago might be out there looking for revenge. And what would he do? He’d stalk me. He’d distract you. He’d make you look in my direction when really it’s you he wants.”

Johnny lowered his lashes. He was silent for a moment. Then, with his mouth mere inches from hers, he said, “This stuff’s coming off the top of your head, isn’t it?”

Absurd amusement rose in her throat. It had to be his delivery coupled with his speculative expression. He’d always been able to make her laugh at the most inappropriate moments.

“This isn’t funny, Johnny.” Although she had invented most of what she’d said on the fly. Suddenly, though, she couldn’t remember why or think of anything other than the fact that she wanted to jump him.

The knuckle under her chin slid along her jaw until all of Johnny’s fingers were wrapped around her neck. “Tell me again how I get sucked into bad situations.”

She felt a shiver work its way upward from her belly. “You’re the worst possible situation for me, Johnny. We agreed on that six months ago.”

His lips grazed hers. “And your point is?”

Impulse kicked in. Knocking reason aside, Meliana grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him against her. “I hate you, Johnny Grand.”

“Me, too,” he said and, angling his mouth over hers, began to devour.

SHE WOULD HAVE GONE UP to the loft bedroom with him, and he would have taken her there in a second, but both dogs began to bark, and the headlights that swept over them preceded the blast of a horn.

“Okay, you two, knock it off,” Julie called out the car window. “You’ve got visitors, and one of them had her most recent date interrupted by a friend whose underwear got scoffed.”

Johnny hated to think what he’d have done at that moment had his other persona been in place. But he was Johnny Grand, making out with his wife in the front yard of their summer home. A snarl was the nastiest reaction he could manage, and only Meliana heard it.

He saw her silvery eyes twinkle as she whacked his hands away. “He got me all dirty,” she said to Julie, then added a softer “Though I could have handled getting a lot dirtier” for him.

Johnny ground his teeth. He was grateful he’d worn loose-fitting pants. He swung to face the car, saw two doors open and scowled. “What are you doing here, Lightfoot?”

“Don’t sweat it. I bumped into Julie at the hospital after Mel left. We got to talking about roses, silk stockings and e-mail threats, so I tagged along.”

Meliana gave Charlie’s cheek a peck. “Are you going to feel out Johnny’s computer?”

“It’d be a first. As it happens, I’m also on the lookout for somewhere to hold a series of clinics I’m having, examining the effects of a tranquil environment on the super-stressed mind.”

“Already been done a hundred times,” Johnny said.

Charlie tapped his temple. “Not my way, it hasn’t. Any ideas for a group of, say, fifteen, Mel?”

“There’s the Blue Lake Inn or Reddings on the Lake—that’s a motel. Or you could rent a house. Lots of people here own large properties that they rent out in the off-season. That’d be about now, actually.”

“Sounds good.” Charlie nodded past her. “Why’s Johnny all dirty?”