Riptide
Page 133

 Catherine Coulter

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Adam said, “Yeah, I’m relieved about Sam, too. But wait a minute, Becca. Back up here. You’re telling me that McBride didn’t try to hurt you when you told him you didn’t love him?”
She stuffed another celery stick in his mouth and kissed him all over his face as he chewed. She whispered in his ear before he could talk again, “Nothing to worry about, really, Adam. It’s all over and done with. Hey, you do like the celery sticks?”
“Yeah, they’re good. All three dozen that you’ve stuffed down me. Now, tell me about how Sheriff Gaffney had to shoot Tyler once he knew the skeleton was that girl Melissa Katzen. I’m not really all that clear on any of it. I want every little detail, Becca. No, no more celery sticks. Yeah, a kiss is all right, but hold off now. You’re not going to distract me anymore.”
But she just kept kissing him until he was nearly heaving himself off the sofa. She said against his ear, “I used low-fat cream cheese, better for your arteries.”
“Becca.” He grabbed a fist of her hair and pulled her close to his face. “Tell me the truth. What the hell happened up there?”
“Adam, it wasn’t all that big a deal. Really, nothing worth mentioning except that Sheriff Gaffney really came through. He was the hero. I’ve probably forgotten lots of it because it just wasn’t that memorable. Really, the sheriff had everything under control. I didn’t even count. I wasn’t even important. Would you please stop your worrying and just forget it? I’m home now.” He felt her hand on his belly and he nearly lost it, but he didn’t. He let her go but his frown deepened. Before he could say anything, Becca smiled and said as she got up from the sofa, “Oh, my, just look at the time. Not enough time for me to have my way with you. But I do have a couple of minutes. Do you want me to give you a nice rubdown before I go to the hospital to see Dad?”
He thought about her hand on his belly, moving south, and he nearly went en pointe. He said on a big sigh, “No, but how about an apple, Becca? I love apples.”
She knew exactly what he was thinking. “I love you, Adam. Maybe when I get back from the hospital, we can play a game of Monopoly, or something, okay? But that means you’ve got to rest while I’m gone. Now, you just sit tight and I’ll get you that apple.”
The phone rang. Adam stared after Becca, then picked it up. “Hello.”
“Is this Mr. Carruthers?”
“It is.”
“This is Sheriff Gaffney, from Riptide.”
“Hello, Sheriff. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to speak to Ms. Matlock, make sure she was all right.”
“Well,” Adam said slowly, staring toward the door, “there’s still some shock, you know, from what happened.”
The sheriff sighed. “Understandable, of course, poor girl. I don’t mind telling you that it was pretty hairy there for a while, Mr. Carruthers. I’m sure it’s made your hair stand on end, hearing about her lying on the basement floor with McBride straddling her, choking the life out of her. She was hitting him with a brick, but it wasn’t working, she was getting too weak. The guy was strong, really strong. As you know, I had to shoot him, but even that didn’t stop him. He was over the top, completely whacked out, as my boys say, and all he wanted to do was kill her. I had to shoot him again and the guy fell right on top of her, covered her with blood. But it’s over now. All the questions answered. Ms. Matlock didn’t get hysterical, thank the good Lord. She’s a strong girl. As a man of the law doing my duty, I really appreciated that. And now she’s home, and I hear the two of you are going to get married. You’re a lucky man.”
“Yes, Sheriff. Thank you.”
“Any time. Well, do give my best to Ms. Matlock.”
“You can be sure that I will, Sheriff.” Adam heard her breathing. She was on the line in the kitchen. She’d listened in, heard everything, hadn’t said a word. His heart was pounding slow, heavy strokes. He was so furious he couldn’t think of anything to say. Then he opened his mouth and shouted into the receiver at the top of his lungs, “BECCA!”
She cleared her throat. “Ah, Adam, I’ve got to go to the hospital now.”
He breathed deeply, got hold of himself, and said, “Not just yet. Bring me my apple. I’ll even give you a bite before I wash your mouth out with soap for those whoppers you told me.”
“Sorry, Adam, the apples aren’t ripe enough. You know Sheriff Gaffney, he exaggerates, really, he—”