Whiskey Rebellion Part 8

"Oh man. Holy cow."

I'd hit the jackpot. The high window definitely looked into the master bedroom. I couldn't really tell if I was looking at Mrs. Wilder or not since I didn't have a close up photo I.D. of the parts I was looking at, but I was pretty sure I was at the right place.

It was like looking at a car wreck. All I could do was stare and hope there were no injuries. I'd never seen s.e.x like this before in my life, not like I had a whole lot to judge by, but I was pretty sure that Mrs. Wilder was my new idol. And I had no idea how she was hanging from the ceiling, but it seemed to be getting the job done.

"d.a.m.n. Pictures."

I brought the camera up and started snapping pictures like a woman obsessed, afraid to look away in case I missed something. I don't know how long I was in the tree, but I know I got an education I never got in health cla.s.s.

They looked to be winding down, and I realized I was pretty turned on and my body was frozen in one position. I must have been there longer than I'd thought.

I looked up again just to make sure my cover was still safe and was surprised to see they'd started again.

"Wow, good for you guys."

I had to say I was a tiny bit jealous, considering my s.e.xual exploits revolved around The Tonight Show, and no matter how much I wanted to continue, Greg's recharging period was about twenty-four hours. Maybe I should have gone for the twenty-year-old. Of course, Greg had been having s.e.x with Veronica too, so I could be judging his staying power unfairly.

My thoughts automatically veered to Nick. I'd be willing to bet he didn't need any recovery period. He was probably one giant hormone with a permanent erection.

I slowly untangled my legs and held in a yelp as thousands of tiny pinp.r.i.c.ks ran rampant over my skin. I juggled the camera in one hand and tried to keep my balance, but it was hard to balance something that was dead weight.

I'm pretty sure the thunder drowned out my scream as I hit the ground. It didn't look like that far of a fall when I was standing on the ground looking up, but the breath was knocked out of me and I was pretty sure the a.s.s was ripped out of my sweatpants, either that or I had explosively wet my pants.

Maybe I should have worn the underwear after all.

I lay on the ground for a couple of minutes and closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them I'd be at home in bed and waking up from a nightmare.

Nope. That would be too easy.

I pushed myself slowly to my feet and whimpered all the way back to the car. The good news was that I had saved the camera. The bad news-well, the extent of that had yet to be seen.

I opened the door to the Z and got in gingerly, holding my torn sweats together and favoring my knee. I put my head down on the steering wheel and wished I had the strength to weep, but all I managed was pathetic whimpers that damaged my pride more than it already was.

"Getting caught as a peeping Tom is a misdemeanor fineable up to thirty days in jail and a five hundred dollar fine."

I screamed at the voice coming from the next seat over and what was left of my adrenaline went into overdrive.

Attack first. Think later.

I don't think my adrenaline was up to the fight because before I knew it both my arms were behind my back and a familiar voice was trying to calm me down.

"What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you? Do you always attack innocent people? You're crazy," Nick said, shaking the fillings loose in my teeth.

"I'm crazy? Me? You don't just get into someone's car and scare the h.e.l.l out of them and then call them crazy for being scared. Let me go!"

"Not until you calm down. And why didn't you look to see if anyone was in your car before you got in? That would have been the smart thing to do."

I was seething inside. I knew what Nick said was right, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it. As far as I was concerned, I was right too. I got really still and waited for him to release me, knowing I'd probably end up going to jail for the rest of my life, but I didn't really care. I'd heard the prisons had good doctors, and I could learn how to crochet. Maybe I could even get my Master's Degree. Prison sounded like heaven at this point in my life.

As soon as he let me go I went into Tae Bo mode and landed a solid punch to his jaw before he restrained me again. Now I had sore knuckles to add to my other list of injuries. But boy was it worth it.

"Ouch. Son of a b.i.t.c.h," Nick said, wiggling his jaw with his hand. "You need to be locked up." He paused and looked down at my sweats.h.i.+rt. "Are you wearing a bra?"

"Get out of my car. Now."

"I need to talk to you about something if you can be normal for thirty seconds," he said. "I didn't follow you all this way so you could take swings at me. I'm trying to run a murder investigation, which is a h.e.l.l of a lot more important than getting your jollies by watching live p.o.r.n. Can you be an adult and talk to me?"

"I don't think so. Take a G.o.dd.a.m.n number or make an appointment. I don't care what you do. Just get the f.u.c.k out of my car!"

"Oh, I get it. It must be that time of the month."

I was pretty sure he saw the steam coming out of my ears at that point, so he opened the door quickly, looking for an escape route. I floored the gas pedal before his feet hit the pavement and felt great satisfaction as I saw him stumble onto the ground on his hands and knees. The smell of exhaust and burnt rubber was the only reminder I had been there.

It had been a h.e.l.l of a day, and I didn't think ice cream was going to make it better, but I was willing to give it a try anyway. And then I was going to chase it with a shot of vodka.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Thursday "Are you all right, Ms. Holmes? You don't look so good."

I'd been hearing this same question every time the bell rang and a new cla.s.s walked in the door. The answer to the question was simple. h.e.l.l no, I wasn't all right.

I'd lived thirty years without doing as much damage to myself as I had in the last five days. I'd broken a leg once trying to stand on my bicycle and pretend I was a circus performer, and I broke all the fingers in my left hand when they were accidentally slammed in the car door, but those incidents were nothing compared to the pain I was currently feeling.

My head was down on my desk and the white noise of my students' voices was lulling me to sleep. For every teacher, there was always one cla.s.s that made you want to stick forks in your eyeb.a.l.l.s.

This was the cla.s.s.

It was seventh period, the last cla.s.s of the day, and it was filled with second year freshmen, athletic rejects, and girls that needed to buy stock in kneepad companies.

This was the same cla.s.s that when I asked who Benjamin Franklin was, only one kid raised his hand and said he was the dude on the money. I figured this kid should know all about Benjamins because he'd been busted twice for selling marijuana in the janitor's closet during lunch.

Sometimes teaching made me feel like I was really making a difference in kids' lives, but mostly it was depressing as h.e.l.l. They were all bigger than me, meaner than me, and every one of them probably had a weapon of some sort in their baggy pants.

I put a movie in and punched play, but didn't dare turn the lights off because I didn't want to contribute to the teen pregnancy rate.

I was seriously considering getting down on the floor to stretch out my aching muscles, but I knew I'd never be able to get back up again. My knee was swollen to the size of a grapefruit and my ribs were bruised from my fall from the tree. The good news was that the b.u.mp on my head had faded to a dull purple. To top it off, the treble choir next door had just started singing a Grease medley for the end of the year production. I could hear Rose Marie's warbling voice over the choir, and it was everything I could do to stifle a laugh and protect my battered ribs.

I'd pretty much seen everything in the eight years I'd been teaching. I'd seen students cheat their way through my cla.s.s, dealt with parents who thought their children should be given a free pa.s.s in life, found used condoms in the teacher parking lot and caught students smoking weed in the bathroom. If I could find one student who would loan me a shot of whiskey to help me get through the rest of the day, I'm pretty sure my life would be complete.

I'd barely stretched my aching body out on the couch when I heard three hard knocks on my door.

"Come in," I croaked. I wasn't about to move from my spot on the couch.

"Are you nuts? You can't just leave your door wide open for anyone to come in and murder you. There are people in this world that are crazier than you are."

The sight of Nick walking though my front door was enough to make me forget about my injuries. He was wearing worn jeans with holes in them, a white t-s.h.i.+rt, and a navy blue windbreaker that said HOMICIDE in bright yellow on the front pocket. His gun was strapped to his hip and he looked good enough to eat.

Lord, that was one fine man. He made my tongue swell up and my limbs weak, but I was made from st.u.r.dier stuff than to let a man like Nick Dempsey cloud my brain with l.u.s.t. My brain had never been clouded with l.u.s.t when I'd been with Greg, but he'd seduced me with his outgoing personality and intelligence. I should have realized he was trying to get me to buy insurance instead of getting me in the sack, but it was a mistake any woman could make.

"d.a.m.n, it's you. I was hoping it was Jack the Ripper coming to put me out of my misery. You don't happen to have your gun on you, do you?"

"Of course I have my gun," Nick said, giving me a look that said, why wouldn't I have it, I'm a cop.

This guy was way too literal. I needed someone with a sense of humor. Nick was a great advertis.e.m.e.nt for Levi's, but that was not enough to base a relations.h.i.+p on.

"Never mind," I said. "Why do you keep popping into my life? And stop calling me crazy. I'm a perfectly normal human being. I've just had a rough couple of days."

"Uh-huh. Every time I look at you the first word that comes to mind is normal. You look worse than you did last night. And that's saying something. What happened to you?"

I shot him a look I reserved for students who were misbehaving and winced as he sat down at the end of the couch and put my feet in his lap.

"I fell out of a tree."

I ignored his burst of laughter and closed my eyes. I really hated it when he laughed. It changed his entire personality. It made him almost likeable.

"That would explain why you weren't wearing pants and why there was gra.s.s in your hair when you got in your car last night."

"I was wearing pants. There was just a big hole in them. You know what? Your words don't even matter to me anymore. I am bliss. I am calm. I am-"

"You're nuts."

I shot him a look meant to shrivel a lesser man, but he just kept smiling at me.

"I hate you."

"Well, that's good to know because the two of us are going to be spending a lot of time together. I need your help."

"What?" I sat up too quickly and a muscle cramp seized my thigh in a vicious hold. "s.h.i.+t, c.r.a.p, I hate you. Nothing ever goes right when you're around."

"I didn't think you'd take the news this well," Nick said, ma.s.saging the tightened muscle. He worked at it a few more minutes until I began to whimper in relief.

"Do you still hate me?" he whispered much too close to my ear.

There were places on my body that were warming at an alarming rate. This man made me crazy. I wanted to strangle him every time he opened his mouth, but whenever he touched me I wanted to jump his bones.

"I wanted to come by and apologize for scaring you last night." His breath was hot against my skin, and I s.h.i.+vered in reaction. All I had to do was move my head ever so slightly and our lips would touch.

"You-you're apologizing?" I asked, surprised. He didn't seem like the kind of man to apologize for anything. I was immediately suspicious, but forgot why when his lips started to feather the side of my neck.

"See how easy it's going to be for us to work together?" he asked, seductively. "I think it could be a pretty life-altering experience, don't you?"

My vision started to clear when I realized he was trying to make a point. Nick had ulterior motives. The rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

The knock on the door saved me from telling Nick exactly what kind of experience he was about to get from my knee to his b.a.l.l.s.

"Ahh-saved by the proverbial bell." Nick put s.p.a.ce between us but kept my feet in his lap.

"Come in," I yelled, before Nick could get up and answer it himself. He rolled his eyes at me, and I watched closely as he placed his hand on the gun at his hip.

"Have I interrupted something?" Kate asked, seeing Nick and I looking more comfortable than either one of us felt.

"No-"

"Yes-"

I gave Nick a disgusted look and tried to move away from him, but my body wasn't in any shape to move anywhere, and all I could manage was a groan.

"Geez, you look like h.e.l.l," Kate said.

"That seems to be the consensus," I said, irritated.

"I've stopped by to drop off a couple more cases, and I wanted to see if you had any luck with Gretchen Wilder. I have a meeting with Mr. Wilder tomorrow morning."

"The camera's on the table with the file," I said, going back to the splendor of the best foot rub I'd ever had.

"Wow, looks like you got an education," Kate said, scrolling through the pictures on the camera. "Mrs. Wilder's my idol."

"Yeah, mine too."

"So how'd you get the bruises? Did you get caught?" she asked.

"Nah, I fell out of the tree I used to look in the bedroom window. I didn't realize how long they'd been going at it and my legs fell asleep."

"Ahh-to be that young again," Kate said. "Ice it down and then go take a hot shower. I'd almost say you did it on purpose just so you could get out of your date tonight."

"What date?" Nick asked.

"Oh, s.h.i.+t! I forgot about the date. Look at me, Kate. I can not go out like this. I can barely stand." I put a little extra whine in my voice so she'd get the point.

"Look on the bright side. Maybe you two will hit it off and then you can spend the evening in bed."

"Yeah, because I always sleep with guys on the first date."

"True," Kate said, shaking her head sadly. "You're an inspiration to nuns everywhere."

Kate downloaded the pictures onto her computer and gathered the files. "Make sure you're presentable by seven, Addison. I'll call your mother if I have to."

"Why does everyone hate me today? Can't you see I'm in pain?"

"Take some of that painkiller the dentist gave you when you had your wisdom teeth taken out. It's not like you'll be driving tonight."