Whisper a Warning by Christine Bush

Author:Christine Bush [Bush, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781477832264
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2013-07-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

When Rockford came out of the bedroom a few minutes later, he was pulling a sweater over his head.

“Willow?”

The room was silent and empty. She was gone.

Where did she go? What spooked her? He looked quickly around the apartment, his eyes finally lighting on George’s lingerie. She couldn’t have thought. . . But anything was possible with the gun-shy Willow. He had never thought to tell her about George.

He got in his car, and began driving around the neighborhood. He tried to convince himself that maybe she had simply gone for a walk, but he knew it was more serious than that. Several minutes later, he drove by the convenience store a few blocks away, just in time to see her long legs disappear into a beat-up Suburban wagon. Maggie’s wagon.

Well, she was safe, and on her way home. Though he had no idea of how to bring back the warmth and closeness they had felt all day. He remembered the sweet smell of her skin, the texture of her blond hair, the way her lips had opened to his. He wanted her, he needed her. One way or another, he would convince her of that. But for now, she was on her way home.

He climbed back up the stairs to the apartment, feeling defeated. After a few minutes, when she would have had time to get home, he dialed her number. The phone answered on the first ring. It was her answering machine.

“Hi, this is Willow. I’m not answering the phone right now. Please leave a message at the beep. Unless this is Rockford. In which case, don’t bother. Ever.”

He heard the beep, and left a message anyway. “This is Rockford. In this great country of ours, a man is innocent until proven guilty. Circumstantial evidence is thrown out in court. A person should have their day in court, Wilhemina. It’s the principle of the thing. Call me, Willow. I love you.” He hung up the phone, feeling sadness like a physical pain inside of him. He knew she wouldn’t call. It was over.

At that instant, the door opened, and his sister George came bounding in, balancing a large box.

“Whoa, get this, big brother. The natives are restless.”

He saved the carton, noticing the holes poked in its top. “Uh-oh, George, what’s in here?”

She closed the door behind her, and opened the flaps of the box. Kittens. There were six to be exact. Two yellow tabbies, two black, two black-and-white. They scrambled to freedom, instantly scurrying to explore their environment.

Rockford was aware that he had developed a headache. “George?” he asked, rubbing his temples. “What are we doing with them?”

“Somebody was going to drown them, do you believe it? I can’t stand by and have them drown. We’ll have to find homes, that’s all. Kinda cute, aren’t they?” One was climbing the curtains, and one had already knocked over his stack of books.

“Adorable. Can we stuff them?”

“A wise guy. Now tell me what’s wrong. You look like you lost your best friend.

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