She glanced over her shoulder. The chicks were all busy with clients; there was no way she could interrupt them for this. It would only draw more attention to them. She couldn’t leave Archer outside either. Too many critters would be all too happy to make a meal out of him.
Cursing under her breath, she ran back to her apartment and whipped the sheet off her bed. Once outside, she laid it on the ground and rolled Archer onto it, then picked the corners and began dragging him around the corner.
His head knocked against the side of the motel, and she cringed. “Sorry.”
Inch by torturous inch, she dragged him back to her apartment. Light spilled onto the sidewalk from her open door. The homey scent of clean cotton and rose oil potpourri wafted on the air, but there was no comfort in the familiar.
“Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead,” Cordelia muttered over and over again as she finally pulled him across the threshold and shut the door.
She didn’t have the strength to pull him up to the couch, so she grabbed a glass of water and flicked droplets on his face, hoping that would bring him to life. When he didn’t move, she got more aggressive and poured the full glass over his head. His eyes flew open. Cordelia screamed and stumbled backward as he sat up, choking and gagging.
Cordelia dropped to her knees and flung her arms around his neck. “Thank God.”
Archer held her loosely with one arm as he continued to beat on his chest to clear his airway. “What happened? I went aroundback to check on your property, and the next thing I know, everything went black.”
“If you wanted to check on us, why didn’t you just knock on my door?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” Archer pressed a hand to the back of his head, his shoulders hunching as he grimaced. A sizable knot had already begun to form. “I got a tip tonight that something might be going down at the Chickadee.”
Cordelia’s heart sped up. “Like what?”
“Just some bad business with some very bad people.”
The screech of slamming a foot on the brakes echoed in Cordelia’s mind. That was where she’d heard Sean O’Leary’s name before. From Archer. On the way to their disastrous date, he’d mentioned he’d been investigating Sean for some underhanded dealings with oil. How had that not clicked with Cordelia sooner?
Did Archer know about his association with the Abernathys? He must’ve if he’d been sneaking around the Chickadee, trying to catch him in the act.
“Are we safe out here?” Cordelia asked. The thought of anything happening to Daisy, Belinda Sue, and Arline made her chest tighter than a wet boot.
She buried her face in his neck, well past the time when she should’ve let him go, but there was a comfort in his pine-scented aftershave. Like everything would be fine if she stayed here, just like this. Possibly forever.
“I don’t know, Delia. The God’s honest truth is that I’d feel a lot better if you moved into town for a bit, closer to where I could keep an eye on you.”
Reluctantly, she released him. His forearm flexed, as if he weren’t quite ready to let her go yet. She’d been just on the brink of letting herself need someone, and, true to form, pulled backright when it got a little too real. She stood and took a careful step back as she smoothed down her skirt, closing herself off from whatever had begun to spark between them again.
“That’s not really possible.” Once Cordelia broke her lease in Dallas, she could kiss her meager savings goodbye, and the chicks would have to be dragged from the Chickadee by their wigs. No way would they leave willingly, no matter the danger.
“That’s what I figured.” Archer got to his feet, back cracking, and glanced around like he had misplaced his keys. “How did I get inside?”
“I hit you with a pot.” When his mouth dropped open, she rushed forward. “In my defense, I thought you were a burglar.”
Or someone worse.
“Do me a favor?” He pulled a paper out of his back pocket and unfolded it. “If you see this man in town, call me right away. Don’t worry about the time.”
Cordelia’s fingers shook as she held the print of Sean O’Leary’s face. She swallowed hard as she peered up at Archer. “Are you going to tell me why?”
“Hell.” Archer ran a hand through his hair, scrutinizing her face. “Don’t tell me you already know him.”
“I don’t already know him.” She handed the paper back.
“Delia.”
She bit her lip, averting her gaze.
“Damn it all.” Archer put the picture away. “How do you know Sean O’Leary?”
“I said I don’t.” And she wasn’t lying... exactly. She knewofhim, but they’d never been formally introduced. A point she was certain Archer wouldn’t appreciate.
