Just as she finished dressing, her phone sounded, and when Wyatt looked up, she said, “A text from Sully. He’s being discharged.” She texted back that she was on her way to pick him up and walked to the front door. She opened it without the chain in place and gasped. “Rod.”
“Hi beautiful,” he said and held out a bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane. He always seemed to have a smirk on hissomewhat round face. She knew he came from money. A trust fund baby, he’d claimed, and perhaps the reason why he was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. “I see you got my other flowers, since they’re not out here on the porch.”
“Yes, I did. But I’m just leaving, so?—”
“So, I’m only staying for a minute.” He pushed past her and with his foot nudged Wyatt out of his way. The puppy evidently didn’t move far enough or fast enough to suit Rod, and the second shove he gave Wyatt seemed a bit rough to Charley. “I called, but you didn’t answer.”
“Come here, Wyatt.” Charley picked him up and cuddled him. She didn’t tell Rod that she’d blocked his number.
“I don’t see the other flowers, baby,” Rod said.
“The vase broke, and the flowers didn’t make it.”
“You couldn’t save my flowers even though you’re a florist?”
“Even though.”
Rod scowled at that but quickly masked it with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then it’s a good thing I brought replacements.” With that, he laid the flowers on the counter, leisurely walked to the sofa, and plopped down as if he had no intention ofonly staying for a minute.
“I’m headed to the hospital to pick up a friend, and I need to get going.”
“The guy with the guns? The guy I saw in your flower shop? With the big truck?”
“Yes.” Charley cautiously remained near the front door. Someone had vandalized her car and property, and she still thought it might have been Rod.
“Tell you what, you get rid of that cowboy, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, do anything you want to do.” Lounging on the sofa, like he owned it and her, Rod spread his arms wide. “Go anywhere and do anything in the world. No pressure.”
“Rod, you’re pressuring me right now,” Charley said, holding Wyatt to her heart and keeping one hand on the new doorknob Sully had installed. She knew Sully would be livid to find out she’d put herself in this predicament. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but I’m not going to go out with you again. You need to leave or I will call 9-1-1.”
“The hell you will.” Rod lurched off the sofa with such force that Charley took a step back. She had a fleeting sense of déjà vu as he came toward her.
“Trust me, I will.” Charley’s phone rang, and she placed Wyatt on the floor, then dug into her purse. Keeping an eye on Rod, she answered her cell without looking at the caller. “Hello Leon, yes, I’m in my apartment. Come on up the hill.”
“When that hotshot rancher dumps you, don’t come crying to me.” Rod charged across the living room, kicking Wyatt along the way as he stomped out the door. Wyatt whimpered and rolled sideways. Rod met up with Leon, who was riding his scooter into the parking area, and shouted for him to go to hell. Over his shoulder, Rod hollered, “That goes for you, too, Charley!”
Charley shoved her phone in her pocket and collected Wyatt to make sure he was okay. He was, and when she looked up, a flash of something on the sofa caught her eye. Rod’s gun lay on the middle cushion! Dear God! As Rod got into his Mercedes and skidded over the gravel, she hurried across the living room. She had the presence of mind not to pick up the gun with her bare hands. With the puppy still in her arms, she raced around the counter and into the kitchen. She put Wyatt on the floor, grabbed a dish towel, and hurried back to the living room. She tossed the towel over the gun a split second before Leon entered the tiny foyer of the apartment. She turned and faced him.
“I thought I saw the tail end of your car on the parking pad,” Leon said, looking over his shoulder to the gravel area. “That Rod guy is a real piece of work.”
“Are you feeling better, Leon?” Charley asked from across the room. When Leon turned to her, she gasped. “My gosh! What happened to your face?”
“Oh, you mean the scratches?”
“Yes. They look raw and deep.”
“I had a bad fall.”
“Oh,” Charley said. Wyatt scampered to her, and Charley picked him up. “I thought you had a stomach virus.”
“Dizziness from the virus is why I had the bad fall,” he replied, lingering in the foyer as she stayed near the sofa. “But I’m okay.”
“Good.” Charley found it odd that Leon didn’t acknowledge the puppy. Maybe he just didn’t like dogs.
“Since you’re closed, I’ll continue working on my uncle’s car today.”
“Your uncle had a car? I thought he bought you the scooter for transportation.”
“He did because his car needed work,” Leon said and touched his face as though it still hurt. “I’m hoping to get his car running reliably today.”
