Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 215

"Yeah, right." Beneath the cover of a striped awning, Bentz shook the rain from the umbrella, then held the door for her. Inside, tiny lights were strung from the open rafters, appearing like stars over head, and the walls were paneled with warm reddish wood complimenting areas of exposed brick.

A hostess led them to a far corner where they were seated at a window table. Outside the rain continued to pour down, gunmetal-gray clouds huddling over the city, water running wildly in the gutters. Inside, beneath lazy paddle fans a waiter brought water and menus, then lit the single candle before promising to return.

"So, about what's happening," Olivia prodded, once they were alone again. "Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like it?"

"Because you're a very smart woman."

"Mmm."

"And you're some kind of kook psychic."

"Whom you love," she reminded him.

"Right."

"Make that adore."

"Now you're pushing it."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"Waiting for the right moment," he said, eyeing the menu and not bringing up Jennifer until after they ordered. Once the waiter had re treated again, Bentz laid it all out. He started with the moment he'd woken up in the hospital and felt the drop in temperature before witnessing his dead wife in the doorway. He told Olivia about the other sightings as well. Finally, he admitted to spying Jennifer again just off the veranda a few days earlier, then just recently receiving the marred death certificate and photographs.

With each of his confessed sightings, Olivia became more and more serious. "I don't understand," she whispered, her gaze seeking his. "How? Why?"

He handed her the copies he'd kept and watched her face turn ashen. "I wish I knew the answer to that."

"Jennifer's dead." She glanced up at him for confirmation.

"Yes."

"There was a suicide note, you made the ID on the body."

"I know."

"Then...?"

"An imposter, probably."

"Or...your imagination."

"Don't think so." He tapped the pictures with a finger. "These are real."

"Or someone faked them."

"That's possible."

"Rick, she's not not alive!" She cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair. "Did you...have you told Kristi?" alive!" She cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair. "Did you...have you told Kristi?"

"She was there when I woke up and she thought it was hallucinations from the drugs or aftereffects from the coma. Said it was all a 'bad trip.' I didn't want to upset her, so I haven't mentioned it again. Neither has she."

But then his daughter was caught up in writing her book and planning her wedding. Kristi didn't want to think that her father had lost his marbles. Because, even though now he was certain he was being tormented by an outside force, he also suspected deep inside that some of his visions of Jennifer had been conjured in his mind.

Maybe outside influences had tripped a latch in his brain and, though he was loath to admit it, he didn't know what was real and what was a figment of his imagination.

"She hasn't seen these?" Olivia motioned to the photos.

"No."

Slowly letting out her breath, Olivia stared at the marred death certificate, then the pictures once more. Her eyebrows pulled together to form little lines in her forehead and her full lips twisted in revulsion. "This is really sick."

"Can't argue that."

"Do you have any idea who sent these?" She held the photos and certificate up, then shook her head and handed everything back to Bentz.

"No. But Montoya's having the lab check out the originals. Fingerprints, DNA, photo-altering-anything else the department can find out including what kind of red pen was used to write the question mark." He tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket just as the waiter delivered the first course.

"You think she's alive?" Olivia asked.

"No." He stirred his seafood stew and shook his head. "But I don't think she's a ghost, either."

"Obviously. So...an imposter. Someone messing with you." She nodded to herself, picking up her fork. "Who?"

"That's the million-dollar question."

Irritated, she stabbed bits of lettuce and shrimp onto her fork. "So you think there's someone here here in Louisiana pretending to be Jennifer, and she makes herself visible to only you. And you think she showed up at the hospital months ago, at the precise moment you woke up. Nonetheless, the pictures and death certificate were mailed from L.A." Her eyes narrowed as she bit into her salad. "Is that about it?" in Louisiana pretending to be Jennifer, and she makes herself visible to only you. And you think she showed up at the hospital months ago, at the precise moment you woke up. Nonetheless, the pictures and death certificate were mailed from L.A." Her eyes narrowed as she bit into her salad. "Is that about it?"

"Yeah. About."

"So why go to all that trouble? Why not mail the package from here in New Orleans?"

"Jennifer died in Southern California."

"If it was her in the van."

"It was."

"You say she hasn't aged, right? But how close were you to her?"

Good point. "Not close enough." "Not close enough."

"Hmm. And the photos, they make her look young, but again, they could've been doctored. Or her face superimposed over another woman's body."

"The answer is in L.A."

"Although you saw her in Louisiana?"

"These shots were taken around L.A."

"Maybe."

The whole Photoshop thing again. "Her body is buried in California," he said and watched her reaction.

"Jesus, are you thinking of exhuming her?" Revulsion showed on her face. "Because you think think you saw her? Because you received some pictures and a marked-up death certificate with a postmark from the town where you lived. Isn't that a little extreme? I mean, would anyone even order it?" you saw her? Because you received some pictures and a marked-up death certificate with a postmark from the town where you lived. Isn't that a little extreme? I mean, would anyone even order it?"

"I don't know, but I think so."

"So you're thinking of going to California," she guessed, shaking her head.

"Yeah. While I'm off duty."

"So soon."

He nodded. "Montoya will watch my back here, look after you."

"You think I need looking after?"

"No. But..."

"But just in case I feel abandoned, he's around. Right?" she mocked. "In the off chance that I feel you're on a wild goose chase, or following a ghost or...I don't know, dealing with all those old feelings you haven't quite laid to rest, I can count on your partner, not you. Is that what you're saying?"

He felt the muscles in his back tighten.

"I don't need to be babysat or coddled, okay? I've lived in that house most of my life. A lot of it alone. I don't need 'looking after.' Sometimes I wonder if you've lost your mind!"

That makes two of us.

"Maybe you should just let the cops handle this."

"I'm a cop."

"No, not this time." She shook her head, golden strands of her hair catching in the candlelight. "This time I think you're the victim."

"Listen, Livvie-"

"To what? Some excuse to go chasing after a woman who's dead? Some trumped-up rationale? This is a situation for the police," she said, pointing to the death certificate and photographs of Jennifer. "And as for 'seeing' Jennifer, maybe you should take that up with your doctor or, heaven forbid, a shrink. These photos...they have to be fakes!"

"Olivia-"

"I hear what you're telling me, Bentz. Word for word. But it's what you're not not telling me that is drumming through my head, pounding in my brain, and ripping a d.a.m.ned hole in my heart." telling me that is drumming through my head, pounding in my brain, and ripping a d.a.m.ned hole in my heart."

"Wait a second."

"No, I'm not waiting. Not a second, not half a second. You're going to hear me out. The way I see it, what's going on here is that you're h.e.l.l-bent for leather to chase after your past. Face it. If we've had a problem in our marriage it's been Jennifer. Kristi's mother. A woman you divorced because she was cheating on you, then took back, even though she couldn't be faithful. You've been fighting emotions that have been eating at you for over a decade: Guilt. Guilt that you're alive and she's not."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"Nothing professional about it. Common sense." She looked about to say something more, then pushed the rest of her salad aside. "Look, if you need to go, then go. Figure it out. Because, you know, I've tried to be supportive and understanding and upbeat, but this has been eating at you. So go. Find out what it is. That's important, yeah, but what's really important to me is that you deal with the past and put it away."

He felt a tic near his temple. "If you don't want me to go-"

"Oh, no, you don't. Don't you dare go there. This is your deal, not mine. You feel this is something you need to do, then do it."

"I thought you wanted me to open up, to tell you what was bothering me."

"Yeah," she admitted, nodding, then waiting as their entrees were served. "I did want to know, but I thought it might happen a little earlier, you know, before you'd already mentally packed your bags to take off for La La Land."

"I told you, if you don't want me to go, just say the word."

She hesitated, then leaned forward. "No, Rick. I want you to go. As happy as we've been, and we have been happy, there's always been that little bit of doubt on my part. And guilt on yours. Look, if Jennifer were still alive we might not be together. So now we get to find out just how strong our marriage is."

"I think it's d.a.m.ned strong."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"But you can't commit to a child."

"I have a child." He was about to say more but saw by the darkening of her eyes that he'd wounded her. Instead he reached across the table to take her hand. "This just isn't the time."

She pulled her fingers from his. "But it is for me, Bentz," she said, her jaw jutting a bit. "It's really now or never."

He considered giving in. After all, she'd make a wonderful mother, he knew that. And so what if he was so old he'd qualify for Social Security when the kid graduated from high school? People did it all the time. He slid his jaw to the side. "I'll think about it."

She grabbed her purse and pushed away from the table. "Then think fast."

CHAPTER 5.

She should have told him.

She shouldn't have chickened out.

Olivia stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Steam covered the window in the bathroom and she cracked it a bit, all the while second-guessing herself. Bentz had left earlier in the morning and even now was winging his way to Los Angeles.

She never should have let him go without mentioning the baby. But the thought of being that that woman, a clinging female who would use any excuse, even her unborn child, to try to keep a man from doing what he wanted stuck in Olivia's craw. She didn't believe in reining in someone she loved. It just didn't make sense. She wasn't into using guilt to hang on to him, and he'd certainly made it clear how he felt about becoming a father again. woman, a clinging female who would use any excuse, even her unborn child, to try to keep a man from doing what he wanted stuck in Olivia's craw. She didn't believe in reining in someone she loved. It just didn't make sense. She wasn't into using guilt to hang on to him, and he'd certainly made it clear how he felt about becoming a father again.

It wasn't as if she'd intentionally gone behind his back and gotten pregnant. There'd been no trick involved; she simply wasn't taking any measures to prevent pregnancy. He knew she wasn't on the pill. Though Rick usually took care of birth control himself, there had been a few times he hadn't bothered with a condom, several instances where pa.s.sion had overruled sanity. And, Olivia thought, brushing her teeth and seeing her reflection in the foggy mirror, she was thrilled to have this new life inside her, having been worried that, given their ages, it might be difficult to conceive.

Nonetheless, she hadn't used the baby as a means to stop him from going on his d.a.m.ned quest to L.A.

She spat, leaned her face under the faucet, rinsed her mouth, and straightened. The woman standing in the misty reflection stared back at her and silently accused her of being a coward. Guilty. But she'd kept mum for good reason. She had wanted to avoid a fight, and couldn't bear to witness the disappointment-even resentment-in his eyes. She didn't believe he'd suggest abortion, but she couldn't begin to deal with the idea of terminating her pregnancy.