Cary knew she would never get used to having him leave her. Despite the way she had grown to feel about him, she wasn’t sure Webster also felt that way. She wasn’t even sure her own emotions could be called love. Neither of them had used that word.
Were they just being careful, Cary wondered? She got up from the table and holding onto her coffee, walked to the bedroom where he had slept only a few short nights ago. Taking a deep breath, she edged forward and brushed her hand across the comforter he had used to stay warm.
She had dreamed again last night that she had joined him there under the covers. Remembering, Cary felt herself blush at thoughts that continued to occupy her mind. Not even safe at work, she had closed her office door several times recently and sat facing the windows, thinking of him and wishing he was still there with her.
Cary had dreamed of Webster almost every night since he left her. In the latest episode, they had drawn each other close, kissing with the passion of teenagers. Then, still in the vision, the two lovers had started to explore their longings past the kissing. And finally she had started to give in to . . .
But she hadn’t; it was just a dream, and now he was gone to who-knows-where.
Returning to the kitchen, Cary tried to pull herself away from thoughts of Webster. Easier said than done!
There was so much Cary didn’t know about him and so little she did know. He had told her things about himself, but could she believe them? Was he always secretive and on guard with everyone, even lying to her? On the lakefront in New Orleans, when they had been searching for her mother’s killer, he had appeared to open up, to be honest with her.
He had said he was hiding from unsavory people who wanted him dead. The attack in North Carolina had seemed to verify several pieces of information about Webster. Obviously, his enemies had been trying to kill him, but were those the only ones. Who would know, other than Webster? Maybe his boss, Jack Robbins? But she couldn’t just call and ask.
Not even knowing where he had gone when he left her on Sunday was a bit of a problem. Having these almost erotic dreams couldn’t be overlooked, either.
If she could talk about the situation, perhaps that would help. But who would listen and and give her an honest opinion. Probably not Rita and besides, she was taking some time away from the office after her kidnapping. Poor Rita! Thanks to the Hunter, she had been raked through the fires of Hades, yet she come out smiling on the other side.
Then Cary thought of the perfect person to help her. She picked up her iPhone and scanned the contacts, picking the one individual who really could help. Then Cary dialed the number.
Though old in years, the voice on the other end of the line had wisdom beyond almost everyone Cary had ever known. And she would listen, Cary knew that.
“Landie, I need your help,” she said. “May I come see you this weekend?”