Chapter Sixty-four

Saturday, Morris and Natalie stayed in bed as planned. Rachel had slept over in her room, partly because Natalie had insisted that she do so, and partly so that she could take care of Parker for them.

Neither of them spoke as Natalie lay nestled against Morris, her head resting against his uninjured shoulder. They both seemed to crave the silence, and Morris was more than content with feeling Natalie’s body against his, even through the pajamas they were both wearing. He certainly didn’t want to bring up anything that would remind her of what had happened the other day, and he knew any conversation would circle around to Henry Pollard and his equally twisted wife, Sheila Proops. Sometime in the future they’d have to talk about what they’d gone through, but not that day.

At noon Rachel knocked on the door, and carried a tray into the room with blueberry pancakes and freshly brewed coffee.

“I figured you two could use some nourishment,” she said.

“Thank you, dear,” Natalie said. “This is so sweet of you.”

“Well, it is your birthday,” Rachel said.

“How’d you keep Parker from barreling in here?” Morris asked.

“We just got back from a two-hour walk. Right now I’ve got him tied up outside gnawing contentedly on a rawhide bone. Later I’ll be barbecuing him a steak. He earned it.”

Morris hadn’t told anyone about how Parker had jumped through the window and grabbed Pollard’s wrist so that he could keep the maniac from smashing in Morris’s head. He didn’t want either Natalie or Rachel to know how close he had come to dying, especially not Nat. He knew they’d find out eventually, but he wanted some space before that happened. From what Rachel had said, and the gleam in her eyes as she looked at him, there was no question that she had found out about it. The police probably figured it out from the bite marks on Pollard’s wrist, or maybe Pollard told them about it. However it came out, Rachel must’ve either read about it in the newspaper or seen it on the news. She was tough, though, like him. If it fazed her at all to learn about it, she didn’t show it. Not that Nat in her own way wasn’t tough. It took an amazing amount of strength to willingly get into Pollard’s car.

“He likes his steak medium rare,” Morris said.

Rachel smiled at that. If Nat was confused about what Parker had done to earn a barbecued steak, she didn’t ask about it.

“I checked the home messages,” Rachel said. “Most are from reporters, which I’ve deleted. You had a few from someone from the mayor’s office. Doug Gilman. He sounded annoyed that you weren’t responding to his text messages, so I called him back for you. The mayor wants you at a press conference tonight so he can give you an award.”

Morris shook his head. “Not tonight. I’ve got plans. Could you call Gilman back for me?”

“Sure.”

Natalie said, “Sweetie, thanks again for breakfast.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Rachel left them to their pancakes, coffee, and silence.