Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose
He turned on the lights, then knocked lightly on the bedroom door, opening the door a fraction. “Is he asleep?” he whispered.
The nurse startled, whipping around to face him, and even in the dim light he could see her face flush with color. “Yes,” she whispered back. “But you’re welcome to sit with him.”
DJ entered, shutting the door behind him. The master bedroom was elegant. Pastor probably hadn’t slept anywhere so nice since the last time he’d left Eden and stayed in a hotel. That had been a decade at least.
He took the chair next to the one in which she’d been sitting and waited for her to follow. “Has he been eating?”
“He had some chicken broth and applesauce. Tomorrow we’ll give him food that’s more solid, and we’ll work him up to his favorites. Do you know what food he likes?”
“He eats a lot of lamb.” Pastor hated lamb. “Also he loves tomatoes.” Pastor got hives when he ate tomatoes. “And chocolate, of course. Everyone loves chocolate.” Chocolate gave Pastor heartburn. Of course, the old man would never admit to having a physical weakness. He felt that admitting a weakness lessened his status as a pseudo-deity.
DJ had brought him chocolate at least once a month during the seventeen years since he’d taken over as the community’s buyer, feigning ignorance of Pastor’s plight. The second to the last time they’d moved, DJ had found a pile of chocolate in one of Pastor’s desk drawers, much of it white with age.
“Chocolate gives me gas,” Pastor whispered. The raspy admission made DJ want to smile, but he bit it back.
“Why didn’t you say so?” DJ asked, dragging his chair to sit closer to Pastor’s bedside.
“You’re a vicious little cunt,” Pastor wheezed. “You knew. You gave it to me on purpose.”
Damn straight.
“That’s why you’re not getting the access codes,” Pastor added.
Motherfucker.
“Aw, Dad,” DJ said with mock affection. He wasn’t sure if he was hamming it up for the nurse or for the bug. “You know that’s not true. I’m sorry. You know I would never have caused you pain on purpose.”
Pastor’s eyes narrowed. “Asshole.”
It was fair. “How are you feeling, Pops?”
Pastor’s eyes narrowed further, to tiny slits. “Watch it.”
The old man was right. DJ was pushing him, which could result in him changing his will entirely. The pleasure he got from the verbal jabs wasn’t worth it in the long run.
DJ nodded once, which seemed to pacify the old man. Either that, or the act of narrowing his eyes had tired him out.
“Did you talk to Brother Joshua?”
“I did,” DJ lied smoothly. He had no intention of ever bringing Joshua into the fold. That would be one more person who knew about the money, and that didn’t fit with DJ’s plan. “He’s completely on board.”
Pastor smiled wearily. “Knew he would be. He’s going to make a good right hand.”
DJ maintained his pleasant expression, even though inside he was fuming. I’m your right hand. He suspected Pastor didn’t realize he’d admitted that, but it was good to know his true intentions. Not that it was that much of a shock.
Pastor said no more, dropping back into a deep sleep.
“He’ll do that for a few more days,” the nurse murmured from her chair. “The painkillers are strong because his body needs rest to heal. All perfectly normal.”
DJ pulled his chair until he and the nurse were side by side again. “Is there a pad of paper in this room?”
“Desk drawer.”
“Thanks.” He got the paper and a pen and sat down to write. I know what you did. If you don’t want your management to know, walk with me to the parking lot, where you can explain.
He placed the notepad atop her electronic tablet. He knew when she’d read it, because her body stiffened. She glanced up, eyes full of fear. Excellent. DJ pulled his jacket back enough for her to see the gun in his shoulder holster. She inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring.
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