Lane got into the ambulance with Jeff, leaving Ben and Tanner to work out the drug mess. After getting the okay from the EMT who rode in the back with her, she called Maggie to let her know they’d found Jeff, that he was dehydrated and unconscious, but his vital signs were strong and they were on their way to the hospital. She promised to call as soon as she knew more. Maggie was anxious to catch the first flight to Saint Louis. Through tears of joy, she said she'd call after she’d made travel arrangements.

The ER doctor checked Jeff over and ordered a CT scan just in case, but said he couldn't find any signs of a head injury. He'd ordered blood tests to be sure Jeff didn’t have drugs in his system and then sent Jeff to a room. Lane stood at the foot of his bed thinking how small and helpless the man, who when standing was six feet tall and athletic, appeared. He had a week's growth of beard on a face that Lane knew he usually kept clean-shaven. He had an IV and oxygen, either of which would make anyone seem helpless. He stirred a bit before opening his eyes. He blinked a couple of times and looked around the room before focusing on Lane.

"Aunt Lane? Where am I?"

Chapter 8

Never trust a stranger

"Hey, Jeff." She said as she patted his foot. "You're in a hospital in Saint Louis. Do you remember anything?" She stepped around to push his buzzer. Both his nurse and the police had said they wanted to know when he regained consciousness.

The nurse came in and asked Lane to step out of the room. It was 9:00 pm now and even though Ben had said he'd see her in a couple of hours, it had been more than four hours since she'd left him at the warehouse. She stepped into the hall and dialed his cell. He answered on the first ring. "Red." She heard an echo and turned to see him walking toward her. She hung up the phone as he swept her into his arms.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded. "You?"

She told him that Jeff had just regained consciousness and the nurse had kicked her out of the room.

"It's just as well. The police will want to talk to him before anyone else does. Poke your head in and tell them we're going to find the cafeteria."

As they walked to the elevator, he told her what they’d found at the warehouse.  “There was actually a couple hundred pounds of meth in the warehouse, and the Saint Louis Police have the building staked out waiting to see who comes to claim it.”

They got into the elevator.  “Luckily, Tanner had a contact that he'd called as soon as he'd found Jeff but we had still spent the last several hours giving statements. The police are still questioning Parillo.  I’m still not sure if the guy knew about the drugs or not.”

The elevator doors opened and they made their way to the closed cafeteria.  “Maggie said she’d call when she finalizes her travel arrangements, but it’s sounding like she can’t get a flight out until 6:00 am tomorrow.”

It was after 9:00 pm on Sunday night, so naturally, they found the cafeteria closed, but they had some vending machines. Ben walked to the Coke machine and inserted a couple of dollars. He looked to Lane and nodded toward the Diet Coke. "No Diet Dr. Pepper. Will a Diet Coke do?" Lane nodded. "Can or bottle?"

Lane looked around and located both a glass and an ice machine. "A can, please. I'm going to grab a glass and some ice. Do you want one?" Ben said he was caffeinated out and was going to grab a bottle of water.

As she sat down at a table, her cell phone rang.  She looked a Ben as he approached and mouthed “Maggie.”  When she’d hung up, she told him Maggie had confirmed her flight and that she’d arrive tomorrow.

Lane looked across the table at Ben, they'd had a very busy day, and neither of them had spoken a word about what had happened at the rest stop. This was Ben, and she thought of him as her best friend, but others from her daughter Jess to her assistant Meg often asked if she'd ever seen When Harry met Sally inferring that men and women can never be "just friends.” Lane just had trouble getting past the age thing. She was blessed with good genes and no one from the grocery clerk to her hairdresser ever guessed her to be over 35, but she knew the truth. She touched her fingers to her lips. She sure hadn't been thinking about the 12-year age difference when he'd kissed her.

Besides the age difference, Ben's babe magnet status danced in the back of her mind. She often said that every woman in the greater metropolitan area between the ages of 25 and 50 had either gone out with or tried to go out with Ben. He'd dated Kansas City Chiefs cheerleaders, politicians, and TV and radio personalities. She'd met a couple of them. He was 36 and had never been married; although there was a woman, he was seeing when she'd first moved to Kansas with whom she thought he'd been serious.

He watched as she ran her fingers across her lips. What is that statistic people quote? The average man thinks about sex every seven seconds. He didn't know about average but that statistic certainly fit him today.

"So, counselor, mind telling me what was up with that gun this afternoon?" She'd been thinking about it off and on since she'd watched him clip that gun on. It was a side of him she'd never seen and while she had felt safe with him in the warehouse, she wasn't about to let the incident go without notice.

"I defend the criminal element, you know that. Sometimes I have to go places where it would be foolish to go unprotected. Maybe I could have mentioned it to you, but I guess I just thought you'd always suspected."

"Maybe I should have, I wondered why the console was locked. Heaven knows I read enough crime fiction that I should have deduced it. It just was a side of you I didn't know existed. It made you seem dangerous in a way, and I've never thought of you as dangerous."

There were many things they'd never discussed. Kansas City was a mob town and he was a first or second generation Italian American, depending on whether you looked at his mother’s or father’s side of the family.  Both sides had come from a little island called Sicily. He'd heard rumors about his family being connected his whole life, but it wasn't as if he grew up living scenes from the Godfather. Sure, his father owned an Italian restaurant frequented by other Italian families, but he had no reason to believe his father was "mobbed up."

He ran his fingers over the back of her hand as he spoke.  “So, have you spoken to the kids today?”

I talked with Jake earlier; he told me how far west they’d gotten today.”  She laughed.  “He said they’re still getting along - God knows that being cooped up in a car together can bring out the best or worst in people.”

Bringing out the best or worst.  Was that what was happening between the two of them? Lane's cell phone buzzed before she could muse about it any further.

She hung up, explaining that her call was from one of the detectives that they'd met at the warehouse.  “They talked with Jeff.  They say I can see him now.”

She’d just hung up when Ben's phone rang.  He glanced at the caller ID as he answered, "Bellini."

Lane stood and picked up her soda can and Ben's water bottle and tilted her head toward the recycling bin. She left Ben alone to have his conversation, tossed the bottle, and can into the appropriate bins. When she returned to the table, Ben was ending his conversation. "That was Tanner. There's some been activity at the warehouse. Someone came to claim the stuff and there was an arrest. I need to go back to the station." He reached into his wallet and offered Lane some cash. "You left your purse in the SUV. It's been hours since we had lunch, and you might want something before I get back."