“Where’s Ally?” I asked.
First things first. I wanted to know Ally was okay and then I wanted to have a nervous breakdown.
Young Grandpa Munster looked at Goon Gary.
“She was with another woman, we stunned her too,” Goon Gary explained, “We left her in the car with the keys. Teddy’s behind watching the car to make sure she’s okay.”
“Ally?” Young Grandpa Munster asked.
Gary shrugged.
Mr. Munster’s face tightened. “As in Allyson Nightingale, Lee Nightingale’s little sister?”
Gary began to look a wee bit uncomfortable.
It would appear this was an “oopsie” moment for Goon Gary.
“I’m at a loss for words. You do know that this isn’t only Lee’s woman, she’s Tom Savage’s daughter? And her friend is a Nightingale.”
Gary shifted on his feet while the color rose in his face.
Young Grandpa Munster sat down, shaking his head. “This whole thing is a complete fuck up.”
He looked at me and his face had an expression that was somewhere between resigned and depressed. In normal circumstances, I’d probably feel sorry for him. Since I didn’t know if I’d live to see the end of this scene in the film that was my life, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.
“The simple life is holding some appeal,” he said and I nodded because I could see where he was coming from.
My life had been simple a day ago. Work, coffee, rock ‘n’ roll. Now I was being shot at, dragged around by bad guys and propositioned by the love of my life who I had decided I didn’t want anymore.
The simple life seemed far superior to all of that.
“I’m Terry Wilcox,” he went on.
I nodded again. I was beginning to feel enough of myself to be scared, but not enough to be polite.
“You’re India Savage, Lee’s woman.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say I was not Lee’s anything but these people seemed scared enough of Lee for me to decide that I should keep my mouth shut on that score.
It was then Wilcox really looked at me, from head to toe, and he sat back, getting comfortable, his face changing from depressed to assessing.
“Lee’s always had good taste in women,” he said quietly and something in his eyes made my skin crawl.
Serious euw.
Then he said, “I’m looking for Rosie Coltrane, do you know where he is?”
Great.
Rosie.
The bane of my existence.
I was pissed off enough with Rosie, who had got me into this mess and the one with Lee, to be a little snippy.
“If I knew where he was, why would I be sitting in my car outside his house?”
Something dangerous changed in Wilcox’s eyes and I realized I’d just let my mouth run away with me and that being a little snippy might not go over too well. Like with the guys who shot at me. Evidence was clearly suggesting that bad guys did not like snippy women. I should maybe have been more polite, maybe more meek, then again, I didn’t have a lot of experience with conversing with creepy, scary, bad guys.
“He has something of mine,” Wilcox continued.
“I know.” I felt it safe to admit.
“I was supposed to get it back this morning. Do you know what happened?”
Hmm, I’d never taken the “how much information to divulge during interview with bad guys who kidnap you” course at the local community college. I’d barely squeaked by with computers and business accounting. I was feeling a little bit out of my depth.
“He was staying with Lee but, this morning, me and Lee got kinda… er…” I stopped and searched for a word to describe that morning’s trauma, “busy… and we didn’t notice he took off.”
“Busy.” His eyes dropped to my chest, the Euw Look was still in them. I felt my stomach lurch uncomfortably and tried really hard not to let my lip curl in disgust. “I bet. Do you know where he might be?”
I shook my head. “I wish I knew. He’s my coffee guy. He didn’t come to work, if I lose him, it’ll affect my profit margin.”
“He’s a good coffee guy,” Goon Gary offered, “sheer talent.”
Wilcox was throwing a “shut the fuck up you idiot” look at Gary. Gary’s mouth snapped shut.
Then Wilcox turned back to me.
“Do you know where the diamonds are?”
This I knew, but I shook my head again. I wasn’t going to drag Duke into this mess.
Since I was such an accomplished liar, I think he bought it.
“It’s a million dollars worth of diamonds.”
My mouth dropped open.
Holy crap.
“It is?”
“Yes, and I think you can understand that I want them back.”
I nodded, this time fervently.
If I had a million dollars worth of diamonds, I’d definitely want them back. Rosie must grow seriously primo grass to get paid a million dollars in diamonds for it.
Gary moved slightly, looking out the window, then he murmured, “Nightingale’s here.”
This news sent a surge of hope through me as I immediately decided that, just for the next thirty minutes or so, I wasn’t avoiding Lee.
Wilcox didn’t say anything at first, he just watched me.
“Are you sure you don’t know where Rosie is?”
“San Salvador?” I tried, and I wasn’t joking.
He smiled, he thought I was amusing. It was an oily smile and my skin started crawling again.
Lee walked in. I turned my head to him, the ice still held to my face.
One look and I could understand why these guys were scared of him.
This was a Lee I’d never seen.
He was still wearing his jeans, skintight, navy tee and biker boots and his hands hung loose and casual at his sides. However, the minute he entered, any other presence was forced from the room as his invaded. His eyes were hyper-alert and sharp, he was emanating pure, brutal energy and he was seriously and obviously pissed off.
He stopped and glanced at the ice on my face.
A muscle in his cheek jumped.
Uh-oh.
He cut his eyes to Wilcox.
“I thought we had an understanding,” Lee said.
Wilcox had come to his feet. He put his hands up in a placating gesture.
“Lee, it was a mistake. I just wanted to have a talk with your girl here and things got out of hand.”
“Coxy, things are gettin’ out of hand a lot these days. Who hit her?” Lee’s pissed off glance slid to Goon Gary.
Wilcox looked to Gary and I looked to Gary.
Gary looked a little pale.
“Let me take care of it,” Wilcox said.
“You don’t tell me, I’ll go through every one of your men, that way, I’ll be sure to get the fuck.”
Holy shit.
I nearly wet myself.
The way Lee said that made me shiver and not in the usual way Lee made me shiver.
Wilcox sighed, obviously overwhelmed by the stupidity of his workforce. Clearly, sometimes it’s tough being the leader of the bad guys.
“It was Teddy,” Wilcox answered.
Lee nodded, walked toward me and pulled me off the couch.
“It was nice to meet you,” Wilcox said calmly as Lee escorted me out of the room, his hand curled around my upper arm.
I looked over my shoulder and said (perhaps feeling a bit tougher now that Scary Lee was with me). “The pleasure was all yours.”
I heard him laugh as we left.
Lee did not laugh, Lee ignored the whole exchange.
Lee put me into the passenger seat of his silver Crossfire and got in the driver’s side, started the car and we shot from the curb. Before I could say a word, he grabbed his cell and punched a number.
“Pick up Teddy and take him to the office,” he paused, “Coxy’s boy.”
Then he hit a button and tossed the cell on the console.
Yep, angry.
“Ally...” I started to say.
“She’s fine.”
I took in a breath.
“How did you know where I was?”
“I’ve got a man at Rosie’s. He saw the whole thing.”
Uh, say what?
“Why didn’t he do something?” I asked, somewhat loudly.
“He didn’t know who you were,” Lee paused, “now he knows.”
Yikes.
I decided not to talk loudly anymore.
“You have a man?”
His eyes moved to me, his face was blank, he was still angry. He turned back to the road.
“I have a lot of men.”
“Oh.”
I found that surprising but I decided that maybe it was not the time to give Lee the third degree about his secret life, such as how many men he had and how he knew lowlife kidnapping scum like “Coxy”. I wasn’t even certain I wanted to know about his secret life, in fact, I think I was more certain I didn’t want to know.
Maybe it was the time to begin planning how to avoid Lee again. However, I didn’t know how to accomplish that when I was actually with Lee.
The house I was taken to was in the Denver Country Club area, very ritzy, very wealthy. Lee hit Speer Boulevard and drove faster than was allowed or safe, changing lanes on the three lane road deftly and often. I decided it was probably best not to say anything about this as Lee’s energy wasn’t exactly inviting conversation and definitely not admonishments about driving safety.
He passed the turn to Broadway.
“I need to go back to the store,” I informed him.
He ignored me.
“Lee, I need to get back to the store,” I repeated.
He continued to ignore me and headed downtown, toward his condo.
Damn.
I sat back and crossed one arm on my stomach, still holding the ice to my cheek and I evaluated my situation.
Firstly, I clearly was not in any position of power here. Lee was driving, Lee was angry and Lee was, as per usual, going to do whatever he damn well wanted to do.
Secondly, I’d been kidnapped. I tried to ignore that.
Thirdly, I’d been kidnapped. I couldn’t ignore that.
Big, bad, steroid-fuelled guys dragged me out of my car, made me go unconscious somehow and took me someplace I didn’t want to go.
Post-traumatic stress settled in and my hands started shaking.
Lee drove into the underground garage, parked and came around to open my door. We walked to the elevator, Lee’s hand at the small of my back.
We stood together in the elevator. Curiosity and a desire to end the frightening silence made me say, “They did something to make me black out.”
“Stun gun,” Lee replied shortly, his features showing his thoughts were grim.
I started shaking some more. Someone had stun-gunned me.
Holy crap.
I’d never even seen a stun gun before, now one had been used on me.
He let us into his apartment and I followed him into the kitchen. I was mildly surprised when he took a gun out of the back waistband of his jeans and set it on the kitchen counter.
Being the daughter of a cop, guns didn’t scare me. Dad taught me years ago how to respect a firearm. He did this by showing me how to use them, taking me to the shooting range a couple of times a year and lecturing a lot. He was always careful with his guns in the house, what with me, Ally and all of our friends running around. Nevertheless, Lee casually setting a gun on the kitchen counter like it was a pizza cutter was a trifle frightening.
Then he turned and opened his mouth to speak.
Or, by the look on his face, perhaps roar.
Before he could get a word in, I threw up both of my hands, waving around the ice bag.
“Don’t start!” I yelled and let the trembling take over my body just as I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes.
Definitely delayed reaction.
To keep from crying, or collapsing, I started shouting.
“Oh. My. God! I’ve just been stun-gunned and kidnapped and hit in the face by a guy! And it hurt!” Lee closed his mouth and started toward me but I threw out my arm to ward him off. “No, no, no! Don’t come near me!” He stopped and crossed his arms on his chest.
I paced to the sink, and then back, then to the sink, and so on, holding the ice to my cheek with one hand and waving the other one around in the air, the whole time babbling.
“I mean, this is unreal! Rosie’s disappeared and he’s half-idiot so who knows where he is. I’ve been shot at, stun-gunned, pulled out of bed in the middle of the night by my ankle! There’s a million dollars worth of diamonds out there and that dude wanted to have a chat with me about them. I don’t know anything about them. I haven’t even seen them! What’s worse, I think Grandpa Munster has the hots for me and I think you’ve just done something that makes me owe you another favor, which does not make me happy.” I took a breath and continued. “Not to mention, I’m dog-tired. I’ve not been able to have my nap yet today and last, but definitely not least, I’m starving because I had cupcakes for lunch! Cupcakes!”
I’d stopped my tirade standing in the middle of his kitchen, my arms straight down, my hands clenched into fists, the ice bag dripping and I was trying not to cry. I’d been brought up by a man without a wife who loved me to death but also wanted a boy. Crying wasn’t something that was tolerated. Crying was sissy.
I took a shaky breath to control my emotions and I think my bottom lip may have trembled. Lee assessed that the shouting was over and took a step toward me, grabbed the bag of ice, threw it in the sink and slid his hands around my waist.
“Cupcakes?” he asked.
I hauled in another shaky breath.
“Yes, cupcakes.”
The wrinkles next to his eyes creased.
“We need to get you some food.”
I nodded in agreement.
His grim thoughts were gone and so was his anger. His face had changed, the tightness relaxed, something entirely different there.
One of his hands went to my temple by where Terrible Teddy socked me in the face and Lee tucked my hair behind my ear. Then he let his hand rest against my hair with his thumb splayed and gentle on the underside of me cheekbone. His gaze rested on my cheek for a couple of beats then he looked in my eyes.
“First, maybe we should do the nap,” he said quietly.
I ignored his soft touch and his words, which held a little promise of what might happen before or after the nap (or both).
I’d had enough.
I needed a bottle of red wine and a darkened room and the Disco Nap to beat all Disco Naps. And not one that happened with Lee next to me, preferably one that happened with Lee not even in the same state as me.
“I’d like to go home please,” I requested, trying to sound calm and rational, over my tirade and unaffected by his intimate gesture.
He changed the subject.
“I told you this morning to stay in the condo,” he said this with just a hint of soft menace but more accepting-yet-frustrated-annoyance (yes, I could read all this in his tone, I’d known Lee a long time).
“I don’t often do what I’m told,” I noted.
He shook his head, likely a gesture to indicate he thought of my stupidity as irritating but cute (at least I hoped so).
Then he brushed his lips against mine (that counted as a half a kiss too, which put me at four kisses from Lee in one, single day).
“These are really bad guys. They may seem like imbeciles, but they’re not nice guys,” he said. “You don’t mess with these guys.”
“They’re scared of you,” I told him.
“I can probably protect you from them, I likely can’t protect you from yourself. What did you think you were you doing?”
“I was looking for Rosie,” I said out loud.
“I thought I was looking for Rosie.”
“If I find him first, then I don’t owe you anything.”
“You owe me for this afternoon.”
“That wasn’t that hard, you just walked in and took me out. That’s only worth, say, me making you a batch of cookies.” His lips twitched. I decided to change the subject. “Please take me home.”
He shook his head and watched me for a beat.
“Leave Rosie to me,” he demanded.
I didn’t respond. I may have been shot at, stun-gunned and kidnapped which would make any logical-minded person back off. Not me. Now, I was on a mission. I was going to find Rosie, beat the crap out of him, turn the diamonds over to Terry Wilcox and then move to Bangladesh to avoid Lee, and, possibly, Terry Wilcox.
“I don’t like what I’m seeing,” Lee said. “You look like you looked when your Dad told you that you couldn’t go to Vegas to see Whitesnake in concert.”
Hmm. That was a good concert and very worth the month’s grounding I got when I returned.
Lee’s arm around my waist brought me closer, in direct, full-frontal contact.
“You better be worth the trouble you’re undoubtedly gonna cause,” he said softly, his lips very close to mine.
Somewhere along the line I got mesmerized by his dark brown eyes.
“Of course I’m worth it,” I whispered.
Damn it all! I was losing control and beginning to flirt.
I tipped my head back and licked my lips, my tongue touching his lips as I did so.
“Jesus,” Lee muttered.
The door buzzer went.
He ignored it, his hand at my face moved back to tangle in my hair, his other arm tightened further at my waist.
I went up on tiptoe to get closer.
The door buzzer went again, this time, whoever was pushing it didn’t let up.
“Maybe it’s Rosie,” I said.
“Shit,” Lee let me go and walked to the door.
Two minutes later, the entirety of both our families walked through the door.
“We’ve decided we’re going to have a celebratory dinner,” Kitty Sue announced as she came in.
“You decided, the rest of us were all just hungry,” Malcolm said, starting to smile at me then the smile froze on his face.
Indeed, everyone stopped dead when they saw me.
“What happened to you?” Dad shouted.
Hmm. I hadn’t seen my face but clearly it looked as bad as it felt.
Malcolm Nightingale’s sons looked like him, even now that he was getting older, he looked fit and lean and his face was still handsome and interesting. He kept in shape by running, a lot, sometimes traveling around the country to do marathons.
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