Rock Chick

by Kristen Ashley

  It was all too much.

  He slid a fresh mug o’ java on the vanity counter and put my cell beside it.

  “Your phone’s beeping,” he said.

  I moved aside to make room as he prepared to shave. I took a sip of coffee and let my mind run wild.

  Dear Lord in heaven, I was putting on makeup and Lee was shaving, at the same time, in the same room, after having sex, lots of sex, even sex in this very room!

  I stood, frozen to the spot, and stared at him.

  He lathered his cheeks with a thin gel and his eyes slid to the side. He checked me out from their corners.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I’m not really a bathroom sharer,” I informed him.

  He looked back in the mirror and continued doing exactly what he was doing.

  “Honey, it’s good you’re gorgeous or you’d be a pain in the ass.”

  Well, I’m so sure.

  I grabbed my phone, looked at the display and saw seven missed calls.

  Yikes.

  How did that happen?

  I called my voicemail while I leaned as best I could on my half of the vanity (I had to admit, it was a big vanity… maybe I was being a bit of a wuss) and swept mascara on my lashes.

  Four voicemails.

  First up, Willie Moses.

  “Indy, Willie… call me.”

  Hmm.

  Second, Marianne.

  “I know Ally said it’s none of my business but give me a break, I live with my parents, I don’t have a life. Yours is better and I want to know everything. Let’s meet at The Hornet tonight if you can guarantee we won’t get shot at.”

  Yikes.

  Third, Stevie.

  “Well? How’d it go? Don’t forget Chowleena, I’ll be leaving just before noon. Tod will be home tomorrow, early, so if you still have her for a sleep over, just leave a note. Kisses.”

  Fourth, Duke (who obviously was talking before being given the beep).

  “… ass in here or I’m gonna kill him.”

  I poked myself in the eye with the mascara wand.

  “Holy crap,” I said.

  “That looked like it hurt.”

  I was blinking fiercely, my eye was tearing up, making my other eye tear up and I was trying to see my phone to replay Duke’s message.

  Lee tore off some toilet paper, handed it to me and took the phone.

  “Listen!” I told him. “The last message.”

  I opened my mouth as far as it would go, which was a feminine mechanism that one had to use to open one’s eyes as far as they would go. I dabbed at the tears and blotches of mascara, trying to avert a cosmetics disaster.

  “Who does he want to kill?” Lee asked.

  “I don’t know, it’s Duke. He has the patience of a gnat and a three centimeter fuse. Do you think it could be Rosie?”

  “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know, it’s Duke!” I cried, exasperated. “He refuses to buy a cell phone or answering machine. He’s a fucking caveman.”

  Lee was scrolling down my phone book and he punched a button.

  “Dolores? It’s Lee. Can I talk to Duke?”

  Quick Thinker Lee decided to call Duke and Dolores’s home phone. Simple. I hated it when I was an idiot. Thank God he was the private eye in the family.

  Oh jeez, did I just think “in the family”?

  Must… stop… brain.

  I reapplied some shadow and fixed the mascara while Lee was talking and then he said, “Yeah? Got it. Thanks.”

  I screwed on the cap to the mascara and threw it in the drawer while Lee flipped shut the cell and slid it on the counter. Then he calmly went back to shaving. I slid the drawer shut with my hip.

  “Well?”

  “The police took the tape down at the store. Willie called you to let you know and when he couldn’t get you, he called Duke. Apparently, there’s a crazy Italian guy at Fortnum’s saying he’s your new coffee guy. Jane called Dolores because Duke was getting heated. Dolores called the cops. They’re handling it.”

  “What crazy Italian guy?”

  Lee tilted his head to see his jaw and slid his razor up his neck.

  “Don’t know.”

  “I didn’t even know we were open today! We have to get down there.”

  “Dolores didn’t seem upset.”

  “Dolores lives with Duke and thinks he’s cuddly. She works at The Little Bear where people throw around their underwear. Dolores isn’t a good judge of when to get upset!”

  Lee looked at me in the mirror. “I’m thinkin’ at this point, you aren’t either.”

  I was dressed, khaki low-rider shorts (not Britney-Spears-low-rider but they showed a hint of back), sky-blue, fitted t-shirt with the word “Xanadu” across my chest in glittery lettering and a wide dark-brown belt with a thick matte-silver buckle.

  I walked out and went to the closet and grabbed a pair of flip flops with ribbon straps with sky-blue funky shapes against khaki. I slid them on, snagged my purse and pulled it on my shoulder. I walked back to the bathroom, snatched up my phone and dropped it in my bag. Then I rested my hip on the edge of the counter and clicked my nails against the top, my other hand on my hip.

  And I stared at Lee.

  He grabbed a towel, wiped his face and threw it in the sink.

  “Hey! You can’t just throw your towel in the sink! Who’s gonna fold that towel and put it back on the rail? I’ll tell you who it won’t be. Me!”

  That’s when he grabbed my hips, pulled me to him and grinned.

  “You’re tryin’ to break the land speed record for gettin’ an offer to move in rescinded, aren’t you?”

  “No. And it was hardly an offer as much as sexual blackmail.”

  His grin widened into a smile.

  Fucking Lee!

  “Hello!” I called. “Fortnum’s? My bread and butter? The family business for the last…” Wow, I didn’t even know how long it had been in the family, I’d have to wing it. “Umpteen years! Crazy Italian guy? Duke’s homicide threat? Ring a bell?”

  He drew me closer to him. “Have I told you you’re cute?”

  Grr.

  * * * * *

  We walked into Fortnum’s and my crazy morning got crazier.

  Terry Wilcox, Goon Gary and The Moron were all facing off against Duke.

  “What’s going on?” I asked when I walked in, my stomach lurching. You could feel the bad energy in the room.

  No customers (thank God, kind of) and Jane was nowhere to be seen (thank God again).

  “This idiot has brought the Italian guy back after the police took him away. Says he’s a fucking present,” Duke said.

  “India. You look well,” Terry Wilcox said, his eyes sliding down the length of me.

  Yuck.

  I was getting that queasy feeling that my body seemed to save for my encounters with Terry Wilcox. I was hoping they would only number two, this one and the last.

  Luckily, Lee’s hand felt warm and strong where it settled at my hip.

  “Coxy,” Lee said.

  “Lee,” Wilcox replied.

  “You know him?” Duke asked.

  “Yeah,” Lee said and that one syllable said he didn’t like him much.

  Duke moved toward us at the same time that Lee put pressure on me to move behind him. I planted my feet and stayed where I was.

  Goon Gary and The Moron were shifting, getting ready for action.

  Great. Just what I needed, a brawl in Fortnum’s.

  Wilcox decided to play peacemaker.

  “There’s no need to get excited, boys,” he said. “India, you said you had a problem, you lost your coffee guy and were losing business. I’ve brought you a new one, from Italy, where they invented espresso. This is Antonio and he’s very talented.”

  I looked at a man I hadn’t noticed who was standing behind Goon Gary. He looked like an Italian version of Rosie except better groomed. Slightly better.

  The door opened as I was saying, �
��I don’t need a coffee guy, thanks, we’re covered.”

  Then from behind me came, “Uh-oh, major bad vibe. What’s shakin’ now, woman?”

  I turned to the door and saw Tex.

  Wonderful, it just kept getting better and better. Now Tex was in the mix.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked Tex.

  “Came for coffee.”

  Of course.

  “How’d you get here?”

  “Drove. I have a car, but I usually let the neighbors use it.”

  I gaped at him.

  “You drove with your arm in a sling?”

  “Fuck yeah, only got tricky when I had to shift.”

  I lifted both of my hands and put my palms to my forehead. It was a Calgon-take-me-away moment.

  “Coxy, she doesn’t want your man. You can send him home,” Lee said, his voice calm but scary.

  “He’s a present, for India. It’s hardly for you to say,” Wilcox returned, also calm but combative.

  “Lee says he goes, he fucking goes!” Duke roared, not at all calm.

  “I make coffee!” the Italian guy shouted, looking a bit more at ease when someone was shouting.

  I was having visions of Goon Gary flying through the front window of my store.

  “Everyone makes coffee, twerp. I make coffee. Jeez-us. Why the big deal about coffee?” Tex said and lumbered to the espresso machine as if the air wasn’t thick enough with tension. He pushed himself behind the counter. “What’ll it be? I’ll make everybody coffee.”

  Oh… my…. God.

  This was not happening.

  I saw my life flashing before my eyes, or at least my bank balance.

  I turned to Lee and whispered, “Lee, that espresso machine cost thousands of dollars…” I stopped speaking and winced when Tex banged something, loud, “If he breaks it, I’m totally screwed.”

  “Come on! What’ll it be? Give me orders. Woman, what’s your order?” Tex was pointing the portafilter at me.

  “I am barista. I am the best barista in Milan. I make coffee!” Antonio shouted and dashed behind the counter. “Signorina, I make you espresso.”

  Lee was ignoring me so I yelled, generally, “Someone stop them!”

  “She drinks vanilla lattes,” Duke called.

  I grabbed Lee’s arm.

  “Lee!”

  Lee was watching Gary and The Moron. He didn’t look at me when he said, “He breaks it, I’ll buy you a new one.”

  I pressed up against him.

  “When I say ‘thousands of dollars’, I mean, like, seven of them!”

  Lee’s eyes moved to me. “Indy, honey, what did I say?”

  Yikes.

  Okay, Lee was concentrating and obviously it was best to leave Lee alone when he was concentrating.

  “Ha ha!” Antonio crowed watching Tex slam around. “You know nothing about espresso. I am barista, my father was barista, my grandfather…”

  “Shut the fuck up and make coffee if you make coffee, turkey,” Tex boomed.

  Wilcox took two steps toward us, Lee moved in front of me and Duke closed ranks.

  “That’s close enough, Coxy,” Lee warned.

  Wilcox was looking at me but he stopped at Lee’s warning.

  “You keep sending back my presents,” Wilcox said to me.

  I got a chill up my spine, his eyes were weird, intense and frightening.

  “Thank you, you’re being very nice but it would be rude for me to accept them.”

  “You accepted the one I gave you yesterday.”

  Lee’s body tensed and it seemed as if electricity sparkled in the air.

  Then it came to me, in a flash.

  I was on the phone to Lee yesterday, telling him about Pepper Rick’s body and Lee had said, “A present.”

  I hadn’t thought of it again, but that’s what he meant. Wilcox had killed my kidnapper and brought him to me as a present.

  Oh… my… God.

  How totally gross was that?

  I was standing mostly behind Lee and grabbed bunches of his t-shirt in my hands but I didn’t take my eyes off Wilcox.

  “You didn’t…” I whispered.

  “I can keep you safe, India. My present yesterday proved it,” Wilcox said.

  I felt bile climb up the back of my throat.

  Then something else hit me, the store was bugged. Days ago, Lee had bugged the store. If I could get him talking, maybe it could get taped or someone at Lee’s Command Headquarters was listening. Then Wilcox could be picked up for murder and I’d never have to worry about him again, or, at least, until they let him out.

  “Lee keeps me protected,” I told Wilcox, I didn’t know what to say to draw him out.

  He smiled his oily smile.

  “To do it properly, you have to eliminate the threat.”

  “Is that what you did? Eliminated the threat and put him at my front door?”

  His smile didn’t waver and he didn’t answer.

  “I didn’t know he was from you, how was I to know the dead guy was from you? You should have left, like, a note or something,” I said.

  “Antonio!” Wilcox shouted, the suddenness of it making me jump, “we’re going. The lady said she doesn’t need your services.”

  “But I make coffee,” Antonio whined.

  Wilcox just slid his eyes to Antonio and without another word, he rushed out from behind the counter.

  Wilcox winked at me, nodded to Lee and Duke and then left, Antonio and the rest of his goons on his heels.

  I was holding my breath. When the door closed behind them, I let the breath out in a whoosh, sagging against Lee’s back.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t put your fist in his face,” Duke said to Lee.

  “I’d rather put a bullet in his brain,” Lee replied in a voice that was oh-so-much-more scary then the calm one he’d used earlier. Mainly because he sounded like he intended to do it.

  He twisted, pulled me around to his front and kissed my forehead.

  “You did all right,” he told me.

  “This has to end soon, I’m coming apart at the seams.”

  His arm wrapped around my shoulders and neck and held me close.

  Jane wandered out from the bowels of the shelves, reading and walking at the same time, her face buried in an open book. Oblivious to the most recent drama, she seemed to sense the presence of others, looked up in surprise as if she’d just encountered us all in her living room, not standing at the front of a huge, used bookstore. She stopped dead, staring at Tex.

  “Hey Jane, honey. How’re you doin’ today?” I asked, worried that she’d have ill-effects after seeing a dead body yesterday.

  Her eyes went from Tex, to me then flickered to Lee and I could see her blush.

  This didn’t surprise me. Lee had that effect on women.

  She didn’t answer me, just nodded and wandered behind the book counter.

  “She’s hangin’ in there,” Duke mumbled, answering my unspoken question.

  “Indy, are you gonna try my coffee, or what?” Tex called.

  I disengaged from Lee and walked on shaky legs to the counter. I took the cup from Tex and before I even took a drink, I stopped and lifted my eyes to look at the big, crazy man.

  I could smell it, and it smelled good.

  I tasted it.

  Divine.

  “Tex,” I whispered, “this is the nectar of the gods.”

  “I told you anyone could make coffee,” Tex replied.

  “You want a job?” I asked him.

  Tex stared. “You shittin’ me?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about the cats?”

  “Sometimes they need to play and sometimes they need to sleep. They can sleep while you’re making coffee.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bitch Triple Threat

  We left Tex to fill out employment forms and Lee drove into LoDo, turning into underground parking. There was a bank of spots with signs that said, “Nightingale
Investigations” and Lee reversed the Crossfire into one. Most of them were empty, one held a soft-top Jeep, another the Mercedes Lee was driving when Tex and I did our breaking and entering, another held a red Miata and one held a black Ducati Monster Testastretta next to a silver Harley Dyna Low Rider.

  I’d seen Lee on the Ducati and it was sweet. I kinda hoped the Harley was his as well.

  I couldn’t concentrate on happy thoughts of maybe getting a ride on the Ducati, or the Harley, because I was too excited about the fact that I was about to visit Lee’s LoDo offices.

  We got off the elevator on the second floor and I saw a door with a small brass plaque that had Lee’s company name on it. Lee opened the door for me and I walked in.

  It was decorated in “Man” with wood-paneled walls, a hulking reception desk, leather couches, thick carpet and dark wood, heavily framed cowboy prints on the walls with a bronze statue of a bucking bronco on a column in the corner.

  The final touch was a glamorous blonde woman who looked like a super model sitting behind the reception desk.

  She glanced up and the moment her eyes caught sight of Lee, they went from enquiring to inviting.

  “Hey Lee,” she said, or more like breathed in a “happy birthday, Mr. President” way.

  “Dawn. This is Indy,” Lee said but Dawn was already looking at me and sizing me up.

  She was wearing designer clothing, she had a fresh French manicure and her yearly budget for hair highlights probably was more than my new furniture. She looked ready to step on a private jet, I looked ready to go to Six Flags Elitch Gardens.

  She knew this, I knew this and when her eyes flickered to Lee I also knew Dawn wasn’t working here because it was an exciting career opportunity.

  I smiled sweetly and lied, “Dawn, nice to meet you.”

  She smiled sweetly back and it was fake, fake, fake.

  “Indy,” she greeted and her eyes turned again to Lee. “Luke’s out of critical, I thought you’d want to know. I’ve e-mailed your phone messages through, two are priority but you’re expecting them and there’s a new high bond skip that needs your attention. The file’s on your desk.”

  Lee nodded and propelled me with a hand at my back toward a hallway.

  “Can you get Indy outfitted with a belt, stun gun, taser and spray?”

  Yikes. What did I need all that for?