“Honey, why don’t you go ahead upstairs and lie down. I’ll be right up after I show Curt out,” Brad said lovingly.
“But—” she started to protest, but nodded and left the room while Brad retrieved Curt’s coat and walked with him to the car.
“You looked like you had something else to say,” Brad said sternly.
“I guess I do,” Curt confessed. “Look, I’m worried about CJ. I don’t think anyone will be suspicious of what she knows or doesn’t know—not after all these years. Still, there’s always that chance. Keep your eyes open, Brad. Protect her, and don’t let her share this information with anyone.”
Brad nodded soberly. “I’m grateful for the warning. Don’t worry. I’ll keep her safe.”
“Thanks,” Curt said and reached out his hand to shake Brad’s. “I can keep my mind on business if I know she’s not in danger.”
six
W hat have you learned?” Debbie asked, while Curt tried hard to concentrate on the rush hour traffic.
“Not much,” he said. It had been several days since he’d seen Christy, and now he and Debbie were on their way to have Debbie measured for the wedding gown.
“How did Christy Connors seem?”
“Huh?”
Debbie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Where is your mind, Curt? I just asked you about Miss Connors. You know, the woman who’s at the center of this investigation?”
Curt glanced over at the attractive woman who was playing the role of his fiancée. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “Christy’s sister Candy is still not responding very well. She’s in and out of consciousness, and Christy is totally devoted to her. It would seem that Grant Burks, Candy’s husband, is less than admirable in his commitment to his dying wife. Christy told me that he wants nothing to do with his baby, and that causes her a great deal of anxiety.”
“Sounds like she told you quite a bit,” Debbie said, her dark eyes sparkling in amusement. “Of course, a ladies’ man like you never has too much trouble getting women to talk.”
Curt looked over at her and grinned. “Like it’s ever gotten me anywhere with you.”
Debbie laughed. “If I weren’t engaged to Frank, you’d probably have your hands full.”
At this, Curt raised an eyebrow and gave her a look before turning his attention back to the road.
“Anyway,” Debbie continued, “Pricemeyer said that you used your own money to pay for the wedding gown. Why?”
“I don’t know; it just seemed better that way. Besides, won’t you need a dress to wear when you marry old Frank?”
“I have my dress, thank you, and what’s with this ‘old Frank’ stuff? ‘Old Frank’ is only three years your senior. That makes him…”
“Nearly thirty,” Curt filled in. “I’m about to turn twenty-seven, remember? Frank’s going to be thirty, and that’s old. At least in this business.”
Debbie nodded. “I know,” she said soberly.
From the window of the house, Christy watched Curt help Debbie from the car. Their heads were close together as he spoke. Probably terms of endearment, she thought. He’s probably telling her how this is the start of their beautiful wedding and how much he loves her. Christy was defeated before she could even begin.
Working to put her emotions back under control, Christy rechecked her carefully pinned hair and then her makeup. Aggie was greeting the couple at the door and showing them into the fitting room where Christy did most of her work. With one final deep breath, Christy tightened the silver concha belt that complemented her burgundy dress and went to greet her clients.
“Good morning,” she said, entering the fitting room.
Debbie smiled warmly. “Good morning, Christy. I’m so excited, I can hardly sit still. Curt had to get after me all the way over here, but I just can’t help it.”
Christy tried not to show how jealous she felt at the way Debbie chattered about Curt. “It’s always exciting to plan this part of your wedding,” Christy said in a rather reserved tone.
Curt came from behind Debbie and smiled, although Christy re-fused to look at him. “Debbie gets excited when the street department resurfaces the roads. Just ignore her.”
Christy smiled at his words. She knew he was trying to reduce her obvious discomfort. “We’d better get started. I have a 10:30 appointment after this. Curt, there’s coffee and pastries in the front room. You can entertain yourself there while I measure Debbie for the gown.”
“The front room?” he questioned innocently.
Without thinking, Christy started to reply, “It’s the room where we had…” She quickly fell silent. “Debbie, you undress, and I’ll show Curt where the food is.”
Debbie laughed, but the situation rekindled Christy’s nerves. All she’d been able to think about was Curt Kyle, and now that he was here with his bride-to-be, all Christy wanted to do was run away.
Curt followed Christy to the room he well remembered. “How’s Candy?” he asked when Christy finally stopped and turned.
Christy still wouldn’t look at him and snapped, “The same.”
“Then why are you so agitated? That Burks guy getting to you again?”
“No,” Christy replied nervously. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” She fidgeted with the concha belt, then turned to leave, but Curt reached out and stopped her.
“We’re friends, remember? You can talk to me.”
Curt’s words were low and soft—so alluring to a woman as lonely as Christy was. She pulled away with a shrug. “There’s nothing to talk about. She’s dying, and that’s all there is to it.” With that she went back to the fitting room and tried to forget Curt was just down the hall.
The fitting went well, and Christy found herself enjoying
Debbie’s company. “If you’ll go ahead and get dressed,” Christy told Debbie, “I’ll retrieve those swatches I promised to show you.” She pulled the door closed behind her to afford Debbie privacy and moved silently down the hall.
Her storeroom door was open, causing Christy to frown. Aggie must have forgotten to close the door earlier. Entering the room, Christy nearly jumped a foot when Curt popped out in front of her. She had no time to prepare herself, nor to prevent meeting his eyes with her own.
“Curt! What are you doing in here?” she questioned with her heart in her throat.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Why are you in here?” she asked sternly. Never mind that her heart was pounding like a triphammer. Never mind that his eyes were bluer than any she had ever seen before.
“I was looking for the bathroom,” Curt answered.
“Oh,” Christy replied. It was logical if she wanted it to be. And she did. “You missed it by a couple doors. It’s back that way,” she explained, gesturing to her right.
Curt moved his hand up her arm, and Christy felt her legs grow weak. “I really am sorry that I frightened you.”
Curt reached up and touched her cheek. His hand was like fire against her icy skin. Christy trembled, unable to take her eyes from his. I’m losing myself to him, she thought. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in her entire life. Not even her stupid professor had aroused her emotions this way.
Closing her eyes, Christy felt like she had died and gone to heaven. Why does he have to belong to someone else?
Someone else! Debbie! The thoughts jolted her like a lightning strike. Jerking away, Christy’s temper flared, and her eyes flashed electrically.
“You’re just like every other man,” she said angrily. In her eyes there were newly formed tears. “Why can’t there be a faith- ful one among you?”
She turned to storm out of the room, forgetting all about the swatches, but Curt pulled her back. “I’m not your other men, Christy. I’m your friend, and I’m sorry you think otherwise. I just wanted to let you know I care.”
Christy tried to pull away, but Curt wouldn’t let her. “Save it,” she spat the words. “Save it for Debbie. She’s the
one you’re supposed to love and care for.”
“Debbie understands that we’re friends,” Curt stated softly. “I think you’re just mad because I scared you and got lost in your storeroom.”
Christy finally managed to pull herself away from him. “Rot in here, for all I care,” she said and charged from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Curt and Debbie were halfway back to the office when she questioned him about Christy. “Did she seem upset that you were in the storeroom? Did she suspect anything?”
“No,” Curt replied gruffly.
Debbie eyed him for a moment before continuing. “Did you see anything? Anything out of the ordinary?”
“No.”
“Curt, are you all right? You haven’t said much of anything since we left. Did you have a fight with Christy?”
“Yes. No. Well, it’s difficult to explain what happened between us,” he admitted. “I don’t think she’s involved, Debbie.” He looked at her hard for a moment, before returning his eyes to the traffic around him. “I’ve spent enough time with her now that I’m sure I would have sensed it or something would have slipped into the conversation. I don’t think Christy Connors has a clue about what is happening with her shipments.”
“We can’t rule her out. She’s been under surveillance too long. You know the first rule of the game, Curt. ‘Never trust anyone.’”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Curt, this is serious stuff. This is an international drug operation that has been under observation for three years, and only God knows how long it existed before that. You can’t get involved with her.” The look Debbie gave him was a cross between sympathetic and worried.
“It’s a little late for that,” he said heavily.
“Rule number two, Curt.”
“I know, ‘Never get involved with a suspect.’”
Curt dropped Debbie off with the excuse of needing some time alone. He waved off her concern and promised he’d get himself together, but could he?
Driving down the one-way streets of downtown Denver, Curt wasn’t sure he could look at the case objectively. He had fought long and hard to find his parents’ killer. There were only a handful of people in the DEA who even knew what his primary motivation was. He kept to himself generally, but over the last year he had formed a bond with Debbie and Frank.
Hitting his fist against the steering wheel, Curt couldn’t believe the way he had allowed himself to get attached to Christy Connors. He’d been so careful over the years. He’d even alienated CJ. Of course, that was behind him now, but nevertheless, the facts were still the same.
It had been too easy to slip into a relationship with Christy. She was so needing of friendship and love that Curt had automatically taken advantage of it and jumped in with both feet. He kept telling himself in the beginning that it was the case, that with her trust, he could learn far more about her. But now—now he wasn’t just interested in the case. Now he wanted to know Christy for himself.
Debbie was right. He had broken the rules. He couldn’t trust just anyone, but he could trust himself and his instincts. Hadn’t they kept him alive through more than one sticky situation? A finely tuned instinct is the kind of thing that lets DEA agents make it to their thirtieth birthday, he thought to himself. Or at least to their twenty-seventh.
seven
As the week wore on, Christy tried to forget the scene with Curt. What she couldn’t forget, however, was the feeling of his hand against her face. Even while she made sketches of Debbie’s wedding gown, Christy kept losing her concentration. So lost was she in thoughts of Curt that Christy nearly jumped out of her skin when someone knocked on the front door. Knowing she had no morning appointments, Christy steadied her nerves and wondered if it might be Curt.
Opening the door, she was greatly disappointed to find Grant Burks filling her doorway. His dark black hair had been combed straight back, and with the dark sunglasses he wore, Christy thought he looked a bit sinister.
“What do you want?”
“I came to talk,” he said, pushing his way into the house. “You look wonderful in that dress, Christy. You really should wear tight-fitting clothes more often.”
“You have a wife, remember?” she asked snidely.
“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate beauty. You and I could have a very special relationship, Christy. No one would have to know, and no one would have to get hurt. Candy’s dying, after all,” he said, stepping toward her.
“What would you tell your mistress?” Christy suddenly snapped back. She obtained the effect she wanted when Grant paled and stopped moving. With a smug look of satisfaction, Christy crossed her arms. “Does Candy know about her? I imagine she’d like to.”
Grant shrugged. “I don’t think you’ll hurt her like that. She can either die peacefully or in grief. If you choose to abuse her with tall tales about my exploits, I can’t be bothered. But, please, don’t tell me how compassionate you are and how indifferent I am when you share the news with her. Don’t tell me how much you love her when you take away the only dream she’s ever known.”
“You’re a hideous excuse for a human being,” Christy said, unable to think of anything vile enough to call him.
Grant smiled in a slow leering way that made Christy’s skin crawl. He reached out his hand and touched her arm. “You really ought to be nicer to me.”
Christy couldn’t contain the shudder that rippled through her body. “Take your hands off me. I’m not going to tell Candy anything. I could never hurt her the way you have. Do you really imagine she’s that stupid? She may only be nineteen, but she was always an observant person, even as a child. My guess is that Candy already knows about your other woman, or women.”
Grant let his hand trail up Christy’s arm until it came to rest against the back of her neck and his body was nearly touching hers. “We could have a lot of fun together. You ought to think about it.”
“Get out of here,” Christy demanded. “Get out and leave me alone. If you never come to see Candy again, it will be fine by me.” Grant backed off, surprising Christy, who was fully ready to fight him for all she was worth.
“You let the hospital know today that you’re responsible for her bills,” Grant said, sliding his sunglasses back on. “I don’t want any more of their questions about how I intend to meet the cost of Candy’s hospital stay.”
“I’ll tell them; just leave her alone.”
“Don’t order me around, Christy. We need to work real close on this one,” Grant said with a smile. “Real close.” He opened the front door and walked out.
Christy slammed the door as hard as she could, hoping that it made her point clear. She was so shaken that she had to sit down for a mo-ment in order to regain her composure. Grant Burks frightened her in a way she couldn’t begin to express.
Curt was just pulling onto Christy’s street, when he saw the black Porsche pull out of the driveway. The driver didn’t so much as glance Curt’s way, and when he passed, Curt quickly made note of the tag number and wrote it down to check out later.
Parking the car, he made his way to the front door of Christy’s house and knocked. For several moments he waited, without even a sound being heard from the house to indicate someone was home. But Christy’s car was in the drive, and Curt was certain that she was inside. Knocking again, this time a little harder, Curt was almost ready to bust down the door when Christy opened it.
The look on her face was one he had not seen before, and if Curt hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she was frightened. The look vanished with recognition and was quickly replaced by anger.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize,” Curt replied honestly. “I upset you the other day, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. I even told Debbie about it.”
“I don’t care,” Christy said and started to close the door, but Curt put his hand firmly on the frame.
�
�I’m not going until we talk.”
Christy stepped back in exasperation. “Then come inside. I’m getting cold standing here.”
Curt needed no further invitation. He stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, then turned to follow Christy, who was already making her way to the sitting room he’d shared with her before.
“How’s your sister?” he asked.
“Weaker. The doctors want to give the baby as much time as they can, but the pregnancy is draining Candy of her strength.”
“If they take the baby now, will Candy pull through and live a while longer?” Curt asked, tossing his coat to one side.
Christy shook her head and walked to the fireplace mantel where a high school graduation picture of Candy sat. “I don’t think anything will help,” she whispered.
Curt watched her for several moments. She was far and away the most attractive woman he had ever seen, and the blue dress she wore showed off her shapely figure to perfection. Thinking of that, Curt re-membered something in his coat pocket. Pulling out a magazine, Curt held it up.
“I found this,” he said proudly.
Christy turned and saw the outdated fashion magazine. A glossy photograph of her in a black miniskirt and white and black polka-dot tank top stared back at her. Beside her in the picture were two Dalma-tians and a red fire hydrant.
“You must have looked very hard to find a relic like that,” she re-plied and took a seat on the sofa.
“Relic? If this thing weren’t dated, I would have thought it was just done. You haven’t aged a bit in six years.”
Christy winced. “Six years? Is that how old that thing is?”
Curt laughed and gave the magazine a toss to where Christy sat. “Look for yourself.”
Christy did, and it confirmed his statement. “I can’t believe it was that long ago. I was barely nineteen,” she said and then added sadly, “the same age Candy is now.”
Curt came to where she sat and, in spite of the frown she gave him, sat down beside her. “I didn’t mean to make you sad. I thought it pretty neat that I could find something like this and even better that I knew the gorgeous model on the front of a popular fashion magazine.”
Wings Like Eagles Page 5
