by Misty Simon
Flashes of light shot through my brain straight to my center, and my legs acquired the consistency of overcooked noodles. His strong arm around my waist was the only thing keeping me standing, at this point. It tightened when I purred in the back of my throat.
“God, that noise, it does it for me every time,” he said right into my ear once he came up for air. His thing for my ears drove me crazy, but I didn’t tell him that. Why give him additional ammunition?
“I know. That’s why I do it.”
“Wicked woman.”
“You can bet your sweet ass on that.”
“I have a sweet ass?”
Someday I would not insert my foot in my mouth whenever I was within ten feet of Ben. On that day the champagne is on me. Seriously.
“Anyway,” I said, not wanting to go down that particular path. I always managed to get myself in trouble whenever I tried to banter with Ben.
“No, not anyway. I want to hear about my sweet ass.”
“I am not having this conversation with you.”
“You’re the one who started it.”
“And I’m the one who’s ending it. We need to be serious here.” I shot him a quelling (ooh, good word, Ivy) look before he could say anything about being perfectly honest about his sweet ass. It would be typical Ben. “Bella is in trouble. We don’t have time to mess around right now.”
Ben’s mouth opened. I could practically hear the opinion he wanted to express about messing around, but he must have thought better of it, because he closed his mouth. He cleared his throat. “What kind of trouble?”
“Some idiot got killed and then stuffed into the walk-in refrigerator she has in her shop, the old one the caterer used. And now the cops think she did it. They even told her to stay in town. They don’t have any evidence other than where the guy was found, but they’re trying to pin it on her, saying they have a bunch of evidence that points right to her.” Phew! All in one breath.
“Not good.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. I got a whiff of his special cologne and commanded my knees to stay firm.
“That’s why I called you. Can you talk to your friend down at the police station? Find out what kind of investigation they have going? And how the hell they managed to get things together so quickly? This murder case can’t be more than a few hours old. How did they manage to get so much on her in such a short time when they’ve had no idea previously how to do this on their own?” Once more in one breath. I was on a roll!
“I’m not sure, Ivy. I mean, I could call and talk to Dennis, but I don’t know what good it will do us. He’s already kind of ticked at me for interfering with another investigation they have going on, so I don’t know if he’ll give me any kind of information.”
“What other investigation?” This was news to me, and I admit it hurt a little to find out after the fact.
“It’s nothing, really, but it’s certainly better than that stupid humping dog thing from a few months ago, or the toilet paper thefts.” He gave a little chuckle, since that had been one of our adventures. He got right back on topic, though. “There have been several house burglaries lately. Weird ones. Marty wanted me to try to figure out what’s going on before the police can break it.”
“Sounds intriguing,” I said, not sure if I really meant it since I was still a little miffed that I was only now finding out about this assignment.
“Picture frames.”
“What?”
“Picture frames are being stolen.”
“You mean the guy is stealing paintings off the walls while leaving everything else in the house?” Bizarre, but not totally unheard of.
“No, like someone is going into these houses and taking picture frames, the kind that hold family portraits, things like that. He comes in, takes the frame, and leaves the picture it held right where it was hung before. He’s even tacking them up with fluorescent thumbtacks. The police are pretty baffled. Marty thinks it would kick up our circulation if I can figure out what’s going on first.”
“Huh.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed at me. I could almost see the tiny gears grinding away in his brain. Okay, that wasn’t fair. He really was smart, just not about the whole having a relationship thing, apparently.
“Are you mad at me?” Crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed even more. I stifled a giggle because his eyes were almost closed at this point.
“I am not mad.” I crossed my arms over my own ample chest, waiting to see what he would do. We’d been at odds for almost a week a few months ago but hadn’t had an argument since then. I was interested to see if he was a dirty fighter, bringing up previous grievances when we fought.
“Oh, I think you are. So what is it? Let me guess, I forgot some big date or something you just now remembered.”
I snorted, hoping he wouldn’t bring up the fact that I hadn’t trusted him back near Christmas.
“All right. I didn’t tell you about this assignment when I first found out, so now you’re miffed because I’m not sharing, or some stupid shit like that.”
“Ha!” Yeah, call me the queen of the comeback.
“So that’s it. I didn’t tell you right away, and you’re pissed.” The arms uncrossed to hang loose at his sides—defensive posture effectively subdued.
Maybe he wasn’t as dumb about this relationship stuff as I thought. If he wasn’t going to yell at me, how was I supposed to yell at him? I’d feel like an idiot. Worse. A shrew. “This came out of left field, I guess.” Is this where I should be mature and share my feelings about how it made me feel to not have him confide in me right away? Ack!
“Look, I meant to tell you. I got the assignment this morning, I called Dennis, then you called. You told me to get over here right away. I thought you needed me, so everything else flew out of my head.” I got the full-fledged smile with his elusive dimple popping out. I was lost. Hard to argue with that dimple, and he knew it. Damn him.
“You do not play fair, Ben Fallon.”
“I know it, Ivy Morris. That’s what makes life so much better.” His arms came around me. He tugged me up his lean body for a swift kiss that turned into something a whole lot better.
I got lost in his lips, in the play of his tongue, his roving hands. Bliss was mine. I was contemplating throwing him down on the living room floor to have my way with him when someone cleared their throat behind me.
Shit! Bella. We popped apart like the front clasp on a bra I’d tried on once in a size too small. I’d almost fornicated (good word!) on someone else’s living room floor. Yikes.
“Hello, Bella. Done so soon?” I tried to surreptitiously (nice! I love big words!) rearrange my shirt from where it was hooked under my armpit in the back—that Ben sure was fast—and not give Bella an involuntary peep show at the same time.
“Yes, I’m back and apparently right in time. What, may I ask, are you doing?” Her scowl was fierce, but it made her look like a terrier instead of a bulldog. I tried not to laugh. I mean, come on, I was twenty-five years old, and a guy—my guy—had his hand up my shirt. Not exactly something you want anyone walking in on, but certainly not the end of the world. Then again, her name, her very freedom, was at stake. I wouldn’t be happy, either.
“We were just getting started, so back the hell off.” No, I didn’t actually say that, but a small part of my brain thought it.
“Ben and I were discussing your situation.” That was better.
“With his hand up your shirt and his tongue down your throat?” Why had I thought Bella wouldn’t be rude and jaded when her own relationship was not going so well right now?
Ick! Obviously she’d seen more than I originally thought. Who knew how long she had stood there before she cleared her throat? Man, Ben’s hands had been on my rear end there for a minute, too. How to get out of this? And why was I even worried about explaining myself to Bella? We had other things to discuss.
I didn’t have time to answer those internal questions before Ben jumped i
n. “I apologize. I got carried away.”
No, no, no! Don’t apologize! I wondered where the nearest place to bang my head could be found. “Actually…”
But I didn’t get a chance to explain.
“Very well. But from now on keep your hands to yourself. I have serious crap going on here, people! I don’t need to see the two of you chomping on each other every time I turn around.”
Huh? Who was Bella to say anything? She had gotten caught in much more compromising situations several times. I had barely said a word at the time. When had she become such a prude? I opened my mouth to defend myself but was cut off, again.
“Beyond that,” Mistress Prudey said, “I seriously hope you and Ivy are cooking up some ridiculous scheme to figure out this murder. I will not go back to jail, where I could be someone’s bitch. We’d better get hopping so that doesn’t happen. Terrible things occur when I don’t get regular manicures.”
An hour later, I was still trying to figure out how to go about this. Ben and I had gone out to Mad Martha’s Milk and Munchies to get some gossip with a bite to eat. We left Bella to rest, and when she was done resting she was supposed to make a list of anyone she could think of who might want Trev dead. Ben got beeped and sent out on an assignment in the middle of some heavenly pie a la mode. His loss.
Since I’d driven home and then he’d driven me to Mad Martha’s, I was left to either walk around town some more or go home. I wanted to check up on Bella, but I’d still have to go home first, since I needed my car. Her house wasn’t far, but these legs weren’t made for a whole lot of walking. And I couldn’t see myself strolling over to her house and then hoofing it back when we were finished gabbing. Although maybe I could spend the night there.
Might not be a bad idea. Earlier, Ben had said he planned to be gone all night. Besides, Bella would probably need a shoulder to lean on. I knew I would have. Not to mention the fact that she had to be scared to stay by herself with a killer on the loose, again.
But I’d still need to go home to pick up clothes for tomorrow. My store opened at ten; I couldn’t be late. I had been thinking about hiring a new assistant, to help out with opening so I wouldn’t have to get up early. I know, a new helper. On the one hand, I was ecstatic at the thought of finally having someone to help me now that Kitty was incarcerated. But training someone—ugh! Plus, as witchy and evil as Kitty was (trying to poison me was not one of her better ideas), she had been a whiz with the customers. And that stupid old cash register was still giving me fits.
A block from home I started thinking about what I’d say to my dad if he called again about Ben and marriage. I knew what I wanted to say, but what would actually come out of my mouth was certainly not going to be as filled with four-letter words as what was in my thoughts. I’d have to be firm and mature, tell him to butt out of my life.
No, no, that wouldn’t work. Too defensive. Okay, I’d tell him I was old enough to make my own decisions. And as much as I appreciated his input on most things, this was not one of those things. Much better.
Arriving at my glass-paned door, I took a really deep breath, held it while counting to ten, and got a nice little unintended buzz going on. When I looked through the window from the front porch, I saw my dad’s wavy image through the glass. I turned the doorknob, bracing myself for the inevitable talking to I was about to get. Oh, if I had only known.
Two steps into the foyer and I went down like the Titanic as something heavy hit me on the back of the head. The sound of running footsteps reached my ears only seconds before everything went black.
Chapter Four
A door crashed closed somewhere near my head, setting off a sadistic little drummer boy hell bent on a Metallica concert solo. I moaned and cracked open my eyes, which made my head hurt worse. My vision was blurry—all I could see was my very shiny wooden floor. I sure had done a top-notch job on cleaning it yesterday.
Back on track, Ivy. Two brown blurbs came into my still wonky line of sight. My eyes sent the message to my brain, but I wasn’t getting it. Which is why I said the most intelligent thing I could thing of. “Wha?”
“Ivy!” My dad yelled so loud I was at least sure my hearing was still fully functioning.
“Ohhhhh.”
“Ivy?”
“Ohhhh.” I sounded like a broken record but couldn’t come up with anything else. I felt strong arms fit under mine at the armpits. My dad only grunted a little when he hauled me to the couch three feet away. Thanks, Dad.
Shoving a pillow under my head, he took my hand in his, patting it. “Sweetheart, are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor? What happened?”
Too many questions. “One at a time,” I said. Nausea rolled my stomach. Now was not the time to barf. What would my beautiful floors look like then?
Dad got what I was saying, like any good parent, and asked slowly and carefully, “Are you okay?”
“Ugh.” I gingerly lifted one hand, placing it on my throbbing forehead.
“Do you need a doctor?”
“Nooooo.” I had no idea why I drew the word out; it only increased the drum solo. Bile raced up my throat. Gross.
“What happened?” He crouched down next to me, and his hand snaked under me again, trying to help me sit up.
Not a good idea. “Down,” I said. In that great way my dad had of understanding what the hell I meant even when I’d barely said anything, he helped me lie back down on the couch.
“Thanks.” Closing my eyes for a second, I tried to get the world to stop spinning. I’d be all right if I could just get the world to stop spinning.
“So what happened?” My dad hovered over me, bringing thoughts of vultures. But that wasn’t really fair. I knew he must be worrying. I mean, here he came to my home to find me prone on the floor in the middle of the afternoon… I’d worry, too.
“I’m not really sure what happened,” I said. I opened my eyes for a second, reassured when no spots popped up. The world was the way it should be—stationary and in single vision. Thank God. “I came into the house because I thought I saw you through the window in the door. Before I got more than two steps in, someone knocked me over the head with something solid.” I chanced a glance at his face. “I take it that wasn’t you I saw roaming around in here?”
Dad looked over each of his shoulders as if searching for something. His gaze fixed on an object a smidge out of my peripheral vision. “Huh.”
“What’s huh?”
Crouched as he was, he reached along the floor for something I couldn’t see. “Maybe this is what the person hit you with,” he said, lifting an object that set my face on fire with one of my ever-embarrassing blushes.
****
“I can’t believe he was brandishing one of your ‘toys,’ ” Bella said. This was presented with the ever-popular finger-hook quotation marks in the air, followed by gales of laughter. “He should have taken more than your frames. He could have made a fortune on the black market.”
“I’m so happy I could provide a laugh for you.” Yeah, I sounded stiff, but really, how else was I supposed to deal with the fact that I had been knocked out with a vibrator? And how the hell did the person who knocked me out get it out of my closet? I mean, seriously, it wasn’t something I’d even used. I was checking it out along with some others to see if I wanted to carry them in the store in addition to a variety of other new things. Not that I really had enough for the black market, but Bella thought so, obviously. The burglar must have had quite a chuckle over my possessions before I interrupted the perv.
And why was it always me? Everyone else had only had their frames stolen, while I got my closet violated. Unless he’d gone through the others’ stuff but no one else had vibrators lying around. Though I knew for a fact that wasn’t true, considering the people who shopped in my back room. Ugh! Maybe he felt he should come charging out of my bedroom to hit me over the head with the Dominator as a final act of his comedy.
“You didn’t tell me what your dad said. Wa
s he horrified?”
Like any true suffering drama queen, I threw my hand over my eyes and moaned. “Thankfully, he had no idea what the hell it was. He actually thought it was some kind of hybrid candlestick.”
Which set off another bout of laughter that only ended when I kicked Bella in the shin. She scowled at me as she rubbed her flesh.
“Just promise me you won’t tell anyone,” I begged, not too proud to get down to kiss her feet if I had to. The last thing I wanted was for her to tell anyone I’d been whacked over the head with a big silver object of pleasure.
“Oh, I don’t know, Ivy. It could be good fodder for the gossip mill.” Bella snickered.
It took me a minute to respond since I was awed at her use of the word “fodder.” Once I regained my composure, I said, “It’s bad enough I had to let the police department know. Please don’t make me explain anything about it to Ben.” I quickly looked around surreptitiously (still as good a word on the second time around) to make sure he wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. It never failed that when I said something embarrassing he was there, whispering in my ear.
“He’s not here,” she said, laughing. “Are you paranoid, or what?”
“I’m not paranoid, simply cautious. You know as well as I do that anytime I do something potentially embarrassing, he’s there to catch me. He always calls me on it, too.”
“You do have a point. All right, so be paranoid, but it’s still a funny story. I don’t know how long it’ll be kept under wraps, though. Do you seriously think something like that is not going to leak from the department?”
“Well, I can only hope.” I fiddled with some of the knickknacks on the end table next to me, figuring the story would come out sooner or later. I hoped for much, much later. “I’m counting on the fact that this is the third round of picture frame thefts to help keep the spotlight off what else exactly happened. The whole thing was so weird, though. When my dad and I looked through the house, nothing else was missing. I know I don’t have anything really valuable to walk off with, but I do have a couple of things that would have been easy to take along with the frames.”
