Frame and Fortune

by Misty Simon

  Chapter Eight

  “Absolutely out of the question.” Ben stalked over to the kitchen table, where he threw himself into one of my chairs. I had a split-second image of him breaking the chair, after which I’d take one of the legs and beat him over the head with it.

  “I was not asking for your permission.” And no, surprisingly, I did not say that under my breath, or only in my head. It actually came flying out of my mouth at a slightly loud volume.

  If nothing else, it stopped him in his tracks. “What?” One of his eyebrows quirked up as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You heard me. I know you aren’t deaf.” I finished setting the table for dinner, working hard not to sling the silverware onto the table. Oh, he was making me crazy! I stalked over to the stove to stir the bubbling spaghetti sauce. The noodles had about another two or three minutes, so I slid the French bread into the oven, then slammed the door. I whipped back around. “I wasn’t asking your permission.”

  He gawked at me after snapping his yummy jaw closed. It wasn’t a particularly attractive look for him, but at least he wasn’t acting like some macho man who would, or would not, allow the little woman to do something.

  “I’m thinking about it only because it would keep him close where I would have my eye on him.”

  “Why would you need to keep your eye on him?”

  Now it was my turn to goggle. Why? Why would I need to keep my eye on him? “Maybe because the last time he was anywhere near me he stole my lingerie, trying to make the shop go under? Maybe because his mother is a loon, and it’s possible it’s hereditary? Has it escaped your notice that we have another murder in town just when Charlie happens to come strolling back in at the same time? Maybe he’s graduated.”

  Ben snorted, scoffing at me. Scoffing! At me! I kicked the leg of his chair and whacked him in the back of the head with my wooden spoon.

  “Ow!” He rubbed the offended spot while I stalked over to the sink, threw the spoon into the sink, and grabbed another from the vase-shaped holder next to the stove.

  “You didn’t have to hit me,” he said. Whined was more like it. Apparently, I was feeling pretty charitable toward him at the moment, though, because I didn’t say that to him. Instead, I glared at him.

  “What?”

  I growled.

  “Okay, okay. I got your message loud and clear. You don’t want me to interfere.”

  “Score a point for you.”

  “Does that get me some serious nookie time this evening?” The sides of his mouth kicked up into the sexy smile I couldn’t hold out against.

  I ran over, throwing myself onto his lap. After an undignified oof! he wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled the one particular spot behind my ear that made me squiggle.

  “We don’t have time,” I breathed.

  “You could turn dinner off and make time.”

  “Mmmm.” It went downhill from there. Or uphill into the clouds, depending on how you consider it.

  Fortunately, dinner was still pretty good when we finally got to it. And I was much more relaxed, ready to listen to what he had to say. “Let’s try this conversation again.”

  “Okay.” He pushed his plate away, patting at his mouth with a napkin. “All I was trying to say was I didn’t think you’d thought all the way through about hiring him.”

  “What a convoluted way for you to say you don’t think I know what I’m doing.” I stuck my elbows on the table and cradled my chin with my hands. I felt mellow after dinner—carbs always did that to me.

  He huffed out a breath. “I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Yes, you are.” I tried to contain a snicker, but it wasn’t working. Ben and I so rarely fought. It tickled me when we had words. I knew that wasn’t the best way to handle the situation, but I couldn’t seem to get myself under control.

  He sputtered for a few seconds before crossing his arms over his chest while leaning back in his chair. “You’re probably going to do what you want to, anyway, so why don’t we change the subject?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn’t going to happen, but he bowled right over me.

  “I need to figure out this frame-stealing thing.” He got up from the chair to pace. “It’s driving me crazy that I can’t get even a single hint as to what’s going on. What kind of private investigator am I if I can’t figure this out?” He shoved his fingers into his short, spiky hair, agitation clear in his posture.

  My heart went out to him. I wasn’t in any real danger if I didn’t figure out the murder. No one, except Bella, was going to hunt me down to hurt me. And the police were already involved. Last time, I’d gotten a taste of how they could actually manage to help solve a crime. I was sure they were working hard on this one, especially since Jared very obviously loved Bella, even if she wouldn’t let him near her.

  But Ben had been really trying to get his business off the ground after receiving his private investigator’s certificate off the Internet. It would suck if he didn’t start solving some bigger crimes. He was great at background checks and a handful of spouse-cheating cases, but nothing major had come his way yet for him to prove himself by.

  “When did they start happening?” I asked, willing to let go of the Charlie thing for right now to concentrate on Ben. I wanted my picture frames back, too, after all. I was tired of straightening the darn pictures tacked to the wall with thumbtacks.

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  I wondered: When exactly had Charlie gotten out of jail? How long had he been back in the area? Could he be the one running around trying to cause trouble? But that was kind of stupid, even in my own mind, since he seemed earnest when he said he wanted to get his life back. Argh!

  “Anyone new in town around that time?” I asked, instead of revisiting the Charlie dilemma yet again.

  Ben kept pacing back and forth with his hands forked into his hair. He was like a lion in a cage. Something about the way he moved made my heart thud faster in my chest, beating to get free. I have to tell you I had never been so happy to be nearly strangled with lust for him. I didn’t want to derail his thought process, so I sat on my hands. I had to do something to keep from reaching out for him, yanking him into a chair, and having my wicked way with him, again. But at least I knew having him virtually living in my house wasn’t completely killing my libido. Yay!

  But he was talking again, so I tuned back in.

  “What I really need is to catch a break.” He pulled at his hair, though it couldn’t go any higher than the prickly style he’d created this morning. I’d given in this afternoon, putting his gel and mousse away under the sink. I’d even moved a few of my own things down there to make room for his. If that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.

  On the heels of that thought, I dragged him over to me. I gave him a big whopping kiss that nearly curled my own hair.

  “What was that for?” he asked, his stunned look slowly turning to one of seduction. His lips were puffy from my kisses, and I wanted him with a fierceness I loved. Which was a sharp departure from how I felt after the toothpaste debacle (good word, but didn’t love the reminder).

  It’s important to point out here that this was my first serious relationship. I didn’t know squat about squat, really. Were these ebbing and flowing feelings normal, or not? I had wanted to ask Bella, but with everything going on I doubted she’d want to have a long, drawn-out conversation about anything not directly related to solving the murder and getting her name cleared.

  “I just wanted to,” I replied, adoring the way his forehead crinkled right before he pounced on me. We sank into the couch, where he did interesting things to the skin behind my ear for long moments. I was fast becoming a puddle when the phone rang.

  I thought for a moment about not answering it. I thought longer than a moment, actually, since the machine picked up on the fourth ring while Ben trailed his lips down to my chest.

  After my dorky “please leave a message�
�� there was a brief pause before Bella started yelling.

  “I’m coming over to your house right now. You had better not be messing around on the couch with Ben, or I’m going to kick your ass!” Then she hung up at the same moment as loud banging started on my front door.

  Fortunately, you couldn’t see into my living room from any of the windows. I had the feeling I would have been dead already from Bella’s death-ray eyes if it was possible. As it was, I popped off the couch, letting Ben fall flat on the floor. I hustled to the front door, patting down my hair and ensuring my shirt was buttoned. Do you see what I mean about the psychic thing I always thought Bella had going on? It was freaky how accurate she could be. Why, though, hadn’t she picked up on what was really going on in her own life?

  ****

  The next morning found me back at the shop with my head in my hands. I still had a headache from Bella’s yelling after she’d seen me and eyed Ben with his disheveled hair and pants. Silly boy hadn’t even managed to get them buttoned before Bella stormed into the living room, knocking him on his butt, again, just as he was getting onto his feet.

  Eventually, I’d thrown her out. Her tirade wasn’t getting us anywhere. I tried to patiently explain that things didn’t move at lightning speed when it came to this kind of mystery, but she was way past listening.

  I’d shoved her out the door, telling her to concentrate on who might want her to get into trouble. I also told her to think about getting back together with Jared. Her mood was so incredibly foul, now that she wasn’t getting some of what she kept yelling at me for getting. My answer was a glare, so I had no idea if she was still talking to me this morning. I didn’t have time to think about it, though, since the bell over the door gave its little tinkle.

  I was tempted to not lift my head, but the truth was, I was actually pretty good at this proprietress stuff. I wasn’t going to ruin my good record with fear at this late date.

  I almost immediately put my head back into my hands. None other than Charlie, the secret ladies underwear wearer, had jaunted into the store, looking as if he belonged here. I did not have the energy to deal with this right now. I hadn’t taken the time to have Ben do the background check on Charlie. I’d barely looked at the damn application after I’d seen people treating him as Jackson had been treated—like a returning hero. How was it that these two could be naughty boys and that was fine, but no one wanted to invite me into the inner circle? Bizarre and frustrating!

  And now here he was, back in the store, fingering the feather boas on the hanging wall racks. Soon, he wandered over to flutter the backs of his hands over some of the new costumes I’d received from a fairy item catalog a week ago. He sighed at the feel of the brightly colored gauzy butterfly wings, doing a little spin in the middle of the wood plank floor.

  Okay, that was a little much for me. But then Mr. Hanks came steaming in through the door and made a beeline for Charlie. I won’t make you experience the whole conversation, since it makes me choke just thinking about it. Suffice it to say I nearly put my hands over my ears and sang a Pat Benatar song from the eighties to shut out words like “gut-cutting” and “unnatural wedgies.” Was there such thing as a natural wedgy? Don’t tell me if the answer is yes.

  Mr. Hanks left the store with a jaunty wave sent my way after happily purchasing over a hundred dollars’ worth of banana hammocks. I smiled weakly at him while wiping sweaty palms on my big thighs. Phew! Crisis averted, but now it appeared I had another one on my hands.

  Charlie sauntered up to the counter with a big cheesy smile on his face. “I really think you need me,” he said, trailing fingertips over the long wood counter. He stopped at the earring tree, flicked a dangly one, and watched it twirl and swing before meeting my eyes again.

  “I…” Well, I was at a loss for words, to be honest. On the one hand, I was never more grateful someone had taken over with Mr. Hanks’ questions. But did I want a thief in my store? On the other hand, I could have handled the situation if I had really had to. Couldn’t I have? I shuddered to think about how that terrible conversation could have gone downhill quickly.

  Plus, something else occurred to me. If I had him in the shop I could give him an employee discount. It was like a light bulb going on in the dim cavern of my overtaxed brain. Maybe he wouldn’t steal anything from me at all, then. What was that saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? I wasn’t completely convinced Charlie was an enemy, but the timing of his reappearance in town was awfully suspicious.

  Before I got too deep into thought, the tinkling bell interrupted. This time the problem was bigger. From his actions, it was apparent Charlie would be absolutely no help at all. Judging from the way he ducked under a rack of elbow-length gloves and peeked out from between separated fingers, I was on my own.

  The natural disaster that was Jackie Sturder—rude bitch, interfering busybody, and Charlie’s former girlfriend—came striding into the shop like she owned it. She must have been on a mission, because I don’t think she even saw Charlie in his ill-concealed hiding place. She stalked over to my counter, threw her purse up next to a pink candle, and glared at me with her hands on her ample hips. I had my own set of ample hips. I could have plunked my hands on them to complete the showdown, but I chose to cross my arms over my chest and wait her out. She was the one who’d stomped into The Masked Shoppe. She could be the one to spit out whatever was making her mad—well, madder than her usual crazy bunny freakiness.

  It took no more than ten seconds for her to glance away from our staring contest. I felt a small satisfaction at winning, but that euphoric (good word!) feeling quickly dissipated when she said, “I want you to stay very far away from my boyfriend. I’m going to get Charlie back, now that Trev is finally gone, and nothing you do can stop me. Just ask Bella what happens to those who cross me.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I, um, have no intention of trying to take Charlie from you,” I told the crazy lady in front of me. I, unfortunately, had a lot of experience with insane women over the last few months. Quite frankly, I’d about had enough. I straightened my spine, looked her right in the eye, and spat out, “So you can take your neurotic tendencies, and your gel-enhanced boobs, and get the hell out of my store before I really get pissed.”

  She backed up a step. I had never had anyone back up from me. I let the power of it roar through me for a second, before I started to feel ashamed. What happened to the great proprietress? She’d apparently flown out the door.

  Jackie took a menacing step forward. Uh-oh. She slammed her knuckles into the counter mere inches from my fingers. Double uh-oh. Quickly removing my hands from her vicinity, I hoped she wasn’t about to break something on me.

  “I’m not messing around, Ivy. You don’t know who you’re screwing with.” She flipped a hand through her shellacked big hairdo. I was surprised part of it didn’t break off and crash to the floor.

  “I heard you the first time. And I’ll say it again, since you seem to be having a hard time hearing anything through all that hairspray. I have no intention of trying to take Charlie from you, but I doubt he wants you back at this point. Haven’t you been seeing someone else for the last few months while Charlie was languishing in jail? He might not look too kindly on that, if you know what I mean.”

  Her cheeks went an interesting shade of red while she literally growled at me. Before I could blink, she grabbed a handful of my hair at my temple and slammed my head against the counter so hard I swore I saw stars. Her comment about Trev finally being gone swirled down with me into the black.

  ****

  “Ow. Ow. Ow!” Normally it was me cleaning up cuts or scrapes on Ben. Unfortunately, this time I needed the first aid. Jackie had left directly after she decked me out with the counter, but not before she’d made a few of my teeth feel loose.

  Charlie had apparently skedaddled out of the store sometime during our fight, if you could call her slamming my head a fight. I couldn’t find him anywhere.

&nb
sp; “It won’t hurt so bad if you don’t move,” Ben said, leaning close to my face. I would have worried about him being so close to my big pores in the harsh light, but I couldn’t think past the pain of the antiseptic seeming to eat its way through the flesh on my forehead.

  After he was done torturing me, he slapped a bandage on my forehead, gave it a quick kiss, and walked out of the room. I followed him, my eyes still a little squinty with the pain.

  “I told you it was a bad idea to think about hiring Charlie,” Ben said over his shoulder as he made his way into the kitchen.

  Why on earth would he bring this up now? I wanted sympathy, not lectures.

  “Didn’t I tell you that?” he repeated when I didn’t say anything.

  Crap!

  All I did was grumble as I sat at the kitchen table, watching Ben throw something together for tonight’s dinner. Since the trauma of his first trip to the big grocery store had faded, now I couldn’t seem to keep him out of there. My every cabinet was stuffed, my pantry overflowed, and I could barely get through the jungle of leafy greens in my refrigerator. Then again, if things kept going the same way, I wouldn’t have to cook often. I would also probably eat better than I had in years. So the trade-off was okay. For now.

  But that didn’t address Ben’s snotty attitude. “You did tell me. However, I’m still reserving judgment on the whole thing. I don’t know that it’s really a bad idea, no matter who—or what—Jackie thinks she is. I already tattled on her to the police, who made her promise to stay out of the store. I threatened to call them again if she didn’t back off.” I paused to gleefully relive the look on her face when I’d taken Officer Jared over to her house. I’d made him tell her she’d have grave consequences if she ever tried to shop at my store again. Of course, I hadn’t told Bella I’d seen Jared, or she might have thought of me as a betrayer. But it had worked, nonetheless.