Cornered

by Turner, Linda; Weaver, Ingrid; Miller, Julie

  “If she didn’t take a cab here,” he said.

  “The place is a dive, Wiley. Do you really think she took a cab here?”

  He grinned. “I’m just covering all contingencies.”

  “Which is why we should check out all the cars in the parking lot.”

  “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “We’ll run the plates through the DMV. Who knows? We might get lucky.”

  “Olivia Sanchez also gave me a list of her husband’s favorite hangouts. We could drive by them and see if his car’s parked out front. It’s a longshot, but since we’ve already lost him, there’s not much else we can do tonight.”

  He could think of a hell of a lot they could do together other than chase down longshots, but those were the kind of thoughts that were only going to get him in trouble. She’s your partner, he reminded himself sternly, nothing more. “We might as well give it a try,” he agreed, and quickly wrote down the plate numbers of all the cars in the bar parking lot.

  Ten minutes later, they headed for an exclusive club on the north side of town. Not surprisingly, there was no sign of Sanchez’s Mercedes convertible in the parking lot.

  “I didn’t think he’d be here,” Wiley said as he headed for the second place on the list Olivia Sanchez had given Josie. “He’s not going to take his lover anywhere he might run into a family friend who might tell his wife.”

  “She didn’t need a friend to tell her,” Josephine said. “She knows. She just needs us to give her the details.”

  “And when we do, she’s going to flay him alive. If Sanchez wasn’t such a scum bucket, I might feel sorry for him.”

  “He deserves it. If he wants to fool around, he should get a divorce.”

  “Trust me—he’s not a man who feels like he has to answer to anyone, even a wife,” Wiley retorted. “His life’s about to get very interesting.”

  “Once we get the goods on him,” she reminded him. “Right now, things don’t look too hopeful.”

  “Don’t give up hope,” he said easily. “We’re really just getting started.”

  They spent the next two hours checking out the list, but there was no sign of Roberto Sanchez or his Mercedes anywhere. Disappointed, Josephine sighed in defeat as Wiley headed downtown. “This has turned out to be nothing but a major waste of time. I’m sorry, Wiley.”

  “For what?” he asked, surprised.

  “For getting you involved in this to begin with. I should never have accepted Olivia Sanchez as a client.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re new in town—there was no way for you to know who Roberto Sanchez was. And it’s not like I don’t make mistakes,” he added. “Boonie used to tease me all the time about the people I accepted as clients. Most of them didn’t have two nickels to rub together. By the time I found that out, it was too late—I already felt sorry for them.”

  For all of two seconds, Josephine believed every word. Then she burst out laughing. “You a softie? I don’t think so.”

  Far from offended, he only grinned. “I had you going there for a minute.”

  “You don’t have a soft bone in your body.”

  “Sure, I do. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you I like puppies and babies and bunny rabbits.”

  “And crocodiles and barracudas and dragons.”

  “True,” he chuckled. “What can I say? I’m just one surprise after another.”

  “I’ll remember that,” she said dryly. He pulled into Boonie’s driveway then and she was surprised when he cut the engine. “You don’t have to walk me to the door. It’s late. I’m sure you’d like to get home.”

  “It’s not that late,” he replied, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Anyway, I just live around the corner. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  Josephine wasn’t one of those women who jumped at every shadow, but she did appreciate Wiley’s presence as they started up the front walk. “It takes a while to get used to a new house,” she admitted. “I’m not usually a fraidy cat, but last night, it seemed like I heard every creak and groan the house made.”

  “The neighborhood is usually pretty quiet,” Wiley assured her. “I can’t remember the last time there was a break-in around here. That doesn’t mean it can’t happen, of course, but don’t forget…you’ve got Ethel. She’s better than a watchdog. She can scream like a woman when she’s scared.”

  Grinning, Josephine chuckled. “She’s a character, that’s for sure. I never know what she’s going to say next.”

  Unlocking the front door, she stepped inside with Wiley two steps behind her. Sitting on her perch in front of the television, which Josephine had left on for her, Ethel perked up, her dark eyes sparkling with interest as she observed the two of them. “Sweety’s got a sweety,” she suddenly sang gleefully.

  Stopping in her tracks, Josephine groaned. “She might be better than a watchdog, but at least a dog doesn’t make smart remarks.”

  “Aw, come on,” Wiley chuckled. “Could a dog be this interesting?”

  When Josephine just gave him a baleful look, he turned to the parrot with a grin. “People with no sense of humor just don’t know what they’re missing, do they, Ethel?”

  “Life’s a party,” the bird retorted. “Get down!”

  When they both laughed, Ethel stretched her wings, but Wiley didn’t give her a chance to get rolling with the wisecracks. Turning serious, he said, “How’s it going, Ethel? Has it been pretty quiet around here?”

  “Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse,” she replied. “Darn. Where’s dinner?”

  “In your bowl,” he retorted. “Bon appetit.”

  “Yum,” Ethel cackled, and turned her attention to eating.

  Wiley grinned at Josie. “Looks like you’re safe for the night.”

  “From mice and men,” she said with a chuckle. “Thanks.”

  She walked him to the door, and when his eyes met hers, memories stirred between them. In the time it took to blink, they were back in the bar, back in each other’s arms.

  Later, Josephine couldn’t have said how long they stood there, close but not touching, remembering. Then, just when she thought she would die if she couldn’t step into his arms, he said thickly, “I’ve got to go. Good night.”

  No! she wanted to cry. But it was too late. He was gone.

  Chapter 6

  Josephine knew she was in trouble when she dreamed about Wiley all night long. Finally falling asleep around four in the morning, she woke at eight when she found herself reaching for him. Groaning, she rolled to her back, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. This couldn’t be happening! She couldn’t be dreaming about Wiley because of one kiss! She’d been kissed before, for heaven’s sake. Granted, that was four years ago, and Arnold Shoemaker was no Wiley Valentine. He’d worn his belt cinched tightly at his waist and never did anything without consulting his mother. The only reason she’d gone out with him was because she was friends with his cousin, who had begged her to give him a chance. He had kissed her, not the other way around, and she certainly hadn’t dreamed about him or the kiss later.

  Wiley, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Why did he have to be sexy? Sexy men weren’t interested in her—they never gave her a second look. Or at least they never had before.

  Wiley was just making sure Sanchez didn’t get a good look at either one of you, that irritating little voice in her head reminded her. Don’t get all warm and fuzzy on the inside. That kiss was strictly business.

  Unable to deny the truth, she sighed. She knew better than to daydream. Women like her didn’t get that luxury. She was a good person, a hard worker, intelligent and caring, but she wasn’t was the kind men found exciting. She’d accepted long ago that she never would be.

  That was okay, she told herself. She could still work with Wiley, still enjoy his company. Thanks to Boonie, her life would never be boring again.

  Grinning at the thought, she rolled out of bed and stepped over to her closet. It was Saturday, and the office wa
s closed. Maybe she’d spend the morning reading more of Boonie’s diaries, then explore the Riverwalk later in the afternoon. She’d find somewhere nice to have dinner—

  The doorbell rang then, startling her. On her perch in the living room, Ethel chimed, “Domino’s! Time to eat!”

  Josie laughed. “It’s eight o’clock in the morning, silly. Trust me—I didn’t order pizza.”

  Hurriedly slipping on a robe, she strode to the front door, wondering who could possibly be ringing her doorbell so early on a Saturday morning. She didn’t know a soul in town except…

  “Wiley!” she said, trying to look stern. “What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

  “Of course I do,” he retorted. Leering at her teasingly, he grinned at the sight of her Winnie the Pooh pjs. “Did I happen to mention how much I love Pooh?”

  Struggling not to smile, she ignored the heat climbing in her cheeks and said, “You can’t just drop by whenever the mood strikes you. Especially not at the crack of dawn on a Saturday!”

  Far from chastised, he only grinned. “It’s not the crack of dawn—the sun’s been up for hours and it’s time for a little adventure. Are you game?”

  The wicked sparkle in his eyes had her heart tripping over itself. Wary, remembering all too well just how intoxicating his brand of adventure was, she hesitated. “For what?”

  “After I got home last night, I was doing a little detective work on the computer and discovered that Sanchez not only owns a motorcycle but he’s heavily into the riding scene around town. And there’s a memorial ride and picnic today to honor a friend of his who was killed in an accident last month. I thought we’d go.”

  She blinked. “This is a joke…right? You want me to ride a motorcycle?”

  “You don’t have to make it sound like I’m asking you to strip naked and ride down the street like Lady Godiva,” he teased. “I’ll drive. All you have to do is sit behind me and hang on.”

  When she just looked skeptical, he said, “C’mon, live a little. Sanchez will be there—he helped organize it. We can tail him all day and have fun, too. How many times can you combine work and play? It’s the perfect setup.”

  “But what about his wife? If the guy who died was such a good friend of his, won’t she come, too?”

  “Are you kidding? Olivia Sanchez is a high-class lady who devotes most of her time to charity work for children. Trust me, she wouldn’t be caught dead on a motorcycle. And while the cat’s away…”

  “The rat will play,” she finished for him. “You expect him to bring his date from last night, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. He could bring someone else. After all, we don’t know that he’s just seeing one woman. He’s a powerful man who probably never hears the word no. He could be cheating on his wife with a whole slew of women.”

  He had a point. Why would Roberto Sanchez limit himself to one woman when he could probably have anyone he wanted? “If this ride is with some kind of motorcycle club, won’t Sanchez and his friends know we don’t belong there?”

  “It’s a memorial ride advertised on the Internet,” he replied. “There’ll be a lot of people there Sanchez won’t know. And you don’t have to worry about him recognizing us from last night,” he added, reading her mind. “I came prepared. Black leather covers up a host of sins.”

  He held up a large plastic bag which she’d only just then noticed and pulled out a biker jacket. “I’ve got everything you need,” he told her. “Go ahead and try it on.”

  Josephine knew she should have said thanks, but no thanks. She really did need to rethink being a PI—it was turning out to be a lot riskier than she’d first thought. But when she should have turned Wiley down, the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, she found herself wondering what she would look like dressed as a biker.

  “You’re tempted, aren’t you?”

  Looking up from her thoughts, she found him grinning knowingly at her. Caught redhanded, she had to laugh. “You don’t play fair. How did you guess?”

  His blue eyes twinkling, he shrugged. “I don’t know. You look like one of those women who played it safe your entire life. There’s nothing wrong with that,” he assured her, “but there’s got to be a secret part of you that longs to be daring.”

  She hardly knew the man, yet he knew her better than she knew herself. Before Boonie died and left her her share in the detective agency, Josephine would have sworn that she was completely satisfied with her safe, unexciting world. Obviously, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “All right, so maybe I’ve wondered what it would feel like to ride down the street on the back of a motorcycle or be a lingerie model and walk down a runway in my underwear. That doesn’t mean I’d actually do it.”

  “Damn,” he swore teasingly. “I never even thought of a lingerie model. I must be slipping.”

  “Don’t get any ideas, Einstein,” she warned, fighting a smile. “Black leather’s one thing. Lingerie’s a whole other category.”

  Far from disappointed, he only grinned. “One can only hope.” Pushing the bag of clothes into her arms, he nodded toward her bedroom. “Go on. Go try them on. Let’s see how you like being a motorcycle mama.”

  The old Josephine, the librarian who’d never done anything more adventuresome than pay her bills online rather than through the mail, would have quickly come up with an excuse and let him go on the bike ride alone. The woman he insisted on calling Josie—the woman who was secretly beginning to like the name Josie—couldn’t go back to the safe, quiet life she’d lived in the past. She was going, but this time, she wouldn’t get caught up in the game they were playing and forget that their “dates” were just pretend.

  Hurrying into her room, she dumped the contents of the bag out on the antique iron bed she’d inherited from Boonie, then laughed. Black leather pants and jacket, black tank top, curly red wig and sunglasses. She would have to ask Wiley where he’d gotten the outfit at eight o’clock in the morning and who had provided it. Pulling off her pajamas, she reached for the black leather pants.

  A few minutes later, she stood before the mirror and stared at herself in amazement. Even with no makeup, she looked nothing like a librarian. In fact, she looked as though she’d never walked into a library in her life! And she loved it!

  But she still had some work to do.

  Sitting down at the old-fashioned dressing table that was still decorated with Boonie’s favorite old pictures, she quickly pinned up her hair, then pulled on the wig. A few minutes later, she reached for her makeup. Grinning at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. And the day hadn’t even begun!

  “What’s she doing in there, Ethel?” Wiley asked the parrot as he paced restlessly. “How long does it take to change clothes and plop a wig on her head?”

  “A lifetime,” Ethel responded promptly. “Pull up a chair!”

  “You nut,” he said with a chuckle. “And no, I’m not pulling up a chair. We’ve got to get going. If she’s not out in two minutes, I’m going in after her.”

  “Twooo minutes!” the parrot cried like a basketball announcer announcing the approaching end of a game. “You’ve got two minutes!”

  The words were hardly out of the bird’s mouth when Wiley heard Josie’s bedroom door open. Whirling, he’d meant to tease her about primping, but he took one look at her and felt as if he’d been struck in the heart with an arrow. Black leather on Josephine London should have been outlawed. She looked incredible…and nothing like the woman he’d gotten to know over the course of the last few days. He could see her on a bike, on his bike, feel her arms around his waist, her body leaning into his as they raced down the highway as though they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “I guess I don’t have to ask you how I look,” she said, fighting a smile. “I take it you approve?”

  “Approve?” he stuttered, snapping out of his daze. “You’ve got to be kidding! Of course I approve. Y
ou look incredible!”

  “I feel pretty incredible,” she admitted. “I should have bought a wig years ago! Do you know how freeing this is? My own mother wouldn’t recognize me in this getup!”

  If her mother was as prim and proper as Josephine, she would have a fit if she saw her daughter in black leather, Wiley thought with a grin. But that was a thought he kept to himself.

  “Boonie would be proud of you,” he told her. “You look nothing like the woman who walked into that bar last night.”

  “Thank you,” she said huskily. “And thank you for letting me be a part of all this. I’m having the time of my life.”

  Surprised, he said, “You don’t have to thank me, Josie. You’re a partner.”

  “But you didn’t have to make it so much fun,” she replied. “I’m having a blast!”

  She wasn’t the only one. Wiley couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a case so much. And it was all because of Josie. He’d been up at the crack of dawn, so excited about going with her on the bike ride that he hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d gotten a friend who owned a bike shop to open his shop before seven, then he’d bought Josie everything she would need for their ride—all without even knowing if he could talk her into going with him.

  He’d lost his mind and all perspective—he readily admitted it. If he’d had any sense, he would have avoided her like the plague this morning. But he couldn’t stay away from her, and that scared the hell out of him. He’d never had such a strong reaction to a woman in his life. Every time she smiled, laughed with delight when she did something for the first time, she totally captivated him. Right or wrong, there was no way he could walk away from her.

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he told her with a grin. “Come on. Let’s go see what kind of trouble we can get into.”

  They didn’t have to go far…only as far as Wiley’s bike. The second Josie gingerly climbed on the motorcycle behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, they both could have sworn they heard—and felt—the other catch their breath. Hearts started to pound, but neither said a word about the awareness that throbbed between them.