An Irresistible Man

by Kylie Brant

  The man shrugged. “Been around. You just didn’t look in the right places.”

  “What can you tell us about Ramsey’s shooting?” Madeline asked.

  “I saw the gun and I yelled at everyone to get down. Ramsey was too slow. Bullets were spraying, and he took a couple of them.”

  “You don’t seem too concerned about his getting hit,” Cruz noted.

  His words drew no reaction from the man in front of them. “What good would my concern do Ramsey? I been to see him a couple times, he tell you that? I’m making sure his bills get paid. That’ll do him a lot more good than my concern.”

  “You’re taking care of his hospital bills, huh?” Cruz rested a hip against the car next to his. “That’s real good of you, Dirk. You’re a prince. Just how do you manage to do that, since your parole officer tells me you haven’t stuck to a job for more than a few weeks at a time?”

  The man’s tone iced. “I got friends, man, I don’t need no job.”

  “Who do you think did the shooting?”

  “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to find out instead of wasting time asking me all these question?”

  “Well, tell you what I think, Dirk,” Cruz said. His arms were crossed and he leaned back, one foot bracing himself against the bumper of the car. He could have been discussing the cure for crabgrass with a neighbor. “I think you know who shot at you guys that day. I think it was a rival gang, and you know what else? I think they were shooting at you. That’s why you’ve been keeping such a low profile lately. And I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that you were planning to get some revenge for it, either.”

  Cantoney threw his head back and laughed, an ugly sound. “Martinez, you got some imagination. Why are you accusing me of something you think might happen?” His eyes slid to Madeline and he said, “You better tell him, lady. Get him back on the right track. You guys are supposed to be looking for someone who almost killed Ramsey Elliot, not busting my ass.”

  “All Detective Martinez is telling you is that we’re going to be watching. Very closely. If there’s another shooting, we’re going to be looking for you.” Her gaze was steady.

  He snorted. “Typical cops. Come after me when I ain’t even done nothing.”

  “Never said you did, Dirk.” Cruz’s tone was pleasant. “Just want to keep it that way.”

  Cantoney pushed himself away from the car and sauntered off without another word. Madeline got in the car and waited for Cruz to join her. When he did, she started the engine and headed back toward district headquarters. “I hope we didn’t tip him off by warning him like that.”

  “I doubt anything we said to him had much effect. He’s smart. If he’s planning a retaliation, and I’d bet my paycheck he is, he’s already got the whole thing planned, especially how to avoid getting caught at it.”

  “He didn’t seem too worried about us keeping an eye on him,” Madeline mused. “That could mean a couple of different things. Either he isn’t planning on making a move…”

  “Which I don’t believe for a minute,” Cruz put in.

  “Neither do I.” Someone with Cantoney’s history of assaults for the most imaginary slights couldn’t possibly be expected to ignore getting shot at. Especially if Cruz’s hunch was correct and Cantoney himself had been the target. “It could also mean that he’s already purchased a gun, and has figured out how to get away with retaliating. Or maybe someone else will actually be dealing on the gun, so it wouldn’t matter how long we watched him.”

  “I’m betting he hasn’t gotten his hands on it yet. He’s bright, but he has a real short fuse. I don’t think he could hold off using it for long. I also don’t doubt he has plenty of weapons he can use. He just wants to get his hands on the same type of gun. It’s a prestige thing. And while he’s dealing on one he’s just biding his time. Because he has it all figured out who did the shooting and how he’s going to hit back,” Cruz said grimly. “And the bastard knows there’s nothing we can do but wait.”

  “Wait for more bodies to show up?” Madeline grimaced. She didn’t like the thought of that.

  “Unless Ritter manages to convince Jacobs to offer that plea bargain to Stover, our options are limited at this point.”

  Madeline nodded, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She should be used to this, after all the years she’d been on the force, but these occasional brick walls that cropped up in most investigations always made her impatient. She had never been one to enjoy spinning her wheels while some perp was on the loose. She glanced at Martinez. If he shared her frustration, it didn’t show. He was slouched in the seat with his head on the headrest, looking for all the world as if he could drop off to sleep at any second. How did he do that? The man seemed to have no vertebrae. He was constantly leaning on whatever happened to be handy, and she’d yet to see him sit up straight.

  A smile pulled at her lips. She’d been reminded of her posture so often as a child that by now it was second nature. Perhaps she was just jealous of his ability to be comfortable no matter the circumstances. But he was a little too comfortable, she decided. In an instant her hand went to the radio and she turned it up full blast. She grinned as his big body jackknifed straight up, his eyes flying open. He turned to fix her with an accusing look.

  “Oops,” she said without apology, turning the radio back down.

  His face turned pained. “Please tell me, Madeline, that you’re not one of those women who can’t stand to see a man at rest.”

  “The last time I saw a man looking that restful they piled six feet of dirt on top of him.”

  He chuckled. “Witch.”

  “If you need that much test, you must have a big weekend ahead of you,” she noted with studied indifference.

  Cruz’s lips curved as he thought of the plans he had for the next two days. “The biggest,” he agreed cryptically. He studied her as she brought the car to a halt and switched off the ignition. “Now why do I have the feeling that your little trick a minute ago was in response to our conversation at the Blue Pelican?”

  “I don’t get mad,” she acknowledged sweetly, “I get even.”

  His smile widened. “I don’t know about that. I seem to recall a hint of temper earlier.”

  Somehow she’d known that her reaction had been duly noted by him, and that he’d invoked it purposely. “Martinez, you can be a real pain, did anyone ever tell you that?” she asked as they got out and she handed him the keys.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think anyone else has put it quite that way,” he denied cheerfully. He slanted her a look. “What do you have planned this weekend?”

  She walked toward her own car. “Nothing.”

  “Got a date?”

  Gosh, he was nosy. “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  She looked at him impatiently. He hadn’t learned a thing from that little payback she’d staged. “Maybe you should mind your own business.”

  “What fun would that be?”

  She unlocked her car and got in, returning his careless wave as they parted. She didn’t spend more than a few moments admiring the way his taut male buttocks moved as he sauntered toward the building.

  As she drove away, Madeline reflected that it would be a lot easier to investigate Cruz Martinez if he wasn’t so darn likable.

  Chapter 5

  Saturday morning found Madeline immersed in her normal routine, but in concession to the adjective Martinez had pinned on her yesterday, she varied the times of each chore from her regular schedule. There, just let him call me regimented now! she thought smugly, thinking of how she had worked out at the gym before tackling the cleaning. She’d stopped for her usual creme-filled doughnut on the way home from the gym, though. Just because he’d correctly guessed the precise way she ordered her life didn’t mean that she needed to listen to his disparaging comments about what she ate. She enjoyed her unconventional eating habits and firmly believed that chocolate was the fifth food group. Since she was in excellent health and had weig
hed the same for the past ten years, she saw no reason to change those particular habits now.

  When the doorbell rang she checked the peephole with her usual caution, even knowing that the visitor would be her neighbor, Ariel.

  “Madeline, it’s been ages since we talked. I tried to catch you one morning this week, but I just missed you. You were already in the elevator.” She flew into the room with her usual hurry, talking nonstop. She went immediately to the kitchen area, pulled a stool up to the counter and sat with a flourish, arranging the folds of her robe neatly around her. When she finally looked at her friend, she blinked. “Aren’t you going to the gym today?” she asked. “Why aren’t you dressed for it yet?”

  Madeline looked down at her jeans and T-shirt. “I’ve been already,” she answered. “I’ve just finished cleaning.”

  Ariel widened her heavily made-up eyes in shock and held a hand to her heart theatrically. “You changed your schedule? You? Is the world coming to an end? This is it, isn’t it, one of the great signs in the book of Revelations that my minister is always quoting. I’m going right home to repent.”

  Her neighbor rolled her eyes. “You’re surprised,” she said with masterful understatement. It was uncanny the way Ariel walked right in and cheerfully took up where Cruz had left off commenting about her life. It was also irritating. Was she really so predictable? Yes, she answered her own question. But it was a conscious choice, not a compulsion. No matter what the two busybodies in her life seemed to think.

  “No, surprise doesn’t cover it,” Ariel responded. “Do you have any of those doughnuts-thanks,” she said as Madeline pushed the bag over to her. Without waiting for an invitation she went to the cupboard with an ease that spoke of long familiarity and, taking out a mug, poured herself some coffee. Returning to her seat, she continued, “Surprise is when you win the lottery, or when your mother tells you that she’s running off to Bermuda with a taxi driver to learn to samba. Surprise might even describe your feeling when you walk into the bedroom and find your date trying on your lingerie. But this…” She bit into the doughnut and closed her eyes in appreciation. “This surpasses surprise. Colossal, earthshaking, monumental, absolutely mind-blowing shock comes much closer to describing the wonder of Madeline Casey changing her schedule.” She nodded effusively to negate her friend’s grimace at her words. “Now the only question is, what would elicit such a change? Gotta be a man,” she said wisely, taking another bite from the doughnut.

  “You’ve been drinking too much of that herbal tea again,” Madeline told her friend flatly. She loved Ariel dearly, but sometimes she felt like strangling her, and now was one of those times. She was really the only person Madeline knew in the condominium complex, even after living there three years. If Ariel had her sights set on getting to know someone, the person hadn’t much choice in the matter. She could be rather forceful in her neighborliness. But Madeline had grown genuinely close to her despite, or perhaps because of, their differences. Ariel was as effusive as Madeline was reserved. With her wacky style of dressing, makeup and far-out hairstyles, she was the antithesis of Madeline. She also had the unfortunate knack for acknowledging no boundaries of privacy regarding personal lives. As a result, Madeline had few secrets from her friend. Her usual aloofness couldn’t withstand the assault of Ariel’s good-natured prying. It was easier to give in and tell her what she wanted to know. But Madeline had no intention of humoring her latest flight of fancy. “Can’t a person alter her day off a little on a whim?”

  Ariel had finished the doughnut and was licking her fingers with delicate greed. “Other people can, you can’t. Something had to happen to shake you out of that rigid mold you keep yourself in. So what gives? Tell Auntie Ariel all about it,” she cooed, resting her chin on folded hands and staring at Madeline with avid interest.

  Madeline laughed in spite of herself. “How about if we skip talking about my life and you just go get one of your own?”

  Ariel shook her head. “Been there, tried it. Failed and flopped, with a few disasters thrown in along the way. I’m resting from life, recharging before I march out there and get shot down again. That’s why I depend on you to bring me a little vicarious excitement along the way. Very little, I might add,” she finished drolly.

  “I’m sorry to be such a disappointment to you,” Madeline remarked dryly. She had no doubt that her dull life was of little real interest to her friend, who lived a colored one of her own. Most of the surprises she’d mentioned a few minutes ago had actually happened to her, according to some of the hugely entertaining stories she’d recounted to Madeline. Ariel collected experiences and husbands with equal fervor, both to be regretted at later dates. At last count she’d been married four times, and proclaimed to be taking a break from the search for number five as she tried out numerous prospects.

  “C’mon, Madeline, don’t make me beg. For once just come right out and tell me. Who is he?”

  “What makes you think a man is involved?” Madeline asked, stalling for time. Although Cruz Martinez could be credited for her decision to vary her day a little, he was not playing the kind of role in her life that Ariel was imagining. Nor was he likely to. Madeline didn’t go out with obscenely good-looking men, men she was professionally involved with, and especially not with men who might be criminals. But she had no intention of telling Ariel all of that. Ariel would be fascinated; she would think it was exciting, for heaven’s sake.

  Ariel waved her hand dismissively, as if the question didn’t even deserve an answer. “All of a woman’s important changes are brought on by a man. Men we love, men we hate, men we want to love, men we wished we hated… it’s destined. One of the realities of life. So-o-o, tell me, dear,” she said with a wicked smile, “about the man who caused these variations in your life today.”

  Madeline smiled to herself. She might not agree with all of her friend’s ideas, or even with most of them, but she had to admit that listening to Ariel was amusing. “Sorry to disappoint you, but the only man in my life at the moment is my father, and it would take a high-priced analyst many years to help me figure out which of your four categories he would fit into.”

  “Oh.” Ariel was instantly sympathetic. “You must have had another of your horrible dinners with him. How bad was it?”

  “The usual.” Now that some time had passed, Madeline could think about the evening with a little humor. “He was condescending, I was defensive. He got high-handed, I got angry. He began giving advice, I began shouting…” She shrugged. “It kind of deteriorated from there.”

  “Parents.” Ariel sighed. “They never stop trying to pull our strings.”

  “It’s some kind of strange Pavlovian response. I hear his voice on the phone, and…” She snapped her fingers. “Instant immaturity.” She waited a few moments and then added nonchalantly, “I did get assigned a new case this week.”

  Ariel pulled a face. Madeline didn’t talk much about her job. Ariel had only the vaguest idea of what she did. But as far as she was concerned, Madeline spent entirely too much time thinking about work. In her opinion, what her friend needed most in her life was a few long nights in bed with a hot-blooded hunk to help her redefine her priorities. But try telling her that.

  Ignoring Ariel’s lack of enthusiasm at the change of subject, Madeline continued. “I’ve also acquired a partner for the duration of the investigation.”

  A flicker of interest passed over Ariel’s face. “A man?”

  “Uh-huh.” Madeline went and poured her own cup of coffee and came back and sat down again. “His name is Cruz Martinez.”

  “Ooh, what a positively yummy name.” Instantly intrigued, Ariel’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me more. Does he look as good as he sounds?”

  Madeline affected an indifferent shrug. “Depends on what you like. He’s about fifty-five, fat, short and balding,” she lied blandly. She felt a moment of glee picturing Cruz’s reaction to her description of him. “He has seven children and loves fishing. He talks about it al
l the time.” When she saw Ariel’s face fall, she almost regretted misleading her. But not enough to tell her the truth and have to listen to the smug comments that would bring.

  “Just your luck,” Ariel muttered. “Sometimes I think you and I were born under the same planet. Although, of course, I know better, having done your astrology chart for you last month. Actually, when I examined your chart, I couldn’t really find any reason for the dismal luck you’ve had in your love life. Mine, now, that’s a different story. As soon as I did my chart and saw that Venus was squared with Saturn, I thought, well, of course! That explains…”

  Madeline’s thoughts drifted off as her friend chattered on. She’d heard it all before, at length. She didn’t share Ariel’s interest in astrology, any more than she believed in her philosophy of life. Actually, she felt the same about both. They were entertaining, but pointless. Events were caused by nature or people. She might not be able to control either one, but she certainly could control the effect they had on her, and she did so, stringently. Caution had always been her middle name, steady her pace and Look First her motto.

  That hadn’t saved her from the mistake she’d made with Dennis Belding, however. He’d known just how to get through all her defenses. He’d taken his time, soothed her fears with his calm, understanding manner. He’d seemed so harmless. And he’d almost brought her life crashing down around her ears. If she didn’t despise him so much, she could almost admire the accuracy with which he’d read her character and the ease with which he’d transformed himself into the kind of man she would be drawn to and trust. Only for as long as he needed her, of course. Just as long as it took to have free access to her and, through her, to her father. There was no telling how many times he’d helped himself to the papers in her father’s office before he was caught. Certainly he’d had plenty of opportunity. Her father had liked him, and invitations to the house had been frequent. Dennis had told her he wanted to be the bridge that mended the chasm between her father and herself.