She dove into the water; her body cut the water like a knife. Jack moved forward, staring at the mermaid mirage that swam toward him under the water.
Eve surfaced in front of him, gasping for air. Wiping her long wet hair from her face, she climbed out of the pool and, water streaming from her body, she walked forward until she stood in front of Jack.
Jack felt his breath quicken as he concentrated on not staring at her. The way her bathing suit clung to every curve, the way her nipples pushed against the thin, wet fabric – making him want to reach out and…
“I’m Enid.”
Jack gave a start. He’d forgotten the kid.
“Would you like some lemonade?” Eve asked Enid.
“Sure.”
Jack remained silent. He was horrified at the strength of his emotions. He wanted Eve like he never thought it possible to want a woman.
“What would you like?” Eve asked Jack.
Jack grimaced. He had the uneasy feeling that she read him like a cheap novel.
“Iced tea for me,” a woman’s voice called out from behind him.
Jack spun around, disconcerted. He wasn’t used to missing things. Especially people.
Laura Hargrove was twenty-two and so pale that she seemed almost translucent. Her light yellow bikini did nothing to diminish the impression of fragility as she tucked a tendril of her baby blond hair behind her ear. Her pale blue eyes shone with hostility and were aimed at Jack’s obvious hard-on.
Jack felt his face go hot as he suppressed the urge to kick the chair out from under her bony ass.
“My sister, Laura. Laura, this is Enid and…?” Eve gave him a quizzical smile, like they’d never met.
“Jack Fox.” He held out his hand to Laura, who ignored it.
“Laura, can you entertain Enid while Mr. Fox and I talk?”
Laura tilted her head in what might be construed as a nod.
“Nice meeting you,” Jack said, sarcastically.
Eve disappeared into the dark interior and, with a quick “stay here” look at Enid, Jack followed. He found himself watching the sway of Eve’s hips as she left high arched wet footprints behind her. She led him into a library that had a strangely decadent feel.
Jack’s eyes fell on a framed photograph. He picked it up, examining it. It was the three sisters in their early teens. Jeni struggling with a fake smile as a frowning Laura shrank from the camera. Eve was in the foreground, gazing into the camera, eyes dark and challenging.
Eve snatched the photograph from his hands. “Is this your idea of discretion?”
Jack smiled, feeling on firmer ground at the sound of irritation in her voice. He nodded in the direction of the patio and Laura. “Sweet girl. Bit too talky for my taste.”
Eve’s lips tightened.
Jack reached out, slipped his fingers under her amber necklace and held it up so that it gleamed.
Eve recoiled, clutching at her necklace. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Amber. Like your stepfather’s ring.”
“They never found his ring,” Eve said, her voice sharp as a sewing needle.
“Or nine of his fingers,” Jack retorted, suddenly feeling more in control.
Eve eyed him coolly. “Mr. Fox, you work for me. I paid you.”
“Too much.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Way too much,” Jack emphasized.
Eve studied him.
“Like you’re up to no good.” Jack stepped close, his voice soft. “Miss Hargrove, are you up to no good?”
Eve’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. After several moments, she said in a frigid voice, “Let’s get something straight…!”
Jack closed the space between them. “How ‘bout we get straight – I ain’t your bitch so stop barkin’.”
They locked eyes.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. Her lips yielded, kissing back and Jack felt an exultation surge through him. Wave after wave, it wrecked him to the core.
Somewhere, from deep within the mansion, a door slammed. The spell was shattered.
Eve’s slap bit into his face. “Get out!” She backed away, rubbing her lips with the back of her hand.
Jack forced himself to give her a slow cool grin. With a mock salute, he strode out.
When he reached his car, he abruptly stopped.
The kid!
He turned as Enid came bounding out the front door.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jack snapped.
Enid’s eyes flashed with hurt.
His cell rang and he snapped it open, “What?”
Rachel answered timidly, “Jack?”
“What’d you find out?” Jack asked, trying to ignore the wounded expression on Enid’s face.
“Is everything okay?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah,” Jack said, feeling like a jackass.
Enid was scowling at him, trying to act like she didn’t give a shit.
“Hold on,” Jack covered the receiver and said to Enid, “Look, I lost my temper. I’m not used to being tailed by…” His words trailed off – he didn’t know what to call her.
“Who’s tailing you?” Rachel asked. “FYI, if you think you just apologized – that wasn’t it.”
“Tell me you got something – I need an address.” He listened, frowning.
Jack hung up and got in the car. He gripped the steering wheel, feeling disgusted with himself. He hated losing his temper, losing control. Over the years, he had prided himself on keeping his cool and not letting things, especially women, get to him.
Enid knocked on the passenger window.
Shit!
Jack unlocked the passenger door and Enid hopped in. “Forget something?”
As Jack was pulling out, a truck pulled in. It had the license plate of an unmarked detective’s vehicle. Jack stopped, waited.
A sixty-something detective got out and shot him a look that made Jack suspect that he was looking at a man who would question rain falling from the heavens as being rain falling from the heavens – unless it was certified by God himself, DNA evidence and a solid I.D. from Mother Mary.
A disgustingly handsome man in his twenties got out of the passenger side. Jack heard Enid suck in her breath. He found himself glaring at the younger man’s perfect physique with a mixture of admiration and envy.
Did I ever even look half that good?
“Are you here to see Eve Hargrove?” Jack called out to the older man.
“Who are you?” The detective walked over.
“Jack Fox, private detective.” Jack got out of the car.
“Detective Bud Orlean.” His eyes flickered as he shook Jack’s hand.
It was the flicker of recognition that Jack knew all too well. Whenever an old-timer on the force heard his name, they might not know him, but they remembered his father. And he knew damn well they all knew the stories.
“What brings you here?” Bud said.
Enid materialized beside Jack. She gazed at the handsome guy with lovesick eyes. “Hi.”
Chip took her outstretched hand. “Hi.”
Enid held his hand in hers, unwilling to let it go. “Call me Veronica.”
Jack shot her a startled look.
Veronica?
Chip smiled with a warmly humble quality that even Jack had to admit was charming. Enid’s mouth formed a soundless ‘O’ of admiration.
Jack made a face, pulled Enid toward the car. “Come on, Veronica, we’ve got to get you back to the nunnery.”
Enid allowed herself to be maneuvered to the car, her eyes never leaving Chip’s face. Jack met Bud’s wry eyes as he deposited Enid in the front seat and shut the door. He locked her in.
Enid tried the handle and found it locked. She glowered at Jack as he walked back and handed Detective Orlean a business card. “In case I can be of any assistance.”
“Detective Orlean?” the butler called out from the front doors.
Bud held th
e card in the air in a “thank you” as he walked toward the mansion.
Jack watched them disappear, wishing he was a fly on the wall. He unlocked the driver’s side door, but Enid slapped it down, locking it.
Jack frowned and, using his clicker, unlocked it.
She slapped it again.
“What the hell…!”
“How’s it feel?” Enid said tauntingly. “Child locks also work on immature adults!”
“Open the door, you little…!”
“What?” Enid asked with narrowed eyes.
Jack bent down, enunciating his words, “Open. The. Door. Veronica.”
After a long moment, a scowling Enid allowed Jack to unlock his door. He got in.
“No fun being treated like a kid, is it?” Enid sniped as Jack started the car.
“I’m not the kid. You are.”
“I’m not a kid,” Enid said, tossed her head. “I’m a young woman on the verge of womanhood.”
“Before you start booking the honeymoon suite for you and Dudley-Do-Wrong over there, you need to step back from the ‘verge’ before I knock you back.”
“Violence!” Enid exclaimed in mock shock.
“Until I can deliver you back to wherever or whoever you belong to…” Jack abruptly stopped, remembering that Sam had told him her mother was dead.
“I’m not going anywhere and you can’t make me.”
“How old are you?”
“Gee, I don’t know, how’s your math?” Enid pretended to get out an invisible calculator and punch in numbers, “Let’s see, a drunken one-night stand, nine months…”
“All right! All right!” Jack waved her into silence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Almost all our desires, when examined, contain something too shameful to reveal.
–Victor Hugo
“The kid has eyes for you,” Bud told Chip, their footsteps echoing under the domed entryway.
“She’s just a kid,” Chip shrugged.
“What do you want?” Eve’s voice came from above.
Bud and Chip looked up.
Eve stood at the top of the staircase, one hand gracefully resting on the rail as she gazed down at them. She had a sheer wrap over her still-wet bathing suit. Bud heard Chip’s breath catch and immediately regretted bringing him along.
Why didn’t I listen to Bunnie?
Bud felt his alarm growing as Eve sauntered down the stairs, her eyes focused on Chip with the intensity of a cat eyeing a bug.
Bud glanced at Chip and was startled to see he had a besotted expression that could compete with the way the kid had been sopping Chip up with her eyes.
“Should I have the maid prepare a guest bedroom for you, Detective Orlean?” Eve smiled, sweet as saccharin. “You’re here so much, I’m thinking of declaring you as a dependent on my 1040.”
Bud felt a dull ache in his jaw and realized he was clenching. He took a deep breath and said in a controlled voice, “DNA confirmed the body is Daniel Hargrove.”
“Oh!” Eve staggered back.
Chip bounded forward, wrapping his arms around her waist to steady her from falling. She leaned into him, fluttering her eyelashes up at him. Chip gazed down at her, his face flush with emotion.
Bud grunted in disgust, stepped forward and roughly shoved Chip away. Eve staggered, almost falling. She caught herself and glared at Bud with hostility.
“Dad!”
Eve’s eyes lit up in delight as she met Bud’s eyes and repeated, “Daddy?”
“Are you all right?” Chip asked Eve.
Eve was in the process of melting him a smile that Bud instinctively knew would nail that kid’s feet to the floor. Bud grabbed Chip, hauled him across the floor and shoved him out the front door like he was an eight-year-old. Bud had a glimpse of Chip’s shocked face as he slammed the door behind him, locking it.
“My, my, my,” Eve purred. “What a pretty boy you have.”
Bud breathed heavily, not daring to speak.
“Why’d you bring him to me? A gift?”
“You sick, twisted…!”
“Don’t worry, detective, he’s too young for me. I like my men older and…” Eve leaned in, touched his collar where it met his skin.
Bud shivered.
“Wiser.” Her breath was hot against his neck.
Bud her shoved away and got out as fast as if he’d been standing in an open flame. He was unnerved by the deeply unsettling sensation of being unsure of who he was trying to save – Chip…
Or himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Is it not these well-fed long-haired men that I fear, but the pale and hungry- looking.
–Julius Caesar
Enid was dying to ask Jack where he was going to be dumping her off, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. It didn’t matter anyway – she came, she met her “father” and…
I want to punch his stupid face!
Every time she thought about how he locked her in the car like she was some idiot kid, she felt a hot rush of stinging tears. Not only did he humiliate her, he did it in front of the most incredible guy in the entire world.
Chip.
The sound of his name was like honey and butter. His face, his body, the sound of his voice was chiseled in her mind, and she luxuriated in the memory of when she first saw his gorgeousness standing there like he was a normal human being.
Not!
Then she remembered Jack hustling her to the car and humiliating her right in front of the only man she knew she could ever love!
She looked at Jack – calmly driving the car – ugh! She wanted to reach her hand into his chest like a ninja-magician-warrior and rip his still-pumping heart out and feed it to his stupid face!
She clenched her fists, unaware that a maniacal smile was distorting her face.
Jack glanced at her. After a moment, he asked, “You need me to stop? You look like you’re trying to pinch a loaf.”
“How could you embarrass me like that?” Enid yelled.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jack said, surprised.
“Take me to the bus station.”
“You’ve got no money.”
“I’m sure I can find some pedophile who will be willing to defile me for ten bucks!”
Jack clenched the wheel.
“What do you care, anyway?” she demanded.
“Does this have something to do with – Chip?”
“No!” Enid snarled.
“Then get your bowels out of a bind and stop acting like a spoiled brat.”
Enid crossed her arms, staring forward.
Jack said, “You are along for the ride and I expect you to retain some semblance of a good attitude.”
“Good luck with that,” Enid retorted. She stared out the window, watching as the scenery changed from upscale manicured lawns and golf courses into something that looked more like how she envisioned the Wild West would have looked. Her stomach rumbled as they passed a “Welcome to Carefree” sign. Jack slowed the car to a crawl through a town of quirky art galleries, kitschy western stores and restaurants with names like “The Horny Toad” and “The Satisfied Frog.”
“You hungry?” Jack said.
Enid made a disparaging face that she hoped kept her “eat crap” attitude intact without quite saying “no” to the food. Several moments later, Enid felt her heart sink when she realized Jack had taken her reaction for a “no.”
He turned up a dirt driveway. An occasional saguaro jutted out, but the landscape was mostly low brush and mesquite trees. Turning a bend, Enid was startled to see what she could only describe as a homemade Jesus garden. She glanced at Jack and saw that he was as surprised as her.
“Relatives?” Enid asked wryly.
He gave her a look.
It was sheer Christian-crazy – from the store-bought Jesus statues to the handmade signs with dire warnings, Enid stared in amazement. There had to be a hundred of them.
Enid read alo
ud from a sign in red spray paint, “I will make mine arrows drunk with blood and my sword shall devour flesh.”
Jack parked in front of a giant agonized face of Jesus. Enid got out of the car, glanced around nervously. “Seriously, what’s up with the…?”
“This time, you stay in the car. This will only take a few minutes.”
“How much?”
“What?”
“Like you said – I’m broke. How much will you pay me to wait here?”
“Not one damned dime.”
Enid shrugged. “I don’t like your odds.”
“This is work. Wait here and when I’m done, I’ll buy you lunch.”
Enid made a face, shrugged. “I don’t want to meet your girlfriend anyway.”
Jack gave her a look and walked to the house. Enid thought she saw a curtain twitch, but wasn’t sure.
Enid got out and leaned against the car, looking up at the giant saguaro cactus that loomed near the house. If it got knocked over in a storm, it looked like it could crush the house. If it got knocked over right now, it would squish Jack like a bug. Enid smiled as she imagined the horrified look on his face as it crashed down on him. Enid shaded her eyes to get a better look and was startled to see a hawk perched on top, staring at her like she was prey.
“Turn ‘round, hands up!” a woman’s voice rasped.
Enid jerked forward, hands flying into the air. Her eyes darted around the yard, unsure of where the voice was coming from.
Maude Brisquet, a wizened woman who looked like sixty going on six hundred, was coming from behind the house, a shotgun pointed at Jack. Her loose-fitting housedress flecked with flour puffed out, revealing spindly legs. Her brown eyes in her wrinkled face reminded Enid of the hawk, which, at the sound of the woman’s voice, had taken flight.
Terrified that the old witch was going to shoot Jack, Enid bounded forward, shouting, “Hey!”
The old woman spun around – and the shotgun was pointed at her. Enid let out a croak that, in her head, translated to some magical words that would make the old woman drop the gun.
“Take it easy,” Jack said, his voice surprisingly soft and calm.
Enid glanced at him, too scared to speak.
Gunning For Angels (Fallen Angels Book 1) Page 9
