by Judi McCoy
Cupping her temples with her hands, Ellie stared at the business card. Why did Sam continue to do things that interfered with her life instead of staying away and letting her exist at her own pace?
“Say something.”
She ignored his plea, afraid if she raised her head she’d burst into tears. Was this his way of telling her she was an idiot, or was he trying to show that he truly cared?
He slipped a hand between her wrists, cupped her chin with his fingers, and lifted her face. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Ellie.”
She clasped his hand in her palms. “I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out by now. I was Gary’s friend. When I become someone’s friend, I stick by them no matter what.” She sniffed back a tear. “Even if they act like a crazed baboon every once in a while.”
Sam leaned toward her, his expression as soft as she’d ever seen it. “I want you for more than a friend, even when you drive me nuts.”
She opened her mouth to speak.
“And stop with the manic monkey references. The comparison isn’t flattering.”
Dropping her hands, she ignored the “more than a friend” comment and picked up her caramel bliss. “I’m not sure I can. What you did to Mr. Fenwick was so nasty I’m still simmering. Now I find out you’ve signed me up for classes in self-defense. It’s demeaning—it’s—why are you bossing me around?”
“I’m worried about you.”
She slouched in her seat—too bad if it looked like a full-body pout. “What is everybody’s problem?”
“Who, exactly, is everybody?”
“Mostly you and Vivian, but Randall and Pops have cautioned me about investigating this murder, as has Joe.”
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “You are not investigating this murder.”
“Not the way I did the professor’s, but Gary did assign me to the case. Why can’t people understand that?”
“They do understand, but they do not want to see you end up like Gary.”
“Even so, I don’t appreciate being treated like a kid who doesn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain. I have a brain, and it’s filled with common sense. I try hard not to do stupid things, but every once in a while stupid wins, like it does with most people.” She shrugged. “Even a hotshot officer of the law must know the feeling.”
“The last time I did something stupid, I neglected to make a promised phone call. So, yes, I know how it feels.”
Clasping her hand again, he circled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger. “I’d like for us to start over, but only if you want it, too.”
She had no idea what she was supposed to say in response, so she stood. “I’m starving, and you promised me dinner, so let’s get moving.”
Ellie and Sam shared a comfortable meal at one of the Wickery’s outdoor tables. Sam spent the time acting as the gracious host, something that took Ellie back to their one and only real date. The idea of starting up with him again was tempting, but something told her it would be smarter to go slow and make him work to get close to her. Besides, it was difficult thinking straight with this ordeal about Gary hanging over her head.
After an hour of pleasant conversation, she realized she had yet to let him in on her latest find and decided she might as well tell him. “I guess you should know what I did today, so you can’t accuse me of keeping you in the dark.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“I located the box that key is for—the one I found buried behind Gary’s shelter.”
“No kidding. Where?”
She filled him in, then said, “I wanted to go through the papers tonight, but it’s late.”
“I’d like to be there when you do. How about in the morning?” He grinned. “I’ll bring breakfast.”
At least he hadn’t assumed he’d be sleeping over. “That would be fine, but what about your job?”
“I closed a couple of cases, so I have some downtime coming, like tonight. I’m not on call again until Sunday.”
“And you’re buying breakfast?”
“Damn straight, I am.”
“Can I have anything I want?”
“Within reason, sure.”
“How about a plain bagel, toasted, with lox, cream cheese, capers, and tomato? I’ll have the coffee on. Say, nine o’clock?”
“That’s good for me.”
He signaled the waiter for the check, and she noticed the evening temperature had drifted to cool. When she realized the light was fading, she checked her watch and gasped. Thanks to Sam, she’d completely forgotten about Viv—and Rudy. Not that her friend would care, because Viv often made spur-of-the-moment dates with guys and left her hanging. They had an unwritten rule: accept a better offer if it came from a promising man. A good friend always forgave the slight.
But her fuzzy buddy would not be so kind, especially since he’d missed dinner.
“I have to call Viv,” she told him, pulling out her cell. “I’m late for our walk.” He signed the credit card slip while she made the connection. “Viv? I’m sorry, something came up—”
“Not a problem,” Viv whispered. “I’m entertaining.”
“Yeah, sometimes you’re a real laugh riot, but that’s not why I’m calling.”
“I have company,” she continued quietly.
“Male company?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Can I guess?”
Viv’s sigh echoed over the line. “One guess only. Then I’m hanging up.”
“Hold on. I’m pulling out my crystal ball.” Ellie waited a second before saying, “I see a big bird . . . an eagle . . . no, a heron . . . no, wait . . . a crane. Is it . . . can it be Dr. David Crane, vet to the pampered pets of the Upper East Side?”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, smarty pants. That’s all I can say for now.”
Smiling, Ellie snapped her phone closed.
Sam stood and pulled out her chair. “I take it Viv found a way to keep busy without you?”
“I’ll say. I just hope it works out.”
“She blew you off for a guy,” he said sagely. “Happens all the time.”
She followed him onto the sidewalk. “Viv and I have an understanding. Besides, I approve of the guy.”
“You know who it is?”
“I know him fairly well.” He took her arm as they crossed Lexington. “It’s Rudy’s vet.”
“That dog doctor? The one who took care of Buddy?”
“Dr. David Crane. He’s a very nice man.”
Sam snorted.
“What’s so funny?”
“I can’t see him with a woman like Vivian.”
They turned onto her street and headed for her apartment. “What do you mean ‘a woman like Vivian’? You’ve only met her what . . . twice? I doubt the two of you ever had more than a passing conversation.”
“Doesn’t matter. I know her type.”
“Viv is not a ‘type.’ She’s a good friend.”
“Right. That’s why she accepted a date with the vet instead of waiting for you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. If we’d planned something important, she’d have told him no, but it was just an evening walk. She knows I don’t mind going alone.”
“Which you won’t be doing anymore.” He followed her into the lobby of her apartment. When she didn’t comment on his dictum, he said, “Ellie, did you hear me?”
“I heard, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to listen.” She pounded up the steps. “Let me get Rudy, and we’ll take off. He’s probably crossing his hind legs and cursing me out—in doggie speak, of course.”
She opened the apartment door and found her pal waiting with his leash in his mouth.
“Where have you been? I’m dyin’ here.” He glanced around her legs. “Hey, you promised. No more Detective Doofus.”
“I promised no such thing,” she said, adding, “I hope you’ve been a good dog,” for Sam.
“Just promise me you’ll ne
ver go to Carl Schurz alone again,” Sam said. “Because it’s not up for discussion.”
Ellie refused to agree, so she hooked Rudy to his lead while Sam waited in the hall. Then she locked up and headed to street level. With her luck, her fuzzy pal would probably try to engage her in conversation, which would be next to impossible with the detective at her side.
Instead, Rudy stayed quiet while Sam fell into step beside her. “Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Because it’s late and I’m tired, and my guy has to pee and then some. I said you could walk me to the park, so keep up. I need my beauty sleep.”
“You fishing for compliments?”
“You always look good to me, Triple E.”
“I never fish.” She reached down and patted Rudy’s head. “Do I, big guy?”
“Because you don’t need to,” Sam said.
“My bullshit detector is gonna pop a blood vessel,”
Rudy announced. “You do realize he’s only looking for a place to park his testosterone?”
She tried for a faster pace, but Rudy lifted his leg a half dozen times as they walked, just because, she suspected, he wanted to annoy the detective.
“He’s got a bladder the size of a cashew,” muttered Sam on the ninth or tenth leg lift.
“Rudy’s a small dog—”
“With a big temper, Bozo.”
“But he’s still my protector. I doubt he’d let anyone near me he didn’t trust.”
“He can’t stop a bullet, Ellie. What more do I have to say to make you understand that?”
“I think you’ve said too much already.” Rudy jerked her to a stop and squatted. “Okay, big business underway. Good boy.” When he finished, she snapped open a plastic bag, collected the waste, and deposited it in the nearest trash receptacle. “We can go home now. I’ve decided it’s too late to hike to Carl Schurz.”
“Hey, that’s not what I ordered.”
“I said, ‘It’s too late to go to Carl Schurz,’ ” she repeated for the Yorkiepoo’s benefit. “I’m ready to go home.”
“I heard you the first time.” Sam took her hand, and her skin tingled. “And it’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”
They walked together, but her canine pal lagged behind until they reached her building. Sam escorted her up the porch steps, took her key and unlocked the main door, then followed her to the apartment. After he opened her door, she shooed Rudy inside to shut out what she was sure would intrusive doggie comments.
“So, you’re set for the night? No going to the park, or anywhere else, correct?” Sam propped his palms on the wall, caging her between his arms. “Say yes, because I don’t have the energy to worry about you for the next ten hours.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m done for the evening. I won’t even look at the stuff I found in the box until you show up with breakfast. Is that what you want to hear?”
“For now.”
He leaned toward her, and his breath feathered her curls, warmed her cheeks, invaded her senses. When his lips brushed hers, she thought she might melt. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her tight to his chest, deepening the kiss.
Drawing away, he gazed into her eyes. “Get a good night’s sleep. You need to be on your toes for your first self-defense lesson.”
“I’m not taking—”
His mouth plundered again, moving over hers until she forgot what she wanted to say. Easing back, he wore a cocky grin. “I’ll see you at nine. We’ll talk about it then.”
Chapter 15
Ellie woke at seven, took a shower, and opened her closet to inspect the clothes inside, most of which were folded on a wall of shelves across from a sparsely filled rod. She had a ton of jeans, shorts, tees, and sweaters, but few items that needed to be kept on hangers.
She had no idea how women dressed for breakfast with an ex-lover, a self-defense class, and a night on the town all in the same day and still kept their sanity. She’d hated staying current with fashion trends and designer togs when the D had nagged her to do so. She’d gotten rid of the high-end outfits he expected her to wear and dressed like a normal woman as soon as she’d tossed him out on his cheating ass. Since free of his dictates, she only wore comfortable clothes that felt good on her amply curved body, and she intended to keep it that way.
She didn’t want to impress Sam, but she did want to look presentable, so she opted for a pair of tobacco-colored linen walking shorts, a cream tank top, and a gauzy burgundy shirt. She owned worn sweats and plenty of sneakers, which should suffice for the self-defense class. Unfortunately, nothing seemed right for an evening of dinner and the theater with Kevin McGowan, who, she suspected, knew the difference between a designer original and “off the rack” as well as Georgette did.
Returning to the bathroom, she blew her hair dry and let the glossy mop fall in disarray. She considered her shining cap of corkscrew curls her greatest asset, and thanks to Fredo, her all-knowing hair stylist, it was always in shape. If she’d thought ahead, she would have scheduled a trim, but Saturday was his busiest day. It would be impossible to fit in an appointment and do all the other errands on her list.
In the kitchen, she started a full pot of coffee, slid sandals on her feet, and called out, “Hey, lazy bones, time for your morning constitutional.”
When Rudy didn’t show his furry face, she went to look for him. He always started the night asleep on the pillow next to her and usually ended up there, but some mornings he found his way to a living room chair. There, he could stare out the window and keep tabs on whatever happened in the private fenced-in patio area on the ground floor.
The empty chair told her he might still be in bed or he was hiding, probably because he was ticked at her for allowing Sam to tag along on their walk last night. After she’d informed him the detective was bringing breakfast the next morning and then refused to read the stuff from Gary’s storage box, he’d trotted into her bedroom with his snout held high, settled on his pillow, and ignored her.
Now in her bedroom, she scanned the area. “I know you’re in here, so show yourself, tough guy.”
Tsking at the silence, she opened her closet, in case she’d accidentally shut him inside. When that failed to produce him, she got down on her hands and knees, checked under the bed, and spotted him licking his privates at warp speed.
“Great. Just what I want to see before breakfast,” she moaned. “Stop that and come out this instant.”
Instead of glancing her way, Rudy picked up the pace, slurping so fast she thought he might choke.
Though the Yorkiepoo was her best nonhuman friend and she trusted him with her life, she’d realized from the beginning of their relationship that he would run rough-shod over her if she didn’t assert herself. She accepted his laughable lawyer jokes, his off the wall thinking, and his savvy observations on the human condition, but in the end he was still a dog. He had to pay a penalty for outright disobedience, even though she felt lousy when she threatened punishment. She hated not feeding him almost as much as Rudy hated missing a meal.
“If you don’t get out from under there right now, you can forget your morning nibble. You know the routine for acting like a baby.”
He stopped midlick and glared at her.
“I didn’t invite Sam for breakfast. He invited himself, and I said yes. It can’t hurt to get his opinion on the stuff we found in Gary’s box, and he’s bringing food. I’ll see to it you get a bite of bagel with a schmeer, but only if you behave.”
“How about a little lox on the side?”
“If you promise to be nice.”
“I won’t bite him, if that’s what you mean by nice.”
She backed up and raised the dust ruffle. “No biting and no wisecracks. I can’t think when you’re in my head, spouting snide remarks.”
“I can’t help it.” He crawled out and shook himself, then stretched onto his front paws and arched his back. “The guy’s a jerk. He hurt you. I’d never do that.”
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They walked to the kitchen side by side. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re loyal and true, as are all canines devoted to their humans. Trouble is, Sam and I are—were—in what I thought was the start of a relationship. I get the impression he knows he was wrong when he didn’t call, and now he’s trying to atone. I have to think about how to handle that.”
“If you forgive him, he’ll want more of the same. What happens if—when he drops you again?”
“I’m not sure how I’ll react, but I can tell you this. If I decide to see him on a personal level, and he repeats the transgression, he won’t get a third chance.”
“Humans are dopes. They never appreciate what they have until they lose it.”
She couldn’t fault his logic, so she grabbed his leash and clipped it to his collar. “It looks nice outside, not so steamy. Let’s go around the block. Sam should be here by then, and we can enjoy a good breakfast.”
Ellie turned the final corner toward home, noting the short walk had been uneventful for a Saturday morning. Because few people were trekking the pavement, the man beside her seemed to appear out of nowhere, causing her to inhale a breath.
“Hello again. Do you live around here?”
Growling, Rudy pulled her forward, and she took the hint, continuing on without acknowledging the comment. They would reach her front stoop in less than a minute if they kept going at this pace.
“I recognized you by your dog.”
Her dog? She slowed her steps. The voice did sound vaguely familiar, and definitely friendly.
“Keep on truckin’, Triple E,” Rudy instructed. “I got a bad feeling about this dude.”
Tugging on the leash to hold him at bay, Ellie turned to appraise the speaker.
“Remember me? We met in Carl Schurz about a week ago. You were with a friend, a lovely brunette, and her Jack Russell.”
She sighed. It was the nice guy she and Viv had talked to on one of their visits to the park, the guy who liked dogs. “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you. And I do remember the conversation. What are you doing so far from home, Mr. . . . ?”
