by Tawna Fenske
I heard a female voice in the background and tried to pick out what was being said. “Is that your girlfriend?” I asked Pete.
“What?”
“In the background? You said you might be off for a few days this week if your girlfriend came up from L.A. to visit—”
“Oh. No. It’s the radio. I just left my buddy and got in the car. I’m pretty close by, actually. Do you want me to stop by and wait with you ‘til the cops show up?”
“Well, Collin’s here—”
“Collin?”
“From work.”
Pete was silent for a moment. “I’m coming over. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”
Then he disconnected the call.
“Well that was weird,” I said, looking at the phone before I set it down on the table.
“Pete’s coming over?” Lori sounded as confused as I felt.
“Pete from work?” Collin asked, emerging from the kitchen with a dishtowel in his hands and steamy streaks on his glasses.
“I guess so.”
“Hmm.” Collin set the towel on the counter. “I was going to head out, but maybe I’ll stick around a bit longer.”
“Why? You think he might be a spy, too?”
Collin quirked an eyebrow at me. “At this point, I’m making note of any suspicious behavior.”
I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but the doorbell rang and saved me the trouble of figuring it out.
“Shall I get it?” Collin said. “Since I’m up?”
“Sure,” I told him. “It’s probably Pete. He said he was close by in his car.”
“Well that’s convenient,” Collin murmured.
“Are you always this paranoid?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Collin ignored the question as he yanked open the door with more force than necessary. “Pete, jolly good to see you. What brings you by?”
“Hey, Collin – I understand there’s been some drama here this evening?”
“You could say that,” Lori murmured, looking appreciatively at Pete. “Nice shirt. Banana Republic?”
He shrugged. “It was a gift.”
“From your girlfriend?”
Pete smiled, but didn’t answer.
“I just thought since you bought her that handbag, maybe she went shopping and—”
I pinched my sister’s thigh and smiled up at the two men standing there in my living room. “Pete didn’t come here to be badgered, Lori.”
“Why did Pete come here, exactly?” She smiled at him. “I’m just curious.”
“I heard there was a problem. My friend who’s a cop is supposed to swing by, but he had another call to take before this one. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay here.”
“Oh. Well, that’s very... thoughtful of you,” I said, not sure exactly why I was feeling uneasy. “So the police will be here soon?”
Pete glanced at his watch. “He was in the middle of dealing with an attempted homicide. It might be another twenty minutes.”
“Right. Handbags not being their highest priority?”
“Something like that,” Pete said. “They do want to try to get prints though, take some statements from you, that sort of thing. He also said your message mentioned a missing person?”
“Right,” I said. “Lori’s intern. We haven’t heard from her for a few days.”
Pete frowned. “This is the one you mentioned had mob ties?”
Lori sighed. “We don’t know that. Her uncle might have mob ties. Maybe. We’re not really sure about that.”
“Right, right,” Pete said. “I remember. Is it unusual for her to just take off?”
“Not really,” Lori admitted. “But it’s unusual that the last time we heard from her, she was hot on the trail of information about counterfeit handbags.”
“Huh,” Pete said, his expression unreadable. “Make sure you mention that to the cops, okay?”
Beside him, Collin was still wiping his hands on the dishtowel, looking leery. Lori caught my eye and raised one eyebrow. Clearly we were both having a tough time reading the dynamic between these two and figuring out what the hell was going on.
“Can I get anyone a drink?” I asked, standing up. “Gin and tonic, red wine, white wine, beer, milk, cider—”
“A spot of tea would be lovely, thank you,” Collin said.
“Water for me, if it’s not too much trouble,” Pete replied, moving toward the table. “Are these the bags left on your porch?”
“Yup,” I answered. “Come on, Lori, help me with the drinks.”
Lori got up and gave the boys a studied glance before following me into the kitchen. I reached up to pull a water glass out of the cupboard as Lori hunted around for more tonic.
“Is it just me, or is there a weird vibe out there?” she hissed.
“There’s definitely a weird vibe. Not just between the two guys—”
“Right. Though I’m a little worried they’re going to joust in the living room.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little odd for Pete to just show up?” I whispered. “I mean, if he’s just a friend of a cop?”
“What do you think it’s about?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Pete thinks Collin is some sort of bad guy.”
“Maybe Pete is some sort of bad guy.”
“Or maybe they’re both spies.”
“Or terrorists.”
“Or circus performers.”
Lori frowned. “I’m kind of afraid of clowns.”
I looked down at the drinks I was getting ready to take to them, wondering if tea and expensive mineral water were appropriate beverages to serve bad guys or spies or terrorists or clowns.
Lori and I headed back to the living room and walked in just in time to hear Collin finishing up the story of how the handbags had appeared.
“Peculiar, no?” he asked.
“Peculiar,” Pete agreed, accepting the glass of water Lori handed him. “By the way, Collin – did you get that report I put on your desk this afternoon?”
“Report?”
“Something from the Chicago Climate Exchange. Your desk was pretty cluttered, so I wasn’t sure you’d see it if I just set it on top. I put your stapler on it so you’d be sure to notice.”
Collin pressed his lips together, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of tea and set the mug down on my coffee table. “Actually, no, I didn’t get the paperwork.” He cast an unreadable glance at me. “What time was that?”
Pete shrugged. “Right after lunch, maybe?”
“Interesting. JJ, what time did you come into my office looking for Gordy?”
I rolled my eyes. “Again with the suspicious spy stuff? Really?”
Collin said nothing, but stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. “I really should be getting along. Have you seen my jacket?”
“It’s in the closet,” I said, and went to retrieve it.
I handed it to him and we stood there awkwardly for a moment. Collin glanced back toward the living room, where Lori and Pete were chattering about something.
“Be careful, okay?” Collin murmured. “I might not trust you, but I don’t want you hurt.”
“It’s okay, Pete’s here now and the cops will be here soon.”
“Right,” Collin said, darting a glance back toward the living room. “Pete.”
I frowned at him. “Have you always had such trust issues?”
“JJ—”
“I know, I know,” I said. “You’re right, something seems odd. Or maybe your paranoia is just rubbing off on me.”
“Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
When Collin was gone, I returned to the living room. Pete raised any eyebrow at me. “He in a hurry to be somewhere?”
I shrugged. “Men are a mystery to me.”
Lori grinned. “The whole damn lot of you.”
BY THE TIME the police officer showed up and took statements from Lori and me, I was exhausted.<
br />
The cops retreated, Pete and Lori left for their respective homes, and I puttered around getting ready for bed. It was definitely time for sleep.
In theory, anyway.
I lay there in my silky cami pjs and just stared at the ceiling. Every time the clock chimed, I jumped. Every time a car door slammed down the street, my heart hammered against my ribs. When Blue Cat knocked over a jar of Q-tips while doing battle with a hair scrunchie in the bathroom, I screamed.
Once I realized I wasn’t about to be murdered, I threw the covers back and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. I bit my lip, reconsidering my plan.
It was late. Way too late to call him. Obviously.
But dammit, I was scared. That stupid handbag on my porch had rattled me a lot more than I realized.
I hesitated for only a second, my finger poised over the button.
“To hell with it,” I said, and dialed his number.
Select a choice: JJ Makes a Call
JJ calls Daniel
JJ calls Collin
JJ calls Pete
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I wasn’t surprised to see Daniel still wearing his tie and work clothes when he arrived on my doorstep twenty minutes later.
I was surprised he looked rumpled and untucked, with a faint five o’clock shadow that made him seem uncharacteristically rough around the edges.
It was kind of hot.
“Daniel,” I said, stepping aside to let him through the door. “Thanks for coming over.”
“No problem, hon,” he said as he bent to place a kiss on my forehead. “I know things have been a little strained between us lately, but you know you can call me anytime.”
“Thank you.” I closed the door and hugged my arms around me. I had pulled an old cashmere cardigan over my pjs, but hadn’t bothered doing anything else to get dressed. It’s not like Daniel hadn’t seen me scantily clad before.
Seeing me shiver, Daniel stepped close. “Come here, you must be freezing. Want some cocoa or something?”
I nodded against his chest, feeling warm and comforted and soothed by familiarity. Exactly what I’d wanted when I’d picked up the phone to call him.
“Why don’t you go wrap up in that blanket on the couch,” he said. “I’ll make the cocoa and then you can tell me all about what happened.”
“I should change clothes—”
“No,” he said, already moving toward the kitchen. “I’ll warm you up.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant the cocoa or the blanket or some innocent cuddling, but I was up for any of those things.
Maybe a few other things, too.
“Four spoonfuls of cocoa mix, right?” he called from the kitchen.
“Right. Thank you.”
I snuggled under the blanket and was just getting settled when Daniel joined me on the couch. “Here you go,” he said, handing me the mug as he crawled under the blanket with me. “Now start at the beginning. What happened with your handbag?”
So I told the whole story – the one I’d attempted to tell on the phone before I broke down in pathetic, girly sobs.
Daniel listened quietly, punctuating his attention with the occasional sip of his cocoa or pleasant squeeze of my bare knee.
He was right – I did feel much warmer all of a sudden.
“So you have no idea who’d do something like that?” he asked.
I shook my head and sipped my cocoa. “No, but I’m going to find out.”
He frowned. “JJ, please don’t do anything dangerous. I know you drive heavy equipment for a living and you’re a tough, competent, independent woman, but I really think you need to be careful here.”
“And do what? Nothing?”
“Keeping yourself safe is not nothing.” He laced his fingers through mine and lifted my hand to his lips. “That’s the most important thing in the world.”
I thought about arguing, but I was too tired and still a little freaked out about everything. I set my cocoa mug down and snuggled closer to Daniel. He slid his arm around me and planted a kiss on my forehead.
I looked up, needing a little more than a forehead kiss this time.
“I know we agreed to slow things down a little, but—”
I didn’t have to finish that sentence. Daniel was many things, but dense wasn’t one of them. He moved his lips to mine and kissed me exactly the way I love to be kissed. Slow and deep and soft and so skillfully I feared I might actually slide right off the couch.
“Slippery,” he murmured, fingering the silky edge of my cami top.
“Mmmm,” I agreed as I shifted to press my breast against his palm.
“God, JJ.” His fingers slid beneath the cool silk and I gasped as his palm slid over my bare nipple. His other hand flicked the spaghetti strap off my shoulder, and the top went sliding down into a puddle around my waist.
Daniel moved his hands to my shoulders and broke the kiss to sit back. He stared for a few beats, his chest rising and falling beneath the rumpled dress shirt and my fingers fumbled with the knot on his tie.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Would you like to move to the bedroom?”
I bit my lip, hesitating. Did I really want things to go that far right now? Deep down, I knew I could probably be seduced to the point of flinging my clothes across the room if we stayed right here on the couch.
But somehow, the process of getting up and making a conscious decision to move things to the bedroom shifted everything from a heat-of-the-moment, passion-fueled romp to a conscious choice.
Sometimes, I hated conscious choices.
Daniel must have sensed my hesitation, because he drew me close and began kissing me again. I felt my brain start to spin and seriously considered the clothing flinging thing again.
“Daniel, wait,” I said, pulling back. “I don’t know that this is such a good idea.”
He frowned. “It’s why you called, isn’t it?”
Was it?
No, of course it wasn’t. I had called for comfort. For familiarity. For safety.
OK, maybe for a little fooling around, too.
“How about if we just keep it to second base for now?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me, then nodded down at my missing top. “Is that second base or third?”
“I forget. Baseball was never my thing.”
“Hmmm,” he said as he began to nuzzle my neck. “Did I ever tell you I played in the minor leagues for a couple years after college?”
“Then you know all the bases.”
“I do.”
I smiled as his mouth moved down my throat and over my collarbone. “Why don’t you show me the first couple bases for now?”
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“Hullo?”
I held my breath for a moment, thinking this was probably a very bad idea.
“Hullo, is anyone there?”
“Hey, Collin, it’s me. JJ. From work?”
“JJ. Yes, of course. Is everything okay?”
“I was just worried. About – um, well, about – about the mold.”
“The mold.” The flatness of his voice told me he wasn’t buying my flimsy excuse.
“The scary mold you told me about?” I prompted.
<
br /> “Yes, of course. I remembered right after I left that I never checked your shower. I do apologize for that.” He hesitated. “You’re frightened then?”
“A little,” I admitted. “It might not just be the mold.”
“Indeed, you had quite a scare this evening.” He was quiet a moment. “Would you feel better if I came and did a quick check for Cryptococcus gattii or anything else that might be frightening?”
I nodded into the phone, feeling like a silly girl, but also feeling immensely relieved. “Would you mind?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Collin.”
I hung up the phone and got dressed, putting on the same jeans and boots and sweater I’d been wearing earlier.
Even though I was expecting it, I still jumped when the doorbell rang. I checked the peephole to be sure it was him, and then opened the door.
“Thanks for coming over at this hour,” I said. “I was just scared and—”
“Say no more,” Collin said, stepping inside. “Cryptococcus gattii is nothing to trifle with.”
“Er, right. Okay, the mold is this way.”
I led him down the hall to my tiny, cramped bathroom. Nudging the door open, I flipped the light switch to bathe the room in a soft, white glow. I took a moment to admire my pretty, polished pedestal sink, the waffle weave towels in coordinating shades of purple and lavender, the tiny bouquet of dried wildflowers arranged in a Pottery Barn vase on a small shelf above the toilet.
“Lovely,” Collin said, stepping forward to admire my décor. At least, that’s what I thought he was admiring. Then I caught the direction of his gaze and looked up. There, right where I’d hung them to dry the night before, was a tidy line of lacy bras and panties arranged on top of my shower curtain rod. I felt my face heat up, but pushed past him, determined not to let him see my mortification. Or my skivvies.
“I wasn’t expecting to entertain a strange man in my bathroom this evening,” I said, carefully plucking my unmentionables from the curtain rod and tucking them under my towels in the basket beside the sink.
“Ah, I see. You normally only entertain strange men in your bathroom on certain nights of the week?”
