D.B. Hayes, Detective

by Darlene Scalera; Dani Sinclair

  “Why charge anything at all then?”

  “I wasn’t going to, all right? I was going to give her back the money.”

  He regarded me for a long second in silence. “If this is how you do business, how do you earn a living?”

  “I work in my aunt’s flower shop!”

  Angry tears began to build and I blinked them back. Around Brandon my emotions seemed to feel free to pinwheel out of control. I was totally unprepared for him to pull me into his arms.

  “You are the most amazing woman.”

  “Wha—”

  I only had an instant to prepare for those fantastic lips to descend, but heck, I didn’t need longer than that. Anger and thought both fled as he kissed me with a hunger that left me too shaken to stand unsupported.

  “Amazing,” he whispered against my mouth.

  “Oh, yeah,” I agreed. And dimly I heard a car door.

  Brandon jerked his head up. Wheels squealed as a car sped off. I twisted to look back over my shoulder. I was in time to see a dark car that could have been burgundy red disappear up the street. Brandon released me so fast, I nearly fell, as he went racing toward the front of the house. My pocket was buzzing and I realized it had been for several seconds.

  My cell phone. I’d put it on vibrate, not even certain it still worked after all the abuse it had suffered today. I fumbled it out of my pocket as I pelted unsteadily after Brandon.

  “Dee, did you see him?” Mrs. Keene demanded shrilly in my ear.

  I held the phone out away from my ear. “I saw.”

  “He came right up on the front porch this time!”

  “Did you get a good look at him?”

  “No. By the time I found my glasses he was getting back in his car. Those dratted dark windows. Why do they allow them to tint the windows so dark?”

  “I don’t know,” I agreed.

  Brandon was moving from the sidewalk to the porch. I cut across the grass and arrived on his heels. The bouquet of pink roses lay in their plastic sleeve in front of her door. Beside them sat a wrapped box of Malley’s chocolate candy.

  “What the devil is going on?” he asked me.

  “Some kid with a grandma fetish?”

  “Does she have a grandson?”

  “Yeah, he’s seven.”

  IN THE MORNING I SNUCK OUT of her house the minute I heard her in the bathroom. I know it was cowardly, but I couldn’t face Mrs. Keene before coffee. I’d barely slept and I knew Brandon hadn’t gotten much more sleep than I had. I’d seen the light on in my former bedroom until quite late. Perversely the thought that he couldn’t sleep either had cheered me.

  Dad had already left for work by the time I arrived, but to my dismay, he’d taken Brandon with him, according to the note they’d left for me. Angry but not sure exactly why I was angry, I drove over to my apartment to check on the cats.

  Mama jumped off the bed and ran for the closet when I came in. Her babies were making soft baby noises as she nuzzled them into place. I figured she’d been taking a break. Having six little ones clinging to you 24-7 must get tiresome, so I didn’t blame her. They were pretty cute even if they did still look more like rodents than kittens.

  I marveled over how each one was different. One was black and white, one was brown and black and white, two were gray, one was orange and white and one looked to be all black. Together they were certainly a colorful array. It was surprisingly hard not to want to touch them.

  Mama watched closely but offered no protest as I lifted the black one and stroked its tiny head. The eyes were still closed and its ears were flat to its head, with its fur close to its body. It made a small sound and I put it back down so it could squirm its way back into the mass of writhing bodies with its brothers and sisters.

  I showered quickly, donned a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt and headed out the door. Since I hadn’t worked the shop all day yesterday, I figured it would be nice to go in early and get things started before Aunt Lacy showed up. I owed her for getting rid of Sam One for me.

  GEORGE THE CAT WAS HAPPILY batting a broken fern across the back room and I was in the middle of telling my aunt and Trudy what had happened at Mrs. Keene’s house when my cell phone rang. My stomach gave a flip and my heart went into overdrive at the name on the caller ID. I’d been expecting Brandon to call all morning. He hadn’t. The one name I hadn’t been expecting was Albert Russo. I excused myself to take the call in the office, shutting the door for privacy.

  “D.B. Hayes,” I said, trying hard to sound professional.

  “Albert Russo, Ms. Hayes. I am most…disappointed in you.”

  I swallowed air because I didn’t have any saliva left.

  “I’m not overly happy with you either, Mr. Russo,” I managed with false bravado.

  His pause nearly killed me.

  “I don’t like being used,” I added boldly into the pause, sitting down on one of the lumpy visitor chairs before my legs gave out.

  “Used? Ms. Hayes?”

  “Used,” I said firmly, warming to the subject. “I understand about divorce. It’s always a messy situation. But before you start threatening people and pointing guns—or having your associate do it for you—check your facts, Mr. Russo. You didn’t ask me for information. You asked me for photographs and a record of where your wife went the other evening. That’s the information I provided. Information I did not divulge to anyone, I might add, as I consider it confidential. However, I can’t speak for the other people involved. And before you make assumptions based on those photographs, my professional opinion is that you should do some in-depth checking on the facts behind your wife’s professed association with the man in question. I think you’ll discover the relationship is not what it appears on the surface.”

  I paused to draw a breath and he chuckled.

  “You have moxie, Ms. Hayes. How unexpected. I trust then that you know what you are doing.”

  The soft click as he disconnected was the scariest sound I’d ever heard. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I thought I’d just ticked off one of the most dangerous men in Cleveland. I was certifiably out of my mind.

  When I finally got my nerves settled enough to leave the office with what I hoped was a serene expression in place, I lost it all over again. Brandon was standing in the workroom with his back to me, talking with Trudy and my aunt. George the cat was happily twisting himself around Brandon’s legs, vying for attention.

  “And I know my friend, Suzanne, has two tickets for tonight’s performance and she can’t go,” Aunt Lacy was saying. “Her husband’s back is acting up again. She offered them to Trudy and me last night, but I’m not all that fond of Shakespeare’s dramas. Macbeth, isn’t it, Trudy? Let me give Suzanne a call. You and Dee can go.”

  “Well, actually I had dinner plans for this evening—”

  “I’ll bet her son can get you a backstage pass to meet Nicole after the performance,” Aunt Lacy added persuasively. “He works there. I’ll just give Suzanne a quick call.”

  As Aunt Lacy bustled away I told myself I was not jealous. A man like Brandon is bound to have a girlfriend or ten hanging around. There was nothing wrong with him having dinner plans for the evening that didn’t include me. On the other hand, if my aunt could get us in to talk to the woman who was having an affair with the man who had just threatened my life… At least, I think he had threatened my life. I wasn’t real clear on that point.

  “We should go,” I said.

  Brandon turned quickly and grimaced. Our gazes locked. My knees suddenly felt wobbly. Good thing that man couldn’t bottle his powerful thrall over women, or the entire female population would be endangered.

  “Knee still bothering you?” I asked, going for nonchalance.

  “It’s fine.”

  His face was shaping up to be pretty spectacular with that bruise turning interesting shades of blues and blacks. He’d given up on the bandage. The cut was scabbed over and the bruise hid most of it anyhow.

  “Colorful,�
� I told him.

  He started a hand toward his cheek and let it fall back to his side. “Yeah. Ms. Hoffsteder—”

  “Trudy,” she corrected.

  “Trudy,” he acknowledged with a nod in her direction, “said you were on the phone with Russo. What did he want?”

  I thought about that for a minute and shrugged. “I have no idea. He told me I had moxie and he guessed I knew what I was doing.”

  “He threatened you?” Trudy said, outraged.

  “Who threatened her?” my aunt demanded, returning to the workroom from the office. “Russo?”

  “No one,” we said at the same time.

  My aunt regarded me sternly. That was nothing compared to the look she turned on Brandon.

  “I got you the tickets. Suzanne is going to ask her son to get you a backstage pass, as well, but I expect you to look out for my niece.”

  “Aunt Lacy!”

  “Don’t you Aunt Lacy me, not this time. That man is no one to fool around with, girl. I don’t like this.”

  I pushed myself forward, trying to hold back the anger. I love my family, but here was the reason I couldn’t live with any of them.

  “This,” I said with quiet force, “is my job. I love you, Aunt Lacy, but if you can’t deal, then I have to go, because it’s what I do. You knew that when you agreed to let me rent space from you. I can’t fight you and Russo and Brandon all at the same time.”

  “Hey, what did the boy do?” Trudy asked.

  I spared her a glare.

  “Never mind, Dee’s right, Lace. She knows how to take care of herself.”

  Aunt Lacy’s lips thinned, but the bell rang out front and she turned away and walked out to take care of the customer who’d just entered.

  “Thanks, Trudy,” I said.

  The older woman shrugged. “It’s the truth. She knows it. You just remind her of your mother is all. She was always a scrapper, too. Being the older sister, Lacy just got in the habit of worrying and fussing. Your tickets will be at the box office. If Jason is able to get you a backstage pass, it will be waiting with the tickets. But, Dee, because I like to worry, too, the both of you be careful. Lacy’s right about one thing. Russo isn’t someone you want to fool around with.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I gave her a quick hug and found Brandon watching the whole scene silently. It was hard to believe I’d forgotten about him for even a second, but I had.

  Aunt Lacy was helping a pair of women select an arrangement for a sick friend as I walked Brandon outside, so I simply nodded to her and stepped into the early afternoon heat with Brandon at my side. I blinked and turned sideways to avoid looking into the sun.

  “Sorry about that,” I said uncomfortably, not sure exactly what I was apologizing for.

  “Your aunt has a point, you know.”

  “I know. I believe that’s why you spent the night in my father’s guest room? Or was that solely to protect me from Mrs. Keene’s mystery stalker?”

  “Doesn’t that chip on your shoulder get to be a drag after a while?”

  I glared at him. “When you’re five foot one and you look like you’re still in college—”

  “High school.”

  “When we first met, you asked me if I was twenty-one or twenty-two.”

  He offered me an easy grin. “Because I figured you had to be older than you looked.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Hey, in ten or twenty years you’ll welcome your youthful appearance.”

  “Come talk to me then.”

  “Dee—”

  “Look, Brandon, I don’t know if Russo was threatening me or not. He didn’t say a word about the house or anything. I’m not even sure why he called me unless it was to warn me off.”

  “Obviously he doesn’t know you very well.”

  “Darn right. So why’d you disappear so early this morning?”

  “I had to pick up Trudy’s car.”

  “You found it?”

  “Dex called me at four this morning. Your dad dropped me off to meet him on his way in to work, and Dex drove me to the east side to pick it up. It was in a supermarket parking lot not far from Russo’s place. I didn’t figure she’d take it very far. She didn’t want to be picked up driving a stolen car. There was no damage, so I filled the tank, had it cleaned and brought it by.”

  “That was nice of you. Thanks. But how are you going to get around?”

  “My ride’s waiting over there.”

  I looked in the direction he’d indicated with his nod and wished I hadn’t. The car was a blue minivan and the driver was a blonde. A very attractive blonde.

  “Your dinner date?”

  He started to answer and stopped. A smile played around the corners of his mouth.

  “Jealous?”

  “You know something, Kirkpatrick, I’ll stack my chip against your ego any day. If dinner with the blonde is more important than talking to Russo’s side dish, I’ll see if Billy’s free tonight and let you know what I learn. No sweat.”

  I rocked back on my heels, feeling I’d handled that pretty well. I was not jealous. I would not be jealous. I had nothing at all to be jealous about. We were business acquaintances. Nothing more.

  “Which one’s Billy?” he asked with a gleam in his eyes. “The mechanic or the accountant?”

  I held on to my temper with mental fists. “You and my father had a nice long chat did you?”

  “Let’s just say it was educational.”

  Too bad I knew the penalty for patricide. I forced a sweet smile. “Whichever one would worry you the most.”

  The devil lent him that grin.

  “I’ll pick you up at closing,” he said.

  “What about your dinner date?” I inclined my head toward the van without looking directly at the blonde again.

  “Julie won’t mind if we postpone. You and I can grab something to eat downtown before the play.”

  That sounded uncomfortably like a date to me. “Your tab?” I demanded.

  The grin widened.

  “My tab,” he agreed.

  “Fine. Want to take the blonde some consolation flowers?”

  “Nah. I’ll just use the ole Kirkpatrick charm.”

  The worst part was, it would probably work.

  “Huh. I’m buying garlic and charms.”

  I could hear him laughing as I strode off down the street toward the dry cleaner’s. I did not look back.

  Chapter Nine

  Too bad there were no dry-cleaning charms.

  “I’m sorry, Dee,” Mr. Choy said. “Blood’s one of those nasty stains once it sets. If the fabric had been anything but—”

  “It’s okay, Mr. Choy. I was hoping for a miracle, but I wasn’t expecting one.”

  “You know my daughter, Kai?”

  “Of course. Hi, Kai.”

  I felt foolish as soon as the words left my lips because the combination sounded so ridiculous, but his daughter merely smiled and said hello.

  “Kai is studying to be a seamstress. She has a suggestion. Tell her, Kai.”

  “As it is only the skirt that is damaged,” Kai said at her father’s prodding, “you could take other material and stitch it to the bodice here. This color and fabric would not be so easy to find, but there are others that would work.”

  “Kai, I appreciate the thought, but not only do I not have the time to make a whole new dress, I’m not compatible with needles and thread. I’ve been known to buy an entire new blouse rather than sew on a button.”

  Kai stared at me in unwinking shock. “You would throw the dress away?”

  “It’s no good to me now,” I said regretfully. I really had liked that dress and it had cost a small fortune.

  “With your permission, I could take the dress and use it as one of my class projects.”

  “Permission granted. It’s totally useless to me, but thanks for the suggestion.”

  And because I gave her the dress, Mr. Choy refused to let me pay for the dry cleaning.
We haggled and eventually he let me pay his cost to clean the garment. It was only fair.

  Fortunately the afternoon was busy. I ran orders all over town, stopping by my place only briefly to pick up a dress and sandals to wear to dinner and the play. Mama and the kittens were fine, and I wasted several minutes watching and petting each of them. I was not turning into a cat person, but they were so tiny and helpless, they were cute.

  I discovered I’d just missed Mickey when I got back to the shop. Aunt Lacy said he was so depressed, she was worried about him. His uncle was coming to dinner that night, and without Mr. Sam, he was going to have to confess he’d let the cat get out. I felt guilty, but what could I do? There wasn’t time to find him another cat. As it was I had to call Mrs. Keene and tell her I wasn’t going to make it to her house tonight.

  It turned out at least that wasn’t a problem. A friend of hers had fallen over some boxes at the church rummage sale and Mrs. Keene was going to spend the night keeping her company. Mrs. Keene was concerned about her house, however, so I promised to drive by and make sure everything was all right when I got the chance.

  BRANDON IN CASUAL SLACKS AND an open-necked shirt is sexy. Brandon in a suit and tie stole my breath and left me metaphorically panting. And I was pretty sure he knew it, too, darn the man. Except for the ugly dark bruise on his cheek, he was so good looking, I was glad now that I’d given in to vanity and my aunt and Trudy.

  “You look lovely, Dee,” he told me and sounded as if he meant it.

  “I do? I mean, thank you.”

  I was flustered. Billy and Ted rarely compliment me. The truth is, I seldom think about my looks. I rarely bother to wear makeup since it tends to dissolve on my skin after a few hours anyhow, so why bother? Eye makeup irritates my eyes, causing me to rub them until it smears. Then I look like a pathetic raccoon. My hair isn’t tamable with a whip and a chair no matter how much gel and spray I use.

  Genetics can be cruel. On the other hand, I have nice skin and even features, so I can’t complain.

  The shop had been quiet the last half hour or so before closing, so Aunt Lacy and Trudy had decided to make me a project. I really hate when that happens, but for once I didn’t fight.