Relatively Risky

by Pauline Baird Jones

  “Give it a go,” a cool, amused voice said from his right.

  Alex looked and found the owner of the voice, leaning against a door jamb. She was everything he most liked in a woman. Tall, cool and blonde—with just a hint of red in her hair. He couldn’t picture her riding a bike, let alone running into a carjacker with one. Her eyes swept him, sparked with interest. He waited for his libido to kick on, but it just sat there. “Excuse me?”

  “The banister. Everyone wants to slide down it.”

  Okay, her apparent ability to read his mind went into the minus column, but when she started toward him, one hip at a time, her body all fluid and sexy, he added a few more ticks to the plus column and told his libido to get cracking. It was really letting him down. Out of habit, he produced his badge and showed it to her.

  “Miss Whitby here?”

  Her perfect brows arched perfectly. “Nell?”

  Nell suited her. Sounded more friendly. “If she rides a bike and has a muse.”

  Her lips twitched slightly. “That’s Nell.” Now her brows pulled together in a frown. “Why would you be looking for Nell? She is the most law abiding person I know.”

  He could see she was going to get all protective, when it ought to be obvious that it was the world that needed protection from Nell.

  “I just need her statement. About the car jacking.”

  That popped her brows up again. Interesting that Nell hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Nell doesn’t have a car.”

  Alex sighed. “She witnessed a car jacking but left before I could get her statement. The muse is, apparently, her boss.”

  She laughed and smoothed down her hackles. “That sounds like Nell. I’m Sarah Burland. Nell’s other boss. And friend.”

  At least she hadn’t tossed lawyer in there. She shook hands with him. Her hand was cool and slim as it settled inside his. He enjoyed the contact but his libido remained stubbornly unaffected. It had never let him down before. Was there a place to get it checked? He met her rueful gaze and half shrugged. Felt like he should apologize.

  She grinned, but it turned into a frown. “She didn’t mention anything about it.”

  Because it was crazy? It wasn’t his job to fill her in, so he asked, “Is she here?”

  “In the garden. Second door on the right, then out the terrace doors. She’s probably up a tree.”

  Alex had started to move, but stopped at this. “Up a…tree?”

  “She likes being up.” Sarah paused her own retreat to add, “Check the oak in the middle. It’s her favorite.”

  “Thanks. I think.” The second door opened on a living room, a tidy and welcoming room with terrace doors that opened onto a small, not so tidy garden.

  Several old oak trees cast their shade on the enclosed space, but there was a particularly fine specimen in the center, its branches reaching close to the ground, as if in invitation. It reminded him of the tree in Swiss Family Robinson, only without the tree house. In a particularly complex juncture between several branches, he picked out what looked like a reclining figure. She’d picked a spot a serious distance from Mother Earth.

  He walked to the base. From this vantage point, all he could see was her butt, surrounded by branches and leaves and one foot dangling over the edge. So he hadn’t imagined it. She did have a nice caboose. His libido gave itself a shake. Glad it was still around, but now was not the time. Nell was not his type. Not the time to recall that his ex had been his type…

  “Miss Whitby?”

  There was a pause, then the foot was pulled in and the body—and the caboose—turned until he could see her face peering down at him through the branches. She didn’t say anything, something he found a bit unnerving. Might have arched her brows. Hard to tell with the shade playing games with her face.

  “I realized you live pretty close and thought it would simplify things if I stopped by and got your statement. From this morning.”

  “Oh, right. This morning. Sure. Come on up.”

  He wanted to but felt like he shouldn’t. Tree climbing was for children, not homicide detectives. He studied the arrangement of branches and trunk. It was a great tree.

  “It’s lovely and cool.” Her face disappeared and her caboose reappeared in the juncture. “Unless you’re afraid….”

  Her voice had just enough imp in it to provoke—if the taunt wasn’t enough. He started up, half expected gravity to be bitchy about it, but it must be snoozing in the afternoon sun, too. In short order he’d clambered up beside her. Close, but not too close, was another branch arrangement where he could settle quite comfortably. She was right. It was nice up here. Relaxing. Like he’d left his worries and frustrations back on the ground. And his hang ups. Air moved softly through the leaves, their rustle just enough to mute distant car sounds and cool the sweat from his climb.

  He turned and studied her, curious to compare memory with reality. She’d changed into a pair of shorts that showed off a rather well constructed pair of legs, though she still wore the cowboy boots so he didn’t get the full view. She’d tucked her portfolio into a branch close by her, had a closed pad resting on her lap. One knee was scrubbed, probably from this morning. Her hair puffed out around her head, the ends curling in a variety of directions.

  She fingered the end of a strand. “It increases exponentially, in proportion to the humidity level.”

  He chuckled and was rewarded with a smile that put crinkles around her eyes. He shifted uneasily. “They smile.”

  “Excuse me?” She blinked, though slowly, her lashes drifting down and then up as if that was all she had energy to do.

  “Your eyes. They smile.”

  “Do they?” She touched the edge of one, as if feeling for the smile.

  “Inside them.” He knew he was being…something. Should shut up.

  “Oh.” Her lips curved up to match her eyes. A slight breeze made the shadows on her face shift, revealing, then shading her mouth.

  “How was the muse?” he surprised himself by asking.

  She made a face, punctuated it with a lazy shrug.

  His libido kicked it up a notch. Odd to feel that slow slide now. He dealt with the aftermath of human impulse at work all the time. Saw a butt load of human impulse—and some he considered not-human—helping to raise his siblings. He should understand it. Didn’t. He didn’t know why he’d come. Wasn’t sorry. Found himself remembering the moment when he’d almost kissed her and hadn’t. Maybe he should give into impulse every now and again. Sure couldn’t make a move now when they were up a tree. Was kind of sorry about that.

  She shifted position, uncrossing her booted feet. She leaned forward, stowing her pad in the portfolio and securing it.

  “You’re not from here, are you?” The question came out conversational, rather than cop-like.

  “Wyoming.” She turned her head, just enough for her sleepy gaze to meet his. “Not Star Valley.”

  He grinned. “How did you know—”

  “Almost everyone’s ‘I know someone from Wyoming,’ is someone from Star Valley.” An amused frown pulled her brows together. “Not sure why. It’s not huge.”

  “Not many towns in Wyoming are,” Alex pointed out, which was almost all he knew about the state. And that most of Yellowstone was in Wyoming. Okay, he just thought he knew that.

  Her tiny nod conceded the point. It was followed by another lazy smile that made his insides relax some. He liked that she didn’t fidget or chatter. Looked at him straight, her gaze clear and honest. And smiling. There really was something about her eyes—

  “So you’re from not-Star Valley.”

  Her chuckle was engaging.

  “Waipiti. I’m from Waipiti.”

  “Wa—what?”

  “It’s a little place between Cody and Yellowstone. A really little place.”

  “How did you get from there to here?” Her perch suited her, New Orleans did, too, but at the same time…he tried to picture a little town in Wyoming behind her, but
he’d never been to Wyoming. Were Wyoming small towns like Louisiana small towns? Her eyes shadowed some and she looked away.

  “Sarah was my college roommate.”

  “College?” Alex probed. He’d have pegged Sarah as a local, in habitation and with her college selection. But what had brought Nell to Louisiana—

  Nell grinned. “University of Wyoming.”

  His brows shot up. “Seriously?” He did not see that one coming.

  “She won’t admit it, but I think she did it to piss off her parents. When my parents—she’s the one who hooked me up with my publisher. He’s local, too. When she inherited the house, she decided to try her hand at catering and she invited me to come work for her.”

  Didn’t have to be a cop to note the quick subject change or to fill in the blanks. Didn’t need to be a metro-sexual either. “How long ago did your parents pass?”

  Her lashes shot up, her gaze on his for a long moment before she said, “A little over two years.”

  “No siblings?” She shook her head. Did he envy her? Probably not, though ask him tomorrow. Answer changed with the day.

  “No family.” Her smile was overly bright and not that happy. “I’m relying on the kindness of strangers these days, though,” her tone softened, “Sarah’s not a stranger.”

  “You must have left a lot of friends back in Wa—Wyoming?”

  “Of course, but—” she shrugged again. Her lashes drifted to half mast, her mouth drooped.

  “A clean break was probably a good idea.” It had worked for his ex. She and the new hubby were in Saudi Arabia or maybe it was Dubai. He didn’t keep track, but one of his sister’s had mentioned seeing something about it in her Facebook status a few weeks ago. Sometimes it bothered him how little he missed her. Mostly he was relieved. Nothing more depressing than a guy who couldn’t get over the ex. It annoyed his sisters that he forgot he had an ex. Maybe it was having so many siblings. Didn’t have room in his brain to remember an ex. “How long you been here?”

  Her face relaxed at the change of subject. “A couple of years.”

  “That kid, the failed carjacker? He wants your autograph. Didn’t realize I’d been rescued by a celebrity.”

  That made her chuckle a bit ruefully. “Only with tweens, I’m afraid. It’s the strangest thing, but Alphonse has been deemed totally sick, only locally of course. Kids that age won’t even eat vegetables, but apparently they like wearing him.” She grinned at him, then shook her head. “I’m still a bit shell shocked thinking about trying to ram him. I do not know what came over me. I’m not usually reckless.” He trotted out a skeptical look and she grinned. “Truly. I’m a librarian. Until today, the boldest thing I’ve done was move here. My first and last rescue attempt. My bike was not happy to be turned into a weapon. Or attempted weapon?”

  His turn to laugh. “You see a nail, everything is a hammer.”

  “My dad would tell me to not make eye contact with the nails if I’m feeling hammer-ish.”

  This time no shadows, Alex noted. When was the last time he’d been this relaxed? It was spring, so the air wasn’t too humid, though the sun was high enough he’d bet it was eighty on the ground. The leaves probably reduced the temp some. He gave his gaze permission to linger on Nell, trying to figure out why it felt longer that he’d known her. That they weren’t strangers. Didn’t usually think this much around a woman, he thought, with a wry inside grin. Added to the odd, no doubt. His brothers—felt a flinch and realized he didn’t want his brothers to meet her until—what? He wasn’t here for personal reasons. He was up this tree for police business. Okay, even he knew that was weird. Maybe a big, fat lie. He looked around, mostly to look away. “This is nice.”

  “I like being up.”

  It didn’t sound so weird this time. Maybe the world needed more up. A change of perspective didn’t hurt once in a while.

  “Would you like something to eat?” He heard his voice say the words, without a bit of cop in the question. He told himself it was to stop his dad from trying to set him up. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if she said no. He told himself a lot of things while he held his breath waiting for her sweet, slightly husky voice to say no.

  “Okay.” She looked and sounded as surprised as he felt at her agreement. “I’m a much better witness with food in my stomach.” As if to prove her point, her stomach rumbled. With a rueful grimace she covered it with both hands.

  He chuckled, a bit relieved at the out she’d given him. A business dinner was less risky than a date. At least that’s how he explained it to himself as he got his feet back on the ground. Trouble was, looking into her eyes as she climbed down to him, he still felt up in the air. She handed him her portfolio, then dropped to the ground and stopped, as if caught by something in his face or his eyes. She met his gaze, not obviously uncomfortable, even as the silence drew out. With the leaf-filtered light playing on her face, he revised her looks up again. No one could call her beautiful—except when she smiled. Her smile changed everything about her face, though if he had to explain why he’d be stumped. Her face was as uncluttered as a kid’s. Now that he thought about it, her steady gaze reminded him of a kid’s. It seemed to look right through him.

  As if he’d made it happen, he realized there were two children standing on either side of her looking right through him. It gave him a bit of shock to see them, so much so he actually took a step back.

  “Nell,” the girl said, importantly. She seemed sure of her welcome.

  With good reason it seemed. Nell’s smile wasn’t exactly like the one from this morning, or directed at him, but it still made Alex catch his breath.

  She knelt down, her face now level with the children. “Hi, Fancy. Georges. What’s up?”

  “My cat,” Fancy said, turning her small body to point to a tree in the next yard. The foliage was dense, but Alex did spot a bit of white in among the green. “She won’t come down.”

  Since Fancy was holding a doll dress, Alex was not surprised. He remembered all too well the attention his sisters had lavished on the various cats that had passed through their lives. Their favorite thing was to dress the cat in baby clothes. This caused the cats to meow piteously. Alex could see the baby carriage at the foot of the tree. He knew just how that cat felt. In fact, at this moment, he wouldn’t mind being with the cat.

  “She ran right out of the dress,” Georges said, his admiration evident in his face and his voice. “And up the tree.”

  “Now she can’t get down,” Fancy said sadly.

  Won’t was more like it.

  “I could go up and get her,” Nell said, “but she’d probably just go higher now that she’s scared.” She lowered her voice as if sharing a secret with them, “Do you know what a lure is?”

  Fancy’s eyes got wide and she shook her head. Georges small round face brightened with interest. Alex felt his senses stir at the way her lips pursed.

  “A lure is like bait. Fish like worms, so fishermen use them to lure the fish to the hook and catch them. What does your cat like?” Nell asked.

  Fancy’s small face screwed into a tiny frown as she pondered this. Finally she said, “Tuna?”

  “Yes, cats do like tuna. So I’d move the baby carriage where your cat can’t see it, then put a can of tuna at the base of the tree and lure her down.”

  “Lure,” Fancy said, with relish. Alex could tell the word delighted her. His libido shared that delight, though for entirely different reasons. It gave a little kick every time Nell said it. He looked away, but he couldn’t escape the sound of her hushed, husky voice.

  “Lure,” Nell said. “And if you don’t want her up there again, maybe you should put the dress away. I’ll bet your cat is tired of playing dress up.”

  “Oh,” Fancy drew the word out, her expression wise and knowing. “Okay.”

  She and Georges took off running, their small bodies thrusting through the humid air with youthful zest. At the gate, Fancy turned to cry, “Thanks!”

&n
bsp; Nell waved and smiled as she rose from her crouch. The requirements of etiquette satisfied, they disappeared from sight.

  “Cute kids,” Alex said, aware the words came out a bit flat.

  Once again her gaze assessed him. It seemed to see through him and inside him, all the way down to the parts he wasn’t that proud of, to his fear of being back in that kid zone. A familiar panicked feeling rose inside him, one all too familiar. All those eyes, all those gazes assessing him and finding him wanting. All those years of never being quite enough. He wasn’t mom, or his sisters’ mom. They were both gone and he’d missed them, too. Had never been able to take their place.

  Nell’s mouth curved slowly into a smile that was new and just for him—though he didn’t know how he knew it. Might be deluding himself. Didn’t mind. Delusions had their place when a day started out like theirs did. Her eyes reflected the new smile, too. She took her portfolio back, tucking it under one arm. Took his hand in hers, sliding her fingers between his with the innocent trust of a kid and said, “Two questions?”

  He couldn’t speak yet, his throat was still tight, though tight was easing, as if the palm of her hand was absorbing the panic and neutralizing it. He arched his brows, giving her tacit permission to continue.

  “I didn’t catch your name earlier?”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” It was habit to pull out his ID and show it to her. “Alex Baker.”

  “Homicide.” Her eyes widened briefly.

  It felt like she took a step back though she didn’t move. So he inched closer. “You said two questions.” The tension inside him was almost gone now. Her face relaxed a bit, her lips trying to curve.