But yesterday, he’d heard somethingin Jon’s voice when he’d casually asked about Mitchell and Bradley. Hs didn’t think Jon had any idea of the feelings Toby had suppressed regarding the man who had briefly shared his apartment and protected him through those harrowing weeks. Toby didn’t think anyone really had a clue, except maybe Melba. And perhaps—just a little—Madame Zhou. Not much got by her, but she wasn’t the sort to share things casually. Of course, it was perfectly within her nature and certainly well within her capability to manipulate events and circumstances so that the truth eventually came out, but so far, there was no reason to suspect she had any such devious plan in mind.
Jon was a complete enigma. Toby knew next to nothing about his past, or the real reason he was now working and living within a few hundred feet of him. He certainly had no idea how he liked getting his rocks off or what his preferred partner might be like. But yesterday…yesterday, he’d seen something behind those cool grey eyes and all of his carefully constructed notions had been blown out of the water. Just remembering the feel of the strong hand lightly gripping his shoulder and the way Jon’s breath had brushed his ear made him light-headed. And recalling the heat radiating off the body next to him and his pure, clean scent? He glanced down at his lap to double-check his reaction. “Yep. The man down there’s more than a little interested in Jon Chiang, and he hasn’t even seen him with his shirt off!”Problem was, he didn’t know what to do about it. This was now well beyond pulling a few pranks and unleashing a barrage of egregiously flirtatious remarks in an effort to tease and devil Jon into some kind—any kind—of reaction, and if the heaping handful of swollen flesh under his bathrobe was any indication, there weren’t enough cold showers in the world to resolve the situation. Worst of all, Jon probably had no idea of the effect he was having on Toby.
Doing his best to ignore the happy rhythmic throbbing coming from his lap, he put his coffee cup back on the table and picked up the large textbook to distract himself from the whole train of thought. He hunted for the assigned chapter and tried to focus on this week’s class work, which was all about suspect interviews and interrogation. Despite his best efforts, his mind imaged all kinds of activities designed to get to know Jon a little better, and to uncover what might be hiding underneath the man’s calm, controlled exterior. After aimlessly turning pages and realizing that, despite his best efforts, Mr. Happy was straining to get his attention, he slung the blanket to one side with a frustrated groan, and stomped to the back of the apartment. It was time to start the day anyway. Thankfully, there was plenty of cold water waiting.
***
Zhou Li’s appointment ended up taking much longer than expected. Melba found herself fidgeting and looking at the clock, having long since finished all the interesting magazines in the waiting area. She was now wondering if she could take down the burly guy reading a well-thumbed mechanic’s journal and decided she probably could, if she caught him unaware. She was spared the task of putting it to the test when the door dividing the reception area from the examination room opened and Zhou Li appeared.
“I am sorry to keep you waiting. That took much longer than anticipated. If I had been given any warning this morning’s visit was going to be so exhaustive, I would have suggested you run a few errands instead of having to wait.”
“It’s not a problem,” Melba assured her. “I caught up on some reading. If you’re ready, let’s head downstairs, and I’ll run and get the car.”
Madame Zhou nodded her assent, and they made their way to the elevators and then down to the building lobby. Zhou commented on the state of the building’s maintenance, frowning once or twice at scuffs on the polished tiles and a worn patch of paint just outside the elevator. Melba suspected someone at the management company was going to receive a rather direct telephone call later that afternoon.
Once she retrieved the car and had Zhou Li settled in the passenger seat, Melba made her way back downtown to the 900 block of Capital Street for the next stop on the morning’s agenda. She pulled up in front of a corner building and put it in park.
“Is this the right place?” she asked when Zhou made no move to unbuckle her seat belt.
It took a moment for her passenger to answer, and when she did, it was with a somewhat distracted air, as if she’d been miles away.
“Oh…yes. Yes, this is the correct address. I am afraid that my mind was wandering for a moment.” She freed herself from the restraint and hooked her purse under her arm before opening the car door. “Shall we?”
“Why don’t you wait by the car and I’ll come around to help you up the curb? It looks like a pretty big step.”
“I am perfectly able to make it to the door myself, step or no step!” Zhou snapped. “I am not an invalid.”
Melba was somewhat taken aback by the sharp declaration, but decided not to comment. Instead, she locked the car, fed a few quarters into the meter and made her own way to the building entrance where she waited patiently for her irritable companion to join her.
Zhou practically marched to the curb and gave a determined shake of her head as she contemplated the step. Pursing her lip and making sure her bag was secure on her arm, Zhou Li steadied herself with one hand on the parking meter and stepped up. Once both feet were secure on the ground, she strode forward with tiny, deliberate steps. Melba held open the door and allowed her to pass before her into the building without further comment, while racking her brain trying to decide what in the world could have set her friend off.
The interior of the building showed obvious signs that there was quite a bit of work underway. The wooden floors were mostly covered with heavy brown paper to avoid any unnecessary wear and tear, and a couple of painter’s scaffolds were set up on the far right hand side of the room. A weedy-looking young man was perched on one end, straining to reach a bit of decorative molding so he could finish attaching the remainder of the strip of blue painter’s tape he held in one hand. He paid no attention to their arrival, obviously having only one task in mind. Melba caught a whiff of what she suspected were fumes from a joint he’d enjoyed in the not too distant past, which went a long way to explaining his intense focus on the task at hand. Another man, stocky and middle-aged, was kneeling on the floor at the back of the room, apparently checking measurements for something or the other. His pants were riding down on his hips, and the view presented made it clear he was either wearing very low-rise briefs or going commando. He looked up at their approach and rose to his feet and headed their way. When he got within sniffing distance, Melba was relieved to find that, unlike his helper, he’d obviously not indulged in a doobie.
“Madame Zhou. Good morning. Thanks for stopping by.”
“Good morning, Joel. I fear we are later than I had hoped, but it couldn’t be helped. Allow me to make introductions. Please meet my friend and associate, Ms. Melba Reightman. Ms. Reightman is a retired police detective and is now a private investigator and partner of the Reightman and Bailey Agency located across from my shop.” The young man on the scaffold stopped in mid-reach and looked down at the group on the floor with a somewhat furtive expression. He’d probably heard Zhou Li mention the police. Melba gave him a small grin, but directed her attention back to Zhou Li while she continued the introductions. “Ms. Reightman, this Mr. Joel Phillips. Mr. Phillips is a talented and dependable general contractor and has done a lot of work for me over the years.”
They shook hands and made general pleasantries. Satisfied the correct and proper forms had been observed, Madame Zhou got down to business.
“Joel, you mentioned there was a problem with restoring some of the architectural features. Can you fill me in on the issue?”
He directed her attention to the area he’d been measuring, and Melba allowed her attention to wander while they talked shop. The space was large and airy, and had two large windows at the front of the building and two additional, but small, windows on the right hand side. There was a door centered on the back wall, which presumably l
ed to offices or storage areas in the back. Two large ceiling fans, which looked like antiques, dropped from the high ceiling. Apparently, they were in fine working order since they were busy spinning away a few feet above her head. Melba directed her attention to the back of the store, where Zhou Li appeared to be wrapping up her discussion.
“I agree that replacing it all is the only viable option. I hate to tear down the original molding, but I understand it would be impossible to match. A mishmash would not be acceptable, so just replace it.”
Joel grunted his agreement and removed a small notebook from his front pocket and made a couple of notes.
“Also,” Zhou continued, “I must remind you that all of the required upgrades to the electrical service must be handled with extreme care. There cannot be the smallest doubt everything is in compliance with city code.”
“Understood. I have to say, I was surprised when you informed me the city was requiring so much in the way of upgrades. Unless there are major changes planned, they pretty much grandfather everything in, at least, as long as it’s not an outright fire hazard. I’ve reviewed the last inspection and nothing of any concern was raised.”
“I know, but I have my reasons. Please proceed ahead.”
“All right. I’ll make sure to keep the subcontractor on task and, as for the woodwork, I’ll get everything ordered this afternoon. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two for it to get here. I don’t think it should slow us down, and you know I’ll do everything possible to finish by the target date.”
“Excellent. With that, I think we will leave you to it, then. Let me know if you should run into any expected delays.”
“Will do, Madame Zhou. Hey, that kind of rhymed.”
“It does indeed, Joel. How clever of you.”
Business concluded, he accompanied her to Melba’s side. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Reightman.”
“Please, call me Melba, Mr. Phillips.”
“Only if you call me Joel in return,” he replied with a wink. He dug around in his front pocket and eventually pulled out a somewhat crumbled business card. “Please take one of my cards. Madame Zhou keeps me pretty busy, but if you ever need any work done, I’m your man.”
Melba accepted the card, gave it a quick glance and dropped it into the pocket of her jacket. “Thanks, Joel. I currently rent, but I’ll keep this handy in case that should change. You never know.”
He winked again and went back to finish measurements, once again presenting her with a flash of butt crack. She rolled her eyes at the stereotypical nature of things—at least he wasn’t a plumber.
“Ready?”
“Yes, dear,” Zhou acknowledged and led the way to the front door.
“This is a very nice space. Who’s the tenant you have lined up?”
“Yes, I think it is lovely. Two very nice gentlemen have leased it and will be moving it the first of next month. They are relocating their bridal shop downtown from one of the suburban area shopping malls. They were quite taken with the space and with the ample window display. I feel confident that they will be very successful here. I must remember to bring you and Toby by and make introductions. I think it is nice when downtown business owners know each other.”
They stepped out into the sunshine, and Melba was relieved to find it was a little warmer outside. “Do you own the rest of this block?”
“No, just this space. A certain Mr. Vassily Grokov owns the rest of the buildings in the 900 block.”
By the tone of her voice, Mr. Grokov was not on the list of Zhou’s favorite folks. “I wonder what that’s all about?” Before Melba could formulate a suitable inquiry, Zhou Li’s attention was diverted by an open door about mid-way down the block. “If you have the time, I would like to see what is going on down there,” she announced.
“Sure,” Melba agreed, and trailed a couple of feet behind as Zhou Li picked up speed, zooming forward as fast as her little feet could carry her.
The front of the building was fairly wide and, like the corner space, it had two large front windows. Big block letters on the glass announced the establishment was the “Capital Idea Puppet Theatre” and a banner above the door stated, “Our New Home Will Be Opening Soon.”
“How extraordinary!” Zhou exclaimed. “I would not think this sort of business was Mr. Grokov’s thing at all.” Without waiting on a response, she made a beeline to the door and hurried inside.
The interior was dim—the only light came from the two front windows. A series of framed posters were leaning against a brick side wall, near several cans of paint and a pile of well-used brushes. Drop cloths were spread across the floor in a haphazard manner, with several lumps and sizeable wrinkles scattered here and there. Melba desperately hoped Zhou Li didn’t catch her foot or stumble over one of them, but resolved not to say anything given the curt admonishment received earlier. Still, she kept a sharp eye out as the old lady made her way further into the space. The archway into the back was roped off by padded red velvet swags attached to tarnished brass stanchions.
“I’m not sure there’s anyone here,” Melba ventured, noticing the ticket booth to the left was dark.
“Then, why would the door be open?” Zhou asked, peering intently over the velvet ropes. “Although the downtown area is remarkably crime-free these days, I cannot imagine anyone would just leave their front door open.”
“Can I help you with something?”
Startled by the unexpected voice behind her, Melba swung around to see two figures enter through the front door. Backlit by the bright sunshine, she was unable to immediately make out their features, but as they drew closer, she determined the voice belonged to the tall young woman in front. From the faint lines in her thin face, she appeared to be in her mid-to-late thirties and was wearing paint-covered overalls. Her straight, dark brown hair was pulled back into a neat pony-tail. She was carrying a couple of white to-go bags.
“Did you need help with something?” the woman asked again. Melba noticed her shoulders were tense, and there was a wary look in the dark brown eyes.
“No, I’m sorry. We were in the area on other business and saw the open door. I’m afraid our curiosity got the better of us. I’m Melba Reightman.”
“And I am Madame Zhou Li. I own the building on the corner, and it was I who rather peremptorily invaded your space. I was simply so surprised at the delightful nature of your business that I could not help myself.”
After a moment of considering silence, the woman nodded. “No harm done, I’m sure. We should have locked up before running out to grab some lunch, but it gets pretty stuffy in here. I’m Jill Anthony,” she finally offered, although her voice wasn’t anywhere near to what Melba would call friendly. “I’m afraid we’re not really open yet, so if you’re looking for tickets, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. We’re a few weeks away from our official opening, but if you’d like to leave your name and number, I’ll have someone call you when the first show opens.”
The man who’d followed her in moved slightly forward and smiled. “Now, Jill,” he scolded. “There’s no reason to sound so dismissive. Around these parts, it’s downright rude and unsociable. Why don’t you take the food back to Mother while I talk to these nice potential patrons for a few minutes?”
Jill hesitated for a brief instant, then offered them a small smile. “Sorry. I probably didn’t sound too welcoming, but I was startled to find someone inside. I’ll try to make a better impression next time.” She took another bag from the man and, with another tuck of her chin, edged around the stanchions and disappeared into the back.
“Sorry about that.” He underscored his apology with a blinding white smile. “My sister can be a little defensive, especially when she’s surprised. I’m Jake.”
Melba facilitated proper introductions. She was a little less formal about the process since she was busy studying the man in front of her. He wasn’t exceptionally tall, probably a couple of inches under six feet. What he lacked in height, he m
ade up for in looks. He had dark hair and eyes like his sister, but his seemed infinitely more luminous. Small dimples appeared when he smiled, which was often. To compliment the physical package, he positively dripped charm. Melba guessed he was within a year or two of being forty, but those years looked good on him. She fixated for a moment on the perfect arch of his thick eyebrows, and didn’t realize her mind had taken a trip to fantasy land until a sharp jab in the side abruptly brought her back to reality. “Damn! Her elbows are boney!” She quickly pasted a smile on her face. “Sorry. Did you ask me something?”
Jake gave a pleased laugh, and damn if it didn’t give her a little shiver.
“I think I know what the problem is. You recognize me. Don’t worry. It happens all the time.”
Melba racked her brain, frantically trying to place his face. If she’d met him before, she must have been sick or dying, since that was the only explanation she could think of that would account for her memory loss. “I’m not…sure…”
He laughed again. “There’s no reason to get tongue-tied. Let me introduce myself properly to break the ice.” He held out one strong, well-manicured tanned hand. “Jake Anthony, star of stage and screen. Although, most recently, most of my success had been on the small screen. Still, television is a big deal these days.”
Melba starred at him blankly for another minute or two and then noticed the disappointed frown forming on his perfect mouth. She gave an embarrassed laugh to cover up what was obviously a huge faux pas, and hoped it adequately disguised the fact she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. “Oh, sure! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Seeing the anticipation on his face, she hurriedly added, “I’ve always enjoyed your work.” The way his eyes immediately dulled was pretty much a dead giveaway that she hadn’t fooled him one bit.
Skin Puppet: Reightman & Bailey Book Three Page 10
