He prayed they would find the answers that Phoebe expected. Did he hold a key in his hand?
The diamond winked at him, conspiratorial in its silence.
If the search for truth came full circle...if Boone were guilty...if he was destined to repeat his twin’s mistakes...
It was a possibility he refused to consider.
Chapter Four
“Jimmy Bob, we’ve had this conversation before,” Phoebe said, wearing her most serious expression.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you promised you’d get right on it.”
Tufts of light brown hair stood out around the handyman’s receding hairline as he crushed his billed cap to his chest. Fortyish and built like a bull, Jimmy Bob Dortch appeared immature and defenseless, more like an embarrassed kid than a man who ran his own business.
So to speak.
“Didn’t feel right,” Jimmy Bob drawled. “Me goin’ and workin’ on your folks’ place with what happened to Miss Audra and all.”
Of course they’d had their last little talk more than a week before Audra’s murder, but Phoebe knew she’d have to go along with his program if she was to get anywhere.
“I appreciate your sensitivity.”
Not that sensitivity would get the work done. She’d called him at the crack of dawn, and he’d argued he couldn’t make it into Naples that morning since he had a job on Marco, so Phoebe had quickly switched gears and said they could meet at the Blue Crab.
“Miss Audra...she was always real nice to me. Even made me a sandwich one time when I forgot my lunch.”
Touched by his sad tone, Phoebe said, “My sister was a very nice person.”
“And so pretty.”
“That, too.”
“She shouldn’ta had to die like that. Shoulda stayed away from that Calderon guy!”
Startled by his sudden intensity, by the glitter in his watery blue eyes as he muttered to himself, Phoebe caught her breath. Jimmy Bob had been in and out of the condo over a period of weeks. He must have seen Audra and Boone together sometime. Might have heard private conversations.
Did the handyman know something that might give her a clue about her sister’s death?
“What do you mean—Audra should have stayed away from Boone Calderon?”
Jimmy Bob started, as if remembering he wasn’t alone. “Nothin’!” he said, his face going florid. But he was crushing his cap between white-knuckled fingers. “Just that she’s dead now. The police said it’s that man’s fault!”
“Sometimes the police are wrong.”
The handyman was shaking his head and backing off. “Gotta go, now.”
“Wait!” Phoebe cried. Then sensing he was about to panic, she asked, “The backsplash—when can you finish?”
He was looking everywhere but at her when he said, “Right away, Miss Phoebe.”
Weird was the only way to describe his reaction... as if he were afraid she might blame him for something. She had a feeling poking at whatever was bothering him would only make things worse. And undoubtedly she was projecting about his knowing something anyway.
In an attempt to settle him down, she asked, “What time can I expect you at Dolphin’s Gate?” in as natural a tone as she could manage.
Not that she needed to be there. The security office would let him in and lock up after him. She merely wanted him to commit himself.
“Well, today I gotta finish that painting job I told you about over to Roberts Bay.” He met her gaze, the panic she’d seen a moment before gone. “But I’ll be right on it first thing tomorrow.”
“What time?” she asked doggedly.
“Say, ten?”
“Say eight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Phoebe sighed. More than likely, Jimmy Bob would arrive whenever he pleased. But there was only so much she could do to pressure him. And, after all, he’d done a creditable job updating the bathrooms at the Blue Crab. Kevin had handled the details, so she wasn’t certain if Jimmy Bob really was unreliable or merely unresponsive to her.
The handyman had skedaddled and she was filling salt shakers to stall returning home and the probable confrontation with Simon Calderon, when her partner left his apartment above the restaurant. Letting the door slam behind him, Kevin took a swig of coffee and sauntered down the steps. He was barefoot and wearing a pair of disreputable cutoffs and a rumpled T-shirt that said Bang Me, Baby. His hair was sleep-tousled, and his eyes were hidden behind Ray-Bans.
“What’s all the ruckus?” he grumbled as he joined her near the waitperson station.
“You’re alone?” she returned. “Or is the blonde still keeping your bed warm?”
A long swallow of coffee was followed by a grin. “Hmm, interested in details, are you?”
“Forget I asked.”
“She left at daybreak so she could get some sleep. What are you doing here?” He hopped onto a nearby table. “I thought you were taking the day off.”
“I am. I’m only here because Jimmy Bob and I needed to have a heart-to-heart about that backsplash he’s been installing in mother’s kitchen.”
“Wasn’t he supposed to have finished already?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, not wanting to get into it.
Kevin had sort of pushed Jimmy Bob on her, saying the poor guy needed the work. He’d no doubt feel responsible if the job weren’t done right.
“You never said he wasn’t getting the work done.”
“I’ve had a few other things on my mind lately,” she reminded him, topping off the last salt shaker. “I totally forgot about it.”
“Dortch is a little slow.”
“No kidding.”
“Up here, I mean.” He tapped his forehead.
“No wonder he was acting a little strange.”
“Hey, he’s okay working with his hands or I wouldn’t have suggested you use him. I’ll talk to him.”
“I already did.” She tried to reassure him. “Look, no big deal. I didn’t even notice the job wasn’t done until last night.”
That seemed to take Kevin by surprise. He lifted his shades, giving her a gander at his puffy morning eyes and the furrow cutting a swath between his brows.
“You went to Dolphin’s Gate instead of home? What for?”
Feeling as if she was defending herself, Phoebe said, “Looking for answers.”
That morning, her hopes high, she’d flipped through Audra’s diary, but it had been like searching for a needle in a haystack. Finding the kind of details that would be helpful would take some time and concentration. And the thought of meeting Simon after another dip in her sister’s erotic prose, had made her put off the task again.
“Find any?” Kevin asked, cutting into her thoughts.
“What?”
“Answers.”
“I’m not sure.”
His mouth pulled into a grim line. “Want to fill me in?”
Not on the diary, certainly.
“Simon Calderon was waiting for me when I got home.”
Not on the details, either.
“Are congratulations in order?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, that stress-relief undertaking we discussed yesterday.”
Ignoring the reference to her love life, Phoebe said, “Simon decided he wants to know whether or not Boone was capable of murder, after all.”
Kevin shook his head and clucked. “He’s only going to encourage you.”
“He’s going to do more than that. He’s going to help me.”
“How?”
“We haven’t worked out the details.”
He gave her a long look before saying, “Keep me informed, would you?”
“Sure. Of course.”
Though, if last night was any indication, her reports would probably have to be edited...
Before Kevin could pressure her further, Phoebe grabbed her shoulder bag. “Well, if I want the day off, I should get out of here.”
�
��So, go,” he said, though without his customary animation.
And the way he was staring at her made Phoebe uncomfortable. This wasn’t like him. No grin. No wisecrack. Obviously, Kevin was worried about her, which made her feel a little guilty at leaving him out of the loop at all.
But the sight that awaited her in the parking lot shoved all other concerns from mind. Simon Calderon was slouched in the passenger seat of her convertible.
Pulse surging, Phoebe moved toward the car. While she could see Simon’s eyes were closed, she was certain he was awake and aware of her approach. She stopped beside the driver’s door, and arms crossed, stared in silence until he acknowledged her presence by meeting her gaze.
Then she attacked. “How did you know where to find me?”
“And here I thought you’d be impressed.”
“Did you follow me...” She took a quick glance around the parking lot but spotted no vehicle other than Kevin’s. “...or did you hide in my trunk?”
“Try option C—deductive reasoning. If you weren’t at home, work was the next logical place to find you.”
Only she hadn’t told him about the Blue Crab...
As Phoebe slid behind the wheel, the smell of doughnuts hit her. A glance over her shoulder revealed a box perched in the middle of the back seat.
He said, “We’ll have to stop for that coffee since you fell down on your end.”
“I told you I’d pass.”
“Then we’ll have to get me coffee.”
In the end, she caved. She couldn’t resist fresh doughnuts any more than the next woman.
Two purchased giant coffees and a five-minute drive later, they pulled into the Tigertail Beach lot. Simon took charge of the midmorning refreshments, while Phoebe dug into the trunk where she kept an old blanket handy for impromptu Gulf swims or picnics.
Shellers had beat them to the beach. The fanatics would have been out there before dawn, but even at this hour, a considerable number of people strolled the tide line, stooping and sifting through the wash for whelks and buttercups, scotch bonnets and jewel boxes, cockles and olive shells. Others had waded through the thigh-high water to get to the sandbar that acted as a natural breakwater.
A flock of gulls looking for handouts dive-bombed a couple of tourists holding up French fries, while a reddish egret stumbled like a drunk in the shallows—activity designed to confuse its prey.
Sighing with pleasure, Phoebe raised her face to the sun and tilted her head so the breeze rippled through her loose hair. An hour from now, heat would blast the open area, but for the moment, it was heaven.
Even Simon seemed relaxed as gulls gathered around them, waiting for a sweet treat. He lay back on one elbow, handsome-as-sin face out to sea... throat long and tanned...jaw freshly shaved, scar more visible than before...ruffled hair teasing his forehead.
For once, he actually appeared unthreatening.
Possibly accessible.
Yet Phoebe waited until she’d devoured three doughnuts and had washed them down with the better part of her coffee before asking, “So, did you figure out how to approach my brother-in-law?”
“I have a few ideas.” He sat up, suddenly all business. “To start, might Audra have left a few things behind?”
“Almost everything,” Phoebe said. “She just wanted out.”
“Then give him a call and tell him you’d like to go through Audra’s things.”
“What makes you imagine he’ll agree? He’s not a fan of mine any more than I am of his.”
“So play emotional. Distraught. Helpless. A burden on his back who isn’t going away until she gets what she wants. Tell him you need something to remember Audra by. Something...that was special to you.”
Thinking of the locket she’d already found, Phoebe figured she could use that as an excuse. Vance wouldn’t keep track of something so insignificant as a cheap trinket. It could be anywhere for all he knew.
“I can try,” she said.
“Do better than try. Get him to agree.”
“Then what?”
“Does he have domestic help?”
“Audra had a woman come in twice a week to clean...I can’t imagine Vance would have chosen to take over her duties himself.”
“Then you arrange to get in when she’s there. Once you’re in, I’m in. Get the picture?”
“Crystal clear.” Wondering if that would constitute illegal entry, Phoebe said, “You have more confidence in this plan than I do.”
“Do you want to prove someone other than Boone pulled the trigger or not?”
His irritation startled her. “You know I do.”
“Did you think it would be easy?” he asked. “Or safe?”
Safe? With him?
Phoebe knew that’s not what he meant. If they did stumble on some truths a murderer was trying to hide...
The conclusion stole her breath away.
“No, but I—didn’t have time to think things through.”
“If we don’t go into this with complete confidence, what’s the use?”
Knowing Simon had a point didn’t make Phoebe feel better, however. Her stomach swirled as if she’d swallowed a couple of live snakes. She was starting to regret the doughnuts.
“I could use a walk,” she muttered, getting up and heading for the water.
Her world suddenly narrowed, the sights and sounds around her shifting out of focus.
Simon joined her, choosing to stay dry while she strolled in the shallows. She took deep calming breaths and let waves wash over her feet. The smooth rolling motion of the water had a calming effect on her system.
“Better,” she murmured.
“Keep in mind you’re not alone in this anymore.”
“Safety in numbers? You have to be kidding. Two can die as easily as one. I’d suggest you ask Audra and Boone...if they weren’t already dead.”
“Maybe they didn’t see it coming.”
“And we will?”
“I’ll be watching for it, and if you’re real smart, you will, too.”
Simon slipped his hand around hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze. Phoebe’s pulse jumped. She was hoping he didn’t notice.
That she was attracted to him was undeniable.
That he was all wrong for her equally so.
She made it a rule to keep her relationships uncomplicated if physically satisfying and to end them cleanly before anyone got hurt.
There was nothing uncomplicated about Simon Calderon. Intense...brooding...overwhelming. He could be all of those. Not the type to let her call the shots, or to let something end before he deemed it over. In the end, she would be the one who got hurt.
She wouldn’t let that happen—wouldn’t follow in her mother’s footsteps.
Nor in Audra’s.
And yet disappointment warred with relief when Simon stopped and released her hand.
He said, “I found something interesting last night.” Then reached into his shirt pocket, from which he produced what was obviously an engagement ring. A very expensive one, to judge by the unusual platinum setting and the size of the diamond. He handed it to her. “Recognize this?”
“Should I?”
“Read the inscription.”
She maneuvered the thick band until she could focus on the single word etched inside: Forever.
A lump settled in her throat, making it difficult to ask, “You think Boone had this made up for Audra?”
“Doubtful. I found it thrown to the back of a desk drawer like it didn’t matter for anything.”
“Blair, then?”
“That would be my take.”
Remembering the haughty society beauty’s manner, Phoebe said, “Blair didn’t take rejection well. She told people the breakup was her idea, that Boone had never been good enough for her and that she’d finally realized it. I’m surprised she returned the ring.”
“If Boone gave it to her in the first place. Do you remember her wearing one?”
She shook her
head. “I only met her a couple of times at the Blue Crab. I don’t usually look at women’s hands for engagement rings.”
“What if Boone meant to give this to Blair but met Audra first?” Speculation lent a hard edge to Simon’s features. “As his brother, wouldn’t it be fitting that I give it to the woman he bought it for? She might even be grateful enough to let down her guard.”
“Sounds like you have a plan.”
“It’s a way to meet Boone’s ex without putting her on notice.”
“What if she won’t see you?”
“She’ll see me.”
Phoebe believed him. If Blair Ratcliff didn’t succumb to curiosity, Simon wouldn’t hesitate to invite himself.
“What do you hope to gain?”
“If I’m lucky, a little insight into her nature.”
“We have a start, then. You have your assignment and I have mine.”
Which meant she’d have the opportunity to delve into Audra’s diary.
They headed back the way they’d come, picking up the blanket, refuse and—to the disgust of protesting gulls—the few remaining doughnuts.
After placing all in the trunk and slamming the lid, she realized Simon was staring at her, eyes lit with a speculative gleam.
“What?” she asked.
“You could have left me a note this morning. You knew I’d be back.”
“You could have called.”
“Would you have picked up?”
“Why not?”
“I make you nervous.”
“Get over yourself.”
Amusement played around the corners of his mouth and his bedroom gaze resurfaced. Phoebe figured getting into the car fast would be wise. But before she could make a move, Simon placed his hands on the trunk on either side of her, effectively trapping her.
Then, without warning, he kissed her.
Her heart stilled as he slipped inside her mouth as easily as he’d slipped inside her mind.
Her tongue reached out for his. When their tips touched, her heart began to race, as if playing catch up. Her every nerve, every inner fibre, every inch of skin was suddenly alive...hypersensitive...gasping for nourishment that only he could provide. A rush of hot blood coursed through her, fine-tuning all her senses until they were filled only with him.
A Lover Awaits Page 5
