“What the hell was that all about?” Clay asked, approaching her and filching the card from her hand. “I didn’t even know you were dating someone, let alone that divine creature. You have been holding out on me, young lady.” He pointed at her with the card.
“We’re not dating,” she said casually, walking on unsteady legs to the box she’d been working through earlier. Leaning forward, her hair brushed the box and she stopped to put it back in its bun. The result was lopsided and looked like she’d placed a croissant on her head, but Clay ignored it.
“What?” Clay practically squealed. “Then why was he groping you in the literature section?”
“I have no idea. We never met before this morning. It just happened.” Jessie kneeled on the floor, looking for the pins Duncan had pulled out of her hair earlier.
“You vixen! I can’t believe it. You’re going to get rid of that pesky virginity of yours yet. I’ve been telling you for months to just go out and pick someone up, and here you are accosting cops at work. When are you going to see him again?” Clay asked eagerly, holding the card to his heart.
“I’m not,” Jessie said, taking the card away from Clay and putting it in the pocket of her skirt. “This was just some weird, isolated event. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his type. He probably has hundreds of emaciated, sultry blondes calling him on a daily basis. What would he want with someone as plain as me?”
“Maybe he has some taste?” Clay said facetiously, hands on hips. “He certainly looked into you from what I saw. He had his hands all over your girlie-parts. You should call him.”
“I will. If Theresa shows up,” Jessie said, evasively.
“You know that’s not what I meant. You should pursue something with that gorgeous cop. You’ve got his number. Ask him over to your place for dinner. Hetero guys love that. Make him something hearty like a Mamwhich or a side of beef and then take him into your bedroom and ravish him. That’s what I’d do.”
“I’m not you, Clay. I’m twenty-six years old, and virtually inexperienced. I’m practically a freak. They should put me in the circus,” Jessie shook her head, and nodded at two ancient Chinese women who had just entered the store. They headed over to the paperback bargain bins on the far end of the store, but Jessie lowered her voice anyway. “Seriously, a pheromone machine like that detective is probably used to a woman with some expertise in this area.”
“So, ask Jamie. I’m sure that little minx could give you some tips on how to wow him in the boudoir.” Clay gyrated his hips enthusiastically to add emphasis to his point.
“Just because she’s an exotic dancer, does not mean she’s promiscuous, Clay.” Jessie said angrily, holding up her finger in warning. “As a matter of fact, Jamie is very particular about the guys she ‘wows in the boudoir,’ as you say.”
“Don’t get your back up,” Clay said, abruptly stopping his hip thrusts, he held up both hands in supplication. “I’m sure Jamie is very particular. I never said she was a tart. All I meant was that, given her job, she probably knows what straight guys like. You should call her. Ask her for a femme fatale tutorial.”
“Clay, I’m not doing anything of the kind. It’s not going to happen. Forget about the detective. Please.” Jessie gave Clay a look that brooked no arguments, and walked toward the cashier’s desk. “God. I wish Jamie had never let you in on my little secret,” Jessie said over her shoulder.
“Being your age and still a virgin is nothing to be ashamed of, Jess. A hundred years ago, it would have been a prerequisite,” Clay said, following her, he jumped up and sat on the cashier’s desk beside her. He swung his legs in time with the Ella Fitzgerald music playing softly in the background.
“Well, today it practically makes me a featured story on Ripley’s Believe it or not.” Jessie whispered, as the two Chinese ladies approached with an armful of paperbacks. Clay served them cheerfully from his perch on the desk and then turned back to Jessie. The women smiled and walked out of the store.
“Okay, so we’ve established that your condition needs to be rectified. Let’s do something about it. Let’s set up a deflowering with the very desirable detective.” Clay wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jessie.
“Jeez, Clay.” Jessie rolled her eyes at him. “That sounds really romantic. Just like every girl dreams of. Can we just forget about this? Don’t you have some invoices to go through?”
“Okay, okay, but do me a favor and think about it. I hate seeing you so lonely,” Clay said, grabbing a handful of papers off the blotter.
“I’m not lonely, Clay,” Jessie said, wearily. “Just because I don’t spend six nights a week cruising the bar scene, doesn’t mean I’m lonely. I’m just quiet.”
“Hey, at least I put myself out there,” Clay said, shaking his papers at her. “But fine. You’re not lonely. But you do have that weird, paralyzing shyness thing around men. I’m sure all you need is to get to know one, and you’ll realize that there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’ll take the mystery out of them and you’ll be able to converse with all kinds of hot, available men without turning into some kind of shock victim.”
“Honestly, Clay. I think you’re oversimplifying things, just a tad. You’ve been watching too much Dr. Phil again, haven’t you? You honestly think that one night with the detective will be enough to change my entire personality?”
“I’ve gotta tell you, dearling. You don’t seem like a shrinking violet to me, and I’m sure Jamie would agree with me. Maybe this shyness thing isn’t really you. Maybe you just need someone to bring you out of your shell.”
“And you think the detective can do that?” Jessie asked, digging though her pockets to retrieve Duncan’s card. “Poof!” She said, circling it in the air like a magic wand. “I’m no longer a social misfit.”
“I don’t know if it will work, Jess. But what do you have to lose, besides your virginity?”
Chapter 4
Duncan sat behind the steering wheel of the unmarked, dark blue sedan and ran his hands through his hair again. He’d been doing this since leaving Forgotten Treasures five minutes ago. As a result, his dark hair stuck out wildly on both sides of his head like wings. He was too preoccupied to notice. He was confused, aroused, and most of all, angry with himself.
He’d been a cop for ten years now, and had never, ever molested an interviewee before. He’d never even been tempted. Obviously, I’ve been living the life of the celibate cop too long, Duncan thought as he turned the key in the ignition with more force than necessary. The unmarked police car roared to life. He gunned the motor and shook his head, pulling out into traffic without checking his blind spot. An approaching cab honked at him and Duncan flipped the driver the bird. The rain was so thick it was unlikely the driver saw the gesture, but it gave Duncan a small feeling of satisfaction anyway.
Maybe that blond guy is her boyfriend, he thought, turning the car toward home. That’s probably why she reacted so strongly when he came in. She couldn’t possibly be as innocent as she seemed. She was just scared her lover might go into a rage if he caught her being seduced by another man.
He remembered the tentative way she’d touched him and groaned under his breath. There was no way she had a boyfriend, he thought, shaking his head to clear his thoughts of her. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by a woman, especially one who kissed like and angel, and provoked such an intense reaction in him that he had trouble concentrating on anything else. Theresa was still out there somewhere and he needed to focus on finding her.
Two weeks ago, he’d received an unexpected phone call. He’d been at work, and had answered his desk phone with his usual brisk, “Reinhold.” The voice on the other end was old, and somewhat brittle, but still forceful.
“Duncan,” his grandmother said imperiously. “Is that how one answers the phone? You should know better.”
He recognized her voice immediately, and thought about hanging up or pretending not to speak English. They hadn’t spoken in ten years, and he saw no reason t
o change that now. From her censorious tone, she hadn’t changed at all. His curiosity got the best of him, however, and he said, “Grandmother. What a surprise. I didn’t realize Hell had frozen over. I should really pay more attention to the news, don’t you think?”
“Duncan. No need to be flippant. I wouldn’t be calling you unless I had to. The truth is that I need you.” Evelyn Reinhold’s voice faded at the end, like she resented needing anyone. Especially him. Duncan didn’t respond. He was in shock that she would admit to such a weakness. He just stared at the blank computer screen in front of him and took a sip from his cold coffee, waiting for her to continue. She finally spoke in a rush. “Your sister is missing and none of the private detectives I’ve hired have been able to find out anything. The whole useless bunch of them just took my money and couldn’t find a single clue. All we know is that she boarded a bus to Calgary two months ago and that she was begging on the streets there for a while. She could be anywhere now. Duncan. Can you look for her? I just can’t lose both of you…” Her voice broke completely. Duncan couldn’t remember that ever happening before. His grandmother was a force of nature, and yet, right now, she just sounded like an old lady.
“Can you send me a recent picture?” He asked, unable to ignore the pain in his grandmother’s voice. Theresa was actually his half-sister—the product of his mother’s liaison with an oil tycoon when Duncan was fourteen. He’d been too busy becoming interested in girls to bother with his half-sibling, so he’d never actually gotten to know Theresa. She’d come to live with his grandmother after he’d left his family far behind. The last time he’d seen his sister she’d been a precocious five-year-old with fluffy, blond braids and freckles on her nose. It was difficult to conceive of her being old enough to get on board a bus in Toronto by herself, let alone imagine her living on the streets.
“You should check your mail more often, Duncan. I sent you copies of all the information I have last week.”
“What?” Duncan asked, nearly choking on his mouthful of coffee. “You have my home address? How did you get your claws on that? I’m totally unlisted. One of the benefits of working in the sex crimes division.”
“Yes, one of the many benefits, I’m sure,” Evelyn said sarcastically. “Kevin gave me your information. He’s a very sensible young man, and knew you’d understand, under the circumstances.”
Kevin Hall was Duncan’s oldest friend. They’d known each other since kindergarten. Many of Duncan’s best childhood memories were of afternoons spent playing Bionic Man and Dukes of Hazzard with Kevin and his five younger brothers. Kevin’s hectic household was an escape from his own tense home environment with his grandmother. The occasional visits from his mother, when she wasn’t in rehab or traveling, were few and far between, and just seemed to aggravate the situation when they did occur. As a result, Duncan spent as much time at Kevin’s as he could without actually moving in.
Their friendship hadn’t faded as they grew older, as so many childhood relationships do. In high school, the two young men had shared a good-natured rivalry on the basketball court and football field, but the competition hadn’t altered their affection for one another. Kevin and Duncan also shared a passion for detective novels, comic books, shapely blond cheerleaders, and, most of all, hockey. They’d planned on becoming police officers together after university.
Unlike Duncan, Kevin left the force after a year to pursue his first love: writing. He was a soft touch where family was concerned. Duncan guessed this was a throwback from Kevin having a well-adjusted and loving family of his own while growing up. Kevin could never quite comprehend how Duncan could live on the other side of the country without having any contact with his family, despite the bad blood between Duncan and his grandmother.
Duncan understood why Kevin had revealed his whereabouts, but promised himself to beat the crap out of his friend, just on general principle, for giving into Evelyn so easily. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help find his half sister. He did. He just didn’t know how much he could contribute to the search. If he knew his grandmother at all, she’d hired the very best detectives her fortune could buy. She’d probably used all of her impressive political influence as well. Besides, this wasn’t his area. The department he worked in specialized in hunting men—rapists and pedophiles specifically—not runaways.
Duncan didn’t have much contact with the homeless, but he knew street kids were a migrating lot and many of them ended up in Vancouver when the weather in other parts of the country turned bad. If Theresa had been spotted panhandling in Calgary in June, it was quite likely that she’d eventually make the trip west. If she did come here, he could track her down and get her back to their grandmother where she belonged.
Jessica Martin was Duncan’s first real lead on the case. For the past two weeks, he’d been investigating leads on Theresa’s whereabouts during his every free moment. Today was actually his day off and he’d spent it showing various local shop owners her picture.
When Jessie actually confirmed that his half sister was in the area, he’d been excited, but it was muted. Nothing like when he had a breakthrough on one of his serious cases. He lived for that rush. There was nothing more satisfying than putting a predator in jail. It made him feel alive in a way that nothing else ever had. He felt useful, and needed, something he’d never felt anywhere else in his entire life.
Duncan had mixed feelings about finding Theresa. He wanted her safe, of course, but he knew finding Theresa also meant sending her back to grandmother. He didn’t feel quite right about that. The old lady wasn’t a monster, but she was cold and domineering. He’d left his home right after high school to get out from under her control, so he understood why Theresa had felt running away was her only option. The difference being that Duncan was 19, not 17 when he left, and he’d also had a wife and a job.
Life on the street was tough, terrible really, but at least she had her independence now, Duncan thought, driving the sedan into the underground parking lot of his apartment building on Georgia Street. He got out, and ran an appreciative hand over his Black BMW in the parking space next to the sedan. He had a weakness for fine automobiles, but used the sedan when he was out on business.
Duncan entered the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor. The doors opened on the first floor to reveal the building superintendent, Ted, who stepped on with an armful of light bulbs. Duncan nodded at Ted, who resembled Danny Devito, but didn’t say anything. Encouraging the nosy superintendent was a mistake. He always seemed to know exactly what was going on with everyone in the building, and Duncan didn’t want to be fodder for the gossip mill more than he was already. It didn’t help that Kevin was usually his only visitor. And his dog, Hannibal, a standard poodle that had belonged to his wife certainly hadn’t contributed to his butch image. A young, attractive, single man living alone in the west end of Vancouver who never entertained ladies was bound to be speculated about.
Walking into his apartment, Duncan fended off Hannibal’s enthusiastic greeting and immediately headed over to the balcony. The dog followed, looking up at him adoringly and he leaned down to pet the dog’s curly silver hide. Man and dog stepped out onto the large patio overlooking the city and harbor. The rain had stopped finally, and Duncan looked his fill at the city he had come to love.
Jessie is out there somewhere, Duncan thought to himself, and wondered if she was thinking of him. He tried to come up with some excuse to see her again, but drew a blank. He’d been out of the dating scene for so long that he didn’t really know how to proceed. How did a guy approach a strange woman without seeming like a stalker or a pervert? He’d groped her shamelessly already. Convincing her that his intentions were somewhat honorable was going to be difficult.
Duncan’s thoughts turned back to Theresa. He knew she needed to be found, but a small part of him—the rebel that had left his promising future as an executive in their family business behind to follow his dream of becoming a cop—admitted that he admired his missi
ng sister, just a little bit, for asserting herself like this and getting out from under grandmother’s control.
Mostly, he was angry and very afraid that something terrible would happen to her on the streets, but there was still that niggling sense of regret that he’d be an instrument for clipping his sister’s wings. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be his grandmother’s ally in a scheme to control anyone, and yet here he was, waiting impatiently for his cell phone to ring, so he could put Theresa back in her cage.
Chapter 5
Jessie needed a break. She’d been unloading boxes for the past three hours, and couldn’t remember where she’d put anything. Even the alphabet was beyond her right now. Her thoughts were that far away. Well, actually only a few feet away. Specifically, they were centered on the chair where she’d sat with the Detective that morning. She kept picturing the look in his eyes as he’d leaned down to kiss her neck, and the way his hands had felt in her hair. She wondered what would have happened if Clay hadn’t come in. Would she have come to her senses on her own, or would she have gotten up to lock the door at some point? Or more likely, would the detective have grown disgusted when he realized just how innocent she was?
Clay was no help at all. He’d found the Victorian erotica book she’d stashed in the crevice between the arm of the chair and the cushion, and began to read out passages to her between customers. He claimed it was research for her upcoming deflowering. Hearing about Lady Pearl and her amorous adventures with the butler, the gardener, and the burly town blacksmith had only contributed to her overheated condition. Finally, she’d bribed Clay to stop reading by promising to buy him a Chocolate Brownie Frappacino. Clay was sadly addicted to the Starbucks treat, so he stopped. Instead, he promptly took out a pink highlighter and began underlining sections he thought she should later memorize and put into practice.
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