Yasmine Galenorn - Chintz 'n China 02
Page 10
“Listen, Oliver—” As the weariness of yet another disaster descended on my shoulders, I realized I didn’t have the strength to argue. “That’s very kind of you.”
He reached out and for a moment I thought he was going to pat my hand, but then he simply removed the whisk broom and dustpan I’d carried out from the kitchen in my state of dazed confusion, and set to work out on the porch. A few minutes later, he asked me where I kept my garbage can. I told him that it was near the back of the house, next to the kitchen door, and he disappeared down the steps and around the house.
Murray frowned. “Who’s that?”
“Ida’s nephew, Oliver. I told you about him, remember? He seems nice enough, in an odd sort of way. So, what should I do? Get a security system for my home, too? I don’t want to live in a locked box. I don’t even know why this is happening.” I couldn’t imagine turning my house into an armed fortress.
“The telescope was probably just an accident. Maybe
the same person who trashed your shop is also responsible for breaking your window.” She leaned against one of the columns.
I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I suppose it could be two different people. Stranger things have happened, but I think you’re right. I think the incidents are related in some way. I just don’t know how or why.”
“Given the writing on the brick, we just might be looking at Jimbo. This stunt would be right up his alley.”
I glanced over at Horvald. He looked so deep in thought that he probably couldn’t even hear us. “Did you catch up to him yet?” I’d almost managed to forget my altercation with redneck-boy.
She grinned. “Yeah. He insisted he had no idea who you were and said he’d never heard of your shop. We got a half-assed alibi out of him for Sunday night, but it hasn’t checked out yet. I’ll have another talk with him after I leave here. He’s probably over at Reuben’s or the Brown Bear. I gather he spends most of his spare time there. No girlfriend. No ex-wife—apparently nobody was ever stupid enough to marry him. No kids around that I can tell. He’s a loner and keeps to himself except when he’s drunk.”
Horvald snapped his fingers. He’d been concentrating so hard that I’d been worried he might blow a circuit. “I remember something! Last night I was out working in the zinnia garden. I was getting cold and was about to go inside when I saw a chopper drive by, real slow. I think it was black with red detailing along the sides. The man riding it was wearing black chaps, a black helmet, and dark glasses. I remember thinking that he didn’t belong in this neighborhood, or I would have noticed him before.”
Murray jotted the info down. “Anything else? License plate, maybe?”
Horvald went back to concentrating but shook his head
after a moment. “I’m sorry. I was worried about my flowers. The aphids are going to be thick this year, and I wanted to make sure they didn’t set up house on the zinnias. Only noticed the biker because, when I was young, I used to ride, and detailed bikes always catch my eye.”
I could tell Murray was suppressing a smile. The thought of this grandfatherly man on a Harley seemed almost comical, but then again, there were a lot of old bikers around, and they were still in good shape. “That’s fine. Do you think you’d recognize it again if you saw it?”
Horvald gave us a self-satisfied smile and dipped his head. “Yep. It was a beauty, hard to miss.” He mumbled good-bye and hurried across the street to his yard, settling back into weeding the patch of phlox spreading parallel to the path that led from the sidewalk to his house. He was trying to train the floral groundcover, but it still looked like a giant pink jumble to me.
Sandy Whitmeyer popped out, holding a paper bag. “Detective Murray? Surprise of surprises, we managed to lift a couple of prints off the brick. Everything’s ready to go”
“Excellent,” Murray said, her eyes lighting up. “Okay, if everything’s bagged, then head back to the station with the evidence. I’ll be along in a few.” The sound of tires crunching on gravel heralded Joe’s arrival. Murray flipped her notebook shut. “Em, it looks like we’ve got everything we’re going to get here.”
I wanted to hug her but refrained. I wasn’t about to show her anything but professional respect when other officers were present. There was no way of knowing who might be one of Coughlan’s snitches. They headed over to the prowl car.
Joe shouted a quick hello to them as he bounded up the stairs. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then stood gaping at what had, until recently, been my living room window. After a few minutes, Miranda and Kip joined us on the porch.
Randa perched on the wide railing that overlooked the front yard. “Mom, Mrs. Trask called, but you were busy with the cops, so I took a message.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she won’t be back for about a week; her friend was really banged up and needs hen She left her number for you to call her.”
“Thanks, sugar. You’re a good girl.”
“No problem. Kip and I did the dishes and made a sandwich for you,” she added. My two miracle workers. They could be such little bullheads, but when I needed them, they came through. “What are we going to do about the window tonight? The living room’s still full of glass.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t want lo leave the house alone, but I’m not letting you two slay here until we get it fixed. I’m going lo call Harlow and see if she’ll keep you overnight I’ll sleep here and keep watch.”
Miranda squirmed, obviously uncomfortable. “Mom, you could get hurt.” Kip chimed in, echoing her sentiments. I tried to reassure them, but they were both adamant about me nol slaying alone. Defeated, I slumped back onto the swing and gave Joe a pleading look. If he took my side, they might back off.
Straddling the porch wall, he rested his head against one of the columns. Jeez, the guy was gorgeous. Viking blood, for sure. I look a deep breath and brought my focus back to where it belonged as he offered a compromise. “What if you kids slay over al Harlow’s and I slay here with your mother and make sure she comes to no harm? That way everybody will be happy. We can rig up a tarp across the window until tomorrow.”
Everybody happy indeed! His eyes danced wilt a light that no amount of scolding was going to vanquish. Miranda and Kip agreed and raced down the foyer hall,- into the kitchen to phone Harlow. I gave Joe a scathing look, but he just grinned. “You’re staying here with me? My dear, you know how Andrew would feel about that. Regardless of who sleeps where, he’s going to be pissed.”
“I also know that you’d be in danger here by yourself, and I don’t see Andrew anywhere around to help out. So no protests, Ms. O’Brien. I’m younger than you and stronger than you and I can run a whole lot faster.”
He winked at me and, infuriated but laughing, I accepted his offer. The kids would feel better, I’d be safer, and at least I wouldn’t sit up all night imaging noises and intruders in the house. I repressed a snort. Actually, I probably would be imagining things. Just not scary monsters and drunken rednecks. Maybe my cabana boy could pop back in my dreams and give me a rubdown to take the knots out of my shoulders, only I had the feeling that if he did, Pedro would be wearing a uniform and fire helmet this time instead of a loincloth.
“I emptied the glass into a box that I found near your back door, then set it near the garbage can. I didn’t think you’d want it loose in the can.” Oliver edged his way around the house and back up on the porch, looking from Joe to me, back to Joe again.
I jumped; I’d almost forgotten he was around. “Thanks, Oliver. I owe you one. You take after your aunt, all right.” He was staring pointedly at Joe and, still blushing, I tripped over my words as I introduced them.
Oliver eyed Joe. “You’re the playwright, correct?”
Embarrassed, I shook my head. Ida must have filled him in on local news. “Joe’s captain of the medic rescue unit. You’re thinking of Andrew. He’s out of town; hopefully striking a deal in Hollywood right now.”
“I can help if you like,” Oliver offered. I protested that he was doing too much, but he laughed me off. “Please, let me help. I’ve spent the past three years sitting around doing nothing; I like being active.”
We measured the window; tomorrow Joe would order the new pane. I would turn the reins of the shop over to Cinnamon and wait at home for the glass to be delivered. I pressed some cookies on Oliver before he left. As I retreated to the kitchen to make tea and eat my sandwich something seemed out of place. I looked around, but everything looked in order. Probably just nerves. After all, somebody had tossed a brick through my window; that was bound to shake me up.
Joe drove the kids over to Harlow’s while I cleaned the glass up off the living room floor, managing to inflict several nasty cuts on my fingers as I picked up the bigger shards, then vacuumed sliver after sliver off the back of the sofa and the floor. Thank heavens I hadn’t chosen a shag carpet, or I’d never have gotten the mess up. As it was, we were going to have to watch our step for a while.
After Joe returned, we fitted a tarp across the window and sat around in the growing darkness, playing games and watching low-budget horror flicks on the Sci-Fi Channel. As the evening wore on, our conversation took a detour.
Joe fiddled with the Scrabble tiles as we cleared up from our game. “So tell me about your ex-husband, Em. What did he do to make you run?”
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I settled in with my popcorn.
“Life’s too short. If I want to know something, I ask.”
Why did I take the kids and run? ‘Too many reasons to count, the last being that my daughter arrived home from school early one day just in time to catch Roy screwing his mistress in her bed. Poor kid is still traumatized over it.”
He whistled and leaned back on the sofa, stretching out his legs. “Too bad you don’t have a big brother who could have whipped his ass for you. Sounds like that boy needs a lesson in manners.”
“Yeah, well, he seemed to think that since he paid for the house, he had free license. He pushed me around a lot; beat me up once or twice. Nothing that would show, he was careful to keep up appearances. He never hit the kids, though. I would have killed him if he did.”
Joe let out a loud sigh. “Too much of that going around. Well, it looks like you managed to make your way just fine.”
I gave him a satisfied smile. “Yeah. We do fine; well, until recently, that is. The kids are happy, I’m happy, we have a home and pets and my shop is popular. I’m not complaining, even with the way this last week’s gone. Cycles come and go; everybody has their off times.”
“Emerald, do you realize how pretty you are when you smile like that?” He leaned toward me, and goose bumps raced up my arms.
I stared at him, breathless. “Joe—I…”
He reached out and ran his fingers along my cheek. “Don’t say it. I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. I just want you to know how I feel. I want you to remember that I’m here, because my guess is one day you’re going to turn around, and Andrew’s going to have flown the coop.”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His fingers didn’t produce the sharp sparks I was used to with Andrew, but a gentle rolling wave of desire that went on and on. I fought for self-control, reminding myself that Andrew was my boyfriend and, regardless of our difficulties, I wasn’t about to hurt him. A thin layer of perspiration beaded up on my lip. “Joe—” I warned as I slid out of the way when he leaned in for a kiss. “I can’t. You wouldn’t respect me if I cheated on Andrew. I know you too well. And I’ve got too much self-respect to do to him what my ex-husband did to me.”
He pulled back. After a moment, he sighed. “Sometimes I hate it that you’re so damned wonderful. I won’t pressure you, but I won’t promise to stop thinking about you, either.” With a grin, he arched his eyebrows then wiggled them in a playful leer.
Relieved that we’d passed the test but confused because everything between us felt so right, I decided that activity was my best defense against getting sucked into the feeling again. ‘Twerp. I’ve got to feed the cats. I’ll get your blankets in a few minutes.”
“Need help?” He followed me into the kitchen.
I scowled. “Man, you are askin’ for it! Now, if you really want to help, you can empty the garbage for me.”
He snorted, then hoisted the bag out of the trash can. “As I said, I’m hanging around. It’s only a matter of time until you change your mind and realize that I’m the right guy for you.” With a final wink, he took off out to the driveway.
In the safety of my kitchen, I leaned against the counter and fought back the desire to rip off my clothes and play doctor with Joe the Medic. My pulse was racing, and if he took my temperature now, I’d have a fever so hot you could light matches on it.
I forced myself to focus and grabbed the cat food, filling four dishes and carrying them to the guest room on a tray. They could stay in there all night; otherwise they’d raise havoc trying to play with the tarp because they were cats, and that’s what cats do. On the way back into the living room, I made a quick detour to the linen closet to collect a quilt, sheets, and another pillow, then tossed them on the sofa.
“There you go, you can make up your bed. Night, Joe. Sweet dreams.”
He rested his hand on my arm. “Wait up. I didn’t get my good night kiss.”
Laughing, I tried to break away. “And did I say you were getting one? Sleep well, fireman. The tarp should protect you from bugs and beasties and things that go bump in the night.”
With a gentle hand, he lifted my chin so that I was staring into his eyes. “Good night, Emerald. Please don’t fret, I’ll keep watch down here.” He slowly reached down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. My knees melted, and I wanted nothing more than to slide into his arms. His eyes were sparkling. “Pleasant dreams.”
Pleasant dreams? I doubted that my dreams would be restful, and I wasn’t surprised when sleep ran me a merry chase until the late hours of the night.
THE PHONE WOKE me up; probably a good thing since my dream was starting to take an unsavory turn toward the nightmarish side of town. I blinked twice, then grabbed the receiver. “Huh?”
“Good morning to you, too.” Murray’s voice shook me fully out of the dream. “Got some news for you. The print paid off. Jimbo was holding on to that brick. I went hunting for him this morning, but no can find. He got smashed at the Brown Bear last night, got in another argument with the manager, then wandered off. When we checked out his … I guess you could call it a house—the man lives in a shack out near Miner’s Lake—he wasn’t there. I saw some loose bricks in the yard, though, and I think they match the one that came through your window last night.” I took a deep breath. “And he’s still on the street?” “Yeah. I also checked on his alibi for where he was Sunday night, and it didn’t jibe. We suspect he might be the one who vandalized your shop, Em. We don’t have any proof, but we do know he holds grudges.”
Grateful that we had at least one answer, I said, “Okay. So, what are you going to do about him? He’s obviously mad at me. I don’t think the kids and I are safe while he’s still wandering around free.”
“We’re trying to find him, Em. When we do, he’ll be charged with destruction of property. I’ve asked for a search warrant to go through his house; I’ve got probable cause now, and I’m thinking that maybe we can find evidence regarding your shop.” She was brisk, almost brusque, but I could hear the underlying weariness in her voice.
“Job’s getting to you, isn’t it? I can hear it in your voice.” I wanted to help, to be able to reach out with a magic wand, tap her on the forehead, and make everything all better. “Murray, have you thought about
what I said before? About talking to Tad Bonner?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, and I’m not going to go whining to him, no matter how nice he is. You just don’t get it, Em. Anyway, did you sleep okay?”
Oops, touchy. I backed off. “Uh, yeah. Joe was here. He slept downstairs.” She snorted. “Nothing happened,” I protested.
‘Too bad. He’s a nice guy. I like him.” I could hear papers rustle, and then she was back to being all business. “I’ll call you if we have any new information. Meanwhile, stay alert. I checked on the vehicles Jimbo has registered at the DMV, and sure enough, one of them just happens to be a black chopper with red detail.”
I signed off and crawled out of bed, ducking into the shower for a brief rinse before I clambered into a pair of culottes and a gauze top. As I slipped on my huaraches, I thought about Jimbo. So he’d decided to make good on his threat. Well, at least I knew who to look out for. When I jogged down the stairs, Joe was talking on his cell phone. He flipped it shut after a moment and eyed me with a speculative gaze. “Headed south of the border, senorita?”