Drive-By Daddy & Calamity Jo

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  Case leaned against the doorjamb, shook his head, and said, “You’ve succeeded in doing that, all right. And it looks like the changes have just begun.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” she retorted as she went back to rattling pots and pans.

  “If you’re hungry, why don’t you settle for a sandwich?” Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled out a chair, twirled it around, and sat. For some reason, he was getting a kick out of this. He didn’t mind seeing her thrown off-kilter, especially since his kiss was what seemed to have done it to her.

  She leaned against the counter, folded her hands across her waist, and said, “All right. Would you like one?”

  He thought she probably didn’t have a clue about the way that pose pushed her breasts up and out, and he wasn’t about to spoil the view. However, he was hungry, so he said, “I thought you’d never ask. What can I do?”

  Jo directed him to the bread and the sandwich makings while she found cans of cola and filled glasses with ice. Once they had everything set out, they sat on opposite sides of the table, made their snack, and ate in a more amicable atmosphere than Jo would have thought possible.

  “There’s one thing we’ve got to get clear between us,” she said firmly, waving a pickle spear at him.

  He liked the way she ate, with a careless kind of passion, snagging bits of lettuce and pickle from her turkey sandwich and nibbling them with gusto.

  He made himself focus on the challenge in her eyes rather than the softness of her lips. “What would that be?”

  “That kiss was a mistake. It…it only messes things up.”

  Yeah, like his mind. He nodded slowly as he wondered where she was going with this. “I see.”

  “We’re going to be working together. Partners, and nothing else.”

  He could barely hide his amusement. “Nothing else?”

  “That’s right. It’s a well-known fact that partners in investigations are at risk for affairs because they’re in a dangerous situation. I’m informing you right now that isn’t going to happen to us.”

  Case listened without interrupting. When she finished, he only stared at her.

  Why didn’t he say something? When Jo couldn’t wait any longer, she stumbled back into speech. “I’m one to give credit where it’s due. You’re an attractive man.”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her.

  That sardonic gesture kicked her nervousness up a few more notches. He was a very attractive man. Not to mention sexy and dangerous to her peace of mind. “And your kissing technique is very…acceptable.”

  He was laughing at her now. His eyes sparkled and his lips twitched. “Thank you, Jo. Yours isn’t bad, either.”

  Jo didn’t particularly like having her own faint praise turned back on her, but she forged ahead anyway. “So, what I’m saying is that we can’t have a repeat of that kiss.”

  Case leaned forward, gazed directly into her eyes and said, “Then don’t provoke me.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and swallowed a sharp retort about exactly who had been provoking whom. However, she felt foolish enough, so she said, “I won’t.”

  Not bloody likely, he thought, but he only gave her a bland look. It wouldn’t do for her to know how she’d gotten under his skin. He didn’t like to admit that, but since he had changed his life a few years ago, he had become a man who never lied to himself.

  He liked almost everything about her from that beautiful, smooth hair to those sea-green eyes to that killer mouth. She was smart and quick and stubborn and he knew she’d do just fine when she got where she wanted to be—working on a major newspaper, covering the kind of stories she thought were what she wanted. Dangerous ones, no doubt. The thought had dread fisting his guts into a knot.

  There wasn’t much real danger in the situation with Purdy, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked the idea of having her depend on him a little bit.

  Her future, the danger she might face, the stress, loneliness, overwork. All were her choice. He watched the way she pinched off a corner of bread and scooped it into her mouth. Her choice, and his misery.

  He finished his sandwich, stood abruptly and began putting everything back where he’d found it. Jo gave him a surprised look and said, “You’d be really handy to have around the house.”

  He shrugged. “I live alone and I don’t like mess, so I clean up after myself.”

  He lived alone. Somehow she’d known that. He’d said didn’t have a wife. He must not have a live-in girlfriend, either. That was good.

  He lived in Phoenix. He thought she was pursuing the wrong goal with her desire to have a faster-paced life and career. That was bad.

  Sometimes life just sucked.

  “Besides,” he went on. “I’ve got three older sisters. They trained me the way they wanted their husbands to be.”

  Jo, an only child, stared at him, fascinated. “Did it work?”

  “I can cook. I can clean. I can even change diapers.”

  Jo rested her forehead on the back of her hand. “Give me strength,” she moaned. “I’ve met the man of my dreams.”

  He chuckled, and then sobered. That man-of-her-dreams part sent a shock wave rocketing through him. Better get this back on track. He returned to the table and sat down opposite her.

  “There’s no need for you to go out with Purdy,” he said, proud of himself for his calm, reasonable tone of voice.

  “I might learn something important.”

  “We can both learn what we need to know at the meeting he’s having at his house tomorrow night. I suggest we go as a couple, listen to what he has to say, and act interested.”

  She shook her head. “Why would he think we’re a couple? Most people there will know you just arrived in town and that we’re not a couple because Steve and I only broke up a few days ago.”

  “That’s the beauty of it, Jo. You’re heartbroken because you were dumped. Fortunately, I was right there to comfort you.”

  “Uh, yes, Case, but you seem to be playing the part of a doofus.” She grinned suddenly. “Is he going to believe that a smart woman like me would be interested in you?”

  He leaned across the table and looked into her eyes. “I’ve got news for you. He thinks you’re not too bright, or why would you be living in this little hick town writing up newspaper reports on the repairs to the high-school roof? Remember, he said it was ‘sweet’?”

  Case must have been eavesdropping when Harold had said that. “Nevertheless,” she responded grimly. “If I break the date now he might get suspicious.”

  Case threw his hands in the air. “Of what?” She didn’t know, so she bluffed. She picked up a paper napkin and began pleating it between her fingers. “That maybe…maybe I’ve learned something about him that would cause me to break the date, that I’ve learned he’s a con man.”

  “That’s so transparent I could read the Ingot through it,” Case scoffed. “It’s more likely that he’ll have second thoughts and decide you’re trying to pump him for information and that you might blow his scam even though he seems bent on assuring you that his humble little story would be of interest to no one. He’ll probably be relieved if you call off the date.”

  “Perhaps,” she admitted. She folded her hands on the top of the table and gave him a straight look. “I’m going to do it, though.”

  He pushed his chair back, stomped around the room, and growled, “God, you’re stubborn.”

  “Which is why I’m good at my job,” she said. At least, she fervently hoped she could be good at this. How did she know? She’d never been in this situation before, never been on the verge of a big story. Couldn’t Case see that she was worried? The butterflies in her stomach were whirling around like the blades on a food processor. It would be so easy for her to back down, to forget this whole thing, to go right back to reporting on parking-lot and roof repairs. She was struggling to get out of her rut and she felt like he had one of his biker boots planted on top of her
head.

  She wanted him to approve of what she was doing, Jo thought uncomfortably. It was important to her.

  Good grief, she thought as she watched him pace around her tiny kitchen. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall in love with him.

  He stopped, leaned against the sink, and glared at her.

  Impossible. She couldn’t fall in love with a man she’d known three days. Besides, she wasn’t over Steve yet. Was she?

  “Well, hell,” Case finally muttered. “It looks like I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, so we might as well decide how you’re going to play it.” He pointed a finger at her. “And don’t start getting any ideas about wearing that slinky black dress with air molecules where the back should be.”

  Relief washed through her that he’d agreed to her plan. “That dress would hardly be appropriate for dinner at the Lotus Blossom.”

  “Good. Where’d you get that thing, anyway?”

  “Bought it at a thrift store,” she said with a grin. “I wore it to a Halloween party. I was the Mistress of the Dark.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t wear anything that will give Purdy the idea that you’re going to be his mistress.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she answered demurely. “I don’t think things will go that far.” She paused and gave him a sly glance. “I don’t suppose I’ll be wired with a microphone to record what he tells me, will I?”

  “No. I don’t have that kind of equipment with me.”

  “Well, what kind of investigator shows up without electronic bugging devices?”

  “One who doesn’t want to get arrested.”

  “Then I’ll have to take my tape recorder along, and…what’s the matter?”

  Case was shaking is head. “Do you think Purdy’s going to let you record him?”

  “Well, sure. I’m a reporter, I’m interested in what he has to say and I might want to write an article about him.”

  “He’s not taking you out to get interviewed. He only wants to romance you to keep you from writing about him. Do you think he’s stayed out of jail this long by giving interviews to reporters? Even a reporter he thinks isn’t very bright because she works on a little hick-town newspaper?”

  “I can at least ask if I can record him. I won’t know unless I ask.”

  “Stubbornness, thy name is Jo Ella,” Case groaned.

  Jo didn’t answer because it would only prolong the argument. Besides, in spite of her qualms, and his, she was beginning to get excited about this. “And where will you be while I’m having dinner with him?”

  Hanging around outside plotting his murder if he touches you, Case thought, but he only answered, “Oh, I’ll be around. I’ll see you at the meeting at his place.”

  “You can do your lamebrain act. I can take pity on you, and we can sit together,” she said impishly. “Everyone will think I’m a true humanitarian.”

  His smile kicked up one corner of his mouth. “Just you wait. My dimwit persona might come in handy.”

  Case stood and started for the door and she followed him. With his hand on the knob, he glanced back at her and said, “Remember, though, that what you’re doing is only an act, as well.”

  Jo heard the same edge in his voice she had heard when they’d been talking to Harold Purdy, and it still puzzled her. It couldn’t be jealousy, but it almost sounded like it. She smiled to herself. She wasn’t the type of woman who inspired jealousy.

  “I’ll remember, Case,” she promised faithfully. He paused for another few seconds as if he had more to say, his dark eyes fixed on her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Be careful,” he said. “Purdy may be more than we expect him to be. He hasn’t stayed in this business for as long as he has by being stupid. And Jo…”

  “Yes?”

  “Remember, don’t wear anything too sexy tomorrow night.”

  She stared at him. Did he really think she was going to vamp the professor? “Except for my Mistress of the Dark number, I don’t have any sexy clothes, Case.”

  He opened his mouth as if he was going to argue, but instead, he said, “Good. We don’t want to give him the idea that he’s going to get you between the sheets to finish off the evening.” Then he swept out the door and was gone.

  “O-o-o-o-oh.” Jo jerked the door open and shouted after him. “I can take care of myself, you know!”

  There was no answer. He’d disappeared into the darkness. Frustrated, she closed the door and locked it. She was glad he’d gone. Otherwise he might have learned that his last words made her nervous. She didn’t know what to expect, but she didn’t want to spend the evening fighting off Purdy’s advances. Nor did she want to spend it figuring out ways to stay out of danger. In fact, despite her babbling remarks to Case about their kisses being a reaction to a dangerous situation, she really didn’t think she had much to fear from Harold. He was a talker, not a fighter. Still, now she wished Case was going to be there. Even in his doofus mode, she knew she could depend on him.

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. This was what she wanted, she reminded herself fiercely. Hard-nosed investigative reporters didn’t turn and run at the first sign of danger. They didn’t need backup in the form of smart, well-muscled, and sexy investigators.

  And if she kept saying that, she might actually begin to believe it sometime before six o’clock tomorrow evening.

  “OF COURSE, during my time with the Institute, I studied under Dr. Ralph Twicklesworth, whose ideas on time and space are well-known.”

  “Really, Harold? How fascinating.” Jo smiled serenely and sipped her tea. So far the evening was going well. In spite of her annoyance with Case’s bossiness, she’d taken his suggestion and dressed demurely in a black skirt and a white silk blouse with small pearl buttons that fastened almost to her throat. She had met Harold at the restaurant as planned and so far he’d been an impeccable host.

  Everything about this man should have been perfect, Jo thought. Harold’s clothes were well-made and understated. Even though he affected an ascot instead of a tie, it somehow suited him. He didn’t have a hair out of place and looked as though he tweezed his eyebrows to get them in shape, as well. His hands were manicured and unblemished by hard work. He wore exactly the right amount of cologne. The second hand on his Rolex watch swept smoothly from one second to the next without the jerky movement of a fake. His conversation was sophisticated and witty. Delivered in that awesome cadence, it was irresistible.

  So why was she fighting the urge to lay her head right down on the table and go to sleep?

  “I haven’t heard of Dr. Twicklesworth’s theories before, Harold,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Why don’t you explain them to me?” She reached into her purse to remove the small recorder. “And I’m sure you won’t mind if I tape what you say, will you? You’ve given me so much to think about this evening that I’m quite certain I won’t be able to keep it all straight in my head.”

  He paused, his blue eyes narrowing for a second at her guileless smile. She put every ounce of warmth she could muster into that smile. It should have boiled the soy sauce he was sprinkling on his extra spicy beef and broccoli.

  Then he smiled, replaced the soy-sauce bottle on its saucer and reached smoothly across the table to take the recorder from her hand.

  Surprised, she stared at him as he said, “Oh, let’s don’t do that.” He leaned forward suggestively and looked at her as if the two of them were the only ones in the room. “Having that little electronic tool out will spoil the intimacy between us.”

  Intimacy? Yikes. Jo gulped and smiled sweetly as she took the recorder back and put it away. “Of course you’re right, Harold. You’re so wise.”

  He preened and sat back, continuing his monologue about Dr. Twicklesworth’s theories while Jo gnashed her teeth. Resigned, she ate her lemon chicken and made appropriate remarks whenever he paused for breath.

  To his credit, when she did speak, he paused as if he was hearing pronouncements from
Mount Olympus and gave her his full attention. It was very flattering, but she kept wishing he’d make a pitch for money so she would have something to focus on. But oh, no, he’d talked about his education, his travels, asked about her job, smirked at the stories she’d covered. She wanted to kick him under the table even though she knew it was hypocritical to poke fun at the Ingot herself and then become incensed when someone else did it.

  Case had been right. Harold thought she wasn’t exactly overburdened with brains and she had to continue with that boring act or risk giving away her secret agenda.

  A disturbance at the table next to them caught her attention and she glanced over to see a little old man being shown to his seat directly behind Harold. With a shaking hand, he pulled out his chair and sat heavily as if his tired legs were giving way beneath him. It took him a few minutes to arrange himself, first removing a musty old coat, then smoothing his long gray hair and beard. Finally, he settled down and picked up a menu the waitress had left him. Squinting, he struggled to read it. When the waitress returned, he gave his order in a creaking voice, then sat sipping from his water glass.

  Jo smiled sympathetically at the old gentleman, but he didn’t see her. Harold, involved in what he was saying, didn’t even notice.

  “I have to admit it’s a somewhat lonely life, Jo,” Harold was saying. “I’ve spent many years on the road, working to help people.”

  “You mean with financial advice?”

  “That and other things I’ve learned from years of scientific study.”

  Her expression full of melting warmth, Jo said, “Please tell me about it.” There was something odd about that old man, she thought, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His long hair and flowing beard looked like the latest word in rat’s-nest chic. His clothes could only be described as scruffy, but in a place like Calamity Falls, a man of his appearance wasn’t an unusual sight. In fact, it seemed she was the only person in the place who had even noticed him.