Drive-By Daddy & Calamity Jo

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  While Harold spoke, Jo secretly watched the reactions of the others. As he poured forth his pseudo-scientific theories, Cedric and Charlotte, and a few other people, appeared to be more and more intrigued. She thought it was interesting that they were all people she knew to have an interest in science, they each had their own area of expertise, some as odd as the ideas Harold was presenting.

  “The earth is not round, or as the ancients believed, flat, but concave.”

  Jo stared at Harold when he made that statement. Beside her, Case appeared to be swallowing a laugh. Several other people looked puzzled, but interested. Freida looked, quite simply enthralled with him. Anything he said would have intrigued her.

  Freida’s expression made Jo especially uncomfortable because she recognized it as that of a woman in love. She wondered if she’d ever gazed at Steve like that. Or if Case had ever looked at a woman like that.

  Maybe. A man didn’t usually reach the age of…what?…thirty?…without having experienced being in love. What was Case like when he was in love? Did he send flowers? Romantic gifts? What kind of lover was he? Slow, thoughtful and considerate, or quick and careless?

  Nah, she didn’t think so. He seemed to be careful about everything. Suddenly she became aware that he was staring at her.

  He mouthed the words, “What’s wrong?” at her.

  Appalled at her thoughts, she shook her head quickly and fixed her attention on Harold.

  That was what a professional investigative reporter did, she scolded herself. They got all the information possible on the subject of their investigation. They didn’t sit and moon over their fellow investigators.

  It was hard to listen to Harold, since his theory of how the earth was formed seemed to make little sense. She fought to keep the skepticism from her face, maintaining a fascinated and enthralled expression.

  To her surprise, the pitch for money never materialized. Harold wound up his remarks by inviting them back again the next afternoon to hear more on the subject. He then swept into the small audience, shaking hands, hugging those who already seemed to believe him, like Charlotte and Freida. He seemed to know exactly the right thing to say to everyone, even Case, whom he clapped on the shoulder in hearty welcome.

  “I’ll hope to see you here tomorrow, young man,” he said smiling warmly. “You look like someone who would want to learn as much as possible about how to be a real man and about man’s place in the world.” He leaned in close and said, “And don’t you worry, you’ll be able to grow a beard one of these days.”

  Jo had to stifle a laugh when she saw the way Case’s eyes narrowed and his jaw worked as if he wanted to spit bullets. She was ready to jump in and intervene when he got his reaction under control and grinned his foolish grin. “Thank you, Professor,” he mumbled, ducking his head humbly. “How nice that someone as smart as you are would want to encourage me.”

  “And lovely Jo Ella.” Harold’s voice hit its lowest, most engaging, sexiest register as he took her hand, turned it, and suavely kissed the back of it. He lifted his eyes to hers. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. I’ll be looking forward to many more in the future.”

  Although she was taken aback, and fully aware of Case standing beside her, giving her that patently fake gaze of adoration, she managed a welcoming smile and said, “Harold, I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed an evening more. The conversation was so stimulating.” She took a deep breath so that her chest expanded and her buttons strained as if they were about to pop open. “I truly don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink tonight. You’ve given me so much to think about, the ideas are simply pounding through my brain.” She reached up and trailed a finger down her cheek provocatively. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m eager, absolutely eager, to hear more.”

  Behind Harold, she saw Freida Long watching them with a stricken expression in her eyes. Jo felt terrible because she knew the older woman was in love with Harold. Charlotte put a protective arm around Freida and gave her a hug. Jo wanted to say something reassuring, but knew she couldn’t. What could she have said, anyway? Freida seemed like a nice lady and didn’t deserve someone like Harold.

  “We’d better go, Jo,” Case said in his wimpy tone. Only she could hear the edge to it. “The professor is probably tired and would like to have some time alone.” He started pulling her toward the door, but Harold still had her hand, so for an instant there was a momentary struggle she feared would jerk her arms from their sockets.

  Case won the tug-of-war, though, and quickly hustled her out the door. Jo had the presence of mind to give Harold a fleeting smile of regret as she went.

  Once they were outside, Case put his right arm around her waist and his left hand on her arm and frog-marched her toward home.

  “His ideas pounding through your brain?” he grumbled. “You’re eager to hear more?”

  “What else was I supposed to say?” she demanded, trying to jerk herself free of his grasp before he cut off all circulation to her arm and lower body. She finally managed to stumble away from him as they reached the stairs leading to her street. She grabbed the handrail and scurried up. “Should I have told him we know he’s a con man and we’re going to do everything possible to put him in jail?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not being any more ridiculous than you are right now,” she shot back, even as she acknowledged the childishness of that response.

  They made the rest of the trip to her house in grim, seething silence.

  Once they arrived, there was no question about whether or not Case would come inside. She had a few things she wanted to say to him, so she unlocked the door and swept into her house, then looked back at him, eyes wide and commanding.

  He lifted an eyebrow at her silent command, but he strolled in behind her. “Are we going to argue?”

  This time, he was the one asking the question and she was the one answering, “Yes.”

  “Neither of us is hungry, right?” he said in a wary tone.

  “Not tonight.” She folded her arms in that provocative way she had and Case had to fight the grin that wanted to surface. It made him think of a wife taking her husband to task. Wife? he thought as a jolt went through him. The grin died.

  He cleared his throat. “Or we could skip the fight and decide what we’re going to do next.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. I felt like it was the right thing to do to disguise myself, follow you, and take notes of what Purdy said, but I admit I should have told you what I was going to do. I’m sorry.”

  Jo blinked. He was apologizing. Yet another surprise.

  “So, I’ll forget what you said about my obsession with facial hair, but you’ve got to promise me one thing.”

  For some reason, happiness was bubbling away inside her. “What’s that?”

  “No more femme-fatale routines, okay?” he grumbled. “No more displays of your…female qualifications.”

  Jo grinned. For some reason, this absolutely delighted her. He was scowling at her, his jaw was set, his eyes dark and stormy, but she was delighted.

  “Agreed,” she said with a nod and was rewarded by the relief she saw sweep through his eyes. She sat down and motioned him to a seat.

  He stared at her for a few seconds as if there was more he wanted to say, but he finally nodded and sat in the same chair he’d used the night before. “We’ve picked up a lot of information tonight and from what Starina told us, there’s a lot more to learn.”

  “We can talk to her in the morning and find out all she knows.”

  “What about Harold’s meeting tomorrow?”

  “What about it?”

  Jo paused, took a deep breath, and said, “Even though he invited you specifically, which means he’s probably not suspicious of you, I think I should go alone.”

  He jerked upright. “The hell you say.”

  “Now listen to me,” she said, waving him back to his seat. “The one thing my little performance did this evening was to
put him off his guard. He thinks I’m a bimbo he can influence as he chooses.” Jo leaned forward excitedly. “What if he thinks I’m a wealthy bimbo?”

  “One who lives in Calamity Falls, Arizona?” Case scoffed. “Why would he fall for that?”

  “I already told him that I came here to help out my uncle Don. I’ve been to the women’s club meeting where Harold talked about finances. I don’t think it would be that hard to convince him I need his financial advice. And I think he would be more forthcoming if I went alone tomorrow.”

  Case regarded her for a long time. Unfortunately, what she was saying made sense. Still, he shook his head. “I don’t like it. We still don’t know what his con is.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Well, do you have an alternative suggestion?”

  Case brooded on that question for a few seconds, turning various possibilities over in his mind. “No,” he finally admitted. “I don’t.”

  Jo waited for him to add something, but he remained silent, his feet stretched out before him, examining the toes of his boots. She tried to study his face and comprehend what he was thinking, but he gave her no clues.

  Disappointed, she said, “We can do the same thing we’ve been doing—meeting up afterwards—and I can tell you what happened.”

  Case nodded, stood, and started for the door. “Will you be at the Ingot office tomorrow, or shall I come by here to pick you up for our talk with Starina?”

  “Here,” Jo answered. “I’ve told Uncle Don that I’m working on a special story and I’ll be out of the office for a few days.”

  Again, Case nodded as he reached for the doorknob. Jo stared at him, uncertain of what to say. She trailed him to the door, watching in puzzlement as he lingered there.

  “Case?” she asked. “You do agree that it’s best if I go alone tomorrow, don’t you? Even though Harold doesn’t think you’re very bright, he’ll probably be more willing to talk if you’re not around.”

  “Yes.” He glanced at her from beneath his brows. “What are you going to wear?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Why are you so obsessed with my clothes?”

  “It’s not your clothes,” he growled. He abandoned the door, turned suddenly, and swept her into his arms. “It’s your body.”

  His lips met hers in a kiss and Jo felt her bones disintegrate and slide right out of her body. Somehow, she found the strength to put her arms around him and kiss him back, though.

  “I don’t want Harold looking at your body,” he said, sliding his kiss over to her cheek, then her ear. His breath puffed warmly against her earlobe as he said, “I don’t want anyone looking at it except me.”

  Heat exploded inside her. “Case? What do you mean?” She had a pretty good idea, but she wanted to hear him say it. While she waited, she got in a couple of good kisses of her own.

  “Don’t be dense. You’re a hotshot reporter. You must know I want to make love to you.” His mouth was scorching her. And not just once. Over and over again.

  Jo was flattered, delighted. Yet confusion and longing buffeted her. This couldn’t be love. A week ago she’d thought she was in love with Steve. She’d only known Case a few days. Wanting wasn’t the same as loving him.

  “And until I can make love to you, until you’re ready for me, I don’t want Purdy looking at you.”

  She turned her face to meet his lips with hers. “Case that’s a…a very unrealistic way of…”

  “So call me old-fashioned,” he said. “Do you think that favorite thrift store of yours has a nun’s habit around somewhere that you could wear? You could tell Purdy that you’ve decided to join up, and…”

  “You’re crazy,” she murmured, putting her hands on each side of his head and holding him still so she could get the full impact of his kiss.

  “I could say ‘You make me crazy, baby,’ but that’s too much of a cliché. Too bad it’s true,” he grumbled.

  “I find that flattering,” said, smiling up at him. “And I could say ‘Your kisses drive me wild,’ but that would be a really sickening cliché, too.”

  “Yeah, but is it true?”

  Jo sighed against his lips. “O-o-oh, yeah. You’re really good at this. I could write a newspaper article on kissing techniques. Yours rates a ten.”

  “Better than Steve?”

  “Much better.”

  “Good. I don’t want you finding out how Purdy kisses, though.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “It would completely cloud your reporter’s objectivity.”

  She started to answer, but he groaned and covered her mouth with his once again. “This whole thing worries me, Jo. I’ve never worried about someone like this. Oh, man,” he said, pulling away and running his hands through his hair. “I’ve lost my objectivity. That’s never happened to me before. Why does it have to be with you?”

  Jo stood, rocking slightly on her unsteady legs, unsure whether to take his statement as a compliment or an insult. “Case, I…”

  “Our lives are complete opposites,” he said in a fierce tone. “Or they will be when you get all you want out of this story.”

  “Case, it’s not like you think it is…” she began, but he cut her off once again.

  “You’ve got to do whatever is necessary to stay safe in your dealings with Purdy, and I’ve got to make sure that you’re safe and that we’re able to put him away to protect people like Freida and Charlotte from him. That’s my obligation. That’s all I have to do.” He headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, stalking out.

  “But I…” Her hands fell helplessly to her sides and she muttered a very unladylike word under her breath. He was an impossible man, thinking that there could be no future for them because they were pursuing different things, different life-styles.

  A future? Slowly, Jo locked the door and started for her bedroom. When had she begun thinking in those terms? She’d certainly lost her objectivity, but it had nothing to do with Harold Purdy.

  Jo reached up and covered her eyes with her fingertips. She might as well stop fooling herself and admit she was in love with Case, even though she barely knew him. She knew the important things about him.

  He wasn’t going to try to coax her into bed purely for sexual gratification, even if her tingling body told her it would, indeed, be very gratifying. Case wasn’t going to make her any promises he couldn’t keep.

  She also knew that she wasn’t going to be able to convince him that her idea of a fast-track career wasn’t the same as what his had been. Her only hope was that somehow she would get the opportunity to show him.

  9

  IN THIS TOWN of oddballs and their kooky ideas, Starina Simms might just win the award for the most whimsical invention, Case decided. He and Jo stood side by side in Starina’s workshop and stared in awe at her perpetual-motion machine.

  Along the back wall marched a row of stainless-steel cylinders that resembled oxygen tanks. From each one, long, plastic tubes extended upward to a central tube where they all emptied various colored liquids into a huge vat. To this was attached a dizzying array of geared wheels, gearboxes, switches, levers, and overflow tanks.

  “Wow, Starina,” Jo said in a hushed tone. “You’ve really expanded it since the last time I saw it. It looks marvelous.”

  Case gave her a baffled glance. She sounded as if this thing looked normal. He was no mechanic, but even he could tell that this Rube Goldberg contraption was all form and no substance.

  He wondered which of those flowing liquids was flammable—or if they all were.

  “Not only expanded it, but perfected it.” Starina, dressed once again in her coveralls and sporting tools in every pocket, lifted her hand and held her thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. “I’m this close to applying for a patent. The patent office demands a working model, and when I’ve got this one right, I’ll just make a scale model and send it in, along with the instructions.”

  “Uh, Ms. Simms, you do realize
that only about one percent of patents are ever actually awarded?” Case cautioned.

  She resembled a perky little white-haired bird as she looked up at him. “I know.”

  “And that no one’s ever made a successful perpetual motion machine.”

  “Until now,” she said proudly. From her back pocket, she pulled a rag and began polishing the spotless surfaces of the smaller metal tanks.

  “They’ve failed because the parts wear out…”

  “Due to inferior lubricants,” she answered blithely. She pointed to the tubes of liquid. “As you can see, I’ve invented my own lubricant as well.”

  “Well, what about…?”

  “Case,” Jo said, laying her hand on his arm. “Starina knows all that. She’s heard it from her colleagues a million times.”

  He blinked at her. “Colleagues?”

  “Starina holds doctorates from M.I.T. in both mechanical and electrical engineering,” Jo said, smiling proudly at her friend. “And she was an engineer at an aerospace firm before she came here.”

  He looked at the sprightly little woman, who was returning Jo’s grin. “But the people I worked with were so closed off to my ideas, I left the engineering world and came here as soon as I heard about Calamity Falls. I belong here,” she concluded happily.

  “Well, I’ll be…speechless,” he said. There was obviously more to these quaint people than he’d thought.

  Jo smiled as if she understood exactly what he was thinking and turned to Starina. “We’re interested in hearing more about Professor Purdy. What have you heard going on over there besides the sound of ripping wood?”

  “That’s all, and I don’t know what he’s tearing apart with my crowbar, but I can guarantee you that the owner of that house, Rick Morales, isn’t going to be happy about it. Rick doesn’t do much to fix the place up, but he doesn’t want anyone else to either for fear he’ll have to pay for it.”