They breakfasted at a little café downtown, a classic old-fashioned restaurant with vintage fixtures. Cecily nibbled sausage patties and whole-wheat toast, watching with awe as Daniel ate a full meal with two eggs, over easy, hash browns, bacon, and biscuits and gravy. He ate with apparent relish and since he’d come clean with Cecily, she thought she saw a new ease in his movements. His shoulders relaxed in a natural pose and some of the tautness she’d noticed in him was absent for the moment. They’d driven their separate vehicles so she could open the store on time and he could check out of his crappy motel.
“Are you coming to Pink Neon after you dump your stuff at the house?” she asked.
Daniel shrugged and mopped up the last of his egg yolk with toast. “Do you want me to?”
The look he sent across the table turned her insides into mush and heated up her girl parts. “I like having you around,” she said.
“Then I’ll come, but I don’t want to drive off business. I doubt I fit the profile for your average boutique customer.”
“You don’t,” she said with blunt honesty. “But you make nice eye candy.”
Pink flushed his face despite his complexion and he grinned. “Do I?” He sounded pleased.
“Yeah,” she said. “You do, but I’ve got dibs on you so all they can do is look.”
“Look but not touch?”
She smiled back and her foot shifted under the table to stroke his leg. “That’s right, sugar. You understand.”
When they parted, he kissed her long and deep as if he headed far away. Cecily liked it, tasting the lingering flavor of coffee on his breath, and she held onto him a few more moments. People passing on the sidewalk paused to look but most smiled. She waved as she got into her GTO. “Don’t make me call you, you hear!”
“I’ll be there, querida.”
In the driver’s seat, she fired the engine and kicked up the sound on the stereo. Cecily backed out as the Pointer Sisters began to sing and just for Daniel, she sang along. Then she made her way through the morning traffic to Pink Neon. She parked farthest from the front entrance to leave the prime parking open for customers and unlocked the door. Once inside, she glanced around to make sure everything remained in order. A few things were jumbled so she put them in place and turned the window placard around at the stroke of eight.
Cecily stared out the window and reflected. Everything shifted from her pre-opening jitters. She’d opened Saturday as a single woman trying to make a new path but on Monday morning, she walked in here with a lover, a man she craved like chocolate and wanted to keep. His revelations might’ve sunk their new relationship but instead, once she accepted what he said as truth and understood, it somehow strengthened it. She’d known him for two days, almost to the hour and yet Cecily believed she knew him down to his bones.
I don’t know where we’re going from here, but I’m ready to take the ride.
When the shop bell chimed, she glanced up and smiled at her first customer of the day. “Hi,” she said. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
“Oh, I just want to look around. My sister-in-law said you had some nice things,” the woman said. “I collect angels.”
“I’ve got some lovely ones, over this way,” Cecily said and her day began.
Although she lacked as many customers as she’d had on Saturday, business stayed steady. She sold two angels to the lady who collected them, a boxed tea set and pot imported from England to an older gentleman, Victorian styled greeting cards to a woman dressed for the golf course, and potpourri to a twenty-something blonde dressed in a long calico dress complete with sunbonnet. Two sisters from Iowa bought a pair of the funky hats, and a man who told her he’d just retired purchased two of the coffee mugs.
During a mid-morning lull, Cecily pulled out her laptop from underneath the counter and booted it up. She checked emails for her brand new address and answered one from Nia. On impulse, she dialed Daniel’s number, but he didn’t pick up the call. She hung up when forwarded to voice mail. They’d exchanged numbers over breakfast. Curious, Cecily typed in his name into her favorite search engine and came up with a few mentions of her lover. Among other things, he’d been awarded the Medal for Meritorious Service for saving a man’s life after a mugging near one of the Kansas City area casinos and an FBI Star for being injured in the line of duty.
Then she gave into temptation and looked up the details of Willard’s death. Within minutes, Cecily wished she hadn’t. The lurid image of his body lying on the front steps of the mansion she’d called home disturbed her and the spreading dark pool beneath him made her sick. She skimmed several print reports and watched a WGN online news story. Scenes of the house, of her ex-husband’s ransacked study and open safe, upset her more. When she read there were no suspects named but ‘Bradford’s former spouse remains a person of interest’, Cecily shivered and her breakfast soured in her stomach. The son of a bitch is gonna get me from beyond the grave if I don’t watch out. I’m glad Daniel’s on my side ‘cause otherwise I’m starting to get the feeling the law wants to screw me.
In an effort to shake off her unpleasant feelings, she tried Daniel again, but he didn’t answer. Cecily dialed Nia, even though she’d be at work at the salon, and her cousin answered.
“Hey, what’s up, girl?”
“Second day of business at Pink Neon,” Cecily said with a light bravado she didn’t feel. “I thought I’d just touch base and see how things are going up in Chi town.”
“Things are going,” Nia replied. “Hang on a second, let me put my customer under the dryer and then we’ll talk a minute.”
Cecily waited and then Nia said, breathless, “Hey, you alone?”
“Yeah, I am right now. Why?”
“You may be in a deep load of shit, honey.”
Her stomach rolled. “Over Willard?”
“That’s right. How’d you know?”
“It wasn’t a lucky guess,” Cecily said. “Let’s just say I heard I’m named a person of interest.”
“Yeah, you are. Maybe you need a lawyer.”
“Maybe but I think it’d just make me look guilty. I’m not.”
“Shit, you don’t need to tell me. I know you’re not. If you’ve been in a mood to kill him, he’d have died years ago,” Nia said. “I gotta go, but watch your back. How’s your man?”
A little of her earlier buoyant mood returned. “He’s fucking awesome.”
“Good. Well, you hang onto him if he’s that good, you hear? And keep me posted, okay?”
“‘Kay.”
Customers trailed in at an increasing pace as the morning headed toward noon. Three hours after she opened, Cecily hadn’t heard from Daniel and she alternated between worry and irritation. Just after she sold an Asian painted parasol and a feather boa to a sassy redhead, Cecily’s cell rang and she answered it. “Hello!”
“It’s me.” She’d have known who it was without the caller ID.
“I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I got tied up on the phone.” His voice lacked the light tone he’d used at breakfast and she sighed. “Was it work-related?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way over. I’ll fill you in later, when we’re alone. My stuff’s at your place. Everything going all right at the store?”
“It’s good,” she said and added, “I miss you.”
“Really?” His voice became brighter. “First time anyone’s missed me in years. I’ll see you in a few.”
Daniel ended the call before she could say anything else. Distracted, she waited on customers and kept one eye on the traffic, watching for a black Ford sedan. Fifteen minutes later, Daniel parked outside the door and strode in. She adored the way he moved, but she didn’t like the frown on his face or the wrinkle across his forehead. Since no customers were present, Cecily met him and he opened his arms wide. She stepped into their circle and he hugged her.
I’ve got it bad, real bad. I feel safe just ‘cause he showe
d up and his body against mine gets me hot. He smells fine, too and I want him.
“You look like something’s wrong,” she said after he kissed her hard enough to make her breathless for more than a minute.
“The situation is under control,” he said, cryptic but serious as a foreclosure. “We’ll talk about it tonight, querida, but not now. You’ve got customers on the way inside.”
Four women climbed out of an SUV and headed for the entrance with purpose. As they came inside, two more cars pulled into the lot. Daniel retreated behind the counter and without asking permission, he opened her laptop and turned it back on. When Cecily snuck a glance or two, she noticed he read the Kansas City newspaper. Maybe I don’t have any reason to worry, none at all.
But her intuition screamed like a fire alarm or a banshee.
Chapter Nine
At the café, Daniel turned his damn phone on so he could put Cecily’s number in the memory and like an idiot, he didn’t turn it back off. His idea had been to make it possible for her to call him but instead, he fielded a call from his supervisor before he made it to the Strip. He almost didn’t answer it, but he wasn’t quite ready to flush a decade with the FBI down the toilet.
“Padilla.”
“You’re a hard man to find these days.” Special Agent in Charge Martin’s voice remained level, making it hard to determine if he was pissed or professional.
“Cell service is spotty here,” Daniel said. “Modern technology can’t always get through these hills. What’s up?”
“I think it’s time to bring her in and talk.”
The words he’d feared to hear evoked a desire to curse and shout but Daniel did neither. In as calm a tone as he could muster, he said, “You’re the boss. I was on my way over to her shop right now. Do you want me to scratch that and bring her in?”
“I like the way you think,” Drew Martin said with a chuckle. “Go ahead, scope her out, and then call me back. By then I’ll have something set up with the satellite office at Springfield. And, Padilla?”
“Yeah?”
“Try to stay clear of mountains so I can get through when I call.”
“I’ll do my best,” Daniel said, inwardly fuming. “But be advised, the place is surrounded with them.”
“I understand. Let me know how it goes later.”
“Will do.” He repressed an urge to toss the phone out onto the roadway and headed to the cheap shit motel. It didn’t take long to pack his things, dump his empty bottles into the trash can outside, and check out. Feeling more capable to find his way through the tourist town, Daniel headed for Cecily’s house. He used the key she gave him and put his stuff in the corner of the living room for now.
Although it wasn’t noon yet, he craved a drink, needed it in a way he hadn’t for more than forty-eight hours. Daniel rooted out a bottle of tequila and didn’t bother with a glass. He swigged a long drag out of the bottle, shuddering as the booze burned its way down. He almost repeated but didn’t. Cecily would be wondering where in hell he’d wandered and he needed to stay sober enough to think. He needed a strategy, some plan to keep Cecily out of trouble and his job off the line. And he’d realized something else, something with even more potential danger. Whoever killed Bradford knew Cecily didn’t and if it became apparent she might realize who had motive and did the job, they’d kill her too without remorse. The stakes notched higher and he longed for more booze to dull his increasing anxiety. With regret, Daniel closed the bottle and put it away, then turned off the phone so no calls could come in until he had time to ponder the situation. Then he sat, head in his hands for a long time.
He considered actions and weighed options. After years as a loner making decisions to affect someone else proved difficult, all the more so when he cared so much. Daniel sat, tempted to erase all his anxieties with more tequila, and then, after some heavy thought and a little prayer, he phoned the only other person he trusted. And he used the pay-as-you-go phone he used for emergencies, not his work cell.
Thirty minutes later, Daniel headed for Pink Neon. On the way, he called Cecily from his own phone. He needed to hear her voice and he hated what he would have to tell her. He didn’t think she’d like it at all and he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t like it either.
Her perception amazed and pleased him. She knew from the second he walked through the door something was up and asked.
“I’ve got the situation under control,” he said, ashamed, a little, of the blatant lie because he didn’t. All he could do was handle it the best way possible and so far, his best wasn’t anywhere good enough. They needed to talk but not in the presence of customers. Color him paranoid but Daniel didn’t trust the FBI not to send someone else to trail Cecily, not if Martin picked up on the slightest hint he wasn’t sold on Cecily’s guilt. If his boss caught a whiff of anything but his way and by-the-book, he’d send another agent, probably one Daniel wouldn’t know. I’ve worked under him for the last eight years. I know how he thinks and how he acts.
A rush of new customers distracted Cecily so he picked up her laptop and surfed. Daniel knew she watched so he skimmed The Kansas City Star, but once his lady headed out to assist one of her customers with picking out a figurine, he switched pages. First he checked the Chicago papers for any updates about Willard Bradford VI but found none. Then he did a little digging on the Springfield satellite office to familiarize himself with the staff. When business slacked down around one in the afternoon, Daniel glanced up to find Cecily watching him with a frown. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “I can go bring something back for lunch if you tell me what sounds good?”
“I’m not interested in food right now,” she said. “Daniel, tell me what’s going on.”
He shook his head. “No, chica, it’s not the place or time. I’ll tell you this evening, I promise.”
Cecily sniffed. “Sounds like you want to break it to me gently.”
“Something along those lines,” he said. “You might need to plan on closing the store for tomorrow, too.”
The frown went viral and she glared at him. “I don’t want to close Pink Neon! Why?”
“We may need to take a little trip up to Springfield.”
“For what?”
If he told her now, she would freak out so Daniel didn’t. “Later, Cecily. You need to eat—would you like a sandwich or a salad or what?”
Lips in full pout, she shook her head. “I don’t care. Just bring me something.”
So he plunged out into the afternoon traffic, dodging between the mini vans packed with tourist families and the little old ladies piloting their huge vintage cars through the lanes. Daniel wanted a drink more than he did a meal, but he squelched the desire and pulled into a strip mall with a sub shop he’d noticed. He ordered two Italian hoagies on wheat bread with everything and picked up two bottles of iced tea. Then he made his way back to Pink Neon and Cecily.
Daniel found her deep in conversation over handbags when he returned so he slipped behind the counter and sat in a chair. Ten minutes later, she rang up a sale and thanked her customer. After the door closed behind her, Cecily turned to him with a smile warm enough to melt ice cream on a winter morning. “Hey,” she said. “I was kinda bitchy earlier and I’m sorry, sugar. I guess I’m a little on edge.”
He came to his feet and opened his arms. “You have plenty of reason. C’mere.”
Without hesitation Cecily came and he folded her into an embrace. Although he couldn’t touch her without evoking some measure of desire, the hug meant something more. It reminded Daniel of the way he felt at communion a long time ago, back when he still went to Mass, back when he still believed in the power of good over evil. A potent mixture of love, faith, and hope cocooned him and he savored the moment. Her body radiated tension, but as she rested against him in the shelter of his arms, he felt some of it ebb away. Daniel lifted her chin and kissed her mouth, slow and sweet. “Let’s eat,” he said after the short smooch.
Her fingers stroked his fa
ce, light as a breath. “You’re too damn nice to me,” she said but without heat or complaint. “Thanks for bringing something to eat. I was getting hungry.”
“De nada,” Daniel said. “Don’t you have a table where we can sit or something?”
“Uh-uh, sugar,” Cecily said. “I didn’t know I’d be having any guests or I would’ve.”
“Do you even have another chair?”
“There’s one in back, in the storeroom,” she told him with a smile.
He fetched it from the tiny space and said, “Here, sit down and eat before someone else comes into the store.”
Cecily rewarded him with a dazzling smile. “Okay, thanks, I will.”
Daniel joined her behind the counter, unwrapped his sandwich, and watched her eat. They made small talk during the simple lunch and afterward, between customers, he asked her, trying to make the question seem casual. “Do you have a passport?”
Confusion crossed her face like a shadow. Frowning, she nodded. “I do. Dontcha know every rich bitch in Chicago has one? I had to so I could accompany my dearly departed ex-husband on trips out of the country. Why?”
He shrugged. “I just wondered.”
She didn’t buy it. “Daniel?” she questioned, tone sharper than a razor blade.
Unwilling to bleed and aware she wouldn’t let it go now, he said, “Okay, I just wondered in case you ever needed to go out of the country for a day or two.”
Comprehension widened her eyes. “Jesus, sugar,” she said. “I don’t think I like the sound of that. You going to tell me what’s up or not?”
“I will, this evening,” he said. “I promise.”
A sigh emerged from deep within. “All right, I guess.”
After finishing the last bite of sandwich and taking a long swig of tea, Cecily wrapped up her trash and deposited it in the can. She moved two steps over to stand close to Daniel and ran one hand up his arm, fingers diving under his short sleeve. “Are you staying?”
Pink Neon Dreams Page 9
