Danny's complexion warmed to a rosy pink. He cleared his throat. "I guess. Movies. I like movies. Indiana Jones, The Mummy, action and adventure stuff."
"The classics. How about Inception and Mission Impossible?"
"Not a huge fan of Tom Cruise, but Matt Damon . . . "
"Hot, right?"
And they were off. They spent the next half-hour talking about movies and ended up sounding more like two old friends than possible hook ups.
Around eleven, Phillip glanced at his watch and threw some money on the bar. "I have to get going. This has been fun."
Danny looked panicked. "Yeah, I had a great time. Do you have to leave now? It's still early."
"Not for me. Early audition." He slid off the stool and cupped Danny's shoulder. "We should hang out again some time."
Yes!
Danny fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here. Call me. Or I could call you."
"Sure." Phillip put the card into his back pocket then asked the bartender for a pen. He grabbed Danny's hand, wrote on his palm, like a girl in junior high, and left.
Caleigh sighed loudly. "I bet he'll never wash that hand again."
* * *
After Philip left, I avoided eye contact with Danny and drove him home in silence. I wasn't sure if he was still pissed at my deception or embarrassed at having successfully gotten a guy's number, but either way he wasn't in a speaking-to-me mood. I figured it was best to let him have his space, filling the ride with the radio instead. As soon as I dropped him at his building, I texted Aiden.
I'm free now. Meet at my place?
Two minutes later a response lit up my screen.
Be there in 20 min.
Which gave me just long enough to get home and freshen up. I pulled into traffic and made it back to my apartment in record time. I chilled a bottle of wine, threw on a little mood music, and changed from the industrial Spanx that had held my Glock in place to a pair of lacy itty-bitty bikini panties, and dabbed on a little perfume. I was just reapplying my lipstick when I heard Aiden's shave-and-a-hair-cut knock at the front door, sending a little shiver of anticipation up my spine.
I opened the door and immediately felt glad I'd gone with the itty-bitties. Aiden was dressed in a pair of slacks, a button-down shirt, open at the collar, and he held one red rose in his hands. It took all I had not to jump him right there in my doorway.
"Hey," I said.
He grinned. "Hey yourself, beautiful."
"The rose is a nice touch," I said, gesturing to the flower.
Aiden shrugged. "It never hurts to arrive with a little romance in hand."
I took it from him, and he leaned in, giving me a light kiss on the cheek. He smelled like soap and aftershave. I inhaled deeply. Oh, this was going to be a good night.
"Nice music," Aiden commented as he came into the room. "Nora Jones?"
"Uh-huh," I answered. "I figure it never hurts to have a little romance in the air." I gave him a wink.
Aiden laughed, a deep, rich thing. Then he lightly grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. "I guess we're on the same page, then."
I swallowed, my heart hammering in my chest. "I think so," I said, my voice coming out way more breathless than I'd meant it to.
Though it didn't seem to faze Aiden. He just gave me one of his lady-killer smiles, all big blue eyes and genuine affection, then leaned in, his lips softly covering mine.
I think I sighed, my knees giving out just a little as his arms wound around my middle. I wrapped my own around his neck, my hands going to his hair. It was soft and a little wet from the shower still. I held onto it for dear life as Aiden kissed me. I was instant putty. His lips were warm and insistent, kissing me like he meant it. I don't know how long we got lost in each other like that, but when we came up for air, Aiden's hair was a wreck and I was panting like a cat in heat.
His eyes cut to my bedroom, in a silent question.
I was just about to answer along the lines of, "Hell, yes," when my phone went off from my purse.
I froze, thought a few bad words, then quickly reached into my clutch and checked the readout. Private number. I hit the button to send it to voicemail. Let them leave a message.
"You need to take that?" Aiden asked. I was pleased to note that his voice sounded as breathless as mine had been a few minutes ago.
I shook my head. "I'm sure it's nothing. It can wait."
Aiden grinned, took a step toward me.
Then my phone rang again.
Sonofa-
"It's okay," Aiden chuckled. "Go ahead and see what they want. I can wait."
I shot him a grateful look before stabbing the on button. I swear to God if this was a telemarketer . . .
"What?" I barked.
"Jamie?" came a tentative voice. "Is this you? I don't know if I dialed the right number. I'm so frazzled, and they're staring at me as if I stole the Queen's jewels."
I glanced at the clock above my dining table. It was past midnight. "Who is this?"
"Oh, sorry, dear. This is Charley. Maya's mom?"
My pulse quickened. Why was she calling me so late? "Charley, what's wrong? Is Maya okay? Are you okay?"
"Yes, we're fine. Well, I guess she is. She's home. I . . . well, I need your help. I didn't want to call and worry her, and you're the only other person I thought of when they allowed me to use the phone."
A sinking feeling hit my stomach like a cement brick. "Charley, where are you?"
"I've been arrested."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I followed the young, pimply cop down the narrow corridor of cells, to the last one. Why did they always file prisoners in the last one first? It was as if they wanted to torture the person just a bit more by parading them in front of the cells, especially the innocent little old ladies.
Charley and Ruth were huddled on a bench and whispering. Charley looked up, saw me, and smiled. She rushed to the bars and grabbed my hands through them. "I knew you'd help."
"How could I not?" I glanced to Pimply. Or Hodkins, according to his name tag. "Thanks."
He nodded. "I can only give you ten minutes tops."
"I understand."
He nodded again and walked back up front to his desk. Visiting hours were long over, and I wasn't family or an attorney, but Pim . . . Hodkins snuck me in. It was partly due to his feeling bad when he locked me up a few months ago—in this exact cell, I might add—and partly because I shamelessly flirted.
"Are you going to bust us out?" Charley asked, eyes wide with excitement.
Did she think I hid a metal nail file in my shoe?
"Maya is talking with Ruth's neighbor, trying to get the charges dropped. What happened?"
Ruth dropped her head into her hands and moaned.
Charley squeezed my fingers. Her pained expression matched the cramp she was causing in my pinky. "I didn't want Maya involved."
"She has to be. She's your daughter, and when the courts let you out on bail, it's better if family's there."
"Very well. It's all a big misunderstanding anyway."
Ruth shook her head. "Are you crazy? We broke into their house. Just because I know the alarm code doesn't make it legal."
Charley and I both shushed her in unison. You never admitted guilt inside the police station.
Ruth lowered her voice until I could barely make out her words. "Well, it's true. I should've just left it alone, ignored it. I'd been doing that for months now anyway. Why did I have to listen to you and try to get proof?"
She folded her arms across her chest and turned her body toward the back wall, away from us, like a pouting child.
"What is she talking about?" I asked.
Charley rolled her eyes. "Ruth believes her husband, Frank, is cheating on her with her neighbor, Belle."
It all suddenly made sense. Charley's sudden interest in Maya's job, her boss, all the PI questions at lunch.
"Where's Abigail?" I asked.
"She chickened out at
the last minute."
Smart woman.
"So tell me, what happened?"
Ruth shot Charley a glare.
Charley hesitated. "You're not a lawyer, dear."
She was right. Anything they told me I'd be sworn to divulge. I couldn't do that to them. "Okay, then tell me why Ruth thinks Frank is cheating."
Charley glanced to her friend. When Ruth didn't respond in any way, Charley turned to me full on and talked at rapid speed. "Last month, Frank went over to Belle's to fix her toilet. The poor, delicate creature didn't know how to use a plunger. Can you believe that? She's been widowed for five years, and that was her first clogged john? I don't think so. Anyway, Frank was gone a little too long, and when he returned, he smelled of wine. I guess Belle insisted he share a nightcap with her. The following week it was a leak in her kitchen sink, then a bathtub that needed caulking, and her refrigerator went out. Could he help her with her meat? I mean, really?"
I bit my lower lip to refrain from giggling. Charley was an enthusiastic storyteller.
"Last night, Ruth went over to see what was really going on. She'd been mildly suspicious at this point."
"Only because you and Abigail insisted he was cheating." Ruth's voice was tight and full of emotion. Poor woman. She obviously hadn't wanted to believe it until her friends stepped in and convinced her to stare at reality.
"A man can only hold out for so long. And we were right, no?" Charley cringed after her words. "I'm sorry. I don't need to be right. I'm just looking out for you."
Ruth glanced over, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Charley went to the bench, sat by her friend, and wrapped her arms around her. She leaned her chin on Ruth's shoulder and repeated, "It's going to be okay."
My chest tightened at the sincere exchange. These two were great friends. I didn't have anyone like that in my life. Danny was a true friend, sure, but it wasn't the same. Sam and Caleigh. I trusted them with my life, but not necessarily the details of my personal life. I never thought to turn to one of them for advice. They were my girls. But I hadn't confided in any of them about my current side case about who shot Derek.
After a moment, Ruth patted Charley's arm. Charley released her and rejoined me. "Last night Ruth went next door and heard them laughing and chatting through the open front door. They were seated on the living room couch, facing one another, a little too close. They were drinking, and Frank had his arm draped over the back of the sofa. Belle was running her fingers up and down his arm. Ruth knocked on the door and Frank jumped, spilling his wine. She tried entering, but the screen was locked. When they came to the door, Frank looked guilty. And Belle looked . . . "
"Gleeful," Ruth said.
I sighed. "Did you ask him?"
"Yes. He denied it."
"And tonight was about getting proof?"
Charley nodded. "What is Maya doing?"
"The police told us that Ruth's neighbor, Mrs. McGuffey, was pressing charges for breaking and entering. She went to talk with her, to get her to drop them."
"Belle will never agree to it," Ruth said. "She's thrilled I'm in here and Frank is home alone."
"What happens if Belle refuses?" Charley asked.
"You'll go to arraignment in the morning. You're lucky it's not the weekend. And the judge will probably release you on bail. You'll both need lawyers."
Ruth's shoulders began to tremble. Her cry was silent.
"It will be okay. You'll probably just get some probation. It's your first offense. Right?"
Charley nodded. "Yes, but I don't think she's as worried about jail time as she is about leaving Frank alone."
"So you did get proof?"
"No. The police arrived before we were able to."
"Isn't it possible he's not cheating?"
Charley gave me an "are you dumb" stare.
"Sometimes looks can be deceiving. Just because Belle sounds like a home-wrecking tramp doesn't mean Frank's taken her up on it. Some men just like their ego stroked, but they don't stray." Some. A few. I hid my skepticism. Ruth needed to be stroked too.
She stood on wobbly legs and walked over to us. "That's possible?"
"Anything is possible. Would you like me to look into it?"
Charley and Ruth looked to one another.
"You only had to ask. I would've helped you."
Charley faced me. "Thank you, dear, but this is something Ruth needed to do herself."
"I understand." Ruth seemed spent. Once the legal stuff was dealt with, she probably wanted to return to her life and forget about Belle and B&E charges.
The door opened, and Officer Hodkins walked toward me. My time was up. Then I noticed Maya behind him.
She sported a smile and hurried to my side. "Mrs. McGuffey agreed to drop the charges as long as neither of you step onto her property again."
The cop slid his key into the cell door.
"But . . . " Charley looked like someone poked her with a pin and let her air out. "What about proof?"
"Mom?" Maya pleaded.
Ruth shook her head. "No. I'm done. I just want to go home to Frank."
Officer Hodkins opened the cell door, and escorted the women out. "You'll need to sign paperwork and get your belongings at the front desk."
I winked my thanks and followed Charley, Ruth, and Maya. As much as Ruth wanted to go home and pretend, I had a feeling Charley would convince her otherwise. And this wasn't the end of it.
* * *
After a fitful nights' sleep, which was beginning to become the norm for me, I hit a drive-through Starbucks on the way to the office, my mind focused on a single task today: find out what Mayor Brumhill had been up to three years ago.
Maya was hanging up the phone as I entered. She looked up and gave a sleepy smile. "Hey boss. Thanks for last night. Or this morning. It was really nice of you to help her out."
She had no idea how nice. It had almost killed me to have to utter the words "rain check" to Aiden again, before shooing him out of my place. But if my mother had been in the same situation, I'm sure Maya would have dropped everything, too.
"How are things now?" I asked.
She puffed up her chest and let out a long breath. "I think Mom's done playing detective. Ruth definitely wants nothing to do with it anymore. I'll be surprised if she talks to Mom for the next couple of days."
"I'm glad it worked out, and if you need anything, just ask, okay?"
She nodded.
The conference room door opened, and Sam and Caleigh walked over to us. "Have you heard from Danny? Any dates with Phillip planned?" Sam asked.
"Not yet. I have something I need you girls to do for me first."
"Is everything alright?" The corners of Caleigh's mouth lowered.
"It will be."
I'd made the decision last night that as much as I wanted to keep my personal life private, I needed back-up on this case. If Maya could handle having her crazy mother call me in the middle of the night from prison, I could handle the girls knowing that my father's shooter might be alive, well, and possibly within our grasp to put behind bars. I quickly filled them in on the way Aiden had found the gun that shot Derek, and how I'd been looking into the case. I purposely left Derek's involvement vague. If it turned out that he really had been involved in something shady, the last thing I wanted was for them to be culpable. When I was done, Sam said, "What do you need us to do, boss?"
My heart swelled, as corny as that sounded. They hadn't questioned why I'd been keeping it a secret, hadn't been shocked or hurt. My girls rocked. "I need as much information as you can find on our ex-mayor. I also need to know who this is."
I held out a printed photo of the meth head. It was pixilated, but hopefully they could do something with it."
"On it," said Caleigh, grabbing the photo. "Got any more to go on? Like, where this was taken or by whom?"
I bit my lip. As much as I loved them.. no, because I loved them, the less they knew the better. "No. Just the photo."
<
br /> Caleigh nodded. "Okay, boss, I'll do my best."
"Don't worry," Sam said. "We'll find all the dirt."
* * *
I left the girls hard at work, flipped through my messages, answered a few emails from clients, then, once I'd waited an appropriate amount of time for the morning to drag by, made my way to Danny's. Predictably, he was still asleep when I arrived. He answered the door shirtless, wearing a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips. His hair mussed, his eyes heavy, features still soft with sleep. He looked vulnerable that way, and oddly enticing.
"Hey," he said, yawning as he held the door open. "Want coffee?"
"Always," I responded.
"Five minutes." Danny turned and shuffled to his kitchen.
I hung back in the living room, sitting on his mustard-colored sofa. Danny's idea of interior design meant one quality piece of furniture in each room, and camera equipment everywhere else.
"What's up?" Danny asked, coming back with two cups a few minutes later. "To what do I owe this early morning visit?"
"It's ten-thirty."
"I was up late."
"Doing?" I asked.
Danny grinned and opened his mouth to speak.
"Wait!" I held up a hand. "Strike that. I don't want to know." Despite my words, my gaze strayed to his bare torso, the waistband of his sweats, and what I now knew lay beneath.
"Relax. I was alone last night. I'm saving myself for you, Bond," he said with a playful wink.
I cleared my throat, feeling my cheeks heat despite his teasing tone. "Did Phillip call you yet?" I asked, sipping at my coffee to cover any inappropriate thoughts that might try to enter my brain.
He shook his head. "Nope. Not yet."
"Can you call him?"
"Now?" Did I detect a note of a whine in his voice?
"Come on, Danny, you can't get the dirt if you don't see him."
A nervous expression flitted across his features.
"You just need to connect with him one more time, and he'll probably hit on you." I wasn't sure that last part would propel him into action, so I decided to change the subject and play into his male ego.
Secret Bond (Jamie Bond Mysteries) Page 13
