by Rozsa Gaston
Apparently he'd been in her target range for a brief few seconds that evening. She would move on in another few. He breathed a sigh of relief at having gotten her off the phone so quickly. Why was it that the only way he'd found out anything about women was to get knocked around by one? About to turn back to Hint, the sound of a nearby male voice jolted him.
****
"Hey, is that steak I smell?" a man called over the fence.
"Ugh. My building super." Hint made a face before turning to greet the caller.
"Again? He's pretty ubiquitous, isn't he?" Jack remarked, moving to block the gate in the low fence that separated the patio from the driveway. On the other side, the tall, well-built figure of Brian O'Connell appeared, squeezed into a tight white tee shirt.
He ignored Jack and addressed Hint directly. "Find the dog yet?"
"No. Not yet." She tried not to grimace.
"Taking a break, huh?" the super asked, leaning on the fence in a way that made the bicep ripple on his right arm.
"We're eating dinner." Would he get the message that this wasn't a good time to visit? Along with any other time, except when she needed a repair.
"Thought I'd pick up some more flyers to post around," Brian said.
"I'll print some more for you and put them inside your screen door," she said curtly.
"Great. I can drop by and get them later, if it's easier for you." Brian was now giving Jack a cool stare. Some sort of male power play appeared to be taking place.
"No thanks. I'll drop them by your door tomorrow morning." Get out of here, you dolt, she thought, not for the first time.
"Hey, well, have a good time. I mean — have a nice dinner." He finally seemed to pick up on her signals to get lost.
"Thanks. Bye."
The muscle-bound superintendent swaggered as he walked away. She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Nice blocking," she said to Jack.
"I kind of guessed you didn't want him coming in the gate."
"He's the type of person who doesn't leave once you let him in," she explained.
"Finding a dog can mean bumping into some strays along the way," he replied, cocking an eyebrow at her.
Her laugh was strained as she turned back to the steaks. He had no idea what words of truth he'd just spoken about her life. Had that been a stray he'd been speaking with just now on the phone?
The steaks were done. Jack had asked for his medium rare, exactly the way she liked hers.
She transferred them to a platter and brought them to the table, where she served Jack then herself. Picking up her fork and knife, she was about to dig in.
"Want to say grace?" he asked.
"Sure. Will you do the honors?"
His request was a pleasant surprise. In some ways he showed finesse coupled with strength. He had deflected unwanted intruders such as Brian O'Connell, as well as whoever that had been on the phone. Why couldn't he be more graceful in tracking down a dog?
Before she could protest, he'd grasped her hand and closed his eyes. "We lift up our search. Give us inspiration and energy to find our friends' dog. Amen," he prayed.
She quickly served the salad. His hand had been warm and muscular around hers. Smooth, with no calluses, it felt like the hand of a writer.
Who had called him? And why did she care?
****
Dinner progressed quietly. He liked the way Hint didn't rush to fill up empty spaces in their conversation. Or was it because she was thinking about the phone call he'd just received? He hoped not.
The bones of her hand had felt so fine under his. She was no Amazon. More of a half-hidden forest creature. Someone from another world, finer than this one. Brushing the thought from his mind, he took a large bite.
"Mmm." He nodded his head. The steak was perfectly done: black on the outside, and juicy and rare on the inside.
"Good? I was afraid I'd burned them. We had a few distractions." She took a bite herself. "Mmm."
"You did a great job. It's really tender. If this doesn't bring back Percy, nothing will," he told her.
"I hope something will." Her face blanched.
"I was just joking. He'll come back. I bet we'll find him tonight." He hadn't meant to upset her.
"What's our plan?" She looked at him expectantly but with reserve, not jumping in to offer a fully executed plan for him to rubber-stamp as Annabel Sanford would have done.
Annabel hadn't actually cared what any of his plans had been. She'd just wanted him to go along with any and all of her own. It had never occurred to her to wait and see what he might come up with. After a time, he'd no longer even tried to make suggestions for their dates. That was when she'd accused him of attention deficit disorder.
Battlefield fatigue was more like it. He had tired of going along with her choices just to keep the peace. Although he'd heard many marriages operated on similar grounds, he vowed his never would. The only partnership he was interested in was one in which he was a full partner.
"Our plan is to find him before the trail grows stale," he said to Hint. "Can you come with me after we finish eating?"
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"What do you suggest?" He studied her face. Had there been a sadness there that went beyond looking for her friends' dog? "Is there anywhere you think he might have followed a scent to?
"Somewhere around Tom and Nicole's house," she said.
"Why don't we drive up to Scarsdale after dinner and see if he's made his way back to his own home?" he asked.
She nodded then took another bite. For the next few minutes they ate in silence. Finally, he put down his napkin and pushed back from the table.
"Are you thinking about lying on the beach in Punta Cana right now?" he asked.
"I was… uh… thinking about something else I was supposed to be doing in Punta Cana," she replied, her voice remote.
"Something better than lying on the beach watching the sun go down?" He watched her face carefully. Was there someone down in Punta Cana she'd been going to meet? "Hey, I didn't get in the way of you meeting someone special on a tropical island, did I?"
Her face became even more enigmatic. Clouds chased sunlight, as if she were fighting with herself. Finally, stoic calmness replaced regret as she faced him.
"I… uh… had a business meeting I had to cancel, but it's more important that we find Percy."
"Do you think you could catch a flight tomorrow if he shows up?" He would give anything to wipe that look of sadness off her face.
"I could," she said calmly. "But I'm not counting on that happening. I'm thinking about finding Percy."
"Okay, let's drive up to Tom and Nicole's place and scope out the area." He was impressed by her resolve. "Are there any favorite spots they take him to nearby?"
"There's a park near their house," she told him.
"Let's go there after we check the house."
"We might need some flashlights. I'll go upstairs and get some," she said.
"Let me help," he offered, rising and scooping up her plate before she could protest.
Within ten minutes he was behind the wheel with Hint next to him, the floral scent of her hair filling the car, and they were on their way up the Bronx River Parkway to Scarsdale.
Chapter Four
The sun had set, and an enormous full moon was emerging on the horizon by the time they turned off the parkway to Scarsdale. A sign advertising a Midsummer's Eve party at Heathcote Tavern that evening stood prominently to one side of the exit.
"Is it the summer solstice tonight?" Hint asked.
"I'm not sure," Jack answered, not trusting himself with dates after Monday evening's near-fiasco. Mixing up Percy's pickup date had been almost as lame as dropping the dog's leash.
"What's the date today?"
He checked the date on his watch to make sure. "It's the twenty-first."
"That's it, the longest day of the year," she said, peering up at the sky. The column of her neck arched like a swan, gleami
ng pale and white in the moon's glow.
He pulled into Tom and Nicole's driveway and parked directly behind a large, tarp-covered object. Jack recognized the outlines of Tom's vintage motorcycle. He chuckled, thinking of the times he'd watched Tom impress a girl by pulling up to whatever meeting spot they'd chosen on the classic British motorbike. But once he'd married, Nicole had persuaded Tom it was too dangerous to continue driving it. The danger that had been part of his charm for her as a single man no longer charmed her as his wife. Jack had seen a similar transformation in values happen to his sister and her husband, after Marguerite had been born.
Tom had refused to sell the bike, preferring to keep it parked permanently in his driveway, a swansong to his single days.
"Wow. I'd forgotten about Tom's bike. It's usually hidden behind Nicole's car when I come over. Maybe Percy slept under that cover last night," he remarked wistfully.
He watched as Hint ran her fingers over the black leather seat, the retro handlebars. Then she squatted to inspect the lacquered engine covers. The motorcycle's design was both stylish and powerful. No wonder Tom hadn't wanted to relinquish it. He sighed. Wasn't this like looking at a three-hundred-pound tiger behind bars at the zoo? What was the point of owning a vehicle of such beauty and power only to keep it under a tarp in one's driveway?
"It's so… so…" She appeared to be at a loss for words.
"Sexy?" He hadn't meant to use that adjective.
"Huh…" A sound like a laugh mixed with a sigh escaped her.
"Let me ask you something," he teased, a mischievous idea springing to mind.
"What's that?" Her slim index finger slid across the top tube of the double layer of chrome silencers running along each side.
"If you were married, would you let your husband drive this bike?" he asked.
"Only with me behind him," she shot back.
"And if you were married with kids?"
"He wouldn't have time to ride a bike." Her eyes sparked as she teased him back.
"I see. So what do you think Tom does with this bike?" he asked.
"I know what he does, because Nicole told me his driving days are over. He keeps it here in his driveway and feels good every time he walks by it."
Jack was puzzled. "Don't you think he's more likely a bit frustrated not to ride it anymore?"
"Not really." She looked thoughtful. "I think he feels happy to remember all the good times he had on this bike and to know he's got a wife who cares about him enough not to let him have an accident on it."
"Hmmm." Jack digested her words. "Do you think he ever sits on it, just to remember how it felt?"
"Sure I do." Standing, she lithely swung a jeans-clad leg over the seat. Grasping the handlebars, she turned to him, eyes flashing.
"I think he sits on it, and I think Nicole also sits on it sometimes just to remember how Tom made her feel when she rode with him."
Her smile was feline, portentous. Then her face withdrew into shadows, and he couldn't say for sure if he'd seen such an expression or just imagined it.
"That's good to know. I like Nicole better just hearing you say that, and I already liked her a lot."
He wanted to hoist himself on the bike behind her, circle her small waist with his hands and lean his face into her hair. The thought of it made his blood race.
But it would destroy the harmony of their dog-hunting partnership. She would bolt, just as Percy had. If he turned pursuer, she'd feel harried and wouldn't be able to focus on finding the schnoodle. Quickly, he walked back to the car.
"I'll get the flashlights. Do we need anything else?" he called.
"You might as well bring the drinks," she answered. "We'll be out here a while."
****
Gazing at the large, perfectly round moon low in the sky, Hint got off the bike. It had felt good. She loved how sleek and beautiful the machine was. But a motorcycle was a dangerous thing. Years earlier, she'd spent time on the back of one with a summer boyfriend whose silky, blonde ponytail had hung slightly below his shoulders. Jeff hadn't been a keeper, but then she hadn't been playing for keeps back then, either.
Two months into their relationship, his best friend had been killed in a motorcycle accident. She hadn't been able to get back on the bike after that. It had taken less than a month more of dating to figure out they hadn't had anything in common other than a love of riding the bike together, so she'd broken it off.
Staring at the huge bright orb low in the sky, she willed it to keep her secrets. In a minute Jack came up behind her, flashlights and drinks in hand.
"The moon will help us find him. We'll have light to hunt by, and he won't be sleepy with this kind of energy shining down on him," she remarked.
"He's probably somewhere in the vicinity of his home right now," Jack replied.
"I wish I thought so."
"Let's circle the property," he suggested. "I'll go around back if you take the front. Good?"
"Sure." She moved down the driveway to Tom and Nicole's front sidewalk. A faint sound of flamenco music came from the other side of the street. The Midsummer's Eve party they'd seen advertised appeared to be revving up.
"Percy, where are you?" She quickened her step, her hips swaying ever so slightly to the wild percussive beat. "Come to me, boy. Come." She spoke slowly and deliberately, intending to hypnotize the dog into returning to her.
As she strolled up the front walk to the house, her eyes fell on the loveseat on Tom and Nicole's porch. It was one of Percy's favorite perches in the summer months. He'd surely come bounding out to join her if he was anywhere nearby.
She lowered herself into the loveseat, enjoying its deep cushions. Was the music getting louder? She could imagine a sultry Spanish dancer tapping her feet with mathematical precision while the feelings she inspired in her partner were anything but mathematical. Were passion and precision mirror images of the same human urge?
The bushes rustled.
"Percy?" she called.
"It's me." Jack's shadow appeared on the front walk before he did, the moon lighting him from behind. His broad shoulders formed a perfect 'L' from neck to shoulders. Would a man with such square shoulders appreciate flamenco music?
"See anything?" she asked.
"Not much. But I hear some great music. Someone having a party?" The muscles of his thigh flexed to the percussive handclapping of the flamenco beat.
"Sounds like it." Her shoulders moved back and forth, ever so slightly. "As much as it's drawing us, the music might keep him away. He'd be suspicious of the noise."
"And all the people."
"Strangers. Guests whose smells he doesn't recognize." She straightened, willing her shoulders to behave. "Let's go. He's not coming back here while that party's going on."
"What about the park you mentioned?"
She nodded. She'd never been there at night, but in Jack's company, and with the light of the moon to see by, she wasn't afraid.
Five minutes later, they were at Fox Meadow Park in Scarsdale. When she stepped out of the car, the flamenco music still tapped through her head, as a cool, night breeze danced around her. She picked her way along the path, mindful of her footing in the moonlight.
"Watch out for roots," Jack warned behind her.
A chord from Hint's childhood vibrated in her belly when she heard his pronunciation. He'd said "ruts."
"Spoken like a true New Englander," she commented.
"I'm the seventh generation of them, beginning with my ancestor who sailed from England to Stamford, Connecticut."
"But you're a New Yorker now."
"Westchester County borders New England. I'm close enough." He called for Percy, for once keeping his voice low and non-threatening.
"It's different though, isn't it? I mean New England and New York cultures."
"You can say that again." He laughed. "One's right in your face, and the other turns the other cheek — to not see anything unpleasant — even when it's in your own family."
&
nbsp; "I wonder which is better," she mused, focusing on a copse of willow trees up ahead. They looked like ancient wise women with long silvery hair.
"Maybe New England civility combined with New York energy," Jack said.
"You nailed it." She liked New England civility, but tonight New York energy ran through her veins. A breeze stirred the trees. The silvery boughs of the willows shimmied in the moonlight, alerting her to something. What?
"Percy — are you there?" She ran ahead of Jack, both to look for the dog and to put some space between them. Midsummer night magic was making her nerve endings dance with possibility. As she fought a strong urge to kick off her shoes and lie down in the fragrant grass beneath the willow trees, her senses came alive in the soft night breeze. The wind caressed her arms and ruffled her hair as she moved.
After a moment, a brook appeared, murmuring in the moonlight. She felt her way carefully down to its edge then dipped her hand into the cold, stinging water. She splashed some on her face and sat on a nearby large rock, humming for Percy and waiting for Jack.
****
Treading softly behind Hint, Jack sensed something afire in her. He'd swear it wasn't just her zeal to find the dog.
All he could think of was pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. It was insane. He tried to retrain his thoughts on finding the dog. How much time could he spend focusing on a schnoodle anyway? Especially when the woman next to him had hair that smelled like stargazer lilies. With her around, pretty soon he'd be gazing at stars he'd never noticed before.
"Ouch." His face plowed into a small branch. Wiping his forehead with his grandfather's cloth handkerchief, he cursed. It was time to get his priorities straight.
Within a minute a brook came into view. Burbling and humming, it sounded a lot like a woman's voice.
Jack froze. It was a woman's voice. Hint was singing or humming. Was she trying to lure the dog to her the way those mermaids in the ancient epic he'd read in ninth grade English class had lured sailors to their death? That had been some story to fuel the imaginations of fourteen-year-old boys.
