The P.I. Contest

by C. J. Carmichael

  Well, maybe not that far from the truth. He wasn’t as bad at this job as she’d expected he would be. In fact, he was aggravatingly clever…getting that appointment with Rebecca before her, then tracking down Morgan just as quickly as she had.

  She turned her head slightly and studied his profile. He’d slipped on a pair of aviator sunglasses that only made him look more like the captain of a big airliner.

  “Driving a car must be boring compared to flying a plane.”

  “Not even comparable.”

  “Tell me about flying. How does it work?”

  “You really want to know?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. You need to understand two sets of related concepts. The first is drag and thrust. The second is gravity and lift.”

  “Drag and thrust, gravity and lift,” she repeated.

  He nodded. “When thrust—from the power of the engines and propellers—overcomes drag, or air resistance, the plane moves forward. When lift—from low pressure created on the top of the wing—overcomes gravity, the plane rises in the air.”

  “It’s that simple, huh?”

  “I can make it a lot more complicated if you like.” He grinned.

  “No thanks. You could talk about the concepts for an hour and flying would still seem like magic to me.”

  “You’re right about that. I’ve spent years learning the science behind aviation, but when you see the sun setting from six miles above the earth, well, it’s an experience you never forget.”

  “You’ll go back to flying one day,” she guessed.

  He nodded. “That’s the plan. When, or should I say if, Eric finishes high school.”

  “When will that be—another four years?”

  He nodded.

  “I know it will end us in stalemate, but I sure hope Jimmy turns out to be Hannah’s dad.”

  “No health issues with him,” Jay agreed. “Plus he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I don’t think I’d have reacted as agreeably if I suddenly found out I had a twenty-five-year-old kid.”

  “But then you don’t want to have children.”

  “That’s right,” he confirmed.

  She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “How can you be so certain?”

  “I don’t have kids right now and I’m happy with that. I think it’s more puzzling how you can be so sure you’ll want children when you don’t have any. As an only child, you never even had to babysit siblings.”

  “Maybe I didn’t have brothers or sisters, but I was a camp counselor in the summer. I worked with kids of all ages. And loved it.”

  “Really? See, I would hate a job like that.”

  “Maybe you’d surprise yourself.”

  “I doubt it.”

  She still wasn’t satisfied. “What if you fall in love with someone who wants a family? What will you do then?”

  “I’m thirty-three years old, I’ve dated a lot of women, and it hasn’t happened yet.” He smiled. “I think the women who want husbands and kids and picket fences spot me a mile away and go running.”

  “Sorry. I forgot. A different woman in every city. I hope you’re honest with them, at least.”

  His smile faded. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that if you’re not in an exclusive relationship with someone it’s important to be up-front about that.”

  He glanced at her, eyes narrowed. “Are we talking about me now? Or your ex?”

  Touché. She had been thinking of Conner.

  “So he cheated on you, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “Don’t tar me with that brush,” Jay said. “I don’t date more than one woman at a time. And I’m always extremely honest. I’m sorry the man that you were with wasn’t the same.”

  THE CAR WAS SO HOT, Jay could hardly breathe, but he wasn’t about to turn down the heat because Kate had finally stopped shivering.

  “I’m sorry for judging your lifestyle,” Kate said. “I’m just embarrassed it took me so long to catch on that my fiancé was a liar and a cheat.”

  “People always say that. But it’s human nature to trust the ones we love.”

  “Well, burned once, second time shy, right? I can really relate to that old saying now.”

  When he’d first met her, he’d found her cold, focused, all business. But he’d seen her tear up in front of the Morgans. She had a soft side, all right.

  “You feel like you won’t love again, ever. But, Kate, I can tell that you will.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly not convinced.

  “How else will you have that big family you want so much?”

  “There are ways.”

  Traffic was getting heavier now that he was nearing the city and he didn’t dare look too closely into her eyes. “You mean going to one of those clinics for donor sperm?”

  “That’s one option.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m thirty-two years old. If I want to have four children before I’m forty, and if I want to space them a few years apart, then I really don’t have much time.”

  “You’ve got this all planned out, don’t you?”

  She sighed. “Ever hear about the biological clock? Men don’t have to worry about that, but women are forced to be realistic.”

  “Fair enough.” He passed a lineup of three semitrailers, then switched back into the right-hand lane. “But there must be other options to artificial insemination.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well…” He hesitated. What were the other options? “Adoption?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Or—” A Lamborghini rushed by on his left with a speed that rocked the compact Subaru. “You could always ask a friend…”

  “You think?”

  “Why not?”

  “What if one of your female friends asked you for a favor like that? How would you react?”

  Something inside of him shriveled at the prospect. “I don’t know.”

  She saw right through him. “You’d say no.”

  “Probably,” he conceded.

  She gazed despondently out the window. “I think most guys would.”

  If they had any sense they would. But if they understood how much their friend wanted children, and if they were convinced she would make a good mother…

  Jay gave his head a thorough, mental shake. What the hell was he thinking? They weren’t talking about him here. This was some theoretical guy.

  Not that making love with Kate wasn’t a tempting proposition.

  FOR THE LAST HOUR of the trip, Kate napped and Jay tried to keep his thoughts focused on the sorts of things he ought to be concerned about—his driving, the case, what to do about Eric—and not on the things he shouldn’t be thinking about—the way Kate had cried at the Morgans’, the hurt look in her eyes whenever she spoke about her ex-fiancé, the way her face shone when she mentioned having babies.

  They were already in Manhattan when Kate woke up.

  “Sorry. I must have dozed.”

  “You obviously needed the rest. How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” she said as she reached into her bag for another lozenge.

  Yeah, right.

  Kate popped the lozenge in her mouth. “I was thinking we should take Jimmy’s DNA sample straight to the BioFinds Lab. We have about an hour before it closes. That way we’ll get the results even faster. Then we can return the rental car.”

  “Since you’re obviously not feeling well, why don’t I drop you home first? Then I can take the sample to the lab and return the car.”

  “Oh, sure. And technically you would have solved the case.”

  “I wouldn’t pull a stunt like that.”

  She looked at him closely. “No. I guess you wouldn’t. But I’ll be fine for another hour or so.”

  “If you insist.” He’d just been trying to be considerate. But he had to admit he didn’t mind having her company a little longer.

 
When he pulled up to the laboratory twenty minutes later, Kate suggested he drop her off outside the building and wait in the car.

  “We’ve come this far together, we might as well see it through.” He circled around to a parking space, then pulled off his sunglasses and smiled. “Not that I don’t trust you.”

  She had the good grace to look embarrassed.

  He was standing beside her when she handed over the sample and he watched as she wrote down The Fox & Fisher Detective Agency address on the form. By the time they were back in the car, he could tell her energy was lagging.

  This time when he suggested driving her home, she agreed.

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  The fact that she acquiesced so easily told him how badly she must be feeling. He followed her directions to an apartment not that far from his own, just a block off Riverside Park. He lucked into a parking spot in front of the three-story building.

  Kate seemed unsteady as she got out of the car, and he went around to the passenger side to help her.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, but when he put an arm around her waist, she didn’t resist.

  He stayed by her side until they were inside the walkup, in the first-level hallway next to a door numbered 104. As they unlocked the dead bolt—Kate locating the right key on the ring, then passing it to him—a thin, attractive woman in her forties passed by. She looked at Jay, then at Kate, and raised her eyebrows.

  Kate managed a faint smile. “Hi, Janet. This is Jay Savage. We’re working together.”

  “That’s nice.” Kate’s neighbor smiled, then continued on her way.

  “I don’t think she believed you.”

  “I think she’s just glad I’m not with Conner anymore. She’s the one who told me about the affair.”

  After opening the door, he passed her back the keys. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

  “Absolutely.” She tossed her coat and bag on the floor, and tried to kick off her boots. When she stumbled, Jay reached for her.

  “Man, you’re stubborn.” Keeping one arm around her, he used the other hand to pull off first one boot, then the other. “Why can’t you just admit you’re sick?”

  “I don’t believe in getting sick. I don’t have time for it.”

  Beyond her determined expression, he saw exhaustion—both physical and emotional. She’d been through a lot lately, first the breakup of her relationship, then quitting her job, and now this competition of theirs.

  “I think I had the same bug the week after Tracy died. If you feel anything like I did then, I can’t believe you’re still standing.”

  “I probably wouldn’t be if you weren’t holding me up,” she admitted.

  The color of her eyes was changeable, and now they seemed vividly green against her flushed cheeks.

  His first impression of her had been that she was tough and smart and formidable, but suddenly she seemed the opposite of all those things—vulnerable, sweet and defenseless.

  He put a hand to her forehead. Her skin was soft, but also hot. “You’ve got a fever.”

  She dropped her gaze. “I just need a good night’s sleep.”

  “That would be a start,” he agreed. “Which way to the bedroom?”

  “Hey…we haven’t even had our first date yet.”

  It was just a joke, but he was surprised at the instant stab of yearning he felt. “Very funny, Kate. You’re off men at the present, remember?”

  He glanced around, trying to figure out which way to go. There was a galley kitchen to the right—well used, judging from the open shelves displaying jars of pasta, flour and rice, and a collection of aged copper pots.

  In the other direction a short hall led past a charming living room, decorated in warm blues and golds with nothing breakable or fussy. It was the sort of home where he could imagine children growing up healthy, loved and well cared for.

  Not that it would be big enough for the four children Kate planned on having.

  With his arm still around her, he headed down the hall. The master bedroom was small, even by New York standards. Basically all that fit inside was a bureau and a queen-size bed.

  As soon as she saw it, Kate toppled on top of the fluffy, patchwork quilt. “Oh, God, it feels good to get my feet up. You’ve been so kind. Thank you. I hope I don’t repay you by passing this bug on.”

  “Like I said, I think I’ve already had it.” He hung back at the door, knowing he should get going, yet reluctant to do it. “You’d be more comfortable if you changed into pajamas.”

  “I will. Later.”

  “And you should take something for that fever.”

  She opened the drawer of her night table and pulled out a vial of Tylenol. He watched as she swallowed two tablets, and saw her grimace as they went down.

  He bet her throat was sore. Without asking her, because he was sure she would say no, he went to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea. He found the fridge and cupboards well stocked, so he put lemon and honey in the tea, and some biscuits on a small plate, as well.

  Her eyes rounded with surprise when he placed the plate and cup on her bedside table. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble. It’s after six. Shouldn’t you be getting home to your nephew?”

  “Yes, but I’d feel better leaving if there was someone here to take care of you.”

  She laughed. “I’m a big girl. And this is just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay. Hope you feel better.” As he turned to leave, he noticed a frame facedown on her bureau. “Mind if I look at this?”

  She sighed. “Go ahead.”

  Kate smiled up at him, beautiful and happy beside a man who looked utterly pleased with himself. Jay disliked her ex-fiancé on sight, though he could see that the man was handsome in a chiseled-features sort of way. He placed the frame back as he’d found it.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “All I need is sleep, which I can’t do with you standing there watching me.”

  “I suppose that was your sweet way of thanking me for my concern?”

  “Sorry, but I don’t do sweet.”

  He noticed a framed piece of embroidery on the wall. A picture of a kitten on a rocking chair next to a fireplace. Home Sweet Home was embroidered along the bottom of the picture, along with the initials K.L.C.

  She didn’t do sweet. Right.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JAY PICKED UP A ROTISSERIE chicken, some buns and a bag of washed lettuce on his way home. Eric was already in the apartment, watching TV. With his hat off, his angelic blond curls softened the adolescent gawkiness of his face and Jay was reminded of the little boy who had been so easy to get along with.

  “Hey there, Eric. Sorry I’m late…but I’ve got dinner ready to go.”

  All he received for a reply was a grunt.

  “It isn’t much.” Jay set the groceries out on the table, along with a bottle of salad dressing. “But I figure we have the major food groups covered.”

  He poured two glasses of milk, then glanced into the living room. When food was involved, Eric wasn’t usually shy. “You hungry?”

  Eric ambled into the kitchen and looked over the hastily assembled meal with disinterest.

  Jay vowed to make more of an effort tomorrow night. They’d been doing too much of the last-minute, pick-up sort of food lately. “On the weekend I’ll buy some steak,” he offered. “We can bake potatoes and real vegetables to go with it.”

  Eric didn’t seem interested in menu planning with him. He put a little food on his plate, then started toward the living room.

  “Let’s eat at the table for a change.”

  “Why?”

  “I figure it’s time we settled into a regular routine.”

  “Why can’t our routine be eating in the living room?”

  Jay twisted the cap off the bottle of Italian dressing. “Because we need to touch base at some point in the day. Might as well be over dinner.”

  Eric didn’t look impressed
with that argument, but he sat down. Head bent over his plate, he started to eat.

  “Did the coach give you a copy of the basketball schedule yet?”

  Eric went to the backpack he’d left lying on the floor by the front door, rustled around a bit, then pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here.”

  Jay smoothed out the wrinkles so he could read it. Between practices and games, it seemed Eric would be busy after school every day but Tuesday and Thursday.

  “You know how your teacher suggested we hire a tutor to help you catch up with your classes?”

  Big sigh. “Yeah.”

  “I tried calling a couple names on the list she gave us. One of them is a first-year math major named Kevin Hodges. What do you say we give him a try? He said he’d meet you at the library after your last class.”

  Eric shrugged.

  “I was thinking two times a week to start.”

  “Why two times? Once is more than enough.”

  “When you get your grades up a little we can talk about cutting back.”

  “What if I can’t get my grades up? Maybe I’m not smart like you.”

  “You’re capable of passing high school. That’s all I’m asking. Whether you do better than that is up to you. When I was a kid, I was motivated. I wanted to be a pilot, and I knew the competition was going to be tough. You need to find something that motivates you.”

  “Maybe nothing motivates me.”

  Jay couldn’t help but think of Tracy and all the times he’d tried to help her with her homework, to no avail. She’d only laughed at him. She simply hadn’t cared.

  “A good education can make all the difference in your life, Eric. That, and staying away from the wrong kind of friends…and alcohol and drugs.”

  That was their unfortunate family legacy. But he’d do everything he could to save his nephew from that fate.

  Eric ate another mouthful, then took his plate to the trash can. Jay had his back to him, but he could hear the food being scraped into the garbage. It frustrated him having good food going to waste. “Is that all you’re eating?”

  “I’m not hungry. Can I watch TV now?” he asked, his voice full of grievance.