“He could make wooden teeth like George Washington’s look appealing,” Kitt said, sighing. There was no denying Rob’s good looks. “So did you suggest he come by to see me?”
“Nope. After I first ran into him at Fresh Market, he stopped by the house to visit and I didn’t think it was my beauty and sparkling conversation that brought him knocking at my door. So, I told him what he wanted to hear.” She chuckled and patted Kitt’s hand across the table. “That you weren’t married, you live in Orlando, and you’d be here soon, so he might want to keep an eye out for your car.”
“Rob came to the house to visit you? I am surprised at that. Did he actually ask about me?”
“Ah, ha. You do still care.” Sug said smugly. “Yes, he brought up your name first at the supermarket and again when he came here.”
Kitt stuck out her tongue to keep from breaking into a smile. Interesting. She wanted to ask for details of the conversation but didn’t want to give Auntie the satisfaction. And she needed to know more about what her aunt was facing. “It’s time to talk about more important things now. Tell me about your health issues.”
Sug shrugged. “Not much to tell. I’ve been feeling poorly for some time and I finally saw a doctor and he wanted to run some tests. The verdict isn’t in yet.”
Verdict. So it was something bad. “Mom said I should come at once …” Kitt choked up and swiped at her eyes. “She insinuated it was life-thr—“
“Your mother is a drama queen.” Sug studied her fingernails. “I’m surprised she was concerned.”
“So you’re not…” Kitt couldn’t bring herself to say dying. “Of course Mom was worried. Dad said she was alarmed after he told her what you said about your ‘failing health’.
“What I’d like to know is why you told him.” Kitt leant forward. “Why didn’t you talk to your sister? Don’t tell me you two still aren’t speaking.” Seeing the stubborn set of her aunt’s jaw, Kitt threw up her hands. “What in hell’s wrong with you and my mother?”
“She’s the one that got her feathers ruffled. Just because I didn’t attend her and Jim’s fortieth anniversary celebration at some fancy-schmancy club in Arizona, she got all bent out of shape. Flying across the whole United States for a party is her style, not mine. I didn’t go. So, big deal! She and your father should have stayed in Florida. It’s sunny here too.”
“I never understood why they moved either, but they claimed it was a dryer climate and better for Dad’s asthma. If he wanted ‘dry’ they shouldn’t have flown off to rainy England where he’s accepted some kind of fellowship for the summer. Nevertheless, I wish you two sisters would make up.”
“Tell your mom that.”
“I will. I suppose it would have been an expensive trip for you.”
“I could have afforded it if I wanted to.”
Rising, Kitt kissed her aunt’s forehead. She was a proud woman who lived modestly and it would have stretched her income, but of course she wouldn’t admit it. Somehow, Kitt had to reunite these two bull-headed sisters before Sugar died, if she was that ill. “I’m sure she regrets the tiff as much as you do, but one of you has to relent.”
“One of us wasn’t in the wrong.” Sug stuck her nose in the air but only briefly. “Was she really upset when she heard I might have cancer?”
An alarm went off in Kitt’s head. If her aunt had actually mentioned the big C word, it was no wonder Mom insisted Kitt come. “She had one of her infamous headaches.”
Sug smiled and tapped her cup again. “Could I have some more coffee please? And could we talk about Rob Harrison now that you’re finished giving me the third degree?
“I hear he’s done okay for himself. No one knows where he got it but he has money, and plenty of it. He’s been back here a couple of weeks, arrived in a fancy car, and Jonesy says he leased a condo through Barker Realty. Can you imagine? The Harrison’s rickety house is empty and Rob’s old beater still stands in the driveway, all the tires flat. His dad and mom have both passed away, so I don’t know why Rob came back here. His brother left town when he was sixteen and as far as I know, he never returned. I haven’t heard whether he or Rob came back for the funerals.”
Sug stopped babbling and took a breath. “Did he happen to tell you what he’s been doing to get rich?”
Kitt shook her head. “He told me about the condo and I saw the car. Thank heavens he didn’t wreck it last night, or end up in jail for DUI. We just talked about old times and our…uh…friendship in high school.”
“You were hot for him, but you can call it a friendship if you want to.”
“You said he was just making the best of what God gave him, but the way he strutted and smirked, I still don’t know why he turned me on.”
Sug rose and took her dishes to the sink. “I was always a sucker for that bad boy image as well.”
“Uncle Ned? A bad boy?”
“Are you nuts? Who’s talking about Uncle Ned? I married a solid, family-type man, and you see where it got me. Nowhere and he died ten years into our union, leaving me to a life that was even more boring.”
Kitt sat back in her chair and tried to digest that news. Lionel had a steady job and he was intelligent, reliable and thrifty. He took an interest in his appearance and cultural and civic affairs. She was fond of him and thought if they spent more time together, it would grow into love. Maybe not the kind that curls your toes but…
“I was talking about that old flirt, John Henry,” Sug said. “No one ever turned me on like he did.”
The only one who did that for Kitt was Rob and marriage to him would definitely be a roller coaster ride…with all the thrills she craved in life. But more than likely the highs and lows and twists and turns would be more than they could survive.
Chapter Three
Auntie was dutifully resting, and Kitt was curled up in a cushioned rocker on her wraparound porch with her laptop, notebook, pen, and cell phone. The sweet citrus smell of lantana danced on the soft morning breeze, to the accompanying tinkle of wind chimes tucked under the eaves. Life was good in small town America. The slower pace of Summerville was a welcome change from the bustle of Orlando where her apartment windows looked out on a steady stream of traffic and her locked VW hovered in an underground parking garage. Here, she parked in the drive and left the keys behind the visor.
Kitt played with the button on her pen, pushing the point in and out. She hadn’t actually told Dan that Sugar was terminal, but Kitt did let drop info about how really worried her mother was. And he’d come to his own conclusions.
She was as underhanded as Sug. Maybe it ran in the family. Grinning, Kitt wiggled her bare toes and was immediately reminded of Rob and last night, and she had to fight down her desire for sex before she could concentrate on what was supposed to be the biggest thrill in her life right now. A real case of her very own.
She read over her notes again. Tracking down a man who’d bilked his girlfriend and took off with another wealthy woman was pretty much routine work, as far as seasoned private eyes went, but it was a challenge for a newbie. And if she could solve this case, Dan might assign her a bigger one. Then, if she proved herself, she hoped he’d hire her fulltime so she could quit her school librarian job to work at Ace.
A murder would be nice. She’d loved criminology, her minor in college, but she hadn’t foreseen it as her future career. And now that she’d discovered—a little late in life—that thrills were what she craved, she’d vowed to go after what she wanted.
“Thrills” brought Rob Harrison to mind, again. Rob was exciting and a challenge just like detective work, but combining the two could be a lethal mixture. He’d never approve of her skulking around tracking criminals, especially at night. He’d worry about her the way he did when he thought she might turn to other guys if he didn’t make her climax. There it went, that tingling again. She wanted Rob’s penis inside her. She longed for his body against hers. Kitt sighed.
Lionel wasn’t a worrier. He never even ask
ed where she’d been on her nights out with girlfriends. He was safe, and her new career and Lionel would balance. But was he another ‘Uncle Ned’?
Auntie had the hots for John Henry? Kitt never knew that.
Last night when Rob’s sleek black sports car sat behind her yellow Bug out front of the house seemed far away, almost as if it never happened. Rob Harrison in a Corvette. Or a Porsche or…she was terrible at identifying cars…might well have been a dream. But remembering his magic touch, she felt the heat rise from her toes to linger on her sex, making it twitch, and to swell her breasts, and to eventually touch her neck and cheeks in a burning sensation.
Shaking her head, she forced her attention onto the screen of her laptop. She could not let lust ruin her future career. She had to stop thinking about…him. She hadn’t bothered to bring her printer, so she needed to copy the info into the notebook by hand. Scanning the notes, she read them aloud. She remembered things better when she heard as well as saw them.
“Jason Terewski and Pamela Patterson lived together for two years. Pamela was the widow of Graham Patterson, a millionaire who dropped dead of heart failure. Graham, 20 years older than Pamela, a bachelor prior to their marriage, bought her lavish gifts and left her his fortune.
Six months after his death, she met Terewski at a car dealership when she took in the vehicle Graham bought her to be serviced and he tried to sell her a newer one.
Jason Terewski, born in Colorado, lived in various states, usually working as a car salesman. Last seen in Leesburg, FL where he’d lived with Pamela. Jason: average height and weight, muscular build, blue eyes, curly light-coloured hair, a charmer. Underhanded, Pam said.
Terewski left Pam a note saying he couldn’t stay with her any longer. She treated him as if he was inferior because he came from a less moneyed background, didn’t have a college degree and wasn’t a bank president and aristocrat like Graham had been.
Furious and eager to gain restitution, she wanted him caught. He’d cleaned out their joint bank account, stolen her diamonds, and left in the black Porsche that she’d bought him. She hadn’t contacted the police because she wanted to save herself the embarrassment of being taken for a sucker.
The car was a gift from her to him and in his name, but she wanted the rest recovered.
Rumour had it that Jason had been pursuing another wealthy widow and they’d gone off somewhere together. Her name was Lana and since her husband Martin Turner died, she was the sole owner of a popular restaurant/bar business.
I’ll bet Pamela wasn’t the first, and Lana won’t be the last woman he suckers. Kitt rapped her pen against her laptop. “Talk about a gigolo!”
“Are you talking about that Harrison boy?”
The nasal voice made Kitt jump.
“I saw he visited you…um…early this morning. Or was it late last night? The nerve of him, honking that awful horn!”
“Jonesy! I mean, Mrs. Jones.” The old busybody was standing on her porch, looking over the railing. “Why would you think he’s a gigolo?”
She shrugged. “Look at the car he was driving. Where else would he get the money?”
Kitt was seething inside, but she didn’t want to prolong this conversation. She rolled her eyes and hoped Jonesy would get the hint and leave.
“You think he worked to get it?” Shaking her head, she planted her hands on her hips. “Your aunt told me you might be coming but she didn’t know when.”
Auntie sure had been confident she’d come. “I know.”
“You were mumbling to yourself when I came out. Do you always read things aloud?”
“I’m working,” she said, gazing at her laptop.
“I thought school was out.”
“I have a summer job.”
“Does that mean you won’t be staying? Because you should. Carolina needs you. She hasn’t been well. During her latest spell, I took her some chicken soup.”
“That was nice.” Kitt felt bad that Auntie hadn’t had anyone to care for her when she was ill, but she didn’t need a buttinski neighbour to tell her what she should do. On second thought, Jonesy might know something about Sug’s condition… “Latest spell? When was that? Did she say what was wrong?”
“A couple of weeks ago. She said it was nothing but I could tell she was lying. She was white as a sheet and perspiring. She still looks peaked, don’t you think?”
“I’ve never known Sug to lie, Mrs. Jones.” Kitt crossed her fingers. Her aunt was currently suspect. She looked fine to Kitt and she still wasn’t sure if Sug was really sick or had secret ambitions—such as worrying her sister or playing matchmaker between Kitt and Rob. “However, I can work from here for a time and see that she rests and eats well. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She began gathering up her things.
“Humph. I’ll go. You can stay. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
Humph. You did too. Kitt smoothed her paper with the notes and started to jot again.
“If that Harrison boy comes around again, tell him to lay off the horn,” Jonesy called before slamming her door.
Kitt looked up, taking a deep breath of the soft summer air. There were things to be said in favour of living in an apartment with neighbours who wouldn’t bother you unless you got too loud.
That happened to her once. Since then, she’d kept the television on, tuned to a sports channel when she and Lionel had sex because he had a habit of shouting when he came. He said he couldn’t help it and she shouldn’t try to interfere with his spontaneity.
Ahooga. The loud sound shocked Kitt out of her reverie and seeing an open-topped black car swoop into place behind her Bug, her heart raced.
Rob vaulted out of the vehicle and subsequently over the porch rail.
She clutched her chest even though the gigolo remark echoed in her mind. “A dramatic arrival,” she said, pursing her lips to keep from smiling. She couldn’t help herself. She was delighted to see him.
Rob bowed, sweeping a pretend hat from his head. “Why so snarky?” He plopped down in the wooden porch swing. “What have you got there?”
She slapped shut her notebook and lowered the lid to her laptop. “Just some homework. Jonesy made me snarky. She doesn’t like your horn waking her.”
Rob chortled. “Like I care.”
“She said to tell you to lay off of it, and she made a rude remark about me not being here for Sugar. She said I should spend the summer; Auntie really needs me.” Kitt studied his face as she asked, “What do you think?”
“I think you should stay. She needs you.” He grinned and Kitt felt that twinge of desire his smile always gave her. What about him? Did he need her? Want her? She wanted him in the worst way.”
“Are you in Summerville to stay?”
“More or less.”
“You never give a direct answer, do you?” she huffed. “Why are you always so secretive? Where have you been? Here and there. You blow off all my questions. Why?”
“Geez. You are in a snarky mood. I plan to hang around for a long while. I’ll leave town occasionally but I’ll be living in the condo I told you about. There. How’s that? When I left here, I joined the Navy and was aboard ship most of the time the next four years. Does that explain the ‘here and there’?”
“Somehow, I can’t picture you as a sailor.”
He shrugged. “I had a high school diploma but no real training and I didn’t want to pump gas or wash cars. I wanted a good job and the military offered food, shelter, steady pay, and the chance to learn something useful. Besides, women love a man in uniform, and those blues made my butt look really good.”
She chuckled like she knew he expected.
Rob asked what she’d been doing and she told him.
“A school librarian?” He nearly choked, laughing. He pointed at her laptop. “What kind of homework does a librarian do? List people with overdue books and hire hit men to go after them?”
“You are such a smart ass,” she said.
“Better than a dumb ass.
” Rob raised his arms over his head and stretched, his T-shirt hugging his hard chest.
“I was a cook in the Navy. Now it’s your turn to laugh. But it paid off. I got a job as a chef after my enlistment was up and I’m a damned good one.”
“You’re kidding.” She shook her head. “Where did you learn to cook?”
“Not at home, which I’m sure is what you’re thinking. Nope. I learned in the service. I started out as an apprentice to a guy who really knew his stuff.” Standing, Rob reached out to her. “Stow that stuff and I’ll take you for a ride in my hot car.”
Rob became a cook? She tried to picture him in a tall white chef’s hat. Maybe he’d shaved his head because of his job.
“Hot as in speed, not stolen, I hope.” Smiling, she rose while juggling her equipment, and he reached for the laptop. Afraid he might look at the screen, she handed him her cell phone instead. “Is your car a Porsche?”
“You mean you can’t tell it’s a ‘Vette?” He looked quizzically from her loaded arms to the tiny cell phone she’d given him.
She shook her head and hugged the computer to her breasts. “I knew it was a fancy sports car but I suck at recognising models. I’ll take this stuff in the house and be right back.”
Inside, Kitt saved what she’d typed and finding Sug asleep, she left a note and made a quick escape.
“You didn’t trust me with your laptop?” Rob asked, as she climbed in the car and fastened her seat belt. “Secret information in there? Or love letters to Train Man?”
“Lionel is not in any way connected to trains, and I wasn’t writing a letter. Where are we headed?”
She was wearing her white short shorts and the leather seats were hot against her bare legs. She squirmed, trying to relieve the burning. Rob watched, amusement twitching his lips. “I thought we’d take a trip down memory lane and see if the barn where we used to meet is still there.”
“How sweet. I didn’t know you were a romantic, Rob.”
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.”
Bad Boy, Back in Town Page 3
