by R. J. Kaiser
“Want to go out in the spa, then?” Mike said.
“Yeah,” Manuela replied.
Mike struggled to his feet, then helped Manuela up in a gentlemanly way. Mike was at least polite. She had to say that for him. Arnold, though, looked a little crazy. He was obviously high as a kite. Mike went over to help him up, as well.
The two brothers looked at her with twin smiles. She thought, “Oh, shit,” but knew it was no time to have regrets. She reminded herself how bad she wanted to get Mac McGowan, the sonovabitch who could have made her happy, but screwed her instead.
There was something a lot worse about a guy who dangled a dream in front of your nose only to jerk it away. At least the O’Gills were up front about what they were doing. She might not like fucking them, but she had to respect their honesty. Mac could learn something from them, if only not to screw around with somebody’s happiness.
“You want to undress in my room or out at the spa?” Mike asked.
“In your room, if that’s okay.” She checked her watch. “And I’d like to make a call, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, no problem.”
The brothers went out the slider onto the deck. Manuela grabbed her purse and headed for Mike’s bedroom with its huge water bed. There was access to the deck from his room, too, so she could step out directly, without having to go back through the other rooms. Putting her purse on the bed and watching it ripple, she decided to call Angel first, before she undressed.
She got the slip of paper out of the zipper pocket in her purse and dialed the number. Angel answered on the first ring.
“Manuela?”
“Yeah, it’s me. So, what happened? You do the bitch?”
“Tonight. I got everything all lined up. I’m going in her fucking door and blow her away before she knows what hit her.”
“Good, Angel, that’s good.”
“You getting the money, then?”
“Yes, I’m getting it.”
“Great.”
“Don’t forget, you’ve got to do Mac before you get it, though.”
“I know. I’m going to get him first thing in the morning.”
“Fine.”
She looked across the room and out the slider. On the deck, but inside the protection of the privacy screen surrounding the spa, Mike and Arnold O’Gill were standing naked, Arnold testing the water with his toe. The sight of their huge bodies made her cringe.
“You want me to call and leave a message after I do the bitch?” Angel asked.
“No, I think you better not call home. Ma said the cops have been there, so they definitely are onto you, Angel. I’ll phone you at this number from the club or someplace. What’s a good time?”
Outside, the O’Gills had gotten into the spa. Manuela could see that the water level was right to the top rim of the tub. She gulped more tequila, then, after taking a breath, finished off the glass. The fire in it made her shiver.
“Midnight?”
“Fine,” Manuela said. “I’ll phone you then.”
She hung up. Then she took off her clothes, and went off to do the O’Gill brothers for a thousand dollars and the satisfaction of knowing Mac McGowan wouldn’t be happy, either.
West Hollywood
With night falling, Jade found herself pacing her front room. She’d spent most of the afternoon at her kitchen table, going over the personnel files she’d gotten from Art Conti. Four of the pool maids had had prior criminal involvement with drugs, and she decided to focus her investigation there—initially, anyway. The trouble was, it had been difficult to concentrate, especially knowing that Mac’s personal problem was so much more pressing. The poor guy was besieged. There were those notes, now the phone call from the mystery woman; Jaime Caldron was zeroing in on him, and his wife was threatening to turn state’s evidence. And yet he was eager to take her to dinner.
“There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to help you, Mac,” she’d said, concerned about the possibility of inflated expectations.
“Having dinner with me will be a big help, trust me.”
He hadn’t elaborated, but the tone in his voice made her realize that his feelings for her were pretty strong. Was it simply because he was alone and under attack? The emotions of a guy in that kind of situation could be volatile. Ricky had loved her desperately, but the desperation mostly had to do with his need to share his bed. Looking back, she was able to see there wasn’t much mutuality in the relationship. Instead, he’d nodded in the direction of her long-term desires in the interest of his short-term gratification. And, as Ruthie had often said, some guys just couldn’t handle being alone. Was Mac one? How interested in her would he be once he was out of the woods and had his life back under control?
But what was she doing even thinking in these terms? She wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his friend. Who was the needy one, anyway? The way she was obsessing, it seemed like it was more she than Mac. Jade reminded herself this was not about her so much as it was about Mac Mc-Gowan’s problems and the ways she could be of help to him. Period.
After a while she started worrying about what she’d wear that evening, knowing jeans just wouldn’t cut it at a nice restaurant. Probably she’d put on a good pair of pants. Or a dress. She thought of that little T-shirt dress that had turned Ricky on, wondering if she dare wear something that unsubtle with Mac. It was probably a bad idea, but the notion intrigued her enough that she decided to try it on, just to see how she looked.
Studying herself in the mirror, Jade couldn’t decide if she looked sexy and feminine or like some slut trying too hard to make a statement. When the doorbell rang, she panicked, but realized it was too early for it to be Mac. She went to the front room and looked out the window, seeing Ruthie’s car. Her friend, still in uniform, was on the porch, holding a little box. Jade opened the door. Ruthie looked her up and down.
“Jesus,” she said. “My best friend’s a transvestite.”
“Very funny.”
“So this is what you do when you’re alone, pretend like you’re a regular girl.”
“Ha, ha, ha.”
“Well?” Ruthie said as she entered.
“I’m going out to dinner with Mac, okay?” Jade closed the door.
“Hey, that’s cool. The pool guy, right?”
“Yep.”
“Well then, congratulations, girl.” She handed Jade the box of chocolates in her hand.
“What’s this?”
“Pampering you a little just in case you aren’t pampering yourself.”
“Why do I need pampering?”
“Every woman does, ditz. Hello. Anyway, you’ve had it rough recently, and I thought you could use a boost.”
“That’s really sweet of you, Ruthie.”
“Besides, chocolate’s an aphrodisiac, and if you’ve got a hot date, a few chocolates at the right moment could come in handy.”
“Chocolate, an aphrodisiac?”
“That’s my theory. I usually get a craving for chocolate and sex at about the same time.”
“Which is most of the time, right?”
Ruthie gave her a playful tap on the jaw with her fist.
“Seriously, Jade, I’m happy for you.”
“No cause for celebration. This is a working dinner.”
“Maybe the man likes killing two birds with one stone. But you aren’t exactly in your usual uniform, Jade. Could it be you have ulterior motives? Or do nice guys get to look at your legs just because they’re nice?”
“You are a bitch, you know that?”
Ruthie threw back her head and laughed.
“But since you’re the only fashion consultant I know, tell me the truth,” Jade said. “Does this look all right? I mean with my face and hair. Or do I look like I forgot to change out of my nightgown or something?”
“A little makeup would help, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Like just my eyes?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I haven’t bought a
ny.”
“My drugstore’s always in my purse, girlfriend, if you want to avail yourself.”
Jade considered it. Ruthie waited. Jade thought about it some more.
“I’m becoming a slut, aren’t I?”
“You could say that. Want me to help you to really get down and dirty?”
“God, I feel cheap.” She sighed. “But what the hell, let’s do it—if you don’t mind.”
“Why would I mind, girl? I love seein’ my friends sinkin’ into the sewer.”
Jade gave her a look and they went to the bathroom where Ruthie got out all her paraphernalia.
“So, what’s going on with the pool boy?”
“The poor man’s besieged, even his wife’s sniping at his heels.”
“She probably still loves him.”
“Isn’t that sort of a strange way to show love?”
“Not unrequited love. I’ve never been a wife, much less an ex-wife, but I’ve been in love with a guy and still hated his guts. Shootin’ a sonovabitch like that’s possible for most women, even likely for some. But never mind the wife, how do you feel about this dude? This leadin’ somewhere?”
“Ruthie, give me a break. I’m wearing a skirt for only the second time in six months. A person can bear only so much stress.”
Ruthie Gibbons began to laugh. “I love you, you know that?”
While Ruthie helped her with her eyes, they talked about Mac, though Jade was circumspect with regard to his professional problems. Ruthie respected that and didn’t pry. She was a lot more interested in the personal side, anyway.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like this guy?”
“That’s hard to say. He’s very, very…”
“Yeah, I know, nice,” Ruthie said, finishing the sentence for her. “I’m trying to recall if I ever got laid by somebody whose main quality was that they were nice.”
“I’m never again going to share my feelings with you as long as I live,” Jade said.
“Let me ask you this. Can you picture yourself kissing the dude?”
Jade considered that. “Yes, I can.”
“The idea doesn’t give you a feeling like you just sucked on a lemon?”
“No.”
“Well, then, maybe this will work out, after all.”
“I don’t know what I want to happen, to be perfectly honest. And considering all the crap he’s facing, it’s an impossible situation. I don’t even know what I’m doing thinking in these terms.”
“You’re thinking that way because the guy gives you a tingle. Hey, girl, that’s good enough for me. And the dude’s rich! Why are you even thinking twice? I say do your hair and nails and put on the spurs.”
“I’ll be content to have dinner with him and talk about his case.”
“When’s he due?”
Jade looked at her sports watch. “In half an hour.”
“Which reminds me,” Ruthie said, grabbing Jade’s wrist and taking off her watch.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“It doesn’t go with the dress.”
“How’m I suppose to tell the time?”
“If you need to know the time, you ask the gentleman. His solid-gold Rolex should be accurate enough for your purposes.”
“Honestly, Ruthie.”
“Okay if I hang around to see him?”
“No. It’s not that kind of thing.” Jade grinned despite herself, belying her denial.
“As long as you invite me to the wedding you can say anything you want.” Ruthie laughed.
Once Jade’s makeup was complete, Ruthie gathered her things, dumping them back in her purse. “Well, I’ll be going, maybe get over to McDonald’s and have me a cheeseburger, a shake and fries before I go home. You be bad, girl.”
“Thanks for the chocolates.”
“Have one just before he picks you up.”
They hugged. Jade thanked Ruthie for the help, then walked her to the door. Ruthie skipped out to her car, waved goodbye and drove off. It was a nice evening. Jade stood for a moment or two, enjoying the air and looking up at the trees, their leaves rustling in the light breeze.
The phone rang. She went inside to get it. “Hello?” Several moments of silence followed. She said hello again, and then she heard a dial tone.
As Mac pulled up in front of Jade’s place he felt something he’d rarely felt in the past—a regret that he wasn’t somebody else. Almost anybody would do. Anybody but the guy whose life was unraveling before his eyes. At the same time, he realized that but for Aubrey St. George, Stella and all they’d been through back in 1978, he wouldn’t be here now. Life certainly had its little ironies.
Mac knocked on her door. Jade opened it moments later. She was in a cute little sexy dress and looked adorable. Pretty. The tan, freckled nose and lean, toned limbs were still in evidence, but so was a pert sensuality he’d only seen hints of before. Part of it was the makeup that made her big, dark eyes seem even larger, more dramatic.
“Wow. I didn’t know detectives came in such pretty packages. Is this what they mean by being dressed to kill?”
She blushed. “Hey, it’s either kill or be killed.”
He smiled. She turned still more red.
“Seriously, you look great.”
“Thanks.”
“You want to head right for the restaurant?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Just let me get my purse.”
Jade got her shoulder bag—no little dainty purse for this girl, not considering she needed to lug her artillery and communications gear with her.
“You like California cuisine—fish, chicken and pasta?” he asked as they went out the walk.
“The healthier the better.”
“I was thinking of Cambria’s on Melrose. It’s close by.”
“I’ve never eaten there, but I’ve heard it’s nice.”
Mac opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, giving him a peek at her firm, thin thighs. The inside of the car smelled good when he got in. Like gardenias. He smiled at her. Jade smiled back. Mac started the engine.
Jade said, “Tell me about the call you got from the mystery woman.”
As they drove, Mac recounted the conversation in detail, adding his impressions. When he was finished, he said, “What do you think?”
She pondered his question for a while. “The caller wants to meet you in person tomorrow.”
“Yeah, at the Getty.”
She shook her head. “Were it not for everything else that’s happened, I’d almost be inclined to think it’s a practical joke. Either that or we’re dealing with rank amateurs.”
He was surprised. “Why’s that?”
“She’s taking a terrible risk, asking for a face-to-face meeting. The police could easily stake out the rendezvous site, have you wired. The second she made an extortion demand they could step in and arrest her.”
“She’s obviously counting on the fact that I wouldn’t involve the police. And for good reason, I might add. It’s the last thing I’d do.”
“Even if she’s confident of that, she still has balls. The voice wasn’t familiar, I assume.”
“Not in the least. I couldn’t even hazard a guess who it was.”
“You think there could be any connection with your wife?”
“Not unless Stella’s teamed up with somebody and figured a two-pronged attack was more likely to succeed than simple extortion. To be frank, though, I doubt it.”
“Is your wife serious about her threat to cooperate with the police?”
“Stella just might be desperate enough, Jade. She’s proven she’ll take risks and can be pretty audacious when she feels enough passion about something.”
They arrived at Cambria’s a few minutes later. A valet took the car. They followed the walk between rows of potted palms to the entrance. Mac pulled on the huge brass door handle and they went inside. The restaurant’s decor was clean, modern, well lit with lots of skylights, potted plants, and waiters
in white jackets. They all looked Italian, whether they officially qualified or not. Brass railings separated sections containing a few tables, each with starched white tablecloths and a slender vase containing a tropical bud. The kitchen was open, the chefs effusive. It was the sort of place where dinner for two, including wine, ran between a hundred and a hundred and fifty dollars.
The maître d’ seated them. Jade seemed a little uncomfortable with the looks she was getting. It wasn’t hard to see why she turned heads—a combination of her short skirt, slender tanned legs and freckled nose. She was no siren, not even a girl to lust after, the pretty eyes notwithstanding. Her allure was that of a perfectly proportioned thoroughbred—grace, strength, sleekness, a woman guys wanted to chase around a track.
Mac ordered a bottle of white Italian spring wine as an aperitif. Bri’s instruction was reaping benefits he hadn’t anticipated. After the wine was poured, Mac took his glass and said, “To better days for both of us.”
They studied their menus until the waiter came. Jade ordered fish and vegetables. Mac had a seafood pasta dish. They each had a fish soup. While they were eating it, Jade offered a tentative plan for the next day.
“You’d have to be willing to risk the consequences of a screwup, but how about if I stake out your meeting at the Getty and follow your friend home? That way we’ll know who we’re dealing with.”
“I don’t know, Jade, sometimes I think the easiest thing would be to go in and see Caldron and make a clean breast of the whole affair.”
“That’s certainly an option. And I’d respect your decision to do that,” she said. “But somebody’s still trying to rip you off and I don’t think that should be allowed to go unpunished. We’re really talking about two different things.”
“The policewoman in you wants to catch the crook.”
“You must at least be curious.”
“Yes,” he said. “Believe me, I am.” He put down his soup spoon. “Meanwhile, though, I’ve got a proposal for you. How about if for the rest of the evening I’m not the boss and you’re not the detective. Let’s just be Mac and Jade. What do you say?”
She took a healthy drink of wine. “Okay.”
It wasn’t the most enthusiastic okay he’d ever heard, but he was willing to take it. He looked at her large but slender hand, recalling the strength of her grip. He wanted to take it, and he almost did. But he restrained himself, sensing Jade wouldn’t easily countenance an unwanted advance. She struck him as hypersensitive that way. Fragile, even.
