“Shit.” Slurring his words, a Preppy Guy stared goggle-eyed at the men dragging his friends to their feet. “We didn’t mean any harm. Nothing would’ve happened.” He cast a wild-eyed glance from Tilly to Jordan and back. “It was just a joke.”
“It’s a bad joke.” Jericho crossed his arms over his chest and looked like the worst kind of badass cop. “The punch line is where you end up in a jail cell.”
The seriousness of their situation must have finally made it through to Preppy Guy’s last surviving brain cells in his booze-soaked head. “Steve here just got a little excited. I’m an attorney. We can get this sorted out in no time.” Preppy Guy gave the detective a shamefaced grin meant to convey they had an “understanding.” “Honest. I’m getting married tomorrow. Becky and I are going to Hawaii for the honeymoon.”
“I don’t think so.” Jericho’s expression never wavered. “You should have thought of all the legalities before your friends started to harass Ms. Danes.”
“Please, man. You got to let me go.”
The detective’s stony face cracked into a smile that made Jordan send up a silent “thank you” that he wasn’t the one on the receiving end this time. “Those sunny beaches will have to wait. Tell the bride ‘Aloha.’” He turned to the head of security. “Take these guys down to your office. I’ll send a wagon to transport them to the station for booking.”
The men’s loud complaints fell on deaf ears as they were led away.
“I’m taking her to my room to get her settled down.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and urged her down the hall.
“Get me settled down?” She stopped and shook out of his hold. “Oh, no. I’m going to find out what happened to my key card.”
“You agreed earlier.”
“That’s when I was scared, now I’m just plain pissed.”
“I think this is where I came in.” Jericho turned her around and gave her a gentle push back in Jordan’s direction. “He’s right. You can find out what happened just as well from his suite. Besides, I have good news. Nick is in ICU. He suffered a few broken ribs, a punctured lung, and some head trauma, but he’ll definitely make it. We’re trying to contact his next of kin.”
“You should ask Miranda.” Jordan ran his hand up and down Tilly’s arm. It was more a reassurance to himself that Tilly was unharmed as it was to comfort her. He pulled in a deep breath to calm his racing thoughts. “She’ll know how to get a hold of them. I’m glad he’s going to be all right. It’s like this whole project is cursed.” He hugged Tilly closer. “There haven’t been any stray mummies lurking around in the lobby lately?” It did him a world of good to hear her laugh.
“I swear I saw a few zombies roll out of the bar, but mummies, I don’t think so.”
“Good. Come on.” Jordan’s hand skimmed the terry cloth of her sleeve and downward until he twined his fingers around hers. “Jericho is right. I’ll call down and find out what’s going on. I know you haven’t had supper. We can eat and study the whiteboard at the same time.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not eatin’ a BLT and lookin’ at pictures of a body in the bathtub at the same time.”
“Okay, okay.” He flicked the end of her nose with his finger. “After we eat.” He turned to the detective. “I was wondering. Is it possible to look at the video from the security cameras? Oh, and the photos from the Bolzano crime scene.”
“I don’t see why not.” The detective frowned, his eyes squinting in thought. “I’ve been thinking about what the cameraman said earlier, why he wanted to review the video. Could he have seen something on it that the digital forensic team missed? The quality is grainy and it shows whoever killed Ethridge using a cane to change the angle of the camera. The CSI lab in Kansas said the DNA and fingerprint results will be ready tomorrow morning.”
“That’s great.” Jordan was tired of the media circus dogging them. “Maybe we can get this wrapped up in no time and go back to New York. What do you say—take in a show, maybe check out our competition?”
“I’m headed back to Lewistown for some R and R. Ruby can do the cookin’ while I get my show ready for the Thanksgivin’ season. As nice as spendin’ time in New York sounds, it’s just not gonna happen.”
A knot of hurt grew under his ribs. He knew she was skittish, but her outright rejection scalded him, burned him in ways that he’d never thought possible. It took everything he had to bite back the angry words, words he knew would cut deeper than a fillet knife. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”
Tilly pulled away, head down, clutching the robe close to her throat. She gave her head a quick shake. “I can’t. I told you. There’s a lot to do. I need to get home and take some time for my kid. She has the lead in the school play. They’re doing Grease. Besides, Ruby said she was caught smokin’. Then my publicist called. I’m behind on my book tour because of this murder, not to mention that she’s scheduled two personal appearances on national talk shows.”
A haze of red clouded his vision. Excuses, all of it nothing but excuses. She didn’t want to be around him. She’d used him for sex, pure and simple. “Fine, why don’t you pencil me in between Mother Theresa and your next visit to the OB-GYN.” The minute the words flew out of his mouth, he knew he’d crossed a line.
A big one.
“I think that’s enough, Kelly.” Jericho’s stern words cut through his stupidity, but the reprimand stung like hell.
“Back off.” She planned to walk out of his life. A hot surge of panic ignited his temper higher still. “This is between the two of us.” He had vowed to give her the space she needed, but he also had to keep her from bolting. Damn his mouth. It went on autopilot when he got angry. Now he stood in a mess of his own making. He didn’t like it, or himself, but he wasn’t about to give Jericho the satisfaction of coming out the hero one more time.
“You want him to join the party at Central?” The detective pointed his thumb in Jordan’s direction.
She held up her hand to quiet Jericho. “Let me take care of this.” Her hands rested on her hips, allowing the lapels of her robe to gape open in the most spectacular manner. No matter how irritated and mean he’d been, he couldn’t help zeroing in on her creamy flesh. He just hoped the detective had the decency to look away. He caught him giving her a quick, sidelong glance before he directed his eyes straight ahead. “First, Mother Theresa is dead, although her spirit lives on, God bless her soul. Second, I’ve already had my yearly, but thank you very much for your concern about my health. And third, did anyone ever tell you that you’re a horse’s ass?”
He blinked in surprise.
“Oh yes, in case you haven’t figured it out by now, the world doesn’t revolve around you. We might have had some great sex.” She turned to Jericho and scrunched up her nose. “I’m sorry. I lost my mind and had sex with this man. One minute I think I could love him, the next I’m not sure about anything, especially when he runs his mouth.”
The man’s lips clamped together as his looked them over. Then he gave her a small smile and shook his head with a small sigh of resignation. “I guess this means the trip to the Nelson is off.”
“Yes,” Both Jordan and Tilly replied at once.
“Got it.”
“Me too.” The realization that he’d come within a hairsbreadth of losing her followed his initial rush of relief. “I am a horse’s ass.”
“You ought to have that tattooed somewhere on your body just so you don’t forget.” She shook a finger at him. “I mean it. You keep up this macho bullpucky, and I’m out of here. Gemma might like you goin’ all alpha male on her, but don’t you be tellin’ me what to do. I’ve lived a long time without a man. I can do it again.”
“Ouch. I think the guy with the bashed balls got the better deal.” He hadn’t had a strip ripped off him in a long time. Her words stung hard. They held truth and he hadn’t missed the thread of fear. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He’d been alone for so long that he wasn’t sure how to
take someone else into consideration first. A new game, new rules.
“Oh honey, if you think that was bad, be thankful that I didn’t sic Ruby on you.” She let out a very unladylike snort. “I’ve seen her reduce a three hundred pound drunk to a blubberin’ mass of tears.”
“Tell you what…” He tried for a light tone. With any luck this storm would die out and he could set things to right. “When this is over, maybe I’ll come to Lewistown and check out this Ruby chick you keep throwing in my face. She sounds hot.”
A wry smile spread across Tilly’s face and she let out a hoot of laughter. “Oh, don’t even go there. I keep tellin’ you, she’s too much woman for you to handle.”
“No, I think I’m going to have to find out for myself.”
Jericho’s cell phone rang. “I’m throwing this thing away once this investigation is over. I need a beach and a few cold ones to regain my sanity.” He walked away to take the call.
“I’m really sorry.” Jordan planned to make discreet inquiries into a good therapist the moment his plane’s tires hit the runway in New York. “You’ve given me enough chances. I’m walking away on my own if it happens again. You deserve better.”
“These last few days have been hell, and my hand is throbbin’ to beat the band. Tonight just piled on top of everything else.” Her sigh filled him with dread. “I need time to think. You say you’ll give me that time, but I know your idea and mine of what’s enough time is different. Trust me to work this out in a way that’s best for me.”
“What about me?” He needed to know where he stood, if he’d truly blown his chance to be with her.
“Oh, you’re definitely in the equation, but I don’t know where.”
“That’s honest.” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. In this moment, he savored the feel of her in his arms, the way she fit as if made for him. “I’m good with that, I guess.” He glanced across the room at Jericho and nodded in his direction. “What about him?”
“Tyler is a wonderful man.” Her face was as prim and proper as it was unreadable.
“He’s married to his job—and his cell phone,” he snorted.
Her blue gaze settled on the detective and a sweet smile touched her lips. “I’m sure he takes his gun and phone off at night.”
Damn. Cut to the bone.
Jericho returned with a smile on his face. “Your merry band of men is in the wagon and heading off to the KCPD Hilton. It should be fun and games for all.”
“Good.” She turned but kept herself within the circle of his arms. The world righted itself the second she relaxed against his chest.
“I’m going to run down to the security department and ask them to burn a CD of the video.”
“Great.” Jordan let go of her but retained possession of her hand. “We’re going to check on her room situation. There better be a good explanation.”
Once they were settled in his room it only took one call to find out what had happened to her key card. She wasn’t going to like the answer. “Miranda canceled your room.”
She jumped off the couch like a jack-in-a-box. “She did what?” Blue fire blazed in her eyes. Her cheeks flushed with anger as she pulled the lapels of her robe together. “Oh, oh, oh,” she growled with each pace of the room.
“She told the front desk that The Culinary Channel had finished filming and told them to cancel your room.” He forced calm into his words, although he wanted to get his hands on Miranda—preferably around her neck.
“How come you still have your room?” She glared at him with suspicion. “Why didn’t she cancel yours at the same time?”
He took her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. “I’ve learned to book my own accommodations. It gives me the freedom to come and go as I wish. Besides, I get to take it off my taxes instead of Hirschberg. It’s a win-win.”
“Where’s my stuff?” Her mouth thinned as his words sank in.
“They have it locked in a closet downstairs. Apparently, she packed it up, had a bellman come, and he took it downstairs. You’ll need to sign for it.”
“That’s it. The hateful toad has walked all over me with those fancy heels of hers for the last time.”
…
“Do you know what time it is?” Hirschberg’s snarl fueled the fire raging in Tilly’s breast.
“Yes. The big hand is at eight, which would be nine in New York, the little hand is at fifteen.” She was loaded for bear and intended to give him both barrels.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” His gruff bark didn’t scare her. She was way past scared and into fight for her life mode.
“Miranda Franklin. She canceled my room without tellin’ me.” It was hard to keep her voice anywhere near calm, but she managed. “Do you know how embarrassin’ it is to have Jordan rescue my luggage so I could change clothes?”
“The hotel probably misunderstood the check-out date. It happens.” She heard the clank of ice in a glass and a splash of liquid. He must be drinking his poison of choice. Bad tidings usually required him to throw one or two back. He waited a moment and Tilly could envision him downing the first in one gulp. “She called to tell me she pulled the plug on any more filming, especially with what happened to Nick. All I heard were complaints about the two of you being uncooperative.” There was another pause and the definite sound of a swallow. “She said the police liaison, Detective Jericho, was less than forthcoming.”
“In a pig’s eye!” She gripped her phone so tight that the case bit into her injured hand. She didn’t care, this was war. “Jordan and I were available for a scheduled interview and press conference with the police. She and Nick aren’t allowed to film anything else. Ask Detective Jericho, if you don’t believe me.” She pulled in a deep breath. “That woman is a drama queen. She’s had it in for me for bringin’ her out of a fit of hysterics and a faint. I can’t speak for Jordan, but she has verbally abused and threatened me for the last time.”
“Now, now.” Her boss tried for fatherly, but failed abysmally. “I’m sure you’re overreacting.”
“Don’t go there. Don’t even go there.” Everything, all the hurt and anger, roiled out on a wave of heat. “This is the last straw. She is disrespectful and vicious. I won’t stand for it.” She couldn’t stop the flood of words. “She threw in the towel too soon. The Culinary Channel could’ve hired a replacement cameraman while Nick is in the hospital. We are close to solvin’ the crime, I know it. It would be too bad if you were left out in the cold when everything goes public.”
“Are you trying to threaten me?” Her boss’s growl rolled off her.
“Here’s what’s goin’ to happen. Fire Miranda.” She paced with her phone glued to her ear and determination in every step. “I don’t want to see her, or hear from her, ever again. I’m walkin’ if you don’t. Not just off this project, but the whole shebang. It’s that simple. It’s not a threat, but a fact.”
“You can’t. You have a contract.” The smugness in his voice made her suck in a deep breath to compose herself for the next onslaught.
“Oh yes I can. My brother-in-law may be a country lawyer, but he’s sharp.” She waved Jordan away as he held out his hand for her phone. If he wanted to talk to the boss from hell, he could do it on his dime. Besides, he had that, I’m-a-man-so-let-me-handle-this look plastered across his face. No, this was her battle. “He’ll chew your New York attorneys into so much pâté that you could spread them on crackers and call them canapés.”
“You listen to me, little girl—” He never got to finish his bluster before she cut him off.
“Don’t ever ‘little girl’ me. Keep pushin’, and the whole world will know about it, along with every detail of how you treat your ‘talent.’ Hell, I might even do it anyway. I’m goin’ on Becky Baxter’s show in two weeks. I’ll bet she’d like a scoop.”
“Try it.” The threat in Hirschberg’s voice was real and vicious.
Matilda Jane Danes had faced worse than Greg H
irschberg and survived.
“Here’s the thing. I didn’t want to do this project at first. Miranda and Tom Green said it was in my contract. I called Steve after you forced Jordan and me to do the show. He found a loophole. You have to give me two weeks’ notice on each new project. So, I don’t care what you do. Cancel my contract, sue me. You don’t have a hold over me. Even if you take everything I have, I’ll start over again.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Hirschberg’s conciliatory voice held a touch of panic. “Let’s not get hasty.”
“Fire Miranda.” She wasn’t backing down on this.
“Okay, she’s out.”
“You can salvage the program, but on our terms.” She glanced over at Jordan for confirmation. “We want final say on the show.”
“All right.” He let out a sigh of resignation, but she could hear the cha-ching going off in his head.
“And get me another room at the hotel.”
Jordan tapped her on the shoulder and whispered, “They’re full up. Have you noticed there’s a big romance writers’ convention in town? I have an extra bed in my suite.”
She thought for a second and nodded. “The room is covered, but the rest is non-negotiable, and I want it in writin’. Have your lawyer contact mine and send me a copy of the new contract as well.”
Jordan pointed to himself.
“Oh, and ditto with Jordan. He’ll need to sign off on the show also.”
“Damn it, you are one hard-ass woman.” Hirschberg’s complaint held a touch of admiration.
“You better believe it.”
“I’ll send over a new PA tomorrow.” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “This better be a ratings buster.”
“You roll the dice, Mr. Hirschberg.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get to work and bring us something we can use.”
The call ended and she barely made it to the couch as her knees gave way. For all her bluster, she hated confrontation. Her stomach flip-flopped around like she’d eaten live goldfish.
“Are you okay?” Jordan sat beside her but didn’t touch her. Just as well. She felt giddy and fragile as glass at the same time.
Recipe for Love (Entangled Select Suspense) Page 24
