by Theresa Weir
“She’s got motive. She’s desperate to open a Doggie Daycare.” As he imparted that nugget of information to his aunt, he watched Jane begin to systematically go through the kitchen cupboards.
“You can’t fault the young woman for having a dream.”
Tom glanced up at his aunt, who was observing him intently. “I don’t. But knowing that her ex-boyfriend stole her savings does give me reason to think she may have a better motive than others. Plus, it’s been pointed out that these thefts began not long after Jane got her start in this neighborhood.”
Ruby pursed her lips disapprovingly. “By who? That other dog walker? The most disagreeable woman who’s telling anyone who will listen that this is the fault of her competitor?”
He dipped his head in acknowledgement.
“Really, Tom. I thought you were a better judge of character than that.”
He had too. Before Meghan.
Distracted by her beauty and charm, he’d missed, or ignored, the signs that his fiancée was cheating on him. Ever since he’d been distracted, looking for things that weren’t there and missing stuff that was right in front of him. Brady was right, his powers of observation were slipping.
A movement on the screen captured his attention. Jane stood in the kitchen arms outstretched to the sides, looking at Marshmallow and talking to her.
As though the dog understood, she ran over to the door Tom knew led to the garage, and scratched at it. Jane shrugged and followed, moving off-camera.
“I don’t know why I let you convince me to spy on the girl like some sort of Peeping Tom,” Ruby muttered.
“Probably because you asked me to solve this case.”
“She’s special,” Ruby admonished softly. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Tom kept his eyes glued to the screen and his mouth shut, unwilling to confirm or deny her observation.
“Awww, Tommy,” she cooed, patting him on the head like she’d done when he was six. “I’m proud of you.”
As Tom sat there watching Jane return to the kitchen with the bright pink leash attached to Marshmallow’s collar, he didn’t feel proud. He felt terrible.
Chapter 12
Jane barely got Mr. Sterling inside his house before the gray thunderclouds, which had hovered ominously for most of the afternoon, opened up, drenching anything or anyone beneath them.
Whipping her disposable poncho and rain hat out of the pouch they were folded in, Jane prepared herself to face the rain. She only had one more visit to make before she headed home, but before she got to Marshmallow, the wind snatched away her hat. By the time she’d taken the Maltese on his very short walk, admiring how smart he was to stay under the eaves of the house, thereby keeping himself dry, her hair was plastered to her head.
After feeding the dog in the garage, where all his food and supplies were kept, she played a quick game of fetch with him, and then ventured outside for her long walk home.
Rainfall puddled in the streets, which meant keeping her sneakers relatively dry was an impossible task. She was already cold by the time she’d walked two blocks.
A car pulled up beside her as she waited to cross the road.
“Get in,” a familiar voice called.
Jane squinted through the raindrops to confirm the identity of the car owner.
Tom waved for her to climb into the beat-up sedan.
She shook her head. “I’m soaked.”
“What?”
“I’m soaked,” she shouted to be heard over the deluge.
“That’s why you should get in.” He leaned across the car and threw open the door for her.
She hesitated.
Thunder boomed.
“It’s not safe out there,” Tom cajoled.
Lightning flashed nearby and she jumped in the car. It smelled of stale coffee and old smoke.
“Do you smoke?” Jane asked, thinking she’d never noticed it when they’d kissed.
“No, this is my uncle’s car. He’s out of the country on some grand adventure. I drive it for him every once in a while to make sure it’s running whenever he gets back.”
“That’s nice of you.”
Tom shrugged. “That’s what family does for one another.”
Staring out the window, Jane nodded.
As though he remembered she didn’t have any family to help her out, he abruptly changed the subject. “What were you thinking walking around in this?”
Pushing damp tendrils of hair off her face, she said. “My car hasn’t been repaired yet. I was walking home.” She shivered.
Scowling, Tom cranked up the heat of the car and began driving in the direction of her apartment.
“Thank you. It’s nice of you to pick me up.”
“The least I could do,” Tom muttered, squeezing the steering wheel.
Jane didn’t say anything else. He was obviously upset about something. Maybe he was still annoyed she’d asked about his gym.
They were silent for the rest of the ride to her place. Jane wondered why he’d bothered to pick her up if he’d planned to give her the cold shoulder, but she didn’t ask since she was grateful to be someplace warm and dry.
He parked as close to her apartment entrance as possible and then reached for his door handle.
She grabbed his right elbow to stop him from getting out of the car. “You don’t have to walk me in.”
He turned, first looking down at where she touched him, before raising his gaze to search her face.
“There’s no reason for us to both end up looking like drowned rats,” she joked with a weak smile. “You’ve done enough. I don’t know how to thank you.”
He stared at her for a long moment as the tension in the car ratcheted higher. He covered her hand on his elbow with his own, his body heat seeping into her. “There’s no need to thank me.” His voice was suddenly husky with desire.
She felt an answering ping of pleasure in her core. “But what if I want to?” Shifting position, she leaned forward so she could kiss him.
He swallowed hard. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Later,” Jane whispered, capturing his lips before he could protest.
The moment their lips touched, a jolt of electric heat flooded through her.
Suddenly, she was no longer cold. She leaned farther over, trying to get closer to him, but the console was in her way.
And then all she could hear was pounding.
Loud pounding.
Tom pulled away from her and stared over her shoulder. “What the hell?”
Jane turned to see what he was looking at.
Alyssa, rivulets of rain running down her face, was pounding on the window wild-eyed.
“That’s my neighbor.” Panicked, Jane threw open the door of the car. “What’s wrong?
“Did he tell you who he is?” Alyssa asked breathlessly. “Did he tell you what he does for a living?” Her stare, directed at Tom, glittered with something close to hatred.
Fear and foreboding put every cell in Jane’s body on high alert. She turned back to Tom, hoping he’d tell her that whatever was going on was one big misunderstanding. He was frowning at Alyssa.
“Tom?”
He looked down at her, his gaze shuttered. “I can explain,” he said slowly.
“I ran his plates. He’s a P.I., Jane,” Alyssa burst out bitterly. “He’s a sneaky, snake-in-the-grass opportunist.”
Jane blinked, confused. “I thought you owned a gym.”
“I said I’m a part owner of a gym,” he corrected. “I loaned part of the start-up capital to a friend.”
“But why wouldn’t you tell me…?” The penny dropped. “You’re investigating me?” she gasped.
A pained expression of guilt twisted his face and she knew she’d guessed correctly.
Her heart skipped a beat and then raced erratically. Once again she’d trusted a man and he’d lied to her. The betrayal caused a physical ache in her chest.
She tumbl
ed out of the car, crashing into Alyssa.
“Let me explain,” Tom said, jumping out of the car to follow her.
“Get inside, Jane,” Alyssa ordered, leaping between them. “He lied to you. There’s nothing else you need to know.”
“Jane, wait,” Tom called.
Turning her back on him, she raced up to her apartment door, jammed in her key, and slammed it shut behind her.
Through the door and the pouring rain she could hear Tom and Alyssa arguing, but she couldn’t make out the words.
Feeling like the world had just been pulled out from under her, she leaned her back against the door and slid down until she was sitting on the floor.
She’d thought Tom was special.
A shuddering sob ripped through her and she buried her head in her hands.
Calamity came and leaned against her. Jane would have liked to believe the mutt was offering her comfort, but the way things were going, she thought it more likely the dog was afraid of the rumbling thunder.
Chapter 13
Later that evening, after she’d calmed down a little, taken a hot shower, and dressed in fuzzy pajamas, Alyssa had ordered pizza. Explaining she had a meeting she couldn’t miss, she pressed the cash for the food into Jane’s limp fingers, and left, promising to return in a few hours to check on her.
When there was a knock at the door a minute after the door closed behind her, Jane assumed it was the food delivery. Instead, there was a stranger on her doorstep holding her purse. An amused smile played at the lips of the handsome blond man as he took in her footed rainbow PJs until Calamity, poking her head out from behind Jane’s legs began to growl.
He eyed the dog nervously. “Hi, Jane,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Brady, a friend of Tom Hanlon’s.”
“Any friend of Tom’s is an enemy of mine,” she retorted, refusing to shake his hand.
Brady frowned. “He asked me to return this to you.” He held up her purse, but didn’t offer it to her. “You left it in his car.”
Thinking of how Alyssa had interrupted their make-out session with her bombshell announcement, it wasn’t surprising she’d left her purse behind. It was, however, disturbing that she’d been so consumed with thoughts of Tom that she hadn’t even realized she’d forgotten it.
“Are you a P.I. too?”
“Naah, I’m a lawyer.” He flashed her an easy grin.
She got the impression he was someone accustomed to using charm to getting what he wanted.
“People hate us too,” Brady confided good-naturedly.
“Because you’re both professional liars?” Jane countered with a saccharine-sweet smile.
Brady’s grin slipped. “Look, I know Tom messed up, but he didn’t mean to hurt you. The guy’s crazy about you.”
“And how would you know that? Because the liar told you so?”
Brady frowned and silently held out her purse to her. She snatched it away from him.
She was going to slam the door in his face, but her good manners got the best of her. “Thank you. For returning this.”
“You’re welcome.” Brady glanced down the street, worry lines creasing his forehead as though he was wrestling with a tough decision. “Look, I know it’s none of my business and Tom would kill me for telling you this, but you’ve got to understand something about him.”
Jane hovered in the doorway, torn between wanting to hear what he had to say on his friend’s behalf and wanting to never hear Tom’s name again.
“His fiancée Meghan practically left him at the altar.” Brady rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words. “Which I personally thought was a blessing in disguise. He was lucky to be rid of the manipulative cheater, but Tommy didn’t see it that way. He was in a dark place for a long time afterward.”
Jane’s heart squeezed painfully.
“Meghan hurt him terribly and he’s had a hard time trusting anyone since,” Brady revealed in a rush. “Even me.”
Jane didn’t understand that last part.
“I think he got spooked when he met you. I mean, you had that instant connection, and I think that scared him. He’d decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life alone, and bam!” Brady clapped his palms together for emphasis. “You just blew that out of the water.”
Calamity growled louder, not liking the clapping.
“Sorry.” He looked down to apologize to the dog. When he looked back up at Jane, she could see worry shining in his eyes. “Look, I know Tom screwed up, but will you consider giving him another chance?”
Before she could reply, not that she knew what her answer would be, the pizza arrived.
“Delivery,” the teenager announced, waving the steaming food for emphasis.
Jane turned to get the money, and when she turned back, Tom’s friend was gone.
She paid for the pizza, knowing that Brady’s question was going to keep her up that night.
An hour later, there was another sharp knock on the door. This time Jane peered through the peephole to see who was outside. She was shocked to see Armani Vasquez on her doorstep.
She flung open the door. “What are you doing here?”
Armani ran her gaze up and down the rainbow footie pajamas. “I sensed my work with you wasn’t done. I see I was right.”
“How did you even find me?” Jane asked.
“I took your insurance claim, Chiquita,” Armani reminded her with a patient smile. “Your address is plastered all over it. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
While sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch, Armani finished the pizza dipped in pancake syrup, and Jane filled her in on all that had happened with Tom.
“So the dog likes him?” Armani asked as Jane reached the end of her long, involved story of heartbreak.
Jane blinked, stunned that that was the detail Armani chose to comment on.
Armani looked down at Calamity, who had growled at her for thirty minutes for no effect, but was now curled up in a ball snoring softly. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” Jane parroted. Before she could ask the psychic matchmaker what she meant by that, the doorbell rang, which resulted in Calamity jumping up and charging the front door, barking at the top of her lungs.
Unfurling herself from the couch, Jane hurried to answer the door. She let in Alyssa, who took one look at Armani and asked, “Who the hell is that?”
Armani, unperturbed, waved a greeting with her good hand. “Hi.”
Jane felt obligated to make a formal introduction. “Armani, this is my friend Alyssa. Alyssa, this is Armani, the matchmaker I told you about.”
Alyssa glared at Armani, looking like she’d like nothing better than to snap her in half like a Popsicle stick. “This is the person responsible for your heartbreak?”
Calamity didn’t like her foster mother being yelled at and growled loudly to tell Alyssa as much.
“I’m not heartbroken,” Jane protested, bending to pet the dog. “And even if I was, it would be Tom’s fault, not hers.”
“You wouldn’t have met Tom if it weren’t for her,” Alyssa reminded her.
“You have a very hostile aura,” Armani interjected. “Lots of shadows with slashes of red. Quite angry.”
“Oh shut up,” Alyssa snapped. “Save your mumbo jumbo for someone stupid enough to fall for it.”
“How did you two become friends?” Armani asked Jane calmly, ignoring Alyssa’s insult. “Your auras aren’t complimentary at all.”
“She moved in next door,” Jane replied.
“Ah.” Armani sighed. “Proximity. That explains it.”
“Explains what?” Jane asked.
Armani got to her feet. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you call him. I’m getting a very definite vibe you’re going to need to call him. Don’t hesitate to do it.”
She turned to Alyssa. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Alyssa blinked. “What?”
“Your loss. It was a terrible th
ing, but it wasn’t your fault.”
Alyssa balled her hands into her fists.
Jane, worried she was going to physically strike the psychic, jumped in between them. “Thanks for stopping by, Armani.”
“Call him,” the matchmaker insisted, limping toward the apartment door. Reaching it, she turned back to face them. “And you,” she said smiling benevolently at Alyssa who glowered back. “When you’re ready to get that straightened out”—she waved her hand in a large circle a couple of times—“come see me. It’s Armani Vasquez. Just remember Vasquez is worth twenty-eight points in Scrabble.”
Chapter 14
After a restless night, Tom was sitting in his office, glumly staring at his computer, hoping something about the string of burglaries would jump out at him. Nothing did.
But something did come through his door.
Armani Vasquez, wearing a low-cut top that proudly displayed her assets, limped into his office and sat in a chair without invitation. “You screwed up, Tom.”
“Good morning to you too,” Tom muttered, unsure of how he felt about the woman sitting opposite him. His life had been reasonably calm and content before he’d met her; now it was a disaster.
“Why didn’t you tell her?” Armani asked, twirling her dark hair around her index finger.
“I should have.”
“She would have understood.”
“But then she would have known from the beginning she was a suspect. I have a level of professionalism to maintain.”
Armani tilted her head to the side and stared at him like he was speaking Martian. “Que?”
“I couldn’t tell her that I was a private investigator. It could have blown my case.”
The woman waved her good hand dismissively. “I didn’t mean that. I mean why didn’t you tell her about the cheater?”
Tom sat back in his chair, shocked. “How do you know about that?”
“It’s written all over you.” She frowned. “That other stomped on your heart but good.” Sympathy welled in the psychic’s eyes like she could feel his pain.
