Stella, Get Your Man

Home > Other > Stella, Get Your Man > Page 8
Stella, Get Your Man Page 8

by Nancy Bartholomew


  I scanned the shoreline ahead of us, searching for a sign of Lloyd. Where had that dog disappeared to, and had the other dog hurt him?

  As if hearing my thoughts, two blurs appeared in the distance ahead of us, running across the sand, then up toward the houses that lined the beach.

  “Look! There he is!”

  I started off in Lloyd’s direction, aware that Jake lagged behind. When I turned to hurry him up, I stopped, surprised to see the grimace of pain that momentarily contorted Jake’s features.

  “Hey, you all right?”

  The grimace was replaced by a quick smile that I knew took effort. “Never better.”

  “You’re hurting. You want me to go get the car for you?”

  Jake shook his head emphatically. “Isn’t that Lloyd?” He nodded toward a large house that sat oceanfront. As we drew closer I could see Lloyd standing at the foot of a large Victorian. The big dog stood watching Lloyd from the shadows of the home’s wraparound porch, his eyes glowing like marbles in the darkness.

  “Lloyd! Come here!”

  I kept my eye on the big dog and closed the gap between myself and Lloyd, fumbling in my pocket for his leash and cursing myself for not putting him on it in the first place.

  Lloyd’s tail was wagging, his attention completely taken by the other animal. He barked a friendly Lloyd bark and the other dog whined in return.

  I looked at Jake. “You don’t think they like each other, do you?”

  Jake smiled. “What’s not to like? Lloyd’s a pleasant enough fella.”

  I scowled. “Not like that! I mean, that wolf-looking thing isn’t going to attack Lloyd, is he?”

  Jake stared up at the porch and smiled. “I knew what you meant. All I’m saying is love has made stranger pairings than these two.”

  I must’ve looked confused because he added. “That isn’t a he-dog, it’s a she.”

  Lloyd’s tongue hung out of his mouth and he was panting when I reached down to snap the lead to his collar.

  I looked up at the big dog and sighed. “Lloyd, she’s way out of your league. For one thing, you’d need a ladder to—”

  The words died in my throat. What was I doing, explaining basic doggie sex education to a dog? Like he could understand me? I shook my head. The cold had obviously gotten the better of my brain.

  “Come on, it’s late. Let’s get you home.” I glanced at Jake. “You sure you can make it? It wouldn’t take five minutes to get the car.”

  Jake wouldn’t have it. He insisted on walking the five or six blocks back to the cottage but his face was pale by the time he climbed the steps to the front door. His pace had slowed even more after reaching the sidewalk and he hadn’t spoken since leaving the crime scene. As I stood beneath the front porch light, fumbling to put the key in the lock, I could see beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. His skin looked almost gray and it was obvious from the way he favored his left side that he was in pain.

  “We’d better get you to bed,” I said, swinging open the door and holding it wide for him.

  “I’m fine,” he said, but his voice barely rose above a whisper.

  The cottage was quiet and the only light still burning came from the hood over the stove. Lloyd padded out into the living room and licked my hand.

  “They all go to bed?” I asked.

  Lloyd gave me another quick slurp, then retreated down the hallway toward Aunt Lucy’s bedroom.

  “Guess that’s a yes,” I muttered.

  Jake leaned with his back against the front door and closed his eyes.

  “Think you can make it upstairs?” I asked.

  He nodded but didn’t make an attempt to move. I reached out and took his arm, pulling him gently toward the steps. I saw him wince, then bite down on his lower lip.

  “Pain meds wore off, huh?”

  He nodded.

  “All right, well, let me get you into bed and I’ll go bring you water and another pill.”

  A faint smile crossed Jake’s lips. “About time,” he whispered.

  “About time?” I echoed.

  “Yeah. About time you dragged me off to bed. I knew you couldn’t resist me, ever since this afternoon. You can’t get me out of your head, huh?”

  “In your dreams, Carpenter!” I answered.

  “Mmm,” he sighed. “Yeah, that, too, dreams.”

  We reached the top of the steps and I looked down the hallway. Nina and Spike had taken the room with the queen-size bed, leaving the room with the two doubles for me and Jake. Thank God.

  Jake was making the trip under his own power, but it was clear to me he wouldn’t last much longer. I rounded the corner into the bedroom and slowly guided him down onto the bed.

  “I’ll go get you a glass of water,” I said.

  “I’ll be waiting.” He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed, an expectant smile plastered across his face.

  I fled downstairs to the kitchen where I poured a short tumbler full of Aunt Lucy’s Chianti and filled another tumbler with water. I grabbed Jake’s bag, a green army duffel, and half ran back upstairs.

  “I didn’t want to go through your things—” I stopped mid-sentence. A pair of boots, faded jeans and a T-shirt lay in a clump on the floor beside the bed. Jake, bare-chested and probably naked, lay under a thin blanket in the bed where I’d left him. He was sleeping.

  I stood there, the wine in one hand, the water and his bag in the other, and wondered if I should wake him just to give him a pain pill so he could sleep. Probably not. I took a swig of Chianti and leaned against the doorjamb, studying the curve of Jake’s mouth, the hard angles and planes of his face and the way the lines of his neck blended into the strong muscles of his shoulders.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and remembered the feel of his work-roughened fingers on my breasts. A thrill of pleasure and excitement surged through my body and I quickly opened my eyes to shut out the feelings that accompanied the memory. No. No Jake. No passion. No romance. Work. We were here to work, not play, and definitely not to open a new can of whoop-ass relationship.

  I walked out of the room and left him sleeping. I wandered downstairs into the darkened living room, and stood by the bay window in the kitchen, staring out at the deserted sidewalk and beyond that to the water. From my vantage point, it all looked so peaceful, but I knew, barely out of my line of sight, a forensics team still scoured the beach, trying to piece together the story of the dead woman’s identity.

  By nearly 3:00 a.m. I still wasn’t at all sleepy. I poured a second glass of Chianti and returned to my watch by the window. At some point, Lloyd joined me. For a little while the two of us stood there, studying the blank square of concrete beneath the streetlight. When he’d had enough, Lloyd padded to the door and scratched to go out. When I didn’t respond, he whined.

  “No, way, dog. You’ve had enough action for one night.”

  Lloyd moaned his disagreement. “It’ll never work. For one thing, she’s too tall for you. For another, she’s vicious, like the black widow spider of dogs. If you were lucky enough to gain access, she’d probably suck your blood dry afterward.”

  Lloyd moaned again and stared up at me. He was grinning.

  “Just like a man,” I muttered.

  Lloyd didn’t want to hear it. He flopped down on the cold, vinyl floor, his chin propped up on the bay-window frame, and stared after his beloved.

  “Okay, be that way,” I said, “but I’m going to bed.”

  I left him there and headed upstairs. Jake was snoring softly when I tiptoed back into the bedroom. I stood there, watching him sleep for a moment and then realized I was the only one who’d come to the Shore totally unprepared. The others had grabbed toothbrushes and a few quick changes of clothing, but I’d been in too much of a hurry to even stop on the way and buy anything.

  “Damn!”

  I walked into the upstairs bathroom, borrowed Nina’s toothpaste and brushed my teeth with my index finger, but this still left me without pajamas.
I walked back into the bedroom and studied him again for a moment. He was definitely sound asleep and with as much activity as he’d had in one day, I very seriously doubted he’d be a threat to me anytime soon. Surely I could sleep in the vacant bed for just one night. Tomorrow night I’d take the downstairs couch, but tonight the bed just looked so inviting.

  I stripped down to my shirt and panties, hopped under the covers and closed my eyes. Tomorrow, I sleepily promised myself, it would all come together tomorrow.

  I fell asleep to the distant pounding of the waves against the beach and dreamed that night of Lloyd and Fang the wolf-dog, happily frolicking on the beach as body after body washed up onto the sand behind them.

  Chapter 6

  I awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. Bright sunlight flooded the bedroom and for a moment I lay in bed, disoriented. The bed beside me was empty, the covers neatly pulled up and tucked securely into the mattress. Jake was gone. A shock wave of memory flashed through my head as still photographs from the day before flooded into my head.

  What time was it? Where was everyone? I jerked the covers back, reached for my jeans and hastily pulled them on. The sound of voices drifted up from downstairs and I stumbled to the bathroom in a sleep-deprived fog. I brushed my teeth with my index finger and borrowed toothpaste, planning the day as I splashed water on my face and tried to tame my hair into something presentable.

  Spike looked up as I walked into the kitchen and smiled. She was sitting at the table, the newspaper neatly folded in half before her, reading and sipping coffee from a large brown mug.

  “Sounds like you and Jake had an eventful evening.”

  Aunt Lucy stood by the stove, frying bacon. When she saw me, she gestured to the coffeemaker to her left.

  “Always with the late nights,” she murmured.

  Jake and Nina were nowhere to be seen. I crossed to the coffeepot and pulled a mug from a cup hook above the counter.

  “Jake tell you about our adventure?”

  Spike chuckled. “Yeah, but only after I showed him this.” She gestured to the front page of the paper, sliding it toward me as I approached the table.

  There, splashed above the fold, was a huge color photograph of Surfside Isle’s finest, Jake and me, all huddled around a lump on the beach: Body Washes Ashore. Foul Play Suspected.

  “Oh, that’s great! Just what we need, publicity.”

  Spike waited in silence while I read the article. The redheaded reporter had done a thorough job reporting the grisly details. She referred to us as vacationing tourists and I mentally thanked Tom for not giving out our names.

  Nina blew through the front door just as I finished, weighted down with blue plastic bags and grinning triumphantly.

  “Oh, we are so prepared!” she said.

  “Is that it, honey, or do you need help unloading?” Spike met Nina at the kitchen entrance and took the bags from her, setting them down in a cluster on the counter.

  “That’s it. I got sweatshirts and pants for all of us, in black, of course, and a board with erasable markers. I even found tofu—we can put some in our omelettes!” She saw me and smiled. “I got you a couple of pairs of jeans and some other stuff. I figured you didn’t get a chance to grab anything when you left town, huh?”

  “Thanks!”

  Nina winked. “Don’t thank me! I took the money out of the petty-cash box before we left. We’re loaded!”

  “Tofu? What’s tofu?” Aunt Lucy had wandered over to inspect Nina’s purchases.

  “Bean curd,” Nina answered. “It’s an awesome source of vegetarian protein.”

  Aunt Lucy pulled a small white square out of a bag and stared at it. “Looks like a hunk of lard in dirty water,” she pronounced. “I’m not eating that!”

  Nina sniffed. “It’s very good for you. Totally fat free.”

  “Tasteless, you mean.” Aunt Lucy walked back over to the stove and began turning the bacon.

  “Where’s Jake?”

  I was only half trying to avert a skirmish between Aunt Lucy and Nina. If Jake was missing, it could only mean he was on the track of something way more interesting than the Tofu Wars. I was beginning to realize that I had Jake-dar. I had the ability to instinctively “know” Jake was on the track of something pertaining to our investigation, and there was no way I would let him get the upper hand.

  “He’s fishing, I think,” Nina answered. “I saw him leave early with his new rod and a bucket.”

  So much for instinct. Fishing. I sat at the table drinking coffee and fuming. We had work to do. The man had an injury and only so much energy; how could he waste it throwing fake minnows into the surf?

  On the second cup of coffee, I realized that Jake’s car was no longer in the driveway. Shit! Why didn’t I ever trust my instincts?

  I ran upstairs, grabbed my purse and the keys to Aunt Lucy’s Buick, and then double-timed it back downstairs.

  “I’ll be back,” I called.

  Nina ran after me. “Wait! Aren’t we going to make a plan for the day?”

  This stopped me momentarily. “Plan?”

  Nina’s foot tapped impatiently. “You know, we are on a case here. Don’t you want to meet as a team and decide who’s going to do what? See? Lack of planning!”

  Nina’s eyes darkened dangerously and I found myself scrambling for an out.

  “I’m all about the team effort, honey, that’s why I’m going to find Jake. He’s a part of this thing and I just can’t believe he’d run off and forget about it. That is so irresponsible!”

  Nina wasn’t having it. She shook her head. “No, I told him about the meeting and he said he was going to go clear his head so he could be focused on our work. He’ll be back by ten, he promised.”

  I looked at the clock on the wall behind her. He had eighteen minutes to reappear; only, I knew he’d blow Nina off entirely if a lead developed. Damn him! How could he run off without me?

  “Okay, well, um, I need to clear something up with him before we start. It’s about last night. I, uh, couldn’t begin to think about a mission statement when there’s negative energy between us.”

  I tried to look sincere. Nina was searching my face, trying to decide whether I was making up a story or being honest with her.

  “Ten o’clock,” she repeated ominously. “If you two aren’t here by ten…”

  “Nina, nothing means more to me than moving this agency forward. I’ll find him and get back here as fast as I can.”

  Nina nodded, but she wasn’t happy. I left her standing in the doorway staring after me as I unlocked Aunt Lucy’s car and slid behind the driver’s seat. I pulled out of the driveway and turned the car toward the beach. I knew Jake wasn’t there, but Nina didn’t.

  I drove to the end of the street anyway, scanned the almost empty parking lot and drove on toward the pier. When Jake’s car wasn’t there, either, I turned and headed for the main part of town. I found Jake’s car in the parking lot of Marti’s Café. I found Jake sitting at the counter next to Tom, kidding Marti and acting for all the world like a local.

  “There she is!” Marti called as I walked through the door. “Jake, here, said you’d be along shortly.”

  I shot Jake a curl-up-and-die glare, which Marti mistook for caffeine addiction. She slid a thick mug of coffee across the counter in my direction and smiled sympathetically.

  “Heard it was a long night for you guys. Want breakfast?”

  “No, thanks. We’re in kind of a rush.”

  Jake grinned and patted the stool next to him. “Aw, now, cuz, there’s nothin’ that won’t go better after a good, hearty breakfast.”

  If I could’ve squashed him like a bug, I would’ve done it and enjoyed myself. There he sat, serene, well-rested and obviously in the catbird seat. What was I supposed to do? What could I do? I slid onto the stool, looked at Marti and said, “I’ll have two eggs over easy, a side of crisp bacon, raisin toast and hash browns.”

  Marti leaned over to refill Tom’s mug
and whispered something in his ear before moving off toward the kitchen. Tom grinned after her, looked at the two of us for a second and called to Marti.

  “You’re on!”

  “Well, I guess you know how to have a hearty breakfast,” Jake said.

  I shrugged. “Well, it’s your funeral. Nina’s expecting you in five minutes, and you know how she hates to be kept waiting. I told her I’d come after you and try to make sure you showed up on time, but if you’re late, it’s you she’ll be looking for, not me.”

  Tom sat drinking his coffee, watching Marti through the kitchen pass-through and acting as if he wasn’t listening to our every word. By now I knew better than to dismiss him as a regular guy. Tom was a cop and cops are sneaky at best—trust me, I was one once.

  Jake was staring at me, still smiling, but his eyes were working on another message, a message I couldn’t quite read. He inclined his head ever so slightly toward Tom and I let the matter of Nina and our corporate mission statement drop. Jake was working, and even though we were going to have a long talk about running off like the Lone Ranger and leaving me in the dust, I had to back him up.

  Tom’s pager went off and he pulled it out, staring at the screen and frowning.

  “Duty calling?” Jake asked.

  Tom shook his head and popped the pager back into its holster. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and he looked tired. At some point he’d changed into dress pants, a sports coat, and a shirt and tie, but nothing about his outward appearance said police. Nothing, that is, until he lifted his arm and leaned forward to reach for the coffeepot. The black butt of a gun stuck out of its shoulder holster.

  He caught me staring at the gun and smiled. “Jake tells me you were on the job. Ever miss it?”

  My heart skipped a beat and I started wondering what else Jake had told Tom. It wasn’t as if we’d exactly discussed my earlier meeting with Tom, or planned our strategy. No, that would be entirely too efficient. That was why people like Nina organized meetings.

  “A little,” I answered.

  Tom smiled, but he was watching me like a cop. Jake intervened, laying one strong hand on mine and sending a shiver of sensation up my spine even though I was trying to stay completely focused on the game at hand.

 

‹ Prev