Jake grinned and took my hand in his.
“I meant, are you sure that’s what you were thinking,” he said. “You looked sort of far away.” I moved to grab my hand back and he tightened his grip. “Don’t you think it looks better if we at least act like we’re taking a friendly stroll?”
Jake stopped beneath the lone streetlamp on the block and pulled me into his chest. He cupped my chin with his hand, brought my face up to meet his lips and kissed me. It was not a stage kiss. It was deep, long and searching. It was a kiss that rekindled a hot flame inside my body and took away all thought of the winter temperature. I was suddenly on a beach in the Caribbean, too hot for comfort and yearning to strip off every stitch of clothing that prevented my skin from touching his. Damn. How did he do that?
When he pulled away, I gasped for breath, filling my lungs with cold air and trying desperately to maintain some sense of composure. My body was screaming for his touch and when he moved to continue our walk, I felt cheated.
“What was that?”
“Insurance,” he answered.
“Against?”
Jake grinned. “It’s double-indemnity insurance. If anyone’s watching, they think we’re two lovers looking for some time alone. If we’re truly alone, it’s a reminder of what I have in store for you later.”
He took my hand again and kept strolling down the sidewalk, following Lloyd as if he had no other agenda. My knees were shaking, but my mind had already jumped to payback mode. Okay, so it was a game to him. Well, I could play every bit as well as he did.
“But, Jake,” I said softly, “you don’t know what your touch does to me.”
He glanced over at me, uncertain. I widened my eyes and tried to look almost but not quite scared. He stopped and stared down into my eyes. My breath caught in my throat. My heart beat double-time as I reached for his collar and pulled his lips close to mine.
“I want you, Jake. I want to feel your skin on mine. I want to taste every inch of your body. I want to know what pleases you.”
And then I kissed him, biting his lip and sucking it gently, feeling the response that came washing over me like a tidal wave.
I pushed him away then and smiled. “Gotcha,” I murmured. “Just wanted to purchase a little bit of that insurance policy for myself.”
The slight moan that escaped his lips was my reward. Don’t play with me, Big Man. I’m more heat than you can handle. I cautioned him silently.
Lloyd suddenly broke into a run, sprinting for the beach at top speed. We hurried after him, the game forgotten as alarm bells began ringing in my head. When we crossed the dunes and the ocean came into view, I saw her. Fang was waiting for Lloyd down by the water’s edge, her silver coat gleaming in the moonlight, head thrown back, throat exposed as she uttered a long, beckoning howl.
“Lucky bastard,” Jake muttered.
I watched Lloyd rush to meet his girlfriend and had to agree with Jake. It was a dog’s life all right.
The two of us trailed after the dogs, slowly making our way along the outline of the shore toward Doug Hirshfield’s oceanfront home. We made a perfect picture to any outside observer, two couples enjoying a romantic romp along the beach, wrapped up in each other, not a care in the world.
The dogs circled back after we’d walked for close to ten minutes and stayed close, Lloyd following his Australian sheepdog roots to herd and Fang following him because it was probably a game to her.
“Shouldn’t we be close?” I asked.
Jake nodded and pointed to a streetlight at the end of a street. “I’ve been counting. This should be it. His house should be the third one on the left.”
I squinted, trying to see the details in the house. As we walked closer, I felt a twinge of disappointment. There was no sign that it was occupied. It looked like every other house along that row, closed for the season, windows boarded against the hurricanes of fall and the nor’ easters of winter.
Fang broke away and ran in a straight line toward the house, looking back and waiting briefly to make sure we were behind her.
“How does that dog always know where we’re going?” I asked.
Jake shrugged. “Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she’s just running to investigate.”
I didn’t buy it. Fang was smarter than most dogs. I didn’t think she ran without purpose and I didn’t for a minute think she didn’t know our destination.
When she ran up to the back door of the house and scratched at it, I knew she was trying to tell us something.
We stood in the shadows watching Fang whine and scratch, searching the surrounding lots and houses for any signs of surveillance. When my cell phone rang, I jumped.
“Hello?”
“Hey, beautiful,” Pete said. “I’ve got news.”
I looked at Jake, mouthed Pete’s name and shrugged.
“What?”
Pete’s tone deepened. “Where are you?” he asked.
I sighed, exasperated. This was so like him. “I’m walking along the beach. So what is it you wanted to tell me?”
“He’s right there, isn’t he?”
Another long sigh. “Yes.”
Pete chuckled. “So you can’t tell me how bad you miss me, huh, baby?”
Oh. My. God. What woman in her right mind would ever take Pete seriously? And what had ever make me think I was going to be the one to change him?
“Pete.”
“All right, all right. Don’t get huffy now, baby. I was just playing with you.”
“The news?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, remember when I said I hadn’t found a criminal record on your client’s sister yet?”
I stopped feeling impatient and began paying serious attention. “Yeah?”
“Well, I kept looking. She didn’t have a record in Glenn Ford or anywhere else in Pennsylvania, but she does have one in New Jersey.”
“Oh, really?”
Jake was inching closer to the beach house, leaving me behind to listen to Pete.
“Yeah. Petty shit mostly. A DWI, shoplifting to start and then she graduated up to a higher class of crime. They got her on embezzlement of a former employer. Looks like she was the bookkeeper for a dry-cleaning business. Anyway, she’s on probation for another year.”
So Tonya’s sister was a petty crook, so what?
“Well,” Pete said, “there is a little more.”
The man just loved hearing me beg.
“What else, Pete?”
“She’s working for a crook.”
I was stamping my feet in the sand, trying not to freeze, and growing steadily more impatient with my former boyfriend.
“Pete, can you just cut to the chase? I’m freezing. How do you know she’s working for a crook, and what’s she doing working for somebody with a record? Isn’t she breaking her probation?”
Pete chuckled. “I didn’t train no slouch, did I?” he crowed. “That’s right, sweetheart, she’s breaking her probation and they seem to know all about it. When I called, they gave me the name and address of the guy. When I ran him, he came back dirty. Now I’m thinking they would’ve done the same thing and checked their parolee’s employer, but maybe that’s just your bureaucratic machinery at work. Maybe they just haven’t gotten around to busting her yet.”
“What does this have to do with my client, Pete?”
I watched Jake disappear around the side of the house and felt my anxiety level slowly rise.
“Well, it all leads back to your client. You see, this Carla Bucknell has a sister, Tonya, and she has a record, too. Seems like she was a nurse for a while, only she got into trouble for taking the drugs she was supposed to be giving her patients. That cost her big time. No more nursing license. She refused rehab and they yanked her license. So you’re working for a junkie, baby.”
I sighed. So Tonya was into drugs; always a good motive for thievery.
“And your client’s sister works for a guy who’s got a reputation for supplying needy addicts with all the nose
candy they could ever want.”
How did Pete know all this?
“Who does she work for, Pete?”
There was silence as Pete enjoyed his moment.
“You do want me, don’t you, baby?” he murmured.
“Pete! Tell me who she works for!”
“All right, all right. God. Your client’s sister works for a mob guy named Joey Spagnazi. Ever hear of him?”
“Jesus.”
“I’m good, baby,” Pete laughed, “but not that good.” The phone was muffled for a moment and in the background I heard a female squeal and then Pete saying, “Hey, come back here.”
I flipped the phone shut, reopened it and cut the thing off before slipping it back into my coat pocket. So while some things became clearer to me, others became hopelessly entangled. Tonya was a junkie. Her sister worked for the alleged largest supplier of cocaine in southeastern Pennsylvania. And he claimed we had something he wanted. This all had to tie into Tonya, but how exactly?
Jake, Lloyd and Fang rounded the far corner of the house and began walking toward me. When he reached me, he shook his head.
“Nobody’s in there,” he said. “I doubt anyone’s been there in months. Let’s go.”
He started off but I grabbed his arm, detaining him.
“Don’t you want to know who that was on the phone?”
Jake pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck, blew on his hands and rubbed them briskly together.
“I know who it was. Pete, right?” I nodded. “Well, what did he want?”
When I finished telling Jake everything Pete had told me, he uttered a long, slow whistle.
“Good work for old Pete,” he said. “So Tonya’s a junkie and her sister, Carla, works for Joey Smack. Hmm. Wonder how this all comes together?”
He started walking. “Come on, it’s freezing out here. Let’s go home and think about this where it’s warm.”
I swallowed hard and started after him, the words someplace warm echoing in my head.
Spike and Nina were waiting for us in the living room when we returned. Behind them in the kitchen, Aunt Lucy again tinkered with beakers and Bunsen burners. When Lloyd entered the house with Fang trailing behind him, Aunt Lucy looked up and smiled.
“So you brought your friend, did you?” she asked Lloyd. “Good. I have treats for you both.”
Fang walked quietly to my aunt and nuzzled her hand. Aunt Lucy bent to stroke the huge dog’s head, murmuring gently into her ear as she did so. Lloyd, not wanting to be left out, nosed his way in between the two, insisting upon attention.
“Isn’t that just like a man?” Spike murmured.
“Hey, I object, Counselor,” Jake protested.
“Really?” I said.
Jake ignored me and headed for the jug of Chianti that sat out on the counter.
“Any takers?” he asked, and not one of us refused him.
The house was warm, the table lamps shedding a yellow glow that seemed to turn the shabby furniture cozy and make the entire atmosphere more like home. The four of us sat, sipping our wine, rehashing the evening’s events, and agreeing that we probably hadn’t caused Doug Hirshfield any danger by looking for him.
“He’s probably miles away from here, in some government facility for safekeeping,” Spike offered.
“I bet that Tonya’s looking to kill him,” Nina said. “I bet she lured him into bed with her and stole his government secrets. I bet she wants to kill him before he tells on her.”
Jake smiled behind her back. Nina’s analysis was simplistic, but probably true. Why else would Tonya be looking for him?
Jake built a fire in the fireplace and eventually we were all lulled into silence, listening to music that Nina picked out and played on the cottage’s antiquated sound system. Spike pulled Nina back into her arms, cradling her against her chest as they lay on the couch watching the orange flames dance across the logs.
Jake filled my glass again, walked to the armchair where I sat and perched on its arm. Neither of us said a word for what seemed like hours. Then, when I’d finished my wine, he reached over, took the glass from my hand and placed it gently on an end table.
He stood up, reached for my hand and pulled me up onto my feet.
Without a word, he turned and would have started for the stairs had I not stopped him. If I followed him like this, holding his hand, wouldn’t everyone know where we were going and what would happen after that?
He turned back, saw me glance at the others with a cautionary frown and nodded.
“You’re right,” he whispered, dropping my hand. “What was I thinking?”
My chest relaxed.
“Good night, everyone,” he said. “See you in the morning.”
I stopped breathing, saw Nina and Spike glance up briefly to offer their own good-nights and then return to their conversation beside the fire. Aunt Lucy was nowhere to be seen, and as Lloyd and Fang had also disappeared, I assumed she’d gone off to bed without me realizing it.
I felt my heart pounding in my ears, my feet seemed to blindly follow in Jake’s wake and I found myself walking up the stairs behind him.
When we reached the upstairs landing I stopped, yanking him to a halt.
“What are you doing? They’re going to think we’re…we’re going upstairs to… Jake, what will they think?”
He seemed unmoved by my protest. He smiled, enjoying my discomfort.
“Well, Stella,” he murmured, “I suppose they’ll think we’re going upstairs to make love. And since that is what we’re doing, they’d be right.”
I felt my face grow hot and my ears began to ring.
Jake took me by the shoulders, turned me to face him, and looked deep into my eyes. “Stella, you’re an adult woman. You lived with a man in Florida. Your cousin and her girlfriend don’t exactly expect you to be a virgin. It’s your life. It doesn’t matter what people think. What matters is what you feel is right and what you want.”
I nodded, my heart pounding in double-time.
“Stella,” Jake said, tipping my chin up so that my gaze met his. “Do you want me to make love to you?”
I swallowed, wishing he wasn’t forcing me to acknowledge my desire for him, wishing I could have him and still consider it a happy accident.
“Do you?” he whispered, his finger trailing a line of liquid fire down the side of my neck. “Do you want me to make love to you?” The finger slid down my chest, circled the side of my breast and rested gently on the tip of my hardened nipple.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Good,” he said, scratching the fabric of my blouse with his fingertip.
He moved his hand, encircling my waist, and brought the other hand down, sweeping me up into his arms and carrying me up the last few steps.
“Jake, put me down. What about your side? Jake!”
I am not a lightweight. Carrying me wasn’t like you see on TV where the little pixie is scooped up by the burly pirate. Still, he made it seem effortless. He stepped into our bedroom, kicked the door shut with his heel and walked with me to the bedside.
“Don’t move,” he ordered.
“But I—”
Jake’s eyes darkened. He sat down beside me on the bed, leaned over to kiss me, then asked, “Stella, do you trust me?”
I nodded, but he didn’t seem at all satisfied with my answer. “I don’t think you do,” he murmured. “I hurt you a long time ago, but you carried it with you for years. You were still mad when you saw me for the first time in over ten years. Why would you trust me now?”
“Because I know you’re different now,” I said. “We were kids. I was…wrong.”
He raised one skeptical eyebrow. “Really? Then why would you trust another man after Pete? He cheated on you. Why trust me?”
What was he doing, trying to talk me out of this? I frowned at him.
Jake sat back, watching the conflicting emotions spin their way to the surface. He leaned over me, his eyes melting into mi
ne and said, “Stella, if I take you now, your way, you’ll hide behind your little glass wall and only taste the surface pleasure. That’s not enough for me.”
I tried to rise up, but his hand held me down, giving me no other option but to face him.
“This is something, coming from you,” I said. “Aren’t you the King of One Day At a Time? Didn’t you say you didn’t want any commitments? Isn’t this just a passing indulgence? Surely that hasn’t changed?”
Jake didn’t break his gaze. His eyes seemed to bore deeper into my soul, making me suddenly afraid to hear his answer.
“Stella Luna, you frighten me,” he said at last. “You have a way of sliding under my skin and touching my heart. For some reason, you continue to stick with me and I don’t buy that it’s just good business. I think you know as well as I do that there is a bond between the two of us that has been there for years, waiting for its opportunity.”
He was watching me, gauging my reaction to his words, and when he didn’t see disagreement, he forged ahead.
“I don’t know what that bond will become in the future, and I don’t want to ever hurt you intentionally, but I do want to discover you. I want to bring out the woman I know is hiding behind the wall. I want to make love to you as you should be loved. I want to feel your body shed its defenses and give itself over to something far more intense than some redneck cop can provide. I just don’t know if you’re ready for that. I don’t know if you can put yourself into my hands long enough to enjoy receiving.”
“That’s not true,” I cried. From nowhere, hot tears sprang to my eyes and I wanted to disappear from his intense scrutiny.
“Isn’t it? You ran from Glenn Ford after I hurt you. You ran back when Pete hurt you. Don’t you think I see that?”
Damn him. The tears flowed in a steady stream down my face, across my neck, dripping onto the sheets behind me.
“Stella, shh,” he soothed. “I’m not saying you’re broken, or even that running is wrong. I’m saying I don’t blame you for defending yourself. I’m saying I want to love you, but I don’t know if you’re ready. I don’t want to be just another temporary fix, another sharp regret. If we make love and for some reason our relationship doesn’t last, I would not want you to look back and feel regret.”
Stella, Get Your Man Page 23
