Pearls Gone Wild Page 8

  He’d spent his night on a red-eye so he could be with me. He had come straight here from the airport. He was standing in front of me, in the flesh. Not in Italy. Not with Amanda. And had he just said something about dinner?

  “Not that it’s not entertaining to watch you converse with the voices inside your head, but can you give me an indication of how long that’s going to last? I need to figure out if the chicken parmigiana is going to burn.”

  “You seriously cooked dinner?”

  “I seriously cooked dinner. Take off your coat, put away the weapon, and join me for a glass of wine.”

  I did as told, though not because I was good at taking directions. I was shaking and only some of it came from the terror in the closet. I’d seen Nick in a tuxedo and in jeans and he looked good either way. Today he was rumpled and he wore that well, too, like Indiana Jones in Italian adventure clothes.

  I tossed both the coat and the vacuum attachment onto the sofa, gave him a quick smile, and went upstairs to my bedroom. It wasn’t until after I returned, comfy in jeans, silk shirt, and cashmere socks that I joined him in the kitchen. There were a lot of questions I wanted to ask, and only a few of them had to do with dinner. Most of them ran along the why-are-you-home-so-soon? and did-Amanda-come-home-with-you? variety.

  Dinner, I was happy to discover, wasn’t just a box of pasta and a jar of readymade sauce. Instead, I was greeted with two plates of appetizers: melon wrapped in prosciutto and fresh sliced tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella garnished with basil and drizzled in olive oil.

  “Is all of this really in season?”

  “Do you really care?”

  Good point.

  I opened a bottle of wine while he tended to the deliciously smelling entrée.

  “You’re game for Chicken Parmigiana, right?”

  Secret rejoicing—except, “Did you put any green vegetables in it?”

  “Why would I put green vegetables in chicken parm?”

  “Never mind.” A few minutes went by while I sipped my wine.

  Nick moved around my kitchen as if he’d done it a hundred times. “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed in your reaction.”

  “To what, dinner? I’m totally impressed.” I’m not that stupid. I knew exactly what he was referring to.

  “To my being in your house.”

  “I’ve been trying to figure out a good way to broach that subject.”

  Just then, the Nick Phone rang. Being that Nick was the only one who knew the number, I didn’t answer. Nick picked up the phone and glanced at the display. He didn’t move for a moment. He set the phone down.

  I picked up the phone and turned it toward me. The missed call had come from “Hot Man.” I switched the ringer to off. “Telemarketer,” I said.

  “Sure.” Nick stood up and checked on the chicken.

  I grabbed the phone and went to the living room. I pressed the message replay button and held the phone to my head. “Sam, it’s Cat.” I relaxed ever so slightly. I couldn’t explain “Hot Man,” but I could explain Cat calling me. “I’m still at the store.” Papers rustled in the background. “Call me back. Okay? Soon.”

  I poked my head into the kitchen. “I need to check on Cat. It’ll only take me a minute.”

  Nick nodded his head but didn’t look at me.

  I called her at Catnip. “It’s Samantha,” I said.

  “I tried to call you at my house but you weren’t there. Where are you? And how come Dante has your new number and I don’t?”

  “I’m at home. I was going to get a change of clothes but Nick surprised me.”

  “I thought Nick was in Italy.”

  “That was the surprise. He’s here. He was here when I got here.”

  “Then where’s Dante?”

  “How should I know?”

  “He said he left something at your place. I thought he’d be there by now.”

  I froze. If what Cat was saying was true, there was a very good possibility that Dante was either on his way over or was already in the house.

  I looked over my shoulder. No Nick. I crossed the room and poked my head into the kitchen. He was bent over the oven peeking inside. “Everything okay in here?” I asked.

  “Yep. We have about half an hour until it’s done.” He closed the oven and came over to me. I held the phone face-in toward my shoulder. He put his arms around my waist and smiled. “I was thinking about taking a shower to freshen up before dinner.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I mean, sure, go ahead. You know where it is.”

  He moved his right hand up toward my face and cupped my chin. “Do you want to join me?”

  Before I could answer him, I realized that the tinny sound I heard was Cat’s voice coming from the phone. I stepped backward and held up my finger, and then put the phone to my head. “Cat, I gotta go.”

  I fumbled with the screen until I found the End Call button, and then set the phone (face down) on the counter behind me.

  “You go ahead,” I said. “I, um, wasn’t expecting company and my bedroom is a mess. Not that we’re going to be in the bedroom, but I should make sure there aren’t any panties lying around. Not that I throw my panties around. I mean—”

  Nick pressed his finger to my lips. “The clock is ticking. I’ll shower in the hall bathroom.” He removed his finger and leaned down and kissed me. I temporarily forgot about the Dante problem.

  The Dante Problem!

  Dante had spent the night and now he was on his way over to get something he’d forgotten. There had been no evidence of Dante in my living room or kitchen. What did he leave behind? And where was it?

  I waited as patiently as I could (not very) until I heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom at the top of the second floor landing. I crept up the first two stairs, and then a hand clamped over my mouth from behind. A second arm circled my waist and lifted me from the stairs, pulling me backward.

  15

  SUNDAY EVENING

  The strong arm around my waist pivoted and set me down on my living room floor. I spun around and looked at Dante. His hand was still over my mouth. He leaned close and the scent of cinnamon came off his breath.

  “If you don’t want Loverboy to find out I’m here, you better be quiet.”

  I grabbed his hand and pulled it away. “How did you get in here?”

  “I came in through your garage. I’ve been on the other side of that door for the past ten minutes.”

  “Then you heard…”

  “Yep.” He grinned. “I was hoping to hear more.”

  I glared at him. “What did you forget?”

  “My leather jacket.”

  “I’ve never once seen you without your leather jacket.”

  He shrugged. “Must be Freudian. You know, like my subconscious wanted an excuse to come back here.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In your bedroom.”

  “You slept in my bed?”

  “I told you it was cold. I thought being in your bed might warm me up.”

  “You have to leave. Now.”

  “I’ll leave as soon as I get my jacket.” He started up the stairs and I grabbed his arm.

  “No way, José. You go out front. I’ll get your jacket.” I yanked him backward (he barely budged), and charged up the stairs two at a time. His leather jacket was folded neatly on top of my pillow.

  Forgot, my ass.

  I pulled a pillow out of its case and stuffed the jacket inside and then threw it over my shoulder like Santa Claus. The water in the shower turned off. I ran downstairs and looked for Dante. He wasn’t there. I opened the front door and was hit with a blast of cool air. Cat’s car was parked in front of Nora’s house next door.

  Great. Dante had disappeared and I had his (recognizable) leather jacket in a pillow case in my house. Like that was going to be easy to explain. I tossed the pillow case out the front door and it landed in the bushes by the front porch. I shut the door just as Nick came down the
stairs. His hair was wet and he rubbed a towel against the side of his head.

  “It’s cold down here,” he said.

  “The pilot light keeps going off. I should check it. You wait here.” I ran past him and down the stairs to the cellar.

  Dante stood at the bottom of the stairs. His arms were crossed over his chest. He raised both eyebrows. “My jacket?”

  “It’s out front in the bushes. In a pillow case.” He stood watching me, not moving, not reacting. “I had to think fast. Nick finished with his shower and I didn’t want him to find you here.”

  “Why not? Nothing happened. Nothing’s happening. This…” he dropped his arms and moved away from the closet door “…is completely innocent. Right?” He gestured back and forth between us and walked straight toward me.

  I put my hand palm-side out. “Right. But still, you have to leave. Go out the garage door and be stealthy. And call your sister. She’s looking for you.”

  I returned to the kitchen. Nick had changed into a gray turtleneck sweater and brown slacks. His face was clean-shaven. He opened the oven and pulled out a clear Pyrex dish that immediate filled the room with the scent of tangy tomato, melted mozzarella cheese, and chicken. I temporarily lost track of everything in my life and closed my eyes, inhaling the scent. I could get used to this.

  An hour, half a bottle of wine, and the most spectacular dinner that had ever come from my kitchen later, I moved my napkin from my lap and set it next to my empty plate.

  “You have a choice. Coffee or ice cream,” I said.

  “You have room left for ice cream?”

  “I always have room for ice cream.” I smiled. “But, point taken. Coffee, it is.”

  Nick excused himself. As soon as he was out of the room, I grabbed my old phone and the Nick Phone and worked on syncing my contacts. One of these days I’d delete the numbers I no longer needed, but then again, you never know when you’ll be driving through New Jersey and want to call ahead to your favorite pizza joint to place an order. When the process was finished I called Cat.

  “Hi,” she said. “The store’s really busy so I can’t stay on the phone for too long. It’s like what happened gave me free publicity. Everybody wants to shop at the crazy lady’s store.”

  “Nobody thinks you’re crazy.”

  “I think I’m crazy. Why wouldn’t they?”

  It was hard to argue with logic like that. “Listen, about tonight, I think I’m going to stay here,” I said.

  “I figured as much, what with Nick coming home. Enjoy your time together. This is my problem, not yours.” She paused. “Maybe I’ll stay at the store overnight.”

  “Cat, I don’t think you should be pulling an all-nighter at the mall. What about Dante? His night should be wide open.”

  “He said he had plans.”

  “Trust me. His plans fell through. You are going to stay home and get a good night’s sleep in your own bed. You owe it to little Andy or—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence.”

  “You owe it to your baby. And Logan’s at your house. He’s very good at keeping people company.”

  “So you’re going to stay home with Nick tonight and we’re just going to cross our fingers that the store will be okay?”

  “Actually, I have something different in mind.” I hung up and poured two cups of coffee and turned around. Nick stood on the other side of the counter.

  “Is that decaf?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “It’s late. Coffee will keep us both awake. Not that I mind, but the time change is going to catch up with me sooner or later.”

  I handed him a mug. “Let’s hope for later. I just volunteered us for overnight surveillance.”

  “‘Overnight surveillance’? Sounds like fun.”

  “At the mall.”

  “You actually mean overnight surveillance? The mall has security guards and cameras for that.”

  “Yes, but we don’t know if we can trust the security guards and the cameras are on the opposite side of Cat’s store.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “I’m serious.” I ran my fingertips over his forearm. “I’ll make it worth your while…”

  He grinned. “I’m afraid to ask how.”

  Nick had, at times, opposed my involvement with the criminal element. He’d helped me out of one jam, fought with me over another. We’d broken up over it and gotten back together because of it. His agreeable nature tonight was only mildly suspicious.

  It didn’t really matter, though; one way or the other, the night would be fruitful. My late night investigation might turn up some new details for Cat, and I’d get to spend the night with Nick. Bonus points: because we’d be out of the house, he wouldn’t discover that Dante had slept in my bed last night.

  All in all, it was a win-win.

  16

  SUNDAY, 9:00P.M.-ISH

  Twenty minutes later Nick and I sat in the cab of his truck watching both customers and employees trickling out of the outlet center. We parked on the side where Cat would have exited; there was no reason for that other than it was the most familiar to me. If something happened on the backside of the building we would need a second night of investigation.

  Overnight surveillance was serious business. Before we left I changed from my jeans and silk blouse into a black cowl neck sweater, pink camo pants, and heavy black boots. So far Nick was being a trooper. My handbag did contain a Swiss army knife and an odd assortment of gadgets that I carried for potential emergencies just like this one so I still felt adequately prepared.

  “Bring me up to speed on this investigation,” he said.

  I couldn’t tell if he was taking me seriously or not, but filled him in on the highlights of the problem anyway: the smash and grab, Cat’s argument with George at the party, the burglar in the store, and George’s body behind the jewelry case.

  “If this was all about the jewelry theft, then why kill George? He left her earlier that night. Was he involved with someone else? Was this a crime of passion? But then was the smash and grab an odd case of timing?”

  “You really love this, don’t you?” Nick asked. “Not what happened, but this part. The questions and the evidence and the search for answers and justice.”

  “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “No. I can safely say that most women your age would not be sitting in the front seat of a truck conducting overnight surveillance on an outlet mall in forty-degree weather the week before Christmas.”

  “I guess that makes me unique.”

  “You’re telling me.” He reached across my lap and pulled a small black case out of the glove box. He waved his hands up and down the case like a magician prepping for a magic trick and then extracted a pair of binoculars from the case and handed them to me.

  “Do you always drive around with binoculars in your glove box?”

  “Only since I started dating you.”

  I held the binoculars up to my eyes. After a few seconds, I dropped them back to my lap. “Forty degrees?”

  “Somewhere around there.”

  “You didn’t happen to pack any blankets too, did you?”

  “When I planned to surprise you, I changed into clean clothes at the airport. I picked up the ingredients for dinner on the way to your house. I didn’t want to be presumptuous about what might happen after that—although if anything happened, I figured your house would have the necessary accoutrements.”

  “So no blankets.”

  “Next time I’ll be more prepared.”

  I checked the clock on the dash. The camping store was still open, and if the temperature dropped at a rate of two degrees an hour then by midnight it would be…I looked away from the clock. I’d never gotten the hang of those “two trains leave the station at the same time” math problems and this calculation was on par with that.

  I turned to Nick to see if he’d been watching. But despite sharing almost a full pot of coffee, Nick was asleep. His head was nestled between
the window and the side of his head rest. His arms were around his body. The cab of the truck was cool and, with no engine running, getting colder every second. I took off my coat and tucked it in around him. His eyes opened halfway and he made a sound that I interpreted as “thank you.”

  Jetlag may have driven Nick to doze off in the cab of the truck, but no coat, half a pot of coffee, and the responsibilities of a surveillance had left me wide awake.

  It was nine-thirty. I had about half an hour before the mall closed for the night. Half an hour to get to the camping store next to Cat’s to buy a blanket (and look for suspicious activity, because as far as cover stories went, the blanket ruse was pretty solid.)

  I hopped out of the truck and jogged through the parking lot toward the entrance. If we needed a flashlight, flare, or any other emergency items I would be sure to find an assortment in the camping store as well.

  I asked a grungy looking clerk for the location of the blankets and was sent to the back corner of the store. Still shivering from my walk through the parking lot, I added a propane heater to the pile, along with a thermos, flashlight, and a couple of pink metallic D-clamps. They seemed like the kind of thing I should have on hand in case of emergency.

  I headed toward the register. The same Hipster Hunter was working. I stacked my items on the counter and held out my credit card.

  “Is there any place around here where I can get some hot chocolate?” I asked.

  “There’s a chocolate stand by the department store at the end of the mall, but the cups are kiddie sized.”

  “I mean for the thermos.”

  “Oh. Head out the exit and turn right. Go past the novelty sock shop and turn left. They have hot chocolate at the coffee shop, but you better hurry. It’s closing time and nobody likes staying after hours.”

  When my shopping was complete, Hipster Hunter walked me to the door and pointed down the mall. He handed my bags to me and pulled the metal gate into place as soon as I left. I draped the handles of the shopping bags over my arms and walked as fast as I could considering I was now prepared for a polar expedition.