Juan nodded. “Welcome to Texas.”
“Thank you. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Karina’s smile and tone were just a bit too flirty.
Shit! Was his sister-in-law trying to set him up?
“Yeah,” Juan said. “I’m going to…hang out with the guys.” He walked out, hoping when he got in the backyard, he’d find a Mr. Karina.
He didn’t. And the guilty looks his brother and Christina’s brother, Leo, shot him were pure apology. He walked up to them and frowned.
“Shit! What happened to your face?” Ricky asked as he turned a steak.
“It’s nothing,” he said.
“Well, I’d hate to see the other guy,” Leo said.
“Yeah.” Juan looked back at his brother. “Tell me Karina being here isn’t some kind of setup.”
“I’m sorry.” Ricky held up a hand. “I wanted to warn you, but I like sleeping in my own bed.”
Leo chuckled. “And she’s hot.”
Linda called out to her husband, who went to see what he’d been summoned for.
Juan stood there, frowning at Ricky. His brother’s expression darkened. “Just play nice.”
“I’m not an asshole,” Juan said. “But it’s not going to work. First, I don’t like being played, and second, I’m…” He was going to say not ready, but after meeting his neighbor, he couldn’t say that with honesty. “I don’t like being played.”
“Christina worries about you. I worry about you. It’s been over three years.”
“I know how long it’s been. And if the time comes—”
“When,” his brother said. “When the time comes. Look, we loved Angie, too. But you’ve got to start living, brother.”
Juan exhaled. “When the time comes, it’ll be with someone I choose.”
“But Karina is hot and—”
“She probably is, but I didn’t notice, so you know what that means?”
“It means you gotta open your eyes.”
“My eyes are plenty open,” he said before he realized what that told his brother.
“Really? So you’ve met someone.”
Juan’s frown tightened. “I’ve noticed someone.”
“But you haven’t met her?” Ricky lifted a confused brow. “What are you, back to Playboy magazine? Or is she one of those online pay-per-minute—”
Juan shut him down with a scowl. “I’ve met her. But it’s not…It’ll happen when and if it’s right.” Saying that aloud had his chest feeling suddenly hollow. Was he really considering this? Was it possible when he still loved Angie so much that he didn’t feel whole without her?
“Who is she?” Ricky asked.
Christina walked out onto the patio. “Your brother brought me wine and flowers.”
Ricky pointed the spatula at him. “Why do you always have to make me look bad?”
“You shouldn’t make it so easy,” he said.
Christina looped her arm with Juan’s. “What do you think of Karina?”
“He’s already met someone,” Ricky spoke up.
“Who?” Christina’s grip tightened. “When are we going to meet her?”
“It’s not…We’re not…” Shit. How could he make sense of something he didn’t understand himself?
* * *
“It’s going to hurt. No medicine.” Tears filled Bell’s eyes as Vicki studied her niece’s scratched knee.
“Honey, we need to get the germs out. It’s just peroxide. Not alcohol. It’s the kind that bubbles up.” Vicki had Bell sitting on the side of the tub, blood running down her knee.
Bell had seen another little girl about her age playing across the street, and in hopes of making a friend, she’d begged to go outside and ride her bike. Unfortunately, the other girl had gone inside and after only the first trek down the sidewalk, Bell had hit a rock and fallen off the bike.
Vicki swiped Bell’s bangs off her brow. “I promise it won’t sting.”
“Pinky promise?” Bell’s voice shook and she lifted her hand.
Linking her smallest finger with Bell’s, Vicki was yanked back to her own childhood. To all the pinky promises she’d made with Alison. Two years older than Alison, Vicki had taken her role of big sister seriously.
“Come on, Alison. Get out.” Vicki opened their bedroom window.
“I hate hiding in the shed,” Alison pleaded. “There’s spiders in there.”
“They’re good spiders. They won’t bite. And if I see a bad one, I’ll kill it.”
“Promise?” Alison asked. “Pinky promise?”
Vicki locked her pinky with Alison’s. Then, carrying a blanket and pillow, they crawled out and crept across the backyard to the shed where their dead father’s old lawnmower and tools were.
Vicki, only nine, was scared of spiders, too. But she knew that she could step on a spider. She couldn’t protect Alison from the drunk two-legged monster her mom had brought home. And the last time he’d been there, Vicki had woken up to him standing in their bedroom.
She didn’t really understand what the man had been doing, his hand in his pants, but she was smart enough to know it wasn’t good.
Pulling out of the past, she poured the peroxide on Bell’s knee. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Vicki asked.
“Not too bad.” Bell looked down at her knee. “I wish that little girl would have stayed outside.”
“I know. But it’s getting dark.”
Bell frowned. “I wish I had a sister like you had my mom. Mama said you two were best friends.”
“Yeah, we were.”
“Do you miss her as much as I do?” Bell asked, and got tears in her eyes again.
“Yeah. I do.”
* * *
Two hours later, Juan left his brother’s. As he drove to the Henley place, he conceded that everyone was right. Karina was pretty. And nice. To her credit, when she got a good look at the right side of his face, she didn’t flinch. Obviously, she’d been warned.
But as pretty and nice as she was, he simply wasn’t interested. And for the rest of the party, instead of working on being a good conversationalist, he found himself thinking about the woman who had interested him. He even snuck away to check and see if he’d gotten any more messages from the Myspace connections.
It was almost eight when Juan arrived at the Henley house. He wasn’t sure if speaking to Mr. Henley, Cindy Bates’s former landlord, would give him any more information to help find her, but he needed to exhaust all leads. His gut said Cindy held the clue to what happened to Abby Noel.
He knocked on the Henleys’ door. A boy around the age of eight opened it.
“Hi. Is your mom or dad home?”
“Yeah.” The boy stared up at Juan. At his scar.
“Who is it?” a woman asked.
The boy didn’t answer.
The woman appeared at the door.
“I’m Detective Acosta. I spoke to you earlier.”
“Yeah.” She met his gaze, then did the normal cut of the eyes away.
“What happened to your face?” the boy blurted out.
“Tommy!” the mom scolded.
Juan said, “I was in an accident.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Tommy!” the woman reprimanded the boy again.
Juan gave the woman a smile. “It’s okay. I have a nephew his age.” He looked at Tommy. “Hurt like the devil.”
“My husband is cleaning fish in the backyard. Come on back.”
Juan followed her into the backyard.
“Hon, the cop is here.”
The man turned away from a table where he was cleaning his catch.
“I’m Detective Juan Acosta.”
“Yeah, my wife told me she found the note and card and called you. I’m glad. The chick freaked me out.”
“When did she show up?”
“Two days ago. Tommy saw her from the living room window just sitting on the swing.” He motioned to the yard. “I came out and s
he was…acting really strange.”
“Did she say anything?”
“I asked what she wanted and she told me that she used to live here, and I told her I knew that because I was the one who rented the house to her.” He poked at another fish with his knife. “She just sat there swinging like she had all day. I told her she was going to have to leave. She got upset and said I didn’t appreciate all she’d done for the place. Said I owed her five hundred dollars.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I reminded her that it was five years ago and I’d given her deposit back. And told her I never asked her to do any of the upgrades.”
“Did she do a lot of work?”
“She painted, added a cabinet in the bathroom, and did some landscaping. And yeah, she was the one who bought the swing. But she left it here. I mean, if she’d insisted that she wanted it back, then I’d have let her take the swing, but I’m telling you, I don’t think she was all there. She looked like she’d been crying.”
Juan glanced at the swing. It wasn’t that expensive. Not that it didn’t look nice beneath the big magnolia tree in the front corner of the garden.
“She didn’t say anything else?”
“No.”
“Well, if she shows up again, make sure you call me.” Juan handed the man another card.
None of this added up. Why was Cindy Bates acting so strangely, and could it all be connected to Abby Noel’s disappearance?
* * *
When Juan pulled into his driveway later that night, he noticed a light on in Nikki’s living room. The thought of taking her glass and a new bottle of wine over to her house crossed his mind, but his gut said it’d be pushing it. So did his heart.
Still, when Sweetie darted out the door, he stepped outside, stood there listening, hoping he’d hear Nikki in her backyard. No such luck.
So he left the dog to her business and checked again to see if he’d gotten anything new from any of the possible Myspace connections. He hadn’t.
The Noel file rested beside his computer. He hadn’t gotten shit on her, either. His gut still said that Bates held the secret to solving the Noel case. He pulled out the emergency contact number he’d squeezed out of the manager of the Black Diamond. At this hour, he questioned if he should wait until the morning.
Remembering Henley saying how strangely Bates had behaved, he decided the late-night intrusion might be merited.
The call went straight to voice mail. He left his name, said he was a detective trying to reach Cindy Bates. It was tempting to add something about his concern for Bates’s well-being, but that felt like a bit too much.
He hung up, put the beer he’d bought for Sunday’s poker party in the fridge, and then dropped into his chair. That’s when he realized Sweetie hadn’t come scratching on the door. He walked into the backyard. He called once. Twice.
“Shit!” he said. She had to have found another way into Nikki’s yard. He considered jumping the fence, but based on what happened last time he’d entered without an invite, he took off back into his house.
He grabbed Nikki’s glass and one of the bottles of wine he’d purchased and headed next door.
Chapter Eight
Vicki was on the couch, deep in the world of her romance novel, when her doorbell chimed. Seeing it was after eleven, she went straight to panic. Who could it be?
She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, punched in 911, but didn’t hit dial. One step closer to her front door and she heard the bark coming from her back patio. Panic fading, she peered out the front window and saw Juan standing on her porch.
As she opened the door, a line from the novel tiptoed across her mind: She found herself wishing she’d met this man at a different time. A different place—like in Alabama, when her life wasn’t one big question mark.
Vicki had never lived in Alabama, but replace it with California and…
“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t wake up Bell,” he said the second she opened the door, and then he handed her a bottle of wine and her glass. “Sweetie got out again.”
Her gaze spilled over his wide chest. Another line from the book whispered across her memory. “I’m actually really good at sex.” She’d bet Juan was better than good.
Sweetie’s bark at her back door pulled her mind to the present. She stepped back. He stepped in. “I thought you fixed the fence.”
“I did. But there must be another hole. I was going to jump the fence, but after last time, that didn’t seem like a good idea.” He offered another apologetic shrug and soft grin. One that came off sexy. “I do learn from my mistakes.”
Rattled by her sensual mood, she looked at the bottle of wine, surprised it was the same one she’d been drinking last night. “And this?”
“An apology gift? I saw it at the store today and bought a couple of bottles.”
“That’s sweet, but you didn’t have to do that.” She held the bottle out to him. He didn’t take it back. Sweetie barked again. Vicki went to let her in.
The dog bounced through the door, cocked her head and looked at Juan, then ran to Vicki. Vicki set the wine down on the coffee table and picked up the dancing poodle. “So you’re a little escape artist.”
“I think you’ve stolen my dog,” Juan said.
“I’m sure it’s Bell,” Vicki said. “She feeds her marshmallows.”
“Yeah, but I’m betting she likes women more than men.” He motioned to the metal detector leaning against the wall beside the back door. “Did you find your necklace?”
“No. I was going to look some more tomorrow, but you can take back the detector if you need it.”
“No. I was…going to suggest we try again. I’m completely free. Now.”
Now? The word no sat on the tip of her tongue. All she had to do was…
“We could open the bottle, grab another glass, and try to find the necklace. One glass,” he said, as if he could read her reservations.
Logic said this wasn’t wise. But everything else said yes. Yes to finding her necklace. Yes to not spending the rest of the evening alone. “I…” She looked at the clock on the wall.
“It’s Saturday night. And since I’m the reason you lost the necklace, it’s only fair that I help you find it.” His gaze stayed on her face.
“One glass,” she said.
He smiled. “Why don’t you pour, and I’ll start looking for the necklace?”
She offered the smallest of nods, watched him pick up the metal detector and walk outside.
Still snuggling his dog, she stood there a good thirty seconds. The dog tilted her muzzle back and licked her across the cheek. “Okay, a glass of wine. A little conversation. No harm done, right?”
* * *
Seeing Nikki walk out with two glasses and a flashlight under her arm had him recalling what he’d told his brother. I’ve met her. But it’s not…It’ll happen when and if it’s right. He hadn’t decided if it was right, but there was something about her that made him feel alive again.
Did she feel it, too? Maybe. She’d agreed to let him help her find the necklace. Not that he hadn’t seen her hesitancy. In fact, when she’d first opened that door, he could swear he saw fear in her eyes. He supposed a doorbell late at night could put any woman on alert, but again his instinct said it was more.
Sweetie darted out behind her. “Tomorrow I’ll find out where she snuck through.”
Nikki nodded. He moved in and set the metal detector against the lawn chair she’d been using last night.
He took a glass from her, brought it to his lips, and took a slow sip. “You know, there are forty-dollar bottles that don’t carry this much character. It’s fruit forward. A slow finish. Chocolate and blueberry, or maybe raspberry, but with just enough toasted oak that it adds to the flavor and doesn’t overpower it. And it has great fingers, too.” He twirled the glass and looked at it.
“Wow. You know your wine,” she said.
“No. I’m a complete fake. Just repeating what
my sister-in-law said about it tonight. I have no idea what ‘slow finish’ or ‘fruit forward’ mean. I have no idea how wine can have fingers. And when I think about toasted oak, I think of toasted oats and Cheerios.”
Nikki laughed.
He let himself savor the sound before speaking. “I had dinner at my brother’s tonight. My sister-in-law, Christina, is a complete wine snob. One of her life missions is to find a great cheap wine. I think you might have helped her accomplish that. When I left, she was sending my brother out to pick up a case.”
“The same sister-in-law who works at Finally Fit?”
“Yup.”
She nodded. “Well, I’d never tried the wine until last night. But I’d heard about the winery, so I picked up a bottle. She’s right. It’s good.”
“So you’re a wine connoisseur?” he asked.
“Maybe a bit more than you are. But not by much.”
He stared at the wine. “Well, I think I should probably go pick up some more bottles. She belongs to a wine club and every store in town is liable to sell out once she tells her friends about it.”
She smiled and silence fell. “So you have a brother?”
“Yeah. You? You have siblings?”
Her gaze immediately shot to the left as if she needed to think about the question. And it wasn’t a think-about-it kind of question. He sipped his wine and stared at her over the rim of the glass. What all are you hiding, Nikki? And why?
“No. Only child.” She reached for the metal detector and moved into the yard. He picked up the flashlight and followed her, shining light on the ground as she waved the detector over the grass.
“You have other siblings?” she asked, almost to fill the silence.
“Nope. Just one brother.” Sweetie curled up on the lounge chair as if to nap.
“Older? Younger?”
“Older, by eight years,” he said.
“You close?”
“Yeah. We’re it when it comes to family.”
She stopped and looked up. “He have kids?”
“Yeah. Two boys. Eight and six. Full of life, mischief, armpit sounds, and pet lizards and snakes. They give Christina a run for her money.”
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