by India Ink
My spirits sank. Heddy had a nose for gossip that was more sensitive than a bloodhound’s. If she hadn’t picked up on anything useful, maybe my idea was a wild-goose chase. “Thanks, Heddy. It’s not quite what I was hoping for, but I appreciate your call.”
“Is something wrong? I heard through the grapevine that Lisa’s missing. Is that true?”
Great. Quid pro quo time, now. “Yes, she is. We aren’t sure where she went or even if she’s in trouble. That’s what we’re trying to find out. Maybe she took off with a friend for a few days and forgot to let anybody know.” I gracefully wormed my way through the rest of the conversation and cut it short. As I hung up, Barb came through the door.
“Hey, Jailbird!” She took off her coat and hung it in the closet. “What’s shaking?”
“What’s shaking with you? Who did you have dinner with?” My heart leapt, hoping it was Dorian. Maybe they’d patched things up.
Barb winked. “A very handsome man, but get your mind out of the gutter. And out of the clouds, for that matter. It wasn’t Dorian,” she said, and a wistful look spread over her face. “In fact, other than when he came over to find out what was going on at Venus Envy this afternoon, I haven’t talked to him since I left yesterday afternoon.”
“Who was your dinner date, then?” I asked, a little suspicious. Barb had been running on low self-esteem for months now, though for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Hitting her forties had been a shock for her, rather than a time of empowerment, and she was feeling the lack of her youth. She’d always looked a decade younger than she was, but now her worries over aging were catching up to her. I had the feeling that stress over a few problems in her marriage was more of a culprit than her actual age.
“Ari. He’s trying to play liaison.”
Ari was Dorian’s nephew, and he doted on Barb and Dorian. It made sense that he’d be doing everything in his power to convince them to make up. He’d come over from Greece wanting to widen his options, and Dorian put him to work. He was now one of the head bakers at the Baklava or Bust Bakery and had decided to make the family business his career. Dorian and Barb had promised him a partnership if he stuck it out for ten years and did a good job.
“What did he say?” I asked.
Barb gave me a smug look. “I guess Dorian confided in him that Mama Konstantinos is being a real bear now that I’m gone. She’s trying to tighten the apron strings, and without me there to take the heat, Dorian’s getting it full force. I think he’s remembering just why he left Greece in the first place. I’ll bide my time,” she added. “Give it a couple of days and see what happens. Meanwhile, you tell me what the hell happened today. I can’t believe Kyle arrested you!”
Auntie and I bade good-bye to Winthrop, then she yawned and headed toward the stairs. “I’m going to turn in early and read in bed, girls. You get some sleep, and no partying tonight!”
We laughed and waved her off, then curled up by the fire, surrounded by the dogs, most of the cats, and Hoffman, who clucked and pecked his way over to jump up on the footstool, then on the sofa. He settled down next to me with a satisfied shake of the feathers.
As we relaxed in front of the crackling flames, Barb’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. “Dorian. Should I?”
“Oh, why not? You can always hang up if he gets obnoxious.”
Frowning, she bit her lip, then answered the call. “Yeah, I’m here . . . Ari talked to you? He said what? Yes, that’s right . . . Dorian, you don’t know how rotten she makes me feel; you refuse to see it. No, don’t come over. I said no!”
She stared at the phone and hung up. “Dorian’s on his way. I told him no, but you know him. Let’s talk about something else. So tell me, how was jail?” Barb asked, exploring the potato chip bag.
I shook my head. “Wouldn’t know. Never saw the inside of a cell. I’m going to have to let Elliot off the hook on this one, at least in terms of civil court.” I told her what Winthrop had said, and she blanched.
“Persia, Elliot’s behavior is escalating. I’m worried. I didn’t used to think he was dangerous but now—who knows?”
Hoffman began to pick at his feathers, grooming himself, and I patted the big old bird on the butt. He gave me a sharp look, then went back to his bath. Across the room, Nalu perked up when he saw the rooster. Once in awhile he still attempted a coup on the critter, though Hoffman was handy with his beak and had never got more than a feather ruffled in one of their skirmishes. The dogs ignored the bird as if he was no more than a bug on the wall.
I considered the situation. Elliot, dangerous? Two weeks ago, I would have laughed her off, but today’s escapade heightened his threat factor. “I’ll talk to Kyle about him. Winthrop’s getting a restraining order, but you and I both know that doesn’t always work.” My cell phone rang. “Hold on, be right back,” I said, jumping up to get my purse. A glance at caller ID told me it was Killian.
“Hey, sweets, how’d the meeting go?” I asked as I punched the Talk button. I’d been too busy to worry about how he was doing, but now I held my breath, hoping to hear good news.
Killian whooped in my ear. “They love it! They’re willing to buy in. I wish I could do this on my own, I don’t like having partners, but their backing means I can start over now instead of waiting a couple of years to build up capital. So I’m back in business, baby.”
I whooped along with him. He’d been working so hard to recover from Bebe’s sabotage. “What’s next, then? When do you open the doors?”
“First, I make a trip to New York after Thanksgiving. Until then, I’m going to be tied up with lawyers here. I’ll be able to make it over for the holiday, but until then, I’m going to be swamped. You don’t mind, do you?”
I smiled. We had agreed that we wouldn’t be clingy, but lately we’d been asking each other, “Is it okay?” more than I wanted to admit. At this point, it wasn’t spooking me, and I hoped it wouldn’t become a problem.
“Not at all. You do what you have to. Are you staying in Seattle until Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah, that would be easiest. I can camp here at my brother’s place, and it will cut out the ferry commute. I’ll see you Thursday. I’ll come early. Want me to bring anything?” He sounded positively giddy.
I laughed. “Just your cute little butt. Stay here Thursday night?”
“Of course. That will give me Friday and Saturday to pack. So how was your day?”
I had a feeling anything I said would barely register, he was so excited. “I punched out my ex and got arrested. Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said. Before he could get another word out, I hurried to add, “Love you! See you Thursday,” and hung up. I grinned at Barbara, who laughed. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . .”
Ring. Yep, right on cue.
“What the hell did you say?” Killian was sputtering.
I snickered. “You heard me. I broke Elliot’s nose after he threw a handful of rocks through one of Venus Envy’s windows and got myself arrested. It’ll be okay. Winthrop’s sure he can work out a deal where Elliot will drop the charges. I’m fine, so don’t go all hyper on me.”
Silence. Then, “You take the cake. Life around you is never boring, I’ll give you that. So, Elliot’s in jail?”
“Unless he had the money to bail himself out, yeah. Honestly, I’m fine. Kyle had to take me in. He didn’t want to.”
“Sure he didn’t. I still think he wants to get in your pants.”
Hmm . . . jealousy? But Killian wasn’t petty. “I doubt it, considering he and Amy are courting. So please, don’t worry. I’ll see you Thursday for Thanksgiving. Come early enough, and we can catch the morning show in my bedroom.”
Killian grunted. “I’ll be there by nine. You be careful. And think about me tonight.” His voice was husky. “I’ll be thinking about you.”
As I closed my cell phone, my stomach told me that I’d be thinking about him more than just tonight. He was the best sex I’d ever had.
Barb cleared her throat. “You two really click, don’t you? So, he got the funding?”
I jumped up and danced around the room. “He got the funding! If things go right, he may be able to start his new business right after the new year. Betsy Sue and Julius will be so happy, but I’m not going to say a word for now until he tells them. It’s his place to do so. Also, I don’t want to jinx anything.”
“This kind of news calls for a drink. You have anything around to make daiquiris? Strawberry would be delish!” Barb giggled. Although her reasons for being here were regrettable, I was suddenly glad she was. It was like having our own private slumber party. It had been a long, long time since I’d had a girlfriend sleep over.
“Let’s go forage and see what we can find,” I said. We wandered into the kitchen. I opened the freezer and found the frozen berries and ice while Barbara got out two daiquiri glasses. “I’ve got to get the rum. I’ll be right back.”
I went into the living room and crossed to the liquor cabinet. As I opened the glass doors, there was a sound at the front door. “Barb, I think Dorian may be here,” I said as the kitchen phone rang. “Can you get the phone?”
“Sure,” she called back.
I opened the door. Hell and high water—Elliot was standing there, a crazy look in his eye. His face was swollen, his nose bandaged, and his lip was split, and for a moment all I could think was that I’d done a damned good number on the jerk. And then reality registered that this wasn’t a social call. I started to slam the door, but he shoved it open and backhanded me with a bone-chilling smack. At the same moment, Barb shouted something from the kitchen. I scrambled back, out of reach, before Elliot could hit me again.
“Barb! Call 911! It’s Elliot!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Elliot bellowed as Barb came racing into the living room, her eyes wide. He pulled out a revolver. I glanced at it and forced the panic down. If I screamed, it would only serve to enrage him.
Barb, on the other hand, began to shriek.
I thought I heard a creak on the stairs and turned to Barb. “Shut up!” I had to keep things quiet so Auntie wouldn’t walk in on us.
Elliot let out a low chuckle. “Calm down, Barbara. We don’t want you to have a heart attack. Or do we?” He sneered at me, and I looked into his eyes. They were a flood of flame and fury, and I knew that Elliot had lost it and that he’d come here to hurt me.
Chapter Nine
Elliot, put the gun down.” For years, I’d been training women in my self-defense classes to deal with circumstances like this. Only now it was me, and I was on the end of a crazy man’s gun.
Barb backed up, her eyes wide. “Oh my God . . . Elliot . . .”
“Just sit over there where I can see your hands,” he ordered her. She obeyed without comment.
“Elliot, let her go. You want me. I know that, and you know that. Just let Barb go upstairs.” I tried to avoid looking back at the stairs. I knew that I had heard Auntie moving around before Barb shrieked, but now it was still as a mouse.
“Shut up! You come over here,” he said, motioning to me with the gun. I slowly moved toward him, hands held where he could see them, trying not to startle him in any way. The last thing I needed to do was set him off while somebody else was in the room. Hell, I hoped to avoid setting him off while I was in the room. “You . . . you mess with my head, Persia. You messed with me real good, and you shouldn’t have! You deserted me when I needed you, and then you treat me like a piece of dirt!”
I took a slow breath and, keeping my voice as even as I could, said, “Elliot, you embezzled money. You lied to me. What did you expect me to do?” Maybe not the best answer in the world, but he wouldn’t believe me if I turned tail now and pretended to still love him.
“You should have stuck by me. You should have waited for me,” he said, his voice cracking. “You were mine, you were all mine.”
I blinked. Not once had I made a firm commitment to Elliot, nor had he asked for one. Not once in all the years we were together had we planned out our future together. We’d taken things one day at a time. Apparently when his world shattered, so did his common sense. And he had only his own greed to thank for it. I couldn’t feel sorry for him; he was too pathetic.
“What do you want, Elliot? Why did you come here? Why do you have that gun?” I sidestepped a footstool and kept inching forward.
He swallowed, looking dazed. I had the feeling he hadn’t seen the dry side of sober in days, perhaps weeks. Elliot had always been weak, but now he was wallowing in self-pity. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. He was just sorry he’d gotten caught.
He waited until I was near enough and then reached for my hand. I hesitantly held out my wrist. If I’d been alone, I would have taken a chance and fought him off. But with Barb present, I couldn’t risk him shooting her by accident. Or out of spite.
Elliot grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him, glomming against me. He was breathing heavily, and from the smell of the stains on his shirt, he’d drunk more than his share of stale beer. He planted a wet one on my lips, and my stomach lurched. At one time, we’d had a reasonably good love life. Now, his touch revolted me.
“You come with me, baby. You’re going to make it up to me for all the crap you’ve put me through. You just come with me, and your aunt and your friend won’t get hurt.” He waved the gun in Barb’s direction. “Don’t you go calling the cops. If that damned cop comes near me again, I’ll shoot him.”
Barb nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line. As Elliot turned me toward the door, there was a sudden crash, and Kyle came rushing in from the kitchen, gun drawn. He took in the situation immediately and slowly took aim at Elliot.
“Drop the gun, Parker. Drop it now, and you can walk away from this,” Kyle said. I could see the tension clenching his jaw, and he looked at me. I didn’t dare let my guard down, didn’t dare show fear, or Elliot would use that to his advantage. He was in back of me now, his arm around my waist and the barrel of his pistol pointed at my face.
“Put your gun down, Laughlin, or I’ll shoot her. What have I got to lose? You arrest me, and I’m headed back to prison anyway.” Elliot’s voice had taken on a surreal quality, and I inhaled deeply. Sweat and musk and the ever-present beer mingled to create a stench that made me want to gag.
Kyle quietly lowered his gun and set it on the coffee table. He stepped back, his hands up. “Don’t hurt her.”
Elliot snorted. “Don’t worry, that’s not in my plans. Yet,” he said, backing me up toward the door, his eyes trained on Kyle. I tried to gauge my chances if I resisted. Not good, not good at all. Elliot was at his breaking point. Another noise, and Auntie came into the room. Her face was streaked with tears, but she stood stiff, almost regal.
“Elliot Parker, you let Persia go. I’ll go with you if you want a hostage, but you’re not taking my niece.” She spoke so softly that her words took a moment to register.
Kyle shook his head. “Miss Florence, go sit by Barbara. Elliot’s in no mood to bargain.”
“Good save, Mr. Police Chief,” Elliot said. We reached the door and were out on the porch. Kyle prevented Barb and Auntie from following. Elliot was breathing hard now, and I could sense he was both aroused and afraid. Not a good combination.
As we reached the steps, a noise to the left startled Elliot and he jerked. I took advantage and gave a brutal shove to his arm holding the gun, forcing it back at an unnatural angle.
Elliot shrieked as the gun went off, the explosion almost deafening me. The next thing I knew, somebody jumped from behind the porch swing and tackled Elliot, wrestling him to the ground. I leapt out of the way as there was another flash of light and thunderclap, and a shaft of fire grazed my shoulder. Crap! Had the jerk shot me?
As I rolled to the ground, trying to duck for cover, I heard the clink of metal on wood and in the glow from the foyer, saw the gun go skittering down the steps, firing once more into the dark night before it came to rest on the ground.<
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Elliot was fighting tooth and nail with his assailant, whom I could now see was Dorian. Dorian aimed one well-timed punch directly at Elliot’s broken nose, and Elliot slumped, unconscious. Right about then, Kyle went racing past me down the stairs to collect the gun. He checked it, then looked at me.
“Miss Florence, call an ambulance. Persia’s been shot.”
Pain began to set in as I glanced up at the door. Auntie was standing there, her pale face staring down at me. She moaned gently, then turned to hurry back into the house. I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my composure. My shoulder felt like it had been hit by a flaming sledgehammer. Kyle motioned to Dorian. “Check her out while I cuff him.”
Dorian started to kneel beside me, but Auntie reappeared, an afghan and pillow in hand. “Barbara’s making the call,” she said. “Dorian, get me another pillow, would you?” She examined me gently. “Child, how bad are you hurt? Do you feel faint?”
Kyle cuffed the unconscious Elliot as Barbara came running out.
“The ambulance is on the way,” she said. Then Dorian was behind her, handing Auntie the pillow. His knuckles were bloody from where he’d connected with Elliot’s face. Barb murmured something as Dorian opened his arms and enfolded her in a tight embrace.
Meanwhile, Kyle had taken over and was probing my shoulder. “I think it’s just a graze,” he said, gingerly poking around. “It’s not bleeding heavily, though you’ll have a nasty bruise. Looks like the bullet barely scraped you. In fact, although the abrasions look nasty, I’d say that some of the bruising was caused by your fall. Did you hit anything?”
I winced, pulling away from his fingers, and looked around. The patio set was right next to me, and one of the chairs had been knocked over. They were made of sturdy metal with plastic seats. I motioned to the overturned seat.
“Probably that. I jumped out of the way, the bullet must have winged me as it flew past, and I fell onto the chair. What a mess.” I tried to stand up, but a wave of nausea overwhelmed me, and I sank to the ground again.