by Misty Simon
He seemed to come back to earth as he licked his lips. It was all I could do not to follow the trail of that darting tongue, forget anyone but he and I existed in this whole world.
But Charlie was still standing there like a voyeur. And I was not going to give him the satisfaction of letting my lust take control of me, no matter how much money he had made for The Masked Shoppe today.
“What’s up?” I said, running my fingers through my hair. Ben’s had been there moments ago. I’d bet my last stack of Tastykakes that my hair was sticking up all over the place. Not very attractive, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at this stage.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, but his cheeky smile belied his words. Hmph.
“No problem,” Ben said before I could open my mouth. “Couple more seconds and we may have had to put up the Closed sign.” Ben’s own cheeky smile popped out, dimples and all. I hadn’t thought it possible, but it was even cheekier than Charlie’s.
They beamed at each other for a few moments until I cleared my throat. “What can I do for you, Charlie? Do we need more supplies?” I’ll admit I was baiting him, but he didn’t rise to it. Dammit.
“Nope, we’re doing good. I finally got the floor cleared, then straightened up the racks. I can’t believe how messy people can be when they’re tearing through all the merchandise. Is that normal?”
“Yeah.” But what wasn’t normal was looking at Charlie as a trustworthy and hard-working associate. He’d done a good job, which I grudgingly told him.
You’d think I had heaped major praise on him. “Thanks so much, Ivy. That means the world to me. I can’t believe I spent all that time fixing pipes and digging in unmentionable muck when I could have been doing what I do best.” He smiled again. This time I couldn’t help but join him.
I hadn’t found my calling until I’d come out here, so I knew exactly how he felt. Could it be I had more things in common with Charlie than I had originally thought? Had his mom been overbearing, like my dad, before the woman had gone mental? But that had nothing to do with the conversation. To tell the truth, I wasn’t going to think about it now, because then I’d like Charlie and couldn’t continue thinking of him as a potential suspect. And I wasn’t letting him out of that mold yet. I didn’t have many others to look at—slim pickings this time around. I only had Jackson, and as much as I’d like to see him go down in a blaze of horror, I had to be sure it was really him before I started pointing fingers.
Which reminded me. “Since things have seemed to calm down here, I’m going to take Ben for a stroll, if you don’t mind holding down the fort for a little bit.” I needed a walk, along with some time to think.
I got an audacious wink from Charlie. “Oh, sure, I’ll watch the store while you go for a…walk.” He winked at me again while reaching across the counter to pat Ben on the arm.
Ben chuckled. “We really are going for a walk, man, though I can’t say I don’t wish it were more.” The full smile was flashed my way. Somehow his hand wandered down to my backside, where he goosed me.
“Yeah, I bet you want more, but it’s not happening right now.” I turned to Charlie. “I told you no more winking.” I talked again over his chuckle. “We’ll be back in about ten minutes. Just hold down the fort. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
His face fell a little, some of the light going out of his crinkled smile. He had done a great job this morning, and I hadn’t even thanked him without being grudging about it. Then when he thought I was going to trust him again, I made it sound like I didn’t. Crap.
But I didn’t have time to smooth feathers at this point. The thought made me glance back at his T-shirt. Ben only had a few minutes, and I needed all of them.
“We’ll see you in a little bit,” I said, waving my way out the door and closing it behind me.
“Do you have to be so friendly?” I asked irritably as soon as we were outside the door on our way down the street. “I’m having a hard enough time as it is, here. I thought you didn’t want him in there. Now you’re all buddy-buddy, winking at each other. What the hell is going on?”
When I tried to tug my arm away from Ben, he only hung on harder. “I was trying to be supportive of your decision to hire him. What on earth did I do wrong this time?” The exasperation was so clear in his voice I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at him.
He stopped with me, finally letting go of my arm to stuff his hands into his pockets. His shoulders were hunched up near his ears as he continued to rock back and forth in his black shiny shoes.
I was almost afraid to look up at him. Had he guessed that I was not feeling really good about him practically moving into my house without an invitation? Was I going to have to shore up my gumption? Have an argument in broad daylight right out in front of anyone who happened to walk by? I had a backbone now, so I wasn’t nearly as afraid of confrontation as I was before, but that didn’t mean I welcomed it with open arms in any given venue.
“Everything’s fine,” I said, tugging him back into a walk. “It’s all fine for right now. If you want to talk about something other than the investigation, then it’s going to have to wait until tonight. I’m sorry.” And I really was, though a long list of anywhere else I could be tonight besides my house was scrolling through my head.
“Fine.” But he kept his hands in his pockets and didn’t try to touch me again. “Tell me what you have for me.”
I started blurting things out to cover up the uncomfortable moment. “Detective Bartley said they’re looking at the last in a long line of Trev’s girlfriends. Do you know who he was seeing?”
“No, but I’m sure we can find out.” No smile that time. Barely any eye contact, either. Damn.
But I moved on. “They’re also looking at where all Trev’s money was coming from. He did some work for his dad as a carpenter but had quite a bit more money than it would have paid. They said he recently got a windfall. Oh, and some guy is here looking for him, in need of something Trev was supposed to hand over. I don’t know, it’s kind of confusing.”
He nodded his head at this, then motioned for me to continue.
I faltered a little, staring down at the sidewalk and my new white tennis shoes before I looked up again, right into his eyes. “You know I love you, right?”
He followed my swift change of subject, immediately sweeping me into a hug. “Of course I do,” he murmured into my hair. “I just like to hear it every once in a while.”
“Oh, okay,” I mumbled, getting a mouthful of his shirt for my troubles. I let him hug me for another minute before I pulled away. “So what are we going to do?”
He rubbed the top of his head, pacing a few feet to the right then a few feet back to stand in front of me. He kissed the tip of my nose. When he pulled back, his big shit-eating grin was in evidence. “We’re going to do what we do best.”
I had already told him we weren’t having sex right now, so I assumed he meant we were going to break in somewhere. I couldn’t wait. (That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it.)
Chapter Thirteen
“Why do I always have to be the last one to go in?” I wasn’t really complaining. On one hand, it meant I got to stare at Ben’s butt. On the other hand, if there was something scary inside, I wasn’t going to be the first one to go up against it.
“Because I’m the one who knows how to break in through locked doors,” Ben whispered back. “Plus, I like knowing you’re looking at my butt the whole time.”
I smacked the object of our conversation, making him yelp. I was glad it was dark out tonight, with no moon in the sky. He wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up my neck and spreading across my face. Yeesh! Did he now have mind-reading abilities too? I didn’t think I could stand that and live with him. What about those days when I thought he was a slob? Or when I wanted to slug him for hogging all the bed covers?
But I had more important things to worry about now as Ben nudged me with his elbow. No yellow crime scene t
ape circled the little cottage we were breaking and entering into. And we even had a key this time, because Detective Bartley had slipped me one during our meeting. To say I was surprised when she slid the cold metal into my hand before she walked out the door was an understatement. But I used it, nonetheless, because I wasn’t going to scrape up my credit card and possibly get caught red-handed, not if I had a key instead.
Which meant I could have gone in first, since we didn’t need Ben’s dubious lock-picking talents. But I wasn’t going to mention it, since I did want to ogle his butt.
Ben put his finger to his mouth to shush me as we went in the back door. I wasn’t talking, so I scowled at him. “I’m not stupid!” I mouthed back at him.
“I know,” he said in a normal voice as he turned on his small flashlight and began sweeping it over the walls and the floors.
“And do you know what it is we’re looking for, oh big Gumbah?” I crossed my arms over my chest, tapping my foot on the soft carpet. I wanted carpet like this in my house but hadn’t been able to justify the cost yet. Maybe I’d take this opportunity to crawl around on it, get a feel for if I really wanted to live on ramen noodles for the next few years in order to be able to sink my toes into my floor covering, instead of tiptoeing across the cold hardwood floor of my house.
And, yet again, I had gotten off course. Ben forcibly reminded me of this by poking me in the stomach while waving a hand mere inches in front of my face. “Hello, earth to Ivy.”
“Yeah, I’m here. Where do you want to start first?”
“I think Trev had two bedrooms with one bath in the back.”
The rest of the house appeared to be one big room divided into a living room/dining room combo separated from the galley kitchen by a long counter.
“How about you take the master bedroom and I’ll take the other, and then we’ll meet in the bathroom?” He leered at me.
For my part, I wondered if he was thinking about our one really memorable bout of lovemaking on the floor of my master bathroom. After the shouting was done, the only things I could think were how much my back hurt and that I really had to be more thorough about cleaning the underneath of the sink bowl next time.
“Fine, I’ll meet you in the bathroom, and then we can move out of here. Try not to turn on any lights, and we’ll hope no police come by.”
We got to work. I had no idea what Ben was doing in Trev’s extra bedroom, but I was nearly bored out of my mind in the master bedroom. If I had to open one more drawer and come across package after package of condoms, I was going to scream. Who had this much sex? I mean, yeah, I had a pretty active nighttime life, but come on! The man had enough prophylactics to last for the next ten to twelve years.
And now he was dead.
When that thought popped into my head, I shuddered and moved faster to escape the awful, creepy feeling in my stomach. Silk boxers, a few toys I recognized because I carried them in the back room of the shop—and then I hit what I thought might be pay dirt.
My fingers drifted over the cover of a notebook in the top drawer of the nightstand. It looked like your standard college rule spiral ring, but the cover was worn, the pages a little ruffled. Plus, I had always kept my journal in this exact spot when I was younger, until I realized my dad could easily gain access to it if he wanted to. That made me put my diary under my mattress, even if Dad swore he would never violate my privacy like that.
I flipped open the cover nonchalantly, though there was no one looking over my shoulder I had to be casual for. At first I had no idea what I was looking at. Page one held some random thoughts about life and relationships, along with a few quotes from famous people I recognized. I flipped to the next page, where I read the first few lines before I got sucked into what I assumed was a fantasy or something.
A dark-haired woman came into the room not knowing what she was looking for, or how she’d find it. Her rapidly beating heart told her someone named Gage was near. Gage swept into the room and declared his undying love for her as he produced a ring the size of an egg, and they had their happily ever after.
I found myself sniffing a little bit like Joan Wilder in the beginning of Romancing the Stone. It was beautiful and touching. But I had no idea why it was sitting in Trev’s side drawer. The handwriting was indistinguishable between male or female. Maybe it was something his girlfriend had left for him, or a present from a former girlfriend. Something pinged in the back of my head, having to do with Jackie Sturder, but I put the errant thought away to dive back into searching the room.
Whatever the notebook was, I snuck it into my black backpack, then checked under the bed. Nothing exciting down there other than a few stray socks and a lumpy statue that looked like it might be a lopsided woman. None of it meant anything, so I went to the bathroom to see how Ben had fared in the other room.
I found him on his hands and knees with his head under the sink. It was very tempting to nudge him in the butt with my foot. Instead I silently giggled to myself, then reached a gentle hand between his jean-clad thighs. He yelped and jumped just as satisfactorily as if I’d kicked him. I let the giggle out this time.
“Thanks a lot, Ivy,” he said, but I couldn’t tell if he meant it or if he was being sarcastic. I didn’t care much either way, since I still thought it was funny.
“So, did you find anything?” I asked, not wanting to share my little notebook yet. It was probably ridiculous. I was really hoping this trip of unlocking and entering wasn’t going to be a waste of our time.
He backed completely out of the cabinet under the sink, sitting back on his heels. “Does finding out that Trev was a closet collector of romance novels count?” His face fell into a frown. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen such a wide variety of different authors and titles. Some of them made me hot under the collar. You know how hard that is to do.”
I snorted, and yes, it was as bad as it sounded. Thank God I was already sleeping with this guy or I might never have gotten him into bed with that one.
“Are you snorting at me?” He quirked an eyebrow.
I had a split second to try to move out of the way before his fingers dug into my sides. “No tickling,” I shrieked. “I can’t handle the tickling.”
It stopped right after my last word. “You have to keep it down if you don’t want the cops here. Sheesh!”
“Don’t you sheesh me. You know I can’t stand being tickled, so you shouldn’t have done it. It’s all your fault. I wouldn’t have screamed at all if you’d kept your hands to yourself.”
“But you love to scream by my hands.” He leered at me with his double entendre (good word!).
I smacked him, he howled, and I got to tell him to keep it down. Ha, ha!
Unfortunately, there was nothing even remotely interesting in the bathroom, although I was reassured when I saw the underneath of his sink was even worse than mine. Not surprisingly, his bathroom was nearly as well stocked as his bedroom in the condom department. Yowza! I saw Ben pocket a few, with a hopeful expression on his face, and rolled my eyes.
Leading the way out to the living room, I kept my snicker to myself. He was such a dork sometimes, but he was my dork, which made it okay.
In silence we divided up. He went to the kitchen to rummage around in the drawers while I headed for the living room. I peered under the couch, thinking he really needed to get under here with the vacuum. Then I remembered, again, that he was dead. Immediately, I felt bad for criticizing someone who could no longer speak for himself. Or I hoped he couldn’t speak for himself at this time. I watched all those paranormal shows on the Sci-Fi channel, but that didn’t mean I wanted to have a drop in the temperature right over my head. Unless Trev was going to come back to tell me who had murdered him, I didn’t want to see his ghost.
Ben was still rummaging, not being very quiet about it, when I came across another lump of something that looked like a statue. Right next to it was a pocket watch engraved with loopy script. I couldn’t see the surface, but by tracing my
fingers over it I felt the ridges. It was even darker under here than in the room itself, so I got my flashlight, clamped it between my teeth, and took a closer look.
The watch sported a little rust on the hinge, and could probably do with a serious polish, but it was beautiful, with a dragon etched on the front, holding a branch in its mouth. A line of words ran along the bottom of the lid. I couldn’t make them out in the feeble light under the couch.
Ducking out from under the shadowy space, I backed into something solid and hard. I wished I could say it was Ben leaning over me but couldn’t, as I thought I bruised my butt. That had never happened before, so it was more likely a piece of furniture.
I peeked over my shoulder to find myself cheek to wood with a large sideboard that looked almost like the one in my Shoppe that I’d picked up several months ago. Remembering the piece of furniture reminded me of some of the weirder aspects of its construction. Ones that had caused me numerous problems.
I dropped the watch into my backpack, letting it slide down the face of the battered notebook. Running my hands along the lines of the massive antique, I searched for anything out of the ordinary. I’d been hit over the head at one time because of a fake door in the leg of my sideboard. I doubted I had to worry about that particular violence at this time, but I sure would have liked to find another secret door with all of Trev’s deep dark skeletons in it. The name of his murderer would be nice, too, if I had my way.
I found nothing, of course, because that’s how things always work out for me.
But Ben gave a slow whistle, then beckoned me over with his free hand. I ran away from the sideboard with my backpack thumping into my plus-sized behind.
“What do you have?” I said, nearly breathless, which was ridiculous since I’d only crossed about fifteen feet to stand in front of Ben. Must get back to walking around the neighborhood, I told myself as I huffed and puffed myself up to the counter. I leaned on the slick surface, bracing my hand on the wall, hoping I wasn’t bellowing like a bullfrog.