by Claire Kent
“Don’t you?”
The suddenly intense expression in his usually lazy eyes scared her even more. “Mike?”
He opened his mouth but nothing came out.
“Just say it,” she blurted out, wanting to get whatever this was over with so she could get rid of this anxious, jittery dread. “What could you possibly be too nervous to tell me?”
“It’s not telling you,” he explained. “It’s that I’m not sure I can live with your answer.” He gave his head an impatient jerk. “Julia, I know you don’t want to hear this. But—”
Her phone rang loudly, and both of them jumped. Glancing at screen, Julia sucked in her breath. “Drayton.”
Mike leaned back, his expression growing impassive again. He nodded for her to answer it.
“Hi,” Julia said, flipping open her phone.
“Anything going on?”
“No, not much. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this evening.”
“I know. I was just thinking about you, though, and I thought I’d check in to make sure everything was all right.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“After last night,” Drayton explained, sounding uncharacteristically stilted. “I thought perhaps you were a little upset after last night. And I wanted to make sure everything was all right between us.”
Despite herself, she was touched by his concern. “Thanks. I’m fine. And I think Mike is too.”
“Good. I’m working late tonight. It feels like this project will never be complete.”
“Oh. Where are you shooting this evening?”
“Downtown. I won’t be back until three or four. Maybe we can spend some time together tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
She disconnected her phone with a sigh.
Mike gave her a questioning look. “Everything okay? What did he say?”
Julia shook her head, wondering if there was any way out of this mess for the three of them. “He lied.”
Eight
“I don’t care if it’s not what you had in mind,” Julia said, raising her voice to make sure Mike knew she was serious. “If you’re going, I’m going.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Mike replied, looking more impatient than affected by her glaring insistence. They were both in the kitchen of their apartment, and Mike handed her a spatula so she could flip the quesadilla she was making before she even thought about needing one.
She paused to maneuver the quesadilla over carefully in the frying pan before she said, “If it’s so dangerous, why are you going?”
“I can take care of myself.” He stared into the refrigerator and eventually pulled out two bottles of beer. He opened one and gave it to her before he opened one for himself.
“That’s stupid. Just because you’re a man and you’re suffering from delusions of archaic machismo, it’s all right for you to break into a strange house but not me?”
He gave his head a quick shake and didn’t reply. She knew him well enough to know he was heartily displeased with her at the moment.
But this was too important for her to just let go, even though his obvious disapproval made her gut twist. “You’re an engineer, not a detective. You’re not any more trained for that kind of thing than I am.”
“I never said I was trained. Just that you aren’t going with me.”
“Damn it, Mike,” she growled, so annoyed she almost dropped the quesadilla as she slid it out of the pan. “You make me insane. Why exactly can’t I go with you?”
“Because I don’t want you to go.” His voice was low, slightly rough, but not at all out of control. As if he’d just made a perfectly reasonable point in an argument.
She sputtered at him for a minute, almost distracted from her cooling culinary success. When she recovered her ability to speak, she said, “I’m just as invested in this as you. And if it’s dangerous for me, then it’s dangerous for you too.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Well, it matters to me! And I’m sure as hell not going to let you go acting like some sort of cowboy by yourself and get yourself hurt.”
“So says the woman who snuck around that house in the dark, pretending to be a spy.” Before she could object to this exaggeration, he added, “Besides, I thought you didn’t think Drayton was a danger.”
“I don’t.” She cut the quesadilla into fourths, sawing at the tortillas with unnecessary violence. “But breaking into a house is breaking the law, and I don’t want you to do it alone.”
Last week, after Mike’s research, he had a hired a private investigator to look into Drayton. The P.I. had come up with pitiful little information thus far, but he had discovered that Drayton was actually the owner of the house Helen and Julia had found.
He’d never told them he owned a house. Just another secret he was keeping.
Mike had gotten it into his head that looking around the house would be the best way to find out what they needed to know about Drayton. The P.I. wouldn’t break into private property, so Mike wanted to do it himself.
“I’m telling you,” she said, hating the slight crack in her voice. “If you insist on going, then I’m going with you.”
She held his gaze and didn’t give into the urge to turn away and control her emotions.
Mike initially looked angry, but then his features relaxed visibly. With a long exhale, he said, “Then I won’t go. Not yet, at least.”
She studied him suspiciously—wondering what had cued the sudden change of intentions. “You’re not planning to sneak off and go by yourself as soon as my back is turned, are you?”
He actually chuckled. “No.”
When she kept peering at him warily, he added, “I promise.”
She let out her breath and offered him two wedges of her quesadilla as a peace offering.
“Believe it or not,” he said, after he swallowed his first bite, “I don’t particularly enjoy upsetting or scaring you.”
He was responding to a question she hadn’t even voiced—why he’d changed his mind.
“I wasn’t scared or upset. I was mad.”
It was only partly the truth, and both of them knew it. But Mike’s expression was fond as he watched her and chewed on his snack.
For some reason, his expression made her feel kind of shy. She turned away, taking a bite herself, taking care not to stretch the melted cheese. “Why did you get the idea you needed to do something so drastic right now, anyway?” she asked, after she’d swallowed.
He shook his head and didn’t answer, but she recognized something in his expression.
“Mike?” she prompted. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“That’s not true. Something happened to push you into a rather extreme act. Please tell me what happened.”
He sighed and leaned again the counter. “I took a cab home this evening.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Why?”
“I went out to the parking garage after work, and that guy from the antique shop was there.” To recognize the man, Mike must have gone to scout out the shop on his own, although he hadn’t told her he was doing it.
“What? What did he do?”
“Nothing. He was just standing off in a corner, watching. Pretending to check his phone. But I recognized him. I had no idea what he was up to, but I wasn’t going to get in my car, if he’d somehow had access to it.”
“I can’t believe he would try to kill you or anything. Drayton would never allow something like that.”
“How do you know? Drayton is involved in something we never knew about. We have no idea what he would be willing to do.” Mike’s voice was controlled, almost cold.
It made Julia shiver. “We know at least that much. Drayton doesn’t want to hurt us.”
“But we don’t know anything about this other guy. I’m not going to let us be vulnerable to whatever is going on between the two of them. So either we take proactive steps to get some answers or we go to the co
ps.”
“That might get Drayton in trouble. I’m not going to do that.”
He gave her a knowing look. “I figured you’d say that. But we can’t just leave this alone and hope it all works out fine for us. We need to know what’s going on. But breaking into Drayton’s mystery house doesn’t have to be our first option.”
Julia was about to respond when the phone rang. When she picked it up, Helen said without preamble, “You guys need to get over here now.”
“What? What’s going on?”
“Just get over here.” Helen voice was tense and stretched, and Julia couldn’t tell if it was from fear or excitement.
Her heart starting to hammer in response to her friend’s urgency, she asked, “Where are you?”
“In the rare books room.”
“Of what library?”
“Mine. Get over here. Now. Both of you.”
Julia hung up, handed Mike the last wedge of her quesadilla, since he’d finished his half and she wasn’t hungry anymore.
Since Helen had sounded so urgent, they both left immediately, driving over to the campus of the liberal arts college Helen taught at and finding the library—much smaller than the university library Mike had visited a few days before.
The library was quiet and nearly empty, and they went upstairs, following the signs for the rare books room.
Helen was waiting for them at a large table, with an old book open in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Julia asked, sitting down beside her as Mike sat across the table. “Is everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” Helen said, looking stiff and rather strange. “Don’t both turn at once, but tell me if that’s someone you recognize sitting at the table in the corner there.” She inclined her head slightly to the right.
Since Julia was facing in the right direction, she glanced over to look. Then she stiffened and sucked in a breath when she saw the brunette from the party, who was looking down at a book, as if she were reading it. “What is she doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Helen said. “But I’ve seen her three times today, and it just didn’t seem right. Why would some woman be following me? Is she connected to Drayton somehow?”
“She’s the chick from the cocktail party he gave the necklace to. What is going on here?” Julia flashed her eyes to Mike, who’d subtly looked back enough to see the woman too.
He shook his head. “They must have realized we know more than we should about whatever Drayton is up to. Maybe they’re just keeping an eye on us to make sure we don’t know too much.”
“They’re not terribly stealthy,” Helen said. “I saw her right away.”
“Maybe they’re not trying to hide. The guy in the parking deck today definitely wasn’t trying to stay out of sight.” Mike pushed a hand through his hair, mussing it even more.
“Neither was the antique-shop guy, when he was watching me and Drayton. It seemed more like a warning than a real attempt to spy.”
Helen gave a half-shrug. “So what do we know? Drayton is the son of some legendary thief, he has very unpleasant acquaintances who keep showing up, he sometimes ends up with blood on his clothes, and he disappears without explanation. Sorry, but it really seems like he must be involved in something criminal.”
“Yeah. Thief. Blackmailer. Hired gun. Hit man,” Mike murmured. “Who knows? Whatever it is, it’s bad enough for him to keep secret.
“But then who are these other people, and why are they following us around?” Julia asked.
Mike just shook his head.
“But…” Julia trailed off, more upset than ever at where her deductions were leading her. “Anyway, this is Drayton we’re talking about. I can’t believe he’s a murderer or something. He might be kind of shady, and I could believe he’d break the law under certain circumstances, but, underneath everything, he’s a good guy.”
“Is he?” Mike asked. “I just don’t know anymore.”
They stared at each other for a long minute as the repercussions of the words hit home.
Julia rubbed her face, trying to control her bewildered shudders. “Listen to us! We’re jumping to conclusions too soon.”
“Maybe,” Mike said, his brown eyes holding hers with absolute seriousness. “But right now, him being a criminal is the best theory we’ve got.”
***
That Friday, Julia lounged on Drayton’s rumpled bed while he got dressed. It was close to nine-thirty in the morning, and she normally would have been at work by now. “Do you have to go?” she asked, feeling oddly nervous about his answer.
Part of her wanted him to leave town, as he’d scheduled, so events could unfold the way she and Mike had planned them. But part of her wanted for him to stay at home with her today—so she wouldn’t have to go through what felt kind of like a betrayal.
“I’ve had this trip planned for a month,” Drayton said, buttoning up his dark green dress shirt. “If you take Monday off from work as well, then we’ll be able to enjoy the day together.”
He gave her a warm look, but it was more affectionate than passionate. He wasn’t in a sexy mood this morning—an incongruity she could hardly fail to miss.
“I don’t know if I can take two days off in a row. Today was just a spontaneous thing. I’ll get too behind if I miss Monday too.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stay and play hooky with you.” Drayton looked polished and sophisticated as he slid a black belt around his waist, despite his ruffled hair and lack of shoes. It seemed absurd to think of him as anything other than he looked—an intelligent photographer in his thirties with an eye for aesthetics and a lightning-quick wit.
Julia pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest. “Hmph,” she grunted, giving him a teasing pout. “Some fun you are.”
With a smile, Drayton leaned over the bed and took her protruding lower lip between his teeth. After giving it a little tug, his mouth softened into a kiss.
She responded, feeling oddly hopeful, and pulled him down onto the bed with her. Pressing the length of her body against his, she murmured, “Stay with me today, Drayton.”
If he stayed, she wouldn’t have to go through with the rest of the plan. And maybe they could bond again, make a first step toward the truth coming out in a more natural and less underhanded way.
“Julia, I can’t.” Despite his words, his hands traced along the curves of her thighs, butt, and back, rubbing against the pink cotton of her shorts and tank set. After giving her another kiss, he added, “Did Mike turn you down first?”
It took her a few seconds to process the question. When she did, she jerked away and sat up stiffly on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t fair, Drayton.”
“Wasn’t it?” Drayton sat up too, but made no move to touch her again. “It wasn’t intended to be an attack. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Mike lately, and I’d be surprised if you hadn’t asked him to spend the day with you first.”
“Well, I didn’t. We’ve hardly seen you lately. I wanted to spend some time with you.”
She was too on edge to look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her back. “I’m not the one who pulled away,” he said at last.
That made her suck in a sharp breath and look at him again. “I keep trying to reach out to you, Drayton. You can’t blame this on me. You’re the one keeping secrets.”
“I’ve told you before. What I’m keeping from you has nothing to do with our relationship. You’re the one who keeps making it an issue.” Before she could object to this, he continued, “But I wasn’t blaming you.”
She instinctively understood his words. “You blame Mike.”
“Are you going to tell me he hasn’t been trying to turn you against me?”
“He doesn’t like secrets. He doesn’t know what to think of everything.”
“He’s already made up his mind.” Drayton wasn’t being clever or ironic. Just blunt. And Julia thought she could also see something poignant in the back of his eyes. �
�I’d wonder why he doesn’t just leave, but I already know the answer to that.”
His significant look at her could hardly be misinterpreted. “I don’t think you’re right about that. Not really. I know things are weird between you and Mike, but if you’d both just be honest maybe you could work it out. I care about you both. I don’t want to lose either one of you. Can’t you try, Drayton? You two used to be so close.”
His lips tightened as he stood up and walked over to where his black leather shoes were lined up on the floor. “My feelings haven’t changed.”
The acknowledgement in his words—in his voice—hurt so much Julia could barely swallow. Even if things hadn’t been complicated by Drayton’s secrets and what they might have discovered about him, Julia wondered if there could have been any possibility of reconciliation between the two men.
In so many ways, the transforming needs and desires of the men were hopelessly contrary. For a short while, they’d fit together—interlocked like the hinges on a door. But the momentum of their characters kept pushing them farther apart.
As far as Julia could tell, it would keep pushing them, until they were too far apart to ever connect again.
She wasn’t strong enough to hold them together anymore, and she was starting to wonder if she even wanted to.
Would she want to go back to the way things had been two months ago, even if she could?
But that would be giving up what she’d invested more than a year of her life in. She would lose Drayton. And Mike. It was too great a loss to accept.
“Drayton,” she said. “I don’t know if I can let go.”
“Then don’t.” He stepped over and raised her to her feet, taking her face in his hands. His green eyes were compelling, almost mesmerizing. “I’m not letting go either.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Drayton left their apartment. She watched from a window until she saw him pull out of the parking garage. Then she picked up her phone and dialed Mike. “He’s gone.”
Mike returned less than five minutes later. He hadn’t gone to work, although he left at the same time he always did, so Drayton would assume he had. Both Mike and Julia had decided to take the day off of work. It was one of the few chances they might have to do some real investigation.