Fadeout

by Rolynn Anderson

  Jan gave him a knowing grin, reminiscent of her smile in repose. “Bella’s called them all, personally. A half dozen are coming.”

  He shook his head, flummoxed. “I’m not the only one he hammered?”

  She pulled a list out of her folder and gave it to Roman.

  “Shit! Where did you get this?”

  “From Sidney’s journal. Bella gave me the list yesterday, while you were working with the General.” Jan leaned against the arm of the couch. “I explained the trouble you were having talking about Sidney, so she copied these names from his journal.”

  Roman drew his finger down the list of names, exclaiming each time he came across a well-known writer. “He kept a journal about the people he lambasted?”

  “Not only that, he wrote meticulous notes assessing how people used his criticism. How their work changed. Improved, for the most part. He gave up on some writers, but he bird-dogged these dozen for years.”

  She let Roman absorb her words. “My idea is to organize the memorial by having each person your grandfather critiqued, describe the nature and the effect of his critique. You, too.”

  Roman blinked at the list, thinking about the years of attention and toil Sidney’s endeavors must have taken him. “No wonder he never wrote anything substantial himself. He must have decided early on he wasn’t going to write history himself but critique how others did, instead.”

  He ran his hand over his forehead. “Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t Bella?”

  Jan stilled herself, a secret smile on her lips.

  Her quietude sent a shiver up Roman’s spine. He wanted to kiss her in the worst way, nuzzle her neck, and hold ice on the bump next to her eye until she felt better. At the same time he wanted to get his hands on Sidney’s journal and interview the other writers his grandfather had targeted. What he would give to capture in words the life Sidney had hidden from the world.

  His thoughts skipped to Tess’s father. Imagine Cliff Barker’s secrets. What skeletons had the old man closeted?

  He jumped up, absently rubbing his numb butt, while adrenaline pumped energy to his brain. Would Sidney think Roman was being fair-minded by kicking up dirt on Barker as well as the famous Senator Johnson?

  No. And No.

  Jan would agree.

  Bella, too.

  Tough. If he listened to his critics, he’d be writing pap. Sterile, sweet Hallmark biographies. No looking at underbellies. Hold the mistakes. Ignore the weaknesses.

  Sidney had had zero effect on Roman’s writing. Still, he wanted to see his grandfather’s journal in the worst way, especially to read the stories about other writers Sidney had supposedly influenced.

  He gazed at Jan, who stood watching him, still as a statue and alluring, the scrape on her face adding vulnerability. Elwood huffed, catching his attention. The dog sat next to her feet, rumbling.

  Shit. He’d never be able to kiss Jan and sweet talk her out of the journal and the Barker file unless the dog was out of the room or preoccupied with dog things. He reached into his pocket and breathed easier when he found two dog biscuits in it. Bella was right. Again.

  He stooped to place the dog treat on the wood floor and shove it across the surface. Elwood didn’t budge, giving Roman a look that said, “What else you got?”

  Roman sent the second biscuit sliding to join the first and Elwood took off after them.

  Jan grinned. “Smart move.”

  “Come here.”

  Jan took a step toward him, seeming to understand his strategy. Laughing, Roman closed the gap between them. He captured her hands with his and gently pushed both her arms behind her, pleased to be touching the very ass he’d been appreciating for the last hour. Her breasts felt soft on his chest and when she let out a little sigh, he bent to kiss her. Sweet. Exploring. Unhurried.

  She murmured something, but he couldn’t make out the words. He framed her cheeks between his palms, considering a second, deeper kiss. “What’d you say?”

  Eyes closed and face a little flushed, she whispered, “No.”

  Didn’t she like kissing him? “No, what?”

  “No, you can’t read your grandfather’s journal.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  She opened her eyes, the gold flecks in her brown eyes sparkling. “Bella showed me Sidney’s book to prove to me it existed, but she never let me read it.” Jan pointed to the writers’ names. “She gave me the list and explained that not one of them was allowed to read Sidney’s private journal. Including you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Lock the door. I’ll return with Sid’s journal in ten minutes.” She mimicked Roman’s last words before he’d stalked over to Bella’s. “Who does he think he is, ordering me around?”

  “He’ll be the death of me, Elwood. And you know it, don’t you?” Jan said as she put a fresh bowl of water next to the dog’s food dish.

  The dog lapped noisily.

  “Roman Keller is a con man and you’ve known it from the start, haven’t you, Elly?”

  Hearing his name, the dog held Jan’s gaze while he licked water off his mouth.

  “He had his hour,” she said, turning to her desk and opening a file. “Now it’s time to make sure Grace Weather’s memorial is perfect.”

  Elwood jumped up and nosed the door, whining. Jan’s heart gave an extra beat, wondering who it could be.

  “Janny, it’s me.”

  She let out a breath and opened the door for the General.

  Her father was all business, face flushed and eyes snapping, ready to give orders. “Where is he? You told me Roman was watching over you.”

  She shut the door and led the way to her desk. “Good morning to you too, Dad. He went to see his grandmother for a few minutes. What’s up?”

  “We’re dropping Barker, Janny. Period.”

  Jan leaned against the kitchen counter. “Without consulting me, your so-called business partner?”

  He puffed up his chest. “You were determined to quit after Grace’s memorial. That’s tomorrow. You’re done. I’ll finish up the Keller job.” He waved his hand. “Fly to Seattle and surprise Frank.”

  Memories of the General barking orders to her mother flooded Jan’s mind.

  “No,” she said, watching Elwood scramble to the foyer. She followed the dog, glanced through the peephole and opened the door to an empty-handed Roman. Journal-less. Good. Bella had stood her ground and so would she.

  Taking Roman’s elbow, she walked with him into the living room. “Roman and I are going to visit Mrs. Barker right now, Dad.”

  “You are not.”

  “What’s happened since yesterday, sir?” Roman asked, clearly puzzled by the General’s agitation. “Have the police found out more about the daughter that threatened Jan?”

  Lips pursed, the General said nothing.

  Jan put a fist to her hip. “We civilians are allowed to question an order. And reason usually works better than demands.”

  Narrowing his eyes at her sarcastic tone, he said, “One of the Barker sons called me. Same threat as the daughter’s. But scarier, because he implied if we went ahead with the memorial as planned, we’d put a brother over the edge. To suicide.” The General sat on the arm of the couch, dropping his shoulders. “We took up the business to help people, Janny. Not kill them. Or put you in danger.”

  Jan laid her hand on her father’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze, a little unnerved to see him so worried. All her life, she’d watched this military man drag the family from one assignment to the other, seeming not to care about their protests. The General’s family was his personal platoon. Where he went, they went. If her mother dissented, she did so behind closed doors. Over the years, Jan had heard her parents argue, muffled battles in their bedroom. Her mother would give her father the silent treatment for days afterward, and always kept a suitcase packed. Still, throughout his career, her mother had never countermanded his orders. She also didn’t leave the marriage, though Jan had always worried s
he would.

  Then her mother got cancer, an enemy against which the General was helpless. Maybe Barker presented a challenge the General had underestimated. Or with his wife’s death, perhaps he’d lost his will to fight the unknown.

  Frank had warned her to drop Barker, too. This morning, she’d pledged to cancel the contract. Why not let the Barkers solve their own problems?

  Jan was stunned to find out she preferred her father puffed up and primed for combat. Drawing herself to full height, she said, “We’re not dropping the Barkers, Dad.”

  The General looked to Roman. “It’s too dangerous. Tell her.”

  She faced her father. “You already made the point. Our job as funeral planners is to help people. Obviously the son and daughter who threatened us can’t get their mother to cancel the memorial. They’re looking to us to stop it, don’t you see? If there’s something to the kids’ hatred for their father, we’re the ones who have to find it. The mother won’t. In other words, to drop the Barkers as clients is the least noble thing we can do.”

  A ghost of a smile played on her father’s lips and he squared his shoulders.

  Roman jumped in, sounding eager. “I’ll stay with her, sir, when you can’t.” Elwood grumbled, as if to protest the new arrangement. Jan agreed with the dog. What was she supposed to do with two men hovering over her night and day?

  Focus on your goals. She could handle a day or two of restrictions if both Senator Johnson and the Barker children benefitted. She’d kill two birds with one stone: Get Roman to help her delve into Cliff Barker’s past. Tease him with the folder he wanted so badly and make him forget about the Johnson script.

  “Enough jawing, gentleman. We’ve got a ton of work to do. Dad, you check over last minute details on Grace’s memorial while I pay a visit to Mrs. Barker. Roman, more muckraker than bodyguard, accompanies me.”

  She turned her back on him before Roman could respond, unwilling to see whether or not he looked guilty. For all her bluster, her heart hurt knowing he was using her while she was using him.

  ****

  Roman’s stomach growled through the entire interview with Madeline Barker. Paired with Elwood’s steady grumbling, the stereo sounds seemed to unnerve the widow enough to keep the meeting short. And futile.

  Afterward, belted into Roman’s Beemer, Jan said, “You need breakfast. We’ll debrief at a restaurant.” She directed Roman to a parking place in front of the Old Mission in San Luis Obispo.

  They selected an umbrella table on the empty patio of the Old Mission Grill. “Elly can sit underneath. Quietly, I hope.”

  After they took their seats, Roman checked out the park next to the Mission where a giant bronze bear perpetually reached for a salmon jumping in a square pool. Tourists snapped pictures of the bear and the ancient Catholic Church set in the soothing shade of tall eucalyptus trees, their smooth white trunks stretching high to lacy canopies.

  His stomach rumbled. “Sorry.”

  Waving away his apology, she said, “You’ll get a great breakfast here.”

  After they’d ordered, Jan eyed the dog. “I couldn’t decide if Elly was growling at Mrs. Barker, at you, or both of you.” She adjusted the collar of her black sleeveless shell and opened up her file on Barker. “For a dog who’s never growled before, he’s developed attitudes toward certain people. I think it’s time for me to pay attention to his dislikes.”

  Roman relaxed in his chair, his expression smug. “He’s definitely unhappy with the widow.”

  Bending over to pat the dog’s head, Jan nodded. “I’d say he’s emitting half the volume in your presence as he was at the Barker’s house. Wish I had my mom here to interpret.”

  “You miss her.”

  Jan scanned the families gathered in the park. “She and I were allies against the General and four younger brothers. As eldest, I rebelled and went civilian on him. My sibs followed the General’s orders. Three of them went to college under ROTC programs and served time in the Army. One brother joined the police force after college. Same difference.”

  She must have seen the sympathy in his eyes, because she held up her palm. “They’re all fine men. I love them to death along with their wives and five kids.” She shrugged. “But I’m the only one not trained for combat.”

  Roman nodded, imagining Jan trying to compete for the General’s attention among four macho brothers. A tough way to earn her stripes. No wonder she moved fast. Then there was the Syncope. Pete had told Roman she hated her penchant for fainting, convinced it was a sign of weakness.

  She fussed with her menu and realigned her cutlery. “I suppose it’s possible I identify with Tess. I have four brothers and she has five. She’s definitely not prepared for this tough assignment.” Jan spread her hands on the table as if to signal they should move on to the facts. “Madeline Barker. Your read?”

  “I agree with Elwood. She’s a well-honed society matron, all feather hat and tea service. I couldn’t guess what she really believes about her husband behind all those manners.”

  Jan took a bite of spinach and mushroom quiche while Roman dug into a giant omelet. Melted cheddar, chunks of onions, mushrooms, and sausage squeezed out when he cut off a corner. “Madeline tagged Tess as ‘troubled’ and the son who called us, ‘prone to drama.’”

  “Dismissed the idea one son might be suicidal,” Roman added. “Instead, she wanted to talk about the luminaries elbowing each other for time at the memorial podium. She seemed thrilled that so many wanted to speak about Cliff’s contributions to the community. My research shows the mayor’s angling to use Barker’s memorial to take over Barker’s position in the State Senate. Pick up Barker’s baton, so to speak, to garner his supporters.”

  “Frank warned me these guys are rabid, especially about expanding nuclear power on the West Coast.”

  “That’s a damning statement from an energy lobbyist.”

  Jan raised her chin. “Frank’s got principles, Roman. He said I should drop the client.”

  “And you didn’t agree?”

  “No, although I was leaning that way.” She shrugged in dismissal, opened her folder and pointed to her notes. “Madeline said she understood why the two sons living overseas couldn’t come and why the others chose not to speak. Bottom line, it would take a hurricane to stop the memorial. She and the mayor’s office are determined to carry on.”

  Roman chomped on buttered toast and warned himself to keep his voice neutral. “So will you? Carry on, I mean?”

  She seemed pensive as she scraped the egg mixture off the piecrust and cut her bacon into inch-long pieces. “I’m struggling, Roman. When things got painful for me at HighTech, I quit.” She shook her head. “This Barker case feels the same way to me. Pete says Cliff’s record is clean, but Tess makes me think he’s got a dark side.”

  “Too many unknowns?” Roman asked, trying not to push.

  Jan squinted at the kids splashing water in the bear fountain. “I don’t like what I’m hearing about this family. My instincts tell me Madeline’s out of touch with reality.”

  “You’d like to help Tess.”

  “I’ve dug up some interesting information on each of the kids, as a matter of course. But this requires deep investigation.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a detective,” she said as she closed the folder. “I can barely handle event planning.”

  Roman kept his eyes off the folder, feeling like a drug addict who’d steal from his mother’s purse to buy his next fix. Was it so wrong to be passionate about his profession, about getting to the truth?

  Pushing away her plate, Jan said, “My dad’s no sissy, Roman. This is his business, not mine. If he wants me to dump the client, maybe I should.” She fingered the folder. “This stuff, all my preliminary planning, belongs to Madeline. I’d have to hand it over to her along with my bill if I withdraw.”

  Not before I read it.

  Jan placed the papers on the chair near her purse. “I’ll call Tess and see what she thinks I should do. Aft
er that, I’ll research your grandfather with more verve.” With a grin she said, “I decided I like the challenge of convincing you there’s a softer side to Sidney.” She pushed back her chair. “Time for me to go help the General at Grace’s memorial. I guess you’ll have to chauffeur me there and I’ll get a ride home with Dad.” She hissed her annoyance at the inconvenience. “If I ditch the widow Barker as a client, we can quit this bodyguard business, can’t we?”

  Guilt hit Roman again. “We’ll listen to Pete and the General on that, Jazz.” He waved his hand. “I know better than to countermand their orders. No matter what, I’ll be on watch starting at three, your house.”

  She climbed in the car and waited until Roman was seated before she handed him the Barker folder. “Could you bring this with you when you come? I don’t want to take the chance of leaving it at Grace’s funeral.”

  “Absolutely,” he said, grabbing the treasure from her and placing it in the side pocket of his car.

  “Thanks.” She sounded grateful for the favor. “Got plans for the afternoon?”

  He worked up a smile he hoped was charming as he thought of a good cover for his afternoon project. “I might hit the library, looking for some nice things to say about Senator Johnson.”

  Jan tilted her head. “I won’t hold my breath on that one.” She gazed at the ancient Mission church before her eyes rested on his. “I think your profession makes you cynical, Roman.” Giving him a measured look she added, “In your judgment, everyone’s flawed. Except for you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Decked out in a bright green and blue flowered muumuu, Bella burst through Jan’s open doorway rubbing her hands and grinning. “Thank God you called, dear.”

  “Are you sure?” Jan asked, worried Roman was wrong about Bella dying for a diversion.

  “Positive.”

  “I was thinking if you could help me for a few minutes I could…” When Jan surveyed her empty house, words failed her.

  “Minutes, shminutes,” Bella said, brandishing her rolling measurer like a stubby sword. “I’ve got all the time in the world for you, honey. With the glorious party you’re setting up for Sidney, I’ll owe you years of consultation.”