Jan turned to survey the storefronts on Monterey Street. Roman worried he’d hurt her, but couldn’t figure out what to say.
She sighed and looked at him. “You’re good at finding what’s missing, Roman. I trust you’ll discover gaps in my life, as you will with Barker and Johnson. The two men are dead, so they can’t dispute your judgments. I’m alive, so I could debate your findings, but the battle makes me weary.” She fiddled with her seat belt, making Roman think she might bolt out of the car. Instead, she asked, “How long were you together?”
“With Maura? About three years.”
Jan made a tsking sound. “Lord, she’s brave.” She settled in the seat. “Actually, I’m relieved to know I’m too much of a contrast to Maura. Bella was dead wrong, bless her sweet heart.”
“Bella? How does my grandmother fit in?”
“She thought since you’d nicknamed me and not Maura, you and I had potential as a couple. I tried to convince her the nickname was a dig, derogatory. She said since you liked jazz music… God, why am I telling you all this?” Jan rubbed her eyes. “Anyway, Bella’s wrong. We don’t have potential beyond a superficial attraction. What we do have together is a few hellish days.”
Roman didn’t answer, distracted by Jan’s comment about Bella. His grandmother had weighed in on his relationship with Jan, but had never voiced her opinion of Maura. Why was that? True, he’d never nicknamed Maura. Why? Bella had sniffed out a gap he should have noticed. What else had he missed?
He parked in front of a house and turned off the motor. What could he say to Jan to make her comfortable with him again? Superficial attraction? Derogatory nicknames? Was he losing his touch with women altogether?
“Fine,” he said firmly. “We put our focus on this interview and a couple others I’ve scheduled. When I get hyped up, as you say, I’ll refrain from grabbing you or any other woman in the vicinity.”
“Roman, that’s not—”
“We have some talking to do, Jazz. Tonight, while I guard your body. We’ll talk.”
The fact that she didn’t look happy about the prospect made him hesitate before he opened his car door.
“Jazz?”
She turned her head toward him. He felt a surge of power when she responded to the nickname.
“She’s right, you know. About the music. I do love Jazz.”
****
“A workaholic,” Jan said from the passenger seat, as Roman navigated Highway 101.
“Ultra-conservative,” Roman added to their debrief of Cliff Barker.
“Ambitious.”
Roman squinted at his speedometer and eased up on the accelerator. “Short fuse.”
Nodding, Jan said, “Perfectionist.”
“Out to rid the world of liberals.”
“Determined to save people from their worst selves. Thus, the anti-porn and anti-abortion stance.”
“Yeah,” Roman said, slowing down and easing off the road. “Cliff was sharp-looking, confident, charismatic, and a dynamo at raising money. I can see why the mayor wants to be just like him.”
Nodding at his assessment, Jan noted Roman was guiding his Beemer to a parking place next to a winery. “Did all those interviews make you thirsty or do we have yet another interview at the Laetitia Winery?”
With a smile, Roman said, “No interview. I figured we’d mix pleasure with business. We’ll taste some wine, buy a few bottles we like and talk about our interviews over wine and snacks in the sun.”
“Great. I’m exhausted from watching you work. Stop me if I grab the bottle from the server and glug the whole thing down.”
When he opened her car door and helped her out, he was chuckling. “Pity I didn’t bring a camera.”
Jan looked forward to a glass of wine coupled with food, but was sure she’d scream if she had to watch Roman interact with yet another stranger.
Charmed and dangerous was Roman Keller, skilled beyond belief at getting people to talk about personal, sometimes private stuff. He’d matched tone, vocabulary, and posture with each interviewee, seeming fair and objective as he asked probing questions about Barker. Even with the semi-hostile types, Roman came off as a young Tom Brokaw, the kind of guy you’d open up to.
As they got out of the car, she figured out why she reacted so negatively to his shtick when she should have been impressed by it. She secretly craved his attention, was envious of those he’d interviewed all day, to the point she’d explode if he charmed one more stranger. Forget chugging a bottle of wine; she might hit the wine girl over the head with it.
Out of jealousy? Good Lord, she hoped not.
Jan was so embarrassed about her crazy thoughts, she almost missed the feel of Roman’s hand on her elbow, guiding her into the winery. What the hell was happening to her? She was wound tighter than a spring, hyper aware of his personality. Needy. Damn that he made her feel needy. Strange that she couldn’t remember any occasion when she’d struggled to win Frank’s attention.
“Welcome to Laetitia Winery.”
Sure enough, the wine girl was pretty and young. Eager, too. Roman would positively shine with this one; they’d be best buds in three minutes flat.
Jan realized Roman hadn’t responded to the girl and glanced at him. He was staring at Jan, seeming concerned.
With a squeeze of her arm, he asked, “Jazz?”
She let out a breath, feeling stupid. “Long day. I’m a little dazed, is all.”
With a wave of dismissal to the wine steward, he turned to the standing refrigerator, checked over the wines and pulled out a Chardonnay. In another few seconds, he’d settled on cheese bricks of gouda and sharp cheddar. He grabbed some crackers and quickly paid for all the items, asking for plastic glasses and napkins and the wine to be opened. Bag of goodies in hand, he gently placed his hand on the base of her neck and guided her outside to two cushioned seats under an umbrella.
Miles of vineyards rolled before them, looking orderly and lush in the evening sun, the smell of fermented fruit faint in the air.
Relieved they were alone on the patio, Jan sat down. “Thank you. I usually like tasting wine, but today I…”
He poured their wine. “You’ve had enough of strangers.”
Regarding him with new appreciation, she said, “Yeah, but how…?”
Using his pocketknife, he ripped open the packets of cheese and crackers. He smiled as he laid out the crackers. “I’ve gotten used to the drill but I remember how tiring it was when I first started. Shrinks call it schema adjustment, the stress involved in working with strangers on their own turf. Add to that, my subjects can be hostile, or at the very least, guarded. Less than gracious, shall we say.”
He was relaxed and self-assured in this place, as if he picnicked with women at wineries weekly. He hacked at the pungent aged cheeses with his tiny knife, carving uneven pieces off the bricks. When he put together crackers and cheese and offered her his first creations, he grinned, seeming to enjoy serving her. “Hunter-gatherer.”
With a laugh at his reference to her earlier jibe, she settled in her chair. “This is nice. You sure we have to mix in the business?”
“Hell, yes,” he said, gesturing to include their setting and pretending to be outraged. “Otherwise you might categorize this as phony romancing.”
She laughed so hard her cheese tipped off her cracker onto the glass table. “So my words come back to haunt me.” She waved her retrieved cheese at him. “But we put the topic of romance aside for tonight, correct?”
“Right,” he said, making a small tower out of cheese and crackers. “We did. Down to business. Besides his politics, what’s wrong with Cliff Barker?”
Jan took a sip of wine and started her summary. “Actually, the people who don’t like him, including his sister-in-law, abhor his politics. They also said he was too busy working to be a good father, but he expected his kids to shape up and show up when he needed them for display purposes. Seemed to adore Madeline. Photo ops. Campaign videos. No interviews of w
ife or kids allowed.”
Roman nodded. “The housekeeper I talked to the other day, the one who worked for them most recently, said the kids, all grown, rarely came home, even on holidays. Madeline would visit them on her own, claiming Cliff was too busy with work to join her.”
“So he wasn’t father of the year,” said Jan. “He wouldn’t be the first guy who sacrificed family for public life.”
“True,” said Roman. “Yet all his kids went to college and never came home, some settling far, far away. Except Tess.”
“That’s a good sign, isn’t it? They earned degrees and made lives for themselves.”
Roman broke a piece of cheese in half. “True. Yet not a one of them went into politics, joining dad in the spotlight. From what I can tell, they all avoided the press. Tess seems to be the exception. She lives close by and she’s willing to stick her neck out.”
“She’s the key. We’ve got to talk to her some more.”
“Right.” Roman gathered up the extra cheese and crackers. “We’ll pick up Elwood at your dad’s and make sure the General’s okay to spend the night alone. If he is, we’ll go find Tess.”
Jan swallowed the last of her wine and set her glass on the table. “I think it’s time she knew I won’t quit on her.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Damn you,” the General exploded when he opened his apartment door, his eyes drilling his daughter’s. He pulled her into a fierce hug and repeated, “Damn you both.”
“Dad, what the…?” Jan said, her voice muffled in her father’s embrace. “What happened?”
“Where have you two been all day? I tried to call you on the cell phone, but I couldn’t get through.”
Jan pulled away, looking confused. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was helping Roman interview some people, so we turned our phones off.” She sidled into the General’s tiny studio apartment with Roman following behind.
The General slammed the front door and glared at Roman. “Who the hell were you interviewing?”
“I’m writing a documentary. I invited Jan along.”
The General pointed his finger at Jan. “You were visiting people who knew Cliff Barker, weren’t you? After we’d agreed to drop Madeline Barker.”
Jan straightened her back. “I felt guilty about Tess, so I asked Roman to help me question some friends and relatives.”
“Dammit, Janny. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were too wrought up after your fall. I didn’t want to add more anxiety to your—”
The General paced the area behind his couch, then pounded his fist on his kitchen counter. “You never could do what I asked you. We had an agreement, I thought. Why couldn’t you abide by it?”
Roman stepped in front of Jan, thinking the General was working himself into a heart attack. “Sir, I’m the one who encouraged her to stick with the Barkers. Something about Cliff stinks to high heaven. We believe—”
The General grabbed his collar. “Then damn you to hell. Here I thought you were protecting my daughter when you’ve put her in more danger.” Roman tried to wrench away, amazed at the strength of the man’s grip. What would calm him down? “Sir, I’ll apologize if I hurt Jan. How have I put her in danger?”
The General released his grip and turned from Roman, clasping his hands as if to massage the tension out of them. He sighed. “Those weren’t joggers who stopped me in the Euc forest.” Turning to gaze at Jan, he continued. “They were a couple of guys who weren’t happy we were looking into Barker’s past. Threatened me. Said if I didn’t make you stop investigating his life, they’d hurt you, Janny.” He closed his eyes. “They pushed me down the ravine to make their point. Said if I got the police involved, you’d suffer more.”
Jan’s face showed horror, but her voice held outrage. “How dare they threaten us?”
Glaring at Roman, the General said, “If it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t have a problem.”
Damn. The General was probably right. Roman’s visit to the mayor might have worried the man enough to take action.
Jan touched her father’s cheek. “It’s not Roman’s fault, Dad. I decided it was time to stay the course for once. It’s a big step for me.” She squinted and made a fist. “And now that those creeps have threatened us, no way will we turn tail.”
The General’s shoulders sagged. “They must have been following you, Janny. ’Cause they called to warn me again, saying we hadn’t done what we promised.” He lowered himself into his recliner, looking defeated.
Roman willed himself to stay silent, knowing Jan would have to make the next decision. With what he hoped was a neutral expression, he stole a glance at her.
She walked over to her father and squeezed his shoulder, looking like she was thinking hard. “We’ll call Madeline and let her know we’ve changed our minds about running the memorial. We’ll convince her she still needs our help so we stay on the inside of this situation. Next, we call on Tess, tell her what’s gone on and persuade her to give us information. From now on, we work together. Safety in numbers and all that.”
Roman nodded, trying not to show his eagerness. Adrenaline raged. It was all he could do not to grab Jan and hug her fiercely for her feistiness. Her tight smile and slight shake of her head showed she knew what he had in mind. She made a motion for Roman to sit on the couch then sat down next to him facing her father.
The General looked stunned as he brushed his hand over his snow-white crew cut. “What about the police? They warned us not to call the cops.”
Roman leaned forward. “Can you describe the men who threatened you in the woods?”
The General wagged his head. “Hell no. They wore motorcycle helmets and those pull-down visors that cover all but a guy’s chin. Jeans and T-shirts. One guy had a big bandage on his arm, probably covering a tattoo.”
“Good observation, Walter,” Roman said, pleased the General was calmer and starting to analyze. “Anything unusual about their shoes and hands? Smells? The way they spoke?”
The General gave him a wry smile. “You’re thinking if I can’t identify these guys, calling the police is useless?”
Roman shrugged. “I’m not against informing the police even if the creeps warned you not to. The thing is, with such scant information, the cops won’t be able to help us very much.”
Jan popped up off the couch and walked to the little bay-windowed dining room, white-faced. She hugged herself, seeming to be coiled with unspent energy. When she returned to the General, she looked determined. “A man on a motorcycle scared me yesterday morning on my walk. He came at me and I fainted.” She pointed to the side of her face. “This is the result.”
“Janny!” the General exploded. “Why didn’t you say something?” He glanced at Roman. “Did she tell you?
Roman nodded. Had he brought these attacks on by his actions?
Jan stood in front of the two men, framed by the General’s flat screen TV. “I had no idea the man might be intent on frightening me because of Barker. I figured it was a creepy kid, thrilled by the chance to play chicken with me, who got scared off when I fainted.” She held up her hand. “I was only out for a minute and the guy was gone when I woke up. I talked to Pete about the incident and he agreed there was nothing reportable to the police.” She made a fist. “If only we had something to give to the police or the Tribune. But we don’t have enough information to go to the newspaper, do we Roman?”
He shook his head. “Tess threatened you and one of the sons warned Walter. Now we’ve got a couple of unidentifiable bikers bullying you and Walter. What could the police or the newspapers put together?”
“Tess wants us to minimize the memorial, her brother begs us to honor Tess’s request, and the two bikers demand we drop out of the ceremony altogether,” Jan mused. “Although we think Cliff Barker’s history is the problem, the police might not agree. Could be Mayor Simpson is the jumpy one who doesn’t want rain on his parade. Maybe he’s worried about bad publicity before his big announcement at
the memorial. It’s also possible this has nothing to with the kids’ wishes to stop the memorial or Cliff Barker being dirty.”
Roman nodded, appreciating the way her mind worked. “We won’t know until you re-enlist as the funeral planner. Plus talk to Tess. Beg for her help, all the while hoping she’s not the one who’s following us or sending out people to threaten Walter.”
The General pulled himself out of his chair and stood, working his way to his customary ramrod posture. Jan smiled at her dad, encouraging him. “What do you think, Pop? Do we storm the beach or signal a retreat?”
The General growled out his answer. “It’s one thing if they threaten me; another when they frighten my daughter. I’m mad and ready to take a stand against these wisenheimers.” He picked up his cell phone. “We let Pete know what happened and get his advice about bringing in the police. You’re right, Janny. We have no idea who the enemy is even though we think there is one. Until we can identify our rivals, no one can help us.”
The General faced Roman. “Stand up, Keller.”
“Yes, sir?” Roman said as he rose with only inches of space between them.
Pointing his finger at Jan, but keeping his eyes on Roman, the General barked, “She thinks you’re a short timer and I suspect she’s right. But for however long you stay, she’s our top priority, protecting her. Not the story. Do I make myself clear?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Roman said, automatically. Yet he wondered if he could pledge loyalty to people rather than search for their weak spots. He was afraid to look at Jan, knowing she already doubted his ability to choose people over his obsession for truth. Would the General believe him? If the old guy threw him out, Roman would lose time and inroads on Cliff Barker’ story. He’d also lose Jan.
A short timer with people. She’d said it, as had the General. In response, Roman straightened his shoulders and gave the General a determined look. He might not be around long, but while he remained in Arroyo Grande, he’d watch over Jan.
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