Tabitha blinked again, suddenly aware of a crowd of people around them chattering to each other about her and her well-being.
“…call an ambulance…see what happened?…quite the hero…should have looked before she…totally cute sandals…”
Inspector Darling eased himself off of her. “You’re trembling. Do you think you can stand?”
Nodding, she let him take her hands and gently pull her to her feet. She could feel the strength in him, in his muscular body, as he easily brought her up. He slipped his arm around her waist to steady her, and she realized she liked the feeling a lot.
For one outrageous moment, she wanted him to put his arms around her and hold her close. Reassure her she was okay. Maybe pamper her a little. She glanced longingly at his shoulder and thought it would be comforting to lay her head there, sink into him, absorb his warmth, his strength. He was the kind of man who made a woman feel safe, and though she wanted nothing else from him, for some reason, at that very moment, she wanted that.
He retrieved his glasses from the pavement and put them back on, making him look more adorable and approachable than ever. She started to say something, but before the words would form, the gripman was beside them, his gray eyes worried, his fiery red hair tangled as though he’d been running his fingers through the long strands.
“You okay, miss? Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, er, the crap, er, the stuffin’, I mean. You ought to know better than to come running out in the street like that—”
“I didn’t,” she interrupted. “I was pushed.”
He drew in his chin and gave her a questioning look. “Naw. You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not.”
Inspector Darling flashed his badge. “I’ll need your statement, Mr.—”
“Greevey,” the gripman said. “Mick Greevey.”
“I’ll need a statement from you, Mr. Greevey, and the passengers on the car as well.”
Mr. Greevey gave Tabitha an anxious look. “Somebody really pushed you? You okay?”
As she thanked the gripman for his concern and assured him it wasn’t his fault, two police cars pulled up from opposite directions, their sirens cutting off in midblare. She felt Nate squeeze her arm for a moment, then let her go while he went to talk to the uniformed officers who had begun making their way through the crowd. When he presented his badge, all four of them snapped to attention, flicked glances at her, then at the onlookers, nodded, and moved to begin working a little crowd control and talking to some of the witnesses.
When the detective returned to her side, he gently took her by the elbow and escorted her to one of the police cars. “You’ll be more comfortable sitting down while I get your statement.”
It only took a few minutes to relay what had happened, after which he spoke to Mr. Greevey, while the uniformed officers talked to passengers on the cable car and the bystanders on the sidewalk.
When all was said and done, nobody had seen anybody push Tabitha in front of the cable car, although those who noticed anything at all wondered why she seemed to leap from the sidewalk right into its path.
Tabitha rubbed her arms. An hour had passed since the incident, and every muscle and bone in her body had stiffened. Her skirt was torn, her knees bruised, and her hands scraped raw from the hot asphalt, making the prospect of waiting for a bus or cable car home seriously daunting.
As though reading her thoughts, Darling said, “I’m taking you home.”
She smiled and hoped the gratitude showed in her eyes.
“My car’s this way.” He gestured with his left hand at the parking garage just up the street.
She stared at his fingers. No ring. She hadn’t noticed that before, but then, she hadn’t looked before. Not that it mattered. Either he wasn’t married or he was the kind who didn’t wear a wedding band. Either way, it made no difference to her. Well, maybe a little difference.
A small trill of something buzzed up her spine at the sight of his empty ring finger and the possibilities it presented, not that she was interested in possibilities with Nate Darling. Yet every time she saw him, she seemed to find herself drawn in a little more.
“Why were you following me?” she asked, brushing dirt off the sleeve of her blouse.
“I didn’t really mean to.” He escorted her through the crowd of pedestrians all hurrying about their business. “I was just coming out of the garage when I happened to see you at the intersection. Serendipity.”
They walked in silence for the few minutes it took to reach his car, a late-model metallic charcoal Honda sedan. One hand still on her arm, he opened the passenger door with the other. Before she got in, Tabitha turned to face him.
“You saw me on the corner, but you didn’t see who pushed me?”
“Sorry. I wasn’t looking right at you at that moment, uh, exactly.”
“Where were you looking?”
His eyes flicked away. “Let’s just say I’m your typical disgusting male and leave it at that.”
She made a tsk sound with her mouth. “You were ogling my chest.”
His cheeks flushed and he looked a little sheepish. “Uh, no, ma’am. Actually, there was this girl standing next to you on the curb, and she was wearing these shorts and this crop top thing, and, well, I—”
Tabitha’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “You were ogling the chest of the girl standing next to me?”
“Isn’t that better than ogling your chest?”
She wasn’t sure. True, nobody’d ever called her busty, but nobody’d ever called her flat, either.
“You’re right,” she sighed. “You are disgusting. If you hadn’t been lusting after some bimbo, you might have seen who pushed me.”
Lowering his head, he gave her a bashful smile and blinked innocently. He looked like a little boy about to confess he’d hacked the Pentagon’s computer system just to see if he could. He was absolutely adorable.
Tabitha felt her resistance begin to puddle.
“God knows I’ve tried to overcome it,” he said, obviously not sorry at all. “But how was I to know what was going to happen? I’m not psychic.”
They eyed each other as she slid into the black leather seat and fastened her safety restraints. With a slight twist to his mouth, he continued, “By the way, if you’re so psychic, how come you didn’t know you were in danger before it happened?”
She watched as he closed her door and walked to the driver’s side, a cocky look on his face. So smug.
Over the years, she’d dealt with others in law enforcement who’d treated her abilities with the same casual disrespect, so she wasn’t surprised at Inspector Darling’s attitude. Not surprised, but a little disappointed. Something inside her wanted him to be better than that.
When he settled in next to her, she drawled, “Listen, Inspector Gadget—”
“Wow, so original. You’re just mad because I wasn’t ogling your bosom.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my bosom.”
“No kidding,” he said under his breath while not looking at her or the bosom in question. “It’s just that hers was exhibited in such a way that made ogling a mandate.”
A mandate? Testosterone-driven idiot.
Ignoring her rising irritation, she said, “My psychic abilities are somewhat…mitigated. I’m tactile and don’t get much unless I touch a person or object. You might try keeping an open mind.”
“I’ve had some experience with psychics before,” he said, glancing over at her. “Which is why I can say with some authority that it’s a bunch of baloney.”
Flattening her mouth, she said, “Okay, actually, I did get something as I was being pushed, but it flashed so fast, there was no time for it to register in my brain before I was out in the street.”
Darling cranked the ignition and headed out of the parking garage.
“What do you mean, you got something?”
“An image, an…impression, for want of a better word. But then I felt the hand shoving me, and t
he next thing I knew, the cable car was bearing down.”
He slid her a skeptical look. “If you say so, but it sounds like a crock to me.”
Finally losing patience, she took a deep breath and reined in her burgeoning anger. “This is California, Inspector Darling. San Francisco, California, to be exact. Renowned the world over for its extraordinary, stupendous, first-rate, A-one, peerless, matchless, five-star, off-the-charts left-of-center views of…everything, including the extrasensory. Like, have you been living under a rock or something?”
“No.” He shifted gears and took a corner. “I’ve been living in Olympia.” Flicking a glance at her, he said, “That’s in Washington.”
She widened her eyes. “Really? Like, next to the White House and Congress and stuff?” she trilled like the airhead he obviously thought she was. When he shot her a look she said, “I know where Olympia is. I even know it’s the state capitol.” She stuck out her lower lip. “Such a grumpy, growly detective. Sounds like somebody needs a Starbucks.”
Pulling up in front of her house, he put the car in neutral and set the brake. But instead of looking over at her, he kept his eyes focused on the distant horizon.
“I was born in San Francisco, but left when I was thirteen. For twenty years in the Northwest, I lived among normal, sane people, so returning to my roots has been like a marriage between Martha Stewart and Richard Simmons.”
“Oh? Which one are you?”
His mouth flattened as he got out of the car and moved around to her side to open the door. As he helped her out, his gaze ran over her body.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“You keep asking me that. I’m fine.”
Abruptly, the twangy notes of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues” began playing in Nate’s jacket pocket. “My lieutenant,” he said, reaching for the cell phone. After a brief conversation, he slipped the cell back into his pocket.
“Tabby?” Tabitha turned to see her mother standing on the porch, an odd smile curving her lips, a calculating look in her eye. “Would you like to invite the detective in for coffee?”
Inspector Darling raised his hand in greeting. “Thank you, ma’am, but I’ve got to respond to another call.”
Victoria nodded and went back into the house, leaving the front door ajar.
Tabitha watched her mother go, then turned to Darling. “Will you let me know if you find out anything about today?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he went around to the driver’s side. Before he got in, he stopped and casually placed his open hands on the roof of the car. “What kind of plans do you have for the week? Nothing strenuous, I hope.”
“No,” she said, wondering where he was going with this. “I teach an adult ed class once a week, but I don’t think that’ll put any kind of strain on my scraped knees.”
He gave her one of “those” looks again. “Adult ed? When?”
What did he care? Why was he so interested in what she was going to be doing, anyway?
“Thursdays at Merced High,” she said. “Dream interpretation. The details are on my website in case you decide you want to take a walk on the wild side and set your staid, inflexible, myopic, rigid, skeptical standards aside.”
He grunted. “I’ll keep that in mind. If you hear from Griffin again, let me know.”
“Yes, Inspector.”
“Stay safe.”
“Yes, Inspector.”
“Don’t do anything foolish.”
“No, Inspector.”
He slid in behind the wheel, put the car in gear, and took off down the street. She watched him go, and realized she felt both exhilarated and let down at the same time.
Sure, he was handsome and intriguing, but way too high-maintenance for her—even if he was interested, which she doubted. And since she wasn’t interested, either, he might make for some sexy fantasy fodder, but that was about it.
Victoria hadn’t been wearing her glasses and probably hadn’t noticed that anything was awry, so Tabitha took the opportunity to sneak upstairs, shower, and change her torn skirt and dirty blouse.
About a half an hour later, she found her mom sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, cleaning out the cupboard next to the stove, while Winkin and Blinkin lay curled up together under the table.
“Inspector Darling is very attractive,” Victoria said as she rearranged stacks of soup cans.
“Mmm, is he?” Tabitha said absently, hunting in the cupboard over the counter for a water glass.
“Tabitha—”
“Okay,” she sighed. “I guess it would be silly and contrived to say I hadn’t noticed. When do Eden and Flora get back from Maine?”
“Tomorrow,” her mother said. “And don’t change the subject. I think he likes you.” Victoria emerged from the cavernous pantry cupboard. She’d put her glasses on, and they sat akimbo on her nose. With her thumb and index finger, she straightened them. Her plump cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, her familiar smile tipped in a gentle grin. “He’s the first man you’ve shown any interest in since Cal.”
What? “What!” Tabitha abandoned her hunt for a water glass to stare openmouthed at her mother. “What are you talking about? I haven’t shown any interest in Inspector Darling at all. I barely know him. It’s been strictly official. How can you sit there and accuse me of…well, he’s incredibly arrogant, not to mention he’s a nonbeliever. I could never become involved with a man who doesn’t understand…well, that’s the dumbest…”
She let her words trickle off as her mother’s smile widened and Tabitha realized she was protesting way too much.
Victoria sent her a skeptical look. “All I know is you left here on the bus, but he brought you home. Did you have some kind of secret rendezvous, or did you just sort of bump into each other on the street?”
“Um, yes,” Tabitha said. “Bumped, um, on the street. You got it.”
Like a freight train into a rag doll. She could still feel his arms around her, the weight of his body on hers, not to mention the look in his eyes when he asked her if she was all right.
There went that feeling again, that warm, melty feeling she’d begun to get whenever she thought of Nate Darling.
As for the “bumping into” thing, there was no way Tabitha was going to tell her mother what had happened. It would only upset her, and what with the menopause, the repairs the house needed, and still grieving for her faithless husband, Victoria really didn’t need one more calamity to deal with. Griffin’s attack had been bad enough, but if her mom knew somebody had pushed her in front of a cable car, there was no telling how she’d react. Besides, it had been a near miss. Scraped knees and hands, sore muscles and bones, no big deal.
“I have some work to do now,” Tabitha explained. “Transcribing for Dewey, Cheatum and Howe.”
Victoria burst out laughing. “You made that up!”
“Yes, Mom,” Tabitha said sarcastically. “I made it up. It’s actually Dooley, Chissom and Hall, but I just can’t resist.”
As she reached the kitchen doorway, she stopped and turned to her mother, now on her knees in front of the open cupboard. “You have plans tonight, Mom? You want to take in a movie or play Scrabble or something?”
Victoria eased herself to the floor to sit on the old patterned linoleum, a cleaning cloth crumpled in her fingers. She gave her daughter a nervous grin. “Actually, I’m going to be online tonight.”
“A chat room?”
“No,” she said evasively. “Not a room, just a chat.”
“Mom.”
“Now, Tabitha,” Victoria said, her voice shaking a little. “I’ve told you before, it’s perfectly safe. It’s anonymous and there’s no way any of the men could ever figure out who I am or where I live. Marlene Gregory—you remember her, she used to sell Tupperware in the neighborhood—well, she met a nice man on the Internet, and I have a friend down at the pier who’s been dating a guy she met through RomanticNotions.com and it’s getting very serious.”
Victoria’s soft blue eyes begged Tabitha not to make an issue out of this, but to Tabitha, it was an issue.
“How much did it cost you to join?”
Her mother brightened. “Oh, it was very affordable. The one-year plan saved me the most money, so I signed up—”
“A year, Mom? Do you really think you can meet a man and fall in love online, and—”
“Why not?” Victoria said, her eyes wide with naïveté. “The only problem is, I don’t scuba dive, or ski, or rock climb, and I don’t know a thing about cliff diving off Cabo.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, it seems every single man out there my age is in great shape, and hikes and skis and ice skates and bike rides and climbs mountains and does yoga, and they’re all looking for a woman who can do all those things with them. Don’t men stay at home anymore? Now, I do walk a lot, but I haven’t skied since I was a teenager, and besides, the arthritis in my knees is so painful. As far as scuba diving, well—”
“Mom,” Tabitha interrupted. “Do you really think every fifty-something-year-old man on RomanticNotions.com is an athletic doctor with the sexual prowess of a seventeen-year-old who’s looking for a woman over the age of twenty-five to share his gigantic retirement fund with? Don’t you think maybe some of them are lying?”
Victoria blinked and widened her eyes. “But what would be the point in that?”
“I’m sorry to break this to you, but those guys aren’t looking for true love, or a soul mate, or any of that crap. They’re looking for an easy lay, or at the very least a woman with a steady job whose bank account they can tap into.”
“You’re bitter.”
“No shit, Mom. That doesn’t make what I’m saying any the less true.” Tabitha leaned against the doorjamb. Softening her tone, she said, “I love you. I don’t want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of, not in person, and not online, either. Cyberspace is filled to overflowing with losers and lotharios who prey on lonely women and have no intention of becoming involved in a real and honest relationship.”
Victoria set the cleaning cloth on the floor next to her knee. “I know you’re very resentful about what happened with Cal, and I don’t blame you. I was, too, after what your father did to me. But I’m moving on, or trying to, and you need to as well.”
Arousing Suspicions Page 8