Liar, Liar, Tabloid Writer

by Suzie Quint

  “Oh, this?” Candy reached for the bag. “I’m trying to crotchet a Halloween costume for Bruiser.”

  Cleo glanced down at the dog, who was sitting on the floor, gazing adoringly at Alec. Better him than me, she thought as she returned her attention to Candy, who had opened the bag and pulled out a bit of yarn.

  “Do you crotchet?” Candy asked.

  “No. I never learned how. My mother’s not very craftsy.” It was hard to even imagine Annaliese shopping for yarn and she’d shop for nearly anything. “What’s it going to be?”

  Candy pulled out a pattern. The cover showed a dog wearing a crocheted tube of yarn. On his back were crocheted butterfly wings. “I’m trying to modify the pattern and turn them into angel wings, but it may be more than I can pull off.” She laughed. “I’ve only done doilies before, and that was years ago when I was growing up.”

  “Have you talked to Loretta since Sebastian died?” Alec asked in a strained voice, pulling them back on track. Apparently, he wasn’t interested in craftsy things either.

  Candy pushed everything back in the bag. “No. I’ve been wondering if I should call her. She probably doesn’t know yet.”

  “How could she not know?” Cleo asked. The woman would have to be in a coma not to have heard.

  “She’s in the Bahamas,” Candy said. “Two weeks with sun, sand, and umbrella drinks. Her husband’s an airline pilot, and Loretta works for the Hilton, so it hardly costs them at all to travel.”

  “Do you know any of the other ex-wives?” Alec asked.

  “I’ve met Donna and Liz, but the only one I really know is Loretta. You know, if she’d kept on working for him, I think they’d have had a good marriage. Well, except for the vasectomy thing. But at least she’d have seen him more.”

  “You don’t seem bitter about your marriage,” Alec said.

  His voice was still tight, but Cleo couldn’t figure out why.

  Candy shrugged. “I knew by the end of the first week we’d made a mistake. I couldn’t compete. I wasn’t nearly as interesting as the casino. By the time the divorce rolled around, it was kind of a relief.”

  “So the divorce was amicable?” Alec said.

  As Candy answered, Cleo glanced at Alec. What was wrong with him? Why was he asking something so inane?

  The twitch was subtle. Was something wrong? He twitched again. This time his mouth twisted for just a moment.

  Cleo frowned. Something was definitely wrong. Was he subject to seizures? Why wouldn’t he have told her? A movement on the floor dragged her attention down.

  Alec pushed with his foot and Bruiser went sliding across the floor on his rump. The dog got to his feet and pounced on Alec’s ankle. Alec’s foot jerked. Nothing in his neutral expression indicated the drama going on down below.

  The dog wrapped his front paws around Alec’s leg and started humping his shoe. Alec’s foot waved back and forth less than an inch off the floor, trying to discreetly throw Bruiser off.

  His eyes still held no emotion, but the muscle in his jaw bulged.

  Cleo pressed her fingers to her lips, fighting a laugh. Shifting her gaze to Candy, who was still talking about how kind Sebastian had been when they divorced, she contemplated her options. If she didn’t rescue Alec, she’d have to carry the interview.

  But rescuing him meant touching the dog. She gritted her teeth and leaned over to scoop Bruiser up. “What a cute dog. He’s going to look adorable in those angel wings.”

  Candy beamed like a proud mama. “Do you like dogs?”

  Cleo forced herself to smile back. “Love them,” she said, faking enthusiasm as the dog wiggled on her lap, trying to escape. She tightened her grip, hoping it looked affectionate.

  Candy got up and opened the pantry again. When she returned, she held out a handful of small dog treats. “Here.”

  Reluctantly, Cleo reached out to accept them, but with only one hand holding him, Bruiser wiggled around on her lap until he was facing her, his front paws on her chest.

  “Ouch.” Did he have to push there? Then he licked her cheek. Yuck. Dog saliva. On her hands and face. She pulled her head back, trying to dodge more doggie kisses. Her eyes were already itching. In about a minute, her nose was going to stuff up. She should be taking two Benedryl right now.

  Alec owed her so big for this.

  Suddenly, the dog disappeared from her lap.

  “Hey there, little fella,” Alec said to the dog on his lap. The dog treats lay on the table in front of him. “He’s sure cute. How long have you had him?”

  Distracted by a need to rub her eyes that was fast becoming torture, Cleo almost missed Candy’s response.

  “I’ve had him since Sebastian and I split. He was a birthday present from one of the casino dressers.”

  Maybe if she blinked hard, her eyelids would scratch the itch. Then she realized what Candy had said. “A dresser? Do you mean Willa James?”

  “Why, yes. Do you know her?”

  “I―”

  “We’ve spoken to her,” Alec cut in. “She thinks highly of you. How did you meet her?”

  Candy smiled. “I found dressing for Sebastian’s life . . .” She paused, searching for the right word. “I guess you’d say challenging. Because, really?” She made a sweeping gesture at her clothes. “Can you see Sebastian taking me to one of those thousand-dollar-a-plate dinners?”

  Cleo couldn’t. Sebastian might have had a taste for women like Candy and Annaliese, but he’d branded the casino as a place of class and style. Women who dressed the way Candy obviously liked to didn’t fit that image.

  “So he paid Willa to help me with my clothes,” Candy said. “She gave me advice about other things, too. She always knew what was going on with everyone, which was handy. I liked her. Though I have to admit, not worrying about what I wore after the divorce was wonderful.”

  Cleo would have laughed, except she was getting more miserable by the second.

  “Willa really took me under her wing. Once I met her, I always knew someone was in my corner. She was almost like another mother to me. Except I could talk to her about all the things you can’t talk to your real mother about. And she was supportive when Sebastian and I finally got divorced. She found this condo for me and helped me move. She gave me Bruiser, so I wouldn’t be lonely.” She smiled wryly. “I think she wanted to be there for me when I went to pieces. But I didn’t. I’m a lot stronger than people give me credit for.”

  Cleo glanced into her cup. The tea was mostly gone. At least it wouldn’t look as if she hadn’t liked it. Candy seemed the type whose feelings would be hurt if a guest left half her tea undrunk.

  “Do you still see Willa?” Alec asked.

  “Oh, yes. We went shopping together last week. That’s when I bought the shoes I need to return.”

  “When was the last time you saw Sebastian?” Alec asked.

  Inside Cleo’s nose, a tickle started. Under the table, she reached for Alec’s knee, hoping he’d take her squeeze as a signal to end the interview, but Candy’s response stopped her.

  “Let’s see. A couple of weeks ago? Yes, I remember. It was his anniversary. He didn’t stay long because he was taking Liz to dinner.”

  “You saw him. Here?” Cleo forced herself to ignore the tickle. “On his anniversary?” She didn’t mean to sound so surprised.

  “It wasn’t what you’re thinking,” Candy said, but she blushed pink. “Not at all.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t,” Alec said, sounding as though the thought never crossed his mind.

  But the blush made Cleo wonder. Then the tickle distracted her. She bit her lip to keep from rubbing her nose.

  “Liz says they were reconciling,” Alec said. “Did it seem that way to you?”

  Candy’s blush deepened. “No. I don’t think he was considering that.”

  The tickle eased for a moment. Cleo reached toward Alec again, only to be forestalled by a window-rattling sneeze. Two more followed in rapid succession.

&nbs
p; Alec stopped in mid-word and both he and Candy stared at her.

  “I’m sorry.” Cleo dug into her purse, desperately searching for a tissue, knowing she wouldn’t find one unless a tissue fairy had visited.

  Her nose was stuffing up. In a few seconds, it would start to run. How it could do both at the same time was one of those mysteries no one could answer.

  No tissue. Not even a used one.

  She looked up to find Alec looking at her speculatively.

  “I think we’ve got enough for now, don’t you?” he said.

  She nodded, silently and fervently thanking him. Now if she could just get out of there before her nose started dripping.

  Chapter 18

  It was a near thing, but within five minutes, they were out the door. Cleo attacked the glove box, hoping someone might have left tissue in the rental car. She came up empty.

  “Are you okay?”

  Fighting the urge to sneeze, she held the backs of her fingers to the tip of her nose and breathed through her mouth. “Allergies.”

  “Something in the house?”

  She nodded. “The dog.” She sounded as though she had a head cold. The need to sneeze abated enough for her to dig into her purse again. Where was the Benedryl? Ah, there. A blister pack of pills in the zipper pocket she never used. “I need water.”

  Alec reached behind her seat and pulled out a plastic bottle.

  She accepted it, mentally tagging him something between a magician and a saint. After freeing two pills, she chased them with the water. She stopped to breathe—even simple tasks like drinking water were difficult when her nose was plugged—then took a couple more swallows as he pulled away from the curb.

  She capped the bottle and set it on the floor beside her. Now she just had to grit her teeth until the pills kicked in. And find something to wipe her nose with. She could feel it leaking. Ugh.

  She had nothing. The smart thing would have been to use Candy’s bathroom and stuff her pockets with toilet paper, but she’d been too desperate to get out of there to think sensibly.

  Trying to be discreet, she dabbed at her upper lip. It was like trying to plug a hole in a dam with her finger. She turned toward the window, hoping Alec wouldn’t notice, slid her fingers inside her shirtsleeve, and used the edge to wipe at the leakage.

  The car swerved back to the curb.

  “What are you doing?” She wanted nothing more than to get back to Annaliese’s as soon as possible and he was stopping?

  He peeled off his t-shirt and handed it to her in a wad. “All I ask is you wash it before you give it back.”

  She looked at him, astounded. What a gallant thing to do. And with him bare-chested, the scenery had just gotten sooooo much better. Too bad she didn’t have the time to appreciate it, but her nose was running. She wiped it on his shirt, then gave up and blew her nose into it.

  Something brushed her chest.

  “What are you doing?” Her outrage was muted by her allergic reaction.

  “You’ve got dog hair all over you.” He kept brushing the fabric over her breasts.

  She swatted at his hand. “You’re not helping.” Sadly, if it were doing any good, she’d have let him continue, but the hair stubbornly refused to give up its attachment to her.

  He ignored her protests. A few more swipes, then he scowled at her chest. “You’re right. The best thing we can do is get you home, so you can change clothes.”

  That’s what she would have recommended had she been asked. Being a man, of course, he hadn’t. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d been through this before and knew what to do.

  But it seemed churlish to point that out since she’d just blown her nose in his shirt.

  ~***~

  Alec couldn’t quite believe Cleo had saved him from Candy’s dog and its amorous behavior, all the while knowing she was going to go through this, but the proof was right there in the seat beside him. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose, and all.

  How did she still manage to look good in the middle of an allergy attack? He glanced her way. Okay, so she wasn’t as hot as normal, but he had to appreciate that she looked like that to save him the embarrassment of booting that damned yap dog across the room.

  Not that she’d admit it. She’d probably tell him she did it to save the dog. Or to keep him from blowing the interview. Except he knew she didn’t care about either. How could she when dogs kicked up her allergies and she thought the interview was a waste of time?

  Not many women would have done what she had. Rescuing him like that was almost a guy thing. Well, not exactly a guy thing. Jackson might have done it to save an interview, but they wouldn’t have been two feet out the door before Jackson started razzing him about his new, furry boyfriend.

  When they pulled into Annaliese’s complex, Cleo had lain her head against the headrest, eyes closed, mouth breathing. She clutched his balled-up shirt in both hands.

  He caught himself smiling. “We’re here.”

  She lifted her head. “Thank God.”

  Inside, she headed straight for the shower. He thought about offering to soap her up, but he doubted she’d be any more receptive to his amorous advances than he’d been to Bruiser’s.

  He stepped into the bathroom and scooped up the clothes she’d left on the floor. The least he could do was keep her from having to touch dog hair again. Even hazy as her form was through the frosted shower door, he got turned on. Yeah, an asexual shower with Cleo was not in the cards. Not today. Maybe not ever.

  Annaliese and Jada had gone somewhere, so he searched until he found the washer behind bi-fold doors off the kitchen. He threw the clothes in, then made a pot of Cuban-style coffee, and went over his notes on the interview.

  Cleo looked better when she came into the kitchen in fresh clothes, her hair wrapped in a towel, but her eyes were still bloodshot, and she kept scrunching her nose as if it itched. He found it oddly endearing.

  He poured her a cup of coffee and set it on the end of the breakfast bar. “Here.”

  She stood, looking down into the depths of the cup, as though she didn’t recognize the object in front of her but was too dazed to be curious about it. “If you think this will keep me going for very long, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

  “Why?”

  “The Benedryl.” She scrubbed her hand across her eyes. “Before long, I’m going to be too sleepy to hold my head up.” She sat down hard on one of the stools and yawned so wide he could have counted her fillings.

  He pushed his notes toward her. “Is there anything I missed?”

  She picked up his tablet, holding it at eye level, so she didn’t have to lower her head to read. A couple of seconds passed before she said, “I need my glasses.”

  Clearly, she was already functioning at half speed. He retrieved her purse from the bedroom.

  Glasses in place, she stared at the paper for a good thirty seconds. “I can’t believe how much you hate gossiping, and yet that’s what we just spent the last couple of hours doing. I don’t see how any of this is useful.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. It kept us busy. I haven’t heard you say one thing today about how we should pack it in and head back to Denver.”

  She looked slowly up from the tablet. “What?”

  “I said―”

  “I heard what you said. So all this was to distract me?”

  “Maybe a little.” He winced inwardly. She was paying a steep price for his maneuver.

  “You wouldn’t have even bothered with her if I didn’t want to leave.”

  The medicine had to be kicking her butt already because she said that without any heat.

  “No, I’d have still wanted to talk to her, but I probably wouldn’t have agreed to the tea party.”

  “It’s such a shame wife number two is out of town. We could have wasted another couple of hours with her.”

  Okay, so she still had enough mental capacity to inject a hint of sarcasm.

  “From the tone, I�
��m guessing I’m going to have to spend the rest of the day hearing about how we should be on a plane to Denver now.”

  “If I had the energy for it . . . Maybe tomorrow.” She focused on his notes again, but he didn’t think anything he’d written was sinking in.

  Ten minutes later, arms loaded with shopping bags, Annaliese and Jada swept in. That was exactly how it felt, he thought. They swept in like a rising tide.

  Annaliese took one look at Cleo and said, “You look tired as hell, honey. Why don’t you go to bed?”

  It was only five o’clock, but Cleo nodded and drifted toward their room. A minute later, Jada went upstairs to try on her purchases. Annaliese poured herself a cup of coffee—black—and sat down next to him at the breakfast bar.

  “So what did you two do today?” she asked.

  “We talked to Sebastian’s ex-wife Candy.”

  “Get anything useful?”

  He shook his head. “Not particularly, but you can’t always tell right away.” Then, knowing he might not have this chance again without Cleo there running interference, he asked, “I’m curious. How did the police know you saw Sebastian the night he died?”

  “They didn’t say, but I took the private elevator to his penthouse. They must have―” She stopped and cocked her head, looking perplexed. “No, that can’t be right or they’d have . . .”

  Alec hated when people didn’t finish their sentence. He always imagined the unspoken ending contained the most interesting stuff. “They’d have what?”

  “Hm.” Her attention clicked back to him. “I don’t know how they knew.”

  Damn. Now it was going to bug him until he figured it out. He took a sip of his coffee. “Cleo rescued me from Candy’s dog this afternoon.”

  “Cleo rescued you from a dog?” She looked surprised.

  “To be fair, it was a small dog, but he fell in love with my leg.”

  When Annaliese stopped laughing, she asked, “How’s the bed-sharing situation?”

  He leveled a pseudo-scolding look at her.

  She controlled her smirk, letting one corner of her lips turn up. “I think Cleo likes you, too.”