“Then . . .” Lacey grabbed a white, angel-sleeve top with front tie at the waist and held it up. “What about this?”
“It’s pretty, but I want something . . . I don’t know.” Darla moved to the closet and sorted through it. “This!” She slipped a red, polyester-spandex blouse from the hanger and pressed it to her. She turned for Lacey to have a look. “I love it.”
The sexy, sleeveless top had a black, stud-accented wraparound collar. Edgy chic was what the tag had said—way past school-kid geek.
Lacey pursed her lips. Three weeks ago you would have turned up your nose, she wanted to say, but didn’t. “If you think you’ll be comfortable in it,” she offered instead.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Darla gave her a haughty stare.
Lacey smiled to cover her true feelings. “Try it on.”
Darla tore off the top she was wearing, along with her bra, and pulled it over her head. “I’ll be comfortable in anything as long as I’m with Randy.”
The blouse was too big, which was good because it didn’t cling and lost some of its va-va-voom.
Lacey nodded and took out her phone. “I’ll tell Jake to give us half an hour and we’ll see what he thinks.”
A half hour later Jake was telling Darla that she looked beautiful.
Darla blushed.
Lacey grinned. The blood that flowed to color Darla’s face had to mean she could feel Jake’s attraction to her.
“You’ve grown up.” Jake’s tone was almost wistful and there was a stunned quality to the expression on his face. Maybe it was cruel to have him come up and see Darla dressed to go out with another man. But, damn it. Why didn’t he speak up?
Darla smoothed the blouse she wore and looked down at the floor.
Lacey folded her arms. They’re both acting like they’re in third grade. It might be cute if—
The doorbell rang.
If there weren’t a ravenous wolf at the door.
Jake was the first one out of the room and down the stairs. He swung the door wide and Lacey could see Randy was surprised to find a virile, attractive male before him.
“Ah. I’m here for Darla.”
Jake and Randy eyed each other like alpha whitetail bucks ready to lock horns, although Randy maintained a smile while Jake’s face held a look of contempt.
“I’m right here.” Darla stepped between the two men and took Randy’s hand.
Randy glanced at Lacey as he put an arm around Darla, pausing a moment before he guided her out the door.
“Take care,” Jake called. “Eighteenth birthday coming up. We’d all like to celebrate.”
Randy didn’t look back. He opened the car door and helped Darla get in. Then he walked around and sank into the driver’s seat.
“You’re a little obvious there, bud,” Lacey said as Jake watched the Lexus drive away.
“Yeah? So is he.”
Lacey laughed. Jake headed for the back door. “Hey,” she called. “Give me a ride tomorrow?”
“Sure. What’s wrong with your car?”
“Nothing. It’s what’s wrong with the neighborhood.”
Jake shrugged and didn’t ask for an explanation. Either he wasn’t concerned or his thoughts were still on Darla going out with another alpha buck.
Eighteen
LACEY SETTLED IN at the computer in her father’s office and Googled, Binged and Yahooed the name Tiffany Class. All she found was information on Tiffany glass.
By eight o’clock, Henry still hadn’t brought Edward home and Lacey had taken to looking out the window. What could Edward possibly be discussing with Maggot for all this time? She was ready to get in her car and go find out when the front door opened and not only did Edward walk in, but so did Marnie the reality TV wannabe, Uncle D, and Dan-the-Man.
Dan came toward her. “I called you. You never called back.”
“I’m protecting my heart.”
Dan gave her a confused stare.
“I guess that’s her,” Reality said, glancing at Lacey, looking bored. “Can I go home now?”
Uncle D popped a Tums into his mouth. “I need you to be sure.”
“Then I’m sure. If it’ll get me home.”
“Look at her for real.”
Reality frowned. She stared for two full seconds. “I’m sure.”
“Good.” Uncle D turned to Lacey.
Lacey cocked her head. “What? She’s sure she saw me today? She did. You could’ve just asked.”
Reality raised a hand that said: There you go.
“I need to sit down,” Edward grumbled. He led everyone to the sitting room.
Lacey took a wingback chair and crossed her arms and legs. “Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” She looked at Dan. He stood in a corner, stiff and serious. She looked at Uncle D.
“Someone murdered Pete Stark.” The detective popped another Tums.
“Maggot’s dead?” A weird sensation moved through Lacey. She didn’t like the guy, but it was strange to think she’d just talked to him and now he was deceased.
“Who’s Maggot?” Uncle D asked.
“That’s what I call Stark.”
“He wasn’t a maggot!” Reality was suddenly outraged. “He was the best boss I ever had.”
“Let me guess. A boss with benefits.” Lacey sounded as pissy as she felt.
The receptionist glared at her and pointed. “She’s the killer.”
“Oh, please. When I left he was alive and you know it.”
Reality smirked. “That’s true. We even made love on the desk after you left. But then I went for an audition. You must have come back.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To take back the money.” Reality tossed her head. “He gave me a thou. He was generous that way.”
“I see. You’re the receptionist with benefits.” Lacey unfolded her arms.
“How about that, Miss Bouquet?” Uncle D stared at her with no expression and Lacey wondered if this was his version of the third degree.
“I didn’t come back. I went home.” She left out the part about waiting in her car for Tiffany Class to come out of the Hotel Pamela. She still wanted to talk to Tiffany before she told the police about her. Maybe it was unwise, but Tiffany was the key to something and she wanted to make sure she was in on knowing what that something was.
“Why’d you go see Stark?”
“I wanted to know what he had on Edward.”
Edward banged his cane. “He had nothing on me, you twit.”
Uncle D turned to him calmly. “You say he wasn’t blackmailing you.”
“Preposterous.”
“Then why did you show up at his office with cash and jewelry?”
“To pay off Harper’s debt. He hired him, not me. Stark wanted his money.”
“Why not take it to the executor of the estate? Let the estate pay. Why try to pay it yourself?” Another Tums.
“I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Lacey choked and the detective looked at her. “What did Stark tell you?”
She thought fast. She couldn’t say “nothing” since she’d given Stark money and they seemed to know about it. She could say he promised her information, but now that he was dead that seemed a little weak. She could tell them about the blonde, but not that he’d given her a name or the pictures. It would only be a half-truth and a slippery slope. She could manage it. “I learned next to nothing. He told me about a blond woman he was hired to find.” She saw Edward’s jaw twitch.
“And?” the detective prodded.
“And he would keep me posted.”
“You don’t know anything about a file?”
“He didn’t show me a file.” That was true enough.
“I didn’t ask you that. I said know anything about.”
Uncle D was smart. Lacey motioned with her hands. “Well, if he had a case, obviously there was a file.”
The investigator’s face grew hard. He looked the way detectives lo
oked in old Humphrey Bogart movies. “We know he made up a hard copy file to give to Edward. You didn’t go back and tear the place up looking for it?”
“No.”
“Somebody did. It’s missing. It was also erased from the computer.”
“I never saw any file.”
Uncle D took a small radio from a pocket and pressed a button. “We’re ready now.” The front door opened and there came the sound of more people entering the house. When two intruders appeared at the sitting room door, it was clear they were cops. “And you didn’t go back for your money?” Uncle D repeated.
“No. I told you.”
“How much did she pay him?” He tossed the words over his shoulder at Reality, eyes still on Lacey.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars,” the receptionist said with conviction.
Lacey suppressed a smile. Reality was too dumb to think the boss-with-benefits might lie to her.
Uncle D handed Lacey a warrant. “We’re going to search your room and your car, Ms. Bouquet. We’ve checked with your bank and know you didn’t redeposit anything or visit your safety deposit box after the first time this morning. So either you left the money with Stark or you went back and killed him.”
Lacey’s stomach did the back flip and landed on its belly.
“Taking your money back and the file. Our search should determine the truth. We want that file. We intend to find it.”
“If it’s here,” Dan interjected.
Was he defending her?
Uncle D maintained his stern expression. “You want to save us the trouble?”
Lacey shook her head. “What you’re looking for isn’t here.”
Lacey, Edward, Reality, and Dan stayed in the sitting room while the search took place.
“This is a big house.” Reality was suddenly aware of her surroundings. “You work in television or something?”
Everyone ignored her.
“What did Stark really tell you?” Edward hissed at his granddaughter.
“What is there to tell?” Lacey’s glare made Edward look away. She glanced at Dan, still in the corner, eyes on her. Protect your heart, she thought and folded her arms. “Thought it was unethical for you to see me. But I guess not, if you’re here in an official capacity. Did you make detective?”
Dan came closer and his expression showed concern. “They don’t have enough to really suspect you of murder.”
Lacey stopped breathing for a second. To hear the cops’ suspicions put that way for the second time was frightening.
“But if you’re lying to them about anything, that’s not good.”
Protect your heart. Don’t be taken in by the I’m-your-friend move. “Why are you here?”
“My uncle asked me to come.”
“So I’d see a friendly face and cave? Only your face hasn’t looked friendly all evening.”
“You two should get a reality show,” Reality said.
“Shut up,” Lacey snapped.
The search didn’t take long. The warrant was limited and the cops came up empty.
Edward went to bed. The search team, Uncle D and Reality left. Dan remained behind and came close to Lacey.
“You want me to stay?”
“For what? You’ve served your ethical purpose.” Inside she winced at her words. She did want him to stay—like the last time when he’d kissed her.
She walked to the kitchen and he followed.
“You don’t need brandy to get through this,” he said.
“Through what? Being suspected of murder? Do they think I killed my father, too?”
“No.”
“Thank heaven for small favors.” She put the kettle on to boil as tears threatened to shed. She kept her back to Dan. Maybe he should leave before the two of them were swimming in salt water. “Go,” she said.
“Lacey . . .”
His voice was soothing and for a second she closed her eyes. “Dan. Dan-the-Man. Ticket Master. Mr. I’m-So-Ethical-I-Never-Do- Anything-Wrong.” She took the cherry brandy from the cupboard and immediately felt his hands on her arms, his cheek against the back of her head.
He whispered. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have stayed away.”
Now she was really going to cry. “Don’t tell me that if you’re going to run away again.”
“I didn’t run away.”
“Yes, you did.”
“We have to take this slow.”
“We—” She stopped herself. He was right. He had his reason: Ethics. And now she had hers: Tiffany. She couldn’t let Dan know about that. Not yet, anyway. “Better go,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of brandy to drink.”
He hesitated.
“I mean it. You should go.”
It took several silent seconds, but then he did as she asked.
She stared at the bottle of brandy. She didn’t need it. Didn’t even want it. She put it back in the cupboard.
What she needed was answers. What she wanted was Dan. But she’d pushed him away.
Nineteen
LACEY AND JAKE sat at the kitchen table eating cereal in the apartment above the long garage. Henry was away, driving Edward to the men’s club.
Lacey stared at the few remaining circles of toasted oats she had left to eat and then eyed Jake. “How long will Henry stay on the job do you think?”
Jake glanced at her, but didn’t answer.
“I mean. Since Harper left him a bit of money. There are probably things—”
“He won’t quit.” Jake swallowed some pulpy orange juice. “What else is he going to do?”
“Travel. Go hunting, fishing, ride the rails. Whatever retired men do.”
“He likes cars. He likes taking care of them and driving them.”
“He can buy his own.”
“He might buy a Corvette and a beater to restore. But he won’t quit. He likes you and Darla.”
Lacey smiled and took her last bite of Cheerios. “Your dad’s worked here a long time.”
“Yeah. A long time.” Jake finished eating and put down his spoon.
“What do you think he knows about the family? My family.”
“He’s tightlipped. I wouldn’t have a clue. All done?”
She pushed her bowl away and he took it along with his to the sink.
“The two of you came here after Darla was born so he never met my mother.”
Jake looked at her. “You suddenly have a deep-seated interest in hearing about your mother?”
“Not suddenly, not really. Anyway, you find that strange?”
He shrugged. “I guess not.”
“It isn’t just her I want to know about. Your father might have information because Harper talked out of school when Henry drove him somewhere or because Edward drinks too much and drunks get sloppy.”
“What is it you think there is to learn?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be wondering.”
Jake chuckled and shoved the dishes in the dishwasher. “Yeah. That’s the thing about wondering. Let’s go.” He tossed a helmet her way and she caught it.
They headed for the door.
“How was Darla’s date last night with Mr. I-Think-I’m-Fabulous? Or have you talked to her? Is she still asleep?”
“Still asleep.” Lacey put the helmet on so he wouldn’t see her purse her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that Darla didn’t come home last night, for the second night in a row.
They rode to the hotel and when Lacey hopped off the bike, Jack did as well. He frowned at the Hotel Pamela; clearly, he didn’t like the looks of it either. “This is where we’re going?”
“This is where I’m going,” Lacey corrected. “You stay with the bike.”
He took a breath and cocked his head. “Okay. This is your pony show. But if you’re in there too long, I’m coming after you.”
Lacey grinned.
“What?” His brow dipped.
“You’re being protective and I thought you reserved that side of you for Darla.”
Lacey stared at the hotel. People lived in this place. If they survived the stench—the air had to be as putrid as the place looked—she could endure a third of an hour. “Twenty minutes. If she’s here I’ll . . .” Her voice trailed.
“She who?” Jake cocked his head.
Lacey hadn’t explained and didn’t really want to yet. “I’ll let you know.” She jogged across the street before he could ask more questions.
The lobby had all the makings of a B movie, forties film noir—a filthy office behind security bars and bullet-proof glass, manned by an even more offensive-looking concierge. Fat, sporting a stained tank top that didn’t fully cover his big belly, the man watched a small TV with his feet propped up on a messy desk. One hand rested atop a bottle of Budweiser, pushing it into his midsection.
Lacey detected the odor of alcohol and sweat as she stepped to the counter where a small cutout allowed for the passing of keys and money. She rubbed her throat to get her voice working. “Excuse me,” she squeaked, and then she said it again, louder this time to make certain he heard. He glanced at her and went back to the TV. Ire overcame nerves and she spoke louder. “I said excuse me.”
“I ain’t got TiVo. Keep your pants on.”
Lacey took another gander at her surroundings. “You don’t have to worry about that.” She waited half a second. “I’m looking for someone.”
“They ain’t here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I don’t keep track’a nobody. Not even my wife.”
He was married? Lacey wondered what the Mrs. was like. She took out the photo of Tiffany and plastered it against the glass. “Could you please take a look and tell me if she’s here?”
He glanced from his chair. “Nope.”
“Come on. Get your exercise for the day.”
That got his attention and he lowered a brow. “Was that a crack?”
“If it’ll get you out of that chair.”
He waved her off. There was only one solution. She took two twenties from her wallet and slid them through the cutout. Yesterday and today were getting expensive.
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