Her Detective Wolf

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Her Detective Wolf Page 6

by Alice C. Summerfield


  But still, it wouldn’t hurt to look. And what else was he supposed to do with his copious free time? Aside from rest and recover, that was.

  The apartment that Tessa shared with her roommate possessed the same basic floorplan as his own, Tessa’s roommate living in the bedroom that was the guest room in his own apartment. That he and she had, without knowing it, claimed the same bedroom as their own put a strange feeling into Ajax’s heart.

  Swiftly, he brushed it away, in favor of focusing on the here and now.

  Tessa produced the books, nothing about them strange or unusual to his untrained eye, though they would have to consult an expert to see if they were worth anything. She also showed him the china tea set and her Gilligan’s Island lunchbox. None of it had any real value, at least not to his eyes.

  “That’s it?” he asked. “That’s all you bought?”

  “Well, there’s also the stools, which will be delivered this weekend, and the painting, which is getting framed at Michael’s.”

  None of that sounded particularly interesting either.

  “Well, we’ll have to see about digging up people who can evaluate all this stuff for us,” said Ajax evenly, trying not to let his doubts show. Maybe it was all in her head. But if it was, why would anyone want to kidnap her?

  Unless it was meant to be a crime of chance? Ajax wondered. If it was, that would make things harder, both for them and for the detectives that had caught the case.

  “Your junk shop,” said Ajax. “Would it still be open?”

  Digging her cell phone out of her pocket, Tessa quickly glanced at it before nodding her head.

  “Yeah, I think so,” she said. “Why?”

  “Because I think we should visit it.” Leave no stone unturned, and all of that.

  “All right,” said Tessa. “I’ll drive.”

  Ajax hadn’t really gotten a look at Tessa’s vehicle last night, or if he had, then his head injury had made him forget it. Under the unforgiving light of day, the sight of it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

  Next to him, Tessa said “It’s great, isn’t it?” with all the pride of a parent showing off their baby.

  “It’s… certainly something.”

  It was certainly something pink was what it was.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” added Ajax, and even to his own ears, his voice sounded strangled.

  “That’s because they only made about twenty-five hundred of them, although there are less than sixty left today,” said Tessa. “I found my baby in a dump. Can you believe that? I guess her previous owner didn’t know what she was.”

  “And what exactly is that?”

  “A 1956 Dodge LaFemme,” announced Tessa proudly.

  Well, at least the name suited it. That car was nothing, if not feminine.

  And she had every right to be proud. If she had found that thing in the dump, it showed no sign of it now. It looked cherry, a testament, perhaps, to Tessa’s skill within her chosen career field.

  In the true spirit of the 1950s, Tessa’s two-tone car was large, enormous by today’s standards, with a hard top, modest chrome fins, and generous chrome detail work. Its hood was pink, as was its hard top, the top of its large trunk, and all the trim around the trunk right down to its shining silver bumper. Along its sides, a silver zigzag delineated the border between the car’s pink top half and white bottom. Its tires were jaunty white sidewalls, and all its chrome gleamed in the sunshine.

  Truly, it was a beautiful car, but it was so very, very pink.

  Ajax wasn’t the sort of man to worry overmuch about his masculinity, but he suspected that even Ne-Yo, he of the aggressively masculine pink and red suits, would have difficulty looking like a boss in that car, and that was before he dared to the front passenger’s side doors.

  Inside, it was all pink and chrome with the exception of the black detailing across the top of the dashboard, over the glove compartment, and under all the windows. The window cranks were all silvery chrome as was the actual dashboard, steering wheel, air vents, and map holders. All of the other surfaces, plastic and vinyl alike, were light pink. The fronts of the seats, however, were upholstered with a slightly darker pink cloth, some sort of tapestry on which roses had been picked out in darkest pink thread. Chunky chrome buttons poked out of the dash board, as did dials, ringed in chrome and graced with white hands and black backs.

  It was both cool and unspeakably girly in there.

  I can’t ride in this, thought Ajax blankly, even though he knew that he would.

  What other choice did he have? His car was stolen, and to take a taxi or use a ride sharing app would probably offend Tessa. She obviously loved this car, and she was proud of it.

  But does it have to be so unforgivingly pink? Ajax wondered, even as he manned up and clambered into Tessa’s beloved antique.

  It wasn’t a long ride to the junk shop, but Ajax spent most of it hoping against hope not to see or be seen by anyone that he knew.

  The junk shop proved to be in an older part of town. It was housed in a strip mall, one which was anchored at one end by a post office and at the other by a couple of restaurants. And in between, stretched several shops’ worth of forgotten treasures.

  Tessa nosed her car into a slot at the far end of the parking lot, away from all the other cars and their potential scratches and dings. Ajax understood the impulse. He had once owned a car that he had wanted to protect from other, more careless drivers.

  “I think,” said Ajax, “that we should have a plan of action before we go in there.”

  Tessa blinked at him.

  “I thought you were just going to demand to see their books or whatever? You know, in the name of the law.”

  “I could ask,” said Ajax, “but that’s about as far as it would go. I can’t force them to show me their records, not without a search warrant. And what we’ve got definitely isn’t enough for a search warrant.”

  “So, what are we going to do?”

  “Well, hopefully, you’re going to distract them, and I’m going to see what I can find laying around on their desk.”

  “I don’t know. That doesn’t sound super sneaky,” said Tessa doubtfully. “Are you sure that’ll work?”

  “Not at all,” said Ajax. “But I can’t think of a better plan. Can you?”

  “No.”

  “So that’s the plan then, sugar buns,” said Ajax cheerfully.

  Tessa laughed. “Sugar buns?”

  “Lambkins?” asked Ajax. Innocently, he hoped. “C’mon. I’m the boyfriend. I’ve got to have a pet name for you.”

  “Since when are you the boyfriend?” demanded Tessa, a smile lingering around her full, kissable lips.

  “Since I don’t look like I could be your brother.”

  He’d never felt particularly brotherly towards her, either.

  “And this is what? Our cover story? Do we even need a cover story?”

  “Oh, absolutely, Love Melon,” said Ajax, lying through his teeth.

  At his most recent endearment, Tessa laughed.

  “Keep trying,” she advised.

  She shouldered her door open, and Ajax hung back a moment, enjoying the view. He made up for it a moment later, though, by scrambling to catch up.

  “How about Cutie Patootie?”

  Chapter 05 – Tessa

  Somehow, he kept up with the cheesy love names, throwing them at her across the breadth of the parking lot. If it was his idea of game, then his game was completely awful.

  Funny and fun, though.

  She was still laughing at Ajax and all of his awful endearments as she pushed her way into the consignment store’s door, Ajax following a moment later. Overhead, a cluster of tarnished bells jingled merrily, announcing their arrival to the two men behind the counter. They were looking something up on their computer, though they both took the time to look up and call a greeting to her and Ajax.

  The front room was filled with locked jewelry cases. They lined three
of the four walls and made an island in the center of the room. On the fourth wall, the one across from the front door, there was the counter with its computer, old-fashioned cash register, and battered filing cabinets, as well as a wide doorway that led deeper into the shop.

  Flashing the two clerks a quick smile, Tessa waved back at them. Then, threading her arms through Ajax’s, something that made the man beside her startle, Tessa tugged at him, saying, “I think the other stools were this way, dear.”

  Ajax let her pull him after her, his only complaint “Dear? What kind of love name is that?”

  “A reasonable one,” retorted Tessa, as she led the detective across the room and into the warren of stuff.

  In the next room, the display shelves had been arranged into a seemingly random pattern, the walkways between them narrow and meandering. They felt crowded, even though she and Ajax were the only ones currently walking along them.

  She led Ajax to the back of the shop and then through the doorway there to the next shop, where they made a quick circuit of the room while exclaiming over the things that they saw there, before returning to first room, the one with the counter, the computer, and the door with the bells hanging over it. Now, however, there was only one grey-haired man behind the counter.

  Perfect, thought Tessa, and she tried not to smile.

  Going straight up to the counter, Tessa said “Excuse me, but I bought a book here last week, and I really, really love it! But it’s the first in an out of print series. Is there any way that you could look up the seller for me? Or even just put me in contact with them?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” said the clerk, his haggard face genuinely regretful. “We don’t do that kind of thing. What’s for sale on their shelves is what’s for sale. Have you checked to make sure that the other books aren’t out too?”

  “Yes, unfortunately,” said Tessa. She huffed out a breath, hoping to seem annoyed. “Well, it can’t be helped. But! While I have you ear, can I ask if you’ve moved the red bottlecap stools? There were three left the last time that I was here. My boyfriend and I wanted to maybe pick up the rest of them for our breakfast counter.”

  A frown flickered across the clerk’s face.

  “We might have?” hazarded the clerk from his place behind the counter. “I think I saw them at the back, although a while back.”

  He started to come around the counter, but Tessa said “We bought the other two, if that will help. Maybe you could look up who sold it to me and see what shelf they’re assigned to?”

  “Maybe,” said the clerk, his tone unconvinced. He ducked back behind the computer, tapping a few buttons and moving his mouse around a couple of times, before he said “No, that seller isn’t renting a shelf. But I know I saw those stools recently. If you’ll come with me?”

  “Of course!” chirped Tessa, and she beamed.

  She and the clerk turned to go, but he hesitated when Ajax stayed where he was.

  “Honey?” asked Tessa. “Are you coming?”

  “Nah,” said Ajax. “You go on ahead, Love Muffin. There’s something that I want to look at here.”

  Love Muffin? Who was he accusing of having a love muffin? She did sit ups every day to avoid having one of those! Well, a few times a week. Sometimes. When she remembered, she did sit ups, and as a result, she did not have much of a love muffin. Certainly not enough of one to deserve a nickname!

  Seething, Tessa left with the clerk, leaving Ajax seemingly pouring over one of the locked jewelry cases in the island.

  And, okay, it was just meant to be a distraction. Tessa knew that. But after the clerk eventually found the stools for her, Tessa still somehow found herself saying “And if I bought them today, could I add them to the delivery that I have coming this weekend?”

  The clerk brightened. “I think that can be arranged.”

  And that was how she was doomed. Now one credit card swipe away from owning the other three stools in her set, Tessa headed back to the front room with the clerk.

  I hope that was enough time for Ajax to do his thing, thought Tessa, as she followed the clerk through the maze of walkways between all the tables and shelves.

  When they got back to the front room, Ajax was in the process of having his own credit card swiped by the other clerk. If he had peeked at their records, there was no sign of it, not even any sense of lingering tension between him and the clerk who was checking him out.

  Her curiosity piqued, Tessa moved to join Ajax at the counter but, at her approach, the clerk behind the counter hastily dumped whatever Ajax had bought into a wrinkled brown paper bag. Graced with large, dark brown spots from whatever greasy thing had been residing inside the paper bag, it was clearly the remnants of someone’s lunch. Tessa wouldn’t have wanted her new whatever put into a bag like that, but Ajax grinned at the clerk like he had done Ajax a real favor.

  Looking down, Tessa fished her credit card out of her wallet. Ostensibly busy, she watched from the corner of her eye as the clerk winked at Ajax!

  Men, thought Tessa, feeling amused.

  Whatever their secret was, they weren’t doing a great job keeping it, well, a secret.

  Pretending not to have noticed, she passed her own credit card over in turn.

  Tessa had just finished double checking with her clerk that her three new stools would be delivered with her two old ones, when Ajax’s arm snaked around her waist, startling her. Automatically, she stiffened and sucked it in; love muffin, her foot.

  Ajax gave her a little tug, pulling her against his side, as he settled his arm more firmly around her.

  Tessa gave up on breathing, at least for the interim. On the bright side, not breathing allowed her to better appreciate how good Ajax’s arm felt around her. His skin was so warm that Tessa could feel it through the thin fabric of her t-shirt, the bar of his arm heavy against his back; his grip gentle on her hip. Sighing, Tessa leaned into his side, but only a very little bit. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he was as well as he said he was.

  Looking up to him, she meant to ask if they were done there, but she got distracted. She got the barest glimpse of Ajax’s handsome face, a smile lingering around his mouth, and then his lips were on hers, kissing her.

  Tessa made sure to give as good as she got, purely as a point of personal pride. And also, because he was a really good kisser.

  When he pulled away, Tessa nearly followed him. She would have done it, too, but a quiet cough reminded her of their audience, the clerks behind the counter. It kept her from trying from more kisses. Well, trying for more at that time, at any rate.

  There would always be later.

  “We done here, Love Bug?” asked Ajax, his voice low and his brown eyes so very dark.

  The pet name was like being dunked in a vat of cold water. It totally doused the warm, happy glow that had lingered from their kiss.

  That’s right, she thought unhappily, even as she nodded her agreement to Ajax. We’re only pretending to be into each other.

  It had certainly felt real at the time, though; real enough to be confusing.

  Not that Tessa was confused. Well, not about that, at any rate. She absolutely, positively refused to be confused about that kiss, because that sort of confusion was the sort of thing that led to trailing after a man like a lost puppy.

  But, even with all her resolve, Tessa couldn’t help but feel unhappy about it.

  I wonder if I could change his mind…

  “Then let’s get dinner,” said Ajax cheerfully, and either they were on the same wave length or he was walking right into her trap. Either way, Tessa beamed at him.

  “I could eat,” offered Tessa, nonchalantly she hoped, although even to her own ears, she sounded breathless. If anything, it made Ajax’s eyes go darker. His smile was tight.

  Good, thought Tessa triumphantly. She liked the way that he was looking at her.

  “Then let’s go,” said Ajax and, grabbing his greasy paper bag, escorted her out of the junk shop.

&nbs
p; Outside, it was a hot, muggy evening. The humidity was so bad that Tessa could feel it against her skin and taste it on the back of her tongue. Cicadas chirruped to each other, their calls carrying in the warm, still air. In the distance, there was the rush of passing traffic, while much nearer couples and small families made their way towards the far end of the strip mall, where the two restaurants were.

  She and Ajax didn’t go far, just down the length of the strip mall to the two restaurants, one Greek and the other Italian. Both restaurants had big plate glass windows through which Tessa could see that both restaurants were pretty full, the handful of empty tables in both restaurants sticking out like sore thumbs against all the filled ones.

  “Do you like Italian?” asked Ajax. “My treat.”

  Tessa felt a flash of amusement that the man with the utterly Greek name wanted to take the woman with the utterly Greek first name out to eat Italian. Although, truth be told, everything she knew about Greek food came from the local Greek Orthodox Church’s annual spring fair. In fact, Tessa looked forward to it. Those guys really knew how to throw a party; and all the food was super tasty.

  “I do like Italian,” said Tessa, because she did. Who didn’t like pizza? And noodles? Besides, that restaurant had more couples in it. The other one had lots of little families in it and two or three big ones.

  Ajax got the door, holding it wide open for her even though it wasn’t a date; probably wasn’t a date.

  Inside, the restaurant had white walls, deep red table clothes, and beige upholstery. On one wall was painted a mural of what looked like a vineyard.

  The hostess, a blonde girl in a white peasant’s smock and a deep red skirt, lead then to a small, private table in a corner of the room. It was the sort of table at which a person might be overlooked or even forgotten.

  If this were really a date, Tessa might have taken advantage of that. As it was, she was still trying to think how to take advantage of that. What did people do on not-dates when they thought that they might possibly want to really date the person on the other side of the table?

 

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