Nick, his hands pressed against the dashboard, asked, "What're you doing?"
"Visiting an old friend."
He followed her line of sight to the raggedly dressed man who halted his cart on the sidewalk ten feet away. "Do you know him?"
"Yeah." She hopped out of the truck and closed the door behind her.
Curious, Nick cracked his window to eavesdrop. "How's it going, Southpaw?" Danni asked the homeless man.
"Ain't goin' nowhere," Southpaw replied. "Ain't been the same without you or your daddy round to roust me."
"Yeah, I know." Danni stared over the man's shoulder. "Nothing's the same anymore."
The melancholy in her voice sent a wave of sympathy through Nick. Why couldn't she talk to him like she spoke to this near stranger? But maybe it would've been better if Nick were a stranger instead of a constant reminder of where she'd ranked in her father's life.
Southpaw picked up a Coke can, examined it, and placed it back in his cart before capturing another one. "The Babe wouldn't quit the team."
Danni's shoulders stiffened, and she stepped closer to him, although Nick figured he had to be pretty rank wearing all those layers of clothing in the warm weather. Why would some crazy guy's ramblings interest her?
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Your daddy weren't no quitter. Bottom of the ninth, no outs, bases loaded. Ain't no way he'd sacrifice."
"Then what happened?"
"New team come in." He picked up another can, hefted it in his left hand like it was a baseball. "Wild pitch." Southpaw wound up his arm and let the can fly. It clattered onto the sidewalk some twenty feet away.
Puzzled, Nick wondered what in the hell they were talking about. In a way, it reminded him of the coded messages he'd used on covert assignments, but this wasn't Bosnia or Iraq or one of a dozen other political hotbeds. And the old man sure as hell wasn't an operative.
"What new team?" Danni's words were mild, but from the expression on her face, she was struggling to contain her impatience.
"Other team been around longer. Ain't gonna let go of the pennant." Abruptly, Southpaw wrapped his gnarled hands around the cart's handle. "Gotta go. I'm late for batting practice."
Danni grabbed the cart. "Wait." She dug into her pocket and pulled out some dollar bills, then thrust them at the man. "Here. Buy yourself a Coke and a hot dog at the concession stand."
Southpaw grinned, revealing stained teeth and a gap in the bottom row where he'd lost two. "Maybe I'll get me some peanuts instead."
She patted his shoulder. "You get whatever you want, Southpaw."
"You always was a good girl, Danni." For a moment, the homeless man seemed lucid. Then, mumbling to himself, Southpaw lumbered down the street, stopping to pick up the can he'd thrown and continuing toward some place known only in his mind.
Danni shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and stood gazing after the man for a minute or two before returning to the truck cab. She settled in her seat without glancing at Nick.
"Who is he?" he asked quietly.
She kept her attention focused down the block, on the solitary figure. "Everyone calls him Southpaw. I saw him just about every time we patrolled this area. I used to give him some money now and again. Felt sorry for him."
"What was with the can throwing?"
Danni's attention turned inward, toward some memory Nick wasn't allowed access. "He used to be a pitcher for a minor league baseball team. Never made the big time, except in his mind."
"Drugs?"
She shook her head. "A bat alongside the head."
Nick inhaled sharply, and his gaze followed the pathetic man pushing his cart filled with imagined baseballs. "Where does he live?"
"Corner of Fifth and Dupont, in a cardboard box. He thinks he's at training camp." Danni took a deep breath. "We should get back to the house and let Gus out."
Nick sat back as Danni pulled into traffic, his mind on the strange conversation. "What were you talking about?"
Danni shoved her hair back from her brow. "He sees and hears everything on the street, but his mind processes it in baseball terminology. I think he knows something about Dad, but I couldn't figure out what he was trying to tell me."
"He seemed almost normal at the end."
"It comes and goes, but usually he lives in this ballpark in his head." Danni sighed. "The sad thing is, he had enough talent to make it to the big leagues. Dad took me to a game once. Southpaw was the starting pitcher. I was about seven or eight years old." She smiled self-consciously. "I wore my baseball glove, hoping I'd catch a ball."
Nick grinned, picturing young Danni in curly pigtails, a baseball cap, and her glove, waiting impatiently for a ball to come her way. "Did you catch one?"
"No. Dad bought me ice cream after the game to make up for it."
"So you do have some good memories of your father."
"I guess." She flexed her shoulders. "I wish I knew what Southpaw was trying to tell me."
"Maybe we should look him up tomorrow and see if you can get anything else from him," Nick suggested.
"We can try." Danni didn't sound very confident.
A black-and-white patrol car rounded a corner ahead of them. It slowed as Danni approached it, and Nick recognized Karen Crandle, Paddy's former partner, in the driver's seat. The two vehicles stopped, and Danni rolled down her window.
"What're you two doing here?" Karen asked, her bent arm resting on the open window. Her new partner, a man nearing fifty, leaned over to look at them.
"I used to patrol around here. I thought I might see someone I recognized," Danni replied.
Karen made a head motion behind her. "Someone like Southpaw?"
"Yeah."
"What did he have to say?"
"Something about wild pitches and a new team," Danni replied vaguely. "You know how he is."
"Scrambled eggs for brains," Karen's partner commented with a disgusted scowl on his fleshy face.
Danni tensed, and Nick, too, felt a measure of annoyance toward the cop. He laid his hand on Danni's arm, hoping she'd let the insensitive comment go. Her muscles relaxed, and Nick gave her forearm a squeeze.
"Has there been any word on the street about the shooting last night?" Danni asked.
"Lots of it, but nothing that'll help track down the shooter," Karen said. "You'd think everyone was deaf and blind in this neighborhood."
"That's the way it is here," Nick said.
"That's right. You're from the neighborhood. Do you still know people here?"
"No. Most of them are either dead, in prison, or got the hell out like I did."
Karen shaded her eyes against the midday sun. "I'll let you know if we hear something."
"Thanks. We appreciate it."
Karen lifted a hand in farewell and drove on.
Danni continued down the street, a faint scowl marring her face.
"Something wrong?" Nick asked.
"No," came the succinct reply.
Knowing Danni was again hiding something from him, he said casually, "Nice of Karen to keep us in the loop."
"Yeah. Nice."
"You don't like her?"
"Obviously not as well as you."
Nick recoiled at her caustic tone. "Are you jealous that I know your father's partner better than you do?"
Her glance slanted across him. "Should I be?"
Aggravation took the place of bewilderment. "Spit it out, Danni. I can't read your mind."
Fury flared in Danni's eyes. "Are you sleeping with her?"
Danni's question caught him unaware. His mouth opened, but he wasn't sure how to respond to the unexpected accusation.
"Look, I don't care, and it wouldn't be any of my business, except that if you are, you sure as hell had no right crawling into my bed the other night," Danni said, her voice as tight as her fingers squeezing the steering wheel.
Danni's insinuation that he slipped into her bed and seduced her brought his own temper to its boiling point. "You
're right. If I was sleeping with her, it's none of your damned business. Besides, I wasn't the one looking for sex that night. As I recall, you were the one doing the asking."
Danni's jaw muscle jumped. Good! He'd managed to piss her off as much as she'd pissed him off. What the hell kind of man did she think he was? The kind who couldn't keep it tucked in when he was in the company of a beautiful woman? There was no doubt that both were beautiful. So why had he chosen the infuriating Danni to break his months-long celibacy?
Maybe I'm just a masochist, he thought, because it was Danni he wanted, not Karen or any other woman.
Nick sank back in his seat, crossed his arms, and stared out the windshield. He should apologize to Danni, tell her that he and Karen had never dated, much less slept together. But some stubborn—and self-righteous—part of him wouldn't let him speak the words.
Did Danni think that little of him, to believe he screwed women indiscriminately?
He closed his eyes. No other female could provoke him as quickly and as completely as Danni Hawkins. Yet he still felt attraction humming between them, the same fascination he'd felt years ago for the fourteen-year-old daughter of his surrogate father, when she'd been strictly off limits.
The truck slowed and stopped. Nick opened his eyes to find Danni already out of the cab and striding toward Paddy's neat white frame house. He gnashed his teeth and followed in her blustery wake.
She unlocked the door, and Gus charged out, nearly bowling her over as the dog leaped up to greet her. Danni's stormy expression faded under the onslaught of affection, and Nick paused on the sidewalk to simply observe her.
She was a woman of contradictions: tough-skinned but softhearted, standoffish but passionate, brash but guarded. He suspected she rarely let anyone see the entire package—the real Danni Hawkins. However, Nick was becoming obsessed with learning everything about Paddy's daughter, thorns and all.
Gus trotted over to Nick and jumped up to place her front paws on his waist. He petted the golden dog and scratched behind her ears, feeling some of his irritation with Danni bleed away.
Nick gave Gus a few minutes to take care of her business, then called the dog to the porch. Danni had left the front door open, and he entered with Gus crowding against his legs to go through the doorway at the same time.
He locked the door behind him and stood in the entrance, listening for Danni. He followed muffled sounds to the kitchen, where she was pulling out the makings for sandwiches from the refrigerator. Without saying a word, Nick arranged ham and cheese slices on a plate. He set it on the table, along with the loaf of bread and condiments.
"What do you want to drink?" Danni's tone was neutral, and she didn't look at him.
"Water's fine."
She retrieved two bottles of water from the refrigerator and placed one at each of the place settings. They ate their sandwiches in silence, sharing some of the ham with Gus.
"What's the plan for the afternoon?" Nick asked after the table was cleared.
Danni shrugged. "Do whatever you want. I'm going to wash clothes."
"Would you mind washing some of mine with yours?"
Her glare gave him her answer.
Hoping he'd get a rise out of her, Nick smiled at her thorny expression. "I take it that's a no?"
She planted her hands on her hips. "How about hell no? Do I look like a cleaning lady?"
"From the shape of your apartment, definitely not." He was playing with fire, and enjoying it too much.
"You're treading on thin ice, Sirocco."
"I always did like a challenge." He winked, which made her cheeks redden.
She stomped out of the kitchen without replying.
Nick would've laughed, but he preferred his body without any broken bones.
Danni dumped her last load of clothes from the dryer into a basket. She glanced at the washer, which held some of Nick's clothing. He'd put them in after asking politely if it was all right to use the machine. Her conscience tugged at her sense of fair play. She could have tossed some of his laundry in with hers, but her injured pride had stopped her. It wouldn't hurt to transfer his clothes to the dryer now that she was done. After doing so, she carried her basket into the living room to fold her clean clothes.
Nick and Gus were sitting on the floor watching some old black-and-white comedy on the TV. Nick glanced up at her. "Are you done with the dryer?"
"I already put your clothes in it," she said defensively. She didn't want him to think she wasn't still angry with him.
"Thank you." His quiet voice and direct gaze were sincere.
"You're welcome," she mumbled, then picked out a pair of trousers to fold from the basket at her feet.
Although she kept her gaze averted, she could feel Nick's scrutiny. Maybe she was being churlish, and maybe his sex life wasn't any of her business, but when he hadn't denied sleeping with Karen Crandle, she'd been hurt. Which was almost laughable, because she never let herself to be hurt by a man. Have some fun, then walk away.
"I should take Gus out. She's been penned in all day," Nick said.
She wanted to tell him to go ahead, leave so she could be alone, without his distracting presence. But there was still someone out there trying to kill him, and she'd be damned if she allowed another partner to be killed. "Give me a few minutes to finish up, and I'll go with you."
Nick shot her a startled glance. "You don't have to."
"There's someone out to get you."
"We don't know that for sure."
"You're not going alone."
"I won't be alone. I'll have Gus."
"Can Gus shoot a gun?"
"I haven't taken her to the range lately...." Nick was obviously struggling to suppress a grin, but his eyes twinkled.
Danni found her own lips curving upward. "Yeah, well, that probably means she isn't weapons qualified, so I'd better go with you."
Nick stared at her a moment, then acceded with a shrug. "Sure, the more the merrier."
Danni quickly finished her task and grabbed her jacket to toss over her shoulder holster, which she hadn't removed since she'd donned it that morning.
Nick snapped a red leash to Gus's collar, and they left the house. Danni tucked her hands in her pockets and tugged the jacket snug against her torso. She walked beside Nick with Gus trotting happily ahead of them.
"How long will we have to do this?" Nick asked.
"Walk Gus?"
He shot her a half-annoyed, half-amused look. "Stick so close together."
Disappointment made her frown before she could control her reaction. "Until we figure this thing out."
"And if we never figure it out?"
"We will," Danni said firmly, hoping to convince herself as well as him.
"But if we don't—"
"We will." She calmed her frazzled nerves. "We have to, for Dad's sake."
"And yours?"
His quiet question gave her pause. "Yes. Mine, too," she replied almost in a whisper.
She expected him to repeat what Alex Levin had told her, that she couldn't gain her dead father's respect, but Nick didn't. Instead, he said with a strained voice, "For my sake, too."
Damn, he was always throwing her off balance, alternately pissing her off and forcing her to empathize with him. She wanted to stay angry with him but felt the emotion drain away. Sometimes he and she were so much alike it frightened her. Other times, it was as if they were from two diverse universes.
She sensed he had something more on his mind but didn't know if she had the right to pursue it. Especially since she'd already treaded on forbidden ground by asking him about Karen Crandle.
"Would he still be dead if I'd gotten his phone call the night he died?" Nick finally voiced in a husky tone. "He never let me down in all the years I'd known him, and the one time he called me for help, I let him down."
Danni didn't know how to respond. She was torn between being hurt that Dad had called him rather than her, and wanting to console Nick, tell him that Dad's
death wasn't his fault any more than it was hers.
She ended up moving closer to him, so her elbow brushed his as they walked.
The Smith & Wesson tucked into her shoulder holster was a comforting weight against her side. Although hypersensitive to Nick's closeness, Danni remained alert for slow-moving cars and out-of-place strangers. Maybe there was too much cop in her to let down her defenses, or maybe she simply cared too much for Nick. Either reason was enough to keep her vigilant.
Gus trotted along ahead of them, occasionally stopping to water a yard. The neighborhood had grown quiet as children were called in for dinner. They were a block from her father's house when Gus decided to do her job on a sculpted green lawn.
"I hope you have a bag to pick that up," Danni said.
"I don't. Do you?"
She groaned and tugged at his arm. "Then don't let her do it here."
Nick remained immovable. "When you gotta go, you gotta go."
She leaned close to his ear, so close she felt the tickle of his soft hair against her forehead. "This is Mr. Grewen's place. He always wins awards for his lawn."
He grinned unrepentantly. "Consider Gus's contribution as fertilizer."
"That's not funny." But Danni had a hard time keeping a straight face. "As soon as she's done, we have to make a run for it."
"You're not serious, are you?"
Grewen's front door opened, and a tiny man with white hair and black horn-rimmed glasses stepped onto the porch. "Who's out there? What're you doing to my grass? Is that a dog? You get that dog off my lawn! I'm going to call the police and have you arrested!"
Danni grasped Nick's wrist. "C'mon."
Fortunately, Gus was finished, and Nick fell into a loping run beside Danni. Gus raced ahead of them, her tongue lolling. If Danni didn't know better, she would've sworn Gus was laughing at Mr. Grewen.
Nick turned into her father's driveway, but Danni grabbed his sleeve. "This way. If he sees us go in here, he'll send the cops."
With only a slight veer, Nick kept pace with Danni as they dashed past the house. Danni felt like she was eight years old again, running away from mean Mr. Grewen after she cut through a corner of his yard.
Arouse Suspicion Page 16