Eye of Danger: Tiger's Eye Mysteries

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Eye of Danger: Tiger's Eye Mysteries Page 7

by Alyssa Day


  "You could leave the tiger out of this," Uncle Mike grumbled. "Last time he was here, he ate an entire side of beef. I'm going to have to mortgage the house if he keeps coming to dinner."

  Jack grinned and took my coffee mug out of my hands and took a sip. "Why don't I bring steaks, sir? I picked up a couple hundred New York strips a few days ago and kept twenty or so in the fridge to grill this weekend. I found a new marinade—"

  "Don’t go getting all fancy with your marinades, boy. Tried and true wins all, every day, when it comes to grilling. Let me tell you—"

  "Yes, yes, okay," Aunt Ruby interrupted. "We need to get going. Tess, we'll see you as soon as you close the shop. Bring Lou if you want, dear."

  "I will." I swallowed the lump that was suddenly blocking my throat. "Will he … will my father be there?"

  "You haven't seen him yet?" Aunt Ruby sounded worried and relieved all at once, somehow.

  "He came by last night. It … didn't go well. I'll tell you about it tonight." I didn't want to talk about my father over speaker phone.

  I heard Uncle Mike rumble something quietly to Aunt Ruby, and then she came back on the line. "I think we'll just keep it at the four of us. We need to talk."

  "I wish people would quit saying that to me," I muttered.

  "What? Don't mumble. It's not polite."

  "I said, yes, we'll be there. I'll bring something."

  "No need. I've got it covered. Bye, dear."

  "See you soon, Tess, honey," Uncle Mike rumbled. "Don't forget those steaks, Shepherd."

  "Yes, sir," Jack said, handing me back my coffee mug, half empty. "Will do."

  I hung up and sighed. "How do they always manipulate me into doing whatever they want?"

  "You love them, and you're very good to them." Jack's green gaze and serious expression pinned me in place. "They're very lucky to have you, Tess."

  I shrugged, feeling strangely awkward. "I'm lucky to have them. And I guess we have dinner plans now."

  "For two people who still haven't gone on our first date, we have a lot of meals together," he said, taking a step closer and touching my cheek.

  I blew a strand of hair out of my suddenly hot face. "Yes, and speaking of that, I thought we'd take lunch to Eleanor and Dave around noon. They're at his house, because she's taking care of Dave and Zane while he recovers."

  "You'll close the shop?"

  I nodded. "We're not that busy today, and I need to research the Doltar, anyway. You can drive us to the deli. I'll call in an order now. Meatball sub?"

  He tilted his head. "Philly cheesesteak this time, I think."

  I dialed Lauren's Deli and gave her my order: Meatball sub for me, two teriyaki chicken subs for Eleanor and Dave, and five—I glanced at Jack with a raised eyebrow, and he held up six fingers—six cheesesteaks for Jack. Chips, sodas, cookies, all the extras. She promised to have it ready to go at noon, and I shooed Jack over to his office to check his mail and voicemail for any potential clients. His budding P.I. business hadn't been doing very much actual … business, but, as he'd just demonstrated with the clowns, he didn't exactly need money. The Atlanteans had basically forced him to take a reward for helping save their city, their citizens, and even their royals, more times that he'd admit.

  (I confess, I'd researched Atlantis after I'd learned that Jack had been involved with them.)

  While he did whatever he did in his office, I got to work. I had paperwork to do, payroll data to get to my bookkeeper (yes, I paid Eleanor for the hours she would have worked when Dave got shot, so sue me, I'm a softy), and, always, tidying up the inventory. I hoped some customers came in, too, so I could pay the bills.

  "And you can watch out for the deadly chickens, okay, Doltar?"

  Doltar had nothing to say to that.

  At noon, Jack wandered out of his office with an oddly contemplative expression on his face.

  "What's up? The feral chickens show up on your side of the building?"

  He grinned, but it was half-hearted. "No, strangely enough. I have a case."

  "Really? What? Who?"

  "I can't actually talk about it, yet," he said slowly.

  I was a little bit disappointed, since I told him everything, but I realized his business held a lot more confidentiality issues than mine did, so I just shrugged.

  "Okay. Well, good luck, I guess. Let's head out to get that lunch."

  Lauren's Deli was packed, as usual, with a line out the door of people waiting to pick up their lunch. I kept telling her she should put in some tables for people who wanted to eat in, but she always said people were slobs, and they could take their food to go, so she didn't have to clean up after them.

  I had no good argument for that.

  Jack waited in the truck, making a call, while I went in. Larry from Dead End Towing was in line in front of me, so we chatted a bit, and he told me he hadn't seen any new crashes out on the stretch of road where an enormous alligator sent by a witch had attacked me, causing me to run my old car into a tree. Shelley's parents had died on that road, too, so I was glad that the danger had disappeared with the death of the black magic witch who'd caused it all.

  When I got up to the counter, Lauren looked at me, looked at the two large bags that contained my order, and shook her head sadly. "Tess. We really need to talk about this eating problem you're developing."

  I laughed. "It's more of a tiger problem, really."

  "Yeah, I saw that the hot tiger is out in the truck. Are you two an item? Just …" her cheeks turned pink. "Asking for a friend."

  "We … yeah. We kind of are," I said, handing her my credit card and feeling my face get hot, too. "He's, I mean, I, um …"

  "No worries. I get it." She ran my card and handed me my receipt. "If he has any brothers, though, send them my way, okay?"

  "Will do," I promised, grabbing my bags and trying to ignore all the knowing grins of everyone who'd been in line behind me as I rushed out.

  Back at the truck, I put the bags in the back seat and then climbed in the front. "Well. If you ever want to date someone who actually makes food all the time, Lauren is interested."

  He glanced at me and grinned. "I hope you told her I only have eyes for you."

  I rolled my eyes and said nothing, but l caught myself smiling all the way to Dave's house.

  Dave had bought a hundred-year-old home on the outskirts of town and turned it into a showpiece. He said that if anybody wanted to hire his construction company, all they had to do was drive by his house to see that he did good work.

  And that was definitely the truth. It was a beautiful old Victorian, complete with a tower, a turret, and a porch that wrapped around the entire house. It was a true Painted Lady, in shades of blue, peach, and white, and it was the most beautiful house in town (after mine), in my opinion. Eleanor loved to garden, so the landscaping was as lovely as the house, and the porch was decorated with pots of gorgeous, colorful flowers.

  When we pulled up outside, Jack jumped out of the truck, grabbed the food, and bounded up the stairs to the beautiful wood-and-glass door, where he ignored the doorbell and pounded on the door instead.

  "Lunch delivery for Dave! We brought extra buns!"

  I groaned. "Really? How long have you been practicing that one?"

  "Since I found out he was okay, pretty much." He turned and grinned at me, and the sun struck his head just enough to bring out the deep red and bright gold highlights in the bronze of his hair.

  I had to remind myself to breathe.

  It was one thing to agree to go out with him and banter about it, but when I actually remembered how unbelievably hot he was … I kind of felt out of my league.

  Let's be honest, I really didn't even have a league.

  Owen the dentist had been my league, except not really.

  I sighed, feeling sad, and Jack leaned over and kissed the top of my head.

  "Come on. It can't have been worse than the cannibals and the clown joke."

  Dave threw open the do
or before I could answer, and fake-glared at Jack. "Extra buns? Really? Your best friend has been shot—"

  "In the ass," Jack interjected.

  "Shot, and you come here to mock me?"

  Jack shoved a bag of food at him. "I came here to bring you lunch. The mocking is just a bonus."

  "David, you invite our guests inside," Eleanor called out. "And you two behave, or Tess and I will eat all the sandwiches."

  We trooped inside and crossed beautifully finished hardwood floors to the open, bright kitchen.

  "Nice threat, Eleanor, except there's no way we could eat all of this food," I said, depositing my bag on the white quartz countertop. "Let's just feed them and hope they stop talking long enough to eat."

  Jack pulled out a chair at the enormous farmhouse table. "Why don't you have a seat, Dave?"

  Dave groaned. "I'm in serious pain, here, and you're making it worse."

  "Oh, no!" I rushed over to him. "Jack, leave him alone. Dave, can I get you anything?"

  Dave smiled at me and gave me a one-armed hug. "You, I like. You can stay. Make your furry friend go chase a mouse or something."

  Eleanor bustled over with plates and cups. "Now, you stop teasing that girl. You told me it barely hurts, with the pain meds they gave you."

  I sighed but didn't bother to point out that 'that girl' was her boss. Some things would never change.

  The food smelled so good, we all dove in, and there wasn’t talking for a while. When three of us were nibbling at cookies, and Jack was down to his fifth sandwich, Dave finally spoke up about what had happened.

  "It was completely out of the blue. This guy walked into my office and told me his boss was going to be my new partner." Dave shook his head, his eyes shadowed at the memory. "I was so taken aback I thought he was joking, and I laughed."

  Jack put his sandwich down. "Mobsters don't generally like being laughed at," he said, his words falling like bricks, hard and sharp-edged. "Then what happened?"

  "Then I told him I wasn't taking on any partners, and he pulled out a gun, and shit got real serious, real fast."

  Eleanor made a small noise of distress, and I patted her arm.

  "He's okay now, Eleanor."

  "I know, but it could have been so much worse. You can bet I'll be in the front row in church on Sunday." She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears.

  "Then what did he say?" Jack leaned forward, the rest of his food forgotten. "Did he name any names? What did he look like?"

  Dave's lips thinned. "I don't want you going after them. They're dangerous."

  "I'm dangerous, Dave. They're just thugs."

  "It's too late, anyway," I told him. "We think they're the ones who confronted us in Beau's. So, we're already on their radar. You may as well give us as much information as you have."

  Dave stared at me for a long moment, then nodded. "That makes sense, I guess. I told Susan all of it."

  He described the man who'd shot him, and Jack and I looked at each other.

  "You won't have to worry about him anymore," Jack said. "He came out the loser in a man-meets-truck incident at Beau's."

  "That was him? The dairy truck?" Eleanor raised her hand to her throat. "Oh, my goodness. Rooster Jenkins' nephew was driving that truck, and he was really upset, I hear. The man just backed out into the road in front of him, almost like somebody pushed him."

  I pointed at Jack. "You didn't tell me that."

  He shrugged. "I didn't see it clearly enough to be sure, but I had my suspicions. I just didn't know why, and you didn't need to hear about more violence."

  "Don't ever again decide what I do and don't need to hear," I said evenly. "I am not a child, and that man died after I saw a vision about it. You had no right to withhold the truth from me."

  It took him a moment, but he finally nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

  Dave started clapping. "Now that's a beautiful thing. Jack Shepherd apologizing. This is the kind of situation I can really get behind."

  Jack threw his head back and laughed, and I just groaned. Again. "Seriously? You're telling butt jokes on yourself?"

  "Hey, once a ten-year-old boy, always a ten-year-old boy," Dave said, grinning. "Want to hear some fart jokes?"

  I stood, clearing away my trash. "Okay, that's my cue. I need to get back to work."

  Eleanor stood, too. "Don't worry about that, Tess, I've got it. Thanks so much for lunch. I'll try to come into work tomorrow, but—"

  "No, you won't. Stay here and take care of your boys—where is Zane, by the way? Which camp? I know you told me."

  "He's at science camp with Shelley. They're having a great time together."

  I smiled to hear about Shelley making a friend. "They'll be in the same class at school, right? Or is she behind because of missing so much school when everything happened?"

  "Oh, no. They wouldn't keep her back. She's so smart, Tess."

  I grinned. "Well, she is my sister."

  Eleanor hugged me. "Thanks for everything. I'll be in Monday for my regular hours, if nothing else horrible happens."

  Jack patted her arm. "I'm going to make sure nothing else horrible ever happens to Dave again, Eleanor. I'll catch the bums who were behind this, that's a promise."

  This time, everybody groaned.

  Dave punched Jack in the shoulder, which seems to be "guy" for "I love you, too, bro," and we started out the door. When we were going down the porch stairs to the truck, though, Dave called out and stopped us.

  "Hey. I think I kind of blanked this out before, but you should know it. When that thug was in my office, he picked out a photo of me and Tess with Zane at the beach from last summer, and, well, it was strange." Dave's face turned serious. "He asked me how I knew Tess."

  I felt my knees go kind of funny, but I grabbed the railing. Jack's muscles tensed and he leaned forward on the balls of his feet. "What did you say?"

  "I didn’t say anything. I was too busy jumping out the window after I saw the gun. The rest you know."

  "Thanks, Dave," I said, smiling as best as I could. "I appreciate the heads-up."

  "Damn," Jack said, grinning at Dave. "If only I could have worked bottoms up into a sentence. A missed opportunity if ever there was one."

  We waved goodbye, and I didn’t say another word until we were in the truck. "Why do they want to know about me?"

  Jack's face had gone hard and dangerous. "I don't know, but I intend to find out."

  "You don't think they know about my pawnshop, do you?"

  "Let's assume they know everything. Do me a favor. Call Lucky."

  He handed me his phone, and I pulled up Lucky's number. I may be a fairly brave person, and I was getting to be a better shot, but if mobsters had taken a personal interest in me, I had no disagreement at all with having one or more of our ex-Special Forces friends come hang out at the shop for a while, until we sorted this out.

  "Maybe they left town after their guy died," I said, hopefully.

  "Have we ever had that kind of luck?"

  I made the call.

  10

  When we got back to the shop, there were three black SUVs lined up in front.

  Jack stopped the truck and started to turn around, but I put a hand on his arm. "We may as well find out what they want. It's not like they're going to go away if we avoid them."

  O'Sullivan stepped out of the backseat of one of them and waved to us. "I just want to talk," he called out.

  "I don't trust him," Jack growled.

  "I don’t either, but here we are. Let's ask him what this is about. I'm calling 911 now, so Susan or somebody will be on the way." I started dialing.

  When Belle, the dispatcher who'd worked at the sheriff's office since dinosaurs walked the earth, came on the line, I quickly filled her in, and she promised she'd send someone out immediately. She was a terrible gossip, and not my favorite person, but she was efficient and did her job well, so I thanked her and hung up.

  Then I set my ph
one to RECORD, and Jack and I got out of the truck.

  "What do you want, O'Sullivan? Seems like you should be running off home after your man got hit by that truck," Jack said.

  I held my phone, screen down, against my leg and said nothing.

  O'Sullivan looked at me. "I have a proposition for you."

  "I'm not interested." I looked in his eyes and saw nothing but emptiness, and a shiver swept through me, but I stood my ground. "I'm … I'm sorry about your friend."

  He laughed, and it was an ugly, bitter sound like cut glass on stone. "He wasn't my friend. He just worked for me. And you told him he'd live a long, happy life, so I tested your prediction by pushing him into the road. Hit by a truck isn't a long, happy life. I wanted to see how good your visions actually are."

  "I lied," I said quietly. "But I did warn him."

  "Yeah. O'Brien told me. Just after the truck hit Smitty." He eyed me with a dark intensity. "So, now we want to work with you."

  "Not a chance," Jack snarled, stepping partially in front of me.

  "I don't have any intention of working with you, in any capacity," I told O'Sullivan, moving back up to stand next to Jack. "Please just go away."

  "Remember, when this turns ugly, that I asked nicely," O'Sullivan said. Three of his men stepped out of the SUVs as if by signal.

  Jack shook his head. "Big mistake, O'Sullivan. Huge."

  "Why are you even here?" I could hear the faint sound of sirens, which meant that Jack had surely already heard them, and I wanted to distract and delay them until Susan got here.

  "I'm collecting what's mine, Tess Callahan, and you're just a bonus. Although, I know the Irish always stick together, so if you know Thomas O'Malley, you'd be doing yourself a favor if you tell me where he is."

  "The Aristocats?" I blurted out.

  "What?" He and Jack both looked at me.

  "Thomas O'Malley. It's … never mind. No, I don't know any Thomas O'Malley."

  His icy gaze searched my face, but I'm pretty transparent and a terrible liar, so he realized pretty quickly I was telling the truth, I guessed. And, anyway, the sirens were really loud and really close now.

 

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