The Pajama Affair

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The Pajama Affair Page 9

by Vanessa Gray Bartal


  “This is what people in relationships do. They take care of each other,” Dirk said. He patted Liza’s hand. “Sit, relax.”

  “And do you take care of her?” Sal asked.

  “As much as she lets me,” Dirk said, somewhat ruefully.

  “I can take care of myself,” Liza insisted. She was becoming annoyed with this whole evening.

  “See what I mean?” Dirk said.

  “You should let Dirk fix you up with a new car,” Sal said. “I’ve seen what you drive.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my car,” Liza said peevishly. She was quickly losing patience with Sal and whatever game he was playing.

  “It’s half your age,” Sal said. “If you won’t let him pay for it, then you should at least use his discount. With your credit score you could get a low loan rate.” He took a bite of his steak while Liza’s mouth dropped and Dirk’s hand froze halfway to his mouth.

  “What do you know about my credit score?” she asked.

  Sal shrugged and waited to answer until he swallowed. “I had you checked out when you guys first started dating. Don’t be offended. I do it with the girls I go out with, too. You’d be surprised how often bad credit reflects bad character.”

  Liza wasn’t sure what made her angrier; the fact that he had dug around in her personal life or his blanket statement. “That’s not true,” she said. “My best friend has a bad credit score, but only because a couple of her ex-boyfriends opened cards in her name.”

  “Marion?” Sal guessed. Dirk choked on a bite of potato.

  “How extensive was your background check?” Liza asked.

  “Extensive,” Sal said with another ingratiating smile. “But I heard about Marion from Dirk. She sounds like a trip. I’d like to meet her someday.”

  Liza looked at Dirk. “You told him about Marion?”

  “He tells me everything,” Sal said. “Everything.”

  And that was the exact moment Liza snapped. “I’m beginning to see why you’ve never had a lasting relationship.” She cut into her steak with so much force her knife squeaked on her plate. “Pompous pig,” she muttered under her breath. She took a bite and looked up to see Sal and Dirk laughing. At her.

  “You said she didn’t have a temper,” Sal said.

  “No, I said she doesn’t have a temper unless you push her into a corner,” Dirk corrected.

  “Are you going to look at my teeth and check my hooves?” Liza said. This only increased their laughter.

  “You were right. She’s funny,” Sal said.

  Liza was not amused.

  The conversation turned to the dealership and she concentrated on her food for a while. When Dirk reached under the table she thought he had dropped his napkin, but then he grasped her ankle and laid her foot in his lap before popping off her shoe. He began to gently massage her foot while she looked at him in surprise.

  “Thanks for supper.” He gave her a wink before turning his attention back to Sal. It was difficult to maintain her earlier irritation at him when he was being charming. Instead she relaxed and enjoyed his unbidden pampering for a few minutes before she stood and began to clear the table.

  “I’ll clean up,” Dirk volunteered. He usually helped her clean, so his offer wasn’t unusual, but Sal’s offer was.

  “I can drive Liza back to the dealership for her car.”

  Liza didn’t want to go with him, but of course there was no way to convey that to Dirk.

  “That would be great, thanks,” Dirk said. He walked her to the door.

  “I’ll meet you in the car,” Sal said, closing the door behind him.

  Dirk leaned down to kiss Liza, but she backed up against the wall to escape him. “I think I might be mad at you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Supper tonight was like a frat party. You and your cousin ganged up on me.”

  He smiled. “Turnabout is fair play, Babe.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Do you know how many meals I’ve suffered through while you and Marion speak your own coded language? Half the time I think you’re talking about me, and the other half you’re talking about some inside joke I’m not a part of.”

  “So tonight was about payback?”

  “Of course not.” He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Tonight was about getting to know Sal and him getting to know you. But he and I are close the way you and Marion are close. Sometimes it’s hard to remember to let other people in.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Don’t be mad at me. We were just teasing you.”

  “You know I can’t stay mad at you,” she said.

  He smiled. “A fact that comes in handy more and more.”

  What did that mean? She didn’t have time to find out before he kissed her and pulled away. “You should go. Sal’s waiting.”

  She almost asked him if it was safe to be alone with Sal, but she didn’t. They were cousins and best friends. Of course Dirk trusted him.

  Sal already had the car running when she met him in the parking lot. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  “That was a long goodbye,” he said, but he was smiling.

  She never knew how to respond to him. Was he criticizing her or simply making an observation?

  “I don’t feel that we made much headway in getting to know each other tonight,” Sal said. “So tell me about you. What makes Liza tick?”

  “This sounds like the beginning of a therapy session,” she said. She didn’t understand what he wanted from her.

  “Have you ever been to therapy?” He sounded serious.

  “No. Have you?”

  He smiled but didn’t answer.

  “Do you have other interests besides my cousin?”

  “I have a job,” she said. “And friends.”

  “No pets? Nice girls usually have pets.”

  What was he talking about? Was that a put down or a compliment? “No pets,” she said. “Do you have pets?”

  He shook his head. “So you have Dirk, your job, and your friends. Is that the sum total of your life?”

  “I have a brother.”

  “Dirk said you never see him.”

  “I still love him. I’m involved in my church.”

  He laughed.

  “Why is that funny?” she asked.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, Liza, if it seems like I’m studying you like a science experiment, but the truth is that I am. You’re very different from the girls I know, and I find you fascinating.”

  “Me? Fascinating? Why?”

  He shrugged. “When I first met you, I thought you were possibly the most boring person on the planet. I had no idea what Dirk saw in you, but you’re turning out to be something altogether different from my first impression. So it’s starting to make sense why he’s crazy about you.”

  Dirk? Crazy about her? “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?”

  Before she could get an answer they arrived at the dealership. Sal pulled up next to her car. “This was fun. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  Absently she nodded and stumbled to her car. Shell-shocked was a good word for the way she felt. For most of the night she hadn’t understood what was happening. She felt like someone who had been dropped into the middle of a play without a script. She shook her head to clear it and waved to Sal as he drove off.

  When she pulled onto the street another car started and pulled out of the dealership. She took two right turns and so did the person behind her. She fumbled in her purse for her phone, then scrolled through and dialed with shaking fingers.

  “Link, I think I’m being followed again.”

  “You are. It’s me. Why are you whispering?”

  “I don’t know. It just seemed like the thing to do. Why are you following me?”

  “I drove by the dealership to check it out and saw you arrive and pull away. Does your boyfriend have a chauffer?”

  “No, th
at’s his cousin.”

  “Did you find out anything important tonight?”

  Should she tell him about the guns? Tattling felt disloyal, even though she was still convinced there was nothing amiss. Unfortunately he sensed her hesitation.

  “What? You found something, didn’t you? Pull into that restaurant up there and we’ll talk.”

  She closed her phone with a forceful snap. She was getting really tired of men ordering her around.

  Chapter 11

  Link could tell she was in a mood before she exited her car. He waited to speak until they ordered coffee and sat at a booth in the back.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” She tossed her purse in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’ve had enough girlfriends to know that nothing always means something.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

  They sat in silence a few minutes sipping their coffee.

  “So what did you find when you rifled through his things?”

  She choked on a sip of coffee. “I did not rifle through his things.”

  “But you did find something,” he guessed.

  She sighed. “Yes, I found something. But I don’t want to tell you because you’re going to make a big deal of it, and it’s really not a big deal.”

  “Just tell me,” he said.

  “He has a gun. Or should I say a gun collection.”

  “And you never knew about it before?”

  She shook her head.

  “How is that possible? Haven’t you been to his house before?”

  “Yes, lots of times.”

  “And you never noticed a gun collection.”

  “He doesn’t keep it at his house; he keeps it at his parents’ house. I just happened to see the one gun in the pantry.”

  “What did it look like?”

  She blinked at him. “Black with a large hole in the middle.”

  “Was it a rifle, a shotgun, a handgun?”

  “It was small, so I would guess it was a handgun.”

  “Did it look like this?” He moved aside his coat and showed her his gun.

  She shook her head. “It was sleeker, and the barrel had some sort of attachment on it.”

  He froze. “Do you have a pen and paper in your purse?”

  “Yes.” She rifled through her purse and produced a pen and paper for him. He spent a moment concentrating on the paper before sliding her a drawing to look at.

  “Is this it?” he asked.

  She studied the drawing. “It sort of looks like it, but I only glimpsed it.”

  His hands clenched on the table.

  “What? What is it?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I do,” she insisted.

  He tapped the drawing. “This is a silencer.”

  “So?”

  “The gun that was used in the assassination last week used a silencer.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” she said. “Lots of people use silencers.” She new how absurd that sounded, but she couldn’t remain silence in the face of his accusations.

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Liza, come on. You need to face the facts.”

  “And what are the facts, Link? That my boyfriend owns a gun I barely glimpsed and that I found a message in my pajamas.”

  “One of my girlfriends once broke up with me because I left the toilet seat up in my own bathroom. Yet you won’t turn on this guy when we practically have proof that he’s a murderer. Please tell me the secret to earning that type of devotion.”

  Instead of answering she slid out of the booth and stood.

  “Liza, wait,” he said, but she didn’t. She turned and walked out of the building and drove home.

  Liza needed to talk to someone. She couldn’t talk to Dirk because he was part of the problem. She couldn’t talk to Link because he wasn’t objective; he had already made up his mind that Dirk was guilty, and there was no changing it. That left only Marion, but Link said she couldn’t tell Marion.

  “I don’t care,” she said out loud as soon as she let herself in her house. Marion was her best friend. If she couldn’t trust her, then she might as well give up on the human race. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

  “Marion, I need to talk. How’s tomorrow for you?”

  “I’m off tomorrow. Come over.”

  “Will Puck be there?”

  “No, he’s taking a summer class.” They disconnected without saying goodbye and Liza fell into an immediate and dreamless sleep.

  The next morning she felt better. A solid night of sleep often worked wonders to clear her emotional cobwebs. She debated canceling her appointment with Marion but decided to keep it. There would probably be more turmoil to come because the ordeal was nowhere near over. She would need Marion’s support and advice if she was going to make it through without going insane.

  Liza arrived at Marion’s doorstep unfed. Inevitably she and Marion ate whenever they talked. There was no need to eat twice today.

  “I made coffee cake,” were Marion’s first words.

  “Oh,” Liza said. Marion wasn’t known for her baking skills.

  “Okay, I bought it from the store, but I cut it myself.”

  Liza relaxed and sat at the table while Marion served her a piece of cake. She waited until she had a cup of coffee in her hands to start talking.

  “So the FBI agent, Puck’s friend,” she began, but Marion interrupted her.

  “The jerk.”

  “Yes, well, turns out he’s a nice guy. But he also thinks Dirk is an assassin.”

  Marion turned her head to the side and spit her drink of coffee into her napkin. “You’re going to need to back up and start from the beginning.”

  And so she did. She started with the day the agent came to her house and finished with last night’s supper and coffee with Link. For a long time Marion just sat and blinked without saying anything. Liza finished her cake and retrieved a second piece for each of them.

  “I always thought that if one of us dated a murderer, it would be me,” Marion said at last.

  “Marion, Dirk is not an assassin,” Liza said. “You can’t believe that.”

  Marion focused her gaze on her cake.

  “Marion,” Liza exclaimed.

  “Look, Liza, if it’s a question of whether or not Dirk could be a cold blooded killer, then, I’m sorry, I would have to say yes. He’s always seemed a little calculating. But if it’s a question of if he is an assassin, then I would say no.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Being capable of something and being something are two very different things. Dirk is meticulous, methodical, and able to control his emotions. That makes him a good candidate. But I agree with you; he has no motive. There’s no way someone starts killing people to make his car sales empire grow.” She shook her head. “That’s crazy, and Dirk’s not crazy.”

  “That’s what I told Link, but he won’t believe me.”

  “Link?”

  “Agent Stone.”

  Marion studied her as she chewed. “You like him.”

  “Yes, I like him. He’s actually very nice.”

  “No, I mean you like him.”

  “I do not,” Liza said. “I have a boyfriend.”

  Marion shrugged. “That doesn’t stop the heart from feeling things. And Dirk isn’t the most attentive boyfriend.”

  “Lately he has been.” She told Marion about the recent changes in Dirk. She expected her to be impressed, but instead Marion bit her lip. She looked worried.

  “What?” Liza asked.

  “It’s just that his abrupt change is suspicious. I mean, five years he’s practically ignored you and now all of a sudden he’s going for boyfriend of the year. The timing doesn’t look good.”

  “But he can’t possibly know he’s being investigated.”

  “Unless your house is bugged,” Marion said.


  “Bugged?” Liza repeated. “You sound like Puck.”

  “Sometimes Puck has a point,” Marion said. “If someone really is using your house as a drop for messages, then it would stand to reason that they would want to monitor what’s going on.”

  Liza rubbed her hand over her eyes. “This is like a nightmare.”

  Marion tapped her fork on her teeth, a sound that usually drove Liza insane. Today she barely noticed it. “How reliable is this Mrs. Jenkins?”

  “I don’t know,” Liza said. “I barely know her. She watches me all the time, though.”

  “With binoculars?” Marion asked.

  “I don’t know,” Liza said. “Why does it matter?”

  “Because if she saw the guy from far away it could be anyone with dark hair. Maybe she assumed it was Dirk because he looked similar. But if she used binoculars, then chances are good she knows what she’s talking about.”

  “That’s a good point,” Liza said. “But how do you tactfully ask your neighbor if she uses binoculars when she spies on you?”

  “What’s the point of being tactful? Sounds like she hates you whether you’re polite to her or not. I gave up trying to make my neighbors like me.”

  “’Gave up’ implies that you once tried,” Liza said.

  Marion wrinkled her nose. “There was a week in the beginning where I had a chance of winning them over. Then I put out my garden gnome collection and things went downhill from there.”

  “I think things went downhill when you decided to start collecting garden gnomes ten years ago. Did you ever think they might be the cause of all your problems?”

  “What problems?” Marion asked. “Things are good for once.”

  “That makes one of us,” Liza said morosely.

  Marion sat back and stared at her. “You want to move in here for awhile?”

  Years of friendship were the only thing that allowed Liza to be gracious. “No thanks.”

  “I would clear out a bedroom for you and leave it alone for the duration of your stay.”

  Liza didn’t point out that every other room in the house would still be covered in mess. As much as she loved Marion she would never, ever, ever live with her again.

  “You know I appreciate that, Mar, but I don’t want to be run out of my house like I’m the criminal. I didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t want to leave. Besides, how would I explain that to Dirk?”

 

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