Her smile fled as soon as he looked up and saw her. She leaned against the door after closing it on Heidi’s angry face. Dirk sat back and templed his fingers under his chin.
“So I guess you talked to Sal,” she said.
He didn’t reply.
“It wasn’t what it looked like.”
“Really? Because Sal said a man exited your kitchen shirtless while you were still in your pajamas.”
“Okay, that sounds bad, but you know nothing happened.”
“Do I?”
“Dirk,” she exclaimed. “When have I ever given you reason not to trust me?”
“This morning,” he said. He threw down his pen and sat forward. “Are you going to explain?”
“I woke up to a noise in my room.”
“You sleep like the dead,” he interrupted.
“It was a loud noise. And there was someone standing at the foot of my bed.”
“What?” He gripped the sides of his chair and leaned forward. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I woke up and he ran out of the house. I found my phone and called Link.”
“You called Link,” Dirk repeated. His tone dripped disapproval and disdain. “You found a guy in your room in the middle of the night and you called a stranger instead of me. Great, Liza, just great.”
“He was right next door,” she said. “He was there in thirty seconds. He checked the house for me and insisted on sleeping on the couch.”
He studied her, either trying to decide if he believed her or if he was still angry. She couldn’t believe he was actually jealous of Link. He had never displayed jealousy over her before. She decided to take advantage of the moment. She left the safety of the door and slowly walked across the room to him. He watched while she sat in his lap and pressed her palms to his cheeks.
“Dirk, do you really think I would cheat on you? Don’t you know you’re my world?”
He blinked at her in surprise. She wasn’t usually so bold. “I am?”
She nodded. She tipped her face up for a kiss, but his hands tightened on her biceps and stopped her. “I don’t trust that guy.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because the whole situation is suspicious. We didn’t even know Mrs. Jenkins had a family and now suddenly he’s your new best friend.”
“He’s a nice guy.” She grasped his collar to try and kiss him, but he spoke again.
“Did you ever think maybe it was him in your bedroom last night?”
“What?”
“Think about it. You know nothing about him, and I can tell he’s trying to worm his way into your life. There’s something creepy about the way he watches you. Then you find a guy in your room and suddenly thirty seconds later your neighbor is there. Maybe it was him all along.”
“It wasn’t,” she insisted.
“Liza, you’re too trusting. This guy could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“He’s not.”
“But,” he started, but she interrupted him.
“Are we going to kiss and make up, or are you going to keep talking?”
“I don’t know what has gotten into you lately. But I like it.” He smiled and kissed her.
“Dirk, I need your signature on these.”
Liza’s eyes squeezed shut in irritation. Of course Heidi would find a way to interrupt them. Liza sat up straighter so Dirk could see around her, but she didn’t move away. Moving would have felt like letting Heidi win, and Liza vowed she would never give in to the other woman again. To her satisfaction, Dirk made no move to push her away.
“Leave them, Heidi. I’ll get them later,” he said. His dismissive tone sent Heidi back out the door.
“Apparently knocking isn’t in her job description,” Liza said. She frowned at the door.
“Being jealous of my secretary is a cliché,” Dirk chided. He playfully pinched her side.
“Having a pretty secretary who wants you is, too,” Liza replied.
“She doesn’t want me; she wants my money,” he replied. “Girls like Heidi are a dime a dozen.”
“How do you know I don’t want you for your money?” Liza asked.
“Because you’re not shallow.”
“I am,” Liza argued. “But you’re right. I don’t want you for your money. I want you for your body.” She squeezed his bicep and he smiled.
“Liza, what has gotten into you lately?”
“I could ask you the same question,” she said.
“And I could give you a really good answer,” he said, but he didn’t. Instead he kissed her until they were interrupted again.
“Looks like you two made up,” Sal said. He dropped a folder on Dirk’s desk with a smirk and backed out of the room. “If I were you, I would lock this next time.” He tapped the door and closed it behind him.
“It’s like Grand Central,” Liza said.
“It’s almost like I work here or something.” Dirk gave her one more perfunctory kiss and let her go. She stood and righted her skirt.
“Will I see you later?” she asked.
“I can’t tonight.” He picked up the folder Sal had dropped on his desk and began to leaf through it.
“Oh.” She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “I guess I’ll go.” He gave no indication that he heard her until she reached the door.
“Liza.” She stopped and turned to look at him. “We still need to have that talk. The sooner the better.”
She nodded. She had no idea what he was talking about, but the sooner she found out the better she would feel. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said. She waved at him. He winked, and she let herself out the door.
From his car a couple of blocks away Lincoln Stone listened to the conversation with a sneer of disgust. As soon as Liza let herself out the door he ripped off his earpiece and threw it on the seat beside him.
Dirk Xavier was a lying murderer, and Link knew it even if Liza didn’t. Why didn’t she see it, though? Were all women so easily led by a few kisses and empty words? All his life Link had been dealing with guys like Dirk. He was one of the chosen ones--the tall, handsome, and athletically endowed guys who always got the girl. In high school it had been Brian Drake who all the girls adored. He had been the star forward on their basketball team while Link, a passable player in his own right, had to sit on the bench and watch Brian get all the glory, game after game. In college it had been a guy named Chad, only that had been worse because he had been Link’s roommate. If there was anything worse than having to stand in someone else’s shadow, it was having to do it up close. And, worse, he had liked Chad. How was it possible to resent someone who was also his friend?
It wasn’t that Link was insecure; he wasn’t. He was smart, physically fit, moderately attractive, and good at his job. But somehow even with all those amenities he never quite measured up to the perfection of guys like Dirk Xavier. Most of the time it didn’t matter. He was an adult now; there was no need to subject himself to second place. But then he met Liza and all the old bitterness rose to the surface again. She was the epitome of the girl next door: sweet, cute, and innocent. She didn’t deserve to get hurt by this loser. If Link didn’t do something to stop it, she was on the express train to heartbreak, and possibly even physical pain. After all, the dirtbag had tried to kill a weak and innocent old lady. What would stop him from killing Liza?
Link didn’t kid himself that Dirk was in love with her. And not because Liza wasn’t lovable. She was pretty in a fresh and wholesome sort of way, the kind of way you might think your cherished little sister was pretty. And her quirky sense of humor was unexpectedly funny. Her figure was trim, indicating that she took good care of herself. Most importantly she could cook. He smiled as he thought of how she had looked in the middle of the night. Her hazel eyes behind her askew square-framed glasses had been huge with fear, but she had tried to put on a brave face and keep it together, even though her lower lip trembled a few times. Her prim, neck to knee
nightgown had little sock monkeys printed all over it, and he was sure if she hadn’t been in such a panic, she would have died before she let anyone see her in it.
But even more than being attractive physically, she was a decent person. In his line of work, he didn’t encounter a lot of good people. In fact, the lowlifes who encompassed his bread and butter had made him cynical about human nature. Most people he encountered were rotten and liars, and rotten liars. But Liza was different. She was genuinely good, and she didn’t deserve the circus her life had become.
As it was now he felt a certain responsibility to look out for her. She was an innocent who was in over her head in this deadly game of cat and mouse. For whatever sick purpose her boyfriend had decided to involve her in his little scheme, but Link was about to remove her. He flexed his hand on the steering wheel and shifted in his seat. An idea he had been debating suddenly rose to the forefront of his mind again. Sometimes it was necessary to cause a small wound to prevent a larger one. The time had come to do that for Liza. He was going to hurt her, and he didn’t enjoy the thought, but in time it would prevent a larger wound or possibly even death. Somehow over the last few weeks he had come to think of himself as her protector, maybe because she needed one so badly. Whatever the reason, he was going to do what needed to be done--the sooner the better.
Chapter 16
Liza didn’t go home after her visit with Dirk. She couldn’t. What he had said about Link stuck in her head and made her feel self-conscious. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Link; after all, he was a government agent. But the truth was that she had only known him a few weeks. She shouldn’t feel as comfortable with him as she did. Why did she? Until she figured that out she didn’t want to see him. Even though he was most likely at work she decided not to risk running into him. For all she knew he could be sitting in her house—enough people certainly used it as stomping grounds lately.
She could go to the mall, but she didn’t want to go alone. There was nothing she wanted to buy, and she didn’t want to be tempted to go over her meager budget. Instead she went to see Marion.
Marion was a research librarian at their alma mater. Liza always felt a little strange going back to her college as a grown up. She felt like she had a flashing sign around her neck that read “Old.” But it was summer, and few students were around so she felt less conspicuous. She wondered how Marion managed to keep an upbeat attitude around so many eighteen year old coeds, but then Marion didn’t have much interaction with the students. She was a research librarian for the professors, and she was always busy. With so many professors and assistant professors trying to get published, Marion never ran out of work. When she occasionally did have a few free minutes, they were usually spent helping students with research, but she seemed to enjoy the change of pace. Sometimes Liza thought Marion didn’t like her job very much. When asked about it, she was effusive with her praise, but Liza wasn’t convinced. In Marion she sensed a restlessness she had felt in herself, but maybe every twenty-something locked in a stable job felt the same “Is this all there is?” sort of uneasiness about life.
“Hey,” Liza said as she approached Marion’s desk. Marion was bent over underneath her desk and she appeared to be making frantic hand motions. When she sat up her expression looked frantic, too.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” she said. “I get off in an hour, I’m swamped, and,” she shoved her oversized bag at Liza’s midsection, “find my keys.”
Marion probably lost her keys an average of twelve times a day. Liza clutched the bag to her torso and stood looking over Marion’s desk. It was immaculate. Even the ruler was placed at a ninety degree angle. How was it possible for someone to be so neat in her work life and such a mess in her personal life? But Marion was Marion. There was no changing her. Liza knew because she had spent four years of college trying to do just that. She had bought Marion every organizational system known to mankind, along with a remote key ring sensor. In the end the organizational systems were buried beneath mounds of paper and the key ring sensor was lost on the first day, along with her keys. And so Liza gave up. She decided to love her best friend for her many admirable qualities and overlook her few glaring flaws.
Now she took the huge bag, overflowing with trash and papers, retired to a small cubby and began the process of searching through it. Previously she would have organized it and thrown the trash away, but years of experience told her that what looked like trash to her was often something important to Marion. So now she simply emptied everything out of the bag and sifted through the contents. The keys were nowhere to be found. Because everyone in the library knew Marion lost her keys once an hour they had given her a giant key ring with her name on it so that when someone found the keys they would be returned to her. The fact that no one found them most likely meant they weren’t in the library which left Marion’s car as the next logical place to search.
“Going to your car,” Liza called. Marion was on the phone, so she gave her a vague, dismissive wave.
Marion’s car wasn’t difficult to spot, even in the crowded lot. Most of the other cars were neat and professional-looking sedans. Marion’s car was a revamped 1970’s VW Beetle with more dings than it probably had during its original lifetime. It was also still covered in a slurry of street salt even though winter was over months ago. Liza started on the driver’s side because it could usually be counted on to be clear, and today was no exception; the seat and floor were clear of debris. She made a quick search of them and moved on to the passenger side when she was finished.
She opened the door with a sigh. The pile of papers and trash reached almost to the top of the seat. The search could take all day, and it was sweltering outside.
“Marion, Marion, Marion,” Liza muttered. She leaned in and began to sift through the giant stack.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” an unnervingly familiar voice said from behind her. Startled, Liza jumped, overbalanced, and pitched forward onto the floor of the car. A mound of used napkins and fast food containers softened her fall. She twisted around to make sure her senses weren’t playing tricks on her; she hoped they were.
No such luck. Dirk’s cousin Sal stood looking down at her with his usual amused smirk. “Hey, Liza,” he said as if they had just bumped into each other in line at the bank.
“Hey, Sal.” She blinked up at him in confusion.
“Are you planning to steal this car or just the contents?” he asked.
She didn’t know him well enough to read his tone. Was he teasing her, or chastising her?
“I’m looking for my best friend’s keys.”
He nodded. “I can only hope this is her car.” He paused. “It’s a her, right? Or was it that guy I saw at your place this morning?”
Her teeth ground together. “It’s a her.” She was still in the uncomfortable position of lying on her back, except her feet were still facing forward, so she was twisted uncomfortably like a pretzel.
“You’re certainly flexible and full of surprises,” Sal said.
Liza didn’t reply to that odd statement. Instead she began the arduous process of trying to disentangle herself from the vehicle. Sal put down a hand and helped pull her up. As soon as she was able, she extricated her hand from his grasp and resisted the urge to wipe it on her skirt. There was something about Sal that made her uncomfortable, although she had no idea what it was. Maybe it was the fact that he kept catching her in ridiculously embarrassing situations.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I have a date,” he said.
“With a student?” she exclaimed. Surely he wouldn’t date someone so much younger. He was years older than her and Dirk.
He nodded. “She’s a senior, if that makes you feel any better.” His amused grin didn’t waiver. She was suddenly tempted to mash down hard on his foot, just to see if she could get him to stop smiling. As if sensing her thoughts his smile widened. “She just called to tell me she’s running late, though,
so I have a little time. I don’t suppose you would want to grab a cup of coffee.”
Think, Liza, think, she commanded herself. What excuse could she use to escape the ordeal of more time spent in his presence? “I need to search for my friend’s keys,” she said. Maybe it was lame, but it was true. Marion was counting on her to find her keys so she could go home. With as messy as the car was it might take the rest of the day.
“Those keys?” Sal pointed behind her. Liza turned and saw that her faceplant on the floor of the car had revealed the hidden keys.
“Yes, those,” Liza said. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but inside she was saying some very unkind things to the traitorous keys. “I just need to let Marion know where I’m going.” If she thought he might wait outside for her, it was a vain hope. He followed close on her heels as if he knew she found his presence unnerving.
“Did you find…” Marion’s words died off as she looked up and saw Sal. When Liza was confronted with someone as impossibly beautiful as Sal, she immediately clammed up and became self-conscious. Not so Marion. She understood that she had no hope with someone so physically perfect, so instead she immediately set herself up as the self-deprecating friend. “If he’s some sort of peace offering for not locating my keys, then well done. I’ll take him.”
Sal laughed in a way that let Liza know he’d had a lot of practice bantering with adoring females.
“This is Dirk’s cousin, Sal,” Liza introduced. “Sal, my best friend, Marion.” Marion stuck her hand over the desk and the two shook. “We were just going to grab a coffee, can you make it?” Liza’s eyes turned pleading. She was almost desperate for Marion to tag along, just so she wouldn’t have to be alone with Sal.
Marion gave her a knowing smile. “You took so long finding my keys that I’m almost finished here. Let me just grab my purse.” She turned to the area behind her desk and began a frantic search for her bag.
Liza cleared her throat. When Marion turned she pointed to the bag that had been propped on the desk between them the entire time. Marion grabbed it with muttered disgust at her absentmindedness.
The Pajama Affair Page 12