Strangely enough, although I wasn’t happy when women flirted with Jake, it didn’t bother me as much. Was it because I cared about him less?
I didn’t think so.
Maybe it was because he found it humorous, and it felt as if we were sharing a joke. Whereas Noah seemed to take the adulation as his due. While he never responded in kind, he also didn’t shut them down, at least not completely.
Mitzi finally left us alone, and we spent the next several minutes reviewing the menu as we nibbled on the hors d’oeuvres. Unlike our last meal here, I didn’t plan on picking up the check. And even though I was prepared for the prices, I still gulped a little when I saw the amounts.
Pushing the cost out of my mind, I concentrated on what Noah was telling me about his search for a third physician. He wanted to expand his clinic’s hours and he already had too many patients for just him and Elexus to handle. When Mitzi returned to see if we were ready to order, he seemed resigned to the interruptions, and I could see why he hadn’t attempted a more personal topic of conversation.
I asked for the Canadian trout filet with chive risotto, and Noah decided on rack of lamb with spring vegetables and a basil Dijon emulsion. I hoped that I could talk him into sharing one of the chops.
Once Mitzi left, Noah took a sip of his champagne, and his tone casual, but his gaze intense, said, “How is it having Del Vecchio for a tenant?”
“Fine.” I paused, trying to gauge Noah’s reaction. “He has his first case.”
“Already?” Noah didn’t seem happy at the news. “That was quick.”
“I suppose it was.” Popping a mushroom tart in my mouth, I chewed slowly and considered how much to tell Noah. After I swallowed, I said, “Actually, Chief Kincaid referred the client to Jake. The chief also suggested that I might be able to help out.”
“Why would he do that?” Noah’s gaze was flinty. “Doesn’t Chief Kincaid realize that involving you could put you in danger?”
I opened my mouth to tell Noah what I thought of his chauvinistic comment, but then reconsidered, leaned back, and said casually, “I guess the chief assumes that I can take care of myself.”
“What does Del Vecchio think about you assisting with the investigation?” Noah’s tone made his opinion of the matter clear.
“Jake is happy for my help.” I swigged the remaining champagne in my glass. “In fact, he’s suggested that I get my PI license.”
“Is he insane?” Noah’s broad shoulders stiffened and his voice cracked. “How can he be so reckless with your safety? That just proves he doesn’t care as much for you as I do.”
Noah’s attitude had me fuming, but I forced myself to consider where he was coming from. He and Jake lived in two very different worlds. Noah was used to being responsible for his patients, taking care of and preventing bad things from happening to them.
And although Jake was protective, he’d been around many women in law enforcement, including his ex-wife. Meg had actually been his boss. Jake also understood that I enjoyed the intellectual puzzle. And that after so many years in the high-stakes realm of investment consulting, I craved the adrenaline rush of taking a chance and going all in to achieve a victory.
There was no way that I would ever convince Noah that I wanted and needed the excitement of solving the occasional crime, so I said, “Since we’ll never see eye to eye on this, let’s just agree to disagree and enjoy our dinner.”
Noah opened his mouth, but he was interrupted by the server, who placed our salads in front of us and asked, “Would you like fresh-ground pepper?” We both nodded, and when she was finished twisting the long wooden mill, she said, “Is there anything else I can get for you right now?”
“No, thank you.” Noah blew out an exasperated breath, then when the waitress left, he said, “Next time, I’m cooking you dinner at my place. Maybe then we can have a few seconds without interruptions.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I hid my smile. It was sort of funny seeing the calm, cool Dr. Underwood so discombobulated, but I understood his frustration.
We’d eaten most of our salads in silence before Noah flicked an uneasy glance at me and asked, “So what’s Del Vecchio investigating?”
“A missing person,” I said impassively. “Do you know Elliot and Gabriella Winston?”
“I don’t believe so,” Noah answered, then paused, tilted his head, and said, “Wait a minute. That’s the third time I heard that name.”
He stared at the ceiling as the server reappeared and replaced our empty salad plates with our entrées. Once she left, Noah said, “Now I remember. The first was when Chief Kincaid asked me if I had seen her anywhere near the country club during the dance on Saturday night.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t ask me.”
“I told him we were together the whole time,” Noah explained.
A bit perturbed that Noah had spoken for me, I shoved away my irritation and asked, “How about the second time you heard the name?”
“When I stopped at home to walk Lucky before picking you up, a new neighbor approached me.” Noah made a face. “As we were chatting, she mentioned that her best friend was named Gabriella.”
“Would this woman be named Muffy?” I asked, recalling my conversation with Vivian Yager.
“Uh-huh.” Noah forked a piece of lamb into his mouth, then took his time chewing and swallowing before he added, “She’s living with Vaughn Yager and isn’t finding our neighborhood too friendly.”
“Then she’s not a local.” I guessed, taking a bite of my trout.
“No. Muffy was saying she wished that Yager would build a house over in Country Club Estates so she could be closer to her friend.”
“I can’t see him doing that.” I patted my lips with my napkin.
“Me, either.” Noah took a drink of water. “Yager loves living among old money.”
“True.”
I twirled the stem of my empty champagne flute. In high school, Vaughn had been an outcast like me, and now that he’d made his fortune, he’d had several plastic surgeries and proven his hometown had been wrong when they called him a loser. Vaughn lived to one-up the people who had inherited their wealth rather than earned it.
“My impression is that Muffy hasn’t quite figured out her new boyfriend yet.” Noah glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “It takes a lot more work for a couple to really know each other if they didn’t grow up together. They just don’t have the same life experiences.”
“But exploring those differences can be fun,” I answered, still upset about Noah’s narrow-minded view of me helping out on Jake’s case.
“Oh.” Noah’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his fork and concentrated on finishing his entrée.
After I let him simmer for a while, I asked, “Did Muffy say anything more about her friend Gabriella? Anything about her being missing?”
“Let me see.” Noah tapped his finger to his lip, clearly teasing me.
“What?” I prodded. “You have an amazing memory, so quit stalling.”
“Okay. Okay.” Noah held up his hands in mock surrender. “Muffy said something to the effect that getting Yager to build a house in Country Club Estates would be a waste of time, because she didn’t think that Gabriella was planning on sticking around for long.”
“Interesting.” I pushed away my half-eaten plate. The food was great, but I was stuffed. “Did Muffy say if Gabriella was divorcing her husband?”
“That’s what I thought she meant, but she never really said it.” Noah frowned. “Why? Do you think Gabriella’s missing because she left him?”
“Maybe.” I didn’t mention the ransom note, since Jake had cautioned me to keep quiet about it. “But if that was the case, surely her lawyer would have served him with the legal papers by now.”
Something was bothering me, but before I could figure out what it was
, the server came to our table, offered us dessert menus, and cleared the empty plates. I declined and asked for decaf cappuccino, but Noah studied the selections, then ordered the chocolate taster—a truffle, crêpe, soufflé, and pot de crème.
As we waited for Noah’s goodies, I poked around in my subconscious, trying to pry loose whatever tidbit was nudging at me.
A few minutes later, as the server came through the curtains with Noah’s dessert, I heard a burst of loud laughter and saw a group from the wildlife dinner staggering past our alcove. Staring at them, it dawned on me. If Elliot Winston was going to use the money he’d set aside for the wildlife park to pay the ransom, why was he still hosting this party? And wasn’t it a little tacky to host a party when his wife was still missing?
CHAPTER 14
Noah and I were quiet as he ate his chocolate quartet and I drank my cappuccino. Once he settled the bill and we were in his car heading back to town, the silence grew. It appeared that neither of us was in the mood to make casual conversation, and I wasn’t entirely sure what had gone wrong with our romantic dinner.
When Noah pulled into the dime store’s tiny parking lot, I shoved aside my weird mood and said, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“I’d give you the moon if you’d let me.” Noah unbuckled his seat belt, leaned over, and cupped my cheek. “Don’t make any hasty decisions.”
“What? You’re not tired of me trying to decide?” I asked, my breath hitched. The gut-wrenching tenderness of his expression closed my throat, and I struggled to continue. “This business of seeing both you and Jake has to end soon.”
“Only if you’re ready to choose me.” Noah leaned closer and whispered into my hair, “We’ve always been destined for each other.”
“I . . .” Confusion clouded my mind and I hesitated. Something was off.
“Not I, it should be us.” Noah’s sexy mouth was a millimeter from mine.
He closed the distance between our lips, his kiss soft and sweet. I didn’t draw away, but I didn’t exactly participate, either.
Noah pulled back, frowned, then tried again. This time, his kiss was hard and searching. Instead of the usual wonderful sensation, my stomach clenched. The strong pull of his hot, wet tongue didn’t draw me in, and the darkness behind my closed eyes never lit up with fireworks.
Whether it was lack of sleep, preoccupation with Gabriella’s disappearance, or something that I didn’t want to think about, I just wasn’t into making out with Noah. Not wanting to hurt his feelings or make him feel rejected, I waited for a good place to end the kiss.
Then using the center console as an excuse, I shifted out of his reach, and rubbing my thigh, I said, “Sorry, I’ve got a cramp in my leg.”
Noah shoved a hand through his dark blond hair until it stuck out at odd angles and sighed. “Nothing about tonight went as I planned.” He wound one of my curls around his finger. “Are we still on for Sunday?”
“Definitely!” I forced a note of excitement into my voice. “I’ve been looking forward to it.” Opening the car door, I got out, then bent down so I could smile at him. “I’ll be ready at eleven.”
“Great.” Noah’s upbeat tone didn’t match the unhappy lines around his eyes. “We’ll have an early dinner afterward.”
“Sounds fun.”
I blew him a kiss and walked to my car. After digging the keys from my purse, I unlocked the BMW and slid behind the wheel. Noah waited for me to back out of the parking spot, then followed me down the alley.
But when we came to the main road, I turned left, and in the rearview mirror, I watched Noah’s Jag head in the opposite direction. Was there some cosmic significance to that?
Noah was right. Nothing about the evening had been what I expected. Maybe it was Jake’s invitation to go away for a weekend together. It felt like more of a challenge than a request, and perhaps I was reacting to the stress of making a decision.
A good night’s sleep would probably put everything into perspective.
* * *
Wednesday was a long day at the dime store. We opened at nine a.m. and didn’t close until Blood, Sweat, and Shears, a philanthropic sewing group, finished up that evening. In the past, I’d covered the twelve hours myself, but now that my father was working for me, he’d taken over the first shift, and I didn’t have to be at the store until two.
Enjoying my morning off, I slept in, then had a leisurely late breakfast with Gran. While she made my favorite puffy French toast and Jimmy Dean sausage, I told her about Jake’s PI case and asked her if she knew Gabriella or Elliot Winston.
Gran wrinkled her brow, then said, “I don’t think I’ve met either of them.”
She adjusted the belt of her green and white polka-dot A-line swing dress and turned back to the stove. With her tiny waist and her hair in a French twist, she looked as if she’d just stepped out of a vintage nineteen fifties advertisement. Gran’s clothing selection was always a surprise. One day she’d have on a flowered muumuu from the seventies and the next an authentic nineteen twenties flapper dress.
Evidently, our female ancestors had never thrown out a piece of apparel, and their entire wardrobes were packed in our attic. After Grandpa died and I’d moved in, Gran had taken all the outfits in her size, had them dry-cleaned, and now wore whichever era struck her fancy. Sadly, nothing had fit me. Apparently, my relatives had all been petite.
“Have you heard about the proposed wildlife park?” I asked as Gran slid a plate of steaming French toast and perfectly browned sausages in front of me. “It’s supposed to go on those four hundred acres next to Vaughn Yager’s factory.”
“There was an article in the Banner about it.” Gran poured two cups of coffee and put one next to my right hand. “And some guy from the Animal Safety Alliance came to the luncheon Father Flagg had for the Marthas and told us how . . . uh . . . inh . . .”
The Marthas consisted of women from the church who provided hospitality for parish events and participated in fund-raising for certain charities. They were supposed to honor any requests from the priest, but Father Flagg was too smart to try to order them around.
“Inhumane?” I suggested. Gran’s doctor had said it was best to supply the word she couldn’t recall, rather than let her become stressed.
“Uh-huh. He was all wound up about God’s critters needing to be free. He said that humans who were cruel to them needed to be gotten rid of.”
Gran’s black pumps clicked across the old linoleum as she went to a cupboard and took out the maple syrup. She thumped the jug on the table, then sat in the chair opposite mine.
“What did the ladies think of the Animal Safety Alliance guy?”
“Not much.” Gran’s pale blue eyes twinkled. “He spoke between the entrée and dessert, and most of them were more interested in getting a piece of my double chocolate rum cake than hearing about some zoo outside of town. Especially since the other choice of sweets was Myrtle Cormac’s store-bought angel food cake with icing straight from a can of frosting.”
“So no takers for his crusade against the park?” I savored the perfect bite of French toast, sausage, and syrup, then asked, “Have you heard anything else about the park around town?”
“Not a word.” Gran fingered her green button earrings. “So you’re helping Jake with his case? Were you with him last night?”
Although she still wasn’t a fan of Noah’s, she had stopped plotting his demise, so I felt safe in mentioning my date with him.
Sniffing in disappointment, Gran immediately changed the subject, picked up the Banner from the tabletop, and said, “The editor needs to proof these articles better. Listen to this. ‘Ben Irving and Carrie Justice were married on October first at the Methodist church. This ends a friendship that began in their school days.’”
It took me a second before I understood the problem. But once I did, Gran and I giggled like little
kids. When I got up and hugged her, she gripped my back as if I were about to disappear.
As I resumed my seat, Gran said, “I love you to . . . uh . . .” She frowned, then completed her thought: “the fridge and back.”
I was pretty sure she meant moon, but in keeping with the slightly offbeat tenor of our conversation, I responded, “And I love you with all my butt.” Gran’s eyebrows raised, and I explained, “I know it’s supposed to be with all my heart, but my rear end is a lot bigger.”
“Oh, you.” Gran swatted my arm with the folded newspaper and said, “Kern is going to drive me to Walmart this afternoon. Do you need anything?”
“I can’t think of anything.”
I was tempted to ask if Gran knew that Dad had shared his Monday-night chicken dinner with Catherine Bennet, but I didn’t. He had a right to see someone without his mother’s interference. And if my own experience was anything to judge by, Gran would definitely meddle in Dad’s love life.
Once we were through with breakfast and had cleaned up the kitchen, I went to my room and called Jake. I needed to update him on what I’d learned about Gabriella from Noah.
When he answered, I could tell he was outside, and asked, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No.” Jake’s sexy voice washed over me. “Now that I’m more certain Gabriella was actually kidnapped, I’m going door-to-door in the Winstons’ neighborhood to see if someone noticed anything during the time she was abducted. So far, I’m not having much luck. Next, I’m going to check out the country club.”
“Do you plan on speaking to the people opposed to the wildlife park?”
“They’re on my list,” Jake said. “Anyone I should move to the top?”
“The head of the Animal Safety Alliance,” I suggested. “He spoke at the church ladies’ luncheon and pretty much stated that that anyone who was cruel to our four-legged friends should be put down.”
“Thanks for the intel.” Jake’s tone was a cross between amused and incredulous.
Lions and Tigers and Murder, Oh My Page 13