by Linda Turner
And Greg didn’t see much, either. He’d been taking a glass of champagne from one of the waiters when a gray-haired man brushed past him and knocked him into the waiter, whose tray of filled champagne glasses went flying onto the other guests. He was still apologizing when Joe was nearly killed. Like everyone else, he’d hit the ground when he heard the shot.
Not surprised that the investigation was once again going in circles, Austin headed back to the high-dollar condominium where Chester lived. Only this time, he straightened his tie and put on his sport coat before approaching the guard again, this time on foot after parking next to the guard’s serviceable Ford.
“Look,” he said, dragging out his ID to flash it at him. “I’m a private investigator. I need to talk to Mr. Phillips about a crime he may have witnessed. Do you know when he’s expected home?”
“You’ll have to talk to Mr. Phillips about that,” the other man said coolly.
“And how would I do that when I can’t get past the front gate?” Austin tossed back.
“I wouldn’t know, sir.”
Grinding his teeth on a curse, Austin struggled for patience. He really hated it when anyone called him sir in that particularly snotty tone of voice. “Let’s try this again,” he suggested. “Would you have any idea where I might find Mr. Phillips? It’s imperative I talk to him.”
“You’re not going to get any information out of that stiff,” a gravelly voice drawled from the opposite side of the gate that barred his way. “What do you want with Chester?”
Startled, Austin turned just in time to see a tall, distinguished older woman walking her very fat bulldog. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” the old lady snapped. “Don’t waste my time. I’m old—I may not have much left.”
Austin had to fight a smile at that. The lady might have gray hair, but she was a long way from having one foot in the grave. “I need to talk to Chester about a shooting he may have witnessed last weekend,” he said, deciding to trust her. “He’s not a suspect. He just may have seen more than he realized.”
“So that’s why the cops have been swarming around here all week,” the woman replied, amused. “Chester thinks they’re after the marijuana he bought for his grandmother. She’s got arthritis, and he takes care of her. She owns the condominium.”
That explained a lot. “I see. So how do I get in touch with Chester?”
For a moment, Austin didn’t think she was going to tell him. She considered him, then nodded, satisfied. “He likes to sit in with the bands that play down out at the Silver Slipper, down on Fifth Street. A friend of his owns the place, so don’t expect anyone there to point him out to you,” she warned. “You start asking around for him down there like you did here and all you’ll get is the cold shoulder.”
Appreciating the warning, Austin said, “Thanks. I’ll make a note of that.”
She turned toward her own condominium, leaving Austin alone with his thoughts and not sure how to proceed. Chester might not know anything and could just be hiding out because of the marijuana he bought for his grandmother. But what if he’d really seen something and he was afraid the shooter was coming after him next? He’d be suspicious of anyone who came sniffing around asking questions, and Austin couldn’t say he blamed him. He’d have felt the same way.
Which meant Chester wasn’t going to let a stranger anywhere near him. He had friends to protect him and conceal his identity, and that gave him the decided advantage. Austin didn’t know him from Adam. Oh, he had a general description, but there would probably be any number of men in that club who could be described as a thirty-year-old white male with blue eyes and brown hair. Chester could stand right next to him, Austin thought with a scowl, and he’d never know it. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?
If you need any help, just call me.
With no effort whatsoever, Austin could see the shy smile Rebecca had given him when she’d offered to help him the first night he was in town. She’d looked so sweet and innocent, and he had no business even thinking of bothering her again. Not after he’d had so much fun with her yesterday. She made him forget the past, what it was like to lose someone he loved, and that was a lesson he didn’t dare let himself forget. He’d given his heart to one woman and lost her. He wouldn’t risk that kind of heartache again with Rebecca or anyone else.
That decision made, he should have driven to the Silver Slipper and tried to track down Chester on his own, in spite of the old lady’s words of caution. It would have been the wise thing to do. Instead, he found himself heading for Rebecca’s, and there didn’t seem to be a damn thing he could do about it. His rental car had developed a mind of its own.
He was the last person Rebecca expected to find on her doorstep—and the only person, she realized, she really wanted to see after the horrendous run-in she’d had with Richard Foster at work.
Flashing a happy smile at him, she pulled the door wider. “Hi! This is a nice surprise. C’mon in.”
“I should have called—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just about to have some cookies and a glass of milk. There’s plenty for both of us.” And not waiting to see if he followed, she turned and headed for the kitchen. “How’d the investigation go today?” she asked over her shoulder. “Find out anything interesting?”
He hesitated at the front door, and for a moment, she thought he was going to make an excuse to leave, but he obviously thought better of it and stepped across the threshold. “Actually, I’ve run into a dead end unless I can track down a guy who bought marijuana for his grandmother.”
Her lips twitching, she couldn’t help but smile at his disgusted tone. “Well, that certainly sounds intriguing. What does that have to do with the shooting? Or did I miss something?”
“I’ve been trying to interview the band members at Joe’s birthday party. I’ve talked to all of them but one. And he lives with his grandmother and buys marijuana for her.” Giving her a short rundown of what he’d discovered, he added, “I don’t know if he thinks he’s on the most-wanted list, or he really is just hanging out on Fifth Street to sit in with the band, but if I go in there and start asking for him, the jackass’ll probably run.”
“I could go with you,” she offered. “I might recognize him.”
Even as she made the suggestion, Rebecca couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth. Fifth Street was lined with clubs and bars, not to mention an occasional tattoo parlor, and when she was a child, her mother had frequented the establishments there. She’d always hated it, and as an adult, she’d always avoided the place because it reminded her too much of her mother and her own unhappy childhood.
She readily admitted to herself that she didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to go anywhere near those memories, but there was just something about Austin that inspired trust. She knew she could go anywhere with him and he would get her there and back safely.
But while she had no doubts about going to Fifth Street or anywhere else with him, she’d apparently shocked him with her suggestion. “Oh, no,” he said with an immediate frown. “I couldn’t ask you to go into that neighborhood, especially after dark.”
Rebecca had to smile at that. “You didn’t ask, Austin. I volunteered.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she cut in. “I want to do this—for you and Joe. Let me.”
Put that way, there was no way he could deny her, especially when she looked at him with such trust in her eyes. At that moment she could have asked him for anything, and he’d have found a way to get it for her, God help him. What had she done to him?
Confused, questions swirling in his head, he said the only thing he could: “Go change. I’m not taking you to a club in that part of town in shorts.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. A small smile playing about her mouth, she hurried to her bedroom to change.
There was a time when the Silver Slipper had been a sophisticated place. But that was long ago, before
most of the clubs on the street turned into bars, and the businesses in search of a more affluent clientele had moved to another part of the city. Now, with its graffiti on the side of the building and its painted black windows, it just looked like a run-down dive.
Reading her mind, Austin took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they waited at the corner for the traffic light to change. “Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Yeah, and I’m Cinderella.”
“Well, you do have the look about you,” he teased, only to sober almost instantly. “We can call this off right now. All you have to do is say the word.”
He meant it. He’d find another way to track down Chester. He never should have brought her here in the first place. It wasn’t the kind of place she belonged, and they both knew it. But she was, he was discovering, nothing if not stubborn when she set her mind to something. “No, we’re here,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “Let’s do it.”
When she headed across the street to the Silver Slipper, Austin knew he should have stopped her. But there was a glint in her eyes that warned him and anyone else who cared to look not to get in her way, and he liked to think he wasn’t a stupid man. Without a word, he fell into step beside her.
Inside, it wasn’t quite as bad as he’d feared. Granted, cigarette smoke hovered like a thick, choking haze in the air, and the band was so loud, you could hardly hear yourself think. But the band was fairly decent, and most of the crowd seated at the tables in front of the small stage was there for the music, not the booze.
Reassured, he took her arm and led her to an empty table near the back of the club. With the music blaring, she couldn’t hear anything without him talking right in her ear, so he pulled his chair over and put his head close to hers. “Do you see anyone you recognize?”
Her heart pounding, her eyes skipping over the sweaty band members who were banging out a heavy metal song up on the stage, Rebecca frowned through the smoke that stung her eyes and didn’t see anyone who looked the vaguest bit familiar. Not that that surprised her. She hadn’t paid much attention to the band the night of the party, and too late, she discovered that one musician looked much like another.
Bending his head to hers like they were lovers sharing an intimate secret, Austin murmured, “Well? What do you think?”
His breath, warm and moist, caressed her ear, sending a shiver dancing down her body, and for a moment, she was so surprised, she couldn’t even think, let alone look for a guitar player she hadn’t looked twice at on the night of the party. Then her gaze locked with that of the slender, dark-haired man at the end of the bar who was just lifting a mug of beer to his mouth, and shock stopped her in her tracks. “My God, I think that’s him!” she said loudly.
Four
The words popped out just as the band took a break, and at the bar, Chester Phillips looked up in surprise. Recognizing her almost at the same time she did him, he set his beer down with a thump and headed straight for her. “Hey, you’re one of the Coltons, aren’t you?” he said with a frown, trying to place her. “One of the daughters, right? I saw you at the old man’s party.”
Rebecca exchanged a look with Austin and didn’t have to ask if he wanted her to tell Chester why they were there. If he was as skittish of the cops as they’d been led to believe, he’d probably run for cover if he thought he was being questioned about the shooting.
So acting as if their meeting was a chance one and it wasn’t the least unusual for her to frequent bars, she moved to join him and was thankful Austin was beside her as he joined them.
“Actually, I’m a foster daughter,” she said easily, offering her hand as she introduced herself. “Rebecca Powell. And this is Joe’s nephew, Austin. You were in the band, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “I play bass. So how’s the old man? Did the cops ever find out who tried to kill him?”
“You know, Austin and I were just talking about that,” she replied, and surprised herself with the way she stepped into the role of friendly confidante without the slightest hesitation. If this was what it was like to play P.I., she could really enjoy it! “It’s really bizarre the way the police haven’t been able to come up with a suspect. With so many people standing right there when the shot was fired, you’d think somebody, somewhere, would have seen something.”
“I know, man. It was weird. People were packed onto the patio like sardines. I didn’t realize how bad it was until we took a break and I tried to make it to the back of the crowd for a cigarette. I couldn’t move without bumping into someone with a glass of champagne. Every time I turned around, I got soaked.”
Beside her, Rebecca felt Austin stiffen, but his tone was casual as he said, “So where were you when the shot was fired? Did you make it to the back of the crowd for your cigarette?”
He grinned crookedly. “Actually, I ran into this beautiful blonde with the most bodacious…” Suddenly remembering Rebecca’s presence, he swallowed whatever he was going to say next and shot her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Anyway, the next thing I knew, she screamed and threw herself into my arms and we hit the ground, just like everybody else. It was wild.”
“So you didn’t see where the shot came from?”
“Are you kidding? With a blonde plastered all over me? I don’t think so.”
There was no doubt in Austin’s mind that he was telling the truth. Not only was there an honest appreciation in his eyes when he talked about the blonde, but if Austin remembered correctly, he had interviewed the daughter of one of Joe’s neighbors who claimed she hadn’t seen anything because she’d run into a slender, dark-haired man with blue eyes and a crooked smile. Now he knew who that man was.
Damn! Once again he’d hit a dead end.
He looked at Rebecca and saw that she, too, realized Chester wasn’t going to be any help to them. But he had to try one more time. “What about before the shooting? Did you see anyone acting odd earlier in the evening? I know you were busy playing, but since you were up on stage, you have a full view of everyone outside. Did you see anyone hanging back by themselves or acting jittery or nervous?”
“No one but Mrs. Colton, and she was just worried about the party—that everything would be perfect.”
“She’s always like that,” Rebecca said with a smile. “Fancy parties make her a nervous wreck, but she won’t stop giving them. I don’t understand it.”
“Everybody seemed to be having a great time,” Chester said with a shrug. “Sorry I can’t be any more help than that.”
“You tried,” Austin said with a shrug. “Thanks.”
Disappointed, he escorted Rebecca outside, then had to smile when she drew in a deep breath of fresh air. “It was kind of rank in there, wasn’t it?”
“It was awful,” she said, grimacing at the scent that clung to her clothes. “I don’t know how those people in there can stand it. My eyes were starting to water!”
Chuckling, Austin had to admit that he hadn’t even noticed. “Actually, that was pretty tame compared to some of the places I’ve been, but it can get to you if you’re not used to it. Thanks for coming with me.”
“I just wish I could have helped you more,” she said. “I feel like I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh, but you did,” he assured her as he unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for her. “Without you, I wouldn’t have known Chester from the lowest barfly.”
“But he didn’t tell you anything!”
“True, but he could have just as easily been the one who cracked the case wide open. There was no way to know until we talked to him. That’s the nature of the business,” he added as he slipped behind the wheel and headed for her apartment. “I shouldn’t admit this, but sometimes, it’s just a matter of dumb luck that solves a case. That and a lot of hard work.”
He told her about several cases he’d solved on a fluke, how he’d just happened to be at the right spot at the right time and everything had just come together, but then they arri
ved at her apartment, and the last thing he wanted to talk about was work. He wanted to see her again. The strength of that want hit him right in the chest, shaking him to the core. Scowling, he tried to convince himself that he just enjoyed working with her on the case, but deep down inside, he knew that wasn’t it at all. He wanted to take her out to dinner, to a movie. Hell, he’d settle for an evening at the bowling alley. Anything so he could spend some time with her.
He was asking for trouble. He knew it, but it didn’t make a bit of difference. The minute he walked her to her door, he said, “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
In the process of digging her house key out of her purse, Rebecca glanced up, her eyes wide with surprise. “To talk over the case? All right. But we’ve already gone over the guest list—”
“I’m asking you out on a date, Rebecca. This has nothing to do with the case.”
She couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d told her he was an alien from outer space who’d taken possession of the real Austin McGrath’s body. Dazed, she just looked at him. “It doesn’t?”
“I like you,” he said huskily. “I want to spend some time with you. Why do you look so surprised?”
Her heart pounding crazily in her breast, she wanted to tell him that she hadn’t let herself consider the possibility that he might be as attracted to her as she was to him. Because then he might want her. And she couldn’t…she wouldn’t be able to…
A fist tightened in her stomach and she couldn’t even complete the thought. She just knew she couldn’t let him or any other man touch her. Which was why she should turn him down, she told herself sternly. Any further contact with him was only going to lead to frustration and bitterness. She knew that, accepted it.