by Ink, India
Abruptly, I realized that I was on the verge of having a temper tantrum and squelched it. Winthrop and Auntie didn’t need me acting like a brat, although right now I felt about thirteen. Come to think of it, that was the year I’d gotten into my first fight after taking aikido for six months. Before that fight, I’d been picked on constantly. Afterward, nobody bothered me again. I’d sprained a boy’s wrist and broken two of his fingers. Luckily, there were witnesses to verify that it had been self-defense, but I hadn’t spared any feelings when he wouldn’t quit grabbing at my ass. I’d nailed the sucker.
I raced up the steps, taking them two at a time, as Winthrop followed more sedately. As I opened the door, Beast came rushing up, happy to see me. He planted his feet against my shoulders and gave me a big lick with his floppy old tongue. I laughed for the first time since Elliot had gotten jiggy with the rocks and followed his hulking form into the kitchen.
Auntie was fixing dinner. Or rather, arranging takeout on china. Yum, Peking duck, deep-fried prawns, pot stickers, and chicken fried rice. She looked up as I came into the kitchen and dropped the box of rice on the counter, rushing over to embrace me.
“Oh, Imp, I was so worried! I called Winthrop the minute that Kyle took you away.” She pushed me back, staring at me.
“Where’s Barb?” I asked, looking around.
“She called to say she’d be here in an hour or two. She’s eating dinner out.” Auntie sighed and brushed a stray bang away from her face. “What the hell did you think you were doing? Elliot could have hurt you—he could have had a gun!”
I shook my head. She was far more worried than she needed to be, but that was family for you. “I’m fine, Auntie, really. I didn’t even have time to see the inside of a cell before Winthrop showed up. Everything will be fine. And you know perfectly well that Elliot’s a wimp. By law, he can’t carry a gun, and I’m sure he’s too scared to touch one.”
She sniffed, her mouth twisted in a worried frown. “Persia, I want to talk to you about that. I know you know how to shoot. As long as he’s on this island, I want you to buy a gun, and I want you to get a concealed weapons permit. Elliot’s gone over the edge. Maybe next time he won’t play fair. Maybe he’ll be sneakier.”
Me? With a gun? I sat down, staring at the counter. On one hand, Auntie made a lot of sense, but could I be trusted with a weapon like that? I honestly couldn’t answer that myself, let alone trust somebody else to know.
“Auntie,” I said softly, “that’s probably not the wisest move. Look at the way I went after Elliot. I know myself enough to know that I’m better off without one. I don’t want to get locked up for shooting somebody.”
Winthrop cleared his throat and sat down at the table, opening his briefcase to bring out a sheaf of papers. “Persia’s right, Florence. Your niece is a wonderful young woman, but she’s got a hair-trigger temper, and I’d hate to see her end up in a situation she couldn’t get out of.”
Auntie and I put dinner on the table, and I fetched another plate for Winthrop. As I took my seat, he raised one eyebrow. “So, have you made a decision about how we’ll proceed? Are you still insisting on suing Elliot? By all means prosecute him, but if you want my advice, you won’t take him to civil court.”
“What are you talking about—” Auntie looked indignant.
I interrupted. “He’s got a point, even if I don’t like to admit it.”
Winthrop explained to her what he’d told me. Auntie grumbled, but she was a smart cookie, and she immediately saw his point of view. “I don’t like it, either, but Persia, I agree. Listen to Winthrop. We don’t need you chancing a court case that might land you in jail, even though you were provoked.”
Feeling backed into a corner from all sides—including my common sense, which I wasn’t very happy about listening to at the moment—I gave Winthrop a nod. “See what you can do. Tell Elliot that if he drops charges, we won’t sue his butt off. But I want that restraining order, and I want to see him in jail.”
Winthrop shuffled his papers and slipped them back in the briefcase. “You’re making the right decision, Persia. I know it doesn’t feel good, but trust me—I have waged so many lawsuits that I can’t even begin to count them, and at least half were a waste of time due to lack of assets on the defendant’s side. It would cost you far more than you’d ever win.”
He accepted a plate from Auntie. Winthrop seldom stayed for dinner, but I knew he ate out a lot with clients. I wondered how his wife felt about him being gone so often. He never mentioned her, and neither did Auntie, but I assumed he had one. I’d seen a picture of a woman and children on his desk when I was in his office.
My curiosity got the better of me. “Winthrop, are you married?”
Auntie snorted wine out of her nose. “Ouch! Persia, you take the cake.”
Winthrop answered, smooth as silk. “Why? Are you interested?” he asked, a smirk on his face that made the towering lawyer suddenly seem much more intimidating than usual.
Red-faced, I rubbed my temples. “I just thought . . . we never hear about her, and I saw a picture on your desk—”
He let out a belly laugh. “Mrs. Winchester took the children and left for France fifteen years ago. I keep the picture there because I love my children and am proud of them. I should put up a current one, but it always occurs to me when I’m not there to do it. The photo also reminds me never to take anyone at face value. Seemingly the epitome of propriety, my ex-wife was having an affair. When I found out and filed for divorce and custody, she fled the country with the children.”
Shocked, I asked, “What happened to your kids?”
“Since she was a good mother, rather than put my children through a horrendous court battle, I decided to give her primary custody with the stipulation that I see them for a month every year. They’re grown now, and two have returned to the States. They visit me quite often, actually. My other daughter stayed in France with her mother. I haven’t seen her in five years, and she never writes or calls.” He looked wistful, as if he’d missed out on the best part of his life. In a way, I suppose he had.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No apologies necessary. It was long ago, and life moves on. Now, back to your situation. We should have the restraining order by tomorrow. I’ll pay a visit to Elliot and make sure he knows what he’s facing. I’ll impress upon him that if you file a civil suit against him, he’ll be in debt to you for years.”
“What about the vandalism?”
“He probably won’t spend much time in jail for that, but with the restraining order, if he starts stalking you again, then we can go after him under the antistalking laws. I’ll make sure he knows what the penalties for those are, try to nip any thoughts of that sort of behavior in the bud.”
We ate our dinner. Auntie and Winthrop carried on a lively conversation while I sat deep in thought. The excitement of the afternoon had distracted me from Lisa’s disappearance, but with the coming of nightfall, I couldn’t help but wonder where she was. Was she alive? Hurt somewhere and unable to call for help? It was cold out. If she had taken a tumble into a ravine or gotten caught in some wooded area, she wouldn’t be able to survive many more nights like we were having.
The ring of the phone broke through my thoughts, and I motioned to Auntie that I’d get it. Heddy Latherton was on the line, and I cringed. Even though I wanted to ask her about Lisa, I dreaded wading through the mire of gossip and chitchat to get there. Unfortunately, my reputation had preceded me, and Heddy was full of questions about my infamous afternoon.
“Oh Persia, I heard you were arrested for beating up your ex-boyfriend! Are you okay? I heard that you took quite a pummeling from him. He hit you with a rock or something? I can’t imagine why Kyle would arrest you for fighting back in self-defense.” She paused to catch her breath.
Grabbing the opportunity, I set the record straight. “No, Heddy, he didn’t hit me with a rock. He broke one of the big windows at Venus Envy
, and he also smashed my car’s windshield. I lost my temper and broke his nose.”
She gasped. “You’re so brave! I’d have been terrified to do such a thing. Your aunt is a lucky woman to have such a brave niece.”
Ever since Auntie and I’d staged a falling-out to allow me to dig up evidence at Bebe Wilcox’s, Heddy had inexplicably become my champion and friend. Auntie couldn’t stand her, and I had a feeling the sentiment was mutual, but Heddy stood up for me and had taken me into her more than ample bosom.
I wasn’t sure I liked the honor; it meant I had to listen to her gab on and on, but it also meant that she still steered business our way, and she was always first stop on the grapevine if you wanted to hear the latest rumors making the rounds.
“Heddy, I have something I need to ask you, and I’d appreciate it if you’d think really hard about your answer. This is important.” I let my voice linger over the last word. Heddy loved to be included in anything that might remotely be earthshaking.
She caught her breath. “Of course, Persia. You know I’m only too happy to help. What do you want to know?”
“You came to Lisa for a facial on Friday morning, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. I come in every week on Friday.”
“Did Lisa say anything about where she might be going or what she might be planning for the weekend? Anything that seemed out of the ordinary?”
The seconds on the clock ticked by as Heddy ruminated on the question. After a moment, she said, “Well, she did mention that she was thinking of looking for a job in Seattle if things slowed down after the holidays. Is that any help?”
My spirits sank. Heddy had a nose for gossip that was more sensitive than a bloodhound’s. If she hadn’t picked up on anything useful, maybe my idea was a wild-goose chase. “Thanks, Heddy. It’s not quite what I was hoping for, but I appreciate your call.”
“Is something wrong? I heard through the grapevine that Lisa’s missing. Is that true?”
Great. Quid pro quo time, now. “Yes, she is. We aren’t sure where she went or even if she’s in trouble. That’s what we’re trying to find out. Maybe she took off with a friend for a few days and forgot to let anybody know.” I gracefully wormed my way through the rest of the conversation and cut it short. As I hung up, Barb came through the door.
“Hey, Jailbird!” She took off her coat and hung it in the closet. “What’s shaking?”
“What’s shaking with you? Who did you have dinner with?” My heart leapt, hoping it was Dorian. Maybe they’d patched things up.
Barb winked. “A very handsome man, but get your mind out of the gutter. And out of the clouds, for that matter. It wasn’t Dorian,” she said, and a wistful look spread over her face. “In fact, other than when he came over to find out what was going on at Venus Envy this afternoon, I haven’t talked to him since I left yesterday afternoon.”
“Who was your dinner date, then?” I asked, a little suspicious. Barb had been running on low self-esteem for months now, though for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. Hitting her forties had been a shock for her, rather than a time of empowerment, and she was feeling the lack of her youth. She’d always looked a decade younger than she was, but now her worries over aging were catching up to her. I had the feeling that stress over a few problems in her marriage was more of a culprit than her actual age.
“Ari. He’s trying to play liaison.”
Ari was Dorian’s nephew, and he doted on Barb and Dorian. It made sense that he’d be doing everything in his power to convince them to make up. He’d come over from Greece wanting to widen his options, and Dorian put him to work. He was now one of the head bakers at the Baklava or Bust Bakery and had decided to make the family business his career. Dorian and Barb had promised him a partnership if he stuck it out for ten years and did a good job.
“What did he say?” I asked.
Barb gave me a smug look. “I guess Dorian confided in him that Mama Konstantinos is being a real bear now that I’m gone. She’s trying to tighten the apron strings, and without me there to take the heat, Dorian’s getting it full force. I think he’s remembering just why he left Greece in the first place. I’ll bide my time,” she added. “Give it a couple of days and see what happens. Meanwhile, you tell me what the hell happened today. I can’t believe Kyle arrested you!”
Auntie and I bade good-bye to Winthrop, then she yawned and headed toward the stairs. “I’m going to turn in early and read in bed, girls. You get some sleep, and no partying tonight!”
We laughed and waved her off, then curled up by the fire, surrounded by the dogs, most of the cats, and Hoffman, who clucked and pecked his way over to jump up on the footstool, then on the sofa. He settled down next to me with a satisfied shake of the feathers.
As we relaxed in front of the crackling flames, Barb’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. “Dorian. Should I?”
“Oh, why not? You can always hang up if he gets obnoxious.”
Frowning, she bit her lip, then answered the call. “Yeah, I’m here . . . Ari talked to you? He said what? Yes, that’s right . . . Dorian, you don’t know how rotten she makes me feel; you refuse to see it. No, don’t come over. I said no!”
She stared at the phone and hung up. “Dorian’s on his way. I told him no, but you know him. Let’s talk about something else. So tell me, how was jail?” Barb asked, exploring the potato chip bag.
I shook my head. “Wouldn’t know. Never saw the inside of a cell. I’m going to have to let Elliot off the hook on this one, at least in terms of civil court.” I told her what Winthrop had said, and she blanched.
“Persia, Elliot’s behavior is escalating. I’m worried. I didn’t used to think he was dangerous but now—who knows?”
Hoffman began to pick at his feathers, grooming himself, and I patted the big old bird on the butt. He gave me a sharp look, then went back to his bath. Across the room, Nalu perked up when he saw the rooster. Once in awhile he still attempted a coup on the critter, though Hoffman was handy with his beak and had never got more than a feather ruffled in one of their skirmishes. The dogs ignored the bird as if he was no more than a bug on the wall.
I considered the situation. Elliot, dangerous? Two weeks ago, I would have laughed her off, but today’s escapade heightened his threat factor. “I’ll talk to Kyle about him. Winthrop’s getting a restraining order, but you and I both know that doesn’t always work.” My cell phone rang. “Hold on, be right back,” I said, jumping up to get my purse. A glance at caller ID told me it was Killian.
“Hey, sweets, how’d the meeting go?” I asked as I punched the Talk button. I’d been too busy to worry about how he was doing, but now I held my breath, hoping to hear good news.
Killian whooped in my ear. “They love it! They’re willing to buy in. I wish I could do this on my own, I don’t like having partners, but their backing means I can start over now instead of waiting a couple of years to build up capital. So I’m back in business, baby.”
I whooped along with him. He’d been working so hard to recover from Bebe’s sabotage. “What’s next, then? When do you open the doors?”
“First, I make a trip to New York after Thanksgiving. Until then, I’m going to be tied up with lawyers here. I’ll be able to make it over for the holiday, but until then, I’m going to be swamped. You don’t mind, do you?”
I smiled. We had agreed that we wouldn’t be clingy, but lately we’d been asking each other, “Is it okay?” more than I wanted to admit. At this point, it wasn’t spooking me, and I hoped it wouldn’t become a problem.
“Not at all. You do what you have to. Are you staying in Seattle until Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah, that would be easiest. I can camp here at my brother’s place, and it will cut out the ferry commute. I’ll see you Thursday. I’ll come early. Want me to bring anything?” He sounded positively giddy.
I laughed. “Just your cute little butt. Stay here Thursday night?”
“Of course. Tha
t will give me Friday and Saturday to pack. So how was your day?”
I had a feeling anything I said would barely register, he was so excited. “I punched out my ex and got arrested. Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said. Before he could get another word out, I hurried to add, “Love you! See you Thursday,” and hung up. I grinned at Barbara, who laughed. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . .”
Ring. Yep, right on cue.
“What the hell did you say?” Killian was sputtering.
I snickered. “You heard me. I broke Elliot’s nose after he threw a handful of rocks through one of Venus Envy’s windows and got myself arrested. It’ll be okay. Winthrop’s sure he can work out a deal where Elliot will drop the charges. I’m fine, so don’t go all hyper on me.”
Silence. Then, “You take the cake. Life around you is never boring, I’ll give you that. So, Elliot’s in jail?”
“Unless he had the money to bail himself out, yeah. Honestly, I’m fine. Kyle had to take me in. He didn’t want to.”