My mother had never set me up on a date before. That’s precisely why last week I’d agreed to do this in the first place, having reasoned that this guy must really have something going for him. Now, however, I was more inclined to attribute the whole thing to a strong force of mother nature: my mother’s determination to have grandchildren nearby.
I drove below the speed limit the whole way to Boulder, seriously considering stopping. Maybe I should double back and drive around Mom’s house, checking for suspicious white sedans myself. But what would I do if I did find one? Ram it?
Still pondering the issue, I arrived at my house. A blue sporty-looking Mazda was parked out front. I parked, checked my rearview mirror and messed up my hair a little, promising myself that no matter what, I would not apologize for being late, but would explain that the date was off, due to some troubles I’d experienced today that were beyond my control.
Resolved, I walked inside, followed by Doppler, and found my roommate flitting over the most attractive man I’d seen in ages. He had straight, light-brown hair about the same shade as mine, and the bluest eyes I’d seen this side of Paul Newman, with a body and face to match. He wore a sports jacket over a teal-colored T-shirt and faded denims. With his broad shoulders and tapered waist and hips, he could wear that same wardrobe on the cover of GQ and get no argument from me.
Kaitlyn’s smile faded a little as she looked away from him—they shared seats on the couch, practically sharing the same cushion, as well—and said in a voice dripping with regret, “Here she is now.”
The man endeared himself to my heart by meeting my eyes only briefly, then smiling at Doppler. “What a handsome cocker you’ve got there,” he said. He called, “Here, boy.” Despite years of training, Doppler leapt onto his lap in an amazing display of instant affinity for the man.
“You must be Keith Terrington,” I said in a dazzling display of wit. “I’m Allida Babcock. I’m sorry that I’m so late.”
“That’s quite all right. Your mother’s said a lot of wonderful things about you.”
“Yes, but she feels genetically obligated.” I searched my memory for what Mom had told me about Keith. As I recall, she’d said of his appearance that he was “reasonably handsome, with brown hair and blue eyes.” She was right about the hair and eyes. But if this was “reasonably handsome,” Albert Einstein was reasonably intelligent.
He gave me a killer smile and asked, “Are you ready to go?”
“Not quite.” I turned to head for my room and heard myself say, “I just need a minute to freshen up.” I rolled my eyes as I reached my bedroom. Freshen up? I sounded like an ad for a feminine-hygiene product. In record speed, I changed into a denim shirtdress and leather boots with sizable heels, then set about repairing the damage the day had done to my makeup and hair.
I’m insecure enough that I prefer to date men I consider either roughly equivalent to my looks or slightly more flawed. I hate to have waitresses ogle my dates and then tell other waitresses, “He must be on a blind date,” which would be true tonight. That makes me sound paranoid, but I waitressed during college and partook of many a barb with my fellow employees about couples at the restaurant.
“All set,” I said while I cinched my best belt around my waist and returned to the living room. I hoped that, despite my frenetic pace, I could refrain from panting.
Kaitlyn was still sitting inches away from Keith on the couch, and Doppler grudgingly got off Keith’s lap to examine my new outfit and see if he could shed on it.
“You’re going to be proud to hear that I accepted a date of my own tonight,” Kaitlyn announced to me, then focused on Keith. “My husband and I are separated, but Allida here doesn’t think that a little thing like a broken heart should interfere with my social life.”
Keith raised an eyebrow at me.
“That’s not a direct quote,” I said in my defense. In point of fact, my lone suggestion had been for her to think about seeing someone new, but no sense quibbling over semantics. “Anybody I know?” I asked Kaitlyn, just to be polite, for the only man she’d ever mentioned to me was her virtual reality husband.
“No, I just met him today. Just after you left, in fact. I was sitting out on the porch, and he happened to be lost and asked me for directions. We hit it off, and he asked me out.”
She met him today! Oh, blast it all! The hairs on the back of my neck were rising like miniature warning flags.
“He was driving by in his car?”
She nodded.
“It wasn’t white, was it?”
“No, why?”
Both Kaitlyn and Keith were looking at me so intently that I doubted I could pass off the question with, “It’s bad luck to date a man in a white car,” so I said, “My new client, Beth Gleason, was murdered this afternoon. Since then, a white sedan has—”
“A client of yours was murdered?” Kaitlyn said in alarm, hands to her throat. “How do you know her death was murder?”
“She was stabbed. I found the body.”
Keith rose. “This happened to you just today? Do you still want—” He paused, then said gently, “If you’d like to take a rain check on our date tonight, I understand. Or maybe we should just go someplace quiet, where we can talk.”
“Yes, let’s do that last suggestion,” I said, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “If I just sit at home by myself tonight, I’ll get paranoid.”
“You’ll have to excuse me,” Kaitlyn said dramatically as she rose. “I have to get ready myself.” She left the room, saying, “Have a nice evening, Allida.”
“Thanks. You, too.” I watched her for a moment. However biased I was by her personality, Kaitlyn truly was pretty, especially because of her luxuriant auburn hair. There was little basis for my fear that her meeting a stranger who asked her on a date was anything other than a coincidence. As was my car getting a flat today. Each day was full of incidents, and until something as significant as a murder happens, we don’t consider their connections.
Keith, meanwhile, strode past me and held open the door. “Shall we?”
I grinned and started to waltz out the door, envisioning myself as the heroine in a romance novel. Until I realized that, even with my tall boots on, I was so much shorter than Keith I could easily have passed right under his arm as he supported the door.
My dog started to whine. “Bye, Doppler,” Keith said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be good to her.” He closed the door behind us.
He put his arm around my shoulder, but I froze in my steps. “How did you know my dog’s name?”
“Your roommate told me.” He removed his hand from my shoulder. “Why?”
“I’m sorry. Apparently I’m getting paranoid even when I’m not left alone with my imagination.”
Keith opened the passenger door of his car, which was, indeed, the blue Mazda. I got in, silently chastising myself. Why hadn’t I stopped to realize that Keith could easily have heard Doppler’s name from either Kaitlyn or my mother? I reached over to unlock his door.
“So, how long have you been working as a dog behaviorist?” he asked as we drove off.
“Only a few weeks, but I’ve trained dogs at kennels for years, back in Chicago. I went to school there and stayed in Evanston afterwards.”
“What brought you back here?”
“I just thought it’d be the perfect place to open this type of a business. Boulder seems to have more therapists per capita than any other city, and Boulderites feel so strongly about their canine population that leash laws make front page news.”
Keith gestured at the digital clock in the dashboard. “We’ve missed our reservations at Red Lion by quite a bit. Should we see if they can still fit us in?”
Feeling guilty that my late arrival had spoiled his plans, I shook my head. “Is there a less fancy place we can go to? I love that restaurant, but that’s one of those places where they introduce you by first name to the maitre d’, the waiter, the wine steward, the chef, the busboy. Sometimes I feel like telling t
hem I’m just there to eat, not to befriend their staff.”
Keith laughed and said, “Burgers and beer at Tom’s Tavern?”
“Perfect.”
Tom’s Tavern is located just west of the downtown pedestrian mall, and we had the predictable battle to find a parking space—so much so that we would have been better off leaving Keith’s car at my house and walking. The long, narrow restaurant was crowded, but we eventually got a booth and ordered. It occurred to me that everyone who’d heard about me through the show had to know about Sage and was, until the police could show otherwise, under suspicion. At least Keith had made this date prior to Sage’s entering my life.
I felt off-kilter throughout the evening. Every time there was a loud noise behind me, I jumped, half expecting to feel the point of a knife at the back of my neck. I may as well have had one of those “invisible fences” around me, operating in reverse to keep men away. And yet, ironically, this was my second date in the same day, and a third man had asked me out. Was I suddenly doing something right? Or was my I’m-not-interested-in-a-man-in-my-life-just-now philosophy drawing men to me faster than canines to a dog whistle? And how long could I keep up with these unspoken men-as-dogs analogies till I made some god-awful verbal miscue?
We finished our meals. I became unbearably antsy and excused myself to phone my mother. There was no answer. Her recorder kicked on, and I said, “Mom, this is Allida. Where are you? I’m really worried. I’m going to call back again in a few minutes, and if you’re not there, I’ll head out there or something.”
My stomach was in knots as I hung up. Keith asked me what was wrong the moment I returned to my seat.
“Mom’s not home. There’s no reason for her to be out this late. I know she’s a pilot and everything, but even so, she doesn’t fly or drive at night anymore. She has too much trouble with her night vision.”
Keith straightened. “What would you like to do? Should I take you home?”
“No. Not yet. I’ll call again in a little while. I’m sorry about all of this. I’m really a fairly nice, normal person most of the time.”
Keith grabbed my hand over the table and held my gaze, which was difficult for me, because I felt a bit swoonish— if that’s a word—under the intensity of his incredible eyes and the warmth of his hand. “I have no doubt, Allida.”
All of a sudden, I loved my first name, now that I heard it spoken by Keith. I felt my cheeks warming and knew my face must be beaming as bright as reindeer Rudolph’s nose. He released my hand, which I immediately jerked back to my lap. “I’ll go make that call now. Excuse me.”
“Well, that was really smooth,” I muttered under my breath as I crossed the room. Now I was feeling suspicious of Keith for acting more impressed with me than I thought he should be. Talk about a no-win situation. I dialed and sighed with relief when my mother answered. “Thank goodness you’re there, Mom. I got really worried when you didn’t answer before.”
“For heaven’s sake, Allie! I was out back playing fetch with the dogs and I didn’t hear the phone.”
“You were playing fetch in the dark?”
“Yes. I wasn’t the one fetching the stick, after all, so the darkness really didn’t spoil things for me. Did you cancel your date with Keith?”
“No, we went out. Keith is wonderful. He’s everything you said he was, and more. Our date is still going on, as a matter of fact. I’m calling from the restaurant.”
There was a pause. “When you were sixteen, you used to have a fit if I waited up for you. Now you’re thirty-two years old, and you’re calling your mother while you’re out with a man you say is ‘wonderful.’ What is going on with you, Allida?”
I clenched my jaw and tried to count to ten, but only made it to three. “I’m not calling to chat, Mother! I’m calling to make sure you’re all right and find out whether or not you’ve talked to the police yet!”
“The sheriff. Yes. No arrests have been made, I’m sorry to say.” After a pause, she said, “Is Keith wearing his lucky hat?”
“Hat?” I repeated, immediately on edge at the mention of the clothing item that put Sage into frenzy.
“Yes, he has a beat-up hat he always wears for luck when he flies. I figured, if he’s wearing it tonight, he’s hoping...Never mind. I don’t like where this thought pattern is taking me.”
“He didn’t wear a hat tonight, Mom.”
“Oh, good. I guess. Do me a favor and don’t call me during any more of your dates, okay? You might be an adult, but you’re still my daughter, and I’d just as soon not worry about how your date is treating you.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Keith in the booth. He wasn’t looking in my direction. “He’s been what you’d call a perfect gentleman. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I hung up and returned to the table. “Mom’s fine.” Testing, I added, “She asked about your lucky hat.”
“My lucky hat?” Keith repeated. “What about it?”
I studied his handsome features, trying to decide if his reaction was guileless. “She wanted to know if you were wearing it.”
“I only wear it when I fly. It’s too shabby-looking for anything else.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and we chatted easily as Keith brought me home and walked me to the front door. I decided to circumvent the first date awkwardness and turned when I was still a step above him to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Keith. I’m so sorry all of this happened to me today of all days. Please call me again and let’s make a new start of this.”
“I will,” he said, smiling. “Good night.”
He waited while I started to unlock the door, but found that it wasn’t locked. Kaitlyn’s date must have been even more of a disaster than mine for her to have beaten me home. I said good night and thanked Keith again, and watched him from my doorway as he drove away. A floorboard creaked from the back of the house, and I headed down the hall to tell Kaitlyn that I was home.
As I started past my room, my heart leapt to my throat. I screamed at the sight of a man rifling through the top drawer of my dresser.
Chapter 10
“Don’t scream!” he cried. He headed toward me.
I slammed my bedroom door and ran to the kitchen as fast as I could go, stumbling through the doorway. I snatched a long, heavy knife from the butcher block holder by the sink and dialed 911 with my free hand.
The call didn’t go through. The phone made a rhythmic shrilling in my ear. It dawned on me what the sound meant. Damn it! One of the phones in the bedrooms was off the hook!
Doppler had followed me and started barking his guard dog bark in the intruder’s direction. I dropped the receiver and turned to see the man in the doorway. He froze at the sight of the long knife in my hand. Doppler growled and barked as loud as he could, inches in front of me.
“Don’t come near me!” I held the knife poised, my heart pounding so hard I could barely breathe. “My other dog is a German shepherd!”
“Put the knife down,” he said, with slow, careful enunciation. “I’m Bill Wayne, Kaitlyn’s husband.”
I stared at him, taking in the five-o’clock shadow on his lantern jaw, receding hairline, sunken eyes. He was of medium height and build. This was indeed an older, more haggard version of the groom in my roommate’s wedding photos.
My brain tried to tell my senses that I was probably not on the verge of having to defend my life, after all. My body refused to relax. Doppler, however, had toned down his barks to a woof every couple of seconds, not unlike a bag of microwave popcorn nearing the end of its cooking cycle.
“What are you doing here?” I kept a tight grip on my knife and indicated the useless phone with a tip of my head. “You have five seconds to explain yourself, or I’m calling the police.”
“I have every right to be here. This is my house. Half of it, anyway.”
“As far as I’m concerned, buddy, you’re in the wrong half! How dare you go through my things!”
He held up his palms, his vision
riveted to my knife. “I was just trying to locate your name and a work number. I needed to find some safe, neutral location where I could talk to you about my wife. She’s not at all well, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Aside from her acting somewhat manic at times, that is, but I wanted to hear his answer.
“Put the knife down and I’ll tell you.”
Unwilling to turn my back on him, I sidestepped over to the cabinet opposite the doorway he occupied and set the knife on the counter, within my immediate reach. I crossed my arms and awaited his reply, calculating that I could and would snatch the knife again if he made any sudden movements toward me.
“She’s not stable. She wrecked my business by calling my associates and customers to locate me every five minutes. I got out before she could destroy what little was left of my life. I want her to sell this place. I’ll personally refund whatever deposit you might have given Kaitlyn, if you’ll agree to help me convince her to sell.”
“Why do you need my help?”
“Because as long as Kaitlyn is soaking you for rent and insisting I come back to her, she’s never going to sell. I want my half of the proceeds on this house, and I want out of this marriage.”
“So, you felt you needed to convince me to help you. And the way you went about it was to break into my house and go through my private things and scare me half to death. I got to tell you, Bill, this has not been the best of strategies.”
“Sorry I frightened you.” He grimaced, in an expression that he, perhaps, thought made him look contrite. If so, he should look in a mirror, because the effect was more that of a smart aleck sneer. “I didn’t expect you to come back so soon.”
I tensed. Had he been following me? Was he the driver of the white sedan? If he was, I didn’t want to give away the fact that I was on the lookout for that particular vehicle. “What do you mean?”
Play Dead Page 10