A Widow in Paradise & Suburban Secrets

by Donna Birdsell

  “No kidding. What happened?”

  “I convinced him not to call the police.”

  “How much money was in the bag?” Guy asked.

  “Thirty-one thousand, six hundred dollars.”

  Guy whistled through his teeth.

  “How much was in the safe?” Dannie said.

  “A hundred and fifty.”

  “Dollars?”

  “Grand.”

  “A hundred and fifty thousand? I don’t understand. Why would you have that much money in a safe? Why wouldn’t you put it in the bank?”

  Guy scratched his chin. “Let’s just say the origins of the cash were somewhat suspect.”

  “You stole it?”

  “No! Nothing like that.”

  “Then what?”

  Guy shook his head. “I’m not a thief, Dannie. I couldn’t get another loan from the bank, so I borrowed the money from…another source. And now, obviously, I have no way to pay it back. So I’m screwed, unless I find Lisa and get my money back.”

  Dannie exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Did you find out anything in Cuatro Blanco?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “So why didn’t you stay?”

  “There was a problem with one of the permits for the spa that had to be taken care of immediately.”

  “It couldn’t have waited another day or two?”

  “Only if I wanted to pay a plumbing crew to sit around for that long.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  “Mommy! Emma smells bad,” Richard yelled. “Do you want me to get the diaper bag?”

  Guy got up. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “If you’re trying to turn me on, it’s working,” Dannie said.

  Guy flashed her his famous dimples before he went off to handle diaper duty. There was a side to him that was really very sweet. And sweet was something she could use right now.

  She only hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in telling him about the counterfeit bills. But really, who else could she turn to about this if she wasn’t going to turn to Lyle?

  Chapter Nine

  QUINCY LAY PANTING on the rug beside the couch, exhausted from a day of chasing kids, squirrels and sticks that Guy had thrown.

  The children were in the spare bedroom—the twins in the portable playpen Dannie had in the car, Betsy in the single bed and Richard on a pile of blankets on the floor. He’d balked at first, but when Guy had told him that was how the cowboys did it, Richard had been sold.

  Now Dannie sat on the couch with Guy as he flipped through the television channels, looking for a movie for them to watch.

  He had convinced her to stay at his place instead of going back to her in-laws. It hadn’t been difficult.

  He might drive her crazy, but she did feel safe with him. It was probably all that muscle.

  “You’re good with kids,” Dannie said. “Where did that come from?”

  “I have five nieces and nephews. I was hoping Lisa and I would have a few, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

  Once again Dannie was struck by how much Guy had lost, too. She touched his hand. “You’ll have it someday. You’ll find someone.”

  “Right. I can’t even find a decent movie.” He handed her the remote.

  She flipped through the channels. “Have you ever seen Escape from Zombie Island?”

  “Sounds great.”

  Dannie yawned. “It is.”

  They settled back to watch, but before the opening credits finished rolling, Dannie had drifted off to sleep.

  She dreamed she and Guy were dancing naked on a beach, their bodies slick with suntan oil, the ocean waves licking their toes.

  When she woke up, she was sprawled across Guy’s chest, her face pressed against his neck. Guy’s arm was draped across her back, his big hand cupping her rear end. Quincy was licking her toes.

  She stirred, and Guy tightened his grip, groaning in his sleep. Her insides went liquid at the sound. Dear God, she just wanted to peel his clothes off and get the suntan oil.

  She pressed her lips lightly to his neck, a night’s worth of razor stubble rough against her lips. She closed her eyes, breathing in the beachy scent of his that drove her insane.

  Guy stirred and kissed her, his eyes still closed.

  Dannie’s heart rate sped to dangerous levels. Was he even awake? Did he know what he was doing to her?

  Did she care?

  She closed her eyes and drifted into the kiss—a warm, lazy morning kiss. The kind that usually led to warm, lazy morning sex.

  Guy moved her hips against his. Dirty Dancing, just like her dream, only horizontal—

  Wait a minute. This was a man who drove her insane—and not in a good way. What in hell was she doing?

  She’d never been able to think straight before her coffee.

  She scrambled to her feet.

  Guy gave a disappointed moan. “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s morning,” she said.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight. I have to get out of here. The window guy is coming at nine.”

  He sat up. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No!” She raked her fingers through her curls. “No, that’s okay. Really.”

  Guy rubbed his eyes. “The kids aren’t up yet?”

  “I think you wore them out yesterday. They haven’t played like that since…”

  “Since Roger?”

  She nodded.

  He cleared his throat. “Listen, if you want to leave them here until you get your window fixed, I’d be happy to watch them.”

  “That’s nice of you, but they’re really a handful.”

  He laughed. “I can handle them. Now, Quincy on the other hand…”

  Quincy had spied a squirrel outside in the yard, and was flinging his sizable body against the sliding glass door.

  “He was dropped on his head when he was a puppy.” She opened the door and let him outside. “Guy, listen. I appreciate your letting us stay here last night, but we really do have to go.”

  “All right. Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

  “I can’t.”

  “How about tomorrow night?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then when?”

  She was silent.

  His smile faded. “Ah. I see. You want to say, ‘never,’ but you’re too polite.”

  She blew a curl off her forehead. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings. But I can’t go out with a man who keeps insisting my dead husband is alive.”

  “What if I don’t say that anymore?”

  “Guy—”

  “Dannie, I like you a lot. I’m attracted to you, and I think you’re attracted to me.”

  “So what if I am? It doesn’t change anything. I’m not ready to be with anyone right now. Especially not the husband of the woman Roger had an affair with.”

  “So you believe he had an affair with Lisa?”

  “That issue was never in question.”

  “Then why don’t you believe there might be more to the story? Especially since you found that money.”

  “How are we supposed to find out?” She paced in front of the couch. “I’ve scoured the house for something, anything that could give me a clue as to what was going on. But I didn’t find anything. I’m assuming you haven’t, either, or you wouldn’t have come to me.”

  “So we’ll work together—”

  “No, Guy. I’m done. Roger is dead, and I’m going to get on with my life. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Don’t you want to know who’s breaking in to your house? Somebody is looking for something.”

  Dannie shook her head. “I don’t know that the broken window had anything to do with this. Maybe it was just a random break-in.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  Dannie gave him a small smile. “I’m trying to.”r />
  She left him sitting there and went into the guest room. Betsy was sitting up in bed. Richard looked up at her from the makeshift bed on the floor. “Do we have to go?”

  He looked so sad, it nearly broke her heart.

  She knew just how he felt.

  “I’m afraid so, honey. Come on, get up. We have to get our stuff together.”

  “Are we going to see Guy again soon?” Betsy asked.

  “We’ll see.” Dannie bent over the portable crib and shook the twins awake.

  “That means no,” Richard said.

  “That means we’ll see,” Dannie argued.

  Why was she giving them false hope? Why couldn’t she just say it? Why couldn’t she tell her children they were probably never going to see Guy again, ever?

  Maybe because she didn’t want to believe it herself.

  LYLE CALLED JUST AS the glass repair truck pulled out of the driveway.

  “Is your window fixed?” he said.

  “The repairman just left,” Dannie said. “Why?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Guy Loughran.”

  At the sound of his name, her stomach did a little flip.

  Okay, enough with the schoolgirl crush.

  “Lyle, I just want to relax. I have to go back to work tomorrow, and I want to give the kids a bath—”

  “Ten minutes, that’s all. Can I come over?”

  She sighed. “Okay. Come on over.”

  Luckily she’d already straightened up the mess the intruders had left.

  Furniture overturned, drawers rifled, pictures pulled off the walls.

  But the chaos ended at the dining room. The kitchen—including the hot-dog box—hadn’t been touched. It was almost as if they’d been interrupted.

  Was it possible they’d still been in the house when she and the kids got back yesterday? She gave a little shiver.

  A few minutes later the doorbell rang. She peeked out the newly fixed window. Lyle stood on the front step, hands in his pockets.

  She opened the door. “That was fast.”

  “I was picking up my dry cleaning around the corner,” he said. “Can I come in?”

  She nodded.

  He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t want to freak you out, but I think I’m being followed.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  He pointed out the window. “That blue car. I’ve seen it at least three times this morning.”

  A dark blue Chevy was parked half a block down from Dannie’s door.

  “There’s nobody in it,” she said.

  Lyle pulled her away from the window. “It was a woman driving.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “I don’t know. She had dark hair, and sunglasses.”

  Dannie thought about the woman from the airport with the straw hat, and her heartbeat quickened. “Why would someone be following you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with Roger…”

  Richard and Betsy ran into the room. “Uncle Lyle! Uncle Lyle!”

  When Betsy grabbed Lyle’s legs, he gave her an awkward pat on the head.

  “Hey, what’s going on, kids?”

  “Somebody broke our window,” said Richard. “And it wasn’t me.”

  “I heard.”

  “And we had a sleepover,” Betsy said. “We went to G—”

  “Kids,” Dannie interrupted, “your uncle Lyle and I are having an important conversation. Go play.”

  “But—”

  “Go!”

  Richard and Betsy ran from the room.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Dannie started for the kitchen.

  Lyle stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Where were you last night?”

  “I told you. Elizabeth and Albert’s.”

  Lyle raked his fingers through his hair. “Don’t lie to me, Dano. I went there to see you. They said you’d left at eleven yesterday morning and they hadn’t heard from you since.”

  Maybe she should have felt guilty for lying to a friend, but she didn’t. Instead, she was mad.

  “Why did you insist on looking for me after I told you I was okay?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about something I found out. Something important. But you weren’t there.” His voice held an accusatory tone.

  “Okay, fine. I was at Guy Loughran’s house. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d overreact.”

  “Guy’s? Please tell me you’re not serious.”

  “I don’t really see where it’s any of your business,” Dannie said. “My relationship with Guy has nothing to do with you.”

  “Relationship? Jesus, Dannie. You’ve got to stop this infatuation with him.”

  “I’m not infatuated with him! He’s a friend, that’s all.”

  “He’s involved with Jimmy Duke.”

  Dannie sucked in a breath. “What?”

  Lyle nodded. “I did a little bit of asking around about Guy yesterday. Word is Jimmy’s a partner in Guy’s ‘spa.’”

  Jimmy Duke was Wiser-Crenshaw’s biggest client. Roger had spent years regaling Dannie with reports of all the underhanded schemes Duke and the firm had devised to launder Duke’s millions, which had come from God knew where.

  Duke had dozens of businesses around town that served as fronts for illegal activities—offtrack betting, gambling, drug running. The list was endless.

  Almost everyone who was involved in dealings with Jimmy Duke was a thug or a con man. Or a sucker.

  Roger had hated the man. And now Dannie had gone and slept with one of his flunkies. Well, slept on him, anyway. But the idea was the same.

  “It has to be some kind of mistake,” she said, more to herself than to Lyle.

  “It’s not.” Lyle’s expression softened, and he touched her cheek. “Just stay away from Guy Loughran, okay?”

  She nodded, pulling away from his touch. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Well, then, I guess I better go take care of the kids. Goodbye, Lyle.”

  It was only after he’d left that Dannie remembered what Lyle had said about being followed. She looked out the window. The blue car was gone.

  She didn’t know what to think. Lyle being followed? Guy in bed with Jimmy Duke? Was his salon just another one of Duke’s fronts?

  What if Roger had discovered something about Guy and Jimmy Duke, and confronted one of them? Had Jimmy Duke killed Roger?

  Had Guy?

  Maybe this story about Roger having an affair with his wife was all a cover for something. Maybe Guy had had Roger killed, and was trying to find out how much Dannie knew.

  No. Impossible.

  She might not have liked Guy in the beginning, but Dannie prided herself on having good judgment when it came to people.

  She’d figured out that it was Timmy Quentin who’d told all the boys in tenth-grade gym class that he’d gone to third base with her. Her ears always itched around him.

  And she’d taken an immediate dislike to Richard’s peewee football coach, a man who’d run off with the team’s treasury halfway through the season. Her palms always itched when he was nearby.

  Nothing had itched around Guy.

  Still, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Lyle was right. If she knew what was good for her, she’d stay away from Guy Loughran altogether.

  Maybe nothing itched when she was around him, but it did tingle. And that meant nothing but trouble for a lonely widow with four kids.

  Chapter Ten

  “DON’T FORGET TO take your bees!” Dannie held up a stack of paper bumblebees her preschool art class had painted the week before.

  The children mobbed her as she passed the projects out, then they filed out into the hall, one by one, where their parents waited.

  Dannie shed the smock she’d been wearing over her clothes and slumped into a tiny plastic chair.

 
Kelly Smith, one of three other instructors at the Wee Ones Art Studio, sat down beside her.

  “Thanks for taking my classes yesterday,” Dannie said.

  “No problem. How was Cuatro Blanco?”

  Dannie picked a fleck of paint off her fingernail. “There was a hurricane the day I got there, and I didn’t get the chance to talk to anyone about Roger. Everyone was too busy cleaning up. So I came home.”

  “Wow. That sucks.”

  “Yeah. And then when I got home, my house had been broken in to. Two hundred and fifty bucks to replace the window they broke.”

  “Wow, that really sucks.”

  “You’re telling me. I had to take the money out of the water-heater fund.” Dannie got up and hung her smock on a hook near the door. “I’ve got to get going.”

  “I’ll walk out with you,” Kelly said, hanging her own smock next to Dannie’s.

  They chatted until they reached Dannie’s minivan. Kelly pointed to one of the tires. “Looks like you have a flat.”

  “Great.” Dannie looked at her watch. “I’ve got to pick up Richard at school.”

  “You want me to drive you?” Kelly said.

  Then she’d have to bring Richard back here while she changed the tire? No way.

  “Actually, if you could pick Richard up and take him to my neighbor’s house, that would be a big help.” She gave Kelly the address of the woman who was watching Betsy and the twins, and then she called the elementary school to let them know what was going on.

  After Kelly had gone, Dannie opened the back hatch of the van. What was she looking for exactly? A tire and a jack, right? Why was that so difficult? She poked around the back, but couldn’t find either one.

  She never should have let her AAA membership lapse.

  After ten minutes of searching, she located in a side compartment something that might have passed for a jack, but the spare tire was nowhere to be found.

  “Hey, there.”

  Dannie froze. She knew that voice.

  Guy.

  She turned around.

  His elbow stuck out of the driver’s window of his black Mustang. He wore a black leather jacket, and his hair was perfectly disheveled.

  Damn. He had no business looking that good.

  “You look upset,” he said. “Is something wrong?”

  She pulled the jack from the trunk. “I have a flat.”