One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1)

Home > Other > One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1) > Page 6
One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1) Page 6

by Nic Saint


  “How—how can you be so sure?” he asked.

  “Oh, Rick,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  A twinge of alarm shot through him. He knew it. She had detected some symptom, some indication… He slumped a bit. “It will happen again, won’t it?”

  She shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “No, it won’t.”

  He gazed at her wistfully. It was so sweet of her to reassure him, even though she must know better. “Thank you, Felicity. You’re very kind.”

  “Please call me Fe.”

  “Fe. What a lovely name.”

  A lovely name for a lovely girl. Too bad he was a sick man, for she was proving herself to be quite different than he’d first anticipated. She was a far cry from the hard and uncaring soul he’d first taken her for. As she sat next to him, holding his hand and gazing softly into his eyes, he felt those flutterings of his heart increase in both intensity and rapidity.

  It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. Spending most of his adult life in a competitive environment, he’d grown accustomed to the kind of gravel-chewing career women prevalent in his line of business, and he suddenly found himself irrevocably drawn to the tender woman by his side. Before he could stop himself, he leaned in and kissed her fervently. It was only after he’d done this for about thirty seconds that a sharp slap on his cheek told him something was wrong. And when he opened his eyes, Felicity was giving him the same gimlet-eyed stare she’d given him on all the previous occasions they’d met.

  CHAPTER 15

  Felicity stared out the window while the world outside grew dark. Evening had fallen and she found herself in the grip of a strong sense of melancholy. She transferred her gaze to Alice, who was sipping her chamomile tea and nibbling from one of the donuts that were always present and accounted for at the cozy little house they shared. As it often happened, Felicity had brought home a bag full of the delicious treats that were her friend’s favorite.

  Alice was a card-carrying member of the Happy Bays Neighborhood Watch Committee or HBNWC and a proud one at that. In fact she practically ran the thing, keeping the other members, mostly senior citizens, on a short leash. And as an HBNWC member she often saw herself as an extension of the Happy Bays Police Department, hence the donut fascination. Wrongly or correctly, Alice believed that donuts were a police officer’s main source of nutrition.

  Although she usually ran her rounds at night, this night she’d opted to stay home and buck up her friend. Felicity was glad for the support. She could use it.

  “I don’t think I heard you right,” Alice began. “Did you say he kissed you? Actually touched your lips with his and kissed you?”

  “That’s what I said and I’m sticking to it.”

  “And then you slapped him.”

  Felicity merely nodded, cursing her volatile temper.

  “You mean to tell me that for the first time in—”

  She gave her friend a warning frown.

  “—just a little while a man kissed you, and you actually slapped him?”

  Morosely, she picked at her own donut. “I did.”

  “How many times is it now that you’ve physically assaulted the guy?” She did her best to keep a straight face but failed miserably.

  “I lost count,” Felicity said between gritted teeth. She really didn’t want to go there. As if it wasn’t enough that she cursed herself, Alice had to go and rub salt in the wound.

  “Let’s see. First there was the baby peas incident.”

  “That doesn’t count. Purely self-defense.”

  “All right. We’ll let that one slide. Then you had him arrested.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Next: the egg incident.”

  “Yes.”

  “And the meat cleaver.”

  “I never even threw the damn thing!”

  “Then we have the frying pan.”

  “I bobbled it! You know how I always bobble the ball!”

  “Whatever you say, butterfingers.”

  Felicity buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God.”

  “And then finally, the slap.”

  “You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Am not. I just think it’s important not to lose sight of the salient facts pertaining to the case.” She shrugged. “If this ever goes to court, we need to be able to tell the judge our side of the story.”

  “There is no case. He’s in love with me, apparently.”

  Her friend’s eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious. I could see it in his eyes before he locked lips with me.”

  “After all that’s happened he’s still willing to take a chance on romance?”

  “Very funny. I’m telling you, the love light was clearly visible in those baby blues of his.” She slumped a little more and idly pushed her food around, a clear sign she was in the dumps. She was a firm believer in finishing her plate.

  “Now this is a story fit to print,” Alice muttered, her eyes bright with excitement.

  Felicity looked up in alarm. “No way.” She quickly checked around, making sure she wasn’t secretly being filmed. “After the whole ‘I don’t need sex’ fiasco this is all I need.”

  “You have to admit it stirred things up.”

  “It stirred things up, all right. Every Tom, Dick and Harry walking into Bell’s is asking Mom if it’s true her daughter hasn’t had sex in ages.” She threw up her hands. “The whole town is butting into my sex life!”

  Mom had already given her an earful about it, and even Dad had asked if there was something she wanted to talk about.

  “Serves you right,” Alice stated decidedly. “It isn’t healthy for a young woman in her prime to deprive herself of one of the most primal urges. You should really give this some thought Fe.”

  “Oh trust me, I’ve given it a lot of thought. A heck of a lot. In fact it’s all I’ve been thinking about all damn day.” She stabbed a finger in her friend’s direction. “And all thanks to you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Alice said humbly, displaying that sly smile again. “Now, what are you going to do about Rick Dawson?”

  “What can I do? After that slap he seemed pretty determined to break off relations and never to kiss me again. Especially after one of the nurses came barging in and started blabbing about the whole frying pan incident, which apparently was news to him.”

  Alice’s eyes widened. “He didn’t know?”

  “I think if he’d known he would never have kissed me.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh is right,” she said miserably, then sighed. “Maybe it’s all for the best. I will never see that man again and so be it.”

  “You like him, don’t you?” Alice asked, narrowing her eyes.

  She shrugged. She’d come to the same conclusion herself. And if she hadn’t acted on impulse and slapped him, she might actually have enjoyed that kiss.

  “You do like him!” she cried.

  “What if I do? It makes no difference whatsoever. I’m sure by now he’s filed a restraining order against me. And I really can’t blame him. Ever since he met me, life has been one string of trouble for the poor guy.”

  “Poor guy? I thought you said he was a scoundrel.”

  “I may have changed my mind about that.” Somewhere around the time that kiss passed the ten second mark. Right before her hand had snuck up and ended it.

  “I think we should thresh this thing out a little more.”

  “I think not.”

  “No, this is important. You like Rick and he obviously likes you.”

  “Liked. Past tense.”

  “If in spite of the baby peas, the eggs and the frying pan he still kissed you, I think it’s safe to say one little slap won’t change his mind.”

  “He kissed me before he knew about the skillet,” Felicity pointed out.

  “That’s true.” Alice pondered this for a moment. “I think I know what’s to
be done. It’s time for some decisive action.”

  Felicity looked up in alarm. Every time her friend uttered the words ‘decisive action’, people got hurt. As she was something of a gun nut—one of her jobs was at her Uncle Mickey’s gun store—she was a lot more dangerous than Felicity. “Please, don’t,” she implored. “I really think you’ve done enough damage for one day. Need I remind you that there’s still a video out there about my sex life?”

  Alice waved away her reservations. “I’ll set the record straight, Fe.”

  Felicity hung her head. This was the end. Once Alice got involved, things had a way of going to hell in a handbasket. “There is no record to set straight. The man simply hates my guts.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “He made it very clear when he showed me the door.”

  “He didn’t know what he was doing. Probably still dazed by that kiss.”

  “Or the skillet.”

  “I’ll have a chat.”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Consider it done.” She grinned. “What are friends for, huh?” And with those ominous words, she took another bite from her donut and returned to her copy of Guns & Ammo. It was obvious she considered the discussion closed.

  Felicity knew she should have argued her point more vehemently but she felt weakened by the notion that Rick, in spite of his obvious faults, was growing on her. He had some really wacky ideas about women but apart from that he seemed like a nice guy. And then there was the fact that he was extremely easy on the eyes and their kiss had been extremely pleasant. So much so that she wouldn’t have minded if he tried again and maybe this time she might not even slap him.

  CHAPTER 16

  Johnny scratched his scalp. “What do you think?”

  Jerry grimaced. He’d just swallowed a mouthful of tea. “I think we should finish this.”

  They were sitting in the car, watching the Felicity Bell place. They’d been driving all over Happy Bays without so much as a glimpse at Dawson and they were at their wits’ end. The man they worked for didn’t tolerate failure and if by this time tomorrow they still hadn’t succeeded in accomplishing their mission, there would be hell to pay.

  “So what do we do? Knock her about a bit?”

  “Look, it’s very simple,” explained Jerry for the umpteenth time. “This Bell woman is after Dawson same as we are. With me so far?”

  Johnny screwed up his face. Thinking had never been his strong suit. “Yup.”

  “It’s obvious she’s managed to locate the guy, or else she wouldn’t have been able to put him in jail.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So all we have to do is convince her to tell us what she knows…”

  “Can you repeat that?”

  “We need her to spill the beans on Dawson.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Jerry sagged in his seat. He was feeling weaker by the minute and he was starting to doubt whether he could go through with this thing. From what he’d heard, the Bell woman was a really tough nut to crack, and with his strength fading with every passing minute, he was starting to have second thoughts.

  He hadn’t believed it possible but three days into his fast and he was feeling closer to the grave than ever. A couple more days like this and he wouldn’t even be able to open the car door, let alone squeeze some tough baby like Felicity Bell for information.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this, Jer?”

  “I gotta.” He coughed. “If we don’t get to this Dawson character the boss will have us for breakfast.” He shook his head as a shooting pain lanced his stomach. Amazing how an empty stomach could be so painful. “I’m telling you Johnny, I have half a mind to chuck this whole fast and start eating again.”

  “Don’t do it, Jer,” Johnny told him. “You have to see this thing through. You know how important it is to Marlene.”

  “I know, I know,” he muttered. It was important to Marlene. He didn’t know why exactly, but apparently she thought his bad eating habits from the past posed a serious threat to his life. Smoking, drinking and stuffing his face… If she was to be believed he was at death’s door, the only thing preventing him from keeling over, this crazy fast of hers. With a disgusted groan he opened the glove compartment and took out his gun. “We need to do this now, Johnny,” he croaked. “A couple hours more and I won’t have the strength to pull this off!”

  “Don’t worry, Jer. I got your back,” the big guy said. “We’re in this together, you and me.”

  He bared his teeth, which was his way of smiling. “Thanks, buddy.” Johnny’s words had touched him. To anyone claiming there was no honor amongst thieves and crooks, he always pointed to the fine working relationship he had with Johnny Carew. There was no better friend than the big lug who’d been his trusty companion for the past five years, ever since they’d found themselves employed by Chazz Falcone, the real estate tycoon. And even though they’d never met before, and didn’t have much in common, a fine friendship had sprung up during the long hours they’d spent putting the fear of God into Falcone’s enemies, of which there were many.

  With a supreme effort, he opened the car door and crawled out. After a brief dizzy spell—something which Marlene had told him was absolutely normal and nothing to worry about—he started for the door of Stanwyck Street Number 41.

  “Let’s do this,” he grumbled.

  “Sure thing, Jer. Let’s get this over with,” echoed Johnny.

  They stared up at the building, put their game faces on, and rang the bell.

  CHAPTER 17

  Rick sat in his car across the street from Felicity’s home, wrestling with his immortal soul. On the one hand he had to admit he really liked the hot-headed young woman who had, several times now, assaulted the physical integrity of his person. At the hospital, when they’d locked lips, he’d suddenly found himself entering a reality much more blissful than his own.

  Even though he might look like a young Paul Newman, his profession had always prevented him from getting into a relationship with any woman. Casual acquaintances? Sure. But since he was always on some assignment in some part of the world, his relationships had always lacked the staying power that is necessary for developing a meaningful bond. And then there was, of course, his aversion to the kind of hard-hearted females that populated his world.

  Felicity Bell, on the other hand, possessed, hidden beneath a layer of pure Kevlar, a tender heart. He’d suspected it from the first, and after the display of compassion she’d shown at the hospital he was now quite sure of it.

  But then had entered the nurse with the revelation Felicity had used his head for skillet practice and he hadn’t known what to think. Here was a girl who violently hit him over the head one minute and gazed lovingly into his eyes the next.

  It was enough to confuse any man and it had certainly confused him. Even to the point that he’d had a few harsh words to say on the subject. The confession, coming so soon upon the first kiss they’d shared—one he’d hoped as they were sharing it would be the first of many—had been quite heart-wrenching.

  Watching her leave the room, her head held high but with that touch of sadness in her eyes, relief had quickly been replaced with remorse. He’d made a mistake, he felt. Had been too quick to point out her faults.

  Hadn’t she apologized while sitting next to him on the bed? Hadn’t she shown regret for the rash act? Of course she had. And how had he responded? By calling her a menace and throwing her out of the room.

  The moment he’d been discharged from the hospital therefore, he’d returned to Stanwyck Street, fully intent on setting the record straight by apologizing profusely and asking her out to dinner.

  And it was then that he saw two familiar figures sidling up to her door.

  Jerry Vale and Johnny Carew were two of Chazz Falcone’s thugs. He should know, for he’d dealt with them before. The moment Falcone had learned about the revealing series of articles he was planning on him, he’d sent Jerry and Johnny round to p
ressure him into thinking twice about the project.

  The fact that they were in Happy Bays came as no surprise to him, given that Falcone was not a man who gave up easily. But why were they making house calls at Felicity’s address?

  It struck him as sinister, to say the least. Suspicious, even. What was that lovely baker’s connection to a known scum-bucket like Chazz Falcone?

  He’d been working the man’s piece for weeks now, digging up all kinds of dirt on the tycoon, until the call had come from Suggs that his employment had been terminated. When he’d asked Suggs if this termination had anything to do with the Falcone thing, the irascible editor had curtly responded with his patented ‘no comment’, which had practically been an admission that it had.

  No matter. He would rework the series into a hard-hitting book, and after it had reached the number one position on the New York Times bestseller list, he’d have his pick of jobs, he was sure of it. Perhaps even the New York Times itself would come knocking on his door.

  He watched Jerry and Johnny enter Felicity’s cozy little place and frowned darkly. His reporter’s instincts told him something was seriously rotten in the town of Happy Bays and he would get to the bottom of it no matter what.

  He hardened his heart, therefore banishing all romantic notions of Felicity, and replaced them with the barracuda-like determination that had served him so well as a reporter.

  He got out of the car and made his way over to the small strip of land that divided the block of houses from the next. Quickly moving along the path, he found himself gazing down a small stretch of backyards. Calculating which one belonged to Felicity and Alice, he glanced up at the second floor. The curtains hadn’t been drawn and he could see the lithe figure of Alice passing by the window. Bingo.

  Without further ado, he stepped over the small hedge that lined the garden, and took a firm grip on the drainpipe. Heaving himself up without effort, he made his way to the balcony, swung his leg over and pressed his back against the wall. Inching closer to the window, he eagerly placed his ear against the pane, fully intent on finding out all there was to know about Felicity and her suspicious association with Falcone’s men.

 

‹ Prev