“It’s not here,” Deidre said.
“It’s okay, Ms. Jamison. Sit down and finish.”
Tears shimmered in Deidre’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, officer, but this is very stressful. I thought giving him the design would be enough, but he wanted more.”
“How many did you give him?” Eddie asked.
Deidre fidgeted. “About a dozen.”
“Including Ms. Fitzgerald’s collection?”
“Just the jackets. I’m so sorry.” Deidre sent Eddie a pleading glance, a tear escaping and rolling down her face. “Am I going to jail?”
“That depends,” Eddie said. “Did you know he hired a couple of thugs to vandalize Ms. Fitzgerald’s store?”
Deidre’s eyes grew wide then she nodded jerkily.
“What about an attack on Ms. Fitzgerald’s assistant?”
“She posted a video of Sean online. He was very angry.”
Eddie leaned forward. “I’ll be frank with you, Ms. Jamison. You’re knee deep in this mess. If you don’t want to go to jail as his partner, work with us to bring him down.”
“Yes!” Deidre moved to the edge of the chair. “I’ll do anything.”
“Good.” Eddie pushed the notebook and pen toward Deidre. “First, write everything you just told me and sign it. Then we’ll talk.”
Deidre started to write.
Ken leaned back and chuckled. “We got him.”
“You got him,” Faith corrected and slipped her arms around his mid-section. “Just like I knew you would.”
CHAPTER 16
Faith was alone in bed when she woke up the next day. She ran her hand over the pillow next to hers, touching the indentation Ken’s head left behind. Where was he? The bathroom door was open, so he couldn’t be in the shower. She angled her head and listen for sounds from downstairs.
Nothing.
Frowning, she sat up and called out, “Ken?”
No response.
The clock by the bedside said it was almost one. No wonder he was gone. Deidre was meeting with Eddie at his precinct at one. Ken had insisted on being there even though Eddie had said no. Faith smiled. The way those two locked horns over everything and often, she’d learned not to get in the middle of their arguments.
Faith still couldn’t believe Deidre was willing to wear a wire and record Sean. If the wiretap worked, Sean would no longer be a problem. Faith would have the designs he stole back, and part of his collection removed. Ken had even offered Eddie his high-tech gadgets to expedite the process, but Eddie wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted to do everything by the book, so Sean couldn’t beat the system.
Sighing, she flopped back on the bed. With the Sean mess behind her, she could invest more in her relationship with Ken. They hadn’t had a moment to just kick back without her problems hovering in the back of her mind.
She turned her attention to the room. Though spacious, it was scarcely furnished, the king-size bed dominating half of it. She could have fun redecorating it, replacing the heavy, striped draperies, which weren’t bad if you liked earthy colors. She didn’t. A lighter colored area rug could interrupt the monotony of the speckled dark-brown carpet, and the right dresser with a mirror would add a touch of ageless elegance.
Jeez, she needed her head examined. She barely got back with the man yet she was already mentally re-decorating his bedroom. Soon, she’d start thinking about color schemes for the living room, his and her sink in his modest bathroom…marriage.
Grimacing, she scooted to the edge of the bed and stood. In only her panties, she raided Ken’s closet then hit the showers. When she came out later, her hair wrapped with a towel, she paused to study herself in the mirror. His shirt came to the middle of her thighs.
Downstairs, she retrieved her cell phone from her bag and headed for the kitchen. Ken had left her a note on the fridge door. She smiled as she read it. Yeah, they’d celebrate when he came home. Home had a nice ring to it.
She restarted the coffeemaker, settled on a stool by the kitchen island, and checked the calls she’d missed. The smile died from her lips when she saw that Sean had called her several times. Let him rot in hell. Deidre called her too. The nerve. The only way she would ever talk to that woman was after she helped put Sean behind bars.
Faith frowned when she saw more missed calls from Ashley, her father, Molly’s mother, and Jordan, the contractor working on her store. She called Molly’s mother first.
“How is she doing, Mrs. Bolden?”
“She’s stable. The doctors say she’ll be fine.” Her voice shook a bit. “I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls. I meant to but I was so exhausted every time I arrived back at my hotel.”
“Would you like me to stop by and help, bring you anything?”
“No, dear. My husband is here too and we’ve been taking turns. I promise to call you as soon as she improves. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Mrs. Bolden. What is it?”
“Detective Fitzgerald stopped by yesterday and spoke to me about the people who hurt my Molly. He said he’s your cousin.”
“Yes, he is. If anyone can catch them, it’s Eddie.”
“Can you promise to call me if he finds anything?”
“I will.” After she hung up, Faith felt terrible she couldn’t tell Molly’s mother about Sean. There might be no proof he actually hired those two thugs, but he hadn’t denied it when she accused him either. It still amazed her that such a sophisticated man knew where to find thugs for hire. Went to show just how little she knew him.
The next call was to the contractor. Faith grinned as she listened to him.
“Thanks, Jordan. I’ll stop by in a few hours.”
Faith went to the fridge, opened it, and searched for something to nibble on while she waited for Ken. The leftovers from last night were in plastic containers, but she wasn’t in the mood for something heavy. A box of yogurt caught her eye. She took one, and speed dialed Ashley’s number as she searched for a spoon.
“Hey, you famous designer, you,” Ash teased. “About time you returned my call.”
“Better late than never.” Faith leaned on the kitchen island and peeled the lid off the yogurt. “What do you mean by ‘famous designer’?”
“You mean you haven’t read today’s paper? Entertainment pages has a spread on last night’s show. Guess whose outfit got the highest bid, caught the attention of a certain feature writer, and has three of her pictures displayed for the whole world to see?”
Faith sat on a stool, her heart skipping. “What are you saying?”
“The title reads, ‘The Next Designer to Watch.’ Run out and get a copy, Faith, read it, then call me. You have some explaining to do, like why you were with your ex in the first place.”
“Long story.” Faith ate a spoonful of yogurt, her mind racing. To have her name out there before the show could be a blessing.
“Come over to my place pronto and tell me everything.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m at Ken’s with no means of transportation and nothing to wear except...” she glanced down at her bare legs and grinned, “his clothes.”
There was silence on the line then a chuckle, which became a laugh. “Did he hide your clothes? Take your wallet and keys, so you wouldn’t pull a disappearing act?”
Faith chuckled. “You have an overactive imagination. Ever cross your mind I’m a willing prisoner?”
“He didn’t tie you to his bed and throw away the key, did he?”
“What an idea.” Faith laughed, scooped yogurt, and brought it to her mouth.
“He told Ron he was tempted to do it.”
Faith nearly choked on her yogurt and sputtered globs of the creamy treat on the counter. She pulled out a sheet of paper towel and started cleaning, visions of her at Ken’s mercy flashing in her head. She’d probably love it while promising retribution.
“Faith?”
She threw the rest of the yogurt in the garbage
can. “When did he share this little tidbit?”
“When he was protecting me and you threw a party Bachelorette party for Jade.”
“I can’t believe he told your husband something that personal, and Ron repeated it.”
Ashley laughed. “Accept it, my man and yours are tight, and I have mad skills in the bedroom.”
“Eew, I don’t want to know,” Faith said, laughing.
“Oh, please, you’re into some kinky stuff too, missy. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the cuffs you brought to my bachelorette party. Maybe you will do the cuffing and throwing away the key.”
“I’m hanging up,” Faith warned.
“Not yet. How come you never told me the two of you hooked up on my wedding day?”
“You were on your honeymoon, and I had no idea Ken and I would be this…” Her heart skipped a beat when he sauntered into the kitchen with a hefty bag in his arms and two extra-large cups of soft drink in a holder. Surely, the whole stint with Deidre wasn’t over already.
“This what?” Ken flashed a smile that turned her insides into jelly.
“Ash, let’s talk later. Bye.” Faith put the phone down, her heart picking up tempo. “How did it go with Deidre?”
Ken placed his offering on the counter and walked to where she stood, loving the way she wore his shirt. He slipped his arms around her waist and brought her flush against him. Instead of answering her, he focused on the conversation he’d interrupted.
“We would be this what?” he asked.
“Great together,” Faith said, looping her arms around his neck.
That was his woman, giving it to him straight without playing games.
“I agree.” He kissed her. She tasted of strawberries and pure decadence. He savored her essence, his hand moving lower to where his shirt and her skin began, and caressed her silken thighs.
She grabbed his wrist and tore her lips away from his, but he already knew. She wasn’t wearing any panties.
“What happened?” she whispered.
“Your cousin threw me out because Deidre was running late.”
Faith frowned. “Running late? That doesn’t sound good.”
“She was stuck in traffic and called. They triangulated the call. She was in the city, not on the run. Don’t worry, Eddie will keep us updated.”
“Okay. Let’s see what you got us.” Giving him a saucy smile, she turned slowly and leaned forward to inspect the contents of the bag. Ken swallowed when his shirt rode up her shapely legs and blood rushed to his groin.
“Cheeseburgers and fries?” she asked, shuddering.
“Don’t mock my first love,” he reprimanded her, and came to stand by her side. “Real men eat beef. It doesn’t matter whether it is steak or burgers. But just in case you weren’t into red meat, I also bought sub sandwiches and shrimp salad.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes lit up when she saw the newspaper, but all she did was push it aside. She offered him the two cheeseburgers and the fries, then dug deeper and fished out the bowl of salad, sat, and crossed her legs. The smile she gave him was slow, as though she knew her movements mesmerized him. “Let’s eat.”
“I don’t know what’s worse; the torture of knowing you are really wearing nothing underneath that shirt or anticipating removing it.”
“I can get rid of the shirt,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.
“You do that, and there’ll be no lunch for you, so behave.” He settled on a stool beside her, unwrapped a burger, and dumped the fries beside it. He grinned when Faith opened the salad, added the dressing and croutons, then retrieved a fork from a drawer instead of using the plastic that came with it and started eating. Grinning, he took a lusty bite of the burger, the tangy juices of the meat mixed with veggies exploding in his mouth. When he looked up, Faith was staring at him with an indulgent smile.
“Want the other one?” he asked.
She shuddered. “No, thanks.”
“What do you have against burgers?”
She chuckled. “I ate too much fast food growing up. Eating out always meant going to some fast food joints, and at home, hot dogs were Nana…my grandmother’s specialty.” Faith smiled. “She added them in macaroni and cheese, in the spaghetti sauce, fried them with rice and noodles. She was good at making every meal an adventure. I grew up believing hot dogs were a staple food until I started school.”
Interesting how different their upbringing was. His mother disliked fast foods, and homeschooling them made it easy for her to monitor their eating habits. “What did she do for a living?”
“Nana took care of me while Mom worked.”
Their previous conversation flashed in his head. “She was a showgirl, right?”
Faith put down her fork, a tiny smile on her lips. “Yeah.”
“Did you ever watch her perform?”
“No, but when my grandmother’s illness got worse and she had to be hospitalized, Mom would take me with her. Dancers weren’t allowed to bring their children, so I’d hide in the back.” Her grin broadened as though reliving those moments. “Everyone was in on it—the other dancers, the costume ladies, the makeup artists. It was like a game, but my mother would have been fired if the manager had found me. The best part was watching the dancers dress up. They looked amazing, but Mom…” Faith shook her head, eyes sparkling. “She really loved what she did and it showed in her eyes, her smile. She wasn’t the star of the show, but she outshined them all.” She laughed self-consciously. “Or I was biased.”
“You loved her.” Totally enthralled by her story, Ken stopped eating.
Faith nodded. “She would have been thrilled I stayed with fashion.”
“So being a designer was always your dream?”
She nodded. “In a way. At first, I watched the dancers and studied their costumes. Later, pretended to be their designer and sketch outfits after I finished with my homework. I’d sneak out of my hiding place while they were on stage and touch their costumes. You could say my interest in fabric started then. I noticed which ones flowed better when they moved, flattered their figures, what they used to make up for different body sizes. The more I learned the more I wanted to know. I drove Gemma crazy.”
“Gemma?”
Faith dropped her chin on the heel of her hand, her expression nostalgic. “Gemma Frost was…is my godmother, if she’d still alive. She made the costumes for the dancers and always watched out for my mother. When my father finally found us, it was Gemma who arranged their wedding.”
“They got married in Vegas?”
“Oh yes. Dad was stationed in Okinawa at the time and was about to leave, so there was no time for an elaborate church wedding. My family is big on weddings.” Another smile lifted the corners of her lips. “My mother was so happy, and my father looked like a prince in his naval uniform. She probably went down in history for having so many bridesmaids. Gemma was the maid of honor and the other dancers were the bridesmaids.” Faith opened one of the straws and pushed it through the opening on the lid of the nearest soft drink. “My father made me believe in fairytales again.”
Yet she was so skittish about relationships now. Ken frowned. What destroyed her belief? “Was the entire Fitzgerald clan in attendance?”
She smiled. “Uncle Aaron, Jade’s father, was Dad’s best man. Actually, Uncle Aaron is the one who tracked us down.” The smile disappeared from her lips. “I didn’t meet the rest of my family until later.”
Something in her voice had him asking, “Were they welcoming?”
“Some were, others weren’t. To be expected, I guess,” she added flippantly, picked up her fork, and went back to eating as though the conversation was over, but the way she gripped the fork told a different story.
Ken finished eating, but curiosity chewed his insides. He waited until Faith finished with her salad before asking, “Who wasn’t welcoming?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now, Ken. I think I’ll have part of that sub.” She removed the sandwich from its wrappe
r and took half of it. Instead of eating, she rearranged the vegetables. That was the first clue that his question bothered her.
“Who was mean to you, Faith?” he asked softly.
She laughed. “What does it matter? It’s in the past.”
The forced laughter was the second clue. “Because I want to know who was insensitive enough to be mean to you when you were vulnerable.”
She made a face. “I wasn’t vulnerable. My life was complete.”
“You had just lost your grandmother.”
Faith blinked then bit her lower lip, her eyes becoming overly bright.
“How did you know?” she whispered.
“You told me your grandmother died after seeing your mother married. Who was it so I can rearrange his face?”
Faith laughed. “You don’t stand a chance against Aunt Viv.”
That name again. He didn’t believe in violence against women, but that woman needed to be knocked down a peg or two. “What did she say?”
Faith sighed. “Ken…”
He took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, you can trust me with anything. Sharing things, no matter how unpleasant, is what relationships are about. Have you ever told anyone about your life before your parents got married?”
She stared at him as though weighing his words, or maybe deciding how much to admit. He wasn’t sure. Just when he reached the conclusion that she wouldn’t respond, Faith shook her head.
Ken smiled. “You just did with me, and I’m happy you trust me enough to share something so personal.” He kissed her knuckles, his gaze not leaving hers. “I want know everything about you. What makes you happy, sad, mad, what gives you this amazing determination to succeed in everything you do, to stay optimistic no matter how hopeless things seem.”
She made a face. “You make me sound like a puzzle you plan to solve.”
“You are special, fascinating,” he said firmly. “Talk to me.”
Faith studied him then reached out and cupped his cheek, a tiny smile playing on her lips. Then she leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his. The touch was a mere whisper yet he knew it represented something monumental, something he couldn’t define. Then she sat back and started talking.
Dangerous Love Page 22