by Sammi Carter
Marshall laughed, and the moment was gone. “You’re right. Oh, man, listen to me. I haven’t even thought about that stuff in years. It must have been talking about him at your place yesterday that brought it all back again.”
“In that case,” I said with a small grin, “I offer my most humble apologies.” We reached the front of the store, and I put the cups and saucers on the counter. “So you’re not friendly with Kerry these days?”
“If I were, would I have told you to watch out for him?”
I shook my head and laughed. “No, I guess not,” I said. “What about Ginger?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Silly question, I guess.” I stretched out my hand to ring the bell that would let Ginger know I was ready.
Marshall put his hand over mine and said, “Before you do that, I need to ask you a question.”
With Karen’s warning ringing in my ears, I drew my hand away slowly. “What?”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah. It’s a meal, generally eaten in the evening. I thought it might be nice to eat one together.”
Even with Karen’s prediction, Marshall’s invitation stunned me. Words jammed up in my throat, and it took me a minute to get any of them out of my mouth. “That’s really nice of you, and I appreciate the invitation, but I can’t. I’m . . . seeing someone.”
Marshall’s smile inched a little wider. “I know all about the guy you’re seeing, Abby. I know he doesn’t appreciate you, and I know he doesn’t spend nearly enough time with you.”
“I know it probably looks that way from the outside, but you really can’t tell what’s going on between two people from outward appearances. Jawarski and I are both content with our . . . with the way things are. Really, Marshall, I’m flattered, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He studied my expression for a long time, then shrugged and worked up a smile. From a distance, the smile might have been convincing. Close up, it definitely lost the battle. Maybe because I could see the embarrassment in his eyes. There was something else in his expression, too. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying, I guess.” He glanced over his shoulder, ran a quick look over his watch, and backed a step or two away. “Listen, I’ve gotta—I need to get back to the restaurant.”
“Oh. Sure,” I said with a smile. “Business is always first, right?” I tried again to figure out what that emotion was in the back of his eyes, but again it eluded me. Probably nothing, I told myself firmly. I’d hate to see what would be in my eyes right after someone turned me down for a date. “Listen, Marshall, just because we can’t go out, that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“Right. Friends. That’s good. It’s cool.” He stepped backwards again and the cat, which must have been hiding under a chair, let out a yowl of pain. A flush rushed into Marshall’s face, and he turned away quickly. “I’ll see you around, okay?”
“Absolutely.” I kept smiling until he shut the door behind him, then let out a breath and closed my eyes. I told myself that he’d taken the rejection well, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that look on his face and wondering just what it was I’d missed.
Chapter 26
My conversation with Marshall convinced me that I couldn’t put off talking to Jawarski any longer. Not only did I want to find out if knowing Lou Hobbs’s name had unearthed any new information, but I had a sudden, intense need to make sure he and I were as comfortable with our . . . whatever it was . . . as I’d told Marshall we were.
I put the box holding the cups and saucers in the hatch and stuffed an old sweater and my emergency kit around it to keep the box from sliding. Then, loading Max into the backseat, I turned the Jetta toward town again.
It was mid-afternoon by the time I got there, and the parking lot the police department shared with other city offices was packed. I drove up and down several rows before I found a spot closer to the library than the police station. The weather was mild, but I had no idea how long this conversation would take, and I didn’t want to leave Max cooped up in the car. Hooking him to the chain again, I found a spot where he could lie in the shade or bask in the sun, depending on his mood, then pushed through the glass doors of the white brick building that housed Paradise’s finest.
Since Jawarski and I had started spending more time together I’d become, if not a regular fixture around here, at least not an unexpected one. I waved at the women working dispatch, signed in with the officer working the front desk, and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The detective division is all the way at the back of the building, down a long, brightly lit corridor that stretched from one end of the building to another. That’s why I had no trouble seeing the blonde with the killer body standing just outside Jawarski’s office. I didn’t have any trouble seeing Jawarski either, for that matter. He lounged in the doorway wearing a broad, appreciative smile as he listened to what the blonde was saying.
I’m sure there were at least half a dozen explanations for what I was seeing, every one of them legitimate and non-threatening. I skipped over every one of them and went straight back in time to the night I walked into the bedroom I shared with my then-husband and discovered him on the floor with the reason my marriage had been falling apart.
I stopped halfway down the hall, wanting to turn around and get out of there before Jawarski noticed me, but unable to move. I was rooted to the spot, staring at the very thing I didn’t want to see with the horrid fascination of someone who’s just witnessed an accident.
After what seemed like a very long time, Jawarski looked away from the blonde and noticed me. He said something to her and waved me closer. “Hey there,” he said as the woman turned and walked away. “What are you doing here?”
Angry with myself for my reaction, I moved into his cluttered office, but I couldn’t get out the words I’d come to say. Instead of asking him to grab some dinner at my favorite Thai restaurant, I heard myself say, “I wondered if the information I gave you earlier was of any use.”
His expression closed down, just as I’d known it would, but right then it was easier to deal with him as a cop than as the man I cared way too much about. “You came about the murder?” he asked, his voice stone cold.
I nodded once and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Did the name help you? Could you find anything on either Arthur or Lou Hobbs?”
Jawarski dropped heavily into his chair, but the glare I expected didn’t appear. Instead, he smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. “Not yet, but we’re still pursuing a few angles, trying to find out if he has any other aliases.”
“Do you know where he was staying while he was here in town?”
“If I did, is there a reason I should tell you?”
The question stung, but I wasn’t sure whether I resented it because of the blonde, because of Marshall, or just because Jawarski was being an ass. “You should tell me,” I snapped, “because I may have some information that I can share with you.”
“Really? And what would that be?”
“I have a phone number that Elena Whitehorse from Big Horn Realty used to reach him when she set up appointments for him with Quentin Ingersol.” I’d copied the number onto a piece of scratch paper, and I pulled that out of my pocket now and dropped it on Jawarski’s desk. “If you don’t already know where he was staying, maybe that will help.”
He picked up the note and studied it for a long moment. “How’d you get this?”
“That doesn’t really matter, does it? What matters is that Quentin Ingersol knew Hobbs, but he’s lying about it for some reason.”
His gaze shifted from the paper he held to my face. “And you know that how?”
“I told you I talked to him earlier. He denied knowing Hobbs at all.”
Jawarski let out a sigh heavy with frustration. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”
&
nbsp; “Don’t bother giving me the lecture, because I already know it word for word, and you already know I’m not going to listen anyway.”
He shook his head and ran a hand over the bristle on his head. “What did this Elena Whitehorse tell you?”
“Just that Hobbs was in Quentin’s office more than once, and she called that number when she needed to make an appointment. And she said that she thinks Hobbs made Quentin nervous.”
“Have you tried calling the number yourself?”
I thought about saying no, but he’d see right through me, so why bother? “Yes, and I’m pretty sure it’s a cell. It went straight to voice mail with the factory recording. I don’t have any idea whose phone it is.”
I was trying hard not to be prickly with him, but the mix of emotions churning in my blood made my skin itch. Was I jealous? Feeling guilty? All of the above?
“Is that it?”
I stood and walked to the other side of the room, pretending a sudden interest in a stack of books he had on a table. I didn’t want a guy who flipped out over inconsequential things, and here I was tying myself in knots over something far less threatening than a kiss. The worst part was that I had to finally admit that I felt more than friendship for Jawarski.
Doing my best to keep my voice casual, I asked, “Who was that woman I saw you talking to when I came in?”
“Stephanie?” I could hear the surprise in his voice, the effort he made to follow me onto this new track. “She’s a detective with the narcotics division, why?”
“I’ve just never seen her before,” I said, darting a thin smile over my shoulder. “I wondered if she was a friend or someone you work with.”
“She’s both, but not in the sense I think you mean.” He stood and came toward me, but he stopped before he got too close. “What’s this all about?”
I turned to face him and forced myself to be honest. “I wish I knew. When I saw you talking to her, I felt a whole bunch of things I didn’t want to feel.”
His blue eyes darkened slightly. “You didn’t have to. She’s a friend, and she’s a fellow officer, but that’s it.”
I nodded slowly, trying to work up the words to tell him about Marshall and wondering how I’d explain something I didn’t understand myself. “I know it’s short notice, but I really came by to see if you’re free for dinner. I was going to give you the phone number then.”
“Tonight?”
“If you’re not busy. I was thinking maybe we could grab some Thai at the Lotus Blossom . . . unless something else sounds better.”
“I wish I could,” he said with a frown, “but I’ve already made other plans. How about a rain check? I’m free tomorrow night.”
Whatever I’d seen in Marshall’s face earlier was probably reflected on mine just then. Logic told me that Jawarski wasn’t brushing me off, but all those old insecurities made my stomach ache. “Yeah. Sure. Tomorrow’s great.” Tell him, the voice inside my head whispered, but I convinced myself this wasn’t the right time or the right place. “I have practice until six, so do you want to just meet there at about eight?”
“Eight’s fine.” Jawarski took a look at my face and put a hand on my arm. “What I’ve got going tonight isn’t really important. If you want me to cancel, I will.”
I shook my head quickly, wishing I could appreciate the offer but just feeling a whole lot more guilty. “No, don’t be ridiculous. We can go tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” I snapped. Immediately, I wanted to take the words back, but that’s the thing about words: They last forever. I forced a smile and wished I could crawl into a hole and disappear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get hostile or anything. I’m just a little confused right now, and I’m trying really hard to figure out what I’m feeling.”
“Because of Stephanie?”
It would have been easy to say yes and let it go, but I knew that Jawarski and I wouldn’t stand a chance if I did that. I shook my head and turned to look at him. “Partly, I guess. I’ve spent the past year convincing myself that you and I are friends—good friends, but still just friends. But friends don’t get jealous the way I did when I walked down that hall.”
Jawarski gave that smile that always makes my heart flutter a little. “I’d like to think we’re more than friends, but I know you’re nervous about moving ahead, and I’m not going to pressure you. You know that, don’t you?”
I nodded and felt my courage fail me again. What was wrong with me? Why was I such a coward? “It’s not just that,” I said, pushing through my hesitation. “Marshall Ames came to see me yesterday. He said he was just checking to make sure that I was okay—you know, since we found the body together and everything.”
Jawarski didn’t say a word, he just waited patiently for me to spill my guts.
“Anyway, we talked for a while, and he did what you always do. He told me to stay out of the investigation, warned me about staying safe . . . you know, all that stuff.”
“It’s a lost cause. Should I warn him?”
The joke made me feel even worse. “The bottom line is, he kissed me,” I blurted. “I didn’t expect it to happen, and I didn’t ask for it to happen, but he did, and I thought you should know.”
Jawarski studied my face for an uncomfortably long moment. “Did you kiss him back?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Did you like it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But you’re not sure.”
“No, of course I’m sure. I was shocked, that’s all. I had no idea he felt that way about me.”
“You didn’t? It seemed pretty obvious to me when I saw the two of you together the other night.”
I gaped at him. “The night of the murder?”
Jawarski nodded and perched on the corner of his desk. “The man likes you, Abby. The question is, how do you feel about him? Because I’m perfectly content to be patient and let you figure out how you feel about us, but I’m not going to wait around if there’s another guy in the mix.”
My stomach dropped. Or maybe it was my heart. Something slid to the ground by my feet and left an empty hole inside me. “There’s not another guy in the mix,” I said firmly. “I just told you, I had no idea what he was going to do.”
He dipped his head once. “Fair enough.”
I could feel myself doing what I always do when my back’s to the wall. I got angry. “And don’t sit there looking all morally superior, either. Stephanie would be all over you if you gave her half a chance, and don’t pretend you don’t know it.”
“But the point is,” he said with aggravating calm, “I don’t give her half a chance.”
“Meaning, by implication, that I did give Marshall a chance.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Abby.”
“Don’t imply something and then pretend you didn’t. I’m not the only one who’s confused around here, Jawarski. And I’m not the only one dragging a bunch of baggage around with me. You’re no more sure of what you want us to be than I am, so don’t pretend you are.”
“I know what I want,” he said, his voice low. “But sometimes I wonder about you. Do you really have feelings for me, or are you just interested in what I can tell you about whatever case I’m working on?”
We were standing there, staring at each other and waiting for the other one to look away or say something, when an officer put his head into the room. “Hey, Jawarski, we’ve gotta roll. Got a call about a domestic disturbance down in Swede Alley.”
Jawarski broke, nodded at him, and glanced back at me. “Sorry. We’ll have to finish this later.”
I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or irritated. “Sure,” I said, plunging my hands into my pockets and heading for the door.
“We still on for tomorrow at eight?”
I stopped in the doorway and looked back at him
. “Only if you want to be.”
“I’ll be there.”
And I knew I would be, too. I just wished I could get some idea of how the rest of the conversation was going to play out before I got there.
Chapter 27
At seven o’clock on the dot, I led Max onto the porch of Wyatt and Elizabeth’s house, handed a cellophane-wrapped teacup filled with pastel candies to my sister-in-law and a bottle of wine to my brother. Wyatt grunted, but I couldn’t tell if he appreciated the wine or wished I’d brought beer.
Since Jawarski and I weren’t having dinner tonight, I’d called to see if Wyatt and Elizabeth were free. I didn’t know how seriously to take Marshall’s warning about Kerry Hendrix and his temper, but he wasn’t the only person who’d expressed doubts about Kerry. With all these warnings ringing in my ears, it didn’t seem right to keep my mouth shut while ten innocent boys spent time around someone who might be dangerous.
Elizabeth kissed my cheek and whispered a thank-you for the teacup, and set it on the counter. She bent to take something from the oven. “I’m so glad you agreed to come for dinner. We don’t do this often enough.”
Wyatt put the wine on ice and pulled a beer from the fridge. “You said you had something important to talk about?”
“I do, but I think it would be best to wait to talk about it until after dinner. I’m not sure I want the kids to know until you’ve decided what you want to do. Now, what can I do to help you, Elizabeth?”
She waved away the offer. “Dana and Danielle are going to set the table, and that’s about all that’s left. Just sit down and relax. You want some wine?”
The lack of sleep and the stress of the past week were all starting to catch up with me. “Maybe a Coke,” I said. “I still have to drive home.”
Wyatt found a Coke in the fridge and handed it to me. “If you want to talk about the kids, now’s probably a better time than later. Once they come down for supper, it’ll be a mad-house around here until almost eleven.”