Cooking the Books: A Sloane Templeton Novel (2012)

by Bonnie S. Calhoun

  For once, he didn't look back. He walked out and slammed the door.

  Exhilaration. I rushed to the door and flipped the dead bolt. It locked with a reassuring thud. I paused to feel the safety of the cool, metal lever. Leaning against the door frame, my heart pounded like a war drum. My cheeks puffed out and my lips parted as I exhaled.

  Then the exhilaration evaporated like a snowflake in a rainstorm.

  He gave up awful easy.

  What's coming next?

  An old wives' tale said that a girl always found a man just like her father. Trey sure fit that bill. Mom had tried to warn me. But as hardheaded as I am, I just didn't listen. I knew so much better. Yeah, right. Grandma always said a hard head made for a soft behind. I still haven't understood the logic of that, but whatever. Mom always seemed to feel that no man was good enough for me. She even said that Andreas was no good.

  I sighed and looked heavenward. "If only you had a chance to know Andreas, Mom. You'd have loved him."

  Tap! Tap!

  My stomach clenched. Him again. I bolted away from the door and whirled to face the glass. I could feel my eyes stretched open wide, pulling at my cheeks.

  With his hand raised to knock again, Andreas stood on the other side of the window, grinning sheepishly. A muffled, "Hey lady, let me in," permeated the heavy door.

  Nervous relief mixed with laugher. I unlocked the door. "Speak of the devil."

  Andreas stopped in the doorway and frowned. "What does that mean?"

  I giggled and fanned the air with my hand. "Never mind, silly. Just an old saying. You scared the daylights outta me."

  Andreas strolled into the store, lifted my chin with a gentle hand, and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. His cologne, a gentle blend of spice and moss and mystery enveloped me. I shut my eyes and inhaled the Marc Jacobs scent, drinking in a feeling diametrically opposed to the last ten minutes. A prickle ran up my nose. I directed my face into the crook of my arm and sneezed.

  Andreas looked concerned. "Are you sure this is just sinuses?"

  "Sure." Shaking off the euphoria, I leaned out the doorway and glanced up and down the street. Trey wasn't in sight. Silently I mouthed thank you to the Lord.

  "Are you all right?" Andreas touched his forefinger to my chin and lifted my face again. "You're looking pale."

  He couldn't find out. There was no telling how he'd react. I played with our private joke about my honey complexion.

  "How can you tell?" I winked. A little shiver graced my neck. I shouldn't be lying to Andreas. But it wasn't a lie, just an avoidance.

  Grinning with a wry expression, he lowered his glance while still waiting for an answer.

  I feigned exhaustion. "Nah, just a tiring day."

  Another lie. If I told him about Trey, his temper might get the better of him, and I didn't need a war on my hands. They were both large and powerful men.

  "I've made us a reservation at Cristos, so we have to get going." Andreas tapped his watch as he checked the time. "We have fifteen minutes before we are tardy."

  The tension melted.

  I grinned at his choice of words. "Cristos is only on the next block. We'll make it, Mr. Fussbudget. Besides, I'll need the fast pace to get a head start burning off the calories from the slice of Red Velvet cake I'm going to have for dessert."

  Andreas tilted his head back. "What are you grinning about?"

  My heart squeezed. "You. You make me happy."

  I could relax again, but it nagged at my good mood. How did I tell the man I was dating that an ex-boyfriend is jealous of my being with someone new? And that, unfortunately, this ex headed a street gang, suspected in two neighborhood killings and a disappearance. In my estimation, those facts alone came together to create a perfect storm and a deal breaker. Andreas would run for the hills.

  I grabbed my keys from the tray on my desk, and playfully pushed him out the open door. "Let's go before they give away our table."

  We stepped into the sultry summer evening. The essence of freshly baked bread drifted from Domino's Bakery next door. I inhaled deeply. Mom always said just smelling the delicious carbohydrates made her gain weight. A carb coma was the ultimate happiness.

  Peace enveloped me. Andreas was close by. I felt normal again and safe.

  The sun crawled behind the horizon of the brick-and-stone cityscape. Crimson and orange arrows of color streaked the fading day-blue sky. Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning. Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Mom's old sayings had been rolling into my mind on a regular basis during the last few weeks.

  "So what do you think?"

  Jerked from my thoughts, I turned to look at Andreas. "Excuse me. What?"

  He playfully poked out his bottom lip. I could tell he was only pretending to be hurt. Andreas wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, pressing with the tips of his fingers as he rubbed. "Lady, you haven't been paying attention to a single word I said."

  "I'm sorry, love." I lowered my head to take advantage of his pleasing fingertips. I slowly rolled my head from side to side. "I was thinking of Mom."

  "I understand." Andreas slid his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side as we walked down the busy street. "Have you made any decisions about renting her apartment yet?"

  Sadness stabbed at my peace. I pressed my shoulder closer to Andreas. Even on a sultry evening such as this, feeling his warmth joining with mine, it was a small consolation for my lonely heart. "I can't even bear to go down the front stairs, let alone go into her place. Passing her summer decorations reminds me that it's the last seasonal celebration I'll ever see on her door." I shook my head. "I can't." A lump welled up in my throat. "I've been purposely using the back stairs to avoid it."

  Andreas leaned over and planted his lips on the top of my forehead. "When you're ready, I'll go into the apartment with you. You shouldn't have to face that alone."

  I looked up at him, the sadness washed away by his love. "Thanks for the support."

  "That support works both ways. I feel like I could conquer the world with you at my side."

  "Yeah, I'm sure you could be just fine without me." I scuffed my feet, as though kicking away the thought that had just rolled from my lips.

  Andreas stopped short, and turned to face me. "You have no idea how I feel about you, do you? I need you to make my life feel complete. You are literally the key to my happiness."

  I could feel my face flush, guilty at being self-absorbed. I breathed a nervous laugh. Such heady declarations were more than I expected. "You're being so sweet when I wasn't even paying attention to you."

  "I was asking what you thought about going away with me this weekend. We could go to the Hamptons, lie on the beach, and see the sights. You could use the break. Some distance from here would do you a world of good."

  I groaned. "This weekend? I don't think I have time. I'd need to clear it with Fifi to watch the store. And I've still got that whole file of paperwork to finish for mom's estate. I've been procrastinating for too long. The lawyer is getting antsy."

  A hint of displeasure crossed Andreas's face.

  Oh, no. I didn't want him to think I didn't care about him or his feelings. "How about if we go next weekend?"

  He recovered quickly. "That sounds fine."

  "Are you going to be a gentleman and get us separate rooms?"

  Andreas slid to a stop. He bent from the waist in an exaggerated bow. "Yes, ma'am. Thy wish is my command."

  I burst into laughter, threw my arms around his neck, and drew myself up to his face. I planted a quick kiss on his soft lips and snuggled close to his hulking frame as we continued down the sidewalk.

  We strolled past the outdoor café and crossed to the other side of the street. Its colorful green awning complemented the Mediterranean music, and the ambiance created by the aroma of the fresh-ground coffee. It reminded me that, on the way back, I needed to stop in for another bag of hazelnut grind. I usually bought it on the next block over at the Coffee Bean gourmet cof
fee shop, but the café had a new blend I was dying to try.

  A group of young men congregated in front of the outdoor market on the corner. Several of them leaned against the angular setup of fruit box displays and two were resting against the railing going down to the subway.

  My body tensed. The blue FUBU hoody. The guy leaning against the subway railing chewing on a white, plastic soda straw. Those were Trey's boys. I scanned both sides of the street. Chantel's beauty shop. The Bistro. Charlie's Barbershop. Then I spotted him.

  Trey sat on the flagstone stoop of the café brownstone next to the grocery on South Portland. His elbows rested on his splayed knees, hands clasped together, as he stared at me.

  A wave of panic washed up my spine, gripping at my throat, cutting offmy air. My steps faltered.

  "What's the matter?"

  I glanced at Andreas. Concern marred his handsome face. I feigned a half smile. "It's all right." Sigh. I lied, again. Lord, please don't strike me with lightning. "I was just wondering if I left the lights on."

  My eyes darted between watching the boys while trying to perceive any signals to them from Trey.

  "I thought they were all off when we left."

  "They probably were." I absently answered as I stared across South Portland, fixing my eyes on Trey. My thoughts were running a mile a minute in four directions.

  Trey made an exaggerated wink, pointed his two fingers at his eyes, and then pointed his index finger at me. I'm watching you.

  My knees wobbled. Darts of adrenaline shot down my arms making my hands shake. What were his boys about to do?

  Andreas, with his arm still around my shoulders, led me through the crowd of noisy young men.

  Nothing happened. I was too afraid to glance back. The sheer act of turning might set them off like rabid dogs. Thank you, Father, for your grace and mercy and legion of protective angels.

  I heaved a sigh. I hoped the boys would be gone by the time dinner ended. Why did it feel like eyes were staring a hole in the back of my head? Trey must be watching.

  Andreas kissed the top of my head again. I disengaged myself from his arm.

  We stopped.

  He frowned. "What's the matter?"

  "Nothing. But your arm is tugging on my hair. I don't want to be bald by the time we get to the restaurant." I playfully fistbumped the offending arm.

  Andreas slid his arm around my waist and with a slow, easy movement, pulled me to his chest. The earthiness of his cologne filled my nostrils. I gazed into his eyes. Soft inviting lips brushed across mine. I closed my eyes and drank in the moment. Cologne. Lingering warmth trailing across my mouth. His arms held me protectively. The moment faded.

  Andreas released my waist and continued walking.

  The sounds of the street invaded my space.

  Despite misgivings, I stole a glance back.

  Trey wasn't on the stoop. My eyes darted in the direction of the grocery. The group congregating in front of the market had also disappeared.

  My smile went slack.

  I slid my hand into Andreas's grasp. My steps resounded with the tremble in my knees. Trey wouldn't dare try anything out here on a public street. Would he? Just a dozen more steps. We'd be inside the restaurant.

  My heartbeat counted the footfalls. Please, Lord, let us get inside. Trey, don't be stupid in public.

  Andreas opened the door to Cristos. "Enter, s'il vous plaît, m'lady." He did another exaggerated bow from the waist.

  I burst into laughter, or maybe it was an expenditure of relief. "Okay, a Greek speaking French has got to be an oxymoron."

  I entered the bustling establishment. The immediate gratification of being safe momentarily, mixed with the pungent sauce and grilling meat aromas, created a heady deliciousness that I wanted to savor. My stomach growled in protest.

  Andreas smiled. "Great, now you're calling me a moron."

  I elbowed him playfully. "Tsk, tsk, you silly man."

  I stole one last glance through the glass doors behind us. Was it all in my head or was I actually hearing the theme music from Jaws?

  10

  I PERCHED ON THE EDGE OF MY BED FINGERING THE THICK CREAM-COLORED patchwork quilt that Mom made for me last Christmas. The morning sun streamed through the wall of glass, warming my fourth-floor bedroom and causing visible heat ripples to rise from the polished wood floor. Regardless of the ninety-degree summer heat, I kept the quilt on my bed as a security blanket.

  My hand moved across the stitches, tracing the patterns as I stared at the polished oak-trimmed circular staircase on the other side of the wide room, twirling down through the floor into the rest of my apartment on the third floor. I felt stupid. I half expected Mom to poke her head up to announce that the coffee was on.

  It was our own mother-daughter ritual. She would come up from her second-floor apartment every morning using the circular stairway connecting our living rooms. My apartment consisted of the third and fourth floors of our building. She'd put on the coffee and use the other circular stairway in my kitchen to stick her head up here and wake me up. It was the sweetest alarm clock I'd ever had.

  The stairs. A stark reminder of what was lost. I didn't want to look, but it was the focal point from this position on the bed. The only other thing to see on this floor was the blank wall with a singular door in it, beyond my walk-in closet and bathroom. A storage area from years gone by. My chest tightened. I needed something . . . anything to cover the stairs.

  My glance trailed to the oak dresser. I hopped off the bed and hurried to the five-foot-tall dresser against the wall near the bathroom. All the furniture had been fitted with wheels at Mom's insistence, so as not to mar the floors when moving them for cleaning. I rolled the dresser in front of the stairs then hurried back to my perch on the bed.

  My lip quivered. The view was changed. But I didn't want the view to change. It had served me well for a long time. Why hadn't I come home sooner? I'd have had more time with her. A tear slid down my cheek. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat as my eyes glanced heavenward. "Mom, I need you. You were my rock. You always tried to keep me straight."

  I brushed away the tear with the back of my hand as I expelled a huge breath of air. This is my new fate, so get used to it, chickypoo.

  A voice inside my head said, "Put on your big girl panties and get on with life." Sigh. I hear you, Mom. I slid off the bed again.

  You'd like my new man, Mom. I done good this time. Unfortunately, Mom and Andreas had only met a couple of times and Mom wasn't especially enthused with him. He's a wonderful, sweet, loving man. He'll be my protector. Yeah, my wonderful protector is going to be MIA today. He's swamped with work.

  I trudged down the circular stairs to the kitchen. My fingers wrapped around the handle of the coffeemaker carafe before I caught myself. I snatched my hand back. Morning coffee was a ritual I'd always enjoyed with Mom. I was better. For a few weeks I couldn't even stand to stay in the kitchen. But I still couldn't bring myself to make coffee alone.

  I turned my back to the counter and glanced down at my watch. Seven a.m. Fifi wouldn't have the store open yet. The coffee wouldn't be on until about nine, especially if that lonely woman comes in again today to help. I had to go down the street to Bebe's to get my hair done so I didn't have to take any more fashionista abuse from Fifi or Verlene, and braids were going to take quite a few hours. Maybe I could get coffee at Bebe's.

  I grabbed my cell phone from the charger in the TV bookcase and the green folder of estate paperwork off the coffee table. The stupid paperwork. I kept hemming and hawing with Mom's lawyer and I hadn't finished going through it all yet. Maybe today. I could drop it off at the store before I went down the street. My hand automatically reached for the front doorknob. A shiver zipped up my spine. My fingers held onto the cool metal knob as though welded. My heart pounded against my ribcage. It felt like it was beating hard enough to break a rib.

  I chomped down on my lip so hard I expected to taste blood. Unable to move, my knee
s wobbled. My fingers willed themselves loose of the burnished metal doorknob. My hand fell to my side. I still couldn't do it. I couldn't go down those front steps past Mom's apartment door. I could barely stand to look at the staircase on the other wall that circled down into her apartment. We used to joke that we could hole up in the building for months without needing to go outside our apartments to see each other.

  How strange that the last time I'd seen her was in the hallway. Correction . . . the last time I had seen Mom's body was on a gurney, in one of those black plastic bags. It felt so wrong, like they were just carrying away a trash bag. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought.

  She was already dead when I found her. Died of a heart attack. But Mom was young by today's standards. Fifty-five was not old. That didn't matter now. She was gone. I still couldn't face those stairs. I'm not that strong . . . yet.

  I set my jaw and turned in the other direction.

  Walking through the apartment to the back door in the kitchen, I checked my pockets. Keys were there. The gun. I'd left it downstairs when I went to dinner last night with Andreas. Just thinking of him kept me grounded to the present. The euphoria was like a teenage experience. The giddiness. Don't be silly. I pulled the door shut behind me and floated down the stairs on a cloud. Ugh! To be that young and innocent again.

  The light-blue car was next to the Dumpster again.

  I glanced inside as I passed. Today it was empty.

  11

  BEBE'S BEAUTY SHOP SAT SIX DOORS UP ON THE SAME SIDE OF THE STREET as the bookstore. It took all of five minutes to walk there, so it was not enough time for me to have a logical change of heart about letting a Hungarian kid who thought he was the epitome of the Rolling Stones crank on my head.

  I opened the frosted-glass door to the shop. I had not expected instant musical assault at seven in the morning. Inside was the same crew, just a different day. A bunch of twenty-somethings who thought they had the world all figured out.

  I nodded at Marley Howard and Janelle Wilson sitting in the waiting area. Both had on microminis, loud sparkly tops, and heels that came out of one of those sleazy catalogs and had the ability to stab you clear through to the heart. These were the night people on their way home, but at the moment they were reading magazines and waiting their turns. That thought caused me to take note that all of the ladies here now, and I use that term loosely, were of the nightly persuasion. I made a mental note to make my next appointment later in the afternoon when more of my normal friends were scheduled.