Maybe I was more of a Scooby Doo than a Nancy Drew.
I had to decide what to do with the rest of my day. I opened the guestbook I’d filched. I‘d only come up with a few suspects—Rachel-Ann, Kaz Davis, Brant Jenson, Sonny Damone, and Damon McCormick. I believed Sonny Damone was Jim’s friend. I didn’t think he was the killer. Even with her new-found wealth, Rachel-Ann lost more than she gained by killing her husband. I didn’t think Kaz had the brains. So I was left with Brant and Damon.
Damon was stealing from the company; he’d framed his boss. He could’ve kept an extra set of keys, he’d had the means to dispose of the boat, and maybe he was digging up all the down and dirties on Jim. Jim might have figured out who set him up.
Brant benefited directly from Jim’s death. He got Rachel-Ann, if I counted Rachel-Ann as a benefit. Brant could’ve done it all for love.
The phone caught me off guard. I checked the caller ID, noted the number, and searched my desk drawer for the ‘equipment’ I needed. Mike Sedgewick was on the line and he required props. Mike was a looner.
Some girls are amused by the S&M clown thing, but that particular fetish is just a little too creepy for me. Along with my lack of skill at the whole “spank me” thing, I’ve been to one too many Halloween Horror Nights to think clowns are anything but crypt-kickin’ evil.
Other girls giggle over the giantess thing, but I kinda get it. I’ve seen Attack of the Fifty-Foot Woman; a tall pissed-off woman in a fur bikini probably does it for a lot of guys.
Looners are the ones who make me giggle.
Looners are balloon boys. Nothing makes them jollier than hearing a girl blow up balloons, smacking and squeaking the rubber against skin, and then popping them at the moment of maximum pleasure. It wasn’t about Peyton at all. Mike could care less if I said anything. He just wants to hear the blowing, the squeaking, and the popping. I thought maybe Mike was one in a million, that maybe something wild and unusual had happened at a Chucky Cheese birthday party and he’d never been able to get it out of his head. Mike’s not alone. There are Looner sites all over the internet. You just have to look. The fact that I did the extracurricular research says worlds about my sense of professionalism. That was why I couldn’t quit Drewin’.
After I helped Mike “burst” his own balloon, another call rang through right away. I checked the caller ID.
Diaz, Ricardo.
My heart started pounding and not in the-man-who-can-cause-me-to-heat-up-like-the-heat-of—a-thousand-suns-is-on-the-phone way. It was in a shit-it’s-the-cops sort of way.
I decided to be cool. The best response would be a casual one. If I didn’t act like a suspect, there’d be no need for him to treat me like one. At least that was what I thought.
“Hey, Rick.” I sounded way too perky. Cool never works for me.
“Hi, Emily.” He was quiet for a second, like he was thinking of what to say. “I missed you in class today.”
What did that mean? Did he just happen to notice I was gone? Was he concerned about me, wondering where I was? Did he save my seat? My girl hormones were in overdrive.
“Yeah, I had a few things to do. I lost track of time.”
“I was hoping maybe we could meet for lunch. I want to talk to you and I’ll bring my notes, if you want them.”
“Sure. That sounds good.” I didn’t want his notes. I read the chapters, and his notes were never any good.
“How about we meet at Applebee’s?”
He seemed embarrassed by the Applebee’s thing. He shouldn’t have been because their steak Caesar salad was almost as good as Craig’s Teriyaki chicken salad. Maybe I’m just a goon for the Caesar. “That sounds great. I’ll meet you there.”
“Twenty minutes?”
Before I was off the phone, I had my head in the closet. Why did my would-be assassin have to ruin my good jeans? I went with the best I had and topped them off with a low-cut, embroidered tunic. One thing I knew about Rick. He liked the twins. Busting out the girls would serve as a pleasant reminder of the all-night kissfest we had on his couch. And they might get me a little compassion if I was dealing with Detective Diaz. Either way, a little cleavage could go a long way.
I checked the mirror and did a little touch-up. My scrapes weren’t bad, but there was no hiding them. Any attempt to do so would make me look like an aging actress clinging to her Broadway dreams.
Is there anything worse than meeting someone in a soon-to-be crowded restaurant? Naturally, I got there before Rick. He was probably still in front of the mirror making sure he was absolute perfection before he got there. His dark and smoldering hotness was going to trump my cleavage in a big way.
The hostess seated me at the “tall” table area next to the bar. I hated that. I felt like I was sitting in a high chair.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait too long. I was right, too. He was dark and smoldering. My cleavage was going to mean nothing. He was only wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, but he had a way of working it.
He leaned in to kiss my cheek and stopped dead when he saw my Franken marks. “What happened to you?”
Was I really that grotesque?
“I fell and got a little scraped up.”
“A little?”
“Do I look like Quasimodo?” I couldn’t help the simpery little whine in my voice. I had convinced myself that I wasn’t a monster.
Rick kissed my forehead. “It’s not bad. It’s just I thought it might hurt if I kissed you there.”
Hadn’t he heard of kissing it and making it better?
“It’s nice to see you.” My brilliant mind couldn’t come up with anything else. It was too busy reeling from the kiss.
He sat across from me and gave my hand a squeeze. “I was thinking the same thing. All the booths gone?”
I giggled internally. Rick didn’t like high tables either.
Before I could say anything, our server bounded up. “Hi! My name is Chris! I’ll be your server today! Can I get you something to drink while you decide?” Chris was obviously very excited to be part of the Applebee’s family.
“I’ll have iced tea.”
Rick nodded; we were on the same wave length. “Me, too.”
He was still holding my hand. In fact he was rubbing my hand with his thumb. If it weren’t for the fact that he was a cop and I might be a murder suspect, I’d have taken it as a sign of affection.
“So here we are.”
He let go of my hand and nodded. “Yeah. I should take a look at the menu real quick before Chris gets back. Do you know what you want?”
“I love their steak Caesar salad.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you really like salad? I’ve only seen you eat lasagna and some kind of salad.”
“I love Caesar salad, and you know the dressing makes it a big fat meal. Not diet at all.”
He smiled. “All the same, next time we go out, maybe you could eat something that isn’t on a bed of lettuce. Do you like seafood?”
“Long John Silver’s is my favorite restaurant in the world.” When he laughed, I decided not to tell him I wasn’t kidding. Nothing is better than their batter-dipped shrimp with the little crunchies.
Chris was back with our drinks and was ready to take our order. The place was starting to fill up.
“I’ll have the three-course meal. Mozzarella sticks, cheeseburger, and…” He looked up at me. “I’ll get a dessert; we can split it. What do you like, key lime pie, strawberry cheesecake, or chocolate mousse?”
I looked at the dessert list. “Strawberry cheesecake.” On my own, I would have been all over the chocolate mousse, but with Mr. Dark and Smoldering, no way. It had Oreos in it, and I wasn’t risking black tooth.
Chris turned her bright eyes to me. “What would you like?”
“Steak Caesar Salad — and I’d like the steak rare, rare, rare.” I’ve discovered the key to getting a truly good rare steak exactly the way I want it, was to say rare three times so they know you’re serious. Otherwise
you get pink, and I have no use for that.
“Cool and red in the middle?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I closed my menu to find Rick staring at me.
“You want blood-rare steak on your salad?”
“Yeah.”
He handed Chris his menu. “If you can, bring me a little screen. I don’t want to see that.”
Chris’s head bounced up and down in agreement. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He watched her walk away, and then he turned back to me. “I’m really glad you came today. I was worried you wouldn’t.”
“I was glad you called. I was surprised, though.”
“Emily, I found out about your job when the guys I work with chased down a toll-free number in a murder victim’s calendar. When I saw your name and number, I knew they were going to bring you in for questioning.”
“I was really a suspect?”
“More like a person of interest. You didn’t have a reason to kill him, did you?”
Of course I did. Everyone who came in contact with Jim had a reason to kill him.
I shrugged the comment off and prayed he didn’t see my pulse throbbing in my throat. “Nope, not me.”
“I would’ve handled the news better coming from you.”
“I know. I should have told you. If it means anything, I really wanted to. I didn’t want to keep it from you. I liked you a lot, and I thought if knew, maybe you wouldn’t want to see me again. I wasn’t ready for that. I liked being with you.”
“I like being with you too, Emily. I have a good idea of who you are. Part of me understands why you have this job. There’s money in it. I’ve been thinking about it, and I can deal with you doing the phone thing. It’s a small part of your life, but that’s not the girl I know. It’s just…” He sighed. “Look, I care about you. A lot. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“It’s just a phone thing Rick. Nothing can happen to me.”
Other than getting involved in a murder and nearly killed twice.
“Yeah, it can. Something can happen to you. I think you’re special. I like how you look at the world. If you keep working on the phone, talking about the things you talk about, I worry you’ll get jaded. You’ll think every man out there has a deal or wants something slimy from you. I don’t want you to look at the world like that, and I really don’t want you to look at me that way.”
My eyes started brimming with tears. I understood exactly where he was coming from. I hadn’t been taking calls long, but it was changing me a little inside. I felt what he was saying. Sometimes, I would see a perfectly innocent guy and wonder exactly what his perversion was. There had to be one. They all wanted something. There were days when I cringed when the phone rang. Sometimes, even on the most basic of calls, I would find myself rolling my eyes and get queasy. It was already starting to trickle into my real life.
I didn’t want to feel that way about Rick.
He saw my wet eyes. “What did I say?”
I shook my head and wiped my eyes. “It’s nothing. I’m good.”
He continued. “When you’re with me, no matter what we’re doing, I don’t want you to think there’s an ulterior motive. I don’t want you to question why I’m there or what I might have up my sleeve. I’m afraid you’ll start seeing me as one of those guys.”
Chris bounded back to us, barely keeping her serving tray steady. “Here you go. Iced teas and cheese sticks. I’ll be back with your orders soon.”
Rick pushed the cheese sticks towards me “Have one.”
Easier said than done. I thought about declining, but that would only make me look obsessed with dieting. I didn’t want him to think I was just a grazer. I should take him up on the offer. After all, it was just one. With me, there was never just one. Somehow the whole platter always disappeared. I would say it was magic, but there always seemed to be a bit of incriminating sauce on my shirt. Could I have just one?
“Sure.” I picked up my cheese stick, and dipped it.
It was heaven.
I’ve always felt cheese sticks were the way to world peace. If all the world leaders would just sit down to a few plates of fried mozzarella, the world would be a better place.
To keep my focus off the plate of breaded goodness, I concentrated on Rick. “I don’t think you’re one of those guys.”
“You don’t think that now, but who knows, if things progress, and you keep working…”
“Your reasons for not telling me you’re a cop aren’t that different from my reasons for keeping the phone thing a secret.”
“Detective.”
I could feel my ears physically turning in his direction so I could pick up every word. “Sorry, Detective. Are you the Hardy-Boy kind, like you’re in a rock band at night?”
“No, the police kind. Like Columbo, only I’m better-dressed and less annoying.”
“Columbo was always truthful, at least about being a cop.”
“I didn’t tell you because some girls don’t like cops.”
“So you wanted me to get to know you before you popped the whole I’m-the-law thing on me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That sounds so familiar.”
“I know.” He said it slowly and over-pronounced the words in a way that made me laugh.
Chris came over with our lunches and placed my salad in front of me. “I made sure it was really, really, rare.”
Rick looked at my salad and winced. “Do you actually like it that rare?”
I was used to people commenting on the rareness of my steak. Instead of answering, I popped a piece in my mouth, closed my eyes, and sighed heavily like I was in love.
He laughed. “Emily, I think you might be a bit of a ham.”
I liked making him laugh. I could live with being a ham, but I really wanted to know about being a suspect. “So a person of interest? What does that mean exactly?”
“It means the police were interested in having your answers to a few questions.”
“Am I still a person of interest?”
“With me, yes. The cops, not so much.”
Okay, here was my in. “So can you tell me what’s going on with the investigation? Or is it top secret cop stuff?”
“It would fall under top secret stuff if I knew anything. But—funny thing—when your girlfriend’s name pops up in an investigation, they don’t tell you too much about what’s going on.”
Did he say girlfriend? I was his girlfriend? It was all I could do to keep myself from shoving my plate to the side and going all Lord of the Dance on the table.
Thankfully, I was able to restrain myself. “What’s up with taking a history class?”
“I’m working at getting into law school. I have to take a few general classes.”
“I’ve got your dessert right here.” Chris put the cheesecake in front of Rick. She seemed a little out of breath; I looked around, the place was packed.
“You look busy.”
She blew her bangs up with an exasperated breath. “It’s always crazy here at lunch. Is there anything else you guys need?”
Rick looked at me. “Do you want anything else?”
“I’m set.”
“Just the check then.” Chris left us, and Rick motioned me over to the chair next to him. “It’s easier to share if you’re closer.”
He offered me a fork and watched me take a bit of cheesecake. “I was thinking maybe you and I could do something special this weekend.”
That made my stomach jumpy in the happiest of ways. “What kind of special?”
“Do you like surprises?”
“Sometimes. It depends on the surprise.”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
“Okay.”
Chris came back with the check, Rick pulled out his credit card as I made a feeble attempt to open my wallet. I’d expected him to pay, but I wanted to at least appear like I was willing to pony up my share. He waited for her to disappear, and then took my ha
nd. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven. Now that we know each other’s secrets, it’ll be like a fresh start for us.”
Only we weren’t being honest, were we? Rick was, but not me. I was still lying. It was time he knew what was going on with my investigation. I was going to come clean on everything. “Rick, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Damn! Chris was back. “Here you go! Have a nice day!”
Rick signed the receipt, passed it back to her, and stood up. “What were you saying?”
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
He looked down at his watch. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Are you going to be late?”
He nodded. “Yes, but if you have something to tell me…”
I got up from our table. “I don’t want to get you in trouble; we can talk about it tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
Nothing was going to change between now and then, and I didn’t want him to get in trouble. The police department might have strict tardiness policies. “Yeah, tomorrow will be fine.”
He took my hand, and we walked out of Applebee’s and into the parking lot. “Emily, about the guy you were kissing.”
“I didn’t kiss him; he kissed me.” Then I did what Peyton would have wanted me to do. I put my arms around Rick’s neck and kissed him, and I included just a hint of tongue.
He looked surprised and a little happy. I felt daring and did it again. “That’s what it is like when I kiss someone.” Of course, Peyton would have taken further, but for me, it was a brave move.
He waited while I unlocked the door and shut it for me once I was inside. I watched in my rearview mirror as he got inside his car.
I giggled with excitement. A surprise? It was going to be romantic. Rick was just too dreamy not to come up with something spectacular.
I started the car and headed home. Even though I hadn’t given him my big reveal, knowing I was going to had lifted something off my shoulders. I could tell him what was going on with Brant, give him the jump drive I’d stolen from Damon, and persuade him to talk to whoever was in charge of Jim’s case into giving me an exclusive on the story in exchange for the information I had. Even if they didn’t, I had a pretty good story.
Phone Kitten: A Cozy, Romantic, and Highly Humorous Mystery Page 23