Dead Jolly

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Dead Jolly Page 6

by Boone Brux


  “Can’t remember what?”

  One of his bushy white eyebrows lifted and he peered at me over the rim of his glasses. “Seriously?”

  “Right.” Since it didn’t seem like Fred was going to go super nova on me again, I eased onto the bed. “Okay, let’s break this down. You have unfinished business. Was it with Margaret? Is that why you blew up her store?”

  “Yes.” Though he sounded certain, the wariness in his eyes told me otherwise.

  Proceeding with caution, I said, “Was it the page from your address book? Is that your unfinished business?”

  “Yes.” He hesitated and then added, “Maybe. I can’t remember.”

  “Then, maybe it isn’t that important anymore.”

  He pressed his hand to his chest. “But it feels important here.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. The heart wanted what the heart wanted. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the edge of the paper and pulled it free. I hadn’t taken the time to look at it, but as I unfolded it now, my eyes grew wide. “There’s only one name on here.”

  “Who is it?” he asked, floating closer.

  I held the page out for him to see. “Claire Goucher. It says ‘perfect fit’ next to her name.”

  His eyes lit up. “Claire. Yes, she is my unfinished business.”

  “Wait, my neighbor Claire is your unfinished business?”

  “Yes, she has to be.” He patted his heart again. “I feel it here.” The lovesick way he stared at the page made me want to gag a little.

  “Claire?” I held my arm out over the edge of the bed. “Petite woman, about this tall, sixty-something?” I circled my mouth with my index finger. “Big dark lips and lots of baby-blue eye shadow?”

  “That’s her.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed. “And that bikini she wore. A man doesn’t need Viagra when he has that to come home to.”

  “Claire?” I said again, squinting at Fred. “Claire Goucher?

  “Absolutely. She’s one in a million.”

  To be honest, I didn’t know that much about Claire except what she put on display, and that her husband had died ten years ago. Sure, she flirted with gigolo Don next door, but I hadn’t actually seen her go on a date or entertain any gentlemen callers.

  My arm dropped back to the bed, and my mouth hung open in shock. “So? What happened?”

  “I have no idea, but she must have turned me down. That woman has got sass.”

  Totally confused, I pursed my lips and held out my arms, giving a little shrug. “Mmmmkay, if she’s already turned you down, why is she your unfinished business? Because no means no. You get that, right?”

  He reared back and floated a couple of inches higher, probably so he could peer down his pink nose at me. “Your insinuation that I am anything other than a gentleman is insulting.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Fred,” I gritted out. “But maybe your ghost brain isn’t working again, or have you forgotten about this afternoon’s complete destruction of a gift shop, for which I have been suspended.” I slapped the mattress for emphasis. “Without pay, I might add.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, but that was beyond my control.” Giving a fake cough, he cleared his throat. “And I’ve already apologized for that.”

  “And I appreciate the fact that you did, but you need to stay away from Claire and cross over.” I eased off the bed and inched along the side. “I mean, like right now.”

  A single strand of lightning zipped around his right hand. “Like I said, I’ll cross when I’m ready and not a second before.”

  With that, he evaporated, leaving me standing alone in my bedroom. The thing was, I knew where he was going, and I had the spare key to Claire’s house. Did I use the key and try to handle him on my own or did I call Constantine and let him know where Fred was? I decided to split the difference. As I rummaged around my junk drawer for Claire’s key, I called Nate.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  “Fred was just here.” I scooped a handful of unused batteries and earbud covers to the side to reveal the key. “Found it.”

  “What do you mean he was there?” Nate said, keeping our conversation on track.

  “Was, because now he’s over at my neighbor’s house.”

  “Don or Claire?”

  “Claire, of course.” Clutching the phone under my chin, I dragged on my boots. “Said she was the one that got away.”

  “Pink bikini Claire?”

  “I know, right? I couldn’t believe it either.” I stood and dragged my arm into the sleeve of my coat. “Anyway, I’m headed over there now.”

  “To do what?” Nate might have been crushing on me, but he wasn’t afraid to let me know when I was being dumb. I wasn’t sure if that much honesty in a relationship was healthy. “You can’t reap him in front of Claire.”

  “I know. I know.” I dragged my zipper up. “I’m winging this.”

  “No winging. You’re the worst at winging.”

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence,” I snapped.

  “I’m coming over. Don’t do anything stupid.” When I didn’t answer, he raised his voice to a gentle shout. “Carron, do not go over there alone.”

  “Sorry, you’re breaking up.” I made some static sounds into the receiver. “I’m going through a tunnel. If we get cut off…” I clicked off the phone and dropped it into my pocket. Instantly, it started vibrating against my hip. “Better yet.” I pulled out the phone and set it on the table. “Sorry Nate.”

  Despite ignoring his calls, I knew he was right. I’d had a full half hour of Constantine’s lecturing this afternoon, and now here I was doing the one thing I shouldn’t be doing. Why? If I was being honest, I liked Fred. And after hearing his story, my respect for Claire had increased. Even though we were both widows, I’d never put myself in the same category as her. Maybe because of the age difference, but more likely because I’d never given her circumstances much thought. To me she’d always been my crazy neighbor who traipsed around in a bikini. For the first time, I saw her as a real person. The fact that she’d charmed Anchorage’s number one senior bachelor confirmed there was something pretty special about Claire Goucher. Don’t get me wrong, she was still kind of nutty. Seriously, I’d pay big bucks if she’d just switch to a one-piece.

  Having the brilliant idea to use Claire spare key to get into her house was one thing. Actually doing it was another. Before barging through her front door, I snuck around the side of her house and peered through the window. Damn, her curtains were closed. As quietly as possible, I unlocked her tall wooden gate and tugged. The bottom of the gate plowed through the fresh snow and created a sizeable pile, at which point the gate door stopped. I wedged my arm through the narrow opening, but the door barely budged.

  Shoving my knee through, I jammed my leg into the gap. The snow pile didn’t budge. Leading with my shoulder, I pushed another inch in, but the zipper pocket on my arm hooked the gate latch. I flailed about, twisting around, trying to unlock the latch so I could lift my zipper pull out of the loop, but couldn’t reach. The muscles in my back burned as I arched my arm over my head. Ever so carefully, I eased the zipper up the metal latch.

  “Come on, baby.”

  Just as it reached the top, my right foot slipped forward. With lightning speed, my body plummeted to the ground. My knees hit the edge of the gate, sending jolts of pain through my legs. That was going to leave a bruise. My arm remained caught in the latch. I tried to get my footing, but under the thin layer of snow was a sheet of ice.

  “Mutha farkin mustard flats,” I cursed, as I tried to get my feet back under me.

  And that’s how Nate found me. “You look like a very sad scarecrow.”

  “Very Funny. Could you help me up, please?” My head circled around, trying to look at him, but he stood directly behind me. “I think I yanked my arm out of my socket.”

  In one manly motion, he scooped me off the ground and set me on my feet. When I was stable, he leaned in, his ches
t against my back, and whispered, “Why don’t you ever listen to me?” His breath brushed my ear, sending a giddy tingle through my body. “You know I’m always right.”

  “Not always.” He had me at a disadvantage. Normally, I would have argued with him, but the way he nuzzled my neck and wrapped his arms around my waist made me want to surrender. “Just because you were right once doesn’t mean you’re always right.”

  “It’s been a lot more than once.” His hold slipped away, unfortunately, and he shoved against the door of Claire’s gate. The opening widened another six inches, allowing us to slip into the backyard. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “We should be able to see into her kitchen window from her back porch.”

  “And what exactly is your plan if Fred is inside with Claire?” he asked in a normal speaking tone.

  I stopped and spun to face him, slapping my mitten-clad finger to my lips. “Shhh, are you trying to get us caught?”

  “Oh no, I think you’re doing a good enough job of that on your own.” Even in the dim light of Claire’s Christmas lights I could see the condescension in his stare. “Well?”

  “Well…” Drawing myself up, I squared my shoulders. “I’m winging it.”

  “God, I hate when you say that.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “How about calling Constantine?”

  “And what?” My whisper turned into a frustrated hiss. “Let them charge into Claire’s house and let her see them reap Fred?”

  “Yes.” Clasping my shoulders, he bent and locked gazes with me. “That’s exactly what we should do. That’s what he told you to do. Remember?” He released me and straightened, pointing in the general direction of the GRS building. “When you got your ass handed to you today, Constantine said, and I quote, “You’re suspended for two weeks. If Fred shows up do not engage him. Call me and I’ll send a team.” Then he paused, because Constantine knows you so well, and repeated the whole thing again. Then you signed a letter of reprimand stating that you understood your suspension and its conditions. Do. You. Remember?”

  “Of course, I remember, but if he sends a team, then she’s going to know I’m a grim reaper.”

  He shook his head. “No, she won’t, because you’ll be locked safely away in your house.”

  As much as I hated to admit that he was right, he was. Still, leaving Claire’s situation with some nameless team didn’t feel right. “She’s my neighbor.” I pressed my mittens together in a prayer pose. “Please, Nate, at least let me scope out the situation. If it seems like Fred is going to go ballistic, we’ll call Constantine.”

  A quiet growl rumbled from him, which meant he was about to give in. He didn’t like it, but he was going to help me. “At the first sign of trouble.”

  “Scout’s honor,” I said, holding up my hand. Then I cupped his cheeks and pulled his face to mine. The kiss was quick but filled with gratitude. “Thank you.”

  He growled again. Well, actually it was more of a purr. “You’re going to be the death of me, Carron.” He swooped in for another quick but powerful kiss and then released me. “Go.”

  What Nate didn’t know was that his kisses were my Kryptonite. If he wanted, he could probably get me to do almost anything if he asked while kissing me. No way in hell was I going to tell him that though. Letting him wield that kind of power over me would be pure madness.

  As quietly as possible, which wasn’t actually that quiet, we crept along the back of the house to the porch. The packed snow crunched and groaned with each step, and the cold wood of the porch popped when we climbed onto it. We stopped midstride and listened for movement near the back door. Nothing. The only sound was Claire’s dragonfly wind chimes pinging in the night breeze. Deciding the coast was clear, we skulked toward the house and stood at the edge of the light spilling from the kitchen window. Lace curtains covered most of the glass, making it difficult to see inside. I inched forward and cupped my hands around my face as I pressed it to the window. From what I could tell, the kitchen was empty.

  A movement farther in the dining room caught my attention. I turned my head and smashed my cheek against the cold glass, trying to catch a glimpse. A sliver of red fluttered at the edge of the doorway and then disappeared. I gasped.

  “What?” Nate said directly behind me.

  “I think Fred is in there.” Arching my arm over my head to block out the light, I angled my body for a better view. “I can’t tell for sure.” My entire left side pushed against the glass as I moved my head back and forth, but I couldn’t see. “Damn it. This is so frustrating.” I was so intent on seeing what or who was in the dining room that I didn’t notice Claire enter the kitchen. One second, I was staring into an empty room, and the next her face was directly in front of mine. “Crap!” I jumped backward, running into Nate. “She saw me.”

  “Damn.” He steadied me. “What now?”

  I didn’t have to answer that because the sliding glass door slid open and Claire stuck her head out. “Lisa? Is that you?”

  “Uhhh, yeah, Claire.” Possible lies swirled through my mind as I trudged toward her. “It’s me.”

  “What are you doing out here?” She opened the door wider. “It’s freezing.”

  “I thought I saw somebody creeping around your house, so I decided to investigate.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, so the guilt I felt stayed at an acceptable level. “You haven’t heard or seen anything weird tonight, have you?”

  “No.” She waved me forward, the sleeves of her bright pink robe flapping like wings. “Come in. Come in. You’ll catch your death.” Nate stepped into the light, and Claire’s eyes rounded with delight. “Lisa, who’s your gentleman friend?”

  “This is Nate. I called him to come help me search.” I gestured toward my neighbor. “Nate, Claire.”

  She tugged at the fluffy lapel of the robe and giggled. “It’s so nice to meet one of Lisa’s man friends.”

  One of them? How many man friends did she think I had?

  “Nice to meet you too, Claire.” He actually sounded like he meant it. Then again, Nate had this subtle ability to charm the ladies. I’d seen him beguile several of the women at GRS. Most of them were fifty or older. Actually, all of them were over fifty, except me. He nudged me toward the house. “Would you mind if I took a look inside just to make sure everything is safe?”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t mind.” She waved us both in and shut the door behind us. “It’s been a long time since I had a man take care of me.” Laughter followed in her wake as she floated through the dining room.” I was busy wrapping the last of my Christmas gifts when I heard you slurking around outside.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” My gaze snagged on the pile of red tissue paper sticking out from the side of a shelf. That had been the red I saw, not Fred. “But we need to watch out for each other. Right?”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” She stopped in the middle of her living room. “There are three bedrooms upstairs and my TV room is downstairs.” She gave a tiny gasp. “Oh honey,” Laying her hand on Nate’s arm, she looked up at him with genuine concern. “Could you check out the garage and laundry room. I’d feel a whole lot safer knowing some masher wasn’t lurking in the shadows.”

  “No problem.” The glance he tossed me silently shouted for me to stay put and not do anything stupid.

  Really, he knew me better than that. Constantine’s warning drifted back to me. I squashed the urge to follow Nate to the garage and turned back to Claire. “So, wrapping gifts? Have you got big plans for Christmas?”

  “Actually, I do.” A wide grin split her face and she clapped her hands together. “I’m going to my sister’s house for Christmas dinner.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you anything about my sister, but she’s kind of a basket-case. We haven’t spoken in months.”

  “No, you’ve never said anything about her.” Something niggled at the back of my brain. “But obviou
sly you are now?”

  “Call it a Christmas miracle.” One of her signature high-pitched laughs erupted from her and she lifted her arms in the air like a worshipper at a church revival. “Out of the blue she called me and apologized for being such a hag. Said she’d had a life-changing experience and wanted to set our differences aside.”

  The thing that had been niggling my brain crystalized. “That’s wonderful. Did she happen to say what the life-changing experience was?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Not really. Something about her store blowing up and realizing men shouldn’t come between us.”

  “Store blowing up?” My brow furrowed as I pasted on my best look of concern. “I think I heard about that on the news. Forget Me Not Gift Shop?”

  “Yeah, my sister Margaret owns the store.” Claire tugged the edges of her robe closed, holding it together at her throat. “I’d say I’m sorry about the explosion, but to be honest, I’m really not if it got her to call me and apologize.”

  “What did she mean about men getting in the way?” I knew the answer, but I was curious if Claire did.

  “To be honest, I have no idea. She and Charlie got along fine.” She pressed her fingers to her lips and then held them toward the ceiling. “God rest his soul.”

  Common sense demanded I dropped the subject, so, of course I didn’t. “Never dated the same guy?”

  “Oh no.” Her giant brown eyes bugged out at my suggestion. “We had very different taste in men.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, she prefers suave handsome men, and I prefer…” She paused, pursing her lips in thought. “Well, I prefer my Charlie, but since he’s gone, I prefer to not date, at least not seriously.”

  Hearing Claire mention her loyalty to Charlie sent a jab of guilt through me. I loved Jeff but spending the rest of my life pining for him seemed like self-imposed hell. As if fate wanted to drive the guilt deeper, Nate reappeared in the entry and jogged up the stairs to check out the bedrooms. My eyes zeroed in on his broad back and then drifted to his nicely formed rear end. In the looks department, he scored a solid nine.

 

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