“Extreme sports.”
I sloshed coffee over the edge and onto the countertop. Turning with the dripping coffeepot in my hand, I said, “Extreme what?” I knew what extreme sports were, but that phrase and Fletch did not belong in the same sentence. Ever.
He didn’t notice. His blue eyes sparkled. “It’s going to be great! Lake Elsinore has a gnarly dirt-bike track I thought I’d try out.”
Lake Elisnore did indeed have a dirt-bike track down on the other side of the lake close to the airport. It was a successful venture by a private party. The city leaders for some reason haven’t figured out the absolute gold mine they could have in that area. With Storm Stadium, the lake, the dirt-bike track, and the skydiving airport already there, they could make that area into a sports park playground. I stared at Fletch in his oatmeal-colored pants and silk black shirt and asked, “You ride dirt bikes?” No matter how hard I tried, I could not picture Fletch riding a dirt bike.
The tips of his ears darkened to the color of his freckles. “Well, no, but how hard could it be? Barney’s going to help me, right Barney?”
I pivoted while still holding the coffeepot and looked at Grandpa. “What?! You can’t—”
“I can’t what?” he demanded, his crafty blue eyes shining with laughter.
I narrowed my eyes, then turned back to the counter and finished filling the cups. “All right you two, spill. What schemes have you and Grandpa cooked up?” After grabbing a sponge and wiping the counter, I picked up one filled cup and walked over to hand it to Fletch. “Let’s hear it.”
He took the coffee, then walked to the refrigerator to get out the milk and said, “It’s not a scheme, it’s a spectacular idea. The twin video screens gave me the idea.”
I picked up the other two cups, handed one to Grandpa, and muttered, “I can’t wait to hear this.”
“During my introduction and the finale, the backdrop screens will play videos of me doing spectacular stunts like riding a dirt bike and skydiving. I already have added pyrotechnics to my shows. They are really cool, but this will be awesome. The final touch.”
I nearly choked on my sip of coffee. “Skydiving! Have you lost your mind?”
Fletch flashed his goofy grin filled with big white teeth. “It’s all arranged, Sam. One of the instructors will be holding a camera to catch my jump. It’ll be super! For dirt-bike riding, Barney’s going to videotape me on the dirt track. Oh, and wakeboarding. Barney can tape that from in the boat. I’m going to put it all together in an extreme video to backdrop my magic show!” His light blue eyes practically glowed.
Pyrotechnics, extreme sports…I finally got it. I narrowed my eyes and said, “Fletch Knight, you are trying to impress your father.” His dad constantly belittled Fletch for not picking a manly profession. He thought magicians were sissies. Now if Fletch had played football or shot small furry creatures for sport, his dad would be back-slappin’ proud. Of course, his dad was invited to the show at the House of Cards.
Both of Fletch’s ears turn fiery red. “I am not!”
“You are too! And after the last time, you swore to me you wouldn’t drag Grandpa into your . . . your . . . childish need to impress that Neanderthal!” Fury boiled up hot and ready to blow, both at Fletch and at his father.
Fletch hung his head like a little boy. “I didn’t drag Barney into anything last time. He wanted to join the National Rifle Association. We took the safety classes and learned to shoot properly.”
“You blew up the garage! Did you learn that in your safety classes?” I could still hear the explosion and taste the smoke and gunpowder in my memory.
Grandpa looked up, his blue eyes gleaming. “Sammy, we didn’t blow up the garage. It was just a little fire.”
“The fire department called out a bomb squad!” Was he kidding? I took a gulp of coffee and tried to calm down.
“That was just a precaution”—he waved his free hand through the air—“because the gunpowder we used to pack our own bullets was a little unstable.” His face grew serious as he turned to Fletch. “I never did figure out what we did wrong. The directions off the Internet seemed clear enough.”
Fletch answered, “For one thing, we should have had a fire extinguisher. I always have fire extinguishers when we use pyrotechnics in my act.”
“Stop! Both of you just stop!” I slammed my coffee cup on the counter for emphasis. “No one will need a fire extinguisher! No one is packing bullets. Absolutely no gunpowder! In fact, no guns! Do you two understand me?” I sure hoped that Fletch had professionals handling the fireworks in his shows. He was dangerous around guns and explosives.
“Yes,” Fletch said contritely, and he looked down into his coffee.
“Sure, Sammy,” Grandpa said cheerfully. “No gunpowder. I don’t have a gun anyway. But I have a switchblade.” He turned back to Fletch. “Want to see it?”
Oh God. “No!”
Grandpa frowned at me. “Sam, are you all right? You seem a little uptight.”
I glared at him. “What are you and Fletch up to?”
He set his coffee cup down on the counter. “All we are going to do is go over to that motorcycle place and look at dirt bikes.”
I narrowed my gaze at Grandpa. “You are not riding a dirt bike.”
He laughed. “Not me. Uh-huh. Nope, I wouldn’t do it. But I am going to record videotape of Fletch riding a dirt bike. I’ll wear a helmet while operating the camcorder if it makes you feel any better.”
I gave up. I reached out, snagged my cup of coffee, and downed the last third of the cup. Then I set the cup down and said, “I need to call the office.” I headed for the phone on the wall between the kitchen and dining room. “I should call a babysitter too, but who would babysit two magicians?” I grabbed the phone and dialed the office while watching Grandpa leave the kitchen and go down the hallway to his bedroom. Fletch set his coffee down and walked out too. I heard the hallway bathroom door close.
“Heart Mates Dating Service.”
“Blaine, it’s me. I had a . . . uh . . . situation and had to leave. But I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Situation. Okay, whose body did you find?”
My face tightened in a grimace. “I didn’t find a body.” Given that Grandpa’s gray-haired friends were already out spreading the tale of Grandpa being hauled off to the slammer, it was silly not to just tell Blaine. “Detective Vance needed some information from Grandpa, and I went to the police station to support Grandpa.”
Blaine’s casual voice sharpened. “Information about what?”
Grandpa had headed down the hallway to his bedroom. I debated what I should tell Blaine, then shrugged and said, “Shane Masters accused Grandpa of sending a hit man to kill him.” Then I held my breath while watching Fletch walk back into the kitchen.
The silence stretched for about fifteen seconds. “Have you told Gabe, Boss?”
“No. We only just got home from the police station. And Grandpa doesn’t want me to interfere.”
Blaine snorted.
“What?” I demanded, my back stiffening into a board.
“Yeah, that’s you, Ms. Mind Her Own Business. That’s why everyone in town thinks you are a private investigator. That’s why you keep tripping over dead bodies.”
I winced. “Don’t say anything about bodies! And I’m not the one who tells people I’m a PI.” No, that was my two sons. They were convinced that having a mom who was a PI was way better than a dating service owner. Well, I might have contributed to that by doing a few side jobs for Gabe.
And now I was working with him to get my PI license.
So okay, I might have contributed to the PI rumor, but the dead body crack sent skitters of worry up my spine. Maybe I was a little superstitious, but I didn’t want to tempt fate, especially with my grandpa involved.
“Whatever you say, Boss. It’s not like you stumble into trouble or anything.”
Sarcasm was the price I paid for such a competent assistant.
Office manager. Blaine was the office manager now, of both Heart Mates and Gabe’s PI business. I had to remember that.
“Is everything all right at the office? Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“Nope. It’s quiet here. I thought Gabe would be back by now.”
“He’s not?” I watched as Grandpa came back into the kitchen and refilled his cup of coffee. He held the coffeepot up to Fletch in a silent question.
Blaine answered, “No. And here I was hoping he’d be the kind of boss who actually hung around the office once in a while.”
“Ha-ha. I’ll swing by Gabe’s house on the way back to the office. See you in a bit.” Blaine’s body crack had definitely stirred my superstitions. I wouldn’t interfere with Grandpa, but there was nothing wrong with asking Gabe to sort of check around, right? Just in case Grandpa decided he needed help?
“Later.” Blaine hung up.
I replaced the phone and headed for Grandpa. I kissed his cheek and said, “I have to go by Gabe’s, then to the office. Please be good.”
His smile lit up his face. “I’m a magician, Sammy. I can take care of myself.”
“Maybe,” I agreed lightly, though I meant every word. “But I need you.” I stepped back and looked at Fletch. “You don’t get him into any trouble.”
Fletch reached out and touched my shoulder. “Barney is just helping me do the video backdrop to my show, Sam. Relax. Go to work. Besides, he’s as important to me as he is to you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”
That I believed. Fletch loved Grandpa. Grandpa stayed in contact with most of the magicians he had mentored over the years. They all adored him. But only Fletch got Grandpa into trouble. “Okay, I’m leaving. No gunpowder,” I reminded them. Then I picked my purse up off the table, petted Ali good-bye, and started to leave when I remembered. “Oh!”
Grandpa was halfway to the kitchen table. “What?”
I smiled. “Bo Kelly is here! He came by the office. He said he’ll come by later, and he’s going to cook his jambalaya for dinner.”
Grandpa grinned. “Bo must have good news.”
“He said he did and that he’d tell us tonight. Do you know what it is?” I was really curious.
“Maybe. Now go on, Sam.”
He wasn’t going to tell me. Bummer. Grandpa was like that. He loved gossip, but he was stingy with the secrets of magic or magicians. “I’ll see you later then.” When I got to the door, I said, “And stay out of trouble!”
Once in my car, I turned left onto Grand. After talking to Blaine, I really did want to stop by Gabe’s house. I assumed he was packing up more stuff from his home office to move to the office we were sharing. I wanted to see what he thought about the strange story Shane Masters told the police about Grandpa.
I made a left on Broadway, passing the park that connected to Terra Cotta Middle School. Then I took a right on Outrigger and finally came to Gabe’s one-story house. His big black truck was in the driveway with his desk loaded in the back end. Clearly, Gabe had come home to move his desk.
As I turned into the driveway, I noticed a red truck parked on the street in front of his house. I didn’t recognize the truck, but I imagined it was someone helping Gabe move the desk.
I got out the T-bird and headed around the front of my car and Gabe’s truck, then up the side walk to the front door. I stopped when I heard a thud resonate from somewhere inside the house.
Maybe they were moving something else? Gabe’s home office had a window by the front door, but the blind was closed. I moved up to the door and knocked just as I heard another thunk.
What the hell?
I was sure Gabe didn’t hear my knock. Maybe they were moving a filing cabinet.
Or maybe something was wrong. My mom instincts immediately conjured up an image of Gabe trapped beneath a filing cabinet. That triggered an adrenaline rush, and I reached for the doorknob, turned it, and hurried inside.
A loud grunt came from my left, from the fourth bedroom, which Gabe used as an office. I left the front door open and rushed into the office. It was empty except for an opened box shoved against one wall and two men fighting.
Oh God! Someone was attacking Gabe! They were so intent on one another, they never saw me. They were similar in size and coloring, but Gabe had on a black shirt and the other man had on a blue one. I opened my mouth to yell at them when the man in the blue shirt lunged, knocking Gabe to the ground.
Fear and rage slammed into me. Frantic, but cold with determination to save Gabe, I looked around and spotted the box filled with Gabe’s plaques and pictures. I grabbed the heaviest looking one, dropped my purse, and charged forward. I raised the frame over my head and brought it down hard on the head of the man in the blue shirt.
I heard the loud whack, a crack of glass, then an oomph of expelled air as the man collapsed on top of Gabe.
3
The adrenaline blast still buzzed in my head as I stood looking down at the man collapsed on top of Gabe. But why wasn’t Gabe moving, throwing off his attacker and doing something? I shifted my gaze to Gabe’s face. His eyes were wide with shock, then suddenly those dark eyes crinkled, and he started to laugh.
Huh?
He shoved the man off him. “Get up, Cal. She didn’t hit you that hard.” Then Gabe rolled up to his feet.
Cal? My head spun, and a hot sick feeling blossomed in my stomach. I started backing up. Cal? I knew that name! I had dropped the frame when I hit the man, now all I had to do was grab my purse and run like hell. I reached down to snatch my purse and straightened up.
Gabe stood in front of me, blocking my path to the door. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and there was a gleam of sweat on his face. He raised a single eyebrow. “Why the rush to leave? You just got here.”
“Umm, I forgot something. I have to go!” I tried to get around him.
Gabe shifted to block me. “Not so fast, sugar. I want you to meet someone.”
I glared at him. “Let me by, Gabe.”
“Or?”
He stood there taunting me with that single eyebrow arched up like a red flag. “Get out of my way, Pulizzi!”
He couldn’t hold his expression and broke into laughter again.
“Damn it, Gabe! I thought someone was attacking you! It looked like he was going to hurt you!”
He stopped laughing and snorted. “Fat chance.”
I rolled my eyes and gave up. I turned around and looked at the man watching us. Of course now it made perfect sense why he was similar in build, coloring, and looks to Gabe. He was Gabe’s older brother. “Hi Cal, I’m Sam, and I’m really sorry for hitting you.”
Cal grinned. “You saved my brother’s sorry butt. He should be thanking you.”
Cal had the looks that belonged on a fireman’s calendar, except for the black eye and split lip that was oozing blood. “You’re hurt!” Remorse joined all my other uncomfortable feelings. “God, did I hurt you?”
Gabe put his hand on my shoulder. “You didn’t hurt him, babe. Cal got his ass kicked a couple days ago, but he still has shit for brains.”
Cal’s easy grin fell away. “Shut up, Gabe.”
The tension sucked all the breathable air out of the room. Clearly, Cal had been in a fight. Then he and Gabe were fighting. I stepped aside and put my hands on my hips. “What’s going on here? Why were you two fighting?”
Gabe said, “We weren’t fighting. I was showing him how to take care of himself.”
“Ha. That’s why you needed your girlfriend to run in and save you.” Cal used the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his lip. “By the way, nice job, Sam. My brother’s a lucky guy.”
Since Gabe nearly burst a blood vessel laughing at me, I decided to change the subject from me and my stupid attack. “Don’t do that to your lip.” I tried not to wince. “Let’s go in the kitchen so I can clean it up.” I turned and hurried out of the office. I’d find out from Gabe later what was going on between him and Cal.
I
turned left into a hallway that opened up to a large family room and kitchen. I went directly to the white side by side and opened the freezer to get out an ice cube. I shut the freezer and tore off two paper towels. After getting one wet, I turned around.
Both men stood in the kitchen, watching me with the same amused expression. I looked at Cal. “Go sit down at the table.” I pointed to the table at the end of the kitchen by the door to Gabe’s backyard.
He went. I followed him. Once he was settled, I gently cleaned the blood from his lip. “You almost reopened this whole cut.” The cut was across the left side of his lower lip. It was swelling a little bit.
“It’s fine. Just a small cut.”
I felt Gabe move up behind me and sit down, but I kept my gaze on Cal. His dark eyes were amused. I wondered why he wasn’t mad that I hit him. “How’s your head? Do you want some Tylenol?” I really felt bad, and added, “I’m so sorry, Cal. I just panicked.”
He surprised me by wrapping his arm around my waist and squeezing me. “My head’s fine, Sam. Stop worrying.” He let go of me.
Gabe came from a touchy-feely family. But I was still surprised by the casual sideways hug. “Umm, okay.” I set the bloody paper towel on the table and held out the towel-wrapped ice cube. “Hold this on your lip.”
He took it, and I stepped back. Looking at the two of them, I knew this wasn’t a good time to tell Gabe about Grandpa. But I couldn’t stop worrying that Grandpa could be in trouble. I didn’t know what to do. So I started babbling. “Blaine said you didn’t go back to the office, so I came by here to check on you. Obviously you’re moving your desk. I’ll tell Blaine that everything is fine. Umm, do you know when you’ll get back? It doesn’t matter, he probably has enough guys to help him with the wall. And I’ll be there. Not that I’ll help with the wall, but for like, other stuff.”
Gabe reached out, grasped my hand, and pulled me toward him. “Sam, what’s wrong?”
My knees were flush against his jeans-covered thighs. I looked down at Gabe. “Probably nothing. And you have your brother here. I have to get back to work.”
His eyes darkened, going nearly black. “Sam.”
Thrilled To Death Page 3