Mystery Man

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Mystery Man Page 11

by Diana Palmer


  “I don’t mind,” Janine said with a wan smile. “I’ll be glad to.”

  “Thank you!” The young nurse laid the book on the bedside table, flushing. “It’s a pleasure. I mean it. I just think you’re wonderful! I hope you get better very soon. Thank you again. I really appreciate it. Gosh, you look just like I pictured you!”

  She rushed out the door, going off duty, with stars in her eyes. Janine looked toward the door with painful realization.

  “So you know,” she said without looking at him.

  “You could have told me. You knew I read your books. I had Catacomb on the side table at my party.”

  “I knew. Karie told Kurt that you read my books.” She studied her hands. “You’d said that you hated famous women, authoresses and actresses.” She shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you after that.”

  He didn’t speak. His eyes were stormy.

  “Did the nurse tell you?”

  “No,” he said, surprising her into looking up. “Kurt spilled the beans. He was upset. He said that you got into the worst scrapes because you thought you were your own heroine. I asked what he meant, and Karie said you were acting like Diane Woody.” He took a slow breath. “It wasn’t much of a jump after that. The nurse had brought your book with her to read on her breaks. She saw you and recognized you at once when they brought you onto her ward.”

  “A conspiracy.”

  He laughed without humor. “Of a sort. Fate.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The man who’d taken such exquisite, tender care of her now seemed to want nothing more to do with her. She was sorry that he’d had to find it out the hard way. But they had more immediate problems than her discovered identity.

  “What about the men who kidnapped me?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “They’re being hunted” was all he had to say.

  “They weren’t after my parents at all,” she remarked after a long silence. “But I’m sorry they’re trying to take Karie.”

  “I’ve put on some extra security.”

  “Good idea.”

  He was still glaring in her direction. “Kurt told me what you did.”

  “I have a bad habit of rushing in headfirst,” she said.

  “You thought the man had a gun aimed at me,” he continued relentlessly.

  She cleared her throat. “It looked like it. It was probably a pair of binoculars, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  “So instead of yelling for help, you rushed him. Brilliant!”

  She blushed. “You could be dead instead of yelling at me!”

  “So could you!” he raged, losing his temper. “Are you a complete loon?”

  “Don’t you call me names!”

  He went toward her and she picked up the nearest thing to hand, a plastic jug full of ice, ready to heave.

  He stopped and her hand steadied.

  Into the standoff came Kurt and Karie, stopping in the doorway at once when they realized what was going on.

  “He’s the good guy,” Kurt said pointedly.

  “That’s what you think!” she retorted, wide-eyed and furious.

  “Put the jug down,” Kurt entreated, moving to her side. “You’re in no condition to fight.”

  He took the jug away from her.

  “The voice of reason,” she muttered as she gave it to him.

  “The still, small voice of reason,” he agreed with a grin. “Feeling better?”

  “I was,” she said darkly, glaring toward Canton.

  His expression wasn’t readable at all. “I have some things to do,” he said. “I’ll leave Kurt here with you for the time being.”

  “When can I go home?” she asked stiffly.

  “Later today, if there are no complications.”

  “I have to have someone translate for me, about insurance and so forth.”

  “The nurses speak English,” he stated. “So do the people in the front office.”

  “Fine.”

  He gave her one last, long look and motioned to his daughter. He didn’t say goodbye, get well, so long, or anything conventional. He just left with Karie.

  “It’s my fault,” Kurt said miserably. “I spilled the beans.”

  “It was inevitable that someone would,” she reassured him. “No harm done. A millionaire and a writer are a poor combination at best.”

  “He isn’t a millionaire.”

  “He will be, again. I don’t move in those circles. I never did.”

  “He stayed in here all night,” he said.

  She shrugged. “He felt responsible for me, I suppose. That was kind of him.” She squared her shoulders. “But I can take care of myself now.” She glanced at him. “You didn’t try to contact Mom and Dad about this?” she asked with concern.

  He shook his head. “We thought we’d wait.”

  “Thank God!” She sat up. Her head still throbbed. She lay back down against the pillow with a rough sigh. “I wonder what he hit me with,” she said. “It must have been something heavy.”

  “The doctor said it was a light concussion and you were lucky. From now on, let the police do hero stuff, okay?”

  She chuckled. “I suppose I’d better.”

  She stayed one more night in the hospital, this time with Kurt for company. The next morning, she did all the necessary paperwork and checked herself out early.

  They went back to the beach house in a cab, arriving just as Canton Rourke and his daughter were getting into their rental car.

  She paid the cabdriver, being careful not to look at Canton. It did no good. He came storming across the sandy expanse with fierce anger in his lean face.

  “Just what the hell are you doing home?” he demanded. “I was on my way to the hospital to get you.”

  “How was I to know that?” she asked belligerently. She was still pale and wobbly, despite her determination to come home. “You left with no apparent intention of returning. I can take care of myself.”

  He looked vaguely guilty. His eyes went to Karie. He motioned her back into the house. She waved and obeyed.

  “I’ll go talk to Karie while you two argue,” Kurt said helpfully, grinning irrepressibly as he ambled toward Karie’s house.

  “Everybody’s deserting me,” she muttered, turning toward the house, purse in hand. Kurt had asked Canton to bring it to the hospital the morning after Janine had regained consciousness, and he had. The money had been a godsend, because she had to get a cab to the house.

  “I wouldn’t have, if you’d leveled with me from the beginning. I hate being lied to.”

  She turned on him. “You have no right to ask questions about me. You’re not a member of my family or even a close friend. What makes you think I owe you the story of my life?”

  He looked taken aback. His shoulders moved under the thin fabric of his gray jacket. “I don’t know. But you do. I want to know everything about you,” he said surprisingly.

  “Why bother to find out?” she asked. “I’ll be gone in less than a month, and we’re not likely to run into each other again. I don’t move in your circles. I may be slightly famous, but I’m not a millionaire, nor likely to be. I keep to myself. I’m not a social animal.”

  “I know.” He smiled gently. “You don’t like crowds, or life in the fast lane. Marie did. She felt dead without noise and parties. She liked to go out, I liked to stay home.” He shrugged. “We were exact opposites.” His blue eyes narrowed. “On the other hand, you and I have almost too much in common.”

  “I’ve already told you, I’m not going to propose to you,” she said solemnly. “I like being independent. You need to find a nice, quiet, loving woman to cook you scrambled eggs while you’re fighting your way back up the corporate ladder. Someone who likes being yelled at,” she added helpfully.

  “I didn’t yell.”

  “Yes, you did,” she countered.

  “If I did, you deserved it,” he returned shortly. “Running after armed felons, f
or God’s sake! What were you thinking?”

  “That I was going to make a citizen’s arrest, for one thing.” She searched his lean face. “You say you’ve read my books. Didn’t you read the book jackets?”

  “Of course,” he muttered.

  “Then tell me what I did for a living before I started writing novels.”

  He had to think for a minute. He frowned. His eyes widened and dilated. “For God’s sake! I thought that was hype.”

  “It was not,” she replied. “I was a card-carrying private detective. I’m still licensed to carry a weapon, although I don’t, and I haven’t forgotten one single thing I know about law enforcement.”

  “That’s how you learned the martial arts.”

  She nodded. “And how to approach a felon, and how to track a suspect. I was doing just fine until the would-be kidnapper pointed a gun at you and I did something stupid. I rushed right in without thinking.”

  “And it almost got you killed,” he added.

  “A miss is as good as a mile. Thank God I have a hard head.”

  He nodded. He touched her hair gently. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

  She shrugged.

  “I mean it,” he stated with a smile.

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  She was a world away from him now. He wasn’t sure that he could breach the distance, but he had thought of a way to try. “Are you still a licensed private investigator?”

  She nodded.

  “Then why don’t you come to work for me and help me crack this case?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m on a deadline,” she said pointedly.

  “You can’t work all the time.”

  She considered it. It was exciting to chase a perpetrator. But more important than the thrill of the chase was to prevent someone from taking Karie away. Just thinking about that blow on the head made her furious. They’d thought she was Karie and they had no qualms about hurting her physically. They needed to be stopped, before they did something to harm the child.

  “I’ll do it,” she said.

  He grinned. “I can’t pay you just yet. But I’ll give you a pocketful of I.O.U.s. I promise they’ll be redeemable one day.”

  She chuckled. “I believe it. Okay. That’s a deal, then. But I’ll need a couple of days to rest up.” She touched the back of her head. “I’ve still got a huge bump.”

  “No wonder,” he muttered, glowering at her. “You are a nut.”

  “Hiring me doesn’t entitle you to call me names,” she declared.

  He held up both hands. “Okay, I’ll reform.”

  He didn’t. He kept muttering all the while several days later while they were lying in wait for the perpetrators to try again, her deadlines forgotten in the excitement of the chase.

  “This is so damned boring,” he grumbled after they’d been lying behind a sand dune, watching the kids build sand castles for over two hours.

  “Welcome to the real live world of detective work,” she replied. “You watch too much television.”

  His head turned and his lips pursed as he studied her. “So do you. Particularly of the science fiction variety.”

  She glared at him. “That’s hitting below the belt.”

  “Is that any way to talk to a man of my rank and station?” he asked. His lips pursed. “I could have you interrogated, you know,” he said in the same mocking tone her favorite series TV character used. He cocked one eyebrow to enhance the effect. “I could do it myself. I have a yen for brunettes.”

  She cleared her throat. “Stop that.”

  “Hitting you in your weak spot, hmmm?” he taunted.

  “I don’t have any weak spots,” she replied.

  He moved closer, rolling her over onto her back. “That’s what you think.” He bit off the words against her shocked mouth.

  Chapter Nine

  For just an instant she gave in to her longing for him and lay back, floating on waves of pure bliss as his mouth demanded everything she had to give. His lean body fit itself to hers and delicious thrills ran down her spine. She moaned, pulling him closer, the danger forgotten as she gave in to her hunger for him.

  But her sense of self-preservation was too well developed not to assert itself eventually. When his thigh began to ease her long legs apart, she stiffened and wriggled away quickly, with a nervous laugh.

  “Cut that out,” she murmured. “We’re on a case here.”

  He was breathing roughly, his eyes glittery with amusement and something deeper. “Spoilsport,” he said huskily. “Besides, you were the one trying to seduce me a few days ago.”

  She put her hand over her wildly beating heart. “Scout’s honor, I won’t try it again,” she promised.

  His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for any promises,” he said. “Take off that blouse and lie back down here—” he patted the sand beside him “—and let’s discuss it.”

  She shook her head, still smiling. “We have to catch a kidnapper,” she reminded him. “So don’t distract me.”

  “I told you, this is boring,” he said. “I’m not used to inactivity.”

  “Neither am I, but this goes with the job description.” She peered up over the dune. The kids were still working on that sand castle, making it more elaborate by the minute. But there was no one in sight, no one at all. The kids had been kept close while Janine got over her concussion and was recovering. Perhaps the kidnappers had given up.

  She murmured the thought aloud. Canton lay on his back with his arm shading his eyes from the sun. “Fat chance,” he said curtly. “Marie wants her cut of the money and she’ll go to any lengths to get it. Karie knows how she is. Poor kid. The last time I went off on business, before the divorce, Marie had one of her lovers upstairs and she was screaming like a banshee with him. When I got home, Karie was sitting on the steps out front in the snow.”

  She was shocked. “What did you do?”

  He sat up, glancing at her. “What would you have done?” he countered.

  She shrugged. “I’d have thrown him out the front door as naked as a jaybird and left him to get home the best way he could,” she said.

  He chuckled. “You and I think alike.”

  “You didn’t!” she exclaimed.

  He nodded. “Yes, I did. But I have a more charitable heart than you do. I threw his clothes out after him.”

  “And your wife?”

  “I think she knew it was all over. She packed and left with a few veiled threats, and something to the effect that she needed other men because I couldn’t satisfy her in bed.”

  She rolled over and looked up at him. Men were vulnerable there, in their egos, she thought. His eyes were evading hers, but there was pain in the taut lines of his face.

  “They say that—”

  He cut her off. “Don’t start spouting platitudes, for God’s sake,” he muttered. “I don’t want any reassurances from a woman who’s never had a man in the first place.”

  “I was only going to say that I don’t think sex matters much unless people love each other. And if they do, it won’t really make any difference how good or bad they are at it.”

  He shifted, lying on one elbow in the sand. “I wouldn’t know. I married Marie because she was outgoing and beautiful, one of the sexiest women I’d ever known. I had money and she wanted it. I thought she wanted me. Life teaches hard lessons. Glitter can blind a man.”

  “It can blind anyone. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

  “We had ten years together,” he said. “But only the first few months counted. I had my head stuck in computer programs and she was traveling all over the world to every new fashionable resort for the next nine years. Karie had no family life at all.”

  She made an awkward movement and peered over the dune. The kids were still fine, and nobody was in sight.

  “Karie seems happy with you,” she said.

  “I think she is. I haven’t been much of a father in the past. I’m trying to make up for it.” He st
udied her face and smiled gently. “What about you and Kurt? Do your parents care about you?”

  She chuckled. “In their way. They’re flighty and unworldly and naive. But we take care of them.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “Parenting is not for the weakhearted.”

  “I guess not. But kids are sweet. I’ve always loved having Kurt around.”

  He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes and watched her. “Do you want kids of your own?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t say anything else. He just went on watching her, looking at her with intent curiosity.

  “Is my face on crooked?” she murmured, blushing.

  He reached up and touched her cheek, very gently. “It’s a sweet face,” he said solemnly. “Full of concern and mischief and love. I’ve never known anyone like you. You aren’t at all what I thought successful writers were. You’re not conceited or condescending. You don’t even act like a successful writer.”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue,” she replied. “And I’ll tell you something. I know a lot of successful writers. They’re all nice people.”

  “Not all of them.”

  She shrugged. “There are always one or two bad apples in every bunch. But my friends are nice.”

  “Do they all write mysteries?”

  She shook her head. “Some are romance authors, some write science fiction, some write thrillers. We talk over the Internet.” She cleared her throat. “Actually a number of us talk about the villain on that science fiction series. We think he’s just awesome.”

  He chuckled. “Lucky for me I look like him, huh?”

  She laughed and pushed him. He caught her and rolled over, poised just above her with his face suddenly serious. “That isn’t why you’re attracted to me, is it?” he asked worriedly.

  “I think maybe it was, at first,” she admitted.

  “And now?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Now…”

  His thumb moved softly over her mouth, her chin. “Now?”

 

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