Perfect Match

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Perfect Match Page 14

by Fern Michaels


  “One other thing,” Artie said. “Jim lifted some fingerprints from Beth’s house. Now I know what you’re going to say—he worked there overseeing the renovations, so there is bound to be a stray print or two even from years ago—and you would be right. But the prints Jim found—again, this is all in his report—were found in Beth’s bathroom and bedroom as well as in the office. Fresh prints.”

  Gracie took that minute to look at Jake, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck move. This was not good. Definitely not good.

  Jake’s gaze sharpened. In a cold, controlled voice, he said, “I guess this is where you have to give up my sister’s location or get in touch with her yourself, so she can take appropriate measures for her safety. I’ll leave the room so you can keep your promise to Beth to not tell me where she is.” He wheeled his chair so fast, the tires actually screeched on the new flooring. Giz was up like a shot and following him out of the room.

  Gracie bit down on her lip. She didn’t like this turn of events. She stared at the twin lawyers and shrugged as she scribbled off Beth’s address. “This isn’t feeling right to me.”

  “It is his sister. It doesn’t matter what went on before, what matters is the here and now. I understand you have to honor Beth’s wishes, but maybe it’s time to call her and alert her to the seriousness of this situation,” Andy said.

  “Stalkers are not predictable people. At some point, this guy is going to get frustrated just looking from afar. I talked to a cop friend of mine, and he clued me in on how those guys work. And by the way, there are women stalkers out there, too. Being as high-profile as Jake was when he was playing football, I’m sure he heard or saw some of what goes on firsthand. Sooner or later, our guy is going to want a face-to-face with Beth. Stalkers are also known for following their victim, not hiding out in the shadows, so to speak, and appearing out of the blue, so the victim gets just a glimpse of them and goes into panic mode. Which is exactly what the stalker wants to happen,” Artie said.

  “This is really creeping me out. You guys know how independent and fearless Beth is. She’s not going to want guards or someone watching over her. She’ll say she can take care of herself and that she has John at her side. The thing is, John now has a part-time job, so he isn’t with her all the time. Yes, at night, I assume Beth goes with him to the club where he works. She’ll come up with every excuse in the book,” Gracie said.

  The twins threw their hands in the air simultaneously. “Then how do you think we should proceed from here on in? Beth has to be made aware of how dangerous this can get. She has to take this seriously. Do you want us to call her?” Andy asked.

  “I have a better idea. Let’s all call her. I can put us on speaker so we can all hear. That way, the three of us can say what we want to say. Assuming she picks up the phone. Sometimes, she just lets it go to voice mail. Then there’s Jake. I don’t feel right or good about this, and no, I am not switching up sides here.”

  “Do it!” Artie said.

  Gracie hit the number one on her speed dial and waited. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled only when she heard Beth’s cheerful voice.

  “I was just going to call you, Gracie. Guess what? John said he’s off over Thanksgiving, so we’re going to come home for the day. If you buy all the food, I’ll cook. We’ll just blow in, visit, eat, and blow right back out because John has to work Friday night. You okay with that, Gracie?

  “Oh, I’m going to invite Moose for dinner. Have you talked to him? How’s it all going?” Beth asked breathlessly.

  “Well, now that you asked, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Artie and Andy are here. We’re all here in the office at Jake’s house. He’s out in the kitchen at the moment. That’s the reason for this call.”

  Gracie signaled to Andy to start the ball rolling. He did, but three minutes into the conversation, they all realized that Gracie was absolutely correct. Talking to Beth was like talking to a brick wall. Artie chimed in, reading stats on stalkers from a form in his hand. As with Gracie, Beth pooh-poohed it all away. To her credit, she did listen. But she was having no part of it.

  “Listen, Beth, you know I’m not one to sound the alarm bell, but I’m sounding it now. Everyone is worried sick about you. Stalkers start out like Peeping Toms and graduate to different stages. I want you to think about something. What if, for instance, this guy comes up behind you and puts you in a choke hold and damages your throat. What if you can never sing again? Don’t you dare say something stupid like you’ll start wearing scarves. Do you hear me, Beth?”

  “I think the whole town of Nashville can hear you. Okay, okay, I will not go anywhere alone from this moment on. Maybe when I come home for Thanksgiving, you’ll let me bring Gizmo back with me.”

  “Oh, no. No, no, no! Giz stays with me. I’m not giving him up even for you because you’re being bullheaded. Don’t ever bring that up again. Jim Mack, the detective, will be leaving for Nashville today, so be nice to him when he gets there. Help him out. I don’t know why, Beth, but I feel you need him. Humor me, okay?”

  “Sure, whatever you say. Such a waste of time, manpower, and money. How sure are you about this?”

  “I am one hundred percent sure, and Andy and Artie agree. So does your brother. And if you tell Moose, he will agree also,” Gracie said.

  “Anything else?”

  “Isn’t that enough?” Gracie shot back. “Listen, Beth, be careful, okay? Just keep remembering that Luke Olsen’s fingerprints were all over your bedroom and bathroom. He broke into your house. That means he’s moved up several levels since you took out that restraining order against him. He’s wanting more now.”

  “I get it, Gracie. I really do, but I’m not going to live my life in fear. I will stay extra alert, and I promise not to go anywhere alone. I’ll talk to John about it all, too. We’ve made some really nice new friends here, and we can put them on alert also. Stop worrying about me, okay? Is Jake working out?”

  “I was born to worry, you know that, and yes, Jake is working out. He’s got a good grasp on the business now. He’s very cooperative, and Giz loves and adores him.”

  Beth mumbled something into the phone that didn’t sound complimentary. Gracie didn’t bother to ask her to repeat what she’d said, and ended the call. She looked up at the twins and threw her hands in the air. “You heard what I heard. The only thing I think that got to her was the possibility of this guy’s coming up behind her and injuring her throat, so she can’t sing. I think that really got to her. My advice—send Mr. Mack to Nashville ten minutes ago and tell him not to take his eyes off her. I think it will be good if he reports in every six hours. That’s not too much to expect, is it?”

  “Is it safe to come in? Did you all get Beth to agree?”

  Artie looked over at Jake, and said, “Your sister is as stubborn as a mule, but you already know that, I assume. We’re sending the detective to Nashville today. He’s a good man and has a friend on the police force there. He’ll know what to do if things get sticky or out of hand.”

  Jake glanced over at Gracie and hated the look of worry he saw on her face. He wished there was something he could do but had no idea what, if anything, that something was. He turned and steered his chair out the door and down the hall and out of sight. He pressed in the digits to Moose’s cell phone and talked from his heart. For a full ten minutes. He ended with, “I really need you, Moose. Beezer needs you, too. Please, come back so we can all work together to keep Beezer safe. Please, Moose.”

  Forty minutes later, long after the twin lawyers departed, Gracie jerked upright, as did Giz, when they both heard the chugging, wheezing sound of Moose’s truck.

  Jake laughed out loud, then blessed himself. Moose to the rescue. God, how he loved that man. Giz, sensing the exuberant mood in the room, ran out the door and raced down the hall to be a welcoming committee of one.

  Gracie stayed in the office, nibbling on her thumbnail as she waited f
or Moose to come by and say something, anything, an indication that he was just visiting, staying, or picking up the rest of his belongings. She also wondered how, if he planned on staying, it would work out with the new housekeeper. Gracie hated waiting. She bit down on her lower lip and decided she could sneak down the hall and listen outside the kitchen. Of course, she knew that eavesdroppers never heard anything good about themselves, but then again, this wasn’t about her—it was about Beth.

  Gracie didn’t stop to think. She acted, running out of the room and tiptoeing down the hall. She could hear voices, then she heard the sound of a car engine. The new housekeeper leaving? She childishly crossed her fingers that Giz wouldn’t pick up her scent and come barreling through the door. She flattened herself against the wall and unashamedly listened.

  “God, Moose, I gotta tell you, I didn’t think I could miss anyone as much as I missed you. Tell me that you’re here to stay. I’m sorry. I had no right to take you for granted, and that’s exactly what I did. It was all about me, me, me. If it takes me the rest of my life, I promise to spend it making this all right. Right now, though, this isn’t about me, it’s about Beth. I’m hoping you can talk some sense into her.”

  Moose played it to the hilt. Gracie grinned, her fist shooting in the air.

  “I don’t know if I’m staying or not. That’s going to be up to you, Jake. I’ve heard all those promises so many times I’ve lost count. Right now, though, I don’t care about you. I’m here to offer whatever help I can to Beezer.

  “I have to say, Jake, I did admire how deftly you discharged that little lady you had messing up my kitchen. I didn’t know you had it in you to be so kind.”

  “That was a low blow, Moose.” Jake held up his hands, palms outward. “But I deserve it, so let’s move on. And before you can ask, yes, I am going ahead with the scheduled surgery. Everything is in the works. Did I miss anything?”

  “A few things,” Moose snapped. “How is it working out with the little lady in the office, and what about this monster dog?” Giz let loose with a loud bark, then growled to show he wasn’t fond of Moose’s words. Moose reached for a dog treat in a clear plastic canister sitting on the counter. “I meant that as a compliment, Sergeant.”

  “I think it’s safe to say Gracie and I have a truce of sorts. She does have a sharp tongue at times. If you take a real good look at her, Moose, she’s pretty. She has expressive eyes and, once, I actually saw her smile. I actually like her, but I’ll never tell her that. She looked like the Mona Lisa when she smiled. I kid you not. I’ve done everything she asked me to do. In other words, Moose, I’ve been a perfect gentleman. You can be proud of me. I mean that. Beth’s business is safe, and that’s because a lot of people who care about her pitched in and worked around the clock. I learned more about my sister in these past few days than I knew about her all our lives. Did I say that right, does it make sense?

  “I should have spent more time with her. I don’t know if I can ever make that right, but as long as I’m breathing, I’ll keep trying. As for the dog, he really is one of a kind. I think he likes me. When I get back here after surgery and rehab, I’m going to look into getting a dog like Giz. He’s a therapy dog, did you know that? Gracie takes him to the VA on Sundays to give moral support to the veterans there for therapy. You gotta admire that, and the dog. Like I said, he likes me.”

  Outside in the hallway, Gracie’s hands flew to her mouth in shock. She turned around and ran down to the office, where she collapsed into her ergonomic chair. He thought she was pretty. He wasn’t crazy about her sharp tongue, however. And he thought she looked like the Mona Lisa. Gracie didn’t know if she should be flattered or insulted, because she thought that in the Mona Lisa paintings she’d seen, Mona looked homely.

  Gracie squeezed her eyes shut and wondered what it would be like to glide across a dance floor with Jake Masters. Like that was ever going to happen. He thought she was pretty. Hmmmmm.

  Back in the kitchen, the conversation continued. “What’s our next move here?” Moose asked.

  Jake shared everything he knew right up to the part where the private detective, Jim Mack, was heading for Nashville today. “Your turn, Moose. Don’t tell me you haven’t been in touch with Beezer, because I know you have. You love her as much as I do. Help me out here, okay?”

  “I have spoken to her, but the conversations are mainly about her career and what she hopes will happen down the road. She’s really excited about her singing lessons and John’s gig, as she calls it. She said she and John have made a lot of new friends. She doesn’t ask about you, if that’s your next question. She called me just as I pulled into the driveway to invite me for Thanksgiving dinner. She said she and John are coming back just for the day. She’s cooking at her house. No, you are not invited.”

  “I didn’t think I would be, Moose. It’s okay. I already planned on ordering a complete dinner from Zabar’s in New York. I plan on psyching myself up for Friday, and I need to be alone to do that. Not to worry—I called a medical transportation service to take me to the hospital Friday morning, so don’t worry about that. Spend as much time as you can with Beezer and John.

  “Look, I’ve goofed up here long enough. I have some stuff I still need to go over with Gracie before we call it a day. If I could stand up, I’d hug you, Moose.”

  Moose almost lost it then at the sincerity in Jake’s voice. “What do you want for dinner, Jake?” he asked gruffly.

  Jake looked stunned. “You’re cooking?”

  “Well, yeah. I like to eat at least once a day. How does three big juicy rib eyes sound, with twice-baked potatoes, salad, and some of my mango relish?”

  “It sounds like I died and went to heaven. Three steaks?”

  “For the big guy here,” Moose said, pointing to Gizmo. “You want to stay for dinner? Rib eye steak that will make you drool for me. My specialty. Whadda ya say, Sergeant?”

  Gizmo barked three times.

  “That means yes. Gracie said when he barks three times, it means yes. Two barks is no. Oooh, I don’t know if she’ll let him stay for the night. You better check with her before you cook his steak.”

  “Why don’t you do that, Jake? Check with her, I mean.”

  Jake squirmed in his chair. “What if she says no?”

  Moose snorted. “Use your powers of persuasion. And doesn’t the dog have something to say about it?”

  “The dog can’t ask permission. This might be overstepping my bounds here.... Okay, okay, I’ll ask her,” Jake said, turning his chair around. He looked back over his shoulder, and said, “I love you, old man, you know that, right?”

  Moose made another snorting sound as he bent down to pick up his suitcase to take into his room. The moment he closed the door, he did a little jig and shot both fists high in the air.

  The minute Jake entered the office, he got right to the point. “Moose is going to grill some rib eyes tonight and he invited Gizmo for dinner. The dog barked three times meaning, according to you, yes. I realize he is your dog and what you say goes, so if you don’t want him to stay, it’s okay.”

  This was the last thing she expected to hear from Jake. Should she say yes or should she say no? If she said no, what would he think of her? She looked over at Gizmo, and asked, “You wanna stay for dinner and spend the night?” Giz let loose with three sharp barks as he danced around in a circle. “Okay then. Go tell Mr. Moose you’re staying.” The dog was off like a shot.

  Gracie homed in on Jake. “Don’t think you’re going to steal my dog’s affections.”

  “Gracie! How could I possibly do that?” He grinned.

  “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be the first person to try. Look, I’m tired, so let’s call it a day and get an early start in the morning.”

  “That works for me. I’m kind of tired myself.”

  Gracie packed her stuff, gathered up her coat and backpack as she wondered why she hadn’t been invited to dinner. Maybe they thought she wasn’t worthy of one of Mr. Moos
e’s rib eyes. Something hot pricked at her eyelids.

  Jake heard Gizmo bounding down the hall, so he could walk Gracie to the door. He wondered now why he hadn’t invited Gracie to dinner. Or why Moose hadn’t suggested it. Come to think of it, she’d looked stunned that the dog was invited but not her. Not cool, Jake. Not cool at all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Beth Masters plopped a heavy, accordion-pleated file folder on the table of her cozy breakfast nook and proceeded to lay out stacks of forms and papers in orderly rows. She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, then down at her cell phone, and finally at the piles of papers. She sighed deeply. She felt out of sorts, discombobulated, as John liked to say. She knew he was standing in the doorway watching her, waiting for her to say something. She hated it when he looked at her like he was looking at her now. She bit down on her lower lip.

  “Wanna talk about it, Beth? I have time before I have to head on out. Good dinner, by the way. Sometimes, talking about it helps.” He grinned, then said what he always said in situations like this, “Wanna get married?” At which point Beth always giggled and waved her hands in the air. Translation: I’m not quite ready yet.

  Beth stared across the room at the love of her life. Her anchor. Her port in a storm. They’d been together almost all their lives, except for John’s stint in the Marine Corps. She’d written him every single day for four solid years. John wrote once a week if he was lucky, short letters that she devoured and memorized. She loved him heart and soul and knew no one could or would ever be able to take his place in her heart. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for this man. Nothing. The mess on the table was proof of her love and devotion.

  John Rossmon was six-two and tipped the scales at 180. Paul Newman blue eyes, adorable dimples that he hated, a sizzling, sexy smile that drove women crazy, and her name was at the top of that particular list. He wore his hair high and tight, the same way he’d worn it in the marines. A hunk. And he was all hers. He’d been all hers since they were ten years old. He had mowed their lawn, and she’d taken him glasses of lemonade that he would share with her. He walked her to school, sometimes carrying her book bag. He’d taken her to all her proms and kissed her for the first time under the old oak tree where he had carved their initials when he was thirteen. He had magic fingers with his guitar and could sing like a bird. If she had a wish, it would be that he found his place here in Nashville and got to head up the charts. Every night, right before she fell asleep, she prayed that it would happen for John. If there was anything she could do to help things along, she’d do it in a New York minute.

 

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