Armed With Steele (17 page)

“You hungry? I’m gonna grab a quick bite at the BK down the road on my way back to work. You’re welcome to join me, if you like.”

“Sure, why not? I am kind of hungry.” I reached to collect my things and then stopped. “But wait!” I cried, looking down at the pink stain all over my right pant leg. “I can’t go like this!”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my arm. “It’s
Burger King
, Jessica. Besides, I’m dying to hear all about this new boyfriend of yours.”

Oh, crap.

* * * *

“I’m telling you, Matt, I made the whole thing up.”

He grinned at me over the top of his Whopper. “Uh-huh. You know what I think? I think it was a Freudian slip. Somebody has a monster crush on Officer Steele,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“Shut up,” I hissed and ducked a little as I scanned Burger King for any recognizable witnesses.

“Oh, and she’s got it
bad
.” He plunged into his burger, somehow managing to preserve a smirk while he chewed.

“Yeah, alright. So he’s kinda cute. Lots of guys are.” I stabbed at my grilled chicken salad. And its fat-free raspberry vinaigrette. Stupid calorie counting.

“Ah, but you don’t usually notice the cute ones.” He cast a knowing glance down at my salad. “Or eat rabbit food.”

I felt color flood my cheeks and hated that there was nothing I could do to hide it.

“So, what, did he ask you out or something?”

I crunched noisily on a forkful of greens and considered my options. If I admitted my true reason for being involved with Nate, Matt would try to talk me out of it. And after three days of hearing nothing from either Nate or Maxwell, it wouldn’t have been hard to do. The other option was to fib. Again.

“No. So, what have you been up to this week?”

Matt stopped chewing and lowered his burger. “You’re hiding something.”

I shook my head, feigning innocence.

“Yes, you are! Jess, what’s going on? You lied to your mom, completely changed your look, and now you’re hiding something from me.”

“No, I—”

“Matt?”

I looked up to see a short, curvy brunette walking toward our table. “Matt Harris, is that really you? It’s Daphne, Daphne Smith—from business ethics class. Remember?”

“Oh, uh, hi, Daphne,” Matt replied, looking like a deer in headlights. A
trapped
deer in headlights. Something told me Daphne was a talker.

I said a quick “ThankyouGodforthedistraction” prayer and looked down at my wrist. “Oh, shoot, look at the time! Matt, I really must be going.”

“Don’t you dar—”

“Here, Daphne,” I said, rising abruptly. “You can have my seat. I’m sure you and Matt have a
lot
to catch up on.”

Matt shot me a nasty look. “You can explain later,” he growled.

I picked up my tray, gave him a wink, and headed for the door. “Don’t count on it.”

* * * *

“No, Mom, I did not pick the first box I saw on the shelf.”

It was Friday morning, and the second time in two days my mother had called to interrogate me about my unexpected change in appearance.
Thank you, Sharon.

I glanced over at my bedside clock and scowled. Mom could have waited to call until at least nine, for Pete’s sake. Now Brutus would be up and I’d have to get out of bed and take him out.

“This is just so unlike you, dear. First you start dating a cop, now you’re a brunette. You two must really be getting hot and heavy.” She paused. “Are you using protection?”

“Mother!”

“You’d better be. Because don’t even think about moving back home with a bun in the oven, young lady. Why, Marie Steven’s daughter went and got knocked—”

“We are
not
having this conversation!” A beep signaling an incoming call came to my rescue. “Gotta go, I have a client calling on the other line.

“Okay, dear. But promise me—”

“Good-
bye
, Mother.” I clicked the
Send
button on my phone, cutting her off. “Hello?”

“I’m calling for Jessica Hartley, please?”

“Speaking.”

“Miss Hartley, this is Molly Gillenwater calling on behalf of Maxwell Office Solutions.”

Molly Gillenwater. The ice queen who had been less than thrilled to process my application on Monday. I shivered at the memory. Was she always so frosty to everyone, or did she just hate me for some reason?

“Mr. Frankston requested I call to set up a time for you to come in for an interview. If you’re still interested in the job, that is.”

Truthfully, the thought of taking this second job was about as appealing as going down a long bumpy slide and landing barefoot-first into a patch of prickly cacti. But I’d promised Nate. And more importantly, I’d promised Grace. “Oh, yes. Absolutely.”

I picked the first available time slot she offered and hung up. Then I sat there for a few moments, trying to decide whether I should be excited about this advancement in our plan or skip town. And believe me, skipping town sounded like one hell of a great option right then.

Especially since I still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of my ghost of a partner since he’d bolted out the door on Monday. Had I said something wrong and ticked him off? Or was this just his way of making sure I understood that our relationship was strictly professional?

I gave myself a mental slap. Why was I worried about relationship issues with Nate? We were business partners, nothing more. He’d said to let him know when I got the call, and now I had. So I took a deep breath and did just that. Via a text message.

Maxwell just called
, I typed.
Interview Mon 9am
.

I hit
Send
and rolled out of bed. After I hit the bathroom, I slid into my taking-the-dog-out red plaid lounge pants and headed for the back door. And for a strong cup of coffee, to drown the growing school-girl crush I seemed to have on Nate.

Brutus tromped along at my heels as we passed into the kitchen. Apparently I’d forgotten to close the curtains over the sink the prior night. Now, between the brilliant fall sunshine and cheery pale yellow walls, our kitchen was practically glowing.

I squinted, my eyes nearly shut, and groped my way forward in search of a mug from the cupboard overhead. Unfortunately, my left big toe found a cupboard of its own first. I curled both hands into fists, and waited for the shooting pains in my toe to subside.

“Sonofabi—”

My cell phone began to ring.

“—tchhhh.”

I hobbled back to my bedroom, cursing the entire way. Brutus remained under foot, which didn’t help the situation any. “Hello?” I said, my voice tight with pain. And annoyance.

“Jessica, it’s Nate. A-are you alright?”

“Yep. Just…stubbed a toe, that’s all. What’s up, stranger?”

“Yeah, sorry about deserting you this week. I’ll explain later. But I got your text—way to go!”

Later? My heart did a pathetic little flip-flop. Which I did my best to ignore.

“Does that mean you haven’t bailed on me, then?”

“Bailed on you? No, it’d take a lot more than—” He paused. Cleared his throat. “It just hasn’t been safe for me to be around you the past few days. But now the ball is officially rolling, so we need to get moving on our strategy. You got plans tonight? “

I looked down and bent my big toe back and forth—not broken, thank heavens. “Sounds like I do now. Wait. What do you mean, not
safe
? Should I be worried?”

“Safe for you, not me. Again, I’ll explain later. I’m in between runs so I don’t have long to talk. Can you be at 8679 River Canyon Drive around seven tonight?”

“Hang on, let me write it down.” I gimped over to my desk and grabbed a pen. “One more time?”

“8679 River Canyon Drive.”

“Got it. This is your place?” An invite to Nate’s? My heart skipped another beat or twelve.

He snorted. “No, I wish. It’s Charlie’s house. My place is even less safe than yours. Anyway, if you get there before me, just wait outside.”

“Outside? Um, okay. I’ll keep an eye out for your cruiser.”

“No, no, I’ll have my personal vehicle. It’s a blue—” His two-way radio sprang to life, and drowned out a few of his words. “Should be the only car in the driveway.”

“Okay, see you—”

The phone disconnected.

“Later.”

Chapter 13

I pulled into Charlie’s long, winding driveway just after seven that night. His lot was deeper than it looked from the road, perhaps because it was so heavily wooded. After a few twists and turns, dense trees gave way to a small, open lawn skirting a beautiful two-story home. A sleek royal blue Chevy Camaro, complete with white racing stripes that ran from grill to tail, was parked before the garage. And there, leaning up against it, was Nate.

I parked my little Civic, and momentarily struggled with a silly case of car-envy. Of course, once I stepped out and got a better look at my partner, that emotion became the least of my worries. Nate looked like a damn Levi’s model tonight, what with his black boots, dark button-flys and a black, fitted leather jacket.

And that I even noticed was so…pathetic.

I walked around the passenger side of my car to retrieve my things and reviewed my goals—get in, strategize, and get back out. No messy emotional stuff; this was strictly business.

“So you found it okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I opened my passenger side door. “For the most part. Thank goodness for MapQuest.”

“So, I probably owe you a bit of an explanation.”

I plucked a bag of pastries and my purse from the front seat and bumped the door shut with my elbow. “You don’t
owe
me anything, Nate.” I turned in the direction of the home’s front walkway and began to walk away, wanting to put some distance between me and those perfectly fitting jeans of his.

But he reached out and snagged my arm. “Yes, I do. Look, I asked you to be my partner in this, and then I go and disappear on you when what I should have been doing was building your trust. Bu—will you please look at me?”

I sighed, braced myself for the view, and then looked up at his face. Those infamous brilliant blues blazed down at me.

“Thank you,” he said, and released my arm. “I had every intention of sticking around Monday, but then I got that text from Katie.”

“Katie?”

“My girlfriend.”

I shifted on my feet. “Oh, right. The hot date you went running out for on Saturday.”

He smirked. “I never said it was a
hot
date. And trust me, it was anything but.”

“You know what?” I held my free hand up, keys dangling. “You can stop now. Really. So you’ve got a girlfriend? It’s really none of my business. You asked for my help in solving a crime, not out on a date.”

He nodded, and looked off into the woods. “Well, actually, it kinda is your business now. See, she called as I was headed to your place on Monday. Had a fit that I’d already made plans without first consulting her. Then she starts sending nasty texts, so I knew I’d better get over there. I arrived in time to get screamed at, dumped, and left on the porch as she stormed off to her sister’s house.”

“Oh, Nate, I’m so sorry.” Not.

“It wasn’t your fault. Things between us had been going downhill for a while now. And she was getting more and more paranoid lately.” He laughed through his nose. “You know what she told me that night?”

An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of my stomach. “No, what?”

“That she’d overheard some older woman in the checkout line at Macy’s last week telling another woman about how her daughter was dating an Officer Steele.”

My cheeks began to burn. “Nate, I—”

He held up a hand to stop me. “I told her she must have heard wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen. It didn’t help that she also went in for a haircut Monday afternoon. Marissa must have said something about you and your big makeover, because that sent her into some noisy tirade at the salon.” He paused, shook his head. “So when she learned that I was headed to your place instead of hers, well, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. And no matter how many times I tried to tell her otherwise, Katie’s absolutely convinced now that you and I are seeing each other. Isn’t that ridiculous?”