Blind Dates Can Be Murder (11 page)

“Wouldn’t consulting for me serve the same end? I want you to help me design a ‘clean house’—a house that practically cleans itself, if you will. I’ve already looked at self-cleaning windows and antibacterial counter surfaces. But I’m sure there’s much more new technology out there that I simply haven’t learned about yet.”

Jo’s resolve began to waver. She, too, had been reading about self-cleaning glass and antibacterial counters—and she was fascinated by the latest and greatest products for more effortless home care.

“It might help if you could see my home,” he added, reaching into a pocket. He produced some snapshots and gave them to Jo. She went through them, impressed at the beauty of the place. He wasn’t just renovating a home; he was creating a showpiece.

“No disrespect,” she said, gesturing toward the photos, “but with a gorgeous home like this, it seems to me you can well afford a maid. Why would you bother with my little ideas for keeping a house clean?”

He hesitated before carefully taking the photos from her and slipping them back into his pocket.

“Actually,” he said, “I’m not as wealthy as it may appear. I’ve been saving for my dream home for years, and I’ve done a lot of the work on the house myself. It’s a labor of love. Once I heard you speaking today, I realized that the expertise you offer is exactly what I need to make my house complete. I’m prepared to pay whatever you think is fair for your time, say a hundred dollars an hour?”

Jo hesitated. She hated to turn down that kind of money for something that was right in line with what she was doing anyway.

“It does sound like an interesting project,” she said. “Maybe I could find some way to make this work.”

Lettie was impressed with the Dates&Mates facility. The place was huge, with a large reception desk that curved through an inviting lobby. The place was milling with people, and though Lettie would have expected them all to be young and beautiful, in fact they were of all sizes, shapes, colors, and ages. It seemed that loneliness knew no bounds—and that using a dating service was the new way to find a companion.

Almost on tiptoe, Lettie made her way to the counter and asked the perky lady who greeted her if they were hiring.

“We sure are,” the lady said with a smile. “Would you like to apply?”

“Yes. I do secretarial, computer—”

Before Lettie could even list her qualifications, the woman cut her off with a wave.

“Save it for the application, hon,” she said, handing over the form. “I’m just the traffic director.”

Lettie uttered a small thank-you, taking the proffered form.

Then she found a quiet corner, sat, and began filling in the blanks.

“All right, here’s my offer,” Jo said to Peter Trumble. “I’ll consider taking the consulting job, but only if I would be allowed to photograph what we do there—and use the photos on my website and in my book. I won’t have to say who the house belongs to or where it is, but I would need to utilize it on a larger scale to justify my time and effort.”

“Sounds fair,” he said. “As long as you can get started right away. I don’t want to delay.”

They made an appointment for that afternoon at 4:00 so she could look at his home and get an idea of what would be involved. She would make her final decision once she had seen the house firsthand.

“I’ll bring my photographer,” Jo said, hoping Danny was free. After last night’s danger, she wasn’t going anywhere new by herself, not even to the fancy home of an affluent consultant.

“Sounds fine,” he told her. “I’ll see if I can get my architect to drop by as well.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary at this point.”

Peter smiled. “Well, she’s also my girlfriend. She’ll want to be included.”

Jo returned his smile.

“I understand.”

As he wrote out the directions to his home and explained them, Jo found herself warming to him slightly. He seemed like an okay guy, if a little stiff.

They shook hands and parted ways, and with ten minutes to spare before she was to meet her date, Jo made a beeline for the restroom. Once there, she quickly touched up her makeup and hair and checked the lines of her skirt. She was dressed more professionally than the night before, but she was still pleased with the overall effect. Now that Brock Dentyne was more than just a name, she wanted to look nice for him.

Just by virtue of the way God made him, he certainly would look nice for her!

Danny was in a sitting when his cell phone rang. Startled, he realized that he had been so caught up in his work that he had lost track of time—and he almost missed catching Jo after her class. Fortunately, she was the one who was calling.

“Excuse me a minute,” he told the man who was posed and waiting for his picture to be taken. “This is important.” Crossing the room, he pressed the button and spoke into the phone. “Jo?”

“Hey. You busy this afternoon?”

“Not necessarily. I was hoping—”

He was about to say that he was hoping he and Jo could go somewhere to celebrate some big news, but before he could even get the words out, she cut him off.

“Great. Listen, you know how we talked about you being the photographer for my book on housekeeping? It’s kind of a long story, and I don’t have time to go into it right now, but I made an appointment for us at four to go to this guy’s house out in the country.”

“Who?”

“A man I just met. He came to my class. I think he might be useful in writing the book.”

Danny exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jo, with all that happened last night, you want to go to some guy’s house out in the country?”

“Danny—”

“A guy you don’t know?”

“But—”

“Should I bring along the rope and the knife, or should we just see if he has any there? And how ’bout a gun?”

Danny glanced over at his client, who was looking a bit startled.

“You don’t understand,” Jo told him. “I’ll tell you more later, but he’s a businessman with a big fancy house that he’s willing to have photographed. He wants to hire me as a consultant to help him design a cleaner house.”

Danny checked his watch.

“Look, I have a break after this appointment,” he told her, lowering his voice. “You’re in the building, right? I’ll come find you in about ten minutes and then we can talk.”

“No can do. I’ve got a lunch date, remember?”

Oh. Of course. How could he have forgotten?

“I’m about to leave now for that,” she continued, “so why don’t I just call you when I’m done? Try to keep four o’clock clear, if you can. Well, actually, we’d need to leave about three thirty.”

Danny’s teeth clinched in frustration, and not just because he had big news he wanted to share or because he was jealous of her date. He was mad because she was making some bad decisions: Only a day after the weirdest night on record, she was ready to have lunch with one male stranger and go to the home of another! Had she lost her grip on reality?

“Jo, look,” he said, sounding sharper than he intended, “I don’t think this is safe, meeting this guy for lunch. We still have no idea what really happened last night.”

Jo was silent on the other end of the phone. As he waited for her to reply, there was a soft tap on the door. Danny gave another apologetic wave to his client, who was beginning to look very irritated, and then he stepped toward the door and opened it up. Jo was standing there, phone in hand. She smiled and hung up.

“Sorry to bother you while you’re working,” she told him in a soft voice, “but I have to say this to you in person.”

“What?” he asked, also hanging up his phone.

She met his worried gaze with her beautiful green eyes. Just looking into them, he felt calmer—and less calm—than before.

“I am not stupid,” she said, counting off on her fingers. “I will not leave the restaurant with Brock, it’s broad daylight, we’re in the middle of downtown Mulberry Glen, I’ll have my cell phone with me, and you’re only a few doors down if I need you. Okay?”

She had lost him somewhere in the middle of her list, about when he realized that she had a faint freckle right on the edge of her bottom lip, just where he would like to kiss it.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Just promise you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” she replied.

Then she stood up on tiptoe, kissed him on the cheek, and headed out for her date.

She was out of the door before he remembered that he still hadn’t told her his big news.

Brock was waiting at the restaurant when Jo arrived, and when he spotted her, he gave her a huge smile that seemed genuine. She approached him, and before she had a chance to go through an awkward moment of greeting, he reached out and took both of her hands and kissed her on the cheek.

“You look lovely today,” he drawled in his Southern accent. “I’m sorry I can’t say the same.”

He gestured toward his head, and Jo could see that the swelling had grown worse, and that it had spread around his head to his face. The skin near his right eye was swollen, and there was some bruising on his eyelid.

“What did they say at the hospital? Do you have a concussion?”

“Mild,” he told her. “They wouldn’t let me go home alone, so I had to call a colleague. He came over and babysat me all night. Fortunately, I never got nauseous and all that. Just had a really, really bad headache.”

“Are you sure you’re up to lunch? We can always reschedule, you know.”

“Are you kidding, Jo? The thought of seeing you again was the only thing that got me through a very difficult night.”