Sprayed Stiff (26 page)

Uh-oh. With his fear of heights, was my daring detective still stuck fifteen stories in the air?

Clint was talking, but I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. He looked questioningly at me, waiting. “So, what do you think?”

“Sure,” I said.
Whatever you said.
“Have you seen Detective Scythe?”

Ranger Calhoun drew his black eyebrows together in a frown. “No. Why?”

“Excuse me for just a minute. I have to check something.” I darted around him and ran out into the open, looking up at the top of the WonderWoman. Sure enough, there was a lone figure on the escape stairs, hanging on to the railing for dear life, looking at the sky probably so he wouldn’t look down. I was pretty sure Scythe’s fear of heights was not common knowledge around Testosteroneville, and that he wanted to keep it that way. He had saved my life. The least I could do was try to get him down. But how? When does a man forget everything around him, from common sense to phobic fear? I had an idea.

A young patrolman stationed nearby watched me curiously. “Can I use your two-way radio?”

“No. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Look, can you keep a secret?”

He looked interested, so I went on: “Detective Scythe saved my life up there, and now he’s having a bit of a problem coming down.” I cocked my head skyward.

He looked up, his eyes widening. “I better call for help.”

“No! Sometimes if you go after guys with vertigo, it magnifies the fear. I want to try to talk him down.” I held out my hand. “May I?”

“Only if I can listen in.”

What choice did I have? I nodded and asked him to get us a private channel. He held the radio close to my mouth but kept hold of it himself. Cozy. Not very conducive to what I had planned, but I’d have to wing it for Scythe’s sake.

“Scythe, this is Reyn. Please talk to me.”

We waited and watched. Nothing. He was a statue.

“Uh…” What could get his attention? I threw some throat in my alto. “Jackson, please, I need you to come down.”

I saw him reach carefully for the radio on his belt. Slowly, he lifted it up. His voice sounded hoarse. “Did you say you want me to
come?”

He caught on quick. “You know that deal that we didn’t get quite to its
climax
the other night?”

“I know that deal.”

“Well, maybe we should talk it through in detail, right now.”

“In detail? Sounds good to me.” I could see him relaxing against the handrail, starting to bring his gaze down.

“Let’s go through one stage of the deal for every flight down you take. You must correct me if something is not what you
desire.”

Scythe sucked in some air that whooshed in our ears. The patrolman was blushing madly. “First, let’s talk about where you want to put that whipped cream…”

By the time we got through stage fourteen, I thought the patrolman with me was going to pass out from embarrassment. I was squirming with sexual frustration. I blew out a breath as Scythe told me he’d see me at the bottom. I looked at the patrolman. “At least you switched to a private channel, right?”

Oops. The look on his face said it all.

Crandall came out of WonderWoman central, his body shaking so hard with laughter he couldn’t walk straight. “Good job, Reyn. You caught the bad guy—or gal, as the case may be—saved your savior, and even earned some extra money along the way.” He held up a handful of twenties.

I watched Lieutenant Jackson Scythe make it down the last flight of stairs, worn out but back to his sexy self. I shot Crandall a look. “What is the money for, Fred?”

Jackson and I met halfway. He drew me into a sweaty hug and whispered his thanks. “You called me Jackson.” His laser blues glowed and added some silent promises to that deal.

Crandall slapped Scythe on the back. “These are payments for the phone sex you two just had. Better than any such call, is what those with that experience are reporting. You’ve got enough to pay for all those little details you two described. So that means you and Scythe better get busy tonight. We expect part two tomorrow.” He winked. Mario peeked around the corner with a go-for-it sign. Trudy popped up next to him and gave me an odd look, then cocked her head toward a space beyond me. Was she trying to tell me something?

Jackson looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Are you free?”

“No, Reyn’s got plans with me this evening for the Lyle Lovett concert.”

We turned to see Clint Calhoun holding up two tickets.

Somehow, “uh-oh” didn’t quite cover it….