The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom (27 page)

“Had you seen them together when Karen was alive?”

“Uh…. no, I don’t think so.”

“And did Karen mention to you that she suspected her husband
was having an affair?”

“No.” I could tell where this was going. “But Karen’s just
two months in the grave and Doug’s getting shoulder rubs from another woman?
That’s just not right! Not to mention, this Jackie character has a bit of a
reputation in the neighborhood, if you know what I mean. A bit of a…”—I lowered
my voice to a whisper— “
cougar
.”

Portman suppressed a smile. “That’s all very… interesting.
But, it’s not evidence.”

I felt a little insulted by his dismissive attitude. If he
told me I’d been watching too much
CSI
, I would storm out and never come
back. “I just thought you should know,” I said, sulkily.

“We’ll definitely keep this in mind, going forward.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

When I got home, I was antsy. I was dying to head to The Old
Grind, but the children would be out of school in less than an hour. Obviously,
I couldn’t take them with me. I would have to wait for Paul to get home before
I could head into town again. It would be more than a little awkward to ask
Katy Baldwin to babysit at this stage. Then an idea struck me. I could take the
children to Trudy’s! She still owed me one for looking after her little
nightmares when she was paralyzed by grief. And I was sure she wouldn’t mind.
Spencer and Chloe were always well behaved for people who were not their
parents. I picked up the phone and dialed.

Trudy was more than happy to have the kids over for a play
date while I went to my very important, last-minute dentist appointment. Now, I
just had to give my husband the same excuse. As I called the office, I couldn’t
help but feel an uncomfortable swell of guilt rising in the pit of my stomach.
I had been lecturing Paul on our need to reconnect, and yet, I continued to lie
to him. Taking a deep breath, I pushed these feelings aside. Once I had solved
Karen’s murder, I would throw all of that energy into my marriage.

After several rings, Paul’s voice mail answered. I have to
admit I was relieved. I left a breezy message about a last minute cancellation
at the dentist’s office and how I desperately wanted her to look at my receding
gums on the lower left side. If the kids and I weren’t home when he arrived,
could he please pick them up at Trudy’s? Of course, we’d probably be there, but
just in case I got delayed or something… Hanging up, I quickly changed into the
water bra, applied a quick coat of mascara, and I was on my way.

The Old Grind was busier in the late afternoon than it had
been on my previous, night time visits. Busy was good. It was much safer to
meet with a potential killer in a crowded coffee shop, than in some secluded
alley or parking lot. I walked through the convivial din of coffee drinkers
socializing and conducting business, directly to the counter. It was so hectic
in there that I hoped Javier would have time to take a break and have a cup of
coffee with me. If he didn’t, I wondered if there was any way I could get him
to quickly lick a spoon or place his saliva on some other object for me?
Patiently, I stood in line behind two other patrons, ordering a vanilla lattes
and a chai tea. The customers were being served by a cute young girl with a
multitude of braids in her hair and an alarmingly large nose ring. But Javier
had to be here somewhere, didn’t he? Perhaps in the back, getting more soy milk
or honey? This was peak time after all.

When it was my turn, I got straight to the point. “Is Javier
here?”

“No, not until tonight,” she replied. “Can I get you
something?”

“Uh… no, I was supposed to meet him…”

“Are you Paige?”

“Yes.”

“He left this for you.” I hadn’t noticed the small white
envelope propped against the tip jar, but as the braided girl handed it to me,
I saw it was emblazoned with my name.

“Thanks.” Snatching up the envelope, I hurried back to my
car. I didn’t want to open it in this crowded establishment and risk having a
flower, a chocolate heart or edible panties fall out on the floor. In the
privacy of my vehicle, I tore it open with shaking hands. Inside, was a tiny,
deep purple, dried pansy. God, Javier must have garbage bags full of these
things at home. There was also a small, folded note. It read:

Call me… Please?

303-555-4272

J.

The pressed rose had been a cute gesture, but now, with the
pansy, it was becoming kind of
cutesy
. I was pleased that I was not
swooning over Javier’s little tokens like some love struck teenager. Really, I
was almost beginning to find him a little…
annoying
. But still I
withdrew my cell phone and dialed the number on the paper.

“Hello?”

The sound of his voice sent an involuntary shiver through
me. He’s annoying remember? I chastised myself. And a bit cheesy. Not to
mention, quite possibly lethal. “It’s Paige,” I said.

“Paige!” He sounded positively thrilled to hear from me.
“You got my note?”

“Yeah, both of them. I was wondering if you wanted to get
together for coffee?”

“I would love to,” he said, and all the hair stood up on my
arms, dammit. “Now?”

“Yes, now. I told Paul I was at the dentist.”

“Of course, of course I can come now. Where are you?”

“I’m outside The Old Grind.”

“We will go somewhere with more privacy, yes? On the same
street, two blocks up, there is a place called Pear. I will meet you there.”

I found the small, intimate bar easily and was seated at a
table near the front within minutes. The place was nearly deserted, but I still
felt relatively safe. Javier was unlikely to murder me in front of the
bartender, the waitress and the drunk salesman seated alone in the far back
corner. I looked at my watch: Four-thirty. I should have ample time to collect
the DNA sample, and get home safely to my family… as long as Javier showed up
soon.

He did. Less than five minutes after my arrival, he strolled
into the dimly lit bistro. Obviously, he lived very close by. As he made his
way toward me a sexy smile spread across his lips, and I felt my breath catch
in my chest. God, he was good looking. But it was a physical reaction only. I
couldn’t forget that he had lied to me about his relationship with Karen, and I
was here to prove it. Also, his habit of including pressed flowers with his
notes was really corny.

“I am so happy to see you,” he said, as he sat down across
from me. I let him take my hand and squeeze it, just for a moment. “You look
beautiful.”

“Thanks. Should we order a drink?” I wanted to expedite this
process.

“I will get them from the bar. What will you have?”

“A glass of red wine, please.” I hoped Javier would order a
beer or, even better, a highball with a straw in it. I didn’t want to have to
steal a glass.

I watched him as he moved to the bar. He was wearing a dark
brown leather jacket cut to accentuate his broad shoulders, and a pair of
perfectly faded Levis. I was quite sure I’d seen Brad Pitt wearing a similar
ensemble in a magazine. Javier obviously had style… and, somehow, money. But
how did he afford a hip wardrobe and a luxury car on coffee shop wages? There
had to be another source of income, something that paid him extremely well. Oh
God… Maybe he was a gigolo?

He returned a few moments later holding two glasses of red
wine. Shit. “Thanks,” I said.

“My pleasure,” he replied. “I am just so happy you agreed to
meet me.”

“Well… yes. I wanted to ask you not to come to my house
again.”

He looked pained. “I should not have, but I was desperate to
talk to you. Last time… it was not good. I am so sorry.”

“Oh, for kidnapping me? Think nothing of it.”

“I feel bad. Please… will you forgive me?”

“I suppose.” I shrugged.

“I was so upset because of the police. They treated me like
a guilty man. I am only guilty of being a friend to Karen. That is all.”

“Right,” I said. “That’s a beautiful jacket you’ve got
there.”

“Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting one like that for Paul’s birthday.
Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift.”

Of course it was… Probably a gift from one of his
sugar-mamas
,
or whatever the term was. “You’re a lucky guy, Javier. Your aunt dies and
leaves you money for a beautiful car, your
friend
buys you a beautiful
jacket…”

“My sister,” he said.

“Sorry?”

“My sister bought me this jacket when she came to visit from
Spain. She is a wealthy lady… married to a politician.”

“Oh. That’s great… wealthy aunt, wealthy sister…”

He was beginning to eye me a little warily and I realized I
was being antagonistic. The anger I felt at having been lied to about his
relationship with Karen was seeping into our discourse. I would have to tone it
down. After all, I couldn’t have him stalking off in a huff. He had to at least
stay until his glass was empty.

“So…” I said, smiling sweetly, “does your sister come to
America often?”

“Not so often. But she comes once in a while. My other
sisters do not come at all. They can not afford the trip.”

“That’s too bad,” I said sympathetically. “Do you go home
much?”

“The last time I went home was two years ago, for my niece’s
wedding. It is hard to go home. I am busy. My life is here.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“Sometimes I feel very lonely.” He gazed intently into my
eyes. “But right now, I don’t. I feel… like I am home.” Oh, brother. Was I
supposed to fall for that line? Maybe it was because I’d recently discovered
Javier was a liar and quite likely, a killer, but it had no effect on me.
Besides, I had bigger concerns. Javier’s glass was still half full and I was
rapidly running out of idle chit-chat. Thankfully, he picked up the
conversation. “Tell me about your family.”

“Well…” I said, seizing the opportunity. “I’ll need a
stronger drink if I’m going to get into all that!”

Javier laughed. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have a vodka tonic. But, please… let me get it. And
can I get you another drink? Rum and Coke? Bloody Mary? Piña Colada?” I rattled
off all the straw-drinks I could think of.

“No,” he said, standing, “I invited you here tonight. I will
buy.”

Damn. As Javier went to the bar, I looked at his glass of
red wine. It was almost like I could see his DNA crawling around on the rim.
Not that I knew what DNA looked like, even if you could see it with the naked
eye, but I had a mental image of little chain-link things with hundreds of
legs. I had to get that glass to the police. (I would worry about its
admissibility later.)

My mind scrambled for a plan. I could pour the wine into a
nearby plant, stuff the glass in my purse and tell Javier that a waitress had
picked it up assuming he was done. My eyes were searching frantically for a
potted fig when I felt Javier’s gaze upon me. He was smiling in my direction
and dropping a green plastic straw into my V&T. I noticed, with chagrin,
that he had not ordered himself another beverage.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to mask my dismay at his drinkless
return. “You’re not going to have another?”

“I will finish my wine, first,” he said, retaking his seat.
“You were going to tell me about your family.”

“Right. Yes, well… my mom’s retired in Arizona, my dad’s
retired in Florida and I have a younger brother who’s a stock trader in New
York.”

Javier nodded, probably wondering why I would need a
stronger drink to relay such a blasé story. “Do you see them much?”

“Once or twice a year…” I shrugged indifferently. Suddenly,
like one of Oprah’s light bulb moments, I knew how I was going to get Javier’s
DNA. Picking up my highball, I took a small sip from the rim of the glass.
“Ewww…” I made a face. “This doesn’t taste right.”

“Really?” Javier looked puzzled.

“Something’s not right.” I proffered the drink to him, the
green straw pointed in his direction. “Taste it. Doesn’t it taste strange?”

His lips descended upon the straw as if in slow motion. I
just barely refrained from cheering,
yesssssssssssssss
! “It tastes fine…
like a normal vodka and tonic.”

“Vodka tonic?” I asked, taking the glass back. “I wanted a
vodka
soda
.”

“I’m sorry. I must have heard wrong. I’ll get you another.”

“You know what? It’s fine,” I said, breezily,
surreptitiously removing the straw from the glass and holding it under the
table. “I shouldn’t have any more to drink, anyway. I’ve got a long drive ahead
of me.”

“Can I get you a coffee? A soft drink?”

“I should go.” Hidden from view, my hands dropped the straw
into my purse. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

It was almost dusk as Javier walked me to my car.
Surprisingly, I felt completely at ease with him, despite the darkening sky and
relatively secluded surroundings. “I wish you could have stayed longer,” he
said, when we reached our destination.

“Sorry,” I shrugged helplessly, “but I’ve got to get home to
the kids.”

“Could we…” He sounded almost shy. “Could we meet again,
some time?”

“Honestly Javier, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Paige, I understand that you are married and that you love
your family. I would never ask you to forsake them. But since I met you, I
can’t stop thinking about you.”

Oh great.

He reached for my hand. “I am not asking for a lot. I know
you cannot give it to me. But, please… tell me you won’t cut me out of your
life completely. You’re such an amazing woman…” He smoothed a lock of hair from
my forehead. “Beautiful… sensual… compassionate…”

Good God! I was half expecting to be billed for all this
flattery. “Look Javier… if you promise not to come by my house again, I suppose
I could meet you for coffee or a drink… sometime.”