Wildly Inappropriate (23 page)

"Hello?" A tiny woman in a floral cotton dress peered through the screen. She didn't open the storm door, but the glass had been lowered. Behind the gray mesh, her face was lined and her eyes were glazed with the white film that haunted Daisy. He made a silent prayer she'd listen to his proposal. For her sake as well as for his.

Dan had no idea what her last name might be. "My name's Daniel De Marco, ma'am. I'm a friend of your granddaughter, Cynda Avery. I was hoping to talk to you about the, um… issue you're having with Mr. Dazza and his loan."

* * * *

Lila's eyes sparkled. "If he wants to keep the baby, then consider yourself hired. You can help me in the shop till it's born. I had the energy of a slug when I was pregnant with Charlie and my business is just picking up. I don't want to lose any customers by not being open. I stayed home to raise Charlie, but I'm not twenty-two anymore, and I finally got my little dream of opening an official business. Colton did build that building to house my shop. Maybe he'd be willing to add a nursery and a room for a nanny."

"For real?" Cynda demanded, deciding that no matter what, she intended to remain friends with Lila. "You might be able to use some help with Jonah. I can pick him up after school and stuff, till he learns to drive, and get dinner started," she offered eagerly. "You said most nights you feed all of them. That's got to be a lot of cooking, and if you're going to be coaching Jonah's baseball team, they still have to eat."

"Deal," Lila said emphatically. "But don't go all starry-eyed on me yet. Colton might think we should get the abortion, you know? And if you ever say
baby daddy
in my presence again, I'll… I'll… I don't know what I'll do, but it'll be ugly," Lila vowed.

"You could always get me arrested," Cynda pointed out, grinning.

"That CO is going to have live, quacking baby ducks if we keep laughing," Lila spluttered when the expected warning came.

Lila was all smiles now, but Cynda's chest tightened, in spite of her laughter. It might not be wise to plan on helping Lila. What if, at the end of next week when her time was up on his little contract, Daniel never wanted to see her again?

She stretched out on the thin mattress, tugging her dress below her knees. Maybe she could think of a way to get him to ask her for a longer contract. She'd just gotten Lila to offer her her dream job, hadn't she?

If nothing else, she'd managed to get Lila to see she didn't really want an abortion.

* * * *

"So, this reverse mortgage. You'd be buying my house, but I could still live in it till I die?"

To Dan's relief, Coralinne Avery had listened to his offer. He remembered not to nod. "Yes, ma'am. I can give you the cash, or you can use the purchase price like a savings account and just draw out money whenever you need it. I'd feel better if you heard the pros and cons of those choices from my attorney or yours, if you have one. I'd be buying the house at today's fair market value, but you'd retain the right to live in it for your lifetime. You'd pay the taxes, insurance and upkeep, just like you do now, but you'd have the proceeds from the sale to help you with that." He gritted his teeth. "And to pay Kingsley Dazza, of course. It would be my pleasure to drive you to speak with him about that, actually. I think we can negotiate a better deal. Title reverts to me upon your death and not a minute sooner, as long as you keep the taxes and insurance paid."

He hadn't expected her to cry. The tight hug she insisted on giving him felt wildly inappropriate, since he'd end up owning her house, but Dan returned the squeeze.

Surprised when she invited him to church, Dan nonetheless agreed. Tucking her arm through his, he walked her slowly up the small hill behind her house, joining several of her neighbors heading in the same direction. In the miniscule sanctuary, he found the pine pews were unforgiving, but his conscience eased a bit.

Until Miss Coralinne whispered, "It's a shame Cynda had to work this morning. She been singin' in that choir since she was thirteen. Even if she is mine, cain't no angel sing better."

Chapter Eighteen

Cynda's sweat clung to her skin like an overcoat. The pretty lace-trimmed shift she'd donned to go to the Daniel Morgan Hotel was crumpled and dirty. Her teeth felt like they wore little sweaters but she'd fared better than Lila. The other woman had dark circles under her eyes, and her loose hair was tangled. Officer Nelson had confiscated the elastic band she used to tie it back. Cynda sat down on the hard bench with her head held high, refusing to wince at the tightness of her handcuffs. This time, she could be sure Lila's were much tighter. She perched uncomfortably on the edge of her seat, looking around curiously. Other than the row of detainees, the only person in the room was a brown-haired man wearing a three-piece suit. He was seated in a folding metal chair off to one side, flipping casually through some papers.

She'd expected a courtroom like on television, but this looked more like a Sunday school classroom. At the front, a small wooden table and a metal folding chair were centered between the dual rows of benches.

"Don't talk back to the magistrate when he comes in. Say 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir' and not much else," Officer Nelson intoned. "Any talkin' while you wait for your name to be called and you'll go right back in your cell till tomorrow." She gave Lila a hard stare. Lila's smile held a challenge. Cynda had to bite back a grin. That was one stubborn white woman.

The door to the room opened. Cynda's heart vaulted into her throat. She watched the white judge stroll in, trying to evaluate the man who'd decide whether or not she was released. She'd fretted over how she'd pay bail, but Lila promised if they couldn't sign their own bond she'd get them both out. Maybe Daniel would pay Lila back and add a few days to her contract.

She could always hope.

Call it Stockholm syndrome, but she liked Lila. The woman had a way of growing on you—when she wasn't causing trouble. Thanks to Lila's pissing match with the CO, she'd been denied shower privileges. Cynda had declined to take one out of loyalty to Lila, but she was regretting her impulse now.

When the magistrate called her name, CO Nelson jammed her key into Cynda's cuffs. "Bet I see you again," the vile woman muttered. The cuffs fell free and Cynda straightened her shoulders. Anger stiffened her knees. She marched past the jailor and stepped before the judge.

The man in the suit got to his feet and moved to her side. Cynda turned to gape at him. He patted her back, but spoke to the magistrate. "Wentworth Morgan, representing the defendant, Your Honor. This is my client's first offense. She's a lifetime resident of the county with no plans to leave. She pleads not guilty and she waives no rights."

The magistrate shoved a paper across his desk and pointed to a pen fastened by a chain to the small desk. He rattled off Grams' address. "Is that your correct address?"

"Yes, sir." Cynda's heart thudded to the commercial tile at her feet. She'd added to Grams' money problems. But how had her grandmother found out? Her heart twisted. Daniel must have told her. Or had the restaurant manager called her?

"Sign here, Miss Avery. Court date to be determined. You'll get a letter in the mail."

Her hand shook as she scrawled her name. Dropping the pen, she looked at the attorney, unsure what to do next.

"Go through that door and get your property from the desk clerk," the lawyer whispered. "I'll be right out, as soon as Mrs. Walker's case is called. Then we can talk."

It must have been Daniel who'd gotten her the lawyer, if the man was waiting for Lila's name to be called. She went out a different door than the one she'd entered, stepping into a two-story lobby. A uniformed desk clerk motioned her over. "Name?" he asked politely.

She told him, adding, "I didn't have any property." He pushed a bag across the counter. Peeling the self-stick flap open, she peered in. She'd forgotten her shoes and her driver's license in her impatience to see Daniel. Hurriedly, she slipped the white sandals on and returned the rubber ones. She was free.

"There's a pay phone right around the corner, so you can call a ride, ma'am." His smile seemed out of place after two days of CO Nelson's angry glares. Was he so polite because of the lawyer? She walked slowly in the direction he'd pointed, looking anxiously around at the people milling about.

"Cynda!"

She turned to see Daniel striding toward her, Colton a half-step behind. She stumbled in their direction. After spending two days in the confined space, it seemed her legs had forgotten how to work, but her heart did double duty.

"Where's Lila?" Colton demanded.

"They might be goin' in alphabetical order," she managed to squeak out. Daniel stood close enough that she could inhale his scent, but his expression seemed wary. Of course, if she could smell him, that meant—

"They wouldn't let us take showers." She took a step back, longing to throw her arms around him, but feminine embarrassment at the way she surely smelled prevented that.

"Why not?" Daniel demanded.

"Blame that one on me."

Cynda whirled. Colton and Lila stood behind them, holding hands.

Before she could speak, she caught sight of the lawyer, adjusting his tie. He cleared his throat, getting the group's attention. "I'll get started right away on having these charges dismissed, Dan. Those addresses your brother got will help me find witnesses who saw what happened."

"Thank you, Went. I appreciate that." Daniel stuck out a hand. Colton added his thanks and as the man reached to shake their hands, Cynda and Lila exchanged a glance.

"No," Lila announced. "Oh, hell no. I want my day in court."

"What she said," Cynda agreed, nodding vigorously. Lila held out a fist. Cynda grinned, bumping hers against Lila's.

"What Eric said." Daniel slapped Colton on the back. Cynda saw the look that passed between the brothers but she was confused because Eric was nowhere in sight. "I'll be in touch about that," he added, speaking to the puzzled-looking lawyer.

Confusion deflated the bubbling excitement Cynda felt over being released when he turned away. Daniel strode through the lobby, barely pausing to hold the door open. She passed by him uncertainly, her heart dropping when he refused to meet her gaze. In the parking lot, he didn't wait for her, his long strides widening the distance between them with each step. He pointed his remote, unlocking the doors to his truck, threw a hand up at his brother and Lila before veering around the other side, for the first time not helping her climb into his vehicle. This was about more than the fact she smelled like a sailor, Cynda decided, shrinking against her door.

"I left Eric running the shop," he stated, shoving the key into the switch with one hand. With the other, he slammed the door so hard the truck rocked. "Not always a good thing. I'm going to drop you back at your grams' and—"

"Fine," Cynda snapped. Prickles of humiliation marched up her neck, making her think about the dark-fleshed peach. That in turn made her feel stupid for sitting in that cell, longing for him. What kind of spell had she been under? He made her sign her body over to him and in return, she'd become so enmeshed in the raw feelings he evoked and the way he manipulated her body, she'd forgotten this was nothing more than a game to him. She stared numbly out her window. Shame seemed to shrink-wrap the film of grime on her skin, making it feel too tight for her body. She was so naive when it came to men; she always saw what she wanted to see, and not what they were. It wasn't her fault she'd gotten arrested and he'd been cheated out of a couple of days of sex. "Who do I owe for the lawyer?" Her lips felt numb but she forced out the words.

"I took care of that."

Neither of them said a word the rest of the way to Grams'. Cynda jumped out of the truck as soon as it stopped moving, dashing up the walk, too well aware of the way her grandmother's house must look to him.

Grams stood just inside the door when Cynda burst in. Her blank eyes didn't stop her from reaching out to touch Cynda's wet cheeks. "My baby girl. I'm so proud of you, Cynda, I don't know what to say. You done a good thing, honey chile, facin' down that buncha no-good scallywags." Cynda leaned her head on Grams' shoulder, feeling a fresh storm of tears trying to build. Grams rubbed her back and whispered in her ear. "I got to go sign some papers with your friend Daniel. It smells to me like you need a shower, and you prob'ly could use a nice long nap in your own bed. I'll be back afterwhile."

He's making Grams pay for my legal fees?
No, if Grams knew Cynda had been in jail, her grandmother would've demanded to repay him. In trying to make things better, she'd only made them worse. Cynda felt so dried out and hollow, she couldn't even cry.

* * * *

Dan turned his truck into the shop parking lot, peering into the raised bay doors as he drove slowly past, noting one car on a lift. One of the hired guys, Scott, was under it. Jonah was sweeping the front sidewalk and threw up a hand. Returning the kid's wave, he cut the wheel and headed around back, reversing into his usual space beside Eric's truck. Colton's space was empty. Jamming the gearshift into neutral, Dan gave the park brake a vicious shove with his foot.

After Cynda ran into the house, he'd taken Miss Coralinne to talk to the attorney about the reverse mortgage. He'd hoped to talk to her before the meeting with his banker, but the faded silver Volkswagen hadn't been parked beside the small house he'd just made arrangements to buy. He kept telling himself she'd just been tired and cranky this morning.

Everything he'd thought of to say to her had flown out of his head the minute the pair of them had refused to let the lawyer get their charges dismissed.

He looked impatiently at the time. Lila's appointment would've long since been over. If his brother had been worried for nothing, Colton would've come in to the shop, he figured. Dan dialed him again, but Colton's phone was still turned off. Slinging his cell into the seat, he slammed his door and hurried into the garage, in time to hear Scott, yell.