Читать книгу Be My Valentino - Sandra D. Bricker - Страница 12

Chapter 5

5

Jessie glanced over at Danny seated next to her on the floor behind Kaye Slaughter’s sofa. She could almost read his mind, and it tickled her somehow.

How did I let her talk me into this again?

As if on cue, he sighed. “I don’t know why I keep letting you talk me into coming along on stakeouts.”

“Uh, because I’m good company and I help you solve cases?” she ribbed, rolling her eyes at him dramatically. “And I brought snacks. What do you want? Chocolate chip cookies or corn chips?”

He tried to resist and make a point, she could tell. She giggled when he surrendered. “Corn chips.”

She pulled out a snack bag and handed it over before opening the zipped plastic bag of cookies. “So what’s your gut feeling?” she asked. “You think anybody’s really going to show?”

Danny leaned against the back of the sofa and shrugged. “I don’t know. But I have a hard time buying Kaye as a doddering old woman who doesn’t remember washing a load of towels.”

“Yeah. She strikes me as pretty sharp,” she remarked before stuffing a whole cookie into her mouth. “Kick the cooler over here, will you?”

Danny snagged the strap of the cooler with the toe of his shoe and maneuvered it toward her.

“This floor is getting cold,” she said, producing a can of root beer. When she popped the top, Danny shushed her. “Sorry.”

She took a couple of chugs from the can and handed it to Danny. “Share?” He downed half the liquid inside before passing it back to her. A soft rumble drew her attention, and she nearly lost her grasp on the soda. “What is that?”

“Excuse me,” he offered, tapping the center of his chest with a closed fist.

“Not that, silly. That sound. I think it’s coming from the kitchen.”

Danny glared a hole into her. “The garage.”

“It’s coming from the garage?”

“It is the garage. The door is going up. Stay here.”

Before she could even reply, Danny shifted and popped off the floor. He disappeared around the other side of the sofa, and Jessie shimmied to her knees and peered over the back of it.

“Get. Down.” he whisper-yelled at her. “I mean it. Stay put.”

“Okay, okay.” She slowly lowered herself, but then snapped back up again. “Where are you going? Do you have a gun or a knife or something?”

At the corner near the kitchen, Danny turned back and looked at her. The odd expression he flashed elicited a snicker that she barely caught with both hands over her face.

“Well,” she managed over the hushed giggles, “you have to defend yourself.”

“Jessie,” he hissed, slicing his hand through the air.

“Okay. Okay.”

Crouched behind the sofa where she’d been relegated, Jessie only saw the reflection of the kitchen light as it turned on.

“Mind telling me what you’re doing?” Danny called.

The question was immediately followed by a crash and the strange sounds of a scuffle. When someone groaned, Jessie popped to her feet in an instant. She bounced from the ball of one foot to the other, her heart racing and all the nerve endings in her body crackling with electricity. When another groan sounded—this one definitely Danny—she grabbed a carved elephant sitting on an end table and raced into the kitchen ready to clock someone if necessary.

When she reached the doorway to the kitchen, clutching the elephant by the trunk and holding it in the air, Danny had already pinned the intruder to the marble floor, face down, and held him there with both hands.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “How did you get this?”

Jessie craned her neck until she spotted a garage door remote on the floor next to them.

“I found it.” The creaky little voice of the lanky man under Danny came out in puffs.

“Try again . . .” he said, yanking the wallet out of the man’s back pocket. He flipped it open and added, “Brandon Rucks.”

“All right. Will you get off me so I can breathe, man? No kidding, I need some air.”

“Better talk fast then. What are you doing here? And how long have you been letting yourself into a house that doesn’t belong to you?”

“Th-three months,” he sputtered, and Jessie inched closer.

Danny eased up on the guy and rolled him over to his back. Leaning over and glaring into his face, he asked, “Why?”

Brandon squirmed beneath him and groaned. “Let up, would you? I can’t breathe.”

Danny backed away and stood, extending his hand. As Brandon Rucks accepted it, allowing Danny to tug him to his feet, Jessie realized their intruder was just a string bean of a disheveled, dark-haired boy with torn jeans and well-worn tennis shoes.

“How old are you?” she asked, and Brandon jerked toward her. “You can’t be more than sixteen.”

“Seventeen,” Danny answered for him, holding up the kid’s wallet.

“Who are you people?” Brandon snapped.

“I’m in charge of the questions,” Danny reminded him. “Tell us what you’re doing here.”

Brandon glared at the worn toe of his old shoe. “The only job I could get is part-time at one of the resorts in town. They put a roof over my head most weekends, but I don’t have any place to stay during the week.”

“So you thought you’d squat here.”

“It’s only for a few more weeks. Until I save enough for first month’s rent on a studio in Fawnskin.”

“Not a few more weeks, buddy,” Danny said. “Not even a few more hours. You can’t just break into somebody’s house and make like you live there.”

“And steal their jewelry,” Jessie added.

“I only took the one necklace,” he reasoned.

Danny lightly smacked the boy’s arm. “Only?”

“I was gonna put it back in a couple of weeks.”

“That necklace is very important to the owner of this home,” Jessie told him. “You need to hand that over right now.”

“I can’t. I hocked it.”

Jessie’s heart dropped. She imagined some greasy guy—not unlike that Chaz Decker who bought her engagement ring—drooling over the amethyst pendant Kaye had described. The difference being it had been given to her by someone precious; not a duplicitous faux husband.

“Where?” Danny’s question catapulted Jessie back to the moment.

“Valley Pawn, down the hill.”

“The one in Yucaipa?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a ticket on it in here?” Danny asked as he opened Brandon’s wallet again. “This it?” he asked, holding up a yellow receipt.

“Yeah. I just did it so I could eat. And gas up the bike.” Danny tucked the receipt into his pocket, and the kid sighed. “You gonna call the cops on me?”

Jessie expected a resounding, “Absolutely!” But Danny hesitated before answering. “No.”

“No?” Brandon yelped. “Are you kidding? That’s cool, man. You’re really cool.”

“But that courtesy is going to cost you,” he qualified. “You’re going to get out of here now—right now, tonight—and you’re not ever coming back. Do you know how I know this? Because I’ve got your information and I won’t hesitate for one L.A. minute to turn you in if I ever get even the slightest scent on the wind that you’ve been within a mile of this place. Do you read me?”

Jessie stifled the grin threatening to break into the seriousness Danny had created in the moment.

“Yes.”

“Which resort are you working at?”

Brandon grimaced. “Ah, come on, man. I need that job bad. There’s a chance I could go full-time when we get closer to the winter season.”

“I’m not gonna mess that up for you, kid. Although I probably ought to. Just tell me where you work.”

“The Summit.”

Danny nodded, and Jessie wondered where he might be going with his line of questioning.

“I know somebody with cabin rentals near The Summit. I’ll call him and see if I can’t put a roof over your head for a month until you can get into your Fawnskin studio.”

Brandon looked from Danny to Jessie and back again. “You serious?”

Danny pulled his cell phone out and gave the kid a nod. “You get this place cleaned up while I call. There’s a broom and dustpan in the garage. But of course you know where everything is around here, don’t you?”

Brandon lowered his head to camouflage a nervous chuckle.

Jessie watched Danny carefully as he spoke into the phone in a hushed tone, reminded again that his kindnesses to her in the beginning of their relationship hadn’t just been a case of isolated pity. Danny was seemingly empathetic to everyone enduring hard times, deserving or not, who crossed his path.

When he disconnected the call and moved back toward her, she touched him on the arm, and he shot her a quick nod with a questioning cock of his eyebrow.

“Sometimes I forget how kind you are,” she admitted.

He dismissed it with a sniff and a lopsided smile, then he shook his head.

“All right,” he directed at Brandon as the kid swept up the last of the mess. “Finish up there and I’ll drive you into town. You’ve got a place to stay, but in return you’ll do some odd jobs that need doing around the place. Before you tell me if you have anything to say about that, let me remind you people are doing you a favor here. So . . . do you have anything to say?”

“Yes,” the boy replied seriously. Jessie could hardly believe his gall.

“Then let’s hear it.”

He lifted his gaze to meet Danny’s and murmured, “Thank you.”

* * *

“Where have you guys been?” Allie exclaimed as Danny and Jessie walked through the door. “We were worried you got murdered and cut up into tiny pieces or something.”

Jessie grinned at her. “Well, thanks for your concern.”

“Did you at least catch the bad guy?”

“We did,” Jessie replied. “And Danny rehabilitated him as well.”

“What’s that mean?” Allie asked, her gaze darting between the two of them.

“Long story,” Danny commented. “Where’s your pops?”

“He’s out building up the fire in the pit while I look for the marshmallows.”

Danny pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “In the pantry. Top shelf.”

“You got any graham crackers? We could make s’mores.”

“Also in the pantry.”

Jessie waited for Allie to disappear around the corner before moving close and facing Danny. “That was really nice what you did for Brandon.”

“Somebody had to. The kid was headed for lockup.”

“Yeah, but . . . people are always saying somebody should do something,” she told him tenderly. “You seem to be the one who actually does.”

Danny’s eyes turned smoky as he looked down at her and graced her with half a smile. Without thinking it through, Jessie tucked her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him close enough to plant a kiss on his warm lips.

When they parted, she smiled at him. “I just think you’re . . . extraordinary.”

“I like you very much, too,” he teased.

“Are you going to call Kaye and tell her you solved her mystery?”

“I want to stop in Yucaipa on our way back Tuesday and see if I can get her necklace first.”

“That would be an added piece of good news, wouldn’t it?”

“I think it would.”

“Hey, you guys,” Allie shouted at them from the other side of the room. “We’ve got everything we need for s’mores. Are you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Danny told her, his eyes trained on Jessie. “I do love a good s’more.”

Jessie giggled, and she slipped her hand inside his as they headed through the glass doorway to the deck.

By the time the last embers in the copper fire pit dwindled down to nothing and far too much chocolate, marshmallow, and graham crackers had been warmed and consumed, Jessie felt more than ready for her head to fall on a pillow. Unfortunately, all that sugar had other effects on Allie. The girl chattered all the way down the hall and into the bedroom, throughout their turns in front of the bathroom sink, after pajamas had been donned, lights turned off, blankets tucked under chins. Yes, Allie was still talking.

“. . . and I told her it wasn’t going to work like that. She had to play hard-to-get and not let him think she liked him, you know? Boys get a head full when they think a girl likes them, don’t you think so?”

Jessie yawned. “I think it depends on the boy, honey.”

“You think so? I never met a boy who didn’t get a head full when he found out for sure.”

“You know what, Allie?”

“What?”

“I’m really tired. I don’t want to be rude, but I can’t stay awake another minute.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. You’re going paddleboarding with us, aren’t you?”

“Mm . . .”

The next thing Jessie knew, the sun had pushed its way through the window and flooded the whole bedroom. The bed Allie had occupied the night before sat conspicuously empty under a heap of disheveled blankets. Jessie made up both the beds before she dressed and ventured down the long hallway to the living spaces of the house. Through the glass, she spotted Danny lounging on the deck, reading a newspaper, and sipping from a cup of coffee. She stopped in the kitchen and poured herself a cup before joining him.

“Good morning.”

He looked up and broke into a full grin when he saw her. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock.” Once Allie quit talking, anyway.

“Good. Interested in paddleboarding with Riggs and Al after breakfast?”

“Ha!” she croaked. “I don’t think so. I have a hard enough trouble staying upright on dry land. A surfboard is so far out of my element.”

“It’s not like surfing. It’s much calmer. I think you might enjoy it.”

“How much balance do you need?”

“Well, some,” he teased. “But . . . minimal in comparison to surfing.” He paused while she thought it over. “I brought a nice long board that works well for beginners. Give it a try.”

She nibbled the corner of her lip before shrugging one shoulder. “Okay.”

Two hours later, Jessie thought better of the casual agreement as Danny fed her instructions from a board adjacent to hers.

“You’re always going to grip the paddle with one hand at the end and the other holding the center of the shaft. Like this.”

Her knees ached as she examined his demonstration. “When can I stand up? My knees hurt.”

He chuckled. “Get up one foot at a time and stay in the middle of the board.” As she pushed upright, he added, “Good. That’s right. Wait!”

Too late. Her other foot slipped over the side of the paddleboard, and she fell off into the water. When she breached the surface again, Danny, Allie, and Riggs were cackling like irritating hens.

“It’s all right,” Danny told her. “Just climb back on and try again. Keep your feet parallel this time.”

She groaned, not really wanting to try again. However, on her third attempt, she found herself standing, balanced, and paddling along next to Allie. She now felt pretty happy she’d stuck with the efforts to stand upright.

The sun’s noontime rays cut through the tangle of leaves hanging from the border of trees, playing glittery tricks on the smooth surface of the water. Jessie dipped the paddle into the lake with the blade angled away from her and pushed it through the water. With her hands firmly in place, she lifted it to the other side of the board and repeated the action, not even trying to suppress the happy giggle that bubbled up from inside.

“Check you out,” Riggs called to her with a nod. “Lookin’ good!”

“I think I’ve got it, right?”

A couple of kayaks brimming with rowdy teenagers rounded the curve. The ruckus distracted Jessie for just a moment, and she nearly lost her balance before recovering.

“Hey, Dad! I’ll race you,” Allie called out, and she and Riggs took off across the lake as if sliding on glass.

Danny navigated his board closer to Jessie’s as they moved out from under the shade of the trees. When the golden sunlight found him, the blonder sections of his multifaceted hair kindled into blazing streaks. His gray tee and long black shorts took on a silvery glint, and he lowered the sunglasses from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose.

“You know what I was thinking?” he asked, completely unaware of how weak in the knees just the sight of him left her.

“What’s that?”

“During the spring and summer months, you can take the ski lift to the top of the mountain. What do you think of grabbing some lunch and taking it up?”

“Really? That sounds like fun. I should probably change clothes though—”

“Why? You look beautiful.”

“Lies,” she muttered with a laugh, adding, “I look like a drowned rat.”

“I like the wet look.”

She self-consciously ran one hand through her wet locks. “Oh, hush.”

Danny cupped one hand around the side of his mouth and called out, “Riggs! . . . Hey, Riggs!” When his friend turned back toward him, he shouted, “We’re heading back. See you later.”

An hour later, while Jessie pushed her damp hair back into a loose ponytail and changed into dry clothes, Danny put together a quick picnic lunch in the kitchen. Just as they headed for the door, however, Jessie’s cell phone buzzed from inside her handbag.

“Sorry,” she said as she checked the screen. “It’s Amber calling from the store. I need to take it.”

“Go ahead.”

Jessie pressed the talk button as she headed back into the kitchen. “Amber?”

“Hi, Jessie. I’m so sorry to bother you while you’re on your getaway.”

“It’s fine. What’s up?”

“You’ll never believe who just called the store for you.” Amber didn’t give her time to guess. “Perry Marconi.”

“The—?”

“Stylist to the Hollywood stars!” she blurted. “Yes. That Perry Marconi.”

“He asked for me?” Jessie clarified.

“Yes. He has two clients presenting at the Legacy Awards, and another one nominated!” Jessie’s mind raced with musings on what this had to do with her, but Amber ran her thoughts right off the track. “Guess who it is. The one who’s nominated.”

“I have no—”

“Carolyn Coleman, that’s who!”

“Carolyn Coleman . . .” Jessie had seen every movie the glamorous Carolyn Coleman had ever made. From her beginnings as a teenaged starlet in black-and-white classic movies to her long-running television show in the eighties, the woman had aged with more grace than any of her counterparts. “Wait. Amber. What does this have to do with Adornments?”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“No, you’re not. Sit down.”

“Okay.” Still standing. “Tell me.”

“Perry Marconi wants to work with you to style all three of them.”

Jessie backed up to the counter and leaned on it. “He . . . I’m sorry. What?”

“It turns out he’s a friend of Courtney’s,” Amber exclaimed. “Since Courtney’s already off to London to pick up her new little girl, he said she told him you’re the only one he should work with!”

Since the day tiny Courtney Alexis with the contradictory deep, raspy voice walked into Adornments on the day of the opening, she’d been changing Jessie’s life, one opportunity at a time. They’d collaborated on offering styling sessions at the store; then she brought Jessie and Amber onboard to write guest columns for her fashion mega-blog. The two had become great friends, bonding even beyond their love of fashion and the pending adoption of Courtney’s beautiful baby girl. And now this.

“I’m so glad you called and told me, Amber. This is such great news.”

“It’s epic,” she shouted. “The only thing is . . . he wants to meet with you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I told him you were away and could meet with him midweek, but I could hear him waning, and I was afraid we’d lose him. So I said I’d call you and—”

“You did the right thing. Hang on.” Jessie hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room just as Danny came through the front door. Covering the mic with her hand, she winced and tried to convert it to a smile. “Danny? Would you hate me if I asked you to take me home tonight?”

“What happened?”

The alarm crackling in his eyes incited her immediate reaction. “Oh. No. Nothing’s wrong. In fact, something could be very right. A great opportunity for me, but I have to take a meeting tomorrow.”

He smiled. “We can leave within the hour.”

She hurried toward him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I still need to stop in Yucaipa to get Kaye’s necklace.”

“Yes, of course.”

“But you’ll be back in Santa Monica in time to get a good night’s sleep.”

Jessie squeezed his wrist and shook it. “Thank you!” Before he could reply, she turned her attention back to Amber. “Call him back right away. Ask him to meet me at the store at noon tomorrow. That will you give you and me the morning to strategize. I’ll be there by nine.”

“I’ll bring the coffee.”

* * *

“I feel sick at my stomach every time I think about it, Grampy.”

I was crawled under the kitchen sink workin’ on the pipe, and Jessie got herself up on the counter, sendin’ her words down the drain t’ward me.

“Why you botherin’ with that, girl?” I ask her. “Ain’t nothin’ you kin do ’til tomorrow anyhow.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But I can’t help myself. Can’t think o’ nothin’ else but that dumb old book report I gotta give in front of the whole entire class.”

“You read the book?”

“Yeah.”

“You write up the report?”

“Well, yeah, Grampy, but—”

“But nothin’,” I tells her. “You done all you kin. Now you just wait ’til the time comes, and you stand up there and tell ’em what they need to know. What’s so complicated ’bout it, girl?”

She set there quiet fer a time ’fore she says, “Why you gotta go bein’ all logical ’bout everything anyway?”

“And why you gotta be a worrywart?”

“’Cause, Grampy. That’s how I was made, I guess.”

Sure enough, she had a point there. The girl’d been worryin’ ’bout things she couldn’t change her whole young life. Her mama used to say sometimes she thought if Jessie was an automobile, worry were the gas that made ’er get up ’n go.