He looked up, his handsome face now wrinkled with worry. “What?”
“I’m pretty sure I saw a red Toyota creeping by my house this morning.”
Justin shook his head, as if having a difficult time accepting what I was telling him. “How can you be sure?” he asked me. “It was probably dark out. I mean, it’s just now getting light outside. How can you be sure what you saw? Besides,” he added. “This is a subdivision. All cars go slow.”
“Not slow,” I said, louder than I’d intended. “It was creeping. I know the difference. And I was at the edge of the lawn getting the morning paper when I saw it. I had a pretty clear view.”
Justin’s gaze fell on the gun I’d left on the table. His eyes widened in disbelief. “You were scared enough that you felt you had to have a gun for protection?”
I nodded then met his gaze. “I honestly don’t know why you seem so shocked to learn that I have a gun,” I said. “I’ve always been interested in the same kind of career. Nothing has changed on that since the day we met. And it never will.”
He lowered his eyes, his fingers tracing an imaginary circle on the table. “I guess I’m really not that surprised,” he admitted. “Maybe it just scares me a little to know you can take care of yourself.” He glanced up and smiled. “I guess the male in me just wants you to know I’d do anything I could to protect you.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Justin had never confided those feelings to me before.
I reached over and placed my hand on his. “I know you would, Justin. And I’d do the same for you. But isn’t it just as important that we each learn to protect ourselves as well? We can’t always be dependent on someone else.”
Justin cupped his chin in his hands, as he rested his elbows on the table. He seemed to consider the possibilities for a moment before he spoke. “If this woman was already dead when you saw her at Mr. Black’s house yesterday, then it couldn’t have been her who drove off in the red Toyota.”
“Which means that whoever killed her must have been in the house the same time I was,” I finished. I jerked my head up and opened my eyes wide. “I thought I had heard something upstairs while I was there. And whoever it was knows who I am, which explains why the red Toyota is following me.”
Justin put his hands over mine. “He may have gotten a good look at you, but he couldn’t know who you are,” he said, reassuringly.
I thought back to yesterday morning when I entered the back of Michael Black’s house. I recalled calling out for him and telling him who I was, where I worked, and why I was there.
“I’m afraid he does,” I said with regret. “I sort of blurted it out when I walked into the house. But how was I supposed to know I was walking in on a murder?”
Justin sat up straighter in his chair. “Then the only thing we can do now is let the police know about this.”
My mouth dropped. “And just what are we supposed to tell them? That Michael Black is a murderer? How are we supposed to prove that?” I demanded. “Don’t forget that Mr. Black’s neighbors claim he was out of town the day the woman supposedly died.”
Justin drummed his fingers on the table. “Which gives him a perfect alibi,” he mused.
“Exactly.” I rose from my chair and paced the room. “This whole thing is just too bizarre. I mean, I find a dead woman in Michael Black’s house, call the police who find nothing when they arrive. Then the neighbors swear that Mr. Black left on a business trip the night before, and now the woman turns up floating in a river. We know who the murderer is, but we can’t say anything because I’ve already sent the police on one wild goose chase, and there’s a good chance they wouldn’t believe me now if I did go to them with this information.”
Justin continued his drumming. “It does seem as though your hands are tied. Michael Black must feel like he’s gotten away with murder.”
I nodded in agreement, then, remembering something, joined Justin at the table. “Yeah, but if that is the case, then why is he following me?”
Justin reached out, pulling me into the chair next to him. He took my hands in his and looked pleadingly into my eyes. “Denise,” he said. “Look at yourself. Your hands are shaking. You’re scared to death. Can’t you see now why I don’t want you going into police work? It’s dangerous, and I care about you.”
I sprang from the chair, feeling as though I’d been slapped. “I never said I wouldn’t be scared, Justin. Do you really think the men and women who risk their lives everyday aren’t sometimes scared? Of course they are. Confidence will come with experience. But I could make a difference.” I slammed my fist on the table. “I will make a good investigator, Justin, with or without the approval of you or my parents!”
Justin shrank back and the room grew ominously quiet. Only the hum of the refrigerator penetrated the dismal silence.
I put my head in my hands and combed my hair back with my fingers. Why couldn’t I make him understand? I wondered. Did all law enforcement officials go through the same disharmony, or is it just the women who have to put up with the constant opposition?
A lengthy silence followed before Justin finally broke the silence. “When will your parents be home?” he asked softly.
I leaned against the kitchen sink, peering out the window, seeing nothing. “In a few days,” I mumbled. “Mom called this morning before you got here. Apparently Uncle Bob has been trying to reach me on my cell and became worried when he couldn’t get me. They called to make sure I was okay.”
Justin sighed deeply and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I know you’re not going to like this idea,” he said. “But maybe you should consider staying with your uncle Bob until they get back. After all, he is a private investigator. He might even have some thoughts on how we should handle this situation.”
I spun around. “We?” I asked with surprise.
He turned to face me, his expression grim. He stood and crossed the room to stand next to me, taking my hands in his. “And your uncle Bob,” he added, pointedly.
I started to protest, but I knew Justin might be right. Uncle Bob had the experience to deal with the situation. But right now, the thought of spending time with the man who was responsible for me bussing tables at Winslow’s Diner was not an appealing thought. And if I hadn’t been working at the diner, I wouldn’t have been asked to return the wallet to Mr. Black’s house in the first place, and the name, Angelica Belmont, would mean nothing to me.
Instead of a committal, I hedged a bit. “I’ll think about it,” I said. “And only on the condition that we don’t tell him everything right away.”
Justin started to protest, but I stopped him with a raised hand.
“Now wait,” I said. “We don’t know how he’ll react. He might want to go to the police, and that’s not what I want. Let’s find out what we can before it comes to that.”
He pursed his lips and seemed to consider the proposition. “All right,” he finally agreed. “For now we’ll keep it our little secret. But if anything else out of the ordinary happens, we go straight to your uncle!”
I smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Just one more thing,” I added. “Before we jump to any hasty decisions, let’s just spend the rest of the day together alone. Far away from Michael Black, the diner, and Uncle Bob.”
Justin put his arms around me in a tight embrace. “I’m all for that,” he said. “But you’re not getting off that easy. If any more red Toyotas start following you, the deal is off.”
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I suggested we spend a quiet day alone.”
Justin paid the clerk for the plastic cup of worms, then raised his eyebrow and grinned while he pocketed his change. The smelly bait in one hand, he wrapped my shoulder with the other one. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
We’d left the house soon after I agreed to consider spending time with Uncle Bob. I had slapped a few sandwiches together, tossed a bag of potato chips along with a six pack of soft drinks into a picnic basket, then accompanied Justin outside to his car. As soon as he’d popped the lid on the trunk, I noticed the assortment of fishing poles and tackle.
“For some reason, I pictured us snuggled together in some isolated corner of a movie theater, watching a romantic movie,” I answered.
Of course, I was joking. I knew Justin well enough to realize he’d never sit through a romantic movie. He preferred action movies, which was rather ironic when I thought about it. I was the one with the gun, but yet, I’d rather sit and watch a love story.
Justin started the engine and eased the car onto the highway. “I just figured a day at the lake might be more adventurous for you than sitting in some dark movie theater.”
I jerked my head toward him, my eyes wide. “Are you saying you don’t think of me as the romantic type just because I want to go after the bad guys?” That really hurt. Maybe I didn’t know Justin as well as I thought I did. Or maybe he didn’t know me. Either way, once again I was beginning to wonder what kind of a future we could possibly have together.
Justin rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant at all,” he snapped. He blew out a long breath between pursed lips. “Denise,” he said, “we’re both a little stressed right now. I admit it. I’m worried sick about this thing with Michael Black. But we both promised we wouldn’t talk about it today.” He looked my way and smiled. “Truce?”
I smiled back. “Truce.” I didn’t want to fight. I’d always wondered what would have happened if Justin hadn’t gone off to college right after graduation. Maybe now I had a chance to find out.
“Good. Because I’ve already scouted out a romantic little hideaway near the river for our picnic lunch.” He reached across the seat and put his hand on mine. “This is supposed to be our time together—just the two of us. Let’s make a fresh start, okay? I think we owe it to ourselves.”
“I agree,” I told him. I leaned back against the headrest. At least we’d be alone where we could talk out our problems, I realized. A smile warmed my cheeks when another pleasant thought came to me. Justin thought fishing in a secluded area was romantic. That was a pretty good start.
Justin let out a long breath and turned the steering wheel onto a tree-lined street. “But first I want to show you something. We’ll just need to make a little detour on the way to the lake. So close your eyes until I tell you when to open them.”
I had no idea what he had in mind, but I closed my eyelids anyway, listening to the melodic beat of the music on the radio. With the windows rolled down, the summer breeze slapped playfully against my cheeks.
About five minutes later, I felt the car come to a stop.
“Okay,” Justin said. “You can open them now.”
I opened my eyes in the driveway of a cozy, one-story brick house with wooden shadow boxes beneath the windows. A For Sale sign perched in the parched front lawn. “What’s this?” I asked. “Why are we stopping here?”
Justin held out a set of keys. “It’s my new house,” he said. His proud smile lit up his face. “Wanna have a look inside?” He jingled the keys and smiled even wider.
He yanked the sign from the lawn, then met me at my door and reached for my hand. “I’ll give you the grand tour.” When I stepped out, his arm wrapped around my waist in a comforting gesture.
“It needs a little work,” he said before opening the front door. “The owners were anxious to sell, so I got it for a good price. And it’s close to the school, so I won’t have a long commute to work.” He seemed anxious to have my approval.
“I thought you said you were apartment hunting,” I reminded him. I never dreamed he’d buy a house so quickly.
He grinned. “I lied. I plan to stick around. I want my own place.”
It was definitely a fixer-upper, I realized, when I stepped through the doorway. An overwhelming musty smell entered my nostrils the minute I entered.
“It’s been locked up for a long time,” Justin told me. “I’ll get back over here later this week and open up the windows to let some fresh air in.”
I just nodded, hoping that Justin hadn’t gotten himself into something that was over his head. The living room boasted chipped and peeling green paint. Several bare spots claimed the worn, stained, cream-colored shag carpet in several places.
Justin bent down and pulled a piece of the carpet away from the floor. “This will be easy to fix,” he said. “Look, there’s hardwood flooring underneath it. All I have to do is rip it all out and clean up the existing floor.”
I had to admit, the house did have possibilities. A huge fireplace with a sagging mantel was the focal point in the living room. I could picture Justin and me snuggled together on a cozy rug, sipping hot chocolate in the winter months.
In the kitchen, the appliances were mismatched and out of date. “I don’t even think the stove still works,” Justin admitted, as he pulled open the oven door. “Even if it does, I don’t think I’d trust it. It looks pretty old.”
“You can use a hotplate until you get a stove,” I suggested. “And you’ll need a refrigerator,” I added, indicating the empty space where such an appliance had once been.
My gaze was drawn to the countertops. The Formica appeared to be the original top that came with the house. The speckled green and white coloring was now chipped and stained.
I reached over and turned on the faucet at the kitchen sink.
“I still have to go by and have the utilities turned on,” he explained when no water came out. He stood at the sink and placed his hands behind him on the counter. “Well, what do you think?” he asked, his expression full of pride.
I reached up and opened a cabinet. One hinge had come loose and the door tilted down.
Justin seemed to sense my skepticism. “Okay, it needs a lot of work,” he admitted with a smile. “But it’s my first home.” He turned to me, his smile wide and full of hope. “I’m pretty handy around the house, if I do say so myself. I think I can turn this place into something to be proud of.”
I squeezed his hand. “I know you can,” I told him.
His chest expanded with pride. “I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to help out,” he said. His eyes misted with longing. “I have never given up on us, Denise. I can’t tell you how many times I’d been tempted to call you over the past few years.”
I stared straight ahead. “Why didn’t you?” It was something I’d always wondered, I realized.