Kris had thought the whole thing was patently ridiculous as he wrote it. It seemed so laughable that he'd stopped writing at least four or five times, trying to figure out how in the world to add a little realism to the scene. The impossible scenario was supposed to encourage the woman's daughter, who'd watched her mother's forced submission, to seek Sir Quigley out voluntarily, lest she be embarrassed in public as well. Each time he had added to the goofy scene, it had seemed less believable. Especially because the crew of "The Ugly Mermaid" seemed more like that of the Pirates of Penzance than real pirates. It confused him that he could remember the musical, but not where or when he'd seen it.
He was still thinking about it as someone sat down across from him in his booth. He looked up from his plate to see Mitch Connel settling into the seat.
"Morning," he said, automatically.
"No place else to sit," commented Mitch.
Kris wondered if that meant the lawman didn't want to sit with a suspect, or if it was merely an apology for forcing his presence on a lone diner. He decided to take the middle road.
"You're welcome any time," he said.
"Well thanks," said Mitch, his eyebrows rising. "A lot of people don't have that kind of attitude toward me."
"Don't know why," said Kris. "You're just doing the job they hired you to do."
"Yeah, well, they all seem to want me to enforce the law on everybody else ... but not them." He grinned. "So, how have things been going? I hear you got a job."
"I did," said Kris. The fact that the man knew about that probably meant he knew what that job was too, so he didn't bother to elaborate. "It gives me time to write, in between duties."
"So, what are you writing?" asked Mitch.
"Be right with you," said Lou Anne as she breezed by. Mitch just waved at her.
"It's a romance novel ... sort of," said Kris.
"Sort of?"
"It's ridiculous and stupid and completely impossible," said Kris. "But it's what I'm writing."
"So write something else," suggested Mitch.
"I wish I could remember what I usually write about," sighed Kris.
"What if you usually write romance novels with completely impossible plots?"
"That can't be," said Kris. "If I had been doing this for a living, I would have put myself out of my misery long ago."
"It can't be that bad," said Mitch.
So Kris told him about the plot of the book and the latest scene in it. By the time he was finished, Mitch was smiling widely.
"Hell, I'll buy a copy of that one myself!" he exclaimed.
"You've got to be kidding," said Kris.
"Sounds kind of titillating to me," said Mitch, shrugging his shoulders. "It's every man's dream, to have access to all those women and to be able to control them and get whatever he wants, whenever he wants it."
"That's what makes it so stupid," said Kris. "Nothing like this could happen in real life."
"That's why they call it fiction," said Mitch, grinning again.
They were interrupted briefly by Lou Anne, who set down a coffee cup, filled it, and took Mitch's order before moving on. She didn't write anything down, only repeating it to Mitch, who nodded his head. She yelled something to Hank that was obviously some kind of code for what Mitch had ordered and got a grunt in reply.
"I don't know how the ladies will feel about your book, though," said Mitch, sipping his coffee. "I can't think of any women I know who would be into being subdued, in public, and then being led to slaughter like a lamb."
"I guess I'll find out tonight," said Kris. "Lou Anne will tell me if I'm off base with it."
"Lulu?" Mitch looked surprised. "You let her read this stuff?"
"She's kind of my self-appointed editor," said Kris. "Not that I mind. She's actually pretty good at it. I don't know how I can tell that, but I know she is."
"I'd think that could be very dangerous," said Mitch. "She's a very opinionated woman and her response to things she finds objectionable is legend in this town."
"She's the one who came up with the plot idea," said Kris. "A lot of what's happening in the book is because of her suggestions."
"You have
got
to be kidding me," said Mitch, his jaw dropping. "Our Lulu?"
"She's a very passionate woman," said Kris.
Mitch sat back in the booth, staring at Kris. "Brother, I have just got to learn more about you. You show up out of the blue, mostly dead, with a gunshot wound. You can't remember anything and yet, within a space of weeks, you have one of the most formidable women in town eating out of your hand, and are writing what sounds like an interesting book."
"She's not eating out of my hand," objected Kris. "She just has some ideas. We work well together, that's all."
"Have you kissed her yet?" asked Mitch, looking interested.
"Of course not!" exclaimed Kris. "What kind of man do you think I am?"
"I don't know," said Mitch candidly. "That's one of the things that makes you so interesting." He grinned. "Besides, kissing a woman isn't anything close to what you described in your book. I pity the man who tries something like that with Lulu. The man who slaps
her
on the ass will likely lose his whole arm, but a guy might be able to get away with a little kiss."
"She's not like that at all!" objected Kris.
"You don't know her like I know her," said Mitch.
"I've been spending most evenings at her place," said Kris. "She lets me use her old computer to write on. She doesn't have an unkind bone in her body. And I slapped her on the butt and still have my arm." He held out his right arm, before he realized what he'd just said. He jerked it back and looked around, as if to see who might have overheard him. Then he looked back at Mitch, who had an odd look on his face. "I shouldn't have said that," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "It just kind of happened while I was caught up in writing. You can't tell anybody I told you that."
"What did she do?" asked Mitch, looking interested and leaning forward. "When you did that, I mean."
"I shouldn't have said anything," insisted Kris.
"I hear deep dark secrets every day," said Mitch, who might actually hear a deep dark secret once every other month or so, but didn't feel at all bad about massaging the truth in this case. "You could write a whole book, based on the secrets I know and have never told."
"If I did that they wouldn't be secrets anymore," said Kris, trying to change the subject.
"Come on," wheedled Mitch. "I won't tell anybody. And I'm not going to give you the information for that book either. It was just my way of telling you I can keep my mouth shut. I'm just interested, that's all. Lulu is a fascinating woman."
"I thought you had a girlfriend," said Kris, still trying to avoid answering the question.
"I do. We're in more of a habit than a relationship, though. She wants to get married and have babies and all that. I'm not quite there yet. We've broken up four or five times. I still don't understand why we get back together each time." He smiled. "There. I told you one of my secrets. Come on, I'm just curious, that's all. I've known Lulu since she got here and in all that time I've never seen her display any interest in a man at all. Sometimes I wonder how she got pregnant with Ambrose in the first place."
"That's a horrible thing to say!" complained Kris.
"Just my observations, that's all," said Mitch. "Come on. What did she do? Did she throw something at you?"
"She didn't assault me, if that's what you're thinking," said Kris. "Don't think I'm going to tell you something that would get her arrested, because that's not going to happen."
"I didn't mean it like that," insisted Mitch. "My curiosity is purely personal."
"You thinking about switching girlfriends?" asked Kris. Mitch's description of his "relationship" suggested it wasn't purely monogamous.
"Not for Lulu," said Mitch, leaning back. "I don't think I'm man enough for that one." He grinned. "Though I
am
trained in self defense, as you obviously must be if you're still walking around upright after slapping her on the ass."
"It wasn't like that at all," said Kris. "She just told me I shouldn't have done it."
"That's it? She just
told
you ... with only her voice?"
"It was very civil," said Kris.
Mitch was silent for a moment. It was obvious he was thinking hard.
"Well, brother, you'd better strike fast while the iron is hot, because if all she did was talk to you, she's interested."
"I don't think so," said Kris. "She was probably just being polite to a slightly deranged man."
"Lulu isn't polite to anybody who pisses her off," said Mitch.
They were interrupted in their discussion by the object of it, who delivered Mitch's pancakes, eggs and sausage by sliding it from the end of the table with a shove as she walked by. She had two other plates in her arms and the ubiquitous coffee pot in her other hand. The plate came to a stop dead in front of Mitch, who was staring at her. She looked over her shoulder at him as she went on to another booth and relieved herself of the other two plates. On the way back, she stopped, looking at Mitch, who was still staring at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Me?" Mitch looked nervous suddenly. "Nothing."
"You were staring at me," said Lou Anne. "What's wrong? That's what you ordered."
"It is," said Mitch, looking down at his plate and then back up at her. His face changed. "Why wouldn't I stare at you? You're easy on the eyes, Lulu."
"Save it for Carla, Mitch," snorted Lou Anne. Her eyes moved to Kris. "You need anything else?"
"I'm fine," said Kris. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," she said and was off again.
Kris looked back at Mitch, who was now staring at him now, instead of the waitress.
"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle," said Mitch. "She
likes
you!"
"She was just being polite," said Kris, feeling uncomfortable.
"Lulu never says, 'You're welcome'," said Mitch. "Not like that."
"You're reading things into her actions," said Kris.
They were interrupted again as Jessica appeared at their table.
"Move over, Mitch," she said. "Lulu said I could sit here. She says you're misbehaving again and I should keep an eye on you."
"Me?" said Mitch, sounding wounded. "All I did was say she was easy on the eyes."
"You're an incorrigible flirt," said Jessica. "I don't know why Carla puts up with you."
"That makes two of us," said Mitch, happily. "Please, do sit down."
He moved over and Jessica slid into the booth. She looked over at Kris. She fixed her eyes on him.
"I'm glad I got this chance to see you," she said. "I wanted to make sure you were perfectly clear about not saying anything about what you saw the other night."
"Of course," said Kris, feeling his face get hot.
"What?" asked Mitch, looking from one to the other. "What did he see?"
"Nothing," said Jessica firmly. "Isn't that right, Kris?"
"Absolutely," said Kris.
She turned back to Mitch. "See? He didn't see anything."
"That's what they all say," said Mitch, looking thoughtfully at Kris.
Chapter Sixteen
Lola Henderson may have been blond and ditzy, but she wasn't completely stupid. And sometimes her personal idiosyncrasies, while annoying to others, worked in her favor. For example, there had been a night when she'd wanted to go out and Kris had told her he had to work.
"I have to turn in an article at Miffen and Combs in the morning, and it's not quite finished yet," he'd said.
Being the insecure woman she was, Lola had looked up Miffen and Combs in the phone book, to make sure it actually existed. Now, after her abortive attempt to get the police to find Kris, she'd taken the desk sergeant's advice. She stood, looking up at a steel and glass structure that seemed pretty fancy to be in the business of publishing obscure journals. It was also in a pretty ritzy part of town.
She felt better when, by consulting a six foot tall directory on a granite wall, she found out that Miffen and Combs only took up one floor of the building. She took the elevator, examining a chip in one of her French tips on the way up.
The elevator doors opened into a small waiting vestibule, with a half circle desk, a slim well-dressed brunette seated behind it.