Hot Spot (30 page)

WHEN HE REACHED HIS HOUSE, HE WAS GREETED by one of the security guards. "We found them coming across the field west of the house. They claim they climbed under the fence when they found the gate locked."

"Thanks, Zack. Where are they?"

"They're waiting in your kitchen. Stu's watching them."

"THANK GOD YOU'RE here," Kirsty exclaimed as Danny walked into the kitchen, coming to her feet, then sitting back down again after a quick look at Stu. "Tell these two gorillas we're friends."

Danny glanced at Brian, who hadn't moved from his place at the kitchen table. The guy was confident. You had to give him that.

"You don't usually come in under the fence," Danny said. "What's going on?"

"We were riding around in Brian's new car and decided to see what you were doing. The gate was locked so we decided to walk in. That's it. End of story." She jerked her head toward the guards. "Who are these guys?"

"I've had a couple break-ins. I decided to get some security." If they were involved, he wasn't giving away anything. And if they weren't, it didn't matter.

"If we were trying to break in, we would have brought a crow bar instead of a six-pack," Brian said with faint derision. "And whatever you have I don't need."

"They did have a six-pack," Zack noted.

"After Buddy docked, we were looking for something to do," Kirsty said. "We didn't think we'd be treated like criminals," she huffily added. "I've been here a hundred times."

A slight exaggeration, but he got the picture. They were still in their boating clothes, they
had
come during the day. Not necessarily a pass for them if they'd thought he was somewhere else. But still. "Sit tight. I'll be right back." He wanted to check out his office—not that they'd made it that far, but he needed assurance.

"And if we don't?" Brian challenged.

"Then Stu and Curt will have to see that you do."
Don't fuck with me
, he thought. He wasn't in the mood.

It took him five minutes to see that everything in his office was secure, and none of the little snares he'd left behind had been moved. He apologized when he returned to the kitchen, not because he necessarily believed their intentions were innocent, but because he couldn't be sure. "I've never had any problems out here before," he added. "I'm just being careful. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Kirsty puffed up her considerable chest and shot him an indignant glance. "Are we free to leave?"

"Sure. I'll give you a ride to your car."

She opened and shut her mouth, changing her mind about a temper tantrum after calculating the distance to the road. Her sandals weren't meant for walking that half-mile gravel drive.

Brian maintained his above-the-fray aloofness. Danny couldn't decide if it was machismo or something more sinister. He'd be glad when Frank's friend came back from vacation and they could see if Brian had a criminal record.

The ride to Brian's car passed in silence, the three of them in the front seat of his truck, Kirsty doing a little petulant sniff from time to time, Brian maintaining a studied nonchalance. After going through the open gate of his drive, Danny eased over to the side of the county road, caught a glimpse of Brian's car, and felt all his suspicions return.

The Porsche had been left well out of sight behind a stand of junipers. That choice of parking places didn't exactly tip the scales in favor of Brian's innocence. He could have chosen to leave his car on either side of the driveway. There was plenty of space.

Before Danny had come to a halt, Brian had the door open. His feet were on the ground before the truck rolled to a stop, and he strode away without a backward glance. Left to fend for herself, Kirsty snapped, "Thanks for nothing," and followed Brian.

Not that he cared what Kirsty thought.

But he was interested in Brian Larson.

He watched the Porsche Boxster back out of the woods and pull away, the black car gliding down the road smooth as silk. So what was that interesting experience all about? The hidden car. Brian's screw-you attitude. The fact that Kirsty never walked anywhere if she could ride. He'd just added a couple more liabilities to the increasing list of problems in his life. Fuck, he hated having problems. What had happened to his easy-going, purposely unentangled life?

Now he had cyber-thieves targeting him.

And Stella Scott burning a hole through his previously fireproof psyche.

It made one think there might actually be honest-to-God retribution for one's sins.

"MEGAN'S BEEN CALLING," AMY ANNOUNCED AS Stella entered the store. "About a hundred times."

"I'll give her a call. Thanks for keeping an eye on things. Take your wages out of the till, and leave me a slip."

Amy gave Stella a sympathetic look. "Men are undependable. Don't worry about it."

Stella looked up from straightening a pile of comics. "Am I that transparent?"

Amy smiled. "You always are. Consider yourself lucky. In a family like mine you learn to never show anything. It saves a lot of hassle."

"He left"—Stella shrugged—"not exactly angry, but something was wrong."

"Don't blame yourself. Men are so into themselves. It has nothing to do with you, believe me. He probably got a call to go and play golf."

Stella thought of questioning Amy's expertise, but decided she'd rather not know how someone so young could be so cynical. Especially now, when her own cynicism was peaking. Dammit, though, she wasn't going to feel guilty. She hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, in terms of wrongness, Danny was probably so off the chart, she didn't want to even think about it. He had to be a drug dealer. And that was the sad and sobering truth.

After Amy left, after she'd answered four very similar questions of why she had run out of ice-cream bars, after she'd refer-eed a fight over who was the coolest dude in
X-Men—
Wolverine naturally—she returned Megan's call.

Before Megan had uttered more than three sentences, Stella knew she was going to need full-body armor to protect her from the giddy happiness buffeting her across the phone lines. Especially now with her own life a mess. Trying not to freak out was going to require nerves of steel.

"And besides him buying me the entire set of
Seinfeld
shows, Buddy brought the boat in early so the kids wouldn't miss the new
Lion Something
movie, and he drove them there while I made lasagna that he says is his absolute favorite," Megan breathlessly exclaimed. "And—and"—another breath was required—"you can't imagine what we're going to do tomorrow. Not in a millions years. Guess!" Apparently immune to the contradiction, she added, "You'll never guess!"

"Okay, I give up," Stella said, taking the easy way out.

"Buddy invited the kids and me to go to Valley Fair! Can you imagine?"

Actually, she couldn't, no more than she could imagine Buddy, who liked designer silk shirts and linen slacks, riding a Ferris wheel or eating a slurpee. "I can't imagine," Stella replied with complete honesty.

"Well, it's true! He asked me when he drove me home. Where have you been? I've been trying to call you!"

"Down at Crystal's."

"What for?"

"A pork chop on a stick." She wasn't going to go into the rest unless she was under torture. Not when Megan's love life was on cloud nine and her own was in the pits.

"We're going to Valley Fair at ten tomorrow!" Megan went on, reciting their entire schedule for the day with scarcely a pause for breath. "I'm so happy I could scream!" she finished.

She had been screaming, but Stella was happy for Megan. She'd had a couple bad years; she deserved good things happening to her. And if Buddy was including the children in this quasi-courtship, it could mean he was serious. "Take pictures," Stella teased. "I want a complete report of your day."

"You better believe it! I'm bringing my video camera!"

Stella laughed. "The kids must be excited."

"They're going nuts. They love Valley Fair, but you know how expensive it is. You can't run down there too often."

"Buddy can afford it."

"Don't I know it, although that's not why I like him. I would anyway. In fact, sometimes I wish he didn't have so much money. It kind of messes things up. I wouldn't want to think his income might temper my judgment."

"You're pretty stable, kid. That's why you handled all the—"

"Crap from Chad?"

"Yeah. That. So don't worry about your judgment. Look how good your kids are. That's because of you."

"They are good kids, aren't they," Megan said with a mother's pride.

"They're the best. So have a good time tomorrow, and don't worry about anything but having fun."

"Thanks for listening. I'm
so-o-o
excited."

"Not a problem. You've been there for me every time I needed you."

"How
are
things going for you and Danny?"

"Good. Fine. Couldn't be better."

"It looked that way yesterday. Hey, would you two like to join us at Valley Fair? I'm sure Buddy wouldn't mind."

"No thanks. I'm on my usual deadline. But I appreciate the offer."

"Here comes Buddy back from driving the kids! Gotta go!"