“Don’t you want to see the clearance that Gabe sent over?”
Looking up from the interview sheet, I took in Blaine’s bland expression. He looked the same as ever. The front of his brown hair was feathered with the length pulled back into a ponytail. Thick neck, average face. Wore a blue work shirt. All looked normal except that his mouth twitched. “Why?”
“Gabe has a new business stationery.”
“So?” Oh crap. Maybe he had listed Dee as his new assistant or something. I held out my hand. “Let me see it.”
Blaine picked up the fax sheet from his desk and handed it to me.
I looked down and saw a picture of myself centered at the top of the page. It was the picture Dee had taken the night before in Gabe’s home office. My wild, shoulder length, blonde-streaked hair matched the wide-eyed shock in my eyes and tight pull to my mouth. The stained white button-down shirt made me look like I had rolled in the mud days ago. Worst of all, I was holding the large envelope I’d taken from Gabe’s desk and looked guilty. “Pulizzi’s Security and Investigative Services. When you need the real thing, not a TV-sitcom knockoff.” The air evaporated out of my lungs.
Angel leaned in, read over my shoulder, and burst out laughing.
I looked at Blaine. “Get that smile off your face! How many places do you think Gabe sent this to?”
His smile widened. “He sent me a download of the picture in my e-mail. No telling where-all Gabe has sent the picture.”
“Men.” They think they are so funny. I smacked the stack of four clipboards down and went to the coffeemaker at the end of Blaine’s desk. “He probably only sent it to you,” I glanced up at Blaine. “Gabe wouldn’t hurt my business.” Or I didn’t think he would.
“Dee might,” Angel pointed out.
I filled my heart-stamped mug with coffee. “True, and she might be the type to hold a grudge for getting locked in the closet.”
Blaine bounced his gaze between Angel and me, then settled on me. “Who is Dee and what did you do?”
Holding my cup of coffee, I snagged the clipboards. “Angel can fill you in. I’m going to see if the ladies would like to do a group interview or do one at a time. I have a business to run.” Trying to look dignified, I opened the door to the interview room and went in.
I was just finishing up the interviews with my four new clients when Blaine stuck his head in. “Boss, Zoë’s on the phone for you. She’s says it’s urgent and you will want to take the call.”
I jumped up. Things were looking up. All four ladies had signed on for Heart Mates dating packages and Zoë was calling. As soon as I found out where she was hiding, I was making a phone call to Vance and saving Angel’s and my butts. “Thanks, Blaine! Can you take it from here? The ladies have picked the dating packages they want and would like to do a videotape for potential dates to view.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but I was desperate to get to the phone before Zoë hung up.
“Got it covered.” Then he turned to the ladies, smiled, and said, “We could do a group interview video . . .”
His voice trailed off as I shut the door. I didn’t want to lose any more seconds going to my office, so I grabbed the handset from the phone off Blaine’s desk. “Zoë!”
In my ear, Zoë said, “Samantha, I have something of yours, even if it is kinky. Fake diamonds in a vibrator? You’d think a woman who reads romance novels would have better taste.”
Angel came out of my office and sat on the end of Blaine’s desk while I said into the phone, “Zoë, listen, that necklace isn’t—”
Zoë cut me off. “I’m done playing nice, Samantha. If you ever want another diamond-laced orgasm again, tell me R. V. Logan’s real name and address and I’ll return your sex toys. I’ll call back in five minutes.” The phone disconnected. I pulled it away from my ear and stared at the handset.
Angel asked, “What did she say?”
I looked at her. “She said she’ll trade the sex-toy kit with the necklace for R. V. Logan’s real name and address. She’ll call back in five minutes. The woman is crazy.” I slammed the handset down. “She has no idea what she has. She thinks the diamond necklace is fake.” Disgusted, I walked out from behind Blaine’s desk and into my office. I got my purse out and found Vance’s business card.
Angel came in just as I picked up my phone. She asked, “What are you doing?”
“Calling Vance.” That way he could be ready once I had a place to meet Zoë.
Angel reached across my desk to the base of the phone and hung up. “No. You and I will meet Zoë, give her what she wants, then we will take the necklace to Vance. If Zoë sees the cops coming, she’ll run.”
She was crazy enough. God. “Vance can send a plainclothes or—”
“You didn’t get a phone number, Sam. So you’ll have to set up a meeting anyway. Then the police would scare her off. Wackos like Zoë can smell cops. Listen, Sam,” Angel said while keeping her finger on the hang-up button. “No one I called this morning knows who Zoë is. I don’t think she lives in Lake Elsinore. If she rabbits, we’ll never see her again. Zack’s not going to believe that someone stole the necklace from us. We’re in deep shit here.”
She was right. If Zoë took off, we were toast. What would Gabe do? He’d probably set up some kind of sting. Why couldn’t Angel and I do the same thing? The two of us should be able to outsmart one psycho stalker-fan. I pointed out the one flaw that I could see with her plan. “But we can’t give her Vance’s name and address. We already have enough problems without pissing off Vance more. Who do we tell her R. V. Logan is?”
Angel smiled. The first smile I’d seen that day. “I have the perfect candidate. We’ll tell her that Hugh is R. V. Logan.”
I choked on the very idea of Angel’s ex-husband writing a romance novel. “Hugh?”
“Sure. Once we give her the name and get the sex-toy kit back, it won’t matter how fast she figures out we lied.”
When the phone rang again, I snatched it up. “Zoë?”
“Well? Are you ready to deal?”
I fought down a wave of sheer, butt-kicking anger. At first I hadn’t been too sure of Angel’s plan. But now I was ready to take on Zoë Cash. “Yes. I have what you want.”
“Tell me R. V. Logan’s name and address.”
“No way, Zoë. I’ll meet with you and exchange the information for my stuff. Do you know where Smash Coffee is?”
“You are trying my patience, Samantha.” I heard clicking noises in the background, then, “Is that a coffee shop that’s located on Grape Street?”
I guessed that Zoë was on a computer, surfing the Internet to find Smash Coffee. I’d seen Grandpa do that. “Yes. In the Wal-Mart shopping center. Be there in a half hour.”
“Fine. But you’d better have what I want, or you’ll never get your sex toys back.” She hung up.
Angel looked up at me. “I’ll drive.”
Angel parked her Trans Am in front of Smash Coffee and we got out of the car. I glanced in the backseat. “Angel, maybe you should roll up the windows and lock the car.” She had stacks of white folded towels neatly lined up on the seats.
Angel went around the front of the car. “It’s locked, and I have the alarm on. Besides, who would steal plain white towels for a beauty shop? I took those out of my mom’s dryer at her house last night. She must have forgotten she brought them home to wash before she left for the cruise. I’ll drop them off at the shop later today in case they are running low.”
I followed Angel into Smash Coffee. Inside, it had the look of an outdoor patio. The walls were painted a light pecan color and trimmed with glossy white molding. Leafy green plants trailed along the ceiling and the top of the walls to create a sort of jungle effect. The floors had a rough-finish tile that matched the pecan walls. Glass-topped, wrought-iron tables and cushioned chairs were scattered on the left side of the shop.
The right side of the shop had a long counter that rested on several clear glass containers of coffee beans. Behind the counter were rows of sparkling machines, presumably for grinding and making coffee. On the end of the counter stood a nose-high glass bakery case filled with breads and pastries.
My stomach growled.
“Samantha! Angel!” Dominic Danger called over his shoulder. He turned on a noisy machine, then took the tall silver container out and filled a Smash Coffee cup. When he turned to face us, he flashed a smile that advertised his white teeth in his tanned face.
“Hi, Dom.” I looked over at the tables while Angel chatted with Dom. There was a group of four women dressed in work-out clothes, chatting together. They had the worn, sweaty look that suggested they’d done some kind of exercise. Ugh.
A man in jeans and a T-shirt read the paper. He looked familiar. He raised his head and we both recognized each other at the same time. Fireman Bob. I smiled and did a little wave, trying not to think about him looking up my skirt. At least I had my black jeans on today—he couldn’t look up those.
“Samantha, what would you like?” Dom called out. “How about my new Brownie Blaze?”
I didn’t see Zoë. Turning to Dom, I smiled. “I think I have enough of a brownie butt. How about black coffee?”
He grinned. “Caramel nut flavor? No calories.”
I nodded and glanced at my watch. It had been a half hour. Where was Zoë?
Dom went to work behind the counter, filling our orders. “Sam, I was just telling Angel, you have got to see Anastasia. She gets more gorgeous every day. See her pictures there on the counter?”
Sure enough, there was a framed eight-by-ten photo of a gray cat wearing a collar studded with blue sapphires to match her eyes. I rolled my own eyes at Dom’s back. Anastasia was a cat that had been dumped on me as a kitten. After she peed all over me.
It had taken me a while, but I finally found her a perfect home. Dominic Danger adored the kitten. Anastasia lived like a princess with Dom, even getting regular pedicures.
I looked over to Angel to see her reaction.
She ignored the picture. “Do you think Zoë will show?” She looked around the room, then her gaze returned to the fireman. “Be right back.”
With mixed feelings, I watched her go over to chat with Fireman Bob. Bob was bringing in new clients, and I had signed him only yesterday. What if Angel liked him? What if he dropped out of my dating service?
What if he made Angel happy?
“Samantha!” Zoë burst through the door. “Oh, you are still here! I was afraid you would leave. I’ve been shopping.”
Uh-huh. She had exchanged her green cargo pants for a bright orange crepe skirt that she wore with her sleeveless yellow muscle shirt. I needed my sunglasses to look directly at her. “Zoë, I’m not leaving until I get back the property that you stole from me this morning.”
“You’ll get it back when I get what I want.” She swept to the counter. “I’d like some green tea, please.”
Dom looked her over. “That blend of colors looks marvelous on you.”
“Oh.” Zoë blinked, then added, “Thank you. I . . . ah . . . wore it for someone special.”
Dom nodded as he began steeping the green tea for Zoë. “Excellent choice.”
Hmm, maybe my opinion of Zoë’s outfit was colored by the fact that she was crazy. Hard to say.
“Here you are, ladies,” Dom set three cups on the counter. “Coffee for Sam, chai tea for Angel, and green tea for our lady in orange-and-yellow fire.”
Zoë actually blushed, then picked up her cup and said, “Samantha will pay.”
Dom met my gaze and grinned, which made him look like a little boy. “She’s got character.”
“Yeah, like right out of a Stephen King novel.” I pulled a ten out of my wallet and paid while Angel cut away from Fireman Bob and followed Zoë to the tables closest to the door.
I picked up my coffee and Angel’s tea, then went to the table and took a seat with my back to the window.
From my right, Zoë said, “Samantha, do you have the name and address?”
Angel jumped in, “Do you have the box? With everything in it?”
Zoë stared across the table at Angel. “I’m negotiating with Samantha.”
Angel leaned across the table and hissed, “You’re going to be negotiating with my gun if you don’t hand it over.”
“Angel!” I glared at her. “You didn’t bring it!”
Keeping her green eyes fixed on Zoë, she nodded that she had brought it.
Great. I was sitting between two crazy women. And one of them was my best friend. I got the index card out of my purse and tried to calm everyone down. “Here’s the name and address of R. V. Logan.” I waved the card. “Let’s make a trade.”
Zoë snatched the card out of my hand and rose. “You’ll get your toys just as soon as I verify this information.” She started to leave.
Angel jumped up to catch her. I leaped up from my chair to stop Zoë before Angel could use her gun to stop her.
We all froze at the loud explosion.
12
A
fter the explosion, all I heard was a buzzing in my ears. Sort of like a bunch of bees stuffed inside my head. I looked around Smash Coffee to see what had fallen or exploded.
Fireman Bob sprang to his feet and started running toward the door with his cell phone pressed to his ear and his gaze fixed on the window behind me.
Confused, I turned to look.
I saw the flames through the stenciling on the plate glass window. Angel’s Trans Am was on fire. “Oh God.” It didn’t make sense. I looked at Angel.
She stared out the window, her green eyes big enough for me to see the reflection of the flames dancing in them. I took hold of her arm. Then I turned to Dom, who stood transfixed behind the counter with the phone to his ear. “Call 911!” I shouted. Then I realized that was what he was doing with the phone to his ear. God.
He looked over at me. “Talking to them now.”
Angel yanked her arm from my hold and ran.
“Angel!” I ran after her.
She didn’t even look at her car, but instead she stared toward the street. “What?” I followed her gaze.
“Zoë. She’s gone.”
The firemen got the fire out, saving the surrounding cars and property from damage.
Angel’s red Trans Am was a blackened, smoking mess.
The sidewalk in front of Smash Coffee was crowded with people. They had wandered over from the Vons and Wal-Mart anchor stores, and the smaller health food, shoe, hair, and nail shops, and one of those all-in-one privately owned post office places.
I made my way through the curious onlookers to where Angel stood in a group of serious-looking cops and firemen.
Angel turned to me. “They found a homemade device in the backseat.”
My chest seized up into a painful lump. “My God, you could have been killed!” I’d been in the car, too.
Bob turned to look at me. “Not likely, Samantha. Chances are good that the device was only put in there when the arsonist was sure no one was inside.”
From behind me, a voice said, “There was a pile of towels and rags in the backseat. And the window was left down. Seems almost like perfectly planned conditions for a car fire.”
I turned around to see Detective Vance. He had taken off his suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up. His brown gaze had little sparks of gold fury and was fixed on me. “You can’t think Angel did it!”
“Sure I can, Shaw. Mr. Danger tells me that the two of you were meeting with a woman named Zoë. I can only conclude that is the same Zoë who supposedly made off with the stolen diamond necklace. The same Zoë I told you to call me about if she contacted you.” He clamped his jaw shut, visibly struggling to control himself. A bulging throb had developed by his right ear. “What kind of trouble are you two in? Or are you trying to help your friend get out of financial trouble?”
“What? I mean, Angel’s not in financial trouble! And we were going to call you just as soon as we got the necklace. We had a plan! Zoë was supposed to give us the sex-toy kit back!” Too late, I realized I had shouted.
Silence dropped like a gunshot.
A heat separate from the smoldering of Angel’s car rushed into my face.
Vance clamped his hand around my arm. “Let’s go inside Smash Coffee. Both of you.” He included Angel in his forceful invitation.
No one was inside the coffee shop. It was quiet and cool. We went to a table and sat down. Vance immediately demanded, “I want to know exactly what’s going on, Shaw. I put my reputation on the line for you—twice!” His jaw bulged as he clamped his mouth shut and took a breath. “First, when you thought Angel was kidnapped, and again, when you left that message that you had found a diamond necklace that turned out to be the same necklace stolen from Daystar. I told both the Temecula police and Daystar security that I had a good lead on that necklace and their suspect. Now both are missing.”
Good Lord, I hoped he wouldn’t shatter his jawbone. “Vance, we still have a chance to find Zoë and get that necklace!”
Vance took in a breath, visibly getting control of himself. “You said Zoë was supposed to give you the sex-toy kit back. Did she?”
I was getting a little worried about Vance. He had the look of someone who could snap, pull out his gun, and shoot someone. OK—shoot
me.
“Well no, but—”
“No, but.” Vance’s voice went up a notch. “No, but. That’s always your answer.”
Angel slammed her purse down on the table. “Detective, we gave Zoë Hugh’s name and address and told her he was R. V. Logan. All you have to do is go over there and wait for Zoë to show up.”
He turned his gaze from me to glare at Angel. “And I’m supposed to believe you?” Vance leaned forward for emphasis. “The deal was that you were supposed to call me when you heard from Zoë, not send her on a wild goose chase sure to piss her off more. Which leads me to believe you two are trying to get that stolen necklace back for your own purposes—like trying to appease Zack Quinn after you tried to double cross him. In the meantime”—he turned back to Angel—“your car is firebombed just when you are in debt. Is it possible that you really didn’t think I’d take a look at your financials?”
Cripes, what was Vance talking about? “Angel didn’t set the car on fire! She was right here with me in Smash Coffee!”
He shifted his steely gaze back to me. “Could have arranged it, while she gave herself an alibi. All I need is the evidence, and believe me, whatever dumb scheme the two of you have cooked up, I will get the evidence.” He stood up and stormed out of Smash Coffee.
Angel got up, walked behind the counter and rummaged around, then returned with two cans of Diet Coke. “Zoë’s gone and Vance thinks I firebombed my own car.” Angel handed me one of the cans of Diet Coke. “He won’t listen. All because he has unresolved lust for you, and now thinks you might be walking the shady side of the law. For a stick-up-your-ass detective, that’s just the kind of thing that pisses him off. Now he has to redeem himself by proving he can set aside his lust and go after you, and by extension, me.”
I opened the can, making a mental note to pay Dom for the sodas. Outside the window, the firemen were reloading the fire hose into the truck. Vance and another man, who I guessed was some kind of arson investigator, were taking pictures of Angel’s car. Angel had already called her insurance agent, who had said he’d be there soon and take care of having the car towed.
Wait until the insurance agent heard Vance’s theory of Angel’s being responsible for firebombing her own car. That was going to put a serious crimp in Angel’s getting the insurance money for the car.
“Vance isn’t going to do anything to help us.” Angel paced around the table and took a drink of her soda. Then she stopped pacing and looked down at me. “Since Hugh doesn’t get home from work until three, Zoë will keep going back to his house until she finds him. All we have to do is go to Hugh’s and wait for Zoë. Then we can get that sex-toy kit from her.”
I barely listened to Angel as I thought about Vance’s words:
trying to get your friend out of financial trouble.
Then Gabe’s words:
is it possible Angel’s not telling you something?
I tried to think it out. Finally, I looked up at her and said, “Angel, come sit down for a minute.”
She sank into a chair, leaned her arms on the table, and said, “Sam, we have to go now. I don’t want to miss Zoë at Hugh’s house.”
I ignored her agitation. Besides, as she had pointed out, Hugh shouldn’t be home until 3:00, so we had time. “What did Vance mean? Are you in financial trouble?”
Angel turned to look out the window at the burned-up wreck of her car. “I’m in a lot of debt. All Vance had to do was get my credit-card statements to figure that out.”
I stared at her pale and strained face. “What happened?”
“Remember my mom’s accident?”
It took me a second to make the transition. We’d been talking about Angel and her finances and now suddenly we were talking about her mom’s car accident over two decades ago. It had been bad; her mom had been severely injured and she’d lost a nearly full-term baby. “Yes, but that was years ago.”
“She’s having problems with her back and hips. Her insurance doesn’t cover chiropractic care and one of her medicines. I’m paying for it.”
It hit me then. The guilt. It had been more than twenty years ago when Angel was ten years old. She had fallen off the swing set at school and broken her arm. When the school called her mom, Trixie, she had insisted on talking to Angel. Angel was in pain and was crying.
Racing to the school, Trixie was hit T-bone fashion on the driver’s side. The nearly full-term baby boy she’d been pregnant with had died, and Trixie had been severely injured.
A couple of months later, Angel’s dad told her that her being a crybaby had killed his son and left him saddled with a crippled wife. He’d walked out the door for his long-haul trucking route and never returned.
Since that day, Angel had never again been a crybaby or relied on anyone else if she could help it.
Bringing myself out of the past, I thought of the cruise Angel’s mom and my mom were on right then. “And the cruise?”
“I charged it on my MasterCard. Mom can’t afford it. But the cruise is good for her. She needs to stay off her feet for a week to let her hip rest and get the swelling around the nerves down. If she were home, she’d work. Standing while cutting hair is the worst for her.”
“You should have told me.” I had known that Trixie was having chronic pain, but she’d told me it was under control. I certainly hadn’t known that Angel had spent her savings to take care of her mom.
Angel didn’t appear to see anything outside the window, but rather, her expression looked turned inward. “I’m making Tempt-an-Angel work, and I still have some stocks that I haven’t sold yet. I have everything under control.”
I had said the exact same thing to Gabe this morning and he’d blown a gasket. Now I understood it. Angel and I had been friends for too long for her to carry this burden by herself.
I’d think later about how I wasn’t letting Gabe help me.
Right at that moment, I had to help Angel. I had somehow missed that my best friend was worried and going into debt to help her mom. I reached out and took hold of Angel’s hand. “No, you don’t have it under control. But you and I are going to deal with this. Together. Let’s see if Dom can give us a ride to Heart Mates. We can get my car, then go to Hugh’s house to wait for Zoë and get that necklace.”
We piled into Dom’s bright yellow Mustang. Since I had the shortest legs, I sat in the backseat. I let Angel and Dom talk while I pulled out my cell phone.
Maybe I could convince myself that Zoë’s stealing the sex-toy kit wasn’t a call-Gabe problem. But Angel’s car getting firebombed definitely was a problem. I dialed Gabe’s cell phone number and hit send. “I’m calling Gabe.” I announced.
“Bet Dee answers,” Angel glanced back at me, then turned to tell Dom the whole Dee story.
I ignored them both, though I was glad to see that Angel had regained some of her spark.
“Pulizzi Investigations. How can I help you?”
Dee! I gritted my teeth and tried one of those deep yoga breaths. “Dee, this is Sam Shaw. Put Gabe on.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Listen here—” I stopped when I realized she had hung up.
Angel turned to look at me.
“What we have here is a failure to communicate.” I redialed Gabe’s cell phone.
No answer.
“Caller ID.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the headrest. “Killing her is too good.”
Dom stopped at a red light and looked back at me. “Sounds like the girl has a crush on the hero.”
I opened my eyes and stared at Dom. “I know. So does Gabe. Don’t think he doesn’t know it. He knows it. He’s having a grand time being admired and fought over. Having Dee and me get into a battle over him? Men love it. The only thing he’d love more is if we agreed to have a threesome.” God, I was pissed. No little girl was going to outmaneuver me with my boyfriend. Even more, I wasn’t going to let him put me in this position. Gabe knew she had his cell phone.
I dialed the phone, this time calling Gabe’s pager unit, and pressed a button to go to voice mail. “Quit playing games, Pulizzi. I’m tired of getting hung up on by your assistant. I have bigger problems right now. A woman named Zoë stole the sex-toy kit with the diamond necklace in it and someone just firebombed Angel’s car. Vance is out for blood, specifically Angel’s and my blood. If you get a little time from chasing around Dee in her bikini, you think you could give me a call?”
Dom grinned in his rearview mirror. “Sex-toy kit? If you have handcuffs in that sex-toy kit, you should handcuff your bad boy and spank him.”
I rolled my eyes. I needed some Tylenol and a margarita in a five-gallon bucket.