Read Set Up For Love Online

Authors: Lynde Lakes

Set Up For Love (8 page)

Pender came over to Jill. “Tell me what you saw,” he said.
She couldn’t add anything to what Dane had said. Shock had frozen her brain.

Pender glanced from Jill to Dane, then put his notebook in his hip pocket. “Let’s wrap it up here. It’s important to get you folks off the freeway. I’ll give you a lift to the garage and you can take it from there.”

Jill watched while Dane salvaged what he could from his car. Her compulsion to find Tess made her edgy, impatient. How were they going to get to the university now?

The patrol car lowered slightly when Dane climbed into the backseat next to her. She yearned to have his arm around her, to feel the safety and strength of him, but he kept his distance. And that was best. These feelings were simply caused by shock.

“All set?” Officer Pender asked.

Dane nodded. His attention was on the tow truck removing his car. The motorcycle officers who had just arrived stopped all the traffic while the truck eased slowly to the other side of the freeway.

Pender turned on his siren and followed.

When they arrived at the garage, Dane quickly slid out of the backseat.

The blood-red image of the word
NEXT
on the back of Tess’ photograph flashed in Jill’s mind. Before Dane could reach her, she slid out the opposite door onto unsteady legs—she had to keep going—had to. Grimacing, she placed one foot in front of the other. Her head reeled. “I need to call a taxi. Must get to the university”

Dane blocked her way and gently took her arm. “I’ll call a cab. But I’m taking you home. You’re in no condition for anything else.”

Fighting rubbery legs and dizziness, she shook off his hold. “I’m going to find Tess now. Don’t try to stop me. Nothing must stop me.” She stumbled. Dane’s arms closed around her. “No, no,” she cried. “I must…” The world spun. Then blackness.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Dane climbed into the ambulance with Jill and took her hand. She was so white, so still that he wondered about internal injuries.
Please, God, let her be all right.

The medic gripped Jill’s other hand and checked her pulse. He had on a Mickey Mouse watch just like the one he’d given to Davy on his seventh birthday.

It seemed a century had passed since that day. After breakfast, they’d gone to beach. He’d slipped his arm around Laura as they watched Davy play. The sand glistened like wave-washed diamonds while the sea gently rolled in on itself. Above, the sky was blue and dolloped with odd-shaped whipped cream clouds.


Look, Dad,” Davy had said, “there’s a zoo in the sky.” He pointed out an elephant with a thick trunk, and a monkey with a curly tail.

Dane played along, enjoying the game. He pointed at a glob of nothing. “Well now, that must be a giraffe over there.”


No, Dad. Can’t you see? That’s a lion. See the fluffy mane.”


Of course,” Laura agreed. “Anyone can see that.”

They all laughed. Dane drew Laura closer, her scent and closeness warming him as they watched the miracle son they’d made together.

Davy returned his attention to the sand castle they’d all built and added his creative genius.

His son was growing up too fast. He needed to carve out more time to be with the boy. Too soon he’d be grown, in college, studying journalism like his dad, then he’d marry and have a beautiful son of his own.

Dane went to the boy, knelt beside him and hugged him close. The feel of the sturdy frame against his own brought a lump to his throat. Davy wrapped his sun-warmed arms around Dane’s neck and hung on tight. “Love ya, Dad.”


Sir...” The medic was speaking to Dane, pulling him from his poignant memory.

“What?”

“Don’t worry. She’s going to be okay.”

Dane hoped the young medic wasn’t just pacifying him. He felt so helpless. He should’ve guessed what the hit-and-run driver was up to, and found a way to avoid him. Trouble raced toward him from every direction. The reason was always the same, his line of work.

The wailing siren announced their race toward emergency care. But the wail wasn’t always the sound of hope
. It hadn’t been that cold, rainy day two years ago: Bullets had already torn through Laura and Davy and splattered the lighthouse walls with their blood.

Dane buried his head in his hands.

He’d never forget the horror of that day. He tightened his jaw. Their violent deaths had left a gaping hole of pain wider than the Grand Canyon, leaving him empty and desolate. His work had taken his family from him, and it was his work that enabled him to get through each day, hour by long hour, without them. He recoiled at the irony.

Jill’s limp hand in his warned Dane that he couldn’t let himself care for this woman too much. As long as he had this job, he’d never allow himself to love again. He didn’t want more blood on his hands. He’d help her find the killer, clear himself of all suspicions, then run like hell.

****

Tess’ eyes blazed when she answered the phone. “About time,” she said. When her supposed mentor didn’t show up in time for breakfast, she’d survived on vending machine coffee and a few bites of a stale roll. Now it was already mid-morning. “Where the devil are you?”

“Still working out the details,” he crooned. “This is even bigger than I thought. Hang in there, Beautiful.”
She grabbed one of the limp pillows and socked a mean dent into it. “Did you see Charmaine last night?”
Charmaine had been secretive about the video shoot and Tess suspected he was up to something with her.
“What?” His voice sounded strained.
“Charmaine. Did you do a modeling shoot with her last night at the studio?”
“Hey, what’s with the third degree?” he shouted. “I told you yesterday, I’m concentrating solely on your career now.”
Wincing, Tess held the phone away from her ear. He’d never yelled at her before. He’d always been fun, charming.
“Are you listening, Tess?” His voice gentled.

“I’m listening,” she muttered, twisting the telephone cord around her fingers. “But coming to this motel only to wait around all night doesn’t feel right. I just want to be sure that—”

“You’re nineteen, kid. Grow up! This is a rough business. The producers pull the strings. They say where and when. Either you dance to their tune or get out. Which is it, Tess? Are you in or out?”

It hurt that he thought of her as a child. “I’m in but—”
“Is it you don’t trust me? I’ve gotten you jobs and that audition in Hollywood. Nothing sleazy. Only the best.”
“I appreciate what you’ve done, but—”
“No more buts. I think I’ve proven myself to you.”
Everything he said seemed true. Maybe she was acting childish.
“Look, Sweetie, how much do you want a career in film? I could drop this right now if that’s what you want. It’s your call.”
She looked down at her bare feet and grumbled, “I told you, I’m in.”

“Speak up, Sweetie, I can’t hear you when you mumble. Tell me exactly what you want, loud and clear. I don’t want to waste my time if you’re not totally committed to this.”

“All right, I want it so bad I can taste it! Is that what you want to hear?”

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.” She barely heard the click as the line disconnected.

She glanced around the room—nothing to read. At least there was television. She flipped quickly past the news, looking for a movie. Ah,
An Officer And A Gentleman.
One of her favorites.

By three-thirty in the afternoon, Tess felt bored and hungry for something besides vending machine food. If her hotshot friend thought she would wait here forever, he was very wrong. He and his big deal could go to blazes. She collected her things and headed out the door.

The phone rang. She paused, torn. It rang again.
She grabbed the receiver, ready to tell him off.
The excitement in his voice stopped her. “My producer friend wants us to meet him in Sunnyvale. Your role is in the bag.”

“Is it really true?” Keeping the receiver to her ear, Tess let herself fall backward on the bed and excitedly kicked her feet in the air, her anger forgotten.

“Guaranteed. The audition is just a formality. I showed him pictures. He agrees that you’re perfect for the Shelly Simms part.”
Unable to remain still, she sat up again. “Shouldn’t I have a script?”
He laughed. “You’ll get everything you need when you get here. This is your big break, Doll. Got a pen?”
“Yes. Yes. Tell me how to get there.”

She scribbled down his weird instructions and directions, promising to follow them exactly. She trembled with excitement as she put her wig back on. This part could lead to something with a major studio. He’d told her that. She grabbed her tote bag and rushed out the door.

Wearing the dark wig and sunglasses, Tess walked three blocks west of the motel to a Seven-Eleven Market and telephoned for a cab. It was silly to come here to use a public phone when there was a telephone in the motel room. But he had insisted on strict adherence to his instructions. A test, he’d said, to prove she could play the part of the beautiful spy.

All the secrecy was sort of fun, now that she knew it was leading to her big chance. She’d been right to trust him. As he’d pointed out, he had already gotten her a few good modeling jobs. And it was he who’d discovered the small ad in the L.A. classifieds, then encouraged her and Charmaine to send in their portfolios. She could hardly believe it when they were both accepted. They’d already made their travel and hotel arrangements. The filming wasn’t at a major studio, but it was a beginning. And now this break!

Following his instructions, Tess took the taxi downtown then boarded a bus heading for Sunnyvale. Changing from taxi to bus seemed unnecessary, but he’d never steered her wrong, yet. She was rather enjoying the adventure of playing the dark, glamorous spy. Like he’d promised, it was getting her in the mood for the audition. She would ace it!

The bus was crowded, and she took the only remaining seat. The air was fouled not only by exhaust fumes but also with a mixture of overly sweet perfume and unwashed bodies. Someone must have stopped by the fish market on their way home because the fishy odor added to the foul air. She was being jostled between a lady with two chins and three large rolls of body fat and a man with his potato-nose in the newspaper. Everyone around her looked bored and tired. She was at the other end of the spectrum, energized and ready for her big break.

The bus route took her to Sunnyvale, where she boarded another bus. She watched for her stop. He’d said it was only about four miles beyond the big shopping center. The neighborhood changed from newer middle class homes to an old area with pawnshops and tenements. Many of the buildings were defaced by graffiti.

When Tess finally got off the bus the sun was setting. She removed her sunglasses and tucked them away. Quickly, she walked four blocks. Only a few cars passed. The sidewalks were deserted—shops closed, a few boarded up. Graffiti now covered everything, bus-stop benches, all the buildings. It was so quiet. Tess withdrew the cylinder of pepper-spray from her bag and clutched it in readiness.

Something shuffled in a darkened doorway ahead. Taking longer, faster strides, she passed two rubbish bins that had overflowed onto the sidewalk. Smells of decayed garbage radiated from them. A thin black rat scurried in front of her—she let out a small yelp.

It wasn’t much further. He’d promised to be waiting for her. What if he didn’t show up?

The back of her neck prickled as she turned into an alley. Two tall brick buildings blocked the late afternoon sun and shadowed the alley.

There he was!

She exhaled and returned her pepper-spray to her bag. He stood at the rear of a van parked at the end of the dead-end alley. His open black leather jacket revealed a dark T-shirt stretched over a broad chest.

He met her halfway. His glacial gray eyes were unusually bright. An odd shiver slid down her spine.
“Hi, Beautiful.” His quick, familiar smile erased her concerns. “Cold?” He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.
Her heartbeat settled down as she accepted the warm safety he offered. “Whose van?”
“A guy on the movie crew.”
He opened the rear doors, then took her tote bag and stowed it inside. He picked up something from the carpeted floor.

Suddenly he was behind her. The cloth he clamped over her mouth and nose was acrid—her nostrils burned. He shoved her into the van onto the rough, smelly carpet. She flailed and kicked out. Then she plunged into darkness…

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Agent Jill Grayson forced her eyes open to a blurry, too bright fluorescent world. She lay on something cold and hard. The air smelled of disinfectant. Muffled voices and moans came from a distant place. Was it her voice? A new urgency gripped her.
Oh, God. Tess! She had to get to Tess!

She tried to sit up. Hands held her down. The ceiling stopped spinning. It had brown stains and sprinkler stubs. A dull pain pulsed in her neck and radiated up into her skull.

“Vitals are normal,” said a man in a white coat. “Have to review the X-rays to determine injuries. I’ll be back.” His footsteps faded.

Jill squinted at the dark-haired man who held her down. With effort, she focused on his face. Dane! Again, she tried to sit up. “What am I doing here?”

He eased her back on the gurney. “Lie still. You blacked out.”
She remembered now. Someone had rammed them into a concrete divider. “I have to look for Tess!”
“The doctor doesn’t want you to move until he’s checked the X-rays.”
Dane held her there, leaning over her. Concern glinted in his brown eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Frustrated! Why did you bring me here?”
“I told you. You blacked out.” His voice carried a trace of impatience.
“Smelling salts would have worked,” she muttered, trying again to get up. He wouldn’t let her move.

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