Sunrise in a Garden of Love & Evil (22 page)

"That's all I need," Gideon said.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

As she opened the door of Leopard's office, it occurred to Ophelia that although she might not have jumped into the fire, she had probably replaced one frying pan with another. And Gideon would be the one who got burned, which was his own damn fault.

I'm a fool,
she thought,
but I can't let that happen.

Nothing but mild interest showed on Leopard's face when she closed the door and slumped against it, knees wobbling. Constantine, in the far corner with his guitar, didn't even raise his head.

"Here you are," Leopard said from the recliner. "Just like Gideon said. You have five minutes to clue me in to what's going down, and then I gotta go."

"Gideon
what
?" She thought she'd drained herself of adrenaline on the way over. Apparently not.

"He told me to expect you. What's up?"

Gideon had guessed where she was headed. He figured he could come and get her anytime he liked. "He wouldn't pursue me here! He couldn't possibly do anything so crazy!" She was shaking now.

Leopard heaved himself off the chair with a long-suffering eye roll, put his hands on Ophelia's shoulders, and steered her toward the couch. "Vi said you slept with him. Why would he need to do any pursuing?"

"To arrest me," Ophelia said miserably. She stuck her chin out at Leopard with what wimpy oomph she had left. "Don't you dare hurt him, Lep. Or you either," she told Constantine. "If he comes, just kick him out. If you sic your thugs on him--"

Leopard rolled his eyes again. "He didn't say anything about coming here, just that you needed to stay someplace under club control for a while. Now, sit down."

"Not till I get rid of this gun." Ophelia fumbled under the bustier to unbutton the silk skirt. "I don't know why he suspects me of killing all these people, but he does. I can tell by how he looks at me. Then this gun showed up in my house, and his boss must be putting pressure on him." With an exasperated cry she raised her skirt, tugged at the crinoline, and kicked it away.

"You're talking crap," said Leopard. "Gideon doesn't give a fuck about what his boss wants." The phone rang and Leopard read the display. Ophelia's silk skirt slithered into a pool on the floor. "This gorgeous vampire chick is doing a strip for us," he said into the phone. Ophelia gritted her teeth and fumbled with the double knot in the drawstrings of the net bag. "No problem," Leopard added. "See you." He hung up, flicked open a switchblade, and knelt to cut the drawstring and take the bag.

"He's coming over?" Ophelia didn't even try to hide the quaver in her voice. She pulled her skirt back up and fastened it.

"Jesus, girl! He just wanted to make sure you got here okay." Leopard tossed the string into the trash and opened the bag. "You've got three minutes. Explain."

She slumped on the couch and did, while he sniffed inside the Ziploc with the gun and replaced it in the net bag.

"More likely he wanted to get the gun out of there so you
wouldn't
be arrested." He shot a glance across at Constantine.

"It should be easy to find out," the rocker replied in his sinister voice, which ordinarily amused Ophelia and occasionally pissed her off, but this time struck fear into her soul.

"Constantine!" she cried, "If you hurt him--"

"By
asking
him," Constantine finished, laying down the guitar. "Cappuccino? No. Irish coffee." He opened the liquor cabinet under the counter.

Leopard unlocked the safe in his bookshelf and slipped the net bag inside. "Gideon says he's got the chief under control for now. Let me know if he wants the gun back. I'm out of here."

Ophelia sprang up. "You'll give him the gun?"

"If he convinces me it's the best move. Maybe he'll be able to trace it. Maybe he'll decide to plant it himself, once he knows who really shot Plato. Come on, girl, this isn't like you. I can't believe the dude's got you so freaked out you can't think straight. He's not turning into another obsessive, is he? Dud in bed, won't take no for an answer?"

"Of course he isn't a dud in bed!" Ophelia swallowed hard, but it didn't help, and a tear rolled down one cheek, and then another. "I really like him, Lep, but he's turned out to be a jerk. Worse than a jerk, and I feel like such a fool, because it was so
comfortable
."

Leopard gaped. "Sex with Gideon was just comfortable? I've never heard anything so boring in my life!"

"It wasn't
just
comfortable," said Ophelia indignantly. "And if you had any concept of what it's like when everyone you've slept with has been possessive or obsessed or all-out insane..." More tears escaped. "He was relaxed. It was so good, it was so comfortable, and I felt safe." She almost sobbed. "For once I felt safe!"

"Ah," Constantine said. "And now you don't."

"How can I, after that dirty trick?" There, a little less wimpy now. She sniffled and carefully wiped the tears away. "The sneaky, slimy"--
sexy, Goddamn it
--"bastard smiled at me and tried to get me to say it was okay for him to check out my house. 'Go have fun with Vi,' he said. Right--while he got all the evidence he needed to put me in jail for life. Not that I'd last more than a day in jail anyway without killing someone, and I can't believe he doesn't realize that. Or maybe he just doesn't care." She caught herself on a sob and paced furiously around the room.

"He would have discredited my alibis," she continued. "Reuben works for you, and one of the customers I saw the other day is mega into bondage. The sweetest guy, but who'll take his word for anything?" She clenched her fists and smothered a scream. "I thought Gideon was...was really
nice
. I thought he was on my side. I could kill him!" Her fangs slotted down. "But don't you dare touch him!"

Leopard rolled his eyes for a third time. "I'm gone. Talk some sense into her, will you?"

The door closed behind him. Ophelia let out a long, slow breath. "Sorry. I needed to get it out. I'll stop being hysterical now." Pushing her fangs wearily back into their slots, she retreated into the corner of the couch and accepted the brew Constantine held out. "I know you don't mete out undeserved punishment. But I have to be sure, and even then, I can't bear the idea that you would. Hurt him, I mean."

Constantine sipped his own heady coffee. "Do you want an alternative viewpoint?"

Ophelia sighed. "Of course I do. It's just...I don't want to hope and then find out he's scum. I'm so tired of fighting myself, of fighting off all those men."

Constantine lowered himself next to her. His dark eyes were unusually kind. "Maybe he was trying to spare you any more worry. He can't stay with you while he's working on this case, but he figured you'd be safe with your sister, and if his boss was harassing him to arrest you, he wanted you on safe ground until he could talk the old man into seeing things his way, which it sounds like he's done. Sure Gideon's under pressure, but he also has a conscience. Whatever Lep says, I doubt Gideon would plant evidence, even if he knew someone was guilty. Do you have any idea of the bribes he refused because of me?"

Ophelia bristled. "You mean he thought you were guilty?"

"I have no idea what he thought, but I do know he refused enough money to set him up for life."

"Then why does he look at me like he suspects me?" She wasn't sure what she saw in Constantine's eyes, so she hurried on. "He looks at me so intently, and he listens, and he watches, and it has nothing to do with sex, and he waits and waits until I just have to say something."

Constantine answered a knock on the door and returned with a heaping plate of crispy oysters and fries. "Contrary to popular opinion, men don't think about sex
all
the time. He has to spare some thought for the murder investigation." He set ketchup and Tabasco on the table. "Help yourself."

"The last thing I need is an aphrodisiac." She ate an oyster anyway. "I can't believe someone wants me dead."

"Maybe they don't." Constantine unscrewed the cap of the Tabasco sauce and poised it over the oysters. "May I?"

Ophelia nodded. "What do you mean?" She squeezed ketchup onto the plate.

"The rhythm's wrong," Constantine said. "Starts with a dead cat, then we have a little vandalism by someone else, which may or may not be relevant, then there's the body in the truck. Then someone fails to kill you but succeeds in killing your garden--"

Ophelia raised a hand. "Except--!" She dipped a fry in the ketchup and ate it. "Except that the poisoning of my garden must have happened before the body in the truck and probably before the vandalism. It takes a while for the weed killer to work."

"Even better. Ignoring the vandalism for now, first there's a threat, then another threat, which also strikes at your livelihood, then another strike at your livelihood, which might also conveniently get you in trouble with the cops. Then someone shoots at you, and then deescalates back into framing you for murder. If he wanted you permanently out of the way, why not shoot at you again?" He ate a fry. "Maybe he wanted to remove the protective cop."

Ophelia sat straight. "You think he was shooting at Gideon?"

Constantine gulped an oyster. "How should I know? It's one way of seeing things."

"My God! We have to speak to Gideon
now
."

But Gideon didn't answer his phone, even though she called over and over while Constantine polished off the oysters and fries and made arrangements to pick up Art and meet Violet at a club.

"Maybe I drowned his phone," Ophelia said. "If Gideon gets shot because of me..." It didn't bear thinking of.

Constantine grabbed Ophelia's cell and left a message. "Ophelia's freaking out. She thinks that shot this morning might have been meant for you."

Ophelia lunged for the phone, but Constantine had already closed it. "He knows how to watch his back. Besides, I need you tonight."

"You're coming, too? Thank God!" Artemisia tottered out her front door a few hours later in the electric blue gown and hugged Ophelia. She glanced guiltily at Constantine. "I'm sorry, but you scare me to death, and Vi doesn't understand how hard this is for me! I feel like an idiot in this dress. Are you sure Darby and Marissa will be there?"

Constantine motioned Art inside his current truck, another big hunk of metal. "All arranged."

"Arranged how? What's going to happen?"

"You'll see."

"You're making Art uncomfortable," Ophelia said, getting in beside her. "Look how she's shivering, and it's not even cold."

Constantine pulled away from the curb, heading toward downtown. "It'll be over soon."

Ophelia shot him a glance. What would be over? He was being aggravatingly mysterious, but she couldn't refuse to help someone to whom she owed so much.

"It's not Constantine's fault," Art said. "It's just that I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Dress or no dress, I can't slink up to Dar and vamp him away from that woman."

"You won't have to," Constantine said in his sinister voice.

Ophelia shot him another look, opened her mouth to ask a question, and shut it again.

Art shuddered. "What's he going to do?"

"How should I know?" Ophelia said irritably. "He won't tell me a thing."

"Trust me." Constantine laughed.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Art, forget about what Constantine's planning and think about what you want from this evening. Are you sure you want Darby? What if he falls for you and then you break his heart?"

"Of course I want him! I've loved him ever since I was sixteen. I just didn't know." After a tense silence, she muttered, "I should have. I could have, if I hadn't been so dumb."

"Dude might have changed some since then," Constantine said.

"He's still Dar," Art said gruffly.

They entered the Chamber by the employee door, bypassed the haze and heavy music of the dance hall, and were ushered into a cool, dim room with a stage at one end and an array of tables, a few of which were unoccupied. Ophelia muttered something obscene as she took a seat at Constantine's reserved table and ditched her shoes. "Why are we here?"

"For the floor show," Constantine said in that same creepy voice. Ophelia recognized this mood. He wasn't being sinister on purpose. He was gearing up for something highly unpleasant, and it couldn't be just to help Art get her hands on Darby Sims. Meanwhile, all Ophelia could think of was Gideon, the decision she had to make, and the job she had to do in the morning.

Art sat at Constantine's other side. Slow, sultry music played in the background. Art gazed at the purple and gold decor, the handcuffs daisy-chained across the ceiling, the phallic pillars, and the frankly inviting plaster flowers clustered above. "Any show in this place has got to be all about sex. If Dar's bringing Marissa here, I may as well go home right now."

"Stop fussing," Constantine said. "Relax and enjoy the view."