Sunrise in a Garden of Love & Evil (6 page)

"Oh, shit," Art said. "My brother's at my place."

Ophelia's heart lurched as she went to the window. Gideon's Mercedes was behind a Toyota a few houses down.

"I wonder how long he's been there?" Art radiated uneasiness. "Since he caught me vacuuming naked, he doesn't drop by for no reason."

Good Lord. "It'll take him only a minute with the phone in your house to find out who you were talking to all afternoon. Damn it, he'll ruin our plans."

"Here he comes. No, he stopped to be polite to my neighbor. Maybe she'll drag him around her garden...No, he's saying good-bye. I could
try
to fend him off." Art grimaced. "He'll drag it all out of me."

"Leave him to me," Ophelia said. "I can distract him."

"I'll bet you can." Art grinned.

"Come to my sister's for dinner and bring your camera and some color film. I'll let her know to expect you. Seven o'clock, the big purple Victorian behind Blood and Velvet. And for your own safety as much as mine,
please
don't tell anyone I'm a vamp."

Art grinned again. "Cross my heart."

Ophelia stationed herself by the front windows and watched Gideon stroll up Andrea's walk, calm and confident, a big blonde mutt with matted curls trotting at his side, rays of late-afternoon sun slanting behind them. She took a deep breath and told her thudding heart to chill.
So what if he's the first man you've responded to in years? He dates bimbos and would be terrified of fangs. Detective work first, and sex only if all else fails.

Ophelia counted slowly to ten before opening the door. There Gideon stood, pheromones in jeans and a checkered shirt with rolled up sleeves. What was it about rolled up sleeves? Powerful forearms, strong capable hands...
Pull yourself together, girl!

"What a surprise." She left the door ajar and leaned on the jamb, eyeing Gideon with what she hoped looked like lighthearted disdain and not naked, hopeless lust. For a second the detective appeared mesmerized. Then his gaze cleared and his lips twitched.

"Ophelia. What are you doing here?"

"Landscaping." She turned up the allure, but the answering heat in his eyes almost knocked her to her knees. She tore her eyes from his. "Nice dog." She extended a hand under the animal's nose.

"Meet Gretchen," Gideon said. "Landscaping.
Inside
the house?"

"I take care of all Mrs. Dukas's plants when she's away." Ophelia slipped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her. "And the Dukases are out of town. Sorry." She scratched behind Gretchen's ears.

"Really." A touch of annoyance crept into Gideon's voice.

"Yep." Ophelia busied herself with Gretchen's soft blonde curls, which sorely needed scissors and a comb. "You have business with them?" She steeled herself to glance up again.

"My sister will do just as well."

Ophelia tried a puzzled expression.

Gideon chuckled. "I'll talk to Art instead." He reached for the door handle, but Ophelia blocked him--getting way too close in the process. "Or not." He leaned closer without hesitation, nose to her nose, his hot breath bathing her lips. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, and her lips parted of their own volition. As his mouth brushed hers, a shudder ran over her. If she hadn't had that taste of blood, her fangs would have come down by now.

She shrank against the door. "No."

"No?" He was only a millimeter away. "Why not?"

"It's not a good idea." She slid to one side. "Don't go in the house. That's not a good idea, either."

"Why the hell not?" Gideon drew back, finally looking confused. Worried, too. "What's wrong with Art? Is she okay?"

"She's all right, but she doesn't want to talk to you." She could see that hurt him, so she added, "Let's sit down and discuss things."

Ophelia crossed the porch and sat on the top step next to a pillar. She tickled Gretchen toward her side, hemming herself safely in and away from Gideon's heat, and removed the secateurs from her belt. "This poor dog is covered with mats." She held a clump of Gretchen's fur between two fingers and clipped it off.

Gideon frowned down at her. "What do you want to discuss--dog grooming, which is irrelevant, my lousy relationship with my sister, which is none of your business, or that you're not attracted to me, which is a load of crap? I know you want me." He lowered himself beside Gretchen's other flank. "Go ahead, get it over with. Tell me I'm arrogant and obnoxious."

"Of course you're confident." Ophelia ran her eyes over him without a tremor, back in control. She clipped off more matted fur. "You're nicely built, pretty good-looking, have plenty of attitude...Women go for those things."

"Including you."

"I'm not immune, but that doesn't mean I'll hop into bed with you." Snip. "Therefore, I suggest you back off."

"Nope." He grinned. "I can wait out your little game."

"It's not a game," Ophelia retorted. Gretchen panted companionably beside her. "I can't believe I thought for a few short minutes this afternoon that you might be an okay guy. I suppose all your moves are about getting women into bed. After that, it doesn't matter how they feel. I bet you're a major disappointment." Reaching for a clump that was too close to Gideon's arm, she thought better of it.

"Not so," Gideon said. A laugh lurked in his voice. "I know what women want."

"You have no idea what
I
want." She grabbed the damned mat and sawed away at it. "Which is fine, because you wouldn't have the guts to deliver."

"Try me," Gideon said. "It's a win-win situation for you. Either complete and utter sexual satisfaction...or the satisfaction of being right."

"I don't get off on being right," Ophelia snapped.

"You won't be right," Gideon said. "You will get off, though. How about it?"

Snip. "You don't know the first thing about the female mind," Ophelia went on, determined not to think about getting off. "No wonder your sister feels abandoned, with a brother like you." Her eyes flew to his. "I didn't mean that! I'm sure you care about Art. I'm not usually so rude, although you probably find that hard to believe. Not that it matters what you think, since you're such a sleaze."

"I'm not a sleaze." Gideon shifted to give Ophelia access to Gretchen's other flank. "How about we call a truce? Play it straight with each other?"

She wished. What a deep, calm voice. What laughing eyes. Until he saw the goddamned fangs. Until he--She shut her mind to the memories. "It's not that simple."

"We'll see about that," Gideon said. "Is Art the one being blackmailed?"

Ophelia fought for an answer and came up with nothing. She gathered the discarded clumps of Gretchen's hair into a pile.

"Damn it," Gideon growled. "What's she done?"

Ophelia shook her head. "Nothing illegal, but she thinks you'll disapprove. If you go in ranting and raving, you'll estrange her even more. You'd better leave it to me."

"I don't rant and rave! I don't even disapprove. She's an adult. She can do what she pleases."

"Uh-huh." Ophelia allowed herself a tight little smile. Gretchen yawned and laid her head on her paws. "Even vacuum the house naked?"

Gideon's face darkened. "What, she told you her whole life's story in the last hour? She can do anything she likes naked, but not with the curtains open. That's just plain dumb."

"She's trying to say something, Gideon. She got out of a bad marriage, but she's lost whatever sexual confidence she had, which I suspect wasn't much to start with. She's fighting back, but she shouldn't have to fight you, too."

"She told you all this?"

"Not in so many words."

Gideon stared down at the steps, clearly fighting chagrin. "It's my fault if she's turning to strangers instead of me." A squirrel chattered along the branch of a live oak by the road. It started down the trunk, tail twitching, and Gretchen's nose came up. Gideon, too, was watching the squirrel. "What can I do for her? I admit it--apart from sex, I don't have a clue about women, and Art's not about to discuss her sex life with me."

"Be a friend. Hang out with her. When she looks good, say so. And when you remind her to shut the curtains, make sure she knows it's not because you disapprove of nakedness, but because you care about her and want her to be safe." The squirrel reached the ground and Gretchen took off, barking joyfully, to scare it back up the tree. Ophelia chuckled. "What a darling dog." She smiled at Gideon, forgetting restraint.

He swallowed. "Lord, you're beautiful."

Ophelia flinched and stood up in a rush. "Art and Andrea Dukas are both being blackmailed. Andrea and her husband really are out of town, and you don't need to discuss it with Art, because I'm going after the blackmailer myself."

Gideon stood as well, his appalled expression everything she could have hoped.

Ophelia headed for the stairs.
Back to detective work, Mr. O'Toole. Thank God.

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

Gideon laid a hand on the retreating woman's arm. "Hold on a minute."

"Let go of me!" Ophelia ripped herself away from him.

Lord Almighty. "Look,
Ms. Beliveau
," Gideon tried, "I don't know what you've been through, or why you can't let yourself be pleasant with me, but my sister's at risk. If you won't tell me what you're planning, I have no choice but to take care of it myself."

Ophelia paced the porch, fists clenched, looking anywhere but at him. Finally she said, "This may seem irrelevant to you, but I'm trying to find a way that Art and Andrea don't have to accuse this guy and expose themselves. For sure, Andrea won't do it. She'd move halfway round the world rather than risk her kids going into foster care. And Art's talking about giving up her job."

"What? She loves her job! She's a born teacher." Gideon stifled the urge to slam his way into the house. "What's she being blackmailed for?"

Ophelia threw up her hands. "She was doing nude modeling at the art school, and someone took pictures of her."

"What's wrong with that crazy girl? If she was short of money, she should have come to me."

"You're behaving just like she said you would. There's nothing wrong with posing nude. Maybe she enjoys it. Maybe she likes people looking at her naked body. Many women do."

The whine of a vacuum came from inside the house, too close to be a coincidence, and Ophelia gave a tiny spurt of laughter. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the narrow window beside the door, while Gideon stood well back. Women. All of them were insane.

"Scaredy-cat," Ophelia taunted. The beginnings of a grin tilted her mouth.

Gideon fought amusement. "If
you
want to clean house in the buff, honey, I won't be shy. You'd look cute with a feather duster." He leaned on a column and looked her over.

"That is so sexist." Ophelia returned his stare, hot and haughty. "But then, you're used to being that way. Your bimbos will do anything you ask."

Bimbos?
"I suppose you got that from my sister, who doesn't know any more about my sex life than I do about hers." His eyes drank in the swell of Ophelia's breasts and the lush curve of her hips and he almost caught fire. Something pushed him in one smooth motion away from the pillar and toward those hot eyes and lips, something primal. He settled a hand on her waist, hard, cupped a warm breast with the other and fastened his lips on hers. Ophelia whimpered and pressed herself into his hand, parted her lips, and licked back at him with a hot, eager tongue.

"Gideon O'Toole!" A voice out of the past slapped at him. Gretchen barked, and sharp footsteps clomped up the steps. "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Gideon pulled dazedly away as a hickory switch smacked his legs. Gretchen barked again and felt the switch in her turn, and Ophelia skittered down the stairs, saying, "Thanks, Mrs. Cotter," her face white, hands to her lips. "I don't know what got into me." She hurried toward the garden.

"Gideon's been like this since he was a boy," Mrs. Cotter replied. Twenty-odd years had left her unchanged when it came to dispensing untender care. "I caught him kissing the girls in first grade."

"Yes, Mrs. Cotter," Gideon admitted. "And they always enjoyed it--as Ophelia was doing until you came along."

"Sassy boy, making a display of yourself, kissing and fondling in public. Such things should be kept private." Mrs. Cotter clopped away down the walk. "As for you, Ophelia, be warned. This boy's been trouble from day one."

Ophelia was scanning the flower bed. "Thanks again, Mrs. Cotter. I really appreciate it. I have work to do. Here"--she marked with a trowel from her belt--"here and here." Dirt was soon leaping obediently into neat piles beside precise little holes. Gretchen snuffled at the aromatic earth. Mrs. Cotter continued briskly down the sidewalk, no doubt planning to call the chief of police.

"Kissing and fondling in private sounds like fun," Gideon suggested.

Ophelia's eyes remained on the ground. "No."

"You were enjoying it. I was enjoying it. Why not?"

"No," Ophelia said again. She pushed Gretchen gently away and strode along the flagstone path to disappear through a gate in the stone wall. A minute later, still not looking at him, she returned with two flats of impatiens.

You knew this was a bad idea,
Gideon told himself, unable to walk away but needing to take care of Art. This woman was a mess. His sister was a mess. He wasn't a frigging therapist.

"What's Ms. Dukas being blackmailed about?"

For a long second, he thought Ophelia would refuse to reply. Then, "Her husband took pictures of her nursing her baby naked." When he made an impatient noise, she added, "You never know when some social worker will decide that's perverted. Andrea won't take chances with her kids."

"The blackmailer's someone at a photo shop? There's only one left in town. It's a print shop, too, as I recall."

"Yes." She sounded grudging.

"I suppose you're thinking of luring him into blackmailing someone else?"

She said nothing, but with quick, sure movements coaxed plants into new homes.

"But you've got some cockeyed notion about entrapment, so because I'm a cop, you've decided I can't be involved."

Ophelia offered him an exaggerated sigh. "We shouldn't discuss this. Why don't you just trust me?"

Gideon laughed out loud. "How do
you
feel about trusting
me
? Not so confident, huh? And yet I'm a very trustworthy guy."

"That's different!" Ophelia tamped earth around a couple of red impatiens. "I do trust you, more or less."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit." She nestled the last plant into its home. "You don't understand."

"I'm more than willing to try."

Her words were soft and bitter, her face still averted. "I wish."

"What
ever
you wish, sweetheart," Gideon said. "Just give me a chance."

He was such a fool.

She brushed dirt off her hands and stacked the flats, then picked her way to the back of the flower bed. Gideon let the silence hang for a minute or two. "Honey, you haven't given me any reason to trust you. You're feeding me too many mixed messages. At the moment, however, what matters to me is that my sister gets through this okay. I need to know what's going on."

Ophelia fiddled with the timer on the Dukas watering system. "When I'm ready for you to arrest the blackmailer, I'll give you a call." She picked up her trowel and the flats and started walking.

Undeterred, Gideon strode beside her. "The hell with that. Say you convince some fool to set himself up to be blackmailed. Hopefully the dude at the shop falls for it and I arrest him...but what if your friend screws up and the dude gets wise? Even if the plan works, what about the photos of Art and Ms. Dukas? They could be in the shop, at his house, on his computer. I can't be sure of getting everything. But with more warning, the odds are better. I need to know everything you and Art know about this guy, so I can prepare in advance."

"I'll keep you informed." Ophelia slipped ahead of him into Andrea's backyard.

Gideon followed. "I can't take that for an answer."

"I'll call you tomorrow, then. Tomorrow morning. First thing." She headed for her truck.

"Not good enough. What the hell is wrong with you? Talk to me, damn it!"

"I don't want to talk to you. I don't need your help."

"Too bad." Anger slowed his voice. "You've got it whether you like it or not. We can skip the sex, even though you want it as much as I do, but you damn well better cooperate when it comes to the law."

Her fists clenched as she hurried ahead. "I have friends who can do the job just as well or better."

Gideon fought back surprise. "Calling in vigilantes? I thought you didn't hold with violence." Ophelia was almost running now. In his frustration, Gideon lashed out. "On the other hand, what could be simpler? Constantine Dufray can off the guy, and everyone will live happily ever after."

Ophelia whirled, eyes narrow, voice cracking. "Don't you
ever
dis Constantine to me!" She tossed the dirty trowel and the empty flats into her truck. "Now leave me the fuck alone."

Gideon waited as she drove away, rage churning his gut. Gretchen shoved her cool nose under his hand. He stalked across the street toward his car. Art could wait for later.

"Losing your touch, boy?" Mrs. Cotter cackled from her gate a few doors down. "She's too bright for you. You chased silly girls in first grade, and still do, by what I hear."

Gideon slowed. "If you say so, ma'am."

Mrs. Cotter rapped the gate with her stick. "Unless you're thinking of marriage...which you should be at your age. Ophelia's an ideal choice: smart, pretty, kindhearted, an excellent gardener to boot. If anyone can tame that wilderness around your place, she's the one. My daughter drove me that way last Sunday to see all the fancy subdivisions and the new golf course. Your driveway's so overgrown it's a miracle you can get your car into it. Heaven only knows what condition the house is in. Your mother would turn in her grave."

"Yes, ma'am." Obviously she had more to say, so he waited with gritted teeth.

"Court Ophelia the old-fashioned way. Marriage first, sex afterward, as it should be."

That worked for him, as long as they got married tomorrow. Better still, tonight. He was going out of his mind.

Mrs. Cotter poked him with her hickory stick. "Otherwise, she'll think she's just another conquest."

"I never..." He wasn't getting into this with his firstgrade teacher. "Yes, ma'am."

"Think you never hurt anyone? I'll bet there are broken hearts all over town. Silly ones, but broken all the same. Mind you don't hurt Ophelia, or you'll have to deal with me."

Not to mention Leopard and Constantine, and Violet and Zelda, and by now probably Artemisia as well. Gretchen and Psyche, too.

"Yes, ma'am." Gideon fled.

Dusk was falling as he arrived at the Chamber. Unlike Violet Dupree's Blood and Velvet, which catered to the faux-vampire crowd, the Chamber focused on the milder forms of punishment and mutilation. You could participate or just watch. You could get stripped, but only so far, tied and whipped or hung on chains, and of course pierced or tattooed or scarred if you so desired. Like Blood and Velvet, it was a sissy club, a tourist hangout. In the welter of striped velour and gold trim, whorehouse daybeds and gaping idiots, nothing much illegal or even remotely serious went on.

Gideon avoided a tussle and, far more inconvenient, a locked door, by choosing the employee entrance at the rear, and worked his way with little protest to the wings of the dance-hall stage. There being no sense in wasting any time, he marched onstage to where Willy Wyler was hooking up a wah-wah pedal and grabbed him by the throat. Wyler clawed at him, choking, and Gideon rammed the musician against the scaffolding and let him fall.

"What the fuck is going on?" Burton Tate dropped the mess of wires he was tangling with and hurried over, followed by his younger brother and a lanky guy on speed. "Get the hell out of here or I'll call the...Oh, yeah. You are the cops. What are you doing, dude?"

"Saving Willy from the tender mercies of Leopard's goons," Gideon said. "He should be thankful."

"Don't mess him up too bad, dude. We got a show tonight." It was the same wheedling, whining Burton as ever. "What'd he do?"

The musician on speed goggled, and Gabriel Tate, with a scared glance at Gideon, shoved a couple of groupies into the opposite wing.

"Vandalized the wrong person's garden."

Gideon waited while Willy Wyler dragged himself up off the floor.

"So I heard," Burton said. "Lisa was all bent out of shape about it." He scratched the dagger tattoo on his bicep. "Willy shoulda known better. Ophelia don't put out for no one, 'cept Constantine and Leopard. Why else would they protect the bitch?"

Gideon took Willy by the arm. "I won't hurt him unless I have to."

He guided the guitarist over to the bar and balanced him on a stool, then picked a cigarette from the packet in Willy's shirt pocket and lit it for him. "Okay, Willy, now listen. We both know you didn't vandalize Ophelia's place because she won't fuck you. That would be dumb, and although you're not one of the world's bright bulbs anymore, you're not that dumb either. Why'd you do it?"

Willy grabbed the cigarette and took a long drag. The silly fuck was trying to think.

"Don't waste your time," Gideon said. "We know you did it. All I want to know is, why?"

Willy cleared his throat and cleared it again. "Fuck, man, why'd you have to choke me? I woulda told you without that."

"Because, Willy, I want you and everyone else to leave Ophelia alone. Just talking doesn't leave enough of an impression."

Willy stared. "Fuck, man, you're not falling for that dyke, too, are you?" He blanched. "Don't hit me, man! It's true, I swear!"