Tiny Glitches: A Magical Contemporary Romance (22 page)

“There can’t be nothing wrong,” Hudson said. “It completely stopped working this morning. They had to winch it onto the truck.”

“She must have been feeling temperamental,” Mike said. An insubstantial Wookiee walked behind the mechanic and stuck his tongue out at Mike’s back. Hudson’s shoulders slumped.

“That damn beast
is
cursed. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. All I did was take her for a spin. In fact, I should owe you. That car got me a date for Friday night.”

Hudson circled the block in his car before he let me get in. When I did, he said, “We’re driving straight to Jenny’s parents’. No stops, no sidetracking. I don’t care if we have a tail.”

Finally.

Jenny’s parents lived in a suburban sprawl in Encino. The houses were a hodgepodge of styles, the yards were meticulously maintained, and the driveways were filled with midsize commuter cars and minivans.

Harvey and Selah Winters were a mismatched couple. Harvey looked like he belonged in a beatnik club, drinking a rum and Coke and talking philosophy, not working in management at Costco like Hudson had told me. Selah had a put-together air of a woman in charge. Her cream-colored dress complemented her plump, short figure and contrasted with her ebony skin. With stylish gray hair and high cheekbones, she looked a decade younger than her husband.

They were expecting us, thanks to Hudson.

“Doing a piece on our girl for the high school alumni paper?” Harvey asked. “You won’t find a more accomplished graduate.”

“We always knew Jenny was going to do something big,” I said. I sat on a floral-print sofa with Hudson. Harvey and Selah took the chairs opposite us. Hudson had prepared me for our cover story during the drive, and to make myself look authentic, I pulled out my notebook and a pen and poised myself to take notes.

“We’d really love to interview Jenny,” Hudson said, “but we couldn’t find her current location or even a phone number for her.”

“Oh, that’s because she’s not stateside,” Selah said. “We just got through explaining that to the FBI. Everyone wants to chat with our little girl lately.”

“The FBI?” Hudson asked. I was very conscious of not looking at Hudson. What did the FBI know about Jenny and the elephantini she’d foisted on us?

“Jenny’s a brilliant girl. A lot of people are interested in her talents,” Harvey said. “But we’ll tell you the same thing we told them: Jenny’s in Japan. Snatched up by Adorable Creations straight out of college. She was headhunted. A couple of companies vied for her. One was American, based here in LA, but AC offered her more opportunity, so off she went. She’s been there ever since.”

“Except Christmases,” Selah said. She lifted the platter of cookies from the coffee table between us and wouldn’t set it down until we each took one. “She always makes a point of coming home for the holiday. She’s so busy, you know. She’s the director of the lab, or the title equivalent. If she takes too long off, the place falls to pieces.”

“What exactly does she do?” I asked.

“Nothing we normal people understand,” Selah said, and Harvey chuckled. “Once she gets talking about DNA, my eyes glaze over. It’s not that I don’t care; it just turns to gibberish in my ears.”

“She works in genetics?” Hudson prompted.

“She tinkers with the fundamentals of biological structure—her words. Her work is important,” Harvey said.

“Jenny always did love anything that required a microscope,” Selah said.

“Our combined DNA is definitely more than the sum of its parts in that girl.” Harvey and Selah shared a grin; this was a story they told often and with pride.

“If she came back to the States, do you know where she’d stay?” I asked.

“Right here. We haven’t made any changes to her room.”

“What about with a friend?”

For the first time, Selah lost her smile. “She’s never had time to make friends. Jenny’s so driven. First her studies; now her job. But that can’t last forever. Eventually she’ll find someone who will slow her down, help her see there’s life outside a lab.” A yellow diamond with “Baby on Board” popped into existence, hanging from a thick cord around Selah’s neck.

“Eh, she’s got plenty of time for all that,” Harvey said, waving away his wife’s concern. “She’s in her career prime, making discoveries and rising through the ranks. She can make nice with strangers later.” As if summoned by his wife’s divination, a neon-pink Hello Kitty sign glowed in the air above Harvey.

“Do you have a number where we could reach her?” Hudson asked.

While Selah went to the kitchen to get her address book, I excused myself to go to the restroom. Instead, I took a quick peek through the house. The ranch-style, single-story home featured three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Every room was neat, like they’d been expecting an inspection. Even Jenny’s preserved room looked more like a guest room than a teenager’s leftovers. I learned their travel bagua needed a complete overhaul, but if Jenny was hiding in their home, she hadn’t left a trace, and their pristine backyard had never housed an animal larger than a squirrel.

We left with a list of Jenny’s papers and publications, her Japanese phone number, her cell phone number, and a cookie each for the road.

“I don’t think they know Jenny is in LA, do you?” I asked Hudson once we were in the car.

“No.”

“What do you think the FBI wanted?”

“I’d rather know how much they know.”

“Do you think they suspect Jenny has an elephantini, whatever that is?”

“It’s a good possibility.”

Neither of us mentioned the possibility of the FBI having added us to their list of suspects in Jenny’s crime. Jenny’s paranoid warning to not trust the government rang in my ears. If the FBI were involved and determined I was a culprit, I might not have a choice.

“Well, that got us nowhere,” Hudson said.

I nodded. Other than having a new concern to add to the pile, we’d learned nothing new. Hudson and Ari had found out more about Jenny through the Internet than her parents seemed to know. My only consolation to the otherwise wasted trip was the time we’d spent inside had given Hudson’s car time to recoup.

When we checked in with Ari, she had nothing new to add, either.

“Her parents were right: Jenny doesn’t have any friends, at least not from high school, and none that I could find from college. No wonder she’s going around stealing elephants and dumping them on virtual strangers.”

I insisted on walking home from Ari’s. Hudson’s car needed another break from me, and I’d take the meager pick-me-up of minimal exercise to counteract my growing dismay. We’d run into a wall. Jenny could be anywhere in LA—in the world—and everyone I cared about remained embroiled in her criminal scheme. We needed a lead.

“I’ll go by my office later and see if I can’t dig anything else up on Jenny,” Hudson said, his thoughts in sync with mine. “Maybe her cell phone will give us some information, like her location.”

I tried to take heart. He and Ari had pulled more information out of less already.

“For a woman afraid of elevators, I think it’s odd that you picked the top floor,” Hudson said, breathing heavily, when we reached my loft.

“Keeps me fit.” I rummaged for my keys.

“That it does.”

His tone made me look up. His gaze had gone smoldering and he stood close. My left hand closed on my keys, but I didn’t pull them out. I reached for Hudson’s shirt with my right hand and pulled him against me. Looking up at him through my lashes, I slowly wet my lips. He pounced before my tongue was back in my mouth.

Hudson walked me backward into the door, his kiss igniting embers I’d held banked all day. His hands slid up my sides, sculpting my body’s curves. I arched into him, pushing against him to enjoy the firm planes of his body.

Vaguely, I remembered the keys and pulled them free. Hudson lifted his head when he heard the jangle, then snatched the keys from my grip.

“The brass one,” I said.

Hudson fumbled to get the key in the lock while kissing a hot path down my neck. I moaned, savoring the anticipation. With my hands free, I explored his chest, then slid lower to grab his ass. The door swung open, and we staggered into my loft. Hudson kicked the door shut behind us, slid my satchel from my shoulder to the floor, and reached for my shirt.

I stumbled backward, toward the living room, pulling Hudson with me by the waistband of his pants. Hudson tugged my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, then yanked me tight against him for a breathtaking kiss.

The backs of my legs slammed into something.

“Umph.”

I twisted to see what it was. A chair, the green one from the front room, lay on its side in the middle of the hallway. I stared at it, trying to process the fact that an inanimate object had moved while I’d been gone.

“Oh shit,” Hudson whispered.

I looked up. From the hallway, only a sliver of the front room was visible. The potted plant at the end of the hall lay in a smashed heap on the hardwood; glass shards splintered across the area rug beyond it. My upside-down couch canted against the fireplace, tufts of foam pinned beneath ripped armrests.

Ice sluiced through my veins and the blood drained from my head. “Wha—”

Hudson clamped a hand over my mouth. “Burglar,” he whispered. “Could still be here.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Hudson grabbed my shirt from the floor and tossed it at me, holding his index finger to his lips. I was rooted in place. My home, my sanctuary, had been violated.

Wrapping an arm around me, Hudson propelled me to the door. On autopilot, I grabbed my satchel. Hudson eased the door shut behind us.

“Do you know your neighbors?” he asked.

I pointed two doors down. He pulled me to Jed’s door and pounded on it. I stared at my shirt.

“Unless you want to give your neighbor a show, you might want to put that on,” Hudson said.

“Won’t matter. Jed’s gay.”

“Hey.” Hudson tilted my face with his hands until I stared into his eyes. “Snap out of it. I need you here.”

I blinked. The door opened and I jumped behind Hudson and stuffed my arms into my shirt, yanking it down.

“Look, I don’t know—”

“Jed, someone broke into my apartment,” I said.

“Eva?” Jed blinked at me, then turned a steely gaze back to Hudson.

“Call nine-one-one,” Hudson said.

Jed stuck his head into the hallway and peered toward my apartment. “Are they gone?”

“I don’t know.”

Jed grabbed both our arms and yanked us into his apartment. Troy rushed toward us, phone in hand, looking like an avenging Latin god: thick black hair slicked back, five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw, and topless, his nut brown skin and defined abs glistening with sweat.

“I heard,” Troy said; then he turned his attention to the cordless phone. “Yes, I need to report a break-in.”

“Are you okay?” Jed asked me, pulling me deeper into the loft and sitting me on their couch. I went willingly; I needed to get as far from the phone as possible. “You’re looking a little . . . askew.”

“I’m fine.” I glanced down at myself. My shirt was on backward. Fighting a losing battle against a blush, I pulled my arms into the sleeves of my shirt and turned it face forward.

“You should tell your man his pants are undone,” Jed said.

I whirled toward Hudson. He paced in front of Troy, who was still on the line with the 911 operator. The top button of his jeans was undone, and the zipper had slid down far enough to show the waistband of his underwear. Blue today. He’d changed them when he’d gone on his donut run a lifetime ago.

As if he felt the weight of my stare, Hudson glanced my way, then turned his back to the room and buttoned and zipped his pants.

“I love the honeymoon phase,” Jed said, his eyes on Troy.

The wait for the police was interminable. It took them twelve minutes, but I spiraled through a year’s worth of nightmares, all beginning and ending with Jenny. When the police arrived, they wouldn’t let us into the hallway until they verified my home was unoccupied.

“The burglars must have knocked out the electricity for this floor,” Troy said, gesturing to the dark bulb overhead. Nothing happened when he flicked a light switch.

“Odd,” I said. I paced the entryway, listening to the cops on their radios through the door. My feeble attempt to reinstate my normal barriers couldn’t counter the fear riding my thoughts.

I had my eye pressed to the peephole when the policeman gave the all clear, and I yanked the door open before his fist could make contact.

“Are you Eva Parker?” he asked. I nodded. “I’m Officer Bae. This is Officer Teague.” Caucasian and tall, Bae had sandy brown hair and a baby face. Teague was shorter, Asian, and bored. He tipped his head toward me, got a nod from Bae, and walked off toward the stairs. A calculator sat on his shoulder, spewing a stream of ticker tape that undulated up his leg like a boa constrictor.

“Was there anyone inside?” Hudson asked, coming up behind me.

“And you are?”

“Hudson Keyes. Eva’s boyfriend.”