Whispers of Danger and Love (11 page)

“Cheryl! Hello! What are you doing here? I thought you had left us and gone to join ‘the real work force.’ Tired of it already?” She laughed like the hyena she was.

“Hello, Alexia. It’s been a long time. How are you?” Cheryl hoped she had inherited some of her father’s ability to keep his feelings to himself. Alexia Williams was a high school acquaintance of hers who grew up to be the town crier. She married a geek who kept her in sports cars but seemed to look straight through her whenever they were out together. Cheryl wondered if he even remembered her name.

“I’m just having a quiet lunch with my parents, Alexia. You know how it is. Privacy is hard to come by.” Did you have to be hit over the head with a two-by-four?
Go away, Alexia
, Cheryl muttered in her thoughts. Finally the unwanted interruption left.

“Anyway, Dad and Mom, long story short, I found a body behind the tree that sat on the property line. I can’t say for sure, but it looked like he’d been shot. I confess I’m a bit shook up about it.”

They both exclaimed with horror.

“Did you call the police?”

“What did the police say?”

“Who was it?”

“Did you talk to David Larkin?” her father asked and looked relieved when she nodded yes.

“He came over while we were waiting for the police. He’ll probably be on the team that does the investigation.”

“You don’t think the Malones had anything to do with this corpse, do you?” her father asked. “They seemed totally innocuous when we chatted with them. I’ll see what I can find out and call you.”

“Fair enough. I have work to do when it stops raining.

“This is that total remake you’re doing for Sam Toledo up on the hill, right?” her dad asked. “What did David say about you working up there?”

Cheryl gave him a startled look. “Why should David have anything to say about where I work? Jeepers, Dad. You men think you have the say so over us women. I just got out of a relationship where a man thought he had the right to dictate my every move. You are my father and I respect your opinions, but I’m an adult. As for David . . .”

“Well, look who’s here. How are you, Mr. and Mrs. Esterbrook? And Jane. Haven’t seen you in ages.” Without even glancing at Cheryl’s father for permission to join them, Gordon pulled a chair from another table and settled, crowding between her and Jane.

Cheryl remembered belatedly why she disliked dining at the Country Club.

“Don’t you think you should have waited to be invited to join our table, Gordon?” Cheryl asked as she looked at her watch and then caught Jane’s eye. It was time for them to leave.

Reading the message correctly this time, Jane gathered her purse and murmured her thanks to Cheryl’s parents.

“Ha-ha. As if I was a stranger to the family when you know how close we all are. Right, Mrs. Esterbrook?” He looked to her mother for confirmation, but frowned slightly when she remained silent.

“How is retirement, Mr. Esterbrook? Getting any reading done? I’ll bet you’re enjoying those lazy days of doing nothing.”

Her father remained silent as well, and Gordon floundered.

As Cheryl stood and reached for her purse, Gordon jumped up and held her chair for her. She pointedly ignored him and leaned over to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mom.”

“Call me on that research topic, will you, Dad? I’ll wait to decide about the new project until I hear from you.” Cheryl kissed his cheek then called for her car. Jane and she stood outside waiting for the valet service.

Gordon, who had followed them from the dining room, persistently tried to engage her in conversation.

“I’ve postponed that business trip until you are free to join me, Cheryl. I know how you love visiting San Francisco.” He gave a hearty laugh as if he had said something witty.

Cheryl ignored him totally, while Jane nervously rubbed her eyes.

Relieved when her car was brought around, Cheryl slid behind the wheel while Jane popped in from the other side. Gordon kept a smile on his face.

“He loves you still, Cher,” Jane said. “Are you sure you made the right decision. Perhaps you just had a lover’s spat and . . . My God, he’s a doctor, for goodness’ sake! How many chances are you going to get?”

“No. You’re wrong, Jane. He never loved me.” Cheryl shook her head. “I don’t want to talk it. Please. I just wish he would accept that our relationship is dead and buried. Darn. Wish I’d found another word to describe it. Dead isn’t my favorite word these days.”

“What did David say about the poor man with the holes in his head? Did he say it was a murder?” Jane persisted.

“He really didn’t say much at all about it, really. He did promise me details tonight. I can’t believe we were the ones to find that man. I only wanted a closer look at the young oak. What did the Malones say when you spoke with them?”

“She didn’t seem so upset, but she had no idea it was a murder. They just told her there was a corpse up there and to stay in her house until the police tended to it.” Jane turned to her and spoke urgently. “Cheryl, do you think they killed that poor man?”

“No. Emphatically not. I just wanted to know what my father knew about their background. I don’t want to take the job if there’s anything shady about them. Let’s think of more pleasant subjects for the rest of the day, shall we? Surely we can think of something.”

“Well, how about how good-looking your next-door neighbor is, and when do you think he will have another volleyball game?” Jane tried for an innocent face but failed.

Chapter 10

The rains had started again. Cheryl peered out the window at the threatening clouds that evening and turned to check the weather forecast on TV. She would be seriously behind if this kept up. She was in the process of warming a fragrant pot of vegetable soup. It felt right for this rainy, chilly evening. She reached for her cell phone and dialed Larkin’s number.

“You wanna come over for dinner? I made soup and biscuits.” She laughed at the enthusiastic response and heard the back door opening almost before she put the phone down.

“I was already on my way over. I swear I was gonna invite you out to dinner, but this is a much better idea. Ummm. Smells wonderful.” He reached for the spoon and dipped out a large portion. He blew, trying to cool it, but then impatiently sipped at the broth.

Swear words floated around the kitchen as he hopped up and down and grabbed for a glass of water.

“You just couldn’t wait. Ole instant gratification David. I remember you,” she said as she helped him to an ice cube.

“I twied to waith, but it thmelled so gooth,” he said around the washcloth he had wrapped around the ice cube. “I’th all your fauld. Ou thouldn’t oth made it so good.” He frowned at her.

“Oh sure. Shift the blame to someone else for your own actions. I remember that one too.” She smiled as she teased him, but was halfway serious. David sharpened his gaze.

“You’re still mad at me about that plant, sweetkins? I am sorry. I said I was sorry and I tried.” He walked toward her but she backed away.

“No, that’s not it, David. Forget it. I’ve had a rough day and I’m tired.”

“I know, Cher. I’m sorry you had to see that. You want to talk about it now?”

“Let’s have some soup first. The biscuits are just about ready. Sit down, and I’ll get us something to drink. You still okay with milk?”

He grinned and grabbed a chair. “You remember that, do you? I’m a growing boy. Love my milk.”

She served steaming bowls of chunky vegetable soup stocked with left over pot roast. Hot biscuits were ready. She joined him at the table and then popped up almost immediately.

“Forgot the butter. You want jam with the biscuits too?” Knowing his answer, she sat a jar of homemade strawberry jam on the table and then collapsed into her chair.

“I’m almost too tired to eat,” she said but sipped the rich broth spoonful by spoonful. Delicious, if she said so herself.

“Your tongue too painful?” She watched David dig into the warm biscuits, as he slathered them with strawberry jam then licked his fingers. She squirmed and turned her head away.

“Nope. Just being cautious. Thought I’d give it a little more time to cool.” He looked up and caught her eye.

She could feel her face turning red, and she glared at him wordlessly, as a grin left his entire face covered with delight at her predicament. Of course, it would. Plant killer and womanizer that he was. Women probably just dropped like flies in front of him. Didn’t even need jam.

“Tell me about the murder,” she said, trying to cool the atmosphere and guide it back to business. She spooned up some soup and gingerly handled a hot buttered biscuit as she waited for the story.

“I’ve actually told you about all I can. You knew we were looking for this man. He was from out of town, and we think he was supposed to meet with Sam Toledo. We don’t know who killed him, but suspect it wasn’t Sam. The two of them had a sort of business deal coming down, and we hoped to intercept it. There’s one more man, the other one in the photo, we’d like to get our hands on. If he turns up dead, we might have something bigger than we expected in the works.” He juggled his biscuit and blew on it.

“Do you know why the dead man was left on the Malone’s property? And are they involved? That would be sort of important for me to know before I sign any contract to work with them.” She concentrated on her soup and refused to meet his eyes. Enough was enough.

“We don’t have any idea why he was there. As to the Malones, my advice would be for you to drop any contact with them for the time being.” He finished his soup with a final slurp, then patted his stomach and kissed his forefinger and thumb in a gesture of approval.

“But you’re saying you don’t have any real reason to suspect involvement at this time. What if the Malones know nothing about this business? I really don’t want to lose this job.”

“Jobs come and go,” he said breezily. “Best to be safe, Cher.” His attitude had her ire rising like a frog to a buzzing fly.

“I’m already involved with Toledo and with your approval. Are you saying it’s too dangerous for me to be there?” She knew she had him.

He frowned and sat forward in his chair with a firm thump. “I hated it that I’ve had to ask for your help. I wish you’d just said you couldn’t do it and canceled any contract.”

“I have no intention of doing that. I did sign a contract and I won’t just cancel without reason. All you have are suspicions. True?”

He ran his fingers through his hair in a parody of frustration which made her grin.

“Cher. Why can’t you just do as you are told without all these questions? You are the most stubborn of little girls I’ve ever . . .” He hit his fist quietly on the table.

“Wait just a darn minute. Are you calling me a little girl? Look again, Larkin. I grew up a long time ago. And I make my own decisions. You aren’t my father and I doubt if I’d do what even my father said without a very good reason.”

He came around the table, pulling her up to stand beside him. “Do you see how much smaller you are than me?” He rested his head on hers momentarily. “You are a grown-up woman, but still little. Sweetest little girl. Been my favorite since you were thirteen.” He swooped down and landed a fierce kiss on her up-turned lips, holding her to him by the back of her neck with his other hand around her waist. “I can certainly tell you are grown-up,” he said, taking a deep breath, and she realized with horror that she had responded just as fiercely back.

Had she lost her mind? She jerked away and put a chair between them. Detective David Larkin, plant killer and seducer of young women who needed their heads examined.

“I’ll consider your advice, David, but I must make my own business decisions.”

“Then I will leave you tonight. If you have bad dreams, call me. I can be over in a flash,” he said. He placed an arm around her as they walked toward the back door. “I really mean that, honey. I promise to behave. I don’t want you scared.” He molded her to his hard chest, his big arm wrapped almost completely around and laid his cheek against the top of her head for a moment. Then he tilted her face up to him staring deep into her eyes before abruptly letting her go and disappearing into the night. She stood motionless until she heard his back door slam shut, and then had to fight against the sudden vacuum his leaving had left.

So strange. Her feelings for this too-handsome-for-her-own-good man were in such conflict. She wanted him to leave and the minute he did, she wanted him back. She was sexually attracted to him and yet terrified of the depth of her feelings. She fought an ever-losing battle to maintain control over them. And longed to lose the battle every time she was within ten feet of him.

She trundled into an old and well-loved T-shirt that extolled the virtues of digging in the dirt and a pair of don’t-ask-where-they-came-from boxer shorts. Waves of weariness swam over her muscles, and she crawled thankfully into bed. And lay there not sleeping. When her eyes closed, she could see grotesque bugs crawling out of the dead man’s nose.
Eww
. She sat up in bed, turned on the light, grabbed a book, and attempted to read herself to sleep. Almost there. Finally, she turned out the light and closed her eyes.

What was that noise? She lay rigid, not moving a muscle while she strained to hear and identify the noise from the front room.

Probably the parrot. She could shift around in her cage and make all sorts of . . . No, that wasn’t the bird. Cheryl reached quietly for her cell phone which was on the nightstand and just as quietly, hardly breathing, she dialed David. Better to be embarrassed because she panicked, spooked over finding . . .

“David?” she whispered.

“Cher, that you? What’s up?” He sounded wide-awake, thank goodness.

“Someone is trying to get inside the office. Keeps rattling the doorknob and scratching around at the windows. Can you come over?” Her nerves were stretched to the limit, her breath caught on a sob.

“Hang on, sweets. I’ll be right over. You stay in your bedroom so I don’t trip over you in the dark, okay?”

She nodded as if he could see her, but he was gone already. She could hear dead air.

She lay with the covers pulled over her head, hearing what she wished she couldn’t. Someone was determined to break into her shop and now rattling her bedroom window. She could hear the parrot, awake in her cage, squawking, “Naughty Boy.” But she knew it wasn’t David.

The window right beside her bed rattled and started to rise slowly. Terror shot into her veins and speed raced around her body. The night was full of horror, all looking like dead men with insects crawling out of every orifice. She jumped out of bed, ran for the bathroom, and locked the door. She opened the cupboard underneath the sink and tried to stuff herself in. Too tight . How to hide? She curled herself into a ball and huddled on the floor. Where was David?

Then she heard a man shouting outside. She opened the bathroom door cautiously and peered out. Loud shouts and cursing. David seemed to be trying to persuade someone to do something. Not even the dim light from a nearby streetlight could penetrate the darkness. She screamed as a distorted face pressed itself directly against the glass of the window.

David called out to her to open the back door. Was he kidding? She leaned against the door but screamed again when something large slammed against it.

“Cheryllll,” someone called out to her, but the distortion in the voice . . . Who was it? He sounded vaguely familiar.

David called out to her again.

“I’m not opening this door to some monster,” she called back. She heard David, her hero, the Monster Killer, laugh, but curse the next moment.

“Not a real monster, Cher. Just a drunk one,” he said. “Open up, honey. Just long enough for me to get this . . . Will you stop it! I don’t want to use force against you. Just calm down.” He knocked on the door urgently.

Slowly, she opened the door with the night chain still latched. She peeked through the opening to see David’s eyes crinkled with laughter peering back at her.

“Open up, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about. Just one of your many suitors come to call. I think we need to infuse him with a bit of black coffee before we send him on his way.” In he walked, dragging Gordon by the collar. A very, very drunk Gordon who smelled as if he might have vomited on himself. He grinned foolishly at Cheryl.

“Not a pretty sight,” David said. “You might want to go back to bed and let me handle him, honey. He promised me he would behave if only he could see you for just a minute. Seen enough, fellow?” David winced as Gordon started weeping copiously and reaching for Cheryl. “Too much! Okay, let’s go. Gordon, is it?”

“I’ll call for a black-and-white to give him a ride home. He’s really gone. No sense in sobering him up tonight. He can find his car tomorrow. It’s not in the driveway. I wonder if he even remembers where he parked it.” He dragged Gordon out the back door, turning to wink and blow a kiss to Cheryl.

Cheryl stood like a stone statue.
What more could happen this day?
Exhaustion ran in undulating rings around her body as she crept quietly back to her bed. She thought of Detective David Larkin, Superman, the ex-boyfriend handler, her friend, and sometimes plant killer who caused the ladies to lose their minds.

She thought about his grin and wink as he left her to drag the disgusting sot out into the night.
David is my hero. Superman with brown eyes and . . .
Sleep overcame her quickly.