Bad Guys Don't Win (Janet Maple Series Book 4) (7 page)

Mila stared back at him silently,
blinking away tears. “I guess not. But I can’t just disappear. I have to sort
things out with the insurance agents and figure out how to rebuild Amy and
Mila’s—”

“I could be wrong, but I doubt you’ll be
able to do any of these things stuck in a basement somewhere with your hands
tied and a gag in your mouth, or worse.”

Mila eyed him with a terrified stare.

“And that’s best case scenario. I doubt
Anton Kovar has a warm reunion in mind when it comes to you.”

“And whose fault is that?” Mila shot
back. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. When I
testified against the Kovars, the feds promised me protection, and now we can’t
even go to the feds and I’m supposed to be running away like some scared
rabbit.”

Dennis grabbed Mila’s arm. “Be thankful
that you still got legs to run away,” he muttered. “The Kovars are no joke. And
I didn’t get you into this mess—you were already up to your neck with the
Kovars when I met you. If anything, I helped you get away from Anton.”

“And look how well that turned out,”
Mila spat back.

“You should’ve been more careful with
your choice of men. Shacking up with Anton Kovar wasn’t exactly a smart move—”
Dennis broke off, noticing the wounded look in Mila’s eyes. “I’m sorry. That
was too much. I know it’s hard on you, but you have to stay focused, Mila. You
have to help me protect you.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll do whatever
you say.”

Exhausted, Janet opened her apartment
door and was promptly pounced on by Baxter, her Jack Russell Terrier. Baxter
was always happy to see her, but tonight he was particularly excited as he
could no doubt smell the contents of the bag Janet was carrying from Francois
Bissette’s.

“Easy there, Baxter.” Janet lifted up
the bag and set it on top of the shoe chest where it was safely out of Baxter’s
reach. She bent down to scratch Baxter behind his ear. “I missed you too.”

Baxter barked loudly, looked back at her
and then at the shoe chest, propping his front paws against it in an attempt to
reach the top.

Janet shook her finger. “Naughty boy.
Sweets are bad for you. Did you have a nice walk with Mrs. Chapman?” Mrs.
Chapman was Janet’s neighbor. A former librarian and part time opera singer,
Mrs. Chapman was now retired. But she still maintained her love of the opera
and spent her days playing the piano and singing her favorite arias.

Baxter ignored Janet’s question, his
eyes fixed expectantly on the top of the shoe box.

“Come on,” Janet said. “It’s time for
dinner.”

She went into the kitchen, reached for a
can of Baxter’s favorite dog food, and emptied its contents into his bowl.
“Baxter, come here, boy! Time for dinner.” Normally when it came to food, Janet
didn’t have to call Baxter’s name twice, but in a battle between savory and
sweet, the latter clearly won, as Baxter remained in the foyer, his eyes glued
to the Francois Bissette bag.

“All right,” Janet caved in, walking
over and grabbing the bag. “Finish your dinner and I’ll let you have a small
treat.”

Baxter barked one more time in protest,
but seeing that she wasn’t about to budge, trotted over to his bowl and began
to consume its contents hungrily.

“See? It’s your favorite.”

Janet set the bag on top of the kitchen
counter and wondered what to do with the rest of her evening. Consuming wedding
cake samples with no one but Baxter for company was not at all how she’d
pictured it. Dennis should be there. They should be feeding each other cake,
licking the icing off each other’s lips, and having a wonderful time of it.
Instead, Dennis was spending the evening with Mila Brabec. The image of Mila on
a bar stool, with her long, model-like legs crisscrossed seductively, flashed
before Janet’s eyes. So maybe Dennis was right and the Kovars had indeed
escaped, which theoretically made it possible for Mila to have legitimate
reasons to see Dennis, but it still didn’t give him the right to lie to Janet
and leave her alone to stuff her face with cake.

Janet was so consumed by her
self-pitying thoughts that when she heard her doorbell ring, she nearly jumped.
She rushed to the front door and opened it.

“Mrs. Chapman!” Janet plastered a bright
smile on her face, struggling to conceal her disappointment. She really wasn’t
in the mood for one of Mrs. Chapman’s chats tonight, but then her neighbor’s
visit was her own fault. She should’ve stopped by Mrs. Chapman’s and thanked
her for walking Baxter, which was their custom.

“Janet, dear. I just wanted to say hello
and make sure everything was all right.” Mrs. Chapman smiled sweetly.

“Everything is great. Thank you so much
for walking Baxter. Did he behave?”

As if on cue, the sound of Baxter’s
hurrying paws was heard in the foyer, as he raced to inspect the unexpected
visitor. At the sight of Mrs. Chapman, he barked with approval, pawing at her
legs.

“Baxter! How many times do I have to
tell you? That’s no way to behave.” Janet bent down and picked him up.

“Oh, it’s all right.” Mrs. Chapman
scratched his neck. “He’s such a good boy,” she gushed. “I tell you, I love
Dennis to tears and I’m very happy for you two, but it’s a shame you’re
moving—I’m going to miss Baxter so.”

“You can always come by and visit,”
Janet said, setting Baxter on the floor.
The way things are going it’s
unlikely we’ll find a place any time soon though
, she wanted to add, but
held her tongue.

“Good. And don’t you think I won’t take
you up on your offer. An old lady like me doesn’t get out too often.”

“I hardly think that’s true, Mrs.
Chapman,” Janet joked. An active member of the local community center, Mrs.
Chapman was constantly organizing a dance or a concert or some other social
event. Janet and Dennis were always invited, but rarely attended due to the
fact that most of these events had a demographic of sixty five and older.
Baxter, on the other hand, was frequently the guest of honor.

“So, how did the wedding cake tasting
go?” Mrs. Chapman asked.

“It went fine, just fine.” Janet
regretted sharing her plans with Mrs. Chapman. With a fiancé like Dennis, one
had to be careful or risk humiliating explanations. “I got a whole bag full of
samples—would you like to come in and try some? I’ll make tea,” Janet added, changing
her mind about Mrs. Chapman’s company—at least she wouldn’t be stuffing her
face with cake alone.

“Thank you, dear. I don’t mind if I do.”
Mrs. Chapman stepped inside.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Janet
pointed at the couch in the living room. “I’ll just turn the kettle on.”

“Thank you. I’ll just turn the TV on.
Let me know if you need me to help in the kitchen.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I got it.”

Janet made her way to the kitchen,
rejoicing in her cleverness. Mrs. Chapman had a sweet tooth, and she sure loved
her tea—so far her ploy to keep her off the topic of Dennis seemed to work.

While waiting for the water to boil,
Janet took out a tray and began to unpack the cake samples that Francois
Bissette had prepared. Her eyes widened with admiration as she eyed the bag’s
contents. She had expected mere slices, but instead she had found miniature
wedding cakes, each the size of a cupcake.

Janet carried the tray into the living
room. “Please, help yourself.”

“My, these are adorable!” Mrs. Chapman
eyed the elaborate confections with admiration. “They’re almost too pretty to
eat.”

“Please, dig in,” Janet urged her,
worried if Mrs. Chapman didn’t help her, she might devour the entire tray
herself, drowning in self-pity. “I’ll just get the tea.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, Janet,
dear.” Mrs. Chapman cut a piece from one of the cakes and put it on her plate.
She took a bite and savored it. “My, these are as good as they look! Absolutely
delicious.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Janet called
out from the kitchen. She picked up the tea mugs and headed back to the living
room.

“Like them? It’s one of the most
delicious things I’ve ever tasted, not to mention the prettiest. You know I’ll
be expecting my invitation to the wedding in the mail, right? Just because
we’re neighbors doesn’t mean you get to skimp out on the card.”

“Oh, of course, Mrs. Chapman. You’ll be
the first to receive your invitation.”
If we ever get around to mailing them
out
, Janet thought, but held her tongue.

As if reading her mind, Mrs. Chapman
continued, “So which cake have you decided upon for the wedding?”

“Oh, we haven’t actually decided yet,”
Janet confessed, figuring that there was no way of fooling Mrs. Chapman.

“Didn’t Dennis like any of the cakes?”

“He hasn’t tasted them.” Janet blinked,
sensing treacherous wetness in her eyes.

Mrs. Chapman set down her plate. “Oh,
Janet, dear, what’s wrong? Me and my big mouth—I didn’t mean to upset you. Are
you two going through a rough patch?”

Janet sobbed, nodding. “I think so.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. But you’re going to ask me
about it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Not because I want to rub it in or
some such thing, but because I consider myself to be your friend, albeit a much
older one. And if there’s one thing that friends are good for, it’s talking
about things that hurt. Talking helps—believe me—I know.”

Janet sighed. “Dennis didn’t come to the
cake tasting with me.”

“Well, why the heck not?”

“He said he had to work.”

“And? You caught him with a mistress?”
Mrs. Chapman exclaimed excitedly and then instantly covered her mouth. “Don’t
mind me. I’ve watched too many movies. I’m sure he had a reasonable
explanation.”

Janet was about to blurt out the entire
story, but caught herself just in time—who knew what trail of dirt Mila Brabec
might be dragging behind her? The last thing Janet wanted was to put Mrs.
Chapman in danger by inadvertently telling her things that might turn out to be
harmful. After all, as gossipy as she was, Janet loved the old lady like she
was kin. “I can’t tell you the specifics, but I can say that I saw him with a
girl, a very good-looking girl.”

“I don’t care how good-looking she is,
she can’t be prettier than you,” Mrs. Chapman said adamantly. “And if Dennis
can’t see that, well then he’s just an idiot and not at all the smart gentleman
I thought him to be.”

Janet smiled. “Thanks for trying to
cheer me up, but I’m afraid she’s prettier than me, a lot prettier.”

Mrs. Chapman shook her head. “I don’t
believe it. What does she look like?”

“Like a model. She’s got a body that
could stop traffic and she’s not afraid to show it.”

“Tsk!” Mrs. Chapman shrugged. “Not all
men go for those bony giraffe types. And as for showing it, there should be
some mystique left in a woman.”

“Yes, well, that may be, but the two of
them were getting pretty cozy.”

“Did you see him kiss her?”

“No.”

“So what’s the trouble? Maybe it was a
business meeting. She could have the information Dennis needs. Sometimes even a
bimbo can be useful.”

“Maybe. But why did he lie to me about
it? Why didn’t he tell me he was meeting her? And why did he have to ditch our
wedding cake tasting to meet her?”

“Maybe it was urgent. And maybe he
didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to upset you or maybe it’s something
very dangerous and he wanted to protect you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any
better—that he’d put himself in danger for that bimbo and blow off our wedding
cake tasting.”

Mrs. Chapman patted Janet’s shoulder.
“Sometimes men do irrational things. As women, it’s our job to forgive them.”

“Why?” Janet bristled at Mrs. Chapman’s
old-fashioned statement.

“Because when you love a man you have to
be willing to cut him some slack. Trust me, I know—I was married for a long
time and now that my husband is no longer with us, all the arguments we had
seem mere trifles. It’s important to remember what the important things are,”
Mrs. Chapman added sagely.

Janet nodded—it was hard to argue
against the old lady’s sobering statement. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. I’ve lived a long
life, even if I don’t like admitting to it.”

“So what should I do? Pretend I don’t
know anything about it? Keep up the charade?”

Mrs. Chapman squeezed Janet’s arm. “Just
talk to him, Janet. Sometimes, life causes us to drift apart from our loved
ones, but if you listen to your inner compass, you’ll always find the way back.
If I ever saw two people in love, it’s you and Dennis. It shouldn’t be too hard
for you two to find a common ground.”

“I’ll try.”

“Trying isn’t good enough. You have to
genuinely want to make it work.” Mrs. Chapman patted Janet’s arm and got up to
her feet. “Time for this old bird to call it a night. You’ve got a lot of
thinking to do, young lady.”

Suddenly, Janet didn’t want to be alone.
“Couldn’t you stay for another cup of tea?”

“Some other night, dear. I think you
could use some quiet time right now.” Mrs. Chapman petted Baxter behind the
ear. “See you soon, Baxter. Be a good boy now, your mommy needs time to think.
Good night, Janet. Everything is going to work out—you’ll see.”

At the sound of the front door shutting
behind Mrs. Chapman, Janet sighed and rubbed her temples. Up until a few
minutes ago, she had been basking in her own righteousness, looking forward to
reading Dennis the riot act, but now she wasn’t so sure. Could it be that Mrs.
Chapman had a point? Maybe. It was impossible to deny that Janet had been a
little antsy with the wedding planning and the apartment search. Could it be
that she was overreacting? But the thought that Dennis had ditched their
wedding cake appointment to see Mila made her blood boil. And to think she’d
actually felt sorry for Mila at some point! So much for being charitable to
people—the minute you gave them the benefit of the doubt, they stabbed you in
the back and lured your fiancé into a questionable rendezvous. “Argh,” Janet
groaned, wondering where on earth Dennis was now. Was he still with Mila,
listening to her sultry voice while she batted her eyelashes at him? Janet
thought of calling him, but decided against it. Let him call her—after all, he
was the one who had all the explaining to do.

Just then she heard her doorbell ring.
Baxter barked excitedly and darted for the door.