Guilty Pleasures (28 page)

She fluttered a hand. “I’ll visit one of these days. I’ve been so busy lately. You know how busy I am, Dusty. Phoenix calls every day, bless her dear heart. And I talk to the babies.”

“Hey, Dust.” The sound of Nasty’s voice startled Polly. “Get Seven and take her in with you, will you? Make sure she eats. She gets funny when I’m not around.”

“Sure I’ll feed her.”

“Seven’s Nasty’s cat,” Rose said, seating herself at the bench before a white grand piano. “Cats love Nasty. That’s always a sign of a good person—if cats love them. Cats and any animals. You come back soon, Dusty. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, Rose,” Dusty said. “I’ll see myself out, Nellie. And I’ll keep an eye out for Seven. Don’t suppose you’d like me to check on that damn
…
I mean that boat of yours, Nasty.”

“That’d be nice.”

“That’d be nice,” Dusty mimicked. “Never mind the damn
…
I mean, never mind the great big expensive boat. Doesn’t give that any more thought than an IBS, property of the US governm
ent. But he worries his fool…
He worries about that mangy, ungrateful cat, though.”

“Don’t speed on the way home,” Nasty said. He moved
close to Polly, and said in a low voice, “He always cleans up his mouth for kids, and Rose.”

Dusty stopped in the doorway. He stared at Polly. “I picked up a little something to give to your mom. Because she helped me out that time. Would you take a quick look at it before I go—-just to let me know if she’ll like it. I haven’t had much experience buying gifts.”

“Except for kid gifts,” Nasty muttered. “Ask to see the playroom sometimes.”

Polly gave a half smile and excused herself. With a feeling of relief, she emerged from the house into the brightening sunlight on the veranda.

“It’s not her fault,” Dusty said, coming to a halt at the bottom of the steps. “Her father sheltered her. From what we can figure, her mother took off with some man when Rose was a little kid and her father never got over it. He probably had some old-world notion about kids inheriting their parents’ rotten traits.”

“Some do.”

“Yeah. But they don’t always. And you gotta let people have a chance to live.”

“She’s young. Maybe she’ll change.”

He gave her a hard look. “She’s not as young as she looks. At least, that’s the way I figure it. And she’s happy. Could be she ought to be allowed to stay the way she is. There’s plenty of people hereabouts who think so. She’d do anything for a friend. Maybe we should say prayers we run into more people like Rose Smothers. Anyways, it’s not my business.”

“You’re sure it isn’t too much for her? Having Bobby and me here?”

“Look at her face. Look at the smile in those brown eyes of hers. She won’t want you to go at all. She’ll make you promise to come back and visit and you’ll do it. Remember I told you that. And you’ll come back to visit Rose. Everyone does.”

Still uncomfortable, Polly shrugged and joined him on the
gravel driveway. She started for the camper, but Dusty’s arthritic hand on her elbow stopped her.

“That was a crock,” he said. “What I told you about something for Venus.”

Startled she turned back. “I wondered what you were talking about. When you said she’d done something for you. I couldn’t think what it had been.”

“She’d do something quick enough if I asked.” Defensiveness on her mother’s behalf was the last thing Polly would have expected from Dusty. “She’s a good woman, your mother. Generous. Spontaneous. Too many people spend a lot of time thinking before they do anything. That way they often never get around to it. When I get back to Kirkland I think
I
will just find something for Venus. Woman like that deserves a little thoughtfulness.”

For the second time that morning Polly felt she’d entered the Twilight Zone. “I’m sure she’d be very grateful. Was there a reason for you to get me out here with you?”

He frowned. “Of course there’s a reason. Why would I tell lies if I didn’t have a reason.”

“You wouldn’t.” She waited. When he didn’t say anything more, Polly asked “What’s an IBS?”

Dusty’s jutting brows drew even lower. “Why would you ask a fool question like that? Out of the blue?”

“Because you mentioned it,” she told him, becoming impatient. “IBS, US government issue. You said—”

“All right. Sure I did. I was just checking to make sure you’d heard exactly what I said. Navy term. SEALs. IBS. Inflatable Boat Small. Standard issue to SEAL teams.”

“I see.” She didn’t really.

“Hmm.”

Polly cleared her throat. “Nice camper.”

“Hmm.”

“Nasty said there was a fire in it once.”

“Stupid,” Dusty said his frown not even softening. “Stupid
trick. Good job Nasty’s quick. He’s always been quick. He and Roman were the best men I ever trained.”

She raised her brows in question.

Dusty reddened slightly. “I was their trainer. SEAL officers are always trained by enlisted men. It’s part of the discipline. Same for all special forces.”

The bond between these men made her a little jealous. How much room would any of them ever have for someone else? Out of habit, to mask any feelings that might show on her face, she made a study of her tennis shoes.

“I gotta get goin’.”

“Yes. Thanks for helping bring us. I think it was easier having you with Bobby. He’d have nailed me with his questions.”

“Nice boy,” he said. “Needs a man around.”

“Kids do,” she said automatically.

“No disrespect, but
I
understand his father’s not much good.”

“No disrespect taken,” Polly said. “Sam’s a loser. He always was a loser. I don’t want him anywhere near Bobby.”

“Nasty’ll make sure he doesn’t get a chance,” Dusty said. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

He had her entire attention. “About Bobby?”

“About Nasty. He’s important to me.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Sharp eyes bored into her. “
I
wonder if you do. What’s he to you?”

She swallowed air.

“Just a man? Or something else?”

“We
…
” This wasn’t anything she’d expected from Dusty Miller. “We haven’t had a lot of opportunity to know each other yet.”

“I think you have. I believe in instinct where people are concerned. So does Nasty. He had to make his own breaks. I don’t suppose he’s told you that.”

“No.”

“No. He wouldn’t. But I know. He’s sure of
himself now.
Comfortable. Hell of a SEAL, let me tell you. The best, him and Roman. This country’s lucky to have men like them.”

Polly regarded him, and said, “And like you.”

Dusty waved a hand. “Never mind me. What’s Nasty to you? I asked.”

She pressed a forefinger to each temple. Even the fresh morning air didn’t clear her head enough. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Yes, you are. Either you want him, or you don’t.”

“Did he ask you to talk to me?”

“He’d kill me if he knew I was talking to you.”

Kill. She wondered for an instant if she could talk to Dusty about her misgivings at the thought of Nasty being a man who had killed other men. Would Dusty understand why she trembled at the idea of making such a man a permanent part of her life, of her son’s life?

“I want to know,” Dusty said.

“Why? We’re both grown-ups. You have to allow grown-ups to make their own way, Dusty.”

He shuffled his feet. “I promised myself I’d always look out for Nasty and Roman if they needed me.”

“You’re loyal.”

“So are they. So’s Nasty. That’s how he ended up with a shattered ankle and lying half-dead in a South American jungle.”

“I’m not going to do anything to hurt Nasty. I
…
I care too much about him for that.”

She received another brilliant-eyed stare. “Care?”

“Yes. Yes, I do care about Nasty.”

Several seconds passed before he said, “It’s going to have to be more than that. He let on how he told you he might be able to
…
well, to love you.”

Sweat gathered between Polly’s shoulder blades. She felt oppressed and excited, at the same time. “He did say that. He also told me afterward that he’d been hasty. I think—”

“I don’t think he was hasty. He tried to back off a bit because he was afraid he might scare you off by coming on too strong. He told me that, too.”

“Dusty, I don’t think Nasty would feel good about us having this conversation.”

“We’re having it anyway. And I’m telling you one thing before
I
go. He’s trying to hold back. I may not have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but I know I’m right. Don’t hurt him.”

Polly glanced toward the house. “I couldn’t hurt him. Men like Xavier Ferrito don’t hurt that easily.”

“They might if they did something dumb. Like love a woman who doesn’t love them back.”

“Dusty…”

He stared her to silence. “No. Hear what I’m saying to you.
A man like him could hurt big time if this woman was the first and only one he’d ever allowed himself to love. Don’t let it go any farther if you aren’t ready for what it’ll mean. It’s all or nothing for men like Nasty Ferrito. He was trained to hate without holding back. But he trained easy because it was instinct for him. He’ll be the same way about love.”

Polly needed to sit down.

“If you can’t handle that,” Dusty said, “you’d better tell him to get out now.”

Tw
enty-one

“
N
o guest hosts,” Jack told Mary. There had to be a way to distract her without drawing the attention he couldn’t afford.

She hummed and began to dance, swirling her hair, shaking her hips, strutting between the abandoned cameras. They’d sent the crews home at noon, when Art and Jennifer Loder decided to scream at each other and refuse to continue.

Gavin clapped in time with Mary and laughed. “You’ve got to admit she’s talented, Jacko,” he said.

“You’ve got to be good to keep bread on the table in L
.
A
.
,” Jack said, preparing for Mary’s fury, but not caring. “If you’re trying to make it in the business, that is. Mary found it helped if you could be on the table with the bread. Danced on a lot of tables in your time, didn’t you, Mary love?”

She gave him the finger and kept on dancing. She and Art had shown up two hours late and in Jack’s Mercedes. Mary had made some excuse about Art coming to her rescue when she needed to get away.

“Could we get it together here?” He pummeled his fist on a trestle table loaded with props. “We’re going to have to use our time, people.”

Her face flushed, Mary stopped in front of him. “The truth is we can’t afford to
waste
time, darling. I say we go in tomorrow with a guest host. Me. Polly’s sick. We pride ourselves on real themes, let’s give ’em a real, real theme. Polly’s sick and we’re all worried about her but we’re carrying on.”

“No way,” Jack said. This wasn’t the first time Mary had
paraded her ambition to be on the other side of the camera. “Forget it. End of topic. And we’re getting behind,
darling.
We need to spend time on upcoming segments.”

Dressed in street clothes again, Art strolled from the direction of the dressing rooms. “Sorry about that,” he said. He was ruffled, had been ruffled since he’d finally showed up with Mary.

“Yeah,” Jack said. Mary was sleeping with the guy. If he’d had any doubt, this morning’s deliberate flaunting of their relationship had snuffed it out. “This is a small cast. I created it that way for a reason.”

“You created it? You didn’t have any help with the concept?”

He ignored Mary. “I wanted an intimate group.”

“Oh, we’re intimate,” Gavin said, looking at no one. “Are we intimate? Oh, yeah, we’re so intimate,” he sang, conducting with a paintbrush.

“Polly’s absence is unfortunately timed,” Jack said. “We’re going to have to put off what we had planned and work on some stuff we can plug her into later.”

Jennifer joined them. “Polly’s my friend, but I don’t think she should have left like this. Puts us all in a bind.”

“Shut up, Jen,” Art said.

“Damn you,” Jennifer snapped back. “Get off my back, will you? I don’t need your bleeding permission to speak.”

“Children, children,” Gavin said, holding up his arms as if to separate them. “I’ve got a perfect idea. I know Jack and Mary are going to kick themselves for not thinking of this themselves.” He paused for a dramatic moment, making certain every eye was upon him. “We’ll do a piece on a trip to the circus! How about that?”

“Gavin,” Mary said, the first to recover. “Be serious, will you?”

“I am serious.” The man’s eyes opened innocently wide. “Polly’s sick and we’re all going to the circus to keep our minds off being worried. Or
…
Yes, yes, I like this even better. Polly’s not sick. We’re checking out the circus so we can give her a surprise when we take her there. We could do all the side stuff—”

“Stuff it, Gavin,” Mary said. Her lips came together in a tight line.

An outside door opened, letting in a shaft of bright, afternoon light. A man came into the building, and the light went out behind him. He stood where he was, just inside the door. Jack couldn’t see who it was.

"This is a soundstage, buddy,” Art called out.

“Cripes,” Jennifer said. “For all you know it’s someone important dropping in.”

“Afternoon,” Jack said shortly. “What can we do for you?”

With his hands in his pockets, the man walked forward between scattered chairs and heaps of cables. “I’m looking for Polly Crow,” he said.

“Aren’t we all?” Mary said, not quite under her breath.

Jack narrowed his eyes to see the man. Tall, with black, curly hair, he appeared to be in his thirties. A body that had almost certainly been hard, had softened. The face was still dramatic in a disappointed way.

“Polly isn’t here?” he asked. Then he thudded the heel of a hand into his brow. “Damn, where’s my brain? She said something about not knowing exactly what she’d be doing this morning.”

Cool premonition tiptoed up Jack’s spine. “Polly told you that?” He felt trouble—more trouble.

“Yeah. I forgot. Is there a Jen Loder around?” The man’s clothes were expensive, and he wore them carelessly.

Jennifer crossed her arms. “I’m Jennifer Loder. Why d’you want to know?”

The guy seemed oblivious to the subtle drawing together of the cast. Jack almost smiled. They fought with each other, but they belonged to a different—the same different—breed. When the breed felt a threat, they circled wagons against outsiders.

“I’m Sam Dodge,” the man said with the kind of smile that
set Jack’s teeth on edge. A smile that expected to get what it wanted. “Polly and me go way back.
Way
back.”

“Yeah?” Gavin said.
"Way
back? Geez. That far, huh?”

All Gavin earned himself was another smile and a stare devoid of guile. “You’ve got it. That far. Could we talk, Jennifer? Polly’s said a lot of nice things about you.”

Mary moved beside Jack, and whispered, “Did Polly ever mention this clown to you?”

“I knew it!” Gavin said with gusto. “You love my idea about the circus, don’t you, Mary darling?”

“Shut up,” she told him with grim intensity. “I don’t recall Polly mentioning you, Mr. Dodge. She’s not here at the moment. Why don’t you leave a note for her?”

Sam Dodge homed in on Jennifer as if Mary didn’t exist. “You’re from Australia.”

“What was your first clue?” Art drawled. “This is a set, mate—a soundstage. You can’t just wander in here.”

Sam slipped off his gray silk jacket and slung it over a shoulder. He looked in several directions. “Doesn’t seem to be much going on. I figured that. No light on outside.”

“Did you enjoy Universal Studios?” Gavin asked with a faint, downtumed smile. “I expect you saw the Phantom flitting around while you were there. And they told you all about the little lights outside the stages. Amazing, isn’t it?”

Jack decided that if he were Gavin, he’d probably back off. Sam Dodge might be softer than he’d once been, but he didn’t lo
ok like a man who’d be fun in th
e dark if he arrived unexpectedly.

“Polly and I were supposed to get together for breakfast this morning,” Sam said. His glance in Gavin’s direction was flat, cold. “She told me something might come up. I should have remembered that, but I didn’t.”

“You’re Bobby’s father,” Jen said. Her arms were still crossed, and Jack noted how she flexed her fingers. “You took off with Bobby yesterday. When he was at the movies with Fabiola.”

Dodge shrugged and laughed lightly. “I guess Polly told you about that. I honestly thought I’d have him back before anyone missed him. You know—no, you probably don’t know how it is when you’ve got a kid you think the world of, and you don’t get to see him often enough.”

Jen stared at him blankly.

“Of course you don’t. But Polly and me are going to change that. We’re getting back together. Mainly for Bobby’s sake for starters.” The next laugh didn’t ring more true than the last. “But for us, too. We’ll just have to work things through.”

“D’you always spill your guts to people you don’t know?” Art asked, sounding too pleasant. “I don’t see our Polly liking that one bit. Private, she is.”

“Not about this. She’s as excited as I am. We talked all night. Poor kid’s probably tired out.”

The guy was inventing his story as he went along. And messing up as he went along, too. “You didn’t try her place before coming here?” Jack asked.

Dodge hesitated before saying, “We were going to meet here. But I did try to call her. No answer. So I thought she was here for sure.”

“She isn’t,” Mary said.

Jack reached for her hand and squeezed. There’d been an agreement among the cast and crew that no mention would be made about Polly’s absence from Kirkland. Only Jack and Mary knew she hadn’t left alone. Ferrito had been closed
-
mouthed about anything but the fact that he and Polly were going away for a few days—and that he didn’t intend to say where they’d be. If the media got hold of any gossip about the nation’s favorite star of a kids’ show, there would be the kind of publicity Jack didn’t want. Polly was squeaky clean. He intended to keep her that way.

Dodge continued to hold his ground, as if he could wear them down and make them tell him what he wanted to know. “When Polly shows we’ll tell her you came by,” Jack said. The ringing of a phone caused each of them to look around.

Sam Dodge swung his jacket forward and felt around until he produced a cell phone. He punched it on and said “Yeah,” and, “Hi, Bobby. How’s my boy?” He grinned from one member of the cast to another until he looked squarely into Jack’s eyes. “Hang on a minute, son. I’ll go out to my car where I can talk.”

Jack barely stopped himself from grabbing for the phone.

“Why?” Sam said, frowning as he started to turn away. “No, no, don’t hang up.”

With her free hand, Mary gripped Jack’s arm. He tightened his hold on her fingers.

“In the mountains? Sounds great. Don’t you worry, your mom and I have talked, but don’t tell her I’m coming. I’ll surprise her.” Dodge took Jack’s pen from the table.

So much for Ferrito’s secrecy.

“Doesn’t matter, Bob. I don’t remember numbers good either. Rose’s, right?” Dodge turned his back. He wrote on the flap of an envelope. “Something like that?
Belly
Rose’s house? You’re sure? Okay, okay. That’s fine. This is going to be great. Not a word. You pro
mise? Great. Bobby, where?…
Oh, yeah, I know the town. It’ll come to me. A railroad station. Old railroad cars. Yeah. Near a place called Bend? North Bend maybe? Bobby? Bobby?” He removed the phone from his ear and looked at it.

“He’s a liar,” Mary murmured. “He couldn’t have been with Polly all night.”

“No,” Jack said. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just looking to cash in on Polly’s money. He won’t get anything out of her. She’s too smart for him
.
”

“Look,” Dodge said when he’d put the cell phone back in his jacket pocket and tom off the envelope flap without asking. “I’ve taken up too much of your time. It’s been great to meet all of you. Polly’s talked a lot about you. When she shows up, tell her I was here, okay? Just in case I haven’t caught up with her by then.”

The guy actually thought none of them would figure out his game.

“Sure,” Art said. “We’ll tell Polly for you.” He looked not at Dodge, but at Jen, who gave him a rare smile.

Sam Dodge left at a much more rapid pace than he’d arrived. Jack didn’t wait for the door to close completely behind him before he said, “Okay, let’s get on with it.” He couldn’t risk a discussion of what had just happened.

“Jack,” Mary said. “That guy was lying through his—”

“None of our business,” he told her, but gave her a quick hug. Peace was what he had to have if he was going to keep things on track.

Gavin picked up a second brush and tapped a tattoo on the trestle table. “Off to the circus, I say.”

“What would that have to do with teaching kids about life?” Mary snapped.

“For some of us,” Gavin said, “life has been a circus, my darling. In more ways than one.”

“Bloody profound
,
” Art commented.

Gavin waved his brushes. “Clowning, tumbling, high wire, trapeze. Think of the symbolism.”

“You want to bring in a whole flaming circus?” Mary said.

There wouldn’t be any circus segment, but the discussion served to keep agile minds off the subject of Dodge, and Polly. “A circus might have interesting possibilities,” Jack said as if deep in thought.

“We wouldn’t have to bring in a circus,” Gavin said. “Our Aussie miracles can cover anything we need.”

“I like it,” Mary said, throwing herself to the potential winning side—as usual. “We learn the same values regardless of the type of life we lead. The circus performer’s act becomes a parallel.”

“Oh, yeah,” Art said. “Honor and decency always win out, right, Mary?”

Jack didn’t miss the glare Mary aimed at her most recent conquest.

“Trust, too,” Gavin said. “I like this. I knew I could get in the mood of it. Trust will be the biggie. Art and Jen can do a knife-throwing act.”

Art looked heavenward and shook his head.

“I mean it,” Gavin said. “What takes more trust than standing there and allowing someone to hurl knives at you?”