Rest in Pieces (17 page)

“I ordered pizza from Franco’s. When I gave them your address, they asked if I wanted your usual. So I got that plus a meatball pizza.” Daman shrugged one shoulder. “I hope that’s okay.”

I really thought Max was going to kiss him. “Yeah. We love Franco’s.”

I’m almost ashamed of the fact that we love it so much that Jimbo the delivery driver felt like family. He was over so much that Max had invited him to his last birthday party, and Jimbo had actually come.

“That sounds wonderful.” I looped my work tote on the back of a kitchen chair. “Thank you.”

Why was he here? Sure, it’s nice, but it just doesn’t make sense. We don’t run in the same circles, have the same friends—well except for Haley, or have much in common.

Max sat on the sofa beside Daman. Max’s eyes turned huge. “I just figured out who you are…you’re D–Rod.”

I walked the five feet from my kitchen to the sofa. How did my son know a drug lord? “How do you know Daman?”

“Mom, He’s D–Rod, the best striker in the history of soccer…well Mexican football. He was on the Mexican team when they almost won the World Cup in 2006.” Max looked at me like I was crazy for not recognizing D–Rod.

So Daman went from a pro–athlete to a criminal. That seemed to happen a lot in today’s society.

“Mom, are you sure you don’t want to go put on that red sweater?” Max jerked his head toward my room. Daman was a famous soccer player and had ordered pizza from Max’s favorite place on earth. My little boy would probably have me married to Daman before dinner arrived.

There was a pounding on my door.

Or not. Marriage would have to wait until dessert. “I’ll get it.”

I walked to the door and opened it. Jimbo’s smiling face, and more importantly, the large, square thermal holder with hot pizza inside was here.

“Mrs. R., looking good.” Jimbo smiled as he nodded.

I moved to the side and gestured for him to come in. “Put it on the table.”

“Okey, dokey.” Jimbo propped the thermal box holding the pizzas on the table, and slid them out. He nodded to Max. “How’s life M–man?”

“Good.” Max pointed to Daman and said in a stage whisper, “this is D–Rod.”

Jimbo looked to me for an explanation.

“Famous soccer player.” And drug lord. I mentally patted myself on the back for leaving out the last part. My self–control was becoming legendary, at least in my own mind.

“Thanks for setting up that interview in Radiology for me. I got the job. I start next week.”

Jimbo was going to schedule Radiology appointments, and all I’d had to do was wear a low–cut dress and lean over the Radiology reception counter and ask Dr. Haverman if he’d do me a favor. “It was the least I could do since you feed my family on a regular basis.”

“Ahhh, you’re my favorite customers.” He offered me a fist bump and I bumped back.

I grabbed my purse off the chair and unzipped it. At least I could take care of the tip. Daman had paid for the pizzas and saved us from the frozen fish sticks I’d planned for dinner. Yes, there are still frozen fish sticks. Don’t judge me, I had a coupon.

“The tip has already been taken care of.” Jimbo grabbed the thermal container and looked over at Daman. “Thank you Mr. D–Rod, you were very generous. I gotta run.”

He headed for the door. “Catch you later, M–man.” Jimbo waved to Max as he opened the door. He walked out and closed it behind him.

“Max, please set the table.” I shot him a look that said he better not bring up the fact that we usually eat pizza on the sofa and directly out of the box.

“Let me help.” Daman stood and stretched.

“We’ve got it. You bought dinner, the least we can do is set the table.” I still had no idea why he was here, but I was willing to wait around until he got to it only because he brought really good pizza. I grabbed plates from the cabinet next to the sink.

“I insist.” Daman was at my side. “I’ll get the glasses.”

He eyed the cabinet with the small padlock that held the murder board. “I’m guessing you don’t keep the glasses locked up.”

The strangest thought hit me. What if he was here to search for his lost diamonds? I’m sure a padlocked kitchen cabinet looked more than a little suspicious. As a drug lord, I was pretty sure that he had mad lock picking skills, but I really needed to stop jumping to conclusions. Then again, conclusion jumping was really the only exercise that I got. Maybe I should do it more so I could eat more cupcakes.

“No, that’s where I keep all of my stolen diamonds.” I clamped a hand over my mouth. Did I mention that I don’t have a filter from my brain to my mouth? While it’s gotten me in trouble in the past, I’m pretty sure that tonight it was going to get me killed. I choked out some forced and somewhat hysterical laughter, so possibly he would think I was kidding or crazy. At this point, either one was better than dead.

I was a terrible mother. I’d just gotten my son murdered just before he’d gotten to eat his favorite pizza.

Daman threw back his head and laughed. I looked around in case that was the signal for his squad of hit men to storm the place. No one repelled down from the roof, crashed through my windows or knocked down my front door.

I looked down to find that I was hugging the plates to my chest like a Kevlar vest. Carefully, I peeled the plates from under my left breast and laid them out on the table.

“You’re very funny.” Daman shot me those dimples again. “I like that.”

I didn’t know whether to fake laugh again or continue setting the table. I settled for a single shoulder shrug and setting out the napkins.

“If you think I’m here because of the diamonds—”

“Max why don’t you go put your backpack in your room and then wash up for dinner.” I shot him another mom look that said that he didn’t need to mention that we’d never washed up for anything.

Max rolled his eyes and headed to his room.

I waited until the door was closed.

“He doesn’t know about the stolen diamonds. I just learned about them a couple of days ago. We don’t know where your diamonds are. Trust me, if I had a million dollars worth of diamonds, would I live here?” I spun around to drive the point home. “The only diamond that David ever gave me was the itty–bitty one he slipped on my finger after he proposed.” Which I’d hocked ten minutes after he’d left so that I could buy my son a new pair of athletic shoes. I almost made enough to cover the shoes.

His dark chocolate eyes stayed on me. “I’m not here about the diamonds. That’s between me and the City of Lakeside.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does a million dollars in diamonds look like? I’d guess it’s a whole punch of diamonds…like pounds.” I thought about it for a second. “I guess diamonds aren’t weighed in pounds.”

He hunched his shoulders. “Nowhere close to pounds or even ounces. The bag that went missing from police evidence was a small black, velvet drawstring bag with one hundred and thirty–two diamonds. All different sizes.”

“That’s not nearly as impressive as pounds of diamonds. I’d rather think of a million dollars in diamonds as one giant diamond the size of a baseball.” Hmmm, would a baseball diamond—pun intended—weigh more or less than an actual baseball?

“You’re good at changing the subject.” His boyish smile was downright dangerous. “But, I’m still curious about what’s in the locked cabinet.”

Don’t say, “murder board,” don’t say, “murder board.” I crossed my arms and matched his smile. “Cleaning supplies.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.” He opened the cabinet next to the murder board, found the glasses, and grabbed three. “I could pick the lock and see.”

Totally nailed it on the lock picking skills.

“Cool, can you teach me how to pick a lock?” It seemed like a good thing to know how to do.

He stared at me for a full beat and then shook his head. “You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Around here that’s saying something.” I was perfectly normal no matter what the Rorschach test said.

“Tell me about it.” He set the glasses down on the table—one by each plate.

At the risk of offending a drug lord, I asked, “so why are you really here? Not that I’m not grateful for dinner, but it’s a little unexpected.”

Do I have a talent for understatement or what?

“You’re all business, I like that.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked around. “I’ll be honest with you, I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time.”

My bullshit meter clanged in my head. “Why?”

He held his index finger to his lips in the universal ‘be quiet’ gesture. He slid his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a small rectangular black device about the size of a fat cell phone. It had a grid of red lights on the front. He switched it on and moved it over my kitchen table and then moved onto the kitchen cabinets.

“What the hell?” Lately my life had taken a turn for the weird. Sure, it had been weird before, but Daman was taking it to a new level.

He stepped into my personal space, leaned down, and whispered next to my ear, “your house has a bug problem. You’re under surveillance.”

Chapter 13

I stood there while the verbal grenade he’d just tossed out in front of me exploded. Someone had bugged my house? I looked around like the listening devices would jump out and run around.

“What?” Okay, I understood his words, but it didn’t make sense to me.

He leaned in even closer and his lips brushed my earlobe. “Just act normal and let me sweep the place.”

I almost pointed to the broom, but I didn’t. Queen of self–restraint, right here.

“Why would I be under surveillance?” I whispered. I know I should have been scared, but honestly, the first thing that popped into my mind was that surveilling me must be so disappointing. Some people really had too much free time.

“Molly Miars.” His lips tickled my earlobe again.

Adrenaline slammed through my system. This was about Molly? Holy crap, what had she been into? For that matter, what had she gotten me into?

Max wasn’t safe here; I wasn’t safe. We needed to move. I glanced in the direction of my bedroom. Our suitcases were under my bed. I needed to pack. We would go…where?

He gripped my shoulder and pulled me into him. “You look like you’re about to lose it. Stay with me. Focus on the sound of my voice. I’m going to take care of this problem for you.”

“Why?” I didn’t know him that well and he was possibly a drug lord.

“Looking into Molly Miars’ death has put you on the radar of some very dangerous people.” His breath tickled the side of my cheek and sent little tingles up and down my spine.

“Why are you helping me?” I needed to get out of here. The only problem was, I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I had like thirty–five dollars to my name. Payday wasn’t until next week. If I was on the run, would I still need to pay my electric bill?

“Calm down.” Daman hugged me against his chest. “You’re shaking.”

Gently, he rocked me back and forth.

Man, he smelled good. Usually I didn’t like men who wore cologne, mostly because they tended to think that more is better, but Daman wore something that mixed perfectly with his body chemistry and produced a deliciously sinful smell. Once in college I followed a guy across campus because he smelled so good. Unfortunately I lost him in the Quad—my life could have been way different if I’d been willing to run after him, but I was wearing heels. C’est la vie.

There was something I was worried about before my ovaries sidetracked me…oh yeah, my house was bugged.

“Molly died of a drug overdose…ask anyone.” Except me or Monica or Haley. “There’s nothing to look into.”

It’s not that I didn’t trust Daman, it’s just that, well…I didn’t trust him. Up until five minutes ago, I was sure that he was here to kill me, and now he was holding me and patting my back like I was a frightened child.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Max leaned against the sofa back and crossed his arms. He might want me to put on my red sweater to impress D–Rod, but the reality of seeing me in his arms was a different story.

Daman dropped his arms and I stepped back.

“Nothing. Daman just um…” I let my voice fade to keep from telling him that our house might be bugged.

“Max, how about some pizza?” Daman moved in for the save. “After dinner, I’ll tell you all about the World Cup.”

Max shrugged and headed to the table. Apparently, pizza and soccer were way more important than why he’d found dear old mom in the arms of a man he didn’t know. Chalk one up for stranger danger.

Dinner was largely a quiet affair, as I wasn’t sure exactly what to say now that I knew my house was bugged. Every time Max opened his mouth to talk, I offered him another piece of pizza. After the pizza was nothing more than a pile of half chewed crust, I closed the boxes, stood, tucked them under my arm and headed to the door. “I’ll be right back. I need to throw these away in the big can outside.”

Daman took the boxes from me. “I’ll help.”

Max rolled his eyes.

I couldn’t get outside fast enough. As soon as Daman closed the door, I leaned into him. “Are there any bugs out here?”

He shook his head and whispered, “only the insect variety. Too much wind noise, but cameras could be a problem.”

I looked around for something like a traffic cam. How hard could those be to find?

“Stop looking around. Just lean in close and laugh like I said something funny.” He tossed the pizza boxes in the trash and then hugged me into him.

“Why?” I leaned into him and tried to laugh. It came out as more of a cackle, but he said there weren’t any mics out here so it didn’t matter.

“Because if they do have cameras trained on us right now, it will look like we’re just on a date. Two people enjoying each other’s company out star gazing.” He pointed to the sky.

“You don’t go on very many dates, do you?” I pretended to stare up at his hand.

“Why do you say that?” The dimples were back.

“People haven’t star gazed on a date since electricity was invented. Now we meet at chic bistros and order flights of wine and weird cheeses from a menu written on a large sandwich board that the server wears strapped to his back.” I watched as he traced the big dipper. That was kind of neat.