Runaway Mistress (16 page)

“Just what Buzz said. Sylvia was having a fistfight with some guy named Roger and I think she slipped. I saw her fist miss Roger’s head by a mile and that’s the last thing I saw.”

“Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I seem to have a penchant for it, she thought. “No kidding.”

“That’s why Buzz looks out for Hedda. Sylvia’s a little unstable.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“You must think this is the craziest place you’ve ever been.”

“Hah. I might if I were a normal person, but if you knew how I grew up…Well, forget it. It was like a flash from the past.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sorry I lived that. But hey—I’m fine now, right? Except my reaction time sucks.”

“Yeah. You need to practice ducking.”

“Gotcha.”

About halfway home, he reached for her hand. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked up at him, shocked. “I’m a sucker for a beat-up woman,” he said, and, pulling her along, held her hand the rest of the way home.

Jennifer couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her hand. High school? Oh, she’d had plenty of men, some lusty men, but walking her home and holding her hand? Long ago and far away. There had been that one time, that one boy in high school to whom she’d given her heart, and when he broke it she swore off love. From that point on she’d been in charge of the relationships she had. She might have been physically and mentally in tune to the men in her life, but she was emotionally unavailable, and she knew it. It had been quite deliberate.

As she held his hand, she remembered what it was like to feel innocence and love. To have the feeling come to you and be completely vulnerable to it. At least she hoped she was just remembering it and not actually feeling it.

Once home, Alex went inside with her. He directed her to the couch, where he propped a couple of pillows at one end, instructing her to keep her head elevated. He fixed up a new ice pack and brought her two aspirin. Alice immediately came to her, laying her head on Jennifer’s belly to offer both comfort and support.

Alex sat on the coffee table, elbows on knees, and looked into her eyes. “You must be really afraid of something to refuse to let the paramedics even check you over.”

She stared back at him. He was so earnest. So kind. “I’ll be fine. Buzz shouldn’t have called them.”

“He should have called the police.”

He had a very small scar that cut through one eyebrow. He had a cleft in his chin, just a little one, tucked there under the bristles. He probably knew how handsome he was. He probably broke hearts all over the place. She was very grateful to be immune. “He did.”

“I mean the Boulder police. Those two would have gone straight to jail. There isn’t any need for one or the other to press charges. If there’s battery, there’s an arrest. Or two. Might do her good to spend the night in jail. But Buzz is afraid Children’s Services would haul off Hedda and her little brother…. Still…”

Jennifer felt tears threaten. “It’s all right,” she said, but she said it in such a soft whisper that he could barely hear her.

“So.” He touched her cheek on the side that wasn’t injured. “You know I’m a police officer.”

Her lips moved over the name “Rose.”

“Ah. Sure. The girls are very proud of that, that they have their very own cop taking out their trash and trimming up their yards. But Louise didn’t tell you before you moved in?”

She shook her head. “Frankly, it took me by surprise. I wonder why she didn’t tell me.”

“Well, I’ve asked them not to brag about it—I don’t like to bring my work home.” He shrugged. “She might’ve thought you’d bolt if you knew.”

“Should I? Bolt?”

“There’s absolutely no reason to.”

He smiled at her. Oh, damn, there was a dimple. She had managed to forget about that for a while. She tried to sniff back a tear, but it escaped and she made a sound that was half hiccup and half sob. He’d think she was crying about being afraid of the police or something, but she was crying because he held her hand and had a dimple. And immunity was slipping out of her reach. Her control, her greatest asset, was going bye-bye.

“Is there any way I can help you, Doris?”

She just shook her head and tried to get a grip.

“Are you on the run?”

She took a deep breath and willed her voice not to tremble. “Just from an abusive ex-boyfriend who said he’d kill me, and I believed him.” She shrugged. “I just want a little time to get my life together.”

“What’s his name?”

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes, causing a large well of tears to overflow and run down her cheeks, then shook her head. No way.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She shook her head again. Why should she? One ride on a guy’s handlebars didn’t make them soul mates. She opened her eyes and said, “Hey. I trusted
him.
”

“I want to ask you a question. Just one. Please don’t lie to me. Have you broken any laws?”

She sat up straighter, dropped the cold pack into her lap and said, “I swear to God, Alex! I’ve never in my life broken any laws!” He stared at her hard. “I swear to
God!
”

“Okay,” he finally said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about anything, then.” He stood up. “That aspirin will kick in, but keep the cold pack on, okay? I’ll take Alice for a little walk around the park. Get some rest. Relax.”

He lifted the leash off the peg by the door, which brought Alice immediately to him. “Fair-weather dog,” Jennifer accused.

“We’ll be right back.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“And when you’re ready, you tell me how I can help you.”

She didn’t say anything and he left. But she thought, wouldn’t that be nice? To ask someone for help and have it delivered, free of obligation. Just like good friends. Friends who trust each other. Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that be rare?

She slept, and when she woke, Alice was back, lying faithfully beside her. A throw was placed over her and on the coffee table beside her was a sandwich covered with plastic wrap along with a glass of water.

Alex believed her. Not just because he wanted to, but because his gut instinct had kicked in. He had looked a lot of criminals in the eyes while he asked them questions and they very seldom fooled him. They very seldom told the truth, too. They’d lie about their name, where they got the car, who they were with, where they were going, whether they had any warrants. Most of the time, just an honest answer would cut them a break.

Her eyes were honest and earnest. She was hiding from someone, very likely the abusive ex like she said, and she hadn’t broken any laws. It certainly was not against the law for an adult to be missing.

He hadn’t particularly liked the looks of the man who’d handed him the flyers outside the barber shop, however.

He went to work a little early that afternoon and began a search of both Jennifer Chaise and Doris Bailey. He had a couple of hours before his shift and a real need to know.

There were lots of winners, lots of outstanding warrants, but luckily for Jennifer she didn’t fit any of the descriptions. There was one match—Jennifer Chaise of Fort Lauderdale, missing. No wants or warrants. If Jennifer was hiding now, it appeared to be for the first time. She had a Florida residence, two previous residences, Florida driver’s license, social, no priors, and a good job with a commercial real estate firm. Clean as a whistle. So far. The next thing he’d do is check out her place of employment and see if she could afford her address and car on her income.

Then he did a search on the man who had reported her missing. Nick Noble. He ran an out-of-state check—bingo! The guy had an arrest record about ten miles long—fraud, conspiracy, trafficking. And
no
convictions. He was not currently wanted or indicted, and could go to the police fearlessly.

“Whatcha doing?”

He looked over his shoulder at his partner, Paula. He lifted the flyers with Jennifer’s picture on it. “Someone was handing out these flyers all over Boulder City, so I was checking her out. Actually, she checks out just fine, but the guy who reported her missing doesn’t check that well. He’s had quite a few brushes with the law.”

She studied it. “Have you seen her?”

He hated that, when she could nail it like that. She was just about as good at detecting a lie as he was, so he tried to avoid telling one. “I was curious about why someone would be looking for her in Boulder City. She’s from Florida and disappeared from the MGM Grand, according to the report.”

“Maybe whoever put out the flyers left them in a lot of small towns around Las Vegas.”

“Maybe,” he said.

“What’s your interest in her, Alex? Really?”

“I think maybe she’s missing on purpose. And I think it’s possible the guy has accused her of stealing to get the police to help him find her. And I think he might know where she’s been hiding out. Now what I’d like to know is why he wants her so bad.”

“Well. She’s very beautiful,” Paula said, looking at the flyer.

“There’s that.” Hmm, he thought, she still is beautiful and doesn’t look very much like that anymore. But there was no denying she was sexy, alluring and unconventional.

Paula picked up the report filed when Noble notified the police of the theft. “We have bigger fish to fry than this,” she said. “She was his squeeze. She took a few souvenirs with her when she left him. He’s been in lots of trouble with the Florida police—he’s probably a sleazeball.”

“Right,” Alex said, gathering up the papers he’d printed out and putting them in a file, which went right into his desk drawer. “But if she took souvenirs, it’s the first time on her record. I’m just saying.”

“Uh-huh. And we have a string of home invasions in Northeast. Are we going to work?”

“Yeah, yeah. We have a target team to sit surveillance with us. Let’s go.”

Paula began to whistle. The tune was
Alex has a girlfriend, Alex has a girlfriend.

“Drop it,” he said, his voice threatening.

She continued to whistle until it became difficult to whistle and smile at the same time.

Dear Louise,

Every day here gets more interesting than the one before. Did you know that Buzz delivers meals to people he knows are hungry? I haven’t been able to figure out if he has a set schedule, but yesterday I took lunch to a little old lady just a couple of blocks from here, and she lives in abject poverty. Someone should be taking care of her. Someone should do something about that house. And another thing that happened—I got right in the middle of a knockdown fight between Sylvia and some guy she picked up and I was decked. Poor Hedda!

Oh, and here’s one for you. I just found out that Alex is a cop. You might’ve warned me.

Love,

Doris

Dear Doris,

Buzz has been doing that for years. He’s very careful. He does exactly the right amount because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s pride. He knows that even those destitute little old people are fiercely independent and don’t want to give up their homes, however humble, to be caged up in some kind of government-run facility. Yet, there comes a time when it’s necessary.

That Sylvia. Poor Hedda indeed. Watch out for her.

As for Alex—I had hoped you’d begin to like him before you found out. I don’t think you have anything to fear from him.

Love,

Louise

Jennifer was rested and ready to go back to work just twenty-four hours later. She had only a slight discoloration along her jawline and, remarkably, no headache at all. The only thing that threatened to give her one was the way Buzz kept apologizing, as if it was his fault. Apparently he’d felt such guilt about the incident, he’d talked about it the whole day while she was home napping off the assault, but in deference to Hedda, he played it up as an accident. He said Sylvia came in for a cup of coffee, slipped and her flying arm accidentally made contact with Doris’s jaw, but Jennifer’s regulars had a comment or two.

“Heard you got decked,” said Marty, the used-book-store owner.

“I knew I shouldn’t have stayed home,” she answered. “It’s nothing.”

“You get one off or just go down?” asked Terry from the dog-grooming shop.

“Hey, it was just an accident,” Jennifer insisted.

“I bet Sylvia was wasted,” Terry said.

Jennifer slid into Terry’s booth. “Do you know Sylvia?”

“I’ve seen her a time or two, that’s all. But Hedda’s boyfriend works for me. Max. He isn’t too crazy about his girlfriend’s mom.”

Hedda could have complained to Max, but somehow Jennifer doubted it. Max probably knew more than he let on to Hedda. He probably complained to Terry.

A little while later Ryan rode his mountain bike up to the diner. Judging by the pudgy looks of him, the policeman had been spending a little too much time in there. He was a sweet guy, and maybe not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he seemed to do a decent job of helping to keep peace in a peaceable town. She recalled how nervous his police uniform had made her at first, but she got used to seeing the town’s officers at the diner, especially Ryan, who was there at least once, sometimes several, times a day. None of the local cops looked at her as if anything was out of the ordinary.

“Hey, Doris,” he weighed in. “I heard you took a punch.” He stared at her face, looking for damage, but it was very slight. He squinted. “Doesn’t look too bad.”

“It was an accident, Ryan. Nothing to get excited about. You want coffee? Eggs? The usual?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Thanks, Doris,” he said, and found a table of guys he knew. He was just that easy to turn off the path. Jennifer hoped he never had to look for any real criminals.

After work she went to the computer before even taking Alice for her afternoon walk. She wrote a long e-mail to Louise, giving her an update. She told how everyone in the diner seemed to know what had happened and asked if she was all right. She confessed that Alex had taken good care of her. It was the first time in her memory that so many people seemed to be involved in her life—and at a time she was wishing to be invisible.