Serendipity (Southern Comfort) (10 page)

She had to admit the shower helped her transform herself into something remotely human.

When she stepped out and began toweling off, she noticed that Katie had taken her soiled clothes.  Always efficient, that was Katie.  Well, mostly efficient, Ava considered as she looked around. She’d neglected to bring Ava the spare sweat suit she kept in her office. But no matter.  Ava simply wrapped up in the towel and padded across the hall herself.

When she opened the drawer, she found a note instead of her sweat suit
:
Don’t Argue

  Perplexed, mostly naked, she wandered back into the hall.  She found her assistant in the process of closing the door to post-op behind her.  When Katie turned, smiled, Ava waved the paper.  “Would you like to tell me what this is about?”

“We’re going out for drinks.”

Ava noted how Katie was dressed, the short skirt, the makeup.  “It’s a nice thought, Katie, but I’m afraid it’s not the best time.”  Pushing the still dripping hair out of her eyes, she nodded meaningfully toward post-op.

“It’s the perfect time.”  Katie grabbed Ava by the elbow, and steered her across the hall.  “Wait right here.” 

When she reappeared, Ava blinked
in recognition
at the red dress.  “How did you get that?”

“Your landlord.”  Katie pushed her toward the bathroom.

“Lou Ellen?  Lou Ellen brought you this?  So what, she just… let herself into my apartment and rummaged through my things?”

“Pretty much.”

Why Ava was surprised, she didn’t know.  Lou Ellen would think no more of violating Ava’s privacy than she did of drinking whiskey with breakfast.  Other people’s mores had never been her concern.

“You’ve had a bad time of it lately and we decided that you need a distraction.  So we’re going to go drown your concerns in a nice bottle of wine.”

“Katie, I appreciate the thought, but you can’t expect me to leave when I have two patients to tend.”

Katie waved that away like a gnat.  “Lou Ellen’s sitting with them as we speak.” 

“What?”  Ava felt, literally felt, her heart skip a beat.  She dug her heels in and looked toward post-op in panic.  “Lou Ellen doesn’t know a thing about –”

Katie wouldn’t let her finish.  “I’ve given her instructions, and she has both of our cell phone numbers.  Give the lady some credit.”  She gave Ava another unceremonious shove into the bathroom and all but tossed the dress in after.  “Oh and Ava?  Put on some makeup.  We’re going to be meeting a couple of men.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Jordan complained as he nursed his beer. 

They’d arrived early, at Clay’s insistence, because he wanted to loosen his friend up.  Jordan was almost always good company, but after he’d had a few drinks he was downright entertaining.  Despite his size, he had the tol
erance of a ninety pound
co–ed. Needless to say, Clay considered it his duty to get his friend stinking drunk at least once a year.  It was always good for an evening of laughs, not to mention the fodder for the harassment mill.

Clay figured Jordan could use a few laughs right now, but the man didn’t seem inclined to cooperate.  “Would you like me to put a nipple on that thing?”  

“I’m driving.  And anyway, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.” Jordan narrowed his eyes at Clay.  “Pump a few beers in me, diminish my faculties, throw in a couple of desperate females and see what happens.  You’re a pot-stirrer, Clay.  A six foot wooden spoon.”

“It’s what I do,” Clay agreed.

“Well, I’m onto you, so stir things up elsewhere.  And just so you know, you’ve got an hour.”  He glanced at his watch, noted the time.  As a concession to good manners he’d left the ball cap in the car, but he hadn’t exactly put bells on.  “Eight o’clock rolls around, and we’re out of here.”

“What if I’m having fun, Dad?”

“Ha ha.  If you’re not ready by eight, you’ll just have to get one of the romance groupies to give you a ride. No pun intended.  I’m going to go home and take another look at those files.”

Clay examined the dregs of his beer and decided he was ready for another.  “Jordan, we’ve just spent a whole day with crime scene photos, autopsy reports and enough interview transcripts to sink a boat.  It’s gone a long way toward giving me some ideas about your killer’s personality, but son, it’s time for a break.  Just let it go for an hour or two.”

Jordan picked at the label on his bottle.  “If we don’t have the right man
,
I may still have to go to trial against the man we do have. What if I win?  How can I, in good conscience, live with that on my hands?  And worse, so much worse, is what if all this dicking around leaves the real killer free to do it again?  Some innocent woman could die.”  He frowned at his beer.  “I just can’t help feeling… responsible.”

“That kind of responsibility will kill you, friend.”  As Clay well knew.  The stress inherent in what he did caused many to burn out faster than a match head.  “Don’t forget you’re part of a team that’s part of a system.  Sometimes the system works, sometimes the system fails.  You can only work within its confines to the best of your abilities
, and do what you believe is right
.
  After that, it’s up to fate.
”    

“That’s almost identical to the advice I received from my father.”

“Your father’s a wise man.”  Sitting aside his empty glass, he signaled the bartender for another.  “Now listen to the advice of another wise man, and try to have yourself a little fun.  I meant what I said about all work and no play.  You don’t find a way to strike a balance, the next hospital you wind up in is likely to have padded walls.”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

Ava grimaced at the old plaster façade of Moon River Brewery. Gas flame lanterns spurted and danced, burning off the deepening shadows of dusk, while music and voices spilled through the open doors like bright candies from a box. The Savannah landmark might be known for its ghost, but there were plenty of live patrons tonight.  

She glanced down at the red dress.  They were about to go in there and meet up with a couple of strange men, and she looked like a walking come on.  “Shit.”

“Language,” Katie sing-songed as she nudged Ava down the sidewalk.  “And look at it this way – if nothing else, you’ve escaped from your spy detail for a couple of hours.  The goon wasn’t paying any attention to the fact that I made off with you in my car.  He’ll be sitting in the parking lot guarding your Mustang, and you’ll
be frolicking with attractive
men.”

“No offense, Katie.  But you only have your friend’s word that these men are attractive.  They could be trolls.  They probably are trolls.  Trolls with bad breath.”  The thought cheered her vaguely. “Trolls with bad breath who stalk women’s book clubs.” 

“Oh, hush.  This is Caitlin Cavanaugh we’re talking about.  She’s just released her third bestseller, so I’m pretty
sure she knows attractive when she sees it
.”

“Ah, yes.  The bodice rippers you like to read when you’re pretending to be studying the computer manual.”

Katie blinked, then quickly recovered.  “They’re not bodice rippers,” she said indignantly.  “They’re very well-written, critically acclaimed romance novels.”  She pulled up short as they reached the door.  “And I can all but guarantee that these men aren’t trolls.  I’ve seen photos of her husband, and if his brother looks anything like him, well, all I can say is
:
wow. 
We
should be safe.”

Safe, Ava thought grimly as she looked around, wasn’t exactly what she was feeling.  There was more of a crowd than she’d expected for a Monday, most of them baby-faced and sunburned on top of it.  Spring-breakers, Ava decided when one of them looked over, then elbowed his pal.  And here she was dressed like a little red sports car, just begging to be pulled over.

In defense, Ava turned away, studied the old black and white photographs that lined the brick walls.  But the shot of the fountain in Forsythe Park did little to improve her mood.

“Okay,” Katie drew her attention.  “We’re looking for a blond and a brunette…  Oh.  I see them up at the bar.  Holy… check them out.”  Katie sucked in a breath.  “To the left, ten o’clock
.
The blond is
definitely hot.  And
the one in the blue shirt is –”

“Jordan Wellington.” Ava’s own breath clogged in her throat as the men turned from the bar.  Warning bells echoed shrilly inside her head while her stomach did the gastric rumba.  “Christ in a sidecar, Katie, you’ve dragged me along on a date with Jordan Wellington.” 

“You know him?”  Katie blinked.

“New client.  Long story.”  Ava scrubbed her hand across her face and laughed.  Fate was a sneaky sonofabitch.  “Look, Katie, I have to get out of here before he sees me.”

“What?  Don’t be ridiculous.”  Katie grabbed Ava’s arm as she tried to pull away.  “And anyway, it’s too late.  Mr. tall, dark, and… oh, lethal smile, has apparently spotted you.  Whoa. Dimples.  And while I would like to point out that he was supposed to be my date, it’s obvious there’s something going on here
of which
I was unaware.” 

She spared Ava a reproachful look.  “Now buck up, sister.  They’re on their way over.”

JORDAN could hardly believe his eyes.  He’d been told to watch out for a tall redhead, but Caitlin’s details had been sketchy on the friend. 

He decided that the completed picture had turned out better than he could have
hop
ed.

“What?” Clay
followed Jordan’s gaze toward the door.  “Man.  Check out the pins on the redhead. And hey, isn’t that –”

“Ava Martinez,” Jordan concurred, and followed the statement with a wolfish grin.  “And now I understand why the
y use red to stop traffic
.” He
rubbed a hand over his heart.  “
Clay, I take back every irritable word I said.  Thanks to you, it looks like I’m going to get my date with the good doctor after all.”  

THE man was deadly.  After twenty minutes in his company, Ava felt like she’d plunged bodily into quicksand.  How was anyone supposed to be able to breathe when they were being drowned by all that charm?  Where was her foothold?  Couldn’t someone toss her a damn line?

“Would you like another glass of wine?”

Ava looked down at her glass in surprise.  She had no idea how it had come to be empty.  And the worst part of it was that she’d inadvertently consumed a
glass of her uncle’s label
. The
small
vineyard which produced it was one of the “legitimate” businesses that Carlos used to launder his money.  She’d been too flustered when she ordered the house white to bother to check.

She was not a woman accustomed to being flustered.

She returned Jordan’s gaze, got pinned by that piercing blue, and then realized he was waiting for an answer.  “
Actually, I think I’d like a mojito
.”

“Is the wine not to your liking?”

She thought of the money that she’d just put in her uncle’s pocket.  “Let’s just say it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”  Jordan signaled the waitress, ordered her drink.  When it came she took
a greedy gulp.  S
he figured if she just kept drinking this whole situation might not seem so absurd. 

Jordan smiled, and she funneled more alcohol.

Sweet Jesus, did he have to smell so good?

Off balance, Ava shot an imploring look at Katie, only to realize she’d get no help from that quarter.  For a woman who prided herself on manners, her employee was being awfully damn rude.  Sidled up against Jordan’s friend, with whom she flirted outrageously, she’d left Ava to flounder like a landed trout.

Not that she normally had trouble talking to men. But what the hell was she supposed to say to this one? 

We need to stop meeting like this?  You seem a lot more intelligent when you’re fully conscious?  By the way, you owe me a hundred bucks because the blood from your gaping head-wound ruined my favorite pants?

She directed the
pointed
toe of her
shoe
toward Katie’s shin.

“Ow.  Oh, hey.”  Katie gauged Ava’s desperate expression and finally deigned to toss out a conversational gambit.  “So, Jordan. Caitlin tells me you’re a
lawyer
.”

Ava’s shoulders relaxed, and she took another swig of her drink.   If she could just keep Katie talking, she might be able to get through the next forty-five minutes without accidentally incriminating herself.

“That’s right.  I’m an assistant district attorney.”

Rum
sprayed out of Ava’s mouth, covering the table in effervescent droplets.

“Are you okay?”  Jordan rubbed her back as Ava continued to choke.  Tears swam into her eyes when the rub turned into a pat.

“I’m fine.  Wrong pipe.” She waved a hand to ward him off.  Shit.  Holy shit.  Consorting with a prosecutor.