Written In Blood (12 page)

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Authors: Shelia Lowe

BOOK: Written In Blood
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Diana swung around on all of them, her eyes wild with fury.
Cruz grabbed her arms before she could attack again and held her. “Come on, Miz Sorensen, you don’t wanna do this.”
Paige came to the doorway, a wad of facial tissues pressed to her palm. Her voice was pitched near hysteria as she addressed the woman who was legally her stepdaughter. “Get out of here
now
, Diana, or I’m calling the police.”
Diana ripped out of Cruz’s grasp. “Yes, why don’t you call them?” She rubbed her neck, which bore the mark of Annabelle’s hand, and sneered at Paige over Cruz’s shoulder. “Even
you
aren’t
that
stupid.”
Paige spun on her heel and stalked back into her office, slamming the door behind her.
“You won’t get away with this!” Diana shrieked after her. “I’ll make sure you don’t!” She brushed at her skirt with sharp, angry strokes, straightened her jacket, trying to restore a shred of dignity.
Elbowing her way through the posse of gaping students lining the staircase, Diana made it to the ground floor in record time. She ignored the raunchy catcalls that chased her and rushed out through the front doors.
Claudia bent to retrieve the composition book Annabelle had dropped in her sprint across the landing and handed it to her. “Thanks, kiddo. That took a lot of guts.”
“He should have let me jack her up,” Annabelle said, adopting an indifferent posture. But her breath came in quick pants on the residue of a waning adrenaline rush. She rubbed her arms where bits of shredded skin peeled away from the crisscrossing of scratches left from Diana’s talonlike fingernails.
It must hurt like hell, Claudia thought. Then Cruz offered to take Annabelle to the school nurse and Claudia caught the secret smile that briefly touched her lips. Attacking Diana had certainly gotten Cruz Montenegro’s attention.
 
Paige was lying on the sofa in her office, getting ready to down a couple of Vicodin that Cruz brought in. Nobody asked where he’d got them.
“Diana was here because the judgment came in.” Paige swallowed the tablets and set down her glass of water, then wearily exchanged the bloody gauze on her palm for a new wad. “Guess who won the case?”
“So the school is now officially yours,” Claudia said. With careful fingers she picked up a small shard of glass the maid had overlooked in cleaning up the mess and dropped it into the wastebasket. “Congratulations. I think.”
“There’s something wrong with her—Diana. Can’t you see they’re both crazy, the twins?”
“I definitely wouldn’t want to meet them in a dark alley.”
Paige stared back at her with big eyes. “I’m going to have Bert get me a gun.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
“You saw what she’s capable of. I told you, I’m afraid of them. And now that I’ve
won
, God knows what they’ll do to get back at me. Diana was right. I can’t call the cops. The wrong kind of publicity would be death to the school.”
Claudia regarded her with concern. “Losing is a big blow for them. They need some time to deal with it. A gun isn’t the answer.”
Paige’s shoulders slumped and she looked at her injured hand. “What am I going to do about Annabelle? She was out of line, attacking Diana like that, even if the crazy bitch deserved it.”
Claudia said, “She was just defending me.”
“You don’t know Annabelle. She’ll use any excuse to get into a fight.”
“Ahh, I thought it was because she liked me.” Then Claudia told Paige how pleased Annabelle had looked when Cruz offered to take her to the nurse.
Paige looked back at her through eyes that were already starting to droop from the medication. “I hope he’s not going to be trouble.”
Chapter 11
Paige called around eight, sounding punchy. “Hey, Claudia, my friend.”
Claudia covered the bowl of vegetable soup she was eating and took the phone into the living room. “How’s your hand?”
“Hellacious when the drugs wear off. Lucky there’s more where those came from, huh?” She giggled and said something to somebody in the room. Back to Claudia. “Hey, Claudia, I got a big favor. Need your help.”
Claudia’s bullshit antenna went up and started quivering. “What’s going on, Paige?”
“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m kinda out of it.”
“Yeah, I could tell.”
“So . . . I’m not really up to staying on top of Annabelle this weekend. She needs someone watching her and . . .”
“And what?”
“I was thinking, she really seems to have taken a shine to you . . .”
Claudia laughed. “Last week she said my lecture was crap.”
“But she changed her mind.” Paige’s voice turned wheedling. “She started doing your handwriting program.”
“Paige, you can’t be serious. I’m not a
babysitting
service.”
“But I’m gonna be spending the weekend in bed. There won’t be anyone to watch her. She’ll just get herself into more trouble.”
“So you’d send her off with a stranger?”
“You’re not a stranger,” Paige pressed. “You’re a
friend
. And anyone can see she likes you. We both like you, and look what she did for you today, with Diana.”
Oh, great, lay on the guilt.
“This morning you were angry with her for attacking Diana. Make up your mind, Paige. You can’t have it both ways.”
“I just thought, since you’d taken an interest in her . . .” Paige turned away from the phone again, covered the receiver, said something muffled. Claudia heard laughter, a deep male voice.
“Where are you, Paige?”
“Over at the cottage.” More giggles. “My buddy Cruz is nursing me back to health.”
“So who’s minding the store?”
Paige seemed to think that was hilarious. When she sobered up, she said, “I thought maybe . . .you could take her for the weekend.”
“The
weekend
?”
“Oh, come on, Claudia, it would be so good for her, and I’ll pay you. Your regular rate, what you get for court.”
“You’re willing to spend a couple thousand dollars to get rid of her for the weekend?”
“Don’t put it like that!” Paige sounded stung. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what it sounds like.”
Paige ignored the jibe. “Getting away from school for a couple of days would help Annabelle so much.”
“I got the picture—you want to play with Cruz and you need to hand off this responsibility.”
Truth was, Claudia’s brother had made plans for a weekend fishing trip, and his daughter, who was the same age as Annabelle, would be staying at Claudia’s house.
Paige pushed some more. “If you have any problems, just call me on my mobile phone. I’ll send someone to pick her up right away.”
“Don’t you have someone there to supervise the kids who board?”
“Well, yes, but this is Annabelle—she’s kind of high maintenance. I wouldn’t leave her with just anyone.”
“Oh, thanks, that’s great,” Claudia said, not sure whether to be flattered by Paige’s vote of confidence. “Anyway, my niece is going to be here. She’s still kind of innocent and my brother is very protective. If Monica got into any kind of trouble, he would never forgive me.” Claudia heard herself weakening and Paige moved in for the kill.
“The poor kid hasn’t made any friends here at all. She and your niece might hit it off.”
“What about her father?”
“He leaves this stuff up to me.”
They batted it back and forth a few more times, but Claudia knew she had already lost.
The way Annabelle had rushed to her defense, there was no disputing it: Whatever problems the girl might have, she had guts—hard-won guts, grown out of the too-early loss of her mother and the disappointment of a cold father who had emotionally abandoned her; a conspicuous lack of friends; a headmistress foisting her off on a relative stranger. Claudia reckoned that a weekend wouldn’t be such a big sacrifice.
After she hung up she mused for a while on the various faces of Paige Sorensen that she’d seen. Over the weeks since they’d met she had observed the wounded widow, the wronged stepmother, the lonely woman seeking a confidant. Then at Claudia’s handwriting-analysis presentation the charming schoolmistress, and with this request, what seemed to be an unconcerned caretaker who would put her own needs before those of her charge.
Claudia tucked away a mental note to analyze Paige’s handwriting.
Chapter 12
Pale morning light seeped through the blinds, probing the shadows in Claudia’s bedroom. Saturday. The sound of water running in the shower.
She squinted at the clock: 8:20. She’d slept late, but Annabelle wasn’t due until ten, Monica at ten thirty. Plenty of time for a leisurely breakfast.
Jovanic emerged from the bathroom, a towel draped around his lean, muscular body. Being a cop meant he had to stay fit, and he worked at it with regular sessions at the gym. A little shiver of happiness ran through her.
He dropped the towel and crawled back into bed. He slid an arm around her and nuzzled her neck as she scooted against his body, which was cool from the shower. She felt him harden against her.
His hand stole up over her abdomen and cupped her breast. Claudia sighed with contentment and rolled onto her back in response. His hands, then his tongue explored the familiar peaks and valleys of her body, making her gasp. She let her mind go blank and gave herself up to the sheer pleasure of being back in his arms.
Getting onto her knees, she urged him onto his back, stroking him, teasing him with her tongue, loving the way she could make him groan. It was these times when she was tempted to give in and make the commitment he had been pressing her for.
Lost in the moment, Claudia suddenly realized that someone was ringing the doorbell.
“Aw, shit!” Jovanic grumbled, rolling away from her and off the bed. “Who the hell is that?” Grabbing the towel from the floor and wrapping it around his waist, he slid open the deck door and stepped out onto the balcony, leaned over to look. “There’s a kid on the porch.”
Claudia scrambled out of bed and into a pair of leggings she’d left draped over a chair the night before. “She’s early.”
The doorbell rang again, more insistently.
Jovanic closed the balcony door with an irritated snap. “There’s a guy with her.”
“Probably Bert Falkenberg.” With an apologetic shrug, Claudia pulled on a long T-shirt and hurried downstairs, hoping the scent of sex didn’t cling too conspicuously.
 
Falkenberg was dressed in Levi’s and a Western shirt, his wiry hair slicked back.
“I know we’re early,” he said, resting his hand on Annabelle’s shoulder. “But she couldn’t wait to get here. I hope you don’t mind. She ate breakfast before we left.”
Annabelle wore hip-hugger jeans and a belly shirt that showed a lot of skin, including a ring-pierced navel. Her black hair was brushed to a high gloss and hung like a half-drawn curtain on either side of her face. Muttering a barely audible greeting, she slouched inside.
The big kid-sitting experiment.
Claudia showed them into the living room. Falkenberg’s eyes darted around the room the way they had on the day he had brought Paige to see her.
“Can I get you some coffee, Bert?”
He turned slowly, realizing belatedly that she had asked him a question. “Thanks, but I have to get going.”
“Where are you off to?” Claudia didn’t care about his social life, but she was curious about Paige’s. It irked her that she didn’t know for sure whether Paige’s weekend plans included Cruz or Bert, or someone else altogether.
“Palm Springs.” He cupped his hand to his mouth as if about to share a dirty secret. “I play a little poker at Agua Caliente when I get a chance.”
“Win much?”
He gave a self-deprecating shrug, but Claudia didn’t miss the pride behind it. “Let’s just say I win more than I lose,” he said. “I prefer Vegas, but I don’t have time this weekend.”
“Going alone?” Claudia persisted, hoping for more details.
He shook his head. “I’ve got a lady friend who likes to go along.”
“Oh. How’s Paige doing?”
He looked away, focusing his gaze on the framed Lena Rivkin doodle art on the bookcase. “I haven’t seen her today, but I’m sure she’ll be just fine. Diana’s lucky she doesn’t want to press charges for assault.”
“Do you think the Sorensens are as dangerous as Paige believes?”
He gave her a knowing smile but did not answer and that made her wonder why.
To fill the awkward silence, Claudia got the remote control from the coffee table and handed it to her young guest.
“Annabelle, you can watch TV while I shower and get dressed. My niece will be here in a little while and we’ll go do something fun.”
Annabelle blew a big purple bubble, popped it. She plopped onto the sofa and Falkenberg dropped her backpack on the floor beside her. “Here’s your stuff, Anna,” he said.
The girl glanced up from clicking through the channels with an elaborately bored sigh. “Whatever.”
He reached out to chuck her under the chin, but she jerked her head away. “Behave yourself for Ms. Rose, okay, young lady?”
Claudia saw him to the door, wondering with a little ripple of unease if she had gotten herself in too deep. Kids were not her specialty. “Good luck in Palm Springs,” she said.
Upstairs, Jovanic was dressed in shorts, one foot up on a chair, lacing up his running shoe. Claudia came up from behind and wrapped her arms around him, leaned her cheek against his bare back. “I’m sorry, Joel. We’re always getting interrupted at the worst moments.”
He grunted and straightened, threw a T-shirt over his shoulder, and swatted her on the ass as they headed downstairs. “You mean the
best
moments, don’t you?”
 
Annabelle’s demeanor improved with Falkenberg’s departure, and Claudia began to harbor a small hope that the weekend would be a success, that she could balance her attention between the two girls and Jovanic. But when she introduced Annabelle to Jovanic, he was clearly annoyed by the terse response she gave him, and that small hope took a nosedive.

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