Part 12 (1/2)
”My theory? Someone saw me go in and stuck around long enough to see me come out. It only takes a hint of that type of impropriety to cause a problem.”
”I'm sorry.”
He threw himself back onto the bed, one arm flung above his head, the phone pressed to his ear, and his d.i.c.k standing at attention away from his belly. He touched himself and then immediately let go, glancing at his strewn clothes awaiting the hamper. ”Care for a real dinner?”
”Didn't you just say-”
”Yes, and I also say screw it. Unless you prove to be a cold-blooded killer-in which case I'm better off sticking to you like glue-then I'm on a short-term unofficial leave of absence slash vacation, and I say we have dinner. I'm not investigating Alva Mabry's murder anymore.”
Silence again. What was the matter now? His erection started to wilt.
”But I wanted...I need you on the case, no matter where it leads you.”
He sat up, his jets effectively cooled. ”Why?”
”Don't ask me that, Dan. You don't really want to know the answer.”
”I do want to know the answer. You can give it to me over dinner. I'd like to shower first. Let's say I pick you up in forty-five minutes?”
”Forty-five? Sure. And this time bring a condom.”
She hung up. His p.e.n.i.s was at full alert again.
Maris paced back and forth in her motel room. Dan's dismissal from the case was a totally unexpected turn of events. His eyes, his name, had been revealed to her for a reason. He needed to investigate even if he drew the wrong conclusions, because the ultimate answers wouldn't be uncovered without him. This much she had known somehow. Now, she had lost her way.
She paused in front of the mirror, studying her reflection. Her fas.h.i.+on sense had always been a product of whim, following her mood more than trend or a desire to please someone else. Yet tonight she had dressed for Dan Stauffer with a deliberate thought to seduction. A brand-new blouse purchased today, soft and loose, because tactile sensation could be a turn-on, the white fabric swirling with her movements like mist on the wind. On her lower half she'd pulled on a pair of tight jeans and boots laced up to her knee. Nothing flashy, but all designed to hint at what lay beneath.
She didn't expect to bed him and then convince him to pursue the case. He was out. Nothing she could do about it, as disturbing as those facts were. She only wanted closeness and hoped to persuade him to the same. Not a wham-bam-thank-you kind of encounter, but something warm and lingering. Despite her meeting with Felicia Woodward earlier in the day and the positive impressions, she felt remarkably alone.
Leaning forward, she stretched her lips back from her teeth, checking the thoroughness of her recent flossing. To be on the safe side, she returned to the bathroom to gargle with mouthwash and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss. In front of that mirror, she adjusted her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s in the new lacy bra beneath her blouse, then spent a long time gazing into her own eyes, seeking a deeper motivation to her actions. Finding nothing but a fundamental desire, she returned to the room and put on her coat, flipping the blunt ends of her short hair away from the collar. She ran a finger down the feather in her ear. Peace, yes. She would find that after, her body replete with endorphins. She hoped Dan would receive the same respite from the world. Even more than she, he needed serenity.
At a dull rap of knuckles on wood, Maris s.n.a.t.c.hed her purse from the chair, slid the security chain from its housing, and pulled open the door. ”Dan-”
Not Dan. A tall man in a dark, sleeveless s.h.i.+rt that exposed two arms covered in tattoos stood on the narrow sidewalk that ran the length of the building. Recovering from her surprise, Maris gave the man a curt nod. ”I think you have the wrong room. I'm expecting-oh, there he is.” Maris lifted her arm in greeting at the incoming car. It looked like Dan's vehicle, but even if the car belonged to a perfect stranger, Maris would act welcoming because the man standing before her made the hair stand up on her arms. The stranger turned his head to follow her gaze. With a monosyllabic reaction to her statement, he pivoted on his heel and strode away. The car whipped into the s.p.a.ce beside hers, door swinging open.
”Who was that?” Dan slammed his door and joined her on the sidewalk in two strides. ”What did he want?”
Maris shook her head. ”I don't know. I think he had the wrong room.”
”Wait here.”
Dan took off down the sidewalk. He returned a few minutes later pus.h.i.+ng his fingers through his sandy hair. ”Didn't see him. What did he say?”
”Nothing. He grunted and left when I waved at you.”
Dan slipped his hands into his jacket pockets as he frowned in both directions along the sidewalk and then over the parking lot. ”This place has never had the best reputation.”
”Okay,” Maris responded, wondering where he was headed.
”I've made a few drug busts here, arrested a couple of parolees who'd violated their conditions, one reported rape, and rooms have been broken into more than once.”
”If you're trying to unnerve me, you're almost there.” Maris clung more tightly to her purse, shooting a glance in the direction the tattooed man had gone.
”You might consider relocating to another motel for the time you're here.” He looked at her as if expecting an argument.
Maris went back into her room through the open door. Dan followed a moment later. He stood a few feet away as she pulled out her bag and began to repack it.
”What are you doing?”
Maris lifted a brow. ”Taking your advice. I didn't like the looks of that guy or the vibe he was giving off. I'll turn in my key and follow you to wherever we're going for dinner, then I'll find someplace else to stay.” Maris set her laptop on the bed beside her packed bag and took a turn around the room, including popping into the bathroom to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. When she came out, Dan had a grip on her suitcase and the strap from her laptop case hung over his shoulder.
”My friends at the Timeless recently put on an addition, opening it up to the general public for dining. Good move on their part because it's increased their business income considerably. We're going there to eat. You can ask them if they have any open rooms. If not, there's one of the big chains outside of town a few miles.”
Maris retrieved her purse again. ”I thought you told me I couldn't leave town.”
”That's not really leaving town. What I meant was that you couldn't go home.”
But I am home.
As she loaded her belongings into her trunk, she realized she both was and wasn't home, like standing on a line of physical demarcation, one foot in a certain county, one foot in another, and not belonging in either. Not anymore. Returning to Alcina Cove had altered her mindset, made her yearn for the place, as did her rather iffy relations.h.i.+p with Dan, but did she really belong? Felicia said she did, but nothing else here had.
Dan stood with one leg inside his car, fingers folded over the open door. ”Do you remember the way, or do you want to follow me?”
Maris leaned her chin on her hand on the roof of her vehicle, smiling at him across the open s.p.a.ce. ”You're cute when you're not all angry and bl.u.s.tery.”
He sighed. ”As usual, simple question, no answer.”
”I'll follow you.” Maris dropped down into her seat. Wherever you go.
Chapter 13.
The addition had been placed where Maris's former home had possessed a screened porch. What had been a backyard with a swing set and a garden shed for the mower had been landscaped to further resemble the English-style garden at the front of the Timeless Inn. Five-foot-tall windows on three sides of the room looked out over potted mums, leaves turning gold on the nearby bushes, and a garden marked by shadow beyond the series of small lampposts lighting the pathways. Maris disentangled a pale green tablecloth from around her knees. ”It's charming. Too bad there's no room left at the Timeless. Being here makes me wish I had more talent, though. What an amazing job they've made of it.”
She'd been introduced upon arrival to Pete and Constance-or Connie, as both Dan and her husband referred to her, although the woman had used her full name in introduction. Constance was heavily pregnant, gravid with life and glowing. When asked if they knew the s.e.x of the child, Pete had piped up with, ”Nope, but if it's a boy, we're going to call him Re-Pete.” Constance had rolled her eyes and punched him in the arm. Dan appeared relaxed and contented in their company, and perhaps a little envious. Maris watched him now across the table with a single candle burning behind gla.s.s between them and wondered what he wanted from life and why he hadn't gotten it.
”They left the force to start this place. It's nice.”
Nice. Seemed to Maris he avoided the enthusiasm he would have revealed if he had the inclination to open up. Played it close to his chest, her detective did. Her detective? Good G.o.d. She hadn't meant that. She grabbed her menu and studied it. ”Different atmosphere from last night's dinner. I know you said you like that place, but this is...I don't know. Special.”
”Yep.”
She glanced from the menu to his face. The expression in his eyes warmed her cheeks. She went back to reading. ”What do you suggest?”
”The filet mignon. The pasta primavera. The salmon. They're all good. Whatever you want. I asked you, so my treat.”