Part 19 (1/2)
Nick picked up his cell phone. ”Brad,” he said, ”I got a lead on an Armani trench coat in Dominique DeLong's house, stored with her vintage clothes. Want to pick it up there and get some forensics done on it?”
Nick listened for a minute, his face pensive. ”Anonymous tip. Sorry.” He listened again. ”Okay, good.”
Nick clapped his phone shut. ”A friend on the NYPD is sending a man for it right now.”
I called Kyle to let him know the police were coming for the trench coat.
”Good, we can tell Werner that I saw the man's coat at Dom's, and by the size of it, I knew it didn't belong to her publicized lover, Gregor Zukovski.”
Nick filled himself a plate and came to sit beside me on the fainting couch.
”You should have asked Brad if they had any leads or prime suspects, or even if they've made an arrest.”
”Their prime suspects are obvious and weak: the chef, the understudy, and the ex-husband.”
”I suspected them, too,” I admitted. ”But Werner agrees with you. They're weak. That's why I like having him to bounce ideas off of.”
Nick wiped a bit of sauce off my chin and licked it off his finger.
Oy, I needed to get away from this man.
”Don't eat so fast,” Nick said. ”You'll get indigestion.”
I'd always been a nervous eater.
”Try this.” He fed me a forkful of lemon chicken.
It was like Chinese foreplay.
”So,” he said, ”Dominique suspected the diamonds would be stolen because she'd been approached by Deep Throat to steal them, which is probably why you saw her using decoy gems in another vision. Is that right?”
”Right. And you're going to call the New York police and the FBI to see what they know before we get together with Werner, tonight, right?”
”I hate it when you're all business, ladybug.”
I stood. ”You'd better be civil tonight, though Werner told me that you apologized.”
”You just got home last night. How did you know?”
”You're giving me the third degree, again.”
Nick put down his plate. ”I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not the jealous type.”
”It's like the frickin' pheromone wars,” I said not quite beneath my breath. ”And I'm caught in the crossfire.”
”What?” Nick looked up, his hand combed halfway through his hair, his mind miles away.
”Nothing.” I had just figured out that Werner had a dangerous set of those s.e.xy little pheromone suckers himself.
Thirty-eight.
I can't afford a whole new set of enemies.
-CECIL BEATON ”When Werner picked me up at the train station last night, he told me that you apologized,” I said. ”I'm glad. No need to pout.”
”I am not pouting.”
I laughed. ”You're hard to frazzle,” I paraphrased from the Grinch, ”but I did my best, and that's your problem.”
Nick's eyes twinkled. ”It's because I'm green, isn't it?”
And with that perfectly executed Grinch quote, the angst between us eased.
”I'm glad your safe room stayed safe. Maybe Phoebe and the guys were right. Somebody thinks the diamonds are in the dress box or on the dress. Somebody besides Phoebe, Lance, or Zachary. They were in Mystick Falls the day the dress arrived at my store, but somebody else must have followed me and saw that I left the box at your house.” I s.h.i.+vered.
”Who are Phoebe, Lance, and Zachary?”
”Phoebe was Dom's girl Friday. Zach is Kyle's friend. Lance is Zach's brother and was Dom's leading man. They got Dom's dress to me that morning. At the cemetery, after Dom's service, I figured out that they were my delivery man and customers in disguise.”
”Any of their voices fit the phone threat?”
”No, the caller used a voice modulator.”
”I'm sorry, but you did need a bodyguard in New York. Sending Werner was a good idea.”
”Don't go there. He told me why you sent him.”
”To keep you out of harm's way, as well as out of trouble, I swear.”
”Don't perjure yourself.” I took another helping of pad Thai noodles, pure comfort food. ”My dad told me that somebody actually succeeded in breaking into your house but that the gown I made for Dominique is still in your safe room, but what about your things? Did anything of yours get stolen?”
”Between the police watching the place and the silent alarm, the guy barely got in before he was getting out. My neighbors saw an older guy in the area, red plaid flannel s.h.i.+rt, navy thermal vest, salt-and-pepper hair.”
”I'm so sorry that storing my dress at your place got you into trouble. It's time to stand on my own. I'll have a cold storage room put in upstairs as soon as possible, with an alarm of its own.”
”Mad, I like you keeping your stuff at my place.”
When had he gotten this close?
”Not a good idea,” I said, ”especially since we're off again.” I put my empty plate down and went to look beneath my counter for my chocolate stash. The bowl was empty.
Problem was, with me behind my counter, Nick had followed and boxed me in. And he kept coming closer.
Where was a cold shower when you needed one?