A touch of love (25 page)

Jesse had been struggling to put his feelings into words, and caught off guard, he cursed his own stupidity as he fought to remain in control of the Chevy. He saw a gold Corvette speed by on his right, and turned hard to cross two lanes to give pursuit.

"Are you all right?" he screamed.

Aubrey looked down, fully expecting to find her blouse soaked with blood, but it was as snowy white as when she had pulled it from her closet. She raised her hands to her hair, but they came away clean, as well. "I guess so. Are you?"

"I'm going to kill that rotten son-of-a-bitch!" Jesse knew his truck didn't have the Corvette's speed, but as the driver swung onto an off-ramp, he felt certain he had a good chance to catch him. There was no time to waste using his CB radio to summon the police, and he came barreling off the freeway with fire blazing in his eyes. The light was red at the bottom of the ramp, and a truck from a local

nursery filled with six-foot palm trees and glossy green ficus was waiting to make a right turn.

The Corvette swung around the truck on the left just as a homeless man in a long, floppy overcoat pushed a shopping cart filled with aluminum cans into the crosswalk. The sleek sportscar struck the cart a glancing blow and sent a shower of colorful cans into the air. The driver slammed on his brakes to avoid running over the vagrant, giving Jesse a split second to overtake him. Tromping the gas pedal, he plowed the front of the massive truck up and over the rear end of the Corvette, trapping the driver inside.

Jesse cut the engine and leapt down out of his truck, but then had to fight to pull the irate man who had lost a cartful of cans away from the Corvette. With the passenger side of the vehicle jammed against the nursery truck, the driver was trapped in his seat with a German shepherd howling as though he were being beaten. Even knowing the man was armed, Jesse nearly tore the door off the Corvette to get at him.

With his arm almost wrenched from its socket, John Gilroy fell to his knees as Jesse yanked him out of his car. He tried to protect himself with his right arm, but Jesse punched him so hard in the face, he lurched backwards. Jesse then slammed his knee into John's groin and stepped back to let him fall forward on the pavement.

Terrified Jesse might light into him next, the homeless man began running around gathering up his scattered cans and tossing them into the shopping cart which was now so badly bent the wheels would barely roll. The two gardeners left the nursery truck and grabbed a shovel and hoe to contain what they feared might fast become a riot. Too frightened to leave the Corvette, the German shepherd continued barking in high-pitched yelps.

Aubrey watched the whole ghastly scene from the safety of the truck, but she couldn't stop shaking—even after the police arrived and arrested John Gilroy for attempted murder.

Aubrey scarcely seemed to be listening, but Jesse didn't want his remark to be misinterpreted and moved forward cautiously. "No one would ever mistake Gilroy for a gang-banger cruising the freeway and shooting at cars for kicks. This was a deliberate attack on Ms. Glenn's life, and the only person with a reason to want her dead is Harlan Caine. Now if Gilroy was paid to get rid of Aubrey, it's likely that he was in on what happened to the Ferrell family, as well."

Helen Heffley was dressed in gray slacks and a loose-fitting gray silk blouse; her outfit was only slightly less forbidding than her expression. "We'll pursue that avenue," she promised without a shred of conviction.

Clearly the detective didn't like to be told how to do her job, but Jesse would not allow her to overlook the obvious. "Will the District Attorney offer Gilroy immunity in exchange for his testimony against Caine?"

"It's a possibility." Helen pursed her lips thoughtfully, then quickly wrote herself a note. "My partner and I would like nothing better than to get a conviction in the Ferrell case, so you may rest assured that we'll give it our best effort."

"Right." Jesse rose to his feet and glanced over at James Kobin who was nibbling a fingernail rather than following their conversation. Again dressed in the snug-fitting navy blue suit, he did not appear to pose a threat to any criminal's freedom. "Is there anything else?" Jesse asked.

Helen turned to check with her partner, and Kobin shook his head. "No. Thank you. That's all for today. We'll keep you informed."

"I'm taking Ms. Glenn home with me to Sedona. Let me give you my number there should you need us."

"Isn't Sedona where the spectacular red rock formations are?" Helen asked.

Jesse supplied his telephone number, and then answered. "Yes, it is. But I'd rather just relax in their

shadows than have to hide from the likes of Harlan Caine. ,, He spoke far more softly to Aubrey. "Are you ready to leave?"

Aubrey took a last sip of tea before looking up. "What happened to Gilroy's dog?" she asked the detectives.

"What dog?" Helen asked. She quickly flipped through the arresting officer's report. "There's a mention of a German shepherd, but Gilroy apparently referred to him as a stray, so he'll go to the pound."

"Why would Gilroy be picking up strays?" Jesse asked. "That doesn't make any sense at all. The dog must have been in his car for a reason."

James Kobin finally stopped fretting over his nail. "Maybe he expected the dog to bark and confuse anyone who thought they'd heard gunfire."

Helen's brows shot up, but aftef a moment's hesitation, she shrugged. "That's as good an explanation as we're likely to get. The dog's probably still here. Do you want him?"

Jesse watched a shadow cross Aubrey's expression and knew she was seriously considering it. "That hound would gobble up Guinevere in a single bite."

"He'd make a good watchdog though, wouldn't he?" Aubrey replied. "I just hate to send any animal to the pound, and from what I saw when you yanked Gilroy from his car, that poor dog was as badly shaken as we were. Maybe we should take him."

Jesse opened his mouth to argue, then decided he would much rather watch Aubrey fuss over a dog than stare into space as she had been for the last half-hour. "Where can I find him?"

James Kobin lurched from his seat. "I'll go look."

Aubrey handed Jesse her cup to toss away, then directed her attention to Helen Heffley. "Do you have any idea how I might remove bits of glass from my hair? I'm afraid

I'll slice up both my hands and my head should I try to shampoo it out."

"That is a problem, isn't it?" Helen rose and grabbed her wastebasket. "Just come here and lean over. I'll pull the pins from your hair, and the glass should fall out as easy as rain."

"I'm going to have my rear window replaced with bulletproof glass," Jesse swore. He had not thought much of Helen Heffley, but his opinion soared as the detective gently combed her fingers through Aubrey's curls to dislodge the remaining bits of glass. The shards fell into the metal wastebasket with the clatter of miniature hail, but in a matter of minutes, the last had been dislodged, and Aubrey straightened up.

"Thank you. This has been quite a day, hasn't it?" Aubrey murmured absently.

"Would you like to stick around for the rest of my shift?" Helen asked. "I can promise you plenty more excitement."

"We've already had more than enough,"Jesse answered. When Gilroy had fired at them, Jesse had been intent upon masking his need to take Aubrey home behind a casual invitation. He had had more of his attention focused on her response than the traffic on the freeway, and he knew they were damn lucky he hadn't lost control of the truck and splattered them and several other cars along the center divider. He sure wasn't looking forward to the long ride home, but at the same time, he was anxious to get going.

James Kobin returned within minutes with the German shepherd on a long leather leash. A new choke chain dangled around the dog's neck, but it had no license identification tag attached. When the detective came to a halt, the dog quickly sat down at his side and glanced up at him as though he expected a treat.

"That's someone's dog," Aubrey said. "He's obviously been well trained, and his collar and leash are new."

"If you don't want him to take his chances at the pound, we can run an ad in the Times and see if anyone claims him/'Jesse suggested.

Aubrey took the leash from Kobin. "Yes. That's a good idea. He must be someone's dear pet."

"Maybe not," Helen argued. "He looks young. Some breeders produce more pups than they can sell, and just send the extras to the pound. Some are adopted, but most aren't. I'd call that dog Lucky if I were you, because you're probably the best chance he'll have for a home."

"Lucky? I rather like that," Aubrey agreed. "Come on, Lucky. Let's go home."

The dog licked her hand and trotted along beside her toward the door. "I've never owned a big dog," Aubrey said as they walked toward Jesse's truck. "They eat a lot, don't they?"

"Yeah, they sure do. And let's hope he's housebroken."

Aubrey detoured around a tree, where the dog paused to relieve himself, and then led him to the truck. "Does he have to sit in the back?"

"With the rear window gone, he'd probably just climb in with us anyway; we might as well let him ride in the cab." Jesse still couldn't believe Aubrey actually wanted the dog, but the shepherd seemed to be good-natured, and he had complained that she needed more protection than tiny Guinevere could provide. As he pulled out of the Devonshire Division parking lot, he tried to recall just where he had been in the conversation when all hell had broken loose.

"When we get to your place, find someone to take care of your pets. Then pack a bag—you won't need much more than Levi's, a few shirts, and your toothbrush—and we'll leave for Sedona. If Harlan Caine hired John Gilroy, then he must be expecting him to report in, and when he

doesn't, I don't want to give Caine the opportunity to come after you himself."

"I can't stay long," Aubrey argued. She had given Lucky the place by the window, and was scratching his ears.

Jesse had never taken a woman home, and thought he ought to just concentrate on getting her there for now. "Let's take it one day at a time. I'll call the detectives assigned to the case every morning and keep after them to arrest Caine."

Jesse usually drove in a relaxed slouch, but he was sitting up straight, and Aubrey hoped he wasn't blaming himself for what had happened. "You've torn up your hands again."

Jesse flexed his bloody knuckles. "It was worth it. I'm only sorry Gilroy passed out before I could beat the truth out of him." He glanced toward Aubrey. "Maybe we ought to go after Caine ourselves."

"That's easily the worst idea you've ever had. He'd have you arrested for assault, and then where would we be?"

Jesse conceded the point, but he wasn't happy about it. When they reached Aubrey's, he called his Aunt Edith, but told her only that he had to get back home and would keep in touch. He packed up his gear and was ready to go long before Aubrey got herself organized, but he dared not rush her. She decided to take Lucky along, but found a neighbor, who had been a good friend of her parents, to look after Guinevere and feed Lucifer for the few days she assumed she would be away.

When the woman arrived, Aubrey introduced her as Cecile Blanchard. Jesse greeted her warmly, and Lucky wagged his tail as though he knew her. Cecile took one look at the friendly dog and smiled. "I didn't realize you'd gotten a new dog when I saw him the night the fire department was here. I didn't recognize the man walking him, but we exchanged a few words before he continued down

the street He knew less than I did, which was odd if he was a friend of yours."

Jesse was as alarmed as Aubrey, but tried not to let it show. "There are a great many German shepherds," he reminded Cecile. "What makes you think this is the same one?"

Cecile leaned down and Lucky came to her. "You see? He remembers me. That's a smart dog. He seemed real eager to explore the other night, and the man kept yanking on his leash. That's the same leather leash. You don't see many of those anymore. Most people have switched to the colorful nylon variety, but maybe leather works best for him."

"Can you remember anything about the man?" Aubrey asked.

Cecile glanced away and tried to recall. "Can't say that I do. I think he was wearing a cap and windbreaker, but I'm really not sure. I guess I was distracted by the dog."

"There was a lot of excitement that night," Aubrey added, before gently steering the conversation to the care of her pets in her absence. She waited until after Cecile had left with Guinevere before she allowed herself to dwell on the most obvious possibility. "Do you suppose Gilroy just grabbed a dog, any dog, as an excuse to walk through my neighborhood?"

"It's a good theory, and there's only one way he knew which night to pick. It's a shame Lucky can't testify against him, isn't it?"

"It sure is. Come on. Let's get out of here." After changing her Doris Day outfit for jeans and a T-shirt, Aubrey had thrown what she thought she would need into a colorful canvas satchel. She was certain she must have forgotten something, but was too anxious to be on their way to make a comprehensive list and conduct an inventory.

There was still plenty of light when they finally got on the

road. Fortunately, the weekend traffic was thick streaming back into Los Angeles rather than heading east, and they made good time. Jesse felt no need to talk, and enjoyed driving along in companionable silence. Lucky took up too much room in the cab, but Jesse didn't mind having Aubrey pressed close, and when she rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep, he was surprised by how good it felt to be taking her home.

He refused to push his thoughts past the next few days, but he intended to make them memorable. His home was nothing like Aubrey's elegant house, but it was comfortable and he liked to think it had a certain southwestern charm. So did he, he supposed, and he stifled a dry chuckle before he woke Aubrey. He wanted her to be well rested and he didn't care how tired he was, he was going to provide an enthusiastic welcome to his home.

They stopped for supper and gas in Blythe, then angled north. Aubrey fell asleep again, but was awakened abruptly several hours later when Jesse pulled off the highway onto the rutted dirt road that led to his ranch. "Sorry," he yelled above the clatter of the bouncing truck. "I'd pave this road, but that would just encourage people to turn down it, and you're all the company I need."