Bad Girls Don't (28 page)

“I’m not going anywhere. I already told you that. No one is running me off like some stray dog.”

Back to the canine motif again. Did this represent some message totem for her?

As far as she was concerned, the message was clear. Time to replace Seductress Skye with Skye the Super Sleuth. Time to go into Nancy Drew mode. She’d eat nails before admitting she’d read those books as a kid, having gotten a box of them from a thrift shop in Oregon. The versions she’d picked up had been the vintage books from the 1930s, the ones with blue cloth covers. In
The Password to Larkspur Lane
, Nancy had driven a roadster, worn bobby socks, and pondered clues.

These days, it would be cooler for Skye to think of herself as some sort of kick-butt heroine of comic-book fame. Anyone but Catwoman. That movie was too lame.

But she had a soft spot in her consciousness for good ol’ crime solver Nancy Drew.

Whatever her secret identity as a crime solver, Skye could gather information on her own. She’d never believed in depending on the authorities to solve her problems. Why should this be any different?

She had to take a proactive stand in solving this crime, and get Nathan out of her apartment ASAP.

But she had some tinghsa-bell ringing to take care of first.

 

 

Nathan lay staring up at the crack in Skye’s living room ceiling. It was well after midnight and he’d already memorized the ragged shape of that crack. Skye had turned off the lights at ten, with the curt warning, “Don’t waste electricity.”

He remembered those words. And he remembered the lights going out in his office, during his first run-in with Skye. Her daughter had switched off the lights then, plunging him into darkness.

At the time, he’d said he was accustomed to darkness. Which was true. But since he’d gotten involved with Skye . . . she brought a certain flash of fireworks along with her.

Involved?
Is that what he was? When he’d heard the news of a fire at the theater, his gut had clenched at the possibility that Skye might have been hurt in the blaze.

So here he was. Camped out on her living room floor.

He tensed at the sound of her bare feet padding down the hallway toward him. Moonlight shone through the living room’s gauzy curtains to highlight her as if by some kind of weird celestial magic.

She was wearing the same llama shorts and top she’d worn when he’d almost made love to her on the couch before they’d been interrupted by her daughter.

“You don’t have to stay on the floor.”

Was she inviting him into her bed? Did he have the strength to refuse?

“You can sleep in Toni’s bed,” she said.

“No way.” The words came out more vehemently than he’d intended.

“Why not? Afraid of a little girl’s room?”

Absolutely. He was more than afraid. Skye didn’t have to know the reasons why. No one did.

“She loves that kitten book you got her.”

Nathan didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear.

“You know, in some cultures, if you save someone’s life, that person is beholden to you forever. A bond is created.”

“Children that age can’t be expected to remember street safety,” he said as if by rote.

Skye came closer and studied him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” she said softly. “I can tell when something’s wrong.”

“Are you going to tell me you read minds now?”

“I can sense things.”

“No more New Age stuff. I’m beat. I’m going to sleep.” He tugged the sleeping bag up to his chin and turned his back on her. He’d been up all night, investigating the fire. And the night before that he hadn’t slept much, torn by his obsession with Skye and residual guilt over Annie.

He hadn’t felt guilty the few times a woman had come into his life prior to this. Probably because he knew she’d be right back out of it again real soon. Nothing permanent.

And Skye should have been like that. Temporary. She sure wasn’t a card-carrying member of the white-picket-fence club.

But there was something about her that was different.

Well, actually,
everything
about her was different. From her short, spiky, yet surprisingly silky hair to her navel ring to her shimmying hips to her deliciously bare feet.

It wasn’t just her appearance. Her behavior and thought processes were also unique. She excelled at the unexpected.

Like tonight, when he’d shown up unannounced at her door. Instead of trying to toss him out on his ass, she’d blown his mind by talking about having sex with him.

And that was another thing. Skye never referred to it as “making love,” the way most women did. Why was that? Did the word
love
scare her? Nathan couldn’t imagine much frightening her. Then he remembered Skye’s face when Toni had dashed into the street and almost been hit by that truck.

Stark terror. In his heart and on Skye’s pale face, so ashen a few freckles had suddenly stood out. Raw fear had glazed her bottle-green eyes, obscuring all traces of their customary defiance.

Once Toni was out of danger and back at her side, Skye had recovered quickly. Or appeared to. And that night, Skye had had “sex” with him.

He should have been fine with that. Should have been laid-back about it. Should have been satisfied.

Instead, he was as confused as ever. And he hated that.

This had happened days ago. So why was Nathan thinking about it now? He should be focusing on how to find the vandal or vandals intent on sabotaging the theater renovation.

“You scowl a lot. Did you know that?” Skye said.

Yeah, he knew. He’d had plenty of things in his life to scowl about, to beat his fists on the ground and howl with grief about. But, as he’d learned in the Marine Corps, you sucked it up and managed. Failure was not an option.

No excuses.

No exceptions.

Sighing, Skye turned around and headed back to her bed, while Nathan battled his inner demons and his growing fascination with a belly-dancing bad girl.

The minute Nathan left for work the next morning, Skye set to work on her crime-fighting agenda. She’d just started brainstorming when Sue Ellen showed up. “Where were you last night? You missed an incredible game. The Trojans were behind by two touchdowns with only five minutes to go. Somehow they scored twice and the game went into overtime. Brad the kicker won the game for them. Even Lulu thought it was awesome.”

“I was distracted by the fire.”

“Fire?” Sue Ellen’s lavishly made-up eyes widened. “What fire?”

“Here at the theater. How could you not know about it?”

“Why didn’t you call me on my cell to tell me? I was out of town taking a realtor course all day yesterday. I barely got back in time for the game last night.”

“Lulu didn’t tell you about the fire?”

“I was focused on the game and wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. Don’t you think the coach is a manly man?” Noting Skye’s expression, she said, “Never mind. Tell me about this fire. How did it start?”

“Someone set it.”

“Who?”

“We don’t know yet, but I aim on finding out.”

“Why do you have a sleeping bag rolled up in the corner?”

“It’s not mine. It’s Nathan’s.”

“You and Nathan made out in a sleeping bag?”

“No, he stayed in the living room to protect me.”

“From what? He doesn’t have any STDs, does he?”

“Not that I know of. Can we focus here, Sue Ellen?”

“Sure. What are we focusing on?”

“I’m going to find out who’s trying to sabotage my opening the theater.”

“I think it’s Milton.”

“So do I. Now we have to prove it.”

“I’ve got the perfect way to do that. Follow me.”

Fifteen minutes later, they stood in the alley behind Milton’s two-story brick home.

“I’m going to give you a lesson in garbology,” Sue Ellen told her before putting on latex gloves. She handed another pair to Skye. “Good thing I keep these in my car, huh?”

“The pink Batmobile has many secrets,” Skye agreed. To avoid detection, they’d parked a few blocks away. “How did you get to be an expert on the subject of garbology? Don’t tell me you were once Miss Refuse?”

“Of course not. Although I was once crowned Miss Chow Chow.”

“Isn’t that some kind of dog?”

“No, it’s a relish.”

“Have you noticed a food motif in all your pageant titles?”

“What can I say? I told you I’ve got good taste. Ah, now this is what you want to look for. Incriminating papers.” Sue Ellen triumphantly held up some slips of paper.

“Those are coupons from Gas4Less.”

“And some of them have been cut out. Which proves that Milton is both neat and cheap.”

“What if his wife cut them out?”

“Are you kidding? Robin is not the tidy sort. I know. The girls at the nail salon tell me these things. His wife would have ripped out the coupons, not cut them. It’s these little details that make the difference in crime solving. Let’s keep looking. Thank heavens for recycling! I
hate
having to go through dirty garbage. Presorting makes it so much easier.”

Skye was about to ask for more details about Sue Ellen’s “dirty garbage” days, but was distracted when her friend pulled out another sheaf of paper and waved it at her. “Look at this!”

“I’m trying to,” Skye muttered, “but you keep moving it around. What is it?”

“Sears has a sale on boots. Look at this black suede pair with the heel . . .”

“Will you concentrate here?” Skye yanked the sale flyer away from her. “And keep your voice down. Someone could hear us. Or see us, since it
is
the middle of the morning.”

“Everyone on this block works. No one is around.”

“Wait a second. Isn’t today Saturday? That means people are home.”

“Right. At home, not in the alley. We’ll be fast. Stop worrying. Aha!” Sue Ellen pounced again.

Skye was not impressed with her find. “A subscription invoice for
Playboy
. Torn in half and thrown away. That doesn’t help us. I’m beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Only
beginning
to?” Nathan drawled behind her.

Sue Ellen shrieked. “Mercy, Sheriff! Sneaking up on a person like that is liable to give them a heart attack.”

“What are you ladies doing?”

“Studying garbology,” Sue Ellen explained.

“Making sure everyone is recycling,” Skye said at the same time.

“Right.” Sue Ellen nodded. “Studying garbology
and
making sure everyone is recycling.”

“We’re multitasking,” Skye said.

Sue Ellen sighed. “And we’re in trouble, right?”

“Save the investigating for the professionals, ladies,” Nathan ordered them sternly. “The next time I find you playing amateur detective, I won’t be as lenient.”

Once they were back in the Batmobile, Sue Ellen pulled a handful of papers out from under her blouse. “I guess the trick is not letting him find us.”

Skye gave her a high five. “You’re learning, grasshopper.”

 

 

“Is it true?” Fanny Abernathy demanded in belly-dancing class a few days later.

“Is what true?” Skye was a bit distracted because she’d run late from her yoga class at the high school. She hadn’t planned on the class being as successful as it was. Coach Spears insisted she continue with it or risk breaking the team’s winning streak. He was still antsy about the loss they’d almost suffered in their last game, when Skye had been a no-show.

As for her Nancy Drew gig, that wasn’t going very well. None of the papers Sue Ellen had hidden in her cleavage had been incriminating. As an accountant, Milton was too smart to leave a paper trail and not to shred anything that might link him to the crimes.

“There’s a rumor going around that you and the sheriff have set up housekeeping.”

Skye snorted. “That makes it sound like we’re doing dishes together.”

“Are you
doing
each other?” Sue Ellen asked.

The other women shrieked.

Sue Ellen just looked at them. “What? You were all wondering the same thing, so don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

“Ladies, we have a teenager present.” Fanny clapped her arthritic hands over Lulu’s ears. Lulu had joined the class only this week.

“Oh, please. She knows more about sex than the rest of us do,” Sue Ellen said.

“Damn right.” Lulu shifted Fanny’s hands away from her face. “Do you know how many suicides are caused by bad sexual experiences—”

Sue Ellen shoved Fanny aside and clapped her hand over Lulu’s mouth. “No, and we don’t want to know any of your depressing statistics. This is a belly-dancing class. We’re supposed to be focusing on our inner divas.”

“And not choking our friends,” Skye added, gently removing Sue Ellen’s hand.

“Right. Sorry about that.” Sue Ellen put her arm around Lulu and gave her a gentle hug. “Let me make it up to you by showing your grandfather a double-wide trailer.”

“How does that make up for assaulting me?” Lulu demanded, stepping away from Sue Ellen as if fearing for her safety.

“I could get him a good deal.”

“He’s already got a trailer.”

“I know. Over in Broken Creek Trailer Park. But that’s not a good location, and you know what they say about real estate. Location, location, location.”

“Can we get back to the subject of Skye doing the sheriff?” Lulu asked hopefully.

“Doing
what
with the sheriff?” Fanny asked, reaching into her ear to turn up her hearing aid. “I can’t hear you.”

“You’re whistling,” Lulu told her.

“No, I’m not,” Fanny protested.

Lulu pointed to her ear.

“Oh, the hearing aid.” Fanny adjusted it again.

“I don’t think it’s anyone’s business what the sheriff and Skye are doing together in the privacy of her bedroom,” Nancy Crumpler said, jumping into the conversation for the first time. “If the two of them want to try out every pose in the Kama Sutra, that’s their business.”