Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced (13 page)

“Famous enough.” And drop-dead beautiful. They might not recognize her as Cherry Onatop. But they’d sure as hell notice those striking cheekbones and sultry eyes.

“People aren’t going to recognize me,” she assured him in a confident tone. She zipped her bag and met his gaze, her body emanating a tangible nervous energy. “You, on the other hand … ”

He’d changed into vintage denim bellbottoms and a baggy, long-sleeved thermal, but other than that he looked exactly as he had when that front desk clerk had snapped their picture. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ve spent years dodging attention.”

“And months dodging life,” she muttered while stooping to tighten the laces of her shoes.

Joe stared down at the top of her capped head. What the hell was that? A comment on his resignation from the Bureau? She sounded like his brother. Since when was reevaluating and reprioritizing
dodging
? “What I meant to say,” he managed in a calm tone, “is that I’m trained in deception.”

“That makes two of us.” She stood, hefted her bulging backpack, and shifted anxiously on the generic running shoes he’d bought her. She looked all of eighteen and ready to backpack across Europe. “Ready?” she asked.

And willing
.

“Almost.” He cursed his lustful thoughts—
pull it together, Bogart
—and ran a mental check list. He’d packed a suit and essentials into a rolling garment bag. His laptop was secured inside a leather case along with his genuine passport, and two sets of false ID—just in case. As Murphy was fond of saying, expect the unexpected.

He didn’t like what they were about to do, but knew she’d find her way to Los Angeles with or without him. Since he didn’t aim on letting her out of his sight, and since they had to relocate anyway, he’d set the wheels in motion. After a couple of pit stops, they’d be on a plane headed for LA.

Joe gave the home he’d come to think of as his sanctuary a last visual sweep. The thought of the paparazzi closing in, encroaching on his solitude and privacy, torched his blood. “How do you put up with it?” he wondered aloud as he lowered the living room blinds.

“How do I put up with what?” Sofia asked.

What he really wanted to know was not how, but why. Her professional aspirations were no doubt rooted in her childhood. He knew his were. “Never mind.” Understanding Sofia would only solidify an emotional bond. Bad enough the physical aspect of their relationship was spinning out of control. He tripped the security system, his body buzzing with sexual awareness as he cupped her elbow and ushered her out the door. “Let’s roll.”

Rainbow Ridge, Vermont

“I’m exhausted.”

“You’re actually admitting that?”

Afia tipped up her face and kissed Jake on his cocky jaw. “You don’t look so spry either, Mr. Fix-it.”

Jake just smiled.

Rudy started to thank him again—he’d not only fixed the swing, he’d helped Murphy reposition the satellite dish—but a case of the fuzzies clogged his throat. He relaxed deeper into his recliner, the one piece of furniture that he’d brought from his old townhouse, and watched his two closest friends in the world snuggle on the antique chaise. Cocooned in her husband’s arms, Afia glowed with contentment and love. The same love radiated from Jake along with a fierce protective streak. Next month this cozy couple would expand to a family of three. A boy or a girl, he didn’t know as they’d opted to be surprised.

Jake smoothed his hand over Afia’s rounded belly and kissed the top of her head as the commercial segued back into the movie and she focused on the television. Sunshine cracked through the gloom that had dogged Rudy since daybreak.
This
was what he’d hoped for, the creative visualization that had cinched his decision to buy Hollyberry Inn. Aside from wanting a home and business that he could share with Jean-Pierre, he’d wanted a resort where loving couples, straight or gay, could cuddle and talk, and rediscover why they’d fallen in love in the first place.

He glanced over at Lulu and Murphy sitting together on the great room’s velvet sofa, a little less cozy, but no less in love. That blurb on
Hollywood Highlights
had been a kick in the gut to everyone.

Especially Lulu.

Presently, she was munching on popcorn and watching Cary Grant and Grace Kelly’s
To Catch a Thief
, the only movie they’d all been able to agree on. But Rudy wasn’t fooled. He knew she was thinking about that gossip feature and trying to make sense of it. Admittedly, he’d been equally surprised to learn that Sofia and Joe Bogart were an item.

Sure. There’d been some chemistry between those two over the fall during that FBI sting, but no one expected anything to come of it. Sofia sought approval and fame, while Bogie, as Murphy called him, craved justice and anonymity. Both headstrong and blind in their dedication, they clashed on several levels. Then again, Afia and Jake were as different as the sun and moon yet, somehow
they
made sense. As did Lulu and Murphy. And, yes dammit, he and Jean-Pierre.

What didn’t make sense was him sitting in the great room of the Hollyberry Inn, the place he’d purchased as a show of love, without the man he loved.

Sweat beaded his brow as catastrophic thoughts returned full force. During their walk, Afia had assured him nothing bad had happened to Jean-Pierre. “
He’s just angry
,” she’d said. “
He’ll get over it
.” Well, as soon as he “got over it” and called, Rudy would beg him to hop the first plane east. They’d de-ghost Hollyberry Inn together. Screw his earlier concerns. It wasn’t like JP was a wimp, far from it. If Casper lobbed a candlestick, he’d duck and curse the bitter ghost in French. Too bad he hadn’t been thinking this clearly last night. Yet again, he’d made things worse by underestimating the younger man.

Jake glanced away from the screen, rubbed the heel of his hand over his brow. “Is it hot in here, or is it me?”

“It’s not you.” Murphy shoved up the long sleeves of his crewneck pullover.

Afia yawned loudly. “It’s making me sleepy.”

“Well, I’m not tired,” Lulu said in her little girl voice. “I’m jazzed. I hope that satellite thingee doesn’t go out again, because I plan on surfing the channels after you guys go to bed. Maybe there’ll be an update on Sofie and Joe.” She glanced sideways at her husband, scowled. “I have to get my information
somewhere
.”

Murphy didn’t flinch. “There’s nothing to tell. They’re together. They’re fine.”

“Then, why won’t she answer her cell phone?”

“I told you, hon, the battery’s drained. And before you ask again, no, I’m not giving you Bogie’s cell number. Give them some privacy.”

The last part sounded like an order to Rudy. Then again, Murphy was former military and current leader of a protective specialist team. He routinely barked orders. Lulu routinely blew over his concerns. She had a mind of her own, and even though she taxed his patience, Murphy was powerless to combat her whimsical charm.

Rudy smothered a smile. The hard-assed bodyguard was a veritable mush when it came to his wife. He’d scoured every toy store in Atlantic County for a pink poodle purse when hers had been torched in a fire. He probably wasn’t angry with Lulu just now as much as concerned that, if he didn’t nip it in the bud, she’d work herself into a red-hazed fury and, as she called it, wig-out. She’d approached the red zone earlier tonight during dinner when she’d obsessed on that unflattering news piece.
What had possessed Sofie to drink so much? How could Joe take advantage of her in that state, and why were they together anyway
?

Everyone had reminded her that
Hollywood Highlights
was a gossip program. Drunken love-fest was probably an exaggeration. Unfortunately, there was no taming her imagination. She had it in her head that Sofia was in trouble, and that was that.

“I’m sure your sister would have called you if anything was wrong,” Afia gently said.

“You don’t know Sofie. She doesn’t confide in me if she thinks it will upset me.”

Afia looked from Jake to Rudy. “Sounds familiar.”

Rudy refrained from raising his hand and admitting, “
Guilty as charged
.” He simply slid Jake a glance that said, “
Thanks a lot
.” He wished he’d stop letting the man manipulate him into shielding Afia from the occasional painful truth. Like when he and Jean-Pierre separated after the indiscretion. Not wanting to upset Afia at a critical time in her pregnancy, Jake had convinced them to downplay their troubles.

It had taken Afia all of three weeks to deduce the real score. His ears still smarted from her lecture on friendship and honesty. Thing was, sheltering a sensitive soul like Afia came as second nature for a caretaker like Rudy. This afternoon he’d lied about Casper, saying he was an obnoxious stray cat that sometimes got underfoot. It was better than risking the truth and spooking her. Born on Friday the thirteenth, his sweet-natured friend had old issues with bad mojo. If she overreacted and went into early labor, he’d never forgive himself.

Just then the TV reception skewed. Warped images. Static.

“Nuts!” Lulu set aside the bowl of popcorn and sighed. “How am I supposed to get an update on Sofie?”

“We’re going to miss the end of the movie,” Afia pouted.

Jake eyed Murphy. “I thought you tweaked the position of the dish antenna for the strongest signal.”

“I did. I fine-tuned the hell out of the system.”

The lights flickered.

Rudy grit his teeth. There hadn’t been a paranormal incident since the porch swing debacle. He’d hoped Casper was shy, that the gang had scared him into hiding. He should’ve known the ghost’s silence was too good to last.

“Maybe there’s a storm coming.” Lulu hugged herself against an imagined chill.

She couldn’t possibly be cold. Rudy’s shirt was sticking to his skin. It occurred to him that it wasn’t just warm in this room, but abnormally hot. No wonder everyone was cranky. Ghostly fingers must’ve tapped the thermostat. “Dammit, Casper.”

The roof creaked. Metal whined. An eerie yowl infiltrated the walls.

Afia sat up straight, eyes wide. “That doesn’t sound like a cat to me.”

Jake and Murphy bolted to their feet. “Stay put,” they ordered their wives while exiting the room as a team.

Rudy followed. Typically these two carried guns. The last thing he wanted was a shootout at Hollyberry Inn. That kind of press would definitely put a damper on business. Then he remembered that they’d flown on a commercial flight which probably meant they’d left their weapons at home. And what was he thinking anyway? How could they shoot what they couldn’t see?

Unless the intruder wasn’t Casper, but a living breathing burglar trying to break in. He didn’t know which was worse.

“You take the front,” Murphy said to Jake. “I’ve got the back.”

The lights flickered off, on, off, and stayed off. Moonbeams shone through the gauzy curtains. Shadows danced on the walls. “What about me?” Rudy whispered.

“Stay with the women,” Murphy said, before disappearing toward the back door.

Rudy bristled. “It’s my property. If someone’s trespassing, I’ll deal with it.”

“We’re trained to track and detain.” A silent
you’re not
hung in the air. Jake squeezed his shoulder. “Stay with Afia and Lulu. Protect your home. Protect the women.”

The former Jersey cop didn’t wait for an answer. He blew out the front door and left Rudy standing in the pitch-black foyer. His senses buzzed with heightened clarity. Every creak, ping and tick seemed amplified by the darkness and silence. He’d been living in the middle of nowhere for two months now. He’d never been bothered by the silence or seclusion. Then again, he’d never suspected an intruder. Well, aside from Casper. But he didn’t count. He was dead.

Protect the women. Yeah. Okay. He could do that. He’d earned a blue belt in Tae Kwon Do. And thanks to his dad, if push came to shove he knew how to fight dirty. Early on Barney Gallow had suspected his son, a Broadway show tune fanatic, might need to defend himself against bullies AKA homophobes.

He felt his way from the foyer through the living room, destination: the great room and the girls.

Except the girls weren’t in the great room.

He whispered their names. He called their names. He stood there for a moment, anxious and slightly disoriented.

He heard a metallic creak and distant pops.

The TV and the great room lights blared in tandem with two feminine shrieks.

Rudy flew toward the sound of hysteria. Oh, Jesus. Sweet Jesus. He whizzed around the corner of the dining room too fast and banged his hip on the solid mahogany china cabinet. Eyes crossed in pain, he rushed forward and collided with a misplaced side chair. He and the chair tumbled over the threshold into the darkened kitchen just as Murphy exploded through the back door. The protection specialist tripped over Rudy’s body and plowed into Jake who’d sailed in on Rudy’s heels. A collage of blasphemous curses polluted the air as Murphy pushed out of Jake’s arms and Rudy untangled his arms from the chair’s carved legs.

The kitchen light flicked on.