Jinx (21 page)

“Spill it,” Carmen said. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

I sat down at the massive wooden table and told them everything that had happened—editing the scene in the bathroom—and who I thought Debonair really was under all that leather.

“You’re telling me that Devlin Dash, who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she drew him a picture and climbed onto his lap to demonstrate, is actually Debonair, one of the most sought-after men in Bigtime?” Lulu asked. “The Romeo of Romeos? The Casanova of Casanovas?”

“You don’t believe me?” I asked. “I brought a copy of the check and the drawing along as proof.”

I laid the two items out on the table. Carmen and Lulu clustered around for a closer look.

“Well, they certainly look the same,” Carmen admitted. “Lulu?”

The petite Asian woman took the drawing and the check, and put them both in a large scanner tucked away in a corner of the library. She hit a few buttons, and the machine sputtered to life. A white light appeared between the cracks on the cover.

Lulu punched more buttons, bringing up images of the signatures on the check and drawing on her computer. Then, she overlapped them.

A perfect match. Just like I’d thought.

“Bella’s right. The signatures confirm it. Devlin Dash is, in fact, Debonair.” Lulu shook her head. “I don’t know what this town is coming to.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“First, I find out who the Fearless Five really are, then Johnny Angel, now Debonair. Pretty soon I’ll know who everybody is. And what’s the fun in that?” Lulu asked, her dark eyes serious. “Half the mystique of superheroes is the whole secret-identity thing.”

“Well, get Henry to put on his mask the next time the two of you are together,” I sniped. “Right now, we’ve got work to do. I need your help, both of you. I want to know everything there is to know about Devlin Dash and Debonair.”

Carmen arched an eyebrow. “Why the sudden interest, Bella? Or do I even have to ask?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “If you must know, I have a date with Devlin tomorrow night.”

“Let me guess. You’re going to confront him about his real identity.” Lulu shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not? It will be so much simpler once everything’s out in the open.”

Carmen and Lulu exchanged a look, and the brunette reporter gave me a sad smile.

“I’m afraid that’s just when it gets that much more complicated,” Carmen said.

But I persisted until they agreed to help me. Carmen and Lulu tried to make me promise not to say anything to Devlin, to let him tell me that he was Debonair in his own time, but I refused. I was going to confront him whether it was the smart thing to do or not. I was tired of being sensible and calm and rational. I wanted Devlin to know I knew about his secret identity—and I wanted to find out if there was something real between us.

An hour later, Carmen and I pored through reams of paper, while Lulu pulled up file after file on her computer. I read through the bio Carmen had compiled. Devlin Dash. Age 35. Hair black, eyes a light blue. Graduated from Bigtime University with an MBA. Lots of academic and business honors. A Friend of the Bigtime Museum of Modern Art—

Lulu let out a low whistle. “I’m afraid it’s not looking too good for your boy, Bella.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?” I asked, distracted by a photo spread of Debonair and his Lair of Seduction. I doubted there was a camera made yet that could do him justice.

“His company, DCQ Enterprises, is in deep financial trouble. According to a story in the business section of the
Exposé
, the company’s chief financial officer, Nathan Nichols, was accused of embezzling several million dollars from the company coffers.”

A photo of Nathan Nichols flashed up on the screen. He was a normal-looking guy with big hands and thinning hair who was confined to a wheelchair. I vaguely recalled seeing him at some of the regular society events. Like Devlin, he didn’t seem to talk much.

“But nothing was ever proven, and no charges were filed against Nathan,” Lulu continued. “Over the last year, Devlin’s sold cars, yachts, family jewels, just about all the assets he has to keep the company afloat. His net worth barely tops two million now. Definitely subpar by Bigtime society standards. Poor guy.” Lulu snickered at her bad joke.

“I remember hearing about that,” I said. “That happened around the time my father died. It was the talk of the society circuit for about a week.”

Most people had short attention spans in Bigtime.

“What does Devlin actually do?” Carmen asked. “What does DCQ deal in?”

Lulu scanned through more information. “Lots of real estate, restaurants, media and PR firms, art restoration—”

“Wait a minute. Art restoration?” I asked, thinking back to the room of paintings at the Lair of Seduction.

“That’s what it says. One of DCQ’s companies is called Amazing Art. They specialize in restoring and preserving paintings by the likes of Monet, Picasso, and others. Devlin seems to be the most heavily involved with that company. Grace Caleb runs everything else. Kelly Caleb and Kyle Quicke are the other major stockholders in DCQ, but they’re not really involved in the day-to-day business decisions.”

“So, Devlin really is an art lover,” I murmured.

Maybe all his talk about how good my work was hadn’t been just to get me into bed. The thought made me happier than I could have imagined.

Carmen flipped through the papers in her hands. “Well, he’s managed to hang on to the family mansion out in Bigtime Bay at least.” She looked at me. “It’s about three miles east of where we picked you up in the boat. But that shouldn’t come as a shock to you.”

I thought of all the empty rooms I’d seen with their missing furniture. Carmen was right. It didn’t surprise me. I didn’t think I could be any more shocked than I had the moment I’d realized who Debonair really was.

“There’s more,” Lulu added. “Devlin is currently fending off a hostile takeover bid from Hannah Harmon. He’s hanging on by the width of a spandex suit. And in another interesting twist, Nathan Nichols now works for Hannah as her chief financial officer.”

I frowned. Hannah Harmon. That was the second time I’d heard her name today. That in and of itself wasn’t unusual. Hannah loved to take over floundering businesses. If Devlin was having as much trouble as Lulu claimed, it was only natural Hannah would come sniffing around looking to make more millions. Joanne had told me the same thing at the museum benefit. Still, I didn’t like coincidences.

“You don’t think Hannah could be an ubervillain, do you?” I asked, thinking out loud.

“Why do you ask?” Carmen said.

I told her about Hannah’s strange phone call.

Carmen’s eyes glowed for half a second. They always did that whenever she was feeling psychic vibrations. Or listening to the voices in her head, as Fiona called it. “She’s rich and ambitious, so she meets the basic ubervillain requirements, even if she’s not on my list.”

Lulu and I looked at the reporter.

“What list?” I asked.

A guilty blush spotted Carmen’s cheeks, and she mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“My list of all the superheroes and ubervillains in Bigtime,” Carmen said in a defensive tone. “I’ve been trying to figure out who’s who in my spare time. It’s sort of a hobby.”

“You didn’t tell me that, Sister Carmen,” Lulu accused.

Carmen fiddled with one of her Rubik’s Cubes. “Yeah, well, I figured the information could be useful someday. But I didn’t want to tell Sam and the others what I was doing. You know they’re all a little touchy about the secret-identity thing.”

“Well, they did get stuffed into glass tubes and almost died because you inadvertently revealed their secret identities to the Terrible Triad,” Lulu pointed out.

Carmen slouched farther down into her seat. Before she met Sam and became a superhero herself, Carmen used to expose the secret identities of heroes and villains for the newspaper the
Exposé—
until her boss turned out to be Malefica, the biggest, baddest ubervillain in Bigtime.

I looked through more files, stopping when I spotted a picture of Devlin standing with Grace Caleb at some society event last year.

“I want you to check up on Grace Caleb too,” I said, changing the subject.

Carmen shot me a grateful look.

“Why?” Lulu asked. “She’s just another old society lady. Sneeze and you’ll hit half a dozen in this town.”

“She’s Devlin’s grandmother—and she just happened to have a
family emergency
while we were having dinner last night.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Family emergency? That’s such a dead giveaway.”

We sifted through the information on Grace Caleb, but couldn’t come up with anything conclusive. She seemed far too interested in her afternoon teas and bridge clubs to be a superhero. Then again, I never would have dreamed Devlin Dash was Debonair.

Two hours later, I stretched my arms over my head. The motion made the charms on my silver bracelet jangle together. The three of us froze. I hadn’t taken off the chain since Jasper had given it to me. I hadn’t needed to use it, so, for the most part, I was able to forget I was wearing something that could obliterate me in twenty seconds. Not now, though. I slowly lowered my arm and set it on the table. Nothing happened. We all let out a breath.

“How are you liking Jasper’s present?” Lulu asked, eyeing the bracelet.

“It’s a bit strange knowing I could blow up myself and most of Bigtime with a couple of words, but you get used to it.”

Carmen nodded. “You get used to a lot of strange things in this town.”

24

By the time we’d finished checking up on Devlin and Grace, it was close to midnight. Carmen invited me to stay in one of the hundred or so guest suites upstairs, but I headed home. I’d had enough superheroes for one day, no matter how nice they were. My luck decided to be good for a change, giving me nothing but green lights, and I got home in less than twenty minutes.

Debonair didn’t
pop!
inside the house to surprise me, though. I didn’t know if it was because he’d gotten what he wanted last night, or if he was out being Devlin Dash. And I didn’t know what I would have done if he had appeared. Probably fallen into bed with him yet again. I had precious little control where the handsome thief was concerned.

I slept late for a change and didn’t get up until almost noon the next day. My luck kept pulsing around me, as if it knew I had an important day ahead. After I fried two elliptical trainers and a stationary bike, I threw in the towel on my workout and headed upstairs.

But I didn’t fare any better in the kitchen. I tried to make myself a veggie special sandwich on whole-grain, calcium-fortified bread. First, the bread fell apart in my hands. Then, a tomato flew off the counter and splattered onto one of the kitchen windows. The lettuce exploded, the cheese molded the second I took it out of the refrigerator, and I snapped a knife in two when I dipped it in a jar of low-fat mayonnaise. The jagged blade missed my big toe by less than an inch.

After destroying just about everything I touched, I went back upstairs and stayed in bed sketching until it was time to get ready for my date with Devlin. I wanted to look good when I confronted my sexy, leather-wearing lover, so I took a long shower and pampered myself with all sorts of lotions and creams and other assorted beauty products. I also put mounds of conditioner in my hair in the hope that, just once, it wouldn’t frizz. My nice, smooth look lasted about two minutes before my hair became sky-high once more.

Then, it was time to decide what to wear. I’d just settled on a nice pinstriped skirt and white blouse when a flash of scarlet caught my eye. I reached into the back of my closet and pulled out a crimson dress Fiona had made me for my birthday. The fabric reached the floor, but it had a deep, V-shaped neckline and high slits all around the skirt that showed off my legs. The dress was made of soft, slick, shiny satin and dotted here and there with sequins, glass beads, and bits of feathers. It also happened to be the exact same color as the teddy I’d sported in the Lair of Seduction.

I’d never worn the dress before. It was a little too loud, a little too bold and daring and revealing for me. But I was in a bold sort of mood tonight. So, I slithered into the dress, put on the reddest lipstick I owned, and grabbed a matching purse and shoes. As a final touch, I fastened my favorite silver angel charm around my throat. It went nicely with the bracelet Jasper had given me. I was getting rather used to having the bomb maker’s charms dangle off my wrist. I didn’t know whether that was good or bad.

I went downstairs around seven-thirty to check on Bobby. He relaxed on the couch in the living room, watching a soccer game.

“You look marvelous.” Bobby whistled. “Is that a new dress?”

I turned around. “One of Fiona’s creations.”

“Well, it looks wonderful on you,” he said.

“Why are you sitting here alone? Shouldn’t you be out with Grace tonight? Or is she dropping by later?”

“No, she’s not coming over tonight,” Bobby said. “She had a few errands to do. We’re having dinner tomorrow, though.”

“Maybe it will go better than the other night.”

My grandfather frowned. “We’ll see.”

“Well, I need to get going. I’ll call you if I’m going to be late,” I promised.

“Have a good time, darling.” Bobby turned back to his game.

I clutched my purse, which contained the drawing of Debonair that I’d done, along with the check Devlin had written me. “Oh, it will be very interesting, to say the least.”

Five minutes before eight, I stopped my silver Benz in front of Quicke’s. Despite the fact that traffic crawled along and every spot on the street was taken, another vehicle decided to leave at the exact moment I turned onto the block. So I slid my car into a parking spot with no problem. Devlin stood on the sidewalk, waiting for me. He came over and held out a hand to help me out of the car. I took it, noticing how sure and capable his hands were. They looked exactly like the same hands that had driven me mad the other night.

“Here. This is for you.” Devlin held out a single red rose.

“A rose. How lovely.”

I sniffed it. It didn’t smell nearly as wonderful as Debonair did. No rose ever could. They didn’t have his faint, musky, masculine undertones.

Devlin’s eyes flicked up and down my body. “You look amazing, Bella. That color really looks wonderful on you.”

“So I’ve been told,” I said, baiting him just a little.

No reaction. Not even a blink. Maybe Devlin was better at this than I thought. Or maybe I just wasn’t as good.

“You look nice too. Very handsome.”

And he did. For once, Devlin wore a dark blue business suit that seemed to fit just right. He’d forgone a tie, leaving his collar unbuttoned and exposing just the tiniest bit of his chest, including a patch of dark, curly hair. My power flared at the sight of him, and I had to will it to be still and not interfere.

Devlin held out his arm. “Shall we?”

I drew in a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

We stepped inside the restaurant, and Kyle Quicke greeted us. Like Bulluci Industries, Quicke’s was very much a family business, a couple of generations strong now. It seemed like Kyle was always at the restaurant, morning, noon, and night. With his chestnut hair, light eyes, and thin physique, Kyle was cute—if a bit on the lean side.

“Devlin, my man! Good to see you!” Kyle’s face broke into a grin at the sight of his cousin.

The two of them shook hands and exchanged hearty back slaps. Then, Devlin stepped aside.

“And I’m sure you know Bella Bulluci.”

Kyle nodded. “Bella.”

“Kyle.”

He grabbed a couple of menus from underneath the podium by the front door. “Let me show you guys to your table.”

We wound our way through the restaurant. All the greenery and twinkling lights for the bachelor auction had been cleared away, and the décor had reverted back to its usual superhero-and-ubervillain motif. The posters, the toys, the newspaper clippings. They beamed at me from their positions on the walls. I grimaced. Too bad.

Kyle seated us in a secluded booth at the back of the restaurant. Devlin helped me slip into my side, then took the opposite one. Kyle handed us both menus before leaving. We made small talk for a few minutes before giving the waiter our orders. Devlin opted for grilled swordfish, while I gave in to temptation and ordered four-cheese manicotti. With berry-flavored sangria and a piece of cherry pie for dessert.

“I really shouldn’t be eating this,” I said fifteen minutes later, eyeing the steaming mound of pasta and cheese in front of me. “I don’t know why I ordered it. The carbs are going to wreck my diet.”

“You don’t look like you need to be on a diet.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I could stand to lose a few pounds.”

“Oh, be dangerous. Live a little,” Devlin teased in a shy tone.

I stared at him. He was one to talk about living dangerously. Didn’t he realize the danger he put himself in every time he slipped into his silly costume? Every time he broke into some museum? Every time he took something that wasn’t his?

“Did I say something wrong?” Devlin asked, noticing my grimace.

“Of course not,” I replied. “I’m just thinking about how many hours I’m going to have to spend on the elliptical trainer tomorrow to make up for tonight.”

“There are other ways to get your exercise.”

I flashed back to our time in bed together. That had certainly been a vigorous workout—
very
vigorous.

“Oh, really? What did you have in mind?” I asked in a sexy, impish voice.

Devlin almost spit out his wine. He started choking and didn’t recover his breath for several seconds. If I hadn’t known better, I would have bought the whole geeky,
I’m-painfully-shy-around-women
act. But I did know better. Devlin Dash could do things to a woman that she’d only dreamed about or read in romance novels.

Devlin did most of the talking during dinner, stammering through stories about Grace, Kyle, Kelly, and other far-flung members of his family. I made the appropriate noises, but I was too busy looking for hidden meanings in his words to add much to the conversation. An hour later, we finished dinner. Devlin looked positively miserable. He kept fiddling with his wineglass and rubbing his temples, as though the evening hadn’t gone as he’d planned.

“Would you like to go someplace? Maybe for a walk or something?” Devlin asked.

But evidently, he wasn’t miserable enough to end the evening. I didn’t plan on letting him do that anyway. Not until I’d confronted him.

I stared into his eyes, blue eyes that had haunted my dreams for days. “Sure. In fact, I know the perfect place.”

I asked Devlin where his car was and if he wanted to drive. The businessman claimed he had a friend drop him off. To me, it was another telltale sign he was really Debonair. Why drive when you could just teleport anywhere you wanted to?

“We’ll take my car, then,” I said, unlocking the Benz. “It’s not that far to the marina.”

Devlin looked at me strangely. “Why do you want to go to the marina this time of night?”

“I love listening to the waves and watching the moon rise over the bay. I think it’s very romantic. Don’t you?”

He didn’t answer.

We rode in silence through the quiet streets. For once, I didn’t see any superheroes out and about. No Granny Cane pummeling muggers. No Swifte racing to and fro. No Black Samba surfing on top of a city bus. After about ten minutes, I pulled to a stop in front of the entrance to the marina. Bigtime bordered the Atlantic, and the ocean cut a wide, jagged oval into the middle of the city. A man-made river flowed down the towering hill from the observatory, spilling out into the ocean and helping to form the shallow waters of Bigtime Bay.

I eased the Benz over a couple of speeds bumps and found an empty space on the street. We got out of the car and strolled toward the water’s edge. Our shoes clacked on the round cobblestones that connected the street to the long boardwalk that wrapped around the bay. The tall spires of the Bigtime Maritime Museum hovered above us, along with the massive, pentagon-shaped beams that supported the Skyline Bridge. Lights from various boats bobbed up and down farther out in the bay. Chilled, I drew my scarlet wrap tighter around my shoulders.

“Here, let me.” Devlin took off his jacket and draped it over my shivering shoulders.

I buried my face in the collar. Sweet roses. Of course.

We settled on an iron bench in the shadow of the Skyline Bridge and looked out over the bay. Despite my pretenses to get Devlin here, it really was a beautiful view. The moonlight made the waves seem like streams of silver coming into and going out from the sandy shore. A few gulls cried in the night sky, but the constant rush of the waves crashing on the pebbled beach muted their harsh calls.

We didn’t speak for a long time.

“You know, I’m surprised you agreed to come out with me tonight,” Devlin said. “Even if I did pay for the pleasure.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I don’t exactly seem like your type.” He picked up a loose bit of stone and skipped it across the water.

“And what would my type be?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Someone suave. Sophisticated. Confident. Handsome.”

“You’re not all of those things?” I said, trying to tease him a bit. “Because you hide it very well.”

“Not really.”

I was silent for a moment. “Actually, I was glad you called. I wanted to see you again.”

“Really? Why?” He sounded surprised.

“Because I wanted to talk to you. To tell you that I know the truth,” I said, staring him in the eyes. “To tell you that I know you’re really Debonair.”